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purebarnes · 1 day ago

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WHAT SIDE IS RIGHT?

SYNOPIS. an argument between bucky and reader ends them breaking up

TAGS. Angst. Small fluff.

PAIRINGS. Thunderbolt! Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

NOTE. My babies. Marvel is getting my therapy bill atp anywayss please send requests ya guys have/want!!! i love hearing what you guys would like to read and also if you want to be be on a tag list lmk cause im up to create one

You weren’t exactly sure what had happened to you in the last year, to be exact the last 14 months when everything went so wrong. After the whole catastrophe with Thanos and losing many people in the process, you sort of didn’t have an idea on how to cope with that loss. You didn’t have anyone after Tony died.

He was like a brother you never had. But then you had Sam and Bucky, you thought that was enough. You didn’t need anyone else. Things were running smoothly, stable. It was you three.

Sam was your best friend.

Bucky was everything.

You deeply cared about both men so much, you all had lost people and gone through hell in your lives. But in this line of work, you understand what it meant to be a protector and people needed you.

So you had to make a choice. Even though it hurt you to even consider to get between them, you knew what it had to be.

Sam was the right choice. Right?

Sam had told that Ross had wanted him to re build the avengers. Past you would had many flaws and comments about that but it was Sam that would lead them. You knew he would be great. He obviously asked if you’d join his team and you of course obliged.

Then as he told Bucky, you only came to realize that he would be joining a new team called the “New Avengers.” Oh how that stinged.

Sam was distraught and betrayed by his best friend. Ross showed you the media report as he told you two that extreme measures needed to be taken. You groaned internally at this ‘War’ that it would create between each side.

So there you were, on the hard floor laying down. Just gazing up on the ceiling, biting your bottom lip slightly but enough to feel a little blood from your nerves that were pumping.

You felt the steps of a certain someone. He took a seat down on the floor and laid the same way, turning his head to see your face.

“This is about to turn to shit. You know that?”

Sam nodded, his face not changing.

He let out a loud sigh, his brows slightly raised. He understands what was about to happen but he couldn’t help but feel so hurt by Bucky.

“Well, i got you. Don’t I?”

Your mouth slightly raising, “Yeah, always.”

Sam leaned in and gave your cheek a quick kiss, watching him leave to go do business with Joaquin.

Bucky was a mess.

You left him. You couldn’t do it anymore, he made his choice pretty clear and so you needed to do the same. If you chose Sam then that meant you couldn’t be with Bucky anymore.

You were a nervous wreck that night..

You stood in the elevator, waiting for it to ding to show you were there but you were honestly happy that it was taking forever because you didn’t know if you were going to be able to go through with it.

Your heart was pumping, your left hand feeling a little numb. But that was just your nerves and they were shit.

You had a little liquid courage. Maybe that would help. Probably not.

The elevator doors opened and dinged and you saw that it was empty, you took a step forward. Bucky who was standing in front of the island, making a drink for himself as it looked since he was alone.

Sliding the alcohol, he drank it.

His eyes met yours as he licked his lips. He sort of relief seeing you, “Hey, doll.” He whispered gently looking at your emotional presence, your smile faded, eye lids heavy and just looking so exhausted.

��What’s wrong?” Reaching over to grab your hand but you refused him to hold you. You backed up, “Don’t.” You muttered, looking down to refuse to meet his gaze.

Bucky’s brows creasing, a slight frown appearing. Confused, “What?”

“I can’t do this. We need to break up.”

Your lip already quivered, you felt the tears already forming but stay on the bottom of your eyes clearly refusing to fall.

“No. What are you saying? Did Sam put you up-”

“No! You jerk. This is all me, I can’t be with you if you are going to do this. You hurt him.” The tears already streaming, making your vision blurry.

Bucky shook his head. “Please. Don’t do this.”

“You made your choice. You choose others over us. Your family?”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

You wiped the tears with your palm, “I hope they are worth it. Goodbye Buck.”

With that, Bucky grabbed you with all force and smashed his lips onto yours. Pure desperation, he couldn’t let you leave over something like this. The kiss full of lust. For a second, you cave in and started to kiss back with the same desire but you couldn’t do it. You shoved him back,

“No.. no. Stop.”

The second your lips parted, you let out a breathy sigh, earning for him back but you came here to do something.

“Tell me what to do..” He begged you, his eyes glistening with some sense of hope.

Your lips parted, waiting to say something. “If I said to leave, would you?”

“I can’t leave them. Bob needs us..”

You frowned at the older man, “We needed you. You said we were your family, we were there for you.” A permanent absence memory clearly.

“It’s different-”

“Bullshit. Everything I’ve done was for you, I nearly lost Tony just for you.” You seethed, a sob threatening to escape.

“Then I lost him and I had no one. Then I got you both and now I’m losing you again.”

Deep down Bucky knew the right answer. If it was for you then he’d do anything for you, you knew that but everything changed when he went back to New York.

“Please..” He voice faltering,

“Goodbye, Buck.”

You spoke finally and he just stood in place, not knowing what to say to you to help you or himself. There was no fixing what had broken, it was more then just Sam.

You started to walk the other direction as you met the eyes of 5 other people. Sensing they were the new team, your gaze turned into a unrecognizable stare.

You shook your head, that betrayal was worse then anything.

A final farewell, “One last thing. When it comes down and it will. This is a fight you won’t win and I don’t care who I hurt.”

The blonde and Brunette stepped forward, “Don’t worry. We got each other." Giving you a hard glare.

You chuckled incredulously, “How sweet.”

“You don’t have to do this.” John Walker spoke to you, a sort of understanding that he knew.

“See ya. Whenever that is..” you spoke before stopping and seeing one person, “And who are you?”

He looked up, nervously pointing. “Uh, me? I’m Bob.”

“Bob. Huh, see ya Bob.”

lifting up, you soon vanished away.

All eyes now turned to Bucky who had gulped down another glass of his choice of liquor.

Bucky, Yelena, John and Ava all walked out back in the new Avengers tower, “But we are the Avengers. The government said so.” Yelena spoke out.

“How does Sam Wilson not understand that?”

“Well, he does have the shield.” Bucky replied.

“I have a shield also.” John stated.

“It’s not a shield.” He retorted.

“It is a shield- It’s a shitty shield.”

“Great shield, Bucky.” John added before rolling his eyes.

Yelena groaned, “Okay. If he,” pausing before saying your name slowly, “put together a team then they call themselves the Avengers. Then who are the real avengers?”

Ava shook her head as Bucky eyed her since he still was dealing with losing you. It had been so difficult without you.

“Well, that’s the question the internet has been asking. And judging by the nasty memes I’ve read.. they don’t think it’s us.” John sighed sadly.

Yelena turned back to Bucky, “Weren’t you going to talk to him?”

“I already did.” He blankly spoke.

“And?”

“It went poorly.”

“And did you try to talk to her?” She gently asked.

“Yeah, she wants nothing to do with me. Nothing I can do.” Bucky blinked. Averting his eyes towards the floor.

“Great going.” Ava replied, “If you two didn’t have to say anything then she’d probably-”

“She thinks I chose you guys over her and I kind of did.”

“Do you regret being on our team?” John added hesitantly.

“No. I just miss her, like alot.”

Getting many sympathetic looks his way as he looked away, John nodded quickly.

“Look. I can help you find someone- I don’t want anyone.” He seethed shoving him harshly.

“Your track record is pretty awful.” Ava spoke truthfully.

“Shut up. I hate you all.”

Right in came Alexei, wearing an atrocious outfit like he was a nascar driver or something. “Hello, team.” Grinning at them.

Bucky groaned at his outfit, “What the hell are you wearing?”

“I heard about Wilson and your not girl anymore. They are dumb.”

“But, me, I’m smart, I’m smart man. I have smart solve.”

Yelena opened her mouth in disbelief.

“A-V-ENGER-Z! Avengers with a Z! There is no copyright.” Looking to see the approval from the team but no one liked it at all.

“Look- Feel. Like a baby seal.”

Bucky got up abruptly, Yelena looked up.

“Where are you going?”

“To go fix this.”

Bucky had not gotten far clearly as he saw you in the hall. Face clearly upset from possible tears you had fallen,

“Bucky..”

“Doll..”

You ran directly towards him as he opened his arms openly, you wrapped your arms around his neck . You both stayed there until you were forced to move. You couldn’t do it anymore, you were so alone and he was your light.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled in his neck.

“No, I’m sorry. I love you and I’m sorry for making you feel the opposite.”

You sighed, “I don’t want you guys to fight. I love you both.”

He nodded, “I know, baby. I know.”

You leaned back, “Can you please just try to talk to him? He agreed to hear you.”

“Yes.”

You smiled, in response you leaned in immediately peppering him with kisses, on his nose, many on his cheek, jaw, forehead.

“Thank.” Kiss “You.” Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.”

Bucky chuckled at the many kisses and gave you a long and passionate kiss. We’ll make out session as she brought you in a supply closet that night.

“Huh. You think they made up?” John asked.

There you were laying on top of Bucky, his breathing easing you up each time. Snuggled up together, Bucky having his arm wrapped around your back as you sighed happily in your sleep.

“No shit.”

“Aw, they are adorable.”

“Shut up. You are gonna wake them.”

“Just one picture-”

“No- my bad.”

You woke up to the shutter noise and started to groan at the loss of sleeping and your man’s warmth.

Bucky groaned. “You got 20 seconds.”

“What- wait Bucky. Too late.”

Bucky then had gotten up and chased them as you sat up and saw Bob who was reading his book.

“Hey Bob.”

“Heyy.” Waving at you so innocently. Oh boy.

#bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #sam wilson #mcu #bucky x reader #purebarnes #angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #thunderbolts*#count your days marvel

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writingoddess1125 · 3 days ago

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Spicy Mangos

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN Reader

I've been super busy but I do have some stories in the works and will be posting again soon

Kofi

Masterlist

Goofy Shit

Simon had never really taken care of himself besides the basics.

Seeing how he only really got access to medical care when he enlisted he flew under the radar when it came to most things-

He got his annual checkups, his shots, visited the clinic when he was injured- But that was short of it..

It wasn't till you two started to date did you urge him to go get his health in order more-

You having pressed him to get more checkups and taking better care of his health.

That and Simon constantly learning new things about himself because of you as well.

At the most random times as well..

Like the time the you two were seated in the parking lot of a Tesco, having gotten McDonald's and now raided the store for some snacks before going to the movies-

Wasn't gonna pay stupidly high prices just for some candy and shit food..

Simon didn't have much of a sweet tooth he liked more savory things- However there were some sweets he would grab, This time being some sugared mango gummies.

As youre sitting there eating some fries the two of you talking about the movie you see him grimace slightly as he ate some of the mango candy-

"What's wrong? Do you not like them?"

He shakes his head as he grabs a few more and washing it down with his drink.

"I like 'em. They're just spicy-"

You pause mid bite of your fries as you look at Simon as he eats another peice of candy calmly.

Your eyes glancing at the packaging seeing how they were plain gummy mangos- it shouldn't be spicy at all..

"Are those spicy for you Simon?"

Pointing to the bag as he pops another in his mouth. Your eyes now looking over his face rapidly as you can see the red discoloration on his lips.

Simon gives a slight annoyed look as he raises a brow at you.

"Yes of cours'-Why Luv?"

With a soft hiss leaving your lips as you stare at him with a awkward grimace.

"Love.. Mangos aren't Spicy-"

There was a few beats of silence in the car then..

He stared at you before his eyes went wide and he slowly looked at the packaged candy. Pressing his lips together as he felt the same burn and tingle in his mouth and lips from when he ate spicy foods.

"Mangos... aren't spicy?"

You shake your head softly.

"No.. Baby. Mangos arent spicy"

You reach over and very carefully take the package from him like they were a ticking time bomb. Mentally trying to remember were the closest pharmacy was to hopefully get some allergy medicine for your boyfriend who was clearly having a allergic reaction- Even if it was mild.

Simon gave a heavy sigh as he connected the dots putting his head on the steering wheel.

"Fuck-"

#x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x gn!reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #x gn reader #x male reader #x female reader #cod x female reader #cod x male reader #cod x reader

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calypso-apologist · 3 days ago

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Is it possible that you could do a yandere Odysseus x Reader? It doesn't matter what kind of reader tbh...... Whatever your comfortable with is fine.

not my best one but it should be a decent read, at least-

Yandere!Odysseus returning after twenty years ♡

CW: murder. mentions of blood. yandere themes.

Twenty years.

You've waited for the love of your life to return for twenty years.

You've raised your son, watched him grow into a man. A dreamer, wanting to meet his father again, this time able to actually remember it. He was so little when Odysseus left, he couldn't have any memories of him. You tried to fill the void with tales of your beloved husband, sparking Telemachus's eagerness for adventures.

But as years passed, you started to lose hope. Despite standing strong, never letting your doubts show, doing whatever you could to stall. You'd weave the funeral shroud during the day and then unthread it at night, fooling the suitors for as long as you could.

And then, one day... the storm. You didn't know why, but you firmly believed that storm was a sign. He was back, damn it, he had to be. As foolish as your hope might've been... you were right. And you realized that, hearing the screams of men slaughtered in the halls of your very own palace.

You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. As terrible as the suitors were, you thought Odysseus would merely chase them away after completing the challenge you've made. Pull a scary trick, threaten them a little, scare them into leaving... not kill everyone and screaming at them in fury.

And while your soul was soothed when you heard him with Telemachus, the moment he walked through the door to your bedroom, there was something... off.

It was your husband, yes. Worn out by two decades of trials and tribulations, with tired eyes and a frame much lighter than you remembered. You could probably pick him up easily, with how light he seemed now.

And despite the tired, sad look he gave you, despite the hesitance with which he approached you... something was wrong. Something in your body screamed at you to run.

You put that dreadful feeling aside as listened to him confess to all the horrid things he's done while away. You forced yourself to remain stern as you offered him one last challenge - the wedding bed.

And yet... something snapped in him when you demanded that he moves it. You could almost hear his heart shatter like a vase thrown against a wall. You could see the last few sparks of life leave his eyes. The way his fists clenched at your order.

For the first time in your life, he raised his voice at you.

He shouted, gripping your arms. How dare you? How could you? Do you not know what he went through? Do you not understand the hardships he endured? All the ways the gods have tormented him?

Do you even know how much he lost, just to get back to you?!

He's been to Hades and back, he watched his friends die, he endured years evading the advances of a Goddess, just to stay loyal to you, and here you were, thinking you could mock him by asking him to move the wedding bed that he carved into the olive tree that you've first met him under?! The tree he built his whole damn castle around?!

He was furious with you until you screamed back at him, making him realize that you were only testing him. And yet... it would seem the damage was done. Even despite how he seemed to soften again, there was something different in his eyes.

You could see how despite how gentle his hands were as they cradled your face, this wasn't your husband anymore.

It wasn't Odysseus, it was a monster.

Of course, he'd never harm you! No, no, no, you were his precious spouse, the love of his life! And he would never let anyone even try to separate you from him again.

And if you could leave your bedroom, you'd know that. It wasn't just suitors he killed, no... he slaughtered everyone who wasn't you or Telemachus.

He came back to his family. And he would keep his damn family as close as possible, damn it.

No matter the cost.

#ask #priestessofthegarden #epic musical #epic #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic musical x reader #epic x reader #odysseus #odysseus x reader #epic odysseus #yandere #epic musical odysseus x reader #epic odysseus x reader #epic the musical odysseus x reader

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milkmily · 2 days ago

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Invitation ³ [Zayne]

Zayne x non mc! Reader

Sum. You and Zayne got an invitation to a wedding, but it was to attend the wedding of the people you two love, both heartbroken. (Smut, piv, oral, Zayne may be a bit out of character so I am sorry, it's been a while I've written smut so forgive me, As well for typos sorry)

<- One | Two | here(last part) | (possibly a lil short story not sure ->

Layla is MC(my mc/ oc)

It was sudden, as he pulled Layla into his office she couldn't stop her sobs. What had happened? What is going on? He worried as he saw her cry. He hasn't seen Layla cry in a while. Last time he saw her cry was when Sylus said his vows to her. Zayne tried to calm her down, give her time to breathe and let it all out. He had his arm wrapped around her as she wiped her tears away, her sobs turning into gasps.

