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#which is be very direct and straight up lie
heyclickadee · 4 months
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It’s still funny that, when it comes to the Tech situation, the Bad Batch trailer page on the Star Wars website just says that the batchers are, “now scattered following the events of season two.” Not that one of them is dead, not even that the squad is scattered following a devastating loss. Just that they’re scattered. And then it immediately moves in to talking about Ventress.
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shadebloopnik · 2 months
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Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.
Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.
Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.
He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-
So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.
It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.
He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.
Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.
But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.
So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.
Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."
Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.
What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????
"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.
But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.
"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."
Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.
Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.
"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"
Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.
Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??
(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)
Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.
"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."
He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.
So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.
Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.
But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.
Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.
Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.
They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.
As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.
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chvoswxtch · 2 years
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you gonna let me be good to you?
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: your little slip up forces you and frank to come to terms with your feelings for one another.
warnings: cursing, fluffy frank, mentions of blood (its frank babes), explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 9.7k
a/n: this one goes out to all my frankie lovers <3 I promised this a long time ago and i've literally been working on it for weeks but it didn't feel ~right~ until now. i'm a slut for soft frank, and frank in general, so here's 22 pages of just that. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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Frank Castle was not a man who was easily taken by surprise. He was used to having the upper hand, normally several steps ahead of everyone else, but even in a tight unexpected situation he was able to come out on top. There were very few things left in this world that shocked him anymore. After his time in the marines, and the reputation that preceded him as The Punisher, he had seen and done things most people couldn’t fathom in their wildest imaginations. 
Yet, here he was, staring down at his phone absolutely and completely dumbfounded. As much as he knew he should, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the picture displayed on the screen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The longer he stared at it, the more he felt his jeans becoming increasingly too tight. His eyes anxiously flickered between the photo, and the door he knew you were just on the other side of. For the first time in a long time, Frank didn’t know what to do. He was completely in shock..because you had just accidentally sent him a photo of yourself in lingerie.
Frank had stopped by your office and asked if you could send him some photos of a few documents that you had found at the library that contained confidential information related to a “case” he was working on. You opted to take photos instead of printing the documents, not wanting it to be tracked back to you or him. Frank had met you through Karen, you were her best friend, and you graciously helped him out from time to time. 
He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. He shouldn’t be staring. He should delete the photo and lie through his teeth saying he never got anything. He didn’t want you to be embarrassed. You two were friends, in a way he supposed. As much as anyone could really be Frank Castle’s friend. As soon as the door to your office swung open, Frank whipped his head up in the direction of your voice.
“Hey, did you get the photos? Sorry, I have terrible signal in here. I wanted to make sure you got them before you took off.”
Frank felt frozen. There was no doubt a light shade of pink coated the tops of his cheeks, which he knew he could easily blame on the heat in the building. But if he didn’t get the hell out of there fast, there would be little to no ignoring the effect the photo had on him. He could already feel all the blood in his body rushing straight downwards. Frank cleared his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you, turning his phone over in his hands timidly.
“I uh..think you sent me the wrong thing.”
The furrow of confusion in your brows and the adorable pout that formed on your lips made his cock twitch in his jeans. He let his mind wander for a moment as he thought about how pretty those full lips of yours would look wrapped around the head of his cock. He couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling down your body, now that he knew what was hiding underneath. He paid extra attention to how the fabric of your pencil skirt clung to your curvy hips, and the little taste of cleavage he caught from your blouse that dived into a v-shape just above the swell of your breasts. Fuck. Stop it.
“I didn’t send you the photos of documents?”
“No..you uh..sent me somethin’ else. Somethin’ that uh..wasn’t..meant for me.”
Frank should’ve stopped you from checking your phone to see just what he was talking about. He should’ve brushed it off, told you not to worry and to just send the photos when you had a minute, and gotten the hell out of there. But another part of him was curious about your reaction to your mishap. As you unlocked your phone to check your previous messages with Frank, a sharp gasp suddenly left your lips and your hand flew up to cover your mouth. Your doe eyes were blown wide open as you stared down at Frank in panic. 
“Oh my god, Frank..I-I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I can’t believe I sent you that. I..I’m so..I’m so sorry.”
“S’alright. Honest mistake. I just uh..knew it wasn't for me. Thought you should..be aware, I guess.”
He had to look away. He couldn’t handle the sight of you biting your lip, even if it was innocent. All it did was fuel the sinful thoughts berating around in his head. Sure, he’d always thought you were pretty, even from the moment you two first met. But he never thought more of it. He never thought about you like that until now. Now that he had seen what your body looked like covered in thin black lace. You weren’t exactly naked in the photo, but it damn sure left nothing to the imagination. It awoke something within Frank he was having difficulty taming.
“It..it wasn’t for anyone really.”
You weren’t sure why you said that. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You knew why. You wanted him to know those photos weren’t for anyone in particular. That no other man had seen that. Frank’s head cocked to the side at your confession, eager for you to continue but staying quiet.
“I..um..that was for Karen.”
If Frank’s cock wasn’t throbbing before, it definitely was now. His eyes widened in surprise, and you must have been able to read his thoughts at that very moment, because you rolled your eyes playfully and giggled as your full lips split into a playful grin.
“Not..not like that, Castle. We just..got drunk one night and somehow got on the topic of lingerie and..I told her I’d never owned any before and..um..wanted to know what it felt like..to wear it. So, she talked me into buying some. We actually bought the same set, hers is pink. But we didn’t remember any of that. So when it came in, Karen sent me a picture of hers and asked how mine looked so I um..sent her one back.”
Frank was thanking any God that was listening that he had brought a backpack today, and that it was currently conveniently placed over his prominent bulge. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was about what you had just said that was driving him absolutely mad. He couldn’t pinpoint if it was the fact that you had taken a photo like that to send to Karen, or the fact that he was the only person besides Karen that had ever seen that photo. That he was the only man that had seen you all dressed up like that. A sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him, and he knew he had to snap out of it. The room felt like it was shrinking and he could feel sweat starting to form along his hairline. He had to get the fuck out of that office. Away from you.
“Oh..well..uh..again, no worries. It..looks nice. Just uh, send me the photos when ya get a minute? Gotta..go meet a guy. Thanks again.”
Frank was on his feet in a flash and bolting out the door without another word, leaving you there stunned by his reply. His boots thudded heavily against the steps with every furious step he took, swearing at himself along the way.
“Fuckin’ idiot. ‘Looks nice’? Seriously? That’s the best you could fuckin’ come up with? You dumb motherfucker.”
Frank paused at the bottom of the steps, waging an internal moral war within himself. Part of him wanted to turn around, march right back up to your office, tell you what he really thought about the picture, then bend you over your desk and fuck you six ways from Sunday. But he knew better. He couldn’t get involved with you. He couldn’t get involved with anyone. 
»»———  ———««
It had been two weeks since you had heard from Frank. That wasn’t totally unusual. Frank was known to disappear for weeks, even months at a time, then would show back up when he needed something. You had met him several months ago through Karen. You had drunkenly confessed your crush on the big, bad Punisher to her. You knew she had a weird, complicated friendship with Frank. Karen was your best friend, and you two shared a lot of familiar trauma and a complicated moral compass. You both felt like you could understand Frank’s motives, subtly justifying his actions to no one but each other. That was why she knew she could trust you with him.
Seven months ago, Frank had showed up at your door at one-thirty in the morning, completely covered in blood. To say you were surprised was an understatement. Your shock must have been clearly written all over your features when you answered the door to find none other than Frank Castle leaning against the doorway, face covered in fresh bruises and gashes that were dripping with molasses of deep crimson. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he grunted and nodded his head towards you.
“Karen said you were a friend. Knew your way ‘round a first aid kit.”
All the pieces started to slowly come together in your head. Karen was out of town for a conference with the Bulletin. Frank must have come looking for her, and she had most likely redirected him to you in her absence, knowing that you would help him. Frank looked somewhat..nervous? His dark eyes trailed over you with uncertainty, clearly still unsure how trustworthy you were. He must have either been desperate or in a lot of pain to bite the bullet and follow Karen’s instructions to find you. Blinking away your stunned expression, you willed your foggy brain to clear up as you swung your door open wider and held your trembling hand out towards him.
“Oh..yeah, sorry. I..I wasn’t expecting anyone. Um..come in. What uh..what do you need?”
