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milkymoon2483 · 1 year

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Eyes On Me

Push & Pull - Episode 5 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

Previous episode | Series Masterlist

OH MY GOD. This took forever and drained my soul and was promptly nicknamed “the cursed porn”, and now it’s done. You have been warned.

Summary: You’re invited to dinner at Dobora’s to give you a proper send off to your last semester in college. Frank will not look at you, he has gone cold and distant in fear that someone might figure out what’s going on between the two of you, causing you to have doubts of your own.

Rating: Very much E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Alternating POV, age gap (legal), SMUT WITH ALL CAPS THIS IS THE CORNIEST CORN I HAVE EVER WRITTEN MAAM, P in V, Finger in ass, blowjob, and a whole bunch of angst and abandonment issues.

WC: ~4800 cuz of all the smutses

Thank you my lovelies.

@romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid @theonewheresheindulges @midnightswithdearkatytspb

Eyes on me

There was a quick change in your expression as you were walking towards Frank's truck. He anticipated it, but it did not prevent the sting of it.

You stepped out of your front door with a sweet excited smile, and he watched as the corners of your berry coloured mouth dropped and eyes widened with surprise the moment you realized your cousins were sitting in the car with him. He had sent you a text to warn you but you seemed to have missed it. Now he had to witness your disappointment first hand.

Deborah invited you both to dinner with her and the boys before you were due to return to school, a proper send off and a reason to get together under happier circumstances. She asked Frank if he could give Jacob and his younger brother Adam a ride back to her place, and he happily agreed before realizing that your private drive would not be so private anymore.

Frank was a simple man, and the moment he allowed himself to look at you the way he wanted to, he was unable to stop. The cleavage of your dress underneath your coat, and the deep berry of your lips drew his attention instantly.

His breath hitched for a second when you climbed into his truck, trying your best to act 'normal' as you sat next to Adam in the back. Frank wished you could sit next to him. Your scent was fresh and sweet, hair still damp from the shower, bringing back memories that caused his cock to twitch with interest.

The drive was mostly silent, He made a point to keep his eyes strictly on the road, only glancing in the back mirror once…or twice.

You pulled your phone out of your purse and that’s when you saw it.

You understood why he would not look at you, why he barely returned your quick "hey" as you entered the car and hasn't said a word to you since. You both knew you'd have to be careful around your family, and there was no need to talk about it as the silent agreement seemed obvious. You wondered if anyone would see something nonetheless.

18:06 Frank

Deb asked me to pick up Jacob and Adam too.

Straight to the point. Not even a sad little emoji.

This thing between the two of you was still fragile and undefined, so just for that night you'd have to put it aside and let it be. You were surprised that the dull ache that was always present when you were around him was still there. There was still something intangible about him, not for you to discover.

He sat across the table from you but his eyes avoided you, as if looking at you would turn him into stone.

Was he afraid that what you shared would be written all over his face as soon as he did?

You were afraid of it too, but found it harder to control yourself, sneaking cautious looks, only to find his eyes pointing elsewhere.

The air of uncertainty hovered heavily above you, raising question mark after question mark. Your thoughts raced, worrying that his doubts were far from doused. Whatever stopped him all those times must've still haunted him. Everything changed since then, but the basic facts remained the same. You still needed to hide this from everyone else.

You wished you could talk to him, although you weren’t sure what you’d say. He didn’t owe you anything, no explanations, no excuses. You couldn’t help but ask yourself which version of him will you encounter the next time you're alone.

Frank did his best to keep his face neutral and disinterested, but he was amazed again, at how sharp and motivated you are. You spoke with confidence, poise, like you had everything figured out. When he tried to remember himself at that age, he had no idea what he was doing, not even a clue.

Most of dinner was spent in pleasant conversation. Deborah was somehow able to lighten everyone's mood, set aside the passing of your father to talk about future plans and hopes.

You spoke about college and your plans for after. You were hoping that your GPA would allow you to continue to a masters in psychology, which would eventually allow you to practice.

You've recited this 'speech' many times during the shiva, repeating it to every nosy relative and family friend, but this time Frank was listening. You secretly hoped he'd be impressed, that you sounded mature and goal driven and responsible.

She's so young He was reminded again.

*********

He was constantly acutely aware of you, willing his eyes to focus on anything else, training his features, controlling his movements. It felt like a never-ending game of poker he was bound to lose.

You were making it impossible. Licking that spoon, tossing your hair to the side, exposing your neck, taunting him with each move you made. It would have been considered cruel if you were doing it on purpose.

Closing the bathroom door behind yourself, you let out a breathy sigh of relief, finally not having to school your expression and be hyper aware of your every word. Is this what family dinners are going to look like from now on, always having to navigate the minefield that is Frank Castle?

You missed his smile, his genuine softness that peeked through his exterior when he was playful and relaxed, the creases around his eyes and the warmth he radiated when he knew you were the only one able to see him.

"You got a little bit of 'shmutz' there" you remarked playfully as you were eating french toast in your dad's kitchen, still not fully clothed after fucking on the table.

You gingerly wiped the maple syrup with your finger and put it in your mouth.

"That's some Jewish flirtin' " he said and chuckled warmly.

Was that just a small glimpse you got before he was inevitably going to take it all away?

You wondered if that memory will turn sour, like many others before it, like a word you keep repeating in your head until it loses its meaning.

You took a deep breath before heading back outside, back to his avoidant eyes and blank expression.

You stepped out into the corridor, about to head back into the living room, when you almost collided with his broad frame. Startled, you gasped, laying a hand on his chest. He was warm and solid.

“Sorry” you muttered.

********

Frank's features softened, as his gaze lingered from your eyes to your lips.

“S’ok” he replied, with the faintest little smirk, before going into the bathroom and closing the door behind himself.

Dinner was finally over, pleasantries all exchanged, and the evening was drawing to a much anticipated end.

Relief and doubt mixed in your belly as you climbed into Frank’s truck at the end of the night. He began the silent drive back and you opted to look out of the window, your vision blurred, mesmerized by the fleeting light of each lamp post you passed. You allowed the rhythm to hypnotize you, to deflect your consciousness away from his gravitational pull.

“You ok?” the grave voice asked, drawing you right back.

“Mhm” you smiled back faintly, fighting the need to turn your head towards him.

The both of you remained quiet, and you wondered if fucking him will always be easier than talking to him. Somehow being naked in front of him seemed less vulnerable than asking him the questions you wanted to. You dreaded his reply, it was scarier than not knowing.

You wished your brain would stop, for one fucking moment. But the volume of your insistent internal dialogue only seemed to increase.

Will he touch me?

Will he invite me back to his place?

Will he say it was all a mistake and never speak to me about it again?

SHUT UP.

And then his heavy palm rested on your thigh. It’s warmth soothing and quieting the noise.

“Thanks for the ride, have a good night” you said sheepishly as you stood next to him in his driveway.

The quick realization of just how much trouble you're in with this man came soon after.

Yes you’ve fucked, but you were still just as desperate for him.

Fuck, I wish he would sto..

“And where do you think you’re goin'?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity

“I…um…Did you want me to come in?” Your voice was even quieter than before.

“Only if you wanna.." He sounded almost surprised that it wasn’t obvious.

“I do” you bit back a smile of relief.

You sat on the couch next to him, keeping your hands in your lap, your mouth open as if you wanted to speak, but no words were coming out, mouth dry and pulse thumping.

"You nervous Han?"

The question took you by surprise, was it really that obvious?

"Yeah" you nodded, heat rising to your cheeks.

"I'm makin' you nervous?" he tilted his head. Raising his brows in surprise.

"All the time" you chuckled, taken aback by your own honesty.

His hand came to rest on your cheek, thumb gently grazing your mouth. You averted your gaze to the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be nervous, s’ok baby”

He leaned closer now, so close you could feel his breath on your face, and warmth spread like wildfire from your chest to your abdomen and settled between your thighs.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, almost whispering.

You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut.

He was almost as gentle as the first time you kissed, careful strokes, deepening slowly. You whimpered with relief, allowing his tongue access into your mouth.

Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck as he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, flush against his big solid frame.

It overwhelmed you, the immediate effect of his proximity, his kiss.

Your body responded instantaneously, effortlessly, arousal gathering between your thighs, heat crawling under your skin.

This time you didn’t fight the urge to straddle his hips. You settled in his lap and you both let out a soft moan when you rubbed against his clothed cock, the seam of his jeans pressing exquisitely onto your core. You deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth, as his palms caressed your legs, skimming past the edge of your dress and sliding towards your center.

His thumbs grazed the crease of your belly, gently stroking the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs through the sheer fabric of your tights.

“waited all fucking night for this baby” he rasped, cascading open mouthed kisses down your neck.

The contrast between your adorable shyness and the ease with which you melted against him the moment he’d touch you never failed to make him hard.

I’ve waited for fuckign years.

You pulled your dress over your head, anxious to feel his skin on yours. He did not resist when you bunched his sweater in your hands and began pulling it off as well, taking the t-shirt off with it.

Your fingers skimmed the broadness of his shoulders and chest as he pulled back to look at you. Sliding his palms from your neck down the soft slope of your shoulders, gently pulling down the straps of your bra. He unclasped it with one motion, letting your breast spill out before tossing it into the pile on the floor with the rest of your clothes.

Messy hair, hooded eyes and parted lips. Beautiful and soft and pliant in his arms, Frank's eyes raked you, a gaze so intense it felt as if he was making up for all the moments he couldn’t look at you.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous” He rasped, running hungry palms from your neck down to your breasts, before latching on with his mouth.

A desperate want began building in your core, a need to taste him, to please him. You took his left hand and drew it closer to your lips. He watched through hooded lids as you slid his index and middle fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your slippery tongue around them. You bobbed your head, locking eyes with him and pumping the fingers in and out. He understood your silent request but wanted to hear you say it.

“Tell me what you need baby”

You squirmed, drawing his fingers deeper. He smirked and released them from your lips with a pop.

“I…I..want you in my mouth” you mumbled quickly, averting your eyes down.

“Use your words” He commanded, albeit gently.

He could see you hesitating, shyness coloring your cheeks red.

You were precious, so fucking sweet, and it made him impossibly harder.

“Come on now baby, whatta you need?”

There was a pause of silence, and you couldn't decipher the look in his eyes before he spoke.

”Get on your knees honey”

“Hands”. He commanded

You gulped and settled on the floor in front of him, knees on the throw pillow, heart pounding faster as you noticed a shift in Frank. A dominance flashed across his features, asking you to submit.

He stood tall above you and began slowly unclasping the buckle of his belt, pulling it out of the loops in one smooth motion that made your mouth water and your pussy throb.

It was barely tight enough, but you nodded.

You lifted your hands towards him and he carefully held both in one palm, wrapping the belt around them with the other. He gave you a reassuring look, pulling through the loop and tightening the brown leather around your wrists.

“You tell me if it’s too tight”

“If you say stop, we stop right away. Ok baby?”

Watching him take control put you at ease, you trusted him to take you apart and put you back together again, gently and meticulously.

“OK” you replied eagerly.

You have decided, long before he ever touched you, that you will let him do anything to you, that you’d surrender fully and completely.

"You done this before, baby?" He asked, eyes glazed with hunger.

Frank moved slowly, hiding the urgency that pulsed under his skin with the thought of your sweet mouth wrapped around his cock. He wanted to see you squirm with anticipation, maybe he wanted to hear you beg for it.

He opened the zipper of his jeans, leisurely pulling them down his legs. You gulped at the sight of his muscular thighs flexing. The outline of his hard cock pressed tightly against the thin fabric his boxer briefs, making your core clench.

His palm came up to gently stroke your hair, as if giving you permission, and you instinctively nuzzled your cheek onto the thick length of him, testing Frank’s patience. You pressed your lips against him, through the thin fabric, following the outline of his perfect curve, drunk on him before even having a taste. He was warm and solid, pulsating with heat and want, and it made your mouth water.

You have, but it seemed that none of the other times even mattered, or counted. You bit your bottom lip and shook your head in mock innocence.

"Fuck" he muttred, voice breathy and low, and you knew that's what he wanted to hear. As he pulled down his boxers, allowing his heavy length to spring free.

Quiet moans and gasps escaped his lips, and you listened intently to every strangled breath.

Frank carefully cupped the back of your head, letting his fingers entangle in your hair before gently pulling it back, exposing your delicate neck. He met no resistance and relished in your compliance, so eager to please him. He held the base of his cock with his other hand, slowly sliding the fat tip into your mouth, as the salty taste of precum hit your tongue. You let him in until he hit the back of your throat before wrapping your lips around him and gently sucking the heavy shaft.

Frank shuddered above you, exhaling sharply.

He began to move slowly, eyes rolling back in pleasure, pushing his length deeper with each thrust. You bobbed your head to meet his movements, letting him set the pace.

״Eyes on me” he ordered, and you obeyed, looking at him through your lashes. His nostrils flared and jaw clenched as he watched his cock slide between your plush lips.

“Atta girl, just like that..” he praised you in a soft voice, making you clench over nothing.

You could feel your arousal drip and pool in your center, soaking the fabric of your panties and tights, making you squeeze your thighs together. It was almost embarrassing, the way your body was set ablaze by the words of adoration spilling from his lips.

“Sweet girl" He caressed your face, rubbing his thumb on your aching jaw in soothing motions, while slowly fucking his cock into your mouth.

It was tender, and filthy, and you welcomed the pain of it all. The throb in your core that was getting unbearable, the ache in your legs folded beneath you, the strain on your jaw, the gag reflex that made tears sting the corners of your eyes, every bit of you that hurt with the effort.

"Such a good girl..fuck..m’gonna cum in your pretty mouth" His voice was strained as his tempo intensified, eyes never leaving you.

Frank's gaze was trained on your mouth, how his cock glistened with your spit, the wet streaks on your cheeks. Your little moans and gagging noises that he thought would make him slow down or stop, they were spurring him on, turning him almost cruel.

You hollowed out your cheeks, making him stifle a loud moan. "Just like that..fuck just like that baby..fuh..shit..." he sensed the pressure build rapidly, each thrust bringing him closer to his release. Your mouth was sweet and warm and soft and the mere thought of being the first one to fuck it sent him over the edge.

You could feel him twitch before he growled, spilling onto your tongue. The salty bitterness made you gag around him as his thrusts slowed down.

He pulled out slowly, still half hard, dripping a mixture of cum and spit onto your bare tits.

“You ok baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows in genuine concern. He reached out his hand, helping you stand back up on shaky legs.

"Swallow honey" he ordered again, his voice hoarse and wrecked.

He hummed in approval when you obeyed, still on your knees for him.

“Yeah” you returned a dazed smile, pulling him back into your game.

“You did so good” His voice was lower now.

He swiped his pointer finger through a drop of cum on your chest, and you opened eagerly, sucking it dry.

“Now,” he continued, kissing your cheek tenderly and trailing his lips down your jaw

“You wanna stop or go on? Hm?” his voice dropped lower still, as he continued peppering kisses on your neck.

Frank knew how he wanted to play with you, what he wanted to pull out of you.

“Go on…I wanna go on” You replied ,as if you had any choice, as if you could ignore the painful throbbing of your cunt, the mess in your panties.

“C’mere” He took your tied hands, leading you to the side of the couch, carefully bending you over the armrest.

“That feel ok?”

You managed only to reply with a breathless “mhm”

He chuckled at your desperate wiggles, continuing his unhurried strokes.

He took a moment to admire you, your bare top bent over on the sofa where he laid a cushion for you, sheer black tights stretching over your ass, revealing a pair of lace panties.

He stood behind you, finger gently tracing the lace beneath the nylon, leaving fire in its trail. Your breaths were heavier now, and a small whine escaped you as it torturously dragged between your asscheeks towards your pussy.

“Please, Frank” your voice shook.

“Please what baby?” He taunted

“Touch me, please” You begged now, desperate to ease the ache between your thighs.

He cupped you through the fabric, running his thumb on your clothed core, you were soaked.

“Like that? hm?”

Your breath was ragged, small whines escaped your mouth as you tried to rock your hips against his hand.

A string of little moans were your only response.

“More..” you finally added. His touch was deliberate, slow circles that did nothing more than drive you mad.

Gliding both palms towards your waist, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your tights, wiggling and dragging them down with your panties.

When the fabric slid past the curve of your ass he stopped, admiring the exposed skin, smooth and supple, the way that the elastic dug into the meat of your upper thighs, accentuating the plumpness.

Two thick digits slid between your thighs, you were dripping, and Frank relished at the squelching sound when he gently parted your folds and spread your juices. His touch was precise, feather light, and painfully slow.

His cock began to stir again.

His fingers glided over the expanse of the soft flesh, before repeating the slow, agonizing trail from your tailbone to your core, making you tremble.

“You hear that honey, how wet you are for me?”

You whimpered, as he moved at a snail’s pace, sliding from your entrance to your clit and back. The pressure increased slightly but the pace was just as slow.

“Fuhhh..fuck…me.” your attempt to speak nearly failed.

“You need to be fucked?” his voice was almost sympathetic.

“Ye..hh” you quivered.

“Like this honey?” He pumped one finger in and out, slowly, with an obscene squelch.

“Fuck..Please!” You sobbed softly

“Shhh..I know baby, I know…just a lil' more” He replied.

You mewled as he drew his fingers back and parted your cheeks, sliding his heavy length in between your thighs, rubbing against the slick puffy folds, making you drip and bringing you both to the brink.

You shook, tip-toes barely gripping the carpet, holding on for dear life.

You shuddered as he dipped his cock into your core,carefully stretching and filling you to the brim.

Fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme…

Tears stung your eyes as the throbbing in your cunt became unbearable. Every nerve ending screaming and begging for the emptiness to be filled. Your quiet little sobs filled the room and Frank finally decided to show you mercy.

The sting of it made you battle between the need to adjust to him and need to be fucked within the edge of your life.

He tutted “Don’t you move, you hear me?”

"Fuckin' tight" he cursed under his breath.

He set an unhurried pace and you moved your hips to meet his deep thrusts, once, twice, before a sharp swat landed on your right buttcheek.

“Uhu..” You would obey any instructions just to keep him going

He was tainting you, ruining you. He did not find it in himself to regret that. So he thrust deeper, fingers digging into the plush expanse of your ass, fucking himself into your dripping cunt.

“You gonna be good now. Take it like a good girl.”

He felt you clench at the words and he smirked to himself, thrusting deeper, addicted to the flutter of your pussy around him.

Shame trickled into his bloodstream again, it always did when it came to you. He let it flow, let it mix with his desire and need, let himself get drunk on it.

"You like it when I call you that? Hm? Like it when I fuck your little pussy and tell you what a good girl youre bein'?"

Your response was only a little whimper, but you clenched even harder, squeezing him tightly

"Answer me baby"

"I..fucking..love it"

Your climax built rapidly, the familiar coil in your belly growing tighter and tighter. Waves of pleasure coursed through your abdomen, shattering against your core, pushing you off the edge of the cliff. You wailed, walls fluttering around his girth, gripping him like a vice.

"There y'go baby..just like that.." Frank praised you through your high, pulling the remnants of your orgasm out of you as the waves gently subsided.

Your head was heavy and limbs numb, body melting until you couldn’t tell which part of you was solid and which was liquid.

“Shh…shhh s’ok babygirl” He stroked you, laying a gentle kiss on your back as the sound of your heavy breaths filled the room. He slowed down, barely moving his hips, before pulling out his length, still dripping with your arousal.

“Frank, I've never…umm” your voice is hoarse and breathy

Knowing you’d still be too sensitive, he dipped a cautious finger in, gathering your slick and smearing it up towards the cleft of your ass, massaging it into the tight rim. The sensation was foreign but pleasurable, as he spread your wetness, applying a little more pressure with every slick slide of his digit.

Entranced, still pulsating with your release, you began bucking your hips against his hand.

“S'ok baby, I’ll be nice n’ slow, just my finger”

Ever so slowly he began pushing the tip of his index past the tight ring, and the slight sting of it made you hiss.

“You wanna stop honey?”

“Uh-uh..no” you muttered. Slowly getting accustomed to the intrusion, rutting against him as he sank his digit down to it’s base.

When he was fully sheathed in, he lined his cock against your entrance, and pushed in with one smooth motion.

“uhh..fuuuuccckk” you moaned, impossibly full.

Frank was quiet now, entranced by the way your bodies were connected, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, the little whines and whimpers that came with every thrust into your tight heat.

He moved his cock and his finger in tandem, pacing himself as much as he could, cursing under his breath.

“Good girl… baby… lettin’ me fuck both your pretty holes” He slurred

The overstimulation subsided in moments, and you could feel the shot of arousal, sharp and unforgiving, travel from your ears to your core.

It burned, but only made you want more, willing to be fully used, consumed by him. You were reduced into a quivering mess, crying for him to go harder. He didn't stop you from moving this time, as you instinctively matched his pace, encouraging him deeper.

You were slumped on the pillow, breathless and boneless. He pulled out carefully, watching his release spill onto the bunched up fabric of your panties and tights, etching the depraved sight into his mind. It made him wish he could fuck you all over again.

His impeccable control was rapidly wavering and he began to speed up, his movements becoming rougher and sloppier, crashing his hips into your ass at a brutal pace. Your second orgasm came abruptly and tore an animalistic sound from your chest, pushing Frank over the edge. He spilled inside of you with a guttural moan, long and lowd. The waves of pleasure washing over him again and again as he pulsed inside of you, flooding you with warmth.

**********************

The moans and pleas were replaced by silence, it was a soft, almost pleasant one. Endorphins still buzzed in your bloodstream, and you tried to focus on them instead of the demons that lurked around the peripherals of your mind, awaiting their turn.

Frank’s chest rose and fell beneath you, his breaths deep and steady as sleep was claiming him. You tried closing your eyes, tried matching your breaths with his, but the weight of everything unsaid felt heavy on your chest, threatening to burst.

More questions, always more fucking questions, ones you felt would be so hard to answer even if you could ask them. You knew you’d be gone by morning, for months, and they’d be left unanswered.

When you finally decided to speak you hoped he’d already be asleep, as if whispering your confessions to yourself would help…

"I don't know what this is, what we are, but I'm gonna miss you" you mumbled, as quietly as possible, hoping to god he didn’t actually hear you.

"Gon' miss you too, baby” He replied in a hushed tone.

Shit.

Hours later, your eyes stung with lack of sleep. You kept drifting in and out of slumber throughout the night, unable to let yourself relax fully in his presence. You finally gave up as the dim light of dawn crept through the windows and carefully peeled back the comforter, climbing out of the warm bed.

Frank was snoring softly, laying on his belly, face smushed into the pillow he was grabbing. You laid a cautious hand on his back, running your fingers on the smooth expanse of his shoulder blades, the exposed skin cool to the touch.

FIN.

“Goodbye Frank” you whispered, closing the door behind you.

#frank castle #frank castle x female reader #frank castle angst #jon bernthal #jewish representation #jewish reader #x plus size reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #the punisher

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biscuits-of-bagend · 3 months

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DnDoc, Space Band #6 - The Greatest Band in the Universe

Part 1 Part 5

Previous story: DnDoc, Coming Home

I finished reading the Space Band book (this was based on the album originally) and it turns out the scene would be slightly different if I based it properly on the canon. But I think changing it would entail too many spoilers and since I genuinely recommend this book whether you have kids or just want to warm your inner child, I decided to leave it as is.

---

It had turned out that their early arrival was the main culprit for the quiet streets, rather than an epidemic of stardust overload. Eventually the standing area before the enormous, U-shaped stage had started to fill up - but with Rogue, Ruby and the Doctor safely ensconced right down the front. There was another barrier separating them from the stage, and the three of them waited patiently up against it as the anticipation started to buzz.

After he'd had the thought about The Earthlings' core demographic growing up, it had occurred to Rogue that maybe they'd have raised a new generation of child-fans and the three of them were going to be the only adults there. But luckily there were plenty of other adults, some in old and faded Earthlings t-shirts that didn't quite fit anymore but would work well enough for the sake of nostalgia. All things considered - the encounter with the sick person, the anxiety about the crowd, and the continually confusing hybrid stranger-boyfriend relationship he had with the Doctor - Rogue was actually feeling pretty excited as the sun went down and the music started up.

Rogue felt as old as the Doctor himself as the band walked on. Of course they weren't kids anymore. When Rogue had been little part of the appeal was that the three members of The Earthlings were also children. But they must now all have been at least forty, if not a little older. The three original members were all still there: George the bassist and lead singer, Neila on lead guitar and Bari "Bash" Bashar still bashing away on those drums, like he had been his whole life.

George looked out at them all, lapping up the screaming. Rogue himself didn't scream, but he did grin and clap like a child seeing sea-lion tricks for the first time. The whole band were wearing their signature orange space-suits with their name tags on the front and the Earthlings logo on the back, and George's hair was dyed a sort of silver-lilac colour and gelled straight upwards.

"Hey everyone," said George, which was greeted by another massive scream. "I don't suppose anyone knows… WHAT RHYMES WITH SAUSAGE?"

Half the crowd shouted "NOTHING" and the other half of the crowd just continued to scream incoherently. Rogue's hands flew involuntarily to his forehead as the moment hit him. He ran his hands through his hair, doing his best not to mess up the Doctor's carefully sculpted styling. How was this happening? How was he finally seeing The Earthlings live after all this time, and with the Doctor?

And then they were off, straight into one of their huge hits, 'Nothing Rhymes with Sausage.' Yeah, as an adult, the songs were kind of silly. But every time Rogue glanced at the Doctor or Ruby to see what they thought they seemed to be bopping happily along. The Doctor was in the middle, with his left arm around Ruby's shoulder and his right hand on Rogue's back. At one point the Doctor's hand ventured slightly downward into the back pocket of Rogue's jeans. Rogue raised one eyebrow but smiled indulgently at him. Childhood, teenage years, the approach of middle age, ancient millennia - it was all starting to blur together into a timey-wimey mish-mash.

But then Neila started playing the most wicked guitar solo, one that grabbed Rogue out of his daze. His memory zero-ed in on a very specific time in his life. He was fourteen, it was summer, and he was spending his holiday playing Shredmaster on his games console. It was different from other music-based video games. All the other games had instrument-shaped controllers and you had to press various buttons to simulate playing. With Shredmaster, you had to plug in a real guitar. Suddenly Rogue remembered the day he finally got one hundred per cent on expert mode for this song. He'd hundred per cented at least twenty Earthlings songs on guitar, he remembered, including some of the ones they'd already played.

Before he knew what it was doing, the fingers of his left hand had started retracing their steps over invisible frets. Neila caught sight of him and gave him a joyful smile. Her jaw dropped open as the guitar solo got more and more intense and Rogue still didn't miss a note. Then when they reached the climax Rogue tipped his air guitar upwards to the sky and wiggled an imaginary whammy bar, his heart soaring with the final C-note.

As the guitar part settled back into a steady rhythm, Rogue realised that the Doctor and Ruby had both turned to watch him instead of the band. So much for indulging himself in a bit of light air guitar in the mirror when they were looking the other way.

But then there was a screech of strings, and the steady rhythm stopped.

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Part 7

@off-traveling-in-the-stars @casavanse @monster-donut @letsargueacrossthestars (let me know at any point if you no longer wish to be tagged in each post)

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who rogue

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richardsgraysons · 10 months

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not sure if ure still doing the match thing but heres mine!

- i'm asian, about 5'3, dark eyes but my hair is usually coloured? so far i've done purple and silver highlights

- i have quite a few piercings on my ears and i'm looking to get more, as well as tattoos. i usually accessorize a lot

- i play and train in badminton, and people usually expect me to be an athlete but i was a band kid LMAO i only got into sports in my recent years

- i'm infj-t if that helps w anything. i recently started coming out of my shell a little bc of school, i'm usually friendlier towards girls than i am towards guys. i can keep convos going but i have a really short-lived social batt. i've been told i have a strong RBF

- i only have a few people in my circle i let myself be comfortable with (it takes a damn long time to get there). with them i'm honest (ill tell them when theyre the problem), playful, dish out advice if they want it, fiercely protective, empathetic but my patience can wear thin sometimes esp if i'm in a bad mood or they do smth stupid repeatedly in which i turn very sarcastic

- i insult my loved ones a lot but i make it clear its a joke, i just find it hard to say lovey dovey stuff like that but i do when the occasion needs it

- also i have a really bad dating history so i can be pretty damn avoidant when it comes to romance. also i've never dated a man before (only dated girls), they never made it past the talking stage so do w that what u will

DAMIAN WAYNE

you and damian are so similar in the way that you aren't very showing of your love. this man is also hella avoidant of romance so you best believe that you're gonna have a looongg slowburn before anything actually happens

damian would not be scared of your RBF, no matter how terrifying you look. this man was an assassin at like age 5, nothing except dick being sad scares him anymore

he'd also want someone more active, so he'd def appreciate you being more athletic than most. but we all know. he likes a well-rounded individual so being a bandkid def helps

TATTOOOS <33 op you're living my dream. damian would take his time to memorize each one. when he's bored, he'd just train the outline of his favorite tattoo so much that it's ingrained in his memory

honesty is always.the best policy for damian. in my personal opinion, out of all the batboys, damian appreciates honesty the most as his mommy did manipulate him for the first like eight years of his life

short social batt? no problem! so does damian. still working on his people skills, so it'll always be relaxing just to hang out with you at the end of every day

also damian does not do stupid shit so you'd best believe that you'll hardly get pissed at him (unless he does something stupid as the bat, and then then he'll need a verbal slap on the face)

#damian wayne #dc comics #damian al ghul

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wind-becomes-lightning · 2 years

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violet.

meow. this is .. some stuff for rin week. very emotional etc. i have feelings do not take me lightly! anyway.

thanks once again for @uchiharomance for always letting me borrow her baby girl.

lots of nohara hc's in this. ikigai AU

for @rinweek2022 Day 5: Facepaint

Though not unloved by her parents and living through a happy childhood, Haruka’s first memory was nonetheless of her cousin, at least the first memory he brain retained for her all her life.

The Nohara were not a big clan, rather a small family, known for extensive chakra knowledge and healing techniques. They often worked at the hospital or other such facilities, and generally were set out to become doctors. Not because they were forced to do it, but because they were really good at it.

Haruka was eight years younger than the other child in the family, Rin, who was already plenty accomplished when Haruka first remembers laying eyes on her. Rin had finished the academy early, as war times demanded, she had learned advanced healing way above other people her age and she was taught by the rumoured next hokage.

Accordingly, Haruka’s first memory was riding on the back of Rin, just the two of them walking through the streets of pre Kyuubi Konoha. Rin and her were mistaken so often for siblings as their hair and their eye colour matched almost perfectly. Haruka loved when people wondered if they were sisters, so she called Rin “sister.”

Rin was everything to Haruka. There was nobody that compared to how beautiful and smart and wonderful and kind Rin was. Like her personal superstar, Haruka would waddle behind Rin at any family opportunity, throw her little hands over Rin’s arm or shoulder to press herself against her cousin. It was the closest Haruka had to a sibling and a goal and a person to admire.

Despite seeing it on everyone around her, Haruka was especially fascinated with the facial paint that Rin wore on her cheeks every day. The Nohara did not have a clan symbol that they proudly wore on clothing like the Senju or Uchiha did, they marked their status as healers by marking their faces in bright colours. A practice that went back to early warring times, to show that they had no allegiance. Rin wore her stripes in violet, a deep colour that complimented her brown hair and eyes so well that Haruka, who herself had brown hair , though a little lighter, wanted nothing more than to have them too.

“Nee-san”, Haruka whined one day, pulling Rin by the sleeve, “Can I make my face like nee-san?” Rin had only come over to drop off an antidote she had worked on in between missions. Lately she had been absent, her face fallen into herself with deep grief that Haruka only understood when she was older. Rin’s friend had gone away, they had told her. He wasn’t coming back.

She wanted to cheer up her cousin. Make her laugh, but no matter how much she babbled about school and chakra training and her mom's baking, Rin’s smile never returned to the way it had been before. It had, by proxy, made Haruka very sad.

“Hm?” Rin asked and then crouched so she could be on Haruka’s height. “What do you mean with that, sweetie?”

Haruka brushed with a thumb over her cheeks. They had a bright orange colour currently. “I want to have stripes like nee-san. I want to look like nee-san, because she is the prettiest girl in the entire village.”

Rin shook her head: “No, that would be you.” She leaned forward and pinched Haruka’s nose. “But, I can paint your face if you want.” The little girl beamed and then rushed to get her face washed.

They had to go to a house down where Rin’s room was to actually get her usual paint, as she wasn’t carrying it around with her. Haruka held her cousin's hand the entire way even though she would have probably been old enough to walk by herself, but she liked holding Rin’s hand, it reminded her of when she had been small and Rin had taken her out to play, to learn how to throw, to see the forests around the village. Always hand in hand.

Later Haruka would always remember how Rin’s room looked that day when she entered. How most of her pictures on the walls were turned around so you couldn��t see what was on them. How that clearly indicated the pain she was going through. But she was too young and innocent then to understand.

Rin picked a little plastic box from a shelf and sat down with crossed legs in front of Haruka, inviting her to sit down too. “I assume Auntie told you that this paint is not like regular paint. It is more sturdy, does not wipe with water too easily, and though it can be wiped away needs a strong stroke to do so.” She dove her fingers in the paint. “I chose violet as my colour, because it stands for ambition and creativity, but it also stands for peace, which I wish for us above everything else.”

She paused for a moment, her fingers half in the air between the plastic box and Haruka’s face. Then she continued. “You can choose whichever colour you like of course, as long as it is something that keeps you apart from others.” Haruka could feel Rin’s fingers on her cheek, softly, but skilled moving down and painting in the stripes with an accuracy that showed how often she had done it before.

Haruka kept her eyes fixed on Rin’s face, on the way her eyes focused on the task, the shine in them, the way her smile seemed so weak, as if she hadn’t done it for a while. She went over every inch of her cousin’s face and etched it into her brain this way, which later turned out to be a gift.

“All done!” Rin said with a smile and then pulled a mirror out from behind her holding it in front of Haruka’s face.

The little girl felt her mouth opening to a silent “oh” as she took in her mirror image. “I look like nee-san!” She looked up at Rin and her heart fluttered in excitement.

“Oh -I’m.. Sorry?” Rin didn’t seem to know what to reply to that. She leaned back against her flat hands. “You asked me to-”

Haruka almost dropped the mirror because she was jumping to her feet so quickly. “I love it so much. I love looking like nee-san. I want to be like you. I want to be strong and smart and beautiful and talented and make antidotes for poisons when I am 14.” She leapt forward into Rin’s arms and pressed her head against her chest like she had done so many times before.

“I’m never, never, never taking it off.” Haruka declared.

“That would be very unsanitary, Auntie would never allow it,” Rin laughed. At first Haruka didn’t think much of it, but then she realised how long it had been since she had heard Rin laugh like that and she pressed herself even closer to her cousin.