It was all so confusing and it hurt seeing her like this, it truly did. “I'm sorry Zayne…” she mumbled. “About What?” He asks. “I just barged in here and…” She sighs and shakes her head. Zayne rubbed her shoulder and said, “It's fine, tell me.” Layla looked at him and her eyes broke him. She looked so sad, The shine in her eyes was gone. What had happened? Was it Sylus? “Sylus and I had a talk…” Oh so it was him. And something in him burned. Layla continued, “It was about her.” You. It was about you. Why you?

“Everything went okay, it was amazing really. But the problem was that Sylus kept bringing her up. It didn't bother me because I'd bring you and Caleb up from time to time.” She says. “But then he said how she's been distant, replying to his texts late and that when they'd meet again that they would need to talk.” She says. “I know that they are close but to keep bringing her up on our honeymoon? I talked with him and told him, he seemed not to have taken it well.” She says as her hands start to shake again, the tears building up into her eyes. “A-And he said that not to think too much of it, he said I over think! Of course I do!” She sobbed. “So we just started to argue. He thinks that you also get in the way!” She cried. Zayne froze as he heard that. Him? But he hasn't done anything. “I tried to talk to him but he just…we couldn't.” She says, sounding so broken and scared. “I love him so much, I don't want this argument to end what we have.” This was the first time he's heard her say that. ‘I love him…’ Why can't he get that through his head though? And why does he feel relief at hearing them argue? What was wrong with him?

“Perhaps you two need space?” He suggested and Layla looked at him and she seemed offended. “Space? But why? I mean, we are married to be together. I don't want space from him, I want him to be with me. I miss him already.” She cried. Zayne looked away. He didn't like hearing that. It brought him shame even thinking about how he's actually happy they argued. He wrapped an arm around her and said, “We have to do things we don't like in order for things to work, Layla.” she shook her head and connected to sob. He wrapped his arms around him and closed his eyes. “I'm sorry…” he whispers and she breaks more.

As he hugged Layla back, he felt like how he used to be with her. The way his heart beat at how close she was, but right now it felt hurt for her. Sadness as he Sees her cry. Maybe if they had gotten married instead, Zayne Would of never made her cry, never would have argued with her and always agreed with her. Everything.

“Zayne…?” He turns and sees you, standing right at the door, a box of macaroons at hand. And he remembered. He remembered you'd be at the hospital in his office with a gift. He felt guilty but all he thought of really was Layla and how hurt she is. You awkwardly looked away and said, “I'll leave. Um, I'll just leave these here…” You placed the macaroons down on the desk. You looked at Zayne who was looking right back at you. Zayne saw hurt in your face again, maybe even betrayal? It was the same face You had when you saw Layla and Sylus dance in their wedding. Zayne said nothing though. He still had his arms wrapped around Layla, his head laying on top of hers. But as he watched you leave, he felt guilty, even more than before.

It was quite between you and Sylus. You fidget with your fingers as you stare down them. “What happened?” You asked, still not looking at him. Sylus looked away, he seemed to feel guilty. He didn't feel guilty. “Me and Layla argued.” He says. Ah, the first argument for the newlyweds. “About what exactly?”

“You.” Your eyes go wide and quickly look at him. “Me?” You asked and he nodded. “You've been distant. You don't answer any of my texts, maybe like a day or two later and you don't call.” He says. “It had me worried. You know how worried I've been? I've had to make Luke and Kieran search for you to see what you've been up to. All they told me is you've been with that doctor.” He says. “I don't trust him, I've told you before.” He glares. Your eyes are wide at his words. “So you kept talking about me to your wife?!” You yelled and Sylus raised a brow at your reaction. “I just said I've been worried about you and you're mad?”

“Of course I am!” You yelled. “You talked to your wife about me? On your honeymoon? Seriously? Think about it this way, what if Layla was talking about Zayne to you saying how she's worried he hasn't answered any of her texts or calls, how would you feel?!” You say and Sylus looked at you. Men sure are stupid. He just looked down and you shook your head. “I understand you've been worried about me but you have to know I can handle things myself. And yes, I've been hanging out with Zayne. There is nothing wrong with that.” You say. Sylus nods and says, “I would like to apologize…” you shook your head and said, “No, apologize to her. Not me. You have to talk to her and explain. You are a smart man but for some things you aren't Sylus.” You say.

You noticed something though. You didn't react as you used to towards him. Your heart didn't jump as you saw him or how he talked to you. Nothing. Maybe if you had heard that a month ago where you were madly in love with him, then maybe you would have fallen more for him and even would have done something. But here you are, helping him try to talk to his wife and apologize. You felt normal around him. You sigh and say, “I will be back in a bit alright? I don't suggest taking some time off from seeing each other as the relationship might affect it, but talk to her. Reassure her that you are with her. And if she needs time, then let it happen, just keep talking and text Her.” You say. Maybe everything you are telling him is something you would have wanted with him. But now, you don't and only want what's best for his wife and him.

“Where are you going?” He asks. “To see Zayne. He had surgery today and I got him something.” You catch yourself smiling at the box of deserts and Sylus noticed too. He nods, understanding. “See if Layla is there, you don't need to tell her anything, I'll just want to know where she is, that's all.” He says. You nod and grab the box. “Help yourself around.” And leave.

You walked to the hospital building. The closer you got, tell more anxious you'd get. You wondered what Zayne would be doing now? Be in his office and review work? Sit and simply think? What is it he's doing?

You walked to the elevator and as the numbers got closer to Zayne's office. You were smiling and noticed that. You noticed how your heart beat fast and how anxious you felt just at the thought of him. The doors slid open and you walked out. As you get closer and closer, You breathe in and open the door. Zayne lets you anyway now. No need to knock, he will know. But you Were met with Layla crying in His arms.

The strange thing was the hug didn't hurt, it was the expression on his face. He looked like he had missed her, he felt hurt for her and most of all, he looks In love. The way his hand coos Her back and holds Her makes your heart ache. And just by that, you can tell Zayne really hasn't moved on, has he? “Zayne…” you called his name and he turned to look at you, his eyes going wide. It was quiet. Your eyes go to Layla who still had no clue you were even in the same room. Well, now you know where she is.

“I'll leave. Um, I'll just leave these here…” You placed the macaroons down on the desk. Your hands shake as you stare at the box for a second. You looked at him and saw he looked nervous, as if he had gotten caught stealing candy like a kid. You looked at Layla and back at Zayne before leaving, closing the door behind you. You stare down at your shoes and bite the side of your cheek as you walk to the elevator and press the button. Your whole body felt tired. You felt tired. Your feet somehow make you walk back home with the strength you had left in you.

You were hurt once again.

You had forgotten Sylus was even at home. You opened the door and were welcomed by the smell of food. You slip off your shoes and walk to the kitchen. “You don't have a lot of things Here sweetie, so I cooked what I could with what you had.” He says and turns to look at you but all he was met with was hurt. “Is something the matter?” He asks. Your gaze was low, avoiding him and all you could do was nod. Sylus knew you wouldn't want to talk about it so he stayed quiet. “Just take a seat and I'll give you some dinner.” He says and goes back to humming. You quickly got distracted because of how horrible he Sang. You chuckled and sat down.

Dinner was made with a glass of wine on the side. But all you thought about was Zayne. Sylus probably was thinking about Layla too. And you spoke, “At the wedding…” Sylus raised A brow. “You told me if I was hiding something.” You say and he nods. “I was…but if I had told you it was wrong. So I said when the time comes I'll tell you.” You say. And you felt right now that possibly today was truly the right time. “When I got the invitation, I was devastated. I cried when I saw your signature On it because it was true, you were going to get married.” You say as you look down at the now finished dinner plate. Sylus stared at you as you spoke, he could see how much you've been holding in and how painful it has been. As he heard you, it started to click to him. “At the wedding too, I cried. But when I saw you dance with her, I felt so broken, that my heart just started to hurt because I remembered the time we had danced together. It meant so much to me because that's when I realized how in love I was with you.” You say and move your gaze to his. “I don't expect you to risipricate the feelings. I already know that. But I just wanted to say it.” You sigh, the feeling of something taken off your chest. Sylus had thought for a moment and he nodded. “Thank you for telling me.” He says. You nod and start to eat.

It's been four days already since Sylus decided to stay over at your place. You had agreed only if he helped around the house to clean. He may be your boss but you are on vacation right now and he is not going to be sleeping here for free. The past four days you didn't contact Zayne. Everytime you thought of him your stomach hurt from anxiety and you'd distract yourself. You kept remembering how he held Layla, how he comforted her and the expression on his face. How could you forget that? You'd be at random thoughts by yourself in your bedroom about things. Things as in: was your love life messed up? Why is it messed up by tragedy? One sided love situations and conflict.

As for Layla and Sylus, they still talk and keep contact. Layla had wanted some distance from each other for a while, saying it was the best choice. You wonder if maybe Zayne had suggested that so he could be around Layla again. Sylus didn't like the idea but went along with it, he just had told Layla to text him often. They do make phone calls here and there but it's awkward since that wall is still between them. You can tell how desperate Sylus is to see Layla again. Sylus was on a call in the living room with Layla and you were in your bedroom again with your own thoughts. That's when the doorbell rings, you snapped out of your thoughts but still stayed in the same position on your bed. You knew Sylus would open the door either way. “Are they home?” You heard a familiar voice and stood up. You hesitated for a second. As soon as you heard his voice, you were quick to follow. You sigh and walk to the front door where Sylus and Zayne stood. Zayne's eyes moved to look at you and he seemed a bit tired, like he hadn't slept well the past nights. “Here she is.” Sylus says and walks away, leaving you two to talk.

“Are You alright? You haven't answered any of my texts and I worried something might have happened.” was the first thing he said. You avoid eye contact but look back at him. “Sorry, I've kept my phone on do not disturb.” You admit. He nods and says, “I've been trying to contact you for the past two days, I was worried since you didn't answer my calls and texts.” You are a quick texter.

“I Apologize, Zayne. I'll check on my phone again.” You say and Zayne sighs. “Is something the matter?” He asks. You shook your head. “No. Just handling Sylus. I'm sure you're doing the same with Layla.” He looked away and nodded. You nod back and say, “I have to go back in. I need to help cook dinner.” Zayne looks at you. It seemed he didn't want you to leave but let's you, giving you a nod. “Alright, but please, just answer my texts or calls.” He pleaded before he excused himself and left. You close the door and quickly ran to your room for your phone you unlocked it and saw everything

I would like to apologize about today. If you Have time, could you Come to my office tomorrow?

I hope your night goes well today.

And then it goes to the next day.

Thank you for the sweet treat, they were delicious. I Apologize for the calls as well.

Would you like to go out to eat at a restaurant? Layla recommended it, she says it's good.

Hello?

Missing call

Are you alright?

Then a day passes.

How was your day?

Is something the matter? Layla had told me Sylus is at your place? She says you're fine.

Did I do something wrong?

And then the next day.

I am sorry but I worry for you. I'll be going to your house to see how you are.

And it ends there. You sigh and answer the texts,

Hey Zayne, sorry again. And yes, I would like to go to the restaurant. Just tell me when and what time and I can see.

To your surprise he answered quickly.

Is tomorrow night fine? I can pick you up.

You looked at his text, your heart beating quickly, making you groan at your decision.

Yes, that works.

Layla had talked with Sylus and she said she needed some space. She would still contact him but needed to think things through. As for Zayne, He stayed beside her. Always did. The first day, he had helped Layla feel better by making her something to eat, get her to watch something to distract herself but all she did was look at her phone and answer it as quickly as she could when a notification came through. Which would bother Zayne. And Layla noticed but she said nothing about it, why should she?

Zayne looks at the TV, it was some romance Christmas movie Layla had picked. He saw the two love interests build a snowman and quickly thought of you. He remembered when he made the small snow kitty for you and saw how your eyes went wide and they shined at how cute it was. He couldn't help but smile at that thought. But for a second he remembered the expression you had when you saw him with Layla. The hurt. He looked away from the TV, no longer wanting to see it as it reminded him of you. He walked to his office and from afar he could still see Layla stare at her phone screen in hopes for any message or call to come through. Zayne looks down at his own phone and sighs, no message from you at all. Maybe you have been busy with something since Sylus came back. He grabbed his phone and texted you.

I would like to apologize about today. If you Have time, could you Come to my office tomorrow?

I hope your night goes well today.

The next day comes. Layla was asleep in the guest room while he got up early to head to work. He opens the fridge and sees the box of macaroons. Zayne's sweet tooth kicked in and he grabbed one out of the box. He took a bite out of it but it tasted bland. Yes, it was sweet as he always likes but it doesn't taste the same. That's when he thought of you, when you two went to eat something after his dentist appointment. You being the tease and evil person you are, got yourself some macaroons and eat them slowly in front of him. It did bother him because he did want to eat one but the stupid cavity was killing him. That's when he grabbed your hand without even thinking and took a bite out of it. Your eyes went wide and felt his lips touch your thumb before he backed away and chewed. “It's good.” He says and you groan. “Your cavity! Listen to what the dentist said!” You say as you pull on his shirt. “Doctors lie.” He mumbles. You rolled your eyes and just laughed.

Zayne was brought back to his own reality, the box at front of him. He sighs and looks at his phone. Nothing from you yet. He quickly typed:

Thank you for the sweet treat, they were delicious.

He had expected you to see his text already but nothing. He sighs and leaves his house. At work he was staring at his phone any second he could. Nothing from you yet, which had him start to worry. You never do this, well, haven't done any of this before. If you were busy you'd always tell him beforehand. Now nothing, at all. He'd send a text here and there and maybe a call or two but nothing. At home, Layla talked about Sylus but in reality, he didn't pay much attention, he was so busy on his phone that he just couldn't.

Layla looks at Zyane and asks, “Is everything alright?” but he'd nod. Layla wasn't stupid, she's known him since they were kids. “Tell me.” She says, this time being in front of him. It almost felt like the right moment to speak since he's finally gotten her full attention now. His lips part and speak. “I am in love with you.” but when they slipped his lips, it felt wrong. Yes, it is wrong he basically confessed to a married woman but it was the fact his own feelings told him that it was wrong. That maybe he just wasn't in love with her anymore.

Layla's eyes were wide at his sudden confession. “Zayne…” she says and signs. “I'm married to Sylus. You already know.” She says and Zayne nods. “I…I know.” He says but it still felt wrong. Like as if those three words weren't meant for her but for you. “I Apologize, Layla. No. It is wrong of me I-” he groans and sighs. He finally speaks about you to Layla, how he feels around you, how he's felt, and what happened at the wedding. Which Layla listens to it all. “I see.” she nods. “Well, Sylus talked to me about her as well.” He quickly turned and raised a brow. “He is staying with her. I thought you knew.” She says but Zayne shook his head. She looked away and sighs. “Just take her out to this restaurant, yes?” She said as she looked it up on his phone. “It's really pretty there.” She smiles.

The next day came and Zayne couldn't stand it anymore. You completely ignored all his texts and calls and he's worried. He grabbed his keys after work and drove to your house. Zayne was met with Sylus at the door instead of you. “Where is she?” He asks, which sounds a bit demanding but he's desperate to see you. He hears footsteps and he sees you, finally again. You seemed fine, maybe a bit tired which he worried about but that didn't matter, he finally got to see you.

“Are You alright? You haven't answered any of my texts and I worried something might have happened.” was the first thing he said. He noticed your eyes move away from him. You were avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I've kept my phone on to not disturb.” You admit. He nods and says, “I've been trying to contact you for the past almost four days, I was worried since you didn't answer my calls and texts.” You are a quick texter.

“I Apologize, Zayne. I'll check on my phone again.” You say and Zayne sighs. “Is something the matter?” He asks. You shook your head. “No. Just handling Sylus. I'm sure you're doing the same with Layla.” He looked away and nodded. You nod back and say, “I have to go back in. I need to help cook dinner.” Zayne looks at you. It seemed he didn't want you to leave but let's you, giving you a nod. “Alright, but please, just answer my texts or calls.” He pleaded before he excused himself and left. He sat down in his car and sighs, looking up. His phone vibrates and sees you replied to his other text where he had suggested a restaurant to eat at.

Hey Zayne, sorry again. And yes, I would like to go to the restaurant. Just tell me when and what time and I can see.

He was quick to reply, happy to see your text:

Is tomorrow night fine? I can pick you up.

Yes, that works.