That was the first time you had patched up Frank. Your hands shook slightly with trepidation, due to the fact that Frank was hurt badly and you didn’t want to make it worse, but also due to the fact that you were face to face with the Frank Castle for the first time. Pictures didn’t do him justice. He didn’t make small talk, not that you really expected him to. He sat there silently, grunting every now and then as you stitched him back together and cleaned his various wounds, all the while watching you with complete scrutiny. When he finally passed out from either blood loss or exhaustion, you stayed up all night curled up in the chair across from the small couch his body had completely overtaken. If you hadn’t been so stressed, you might have laughed at the sight of his large body dangling off your tiny couch. 
You checked his breathing every twenty minutes, only stopping after two hours when his large hand darted out to grab onto your wrist carefully. His touch was rough and warm, a juxtaposition you welcomed eagerly. Your eyes widened slightly at just how large his hand was compared to your own, completely covering your fingertips up to the beginning of your forearm. Your breath hitched in your throat as he opened his eyes to look up at you, the moonlight filtering through your curtains illuminating a sliver of his hardened features. An achingly beautiful mosaic of purples and blues were scattered over his face where bruises had begun to bloom like the first day of spring. There was a tiny glint of reverence in his obsidian eyes that nearly knocked the breath out of you.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re hurt, and I really don’t want you to die in my living room.”
“You doubtin’ your own work, doc?”
“I..I’m not a doctor, Frank. Nor any version of a licensed medical professional. I’m an editor for fucks sake. I read manuscripts for a living. I just happen to know my way around a first aid kit because I have three fearless and extremely reckless younger brothers.”
That was the first time, and one of the only times, you ever saw Frank Castle smile. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into the ghost of a miniscule grin. You wanted it to last forever. But as most things with Frank, it was fleeting, and as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. His large hand gently squeezed at your wrist before letting go. You hated how quickly you already missed the brief contact.
“I ain’t gonna die. Trust me, I’ve had worse. Get some sleep.”
“Frank-”
“Karen trusts you. So do I.”
»»———  ———««
And that was typically how it went over the next few months. If Karen was out of town or busy with a deadline, Frank came to you. Sometimes, he came straight to you anyway, grumbling some excuse about Karen being wrapped up in something. It made your heart swell with pride that you had won Frank’s trust, and that sometimes he came to you just because he wanted to. That he considered you two something along the lines of friends. There were moments that made you question if there was room for more than that. Frank always guided you to the opposite side of the sidewalk when you were out, taking the spot closest to the street himself. Sometimes he placed his large hand carefully on your lower back to usher you in the correct direction if you weren’t paying enough attention to where you were walking, the gentle act sending your brain into a frenzy. He even memorized your coffee order, although he would always insult it and scoff before giving it to you. “You ever try gettin’ any actual coffee with all that sweet shit?” You had tried several times to work up the courage to flirt with him in a way that was light enough it could be played off as banter, but you were never brave enough.
You supposed you could chalk all those little moments up to him just being a gentleman, and anything else you had derived had been a figment of your own imagination. Frank was a stoic, broody, incredibly intimidating man. He was never mean to you, of course. He had never been anything but gentle with you. Still, you were afraid. You could never gauge what he was feeling unless it was anger. He was extremely difficult to read, and he didn’t talk more than he had to. Frank was also a very complicated man, still very clearly in mourning of what he had lost. It felt wrong to invade on that. 
You thought you would eventually get used to the sight of him shirtless, or only in boxers. But unfortunately for you, that day never came. As a matter of fact, every time you saw him begin to shred his torn and bloodied clothes, it only made the ache between your thighs that much more unbearable. He was absolutely captivating. Every inch of muscle was defined perfectly, from his broad shoulders down to the delicious v lines that disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs. Frank’s arms were bigger than your head, and his hands..God you loved his hands. You wanted to know what they felt like wrapped around your throat, digging into your hips, palming at your chest. You didn’t turn your eyes away from the scars that were scattered across his skin, but they did send fresh cracks throughout your heart every time they were on display. You wanted to trace your fingertips over them, and gently kiss every single one of them away. You knew the scars that covered his skin were nothing compared to the ones you couldn’t see.
There was one night you thought you had finally been caught. Your hands were shaking, not because you were nervous or because the gash on Frank’s hip was really bad, but because he was so close to you, closer than he had ever been. You were on your knees right beside him while he laid back on the couch, arm propped up behind his head showcasing his bulging bicep. Your palm was flat against his lower abdomen, right above the waistband of his briefs, as your other carefully stitched his torn flesh back together.
His dick was essentially staring you in the face beneath the thin fabric and it made it hard to focus. Everytime you moved in closer to Frank, your heart pounded so hard against your ribcage you were certain he could hear it in the silence. Feeling the warmth radiating from the proximity to his skin, skimming the taut muscle under your fingertips, smelling the scent of his musky cologne that filled your small apartment for days even after he left, it drove you wild. Frank chuckled deeply as he placed his large hand completely over yours, tearing your unfiltered attention back to his face.
“You keep shakin’ like that, you’re gonna stab me. I’ve had my fill of bein’ stabbed for one evenin’.”
“I..Sorry.”
“S’alright. I just need ya to relax for me, can ya do that?”
Your mouth went dry at his words. You knew he hadn’t meant for them to sound so suggestive, but it stirred something deep within you. You would do fucking anything that man asked. Letting out a deep breath, you pushed your selfish thoughts to the back of your mind and licked your lips, nodding your head slowly.
“Yeah..yeah, I-I’m sorry. This one’s just..it’s pretty bad, Frank.”
“I’ll live. Take your time, darlin’.”
Oh. That was new. The tone of Frank’s voice was so soft and gentle in comparison to the usual gruffness of it that it made you almost wanna cry. You had never heard him talk to anyone that way, not even Karen. Frank was never aggressive or demanding with you, but he usually wasn’t so soft spoken either. He had certainly never called you anything other than your name before. Frank’s voice was another thing you loved. It was so rough and coarse, the deep bass of it traveled straight to your core every time he spoke.
“Ya’know, we were trained to do this shit. Never know when you gotta piece someone back together while shit’s explodin’ around ya. We were trained for months, ya’know?. I tell ya, first time I ever had to stitch one of my guys up, I was scared shitless. It’s easy to prepare to do somethin’, but ya never actually know what it’s gonna be like ‘til you do.”
That was one of the few times Frank had ever opened up about his past to you, clueing you in to the Frank that might still be there under all the jagged layers of pain and trauma. It made you smile, that he felt comfortable enough to share that with you, like you had won over another small piece of him. A tiny victory. 
“It’s really hard for me to imagine you being scared.”
“I’m still human. Sure, I get scared sometimes. Not as much these days, ya’know. Not as much to lose.”
»»———  ———««
Unbeknownst to you, Frank had spent every single night of the past two weeks with one hand wrapped viciously around his cock and the other death gripped onto his phone with your risque picture on display. He knew it was wrong. He knew he should feel bad about it. Frank really did try to get that picture out of his head. He took cold shower after cold shower, cleaned every single gun in his collection twice, and even tried to take his frustrations out on the unlucky fucks that dared to get in his way. But it was no use. The swell of his cock refused to go down until he paid it some attention. It was relentless and Frank was desperate.
It was supposed to just happen once. Frank was supposed to get it out of his system, delete the picture, and move on. But every night he found a reason not to get rid of it. Every night, he had an excuse. He felt like a raging, horny teenager all over again, fucking his hand into the mattress of the motel bed every night to the sight of you in the barely there black lace, imagining what you would feel like wrapped around him. Frank hadn’t touched himself in weeks, had been too busy and focused to cater to his own needs. But wild imaginations of you had him feeling like he was going to fucking explode if he couldn’t give himself some relief. Throughout the day he was ansty, even more irritable than usual, hardly able to fucking sit still as he thought about what was waiting for him once he got back to his room.
It wasn’t just the picture that preoccupied his mind. Frank felt like he was fucking consumed with you. He found himself thinking about you constantly, wondering how your day at work was, if you were safe, what book you had your nose in this week, what latest bakery treat you were trying your hand at. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, you had grown on him immensely. He made excuses for himself when he would opt to visit you instead of Karen. He tricked himself into believing that Karen was busy instead of facing the truth that he just wanted to see you. Just wanted to hear your laugh when he said something you thought was funny. Just wanted to borrow another book from your collection to get a glimpse into your mind. Just wanted to pretend to be a burden when you offered to let him stay for dinner because it was the only fucking sense of normalcy he had these days. Just wanted to feel your soft touch on his skin as you carefully mended all of the parts of him that were torn and broken, even the parts you couldn’t see.