With her fingers she picked up the mirror again. “I will also be purple!” she declared. “We will look like actual sisters.”

Rin went with her hand through Haruka’s hair, her eyes a little blurry. “I would like that,” she said finally. “But promise me you will at least cycle through a few more colours. Just to see how you feel.”

Haruka gave a thumbs up back: “I promise.”

But she never did.

When Haruka painted her face again it was to visit a funeral and she chose violet, because while people told her that Rin had died and was now far away, she lingered around.

Rin lingered each morning Haruka painted her face, the same box of plastic with the same sturdy colour, the same dark brown eyes and brown hair. Haruka saw her every morning in the mirror.

Rin was there with Haruka when Haruka decided to be adventurous, foolish, break the rules and play with her own safety to help someone that maybe did not deserve help. Rin didn’t judge, they were healers, Haruka was healing people.

Rin was there when Haruka painted her own child’s cheeks violet for the first time, when she held her daughter up, looked in those brown eyes that were so like theirs and said that her name would be Rin, like the sister she had loved and lost.

#fanfiction things #oc: haruka #rin week 2022 #nohara rin #au: ikigai

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sugareey-makes-stuff · 2 years

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I posted 3,365 times in 2022

That's 2,962 more posts than 2021!

105 posts created (3%)

3,260 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@akindplace

@danpuff-ao3

@crazybutgood

@awesomedig

@veelawings

I tagged 2,315 of my posts in 2022

Only 31% of my posts had no tags

#hp fanart - 451 posts

#drarry - 439 posts

#hp fanfic - 324 posts

#art rec - 318 posts

#signal boost - 296 posts

#yesss i love this - 232 posts

#hp fests - 222 posts

#harry potter - 218 posts

#draco malfoy - 184 posts

#drarry fanart - 171 posts

Longest Tag: 39 characters

#and it shouldn't always have to be free

My Top Posts in 2022:

I’ve got one more character portrait I wanted to get out of my system before I need to work on other projects, so here’s Derek for ya! I honestly wasn’t sure how Sourwolf was going to turn out, but he actually exceeded my expectations. He was thankfully easier to draw than I thought he would be (the grumpy characters I do draw are hard AF to get right), so he was a breath of fresh air. I could definitely get used to drawing him more (and maybe doing some really cool things with his eyes). Also, swooning over that facial hair and the shadows, and this general colour palette was really great to work with. You can view Derek as part of the work Snapshots of Time on AO3. Thinking about maybe working on Scott or Lydia next, but we’ll see!

191 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

What were the words that you said to me that made me feel so special now? Here’s my @sterekweek-2022 contribution for the “Sing Me A Song” prompt! This art piece went in its own direction, and I just followed the path it took me. Lyrics are based on Finch’s song, “Stay With Me.” You can also view Makes Me Feel Alive on AO3. Folks who are familiar with my work know I live for anything inspired by songs and lyrics, so I obviously had to see what I could come up with for Sterek. Thankfully, I have a gazillion songs and lyrics that work so well for them! :D Drawing an almost kiss scene was fun since there’s something raw and emotional about this moment Derek and Stiles are about to share. I loved drawing Derek’s leather jacket, and Stiles’ plaid button-ups have been teaching me new ways to work with patterns and simple clothing. And the way the mixed media spread ended up really embraces the October and spooky feels. I may have another Sterek surprise for ya for Halloween, so stay tuned!

194 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

Welp! I’ve been sitting on this for quite a while, but I can now scream and squee about the gorgeous Perciver art @rxbbits made me for Where do we go from here? !! This very art piece inspired me to finish There’s a guiding light (on AO3) Since that fic deserved a follow-up and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write something inspired by this beautiful art, I just posted a ficlet that links to both of these pieces. Title: I’m always by your side (<- on AO3) Rating: General/Teen WC: 1.5k Tags: The Burrow, Post-War, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Honesty, Patronuses, Fluff and Angst, Reassurances, Conversations, Summer, Angst with a Happy Ending, Doubt, Memories, Oliver Wood-centric Summary: In this moment, they existed. In this moment, they could truly appreciate each other’s company as the sun went down. [Or: Oliver and Percy have an honest conversation for the first time in ages and find comfort when two silver guardians make appearances again.] The ficlet uses @wood-you-rather-challenge prompts On the count of three, travel and Everything that kills me makes me feel alive and rarepair_shorts Rare Pairings Challenge 2022 prompts the Burrow and second chances. ANYWAY, my gods, I love the art that goes with this so much. I can stare at it all day because it reminds me why I love these two. They’re soooo precious!! Eeep! XD A BIG thank you to Matteo for listening to all of my ideas, talking all things Perciver with me and making this piece truly come to life. Make sure to check some of Matteo’s other Perciver art pieces or support his work! <333

268 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

Well, it looks like I can finally share this, after not being able to say anything for...I don’t know for how long?! Anyway, here’s what I made for @hd-wireless this year, which is my first Drarry fest piece of the year so far! Drarry has been with me through and through for a long time, and if you were to look at my Drarry playlist, Three Days Grace’s “I Hate Everything About You” is 10000% in there. I’ve loved this song for ages, and it sums up Harry and Draco’s relationship so well, it’s not even funny. I am so glad @sunflower-swan prompted this song so I could snatch it right up! More rambling about how I came up with this piece are in my notes. Cheers, and I hope you enjoy! Title: Every Feeling That I Get (<-see the full work on AO3) Rating: Teen Medium: Digital art Content and Tags: Mirrors, Hands, Love/Hate, Sectumsempra , Fiendfyre, Getting Together, Snogging, UST, Shirtless, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Feelings Realization, Memories, Post-War, Growing Up, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Enemies to Lovers Summary: The events from their malicious past somehow bring Harry and Draco together in a new way.

272 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Since it’s spooky season, this has a perfect time to delve deeper into more Teen Wolf and lore. So far, it’s been really fun to geek out over monsters, mythology and all things supernatural again. To do that (for a fandom that’s still newish to me) has helped me loosen up my expectations, look forward to trying new things, and I’ve been slowly getting back on track to finish up current art and fic WIPs. I guess this was the breath of fresh air I needed get out of that corner of roadblocks and feeling stuck. It seems to be working! I’m still getting my feet wet with Sterek (a ship I didn’t know I needed and one I adore sooo much). So, here’s a little something for @averysterekfall! I may have let this one run away, since there’s art AND a triple drabble that go together. :D If you like Teen Wolf and Supernatural references/crossovers, this might be your cuppa. Cheers and enjoy! Title: It’s Enough For Now (<- on AO3) Rating: G WC: 300 (w/ art) Tags: Autumn, Blankets, Comfort, Huddling For Warmth, Feelings Realization, Uncertainty, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Episode: s01e11 Scarecrow (Supernatural), POV Stiles Stilinski, Monster of the Week, Exhaustion, Pagan Gods, Mixed Media, Digital Art, Triple Drabble Summary: “You know, I could get another blanket,” Stiles points out, breaking the silence. “Or let me grab my hoodie from the couch—” “It’s fine,” Derek interjects in a low voice. He tugs the blanket gently, pulling Stiles closer. “Stiles…” [Or, Stiles and Derek end up sharing a blanket after coming back from the pack's latest supernatural adventure.]

314 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #sugareey #showcasing my fav ships #basically art

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rikasfundingassociates · 1 year

Text

[New Recording] The Hacker

This interview originally took place on May 14th, 2023.

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With a buzz of your mobile device, a new tab opens up without any prompting! A black screen fills your monitor, and a lime green cursor taps out the lines:

> HACKER.VIDEOCALL()

> LOADING...

A laptop-style webcam flicks on, and you see a tuft of ginger hair fill the frame of the screen, half-obscuring the various game posters and glow in the dark decals that decorate the room the video is capturing. Behind the gaming chair propped in front of the camera, you see a messy apartment bedroom with a half-ajar bathroom door in the far corner, an electric keyboard pushed against the back wall, stacks of speakers and electronic equipment, and two food bowls by the door.

The redhead who seemed to be fiddling with the computer out of view finally leans back in her chair, humming to herself contentedly before fixating her eyes on the red light of the webcam. At that, she perks up immediately.

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[HACKER]: "Riiiight- I should introduce myself! Master hacker Cady MacNider at your service!"

hi!! how’ve you been ‘ ‘

CADY: "Today??? Pretty damn good, I'll say so myself! Just put the finishing touches on the new maintenance update !!"

best question ever: What colour is an orange :)

"Uhhhh pretty sure you asked the question wrong, duderino. Orange! That's, like, the easiest answer I've ever given ever!"

Favourite Pokémon??

"Snorlax... I vibe with him on a personal level ..!"

HELLO CADY!! How do you pass the time? :smile:

"Well now you just wan' me to talk about myself, dontcha? I do a lot of coding, but I also 'ave a penchant for gaming, playing with Kirby, and making music when I got the chance!"

hello cady :) what are your computer specs :smooch:

"I've got this baby loaded up with all the fancy shmancy stuff--! High power graphics card, processor, the whole shebang !!"

As she says that, she gives the PC a good ol' smack. Bang bang!

"It's like my child... or the closest I can get to my own flesh an' blood!"

HI CADY!! when we were talking to cayden there was this big ufo behind him but he didnt notice it. did it take him or is he still alive??

She takes off her headphones and gives a solemn shake of her head.

"We miss him every day..."

Favorite drink ever ?(Cady is such a cute name oml)

"Dr. Pepper all the way! Only the best gamer fuel for a high-maintenance machine like myself !!" :3

Are you sure its orange

"Is it? I mean, I don't eat much fruit, but I'm preeettyyyy sure..."

hey cady, i heard somewhere that if you add 10 to your age and then substract 5 and then another 5 you get your age, but i cant wrap my head around this. could you help me with an example with your age, pretty please? begging? please?

"I'd be chuffed to help! Okay okay okay so if you take 22 and add 10 that's 32 minus 5 that's 17.. then add 5 that's 22! You were right!!!" :D

What was the first video game you ever played?

"Oooohhh, you're takin' me back down memory lane! Methinks it was prob-ly Wii Sports Resort, honestly...

I was cracked with the tennis racket :3."

Hi Cady!! What’s the craziest hack you’ve managed to pull off?

She taps her chin. "Well, there was that one time I managed to leak the FBI flight watchlist..."

"Jokes! I joke! I actually don't do much fancy hacking, ashully. 'm more of a white hat hacker!"

If we're allowed multiple questions: favourite song to play on just dance?

"Bangarang duh dununah BRANG WOO-WOO DUNUNUN--"

Insert a poorly executed attempt to mimic rave synths.

favourite mii game?

"I've always liked the bowling one.. you just need the right flick of the wrist and it's an auto-strike every time! Just gotta game th' system !!"

Did you ever play the swordplay or airplane games on Wii sports resort?

"When they did the anime transformation poses when the people linked up with each other I peaked in life."

Cady what.

"But I never was able to get good at the sword one, sadly... It's all about spamming and my poor fingies can't take that..."

Any favourite cat breeds ? :)

At that, she takes a deep inhale. "Okay so first of all I gotta give a shoutout to the longhairs, they're sososo fluffy but ALSO Maine Coons are soooo cute--" Quick break to catch her breath.

"But of course, whatever breed Kirby is is the one I love the most !!! (She has no idea what breed he is.)"

Do u think ur a lover or a fighter (:<

"Hmmmm... I mean of cours' I'm a lover! I love my friends and everyone else... how could I not be !!! I'm just sooo lovable..."

"Unless someone hurts the people I care 'bout-- then we're gonna have a problem!!!" She throws some air punches.

Do you have a favourite soup?

"Uhhhhh soup flavor?? Give me a sec, I don't 'ave these things memorized... oh! Tomato bisque... that's one of 'em right?"

Is it true that all fast food restaurants have been secretly taken over by the people who fooled everyone that oranges are orange?

"WHAT !!!! Not... not that I know of????" :WBAT:

whats a story that happened to you that sounds like something you'd see on r/thathappened, despite being very real?

"Oh!!!! Oh oh oh! I've got the PERFECT story for y' folks!"

"So, according to my ma' when I was a mere babe... my nametag got switch'd up with another kid's and the wrong parents ended up taking me home !!! Crazy, right? In the end though, I raised up such a fuss and made their lives so miserable they ended up coming back because they knew they hadn't created this hellspawn! ... and I'm glad they did, because my old folks actually knew how to raise said hellspawn!!" Double finger guns !!

Im telling u dude its 100% truth!!!

"I don't believe you, I'm sorryyy!!! You gotta show me somethin' concrete, some proof! Scientific method and all of that!"

What's your favorite color combo?

"Lime green and purple !! Don't think I have any clothes that aren't in either of those colors..."

SEE!!

You just gotta get rid of the orange wax!!! Yk like what they put on supermarket apples

There are no words for a moment. ".... YOU JUST PEEL THE ORANGE OFF????" She totally believes you.

"I need to lie down..."

What is your vehicle of choice? :smilee:

"Well... Shiko says I shouldn't be trusted around a car, so my handy dandy bicycle is the next best thing !!"

What do you do when you're not hacking?

"Everyone's gotta have a healthy work-life balance, y'know? Unless you work at Marium Corp, I guess..."

"I take break days to spend over 10 hours playing video games, touching grass, and maybe even renting a movie!! Sure, there are more break days than regular days, but I didn't say it was a GOOD work-life balance..."

did you know that if you peel an orange with a nokia you have a 0.00008% to get a shiny orange?

"Like a rare collectible orange !!! What !! " There are stars in her eyes. "You've piqued my interest, magic man!"

If you dip the true form of an orange into lemon juice, it turns purple! Like the butterfly pea tea (?) !!

"THE BUTTERFLY PEA WHAT ?!?!?!?!?"

legend says.............. opening it with a wii remote has the low low low rate of getting a :THISMAN: orange :scream: :scream: :scream: :scream: :scream: :scream: :scream: :scream:

"That's so coollll ! I gotta try that out--

... Hold on where did you get that picture of Val--?!"

The blood orange must be sacrificed!! Dont forget that part!

"Got it, boss !!!" She salutes.

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CADY: [The hacker quickly glances up above the screen, widening her eyes slightly before stretching her arms above her head.]

"Well, think that's all the time I have to talk... gotta push this update out to the others!! They're gonna be so impressed! ... was nice meeting you all, see ya 'round!"

[Cady beams at the screen and waves to you, before closing the call.]

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Transcript provided by [UNKNOWN]. WLMG BLF DZMG GL VHXZKV UILN GSRH UROGSB DLIOW?

#kgrp #teaser

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catsafarithewriter · 4 years

Note

"I want to say it was worth it. For a while, it was" Haru/Baron please?

A/N: Oooh, I loved using this prompt! This is a fairytale AU based on Rumpelstiltskin with some… unexpected character casting. The writing style is gently fairytale-esque, and I enjoyed this so much I finished this in a day! Enjoy!

Spinning straw into gold was impossible; everyone knew that.

Everyone, it seemed, but her father and the King. But that was enough.

Haru Yoshioka had never been one for tears, but she decided the universe wouldn’t judge her too harshly for shedding a few in the face of her impending death. After all, who was there to see? If a poor peasant woman cried in a locked tower and no one was around to hear her, did her sobs make a sound?

“Fair maiden, fair maiden,” called a voice from the rafters. “Why do you weep so?”

Haru’s tears came to an abrupt halt. The voice was well-spoken, like that of an old-fashioned noble or royalty; definitely not one of the guards. Also, guards didn’t tend to linger in the rafters. Neither did nobility or royalty, but she could only worry about one thing at a time. She gave one last snivel for good measure and glared up at the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that it’s ill-mannered to listen in on a lady’s distress.” She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with her sleeve. “Let a lady die in peace.”

“Die?” A shadow leapt down from above, and Haru was greeted with the form of a small ginger cat. “I have heard of many ways to die, but over-exposure to hay is a new one to me.”

Haru chuckled, and a little of her usual good temper returned. “You have a sense of humour, cat. I would appreciate it if it could keep me company until the sun rises.”

“And after the dawn?”

“After the dawn you will need to find a new friend, for this one shall be gone.”

The cat placed both paws onto her knees, and emerald-green eyes stared into hers. “Oh now, fair maiden, that shall not be.”

“You have little choice.” Haru waved a hand across the crowded room. “I am but a miller’s daughter, but my father laid claim that I could spin straw into gold, and when the King heard he locked me up in here and told me I must turn all this to gold by sunrise or be put to death.”

“Your king would kill you for that?”

“Apparently. So you see, cat, I have not long for this world unless you can spin straw into gold.”

“But of course. Did I not make that clear? I am a magic cat.” He rose onto his back paws and stood in a manner most human. “And, as a magic cat, I cannot leave such a fetching young lady to such a dire fate.”

Haru’s heart leapt. A fae cat! But then she remembered the tales of being indebted to the fair folk, and quickly removed the ring from her hand. “Please, take this as payment for your help.”

“I take no payment.”

“Please. It isn’t much, but it was my mother’s wedding ring. Is it enough for your kindness?”

The cat took the ring, and in return Haru was rewarded with a strange look. “It is enough for my kindness,” he said, and moved to the spinning wheel, whereupon it whirred into life. The straw spun through the wheel, round and round, until the bobbin was full of gold and he had to replace with another, and another, and on it went till morning and all the straw was gone. And all the while, he kept her company.

When all was done, the cat bowed and vanished.

With the rising sun, the King arrived, and he was both delighted and amazed by the room of gold he now possessed.

His advisors were… less so. Haru saw the stilted looks they exchanged with one another, all too aware – even if their monarch was not – that such feats were beyond the scope of mortal folk.