The restaurant was nice, the lighting was great from where Zayne and you sat and had a great view outside the window. You two were at 5 stories high in a building. You two could see the lights from below. You had probably worn the wrong wear for winter but still went anyway. Zayne had taken notice of something, you didn't start a conversation. You always do. You always bring some little thing and it goes after that. He cleared his throat, making you look up at him. “Layla had recommended this place, it has a nice view too. I think I like it.” He says and you just nod. He didn't expect that reaction, he expected more like how you always do. “What do you think of the place?” He asks. Zayne was very nervous, very. He isn't used to you being so quiet. He honestly thinks you don't like the place.

“It is nice, it does have a nice view from here.” You say and your orders come. He thanked the waiter and looked at you. You didn't seem very enthusiastic today. What was wrong? Did he do something wrong? Is the restaurant not to your liking? But Layla said it was the best place. “I'll be back. I am going to use the restroom. You can start to eat without me.” You say, the chair screeching as you pushed yourself away and stood up. Zayne sighs and looks down at the food, his own appetite going away. What was wrong with you? Are you okay?

“Zayne?” He looked up and saw Layla. His eyes are wide and says, “what are you doing here?” she smiled and nervously looked away. “I came here to eat. With Sylus.” But didn't he say at least they needed a week apart? This is Layla, she never listens anyways. Layla then just starts to talk about the talk Sylus and her had.

You didn't want to be at the restaurant. Well, more like not be around Zayne. You still haven't gotten over everything. When he mentioned Layla you just nod, what do you say? He just keeps mentioning Layla while you two are eating, it's annoying.

When the food arrived, you excused Yourself and walked to the restroom. You looked at yourself in the Mirror And sigh. Why are you like this? Zayne genuinely wants to spend time with you again like last time. You smiled at that thought. You washed your hands and walked outside. As you walked out, you noticed Layla with Zayne. You saw the way Zayne’s eyes looked at her, the way his head tilted to the side slightly to listen to her speak. He hummed and nodded at the things she said to him. His expression looked like: yes, I am listening to you. But that look said more. Yes, keep talking to me. His eyes never leave her face as he smiles at her and nods. It almost felt like back in high school when a boy looked at a girl he liked and listened to everything she said and agreed with almost everything she said. You wanted to be her. You wish you were her. Why was she alway so lucky? Why couldn't it be you? Was this hatred? Was this jealousy? Which one is it because you yourself don't even know. Why did he even invite you anyways if he'd be talking to her and looking at her like a puppy dog does rather than to be looking at you. It was the exact same with Sylus. All the same the exact look and head tilt. And exactly the same right now, be in the background of them both. Why are you letting yourself repeat all of this over again? Why are you allowing this pain? Why can't you let go? Why are you allowing him to make you feel so confused? He's given you a sign that he does like you but does he love you? Just as much as you love him? Soon his eyes moved away from her and saw you, but it seemed he saw your own expression too. Pain. You just stood there as you stared right back at him. Maybe you weren't mad at Layla, it was Zayne you were mad at. As much as you didn't wish you could, you can't control how you feel. Why is he like this? He's giving you so many mixed signals that you finally snapped.

You quickly walked up to the table, grabbed your purse and walked away. You walked to the elevator and bit down on your lip as you held in the tears. You quickly walked out as it made its stop and opened the doors, wind swishing in your face, making you shiver. Winter snow and yet, you didn't bring a damn coat. You sigh but still walk out. You'll just have to endure it.

Zayne was quick, he excused himself, paid the bill and left. He rushed to the elevator and rushed out. The wind blew in his face once he opened the doors to leave. You were probably freezing too. He ran and he finally saw your silhouette. He ran and called your name, making you turn. You cried? “Zayne, don't run, the floor can be slippery!” You say as you walk up to him. But you suddenly stopped. Zayne reaches you, panting And looks at you. “You can't walk out here in the snow, it's cold.” He says as he holds your shoulder. You tried to push him away from your shoulder but he had a good grip on you. “Please, let me drive you back home.” He begged and took his coat off. He places it on your shoulders as he looks at you. He cupped your chin with his hand and lifted it up to see you had indeed cried. Why did you cry? What had he done wrong? “What did I do?” He asks. Zayne has to know immediately what it was that he did to make you cry. Your eyes looked away and he sighs. “Please tell me, what is it? I've never seen you cry and I never want to see you cry because of me. Please tell me what I've done wrong and never do again.”

Zayne pleaded, making your heart beat. Right now, probably wasn't the best time to react to how he pleaded. He's never been like this to you, so his pleading made your face Heat up. You wanted to stay mad at him. But how could you when he was practically begging for you to explain what he's done wrong so he never does again. This is why you love him. “I…” you stop. You were about to say you love him. Was now the right time? When will it ever be the right time? You want to tell him because you're scared that it will all happen again when it's too late for you to say how bad you fell in love with him. He was waiting, shivering while he still held his hands on your shoulder as he waited. You looked at him and suddenly got closer to him. Zayne looks down at you and gets closer too. Why are you two getting closer? What is going on? Zayne's hands creep to cup your head and he brings you closer, his lips brush against yours and stop, was he waiting for you to push him away? You quickly crushed your lips against his and wrapped your arms around him. You kissed him and felt his own lips move against yours, making your heart beat fast. You moved your hand to his face and rubbed your thumb against his cheek as you kissed him. You two pulled apart needing to breathe and you speak, “I love you Zayne.” You were nervous. “I fell in love with you, Zayne. I fell in love with you. I felt so hurt that you hugged Layla, that you talked to her, that you looked at her the way I wanted you to look at me.” You felt the tears come again. “I feel so hurt because it feels like it's all happening again where it's always me who falls in love, it's always one sided. That's why I left. That's why I cried.”

Zayne backed away to look at her, his hands never leaving her. He was guilty for making her feel this way. He never wanted to and never will again. “I'm sorry.” He apologized. “I am sorry for making you feel this way and for confusing you.” He says as his thumb rubbed your cheek, wiping away a tear. “I love you too, and I am sure of it.” He says. Your eyes went wide at his words and you were about to say something about Layla but he spoke first,

“I told Layla how I felt, I had to. I can't keep my feelings in.” He says. “It was obvious I'd be rejected but…it felt as if I let go of something heavy, it was reliving.” He says and you lean to his touch. “But it made me think that I really do not love her. I simply missed my friend.” He says. “Being around you made me forget, I want to apologize for everything making you feel this way.” You smiled and just waited for him to say the words, the words you've been wanting to hear again. “I love you.” He says and you brought him in for another kiss. You pulled away and said, “Let's go home. You're shivering, Zayne. It is cold.” but his lips kept kissing you. You smiled and said, “We can go to your place…?” He stopped and looked at you just to confirm if it was what you were actually thinking about and you just grinned. Zayne blushed and sighs. He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat. “Alright.” He said and you laughed. “You are so cute, Zayne.” You say. “Before we go, let's go for a walk. I still need to process everything you told me.” You say as you hold on to his coat and Zayne smiles as he sees your blush. “Alright.” He wrapped an arm around you to keep you warmer. “We could go to a shop some day to get you a coat.” He says. You lean on to him and nod. “That sounds nice.” You whispered and you two walked.

Zayne's hands never leave you as soon as you walk inside his house. You weren't even given time to slip out of your shoes. Zayne already had his lips on your neck, his hands holding your waist. You softly gasp and hold on to him. “I need to take my shoes off Zayne.” You whisper and he gently sucks on your neck. He kissed it and held your hand. “Okay.” He whispers and kisses your hand. He goes on his knees and holds your foot up. Slowly remove your shoes and kiss your thigh. He moved his other hand to remove the other one and kissed your other thigh. Your heart was beating like crazy and you couldn't resist anymore. He was just everything. You wanted him so badly.

Zayne smiles at you and says, “You wore a tight dress with tights on a cold day with no coat…” He moved his hands up your thighs as he never broke eye contact. “It looks perfect on you, just isn't perfect for winter. You'll catch a cold.” He says as he holds your inner thigh and squeezes it. You bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair. “I have a doctor to care for me if I do get sick.” You say and he chuckles. “I suppose you are right.” He kissed your inner thigh and his hands went higher and higher, making you pant and feel anxious at his touch. He looks up at you asking for permission. You nod and feel his hands go under your dress, gently pulling down the black tights. He raised your dress a bit and could see the wet spot. You anxiously bite down on your thumb as you look down at him and he smiles. He rubbed his thumb on the wet spot, making you jump.

Zayne slowly moved his thumb up and gently rubbed on your clit, making you shiver. He was staring at you still, seeing every reaction and movement you made, his eyes never leaving you. You lean against the cold wall as his thumb rubbed gently. His other fingers moved to the side of the panties and moved them aside. He took off your tights and panties fully and got between your legs, looking up at you. His hands slowly brushed up and down your thighs, his face getting closer and closer to your core. His thumb brushes up and down between your folds. Zayne groans at your soft whimper. He opens your folds with his fingers. You gasp as you feel his tongue brush in your folds, Zayne needing a taste, he was hungry and desperate. He looks up at you and his tongue goes to your clit, attacking it and sucking on it, almost as if he was a starving man. You moan and hold on to his hair. You could hear the slips, groans and moans that would come from Zayne. You were getting closer and closer, you needed more. You started to ride his face, his nose brushing against your clit as he ate you. His eyes cut tightly close, the grip he had on your thighs tight. His hands move to your ass, pushing you closer to him. His other hand was already unbuckling his belt and pants. The tent in his pants was so painful. He sucked your clit and you see stars. You moaned his name as you arched your back, riding his face though your orgasam. Zayne groans and pulls away to gasp. He looks at you, sweating and panting after the orgasam.

God, you look so beautiful right now. He needed you. He quickly gets up and brings you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on him as you shared the kiss, your hands quickly wrapping around him. His hands went to your waist and he pulled away panting. “I need you.” He says and lifts you up, making you yelp. You were gently placed on the bed and you looked at him. He unbutton his shirt and your eyes go wide. What a view. He looks at you and grins. You grabbed his arm and pulled him to you, moving your hands to his abs and smiled. “Wow doctor.” You giggled and he chuckled. Your hands slowly moved up to his chest, making him gasp and groan. You could see how red he was. It went all the way to his ears. You kissed his cheek and whispered, “I can't anymore Zayne, I need you.” sending shivers and making his cock twitch in his boxers. Your hands run up and down slowly on his sides. Zayne's eyes moved down to your chest. He can no longer look away. You're looking right at him too, no? Then he has every right to look as well.

His cold hands slowly moved to the strings for your dress and he pulled them down. Zayne looked at you and you were staring right back at him, your top teeth biting down on your lip and your chest rising up and down. Your hard nipples could feel the fabric slowly get pulled down and finally, they were out. You looked at him and waited for his next words. But it is more of an action guy. He moved his hand to your chest and cupped one. He goes to your other breast and kisses the nipple, making you whine and bring your chest closer to his face. He opened his mouth and gently sucked on the hard nipple that was eager for his attention. His tongue swirls around in circles, making you moan and run your fingers through his black hair. You moaned his name and he looked back at you.

His cock was already out, his boxer gods knew where. Zayne pulls away with a ‘pop’ and goes to suck the other one. He wanted to make you feel good, make up for the time he made you feel hurt, feel betrayed by him. He always wanted to do this to you, make you moan and make you feel good. He's had dreams about it. That night he made that little snow kitty, he had a wet dream about you, moaning his name and begging for him. He woke up to his boxer wet and had to hand wash that. Which was embarrassing really. And since then he's thought of you and had more dreams of you. So having you here right now, made him so happy and especially turned on. Zayne moved his hand down to your thighs and gently rubbed your clit. He opens your wet folds and moans on your breast. He grabbed his cock with his other hand and rubbed the tip of his cock between your wet folds, his tip more wet with your folds. You squirm under him, moving your hips to feel more.

Zayne couldn't hold it any longer and looked in his nightstand. A box of condoms. He quickly opened it and gently put one on. You looked at him and tilted your head. He grabbed a pillow and laid it under you. “For better support.” He says. You smiled and nodded. Zayne brings you in for another kiss and gently pushes Himself in you, making you two gasp. You felt so warm and tight around his cock. He opened his eyes and saw how your eyebrows arched, your teeth biting at the bottom of your lip and your chest rising and filling. He kissed your cheek and whispered, “You are so beautiful.” before he thrust, making you moan. His hands moved to your hips for better support and moved his own hips away from yours and thrusted in once again. His pace was slow, making you whimper and moan. You needed more, you needed more of him. “Zayne, please.” You pleaded, his cock twitching inside of you. His thrusts become faster this time, making you hold on to him. “Z-Zayne! Ah! So-so good!” You moaned, making him groan at how you felt and sounded.

He pressed his chest against yours and brought you in for a kiss. The kiss was sloppy, the pleasure in your body making it impossible to give him a proper kiss. He Slips his tongue in you, his tongue exploring your mouth. Your eyes rolled back for a second, your breath becoming heavy and louder, your back arching and sweaty everywhere. You were close again. So close. But he stopped. You whimper and look at him, your expression showing why he even stopped. “Not yet.” He pants out and suddenly you're flipped. You're on top of him, his cock was pressed against your ass. He was smiling up at you. What an amazing view it was to him. To see you on top of him, panting and looking down at him. His hands grab the dress and pull it off of you. It got in the way anyways. Zayne grabbed his cock and taped it on your ass. You grinned down at him and said, “You're an impatient doctor. I thought you were supposed to be.” You say as you rise yourself up. “How can I?” Zayne says and pressed the tip of his cock to your cunt and you lower yourself. He groans at the once again warm sensation on his cock. Oh how he wished he could feel you without the stupid condom.

You pressed your hands down on his chest and started to move, back and forth. Your poor clit rubbing against his lower stomach, getting it wet. Zayne holds on to your hips and thrust in you, making you scream. He lifts his hips up and fucks himself in to you while he sucked on one of your nipples. You grabbed on to the head of the bed as he fucked himself in to you. “Ah- I love you.” He suddenly groans out, making your pussy clench. He bites down on your nipple. You could hear his pants getting heavy and louder. His thrust became more sloppy. You moaned, “I L-love y-you- ah!” Your eyes rolled back, throwing your head back as you came in his cock, making Zayne groan and hold tightly onto you as he cums as well, filling the rubber up with his hot cum.

You two pant, trying to catch each other's breath, your sweat mixed with his, the room feeling warm and the lingering smell of sex filling it. Zayne gently lays you down in the bed, took off the condom, wrapped it up and threw it away. He grabbed a towel and handed it to you. “Here, wipe off the sweat. I'll prepare a bath for us.” He said and placed a kiss on your cheek. You smiled at him and kissed him back before he could leave. You gently wiped off the sweat on you and stared up at the ceiling as all you can remember what had happened. You smile to yourself and think, today everything went well. He loves you, he really does and he proved it to you today.

Zayne gently moved his hands up and down your side as he kissed your neck. You relaxed on to him, the warm water and cent of lavender in the bath making you feel relaxed. You talked to him about Sylus and how he had stayed at your place to explain why Sylus had even opened the door. You also told him that you too confessed to him but you didn't want to hear Sylus opinion, it was something you just wanted to get off your chest. Zayne listened to everything you told him as he continued to kiss your neck.

“Will you stop? Don't your lips feel sore already?” You smiled and Zayne Chuckles. “They are sore.” He placed one last kiss on your cheek. “How do you feel?” He asks. “Amazing.” You smiled. Zayne shook his head and said, “No, in general. Do you feel hurt? Sore?” ah, the doctor instincts. But it did feed his pride a bit when you said that. “I'm alright, Zayne.” You reassured him. As Zayne watched you close your eyes and relax on him, he thought for a second that maybe, he just wants to marry you right now. His hands slowly move to your breast and he cups them. “Hey!” you say and he just chuckles. He closed his eyes and imagined you in your beautiful wedding dress, your beautifully made hair, and your long veil. You two slowly danced together as you looked up at him and smiled, maybe even cry, well, it would be him crying at how beautiful you would look.

Zayne just wished that the day would come when everything was ready just for him to ask.

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Tags:

@nm4565natty @animegamerfox @crimsonrubie

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I am so sorry it took me a good while to post. As you saw in the top im not sure if I'd write something small but who knows? Thank yoh everyone for reading i love you all <3

#x reader #smut #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads zayne #lads #x non mc #lads x non mc reader #zayne x non mc #zayne smut #zayne fic #zayne x reader #zayne #zayne love and deepspace

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thetepes · 2 days ago

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ig the brain damaged comments were a little mean 😭 but so is falsely claiming someone is a pedophile and rapist??