That picture shed a light on something that Frank had been desperately trying to ignore since the moment he met you and experienced your undeserved kindness. A feeling Frank swore he would never, and could never, encounter again. Part of him felt guilty. How could he be infatuated with another woman when he was still waist deep in revenge for the one he lost? The other part of him could no longer deny how badly he wanted you. That curtain had been pulled back, a glaring spotlight on everything Frank had tried to hide from these past few months. There was no more pretending.
Frank had a choice to make. It was either give in, or let you go. For good. His struggles with his feelings for you were beginning to get in the way of his work and if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna make a mistake in a big way. He had to make a choice, and fast, consequences be damned.
»»———  ———««
You had just finished getting out of a steamy shower, humming softly to yourself as you rubbed your favorite velvet amber and patchouli scented lotion all over your damp skin. After letting your hair down from the messy knot on top of your head, you put on a pair of silky sleep shorts and a tank top, slipping a pair of fuzzy socks onto your feet. You continued to hum as you padded through the open living room to the kitchen that was connected, not even noticing the dark figure sitting in the corner that was silently observing you. As you reached for a wine glass from the cabinet, a deep voice cut through the quiet and burst your blissful ignorance. 
“You really need a security system.”
You jumped with a squeal at the sound of the voice, instantly whipping around to face the dark figure with widened eyes. You had a few candles burning on the coffee table that cast an ambient golden glow over your apartment. You had planned a relaxing evening for yourself and decided not to run up your electricity bill when you had so many candles that you had been excited to burn. Your heart beat frantically in your chest as you squinted your eyes, trying to make out the silhouette in the corner.
“S’just me, darlin’. Don’t freak out.”
“Frank?”
“Didn’t even reach for a knife or nothin’. Thought I taught you better than that.”
A deep, breathy sigh of relief sounded from you as Frank slowly stood and took a few steps forward into the dim light, his large frame finally coming into view. You rubbed your palms over your face slowly, feeling your nerves start to settle now that there was not in fact an intruder in your apartment.
“Jesus, Frank. You nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. Why didn’t you make any noise when you came in?”
Frank stared at you silently, an unreadable expression plastered over his face. For a moment, he heavily regrets not alerting you that he was here while you were in the shower. Maybe you wouldn’t be wearing those tiny little shorts and a tank top with no bra. He grinds his teeth as he takes in your appearance. He can still see little droplets of water gliding down your collarbones, soaking into the fabric of your tank top. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders in loose waves, and your cheeks were still twinged pink from the heat of the shower. He can smell the scent of your lotion over all the burning candles, and it made his fingers twitch at his sides. 
“Sorry. Tried to holler, but don’t think ya heard me over the shower.”
That was a lie. He had knocked though, and then began to panic when you didn’t answer. It was late on a Saturday, so he knew you weren’t at work. The thought briefly crossed his mind that you could be on a date, but he furiously pushed that to the back of his mind as he fished for his spare key to your place and shoved the door open. His right hand flew to the gun tucked into the belt of his jeans, ready to shoot at whoever as his eyes darted rapidly around your apartment. He only stilled when he heard the sound of running water and the melodic tune of your voice as you sang some fucking pop song he didn’t recognize.
Frank had quietly shut the door, securing both locks into place before taking a seat in the chair in the corner of the room. He closed his eyes and relaxed back against the chair as he listened to you sing in the shower. It was a complete invasion of privacy, but definitely not the worst one he had committed when it came to you. Frank thought you sounded like an angel. He wanted to hear you sing more. Maybe he’d play guitar for you, if you’d sing along. Your voice caused a wave of calm to wash over him that he hadn’t felt in weeks. Although, it was short lived when he heard the water cut off and quickly had to come up with an excuse as to why he was sitting in the dark waiting for you.
You hadn’t noticed the way Frank was looking at you since your eyes were too busy scanning over his entire body for injuries. You tilted your head to the side, brows knit together quizzically as you made your way over to stand in front of him. Normally when Frank showed up like this, he was bloody, and there were wounds to be cleaned or stitched. But you didn’t see anything. No cuts. No scrapes. No bruises. No gashes or bullet holes from what you could tell. Not a single piece of his hair was even out of place. You dipped your head back to stare up at Frank in bemusement.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? I..I don’t see any holes.”
You smiled at your own little stupid joke, but it quickly faltered when you took in the look on his face. Frank had begun to give in a little to your lame attempts to make him laugh, granting you mercy and offering the faintest of smiles or chuckles in response. But he wasn’t smiling, or laughing. His strong jaw was set in a hard line, and his expression was stony. There was something in his eyes though..something unfamiliar you had never seen before.
“I’m fine.”
Both of you stared at one another silently for what felt like hours. You began to feel uneasiness seep into your bones, feeling suddenly even smaller under his harsh gaze. Frank was huge, physically and height-wise. He always towered a good foot over you, which never made you feel unsettled until right now. He looked almost..mad? In that moment, you felt for everyone that had ever been on the receiving end of this menacing look. They didn’t have the luxury of knowing Frank Castle wouldn’t hurt them. Not like you did. Swallowing thickly, you took a shaky breath and spoke softly.
“So..if you don’t need patching up..what do you need, Frank?”
“To confess.”
Frank’s voice had dipped an impossible octave deeper and it caused you to shiver along with sending a flood of wetness between your thighs. You tried not to focus so much on his voice and instead on his words, feeling even more perplexed as they settled in your ears. You tilted your head slightly to the side as you stared up at him curiously.
“I..I’m not sure I’m the best person for the job. I’m not religious, Frank. You know that.”
“Yeah, but you’re the closest thing to an angel I’ve ever seen. Besides, it ain’t that kinda confession.”
Your heart thudded loudly in your ears and you felt warmth creeping onto your face, settling into a deep rosy tint that covered the expanse of your cheekbones. Your lips parted in surprise at his words. Frank had never said anything to you like that before. You had no idea where this was coming from, but you desperately wanted to find out.
“Oh..well..I’m not a cop either.”
“I know that, smartass.”
There was an edge to Frank’s voice that submissed you into silence. He wasn’t in the mood for games or playful banter. This was uncharted territory for you. Frank hadn’t been so impassive since the first night you met him, but he had also never spoken in such a harsh tone to you. It caused you to take a step back, and some kind of recognition flashed in Frank’s eyes about his slip. He wasn’t angry with you. He was angry with himself. He dipped his head for a moment, letting out a deep sigh through his nose before meeting your gaze again with a slightly softer expression.
“I need to confess somethin’ to you, personally.”
You didn’t know whether to speak or not, so you kept quiet, staring up into his dark ebony eyes and trying to find something, anything you could use to decipher his cryptic words. But he gave nothing away. Frank had an excellent poker face. There was nothing there but the emotion that was burning brightly in his stare that you still couldn’t identify. Frank squared his shoulders, bracing himself for whatever reaction you were about to have. It was now or never.
“I didn’t delete it.”
You blinked a few times as you tried to process his words, racking your brain for anything that would make them make sense. Confusion settled onto your features as you waited for Frank to continue, but he didn’t. He just stared at you in anticipation.
“What?”
“The picture. I didn’t delete it.”
It felt like your brain was swiveling back and forth as you tried to keep up. You had been so busy with work the past few weeks, and worrying about Frank, that you had almost forgotten about the photo you had accidentally sent him. Once that lightbulb went off in your head, your eyes widened slightly, lips parting to form an “o” shape, but you still didn’t speak. You had no idea what to say. You were still trying to process what he just said. Why did he say that? What did he mean?
“Oh.”
Frank’s hard stare shifted from your eyes to your full lips, trying to get a reading on what was going through your head. You typically wore all of your emotions, and normally that always helped clue him in to what you were feeling, but right now he couldn’t fucking tell. He could see the scarlet coating your cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, anger or..something else. But that one simple word you uttered had completely taken him by surprise. His dark brows furrowed as they knit in the middle of his forehead, staring down at you in bewilderment.
“That’s it?”
“I..don’t really know what to say.”
“You ain’t mad?”
“Why?”
Frank cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. He had prepared himself for a million different reactions from you. He had rehearsed an apology speech, was gonna let you use him as your own personal punching bag, nearly wore a goddamn bulletproof vest just in case. But this..was not in the realm of his expectations.
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“Why did you keep it?”
