#rAcHeL oNlY tOLd HiM cAuSe ShE wAnTeD tO bReAk tHeM uP

[mylifeisjustafeverdream]

Not to talk about Glee in the year of our Lord 2023 but it was literally so fucked up that like everyone knew Quinn was lying to Finn about the baby and just like ??? said NOTHING???

And then they actively tried to keep Rachel from knowing cause they knew she'd tell him????? And acted like shewas the bad guy for exposing her?? Like bro he was 16 years old and his life would have literally been ruined. Like that was absolutely so fucked up and they're lucky as hell he talked to them after that shit.

[wardenparker]

The Stars Re-Align, part 3

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 13.1k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Cursing, food/alcohol, mentions of military service (obviously), complicated relationships, family drama, mentions of past abusive relationship, mentions of past drug use, miscommunication, revelations, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Summary: Helping Frankie and Luna get set up for the next steps of their life brings them much closer to you and Rachel. And to the possibility of family. Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who left such lovely comments and tags on this story as we went along! We really love a good One That Got Away story and we're so happy that you all do, too. Please enjoy the final installment! 🧡 As always, the gif is for the vibes, *not* a physical representation of the reader.

Half an hour after the call, when Benny knocks on the door of Fish's apartment, it's Pope who answers the door. "You brought a second army," he observes. There's just a touch of sadness in his smile when his eyes fall on you, but only a touch. In some ways, it just proves he made the right decision that you've dropped everything to come here.

“I was having dinner with them.” Benny shuffles into the apartment and looks around. “What’s going on, man?”

"Everybody come in." If he's surprised to see you, Will doesn't show it.

There's a tall woman at his side doing some very studious typing on her phone and you dimly recall Rachel saying Ben's brother has a long-term girlfriend. What catches your attention and holds it is the figure of Frankie Morales cradling a baby in his arms, and the way it wraps around your heart and twists is terrible. It's jealousy, but you have no right to that particular emotion. Not now or ever.

Settled by the bottle, Luna isn’t crying anymore, but Frankie continues to hold her close. Probably using her as a bit of a crutch himself, he can’t bring himself to put her down, even if she’s fallen back asleep.

The apartment is a mess. Things have been thrown around in a deliberate temper tantrum sort of way and it's clear that some frantic behavior has followed that tantrum, causing a bit more of a mess in the process. "Frankie..." For now you swallow down whatever conflicting emotions you have and walk over to him while the others get settled. "Ben said it was an emergency," you explain, as if you're trying to dignify why you came with Ben and Rachel even though you know that's not strictly necessary. "Are you—is she—okay?"

“You— she’s—” he’s practically speechless that you are here, his gaze darting around the destroyed apartment and he’s embarrassed that you are seeing this. “She’s okay…physically.” He murmurs, bouncing her in his arms slightly and feeling a little off kilter. “Uh— Marie, she, uh, she found Rachel’s phone number in my jacket.” He clears his throat. “She left.”

“She left…like…permanently?” You swallow hard around the implications of that, trying to reconcile what Rachel has told you of this woman with the kind of person that would abandon a child. It’s not the same as what happened with you and Frankie. This, in your opinion, is far worse.

“I think so.” While Frankie had just talked about extricating himself from a relationship with Marie, he had never once considered a situation where she would abandon Luna. He looks down at his daughter, and then his eyes find Rachel’s guiltily. As if he were just as equally horrible.

“What happened?” No sooner does Rachel meet his eyes than she’s crossing the apartment, laying one gentle hand on Luna’s back and very nearly reaching to hug him. She doesn’t know if he would even want that, but the way she almost just added Dad to the end of her sentence makes her own heart break.

He doesn’t want to tell her. Finding it too repulsive to even consider, but he owes her the most truth he can give. “She— she thinks that it was something different.” He tells her quietly. “Like I would cheat, or sleep with Ben’s girlfriend.” He doesn’t even bring up how disgusting it is since she is his daughter. “I tried to tell her that you— that we are—” he curses himself and snorts. “I told her you are my daughter and she didn’t believe me.”

Rachel blows out a long breath and centers herself, hands on her hips just like her father when he’s working something out. “Can I be honest?” Rachel asks, standing between her two parents and shaking her head.

“Always.” It’s not like he expects anything else, but he wants her to be able to share her thoughts and feelings.

“Marie is a cunt, Dad.” Rachel doesn’t beat around the bush, but reaches again to rub Luna’s back. “I’m glad she’s gone, if she really is. Because she’s awful and you two deserve so much better.”

The snickers of the guys showcase their complete agreement with her view and Frankie frowns as he looks down at his sleeping daughter again. “I just— I didn’t expect her to call our daughter a crotch goblin.” He admits quietly. “She was happy she was pregnant. Even if I wasn’t thrilled.” It’s a guilty thought, but he hadn’t been overly joyful at the prospect of having a kid.

“Terrible people say terrible things,” Rachel reasons. She leans forward more this time, waving one friendly finger in her baby sister’s face to make her giggle then places a kiss on Luna’s forehead. “Good riddance. And if she ever says another word against this little angel, I’ll punt her across the Gulf.”

“I— you’re right.” He sighs softly, his heart clenching at the sight of his previously unknown daughter being so sweet to Luna. “I knew she was resentful that I left on a…business trip when Luna was a few weeks old, but I never thought she would take it out on her.”

“Having a child doesn’t automatically make you a good parent,” you reason, with your hands sheepishly stuffed in your pockets. “Just like you can be an amazing parent without ever having children of your own. It’s not clean-cut like that. And it sounds like…like she was not going to be in this for the long run. One way or another.”

His eyes meet yours, sad because it feels like you might be making a pointed statement about him. He just nods and sighs again when Luna kicks, looking down at her and rubbing her stomach as he holds her. “Yeah.”

“I just mean…” He looks so fucking sad that your heart breaks all over again, when you meant to be supporting him. “There are plenty of people in your circle who are going to be ready to help you, Frankie. Just because the woman who gave birth to this little girl turned out to be less-than-ideal doesn’t mean she’ll be alone. We’re all here to help.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He reminds you quietly. “Call it poetic justice.” He doesn’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. Not after what he’s done.

“Don’t be silly.” What happened between the two of you is beside the point, as far as you’re concerned. At least it isn’t relevant right now, so you brush it aside. “It takes a village, right? Well, here we are.”

The differences between you and Marie could not be more evident than at this moment. He swallows harshly and he looks back up at you. “Thanks.”

“Okay.” Santiago’s voice cuts through the tension in the room, and most of the group takes that as a signal to congregate, all moving toward the living room sofa en masse. “So we have some things to figure out, but the ball is rolling. Jess is getting in contact with a lawyer for custody papers, the clean up here will take maybe an hour at most, and from there it’s making sure Fish and Luna are taken care of.”

“I— thanks again.” Frankie mutters, looking incredibly embarrassed by all of this. “I appreciate this and Luna does as well.”

“If it was one of us, you’d be right there in the trenches,” Benny reminds him. He sits down on the edge of the couch and puts an arm around Rachel when she comes to sit beside him, grateful for nothing but kindness from both her and you.

“I have some work I can do remotely for a week or two,” you offer, knowing that handling a baby alone can be difficult even under the best conditions. “And…I can cook.” A thing which was never Frankie’s forte as a teenager.

“I guess that’s— I don’t want to come between you and your life.” His eyes slide over to Santiago, burying his own jealousy because it’s not fair.

“I have the time and the skills.” It isn’t meant to be a rude reminder, but just an honest one. You’re the only person here who has raised a baby thus far. “I’ll take a personal day tomorrow and then work from home for a little while. The office won’t mind, since I’m still in the preliminary stages of my next project.”

“If you’re sure…” Frankie can take care of his daughter. That’s never been a problem. He’s not one that complains about getting up during the night or changing dirty diapers. But he is trying to appeal the loss of his license and needs to be able to attend hearings. It was good that he had preemptively went to rehab and could provide clean tests. Hopefully it would be enough.

“I have a work laptop, a deep knowledge of Disney and children’s music, and the ability to cook enough to leave you leftovers.” For the first time, your hand moves to his arm and you give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure, Frankie.”

"It won't be for long." He promises. "As soon as I can get my license back, I can afford to get a daycare or a sitter service for Luna." He shrugs slightly. "I can fly again." He's not sure what Santiago has told you, but there's no need to hide anything from you.

“Mom has you covered for a little bit, and Benny and I can help,” Rachel assures him. The deep need to connect to her little sister and be there for her father is strong and already growing.

“And Jess and I will fill in the blanks,” Will promises. Luna will never be without a second set of eyes, Fish. You’ll be able to make your appointments and do everything you need to do.”

Frankie blows out a sigh and he looks around. "Should I move?" He asks quietly. "In case she comes back? Or stay here and if she does come back, we address it then?"

“Move in with us.” Rachel blurts out, unapologetic in her honesty and immediately stubborn on the point as soon as the thought occurs to her. “We have the space, and Marie wouldn’t know how to find you.”

Frankie's eyes widen at the offer and his heart leaps at the idea but his gaze darts over to you. "Rachel, sweetheart...I couldn't possibly do that." He shakes his head when your own shocked face mirrors his. You don't want that and he won't make your life harder.

“Guys, will you give us a minute?” This is not a conversation that you want spectators for, and it only takes a second of hesitation for Will and Jess to stand.

“Let’s start picking up.” Will suggests, casting meaningful looks at Santiago and Benny. This isn’t their conversation. Especially not Pope’s anymore.

Frankie shuffles slightly, biting his lip and wishing that he didn't have to hear the scolding that Rachel was in for. He knows that she only has good intentions, but it's not the same as offering up a place to live for him and a child he fathered by another woman.

“Do you feel unsafe here?” You ask Frankie, wanting an honest answer rather than the one he feels he ought to give. Men have a hard time speaking up in abusive situations for a hell of a lot of reasons and you’re not about to add to his stress. “Like if Marie came back, she might hurt you or the baby?”

"She wouldn't hurt me." Frankie assures you. "But...I don't— I might hurt her." He admits softly. "If she tries to hurt Luna. I'll talk to the property management. Have the locks changed."

“Is there any possibility she would actually try to hurt Luna?” This sweet little baby did nothing wrong, and the part of you that missed out on getting to see Frankie hold your little girl is both savoring and jealous of this moment of his protection.

"If she's high?" Frankie wouldn't want to believe it, but he can't be sure. "I don't know. She's angry at me and she knows that I would die for Luna."

“If she’s—” That is going to have to be a conversation for another time, but you nod your head once and look at Rachel. Your steadfast, loyal-to-a-fault daughter is looking at you so expectantly that you can’t even hold her gaze, and end up looking back at Frankie. “We have a guest room and a safe neighborhood. Our HOA is a pain in the ass but if they know a vehicle isn’t supposed to be in the neighborhood they will have a tow truck in the street before she even gets out of her car.”

"Gatita..." he closes his eyes and relaxes slightly when he feels Rachel take the baby from him. Opening his eyes again, he knows that it's the right choice. "We won't be there long." He promises after a moment.

"You'll be there for as long as you need to be." Will it be awkward, maneuvering around each other? Sure. But this isn't about your comfort level. This is about his safety and the safety of his baby.

******

Your home is surprisingly easy to settle into, but Frankie tries to give you and Rachel space. Finding some of the run ins a little awkward in that ‘navigating new roommates’ waters. Right now though, it’s three in the morning and Luna has woken up hungry. Leaving a sleepy-eyed Dad to shuffle into the kitchen in a pair of sleep pants and a little girl bouncing against his bare shoulder as he mixes up a bottle.

There’s a light on in the kitchen when you come down the stairs, bleary-eyed and dealing with a stupid amount of heartburn from that second helping of chili you shouldn’t have had at dinner. You can hear him before you see him — the gentle shushing of a parent soothing an infant — and you knock gently on the archway to the kitchen before stepping inside. “Sorry to interrupt,” you murmur quietly, not wanting to scare Luna.

“Hey, sorry.” Frankie winces slightly, sure that he’s woken you up. “Baby girl needed a bottle. We’ll be settled down and quiet soon.”

“Don’t worry about it.” When you move toward the fridge too, you almost laugh at the irony. “I came down for milk, too. Heartburn is a bitch.”

He winces sympathetically and nods. “Remember when we were young? Heartburn was something our parents made up.” He snorts, aware that he’s had to change his diet as he’s gotten older.

“I’d give anything to be able to eat the way we did back then.” The carton of milk comes out onto the counter and so does a glass, but you’re self-conscious of giving Frankie enough space so you stay tucked in the corner. “Can I ask…” You shift slightly in place. “How are you adjusting?”

“Day to day, at night, it’s not a lot of difference.” Frankie admits. You have helped him tremendously during the day, but he insists on taking care of Luna himself when he gets back. “I always took care of the baby when I got home.” He tells you. “She needed a break and I didn’t mind.”

“Is there anything you need picked up? Changed?” It’s not your place to remark on his ex-girlfriend’s parenting, or seeming lack thereof, but you have noticed that the only people who contact him are his lawyer and his friends. The guys have been quite active actually, either helping him move the last of his things from the apartment into storage, helping with Luna, or helping him get things organized for his hearings.

“I don’t think so.” He is so grateful to you for everything. “I am planning on cutting the grass tomorrow.” He tells you. “So don’t worry about that.”

“I’m assuming it won’t make a difference if I tell you that you don’t need to do chores?” The Frankie of your past was a stubborn guy, and a nostalgic smile curls your lips.

“No.” Frankie frowns and looks over at you with dark eyes. “You are letting me stay, watching my child and you won’t take my money.” He huffs, slightly offended at the handout. “I can help around here.”

“Just don’t overextend yourself. Your appointments are more important than the lawn.” It’s nice that he wants to help, and you’re not going to stop him, but you don’t want Frankie to get himself behind because he gets obsessed with helping.

“I know.” Frankie nods. “I don’t have an appointment tomorrow. And the lawyers said that it looks promising.” He tells you.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Your own glass of milk is cold and soothing, and you pour a second for good measure. “I was planning on working from home again tomorrow. I hope that won’t bother you too much.”

“Gatita, this is your house.” Frankie reminds you. “You are free to do whatever you want.” He snorts. “If you wanted to walk around naked, I would just have to try to not stare.” He’s tired and he’s been dreaming about you after spending so much time with you. He didn’t mean to say that, but it popped out.

The burning in your cheeks is immediate, that combination of embarrassment and rekindled desire making you quickly look away so he won’t see how much you love hearing him call you Gatita again, or how much you actually want him to mean it when he says things like that to you. It had been deep in your head that the love you still have for Frankie would bubble to the surface with him in your house, but you didn’t know quite how bad it was going to be. “Well…I would say you’ve always been a gentleman, but we were teenagers together. The parts of us that are good at restraint now didn’t really exist back then.”

“No need to be a gentleman when I had you.” Frankie murmurs softly, twisting the cap back on the bottle and shaking it up as Luna grunts against his shoulder. She’s not crying right now, but she will be if she doesn’t get her bottle. “Only had to restrain myself around our parents.”

“Something neither of us was terribly good at,” you admit with a snort. “At least they never actually caught us having sex. That would have been mortifying.”

“Dad did.” Frankie admits, sending you a sheepish grin. “Senior year. He opened the door slightly and immediately closed it. I saw him in the mirror.”

“Oh my god.” You almost drop your glass, fumbling to get it on the counter with little enough noise to not agitate the baby and stifle your laughter at the same time. “Seriously? I am so glad you never told me that.”

He laughs quietly and nods. “We had sworn to never speak of it. And I hadn’t, until now.”

“I never would have been able to look him in the eye again.” Unfortunately, Frankie’s father had passed years ago — your own parents had sent you the obituary. “I sent flowers to the funeral home when he passed,” you admit quietly. “No card or anything, but…it was too little too late. I know that.”

Frankie closes his eyes and sighs softly. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly. “He loved you and he told me that I was the biggest goddamn fool for breaking up with you.”

“We were kids.” It’s not a good reason but it’s still a reason, and you’re not willing to rehash your breakup at 3am over milk with his infant.

“Yeah.” He can see that you are building walls against the conversation. He turns Luna over and pops the bottle into her mouth. “Well…I better let you get back to bed.” He murmurs. “Goodnight.”

“I—” The feeling of being dismissed from your own kitchen is uncomfortable at best, and you frown before setting your glass in the dishwasher and simply stepping away. “Sorry to have disturbed you. Goodnight.”

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave and he hates how it seems like you’ve taken three steps back. Sighing softly, he looks down at Luna staring up at him. “What?” He asks her softly. “I didn’t do anything.”

******

By the next morning, you’ve resolved to apologize. Being short with him was unnecessary and doesn’t exactly make things easier for anyone. Not to mention, Frankie is having a hard enough time as it is without you getting mopey that he hasn’t just sat down beside you on the couch and snuggled you into his side like you want him to.

Getting up early, you head back downstairs and start making up a big pan of French toast and another whole tray of bacon. Sure there’s only three of you, but baking breakfast will give you time to make some fresh baby food for Luna, something you had loved doing for Rachel as well.

Frankie wakes up to the sounds of stirring in the kitchen. Groaning quietly at the aches and pains of his older self. Getting older sucks and it’s compounded by the abuse he put his body through when he was in the Army. Glancing at the clock, he sighs and sits up, grabbing his shirt. He will need to get started on the lawn before Luna wakes up.

The coffee pot has just finished bubbling when he gets downstairs, the rich, black brew piping hot and mixing with the other smells in the kitchen to be nothing short of enticing. Coffee, cinnamon, vanilla, bacon, and apples all mix together in the early morning like a welcoming curtain of comfort.

“Smells good.” Frankie shoves his hat on his head. “Baby’s still asleep. Thought I would get started on the grass.”

"Okay." Even though you nod, you gesture slightly at the baby monitor in his hand. "Do you want to leave that with me? I can get her changed and fed while breakfast cooks. She's got fresh apple and sweet potato puree for this morning."

“You’re too good to us—her.” Frankie huffs, shooting you a small smile. “After I get done, I’ll take her right back. I promise.”

"Frankie..." Your palms sweat and you hate yourself for being so affected by him still, but here you are. So deeply affected that you feel like you're fifteen all over again. "I wanted to apologize. For last night."

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Frankie shakes his head. “I was…out of line.”

"I shouldn't have been dismissive, or snapped at you. It's not out of line to want to talk about our past." Exhaling softly, you lean back against the counter and bite your bottom lip as you debate how much is really wise to say. "It's just bringing up a lot of old emotions and I wasn't prepared to work through them thoroughly at three in the morning."

“Yeah,” Frankie shuffles slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He hums quietly. “I know that it’s hard. I should have just kept quiet.”

"No." You shake your head and take a step back toward him instead of shrinking away again. "No, that's...keeping quiet and hiding things from each other is how I got us into this mess. I don't want to perpetuate that anymore."

Frankie sighs. “No, me being a fucking asshole is what got us into the mess of you raising a kid by yourself.” He tells you.

"I should have just told you." Twenty-four years of hindsight is twenty-twenty. "If I hadn't been so scared, it would have worked out eventually."

“And I should have come back.” Frankie snorts. “I should have found you. Begged you to take me back.” He puts his hands on his hips. “There’s a million things I shouldn’t have done, or should have.”

"I should have figured out how to write to you at boot camp. Or found your parents after they moved. Anything." Your arms cross over your chest in some kind of unconscious half-mirroring of him, but you end up swallowing a sigh. "Rachel does that, you know. Her hands on her hips, like you do. There's so much of you in her and I'm so sorry that you missed some of it."

Those words make him close his eyes. Absorbing them and trying not to let them hurt as bad as they do. “I just don’t want to miss any more.”

"I don't want you to, either." It's a small admission. Also too little, too late. But at least it's honest. "And neither does she."

“I know you don’t – this isn’t ideal.” Frankie admits. “You don’t really want me here. And I just don’t want to overstep.”