Ok, so you can admit that. Now let me show you why I believe Courtney.

If you don't have it, I can provide it, but in the Poke Madhouse comic during the Violate arc Lily had her wife draw out a complete reenactment of some of the key moments of Courtney's abuse. Finding out Lily had been abusing her in her sleep and Courtney putting a lock on her door.

I can not stress to you how eerie it was to have Courtney say certain phases unknowingly from that comic while describing it. Hell, there were even little moments she mentioned off hand like a specific series of events involving fighting over a remote.

Lily puts herself in the position of the victim and the next series of events are a build up to Lily forgiving G for violating her in her sleep and agreeing to be sisters after chapters upon chapters of mutual pining and kissing and a back and forth of being in love or not.

Once is something you can shrug off. Oh, that was weird. Whatever. Twice, also weird. Eh, it happens.

Three times? Ok, there's a pattern here.

Four?

Five?

How many times does Lily have to write the same sister's falling in love before you go "Ok, something's wrong here." How much pedophilia, like the nomnomnomi games who's dev made out with a 14 year old in that child's bed in their parent's house after lying about her age to get in, do we get to say "Well, that's probably just incidental"

And Stockholm is not 1 story. It's a collection of multiple chapter fanfictions. about 9 of them if I'm remembering right, replete with incest, pedophilia, and just about the worst shit you can think of.

The rpg maker games Lily made too are full of incest and pedophilia, about two or three of them.

It's not one or two things. It's multiple things that happened over years that have lead to this opinion and to say "Well, it's just a fanfic" or "Well it's just catfishing" isn't honest because the Tara Callie shit went way beyond that with multiple people, not just Britt.

There are victims and if you look into what happened with people there's abuse. There has been grooming. Britt, Gallade, and a few others have documented it very thoroughly. None of this is "Well she was a kid" She was in her 20s and up. Her age isn't an excuse here and it shouldn't be.

I get you just want to have fun trolling and telling me to kill myself is fun and all that, but it's not fair to dismiss the proof there is and the victims to pretend like there's no ground for the concern at all.

Just call me a crippled brain damaged retard that deserves the front end of a bus. I'll laugh at it while I'm at work or something and when my frontal lobe allows maybe I'll zing you back. That's all it has to be.

#She also cheated on her last fiancé so marriage means less to her than you #Also shes the one sharing her medical shit I do not care about her medical shit beyond she lied about cancer because that's beyond fucked u

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fuyuu-chan · 2 days ago

Note

Hi! I saw that you were open for requests. Could I request Jinwoo and zhigang with a timid reader who sings soft heartfelt songs when they think theyre sleeping?

(Like penelope from Epic the musical. Specifically her part of Would you fall in love with me again

Heres a link of it helps: https://youtu.be/rF5tJ8xuaIc?feature=shared)

I feel like there would be a paralell between hunters and their civilan partners with Odyseus and Penelope. Like how Penelope will love Odyssus no matter what, the same way that reader will love their respective partner no matter what theyve done in the gates to live another day and come back home.

No pressure to do it, but if you decide to thank you so much!

"Would you fall in love with me again?"

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader & Liu Zhigang x Reader (Separate)

Warning: mentioned/implied of killing

Fuyuu-chan: Hii! Thank you for requesting, your idea was really amazing and i enjoyed writing this one! <3 Hehehe i hope i did it right and according to your expectations. I tried my best, also i don't really know much about the musical so i apologize beforehand if i did something wrong or i didn't portray it very well

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Sung Jinwoo:

"You look different, your eyes look tired Your frame is lighter, your smile torn Is it really you, my love?"

He came home feeling tired and a bit guilty(?), he saw how you greet him the moment he entered your shared house with that same cheerful smile. Just earlier he killed someone...a person, not a monster.

"I am not the man you fell in love with I am not the man you once adored I am not your kind and gentle husband And I am not the love you knew before"

He felt guilty in a sense that, you love him because he was sweet, caring, innocent. Because you fell in love with him even before he was known as the strongest when he was still known as the weakest.

If you got to know whatever is happening to every dungeon he went into? Would you still love him? Or would you be scared of him and leave him?

He greets you back as he returned your embrace.

That night when the two of you finally laid down on the bed, he kissed you on the forehead saying goodnight as you snuggle next to him.

He closed his eyes as she hummed a lullaby. Being with her, laying next to her..its peaceful, he felt safe but yet there's still a lingering doubt, that lingering thought. But maybe he could enjoy this moment for a bit...for a while even though it may change the moment you got to know the person he had become.

You glance up to Jinwoo in which you saw him with his eyes closed, thinking he was sleeping you remain snuggled to him, softly singing a song that you have grown to like. Its a song with such a meaning, words that you wanted to say to Jinwoo but yet doesn't know how to, but thanks to this song you can express your feelings.

As you sang softly, you are unaware that Jinwoo was actually still awake, but he didn't let you know it yet. he simply listens and the lyrics had catch him off guard.

"I will fall in love with you over and over again I don't care how, where, or when No matter how long it's been, you're mine Don't tell me you're not the same person You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting"

As you sang those lines, he can't help but felt like you know what has been going through his mind, the turmoil that has been happening inside him. The doubts, the thoughts, the insecurities.

But yet here you are, uttering those words as if to answer all his doubts, to reassure him. sure, you might have just been singing a song that catch your attention but yet he felt like you are saying it to him, like you mean, like it came from your heart.

And knowing you, that is probably the case. you always sang him love songs, meaningful ones, but this one...this one is the one that he needed the most right now. Something he deeply wanted to hear from you, he haven't told you everything that is bothering him inside the dungeons, the things he did inside but yet there was a lingering thought that maybe you already knew. That you had him figured him out. Its no surprise though...you have known him long enough for you to read him like a book.

The next day, Jinwoo couldn't hide it any longer and admits everything. From what happened in the double dungeon, to the system and what has been happening all this time about leveling up. He was done hiding it all from you, not when you didn't question him at all about the changes that's been happening to him. You remained patient and treated him the same after all these years.

"Left a trail of red on every island As I traded friends like objects I could use Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands But all of that was to bring me back to you So tell me"

Then he told you about the things that has been happening inside the dungeons, the first time he killed a person to killing again until now. About the shadow soldiers.

You were shocked to say the least, I mean who wouldn't? What he said was beyond something you could even think about. to think he had gone through all that and kept it to himself all this time...

You were still processing all of it but you just embraced him, tight. you wanted to offer some comfort.

The fact he was the one guilty for hiding these to you, but you also felt guilty for not being there enough for him.

Jinwoo quickly returned your embrace.

"Jinwoo...all that matters to me is that...just come back home to me, safely"

And in that moment, he felt all his doubts and thoughts been washed away. He felt more relaxed, comforted, knowing that you will love him no matter what he had become. No matter what things he had done.

As for you, Jinwoo is still Jinwoo. your beloved partner, for life. and nothing is gonna change that.

Liu Zhigang:

"I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love"

Liu came home after a long day in the dungeons, since he was a national level hunter, all the high rank gates was the one he handles a lot in China except for the gates that his guild covers of course.

You came up to him and greets him with an excited smile. "Welcome back"

He came closer to you and pulls you in a hug, tighter than usual. You didn't question it instead wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate and pats his back gently.

Silence fell over the two of you until Liu spoke up. "Would you still love me again?" he uttered.

An hour ago before he went home, he just finished raiding the last dungeon for the day, as expected after he exited there were quite some few paparazzi waiting for him outside.

'How annoying' he thought. 'Here are these paparazzi again, when will they mind their own business?'

He walked away, ignoring the flashing cameras and how the paparazzi are following him. He was just about to lose them when one of them spoke up and mentioned your name.

That person asked him questions if he will continue his relationship with you, if he is sure he wanted to be with just a normal person, a civilian. And even went as far as saying someone like you doesn't deserve him as he was basically the second strongest in the world and a national level hunter, that Liu should be someone deserving, someone who could stand beside him on equal footing.

And that was the biggest mistake they had ever done in life. As that moment was how they finally got on Liu's nerve, his last straw. Saying things like that about his beloved partner in front of his face, was a very bold move. And the consequences about it should have been considered by that person.

Liu took them all down in a matter of seconds, no matter if only one person was the only one who says that because the fact that the others was there, they must have been saying things like that too about you. And he wouldn't let it go.

You pulled away just a little bit to look at his face. "Why would you suddenly ask that? You know the answer to that"

Liu looks at your expression. Your soft expression was there but with a tinge of surprise, he did ask it out of nowhere and without context.

"Come on, you must be just tired" you said as you kissed his forehead and led him to the living room. "I'll go serve you your favorite meal I cooked-'

Before you could even take a step away Liu took a hold of your wrist and pulled you down with him on the sofa.

"Please just stay with me here" he mumbles as he wraps his arms around you.

A few minutes passed since Liu "trapped" you with him on the sofa as he rests his head on your lap. You gently run your hand through his hair as you started humming.

His eyes was closed but he is not really asleep. You didn't seemed to notice as you starts singing softly.

You gaze at his "sleeping" form as you sang the lines quietly but enough for him to hear you.

He listened to you sing, it was soothing. Your voice makes him calm but what caught his attention was the lyrics you were singing.

He was not familiar with the song. But .... it felt like you were talking to him through the song. Are you singing this as to answer the question he asked to you earlier?

Because it definitely felt like it. You would usually sang his favorite songs but this one .... its new for him. But he had a feeling this one would become one of his favorite ones too. because this song, the lines you said, it reassured him.

He had an idea that you probably might have known what he did, but its not surprising as you have known him for years now, and the bond you share ... it was something extraordinary that one of you doesn't need to voice your thoughts for the other to know what you are feeling or thinking. But he had a feeling you still wanted to know what happened from him.

For now, he want to bask in your presence. On how you play with his hair as you continue to sing.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you.

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lightsoutmatthews · 10 hours ago

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congrats on 100 followers! for the celebration, can I request: You´re sick. You´re not going to work, end of story + auston matthews

"You´re sick. You´re not going to work." - Auston Matthews

summary: you´re not sick, at least that is what you are telling yourself.

pairing: Auston Matthews x female!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: being sick (headache, stomach cramps), mentions of being close to fainting

authors note:

Third installment of the 100 Follower celly!! Thanks for the really positive feedback on the other two!!!

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

The bright light of the open curtains of the bedroom stung in your eyes and immediately shot a string of pain through your head. Instinctively you covered your eyes with one of your hands to stop the light from burning in your face.

You hadn’t felt well when you went to bed last night, Auston shooting you worried glances when he joined you in your shared bedroom, but you brushed him off by saying it was just a headache and that it would be better after a few hours of sleep.

Unfortunately, you were wrong and the pounding in your head was even worse than the night prior.

Additionally, your stomach was cramping up as soon as you even thought about getting up and a cold sweat was running down your spine, sending shivers all over your body. You didn’t have time to be sick right now. A big presentation was coming up at work next week and there was still so much to do, you couldn’t miss a day this close to the deadline.

Getting up felt like the most difficult thing you had to do in weeks. Your body felt so heavy you had no idea how you even managed to swing your legs over the edge of the bed and walk into the bathroom to take a hot shower with the hope that it would at least make you feel somewhat better. At least to a point where you could show up to the office and get some work done.

Downstairs you heard dishes clinking together as well as some music playing. Even though it was faint the sound stung in your head, sending a new wave of pain through your body making you sink together in pain.

Using the limited strength you had left to get to the bathroom directly connected to your bedroom and turned on the shower so it could run hot while you got undressed and grabbed a towel from the towel warmer.

Exhaustion overtook you before you could do either of these things and you had to sit down on the toilet seat as to not fall over right then and there.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there. The shower still running, slowly filling up the room with hot steam that made you sweat even more than you had before.

“Baby?” Auston´s warm voice ripped you from the sickness void you were trapped in, but you didn’t have the strength to look up and see where he was shouting from. His voice sounding distant and too close all at the same time.

“Babe?” he shouted again, this time sounding even closer than before.

When a shadow overcast you, you knew he had entered the bathroom. He turned off the shower before kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You knew he wasn’t talking very loudly but to you it sounded like he was shouting. Wincing and moving backwards, away from where his loud voice was coming from you slipped your hands from his and moved them to cover your eyes again.

“I´m fine,” you hardly muttered out. “I just need a second to get dressed.” The two of you had been together for long enough that you knew he wasn’t believing a word you were saying but you said it anyways, you needed to get to work.

“What time is it?” you asked weakly. “Time to go back to bed and rest,” he shot back. “Babe, excuse me saying that but you look like shit, you need to rest.” You shook your head which resulted in more wincing given it was making your headache ten times worse.

“Can´t. Presentation.” Was all you mustered up the strength to say and you didn’t have to look up at him to see that he was shaking his head.

“You can barely hold yourself up, there is no way you make it out of the house much less are you in any condition to drive,” you wanted to roll your eyes at him and tell him he should not be so dramatic, but you could not because your stomach cramped together once again, sending a painful whimper out of your mouth.

Auston let out a quiet sigh. “Baby, …” he didn’t say anything else, but you could hear the frustration and concern in his voice. He knew he had no real leverage here because of the many times where he went to practice or to a game with lingering injuries which he should have let heal properly before taking the ice again. Every time you told him he should sit out one more game, wait one more practice but he had never listened.

“I´m fine, Auston.” The first full sentence you managed to say since he entered the bathroom. “I just need to get showered and dressed. I´m probably already late.” Another sigh left his mouth, but he got up from the floor. “Fine, if you manage to get out the door without wincing in pain, I will let you go. See you downstairs in a bit.” And with that he left you alone, just like you asked him to.

Getting showered and dressed felt like running a marathon. You were exhausted by the time you got out of the shower, barely managing to keep standing up during it because everything hurt, and your head was still hurting like someone was slamming a hammer right to your brain.

Your muscles ached and you felt like you would throw up any second if you moved too quickly. For a second you considered if Auston was right, and you should go back to bed and just sleep. Your body certainly told you to do so, but you couldn’t let your team down this close to the finish line.

With another painful whimper you opened the bedroom door and made your way downstairs. Every step hurt, your head still pounding, the ground suddenly getting blurry, stopping you in the middle of the stairs to make sure you wouldn’t fall.

When you felt relatively stable again you continued walking, slow but steady.

Auston awaited you at the kitchen island. Two plates of breakfast and two cups of coffee placed neatly on coasters waiting for you. The thought of eating or drinking anything sent another clench through your stomach but you tried to put on a brave face, remembering what he said in the bathroom earlier.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his voice once again sounding like he was shouting. “Yeah, splendid,” you breathed out trying not to indicate that you were still in any pain. The ibuprofen you took upstairs not quite working yet.

“Great, sit down, eat some toast before you go.” he was clearly mocking you, knowing there was no way you would make it out the front door much less drive the 30 minutes to work.

Your stomach clenched even harder than before when he mentioned food. A whine leaving your mouth immediately as you cramped together in pain.

“Yeah, that’s it. You´re sick. You´re not going to work, end of discussion.” With that he walked over to you and picked you up bridal style as if you weigh nothing. “Couch or bed?” he asked stopping in his movement when he realized the suddenness just made you feel more pain. “Bed,” you mumbled and leaned your pounding head against his chest. The warmth radiating from his body something comfortable but the smell of his shower gel doing nothing to make your head feel better.

He carried you up the stairs, took of your work outfit and draped one of his large shirts over your body that had already started to shiver again. “Can you close the blinds?” you requested quietly when you were nestled under the sheets again. The ibuprofen slowly making your head less painful and your stomach clenches almost bearable. “Of course,” Auston mumbled, moving unhurried to close them, casting the room in almost darkness. “I texted your work group chat and let them know you are sick. Your boss said to take all the time you need.” Of course she would. She was like an angel sent from heaven directly when it came to her employees.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, already half asleep again, the sickness taking over your body.

“Sleep, sweetheart. If you don’t feel better when you wake up, we´ll go see the doctor, okay?” You just nodded sleepily before closing your eyes fully, drifting off to a light sleep.

When you wake up again it was dark outside, which told you nothing because it was almost 24/7 dark in Toronto during the long winters.

The apartment was quiet, you noticed Felix was sleeping next to you like he was sent to protect you from anyone trying to enter the room while Auston was not here.

Your head felt significantly better, but a lingering pain was still in the back of your head. At least your stomach was back to normal because it was grumbling, like it was complaining about the lack of food throughout the day.