Frank paused for a moment. Maybe there was a chance to salvage this. He could lie. He could say he just forgot about it, realized his mistake, and wanted to apologize. But you didn’t look mad that he kept it. You looked..intrigued. You weren’t yelling at him, calling him a pervert and tossing him out of your apartment, so he decided to press his luck and take it a step further. Fuck it.
“Because I thought you looked fucking beautiful in it.”
Frank’s words nearly knocked the breath right out of your lungs. You were having a hard time processing them, even as they echoed loudly in your ears over and over again. That fire that was burning in his predatory gaze was now roaring loudly, setting you ablaze along with it once realization set in. It wasn’t anger swirling around in Frank’s eyes, it was lust. 
You had to be dreaming. This had to be a dream. There was no way Frank Castle himself was here, standing in front of you, telling you he thought you were beautiful. Your brain wouldn’t accept it. This had to be some sick, twisted trick your mind was playing on you. Warmth spread between your thighs like wildfire at his admission, the wetness already there doing nothing to put it out. Frank’s stare was unwavering. He wouldn’t tear his eyes away from you. As if he could sense your apprehension, he took a bold step forward and hooked his index finger under your chin, tilting your head back so that you had to look up at him.
“C’mon, darlin. Talk to me. Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours. ”
“I..I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“You think I’m pretty.”
Frank chuckled lightly, brushing the calloused pad of his thumb experimentally over your cheekbone in a soothing manner. 
“No, I said I think you’re beautiful.”
“Why?”
“The hell you mean ‘why’?”
You couldn’t think of an answer. You couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of Frank lightly dragging his thumb slowly along the edge of your bottom lip, his gaze dropping just for a moment to linger on your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact, reveling in the sensation of his touch on you for once. 
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
Your eyes instantly flew open at his gruff words, and a tiny smirk curled onto the corner of his mouth at your obedience. Cupping your cheek gently, he took a slight step forward to close the gap between you, placing his other hand gingerly on your lower back. He pulled you in languidly until you were flush against him, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort, but he didn’t find any. You melted into his touch, leaning your face into his rough palm like you had dreamed of so many nights before. You weren’t pulling away. You weren’t telling him to leave. You weren’t angry. You wanted this too.
“Atta girl. You been so damn good to me these past few months, sweetheart. You gonna let me be good to you?”
You sighed softly at his words, nodding your head eagerly as your hands flew up to grip tightly onto the collar of his black denim jacket. As you stood up on your tiptoes to capture his lips, both of his large hands grasped onto your waist to keep you in place as he stared down into your eyes with a shake of his head.
“I need words, sweet girl. C’mon, needa hear it. Tell me you want this too.”
“I want it, Frank. Please..please.”
That was all the affirmation Frank needed to crash his lips onto yours like violent waves in a perilous storm. The kiss was hungry and desperate, and you found yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He was everywhere but you felt like you couldn’t be close enough. You fervently shoved the worn denim down his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly onto the floor beneath as your fingers attempted to work on the buttons on his shirt. Frank chuckled against your mouth as he broke the kiss, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his large hands.
“Easy baby, we got all night.”
“But-”
“Shh. Let me take care of you for once, yeah?”
Before you could register what was happening, Frank had wrapped his strong arms around your waist and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, crossing the small space of your apartment in short strides towards your bedroom. You half expected him to toss you down onto the mattress, and were pleasantly surprised when he carefully sat you down on the edge of your bed. You dipped your head back to stare up at him in wonder.
Anticipation buzzed throughout your veins and you felt your breath hitch in your throat when Frank slowly kneeled down in front of you to be eye level with you. His large hands came down to rest on your bare thighs, squeezing gently to get your attention.
“The second I do somethin’ you don’t like, you let me know. At any point you change your mind, or wanna stop, tell me. I won’t be mad. Understand?”
Nodding your head fervently, you surged forward and grasped Frank’s face in your hands, hungrily chasing the taste of his lips. He chuckled against your mouth, tearing himself away which caused you to whine softly as he gently grabbed your wrists.
“C’mon, honey. What’d I tell ya? Need your words. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand Frank just..please..kiss me.”
You didn’t care how needy and desperate you sounded. Months and months of built up frustration were making you more impatient than usual. You had been dreaming about this for so long, and it was finally happening. You found yourself momentarily suspended in belief that Frank actually thought there was anything he could do that you wouldn’t absolutely love. 
“Yes ma’am.”
Frank settled on his knees in between your thighs, grabbing onto the back of your head as his other hand found its home on your waist. Your lips were incredibly soft and tasted of that pink grapefruit chapstick that you were always wearing. As he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, you meekly whined, and the sound went straight to his cock. Frank was caught in tandem between wanting to take his time and worship every inch of you and wanting to be selfish and finally bury himself to the hilt inside of you.
This time when your timid fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt, he didn’t stop you. He decided to let you set the pace, and would only go as far as you wanted. He tore his hands away from you only for a brief moment as you pushed the shirt over his broad shoulders, instantly returning his touch to every spare expanse of your skin he could find to ground himself to reality. You were here, and you wanted him. 
Your fingertips brushed against every curve of muscle, every raised and indented scar like you had done so many times before, but this time with renewed vigor. Frank’s skin was always so warm and you savored every ember of his heat. His fingertips cautiously slipped under the hem of your tank top, dancing over the exposed skin of your hips as he brought his lips near your ear.
“Can I take this off, honey?”
“Yes.”
You were surprised at how quickly you were able to answer. Lifting your arms above your head, you let Frank tug the soft fabric upwards, letting out a soft hiss when the chill in the room nipped at your exposed chest. Frank’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you nearly naked before him, a low groan emitting in the back of his throat. He didn’t hesitate to lean in and latch his mouth around one of your peaked nipples causing a soft moan to tumble from your lips. The warmth of his mouth contrasted so sharply with your cold bedroom that it had your head spinning. You arched your back to grant your chest fully to Frank, becoming a whimpering mess as his large hand fondled your breast and played with your other nipple. You gripped onto the back of his neck, growing wetter by the second from his delectable assault on your chest.
“Frank..please..”
“What is it baby? What do ya need, hm? Tell me what ya need, I’ll give you anything. Anything you fuckin’ want.”
“Please touch me.”
You should be embarrassed at how breathy you sounded, already so worked up from so little. But that was just the effect Frank had on you, and he fucking loved it. He loved how responsive you were to his touch, and his words. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your little shorts and panties, giving the elastic on both a faint tug.
“Gotta take these off. Gonna let me do that, hm?”
“Please.”
Frank thought he was gonna cum in his pants just from the way you were already begging for him. He had barely even touched you yet, and his excitement only grew for how you would react when he finally did. In a flash, you were completely bare before him, and Frank thought you were the most beautiful fucking thing he had ever seen. Leaning in closer, his broad shoulders spread your thighs further apart to give him a better view of your glistening cunt, and he was fucking done for.
“Fuck sweetheart. You been like this the whole fuckin’ time?”
You shuddered at the ravenous look in Frank’s eyes as he zeroed in on your soaked pussy. The wetness that had accumulated since his confession had grown unbearable, and you just needed him to do something. Anything. 
“Everytime you’re around.”
Frank’s eyes darkened considerably as they flickered up towards your face, a wicked glint dancing around in his irises. 
“That right?”
Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you nodded your head quickly, feeling heat spreading even further throughout your thighs.
“My poor girl. That’s just fuckin’ mean of me, ain’t it? You take such good care of me, and I leave you like this. Fuckin’ cruel of me. You gonna let me take care of you now?”
Frank's large hands slowly inched up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the tops of them. He stared you down intently as he braced his palms on your inner thighs, spreading you open completely for him. Raising his hand up slowly, he hovered his thumb over your clit as he waited for your answer. 
“Please, Frank.”
“Atta girl.”
The contact of his rough thumb pressing against your clit had you jolting upwards, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth without warning. Frank gripped onto your hip to keep you steady, using his index finger to collect some of your slick before starting to rub slow, purposeful circles around your clit. You moaned at the relief you felt when he touched you, grabbing onto one of his shoulders to tug him in closer. Frank fucking loved the way you sounded, and he wanted more of it. He slowly increased his speed, applying more pressure here and there before slowly slipping his index finger inside of you. He took a moment to gather himself at how tight you felt around just his finger, his cock twitching in his jeans at the thought of how easily he could ruin you for any other man.