Still, the King wanted more, and so the following night he locked the miller’s daughter in a second room filled with straw, larger than the first, and uttered the same ultimatum.

This time she didn’t weep, but called out for her previous companion.

“Fair maiden, fair maiden,” the cat greeted, bowing. “Why do you call me so?”

“The King has once again demanded that I spin gold for him and has threatened to kill me if I fail,” she said. She loosened the ribbon in her hair, the ribbon she had specifically brought tonight. “All I have is this ribbon. It isn’t much, but it is the last gift my mother gave me before she passed. Is it enough for your kindness?”

Again, that strange look.

“It is enough for my kindness,” he answered, and began to spin.

Again, the straw was gold by dawn, and again Haru swapped companions from cat to King with the rising sun. She didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up at the shimmering room, nor did she miss the whispered rumours from the advisors. Once, the transformation may have been a trick; twice, and it became witchcraft.

“Three times, and you shall prove your worth,” the King told her. “Why, with a wife such as you, our kingdom would be rich.”

“Wife?” echoed Haru.

“Wife?” echoed the advisors.

“Naturally,” the King said, and led her to a yet larger room filled with straw. “If you spin all this gold by the next sunrise, I shall make you my queen. But if you fail, you shall die.”

And thus, when the cat came that evening, he found the miller’s daughter in tears once more.

“Fair maiden, fair maiden,” he said. “Why do you weep so?”

“I weep because the King desires to make me his wife if I succeed tonight.”

“Why so sad? Surely it is the wish of anyone to rise to such rank.”

“Oh, cat, you do not know me at all if you think that,” Haru wept. “If he marries me, he shall expect this every night, and I shall spend the rest of my life under threat of death. He does not love me; he only loves the gold which you spin.”

Her face buried in her hands, she could not see but she was sure she felt gloved fingers gently brush the hair from her face. “Oh, fair maiden,” the cat’s voice murmured, “I know you too well to let you suffer such a fate. Just trust me a moment longer, and all shall be well.”

She raised her head, but the cat was definitely still just a cat. Even so, the phantom touch of tender fingers lingered on her skin. “Cat, you have been such a good friend to me these last two nights; I want to say it was worth it. For a while, it was. But do not spin the straw this final night. In all the chaos, I have forgotten to bring anything to thank you for your kindness.”

“I need not take anything now,” he said. “You may owe me, if it is enough for my kindness.”

Haru faltered. To be indebted to the fae folk… perhaps would be no worse than being married off to a gold-hungry king. Perhaps she could pay him back in precious gems or trinkets from the royal treasury, if he would accept such baubles when he could create gold at a touch.

“It is enough,” she whispered.

“Then the deal is made,” he said, and he set to spinning.

True to his word, the room was filled with gold by daybreak and, true to his word, the King made immediate preparations for the upcoming wedding upon seeing her success.

“Wife,” the King called her.

“Queen,” the peasants said.

“Witch,” the advisors muttered. “Alchemist. Fae.” She heard their murmured accusations, however quietly they said them, and knew the words would spread. A queen who makes deals with the devil, they asked, what kind of queen is that? And she couldn’t help but agree, although she could not have said which was the devil in her dealing.

Still, she found herself suitably adorned and embellished; a bride fit for a king. The gold the cat had spun was woven into her dress, and the ensuing result left her more gold than girl by the time the tailors were finished. The ladies-in-waiting perfected her face with powder and if they had to add a little more than usual to hide the red-rimmed tearful eyes, then no one commented.

Still, everyone could be heard to agree as she stood alongside the King, she was a suitable bride. Everyone agreed.

Almost.

“Fair maiden, fair maiden,” called a familiar voice. “Why do you marry so?”

And where the priest should have been stood the cat. But not the cat Haru recalled. This one was taller, human in height and dressed in a suit, fitted with a top hat and cane. But still. Haru recognised him, however altered he was, as the same cat who had helped her three times prior.

“A demon!” snarled the King, and stepped back.

“Yes,” the cat said, before Haru could correct him, “A demon.” He approached them, and swept his hat off in a low bow. “I would love to give my congratulations to the happy couple, but I’m afraid there’s been some confusion. You see, the miller’s daughter still owes me a debt, and I wish to collect.”

“Collect?” Haru echoed. “Collect what?”

The cat rose from his bow, and his smile was wane. “You, Miss Miller-maid. Three nights’ worth of gold is a fine price for a bride, I’d say.”

The King bustled, but did not step between Haru and the cat. “You cannot buy her,” he snapped.

“Why not?” the cat asked. “You did.” He returned his gaze to Haru and held out a hand. “Miss Miller-maid, I’m waiting.”

She felt herself shivering, and belatedly recognised it as rage. “Not like this,” she whispered. “I will not trade one cage for another. Cat, if you ever held any affection for me in your heart, do not do this.”

His eyes sparkled, and Haru had the strangest sensation she had given the correct answer. “Very well; we shall turn this into a game, then. I will give you three days with three guesses each, one for each night’s service rendered, for you to win back your debt. All you have to do is call me by my name.” He smiled. “Do that, and you will be forever free of me.”

The first day dawned with the release of messengers, sent across the land by the King. Their task was simple, but perhaps impossible: find the name of the cat demon.

Haru, the prize, was left guarded in her new room – “In case that demon comes to collect early,” the King had said, although she doubted a few soldiers would stop a fairy. She would be given the array of hopeful names, and select the three to offer that day.

“Fair maiden, fair maiden, how grand your cage is now. Why, ‘tis fit for a queen.”

Haru didn’t turn to the voice. “I ought to throw you out of this window for that foul trickery you did me, cat.”

“I did nothing you did not agree to.”

“You could have asked for anything,” she retorted. “So why choose that?” She felt her eyes water with angry tears, and she turned and slammed both fists into his chest. “How dare you ask that of me! I thought you were my friend!”

“And I am. I always will be.” He gently pried her hands off him. “Fair maiden, look at me.”

“I’d rather not,” she muttered into his waistcoat.

“As you wish. But whatever form I take, whether talking cat or demonic beast, I am clearly not of this world, and there are certain ways things must be done for my magic to help anyone. It must be balanced. Equal. If I spirit you away from this unwanted marriage, it will only place you further in debt. And you are running out of precious things worth a fairy’s debt.”

“There are jewels in the treasury–”

The cat laughed. “Jewels? Do you think you can pay off a fairy debt with shiny rocks? No. I accepted your offers because they were important to you – your mother’s ring, her final gift to you – not because they carried any monetary value.” He tentatively brushed her hair from her tear-stained eyes. “Eventually, the debt finds its own payment and I fear the price, if left unchecked, will be too rich for you.” His touch was gentle. “It may be the colour of your hair, or the sight from your left eye, all or all your memories from before you turned five.”

“But you think my freedom isn’t too rich?” she muttered.

“Who said anything about freedom?”

“But you said–”

“That I came to collect you, Miss Miller-maid, but the debt cares little for what I do after it is paid. If I decide to buy a caged bird only to set it free, that is none of the concern of the seller.”

“You’re… you’re telling the truth?”

“I cannot lie,” he said, and slipped a familiar ring onto her right hand. “However, if you choose to stay, then you will need this. This ring is now enchanted. Wear it, and you will be able to spin straw into gold as well as I can. Consider it part of the debt I’m collecting.”

Haru’s fingers flew to her mother’s wedding ring. “Why do this? Why help me?”

“That’s simple. It’s because you are my friend, fair maiden.”

“Haru,” she said, and abruptly felt foolish. Giving her name away to a fae? The only thing more foolish would be to put oneself into unspecified debt to a fae… oh, wait.

But the smile he gave was only kind, not conniving. “Then you may call me Baron. It is as much of a name as any.”

“Is it–”

“No, it is not my true name, although I did go by that title once.” He grinned. “Do you think I’d make it that easy?”

“Is your name Pendragon?”

“No.”

“Fujimoto?”

“No.”

“Suliman?”

“No.”

The second day came, and Haru found the cat – Baron – once again at her door.

“Fair maiden, fair maiden, how grand your cage is now. Why, ‘tis fit for a queen.”

She smiled, despite herself. “Then it is too grand for me.”

“We shall have to remedy that then,” he replied, and he swung the door open behind him to reveal an empty corridor.

“Baron, I can’t leave here – everyone will recognise me, and I can’t just run–”

“We’re not running. We’re going for a walk,” he said, and drew close. His gloved hands worked through her hair and tied a familiar-looking ribbon into her locks. “This ribbon is now enchanted. Wear it, and no one but you do not want to will recognise you. Consider it part of the debt I’m collecting.”

She tenderly touched the favoured ribbon. “What do you mean they won’t recognise me? Do I look different? Is it a disguise?”

“It’s only a disguise as far as their minds go,” he answered. “People will see you, but they will not realise they see their future-queen.” He smiled. “If you decide to leave the King, it will enable you to live an unencumbered life, free from the risk of royal recognition.”

She wished to thank him, but knew that thanking for fairy gifts was unwise. At the very least, the gift might lose its power; at worst, it might retaliate back at her. So she could only smile, but she felt Baron see the gratitude. Then she hesitated. “Baron, the… guards. You didn’t–”

“Fear not, there are no unfortunate soldiers masquerading as mice. I simply took good note of their shifts and schedule and planned accordingly. As long as we are out of this door in the next five minutes, no one will be any the wiser.” He winked. “Let’s stretch those wings, fair maiden.”

And so she let him lead her through the maze of palace corridors and stairways, and she found that neither of them warned more than a passing glance. She fiddled with her ribbon, awed by its newfound properties. “Tell me, Baron,” she said as they stepped out into the royal gardens, “so you have a similar spell affecting you? For no one seems to mark you.”

He tapped the polka-dotted tie around his neck. “Indeed. With this, everyone merely thinks how strange it is to see a cat demon, and moves on. It has become a valid tool in many a situation. But now it is my turn to inquire. Before all this started, you were a miller’s daughter. If you do leave, what would you wish to do with your life?”

Haru faltered. No one had ever asked her that before – not in any meaningful way, anyway. “I suppose,” she said, “if I could choose, I would wish to travel. Travel, and then settle down as a seamstress, like my mother.”

“Just that?” Baron asked, although he sounded… pleased, if anything. “No riches or power?”

“I’ve seen how people live with excess riches and power,” she answered. “I only want enough riches that I can eat and live, and enough power than I can be free. I have no need for anything more.” She looked to him. “And what of you?”

“What of me?”

“Did you always wish to be… this?”

He looked at her then, and she wondered if, similarly, no one had ever seen fit to ask him either. “I suppose,” he echoed, “if I could choose, I would wish to run a teashop.”

Haru had to resist a laugh. She did smile. “Just that?”

“Just that. I used to make tea for my sister, Louise, and she loved all the blends I would create.” He smiled at the fond memory. “If I were to run a teashop, it would be a local affair, located in a quiet little village with a quiet little village green and rolling hills over the horizon, and annual fairs. People would come from the neighbouring villages to meet up and talk, and when they wonder where they should sup, they would go, ‘but of course, to Baron’s teashop.’”

Haru leant over to him. “So why don’t you?”

He only smiled. “Such a simple life is unsuited to one of my kind.”

“Is your name Toto?”

“No.”

“Teto?”

“No.”

“Yakul?”

No.”

“Why create the game?” Haru asked on the morn of the final day. “Why ask me to guess your name and drag this three days longer if you could have just spirited me away now?”

“That’s simple,” Baron replied. “You deserved to have the right to choose.”

“It is barely a choice. That would imply that the decision is difficult in the making. Anyway,” she added, a smidgen indignant, “how is it a choice when we both know I don’t have a chance of guessing your name?”

“You have the ring and the ribbon,” he said. “Between them, they give you the ability to either live safely in the palace, weaving away, or escape to a quiet, modest life; neither require me anymore. As for the matter of my name,” he said, and gently placed a handkerchief in her hands, “you already have all you need to know that.”

She glanced to the silken material. “Is this another of those ‘consider this part of the debt I’m collecting’ things?” she asked.

“Something like that.”

“What does it do?”

He chuckled and tucked a stray hair back from her face. “It dries eyes, no more, no less. Consider it my promise to you to never make you cry again.”

Immediately, her eyes began to water. She hid them behind the handkerchief, laughing and crying simultaneously and failing to successfully conceal either.

“Haru, I just said–” Baron started, alarmed.

“No crying, I know,” she laughed. “Relax, these are happy tears. Still…” she said, “Why me? Why go to all this trouble for me?”

Baron softly drew her hands away from her face. “Do you think it was pure coincidence I met you that first night? I heard tales of a miller’s daughter whose father’s outrageous claims had lined her up for death. And so I came to help.” He smiled. “I had planned to move on after I had secured your freedom, but the thought of being without you leaves me quite lonely. It has occurred to me that I may be in want of a companion.” He drew away. “But, it’s your choice. It must always be your choice.”

It was a strange item, really, to receive.

Haru turned the handkerchief over in her hands and pondered. Baron had said it retained no power, no unseen enchantment nor spell, and yet it seemed at odds with the other gifts he had bestowed. It didn’t carry the same emotional weight that her ribbon or ring had borne, and yet he had chosen to bequeath such a thing on the day of her final guesses.

She would have been content to leave it at that, until it caught the light and through the silk she saw the remnants of a faded pattern.

A coat of arms.

And after that, it all slotted into place.

His title of baron narrowed it to the lower rankings of nobility.

The coat of arms to a single family.

The sister Louise to a handful of individuals.

And there was only one name that had vanished under mysterious circumstances.

Haru sat beside the King, the parchment of chosen names spread out before her, but none of the offerings matched the name she knew to be true. She chose one at random.

“Is your name Totoro?”

He smiled, and she wondered if he knew of her newfound knowledge.

“No.”

It was ridiculous. Crazy. Irrational. To trust someone steeped so deep in fairy magic was to be a fool, and a short-lived one at that.

Or so the stories went.

“Is your name Moro?”

“No.”

Ridiculous. Crazy. Irrational.

She tried to remind herself of that.

And yet, he had been her one friend through all this.

“Is your name…”

Humbert von Gikkingen?

She hesitated. She thought of rooms filled with spun gold, and reckless boasts, and greedy kings, and ribbons and rings and handkerchiefs with family coat of arms and it’s because you are my friend–

“Nago?” she finished. “Is your name Nago?”

The smile he gave was not triumphant.

But it was happy.

Baron stepped up to the dais and held out a hand to her. “No, fair maiden. It is not.”

She took it.

There were a great deal of things to learn while travelling with someone like Baron, but she had both time and a good friend on her side. Eventually though, when the steepest of the learning curve had been breached and their current adventure had drawn to a close, she asked the one thing that had stayed with her since that fateful day.

“What would have happened if I had said your name?”

“I imagine you would have found some way to escape to a better life,” he replied. “No matter which way you chose, you would have been happy, Haru. I made sure of that.”

“No, I mean… what would have happened to you?” she asked.

“Oh. I would have returned to my human shape.”

“Returned?”

“Indeed. I was once human, but a bad encounter with a fairy left me in the form you see today. While useful in its capacity for magic and immortal lifespan, it has stolen the human life I had desired from me. The fairy that cursed me stole my name, and said that only when I hear it spoken once more will it be broken.”

Haru considered this. “I know your name,” she said.

“Then the day you tire of travelling and magic, speak it,” he said, “and our human lives will begin.”

Years passed.

Years passed, and the King passed away, and in his stead a sensible young monarch rose up. The fairy gold tarnished and rusted long before its due, all except for a golden-laden wedding dress that had once been fitted for a future queen. It stayed, and the whispered witch tales transformed to fairy as memories faded and people fell in love with the story of a gold-weaving miller’s daughter who bewitched a king and spirited away before they could wed.

And, in a quiet little village, with a quiet little village green and set between rolling hills, a teashop owner and a seamstress lived happily ever after.

#Anon #replies #cat writes #the cat returns #i realise there's quite a bit of stardust references or inspirations here #the 'colour of your hair or all memories before the age of 5' is i suspect a terrible misquote #also several quotes or lines used from the blue fairy book telling of rumpelstiltskin #shelby shelby shelby you'll like this this has fae magic logic #also i realise this is somewhat similar to my mummy 3 au #in that a fae being grows attached to this singular mortal and plays the system to help them #also i'm lowkey really proud of how this turned out #4K of decent words blasted out in a single day #this'll probably get posted to ffnet and ao3 when i have no multichaptered fics being posted #this was really cute to write and i'm hoping it'll also be really cute to read #let's find out!

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givemea-dam-break · 2 years

Text

A Familiar Feeling

pairing: peter parker (th) x (gender neutral) reader

warnings: major No Way Home spoilers!!!!

words: 820

a/n: so basically i've been in my feels about no way home for the past 5/6 months and have been desperate to write a sad fic based on it, but i wanted to give it plenty of time to settle before doing so so that it's less likely to be a spoiler for people. i hope you enjoy! :) p.s. it didn't even end up being sad i can't believe that i'm evolving

It's snowing outside today.

The Moondance Diner is cool, but not so much so that you're shivering, and the mug of hot chocolate MJ made for you warms your hands through the knitted gloves you insisted you'd keep on. There's something else, though, something that seems to heat you to the bone. Something you're forgetting.

"This is so good," Ned murmurs, staring at his mug of hot chocolate as if it's a gift from some otherworldly being. "MJ, you're getting better at making these."

MJ's lips quirk up slightly, barely enough to be classed as a smile. "I'd hope so, I've been working here for a good few months."

There's a tug in your chest, a feeling trying to remind you of something, but you suppose it's just a feeling of deja vu. You've been having a lot of those lately. Taking another sip of the drink, you smile at both of your friends. "I think they've always been good, MJ."