"Why do you think I don't want you here?" Can you guess at plenty of reasons? Of course. But you're curious to know why he assumes you would have invited him into your home if you didn't want him here at all.

“Who wants their ex in their house?” Frankie snorts. “I’ve cost you your relationship, made you a babysitter and make you uncomfortable by bringing up a past I can’t forget.” He practically whispers the last part, almost ashamed of it.

Something about the whole scenario just makes you crack in your chest and you almost cave in on yourself, letting the words out before you can stop yourself. Six simple words, but with so much meaning. "I don't care. I miss you."

Frankie bites his lip, curling his hands into his hips to keep from reaching for you. “You miss who I was.” He reminds you. “I’ve become a very different one.”

"So have I." You weren't expecting rejection to sting as much as it does, even though you don't even know that you actually offered enough for him to reject. It still makes you want to cry, though, in a very vulnerable and surprised sort of way. "That doesn't mean we aren't still who we are at the core."

“I’ve…done things.” Frankie admits. “Bad things. Things that would make you curl away from me in disgust.”

"Nobody's pure." But you shuffle a little where you're standing and look up again, actually looking him in the eyes. "Santiago told me about South America. Everything. So I'm not as much of a wilting flower as you might think."

“Never said you were.” He knows you are strong, capable. You raised Rachel by yourself and all the struggles that it entailed.

"I'm not trying to force anything." Though if it happened, you would absolutely not be opposed to it. You've realized that in the three days since Frankie and Luna moved into your house. "I'm just saying, if I didn't want you here, or I didn't want to know who you are now...then you wouldn't be here at all. I just wouldn't have offered, regardless of anything Rachel said."

“Maybe you shouldn’t have offered.” Frankie snorts. “Fuck knows you wouldn’t have if you know what I think about around you.” He’s just determined to beat himself up, still depressed and trying to self-sabotage without the use of coke.

That just makes you scoff, shoving your hands in your pockets weakly because what you really want to do is cross the kitchen tiles and just throw your arms around him like you always used to. "I fully expect you to hate me. I'm not going to make you leave my house just because you rightfully dislike your ex for keeping your daughter from you."

He stares at you for a moment before he laughs. “You think I hate you?” He demands roughly. “Hate doesn’t have me dreaming about seeing if I could beat the goddamn record I set when we were seventeen.” He hisses. “Hate doesn’t have me waking up in the middle of the night with my hand around my cock because you still smell the same and those sheets smell like you. Hate isn’t something I want to do to you, gatita.”

For about three full seconds, all you can do is stand there and stare at him. It's like your mind had shut down trying to comprehend what he is saying to you and is only slowly booting back up like an ancient computer. A small squeak escapes you and all the air goes out of your chest just before water pricks at your eyes, and all of a sudden you're moving straight across the kitchen to kiss him before you can even process what you're doing.

Frankie had fully expected a hand across his cheek, so when you launch yourself at him, he’s shocked. Groaning against your lips for a split second before he’s wrapping his arms around you, one hand cradling your head to keep you close. To keep you kissing him.

He's thicker than he was as a gangly teenager. Age has given him muscles and then softened them again, making him pliant under your touch just as much as you are under his. The powerful magnet of attraction between you leaves no room for questioning in the moment. You're just two people clinging desperately to each other and to hope, and the first slide of your tongue against his when your lips part to deepen the kiss is like coming home. A very specific, very teenage home – but this is still where your heart lives.

Frankie groans, finding it to be his turn to move. Turning and pressing you against the counter as he drowns in this kiss. It feels so right, despite the mistakes that he has made, the sins he has committed, he tastes nothing but the overwhelming sense of rightness in your lips.

He had dipped down to find the perfect angle to capture your soft moan when it crossed your lips, but now Frankie straightens again. Breaking your head so it won’t hit the cabinets, his other hand pulls you close at the waist — expanded, soft from carrying and birthing a baby and simply being alive for more than forty years — as your hands wander his body to recommit every plane of him to memory. There’s a beautiful rosy nostalgia over the kiss even with the nearly feral need each of you feels, and something drastic might have happened if not for the soft cry of surprise that emanates from the half-light of the living room.

Pulling back in surprise, Frankie’s eyes widen when he sees Rachel standing there. “Uh, I—” he glances at you, unsure of what to say at this point.

“Rach, why don’t you go check on your sister?” You suggest, feeling the reason that Frankie might need a couple of minutes to calm down throb and jump against your hip. Not that your restraint is much better. You’re going to need to change your panties just from being kissed.

“Uh, sure, I can do that.” She nods dramatically, whirling around. “Then I—I’m going to go over to Ben’s. All day. I’ll text when I come back.”

“Breakfast in five minutes!” You call after her, not sure if she’s actually heard you or not as her footsteps ascend the stairs all over again. She’s gone again in a flash and you bite your lip when your eyes track back to Frankie, no guilt or embarrassment in your expression, only a little bit of sheepishness at being caught.

“Well, I think that embarrassed her.” Frankie comments as he looks over to you. He doesn’t know exactly what you are thinking, but it’s not regret on your face. That makes a ghost of a smile curl up the edges of his mouth.

“Don’t let her fool you.” The warmth in your cheeks is only matched by the warmth in the rest of you, waves of it crawling under your skin with how close he is. “She thinks I don’t know that she’s wanted her parents back together since she was five years old.”

“She didn’t know me.” Frankie frowns slightly and hopes this isn’t just some kind of wish fulfillment.

“I used to tell her more.” You admit, though you’re not sure if that’s good or bad. It’s selfish, but it was also survival. “I stopped when she got old enough to realize that…” Blowing out a breath, your eyes drop down from his. He probably does not want to hear this, despite kissing you back just now. “That I’ve still always had feelings for you.”

“You— you still wanted to be with me?” He’s surprised that you would, given how he had left. “Baby….its— I’ve always regretted leaving you. I called you.” He reveals. “Several times….but I never could say anything.”

“You called?” Your eyebrows raise back all the way up your forehead, eyes watery with hopeful tears that you refuse to shed and ruin the moment. “Oh no…” A gasp leaves you, almost washing out the sounds of Rachel and Luna cooing and giggling at each other over the baby monitor. “You called…in the two years after you left for the Army?”

“Yeah.” Frankie chokes out, looking away and feeling ashamed that he hadn’t been able to fucking say a word when he had called your house. “After I got out of bootcamp. I would fucking dial your number at least twice a week. Every time, someone would pick up and I couldn’t say a word. Didn’t have the words I wanted to say.”

“And then…after a while…the number stopped working?” You guess, biting back a sigh of regret.

“Yeah.” He frowns and tilts his head. “How did you—”

“Because my parents got their phone number changed after we had so many hangups in such a short amount of time,” you explain, now feeling guilty for what had happened. “They thought it was some criminal or stalker or something. We moved about a year later anyway.”

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, closing his eyes and berating himself for his fucking stupidity. “I just— I choked every time I tried to ask for you. In fucking Delta training and I couldn’t fucking apologize.”

“No use in being upset about it now…” Those days are twenty years past. A lifetime ago and then some. And you’re stuck in the here and now with your hand still flexing at his hip. “We should…talk, though. Rach is going to have a million questions.”

“Of course.” He nods and slides his hands over his lounging pants. “What— you start.”

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it… You tell yourself sternly, eyes flickering down to where his large hands stretch dangerously to other, equally interesting parts of him. “We both just…we were seeing other people. Until literally a few days ago.” If you don’t remind yourselves of that you feel like you’ll burst. “But…I miss you. And I do still have feelings for you. And…and if you’re open to it, when you’re ready, I think finding out how we could be together as adults is— well, it’s a long time coming, would you say?”

That….is not what he expected you to say. He had expected to hear something about taking it slow or perhaps it should be kept quiet, but not that. “I’ve never stopped having feelings for you.” Frankie promises you softly. “And I— I’ve missed you every goddamn day.”

“I’m not going to push you for anything. Not quickly, not ever.” Whatever he wants to have with you, you want it to be freely given just like you intend to give freely. “I kind of…really love seeing you in my house like this…”

He looks down at his clothes, like that might explain what you are talking about. “Rumpled?” He jokes quietly.

“That’s one word for it,” You admit, grinning softly. “I was thinking sexy, though.”

“If tired, ex-military dad is sexy, I guess I’m it.” Frankie smirks.

“It is.” You can’t help but laugh a little. “Definitely.”

He steps closer to you again. “Well, do you want to drool over this tired dad mowing the grass?” He teases. “I’ll even do it shirtless.”

“Eat breakfast with us first.” That is something you’ll insist on, especially since the timer is about to go off on the oven in about twenty seconds. “And then I’ll sit and gawk at the dining room table afterward.”

Frankie snorts but agrees with a nod. “It smells amazing. You are a great cook.”

“You always liked breakfast, so I took a shot that you would like Rachel’s favorite baked French toast.” You’re going to need to open the oven in just a few seconds, but the last thing you want to do is pull away from the heat of him. “I swear I can do more than just casseroles now.”

He chuckles quietly. “Better than me. Although I need to learn. Luna deserves to have a parent who can feed her more than frozen dinners.” You also deserve to have some of the burden lifted off of you, but that’s another conversation.

“I’ll teach you if you want?” There were a couple of family recipes his mother taught you when you were teenagers that Rachel loves, and plenty of other things of course. But when the timer goes off and you’re forced to step away reluctantly, you add: “And I bet Rachel would, too. She’s pretty damn good in her own right. It might be something you can do together.”

“Maybe we can all do it?” Frankie asks hopefully. Wanting to spend time with both of you. “Between the two of you, I might have a fighting chance.”

“Absolutely.” You’re about willing to promise him anything he wants right now, but first it’s just about taking the pans out of the oven and stifling the need to steal one more kiss when you hear Rachel descend the stairs with a happily babbling Luna in her arms.

“Good.” Frankie makes sure you aren’t holding a pan when he swoops in again. Planting a quick, hard kiss on your lips. “Later.” He whispers, much like he had promised so many years ago when you were about to be interrupted.

It’s good that the girls make plenty of noise coming downstairs so no one else can hear the more-than-slightly-pitiful whimper that Frankie pulls out of you, but you snap back into reality well enough to clamp your mouth shut and motion for him to grab plates from the cupboard without imploding.

“Everyone decent?” Rachel calls out before her head pokes around the door. “There’s a small child present!”

“We were never not decent,” you point out, waving your daughter into the room. “Do you want to get your sister’s cup of food or help your dad set the table?” It’s possibly the most domestic sentence you’ve said…maybe ever, and it rolls through you like summer sunrise.

“Whatever you need me to do.” Her grin is wide and proudly embarrassed as she eyes both of you. “Soooooooooooo. Mom.” She tilts her head towards you with a glint in her eyes. “Do we need to have the safe sex talk, young lady?”

“Your very existence is proof that it’s too late for that,” you remind her, but a smirk forms in the corner of your mouth either way. “Let’s all sit down to eat and we can talk a little. Okay?”

“Seriously though.” Rachel turns towards her dad. “You hurt my mom, and I’ll sic Ben on you.” She warns playfully.

“Sweet pea, get your sister settled and we’ll all talk,” you insist, biting your lip a little at the idea of anything going wrong again. You don’t like it and you don’t even want to process it right now.

“Okay.” It’s more you using ‘sweet pea’ instead of anything else that makes her nod and move to get Luna settled in her high chair. You are upset about something, or avoiding it and she wonders what it is.

It takes a few minutes to get everyone settled and served, but you manage it pretty well and Frankie gets Luna fed before digging in for himself.

“So….” Frankie takes a bite, groaning and rolling his eyes happily at the taste of the casserole. “This is good.” He moans. “Like the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten.” He might have been about to start this talk, but now he’s distracted by the breakfast.

"Iknowright?" Rachel mumbles all at once, thrilled to see her favorite breakfast materialize on the table without asking for it.

“So good.” He forks up another bite before reaching for the syrup again to add more to the French toast bake.

"At least I know I can subdue you both with French toast if you get out of hand," you tease, looking between father and daughter at the table and snorting a laugh.

Both of them look up at you at the same time, forks halfway to their mouths, with the exact same disgruntled expression on their faces.

"Goddamn I wish you could see yourselves right now." It isn't that you didn't know Rachel was like her father. You had known that for her whole life. But seeing them side by side throws it into sharp relief. "Look at these two," you coo to Luna, reaching over to tickle the baby's soft and chubby belly in that way that makes her giggle. "They're exactly the same, aren't they sweetheart?"

It’s fucking amazing, how you are with Luna. Frankie had always felt like Marie wasn’t as maternal or soft as he thought she should be, but then immediately felt guilty for thinking that way. He’s just happy that you are obviously thrilled to have a baby in the house. “We have some similar traits?” He asks, looking over at Rachel.

"Apparently a lot." Rachel shrugs, not knowing she does it in the same way as her father and always has. "According to Mom, Ben should have picked up a vibe really fast."

"I think it just made him subconsciously more comfortable with you," you clarify, forking up another bite of your own breakfast. "Which is a good thing. I'm not saying he should have been confused by it or anything."

Frankie chuckles lightly and reaches over to pick up another spoonful of the puréed apples and sweet potato to feed to Luna. “He would have just thought you were weird.” He jokes.

"To be fair, he does think I'm weird," Rachel clarifies. Her coffee is getting low and she stretches to grab the pot for a refill. "But he likes that about me."

He snorts and nods, holding up his cup when she offers to refresh his. “Ben’s weird himself, so that checks out.”

"Weird is better." You've always thought so. Even used to say so when you were younger. "It's more interesting."

“You used to say I was your perfect kind of weird.” Frankie blurts out, remembering when you would lovingly coo it to him. He would always roll his eyes, but he enjoyed it.

"You were." The reminder – the fact that he even remembers you saying that – warms through you and your face burns bashfully. "Probably still are, if we're honest."

“I think that makes you even weirder.” Frankie snorts, shooting you a playful look. “Because….look at me.”

"I'm not exactly the world's most exciting person, Frankie." You aim a shrug in his direction, doctoring your refilled mug of coffee. "It took me a long time, but for the most part I'm happy with where I am in life. That doesn't make me too interesting, though."

“No, nothing is interesting about a strong, beautiful, capable woman who has raised an equally beautiful daughter by herself, made a comfortable life for her and still maintained the sweetness of youth.” Frankie narrows his eyes slightly, hating how you put yourself down.

"And she has a super fucking cool job, too." Rachel pipes up, obviously ready to back her father up on this one. "Working for the Mouse means we get to go to the parks for free. Luna's going to love it just like I did."

“Just because you went, doesn’t mean Luna will get tickets too, sweetheart.” Frankie reminds her.

“Of course we’ll go.” The idea that Frankie doesn’t think you’d treat his baby daughter well hits you somewhere deep in your chest and you work not to frown. “Unless you don’t want to go? Then we’ll just have a girl’s day.”

“It’s not—” he’s offended you, something that he wasn’t trying to do and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way you took it. I just— I never assume anything.” He tells you. “Just because you have tickets doesn’t mean you owe them us, that’s all.”

“It isn’t that I owe it to you.” Reaching across the space at the table in front of Luna’s highchair, you squeeze his hand gently. “But Rach is right, even if she didn’t exactly mean to point it out. We’re a family.”

Frankie looks over at Luna and smiles softly, the baby is shoving her fingers in her mouth and cooing happily. “You ever want more kids?” He asks.

"All the time." You don't mind answering that honestly, but you shrug your shoulders and pick up a piece of bacon from your plate. "I don't relish being referred to as a geriatric pregnancy, though."

“You aren’t geriatric.” Frankie frowns and shakes his head. “Hell— I mean…I thought this was my first go round, but I missed the first.” He hates it, but he reaches over and takes Rachel’s hand with his other. Holding both of your hands.

"Geriatric pregnancies are anyone giving birth over the age of thirty-five." Rachel clarifies for her father, fully putting aside her fork to hold his hand with both of hers. "Mom just doesn't want to feel old. Even though she says I'm the thing that made her old." The last thought comes with a teasing grin thrown your way.

“Hell, I feel ancient knowing I have a grown ass daughter.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “I know she feels the same way, considering she had to carry you.”

Your own half-laugh sounds when you swing your head over to look at him. "You make big babies, Morales."

He chuckles and shrugs slightly. “That might be why Marie was never happy after Luna.” He jokes. “She was nearly eleven pounds, believe it or not.”

Rachel snorts, forkful of food halfway to her mouth, and grins. "Twins. I was eleven pounds, too. Eleven pounds and...twenty inches?" She looks to you when she can't remember.

"Twenty-one." It probably shouldn't, but it makes you laugh at this point. The horror over how big she was at birth is long over with. "The nurse asked me if the father was a giant."

“Definitely not a giant.” Frankie huffs, knowing that he’s shorter and weighs less than Rachel’s boyfriend. But he can still kick his ass.

"To answer your question..." The three of you go back to eating, finishing up your plates with satisfaction. "I absolutely think about having more kids all the time. That's why I love babysitting so much."

“Yeah….” It’s definitely helped him. He had spent so much time worrying about his home life that he couldn’t properly square things away. He owes you a lot. “You’re great with her.”

"If I ever overstep, you just need to tell me." It's been a lot of years since you took care of your own infant. Parenting advice has definitely changed. And as much as you might dream about having another kid, Luna is not your baby. She's Frankie's and that means he has the last word on decisions for her.

“I doubt you could overstep.” He argues but he nods when you just stare at him. “But I will let you know.”

"So..." When the last bite is off her plate, Rachel sits back in her chair with her coffee mug in both hands. "I'm going to go to Ben's..." she repeats her thought from earlier with both eyebrows raised. "All day. Probably for two days...you guys...gonna do anything special?"

Frankie cuts his eyes over to Rachel, knowing exactly what she’s going to be doing thanks to Ben’s fat fucking mouth before he knew she was his daughter. “Talking.” He grunts. “Cutting the grass. Cleaning my guns.”

"Dad..." Since she broke the ice on using that title, Rachel has embraced it. "No guns on Ben."

“No promises.” Frankie huffs. “Fucker deserves it.” He shrugs his shoulders when she squawks at him. “What? I won’t hit anything vital!”

"Sorry, Rach." You snicker softly, under your breath. "This is part of having a Dad."

“I don’t think I like this part.” Rachel rolls her eyes playfully and Frankie rolls his right back.

“Yeah, will I don’t like knowing how my daughter gives a blowjob. So we’re even.”

"Okey dokey." Instantly shooting up from the table, you focus entirely on picking up Luna without looking at Rachel or Frankie. "Gonna take the baby into the living room. I'll clean up later."

“Sorry.” Frankie apologizes as you whisk out of the room like your pants are on fire. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

"She'll get over it." Rachel does smile though, a small and embarrassed expression on her face. "Ben feels like an asshole for talking the way he did, for the record. He apologized to me, too. Even though I don't really care."

“We’ve all talked that way before.” Frankie can admit that. The only reason it became a problem is because of who she is to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t care. “But it’s good he apologized. He really loves you.”

"And I really love him." She promises, absolutely serious. "As his friend, I hope you know that."

“Even as your dad.” It’s a title that always makes him smile when either one of them uses it. “I want you to be with someone who loves you. That’s all I want. He’s a good man.”

"I know it's new..." she sips her coffee as they sit together. "But do you mind that I've started using that name?"

“No.” That’s something he would never mind. “Not at all, I’m….glad you feel comfortable calling me ‘Dad’.” He admits with a small smile. “Just hope that one day that you’re proud that I am your dad.”

"I am proud." Even when he was just her boyfriend's friend, she had always liked Frankie a lot. He's a good guy who doesn't give himself nearly enough credit. "I'm proud of Mom and I'm proud of you, too."

“That…that’s great.” He nods, enjoying the conversation and feeling proud of the fact that she is happy to know him.

"I'm going to clean up and go to Ben's." Pushing back from the table and standing, Rachel puts one hand out to squeeze his shoulder and starts to pick up dishes and stack them in her arms. "Whatever you and Mom end up talking about...just know how much she loves you. My whole life she's never looked at another guy the way she looks at you. I know you mean the world to her."