“There we go, that’s my good girl. Go on, move those hips. Just like that baby. C’mon sweetheart, take what you need.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips against Frank’s hand, watching the way his arm flexed everytime he pushed his finger back inside your greedy pussy. He followed your movements like the tide chasing the moon, pushing back wherever you pulled. A louder moan rang throughout your otherwise silent apartment when he added a second finger, curling them both upon exit in a beckoning manner that had your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. He hadn’t even fucked you, and you were ruined. You would never be able to touch yourself again. You would never be as good as Frank. No one would.
“Doin’ so fuckin’ well for me, baby. Knew you would. Look so beautiful like this. Gonna let me taste you, hm? Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet.”
Frank didn’t bother to wait for you to answer this time. The alluring noises you made were enough for him to pull you further to the edge of the bed by your hips, diving in to devour you completely. A silent cry hung in your throat when he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit and began to suckle, all the while still driving his thick fingers inside you at unexplored depths. You were hanging on the edge by a thread, trying your hardest to will away your orgasm so he would keep his head between your thighs forever. Your fingers weaved through his dark tresses, loving how good he looked with his hair slightly grown out, but loving even more that you had something to pull on. 
Frank hummed at your taste. He fucking growled against your pussy and the vibrations had your thighs shaking around his head. You tried to give him a warning, but there was no time. You couldn’t find your voice. The second he started flicking his tongue over your sensitive nub at an inhuman pace while curling his fingers against that spongy spot inside you, you were coming apart and Frank was there to collect every drop. Your inner thighs burned from the abrasiveness of his stubble, but you welcomed it eagerly. If anything, it was at least one reminder that tonight had been real.
Frank didn’t stop his assault on your clit as you rode out your high on his fingers, continuing to lap up everything that you had to offer. You whimpered due to the sensitivity from your commanding orgasm, trying to push at Frank’s broad shoulders to get him to budge, but the stubborn fucker wouldn’t move. You could feel him grinning against your core, hear him chuckling softly at your whines and pleas. He was enjoying this. 
“God Frank, please. Please..I need a minute.”
Reluctantly, Frank leaned back and licked the rest of your release from his lips. You stared down at him breathlessly, wanting to commit every single detail of the sight before you to memory. His mouth and chin were still gleaming with your release, dark eyes wild and blown out, hair disheveled from your incessant tugging, and broad chest rising and falling quickly as he attempted to catch his breath. But the thing that stole the breath right out of your lungs was that Frank was smiling. Not a crooked one that took up the corner of his mouth, not his usual cocky smirk. A full on, mouth split wide open, all teeth on display, eyes crinkling at the corners, smile. If you hadn’t been so dazed out in bliss, you might have cried at the sight of it.
“You alright?”
“You’re smiling.”
“Hell yeah I’m smilin’. Just made my pretty girl come, and she tastes like fuckin’ heaven. What’s not to smile about?”
A blush crept on your cheeks at his words, causing you to mirror the grin that had taken over his mouth. 
“I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”
Frank raised up off his knees, leaning over the bed and placing both of his large hands on either side of your head as he looked down at you so tenderly, it made your stomach flip and nervousness settle in your ribcage. The look in his eyes felt so..intimate. 
“Ain’t had a reason to. Until you.”
Grabbing onto the back of Frank’s neck, you pulled him down to mold your lips together in a passionate kiss. You wanted him to feel everything. You wanted more. This kiss was different from the ones before. It was more patient and evocative, a silent understanding between you and Frank. Your fingertips trailed down the expanse of his chest until you reached the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather from the confinements and popping open the button of his jeans. His lips migrated along your jaw and down your neck, sucking softly at the juncture just above your collarbone.
His large hand wrapped around your throat, not tightly, but just to keep you close. His teeth skimmed along your neck as you tugged down his zipper, pushing his jeans and briefs down his hips to set him free. Frank let out a grateful groan when his cock slapped against his stomach, pulling back just for a moment to shred the layers of fabric completely. You clenched around nothing at the sight of him naked above you. God, he was beautiful. You greedily accepted his kiss once again when he settled his hips between yours, reaching between your bodies to carefully wrap your hand around his base, eliciting a delicious moan from his throat.
Frank was hard, and looked painfully so. You smoothed your thumb over the leaking tip of his cock, causing his hips to jerk forward slightly. He was incredibly thick and long, feeling unbelievably heavy in your small hand.
“Shit. Feels even better than I imagined.”
Your eyes darted up to meet Frank’s at his quiet confession, searching the midnight pools intently as a tiny smirk tugged at your lips.
“Frank Castle. You’ve thought about me touching you like this?”
There wasn’t even a shred of shame in Frank’s eyes as he stared down at you with a wolfish grin, leaning in to brush his nose along yours as you continued to stroke him slowly.
“Might’ve left out the part where I’ve been gettin’ off to that picture you sent me every night the past couple weeks.”
Your mouth dropped open and your eyes went wide, a hearty laugh rumbling deep within Frank’s chest.
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“I thought you’d be mad.”
“Do I look mad?”
“No, and I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re not. Thought I was gonna have to say goodbye to you tonight.”
Frank carefully pried your hand off of him and replaced it with his own, rubbing the head of his cock between your slick folds and teasing your clit every time he did so. Your brows furrowed at his words, but the second you felt the weight of him rubbing against your still sensitive clit, you gasped sharply. Gripping onto his bicep, you struggled through the pleasure to keep your eyes open. You weren’t letting those words go so easily.
“Why would you say that Frank?”
Frank hated that he could hear the hurt that laced your question, leaning in to press his forehead against yours as he sighed deeply. His hips moved at a tedious pace to keep you both placated, but not enough to satisfy what either of you really wanted.
“Thought you’d be mad, never wanna see me again. Thought..fuck, that I couldn’t have you. Shouldn’t have you. You’re too good to me, sweetheart. Too good for me. Didn’t think I deserved somethin’ so..fuck, so good.”
Frank’s face was twisted up in a concoction of hedonism and self deprecation. You knew what he thought of himself. You knew you would never be able to get him to see what you saw in him. But that didn’t mean that you were going to stop trying. You lifted your hands to cradle his face, parted lips stretching into the best smile you could offer when he was dragging his cock lazily through your folds.
“You didn’t think to ask me what I wanted?”
At that, you lifted your hips slightly, signaling that you were ready for more. That you wanted more. Frank took the hint and slipped the head of his cock into your entrance, watching the way your eyes lulled shut at the feeling. It took every ounce of will power he had not to dive inside your body. He took his time, moving inch by inch, allowing you to adjust to his size. It felt like you were fucking suffocating him, and for a minute he was genuinely worried he wouldn’t be able to last. Once he had finally bottomed out, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck and let a strangled moan escape. You dug your fingertips into his shoulders as he stretched your walls to their limits, sucking in a breath at the burning trail he created.
Frank pulled your legs up to wrap around his hips, snaking one of his arms beneath you and around your waist to keep your chest flush to his. He was fucking terrified that at any moment you would disappear. Frank remained as patient as possible, awaiting with bated breath for you to tell him he could move. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted something so fucking badly.
Turning your head slightly, you pressed the gentlest kiss to the skin beneath his ear. Frank lifted his head slightly so he could get a good look at you, feeling his heart race at the sight of you beneath him.
“I want you, Frank. All of you. If you want me too, then have me. Please.”
Frank stared down at you in disbelief, trying to figure out what the fuck he had done so right that had led him to this moment right here, with you. But who was he to say no to you? Without another word, he retracted his hips slightly just to bring them flush with yours again. He marveled at the sight of you under him, kiss-bitten lips red and swollen and parted, his name falling in breathy pants and moans from them over and over every time he reached that peak inside you. He could fucking die like this.
“Feel too fuckin’ good sweetheart, not gonna make it much longer. Need ya to let go with me. Can you do that for me, sweet girl? Hm?”
You weren’t sure if you nodded or even spoke. You weren’t sure if you gave any indication at all to Frank that you were coherent and understood what he asked. 
“Look at me, baby. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart.”
The second his fingers found your clit, you were seeing stars. This orgasm was so much fucking stronger than the last one, it suckerpunched every bit of oxygen out of you and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Violent tremors shook throughout your body and you fought so hard to keep your eyes open just long enough to watch Frank fall apart just as hard above you. Your legs tightened around his waist and you gripped onto the back of his neck, holding on as much as he could as his hips stuttered against yours roughly when he finally spilled into you. The loud moan that ripped through his chest was like music to your ears and it nearly sent you over the edge again.