"There we go." MJ gestures toward you. "Someone who appreciates my work. That'll be another drink on the house for you, my dear friend."

Ned makes an offended sound, but it only makes the three of you laugh. It feels good to just be sitting with them again. The past few months have been riddled with stress from going to college, and you've barely seen your two closest friends, but the December holidays have allowed you all to meet up again in your home town. It's the best you've felt since...

Since...

You frown, trying to remember the memory that just filled you with such warmth and happiness, but it refuses to surface.

Before you can think any further, the bell at the door jingles as it opens, and you look over to see who's entered, just as you always have done but, this time, you're struck with that same feeling of deja vu.

The boy who walks in is around the same age as you, sixteen or seventeen, with rosy cheeks and soft brown hair that curls under the edges of his dark beanie. He tucks something into his pocket quickly, eyes darting around as if he's not sure of where he is or how he got there. His eyes fell on you, a warm brown that was distinguishable from almost a dozen feet away, a colour that sent a shiver running down your spine.

As he walked up to the counter, you turned to Ned and murmured, "Have we met that boy before?"

Ned looked up from his phone, away from some new Star Wars post, to look at the newcomer, and squinted his gaze. "I - I don't think so. Maybe he's got a face that makes you think you know him."

"Maybe," you agreed, but you even believe yourself. Something about this boy... He stirred up strange feelings that you recognised but couldn't place.

After being served his drink, the boy took a deep breath and strode over, stopping just beside where you sat.

"Can I help you?" you asked, not unkindly.

"Hi, um," he pauses, "my name's Peter."

At his nervousness, a small smile rose on your lips. "Y/n," you replied. "Are you lost, or something? I can give you directions if you need."

"Uh, no, it's alright," he said, rocking on his heels slightly. "I just - uh - wanted to introduce myself, I guess."

You glance at MJ, who just shrugs, before looking back at this Peter. "Well, nice to meet you."

Something shifts in his face, something painful, but it's there barely a second before he's smiling, wide and bright. He grips his drink tightly, bobbing his head slightly.

"See you around."

"See you," you say, brows creasing slightly.

As he leaves, despite only just meeting him, there's a part of you that wanted him to stay, like some old, hidden part of your soul remembers part of his. He glances in the diner's window once he's outside, his eyes catching yours, and for a moment, just a moment, an image of his face, bloodied and bruised but perfect, appears in your mind.

"What's this?" MJ says, pointing down at the counter in front of you.

Looking down, you pick up the torn piece of paper. It's crinkled and breaking into almost perfectly straight lines as if it's been folded and unfolded far too many times, but the ink on it is still dark and legible.

Peter Parker, it says, followed by a series of numbers you can only assume is his phone number.

You can only smile, your face suddenly warm. Whatever it is about him, the familiar part that you can't discern, it tugs on something inside you, begging to be paid attention to.

With a grin, you type the number into your phone.

#no way home spoilers #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #no way home x reader #peter parker #spiderman #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #no way home fanfiction #x reader #fanfiction #givema-dam-break

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 2 years

Text

Drapetomania

Armitage Hux x F!Reader

A/N: It’s been a few weeks since I posted anything and I’m hoping I can get more content out over the summer before my degree picks up again. Thanks @acrossthesestars for reading this chapter through ages ago 😅

Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Warnings: feelings, but if a filler chapter, mention of alcohol. Fic is NSFW 18+

Word Count: 2160

Tagging: @lemongingerart @princessxkenobi @strangunddurm

The proximity warnings started as you dropped out of the rushing lights of hyperspace, your eyes taking in the sprawling web-like patterns of Coruscant. It was beautiful, the deep purples punctuated with fine lines of gold that covered the surface. It reminded you of the maze on the Hux estate, where you and Armitage had got lost plenty of times, where you had spent your time exploring each other’s bodies in secret, where you’d both hidden from Brendol and his rage.

Your memories were interrupted by the demand for your landing codes and you rattled off the number that was in the information of your booking. Following the instructions you were given, you guided the ship towards a landing beacon through the atmosphere of Coruscant.

You hadn’t ventured here before and just hearing the stories of the core worlds had set your imagination alight. Buildings rose up tall like daggers and a steady stream of speeder traffic rippled below you, bright lights creating a rainbow effect that blurred as you traveled by and you wished you had more time to explore. Bringing the craft in to land, you tried not to think about what you were about to do. How every step took you closer to that moment you’d dreamed of was a step away from everything you currently knew.

You were checked in by a bored looking twi’lek, her blue and white Republic uniform pressed and perfect as she attached the band to your wrist and made sure it scanned. You tried not to look at the colours too closely because it just reminded you of Poe and you didn’t need those feelings, not now.

“The Halcyon 2 will leave in a couple of days, you can either board now or sightsee in Coruscant. Miss?” You glanced at her, you had been searching the crowd for a shock of ginger hair, which was stupid really.

“Oh, er. I think I’ll just board now, thanks.” Maybe he was already on board? Maybe he was still travelling to you. Maybe this whole thing was a joke.

“Put your band on the scanner and it will grant you access to the docking terminal. A shuttle will take you up to the ship. Enjoy your journey amongst the stars,” she finished in a dry sing-song tone and you wondered how many times a day she had to say that as the gate slid open to admit you.

It was busier here, luggage was being taken by droids and you felt silly handing over a single bag for a whole month trip. The area was huge. A transparisteel dome covered the space, protecting it from the elements. White seats with plush cushions lined most of the floor space and you spied a family of Wookiees taking up one whole bench for themselves. Strange plants added to an attempted natural aesthetic and vents were placed in the ceiling to keep the air circulated and warm, but your gaze was drawn to the dark sky above. You now stood high over Coruscant and found yourself drifting to peer out of the huge plane of transparisteel.

This planet was always so busy, being a highly populated core planet and once the seat of the Jedi and Empire. People were drawn here for jobs, sightseeing, scandal and crime. It all happened on Coruscant.

Walking back over to the line, a droid scanned your band and assured you the single bag of luggage you had would be sent to the appropriate room. You kept a small satchel holding your datapad and a few protein pouches that you’d stolen from the x-wing with you. Following the line of people toward the docking shuttle, you tried not to look around for a shock of red. There was an eclectic collection of species here, their native speech patterns rolling over you. Some you recognised and could understand, others you didn’t. But it was the humans you were interested in, trying not to stare too hard at each new face.

The shuttle ride was quick, which was a relief as it was packed, bodies all pressed together in an effort to get as many people on board as possible. You had hoped getting here a few days early meant it wouldn’t be this busy and you could watch people boarding in the vain hope that you’d see him before he saw you. Because when you did see him you wanted a moment to decide what you were going to do. Or had you made that decision already?

The contents of your shuttle spilled out onto the flight deck and you waited as everyone had their bands scanned and sent in the appropriate directions. The droid scanned yours but a red light flashed instead of green prompting it to scan again.

“You have been upgraded,” it stated when the light turned green.

“Upgraded? Explain?”

“Your standard room has been upgraded to a suite. Please head in this direction.” The droid moved aside and you went to join the smaller crowd at the other end of the atrium, confused as to why your room had changed. Your group was led to a set of stairs that went to an upper level, where all the larger rooms for the higher paying guests were situated. Which apparently you were now. Your band opened the door and you stepped inside.

“Hello, I am Andan,” a voice started behind you. “I am your hospitality liaison. Please use the com should you wish for anything to be brought to your room. Feel free to explore the ship at your convenience. Can I get you anything?” You looked at the young man, his brown eyes watching you curiously as you tried to think of something to say. He was young, with a shock of dark hair, hands clasped politely behind his back and a slightly boyish face.

“No, but thank you.”

He offered you an easy smile before the door shut and he disappeared from view.

“What the fuck…” You placed your bag on the table. The suite was white with black accents. Glow panels lit up the room, but it was the viewport that took your breath away. Stars dotted the velvety dark of space and below you could see the sprawling lights of Coruscant.

The suite had a small eating area that merged with a comfy seating area. A large screen was set into the panels of the wall and you felt a thrill at being able to watch your favourite HoloNet channels without a dodgy signal that needed to be pinged all over the Galaxy to hide its destination.

You walked past the large curved white and black sofa to a door that opened to reveal more hidden cupboards and drawers set into the walls. Another screen next to the door faced a large bed, done up in black sheets. A small door led to a refresher that had you nearly groaning in joy.

You didn’t have to shower in a durasteel tub anymore with cold water and scratchy soap. In front of you was a state of the art bathtub with fancy soaps and scents lining the edge, a shower that was controlled by a touchscreen, and a heated floor that you could feel through your boots.

Instantly you stripped, programming the bath to fill with hot water and bubbles. Your skin protested at first, but you forced yourself to sink down in the hot water and immediately it felt like everything was washed away. You lost count of how long you were in there, washing your hair and body, popping bubbles and splashing in the soapy water. Looking around you frowned, wishing you’d got a towel first. Wringing your hair out, you stood and a panel opened, a rack with towels dropping down in front of you.

Reaching for two towels, you sighed at the warmth of the fluffy material wrapping your body and hair watching as the rack retreated back into the wall. Your toes curled at the sensation of heat from the floor and you couldn’t resist laying down for a moment. The tiles were white and smooth and your fingers traced the almost invisible lines as you let the heat seep into your skin.

Eventually you moved, picking up your dirty clothes and dumping them on the edge of the bed. You went round and opened the drawers only to find them filled with clothes. Slipping on some fresh underwear, you were surprised to see everything was your size. You opened what you thought was the wardrobe but it was in fact a dressing room. The walls were lined with clothes of every colour and fashion you could think of. One space was taken up by a tall rack of shoes and when you tugged on it, the shelves rotated so the shoes you couldn’t reach came down to your level.

“This is fucking insane,” you whispered.

Finding some black leggings and a comfy jumper, you went back out into the living area, noticing for the first time a datapad that you could control the whole suite from, as well as order food and drink and anything else you needed.

It wasn’t until you sat down that you remembered why you were really here. Was Armitage not coming and that’s why your room had been upgraded? As some sort of apology? You doubted it. But you were still waiting for someone to barge in and demand you leave as there had been a mix up. No matter how often you glanced at the door, no one was knocking.

You ordered some food and a bottle of Coruscanti gin, which arrived quickly via a droid who asked politely if you needed anything else before walking away. You glanced up and down the empty corridor, you could hear the noise from the atrium as people still gathered, but you had no desire to go down there just yet.

Sitting with your food and drink, you switched on the massive screen and settled down to watch your favourite programme in colour, with sound that didn’t make them seem like they were underwater. You were going to enjoy being alone for a bit before the nervousness of seeing Armitage really crept up on you.

You didn’t even feel the shudder of the 20 engines starting on the MPO-1600 Purrgil-class star cruiser. Only the announcement that came calmly through your screen told you the ship was finally embarking on its voyage. You had started up your datapad from the Resistance and messages had been steadily coming in from Poe. You weren’t interested in those. They hurt you to look at.

Chewing your lip, the nerves really settled in now. You watched Coruscant slowly grow smaller and you knew you should leave your room and search for the reason you were here. The idea that Hux was on this ship had your mind racing and your pulse throbbing with excitement.

You were dressed in leggings and a pair of mid calf black boots. A light green top made of silk was fitted to your upper body, the sleeves tapering to a point where they hooked over your middle finger. The lower part of the top split from your hips and flowed with each step as you slowly made your way down the steps to the atrium. Your eyes swept the floor space over most of the crowd, which were standing by the massive viewports watching the planet fall away. You headed to the bar, perching on a stool and letting the droid scan your band before asking what you wished to drink. You asked for a gin and droid asked if you wanted an infusion of Pyussh berries to which you agreed. It gave the clear liquid a deep purple look and a sweet aftertaste that you actually found appealing.

Leaning back on the bar, legs crossed and elbows resting easily, you found yourself zoning out to the creatures all around you. They all looked and sounded so excited, happy. Younglings raced around. Human children mixed with Twi’leks, Rodians, Duros, even the small Wookiee.

Is this what life was like outside of the Resistance? All joy and living?

Taking a sip of your drink, your gaze tracked over the crowd and you tried not to let your thoughts sink into the swirling pit that Armitage had never made it on board. If you didn’t see him this week, you contemplated disembarking at the first planet the ship docked at. Maybe you could make your own way back out in the Galaxy, away from the Resistance and away from your memories. Your foot jigged impatiently and you asked for another drink from the droid, watching it in the mirror as it expertly mixed and poured the purple liquid into a clean glass. You lifted the glass, glancing up to see yourself reflected back at you behind the bar, only to freeze mid motion as yours locked with a familiar gaze.

#drapetomania #armitage hux x f!reader #armitage hux x reader #Armitage hux x you #Star Wars #star wars fanficiton #star wars fanfic #armitage hux fanfic #armitage hux fan fiction #armitage hux #general hux

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Text

an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:

#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.

but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.

but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.

#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.

the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.

tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.

#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.

both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.

the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.

#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.

so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.

#5 : the splits

#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.

the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.

cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).

kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.

still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.

#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.

eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.

and then there were two.

kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.

kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.

#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.

right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.

somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.

tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.

#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?

it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.

maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.

besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.

he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.

maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.

#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.

kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.

so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).

understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.

kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.

i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to

also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy

#scribbles from the swamp #kon-el #conner kent #superboy #timkon #core four #dc #kon-el headcanon #kon-el fic #conner kent headcanon #conner kent fic #superboy headcanon #superboy fic #timkon headcanon #timkon fic #core four headcanon #core four fic #dc headcanon #dc fic

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sugarybitterness · 3 years

Text

sleepover - yelena belova x reader

request; i love your writing so i came with a request: can you do 28 fluff from prompt list 1 for yelena? from @greeneyesatme

word count; 2,086

warnings; MAJOR BLACK WIDOW SPOILERS

a/n; ehhh ngl i’m not sure what i feel about this, it ended very differently from what i had in mind at first but i hope y’all enjoy it nonetheless!! feedback is always appreciated <3

the first time you had a sleepover was with your best friend, yelena. you were both 5 and your memory of that night was hazy due to your young age, but you remembered a lot about your best friend.

how the two of you would always sing american pie together and even came up with a dance for it. the two of you performed it for both your sets of parents to try and convince them to let the sleepover actually happen. you can still remember that yelena’s parents were really strict, you always went to her house and it was very rarely the other way round. so the sleepover happened at her place, which was fine to your parents since they lived a couple houses down.

you couldn’t remember what you had for dinner, but you knew you played some sort of board games with yelena and her older sister natasha. natasha was cool and you really really liked her blue hair when she dyed it the next year. plus, she always played with you and yelena, teaching the two of you various tricks.

but one day they simply vanished. the house they lived in had police tape surrounding it and you wondered what happened, if they were okay. you suspected that they went on that big adventure yelena always rambled about. you were always excited when she talked about it and she had promised she’d tell you all about the big adventure when she came home.

but she never did.

now you were much older, but often times you catch yourself singing the familiar lyrics of american pie and you would reminisce about your childhood, your best friend. you tried searching for her- apparently there were way too many yelenas online. but none of them were your yelena, even though you weren’t exactly sure what she even looked like now but you could tell. your friends had asked you how, how could you tell when you hadn’t seen this girl since you were 6? you never really could give them an answer.

you ended up as a english teacher, still living in ohio but you moved to an apartment closer to the preschool you taught at. it seemed like today was going to be a normal day, you had to break up a few fights between the toddlers but nothing some colouring books and crayons couldn’t fix. once all the kids were picked up and you could finally leave, you drove down to your parents’ place for your weekly dinner with your siblings.

it was halfway through dinner when the doorbell rang, interrupting the multiple conversations at the table. being the youngest meant all your siblings turned to you and you rolled your eyes as you stood up to go answer the door.

“hello- yelena?” you gasped, eyes widening as you took in the blonde in front of you. it had been 21 years, her features were matured now but you could recognise those eyes anywhere. it seemed as though yelena knew exactly who you were too, a quick mumble of your name escaping her lips before her arms were wrapped around in a tight embrace. before you could return the hug, you heard footsteps coming from behind and strong arms pulling you back forcefully. a large figure blocks your view and you blink a few times before you hear your dad asking yelena to leave.

“dad what are you doing?” you asked, shoving him aside to step in between him and yelena, frowning when you saw yelena’s pursed lips, her stance defensive.

“she’s a criminal.” he hissed out angrily, glaring at the blonde.

“she was a kid!” you retort, having had this conversation with your dad one too many times. when he had found out you were searching for yelena he was furious, sitting you down and lecturing you about the dangers of going after a criminal. you had argued that yelena was just a child much like yourself, she probably wasn’t even aware of what was going on. your dad countered by saying what if she ended up being trained to become an actual spy which you laughed at and said “well at least that explains why she’s so goddamn hard to track down.”

so yeah, safe to say your dad was not the biggest fan of yelena.

“it’s okay, i can go.” yelena voice interrupted your starting contest and you were quick to whirl around, hand wrapping around her upper arm.

“you’re not going anywhere.” the words i can’t lose you again hung in the air, unspoken but you just know that she knew.

“why are you even here?” your dad sneered and you rolled your eyes again at his hostility.

“i was looking for y/n, that’s all.” yelena replied calmly, her eyes starting straight back at your father. men never intimidated her, not anymore.