“You have no reason to really believe me, because of me being gone from your life the entire time you were growing up, but I don’t want to hurt her. Ever again.” Frankie promises. “I think we deserve to be happy.”

"I think so, too." Rachel agrees, but instead of letting the moment get too serious, she throws her father a grin and nods toward the backyard. "So go mow the lawn so she can have a good ogle. I'll clean up from breakfast before I go."

Frankie snorts, aware that her knowledge of that meant she had been eavesdropping, but he doesn’t mind it. “Thanks,” he tosses her his own grin and pushes back from the table to at least clear his plate. “Plus, it’ll be good for her not to have to do the grass.”

******

“I don’t think you will be less than a mama to her.” He hums as he transfers the baby into your arms. “She will only know you as her mother, especially the way you already love her.”

“Sounds like you’re planning on staying.” And while it’s just an observation, your heart leaps up into your throat so you have to swallow it back done just to breathe.

“If that’s what we decide.” He won’t push his way in. Luna yawns and leans her head against your shoulder in a move that makes him smile. “We can talk about it later. She’s sleepy and I need a shower.”

“I’ll put her down for her nap. You go clean up, love.” Honestly? You dread the thought of Frankie leaving again. Even having him leave to go to work will have you in a state of anxiety for a while, even if you’re doing your best to hold it together for the girls’ sakes. Luna needs a steady caregiver and Rachel absolutely does not need to see you anxious or worrying over her father.

“Come talk to me after you get her down?” He asks, knowing it won’t take him long to shower. He would probably be dressed by the time you get her down.

“Absolutely.” Not having to talk over the baby’s head is a good place to start, if nothing else. You lean in when he moves to kiss your cheek again and then part, with Frankie heading to the bathroom and you heading into what is now Luna’s nursery.

Frankie has been trained by the military. He was never an untidy person to start, but an entire career in the Army had taught him how to clean and be efficient in showering. He does take a little more time today, trimming his beard and shaving, wanting to clean up a little more for you.

As predicted, by the time you get Luna settled down for her nap, you hear the shower shut off down the hall. A small stop off in your own room might just be to check your hair and that you haven’t had a bit of bacon stuck in your teeth all morning. Once you’ve decided he’s had enough time to dress and you can’t stall anymore, you grab the baby monitor and go down the hall to knock on his door.

Because of the shaving, Frankie is still wrapped in a towel, secured at his waist. Still, he doesn’t hesitate. “Come in.”

"Luna's down for her uh— her, her nap," you report, only barely stammering when you see Frankie standing by the bed and sighing inwardly at the way your mouth runs dry.

“Good.” He doesn’t smirk, although he wants to. You alternate between staring and looking away in embarrassment.

"It's gonna be hard to talk if I can't look you in the eye." Which is stupid, because it's not like he wasn't the first person in the world you were naked with – but here you are flustered like a teenager all over again.

“Does it bother you?” Frankie asks, looking down. “That I’m not dressed? You knocked on my door.”

"It doesn't bother me." But you do feel the need to clarify, for the sake of the situation. "It's just very distracting."

“Distracting, huh?” Frankie was never more confident than he was with you and since being here, that has started to come back. “Wonder why that is.”

"Because you're handsome, Francisco," you huff, fully amused, and roll your eyes at him for effect.

“And you’re gorgeous, gatita.” He murmurs.

"We should probably have that talk." Instinctively, shutting the door comes with stepping inside, even though it isn't necessary. Maybe it's a leftover reflex from seeking privacy in the apartments where you grew up.

“Okay.” Frankie moves over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweats to slide on under the towel so you won’t be uncomfortable.

"You want to go first?" The only place in the room to sit is on the guest bed, and you perch on the end with your hands under your thighs and nerves jittering out of control.

“You look like you need get things off your chest.” Frankie hums. “You can go first.”

"I'm just...trying to think about what comes next." Your fingers twist in the blanket, making you look even more nervous than you feel. "I make plenty enough to support this family while you get things cleared up with your license. This is a stable home for Luna with actual family to help look after her. "If what you want is to be back together, we're in a very good position to make it work."

“I have my retirement.” Frankie reminds you. “I don’t expect you to support us. I want to take care of you too.” He never wants to take advantage of you. He wants to give you more than he ever takes.

"Do you actually still enjoy flying? Is it something you want to get back to? Or is it what you were doing because you were made to?" It's a fair question, and one you don't ask easily. But you get the feeling that before this, Frankie didn't get a lot of options.

“I love it.” Frankie admits. “I’m fucking good at it, completely in love with it. Why?”

"I wasn't sure if Marie had given you a chance to actually choose what you love to do, instead of just what would make money," you admit. "I was going to offer that you could take your time. Pursue whatever you wanted to, or even be a stay at home Dad for a while if that's something that interests you. I just..." One hand sneaks out from under your thigh and reaches for him as you sit on the bed. "I want you to be happy, baby. Truly happy."

“I—” Frankie’s never thought about being a stay at home dad. “I volunteered for flight school. Being in the air, flying, it’s like second nature to me now.” He tells you, kneeling down in front of you. “But…I wouldn’t mind staying home with Luna.” He admits. “I would be happy with that for a bit. I could fly part time. Spend most of it with her, still get my thrills from flying.”

"I don't want you to do what you feel you have to." That point can't have enough emphasis for you. It really is the backbone of everything you want for his future – that it is a future he chooses for himself out of passion and excitement. "If flying is what you want to do, then find the job that makes you the most excited. That lets you balance and be happy and not run yourself into the ground like I know you've been doing because you're still the same Frankie that I fell in love with when we were just kids."

“What I have to do is to be a good example to Luna, to Rachel.” He tells you. “To give them everything I can and make you happy too.”

"And I have every faith that you'll do that." Just once, you lost your faith in Frankie Morales because of fear. You're not going to let it happen again, when you're finally in a position for both of you to really have everything you've ever wanted.

“Can I kiss you again?” Frankie asks, looking into your eyes.

It's like feeling a light switch flip somewhere in your body, and you light up all over. Including your brightest smile. "I really want you to."

Frankie smiles, huffing out a small laugh as he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours again.

The momentum tips you backward on the bed, laying you out on the bed underneath him and making you reach up to grab his shoulders to steady yourself. It's not a small kiss or a tentative one, but one that blots out the rest of the world, making sure the only thing you can possibly think of is him.

It’s been a long time since he has been so enthusiastic about kissing someone, but this is just like your first time all over again. He’s nervous, excited. Age and experience are the only things keeping his hips from rocking an already hard erection against your stomach as he covers your body with his own.

If anyone was trying to tell the difference between you and Frankie as teenagers and you and Frankie now, they would find the task almost impossible. An all-consuming kiss, wandering grasping hands, and only the barest thread of restraint are all hallmarks of the two of you together. If he had still been wearing that towel it would be gone in an instant, but as it is one of your hands slides all the way down to the waistband of his sweatpants and grips in earnest.

“Fuck.” Drowning in you is where he wants to stay. Barely breathing and pulling himself away to kiss down your neck. Wanting to kiss every inch of you. “I— I got checked out.” He groans against your neck. “Physical. I’m clean.”

The pause that gives you is immediate, freezing under him in embarrassment. “I—I haven’t yet. Since…it’s only been a few days. I have condoms though.” With all the upheaval since ending things with Santiago, getting tested had slipped your mind.

“It’s – Pope’s clean.” He knows his brother in arms. He knows how the man is. He might have been a man whore before, but he doesn’t sleep with multiple women. If he was with you, he was tested and only slept with you. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I—” Maybe its impulsive. Or overly emotional. But when Frankie meets your eyes all you can do is tell him the truth. “I just want to feel you again.”

Frankie groans and nods, nudging his nose against yours and kissing you again. “I want that too.” He insists, pulling away to start peeling your clothes off of you as efficiently as possible.

The pair of leggings and light dress you had reached for this morning in an effort for minimal fuss might as well be nothing at all in the face of Frankie’s determination. The thin cotton dress is up over your head in no time and the leggings peel off of you with all the difficulty of a two-piece puzzle. “I didn’t expect this…” you admit quietly, telling him I’m not so many words that you would have at least picked a matching bra and panties set this morning if you thought there was a possibility he would see them.

“Neither did I,” his smooth cheek would suggest otherwise, but he grins and leans down to kiss down your chest. “But I don’t care about panties, hair, or anything else. I just want you.”

It’s useless that he felt the need to put on pants, because now you’re pushing them off his hips with both hands and biting back a groan at the softness of him. He’s filled out, because of course he has, and the scars from his missions echo your stretch marks in all the years that have been lost between you.

“Gatita…” Your nickname comes out like a prayer, his lips worshipping every inch of your skin.

“Bet it’s been a while since you’ve groaned that name.” It’s certainly been long enough since you heard it like that, a fact that shivers through you with increasing excitement.

“Not true.” He admits with a small smirk as he looks up at you. “You were still my favorite jerk off memory.”

“Still moaning my name while you get yourself off?” Someone that’s simultaneously the sweetest and filthiest thing you’ve heard in ages and you open your legs wider to let him rest in that valley between your thighs. “Let’s see if we can give you something new to think about.”

He gives another filthy groan, aware that things have changed, but he doesn’t care. Your stretch marks are gorgeous to him, you gave birth to his child. Every mark is special. You are just as sexy to him as you were when you both were teenagers. He pulls your bra down and wraps his lips around one nipple as he slides his fingers between your folds to find your clit.

“Fuck, Frankie!” Careful not to be too loud since Luna is napping down the hall, you bite back letting a real shout out and it turns into more of a growl. Your hands are on him instantly, grasping at his shoulders, curling in his hair, and holding him in tight against you as your hips snap up to seek out his thick fingers.

He chuckles darkly, very pleased to find that you are reactive and vocal in your older years. Keeping you quiet had been a favorite game of his.

It isn’t really that different from when you were young. The desire is there as clear as day, coursing through you and sparking with every touch. Every kiss is endlessly deep, like you hold the key to each other’s lives somewhere inside yourselves and the hunt for that missing piece is as deliberate as it is lazy.

Fingers circle your throbbing sex, slicking themselves up with the arousal that is pouring out of you before he dips them inside. Remembering how you loved to be fingered when you were younger, even letting him do it on the subway under a jacket.

If it were anyone else, you might be embarrassed at how thoroughly dripping you are for him already. But Frankie was the first to feel how wet you get from something as simple as being kissed just right, and the hope that is making your pulse beat wildly out of time right now is that he will also be the last. The bookends of your lives might always have been meant to be each other.

The key to making your legs shake and your pussy clench around him is to start slowly. Pushing two fingers deep and curling them up as your walls stretch around him. Groaning at your nipple and flicking his tongue over the stiff peak.

For as well as he remembers your body, it might as well be yesterday that he last touched you and not twenty-five years ago. Your back bows and you moan again, fingernails scraping against his scalp in the way that always makes him growl gorgeously.

“Shit.” Frankie hisses in pleasure, pulling his fingers back and enjoying the sucking sound that they make in your sopping wet pussy. Only to press his thumb to your clit and plunge them back deep again.

The whines and whimpers he pulls from you are as deliberate as any musician playing their instrument in an orchestra. He still plays you expertly. Like muscle memory. He is the one who taught you so much of what brings you pleasure, and you did the same for him. It's all you can do in this moment to get your mind into high gear like the rest of your body, and reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his cock.

"Fuck." He groans, rocking his hips up towards the long-wanted touch of your hands. "You always touch me— fuck," he moans your name. "You touch me like no one else ever has."

"Always make me feel so good, baby," you pant out, body twisting every second to be able to be as close to him as possible. "Always want to return the favor."

"You will." He promises. "Let me make you feel good."

"You always do." The promise is absolute, because he really always knows how to make you feel better than anything else ever could.

His fingers continue to pump into you, working you higher and higher as every sensitive nerve ending in your pussy is set on fire by his touch. The tell-tale sign is when your legs begin to shake, thighs tightening and pussy clenching around his fingers. The long strokes of your hand over his cock stutter as pleasure starts to short-circuit your mind, making you forget everything except how good you feel. Frankie has always been good with his hands, but he's definitely learned a few tricks over the years.

Your pussy clenches around his fingers like a vice and he keeps pumping them into you. Wanting to wring you of every second of pleasure you will give him. The quiet cry of his name is like a shot of lightning through his system. "Good girl, fuck gatita. You're so good for me."

It's not you who is being good right now, but Frankie who is treating you so well that when you cry out in pleasure there are actual tears in your eyes. The peak of that pleasure that he's been building you up to is so high that you almost get the sensation of falling when your body finally tenses, shaking you apart at the seams so that the only part of you that hangs on as you start to cum are the parts of you that he has claimed as his own.

His lips still skim over your body as he works you through it. Whispering praises into your skin in Spanish as he watches your face in awe. Struck by how beautiful you are, crushed that he has been so stupid as to walk away so long ago. Determine to make up for lost time.

Whimpering when the aftershocks leave you limp underneath him, both of your hands urge Frankie back up your body, needing to kiss him more than you need air in this moment.

He hums proudly as he shuffles up, kissing you lazily with a grin curving his lips. “Sounds like you just came, gatita.” He teases quietly.

“You’re a menace, Frankie Morales.” The observation is as true now was it was twenty-five years ago.

"Your menace." He adds, smirking slightly as he kisses you again. It sounds amazing, being yours again. He's always been yours in his heart, but now...it's a second chance for both of you.

“I love you, baby.” Another kiss for him is gentler this time. His face is full of promises and his eyes shine bright in the early afternoon light that streams in through his windows.

"I love you." He vows softly, reaching up and caressing your cheek. "I want to make love to you."

“Please.” It might sound like begging, and maybe it is, but it’s been far too long since the last time you laid in this man’s arms and right now you don’t want to be anywhere else.

Every touch is calculated, timed. Meant to show you how much he is cherishing you and this moment means the world to him. He kisses your lips and whispers his love for you once again as he shifts and lines up with your welcoming entrance.

Every stitch of clothing between you is gone along with your inhibitions. Nothing to interrupt you as long as Luna stays asleep and you are definitely not going to do anything to wake up that angel. You'll swallow down every cry or pour it into kissing Frankie and just basking in the beauty of having him back in this moment.

"I love you, gatita." They were the same words that he had whispered to you when he had pushed inside you the first time, repeated now as he slowly starts to sink into you. Watching every micro expression you make as he feels like he is coming home.

“I love you s—so much.” You’ve never been overtly emotional about sex. Not really. You weren’t the kind of girl who cried at the emotional moment of losing your virginity or got choked up over a loving vow made in the heat of the moment. But being so connected with Frankie again almost has you in tears at the sheer rightness of this moment.

Frankie’s arms slide under you, pulling you close as he starts to pull his hips back. Not wanting there to be an inch of space between you when there doesn’t have to be. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispers. “Not letting you go again.”

The promise rolls through you with such seriousness that you cling to him a little more tightly. “Never going to let you go.” When his hips tilt forward again, filling you and pressing your bodies together just that much tighter, you could swear you feel one of the cracks in your heart knit back together.

His own heart doesn’t ache anymore, the missing piece that has been gaping in his chest is returned to him. Slotted right back into place perfectly and making him whole. Kissing you again as age and emotions make this time last much longer than your first together.

Moans and praises stay stifled not because of a small apartment with family nearby, not because of friends or because the moment is stolen or illicit, but because you’re drowning in kissing each other the entire time. Every movement is fluid, moving one into the other so it is impossible to tell where you end and he begins, all that matters is that you’re not letting go. Nothing else matters if it isn’t something you can do together — because you’ll never be apart again.

Nothing has ever been as magical as this moment, beyond the first moment he held Luna after she was just born. Nothing can compare to the utter tranquility in his soul, the quiet in his mind as he gives and takes from you in equal parts.

Who knows how long you stay in that bed, turning over each other, clinging and moaning low into drawn out kisses. Who knows how long you stay there or how many times you change positions, keeping each other as close as possible while you work through the bliss of reunion up to the precipice of pleasure. By the time his hips start to stutter and the coil of orgasm starts to tug at the pit of your stomach, you’re on top of him — riding him even as you pour your heart into sobbing praise.

Looking up at you in wonder, all he can do is watch as you splinter yourself into pieces on top of him. Mixing and mingling with him until he is tugging you back close and devouring your mouth in another kiss. Breathing his amazement into you.

You shatter together, finding that remarkable peak of pleasure all at once, and holding tight to each other as you ride out the aftershocks as one.

It goes on forever. Or at least it seems too. Both of you drifting down together until you are collapsed against his chest and breathless. Frankie aching with the first good pain he’s felt in such a long time.

“I love you, baby.” This is it. This is home. The closest to paradise you have ever been or will ever be is in this man’s arms and you’re not going to let another second of your life pass without him being a part of it.

“I love you too, gatita.” He wraps an arm around you and strokes your bare back softly. “I had a thought today, one that’s horrible, but it’s true.” You hum, lifting up to your elbow to look at him curiously. “I wished that you were Luna’s mother. That she was our second baby together.” He chuckles. “Or that late in life ‘whoops’.”

“You never know,” you hum softly, cradled on his chest with your knees still bracketing his hips. If you never move again, you’ll be only too happy to be this close to him. “I still have a couple of years in me as far as baby making goes. Only a few, but they’re still there. And Luna…Frankie, I already love her. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to her myself.”

His brow lifts in surprise. “Would you really want that?” He asks seriously. “Another baby? With me?”

“I don’t know if it’s possible or safe,” you remind him gently, lifting your head to kiss him again. “But what if I made an appointment with my doctor to get checked out? Let her tell us if it’s a bad idea before we get our hearts set on it?”

“Whatever you want.” Frankie agrees. “I’m clean.” He promises you softly. “I’m never touching any of that shit ever again.” He told you about the coke and you had taken it surprisingly well, but he wants to remind you that he’s serious.

"I know, love." It was a long and twisted road that led him to that, and Marie was the one driving the proverbial car, so you know it's behind him for sure. But you also know Rachel would never forgive him if he relapsed and something happened to little Luna, and he has the love of two daughters hanging in the balance now. "I also know, whatever happens, I love you and I'm going to be right here at your side."

“My license is going to be reinstated.” He whispers quietly. “One of the board members told me. It’s not official yet, but he….wanted to let me know.”

"Honey that's— that's fantastic." You dive in to kiss him again before reluctantly sliding off of him, letting yourself be tucked into his side instead. "We're gonna make it work this time, Frankie. Every bit of it."

“Even if I don’t fly right away, I have my retirement. My disability.” He promises. “I can help you. I need to help you.”

"We'll make up a budget, and we'll make sure everyone is contributing to the house somehow." The grin playing at your lips is soft, and you brush some hair out of his eyes. "Luna can contribute with giggles. The adults will take care of the rest."

“She also blows great raspberries.” He jokes, still slowly caressing your back and hoping this moment never ends.

As if the mention of her name was enough, the sounds of movement from over the baby monitor are nondescript for a minute or so before the soft cooing of a wakening baby turns to the blustering that comes before cries. "Well..." you huff a small laugh and lift yourself up on your elbow. "At least she let us finish."

Frankie laughs and taps your hip. “I’ll get her.” He promises.

"I'm gonna clean up and then I'll meet you downstairs?" The domesticity of the whole thing makes you smile, and you lay back on the pillow again to admire him as he hauls himself out of bed to pull on his boxers and grabs the baby monitor.

Frankie coos when he opens the door, instantly moving over to the crib to get Luna out. “It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s gotcha.”

It is okay. Life may not be perfect yet but the promise of it is there. He has you back, he has both of his daughters, and he’s going to make it work this time. You all are. As a family.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer @shakespeareanwannabe

TSR: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @darkheartgatita @anoverwhelmingdin @thisishwrworld

My Masterlist!