The room felt like a sauna, sweltering and sticky with Frank’s body heat and the combination of your releases hanging heavily in the air. Frank’s panting breaths and your desperate whimpers were the only things your ears could register. Your brain had seemingly shut off and your vision became incredibly fuzzy while you were coming down. You weren’t sure how long that lasted, but the feeling of a calloused finger stroking your cheek seemed to tether you back to reality.
Frank beamed down at you when you slowly opened your eyes, taking in the completely blissful, fucked out look on your face. You nuzzled into his palm, finding your lips maneuvering into a smile of their own accord. 
“There’s my girl. Thought I lost you for a second there. Was worried I broke you.”
A symphonious giggle fell from your lips and Frank couldn’t help but grin even wider at the sound. You hummed softly as you looked up at him, shaking your head slowly.
“I don’t break so easily, Castle. Guess you’ll just have to keep trying.”
“That right?”
Lightly gripping onto the chain around his neck, you pulled him down to meet you in a head-spinning kiss. His large hand grabbed your face gently, and you giggled when you felt him nip at your bottom lip.
“That’s right.”
“Well, practice does make perfect.”
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peterman-spideyparker · 7 months
Text
Two Round Apples (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! This is a very horny fic. Not much thought or plot, but a lot of steamy thots. Enjoy :)
Summary: You try to do a good deed for your closest friend, but it backfires . . . and you accidentally see Matt naked. And his butt. It's awkward, but the thing about the both of you is that you both value fairness.
Warnings: Fluff, friendship, regular Nelson and Murdock shenaniganery, swearing, smut (oral - m! and f! receiving, fingering, p in v protected sex, dirty talk, Matt being a little cocky in bed)
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson and Karen Page
Word Count: 4,053
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“And Matt’s at that client meeting, so he’s gonna swing back by his place before he comes in to grab some files he was working on last night,” Foggy says over the phone as you cross the street.
“Which files did he take to work on last night?” you ask, looking down at your watch.
“The Kenadie case, the Wayne file, and I think the Slavo, Riley, and Samuels case, too.”
“Wow, no rest for the wicked, huh?”
“You know our Matty Boy—he never takes a break. Ever.”
“Well, I should be in shortly,” you say, taking a left toward Matt’s building instead of a right toward the office. “A lot of foot traffic.”
“No taxi for you?”
“Gotta get my steps in, Fog. Besides, it’s a really nice day out. I’ll see you soon.”
“See ya.”
Hanging up, you slide your phone in your pocket and open the door to the lobby of Matt’s apartment, moving up the stairs before you reach the top floor, sorting through your keys before you find your spare for his door. It’ll be a nice surprise that he doesn’t have to go back and get them. You mean, you were literally right here anyways—sure, it’d be an unnecessary extra mile for an employee, but not for his friend he’s known since undergrad that just so happens to work at his law firm. At this point, it’s just something you’d do for him.
“Let’s see,” you hum as you close the door, looking at the table in the small entryway to see if they’re there before you move into his living room to search the coffee table. As you look and straighten things out, you hear a rustling from his bedroom, your head snapping in the direction of the sound. To your surprise, you watch Matt shuffle out of his room, naked as the day he was born, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. You yelp in shock and surprise, dropping the files and turning around as you cover your eyes.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—I didn’t know you—!” you start, desperately trying to backpedal and lessen the embarrassment you're feeling.
“You’re okay, really, I—,” he starts, sounding just as frazzled as you are.
“Foggy mentioned you had a meeting and left some files—!”
“Oh, that’s nice of you, but—.”
“I-I’m gonna go,” you say, covering your eyes as you turn back around to try and find your keys you dropped on the ground. As you search around for the keys, you catch a glance of Matt’s ass as he’s turned around, his hands reached around to his front to cover himself. You stop in your tracks, letting your eyes linger on his strong muscular thighs and his perfectly round asscheeks. The perfectly round asscheeks that you could bounce a quarter off of.
The perfectly round asscheeks of one of your best friends. 
Swallowing hard, you regain your focus and pick up your keys, standing straight and scurrying out of the living room and rushing out of his building. You navigate the sidewalks as fast as lightning and get to the office in record time, immediately sitting down at your desk and throwing yourself into the work at hand.
“I don’t understand how it’s possible, but you look white as a ghost and totally flushed at the same time,” Karen says after about fifteen minutes.
“Hm? I’m okay,” you lie, as you type at your computer.
“Do you need coffee or something? You just don’t seem like yourself.”
“Slept funny—bad.”
“I’ll get a fresh pot of coffee brewing.”
As Karen gets up, the door to the office swings open and Matt enters, his cheeks bright red as he avoids turning in your direction. Foggy starts to head out of his office to ask Matt a question, his mouth opening but quickly closing it when he catches Matt’s demeanor. 
“What’s up with him?” he asks, turning toward Karen with furrowed brows.
“Maybe the client meeting didn’t go as planned?” she suggests.
“Maybe,” he sighs. “Nothing coffee can’t fix. Karen, sit down. It’s my turn to be brewmaster.”
“I’ll go get some coffee,” Matt says, all too eagerly leaving his office. “We should all caffeinate, and I mean, we have all day to drink coffee brewed here. My treat.”
“I’ll come with,” Foggy says, falling in step with his partner. “We’ll grab some bagels, too. Maybe they’ll even have muffins.”
Your eyes follow them as they slip outside of the main lobby, and as soon as the door clicks shut, Karen turns around to you.
“Okay, what’s going on?” she breathes.
“Kare—,” you start.
“Don’t even try to lie to me. What happened?”
“I saw Matt naked.”
“What?”
“This morning on my way back from taking care of those filings, I went to Matt’s place to pick up some files Foggy said he had left, and I used my spare key because Matt was at a client meeting, but he apparently wasn’t, and he walked out of his bedroom buck-ass naked, and I saw him.”
“Oh my God. Front or back?”
“Both.”
“Oh my God.”
“I mean, the front was brief, but I still saw things, but he turned around and I saw a lot of back.”
“Oh my God,” she repeats.
“And I stared. A lot.”
“Oh my God.”
“I know! I didn’t mean to stare, but, I mean . . . Kare, you’ve seen his ass in slacks. In jeans. Sweats. You know what it’s like to see it bare? It’s even better. Like, so so much better. It’s so firm and round and . . . I broke our friendship.”
“What, no!”
“Kare, I saw him naked. All I’ve been able to think about since is how I saw him naked, and how good he looks naked. You saw how he scurried in this morning and how he quickly he left to go on a coffee run! He wasn’t even in the same space for me for a full minute before he found an excuse to bolt! I ruined things!”
“It’s just awkward. I can guarantee, at some point, all super close friends see one another naked for some reason or another.”
“You think Matt has seen Foggy naked?”
“(Y/N), listen! You’re overthinking this!” She places her hands on your shoulders. “This is just a weird hump that you both have to push through. Sooner or later, you’re both gonna move past it and it’ll be fine.”
“You better be right, Kare. You better be right.”
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“Staying late?” Foggy sighs, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder.
“Mm,” you confirm. “I was telling Karen when I got back from filing those papers at the courthouse that I didn’t sleep great, and unfortunately the coffee you and Matt so kindly got didn’t give me the boost I hoped for. And I’ve been plugging along all day with my work because I haven’t been able to focus. I just want to get a little more done.”
“Well, don’t over do it—you’re the glue that holds this place together.”
“And you’re the wind beneath my wings, Nelson,” you tease.
“See ya, (Y/N). Have a good night.”
“You, too, Fog.”
“Hey—sweet dreams!”
You give him one final wave as he leaves the office. When the door clicks shut, you turn your head to look at Matt’s office door. You shouldn’t just leave the events of this morning hanging in the air. It was awkward all day, and if you can nip this in the bud, it’ll be better for the office and your friendship as a whole. You get up, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants before you walk over to Matt’s office. As you raise your hand to knock on the door, it swings open on the hinges and Matt starts to walk out, basically knocking you over.
“I’m so sorry,” you both start to say, his hands resting on the small of your back to keep you upright.
“Matt, listen,” you start. “About this morning—.”
“Please, let me go first,” he breathes.
“No, please,” you counter. “Please let me go first.” 
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to interrupt you like that—.”
“You didn’t interrupt anything, I promise.” Matt dips his head slightly and flashes you a small smile to apologize for interrupting. “Foggy was covering for me—I haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights.” He sucks in a little breath, making his chest stick out a bit and decreasing the space between your bodies. “I also don’t usually sleep naked.”