“well, you found them, you saw them-“

“do you want to go back to my place?” you interrupt your dad, ignoring his protests about how you were crazy, letting a criminal know your address and how everyone else was waiting. but you didn’t care. a hesitant nod from the blonde was all it took for you to point out your car to her before you went in to grab your stuff, your dad still hot on your tail. mumbling a quick apology to your mother and your siblings, you gave one last glare to your father before leaving.

okay maybe you were getting a little too ahead of yourself. your dad did have a good point, yelena was apart of some dangerous situation and she jolly well could have been recruited into the same organisation that sent her out to ohio. but one look at how small the blonde looked standing next to your car, how lost she seemed made all those thoughts stop. she didn’t seem like a criminal, no, she seemed like someone who lost everything all at once. if only you realised how true your thoughts were.

the ride to your apartment was silent, your eyes kept darting from the familiar roads in front of you to the now unfamiliar blonde beside you. stopping at a red light, you pull out your phone to connect it to the aux cord, picking out the song and putting it on loop. yelena’s gaze is quick to meet yours and you both stare at each other as the lyrics start up, small smiles dancing on your lips. a loud honk from the car behind you breaks the moment though and you’re quick to set the car back into drive. when the chorus rolls along, you’re pleasantly surprised when yelena’s soft voice fills the car. when you catch her sparkling eyes in the split second you turn your gaze to her, you’re quick to join in the singing.

by the end of the second time the song has played, you’re already pulling into your apartment’s car park. turning off the engine, you grab your stuff and yelena quietly follows you. her thoughts were all over the place, because while yes she had begged melina to give her the exact address of their old house to find you, she hadn’t expected it to actually work. she hadn’t expected you to remember her at all, much less defend her (ironic really considering how her life played out) or even bring her to your home. but here she was, stepping into your house.

“so.. your big adventure lasted quite a while huh?” you joked as you dropped your bag onto the couch, making a beeline for the kitchen. figuring that you should be having this conversation sober, you grabbed two sodas and headed back to the living room where yelena was standing nervously.

“i’m guessing you want to know all about it? i did promise i’d tell you..” yelena mumbled, accepting the soda with a strange look on her face. she hadn’t really tried many other drinks except for water or alcohol.

“only what you’re comfortable with.” you stated firmly, plopping down onto the couch and patting the empty space next to you. you took a long swig of your soda and turned to face yelena once she sat down. you knew better than to push the blonde for any answers, something tells you that the story she was about to tell wouldn’t be an easy tale to share.

yelena started from the beginning, how it seemed like an adventure at first but then there were gunshots. her mother (“technically my fake mother, but she was the only mother i ever knew.”) getting hurt, her sister (“also my fake sister, but.. what we had..? no what we have is real.”) having to pilot the plane while her father (“again fake father.. but he’s not too bad.”) was hanging onto the plane wing.

then, she and natasha were taken away. seperated by the red room, a dangerous organisation that exploited little girls, to become killers. natasha escaped, so the director became more ruthless and chemically subjugated the rest of the widows, including yelena.

“we took them down in the end. we killed him and he’s gone now. mama melina helped make more of the antidote and i’ve freed the rest of the widows.” yelena finished the story, both your sodas now finished.

“well that really does explain why i could never find you.” you sighed, leaning your head back on the couch.

“you were looking for me?” yelena asked, voice soft with disbelief. you hummed in agreement, forcing your eyes open to look at your childhood bestfriend.

“so, what now lena?” you questioned, frowning softly at the way yelena seemed to deflate a little.

“i.. i don’t know. i don’t really have any place to go.” yelena sighed, turning to face you. you continued to stare at her, weighing the options in your mind.

“do you remember our first sleepover?” you probed carefully.

yelena nodded, replying, “how could i ever forget?”

“we could always do that again.. all you need to do is ask.” you offered, a smile tugging at your lips when you saw yelena’s eyes light up when the hidden meaning behind your words sank in. again, were you a little crazy for letting a trained killer into your home? maybe. but the longer you stared at the blonde, the harder it was to believe she could ever hurt anyone.

“so.. can i stay here tonight?” yelena asked, a small smile of her own dancing on her lips.

“of course.” your lips stretching into a larger smile as you stood up, motioning for yelena to follow you. thankfully your bed had a pullout so you were quick to assemble it for the blonde. after loaning her some pyjamas, the two of you talked late into the night. this time it was you sharing your stories and as the conversation between the two of you flowed effortlessly, it was as if yelena never left.

the next day was a saturday, allowing you both to sleep in before making lunch together. when evening came, you casually mentioned that yelena could stay until she found her own place if she wanted to stay in ohio. the two of you fell into a routine soon after and yelena worked on trying to figure out what to do now that the widow programme was more or less dissolved.

a couple months pass and all of a sudden the sokovia accords have been overturned, allowing the avengers to reunite. natasha reaches out to yelena soon after to recruit her into the team, much to the blonde’s surprise. at this point the two of you had fallen into a relationship that danced between the lines of platonic and romance. you weren’t too keen on yelena leaving, but you knew that as much as she wanted to build a life in ohio, being an ex-assassin made it difficult to do so. joining the avengers in new york would be the perfect opportunity for her. so after much persuasion and the promise that you would do your best to make the move from ohio to new york, yelena accepted her sister’s invitation.

a month later, you turned up at the avengers compound with all of your own belongings packed. thanks to natasha’s help, you were able to find a preschool nearby to continue teaching while staying with yelena much to the joy of the blonde. as you and yelena settled in to your new home at the avengers compound, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova fluff #marvel #black widow #black widow spoilers

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Do you have any fic recs of Sherlock being soft for John and John only.

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhhhhhh your request had me thinking that yes I do, and I did tag a few fics with “soft Sherlock”, but I’ve never started a list, so here ya go!

SOFT SHERLOCK

See also: Sherlock Soft With Children

Soft. Happy. Content. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 223 w., 1 Ch. || Sleepy Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Spooning, Morning After, Sherlock POV) – Sherlock reflects on his state of mind. Part 6 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

A Perfect Figure by ecb327 (K, 622 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, First Person POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Light Angst) – Sherlock build a spot in his mind palace for John.

I Knew You Loved Me by inevitably_johnlocked (T, 743 w., 1 Ch. || Morning Cuddles, Fluff, Clingy Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slice of Life, Morning After, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Declarations of Love, Pet Name, Bed Sharing, Snuggles) – John and Sherlock share a lie-in the morning after their first time. So fluffy and gross your teeth will fall out. Part 4 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Peacock by ClassyGirlsWearPearls (T, 1,189 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Cranky Sherlock, Soft John, Hand Holding, Soft Sherlock) – A study in Sherlock and John.

Mizzle by MrsNoggin (K, 1,233 w., 1 Ch || Friendship, Fluff, Platonic Johnlock, Humour, Slice of Life) – John can't decide if it's raining or not. Sherlock doesn't understand.

And, Usually, He's the One Who GIVES Me a Headache by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,315 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, POV John, Cranky John, Headaches, Head Massage) – A migraine is never fun.

Together is What we Have, Together Protects Us by Phantom of the Black Pearl (K+, 1,566 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Platonic or Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock, Slice of Life) – After a case one evening in the flat Sherlock voices a concern that causes the pair to consider why they've chosen to stick together after all that's happened

Here to Stay by MockJayPhoenix12 (K, 1,574 w., 1 Ch. || Post Reunion, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Headache, Bed Sharing, Care Taker Sherlock, Hand Holding, Fluff) – On Sherlock's first day home, John wakes with a migraine.

Evermore by SosoHolmesWatson (G, 2,068 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4, 5-Year-Old Rosie, Love Confessions, Song Fic, Parentlock, Oblivious John, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Disney Songs, Beauty and the Beast) – For the past years, John and Sherlock have lived at Baker Street again, raising Rosie together--as friends and nothing more. Ever since the little girl has watched her first Disney movie, she is obsessed with princesses. When John comes home one day, he finds his friend and his daughter in the middle of a reenactment of her current favourite. Part 1 of Made of Music

Let the Sun Fade Out by nothingislittle (E, 2,711 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff & Smut, Praise Kink, PWP, Obsessed Sherlock, Bottomlock, Heart-Tearing Love) – "He could warm the sun itself, Sherlock thinks, could heat their flat with just his presence, could brighten the room with one dazzling smile or just the sparkling in his eyes. John is everything, he’s beautiful and he shines, he’s everything."

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Sherlock/Sally Friendship, Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

Pillow Talk by 221b_hound (E, 2,925 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, Est. Rel., Preening Sherlock, Limpet Sherlock, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Sex on Furniture, Scent Kink, Masturbation, Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Sherlock’s Bum) – John gets home late from work and Sherlock is nowhere to be seen. John walks through the flat, distracted by memories of all the excellent sex they've been having, and finally finds Sherlock asleep in the upstairs room - apparently having fallen asleep mid-wank while inhaling the scent of John's pillow. Well, you should always finish what you start, John thinks... Part 3 of Lock and Key

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it's time to act.

Affirmation by jamlockk (E, 3,096 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Dev. Rel., PWP, Love Declarations, Emotional/Overwhelmed Sherlock, Comforting/Caring John, Gross Fluff) – "Sunlight dappled John's skin, casting a glow across his spreadeagled form as he dozed among the rumpled sheets. Sherlock knew the expression on his face was hopelessly soft but for once did not care about showing his true feelings so openly. He simply stood there, in the doorway, gazing at the impossibly beautiful man currently snuffling softly in his slumber." Part 8 of All the ways we love

Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w., 1 Ch. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming, Multiple Orgasms) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock's belly.

Morning Sunlight by slashscribe (E, 3,565 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Morning Sex, Fluff, PWP, Established Rel., Soft Idiots) – A thin band of soft morning light peeks between the curtains and stretches across John’s torso, laying dormant across his forearm, dipping into the space between his arm and his chest, illuminating his right nipple but just brushing the edge of his left, disappearing into his armpit, and reappearing again right over Sherlock’s eyes where his head rests, nestled against John’s shoulder. Sherlock is not annoyed by the light’s intrusion on his sleep, not when it rests so soft and tantalizing on John’s skin, a work of unintentionally erotic art. A PWP with so much emotion.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

Date Night by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 4,451 w., 1 Ch. || Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Caring John, Schmoopy Fluff, Fidget Cube, Baking / Cooking, Date Night, Established Relationship, POV Sherlock Holmes, Understanding John, Grumpy Sherlock, John’s Bum, Kisses, Hugs, Domestic Fluff, Touching, Hair Petting, Light Humour) – It's John and Sherlock's first Date Night as an official couple and Sherlock needs it to be PERFECT. Mrs Hudson helps. Part 7 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, First Person Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

all things warm and tender by darcylindbergh (E, 5,177 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Romantic Fluff, Rimming/Anal/BJ’s, Body Worship) – Grinning and giggling, John slides back down under the sheet and pulls it over his head. He finds Sherlock waiting for him, eyes bright and hair wild, the firelight bleeding through the thin fabric, colouring everything in soft peach and topaz, and in that moment he is so suddenly, unexpectedly, ethereally beautiful that John forgets how to breathe.

Pillow Talk by scullyseviltwin (M, 5,183 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Angsty Fluff, Pillow Talk, Bed Sharing, Worried John, First Time Morning After, Soft Sherlock, Sexuality Discussion, Love Confessions, Kisses and Cuddles) – John has been looking at Sherlock for ages, it feels like.

a very soft epilogue (my love) by darcylindbergh (E, 5,395 w., 3 Ch. || Retirement, Domestic Fluff, Dancing, Dogs, Grumpy Old Men) – Across the pillows, Sherlock shifts and hums, the creases of his face deepening and then smoothing before settling. John watches him wake up, his chest swelling with affection and fondness, and thinks he’ll never get tired of Sherlock in the mornings, sleepy and soft. It’s been some forty-odd years, and John hasn’t gotten tired of it yet. Part 5 of things fairy tales are made of

Naked by sussexbound (E, 6,166 w., 1 Ch. || Frottage, Fluff, Intimacy, First Time, Love Declarations, Trust) – John takes a deep breath, and then lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Sherlock, how would you feel if you were sitting out here doing one of your bloody experiments, and I just waltzed out of the loo and started fixing myself breakfast completely starkers? Hmm…? ”Sherlock’s lips inch up at the corners into a pleased hint of a smile he can’t seem to suppress. Part 2 of Intimacy

Christmas by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 7,673 w., 1 Ch. || Worried Sherlock, PWP, Drunkeness, Christmas, Est. Relationship, Idiots So In Love) – John feels a lump rise in his throat, and it hits him, again, that this beautiful, infuriating creature is his. Completely, one-hundred percent his.

How To Give Your Boyfriend Who Doesn't Know He's Your Boyfriend the Best Valentine's Day Ever by unicornpoe (T, 9,832 w., 1 Ch. || Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Crack, Soft Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock is pretty sure that John Watson is his boyfriend. He's also pretty sure that John doesn't know it. But with a little help from a magazine, some friends, three crepes, five dates, one awesome CD, and a stalker van, John is bound to realize just in time for Valentine's Day.

Someone I Love by hudders-and-hiddles (M, 10,002 w., 2 Ch. || Canon Compliant, HLV-Filler Fic, Pre-Slash, Jealous John, PIning Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, UST/URT, Dog Tags) – John gets married and Sherlock finds comfort in wearing John's identity tags around his wrist.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

holding steady by darcylindbergh (E, 12,724 w., 4 Ch. || Post S4, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Growing Old, Gone Fishing, Mood without Plot, Soft Sherlock, Caring Sherlock, POV John Third Person, Anxious Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Touching, Feeling Old, Sherlock Worship, Crying Sherlock, Cuddles, Comforting, Introspection, Retirement, Hand Holding, Forehead Kisses, Caring John, Bed Sharing, Emotional Love Making) – Sitting on a thick wool blanket at the end of a rickety dock side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge, a styrofoam container of wet, dark dirt between them, they’re fishing. John knows what this is about. This is about finally figuring it out.

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #soft sherlock #Anonymous #long post

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maddieinwonder · 4 years

Text

A Lesson In Romance #2: Opposites Attract

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they become friends.

A/N: I can't believe I rewrote this chapter, like, 5 times, but I'm kinda happy with the final result 😌😌😌 Again, my ask is open if you want to send me a trope request!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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Contrary to popular belief, you've watched your fair share of rom-coms. Or at least enough to understand its three-act structure, even if you didn't understand why people bought into it just yet.

Take the concept of "opposites attract" for example. Two people with completely different interests and personalities are supposedly perfect for each other because they compensate for the other's weaknesses. But it was illogical, you knew this for a fact.

Opposites attract had your college roommate crying herself to sleep when she decided to date a popular jerk-wad. Opposites attract caused your best friend to transfer schools after a cruel Valentine's Day prank. Opposites attract made your dad divorce your mum and leave you and your siblings alone at the ripe age of eleven.

But according to rom-coms, these relationships were worth it. There was nothing sweeter than a shy person complementing a loud bully, or nothing that screamed sexual tension more than a practical joker tormenting a goody-two-shoes.

For your entire life up until this point, you just didn't get it. But then you met Garcia and Morgan, and things began to make sense.

The two of them couldn't be further apart. Derek was a typical player — traditional good looks, muscular, was probably a jock in high school. Penelope, on the other hand, dressed in bright colours and even brighter hair. She seldom left her office — which, for the record, was covered wall to wall with cuteness — and cared about her technology like it was an extension of herself.

At first, you didn't understand why they were so close. They were basically polar opposites. But when one of your first cases with the BAU hit too close to home for the usually cheerful tech analyst, you watched Derek drop everything he was doing to gently support her through it.

This was enough to make you rethink your theory. And if you were being really honest, it was enough to make you yearn for something like that for yourself.

Because the thing is, you hadn't stopped thinking about the shy, awkward man you met at the coffee shop. Even more so now that you were working together, and you found out that he was a certifiable genius with an IQ of 187.

To add to your surprise, you and Spencer weren't opposites — not in any material way, at least. You couldn't say otherwise when you only knew the things that everybody else knew.

Like how the two of you had qualifications in psychology (he had a B.A., you had a PhD), loved Doctor Who (he preferred Tom Baker, but you were partial to David Tennant), and shared a favourite movie genre in science fiction, but specifically space opera (he loved Star Trek, you were nostalgic for Star Wars).

And that was just the beginning.

You begun to realise little things about him every day that you noticed in yourself. The obvious one was your coffee preferences. You pretended not to notice when the team raised their eyebrows at the three full spoons of sugar you added to your coffee everyday.

But you also noticed the way Spencer bounced his leg when he was nervous, or moved his mouth when he was reading at that unbelievable pace.

You watched him so often, in fact, that one day you found yourself doing his trademark awkward smile and you realised your silent observations had gone too far.

In reality, you hadn't spoke to him alone for more than 10 minutes since you joined the team. The two of you were always around other people for some reason or other, and after the first few weeks passed like this, the expiry on talking to him about the coffee shop incident seemingly ran out.

Then one morning, when the coffee machine at work broke down and you were beginning to think this was the start of a very bad day, a cup of coffee was gently placed in front of you.

"Good morning," Spencer greeted, pulling over the chair from his desk to sit next to you. His held his own cup of coffee in one hand.

You recognised the logo as the coffee shop where you met him. The same one you'd been avoiding since you started working here. (Ok, so maybe the reason you hadn't spoken about the incident wasn't entirely due to external forces.)

"What's this for?" You asked, as if you didn't already know.

"A peace offering," he said, locking eyes with you. "I haven't seen you at the coffee shop in three weeks, which coincides exactly with the day we met and your first day at the BAU. I've... I've come to the conclusion that you're avoiding me, but I really hope you won't."

"Why?" You asked, reaching for the warm takeaway cup.

"Because I'd like to get to know you better." He said frankly. You were glad you hadn't taken a sip yet, because you might have spit it out in shock.