[d1lfyhorrors]

‘Friendly’ Greeting — Cooper Adams x fem!reader

a/n: i wrote this for funsies! hope you enjoy :D i’m in no way an actual fic writer, i haven’t fully written any fic’s in YEARS.. i’ve started on a few and then gave up lol. so plz go easy on me but i would really appreciate feedback!! i also fear this might be a little self indulgent because girl folded so quick and barely put up a fight. also cooper is still a firefighter in this it just isn’t mentioned.

brief summary: Cooper and his daughter, Riley, are your neighbors that you’ve found yourself cozy with over time. There’s a lot more to him that you’re curious about and soon enough, you get the chance to see a side of him you’d think you’d never expect.

word count: 3,5k

WARNINGS: switch pov, FILTHY SMUT 18+, barely any plot this is just straight up smut, HEAVY DUBCON, afab/fem reader, use of word pussy for reader, dom!cooper, reader calls him ‘sir’ like twice, i feel like cooper adams is just a warning himself he’s a dark man LMAO, rachel is out of the picture cause FUCK RACHEL, unspecified age gap (nothing crazy), he breaks in your house sort of?, descriptions of violence and murder, brief alcohol mention, manipulation, unprotected piv (I DONT ENCOURAGE THIS THO), oral f and m, fingering, choking, hair pulling, face fucking, degradation AND praise, BREEDING KINK (sorry…), use of pet names, creampie. (let me know if i missed anything please!)

——

Cooper isn’t entirely sure what it is about you. Maybe it’s the way you’re always so cheerful and excited to see him along with his daughter Riley. The way you’re so kind and caring towards Riley. He knew how much she liked you and how much she looked up to you. Maybe it’s the way you affect him so deeply with just your presence alone. The way that he’s come to realize deep down inside, he longs for you.

As the time’s passed, his little obsession with you has grown. Dangerously. You consume his thoughts daily. You are now a temptation for him that’s becoming too strong to resist— he just knows that it’s inevitable before he gives in. He hungers for you, all of you. It’s a different kind of hunger compared to his usual— the hunger to kill. In his eyes, you’re an enticing woman he wants all to himself.

You’ve known Cooper since a few weeks after you first moved in next door. His daughter had taken a liking to you quickly that day you introduced yourself to them— from then on, you actually spent quite a good amount of time with them. Hanging out with her in her room, having dinner with her and Cooper, giving her rides whenever he couldn’t. You were like a big sister to her.

He told you about how her mother left them when she was younger. It broke your heart and made you feel for her greatly— moreover it made you feel obligated to be there for her in any way you can.

You find him to be quite a charming man. Certainly handsome, as well as the biggest gentleman. You’ve noticed with time, though, there’s still something a bit off about him— you struggle to put a finger on it. It’s what also causes you to want to get to know him even better. It’s almost like you were drawn to him in a way, but the unknown darkness also makes you hesitant and reluctant.

Cooper’s need to be in control at all times is starting to drive him insane… because of you. That dark, sinister part of him is coming to the forefront. He can’t wait anymore. Now is the time for him to act on it.

He knew it’d be a piece of cake for him to sneak in through your backdoor late at night, considering that’s one of his ‘alter egos’ specialty. He successfully makes it inside your kitchen silently, without alarming you. It only serves to excite him even more.

Today’s been a stressful day at work for you. To be fair, having a corporate office job is always stressful, but your mind was scattered like crazy. Everything has been weighing heavily on you recently and all you wanted to do is get home, take a nice hot shower then go to sleep. But once you got home from work and finished with your shower, you decided to relax on the couch with a bottle of wine.

You’re watching an old black & white horror movie on the TV, sprawled out on your couch, glass of wine in hand. Unbeknownst to you, Cooper stands right behind you in the doorway. He admires you for a bit before speaking up, startling the living hell out of you. “I’ve always liked this movie.”

You whip your head around and jump at the sound of his voice. It almost makes you drop your wine, but thankfully you’re able to save it, quickly setting it down on the coffee table. He smirks as you scramble off of the couch, wrapping your arms around yourself and standing.

It takes a second to realize it’s Cooper— it causes the slightest bit of relief. You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, preparing yourself to respond to his intrusion. “Cooper… how—… what are you doing here?”

His eyes darken as he takes a step closer to you, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood floor. "Is that any way to greet your friendly neighbor?" he asks, his deep voice laced with a dangerous edge.

Cooper crosses his arms over his broad chest, the sleeves of his flannel shirt straining against his biceps. "I thought I'd stop by and say hello." He makes it sound as if this behavior is normal and familiar, even if it’s far from it. This is the first time he’s ever shown up unannounced.

He can surely hear how loud your heart pounds in your chest, towering over you so close that he can smell the faint scent of your fruity shampoo.

You get a whiff of his cologne and it ignites a warmth that pools in your lower belly. You swallow nervously, cheeks flaring up as you whisper softly. “Well, you could’ve given me a heads up before sneaking up on me.” The attempt to appear more composed fails but you can’t find it in yourself to form a better response.

His gaze rakes over your body, filled with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. Cooper licks his lips, voice rumbling. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot… I can’t stop thinking about you, actually.”

There’s a sinister glint that flashes in his eyes that you catch. You’ve seen it before, in the depths of his orbs. It terrified and captivated you in equal measure.

Your lips part but he continues, taking a step closer to you. “About how sweet you’d taste. How soft your skin would feel under my fingertips. How good you’d look under me.”, his voice lowers dangerously with those last words.

”Cooper, stop...”, you stammer before he has the chance to say more. He backs you up against the wall now, placing a hand behind your head, caging you in.

His other hand comes up to grip your chin, tilting your face up towards his. The strength of his grip holds you in place and it makes a whimper bubble up in your throat.

"I want you, sweetheart. And I always get what I want.", he coos, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his eyes blazing with possessiveness.

"So tell me, baby. Are you going to give yourself to me? Or do I have to take what's mine? ‘Cause we both know you want it too. Don’t try to hide it now.”

Cooper has you trembling against the hard surface of the wall, a mixture of fear and lust that’s intoxicating. There’s truth in his words— you know you should be trying to shove him off, running for the hills. You can’t bring yourself to do that when he’s right. There’s a part of you, darker and more curious, that craves this.

The side of you that’s conflicted and wary has words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them, “You’re scaring me…”

You instantly regret it when irritation flashes across his features, other hand sliding down to dig his fingers into your hip painfully.

“Scaring you?”, he repeats in a growl. Your eyes widen when his face hovers just inches from yours. “You have no idea what real fear is, I can promise you that.”

His lips brush against yours in a cruel mockery of a kiss, “I could snap your pretty little neck right now, carve your body up into little pieces and scatter them across the city. No one would ever know it was me.”

The words he uttered has your whole body tensing up. You’re completely helpless, powerless against him. His hand on your chin trails down to brush his fingers over the swell of your breast.

“But I won’t do that, because I wanna keep you. You’re… special. Different, and I want you to be mine in every way possible.”, his voice is softer now, filled with deep emotion.

The shift in his demeanor makes your body melt against him now, and you’re feeling shamefully turned on by him.

Tension aches between your thighs and the last sliver of restraint is gone. You’re so fucked. Any doubts in the world drift away with every passing second.

“Yes, sir. I understand, I’ll do whatever you want.”, you relented sheepishly. Cooper sensed the way you relaxed and gave in— it gave him a sick thrill that made his cock increasingly hard.

He hums in satisfaction then brings a hand up to tangle in your hair, yanking to expose your neck, making you gasp.

“Good girl.”, he purrs in your ear, his breath ghosting over your pulse point. You can feel his erection nudging your thigh and it makes you fucking quiver, a moan forcing it’s way past your lips when he grinds against you.

He dips down to drag his teeth over the hollow of your throat, “You’re learning your place already. Now, get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours for me to fuck.”

Cooper doesn’t give you a chance to even process it, he just tugs your head again and you're instantly dropping in front of him.

Your doe eyes peer up at him as your shaking hands reach out to graze over the bulge through the fabric of his jeans. The breath in your lungs stills the moment you unzip and tug them down his legs along with his boxers. His cock springs free and he gets a sense of pride at the sight of your reaction. Of course he’s massive.

He twitches in anticipation admiring how your lips part. “Take it in your hand first, baby. Stroke it like I know you’ve thought about.”, he commands with an assertiveness that has your panties soaked.

You let your delicate fingers wrap around the base of his cock and he lets out a pleased sigh. “Higher.”, he demands abruptly, his voice gruff. He needs to know just how well he’s broken you, just how much control he wholeheartedly has over you.

Eagerly complying your digits inch up his shaft, squeezing the base of the crown, your thumb gliding over the head. Cooper shudders, the sensation of your softness on him sending a jolt of pleasure through his core. “Now lick it. Taste me, sweetgirl.”, his voice drips with lust.

Your heart races, jaw falling open and he takes the opportunity to thrust himself towards your waiting lips. He groans at the feeling of your hot, wet tongue dragging over his slit, mouth soon after enveloping him. His hand tightens in your hair, shoving his cock in and out, taking your breath away.

“That’s it,” he praises through a pant. “Look at you, so fucking gorgeous like this for me. You were made to be on your knees for me, huh?” A muffled moan of agreement from you vibrates through him, drool gathering at the corners of your lips as he fucks your face with abandon.

“Relax that throat for me, let me in, baby,” he breathes, pulling you forward to force himself deeper.

Cooper lets out a guttural groan, savoring the feeling of your throat, your eyes watering as you choke and gag around him. “Fuck yes, take it like the good little cock slut you are just for me. All mine.”, he grits through his teeth, holding you there for a moment.

Then he pulls back, letting you catch your breath until he’s slamming back in, making your eyes roll back. Cooper sets a brutal pace, his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

Tears stream down your cheeks but you can’t deny how much you’re getting off on this. You’ve submitted yourself to him fully and you’re loving every bit of this now. His pleasure spurs you on, tongue swirling over his underside and taking every inch he gives you.

He recognizes the coil tightening in his gut but he refuses to cum so soon. Even though he’d gladly let you swallow it, right now he craves nothing more than to breed your pussy full of him.

The thought forces him to retreat from your mouth, otherwise he would have shot his load right then.

Cooper brings you back up to your feet, fixing himself and motioning for you to lead him to your bedroom. Once you’ve both made it inside he’s already shoving you down on the mattress, creaking under the weight as he straddles you.

You’ve barely spoken at all but you’re still rendered speechless, your brain already turned to mush and he’s not even really started yet. The realization of how much he affects you serves as fuel to the fire. Your body and soul have fallen into the depths of submission.

A wide smirk spreads on his face, hands gripping your wrists to pin them above your head. His voice practically drips with honey, “You’re gonna be such a delightful plaything. Aren’t you, sweetheart? C’mon, need to hear you say it.”

You whimper pathetically, nodding your head frantically and pleading, “I wanna be your plaything, Cooper. I… I wanna be yours— I am yours. P-Please, give me more.”

His lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, tongue darting out to slide along yours and you writhe beneath him. You’re desperate for him at this point, feeding off of how he dominates you. He moves to the skin of your neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks to stake his claim.

Cooper chuckles at your reaction, “Mmm, such a responsive thing and I’ve barely begun. Need it bad, huh?,” he teasingly mocks. Your cheeks burn and all you can do is moan again, reveling in the sensation of his mouth on your neck.

He lets go of your wrists and removes himself, his hands wandering down to the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips for him, allowing him to take them off with your panties. His eyes immediately fall on your exposed wetness, taking in the sight with a sharp breath.

In this moment he swears it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He licks his lips, “Naughty girl, look at how wet that pussy is for me… I promise I’ll make it feel so good.” With that, he descends between your thighs, grabbing them to spread them wide and throw them over his shoulders.

Cooper presses his tongue flat against your wetness, your body jolting and legs tightening around his head. Your back arches, the muscle flicking and swirling over your clit, driving you wild. It has you gasping for air, tingles of pleasure bursting through your insides.

You crave more and he knows it, but he needs to hear you. Needs to hear your begging. You give it to him in a whine, “Please, sir, I need more. I want it all please please—“ He cuts you off, granting your wish with a finger teasing your entrance.

He suckles your clit with his lips, gathering slick on the tip of his digit, probing your tight hole. You let him in, your hips bucking into his touch and attempting to get impossibly closer. More.

Cooper is lost in the task of pleasing you, worshiping you in ways he imagined. Never did he expect you to be so easy, but he’s getting off on all of this almost as much as killing. This is a close second.

That’ll probably change once he feels you around him. His cock throbs for it but he’s determined to make you cum on his tongue and fingers first. He’s watching you intently, fucking you with one finger before adding another.

The sound of your moans grow with volume and your walls clench around them, one of your hands darting to his hair. Your legs shake and you try to tell him you’re close but it just comes out as gibberish.

“I know, baby, c’mon. You already taste so good, come for me ‘n let me taste every bit of you.”, he mumbles against your flesh. That’s all it takes for you to shatter, convulsing and crying out at the euphoria that washes over you.

His movements never falter, sucking and draining every ounce of pleasure from you. As soon as he senses you coming down, he can’t wait anymore. Cooper gets off the bed long enough to rid himself of his clothes, back on top of you in no time.

He takes a moment to remove your shirt, finally revealing the other objects of his desires. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him against you and he takes the chance to knead one breast with a hand, his mouth attaching to the other.

You gasp at the delicious sensation, arching towards him. Cooper doesn’t waste anymore time, gripping his cock and rubbing the head against your slick folds. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard and deep you’ll feel me for days.”, he promises in a sultry murmur. You shiver.

Without further warning, he sinks inside your pussy in one smooth motion that makes you squeal. The stretch is overwhelming and it’s knocked the breath out of you. You’re so tight, he almost fucking whimpers at the way you choke his cock.

Both of his hands move to grip your hips, giving you a chance to adjust to his size before he eases out and slams back in full force. The motion has you clawing at the sheets, pleasure and pain a heady cocktail as your moans and cries echo through the room like music to his ears.

“Tell me who you belong to, baby. Tell me who owns this pretty body.”, he pants with eagerness. He really is fucking you so deep, pounding you with a relentless rhythm. The friction between your slick bodies create an erotic sound, spurring both of you on.

You struggle to gather the energy for a response but he quickly fixes that by wrapping one of his hands around your throat, applying pressure.

“You, Cooper, I… belong to you. You own me, Cooper, y–you feel so good inside me. I love your cock.”, you blubbered. Your rational mind can’t believe what’s coming out of your mouth but you don’t care anymore.

The words ring in his ears and they make him crack— he’s whimpering, his hips pumping away and your body shaking beneath him. Cooper feels like he’s tasted a glimpse of heaven and he never wants it to go away.

Fuck no, you’re never going anywhere. You said it yourself and Cooper Adams doesn’t take lightly to broken promises. He highly doubts that you’ll ever let yourself find out now with the way you’re clinging to him.

Before you know it he’s flipping you over, positioning you on all fours and entering from behind with a harsh thrust. A yelp flies past your lips as his hands grip your ass cheeks firmly, finding yourself meeting his movements with your hips.

Cooper’s grunts mix with your screams and you’re both teetering on the edge, he’s so close to claiming you in the way he yearns for most. He leans over to wrap his hand around your throat again, using the grip to raise you up so that your back is almost touching his chest.

“I’m gonna stuff this tight pussy full of my cum and you’re gonna take every drop, do you understand?” His cock slides impossibly deeper and you shake violently, tears of overstimulating pleasure and pain streaming down your cheeks.

You stammer a ‘Yes’, then he’s letting his other hand slither down your front to toy with your clit, edging you on closer. Cooper’s grip on your throat tighten and his pace remains unforgiving, chasing the peak dangling just out of reach.

“Oh yes please, Cooper, gonna come so hard. Want you to fill me up, I wanna feel it.”, you beg in a plea. He feels the spasming of your walls around his cock, your release crashing through you while simultaneously rattling through him.

He coos in your ear, “There we go, you feel so good cumming on my cock, baby. You scream so pretty for me… fuck, gonna give it to you now.”, he croaks before he pulses inside of you, his cum spurting out of his tip and filling your pussy. The warmth spreading makes you hum, thoroughly enjoying it.

You completely zone out for a beat there, not realizing he’s still gently moving in and out. Your lungs gasp for air, body quivering from the aftershocks. You don’t even try to speak right now. Only the sounds of his breathing paired with yours and the soft squelch of his cock in your pussy.

Cooper wishes he could just live right here, buried in your depths, taking and taking and taking from you over and over. Pumping load after load into you.

You are different from the others. All of this feels different with you, he’s never had a woman bend to his will so easily. You might just be his one true savior.

That’s until after you’ve cleaned up together and you suddenly question out of nowhere…

“Are you The Butcher?”

tagging: @amethystblackkchaos @rottenangel @hereforthehitsbaby @dirtylittlefairytales @gissellec1 @rplver @ratcatcher2world @one-of-thewalkingdead @habitabel @rosaleelovesdilfs @hibiskooks

[hero-next-door]

Defending Nathan Prescott

(From Every Accusation)

All fact proven & common sense theory

No bullshit.

I suck at grammar. Deal with it.

I've replayed the game far too many times to gather this. I read into everything and even read into and WATCHED people who have suffered the same mental illness and situations Nathan has been in.

What I'll be covering:

Illness, rib breaking, dead animals, bdsm, Chloes pic, Rachel, gun on campus, Kate, Pompidou, Jefferson, wealth and his father.

And dont even THINK about skipping ahead!

Everything here is tied into one another. Read from start to finish. You're on this post to understand, right? Or to argue? Im not here to argue so, bye.

Lets start from the top...

Nathans downfall was caused by society and all who failed him. He's driven by hatred of others who don't understand him, and the game purposly wrote him off that way. They want players to hate him from what sides of the stories we've experienced. They gave this character controversial hobbies and a cynical bully attitude to really keep you suspecting him and not guessing Jefferson. The game isn't about Nathan. It's about Max. We learn so much about Max and everyone close to her. The tears they shed, the pains they've endorsed. Same with Chloe and Rachel's story. My heart goes out to all of them. We don't get to see that with other characters. Therefore, we don't care for them...or that's the games' intentions. We don't know the ins and outs of Nathan. Only what the game shows us, which are all negative. So, of course, disliking Nathan is only reasonable.

Mental Illness

We start with mental illness. He has Psychosis. Lots of proof, but i'm assuming you've seen it all already. Like, do people know what Psychosis is? Do they REALLY know what it is? Because this ALONE changes everything. And not Psychopathy ..Psychosis. Two different things, pookie. Psychopathy is the one where part of the brain is missing or disturbed. THEY'RE the ones that don't have empathy. Psychosis is different. Anybody can get it. This illness can take your empathy and awareness away, then bring it all back after the harm is done, leaving you to process that. Schizo and Bipolar are also all quite a handful to deal with too. Loud Noises/downgrading voices in your head SO LOUD that people will do anything to calm them. (Dont be shy, youtube: "28- Psychotic Episode" by Collège d'Alma) The feeling of loosing your mind is something I notice a lot of haters dont empathize on especially if they killed or hurt sombody. The brain slips into a state so disconnected that interviews with recovering patients I've seen describe it as confusing and scary and dont recall saying the stories they told and actions they did others. Imagine not being able to remember the hurtful things you've said and done. Imagine being told you killed somebody... with your own hands? And you can hardly remember what happened. Like... how would you react? Think about it. Anybody can get psychosis with enough trauma or a kick in the noggin. Some people who were interviewed that had psychosis said that they found relief when getting high or drunk. Little did they know the symptoms could bounce back up to 5x during withdrawal. But they were so desperate to get rid of the voices that they abused the drugs. Like....wow the game really did their research to create such a complicated character. Anyway, moving on.

Edit: After further research, he certainly had bipolar disorder first. Then it went left untreated, therefore sunk him to worse mental state of many other illnesses. Drugs only made things much, much worse. Bipolar disorder can cause schizo and schizo to lead to psychosis. 🙄Jesus Nathan quit hogging all the illnesses.