Getting up and walking down the stairs, with Felix in tow, was much easier than earlier in the day. A quick look to you phone told you that it was early evening. Auston should have gotten back home from practice hours ago. The faint voices coning from the living room an indication that he was in fact here.

When you entered, he was playing some video game you didn’t bother learning the name off. He had his headphones on and was probably talking to some of his teammates who were online with him.

Plopping down on the couch next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder got his attention away from the screen as he welcomed you with his signature smile. “Guys, I gotta go, see you tomorrow,” he immediately said, logging off a second after, giving you his full attention.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he laughed, brushing his thumb over your cheek in soft circles. You leaned into the touch, enjoying the moment before sitting back up again. “How are you feeling,” he questioned, a concerned frown on his face as he looked you over.

“Much better, for real this time,” you mumbled, tiredness still lingering in your body. “Are you sure?” he questioned. “Yes, I promise,” you replied, snuggling deeper into his side as he lifted his arm to make room for you.

A comfortable silence overtook the living room. The TV quietly playing whatever program was on before he turned the console on, Felix resting at your feet. Auston brushing soft patterns over your upper arm, not helping you staying awake.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you mumbled into his shoulder which earned you a kiss to the top of your head. “It´s kind of my job, isn’t it.” He laughed.

“I love you,” you muttered, already half asleep against him again. “Love you too, sweetheart. Rest up, I´ll make sure you have everything you need.” And with that you drifted off again, knowing he would make sure everything would be alright.

#auston matthews #toronto maple leafs #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #auston matthews x reader #nhl imagine

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 8 hours ago

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Summary: The reader is in a long-term relationship with Matt Murdock (Daredevil) but what happens when he keeps leaving you to deal with things alone? What if someone else is there for you? What if that someone else is Frank Castle?

Matt left you alone. Fucking alone. Again.

Anger flowed through your veins, but you shook it off the best you could. You knew this would happen, you told him that it would happen. He tried to reassure you that he would never leave you alone in a time of need but look at where you are. Tears running down your cheeks, throat threatening to close the more you fight the tears as you watch him leave because he was needed elsewhere. Somewhere more important. What was more important than you? You tried to think of what went wrong? After two years together, when did he stop caring?

You wiped your face more roughly than you'd planned just as there was a knock at your door. Could it be Matt? Why would he be knocking and not just using his key? What did he need? You knew he wouldn't apologize for leaving you alone, he never did. With heavy feet you go to the door and come face to face with Frank standing awkwardly at your doorway.

"Frankie?" You asked confused. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" You asked more frantic as you open the door wider to let him in. "No not hurt or nothing doll, came to check on you." He explained as he walked into your apartment, turning around to lock the door behind him out of habit. He hid the fact that you had accidently called him during your crying sessions minutes before he knocked on the front door.

"Check on me? What do you mean?" His heart sank as he truly takes in your form. "Doll no offense or anything but you're looking rough. Did something happen? Did someone happen cuz I'll handle it." You clenched your jaw as you listened to how concerned he sounded, how can Frank, a friend, care about you so much more than the man that was supposed to be your boyfriend?

You zoned out as you tried to stop yourself from crying even more, you hadn't noticed that Frank walked over to you until you were wrapped in his arms and crying into his chest. Frank was aware that Matt was no Romeo, but he had no idea that it was getting this bad again. "Oh doll" He mumbles as he rubs your back softly, "It'll be okay, the two of you will work it out no problem ya know? You always have."

He felt you shake your head against him before you pulled away slightly to look at him. His heart shattered seeing your eyes full of tears and cheeks flushed and stained from the tears that had fallen. "You don't get it Frankie, he...he just doesn't care. I don't know when it went bad or what I did to make everything go so bad! You care more than he ever did, and he's supposed to be my boyfriend?" A bitter laugh falls from you as you shake your head in disbelief. "I can't take it anymore; I can't be in such a loveless relationship anymore."

His eyebrows furrow hearing your rant, "Doll I'm sure it's not like that-" He tried to reassure you before you cut him off. "Frank I've seen how you love. You move mountains for who you love, and I don't think he'd walk across the fucking street for me." Your own heart broke hearing yourself vocalize the truth of Matt never fighting for you. He fought hard for so many things, so many other people but there was never a time where he fought for you. The realization hit you like a wave; you deserve to have someone that would fight for you, that would burn the world to save you.

Frank freezes hearing you say that. Rage fills his entire being quickly at the idea of you not being treated as you deserve. He doesn't know what he can do to help but he knows he can't just let you stay here any longer. "Go get your jacket."

A/n: should I start a Frank Castle tag list like I did for Logan howlett??? Lmk! Also if you enjoy my work PLEASE let me know! Either like, reblog or comment it means the world <3

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil born again #daredevil #the punisher imagine #the punisher x reader #the punisher #jon bernthal x reader #matt murdock angst

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satocidal · 2 days ago

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im so used to writing gojo ive forgotten how to erite for the other men LMAO

anyways now i want your thoughts on how the jjk men would console the reader if she got rejected

me when any character besides satosugu. it's crazy, my entire masterlist is just them with sprinkles of other characters. like i'm actually very scared of writing anyone else now (and have a superiority complex that i just KNOW them)

but onto this, yes. (these are with assumptions that jjk men and you guys are platonic) don't come @ for toji or nanami👹

I like to think Satoru would unironically throw you a pity party, don't get me wrong, it has everything you Love, expect ofc the person you wanted - and this fact, Satoru reminds you all night through his lame ass jokes. He fully believes in exposure therapy and so, the rejection gets brought up in jokes, at your expense, all night. Somewhere in the night your phone would also get stolen and he would read all the texts between you two, talking about how that didn't age well at all. But he makes up for it, he truly does - when he holds you so tight next to him, reminding just how much better you could do - you do deserve, and just full on bashing them. Makes use of his money to remind you that finer things in life do exist. And uh, duh, binge watching love island because, ofc.

I do believe that Toji would have the worst 'first' response to it - a little, "so?" dropping out of his mouth, or worse, "who didn't see that coming?" and it just makes you feel worse. But but but, he is quite the charmer and he senses it all too quick - so there he is beside you, acting all cool and non-chalant and ready to bestow his wisdom on you, he'll just settle beside you, offering something to drink - his holy grail for tough nights, and mutters a little "it's okay - if it ain't meant to be, it ain't meant to be." Actually very calm about the situation, in facts, for a minute too long, he'll even validate your stupid responses (not for too long, because he can only take so much). However if you need a hug, or a shoulder to cry upon? he's holding you so tight, offering the best quiet night you could want - and reassuring you that things will get better and you always are going to meet someone who'll be it✨for you. lol i can't see him not getting sappy when he comforts you so

A pursed line, a shake of his head and a long sigh punctuate the silence Nanami offers you, the moment you tell him the fact, bro is not amused. To say the least, Nanami was invested - from the very beginning when you had started questioning, stalking that person to slowly eating nanami's brain off about them, he'd been invested - so now he can only offer a sorry smile as he holds you, even he didn't see this coming. Like everytime else, he allows you to ramble, listening wholeheartedly - wincing and grumbling about how the rejection could have been avoided, grimacing that, that person reacted immaturely, staring onto his palm wondering where he went wrong to even allow you to like a person who would act this way. And after all of it, he opens his finest wine because what other ocassion if not for your grief - and then, he starts talking smack. and shit talk he does good, bringing down that person's everything - fashion taste, financial status, past relations - anything and everything, a true hater, such that you end up wondering if nanami was the one who got rejected.

The tea is boiling on the stove - for either case, Suguru had sent you with so many affirmations, it almost felt disappointing to tell him you got rejected. the clench of his jaw is so obvious - but he just smiles, smn in attempt to reassure you further, a little "i see," slips him as he leads you to the couch. You see he can't take it, not the frown you have as you recount the story (he's making mental notes of everything), not the little catching of your words when your throat gets all weird, so on the verge, not when he sees you blinking back the tears. Suguru is a hater, second to only nanami and that is because nanami doesn't pause on the hate track - suguru waits, suguru works his way to heal you first. so many reassurances whispered in your ears as he holds you, already making to-do plans to cheer you up, the hand on remote to browse through the movies you love to watch, other hand recahing to block that person BUT also, silently slipping in the worst responses in your head. telling you how that person never deserved you, how you must be going through smn he didn't notice because how could you like that? there's absolute disgust in his voice - and you know that disgust finally shines when he begins catfishing that person through some account just to get back on them, for you <3

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berryispunk · 9 hours ago

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The Way I See You

This is part 2/2. Part 1 readable here

pairing: Frankie Morales x f! reader

tags: dual POV, slow burn, angst , all the feelings, fluff, vulnerability, push and pull, mention of PTSD & addiction , best friends to lovers, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected PiV, soft! Frankie

summary: A tense, emotional journey of two people navigating their complicated, raw connection. What starts as a push-and-pull dynamic slowly transforms into something deeper, as they learn to open up and face their vulnerabilities.

word count: 7,5 k

read on ao3

Frankie had planned it.

Maybe not perfectly, but with care—the kind of care he rarely let himself show. Dinner at that little Italian place Benny wouldn’t shut up about. A walk by the marina afterward, maybe ice cream if the night went well. It was stupidly romantic, probably too much, but he couldn’t help it. You deserved more than porch lights and half-formed confessions in tents.

[Frankie] So… what if I take you out? Like, really out. A date-date. No tents, no coffee mugs, no Benny jumping in at the worst possible moment.

[You] You trying to prove something, Morales?

[Frankie] That I’m serious about you, yeah.

But now? He stood by his car, jaw locked, watching rain slice sideways across the hood like the sky itself was pissed off.

You laughed, squeezing water out of your hair as you huddled under the awning of the closed ice cream stand. “So much for the marina.”

Frankie ran a hand down his face. “Fuck. This wasn’t how I— I wanted it to be good.”

“It is,” you said simply. “It’s kind of perfect, actually.”

He stared at you, soaked and smiling, looking at him like none of it mattered. Not the storm. Not the car alarm that wouldn’t shut off in the parking lot. Not the stupid vending machine that ate his dollar when he tried to get you a drink. None of it mattered, because you were still here, drenched and laughing like it was the best night of your life.

He didn’t deserve that. Not with everything rattling around inside his head. Not with the cravings that had crawled up his spine the moment things started going wrong—like they always did. The moment his past whispered see? You’re still a mess. You’ll ruin this too.

But then you got in his car, cranked up the heater, and the sound of your laughter filled the space between you like sunlight bleeding through cracks. It wasn’t delicate or hesitant—it was warm and beautiful and by far his favorite sound.

He turned to look at you, his smile ghosting at the edges of his lips, fleeting even as doubt crept in.

And it hit him.

Like a fist to the ribs, a sudden clarity that made his throat tighten: he was gone for you. Hopelessly, stupidly gone. And that terrified him more than anything.

Because the last time he let himself love like that, it ended in pieces.

And yet here you were, looking at him like he was someone worth laughing with. Like you saw something in him that wasn’t just damage and regret.

He swallowed hard. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

You tilted your head. “Is that a compliment or are you just in shock I didn’t bolt?”

“Both,” he said, voice rough around the edges. “Mostly the first.”

You nudged his knee with yours. “I had fun.”

Frankie didn’t speak right away. He was too busy memorizing the way you looked right then—wet hair, flushed cheeks, a laugh still echoing in your throat.

God, he wanted to tell you.

Wanted to tell you he hadn’t felt this safe around someone in years. That your presence calmed the itch in his blood better than any substance ever had. That this thing—whatever it was—scared the hell out of him, but also felt like the only thing real in a world that constantly blurred at the edges.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just looked at you like a man trying to imprint the moment into his bones, storing it for moments the darkness took over again. And in that silence, when you reached across the console to take his hand, he let you.

—

Some time had passed since that rained-out almost-moment. Since the camping trip and the soft kiss in the tent. In the quiet way these things go, you’d started spending more time together—casual dinners, long walks that blurred into longer conversations, nights at your place where Frankie stayed too late, and mornings at his place where you learned how he liked his coffee, black but with sugar, always two spoons.

You’d let your guard down—slowly, hesitantly, but genuinely. Enough to let him see parts of you most people missed. Enough that it surprised you how easy it started to feel. But with every piece of yourself you offered, you noticed how Frankie seemed to step back just slightly. Like your closeness was pushing against something he hadn’t named yet. His walls weren’t obvious, not loud, but you felt them in the pauses that stretched too long, the way he’d sometimes look at you like you were a dream he didn’t quite trust to stay.

Still, it had started like any other movie night—bare feet tucked under throw blankets, an old chick flick humming low from Frankie’s TV, and the smell of kettle corn faint in the air from earlier. He’d let you choose the movie, even though he pretended to grumble about it, and you’d rolled your eyes, pretending not to notice how his gaze had softened every time you laughed.

Now, the room was quiet as the screen faded to black. You’d both drifted sideways on the couch without realizing. His arm had ended up around your shoulders; your cheek eventually found the space just above his ribs. Warm, easy. Like a rhythm you already knew by heart.

You were half-asleep when it started—so subtle at first you weren’t sure you felt it. A twitch. A shift. Then his breath hitched. Sharper this time. His chest rising too fast beneath your hand.

Your eyes blinked open.

“Frankie?” you whispered, voice hoarse from sleep.

No answer.

His jaw was clenched. Face turned away, brow creased tight like it hurt to stay still. His breath came in short bursts now, shallow and panicked. One of his hands fisted into the blanket. The other trembled slightly on his lap, twitching like he was reaching for a thing that wasn’t there.

You sat up carefully, gently pressing your hand to his chest, grounding him.

“Hey,” you said, firmer now. “Frankie—breathe. You’re okay. You’re home. You’re safe.”

He gasped once, sharp and rough, before his eyes finally opened—wild and glassy. It took him a second to focus. And then—

“Oh,” he rasped. “Shit.”

“No,” you murmured, already pulling him close. “You’re okay.”

You didn’t ask what it was, you didn’t have to. You’d seen the way his eyes went distant sometimes, like they were seeing something else he couldn’t outrun.

He tensed for a moment, like his instinct was still to pull back, to apologize, to vanish into himself—but then your arms wrapped tighter and he just gave in. Letting the weight fall against you like he didn’t have the strength to carry it anymore.

You held him through it. His head tucked against your shoulder. One hand still gripping your sleeve like he needed to make sure you were real. He was fragile in a way that contradicted the broad-shouldered, cocky man who wore his humor like armor.

The room was quiet but full—your heartbeat in his ear, your breath anchoring his.

You didn’t say unnecessary, hollow things like ‘you’re strong’ or ‘you’re fine’ or ‘you’ll get through it’. You just stayed and tried to be there for him.

And slowly his breathing settled again. His hand loosened. His shoulders uncoiled, the tremble fading from his frame as he leaned more of himself into your touch, like something inside him had finally, quietly cracked open.

You smoothed a hand through his curls, feeling them damp at the temples.

“I’m here,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He didn’t answer with words—just a soft, broken nod against your collarbone that made your heart ache. It was vulnerable in a way that felt natural and delicate, like even the smallest movement might shatter the moment.

And somewhere in the silence that followed, you realized—maybe this was love. Not the loud, cinematic kind, but the quiet decision to stay when things got hard. The kind that held steady in the dark. And Frankie deserved that. He deserved someone choosing him for once, the way he’d always been the steady one for everyone else.

—

You woke to the scent of coffee.

Soft light spilled in through Frankie’s kitchen window, filtering through old curtains, catching on the dust in the air. The TV was off. The blanket from the night before half-slipped to the floor. For a second, you were warm and weightless, still caught in that liminal space between dreaming and memory.

Then you saw him.

He stood in the kitchen, shoulders tight, hands braced on the counter like the silence in the room was too loud to breathe in. His coffee mug sat untouched beside him. He hadn’t noticed you were awake.

You sat up slowly. “Hey.”

He flinched, just a little, voice distant. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.”

Frankie nodded, not looking at you. A pause stretched between you, thick with whatever was unfolding right now.

“Frankie…” you started, soft, despite your heart being in your throat from his sudden coldness.

“I’m sorry,” he said, too fast. His voice low and hard. “For last night.”

Your chest tightened painfully. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I do.” He finally looked at you. There was a flicker in his eyes that made you feel like you were standing on a cliff edge with him—like he was already backing away. “You shouldn’t have had to see that. It’s not fair to put that on you.”

“I wanted to be there.”