In the rom-coms you watched, confessions like these usually happened to a swell of music and dimmed lights, maybe while the two main characters were dancing in each others arms. But under the fluorescent lights at the bureau, you only felt your heart swell to an imaginary soundtrack.

"So would I," you replied, smiling despite yourself. You couldn't believe you just compared a rom-com scenario to real life, but watching Spencer's smile widen at your reply made the critic in you subside. His smile was, strangely, beautiful to you now.

"You're lucky I remembered your order," he teased, his pinkish cheeks weren't beyond your notice.

"Spencer. We share the same coffee order and you have an eidetic memory," you replied dryly.

"I know," he said, and the two of you locked eyes for a moment before breaking into a bout of laughter over the absurdity of your relationship.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the unusual sight had caught the eyes of the other members in the bullpen. But it was only the next morning when you and Spencer walked into the office with matching cups of coffee, that the team confirmed that something was definitely up.

And they were going to find out what.

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Tag list:

@blue-space-porgs

#mads fics #spencer reid x reader: a lesson in romance #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #cm fic #cm fanfic #derek morgan #penelope garcia #morcia #morgan x garcia #criminal minds #cm

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tohruhondaismydaughter · 3 years

Text

Just had some headcanons about Machi pop into my head that I wanted to share with yall. So we know this poor girl struggles with "perfect"/neat things right? Well I was thinking about some healthy coping mechanisms she could develop to replace the whole 'breaking property/living in a dump' thing & here's what I got so far -

1. She always tries to wear odd socks (unless she's invited somewhere nice)

2. Ayame & Mine help her find cool asymmetrical stuff to wear, how to make clashing colours/patterns work for her & teach her how to sew up her old clothes in a more "punk rock" way (after Yuki & Kakeru explain some of her issues with perfection)

3. Tohru gently points out that she dosn't have to tie her laces the same way on both shoes if she dosn't want to

4. Haru & Rin (awkwardly on her part) teach her the power of acessorising (ie. wearing only one earing, putting on an uneven amount of bracelets/rings/necklaces, adding paper clips of different sizes & colours to your clothing & Machi later ends up adding stuff like buttons to her outfits/belongings as well which Haru & Rin are tottally surppotive of despite thier difference in style) & hair/makeup which (thanks to Yuki's advice) they make sure to keep slightly messy (Kimi laughed at it at first until Momiji made her feel bad after he told her that Machi had gone to the bathroon & wiped off all the make up & undid the hair style so Kimi bought her some limited edition Mogeta merch, after asking for Yuki's advice, in apolgey & started referring to Machi's new hair/makeup style as "punk chic" whenever anyone tried to mock Machi about her new look)

5. her & Momiji go on a crazy tie dying adventure (much to Hatori's grumbling & Mayu's amusement)

6. Kormaki gets her into collecting second hand fridge magnets which she then later uses in her work (my version of post-serise Machi is an artist) once the magnetism finally wears off

7. Kagura teaches her how to fix up old plushies (Machi likes creating Mogeta inspired characters) & gives Machi all her old cat ones to work on (Machi descides not to ask why Yuki's cousin was seemingly once obssesd with orange cats because she looks rather embrassed & a little sad when she hands over her collection)

8. Kyo reluctantly teaches her how to cook a few simple dishes (Tohru comes over as well & Yuki insists her food is better but Machi prefers Kyo's simple style of presentation so it's eventually descided that Kyo & her will do the cooking & Tohru & Yuki will deal with the cleaning which Yuki agrees to becuse cleaning is still difficult for Machi but Kyo says it's actually because no matter how much Tohru tried to train him rat boy knows he would never be able to do anything in the kitchen but burn water)

9. Kakeru teaches her the skills of 'excessive badge & sticker decorating' as well as giving eachother fake tattoos (Kisa congratulates Hiro on not saying anything rude to Yuki's girlfriend about her appreance after they first meet her)

10. Cuts her hair short (she delibretly makes it very choppy) once she enters university, where the rules are less strict about your apprence (at least it is if your at art college), & she also regulary wears diffrent coloured wigs (her favourites being a dark red one & a rainbow one) whenever she wants to temporarily change her appearance (beacuse she didn't want to commit to just one look, still wanted to have the ability to quickly "become invisable" again & she heard from Kimi that exsseive hair die-ing could permantly destroy her hair & scalp) it takes her until she's 30 to try out shaving all her hair off (she worried she'd look sick/crazy or not feminine enough) & everyone's really surppotive (though Kimi dose cry a bit, Rin & Haru aren't there when her hair is being shaved & Kyo is a slightly confused as he'd always thought women liked having longer hair then guys) especially Ritsu (who's growing out thier hair again) & they all throw her a big party (Haru & Rin are there for the party bit just not the hair removal bit because it brought up some bad memories) where Kakeru films it & posts it (with Machi's permission) & they give her cut off hair to a charity chosen by all thier followers (despite her disbelief Machi has manged to gain a small group of loyal fans from all her art stuff & her apprences on her loved ones social media), Kakeru also later uploads a video where they help Machi rainbow dye her buzz cut, (she later explores many diffrent types of buzz cut patterns such as flowers & geometric shapes but, at Kimi's insistence, gets them done by a professional)

11. She recycles & D.Y.I's like crazy (Momiji started singing Do Re Mi from The Sound Of Music after she told him that her new dress was actually made from curtains & Yuki cried when she gave him a little rat plushie made from felt, after he came clean to her about the curse)

12. She almost never wears an apron while working on her art because she likes getting messy

13. When her & Yuki go out to eat she loves things like fondoe (both the chocolate & cheese kind), eat N mess & is genreually just a fan of finger food & it becomes a tradition between her & Yuki (& later Mutsuki) to go on a stroll through the park after thier meal & (if it's autumn) look for piles of leaves to jump in (Machi & Yuki also like playing a game where they try to look for the weirdest looking leaf to give eachother & whoever wins gets to pick what they'll eat for dinner that evening & the looser has to cook it, Mutsuki is the "impartial" judge)

14. Machi is amazing at scrapbooking & collarge making (Tohru is more of a dream journal kind of girl)

15. When it's Summer her, Yuki & Mutsuki go down to the beach to see who can find the weirdest looking rocks (the less impressive ones often get used in Machi's art work, the coolest ones Mutsuki gets to keep & any that are too perfect get tossed back in the ocean & Mutsuki likes to score the splashes they make on how big/loud they are)

16. She loves helping Yuki out with gardening for lots of reasons (it's therapeutic & she loves seeing Yuki happy) but she can't deny it's also just fun getting muddy

17. Machi, thanks to Kakeru, devolpes a love of paint ball (but instead of using guns they just throw the paint at eachother like in 10 Things I Hate About You because apparently the gun pellets actually hurt) & will bring it up as an activity idea to her loved ones any chanse she gets

18. Decorates as much of her flat (& later her home with Yuki & Mutsuki) with Mogeta merchandise, random things she collects & her own art work as a big fuck you to her bitch "you have 0 personality/hobbies or talents" of a mother

19. Kisa (happily) & Hiro (reluctantly) introduce Machi to the magic of glitter

20. Machi & Rin eventually become proper friends due to bonding over being abounded by their asshole parents & one of the things they like to do together is work on thier seprete art peices while listening to music (Machi dosn't do any of her "aggressive" art, like plate smashing, around Rin though thanks to Yuki & Haru warnings)

21. When stuff gets to be too much & none of thier other coping strategies are working (like watching Mogeta stoned- which Kisa, Tohru & Momiji do not partake in) Machi & Haru bond by going to rage rooms together to destroy shit & scream (Haru obviously dosn't want Rin around for any of that though so Momiji, Tohru, Kagura or Hana will often take the opportunity to hang out with her, one time Yuki offered & it wasn't bad but it was definitely awkward as they had never really hung out without Haru before & Haru teases her for ages afterwards about her ending up liking Yuki once she actually spent some time with him which, like the precious tsundere she is, Rin will forever deny)

22. (I actually made a whole seprete post about this ages ago but now it seems to have vanished so in case other Machi fans are unable to find it l'll add it here) on the days that it's supposed to snow but dosn't Yuki takes her (& later Mutsuki) skating so she can enjoy scratching up the perfectly smooth ice (they would have gone on double dates with Tohru & Kyo if Tohru wasn't freaked out at the idea of having blades on her shoes & Kyo hadn't claimed to "not trust" ice, he's dislike comes from all the times Kagura had forced him to ice skate with her on the lake near Kazuma's place in the winter when they were kids, so they would instead go with Haru & Momiji - they had thought about going with Haru x Rin & Kakeru x Kormaki once but he proudly revealed that he'd been banned from thier local ice rink years ago for trying "perfectly safe" Olympic level stunts in he's attempt to recreate one of he's favriote episodes of Power Rangers, much to he's fiancee's anger, & Machi reminded Yuki that though Haru & Kakeru were fine with eachother Rin isn't reall able to stand Kakeru for longer than 5 minuites)

#fruits basket #headcanons #machi #machi kuragi #machi headcanons #machi kuragi headcanons #fruits basket headcanons

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backtothefanfiction · 3 years

Text

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW | Chapter 5

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: One good night out turns into a two month affair.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! Drug use, relationship abuse, mental manipulation, drinking, cheating, angst, language, smut, praise, fingering, slightly rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex (you know the phrase kids...).

Word Count: 6335

A/N- This is a heavy chapter so I have done a longer authors note here. Please read before continuing if you haven’t already read it. Events in this chapter take place 11 months before Italy and a couple weeks after Will’s chapter.

PART FIVE| 11 MONTHS AGO

'Hey Will said you were back. Want to go grab a drink tonight?'

'Yea, sure. Who else is gonna be there?'

'No one else, unless you want to invite others. I kinda just wanted to spend some time with you and catch up.'

'Okay, sounds good to me.'

Frankie had run into Will as he was coming out of a bar earlier that afternoon. He was grateful that Will hadn't notice him coming out through the doors of the establishment, allowing him the chance to pretend like he was just in the neighbourhood; and the fact they had run into each other outside a bar was just coincidence. When Will had casually dropped into conversation that you were home and that he had seen you, that had triggered something in Frankie. Whether it was just his slightly drugged up and alcohol riddled mind or something else, Frankie couldn't tell, but he knew he couldn't get you out of his head.

Frankie had always had a thing for you, ever since Benny first brought you home with him after your last tour together and introduced you to everyone. You were gorgeous, deadly and had a wicked sense of humour, you were everything he wanted in a woman and that's why he had been absolutely terrified to make a move. As time went on and you found your place amongst the group, Frankie came to appreciate how lucky he was just to have you in his life and as a friend and as time moved on further still, it became clear to him that he'd completely missed his chance.

He had started dating Laura just over a year ago now. She was nice, pretty, sassy. She reminded him of a slightly watered down version of you and believing he had fully missed his chance with you and would never get the real you, he figured he could do a lot worse than settling for Laura.

Around month nine of the relationship Frankie started to recognise he wasn't happy. He soon found himself relapsing into old habits he'd fallen into after he'd first come home for good and the PTSD had settled in. It started off as sneaking a bump off someone in the bathroom of a bar one night when they had gone out for drinks with some of Laura's friends. Just a little something to get him through the rest of the evening. A couple of days later it had happened again. It was only when Frankie had dug out his old burner phone from a lock box in the garage and contacted his old dealer, did he realise he was no longer in control anymore, but he didn't care. That's how he had ended up drunk texting you at half past three on a Tuesday afternoon asking you to go out with him for the evening so he didn't have to be at home with 'her'.

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“Hey.” you said getting up from the booth you had commandeered as you waited for him to arrive.

“Hey.” he grinned as he wrapped you up into his arms, his head burying into your hair. It was so soft and smelt amazing, like coming home. “You been waiting here long?” he asked as he reluctantly pulled away from you, both of you sitting yourselves back in the booth. Frankie had taken a moment longer than he should have to get out of his truck when he had first arrived, prioritising snorting another line of coke up his nose off his dashboard, instead of coming straight in to you. A slight panic fogged his brain as he feared he'd taken longer than he had and made you wait ages for him.

“Nah, I only got here like 5 minutes ago or something like that.” You confessed and Frankie relaxed a bit. “Do you want me to go get the first round?” you asked, pointing towards the bar.

“No, its alright, I'll get it.” Frankie said hopping up from the seat. “What do you want?”

“I'll just take a beer.” you replied. You really were a girl after his own heart.

Frankie came back with two bottles of beer a few minutes later, handing one over to you as he tried to manoeuvre himself back into the booth without using his hands. “So when did you get back?” he asked casually, a typical conversation starter.

“Nearly two weeks ago.” you said, taking a sip of your beer.

“Where did you go again?” Frankie asked, his memory of where you'd been the last 6 months hazy.

“Colombia.” you said.

“Ahh, te dio la oportunidad de trabajar en tu español.” Ahh, gave you an opportunity to work on your Spanish.

“Cállate, mi español es muy bueno. Después de todo, aprendí de los mejores.” Shut up, my Spanish is great. I did learn from the best after all, you said stroking his ego and making him blush slightly.

“So what were you doing down there?”

You looked down at your bottle, unable to meet his eyes. “A whole load of stuff that, probably wasn't very legal.” you said, giving him as vague an answer as you possibly could. You looked up, expecting him to have a judgemental look on his face, but instead you were met with one of sympathy. You'd all landed yourselves in some form of shit or another since leaving active service and Frankie was the last person who could pass judgement.

You sat there for almost an hour just talking, drinking your first beers slowly. “You want another one?” Frankie asked, motioning to the empty bottle in your hands that you were now peeling the label off of.

“Yeah, sure.” you said with a smile. You looked to your left to find the pool table had also just become free. “Do you want a game?” you said motioning to the table where the last occupants were throwing the cues on top of it.

“Yeah sure. I'll go get the beers, you go rack ‘em up.” he said, hopping out of the booth with a smile.

You made your way over to the pool table, reaching your hand into the pocket of your jeans, searching for loose change. You took the quarters out, slotting them into the machine. The balls dropped like thunder as they were released, rolling towards the end of the table so you could pull them out the hole in the side. You rolled the discarded pool cues to the side of the table as you reached for the triangle, placing it on the top near you. You bent down to pull out the balls, dropping them blindly inside the triangle above your head. When you had pulled out the last one you stood and was met with Frankie's still smiling face making his way back over to you.

He handed you the beer and you took a sip before placing it on the edge of the table so you could use both your hands to pick out the balls, moving them into their correct spots within the triangle, then sliding them all into place. “Who's going first?” you asked Frankie who had put the pool cues that had been on the table, back into the rack on the wall, choosing his own to play with in the process.

“Well that depends, you get any better at breaking.” you screwed up your mouth at the cheap shot he'd just taken. You were a decent pool player but you were awful at getting the game started.

“Fine Morales, looks like you're going first.”

“Thank you.” he said, jokingly tipping his head at you as he put himself in position at the end of the table.

There was a loud crack as Frankie hit the triangle, the balls bouncing off each other in different directions. You winced in disbelief as he managed to pot two balls with just one shot. He flashed his eyebrows at you, showing off. “You know I think that was one of each.” you taunted him, bringing him back to earth. “You can only chose one, what's it gonna be?”

“Just because I know how much you love playing stripes...” he said leaving the sentence open with a shrug before moving himself around the table to pot one of the solid coloured balls. For a moment, both of you watched eagerly expecting it to go in, but it leaned to the right at the last second and bounced back, away from the hole.

You took a quick sip of your beer before placing it back on the side. “Ready to see how it's done.” you teased, dancing around the table sizing up your first shot. You started out with an easy shot, potting it with not much trouble. Frankie gave you a small nod of acknowledgment before you began circling the table again, working out your next move. You saw it near the corner. You lined up your shot and... clunk, you sank another ball into the hole.

You stood back from the table grinning as you looked over to him, ready to taunt. “That's two.” you said, a faint giggle at the end of the sentence. You danced around the table again looking for the next one. You decided to try your luck but ultimately missed.

“Hey, you can’t get them all in one go.” he said, pushing himself off the wall where he had been leaning. He handed you his beer to hold as he took his go. He fumbled his shot and you were soon handing his drink back to him to take your next go.

It had ended up being a quick game. You had won, easily potting ball after ball, much to Frankie's amazement. “Okay, you had to have been cheating. I want a rematch.” Frankie said, playfully challenging you.

“I mean, I am more than happy to give you one... then beat your ass again and then again and again.” you laughed.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Just rack 'em up again. I gotta go to the restroom.” he said backing away towards the door to the toilets.

When Frankie came back from the toilet he carried himself differently. He seemed both a little bit shinier but also spacey. It was a look you had recognised in people around you many times and had even, on occasion, experienced yourself. You had experimented with drugs a few times over the years, sometimes to keep your cover when trying to get intelligence out of a contact, other times just because it was a night out and you wanted to let your hair down. You never made a habit of it though. You never would have pegged Frankie of making a habit of it either, but it was becoming clearer and clearer to you, as you thought back on his behaviour at the start of the night, that it was.

“Hey, you ready?” he said as he picked his pool cue back up, snapping you away from your internal monologue. 'He's a grown man, he knows what he's doing' you berated yourself, shrugging off his actions. “You wanna break this time?” he asked you, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.

You pulled a face of discomfort. “Uhh.”

“Come on, I'll help you. You'll never get better if you don't practice.”

“Fine.” you said rolling your eyes, your footsteps falling heavier, stomping, mocking a stroppy teenager. He laughed.

“Come here.” He said ushering you to the table and taking a stance behind you. “You're problem is you doubt yourself and then get shaky on your follow through.” He said as you leant forward and lined your cue up with the ball. He leaned over with you, one hand on your left arm, helping hold it steady, the other finding a home over your hand on the cue.