Now, let's break down everything else...

Shooting Chloe

Just rewatch it. Aims gun, Chloe pushes him, it tightens grip, ACCIDENTLY shoots her, immediately drops gun and gets really scared of he's done, checking to see if she's alive! If you specifically rewatch the ending of Lis1 when Chloe gets shot, they extend his reaction. He goes back and forth, checking her body. If he wanted to kill her, you check pulse and then run. Not sticking around crying about it. There's your empathy you're all saying he doesn't have. Other times where he could have shown more empathy ties with his Psychosis. Some people with the illness said that the voices loudly in their head will convince them that everyone around you is your enemy. Everyone is after you. It can twist your brain to feel anger and fear towards others. Nathan is always hung up on how everyone is using him and trying to control him. Which people ..DO use him. So now he's convinced that everyone is. He's not choosing to feel this way. He just needs psychiatric help.

Breaking Ribs

In Before The Storm, his entire demeanor is completely different than the Lis 1. He's more cowardly and not loud and aggressive. We'll be mentioning his creepy "pervy" binder later. Nathan isn't violent until the end IF you let Nathan get bullied and push his life in a negative direction. Sure, it's not Chloe's responsibility, but this is the game's way of showing you his downfall. We need to remember the game hides scenes and expect you to make up what happened behind the scenes. He broke Samantha's ribs over ..what? She's always so desperate to defend Nathan and even gets upset with Chloe when she doesn't help. So, if you tell her the wrong option to pressure kindness into Nathan, it results in him breaking ribs. How, though? Haters immediately hop online to say cause he's a mean and abusive non-empathic nut head. Are you sure he didn't just push her away, and her clumsiness just fell over? This took place after the play...so he possibly...pushed her off... 😰 She did say she was clumsy. You don't think she would have tried to hug or touch him in any way. Ok ok...calm down... Let's take a step back.. You get this "breaking ribs," ending from letting Nathan get bullied and embarrass himself during the play that his father pressured him about! Adding a little "..fuck you.." to the audience. Showing his start to his villain career and the start of him hating everyone, and you tell Samantha to go hug him!? This is the start of his mental spiral if you let things play out this way. But hurting her with intention? No. Lets tie this in with the other endings to their relationship. You get the clumsy ending. She hurts herself differently, and Nathan is with her in the hospital. Saying how he feels bad that she got hurt. (empathy bell) And they continue yo talk about her photo or whatever. Tie this with the rib one, tie this with the Chloe getting shot incident, and tie this with his mental illness. Come on, do i gotta spell it out for you.. Hurting someone is not what he attends to do. Like he quotes in his voice mail. (Speaking of that voice mail, empathy bell.) He does get angry at Samantha and hurts her, and we as players dont know the full story. But what was playing in his head seconds before and the entirety of the game that led up to this IS the reason why he accidentally hurts her. His anger from the entire game was built up and, unfortunately, released on her. Whatever happened, breaking her ribs was not on his to-do list! And then we have.. The good ending. He sits beside her, smiling.

Oh, wait! He's a little psycho with no human emotion? Psychosis has all parts of the brain attached, pookie. For most cases, It can be cured and helped. I can get it. YOU can get it. He has human emotions when he is at his very rare peaceful moments like with this good ending, when with Victoria ig and other scenes we tend to forget. Because painting him as the villain was the games goal. Jefferson was the plot twist.

Daddy Issues, Smug Talk, and a Gun on campus

Simple guys. Simple. You represent this school. You represent our name. This is a legacy. You will not embarrass me. This isn't about you or your problems!

Sure, YOU wouldn't crumble under that pressure, but Nathan sure did. Sure, child abuse isn't an excuse to "kill" people. But is it the child's fault? Sean-beanbag prescott should be arrested for not taking his boy to the asylum. Instead, he argues with a doctor!? Goofy, bro. But so many people are fueled with anger towards Nathan instead. It's whatever. Prescott, literally being his name, was already a red flag to other characters and chose to hate and bully him over it. Drew hated for what his FATHER did. Nathan did ..what again? Notice how that "rich Malfoy talk" wasn't really present in Before The Storm. Sure he tried to burn Drew with a family financial situation insult but the "Im rich, my father owns everything, I got a lawyer, money this and that" wasn't in his character in the Before the Storm. I believe being a prescott wasn't really in his future goals, and he wasn't ever really passionate about it. It's all in the annoyance in his tone with his father before the play. Lis1 he uses it so often to show that he's the boss and in control. He is influenced by representation for his family/school, wealth, intimidation, and of course hatred and believing everyone hates him. In his mind, everyone is against him, after him, and wants to use him. Again, he doesn't choose to think this way. Let me explain my last sentence clearly, though. Imagine being surrounded by a ton of people. All their attention is on you. They hate who you are. They talk about you. You have a defensless stomach sinking feeling and scared because all these people surrounding you are looking at you and all your insecurities and laughing at you. Well, obviouslysome of that is not going on in reality. But to Nathan, that IS his reality, and he has no control over it. Anyways I shouldn't have to keep explaining mental illness and how it stresses the brain. The bottom line is that his status and waving a gun around is what he thinks keep others out of his head. He can barely throw a punch. He had to use his head on warren, and did you catch when Max hit him in that scene? The dude was literally holding onto his face like he'd been battered. Like she did NOT hit that hard lmao. He's weak. He's always been the same tiny Nathan from before the storm. Just now, he uses masks for intimidation to stop his bullies, and anyone he thinks is "after him." He never meant to use a gun on anybody, just a threat. During the second scene where warren reunited a head butt with Nathan.. If you pull off warren, he barely even aims the gun when he runs away towards his room. Cowardly. He feels that he has to, to protect himself. He also uses his father as a threat, but clearly, that never worked. Also, I noticed him crying when you let Warren get crazy on him? Dudes apologizing and sobing? Guess that's not his first rodeo, rip.

Dead Animals

There is no proof he hurt animals. That's not really like him. He does have a list of illnesses, but Psychopathy isn't one of them. Y'all can keep yappin, but it's not. Clearly NOT one of them. He could have hurt an animal during an unaware episode, but there will not be any awareness behind it. Anyways, there are plenty of artists that do the same thing. Nathan is very passionate about photography and protraying solitary but not in the same way Jefferson does. Jefferson certainly uses that manipulation, but we'll get to that later. There are artists that like to shine on death in a positive light and in sorrow. There's also beauty in anatomy. It's not my cup of tea, but someone close to me can name me all kinds of gross organs and would be down to disect any animal. Yuck. But to them.. its fascinating, and they are the greatest people in my life. In love and in empathy. (NOT comparing my pookie to Nathan, PAUSE.) In anatomy theres Education and surprise. Death is also a theme and style too. Skulls and gore, super "rad" fukin "knarly."

BDSM Skip to (●) next part if needed

Ok.. so he's a little frisky. Y'all need to remember this is a fictional game first, okay? Lol Anyway, I can't defend him much here, but I got something. Firstly, the game WANTS you to suspect Nathan. Can't keep his room pretty and pink. They have to make it freaky and spooky. They paint Nathan as the villian for you to only focus on him as a suspect. So that everyones jaws are dropped with Jefferson twirls in.

Anyway...defending BDSM? This can bring trauma to those who have experienced it negatively or view it negatively. So skip to the Frank defense or read more if you want.

Bdsm relationships are very controversial. Some people see it as unhealthy, abusive, and sick. But if you have talked to or listened to other people within these relationships, they state that its completely consensual, safe, harmless, a breach of deep trust with their partners, and simply a fetish or kink The goal is to have fun at your limit..not pass the limit. There are twisted people who have broken that barrier and made it not fun and abusive. That's where I can't argue. If you feel that way towards the topic, I completely empathize with you.

Nathan has shown in his other photos a black and white theme of solitary. And you can tell that he might have taken those bdsm photos himself. As the quality is almost like the Pompidou photo. Everyone blends him taking bdsm photos with his angry behavior and "non empathic" demeanor. But this is where I loop back to Before The Storm hugging-my-binder Nathan. It's shown that in one of his endings, he took photos of Samantha. Obviously, NOT bdsm photos. His binder was a school project. But Samantha obviously consented, and Nathan was passionate enough to show her. He sees them as art. Naked girls have been models for sculptures and paintings. Its beauty. That's IF she was naked in some way in those photos. Which I still doubt. School project. Im sure the photos were gentle and strange and misunderstood, and Drew was just in his bully era. His reaction would have been a lot more eye-opening if he had a face full of tits or straps. Nathan begged for his binder back and even nervously reacted, showing he had love for his work and 'took time with it' (as he quotes when Drew throws it). I bring this up here to show that the women in his photos were indeed given consent, and if hes passionate about depicting his art, hurting them wouldn't be on his agenda. As we all learned today that hurting people was never his intentions until drugs and illness met with pressure and intimidation clouds his brain.

I read up on other artists that painted things similar. In their paintings, they expressed dread, vulnerability, feeling traped, and ..feeling used. If Nathan did find the images he took arousing, then why would he hang them up like everything else in his room like art? I believe that they're depicted in an artful way and in its black and white shading brings a sad darkness. If it's anything like the painters I mentioned, maybe Nathan has a deep level of empathy we don't understand.

●Frank and Pompidou

I didn't even know he took a picture of Franks hurt dog in the road because you little freaks threw his treat in the street!? This will also tie in to chloes pic, but we'll get to that. Frank first, as it's pretty simple. Nathan runs some system with Frank. And it's pretty obvious it's the same thing Drew was doing in Before the Storm. Nathan clearly doesn't like it as he finds it controlling, but getting his hands on drugs is a great way to forget his flaws and calm his illness symptoms. Which only created a loop of his symptoms worsening, as talked about before. His illness is very active towards the end of Before the Storm. You can tell by his huge character difference that drugs only made it worse.

Pompidou is a good dog, but just remember he's not the one who hurt him. This ties in with what we explained in the dead animal phase. The Imagine is black and white. It's a strange art most people don't understand. Man, I don't even understand it. But these people aren't heartless, and they're simply expressing pain. Or.. he took it for the same reason he took Chloes pic. To feel that he's in control, thinking this will help his mental reality of thinking everyone can use him, as explained earlier. But i doubt it. One is in color, and Pompidou is not. One is misguided, and one is "art."

Jefferson, Rachel, Kate, Chloes pic

If i see one more person throw him in the same trash bin as Jefferson, im going to puke. Anyway, I've twisted my head around this story so many times, begging to see the bigger picture. No pun attended. Jefferson was pulling the strings all along ..you know that, right? If Nathan was never there, Jefferson would have still done his disgusting projects. He certainly brought Victoria over without Nathan's usage. He didn't need Nathan, Nathan just made it easier cause he can easily be manipulated. Making Nathan do it all so the consequences will fall on him. Jefferson is smart and knows the right words to say. Nathan is missing the kindness of a father figure. All he has to do is play with his feelings. Nathan falls too easily to kindness. He felt the kindness of Samantha during the good ending, and He felt the kindness from Victoria.. but Victoria toxic bully nature wasn't helping. The bottom line is Jefferson easily manipulates him and understands his mental reality and uses that against him. Adding thoughts into Nathans head. Jefferson learned to use Nathan's illness to his advantage. Nathan trusted Jefferson as did everyone in that school. Why on earth would Jefferson wrong him? He looked up to him, so when Jefferson slowly brought him into his plans of drugging girls, Nathan thought that it was all ..moral. In reality, you and I know obviously that's not okay, but to Nathan (and his severe illness), he trusted Jefferson was doing no wrong. We don't understand the mental strain he was under. Manipulation goes a long way. Heres how he did it. He probably said things like 'We are the same Nathan, this is art just like yours.' It starts small, Nathan gets him the drugs. Then he pulls him in, and Nathan starts drugging the girls for me. Start driving them here. Start helping me inside the dark room. Start helping me inject my victims. Jefferson had so much power over him. He was connected with his father. He can threaten his grade, his representation, and his future in art. He knew all the right things to say and do. He knew how his head worked. Clog him up with drugs, and keep him quiet. Heal his missing father needs and demand him for your needs. Does this not make Nathan a victim, too?

Then ...the Rachel incident happened. Nathan was NOT mentally aware of what he's done. The excited "Rachel!" When he saw Max at the diner clearly shows that he truly expected her to pull up. This mixes with the symptoms we've discussed. He only remembers bits and pieces as obviously it was beyond traumatizing. Sending him in an insane spiral and the infamous psychosis drawing. (Don't be afraid, google psychosis drawings. Damn. Just imagine you recovered from psychosis and laying eyes on that and not remembering you drew that..ugh...I'd cry.) Someone with Psychopathy wouldnt feel traumatized from such events, debunking the fact everyone thinks Nathan has Psychopathy. He doesn't have Psychopathy, he has psychosis. Moving on. Jefferson was certainly angry with him and drugged Nathan himself after the incident, which really helped Nathan to forget what he's done. But Jefferson's anger and not talking to him tore him apart. His emotional attachment clearly wasn't having it. The note he wrote Jefferson in desperate attempt to bring him back after ruining Jefferson plans goes to show just how much he wants that sense of being cared for. If only it was someone else that wasnt Jefferson ..or his dad can do is fucking job too.

Alcohol was certainly a great method of forgetting what he did. So then comes Chloes' interaction with him. We know the story. He did not SA her, I can say that right here and now. Nothing like that was behind this. You can tell by the way Chloe presented the story to Max. There wasn't an uncomfortable tone to her story. She didn't seem traumatized but more shocked, and "it was pretty crazy." She also wasn't drugged for that long. She woke up very soon, fully clothed. What obviously happened is that Nathan used this to feel in control like the mentioned way above. Drugs and Psychosis is no jokes. Who knows what hell is playing in his mind, but I unfortunately believe that this was to try to win back Jefferson. He had been angry at him and ignoring him, and even tho he hates drugging, his confusion and drunk state led him to this. He's cowardly, and his mind is slipping and tries to do what he thinks is right for him. He's misguided and leads down the wrong path.

Nathan did not SA Kate! Kate story breaks my heart into a million pieces, but if she was SA-ed, it wasn't Nathan. After everything I said above, you can tell that that isn't in his character. But here I want to bring up the voicemail. Nathan claims multiple times that he never wanted to hurt anybody, implying that he felt forced to do harm. Something he DID NOT want to do. Why on earth would anybody have felt forced to SA somebody!? I'm not saying Kate WASN'T SA-ed as I can only assume maybe the boys she was shown with in the video did something or Jefferson. Victoria was Kates bully!!! Nathan wanted to be liked by Victoria and was influenced by her nature. He's desperate for attention and kindness. Victoria did far more to hurt Kate and her reason as to why was shit. You go THAT FAR to one up your photography game. Girl, bye. She spread that video, and she still has empathy, too? Her regretting everything? Did she reallyy regret it? Or did she want to make herself look good for her representation? She showed regret via text message in Before The Storm, too? She doesn't have a mental illness, but the game gave her an act of forgiveness and used her as a victim so the audience would sympathize with her. Goes to show you the game controls what they want you to feel. If they were to do that with Nathan..would opinons be different? Taking us into his mind and how he sees the world around him. They could have..but didnt. Well.. We have the voicemail, but obviously, that didn't stop the haters. It's unfortunate. But the game gave me just enough little clues for me to shine light on in this post. They put so much into his character but never showed the audience the truth.

Conclusion

What we've learned today is that Nathan isn't the villain you think. He's been manipulated, used, and needs mental help, but im sure my old Nathan-defending friends have said this time and time again. Im here to add something....

It's been PROVEN that he's capable of all human emotions. You just refuse to believe it because you're mistaking his illness and claiming all of this was intentional. Psychosis can be temporary. It's like a hand that steals your common sense, feelings, empathy, and sympathy, and you're only left with acting on pure chaos and negative or fearful emotions. After long treatment, your sense of reality returns, your feelings, your empathy, your sympathy.. And all you have now is guilt and regret and self blame that you hurt somebody. If you let Nathan kill Chloe, he is arrested. He had doctors aware of his illness and would have been charged with illness in mind. Forcing the treatment he needed ages ago. By the time Lis 2 came out... I wonder how he's taking it all in? What he did to everyone, what he did to Rachel.

He was written off to die, be locked up, and blamed. Unfortunately, he was caught in the crossfires of the harm of our favorite characters. If he was born in a different family and away from Jeff, he would have never hurt anybody. Matter a fact, he would never have suffered with his listed mental illnesses.

This goes out to all real accidental murder cases. There will always be a great divide in opinions. I hate comparing fictional games with real life, but I find it crazy that we call others nonempathtic when they aren't empathic themselves. It's like the word "accidental" is worthless.

Its always a debate..

Do we feel bad for the lives lost and their families

or

Do we feel bad for the mental crumble of the one who never meant to kill and how their familes have to deal with that.

Are they worthy to walk this earth? Are they worthy to see the daylight again? Are they still human, too? Should they die, too? Is redemption possible?

Who knows. Peoples opinions won't change unless they themselves fall onto the opposing team. If they were to suffer the chaos of accidentally murdering someone or the grief of losing someone from an accidental murder.

Red Nathan, the first Nathan we all experienced from Lis1. Damaged and doomed. Used and mentally obstructed. It's unfortunate things ended this way.

Blue Nathan, Appears in Before the slStorm and Max's alternate timeline. He is clean and hasn't touched drugs. He had not been involved in crimes or violence yet. In this alternate timeline, he has been somehow saved and kept away from mental destruction and Jefferson. We will never really know what drove Nathan towards this peaceful path, but I assumed that it was the kindness of Max that led him in the right direction. (Max somehow changed Victoria, too. With her demeanor being so gentle. I really am curious about the whole back story of that timeline... I think about it alot)

[misseviehyde]

BITCHY BODYSWAP

The psychologist had warned them not to wear each others clothes after the swap. He had told them to avoid even looking at themselves in their new bodies till a way could be found for the swap to be reversed.

"The more you see and visualise yourself in your new body, the more your mind will change and adapt. You must wear your old clothes and at all costs avoid ANY sexual activity. If the mental patterns lock, we may never be able to reverse the swap."

It was easier said than done.

The swap had been unexpected... a military experiment gone wrong at the nearby airbase, causing popular and pretty Rachel Grey and dorky Daniel Harland to somehow swap bodies.

The military were supporting each family and the rules were clear - but Daniel couldn't resist trying on some of Rachel's clothes. She was the most popular girl at school and owned so many pretty things. It seemed a shame not to try them on and experience how they felt.

He might never get a chance to wear her makeup, do her hair, feel her lingerie again. He loved how soft her body felt. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he secretly spent hours staring into the mirror - gazing into those perfect brown eyes and touching himself.

Biting his plump pouty lips, he would stroke his pussy and fondle his breasts - crying out in Rachel's sexy voice as he orgasmed hard.

It felt so good to be rich, spoiled and popular. The attention was intoxicating. Everyone wanted to be his friend, everyone admired and desired him.

No one knew about the swap - the military wanted to keep it secret. It made it so easy to impersonate Rachel... to BE her in everyday life.

Meanwhile Rachel hated her new body - except for one thing. She couldn't stop masturbsting. It disgusted her to jerk off over girls, but her body seemed to only respond to female images and she needed the release so bad.

It was the only thing that could make her feel good now she was stuck as this loser. She knew she wasn't supposed to look - but she couldn't stop spending hours staring in the mirror and hating her new body.

Daniel's clothes felt more comfortable - she felt full of self loathing otherwise. The more she wore them, the more natural it seemed. She began to find other enjoyments... playing computer games, reading anime, going to the movies.

But still a swap back seemed possible. Then one day they bumped into each other...

They were both breaking the rules - they were both out in public pretending to be each other. Daniel was dressed in one of Rachel's most stunning blue dresses and heels.

Meanwhile Rachel was in a hoody and on her way to see a movie with one of Daniel's friends.

"What are you doing?" gasped Rachel in shock.