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t want that. You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”

You stood then, slowly, carefully, like approaching a wounded animal. “Frankie, I’m not scared of you.”

“Well maybe you should be,” he snapped. And it wasn’t anger—it was fear. Pure and sharp. He swallowed hard, looking away again. “That wasn’t even the worst of it. Sometimes it gets bad. And I don’t sleep for days. And I pick fights I don’t mean to. And I spiral, hide it, pretend I’m fine until I’m not. And the last thing you need is to get caught in that.”

“I’m not just anyone,” you said quietly.

He went still.

You stepped closer, standing in front of him now. His hands were still on the counter, white-knuckled. You laid yours on top of his gently.

“You’re doing that thing again,” you whispered. “Trying to push me out before I can choose to stay.”

Frankie’s throat bobbed. His gaze was somewhere just past your shoulder, jaw clenched like he was holding back the tide.

“I saw you last night,” you said. “I see you, Frankie. Not just the parts you think are acceptable. All of it.”

His eyes finally met yours, and for a second they were glassy again, wide and wounded and scared.

“Don’t do that,” you said softly. “Don’t disappear on me in your own kitchen.”

He cracked then—not loud or dramatic. Just this quiet breath that shook in his chest like it hadn’t been allowed to move in years. He leaned forward slightly, forehead gently pressing to yours.

“I don’t know how to let anyone stay,” he said.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” you whispered. “One morning at a time.”

You stood there for a long while, your hands wrapped around his, the coffee growing cold beside you. And maybe he didn’t say anything else that morning—but his silence wasn’t a wall this time.

It was a beginning.

—

The air felt heavy before the rain even came. Thick with the kind of pressure that settled deep in Frankie’s chest, like the storm had already broken somewhere inside him.

You were walking beside him, close but not touching, shoes scuffing the sidewalk in quiet rhythm. It should’ve been peaceful. It looked peaceful. But Frankie hadn’t known real quiet in days. His head was a mess. Like a dial turned all the way up—cravings humming in his bones, memories pressing in like ghosts. The kind that crept in when he was tired or vulnerable or maybe just too close to anything good. He hadn’t touched anything. Not since you. But the itch was there. Whispering that it would take the edge off. That it would make him feel less.

Or worse—make him feel nothing.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and exhaled through his nose.

“You’re doing it again,” you said softly.

He glanced at you, brow furrowing. “Doing what?”

“Going somewhere in your head without telling me.”

The words struck a chord. So gentle, but they saw him. And he hated how much he needed that. How much he wanted to let you in even though everything inside him screamed not to.

You stopped walking, so did he.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, voice rough. “Being seen like this. Like all of me. It’s not fair to you.”

You just looked at him for a long beat. “You were okay with my mess. So let me be okay with yours.”

Thunder rumbled somewhere behind the clouds, low and distant—but Frankie was sure the louder sound was whatever cracked open in his chest at your words. Steady, certain, unshakable. He’d known you were stubborn, but this was something else entirely— fiercer, more terrifying. That you wanted him not despite the cracks, but with them. This version of him, broken and bruised, the one he tried so hard to keep hidden from the world. And yet, here you were, choosing him anyway. He didn’t know if it made him want to kiss you or run. Maybe both.

He opened his mouth, but then the sky split.

Rain came fast—sheets of it. You both scrambled for cover under a nearby awning, water already dripping from your hair, your clothes sticking to your skin.

You looked at him, eyes bright despite it all, chest rising and falling fast. And for the first time in days, the noise in his head paused just enough. Because there you were. And maybe it was the rain or the look on your face or the way he felt like he’d fall apart if he didn’t touch you right then—but he did.

Frankie’s hands found your waist, pulling you into him like gravity. His mouth crashed against yours—messy, soaked, and real. You melted into him without thinking, like your body had been waiting for this. There had been kisses before, soft hellos and quick goodbyes, but not like this. This was different. This was everything unspoken—emotion, want, and longing—poured into a kiss that felt like a language only the two of you understood.

Clothes tugged, wet fabric shifted. You gasped against his mouth, soft and aching. He swallowed it down like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Your fingers in his hair, his on your hips, your thighs—

And then he stopped. Breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours.

“Wait,” he rasped. “Fuck—I’m sorry. I just… I can’t. Not like this.”

You nodded immediately, both your chests heaving, soaked and shivering. You didn’t pull away. Just rested your hands against his heart.

By the time you reached his apartment, everything was soaked. Shoes sloshing, clothes clinging, hair dripping in slick strands. The rain had slowed, but it hadn’t let up—not really. It was still there, like a pressure behind glass. Like a metaphor too on-the-nose for the thing inside him that wouldn’t break open.

He unlocked the door with shaking fingers, let you in first. You moved through the space quietly, like you didn’t want to disturb the air between you. Like he might shatter if you did.

Frankie shut the door behind him, leaned against it for a second longer than he meant to.

You stood in the center of the room, arms wrapped around yourself—not from the cold, but from a heat that twisted with confusion and a quiet ache he recognized all too well. He grabbed towels, draping one over your shoulders, rough cotton brushing your bare arms.

You gave him a soft, grateful smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Frankie swallowed hard. His clothes were plastered to him, but he didn’t move to change. Didn’t move to touch you again. He couldn’t. Not without risking the whole dam inside him breaking.

You took a slow step toward him.

“Frankie?”

He looked up. And it nearly wrecked him—the way you looked at him. Still open, still there. And he was doing this. Ruining it, again.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

That hit deeper than any relapse ever had.

“No,” he said quickly, voice too tight, too brittle. “No, it’s not you.”

You frowned, arms dropping to your sides. “Then why do you keep pulling away like I’m going to break you?”

Frankie ran a hand through his wet curls, turned his back for a second just to breathe. Just to not grab your face and kiss you like a drowning man. Just to not fall apart.

“Because I want you,” he admitted, voice rough as gravel. “And that scares the shit out of me.”

He turned, met your eyes again.

“You don’t understand what it’s like… having something good that doesn’t feel like it’s going to be taken away. And if I let myself have it too fast, if I let myself have you like that—I don’t trust myself not to fuck it up.”

You stared at him for a long time. And God, the silence between you hurt more than anything. Because it felt like he’d just cut you open, even if that wasn’t his intent.

Your voice was small. “It kind of feels like you don’t want me at all.”

Frankie’s eyes closed and his jaw locked before he crossed the room in two steps, hands shaking as they caught your face.

“I want you,” he said, forehead pressed to yours. “So bad it fucking hurts.”

You exhaled, trembling. “Then why does it feel like a rejection?”

“Because I’m trying so hard not to ruin this,” he whispered. “Not to ruin you.”

There it was, the raw truth, the thing he didn’t say aloud to anyone else.

His thumb brushed your cheek, tentative, reverent.

“I’m still learning how to be okay,” he murmured. “But if you stay—just stay—I swear I’ll meet you there.”

—

You didn’t mean to hold your breath, but you did. Somewhere between I want you and I’m trying not to ruin you, a part of you curled inward, tight with fear and wanting.

Because he meant it. You knew he meant it, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

The warmth of his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your face so gently like you were precious—it should have made you feel wanted. Safe. But it only made the ache more pronounced.

You nodded softly, barely a movement at all.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His eyes fluttered open, searching yours. Probably hoping for more than just a single world.

But you didn’t give it.

Not because you didn’t want to, but because if you stayed another minute, you were going to fall apart. And you didn’t want him to see that. Didn’t want him to carry your heartbreak too.

So you stepped back.

His hands slipped away from your skin like a question left unanswered.

“I should go,” you said quietly, offering the smallest smile you could manage. “You’ve had a long night.”

Frankie’s brow creased. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” you cut in gently. “But I think I should.”

You reached for your jacket, still damp and wrinkled from the rain, the sleeves sticking to your arms as you pulled it on. You kept your eyes down—less chance of him seeing the flicker behind them.

At the door, you hesitated. Your fingers curled around the handle, and your voice came out before you could second-guess it.

“For what it’s worth,” you said, not looking back, “you wouldn’t ruin me.”

Then you slipped out into the cool night, heart thudding in your chest like a secret you couldn’t bear to say out loud.

—

You didn’t cry until you got home. It wasn’t loud or messy—just that kind of quiet unraveling, like threads tugged loose behind the ribs. The kind that creeps up in the silence after you close the door, when the world feels too still and your skin still remembers the way he touched you.

It wasn’t rejection. You knew that.

But it felt like it.

Felt like the start of something slipping through your fingers before it ever got the chance to land.

You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your damp clothes piece by piece, trading them for an old, oversized t-shirt that offered a strange kind of comfort. Then you curled into bed like you were trying to take up less space—like if you stayed small enough, the ache might shrink too.

He wanted you, you knew he did.

But the caution in his voice, the restraint in his body, the way he looked at you like he was made of jagged edges—it carved a sharp ache into you. Left a hollow place where the heat of his kiss had been.

And worse than that?

You understood why. So you didn’t text him the next day, or the day after that. You gave him space because he needed it—but also because you weren’t sure if he wanted you in it anymore.

—

He felt like a monster.

That’s the word that kept circling his brain, cruel and familiar. Like it belonged there. Like it fit.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you. Jesus, never that.

But the second your hand slipped out of his, the second you whispered that soft little “Okay” like you were tucking your feelings into a drawer so he wouldn’t have to see them, he knew he’d fucked it all up.

Again.

He’d stood in the rain long after you left, water soaking through his shirt, cooling the heat of your body that still clung to him.

You wouldn’t ruin me.

Your words echoed louder than the storm had. But he didn’t believe them, not really.

Because if you didn’t mean anything to him, it would be easier. He could let it happen. Let you in. Let his hands slip beneath your clothes and pretend it didn’t mean more than it did.

But it did and that terrified him more than anything else.

So he stayed in his apartment, restless, watching the phone like it might forgive him. Like maybe if he stared hard enough, you’d reach out.

But you didn’t.

And part of him knew—you were waiting for him to show up differently, he just wasn’t sure if he knew how.

—

Three days passed. Maybe four. He wasn’t sleeping much, so time got slippery. The throw blanket you’d fallen asleep under still smelled a little like your shampoo— soft and vanilla. The kind of detail that shouldn’t have stuck in his head, but did anyway.

The rain had stopped days ago, but the storm inside him hadn’t.

He stared at his phone until the screen dimmed, then lit it again. Thumb hovering over your name.

Then, finally:

[Frankie] So… you still not sick? Because standing in the rain like that seems like the kind of thing people catch colds from. Just sayin’.

It wasn’t enough. But it was a start. He didn’t expect you to reply right away. But when you did, it was like oxygen after holding his breath too long.

[You] No fever, no cough. Just a lingering ache somewhere between the ribs. Probably weather-related.

He smiled. Actually smiled. It ached in his chest a little.

[Frankie] Should’ve known you’d be the stubborn type who survives a thunderstorm like it’s a spa day.

[You] You were the one dripping all over the sidewalk, Morales. I just happened to walk away faster.

That last line—soft. Unbitter. And it gutted him. Because it told him you were trying too, even now. Even after he’d made you feel small and unwanted in the middle of a moment that had meant everything to both of you.

He stared at your message a long time. Then called you.

You didn’t answer.

But five minutes later, your name lit up his screen.

“Hey,” you said, voice quiet but not cold.

“Hey,” he echoed. “I, uh. I meant to call sooner.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just a breath, maybe two. Then: “I figured you needed time.”

“I did. I do,” he admitted. “But I don’t want space from you. Not like that.”

Something shifted in your silence—barely-there, like the moment a cloud moves off the moon.

“I was scared,” he continued, voice lower now. “Still am. What I felt that night—it wasn’t just about wanting you. It was everything else too. The part that says I’ll ruin it the second it’s good. The part that remembers every time I did.”

You exhaled, not a sigh, more like a quiet surrender. “I know, Frankie.”

And he could hear it in your voice: the ache, the understanding. The hope, too, buried just deep enough to keep you safe.

He wanted to say he was sorry, to explain that he hadn’t touched you like that because you didn’t matter—but because you mattered too much. That he hadn’t stopped because he didn’t want you—but because he wanted everything, and didn’t know how to survive that.

Instead, he just said, “Can I see you?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Come over.”

And something in him unclenched.

—-

The knock was soft.

So soft you almost convinced yourself you imagined it—wishful thinking wrapped in thunderstorm memory.

But your body knew better.

You stood there for a moment with your hand on the doorknob, heart crawling up your throat. You hadn’t heard from him in days. Not since the rain. Not since he kissed you like he needed you and pulled away like he regretted it. And you told yourself you were fine. You told yourself space was good. You didn’t text him. Didn’t call.

But now he was here.

You opened the door, breath tight in your chest.

And there he was—Frankie, with damp hair curling at the edges, shirt clinging to his shoulders, looking like the storm hadn’t left him. Like maybe it had followed him all the way back to your front step.

He didn’t say anything.

Neither did you.

But your chest cracked wide open at the sight of him. You’d missed him more than you let yourself feel until now. Missed his stupid soft jokes and the way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention. Missed the steadiness of him, the quiet hum he brought into your space just by being in it.

He stepped inside slowly, like he wasn’t sure he had the right. You let your shoulder brush his on the way past him, something quiet and deliberate. He stood still. You could feel the weight of everything in the room with you—the way your skin remembered his, the way your heart still beat a little faster in his presence, the way everything in you wanted to break and reach for him at the same time.

“I haven’t been able to sleep,” he said, voice low and worn.

You turned to face him, arms crossed before you could stop yourself. “Me neither.”

Your voice almost cracked.

And just like that, it broke.

Frankie crossed the space between you before you could think. His hands cupped your face, gentle, reverent. And his mouth met yours like he couldn’t stand another second apart. Like something in him had cracked too.

You kissed him back like it hurt to breathe without him. Like the ache of missing him had curled into your bones and only now could you begin to exhale.

Your fingers dug into the hem of his shirt, desperate for more—more of him, more warmth, more of this thing that had been burning between you since the very beginning. You felt the tremor in his hands, the restraint fighting the want, and it shattered you on the inside.

Because he was still holding back.

He broke the kiss first, panting, eyes half-lidded and dazed. “I don’t wanna stop,” he murmured, voice thick. “But if I don’t, I might not be able to.”

You blinked up at him, lips parted, chest rising and falling like you were trying to steady the unraveling inside you.

And then you said it. Quiet, raw, but sure:

“I really don’t want you to stop.”

The words hit him like a wave. You saw it in the way his eyes darkened, in the way his grip on your waist tightened just slightly—like he was torn between crashing into you or holding himself back.

He exhaled a sound that was almost a curse, forehead resting against yours. “Don’t say that,” he whispered, pained. “Not if you mean it like I do.”

You didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

“I mean it exactly like you do.”

That broke him.

His lips were on yours again before either of you could think, kiss all teeth and desperation, his hands tangled in your shirt, yours pulling him closer, anchoring him to this moment, to you. The tension that had been simmering for weeks snapped like a wire—every soft glance, every near-touch, every silence that held more than words—it all burst open between you.

Your back hit the wall, and you didn’t care. His shirt was bunched between your fingers, your breath catching as his mouth left yours just long enough to find your neck. It was messy. Uncoordinated. Hungry. He groaned—low, rough, like it was torn straight from somewhere deep in his chest.

His mouth found the spot just behind your ear, sucking gently, not knowing it was your weakness—but feeling it anyway. Feeling the way your fingers tangled in the back of his hair, how you tugged with a breathless sound that cracked the last of his restraint. You arched into him, body aflame, every nerve ending reaching for more.

This wasn’t just hunger. It was everything you hadn’t let yourself want—everything that had been simmering under the surface for too long. Now that it was here, now that it was him, you knew you wouldn’t be able to let it go.

One of his hands slipped beneath your shirt, calloused palm dragging heat across your stomach until it hovered just beneath the curve of your breast. His thumb brushed the soft edge of skin there, and you gasped like you felt it in your spine.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” he rasped against your neck, voice wrecked, lips still swollen from where they'd claimed you moments ago.

The question hit you square in the chest—gentle, reverent, undoing.

Of course it was okay. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever wanted anything more.

Your answer came out a little breathless, barely more than a whisper. “Yes.”

He didn’t wait.

His hand slid up, cupping you fully, like he’d been thinking about the weight of you in his palm for far too long. You moaned into his shoulder, half-embarrassed by how much it undid you—but you couldn’t help it. Not with his knee nudging between your thighs, not with the solid weight of his body pinning you gently to the wall, pressing into every part of you like he couldn’t bear an inch of space.