Your cheeks burn hot as your mind trails back to seeing him bare this morning, imagining how glorious he must look in his bed, the sheets crinkled and pushed so far down on his hips that just his privates are covered, how beautiful his exposed, muscular thigh must look as he lounges on the mattress. “I was just too tired for pajamas last night.”
“Do you also sleep fight? You looked like you had bruises and scars all over you. Not that I was looking. 
“Restless sleeper,” he smirks. You swear the space between your bodies disappears even more as his voice drops an octave lower; there’s no need for him to do that with you being the only two in the office, barely any space between the two of you, but it does so many things just right. “And you don’t need to be bashful that you looked. I didn’t mind at all.”
Is this man trying to give you a heart attack?
“I was thinking . . .” you start, your heart pounding out of your chest. “It’s only fair that you see mine since I saw yours.”
Matt’s tongue pokes out to wet hips perfectly pouty lips. “I’d have to touch you to see it, sweetheart.”
“I know.”
You both swallow heard, and as he starts to move in for a kiss, you dip your head and pull back slightly.
“Not here,” you breathe. “Let’s go back to your place.”
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Matt gently closes the door to his apartment behind him as you gently walk through the space, bringing yourself to the same spot where you stood this morning. He folds up his cane and puts it with his glasses by the door before walking toward you slowly—not terribly slow, but not as his normal pace, either.
“You don’t need to,” he breathes in the little space between you two, his nose practically touching yours as his unfocused eyes move all over your face.
“I know,” you breathe. “But I meant what I said in the office. It’s only fair.”
Grabbing hold of his tie, you gently tug on it to pull him in closer to you, closing the space between your bodies and feeling is soft, pouty lips again yours. If air in your lungs was scarce before, it’s completely gone when your lips connect. His body melts into yours, one hand resting on your hip and the other resting on your ribcage. Matt is the first to pull back, only pulling his lips away enough to officially break the kiss as he rests his forehead on yours. 
“Ah ah ah,” you tut as you feel his fingers start to pull at the hem of your shirt. “You were already naked when I got here this morning. Give me a little room.”
Matt’s face looks completely blown with lust, but he slowly nods, moving his hands from your body. With a shaky breath, you pull off your shirt and drop it to your right before you undo the clasp and zipper on your pants, looping your fingers in the elastic of your underwear to get them both down in one fell swoop, fabric pooling at your ankles. Matt’s face flushes, and his tongue slips out between his lips as he gently flexes and wiggles his fingers as he keeps himself from touching your body for the time being. Your eyes start to look up and down the length of his body before you reach around your back and unclasp your bra, feeling it go limp before you push the straps down your arms and let it fall. As it falls down, you notice it hit against a growing erection in his pants that looks increasingly uncomfortable. 
“You can touch me whenever and wherever you want,” you breathe. 
“Mmm,” he hums, his lids hooded with desire. His fingers start to graze over the back of your hands before gently tracing up your arms, making goosebumps dance all over your skin. Once his fingertips hit your elbow, he tilts his wrists so his hands start to glide up and over your skin. As they reach your shoulders, Matt gently glides them up, his hand cradling your neck while his other hand tucks hair behind your ear. “Is this okay?”
“Y-Yes,” you stutter, your heart racing a million miles an hour.
His eyebrows gently lift up in delight and care as if he’s listening to your body tick and purr as he nods softly. “If you want me to stop, say the word.”
“Okay,” you breathe before adding with a little smirk, “You can keep going.”
He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight as he smiles. His hands gently glide down from your face and neck, over your collarbone, and down over your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples, causing them to peak. 
“I might get a better image if I feel you some more,” he says, his voice low and gravely with what you can only describe as desire as his hands gently drag along your ribcage and around to your back.
You half-register the “yes” that tumbles from your lips, and you gasp in delight when you feel his lips on your neck, softly pressing kisses down the column of skin, over your breasts, above your pounding heart, and eventually around one of your pert nipples. He gently sucks at it with each kiss before moving to the other one and doing the same exact thing again.
“Matt,” you breathe, your hands slipping into his soft hair, your fingernails scratching at his scalp. He hums into your skin, moving off of your breast and spreading kisses all over your stomach before he is on his knees in front of you. As his embraces spread across your pelvic bone and grow closer to the dripping heat between your legs. Matt’s hands slide down your back further before they’re gently resting over the curve of your ass. You gasp, a small moan falling from your throat as you tilt your head back in delight as he starts to kiss and lick at your dripping pussy. “Oh m—. . . fuck, Matt.”
He just hums, continuing his work diligently and deliberately as you get pulled closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of your pleasure. As you approach, Matt pulls his lips from the apex between your legs, kissing down your thighs and legs before moving back up, carefully moving his kisses around to your back and kissing the skin he neglected. Matt kisses up your spine as he straightens his legs to stand, one of his hands staying at your hips and between your legs, carefully playing with you as his lips and other hand continue to explore your body. A tingle shoots down your spine as his lips press kisses into your shoulder, his fingers brushing your hair aside so he can kiss up your neck and behind your ear.
“How good of a look did you really get this morning?” he asks quietly, his voice dropping to an octave that goes right between your legs and would make you do absolutely anything he told you to do.
“I-I tried not to look,” you stutter.
“But you stared at my ass, though.”
“Yes,” you grin.
“Sounds like you could use a better look at the front. You know, all things being fair in this.”
“I’d hate to be unfair.” He chuckles deeply, kissing at the sweet spot behind your ear before moving around to your front. “I think your bedroom as better lighting, though. It’d mimic this morning. Again, all things being equal.”
“Like you said, sweetheart. I’d hate to be unfair.”
You turn into his touch, bringing your lips to his and kissing him deeply as his hands hold you flush against him. Your lips move back and forth, the desire and delight growing more and more that you almost forget your plan to move to his room. He sweeps you up, his strong hands wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you up before he begins to move across his apartment, his lips never leaving your skin. You moan into his mouth when you feel the cool, soft, silky-smoothness of his sheets on your back.
“You want to undress me, or should I do it?” he smirks.
“I’m happy to assist,” you grin, matching his expression. 
He laughs and nods, his fingers working to unbutton his shirt while you make quick work with his belt and pants, wrapping your hand around his sizable erection and pumping, making Matt groan at your touch.
“Lay back, angel,” he husks, pulling his shirt off. “Lay back and take it all in.” You let go and do as he asks, watching him as he steps out of his pants and boxers, pumping himself as he kneels on the bed. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. I want you.”
Matt leans down, supporting himself on one hand while he keeps pumping himself, his lips crashing into yours. You cup his face in your hand, doing what you can to intensify the kiss. Your other hand slips into the sweet spot of his back, right above the curve of his ass, his erection gliding right against the slick between your legs. You groan into the embrace as your privates touch in the most delicious of ways, the hand you have on his cheek sliding up to tug on his hair. Matt pulls his lips from yours and kisses your neck and clavicle, marking you up before moving back up to kiss you deeply and repeatedly before pulling back to reach over in his nightstand to grab a condom. Tearing open the foil package, you watch him roll it on his length, making sure the tip has room and it’s secure.
“You ready, sweetheart?” he breathes, one hand cradling the side of your face as he kisses your cheek and neck, the other sliding down your side.
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Hang on, angel.” With another kiss, he reaches over and pulls down one of his extra pillows at the head of his bed. “Lift your hips for me.” You do as he asks, and he wiggles the pillow under your hips, kissing all the way up your stomach, between your breasts, and back on your lips. “Spread your legs, please.”
Tilting your knees to the side, you expose everything to him, gasping and leaning back into the pillow under your head while he strokes his cock up and down your slit.
“Matt,” you breathe, digging your nails into the soft flesh of his shoulders. “Matty, please.”
He kisses you again, saying so much with the embrace without saying a single word. He nose brushes against yours tenderly before rolling his hips forward and slowly pushing in. You cry out, nuzzling into him as he sinks in inch by inch, stretching you wide and filling you gloriously until he can’t push in any further.
“Tell me when I can move,” Matt kisses into your chest.
“Move,” you beg almost immediately. “Matt, please, move.”
He chuckles softly and smiles, nodding and giving you a kiss as he starts to drag his hips back before starting to push back in. The pace is steady and comfortable, but with each push and pull, you just about lose your mind at the sensation thanks to the pillow under your hips, unable to prevent the moans and whimpers that fall from your mouth. Matt grabs one of your legs and lifts it higher, helping him hit deeper and making you cry out louder.