"Nevermind what I'M doing," laughed Daniel as he tossed back his perfect hair and walked intimidatingly close. "I can see you're adapting to being a nerd as much as I am loving becoming a bitch."

"What?" gasped Rachel.

"Haha - I gave up on that dumb pyschologist advice weeks ago. I've been trying to become more like you. I want this life and you're going to give it to me."

"N... no... that's my body," stammered Rachel.

"Not anymore," purred Daniel. "I'm Rachel now and you're Daniel."

Stepping close Rachel gasped as Daniel's manicured hands slid into his pants. "Noooo what are you doing?"

"Just giving you a helping hand. You know that when you cum, you'll forget all about the old you. Just let it happen... give up."

Rachel tried to hold on - she tried to remember who she really was - but it seemed crazy that she had ever really been this Goddess in a blue dress. As she cummed her pants she admitted to herself that she must be Daniel.

The new Rachel smiled as she saw the change in the dork before her. "Good boy. Now let's go tell the scientists that the swap seems to have naturally reversed and we are back to normal."

As they walked away together, both caught their reflections in a shop window. She was a Princess and he was a peasant.

Rachel giggled. "You must be crazy to think you were ever me..."

[cammie-morgan-goode]

Usually when a teenager thinks of summer vacation, they think of hanging out at the beach or going to the mall or hanging with their friends more than their families. They associate summer with freedom.

I never had that. I never had to worry about running off to the beach or going to see my grandparents or anything. Not that I still have any but that’s beside the point.

I don’t need to look up from the book I’m reading to know that Cam is basking in the sun, her face towards the sky. She’s listening to Bex prattle on about the next James Bond movie when a group of boys pass by, ultimately ending the conversation. Bex isn’t boy crazy just… boy distracted. And it always makes me laugh.

Cam doesn’t know I’m here and that’s just the way I prefer it. She doesn’t need to know that I check up on her. She doesn’t need to know that I feel she’s safer with me just out of reach. She doesn’t need to know that I worry.

Bex throws her arms out wide and I can practically hear her accent. I watch as the group of boys pivots, turning around. A boy with tanned skin and dark hair, saunters up to Bex, eyeing her up and down. Bex could definitely take him down with one punch but I know that would cause a scene.

“What’s a girl like you doing here?” The boy asks, and I have to fight to roll my eyes.

Bex tosses her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyes. Cammie’s never done that. She’s never flirted with me before. Not that she’s needed to. I was hooked the minute we were partnered up in Solomon’s class.

“Just visiting,” Bex answers. I can see the boy practically melt from her accent. I can’t help but chuckle.

I drop my book into the open black bag at my feet and pull my shirt over my head. I shake out my hair a little bit, giving it a wind blown look. Taking off my shoes, I drop my shirt on top of them. And then I jog over to where the girls are.

“They didn’t have that smoothie you wanted babe, so I wasn’t sure which kind you would like instead,” I say a few steps in front of them.

Cammie’s mouth drops open for five seconds before she clears her throat with a cough. Bex nudges her with her elbow, as if to say real smooth.

I come to a stop next to Cam, lean down and kiss her cheek, before I straighten and offer a hand to Beach Boy. “I’m Zach. And you are?”

Beach Boy laughs like he’s uncomfortable and tells Bex that she can join his game anytime she’d like before he disappears in the sea of people. I roll my shoulders and drop onto the towel beside Cammie. She turns to look at me.

“What are you doing here, Zach?” She asks, confused.

“Thought I’d pop in, say hi,” I shrug, stealing a grape from the food on her plate, resting on her lap.

“Well while you two have some catching up to do, I’m going to find a distraction,” Bex says, getting up and sauntering back over to the group of boys. I shake my head.

Cammie doesn’t even watch her go, her attention fixed on me. I can practically see the questions turning in her head. But she only stares at me. Waiting. Always waiting.

“I can’t drop in and see my girlfriend?” I ask.

But Cammie gives me the look. The look that says stop trying to avoid the question. The look that says I’m over your games Zachary.

I sigh and look out towards the water. “Townsend missed a call-in.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “And so did Rachel.”

Cammie stills. She stares at me. It seems like she can’t say anything. “Does Joe know?” She asks, her voice cracking.

“Yes. He’s with the Baxters at the safe house right now. I’m sure it’s okay, Gallagher Girl. I just didn’t want to ruin your summer,” I say quietly.

Cammie shakes her head. “No. No. I needed to know. I’m glad you told me. How many?” She asks.

I pause and chew on my bottom lip. “Four.”

Cammie sucks in a break and take her hands. “It’s going to be okay, Cam. I promise. It’s going to be okay.”

And I don’t quite know if I’m saying that for her benefit or mine.

(Written by: @cammie-morgan-goode)

[mrsbsmooth]

Does anyone know if Theo is an actual LI or if he's a LI that you just have to work hard for? I need to know if Theo is a LI or not cause I don't wanna be wasting my time on him if he's not a LI like it hurtsss 😭💔 I'm just hoping we have to work a lil bit more for him cause I don't want him to be locked or worse another Noah situation like absolutely not 😔

I’m almost certain he’ll end up being a LI.

I have no evidence of that whatsoever, but I did see someone on one of the discords make the very good point that he’s probably locked with Claudia because he’ll only become available once she does. Something will happen between them, they’ll break up and immediately start vying for MC’s attention.

I got anonymous ask this morning, saying that it’s likely Theo who kissed Rachel— I feel like this would make so much sense because it’s a really good reason for them to break up. Claudia was also the one who told us that Rachel confessed to her that she had kissed someone. It would make sense for Rachel to not tell Claudia who she had kissed if that man had been Theo.

I will have something similar to CherryGate, but it won’t be around us. It will be Claudia.

[atimeofyourlife]

@steddie-week Day 3 first kiss

Steve knew first kisses. He'd had so many of them in his life, didn't always get a second kiss or anything further, but first kisses were a speciality of his.

His first kiss had been with Tommy H when they were nine. It had been awkward, as neither of them knew what they were doing. But over time, they had perfected their technique together. Innocent kisses while they were still in elementary school turning into hours-long make-out sessions whenever they were both single as teenagers.

His first kiss with a girl had been with Nicole at the Snow Ball in sixth grade, when he was eleven. Tommy was taking Carol, so it only made sense that he asked Nicole, the only other girl they hung out with. It was much less uncomfortable than his first kiss with Tommy, as he actually knew what he was doing. It was still weird, because neither of them were that into it. They decided the next day that they were better off as friends.

He had so many other first kisses, some more memorable than others. Becky, Laurie, Anna, Tommy S (who was nowhere near as good as Tommy H), Gemma, Jodie, Carol (to make Tommy H jealous), Rob, Amy, Tina, Heather, Dean. In middle school, girls almost treated it like a game to get him as their first kiss. In high school, it was an open secret in the locker room that Steve would be happy to kiss any guys that were trying to figure out how straight they were, and would never name names. And that he was damn good at it, too.

The next first kiss to actually mean anything was Nancy. Right from the first one, he was devoted to her. He could feel himself falling deeper and deeper in love with every kiss. He thought that it could be forever, but drunken words leaving his heart shattered on the bathroom floor at a Halloween party destroyed that illusion.

After Nancy, there were more first kisses. He took some time without seeing anyone, trying to get over the heartbreak, then he hit his dry spell while working at Scoops. But he got back out there. Emily, Brandon, Alexander, Louise, George, Joseph, Rachel, Ian, Brittany, Linda, Ross, Stan, Heidi, Josh, Brenda. More first kisses with guys than before, as his confidence grew and he started spending every other weekend frequenting the gay bars of Indianapolis. Nothing serious ever came of it, a few dates with the women, and maybe a string of hookups if any of the men were interested enough to see him more than once.

He completely stopped after the Upside Down raised its head again, feeling on edge about what could happen next, but also realizing his feelings for Eddie. He'd known for a while what he was looking for. Something serious, in it for the long term, someone to plan a future with, where the relationship wasn't just about the sex. But he'd struggled with figuring out who he was looking for. Eddie was that someone he was looking for. But he was scared to admit it. He didn't want to fuck up their friendship, or to make it awkward for everyone if they couldn't last. He couldn't find the confidence to make a move, even after Eddie told everyone he was bi. That had caused a chain reaction of coming out in the party. Steve had quickly followed up by admitting his own bisexuality. Robin gained the confidence to be open about being a lesbian and introduce Vickie as her girlfriend. Argyle explained that he didn't like to label himself, but he was open to anyone. Will came out as gay, his voice shook as he said it, but the relief was clear in his eyes when everyone responded with love. Max came out as bi, saying she'd known since before she left California. Lucas admitted he liked both, but had felt so alone because he never knew there was a word for it or other people like him.

Steve hadn't accounted for how Dustin would react to him coming out. It wasn't a bad reaction, he accepted that there had been a reason why Robin and Steve wouldn't date and it wasn't something that was Steve's fault. But Steve choked on air and had to slam on the breaks when Dustin finally got to his point. "So why don't you date Eddie? I mean, you both like guys and you spend almost all your time together anyway."

Eddie beat him to it when bringing it up. "Henderson keeps insisting that we should date."

"Yeah, he keeps bugging me about it, he's just using your name where he used to put Robin's. All the points are basically the same." Steve leaned back on the couch, watching Eddie carefully.

"And it doesn't bother you?" Eddie looked nervous in a way that Steve hadn't seen before.

"Ed's why would it bother me?" Steve asked softly, taking Eddie's hand in his.

"Because I like you, man."

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

Eddie dove across the couch to Steve, tangling his fingers into the hair at the back of Steve's neck as he kissed him intensely.

Steve kissed back enthusiastically, pulling Eddie closer to deepen the kiss.

Yeah, he could live with this being his last first kiss.

I had to delete and repost this because it didn't post properly. if you saw it first time, no you didn't. also on AO3

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

I just want to see Aphrodite and Hephaestus please. Listen, I already read this chapter so I already knew how it was going to go down, me personally it made me uncomfortable but that’s only because of me. I don’t exactly like sexual things they just make me very.. I don’t know how to say this without sounding edgy but I feel numb to it. But many people said that it was pretty nice for them so I’m actually really glad about that cause that’s always good. I just hate that the whole conversation was only brought up because of Daphne and Eros.

Like the way that Persephone confronted Hades about it was kinda pressuring honestly. That’s also one reason why I didn’t like it, instead of saying something like “oh yeah I was just wondering if we could go further in our relationship” or something along those lines she said “shouldn’t we have done it by now?” like girl.. you yourself have already told Hades multiple times that you want to take your relationship slower, I feel like that’s probably what annoyed me about this whole topic because it genuinely didn’t feel like this was on Persephone’s accord. I just feel like this whole arc was rushed for fan service mostly, everyone and their mom wondered when they would do it and I’m sure Rachel was reading all of those comments about it too, so it feels like less of Persephone actually wanting it and more of Rachel giving people what they want.

Besides, in a relationship it doesn’t always have to be sexual. There’s nothing saying that you need to have sex with your partner immediately after forming that relationship with him so the whole “shouldn’t we have sex now?” thing was kinda off for me. It’s not a requirement to do it with your partner, if you want to do it then that’s a completely different thing and I’m not shaming you for doing that but this just felt more like obligation, something that needed to be done between them rather than a genuine want. That’s what annoyed me most.

Me personally I wish Persephone and Hades would actually take it slow like they’ve been saying. I’m getting tired of seeing them tell each other that they’ll take it slow and set up boundaries just for the both of them to completely break them and speed into things. There’s no genuine want or desire between them, it’s just lust. Listen, I would be fine with them lusting after each other if the story didn’t make it seem like it was love. Love and Lust are completely different things and I hate that it’s blending into each other with this whole comic. Love doesn’t always have to be intense, it could be the small things that your lover does that makes you fall deeper in love with them. I just feel like it’s off that they market HxP as lovers in this, especially since they don’t know each other very well.

Like I wish they got more time to spend instead of a few weeks and then a whole 10 years apart. Like yeah, you can’t just reconnect with someone you know so little about just like that and call it love when the obvious goal for the both of them is getting into each other’s pants. It doesn’t scream love for me.

But yeah, I wish Persephone got more internal and intimate dialogue within herself and her want for sexual stuff not to be used as a joke. Cause let’s be real, that whole “omgomg Persephone wants to get laid!!!” thing was a joke and no one took it seriously at all. I hate that, like it should’ve been more personal and more serious especially with Persephone’s history, it shouldn’t have been used as a joke. And Daphne and Eros shouldn’t have just asked her that question randomly, that was annoying as hell. It sucks that Persephone’s friends worry more about Persephone pleasing Hades and Hades’ needs more than Persephone and how she feels. Seems like everyone in this story does actually.

But with all that being said I’m very happy that Aphrodite and Hephaestus are going to be the main characters (hopefully) for the next chapter because GOD am I tired of all of this Persephone and Hades content. I know what some people are about to say “but Lore Olympus is about the myth of Hades and Persephone!!” yes, but it also advertises that its about the other gods as well. Literally read LO’s description and not only that but it includes other myths as well starring other gods who are also featured in the chapters and even centered in them. Not only that but… Lore Olympus. Think about it.

Anyways that’s the end of the rant hopefully I didn’t ramble too much, I just wanted to get my point across and speak about my thoughts cause it’s been irking me slightly. By the way, I mean no disrespect to anyone who genuinely found comfort in the conversation between Hades and Persephone, it was a good conversation don’t get me wrong it was just me personally who got mildly uncomfortable and it’s only because of how I react to things such as that. I didn’t mean it if I did offend anyone and I’m genuinely sorry, I wasn’t sure how else to write how I felt but if enough people tell me I was out of pocket for it I’ll either leave that part out or I’ll find better wording for it. But with that being said these rants are meaningless and mostly pulled from my brain at unreasonable times of the day and night, I don’t want anyone using this as fuel to drop the comic or harass or insult fans because that would be the opposite of my intention, I only come to speak my opinion on the comic not about the people who enjoy it.

[shouts-into-the-void]

Just finished These Fleeting Shadows by Kate Alice Marshall and I was pleasantly surprised. The ending left a bit to be desired and I found the main character a bit melodramatic at times, but Marshall really nailed the horror elements and the plot twist hit me like a truck. The main themes are eat the rich, fuck the patriarchy, and the all-consuming power of love, which it deals with pretty well even if it becomes a little heavy handed towards the latter half of the book. If you're not a fan of body horror, I might sit this one out though.

*Spoilers/Plot*

The story surrounds Helen Vaughn as she, her mother Rachel Vaughn, and her mother's boyfriend Simon reconnect with Rachel's estranged family for her father, Leopold's, funeral. We're told that he died of heart problems, which was unusual as "The Masters of Harrow" (the significance of which I will explain in a minute) tend to live a long time.

So they go through the funeral proceedings, the family is rich and snobby with the few exceptions of Helen's uncle Caleb and cousins Desmond and Celia, aaaaand then Helen sees some foxglove in Leopold's corpse's ribcage and hears him telling her to "Find the center of the spiral" because, oh yeah, the house is modeled after a labyrinth, and she understandably freaks out.

After the funeral, Caleb, Leopold's widow Iris, and his brother Eli, pull Rachel and Helen aside to inform them that Grandpa Mansplain Manipulate Manslaughter has left all of Harrowstone Hall and $40 million to Helen if she stays on the grounds for one year and if she says no then everyone else in the family except Iris also loses their inheritance. Apparently the will was mysteriously changed shortly before his death and everyone agrees this was to punish Rachel for abandoning the family, as she is pretty much terrified by Harrow for reasons she can't remember.

She initially refuses, but the car breaks down at the end of the driveway and while waiting for Rachel and Simon to go back and fetch help, Helen wanders into the woods in pursuit of a little girl with an obscured face who randomly appears asking her for help. The girl leads her to a cemetery, where Helen meets The Harrow Witch, who just so happens to be a really cute girl named Bryony who absolutely hates her and her family, but is the only person to tell her the truth about anything. Helen is obviously in love immediately, and goes back to the house. Far what are actually really unclear reasons, Helen decides to stay after all.

She begins to try and find answers as to what happened during Nicholas' experiments, who killed Leopold and Caleb's daughter Jessamine (both whom The Other takes the form of in order to speak, called Figments), why local girls with the family eyes are going missing, and how to survvie the year as Helen becomes increasingly more sick. While Helen and the Vaughns believe The Other is a monster that needs to be contained, Bryony believes it's simply misunderstood and wants to free it.

Helen slowly gleans that Harrow is actually a cage built for a creature called "The Other" that seems to be a god from another world that founder of Harrow Nicholas Vaughn, his wife Annelise, and friend Dr. Raymond accidentally set loose in our world after their experiments trying to make the human mind able to comprehend The Other (in which they lobotomize Dr. Raymond's ward Mary Beaumont and open her up to it, causing her to go insane) accidentally binds it to a child which Nicholas claims appeared when she saw The Other, but is suggested to actually be his due to some...interesting journal entries.

Throughout the book, Helen develops a romantic relationship with Bryony and becomes close with Desmond and Celia, the only Vaughns outside Rachel who don't suck, likely because they also have no idea what's going on.

Eventually, after months of sleepwalking, being attacked by The Other's monstrous creations, Celia's father dying, Helen slowly dying and nearly contorting into one of the monsters, and everyone being shady af; Helen, Bryony, Desmond, and Celia translate the last of Nicholas' diary and discover he killed the child bound to The Other and dismembered her in order to keep it confused/use its powers for himself, and the family is a pretty much a murderous cult that repeatedly binds The Other to an illegitimate Vaughn child and repeats the process every time it starts to heal. The four decide to dig up the girls' bones and put them back together so they can talk to The Other, but Desmond and Celia leave because Desmond knows information the reader doesn't.

So they go into the murder chamber and arrange the bones and ask it what's up.

Helen is The Other.

Um. What.

In a twist of events that hit me over the head with a hammer, it turns out that Helen is actually a piece of The Other that it split off itself so that at least some of it could be free, and then changed Rachel's memories so that she'd believe Helen was her daughter and escape with her. We did see throughout the story that a lot of Helen's personality was similar to The Other, in that she could see inside of people (ie. The foxglove in Leopold's chest because he was poisoned with Foxglove) and has an unavoidable need to create things (using animal bones). Also Simon is one of The Other's creations. Helen then erased her own memories so she could live a normal life, although people were afraid of her because they could tell she wasn't normal and was altering their minds.In another twist, Bryony knows this already because she can't be fooled by The Other and so does Desmond because Helen told him while she was sick and then forgot.

And so does Caleb! And everyone else...in the family...and Celia just told them that Helen remembers to try and help...

They kill Helen.

She doesn't stay dead, and they just keep killing her every time she tries to escape. Eventually they trap her in an endless loop in which she wanders the halls in a trance because it's "more humane" and the rest of the year passes as they prepare to sacrifice her and make Caleb Master of Harrow. Caleb has also told everyone that Helen killed Jessamine, even though it turns out to be him after they tried to kill Celia and it failed because Eli and Victoria whisked her off to London.

Desmond, Celia, and Bryony try to devise a way to break the loop, but Rachel ends up doing it by accident when she demands Helen to tell her why she made her think she loved her, slaps her in the face when she calls her mom, and then starts crying in the hallway. Helen runs away, pursued by Caleb, when Eli shoves her in the library and clears her way to the door. She sees Rachel again and stops, Caleb catches up and shoots her but Rachel jumps in the way and nearly dies, so Helen just reshapes reality so the bullet doesn't exist. They will still proceed to try and shoot her, btw.

Helen flees, finds Bryony, and hides in a derelict cabin. Eli finds them and reveals that the last child to be murdered was Leopold's, and Eli had formed a bond with her after seeing how his brother used and abandoned her mother. In revenge, Leopold had made him be the one to dismember her, but Eli had instead given her a proper burial which allowed The Other to heal enough to form Helen. Eli has been on Helen's side the entire time, because two years ago she got sick and remembered again, and the two made a plan that involved Eli poisoning his brother, changing the will, and also cutting off Helen's hand at one point.