The friction was maddening.

You ground down on his leg instinctively, and he swore softly against your jaw, dragging his lips back to your mouth like he was starving.

But even in the heat of it—his hands were still careful. His mouth still reverent. Like he wanted to memorize the way you trembled, the way you gasped his name like it meant more than just desire.

Because it did.

It always had.

Frankie kissed you like he couldn’t breathe without it, like the days apart had unraveled him thread by thread, and only now—only here—could he start putting himself back together. His hands mapped you like he was trying to memorize you in the dark, fingertips learning your edges, your curves, your quietest reactions.

Your shirt was tugged over your head with a kind of reverence, his gaze trailing the exposed skin like it stunned him, like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. His hand stayed on your waist, grounding you, but his eyes flicked up to meet yours—checking, asking.

You nodded before he had to say a word.

He kissed down your neck again, slower now, lips dragging over collarbones as he dropped to his knees in front of you. With uttermost care he helped you out of your legging, followed by your underwear. His hands slid down the backs of your thighs, coaxing them apart, lifting one gently over his shoulder. Your breath caught as he looked up at you, completely focused, like there was no part of you he didn’t want to worship.

“You still sure?” he asked, voice hoarse but hands steady.

“Yes,” you breathed. “God, yes.”

The first stroke of his tongue was devastating. You jolted, a soft sound escaping your throat before you could bite it back. He groaned into you, like he felt it just as much as you did. He moved slowly, deliberately—like he had all the time in the world to learn what made you fall apart. And you did fall apart, slowly but surely. The walls, the hesitation, everything crumbled just in this moment.

Your fingers twisted in his hair, anchoring yourself. And still, he didn’t rush.

He traced you with aching precision, lips and tongue working in tandem, one of his hands splayed against your stomach to hold you steady, the other inching back up to cup your breast again, thumb brushing your nipple until you gasped. The combination stole the breath from your lungs. Pleasure rippled through you in waves—sharp, unbearable, and building.

“Frankie,” you whimpered, thighs trembling around him.

He didn’t stop. He just looked up at you, eyes dark, hungry, and so gentle it nearly broke you.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice rough against your skin. “Let me.”

And you did.

You let go.

You came with a broken sound in your throat, back arching, hands gripping him like you’d come apart without the anchor of him, afraid you would break his head with your thighs.

When he rose again, his mouth was slick with you, he kissed you slow and deep. He held you like you’re sacred, like this was more than just need—like it had always been more.

You buried your face in his shoulder, heart still racing. “Don’t stop,” you whispered again. “Please, Frankie—I really don’t want you to stop.”

His breath stuttered at your words. He nodded against your temple, voice trembling like the rest of him. “I won’t. Not this time.”

You took his hand, guiding him through the soft shadows of your apartment, your lips meeting again and again in hungry, half-breathless kisses. It was clumsy and heated, all hands and urgency, laughter blooming between kisses like it couldn’t help but live there.

You tugged his shirt off as you walked, fingers slipping beneath fabric, while he fumbled with his belt, pausing only to step out of his jeans—one pant leg catching stubbornly around his ankle. He hopped once, muttering a curse, and you laughed—genuine, bright, unguarded. His face lit up with it, eyes crinkling, like the sound of your joy was his reason to be.

By the time you reached the threshold of your bedroom, you were both breathless. He stood in nothing but his boxers, and you—naked, unhidden. Normally you’d hesitate, maybe pull the covers up or reach for a shirt. But the way he looked at you—warm, reverent, like you were something he never thought he’d get to touch—it made you feel bolder than you ever had.

You sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight, and reached for him—fingers sliding around his hips, pulling him closer. Your eyes flicked up to meet his as you slowly dragged his boxers down, freeing him. His cock sprang forward, brushing softly against his stomach, and you watched his breath hitch.

One hand went to the back of his neck in that nervous gesture you’d come to recognize—the quiet tell of his vulnerability.

“You really don’t have to do this,” he said softly, voice rough around the edges, uncertain.

You smiled, gentle and sure. “I know. But I want to. You deserve this.”

His expression softened, hands rising to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your lips with aching tenderness. And then you leaned forward.

Your lips pressed a kiss to his tip, slow and deliberate. Then you licked—kitten-soft, teasing. The sound he made was ragged and raw, a deep groan punched straight from his chest, and his fingers found your hair—not pulling, just grounding. Just holding.

You took him into your mouth with care, with hunger, and dangerously close to worship. His hips twitched, a strangled gasp catching in his throat, and you couldn’t help but smile around him, eyes flicking up to watch the way he fell apart.

Frankie was beautiful like this—unguarded, wrecked, his head tilted back and jaw slack, muscles trembling beneath your touch. You moved slowly, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing, letting every moan, every breathy curse, settle deep into your skin like a mark only you got to wear.

And he didn’t stop looking at you like maybe you were undoing him in ways he hadn’t prepared for.

You let him go with a soft, wet pop, eyes still fixed on his face. His were shut tight, like he was trying to hold onto the feeling, savor it. When he finally blinked them open, it took a second for him to remember where he was—who he was with. But you were already climbing back onto the bed, settling against the pillows, open to him in every sense of the word. Ready for whatever he would give you next.

You thought he might dive right in, all urgency and want. But he didn’t.

Instead, he hesitated.

He moved slowly, carefully, like this moment meant something he didn’t want to rush. He crawled up over you, bracing himself on his forearms, skin brushing skin, close enough to kiss but not yet taking. His fingers found a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind your ear with aching tenderness, the backs of his knuckles grazing your cheek.

Then he laughed—soft and disbelieving, a puff of breath against your lips. He shook his head, eyes searching yours like he still didn’t trust what he saw there.

“Can’t believe this is real,” he whispered, voice cracking slightly. “That you really want me… even with all my flaws.”

Your brows pulled together, heart catching in your throat at the way he said it. Like it wasn’t just surprise—it was fear. Like he was waiting for the moment you’d change your mind.

You reached up, hands framing his face with a gentleness that made his breath stutter. Your thumbs traced along his cheekbones, slow and grounding.

“Frankie,” you whispered, like saying his name could steady him. “You’re not perfect. Neither am I. But I want you. All of you.”

His eyes shone with an unspoken weight, old and aching, unhealed. He leaned into your touch like he needed it more than he could admit, pressing a kiss to your palm before resting his head into your hand.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured.

“You won’t,” you promised, even if it wasn’t a promise either of you could truly make. “Just stay. That’s all I want.”

He nodded, barely, like he was still letting himself believe it. And then he kissed you again—slow this time. Like he was trying to memorize your lips, the taste of your breath, the shape of safety. His body lowered onto yours, warmth sinking into every place you’d been cold for too long. And when he finally pushed inside you, it wasn’t rushed or wild. It was steady and careful. Like he wanted you to feel every inch of how much he meant it.

You wrapped your arms around his back, holding him close like you could keep both of you from falling apart. Like maybe, if you held tight enough, the cracks wouldn't split wide open.

Frankie found a steady rhythm, his body pressed so close to yours you felt like one—like there was no telling where he ended and you began. His hands slid beneath your back, keeping you anchored, as he kissed every inch of you he could reach. His mouth found the crook of your neck, breath hot, lips worshipping your skin while his hips moved with growing purpose. Faster, deeper. Still paying attention to you with every thrust.

He shifted your leg higher around his waist, the new angle sending lightning through your core, a moan tumbling from your lips as stars burst behind your eyes. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding you there, grounding himself. He looked wrecked—face flushed with exertion, a wild curl falling across his forehead, his entire focus narrowed down to you. You’d never seen anything more beautiful than him like this, lost in you.

Your nails dragged down his back as the knot inside you tightened, the pleasure spiraling too quickly to contain. And when it broke, it did so with force—your release washing over you in waves, raw and loud and completely unguarded. He followed seconds later, hips stuttering, a guttural sound tearing from his throat as he buried his face into your shoulder. His arms held you close as he let go, his body trembling with the weight of it, one hand clutching your thigh, the other still braced beside your head.

It took him a long, breathless moment to find his voice again.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, gently, and it undid you more than anything else ever could.

No one had ever asked before.

You nodded, running your fingers through his damp, beautifully disheveled hair, lips brushing his temple. “More than okay,” you whispered, and it felt like a full-circle moment—back to the tent weeks ago, under that quiet stretch of moonlight, when you kissed for the first time and didn’t yet know what you were starting.

—

Frankie lay there, your head tucked under his chin, your leg still draped over his hip like you didn’t plan on going anywhere. The room smelled like skin and heat and whatever the hell had just passed between you two—wild and soft all at once. A feeling he hadn’t let himself hope for.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at the ceiling, grounding himself in the feel of your body pressed against his, your breath warm against his chest, the beat of your heart steady under his hand. Everything in him was quiet for once. Not numb—just still. Like the war inside him had finally gone mute for a minute. You shifted slightly, brushing your nose against his throat, and his arm tightened around you on instinct.

He let out a breath, heavy and half-laughing. “Jesus,” he muttered, voice rough. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

You let out a little laugh, warm and teasing. “That bad, huh?”

He smirked, eyes closed, head sinking into the pillow. “Nah. Just might be too old for this shit.”

That made you laugh for real. The sound was bright and unguarded, your body shaking lightly against his, and God, it hit him like a sucker punch.

He looked down at you, you were smiling—eyes crinkled, lips soft—and for a moment he just took you in. Not saying anything, just looking at you like he still couldn’t quite believe you were nothing his mind just made up.

“C’mere,” he murmured, voice low and a little wrecked.

You barely had time to react before he kissed you again. Slow at first—deep and familiar, like a language he didn’t know he remembered how to speak. And then it shifted. Got greedy and needy. Like he was already aching for another taste.

You hummed softly against his mouth, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. His body responded before his words could—hips pressing into yours, slow and deliberate, like his need for you hadn’t gone anywhere.

He didn’t say a word.

Just rolled you beneath him again, lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone, kissing you like he was memorizing you all over again. Like this was a rediscovery.

You made space for him—physically, emotionally—arms open, heart quiet but certain.

And when he sank into you again, it felt like something unspoken was being sealed between you. Too big for words, but demanded to be felt.

This wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t just lust or a fleeting need finally satisfied. It was quieter, deeper. A promise made without speaking. A vow written into the space between each breath and each touch.

And he knew—God, he knew—that when you came undone beneath him for the third time that night, soft and wild and entirely his, he’d do anything to keep you close. Even when the darker parts of him flared up, the ones that told him to run before he got hurt. Even when those old instincts screamed at him to push you away, to sabotage what felt too good—he’d fight them. For you.

Because you gave him a home—not just in your bed, not just in your touch—but in your heart, and somehow, in your very bones.

And that was something Frankie never thought he’d have— didn’t even know he was allowed to want.

Not until now.

thanks for reading 💌

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warmblanketwhump · 3 days ago

Text

the waiting

The first day in the little cabin wasn’t bad. They’d found shelter from the elements, after all, and a safe place to wait out the storm.

The second day, cabin fever set in—there wasn’t much to do in the one-room cabin besides feed the fire, pace, and huddle together.

The third day was much of the same.

The fourth day when the mood began to shift.

It began when they all awoke to the wind still howling like a freight train. If anything, it sounded louder than it had the past few days, whistling through any crack it could find and frosting over the windowpanes.

“I can barely hear myself think,” A grumbles as they all crowd near the fireplace. “I swear I barely got more than an hour of sleep with that racket.”

“Well the rest of us have to hear you grumble, and I can still hear that loud and clear,” D retorts.

“If we get stuck here, we’re eating D first,” A announces to no one in particular.

“Hey, now. Quit it, you two,” B interjects. “Go outside, get some fuel, and don’t come back to the fire until you can both be nice.”

The two keep grumbling, but dutifully pull on their extra winter clothes to go outside and get firewood. As much as it’s a tool to cool off their bickering, they all know that it’s essential to keep the small fireplace burning to try and heat the meager space. The cabin is still drafty, however, with wind that whistles through the cracks and blows ice crystals across the floor.

The storm’s got to stop soon, B wonders, chewing their bottom lip and trying to calculate how many days of rations are left, how many more days they could make it last if they cut them in half—

B’s jolted out of their swirling thoughts with C bumping into them, inching closer. B bites back the urge to snap at them, seeing as how they just chastised A and D for doing the same thing. But they just haven’t been able to have any space the past few days, and C’s been unusually clingy and close at hand since yesterday. But they can’t stop their body from flinching at the touch, and C notices.

“Sorry….” C mumbles, shrinking back, and B feels the guilt like a punch in the stomach. “I just….”

B sighs, centering their off-kilter mood, and turns back to C. “It’s fine. Just a little cabin fever on my end. What is it?”

C wraps the thick wool blanket tighter around their shoulders, and B takes in how pale they look, the faint bruises of shadows smudged under their eyes. “It’s just…you know I went out to get water yesterday, and I….well….I didn’t mean to…”

“C, what is it?” B’s thin patience is beginning to fray further

“I fell in.”

“The snow?��

“The river.”

The words don’t immediately register with B at first. “Wait. You were supposed to get the snow for water—“

“It was only a few steps farther than the snowbank and I wanted us to have clean water, and I thought I knew where the edge was but it was hard to see in the snow and I slipped. It was only to my waist, and I got out and came back so fast—you didn’t even notice—“

“C—“

“And I changed my socks but you know I only have the one thick pair of pants, and they were still kinda damp no matter how much I tried to dry them off with the towel or how long I sat by the fire. And then I woke up this morning—“

“C. Tell me what’s wrong.” Yet B already has a sinking feeling they know.

“I can’t get warm,” C whimpers, with a weak cough. “I’m all shivery inside, no matter how long I sit by the fire, and my legs and feet are freezing, and I just thought if I could get closer to body heat—“

“C, just….” B squeezes their eyes shut and rubs their forehead, trying to gain their bearings after multiple nights of not enough sleep. “Just let me get things straight. You fell in the creek yesterday, didn’t dry off fully and wore damp clothes to sleep. And now you’re feeling chilled. Is that right?”

C nods miserably. “And it’s cold in here.”

B sighs. It wouldn’t be the first time C’s lack of foresight had gotten them in trouble. But one look at their small, shivering frame, and B knows they don’t have the heart to chastise them further.

“Fine. Come closer, then. We’ll share body heat.” B may be craving their own personal space, but they’re not leaving poor C to freeze. C wastes no time in wriggling closer to B, who wraps their arms around them and shifts them so their back is flat against B’s chest. “There. All snug.”

“Ugh, you’re so warm.” C presses closer and B can feel the fine tremors that ripple through C’s spine and instinctively hugs them tighter.

C shouldn’t have let themselves stay wet for so long. If they were in damp clothes for a whole night…

B shakes their head and clears the thoughts from their head, just as A and D tumble back in with arms full of firewood. With a little time, C would warm up. The storm would stop, and they’d resume their trek back to the city.

Things would be fine.

———————-

The fifth day is when B realizes they’re in trouble.

The bucket of ice—rethawed snow only after C’s confession—had been melted the night before for drinking, but in the morning there’s a layer of ice across the top of the bucket that A has to hit three times before it cracks. The fire had burnt down to embers overnight, and B knew they weren’t imagining things when they woke up—the air was getting colder. They’d all slept much closer to each other than they had the night before.

D’s able to stir up a flame, and the weary travelers silently resume their positions close to the fire. Gone is the concept of personal space—they all press as close together as possible to stay warm.

B can tell the relentless cold is getting to all of them. The first few days, D had been restlessly moving around the cabin, poking around cupboards and fiddling with their gear. Now, they barely move from the hearth, shaking hands extended over the weak heat of the fire or hugging themselves tightly.

A stayed hunched over in the smallest ball possible, yet never stopped moving— weakly chafing their blanketed arms, rubbing their legs, and rocking back and forth as if they could generate a spark to warm their bones.

They knew C felt it too, and worse—they’d clung to B all night, alternately mumbling nonsense and crying because they felt so cold. A couple hours before dawn, B realized they didn’t feel cold—and it was because of the feverish body practically glued to their own. Now, in the pale morning light, they could see the damp sheen of sweat on C’s forehead.

Another howl of wind buffets the side of the cabin, and D shudders, tucking their warmed hands under their arms. “You’re sure there aren’t any more blankets?”

“D, you’ve asked three times. These are all we could find.” A scoots over to D and holds up an open arm, inviting them closer. “If I hug you, will you shut up?”