He helped guide it back and you relaxed into his touch as you let him manipulate the shot. It was a gentle, yet forceful, nudge of the cue that sent the white ball careening quickly towards the waiting triangle of balls at the other end of the table. You turned back to him, smiling in triumph at the clack of balls as they scattered across the table. That's when you realised how close the two of you were. You couldn't help but look directly into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, somehow they were both bright and glassy at the same time.

You weren't sure why you were doing it, but you found your fingers reaching for the front pocket of his jeans, hooking just the tips of them in slightly, nudging the bag of blow. His eyes grew panicked as you began to pull the small baggy from his pocket, curling it into your fingers. You bit your lower lip, trying to search his eyes for how he was going to react, if he was going to react. He didn't move. A part of you thought about just getting rid of it, just tossing it out, but you were having a good time with Frankie, he was having a good time with you. You felt safe and it had been so long since you'd had a good night out you thought 'fuck it'.

Neither of you said anything as you began to creep away, bag still firmly scrunched into your fingers. Frankie tried to act casual, attempting to go back to focusing on the game as you snuck off to the toilet. He assumed you had gone to get rid of the coke, he never imagined you'd have some yourself.

You rushed into one of the stalls, quickly assessing how best to go about this. You decided that none of the surfaces were sanitary enough to do this properly. You sighed, half excited, half still berating yourself for stooping to this, as you took a seat on top of the toilet lid. You tucked your hair out of the way before opening up the baggy and tapping only a small amount of the white powder onto the back of your hand. You listened a second, making sure there was no one else in the bathroom with you. Silence. You quickly lifted the back of your hand to your nose, closing off one of the nasal passages and then sucking in all of the powder, with your intake of air, with the other.

You'd forgotten how awful it felt in that first moment, your nose burning. You coughed and continued sniffing as you attempted to clear the passage, waiting for the initial pain and discomfort to subside. It only took a moment for the rush of euphoria to set in. You resealed the bag, then wiped off any remaining remnants on your hands, before tucking the baggy back into your clutched fingers, hiding it, as you left the stall. You quickly checked yourself over in the mirror, self consciously wiping underneath your nose, then fixing any stray hairs.

As you went back out into the bar, the effects of the drug really started to settle in. Everything seemed shinier and brighter, happier. You made your way back over to Frankie who was stood leaning against his pool cue, awaiting your return.

He stared at you intensely, trying to work out what it was that you had done with the drugs. It was only when you came to a stop directly in front of him and he got a look at your eyes did he realised what you'd truly done. He found himself breaking out into a small smile of adoration, impressed by your courageousness, but it carried with it this underlining guilt in the pit of his stomach. That feeling of guilt though was quickly quashed altogether by another feeling as you pressed yourself close to him once again so you could discreetly put the little bag back in his pocket. You gave him a sly smile and that was it. That was the moment Frankie knew he was completely in love with you. You gave him a coy grin before reaching for your pool cue and continuing the game.

Watching the coloured balls dance across the table top when you hit them, felt so much more satisfying now. You didn't even care if you were losing as long as you got to keep watching the balls of colour roll back and forth across the table. You enjoyed your beer and your company, you and Frankie nudging each other and taking any chance possible to touch one another now you were both happy and relaxed. “Come on Morales.” you said as you placed your hands over his shoulders, giving them an over exaggerated massage like he was about to go into a fight. He tried to shrug you off so he could concentrate and sink his last ball. You stopped your movements but didn't take your hands away and both of you froze watching the ball intently as he took the shot. Clunk.

He stood up straight and whirled around, wrapping you in his arms, a big grin on his face. “You know I let you win right?” you teased him.

“Sure you did.” he said placing a kiss on top of your head before leaning back slightly so he could get a better look at your smile, his arm still firmly around your shoulder. He leaned back against the table, his legs spread apart slightly so you could rest between them. You were both smiling content in the embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away.

Frankie moved his hands to rest against your hips as he began to wrestle with the idea that had just popped into his head. He looked longingly to your lips, wanting to kiss them. Your smile faded as you scanned his face, realising what he was thinking. It was probably only 3 or 4 seconds but it felt so much longer due to the pace at which your next thoughts flooded your head. 'Oh my gosh, are we gonna kiss? What about Laura? Maybe they broke up? Oh I really want to kiss him.' then his lips were on yours and it was like someone had just set off a bunch of fireworks in your brain. Your head felt like it was fizzing and tingling, you couldn't help but smile as you melted into the kiss.

Frankie felt your lips pull tight against his as your smile burst from your lips and it only encouraged his own. He pulled away only briefly so you could both acknowledge how happy you were right then in that moment, but you quickly closed the gap again, practically throwing yourself into him, desperate to feel that tingling feeling in your brain again. At your enthusiasm, Frankie wasted no time deepening the kiss, his hands snaking down to your ass and pulling you tighter to him. This was everything he ever wanted, what he'd dreamed about for years now and it was finally happening. It felt better than he could have ever imagined it to be. Your kisses were powerful and hungry and for a moment you both almost forgot where you were.

Frankie quickly broke the kiss. You were about to protest when he took hold of your hand and started leading you to the door.

Neither of you said anything as he lead you to his truck. He gave you one more quick passionate kiss before opening the passenger side door to you and encouraging you to get in. You happily hopped in before turning back to give him another kiss as he closed the door.

He drove you both back to your place, using his spare key to let you both into the apartment. You had given each of the boys a spare key to your place just in case of emergencies but this was the first time you'd ever seen Frankie use his and it made you happy. The image of it felt so natural to you, like you were both coming home together after a long day.

You didn't have time to revel in the domesticity of it though as Frankie pulled you inside, rapidly closing the door before latching his lips back onto yours. You felt him lift you up into his arms and he carried you to your bedroom.

Your feet dropped back to the floor as you both made it through the doorway, Frankie wasting no time to start undressing you and himself between hungry kisses, both of your tongues fighting to pull each other back together after every break.

When you were both completely naked Frankie wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, lifting you slightly, walking you both towards the bed which you collapsed onto together, Frankie coming to lay on top of you. You reached your hands up into his hair as he covered your naked body with his own. It was only in that moment that you fully realised he hadn't been wearing his trademark hat this evening. You made a mental note of the actions significance and happily kept smiling and giggling into his kisses.

A sudden feeling took over in the pit of your stomach as you watched Frankie's gaze darken, his lust for you taking over at your joyful sounds and the way your naked body moved underneath him. You felt his hands move to your hips and he suddenly flipped you over onto your stomach before guiding your hips up so you were resting on your knees, your ass and pussy on full display for him. “Oh god.” Frankie groaned at the sight. “Hold it there baby, there's something I wanna do.”

You felt him get off the bed and heard him shuffle around on the floor for something. It took you a moment for your brain to realise what he was doing. He was rooting back into his pocket for the cocaine. You thought about saying something but decided not to for fear it would ruin the moment and this would all stop. This was Frankie. You had wanted this for so long and you were willing to put up with anything just to have his love and attention all to yourself.

You felt his hand smooth over your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh, giving it a squeeze before he let go. You shifted your head slightly so you could look back and watch him as he opened the little baggy and began gently patting the powder out of it, leaving a line of it across your right cheek. The dark look in his eyes as he stared at the sight made your knees want to go weak. He could sense the slight tremble within you, “Hold still for me baby.” he said as he took hold of you again, his hands firmly placed either side of your ass, holding you still. You closed your eyes, thinking if you didn't see what was about to happen, maybe you could act like it never did.

It all happened so quickly you didn't even have time to really take it in. Frankie quickly leant down, taking the powder up his nose, his tongue coming out to lick up any remaining powder before he thrust his face between your folds. You let out a startled squeal of pleasure as you felt Frankie's tongue dive straight in, catching you completely off guard. His patchy facial hair tickled your skin and you jerked back further towards his face, Frankie moaning in pleasure at the feeling.

He quickly pulled his mouth away, thrusting two fingers inside you instead, stretching you out and making sure you were ready. His fingers took a moment to explore your heat and you moaned as this thick fingers stroked your inner walls. You let out a groan when he took his fingers out and you were about to lift your head to turn and whine pathetically about it when he suddenly thrust his cock inside you.

“Oh fuck.” you cried out as you attempted to adjust to his size. He leant over you, his arm wrapping around your upper chest, pulling you to your hands. His head nuzzled into your neck, trying to get you to turn your head so he could kiss you. As you began to turn it towards him, his hand that had been holding your chest moved up to grasp your jaw, forcing your lips to his. He felt you clench around him as you reacted to the power move and he gently rolled his hips into you, your back arching, trying to encourage him even deeper.

He began pounding into you rapidly as he straightened himself up again. His grip on your hips was firm, holding you steady, pulling you back into him with every thrust. The feeling was overwhelming and the lingering effects of the cocaine only heightened everything more. “Oh my god baby, you feel so fucking good.” he praised you as your moans of pleasure rang out through the room.

You felt him lean forward again and you turned your head, seeking out his lips once more. “I've wanted this for so fucking long.” he grunted out between kisses. He almost melted when you moaned back into his lips in response to his words. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling your back into his chest again, making his rapid thrusts even deeper. He was hitting a certain spot inside you and it was devastating, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head as you relaxed it against his shoulder.

A feeling began to rise inside you. It felt so overwhelming and rapid you weren't even sure what was happening until it had already happened. Frankie felt your walls pushing back against him and when he thrust back he was forced out of you completely, your release gushing all over his cock and the bed. “Jesus fucking Christ did you just-” he couldn't even say the word. He was so fucking happy and impressed, but he saw the look of surprise on your face. He quickly crashed his lips into yours as he tried to reassure you that what had happened was a good thing. No a great thing. “Fucking do it again for me baby.” he said as he lined himself back up with your entrance and thrusted himself inside you once more.

You couldn't help but cry out, your mouth falling open against his. You felt so sensitive between your legs it didn't take much time at all before Frankie had you squirting again. “That's it, that's my girl. You're so fucking beautiful when you do that baby.” he said as he turned you around to face him. He could tell your eyes were unfocussed, completely blissed out from each devastating orgasm he was pulling from you.

He placed his hands either side of your head, smoothing your hair out of your face as he kissed it. He sat himself back on the bed, trying to avoid the wet patch on the sheets, pulling you to sit on top of him. He held you close as he pulled you back down onto his erection and you relaxed your head against his shoulder as he continued to smooth your hair. He began rocking you gently on top of him, letting you have a small break, both of you enjoying the moment of being close.

When you felt your strength coming back to you, you lifted your head from his shoulder, fixing your lips to his again. He lifted you in his arms, laying you back on the bed. He lifted your legs back, allowing him to push himself deeper inside you as his thrust began to pick up again.

You placed your hands either side of his head, forcing your eyes to focus on one another. “Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful.” he said, his forehead pressing into yours. You're mouth hung open again, your breaths coming out fast inbetween his thrusts, your moans stuttering wordlessly from your lips. He could tell your eyes were starting to become unfocussed again as your next orgasm built inside you.

He placed his hands under your hips, lifting them slightly allowing his thrusts to reach deeper still. The feeling inside you was devastating and your hand reached to rub circles over your clit, encouraging your release to come even faster. Once again Frankie felt himself being forced out from inside you as you once again gushed all over him and the bed, only this time he had a much better view. He was getting so close to his own climax and this only spurred him on even more. He barely gave you a moment to recover before he was thrusting himself back deep inside you.

His thrust were rapid as he chased his own finish and your fingers clawed at his back as you tried to ground yourself. Frankie let out a deep growl as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. His thrusts became sporadic, stuttering as he lifted his head to capture your lips in his own as he finished inside you. He stilled inside you and you relaxed into his arms as you felt every pulse of his cock inside you. It was a feeling that made you feel proud.

You looked up into his eyes. They were ones of complete bliss and adoration. You wanted to tell him you loved him but the words caught in your mouth so you settled for kissing him once more. This time the kiss was tender and not just because you were both exhausted. It said everything you both didn't feel like you could say. A silent acknowledgment of love.

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“Hey where are you going?” you asked him as he climbed from the bed an hour later and began pulling on his clothes.

“I gotta go.” he said as he shrugged on his t-shirt, unable to meet your eyes,

“Oh, okay.” you said, sitting up and curling your knees up to your chest. You watched him silently as your racing thoughts from the bar slowly started coming back to you. They were more prominent now in this post sex quiet. “Frankie.” your voice said tentatively. It was half broken as the reality of the situation set in and an ache began to form in your chest, along with a churning feeling in your stomach. He looked back at you, eyes sorrowful.

Frankie felt like he had just been punched in the gut. He could see the hurt behind your eyes and it killed him. He knew his love for you was so great and he hated that he was hurting you in this moment. He made his way across the room to you, his arms leaning on the bed either side of you as he leant down to kiss you. “I'm gonna make this right, I promise.” he said as you dipped your head away from him. He gave you a tender kiss on your fore head. “I'll text you in the morning.” he said before placing a hand under your chin, encouraging you to lift your head once more so he could give you a final kiss goodbye. You could only watch silently and helplessly from your bed as he turned and walked away. You practically flinched as you heard the front door close behind him, the sound echoing around your quiet apartment, the reality of your actions setting in. What the fuck had you done.

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True to his word, Frankie had indeed messaged you the following morning. There was no mention of Laura just an 'I really want to see you. Can I come over later.' You had of course said yes and you had both had a repeat of the night before, just this time with pizza and TV. You had wanted him to stay, but you also understood why he couldn't. He promised you he would soon though.

You had both carried on that way, the days turning into weeks. Wild nights turning into wild afternoons, always with the promise that at some point Frankie would break up with Laura and you would be together properly soon.

One week turned into two months and with every passing day your feelings for Frankie were growing stronger and stronger. You didn't care if he hadn't left Laura yet. You didn't care about the drugs, mostly because you could see he was using less and less when he was around you. You could see he was getting better. He was happier and shinier and you knew when he was ready he would end things with her and move in with you.

It was a Saturday evening when he turned up on your doorstep drunk and high and unable to get his key into the lock to let himself in. When you finally opened the door to him there were tears in his eyes. “Frankie?” his name fell from your lips as a question as he stumbled through the door. He made a beeline for your kitchen, searching the cupboards for more alcohol to drink.

You rushed over to him as you saw him pull a half full bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. He didn't even bother to get himself a glass, just started sipping it straight from the bottle. “Frankie, what the fuck is going on?” you asked as you snatched the bottle from his grasp.

“She's pregnant.” he choked out. Your face dropped, complete shock taking over.

“What?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Laura, she's pregnant.” he said again. His gaze wouldn't lift from a spot on the floor. There was silence between you as you both let the information settle in.

“What are you going to do?” you asked him tentatively.

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you.” he said again, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

“No-”

“I don't want to be with her-”

“Frankie she's carrying your kid.”

“I don't want to be with her, I want to be with you.” he said again stepping towards you, his hands outstretched reaching for you. You remained frozen to the spot as his hands rested either side of your face. “I love you. I don't love her, I want to be with you.”

“How long have you know?” you asked him, your voice cold. He was silent. “How long have you known?” you asked him again, your voice rising, becoming desperate.

“About a week.” he finally admitted. You stepped backwards, away from his touch, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Please baby, please-” he began to beg, trying to step forward and close the distance between you again but you kept stepping away, shaking your head in disbelief. “Please, you make me better. I'm better when I'm with you.” You turned away from him, leaving the room in an attempt to get away, panic rising up inside you.

“I'll tell her everything, I'll get help, I promise just please-”

“FRANKIE STOP!” you shouted, rounding on him. He finally fell silent, allowing you a moment to breathe, to think. “I can't do this anymore.” your voice said broken. “If you really loved me, if you were actually going to leave her you would have done it weeks ago when you said you would. If you didn't want to be with her, why were you still sleeping with her, why did you get her pregnant-”

“I don't even remember it.” his voice came back broken and his knees gave way, his back leaning against the open kitchen door. He was sobbing now.

“Frankie, you need help.” you said to him tenderly as you made your way towards him. You sat on the floor beside him, your head leaning on his shoulder. His head slumped against yours in defeat.

“How did I fuck this up so bad?” he asked you. You didn't answer. You didn't need to. “I wish I had a time machine, like that car in that movie, back to the future,,, or that hot tub in that stupid movie Benny made me watch.” he started, his voice calming. “I wish I could go back to when I first met you and tell you how I felt about you. I wish I had told you I loved you the moment I saw you. I wish I'd never let Will or Santiago have the chance to fuck you before I did. Maybe then you would be the one carrying my child right now and not her.”

You let his words hang in the air. You wished more than anything that things could be different right now but they weren't. Frankie had a drug addiction. He had cheated on his girlfriend with you. He had promised you he would leave her but he didn't. Instead he had gotten her pregnant. You had been willing to over look so much for Frankie but for your own sake you couldn't do it anymore. There was a child involved now and there was no way you were gonna hang around and make this situation more difficult for everyone. “I'm gonna go to Italy.” you told him. He looked at you lost.

You had gotten the call that morning. You had been wondering all day whether or not you should take the job but now you saw it as the only option you had. You both needed space. Frankie needed to be there for Laura, for his kid and you couldn't be here as a temptation for him. “My supervisor called this morning about a job in Italy. I think I'm gonna go. I think we both just need some space away from each other to clear our heads.”

“How long?”

“I don't know. Could be a couple of months, could be longer.”

“I love you.” he said again after a moments silence, hoping it would change your mind, hoping it would make you stay.

“Promise me you'll get help Frankie.” was all you said. You were on the next flight to Italy the following morning.

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