To conclude the plan, Helen turns herself in and goes through with the ceremony, before refusing the poison Caleb gives her and proclaiming herself Mistress of Harrow with Caleb as her sacrifice, as she had previously carried out the necessary components for the ritual and Desmond, Celia, and Bryony all recognise her as the rightful heir. Caleb gets stabby, so Helen fully sheds her flesh-suit and kills him and Iris, sparing Victoria. Eli makes the decision to remain in the chamber while The Other demolishes Harrow and the others flee, and so she turns herself into his niece and alters his mind so he believes he's spending one last day at the park with her while he dies.

Fully The Other now, they remain at the ruins of Harrow and creates, up until Bryony returns (presumably a few years later as she mentions her father wouldn't let her live on the grounds) and refuses to leave until they decide who to be, promising to love them no matter what they decide and revealing the others haven't returned because they believe Helen is dead. The Other decides to be Helen again, and live together with Bryony in a cottage on the grounds, promising to one day leave and see the world.

...

So that was a very long synopsis, but I like explaining things so this is what you get. There were a lot of little details I left out, so definitely give it a read yourself.

[changethecircumstances]

Things my friend said during our House of Ashes playthrough part 2

Babe stop coughing we were about to kiss (about Clarice and Rachel)

Did I just abandon Clarice oh no I'm sorry I'm sorry oh no no no no! Go back go back can we please replay that?!?! I can't leave my vampire girlfriend! (We did replay the blood pit chapter lol)

What you doing offering him a bottle when his hands are tied what the fuck he gonna do?!? (Eric offering Salim a drink)

(I knew you were trouble softly playing in the next room as Nick follows Jason) ah shit they about to fuck right?

(Chooses the 'they attacked our country option by accident') wait no! No! I became racist!? Wait no! First I lost my girlfriend (Clarice) and then I lost my boyfriend (Joey) and now I'm racist? Please please can we replay this again (we replayed the Blood pit chapter 3 times lol)

(About Eric dissecting the vampire) ur a nuclear engineer what the fuck do u know about biology?

(Playing as Jason again) ok let's try to not be racist this time

(Nick says "this is the closest I've been to hell") That's OK baby I'll take you to heaven right here

I want Rachel to live so she can be with Clarice

(After being told Clarice dies no matter what but that they could both become vampires) oooo then that's the ending I'm going for

(When we finally get back to the blood pit) God I hate this part I just want to get back to my girlfriend. Also ma'am ur hoo-ha is gonna be infected after this

I don't care what u say those vampires are sneaking out of that fucking cave. They are coming out. It's pride month and the demons are coming out

(Proceeds to replace every unintelligible part for randolphs journal with the word masturbating and cries laughing)

(Having completely forgotten what the vampire looks like) Oh God it's like the xenomorph but uglier!

(Sees Joey as a vampire) Damn he kind of Sexier like this

(About to go over the chasm with Clarice) I swing that way do you swing that way?

(Manages to replay the Blood pit only to choose the options where Clarice ends up deciding to stay behind) I did all that and my girlfriend left me? Fuck it I'm not playing that again let's finally continue (we did finally continue lol)

Men be talking about fighting demons when really it's just bisexual thoughts

Are we ever gonna talk about Nick killing Merwin or are we gonna gloss over that like it was just a war thing?

I'm getting to Eric levels of hatred with Dar

Dar is a burden on humanity but Eric is a cum stain on life (what did Eric do to my friend lol she hated him so much hahaha)

(Jason says "this is our house our rules!") It really isn't though?

(Reading the relationship updates) what do u mean Rachel broke the news of her relationship with Nick harshly? How else do u break that to someone? Oh I'm sorry. I accidently penetrated another man?

I don't care about turning Rachel into a vampire anymore. My vampire girlfriend left me so I'm leaving her like I left my husband-wait is this karma?

(Me surviving as Eric even though my friend abandoned me as Rachel) I'm comin for ya treacherous wife

(Eric to Nick "you stay out of my way") ill just stay in your wife then

Jason just looking for excuses to touch Salim huh?

So this is hr Geiger's wet dream

Can we have a part 2 where the US government tries to use it as a weapon and fucks up?

Please blink (immediately screams when the fluid covered surviving prologue character blinks)

(When the crucifix didn't help as Nick) God said this was not one of mine abort

(When Salim crawled into the star chamber first) bye yall I got a son

Who am I talking to? Salim? (Tells her its Eric) God damn it

(When Rachel and Eric talk in the star chamber) I'm just gonna leave now cause we can't both be on our period

(When the cocoons is blowing up) its 5 o clock in the morning? I'd crawl into a cocoon and have a catnap

(About Jason and Salim) I want to see them on 90 day fiance

Maybe the solution to racism is aliens

(When vampire Clarice popped out in the waterfall) my girlfriend!

(When the eclipse happens) ah hell no

(When poppin flares) Marvel has 24hrs to respond avengers endgame who?

(When the Curator started talking at the end after we saved everyone) mother fucker just congratulate me

(During the interviews specifically with Rachel) can I take a shower? Please??? I was a blonde before this I am now a red head

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

hi>:) saw your requests were open and wanted to request something! could you write a dick grayson x m!reader sorta fluff? maybe smut if you feel like it goes with the plot? where reader and dick have been together but dick never thought abt asking reader when his bday was, and reader never bothered to mention. so when dick finds out readers bday is (today, tomorrow, soon) somehow, he tries to do smth special for reader.

im personally thinking abt dc titans dick but doesnt really matter!

Birthday surprise

Paring: dick grayson x M reader

Tags: established relationship,fluff,

Word count: 680

Dick was panicking. He couldn’t believe he didn’t know that his boyfriend's birthday was today. He only found out when Rachel asked him about it. 

“Hey Dick, what are you and Y/N doing today to celebrate?”  

After Rachel saw how confused he was she told him what today was, now he had 3 hours to figure something out before Y/N got home and he finds out he has a terrible boyfriend he has and dumps him. That’s why Dick spends the next 3 hours running around the titan's tower trying to get everything ready after he asked Corey for ideas. 

When Y/N finally comes through the door Dick greets him with a kiss and then taking his jacket 

“ Hey” 

“ What's this?” Y/N asks Rasing his eyebrows but accepting his boyfriend's affection 

“ nothing” Dick replies pressing another kiss to Y/N's lips, as he pulls away, he leaves his hands resting on Y/N's chest “ but I do have a surprise for you” 

“ A surprise?” 

Dick removes his hands from Y/N's chest and grabs one of his hands instead and intwines their fingers together. He pulls Y/N along the hallways and to a room Y/N’s pretty sure he has never seen before.  

“ has that room always been there?” 

“ of course it has” Dick replies whilst covering Y/N's eye and opening the door 

“Babe I Love you but if its another child we’re breaking up” 

The titan shakes his head with a grin “it's not another child”  

“Good because I can barely put up with the ones you have already, except Gar He’s great, love that kid ” 

“ I’m sure he’d love to know that, keep your eyes closed” Dick steps away and walks further into the room 

“   Can I open my eyes now?” Y/N asks hearing dick messing with something  

“Okay, now” 

Y/N opens his eyes and blinks to get his eyes used to the bright lights, then he sees what dick had done for him. In front of him was a scene ripped straight from some romantic film an indoor picnic. Y/N knows He is smiling like a love-struck fool, but he doesn't care he needs to kiss his boyfriend right this second. He turns around once he feels the older get closer and wraps his arms around his neck and pulls, pressing their lips together. 

“Aww, Dick you didn’t have to, you know?” Y/N says pulling away from his lover's arms and walking towards the makeshift picnic on the floor and sits down.  

Dick follows him taking a seat Infront of him on the other side of the blanket “yes, I did, it's your birthday, I wanted to do something special” 

Y/N picks up a cupcake and takes a bite and practically moans at the taste causing dick to laugh at his boyfriend “I'm guessing that means you like them then?”  

“you are correct” Y/N finishes the rest of his cupcake then looks around for his next snack and watches as dick reaches for a handful of goldfish and chuckles making dick stop halfway to his mouth. 

“what?”  

“You didn’t know it was today, Did you?” Y/N snorts as dick starts to flounder  

“ I- erm-I" 

“Babe its fine, I didn’t tell you” 

“still, you should celebrate your birthday “ 

Y/N shrugged “So how did you find out anyway?” 

“Rachel Told me” 

“of course, she did, how did you manage to do all this before I got home?” Y/N asked picking up a twizzler and putting it in his mouth 

“I’m just that great” 

“You made the kids help you, didn’t you?” 

“of course, I did” Dick smiled as his boyfriend snorted a chuckle. 

“ you’re terrible” Y/N throws a goldfish at him with a grin,  

He hopes he is never without that’s smile or moments like this, if he had to give everything up, he would just for him. Dick leans across the spread of snacks, Y/N meets him halfway bring Their lips together in a soft kiss, by time they pull apart the food has been forgotten. 

“Happy birthday baby”  

[mountswhore]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 — mason mount

summary: chelsea’s massage therapist, and mason’s long term crush, had moved to a different club. but after reuniting at nationals, you realise just how much you missed him.

notes: requests are open, just ask! this is so fucking long, please read when you have time.

“I will take care of you.” + “I could never get tired of you.”

for @masterclassbaby

“she’s pretty,” mason hummed, chin in the palm of his hands and eyes gazing at you. chelsea’s newest sports massage therapist. he watched as you conversed with a few of the injured teammates, the boys on either side of him laughing at his blushed cheeks.

“mounty’s in love.” chilly sang, pushing mason gently. the three of them were laying on the turf, waiting for their trainer to arrive and being introduced to the pretty lady who would be massaging their injured limbs from now on. “go on, make a move before kai does. you know he will.”

“i’m not making any moves,” mason huffed and pushed himself to his feet, ben following suit and pulling a ball towards him with his foot, “can i appreciate her beauty without wanting to make a move?” ben rolled his eyes at his friend, eyes now focused on the ball for the first time in twenty minutes.

“so you’re just going to stare at her, like a creep.” ben stated, stopping the ball with the side of his foot and kicked it back to mason. “noted.” mason was barely focused, looking over to you every time you laughed or your voice echoed. he’d laugh with you, crinkling his nose when you did, it was sickening.

ben had kicked the ball to mason’s feet, where is stilled and hadn’t even broken his stare. he had ‘regained control of the ball’ by kicking mason’s ankles, which had definitely caught his attention and caused him to hiss in pain. “you fucker, what did you do that for?”

“i just gave you a reason to talk to her, you clown.” ben revealed sarcastically, mason limping over to you as you held a look of concern.

“everything okay, mount?” you politely asked, the slight touch on his back as well as hearing his name fall from your mouth was sending him into a frenzy. he just nodded, and followed you inside to where your new office resided. “what the hell happened? last time i looked, you were kicking a ball about with chilly.”

your voice was as silky as he’d imagined. “yeah, he’s a bit slow. so he thought kicking me in the ankles would be a wise idea.” you couldn’t help but giggle at the man’s joke, avoiding his gaze as you were sure to blush. this man was attractive, but it was your first day, you had to remain professional.

“i better get to work,” you huffed, rubbing some hand sanitiser onto your hands and pulling his socks down. “we can’t have chelsea’s best player injured a few days before the game,” you’d finally met eyes and stared at each other for a brief second, before bashful looking away.

“you think that?” mason almost sounded unsure of himself.

“of course,” you grinned and applied some pressure to the side of his ankle, “i’d say you’re one of the best.” mason hummed almost silently, resting his head back on the table. it didn’t hurt, and if anything, he’d have to thank chilly for kicking his ankles, as it got you two talking.

weeks had passed, mason visiting your office most days with random excuses.

“my legs are fine. but maybe a shoulder rub for good luck?”

“i bought you a smoothie.”

“it’s cold outside, and i told the boys my thighs were sore.”

“now i’m just bored.”

every time he’d appear, you’d just pull up a chair instead of prepping the table. he’d talk to you about the most random of things, the pair of you having an intense debate on whether or not ross and rachel were on a break. he’d quickly become your favourite visitor.

“mr. mount, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you questioned, knowing it was him just by the way he fiddled with the handle before opening the door. he grinned at the nickname, sitting in the desk chair beside you.

“i actually came to ask if you wanted to go for a drink tonight. the boys were meant to, but now it looks like i’m all alone.” mason explained, a white lie thrown into the mix. he wasn’t being left by the boys, he asked them to cancel, so he could spend some with you. “so, you fancy it?”

“sure.” you smiled, accepting his invitation before you could overthink your way into cancelling. “i’ll text you my address.” he nodded his head, resting his head on his hands as you got on with paperwork. you could see out of the corner of your eye, he was staring at you as you worked. he had no training to be getting on with, and saw a better pastime in watching you work.

when you’d finally finished work and gotten yourself dressed up, mason was even more in awe of you. you looked adorable at work, and now he’d seen you in a new light. it’s like seeing your crush outside of school, it’s weird not seeing them in uniform, but seeing a new layer of them was good. he’d picked you up and taken you to the nicest pub he could find, it was a quiet one. it was a pub you had to pay extra for to sit on the terrace with a table to yourself. but he was willing to go the distance.

“it’s weird not seeing you in your kit.” you mentioned, staring at his impeccable sense of fashion. like he’d been ripped from the front page of asos. mason chuckled loudly and sipped on his beer, after doing a brief ‘cheers’ with you. it was british tradition, after all.

“i know. i’m used to seeing you in leggings and a chelsea top.” mason observed, his cheeks blushing at the way you looked at him. he felt the butterflies begin to swarm in his stomach, like they did on the way here. “now you’re in a dress, i can see your legs.” his eyes widened at the weird statement that just fell from his lips, face burning with embarrassment. “sorry, that sounded so creepy.”

you burst into laughter, feeling anything but disturbed. in fact, you felt more comfortable with him. “don’t worry about it, you’re easy to feel comfortable with.” mason took this chance to hide his rosy cheeks by sipping on his beer. the pair of you conversed for well over an hour, your conversations from work spilling into the mix too. and soon enough you were laughing on the walk back to your home.

“that’s hilarious. i can’t believe we could’ve almost met years ago.” you exclaimed, mason proud of recalling that memory. the pair of you remembered an awful christmas concert that happened in a town near central london, and were almost inches apart unknowingly covering your ears at the screeches made by the backup singers.

you’d ended up at your door, mason standing just centimetres away from your face. you knew what he wanted, and you wanted it to. so, with the confidence given to you by the mixer you’d just downed a while ago, you closed the gap between you and engaged in a sweet kiss with him. it was well overdue, mason’s teammates would say as he told them the following day.

you’d settled in really nicely with the team, enjoying every day you spent at the training grounds. you’d only been on that one drink date with mason, always planning to reschedule another but you’d both be too busy to do so. it didn’t stop you from texting nonstop and have some late night facetime calls. you were really beginning to like each other. it was as if nothing could ruin your happiness you felt with your life at this moment.

until you’d been pulled aside and told by chelsea’s own manager that a man united massage therapist had quit, offering you the job. it would mean your whole life would shift, you’d have to move, you’d have to make friends with a team all over again, and leave mason. you couldn’t bear telling him, which you’d also been told to do. you’d have to break the news to your beloved team, who would come and cheer with you after a win, and always pester you with random requests. you were each of their’s personal assistant almost, loving your relationship with them all. and mason, you knew he’d be crushed, the girl he was so deeply falling for, being told to move to another club.

you were on edge since that very morning, not being your usual joking self with your boys as they came in for their sessions. you’d weakly smile at them and make small talk whilst tending to their stiff joints, then let them leave. all the boys carried on with their day, assuming you were just having a bad day. but mason could see through you, he could tell something was playing on your mind.

as you were putting pressure on mason’s ankle, which he’d been take off the pitch for last week, he grabbed your arm gently. sitting up, he pulled you close to him and held you how he usually did. his hands grazing your sides and his eyes almost burning holes into your own. “talk to me, pretty. what’s on your mind?”

you shook your head. “i’d go easy on the foot today, mount. i don’t want to see you benched next game.” would you even be able to see their next game? it brought you close to tears throughout the day, but being trapped in a room with mason, you were bound to cry and tell him everything.

his grip didn’t leave your arm, instead he pulled you closer to him and held you close to his chest, now standing and towering over you. you felt a sob erupt through your chest, opening the flood gates as you cried into him. he’d never seen you like this, you were always his smiling ball of sunshine. “talk to me, y/n.”

“they’re moving me.” you simply stated, hoping not to say another word and him just understand completely. but it didn’t work like that, none of the team knew. mason would be the first to know, and you had to tell the rest of the team before the day was up. as this weekend you’d be arranging accommodation in manchester whilst you looked for permanent residence, as well as meeting the team and staff you’d be working for.

“what?”

“they’re moving me to united, mase. a therapist quit over there and they asked for me, your manager signed me over a few days ago. and i’m gonna be leaving you boys.” you explained, mason’s grip on you loosening as he tried to come to terms with what you were saying. he’d had his fair share of bad news in his life, but this was the biggest blow he’d felt in a while.

“they can’t do that,” mason stuttered over his tears, a frown cast upon his face, “they can’t just expect you to pack up and leave.” you placed your hands over his cheeks, forcing him to look down at you. that’s when his tears began to fall, looking so vulnerably at each other in this time of sadness.

“they can, mason. and they have, i need to go this weekend to meet the team and look to move up there.” you admitted, your hands refused to leave his face. you were soaking up every bit of mason you could before you left. long-distance didn’t work for either of you, especially with how busy you both were. the only time you’d see each other would be if chelsea were to play united.

“i can’t lose you, y/n.” he confessed, pulling you into him and resting his head above yours. it wasn’t just losing a girl he was seeing, it was losing someone he loved. he’d fallen deeply in love with you — but telling you would just hinder your movement. he couldn’t make it any harder than it was, it would ruin you. he just had to let you go.

that afternoon, you’d thought about what you were going to say and met the boys on the pitch. the second mason saw you, it took everything in him to not cry into his hands. but he managed to stay strong. you stood weakly beside the team manager, avoiding everyone’s eyes and fiddling with your jumper sleeves.

“afternoon boys,” you greeted them, hearing a few cheers and whistles, they loved you, “i have some news. today will be my last day working with you. i’ve been transferred to united, which will take full effect this weekend. you guys have my number if you just want to talk rubbish, or have any questions for me.” it was a long while of hugging them all, laughing with them and repeating little inside jokes with them.

“what are you going to do without me, huh?” you asked reece, who just chuckled and gave you a squeeze. “i’ll miss you all, you know who i’ll be cheering on if you ever go against united.”

you’d settled in at united perfectly, but something was missing. it was always going to feel this way, nothing would ever break the bond you shared with the chelsea boys. even when they went head to head, and you’d catch mason’s eyes on the pitch, you’d have to hide your smile when they scored, and try even harder if mason was the one putting it in the back of the net. you got on well with the boys here, but you found yourself missing the boys back at chelsea, and most of all, mason.

months had passed since your move to manchester, and you were heading out of your office on a particular tiring friday afternoon, walking past united’s manager, who always seemed to be on his way to something.

“ah, y/n, just who i needed to see.” he commented, stopping you as you were headed out to find a late rashford for his session. “keep an eye on your emails tonight, please. you’ve been included in an international offer.” you nodded, not hearing anything past the word ‘email’. and when you’d gotten home that evening, waiting for your takeaway to arrive, you mindlessly scrolled your emails.

something about the upcoming world cup, saying you’d been selected as the teams massage therapist. it burned your eyes as you danced around your tiny living room; so happy to have a chance at seeing any of the chelsea boys again. you’d thought that after all these months of just seeing mason’s face in his instagram posts, he’d have forgotten about you and moved on. but it was the furthest from the truth.

mason watched over your socials for months, seeing your various pictures with the likes of rashford, shaw, and lingard. he made sure you had friends and was having a good time up north. but every night he’d go to bed, yearning for you and the time you both spent together. missing your first kiss, missing hearing the sound of your laugh in real life, not just through another footballers videos. he missed spending hours on the phone. and although he had a chance to reconnect with you, it would be too much for the both of you to handle. he’d miss you so much more, knowing you were simply unobtainable.

after signing all of the correct documents to show you could in fact work for the national team, you were on your way to the training grounds and coping with living in the camp alongside the boys and other members of staff. it was better than your tiny manchester apartment, that was for sure. you weren’t really needed outside for training, so you set up your office and began on your paperwork. time passed a lot quicker here than it did when you worked at united, it was nearing your lunch break already. a knock was placed at your door, bringing your out of your work daze.