“As long as you stop fidgeting.”

“I’m trying to keep warm.” The bickering’s lost some of the venom, however, and the two abandon their squabbling for the promise of more shared body heat.

B pulls out a ration packet of biscuits, distributing a biscuit each, then splitting their own and offering their halves to A and D. A reaches longingly for the extra ration, but D tries to refuse.“B, we can’t take—“

“It’s okay. I’ll eat whatever C doesn’t manage.” B knows they should keep their strength up, but both A and D’s faces look so gaunt in the dim firelight. Truthfully, the rising anxiety over the situation wipes away any appetite B should have, and it doesn’t feel right to force themselves to eat when A and D are clearly so hungry.

C weakly nibbles away a quarter of the biscuit before they turn away, burying their face back in the folds of the blanket. B tries to eat the rest of C’s biscuit slowly, but the biscuit is gone in under a minute.

————————-

the sixth day brings much of the same.

“How is C?” A’s voice is quiet. D’s found a few loose bricks in the hearth, and they’re trying to figure out a way to heat them so they can hold them for warmth.

“Hanging in there—their fever’s about the same, I reckon.” B shifts positions, C’s body limp in their arms. “How are you?”

A tries to shrug nonchalantly, but B can see the hunch of their shoulders, the continuous shivers that wrack their frame. “Cold. All I think about is how much closer I can get to the fire, or how much bigger we can build it, or when we get to eat our next ration, or how I’m going to practically boil myself in a hot bath when I get home.”

B laughs hollowly—they share the sentiment, but they quickly silence themselves when they see A’s eyes shining with tears in the firelight.

“B, what if this storm keeps up?” A’s whisper is panicked. “We need warmth. Food. C needs a doctor. We can’t hold on much longer like this.”

“Yes, we can. We’ll hold on for just as long as we need to.” B feels the lie slip from their tongue before they can contradict it with the truth: they can’t hold on much longer.

————————-

Day seven, they break down most of the furniture and cupboards to use in the fire. C wakes once, drinks one cup of water, and passes out.

Day eight, they each split one ration packet. The fire is reduced to a small flame to preserve the wood for as long as they can. B realizes they can’t remember the last time they weren’t shivering.

Day nine, they split one ration cracker. the fire dies down to embers, and they’re all too cold to sleep. in the darkness, they cling to one another, a miserable, shivering mass of bodies, blankets pulled taught around their thinning frames. the only sound is the hollow wind outside and the incessant chatter of A’s teeth.

they all wonder if it’s their last night.

————————-

Day ten, a local hunter treks up the mountain to see how his cabin had fared—and finds four frozen, exhausted, half-starved strangers who are endlessly grateful to see him.

#ENJOY #cold whump #environmental whump #stranded #waiting for help #sickfic #sickfic whump

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schlattschlut · 1 day ago

Text

Do I have to do everything for you? Schlatt x charlie x reader smut

Schlatt catches you staring at Charlie gives you an opening, when you’re too scared to take it, Schlatt does it for you.

aka Schlatt showing Charlie how to treat you right

Cw: smut, threesome f/m/m, degradation, Schlatt is over your bullshit tbh

Wc: 2,882

Schlatt and I were monogamous, or so I thought. I never looked at another man once we got together; But then he introduced me to Charlie and as much as I loved my boyfriend, it was hard not to look at Charlie.

I didn’t think it was possible to find another person who could treat me as well as Schlatt does until I met Charlie and he started holding doors for me, making my favorite drink when I don’t feel well, letting me complain to him about my issues that were definitely superficial but he always made me feel valid in my drama. Not to mention that he was just gorgeous, even before he took off his glasses and changed his hair, I would catch myself eyeing him up in discord calls.

This being the first time I’d been near Charlie in person, I didn’t realize how obvious my staring was until Schlatt called it out.

“Enough.” Schlatt’s voice pulls me from my daydreams. He slams his notebook down in front of him, the two of us had been sitting at the kitchen table, working on our own things in silence; Schlatt stands from his spot, rounding the table to stand next to me.

“What?” I ask sheepishly, my cheeks heating up as he towers over me.

“You know what.” Schlatt bites back, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning down to speak lowly into my ear, “You’ve been staring at Charlie for 20 minutes.”

My eyes widen at his words, shocked he had caught me and equally shocked he didn’t seem that mad.

“I wasn’t- I don’t think-“ I stumble over my words, trying to find the right excuse to get me out of this.

Schlatt remains silent for a moment, his head now next to mine, looking in the direction I was facing. In my line of view was Charlie, standing at the sink washing dishes after we had all eaten, oblivious to anything around him as he focused intently. I couldn’t help it, seeing Charlie wearing an apron he insisted on putting on, caught up in his own world. Schlatt had caught me red handed, watching the man in front of me do a simple task, while half paying attention to the book in front of me.

Schlatt huffs, standing up straight and crossing his arms. “You can fuck him.” He says confidently, causing me to whip my head around to look at him.

“Excuse me?” I ask, standing from my chair to face him.

“You heard me.” He grumbles, “You can fuck him, but you have to be the one to tell him.” Schlatt smirks proudly, knowing just how difficult initiating those conversations was for me.

I scoff, crossing my arms and glaring at him. “That is a wild way to make an accusation.”

Schlatt laughs, genuinely finding it funny I thought he thought I was cheating, “It’s not an accusation, toots… honestly it’s more of an order.” He shrugs.

I feel my brain shut down as he continues to speak, it was rare for him to speak in such a serious tone for so long without breaking character; I was starting to believe him.

“I can fuck him, because you’ll let me?” I clarify, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Schlatt shakes his head, his laugh becoming even dryer as time went on. “No, sweetheart. I know you want to fuck him, so I’m letting you.”

Though he explains it, I still don’t understand. He wanted me to fuck Charlie? Was this some sick way of breaking up with me?

The worry in my eyes must’ve been visible to Schlatt as he spoke up again, “Listen, if you can manage to tell Charlie your feelings… You can sleep with him, no strings attached or whatever.”

I breathe deeply, making sure to think over my next words before saying them, in case I say the wrong thing and this all goes south. “Why does my boyfriend want me to fuck one of his best friends so bad?” I tilt my head to look at him.

Schlatt huffs again, clearly annoyed I wasn’t just accepting what he was saying. “You and Charlie have been ogling each other for how long? And I don’t feel threatened by him so…” He shrugs, “Fuck him, if you want.”

I dropped the conversation there, knowing we’d be going in circles for hours if it continued.

But the thought never left my mind as a few days pass, I spend the pondering Schlatts offer, wondering how I could possibly ever bring that up to Charlie. I watched Charlie every day as he moved around the rented air bnb, slapping Schlatt on the arm every time he catches me and makes kissy noises.

After at least 36 hours of deep thought, I came to the conclusion that I should at least talk to Charlie, it couldn’t possibly hurt to casually mention it, right?

So one night, after everyone else had gone to bed or home while Schlatt and I snuggled into a corner of the couch and Charlie puttered around in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and putting things away.

I lean away from Schlatt, looking between him and the open door to the kitchen. I bite my cheek anxiously before I stand from his lap, kissing him quickly and slipping off towards the kitchen where Charlie was standing over the sink, humming to a song in his head as he scrubbed a plate.

“Hey.” I said softly, making Charlie jump and almost drop the plate in his hand. He sets the plate down safely and turns to look at me, his chest rising heavily as he worked to catch his breath.

“Jesus, you always do that.” Charlie states, splashing me with some of the soapy water.

I gasp, dodging as much of the water as I can. “I can’t help that you’re jumpy!” I laugh, finally looking up at him. My cheeks blush as I realize he’s wearing my favorite sweater of his, the black and white one that fit him so well.

He rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Did you need something?” He asks.

I nod, gulping nervously as he unknowingly put his biceps on display, reminding me how strong he was.

“Yeah, I…” I start to speak, fully ready to admit my feelings to him, having a speech planned and everything. Yet now it seemed like I couldn’t talk at all, no words coming out as I panicked.

Charlie looks at me with concern but before he can ask if i’m okay, I turn around and exit the kitchen, ignoring Schlatt who stands from the couch to try and comfort me as I make my way to our shared room and flop down on the bed, my face burning up with embarrassment.

I had figured someone would follow me, likely Schlatt, to either confront or comfort me. I secretly prayed no one did and they allowed me to sulk in peace.

Thankfully, my wishes are granted as no one even knocks on the door, though I can hear them all bustling around the house as I lay in bed. I keep my face flat against the mattress, replaying the conversation in my head a thousand times. Realizing all the cool things I could’ve said, instead of choking and running away.

At least an hour, maybe two, passes before I hear from anyone. I sit by myself, debating if I should be brave and leave the room or stay inside with my own thoughts.

Though it seems Schlatt decides for me, as I nervously fiddle with the edge of the blanket, I hear a knock at the door and the sound of the knob turning slowly. Schlatt sticks his head in, seeing me sat on the bed, he opens the door fully and invites himself in.

He stands at the foot of the bed, his hands behind his back as he rocked back and forth lightly, “Hi.” He states.

“Hi.” I reply, “What can I do for you?” I ask, tilting my head in question.

Schlatt clears his throat, running his hand through his hair as he stares at the wall behind me. “So,” He starts, which is usually a bad sign, meaning he had formed an idea.

“Oh god.” I mutter. Schlatt sticks his hands out in defense.

“Hear me out, would you? Just give me a chance.” He pauses, waiting to see if I’ll interrupt him again before continuing. “Okay, so… I know that whole conversation with Charlie kind of crashed and burned.”

I wince as he brings it up, the memory still too fresh in my mind.

“However!” He continues, “I might have talked to him about it…” He almost mumbles the last part.

My jaw drops, “Schlatt!” I scold, my cheeks heating up with a new found embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, okay, but you’re really bad at talking to people.” He replies. I cross my arms and huff, knowing he’s right. I allow him to continue, “He’s down if you are.”

He said it so quickly I almost missed it, but I didn’t and my heart fell to my stomach as I processed his words.

“He is?” I ask in slight disbelief, not entirely trusting Schlatt to not be pulling my leg.

He only nods, stepping away from the bed and back towards the door, opening it and ushering someone in; revealing Charlie who had clearly been waiting close by.

My blush gets stronger as everything starts to unfold, realizing that Charlie was in fact interested in this and my boyfriend had been the one to tell him. I wasn’t sure if I should be angry or grateful because I would’ve never talked to him on my own.

I shift to sit on my knees, watching them both closely. Schlatt had his eyes focused on Charlie, who was staring at me.

“Well?” Schlatt asks expectantly, waiting for Charlie to make a move.

Charlie head snaps from me to Schlatt, he blinks repeatedly as he processes what to say and do. “I- Uh-“ Charlie stumbles over his own words, his heart beating against his chest and his pants starting to strain were making it hard to focus.

Schlatts expression drops from expectant to annoyed. He and Charlie had discussed this prior and Charlie swore not to chicken out, that if I was in so was he. But now he stood next to the bed, nervously shifting his weight back and forth. Schlatt waits another moment before groaning. “Do I have to do everything for you two?” He questions, grabbing my ankle and yanking me down the bed towards him.

I squeak as he does, now laying on my back with Schlatt between my legs. He holds both my knees in his hands, pressing them into his sides. He looks up at Charlie again, pointing to the ground next to him. “Stand here.” He commands and Charlie immediately follows the order, standing where Schlatt told him.

My heart races, I swear it’s going to burst out of my chest. They’re both looking down at me, making me feel incredibly small. I shift uncomfortably as they stare me down, Schlatt chuckling.

“Well, since you seem to be struggling, I’ll fuck her first.” Schlatt says to Charlie, unfazed by the way Charlie’s eyes widened and he swallowed nervously. Schlatt then looks at me, slapping my thigh roughly to get my attention on him. “That alright with you, sweetheart?” He asks.

I nod frantically, growing more impatient by the second. Schlatt knew I would be okay with it, but he just had to play it up for Charlie just a bit.

Schlatt grows even more impatient as Charlie and I stay quiet. He slips his fingers under the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down and off my legs. His pants go next, pooling around his ankles as he pulled me even closer to him.

I catch Schlatt looking at Charlie, tracking his movements and ensuring he had his full attention on us. My eyes are locked on Schlatt as my hands grip the sides of his shirt nervously.

He leans forward, shushing me softly and pushing his hips into mine, stretching me out slowly as I whine softly. Once he’s fully seated, he leans back and smiles at Charlie, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing him closer, “See.” Schlatt says, “This is what you’re supposed to do.”

Charlie laughs awkwardly, his palm pressing against the front of his jeans as Schlatt holds him close to us.

I whine at Schlatt, tugging on his shirt. “Don’t be mean.” I mumble, trying to defend Charlie. Schlatt just scoffs, pulling almost all the way out before slamming his hips into mine again, effectively shutting off my brain for a moment.

He turns to Charlie again, “You watching?” He asked lowly. Charlie keeps his eyes trained on us nervously, unsure exactly where to look.

Schlatt grunts and his hips start to move quicker, his length stretching me further each time, his head falling back as he tried to remind Charlie to keep his eyes on us. I reach forward, grabbing the front of Charlie’s shirt and pulling him closer until he was kneeling on the bed next to me.

Schlatts hands are roaming the expanse of my legs, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin; a stark contrast to the way his hips slam against mine. He’s groaning softly, losing control more and more with each thrust.

“Your turn.” He grunts to Charlie, gesturing for him to take his pants off. Charlie stutters for a moment, losing his confidence as both of us watched him. Schlatt glares at him, looping his fingers into Charlie’s belt loop and tugging him even closer. His hands leave my body momentarily as he unzips Charlie’s jeans for him; pushing them down his thighs. “Fuck my girlfriend, bro.” Schlatt says, almost casually as he slips out of me, stepping aside for Charlie to take his place. He grabs Charlie’s shoulder, tugging him to stand in the position he was just in.

Charlie stares down at me nervously; I smile softly at him, leaning on my elbows and running my hands down his chest. “C’mon, Charlie…” I murmur teasingly. “I want you to fuck me.”

I see Charlie’s eyes darken at the words, as if he’s suddenly come to terms with the situation and is finally ready to play. “I’ll fuck you, princess.” Charlie mutters, grabbing himself by the base, nudging his tip against my clit a few times before pushing in slowly. I can’t help but mewl at the feeling of him. He didn’t have the length that Schlatt did, but he matched him in girth and my body couldn’t seem to get enough.

My head lolls to the side as Charlie takes a second to catch his breath, I watch Schlatt as he takes his own length in his hand, pumping it slowly; running his thumb over the tip and using the precum as lubricant. Schlatts free hand runs along my calf, down to my thigh as his eyes focus on where Charlie and I connect. “Move.” Schlatt commands Charlie.

Charlie’s head turns to look at Schlatt, his daze clearing again as his starts to move his hips, whimpers and moans fall past his lips quietly. “So tight…” Charlie whines, “God you feel good…” He groans out.

Schlatt chuckles, sliding his hand over my thigh to press his thumb against my clit. I gasp, squeezing around Charlie; causing his hips to stutter as he falls forward slightly.

I know Schlatt is enjoying this just as much as Charlie, if not more. His thumb moved over my clit quickly, clearly trying to bring me closer to the edge as Charlie’s moans only got more frequent.

“Shit, Charlie.” Schlatt laughs, his hand pumping over his cock faster, “You might actually make her come.”

I nod frantically in agreement, my eyes closing as my climax approached quickly, “Please Charlie,” I whine, opening my eyes just enough to see him panting over me. “Wanna come for you…” I beg.

His hips speed up, his hands pressing my hips into the mattress to keep me from moving as he seems to chase his own pleasure at the same time.

“Come, you slut.” Schlatt orders, taking his hand off himself long enough to slap my inner thigh. The feeling of both men against me starts to make my brain feel fuzzy, my release slowly building until I couldn’t stop myself from coming; my vision turning white and my breathing heavy as it washes over me.

I squeeze around Charlie again, hearing him gasp and his hips stuttering as his own release spills into me, slowly leaking down onto the sheets below. The sight alone is enough for Schlatt, he grunts and I feel his come dripping down the side of my leg as he whispers praises towards us both.

Schlatts free hand steadies him against the mattress before he gives in and falls down next to me, still catching his breath. Charlie follows suit, pulling out of me with a whine before climbing into bed next to me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“Was that so fucking hard?” Schlatt grunts out, “I’m not doing it for you next time.”

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