“hello, stranger.” you heard from behind you, heart overjoyed that it was actually him. it was your mason. you turned round to greet him, standing up and immediately pulling him into a hug. it felt familiar, the only bit of familiarity you had in this place. “god, i missed you.” he even smelt the same, as creepy as it was to say.

“i knew you’d be called up,” you admitted to him, looking up at his red face. it was just like the first time, he was so nervous to talk to you, “you’re still my best player.” his hands found your cheeks, taking advantage of the affection not feeling awkward. it was as if you never left.

“you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you all these months, y/n,” he whispered, face centimetres away from yours. “how much i’ve wanted to kiss you again.” you wanted it too, you finally felt like you found your missing piece. but you had to remain professional, this was national level now, not just club level.

“trust me,” you whispered back at him, holding your hands above his own, “i’ve wanted to kiss this pretty face, too. but we have to be professional.” he nodded, understanding that if they were caught, you’d be the one facing repercussions, not him. so he respected your choice and stood back.

“what about when the day’s over, and we go back to the camp,” he suggested, a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning around, “what would you say to me then?” you just shrugged, sitting back down in your chair and continuing your work. the remainder of your day was quiet, just talking about a few people tomorrow that have stiff joints that need loosening. you’d made your way back to camp, opening your door and sighing as you took your shoes off.

what room are you in? mason texted, waiting outside his door.

you’re eager, i just finished work. but i’m on the floor above you, room 39. you texted him back, speedily changing your attire for something more comfortable and freshening up. mason would be up here within seconds. and whilst there were no rules stating that the squad shouldn’t be in staff members rooms, it felt wrong.

“you’re gonna have to leave when nobody can see you.” you sighed, opening your door to an eager mason. he wormed past you and sat on your bed, semi annoyed that your bed was comfortable than his.

“so not only do you get a room to yourself, you get a bed that doesn’t feel like a plank of wood.” mason stated, clearly getting comfortable on your bed. “i just might have to stay here.” you rolled your eyes and sat beside him, resting your head on the pillow. “you tired?”

instead of saying anything, you nodded and inched closer to him. his right hand was drawing delicate patterns on your exposed arm, whilst the other was wrapped around you. this was the moment he wanted with you, even when you were working at chelsea. but it’s happening now and that’s all he cared about. holding the girl he still deeply loved in his arms.

“i’ll go down to dinner soon,” he mentioned, even if you could hear him or not, “maybe i’ll bring you something up.” a small kiss was placed on your temple, mason snuggling into you a bit more.

the next day, you knew you had some sessions. so you were up early, a text from mason on your phone.

i left late last night, i fell asleep once i came back from dinner. i hope you had a good night.

you blushed at his text, getting yourself prepared for the day. the boys had a match coming up soon and you wanted to be on top of your game, making sure they were all stretched and ready. you sat in your office, prepping your table and your paper work for the first person to enter.

you’d worked with grealish, bellingham, and lingard today. and they only had a few more hours training until they were done for the day. you sighed in your seat and rested your head against your desk, arms and hands sore. your handle was violently shoved down, your door opening in the process. startled, you watched declan carry his best mate in.

“he rolled his ankle taking a kick,” declan explained, helping his friend onto the table. you quickly sanitised your hands and pulled his sock down to observe his ankle. “will he be okay for the game in a few days?”

“yes, dec. he’ll be out in no time.” you reassured his friend, mason smiling through the sharp pain shooting through his ankle. declan had left shortly afterwards, leaving you to giggle at mason.

“what you giggling at, hm?” mason questioned, a finger tickling your side. you squirmed and brushed a hand over his head, his features relaxing under your touch.

“it’s always the ankles, hm?” you retorted, mason rolling his eyes before letting out a laugh of his own. “let’s get you back on your feet in time for this game.” you had taken his boot and sock off, applying gentle pressure to the sides of his ankle and seeing how badly he reacted to the pain.

after the next few days of training, it was finally time for the match. you stood nervously on the side of the pitch, watching the ball being passed around. you watched as it had gone to mason, someone from the opposing team sliding into mason, and knocking his ankles together. he fell and began to yell in pain, the medics rushing over to him and assessing the pain. after realising it was not too serious, but he still had to be taken off, they’d given the job to you.

mason sat on one of the chairs beside you, head leaned back as you pulled his socks down. he winced as your small, cold fingers had pressed different parts of his ankle, but it didn’t feel bad. in fact, it was quite relieving. “it really is always the ankles,” mason finally agreed, making you chuckle and sit on the floor opposite him, “god, it fucking hurts.”

“i will take care of you,” you mentioned, your hand sliding into his. he smiled at the contact, his free hands gently tickling your side. this small amount of public affection felt scary, but good. you knew someone would pick up on it, but you didn’t care in the slightest. you had been away from mason for far too long. months and months apart, yearning for each other every second you were awake.

when the match was over, england scoring a whopping 4-0, mason was by your side for the rest of the evening. even getting onto the coach to go home, he sat beside you the whole way; his hand in yours and his head gently resting against your shoulders. when heading back to camp, knowing you had a day’s break before the boys were back on for training again in time for the next match, mason followed you to your room. you didn’t mind, neither did anybody else really.

you’d gotten into bed beside him that night, eyes heavy from the amount of work you’d both put in today, and the buzzed feeling from declaring victory had awoken something in him. he had the urge to kiss you, like he has every moment he’s spent with you recently, but more than that. he wanted to tell you he loved you, but decided to keep quiet. he wanted to save it for another day, maybe someday more special, when you weren’t trying to catch up on sleep between games.

“are you tired of me?” mason asked, releasing his voice into the darkness. he had no idea whether you were awake or asleep, as half an hour had passed of you both enjoying each other’s presence. you were wide awake, although your eyes told a different story.

“i’m tired in general,” you admitted, rolling over to face him, barely catching his pearly whites in the dark, “but i could never get tired of you.” mason’s heart was beating through his chest, reaching out for your hand to place onto it. it was a special moment — feeling his heart rapidly paced from your words, you’d barely noticed mason’s arm around you as he pulled you into him.

“good, because i’m not letting you go again,” he spoke quietly, your hand now replaced with your head, feeling his pulses on your cheekbone. you smiled for the millionth time that day, happy you had your mason back.

[tangerinenotions95]

So Much For Normal - A Seth Clearwater FanFic (Chapter 2)

Chapter 3

"I'll see you guys later" I said waving to my parents and rushing out the front door, backpack in tow. I ran up to the silver mini cooper parked in front of my house and hopped in.

"Morning Ness"

"Hey girl" She said smiling at me.

"Okay what is it?" I asked he as we sped down the road towards school. She sighed, "Fine but promise me you won't make a big deal out of it okay?" She asked eyeing me suspiciously.

"Okay I promise" I put my hands up in defeat, "Now tell me what's on your mind bestie" I said to her causing her to shake her head.

"It's kind of my birthday this Friday and my family want to throw me a party much to my objection" She sighed.

I squealed, "Oh my God this is so exciting, you are eighteen right?" I asked her. She nodded, "Yeah" She replied nervously. We were now parked outside of school. She hopped out of the car and started walking and I quickly followed her.

"Don't think you can avoid this topic missy" I told her.

"It's just a birthday" She shrugged.

"Okay well then don't focus on that, focus on the party where you can have all your family and friends together and we can dance and eat and have fun" I told her walking backwards so I could face her. She stopped suddenly looking defeated, "Okay fine but promise me that if at any point I need to escape you and Jacob will help me" She said smiling.

"Deal" I told her.

Later that day we were sitting around the lunch table discussing party details, Nessies aunt Alice was organising it, the only thing we had to take care of was the guest list.

"Just invite the whole school" Rachel stated. We all stared at her, "What?"

"Rachel I'm just about okay with this party without the whole school being there" Nessies stated bewildered by her friends comment.

"She has a point though, it would be easier and chances are word will get out and everyone will just turn up anyway" Casey said shrugging like it was obvious.

"Guys I'm not having a frat party or anything, my whole family will be there like" Nessie pointed out.

"And that smoking boyfriend of your and all his smoking hot friends" Mara said winking, Nessies retaliated by throwing a french fry at her.

"HEY" She squealed laughing.

"First of all they are all taken and secondly you have a boyfriend" Nessie said. "Ryan is not my boyfriend, at least not officially" she said shyly.

"Oh please, you two will be all loved up by Christmas break I could bet on it" Casey said matter of fact causing the whole table to laugh.

"Moral of the story, don't get any ideas about the guys from the rez"

"Surely one of them is single??" Rachel pushed looking hopeful. I can't say I blame her I've met Nessies boyfriend Jacob and some of his friends Quil and Embry. There was no denying that they were good looking guys but they all had that someone special.

"Do you ever think about anything but boys Rachel?" I ask her sarcastically

"Oh rich coming from the girl who has refused every guy that has asked you out since you got here and the list is long" She replied smugly.

I roll my eyes playfully, "I just don't want to waste my time on pointless dates that go nowhere, I want to wait for someone worthwhile that's all".

"Boring" Casey retorted and now I shoved him playfully. "Can we get back to the party now?" I asked focusing my attention back to Renesmee.

"No need, you guys are right I'll just invite everyone and see what happens" She stated laughing at all our shocked faces.

"That's my girl" Casey said high-fiving her.

***

The rest of the week went quickly and the whole school was hyped for Nessies part tonight, except for Nessie of course.

"What if this was a bad idea? What if no one has fun? Or no one even turns up?" She asks me panicking as we walk out of school. I put my arm over her shoulder, "Ness it will be great I promise an if no one shows up then we will still party and I'll throw down some amazing dance moves if it seems like no one is enjoying it so I'll be the talk of the school Monday okay?" I reassure her and managing to make her laugh.

She nods, "Thanks y/n" she gives me a squeeze.

We walk over to the motorbike parked outside of school.

"Hey Jacob" "Hey y/n" She smiles at me and pecks Ness on the forehead.

"Jacob please make sure this one doesn't freak out about the party and I'll see you guys later okay?" He nods, "I'll do my best".

"See you later y/n/n" Ness waves as they both hop on Jakes bike and head out of the school parking lot. I walk over to the jeep I bought a few weeks ago, it was old but it worked like it was new. I hopped in and headed home so I could get ready for the party.

As I drove home I couldn't help wonder what Renesmees family will be like. I don't actually know a lot about the Cullens but according to Casey and Rachel no one really does, all they know is that they are rich and tend to keep to themselves. This seems so odd because Renesmee is so open and bubbly.

I pull up outside my house and head inside, dad is still at work and Clara was in bed because she had been on the night shift and only got home a few hours ago. I made myself something small to eat and went upstairs for a shower.

I dried left my hair in a towel as I done my make up and then let it dry naturally into curls once I was done. I started rooting through my wardrobe for something to wear. Forks is a small town and people dress quite casually around here so I tended to do the same but tonight is a party so I think I can up it a little bit. I settled on an Autumn coloured floral dress with knee high brown boots and an oversized denim jacket. I didn't bother with a bag because everything fit into my pockets.

I headed downstairs where Clara was up and watching the TV.

"Hi Sweetie"

"Hi Clara" I said hiving her a hug, "You look lovely" She beamed, Clara was the closest thing I had to a mum in a long time. My own died when I was six and a few years later dad met Clara.

"Thanks, I'm so excited for this party" I told her, "Do you need a lift?" She asked.

"No I'm okay, I'll drive I don't think it will go on too late anyway" I told her walking towards the door.

"Okay then well have fun and be safe" She told me, "I always am" I reply blowing her a kiss.

I followed the direction Nessie had given me and after following a winding, tree covered road for what seemed like ages I started to hear the loud thudding of music in the distance. I followed it and pulled up in front of what I can only describe as a huge house with a modern finish and wall to floor glass windows. Colourful lights flashed through and I could see that the house was packed full of people. I hopped out and walked towards it, before I had even reached the top step the front door swung open.

"y/n/n you're here" Ness said engulfing me in a hug, she stepped back and I saw two beautiful people standing on either side of her, "Hello" I said shyly not sure if they would hear me over the music.

"y/n, hi it's so nice to finally meet you, I'm Bella and this is Edward, Renesmees parents.

I had to contain my shock as these people did not look old enough to have an eighteen year old daughter, "Ugh It's nice to meet you too" I managed trying to cover myself. Edward studied me for a moment before smiling, "No need for formalities, come on in and enjoy the party" I smiled back at him.

Ness grabbed my hand and pulled me in through the hoard of people, "Welcome to a Cullen party" She told me.

[barbarianprncess]

did you mean it?

read on ao3.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.

The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.

Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh...did they…”    

“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”

“I think they would.”

“They would never-”

“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.

“But, how did-”

“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.

“Okay, but-”

“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Leave them out of this.”

“Those fuckers.”

“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know lots of things you don’t.”

“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”

“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards  the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”

“Your phone?”

“Left it on the truck.”

“Iris message?”

“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“Just a little.”

“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”

“Yes.”

“So, we’re stuck here.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re laughing?”

“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”

“Not helping-”

“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”

“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”

“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”

“Five hours?”

“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”

“Five hours.”

She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”

“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”

“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.

And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.

They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.

They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.

“Your mom called me the other day.”

Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”

“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”

“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.

“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.

“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”

He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.

“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.

“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”

He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.

The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.

“Did you mean it?”

She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.

“Of course I meant it.”

She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.

Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…

Whoa.

He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.

Waiting for this. Waiting for her.  

They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.

And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.

She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”

His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”

Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.

It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”

He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”

He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.

“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.

They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.

And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”

He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”

But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.

He is so screwed.

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. im sorry, yall cant tell me RS is some peak of writing when she can't even keep a tone consistent in a single episode. one second its a horrific sequence of violence and abuse for shock value, then the next second theyre making slapstick "jokes" and making goofy expressions. its good to have moments of comedy and lighter episodes to break up the tension, but those tonal whiplashes cant be forced together in nearly every episode. it just gives away rachel doesn't know what she's doing.

2. IDK why RS sounds so angry in her break post? Yeah it's very obvious it was Webtoons making her to do it but them finally showing some care for their creators to not burn out isn't a bad thing? I doubt the writing will improve or the art will go back to its former standard once it comes back, its too late for that now and her former style has been gone since 2019, but having a break isn't a bad idea. I know she isn't used to actually being told what to do by Webtoons is right in this scenario.

From OP: So, from another webtoon creator on twitter, the Remarried Empress creator went on break and only got like 1/10 of their income when they came back. Other webtoon creators were also saying that while on break, their income is basically non-existent. This might not be the reason RS wouldn’t want a break but this is a pretty understandable reason, especially since it’ll affect her livelihood.

3. I don't think an asexually budded kid would have hades lusting after them, i think it would be bad in the fact hades clearly only sees family through biological means. the bad dynamic would be in he wouldnt accept the child because theyre not what he wants because theyre not from him physically. if that wasnt the case he would have doted after young thanatos like a prince since he would be the child he never had, not mistreat and abuse him like how hades actually treated him as a literal child.

4. it should also be pointed out stuff like PJO and Hades game almost entirely get critiqued because they actually implement being diverse and inclusive and even (gasp) have main characters and relationship be BIPOC and LGBTQ+, so it's usually pissy white kids hating on them, meanwhile LO critics are the exact opposite in being overwhelming BIPOC queer women and people calling out its main gross, status quo protecting choices and regrssive ideals. i'm just saying their critiques are not the same.

5. LMAOOOO guys what if the "dread queen" persephone we see isnt actually her, but the asexuality budded heir she makes for hades? like RS just puts all P's negative traits in this kid (Melinoe maybe? she is the goddess of nightmares) and has her be the dread bringer while P gets to stay the uwu precious bean queen, and its just a fake out of her "daughter" being confused for her because theyre clones of each other. the panel stays canon w/o actually developing P. thats my fan theory now.

6. tbh if LO started out with the more simple style there would still be art critique but not to such a degree now. we saw how much effort it used to have, so to see such a stark decline since then opens it up way more to criticism for it, because we do know what it once was, and it seems both pure laziness and burn out has caused it to entirely go away. even rs' non lo art now is all in the more current rushed style, so its safe to say that old style is just not coming back, sorry to say :(

7. i feel like a lot of the stans dont get that a lot of frustration at LO is the fact its a very subpar product, especially now, made by an entitled white woman who constantly whines about "haters" who gets everything handed to her for her mediocre work (which is often the work of her underpaid team), meanwhile many more talented, hardworking, and diverse creators (like her own co-workers) who are making so much better products are left in the dirt. How is that not frustrating?

8. I feel like the anon who likes Thanatos and Minthe being likeable and the anon talking about Persephone never being able to stand up for herself/ never being punished go well together.

Minthe and Thanatos do face consequences for their actions. Hermes doing more souls behind Hades back made Thaantos look worse on paper and Hades chewed his ass out for it. Thanatos went to Helios and was burned. We even see Thanatos get nervous when Daphne talks about a Persephone. He’s aware of his actions and what may happen.

Minthe is also aware of her faults actions etc. after she slaps hades she says she needs to apologize, she knows what she did was wrong to Persephone when she sees it on the camera and freaks out. She even wonders why Persephone hasn’t ratted her out yet until it’s used as black mail. Minthe apologizes to hades right before she knows they’re gonna fight about the break up. She even sulks after her fight with Thetis but doesn’t blame anyone else but herself. I’m excluding when Hades fires her because Hades brought her as an employee first into his life girlfriend second and treated her as disposable and tried to smooth things over by just throwing money at her(I’ll pay for your schooling if you never try to bring up the fact I dumped you for a 19 year old, no hard feelings right?;)

But Persephone the worst she is aware is that she’s bad at her job that she doesn’t even do any more. Persephone is just a cloud in the sky not aware of her own actions but that’s fine since they have no consequences and if there’s almost consequences don’t worry hades will throw money at the problem.

I wouldn’t say Minthe and Thanatos are likeable because they face consequences but they’re more rounded out characters with flaws, power in their narrative, overcoming and hiding faults. 

9. Persephone telling Hades she will explain to him why torturing mortals is wrong and why Elysium is needed is basically "I can fix him" narration. Change my mind

10. That’s it too bc other than Hers and Persephone (which really isn’t a “mentor” relationship and has some rather gross things about it considering Hera only cares about her for Hades’ sake) there’s no genuinely good female relationships of any sort. Daphne and the nymphs are just said “to be like sisters” to Persephone but we see no actual proof of this. There’s no good mother and daughter relationships with Demeter, Métis, Leto, even Hera to her own children. The only decent mother relationship is towards Rhea and her SON Hades. Minthe and Thetis were horribly toxic with Thetis especially taking advantage of Minthe. Artemis and Persephone aren’t friends at all, Persephone is instead closer to a guy who had her kidnapped and basically forced her to admit she was SA’d to him! Hera only likes Echo because she’s “one of the good ones” and it’s a gross repeat of HxP being a boss lusting after their worker, but it’s a #diversity win because it’s between two women? I suppose the only “ok” female relationship is Athena and Hestia, but that also comes with the fact they’re the only confirmed LGBTQ+ rep used to oppress the poor straight couple, are still hyper gendered in their designs, and from Rachel’s own mouth is deeply ace-phobic and a horrible depiction of actual gay relationships. For something claiming to be about women and female empowerment, it fails on every front to even show women as anything other than props for the mens’ consumption and benefit.