“Just like that, angel,” he grunts. “Fuck, (Y/N), you feel so good.”
“Matt!” you swallow. “Matt, harder!”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck, just like that, please!”
His hips pick up the pace, making the bed squeak and filling his bedroom with the sounds of your slapping skin. Your head lolls back in pure bliss as your chest heaves as you pant in pleasure, blindly grabbing at Matt’s arms for a sense of stability. The moans that he pulls from your throat sound absolutely animalistic and feral as he repeatedly thrusts into you.
“Deeper, please!” you beg. “Matt, please!”
“I know, angel girl,” he grunts. “You feel so fucking nice, I want to make you feel all kinds of good, sweetheart.”
“Kiss me,” you swallow, finally managing to get a good grip on him to pull him down, his lips crashing into yours, his hips only faltering slightly. He moans into your mouth as he resumes his thrusts, his hands gripping your hips tightly in an effort to help in hit deeper. Pulling his lips from yours, he attaches them to your neck, right on your sensitive spot as he nips and sucks to mark you up as his. “Matty, I’m gonna cum.”
“Yeah?” he taunts. “This dick just too good for you? Can’t hold out for more?”
“Matt!”
“Tell me how good this dick is, angel.”
“Fuck, Matt! Your dick is so good! Best dick I’ve ever had!”
“Shit, (Y/N), you’re so good for me—your pussy is so tight, sweetheart. And it’s all for me.” He trusts deeply. “All.” Thrust. “For.” Thrust. “Me.” Thrust.
His pelvis rubs against you just right with a deep thrust, and you cum around his dick with a body-trembling force, your voice reaching a pitch you didn’t know was possible. Matt’s mouth slots over yours, capturing your cries of pleasure in his mouth, using it as fuel for his own passion.
“Matt,” you whisper in his ear. “Pull out.”
“What?” he huffs in confusion as his hips slow. You muster enough energy to roll your bodies over so he’s flat on his back and you slide off of him. You whine at the emptiness, but you eagerly move over him and pull off his condom, replacing the latex with your mouth and hand. Matt moans out in pure ecstasy, the muscles in his strong thighs clenching in surprise as you play with him and eagerly bob your head.
“Angel, I’m gonna cum,” he breathes. “I’m gonna cum.”
You hum in delight at the thought of your mouth being the thing that pushes him over the edge, the thought of just how big his load is shooting right between your legs and making you want him even more. With a careful squeeze of your hand at his base with his balls, he bucks his hips up, shoving his cock all the way down your throat as he cums. You move your hands and spread them across his hips, working to keep all of Matt down your throat as you swallow his cum, one of his hands cradling the side of your face. When he’s finally done, you slowly slide off of him, gasping for breath when your lips finally release his cock with a soft popping noise. You go back down, wrapping your lips around his head to suck him dry and clean him off before you move your kisses up his body, up along his bellybutton and abs, his chest and clavicle, neck, and finally his lips.
“Mm,” you hum into the embrace, nuzzling your nose against his after you break the kiss.
“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he murmurs. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. Everything was great.”
Matt smiles like an idiot, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you again before rolling the two of you onto your sides, your legs tangling together. 
“I like that you value fairness so highly,” he chuckles softly, his pouty lips kissing under your jaw.
“I like that you were too tired for pajamas last night.”
This time you both laugh before your lips connect again.
“Maybe I’ll make it a habit when you’re around.”
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lea-russo333 · 4 months
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you're not alone (arsenal x teen reader)
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I'm back! very sorry pt2 took so long but thank you for waiting :) there will be a pt3 (wouldn't mind people sending some ideas of how it should go) which will try to get done in the next week or 2. anyways, enjoy!
warnings: eating disorders, illusions to throwing up, angst with some fluff at the end (pls let me know if I've missed anything)
proofread: sort of
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The warm water trickled down your body. You were sat in the shower, eyes staring at the tiled floor. Your fingers had started to grow soft and wrinkly. You don’t know how long you had been in there, lost in your own thoughts about dinner tonight. What would you order, what would you wear, would people judge?
Team dinners were nights you use to enjoy, nights filled with fun and laughter, but that was before everything. Now you just felt uncomfortable and awkward, never knowing what to do with yourself. You hadn't attended a team dinner, or any team bonding's that involved food, for a good while. Always coming up with some excuse as to why you couldn’t attend.
Beth and Viv had insisted that you go to this one though, leaving no room for arguments.
You slowly stood up turning the hot water off. Grabbing a towel and heading straight for your room, slamming the door behind you.
Viv flinched at the sound, looking towards Beth who was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket with Myle. Walking over, she placed a soft kiss on top of the older girl's forehead, sitting down next to her. Beth smiled in return, resting her head on top of Viv shoulder as a comfortable silence filled the room.
The two hadn't talked to you about what happened today, both wanting to wait till tomorrow; when you all had the day off, to bring it up with you. They weren't sure how to go about it, both scared at how you will react, will you accept that you need help? Or will you deny what they both knew was clearly happening and sink further in to the walls that you had slowly started to put up.
The comfortable silence was soon interrupted by your loud footsteps coming down the stairs. They both turned in your direction and taking in your form, you didn’t look great if they were being honest, you looked tired, your lips were chapped, skin pale and dark eyebags plagued your face, you looked sick.
You stood there, awkwardly holding a hairbrush in your right hand and a hair tie in your left.
“Would one of you be able to brush my hair please” your voice was hoarse and scratchy, standing there fiddling with the hair tie between your fingers waiting for an answer.
“OfCourse love” Beth said, sitting up straight from Viv's arms, lightly patting the floor Infront of her.
A small smile graced your face as you mumbled a quiet thanks and shuffled your way towards her. sitting down with your legs crossed handing her both the hair tie and brush.
As Beth started to slowly detangle the ends of your hair, your mind started to wonder again. You thought about the events that took place earlier that day and guilt quickly started to spread across your body. Why had you yelled at Caitlin like that? All she was doing was checking in on you and you had gone and snapped at her Infront of your teammates.
“I'm sorry about today” you whispered out. Beth stopped her movements for a brief second before continuing as she spoke.
“it's okay love, but it's not us you need to be apologizing to” She was almost surprised, not expecting you to apologize so fast.
“I'll apologize to her tonight, it's at her and katies places, isn't it?” you asked, turning around to see both women nodding their heads.
It was silent again after that. The only sounds coming from your tangled hair as Beth tried to run the brush threw it as gently as she could, not wanting to hurt you. You sat like that for at least half an hour while picking at your nails; an unhealthy habit you had picked in your early teen years.
“How do you want your hair liefde?” Viv asked while switching spots with Beth. Viv had always been better at doing hair, she braided it for you on most game days, but she wasn’t as gentle as Beth when it came to brushing out the tangles.
“Just a half up half down, please”
Viv nodded and got straight to work. As soon as your hair was finished you rushed up stairs to put on outfit, opting for a pair of baggier jeans and your arsenal hoodie. Both the older women waiting for you by the door, Viv jiggling the car keys in her hand.
“Ready to go then?”
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Katie and Caitlin's house were already packed with cars out the front when you arrived, with most of your team already there. You got out of the car and waited for Beth and Viv before walking up to the front door and knocking 3 times.
You stood behind Beth as Caitlin opened the door, ushering you all in and giving each of you a short hug. Beth and Viv both made their way to the living room, Caitlin quick to follow them but before she left, she felt your hand clutch around her Rist.  She turned and looked towards were you held her Rist with furrowed eyebrows and then back to you.
“I- uh sorry” you said while dropping her hand “I just wanted to apologize for today, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that Infront of everyone. I was in a horrible mood today which isn't an excuse, but I still wanted to apologize” you rambled as you played with the sleeves of your hoodie, eyes looking anywhere but at Caitlin, feeling too guilty to look her in the eye.
“Hey, it's okay, I get it we all have bad days” she pulled you into another hug “thank you for apologizing though.”
The two of you walked into the living room where everyone was spread out. Your eyes searched the room trying to find Beth or Viv, they soon settled on Beth who was arguing with Krya over what movie they were going to watch during dinner, Lessie being stuck between the two girls.
“you two are children, honestly” she said while snatching the remote out of their hands and putting on Beths choice. You walked over and sat next to Beth, resting your hand on her shoulder.
“where's Vivi?” you looked up towards her.
“She in the kitchen helping with dinner, pretty sure were having some form of pasta and salad.”
You gulped at the thought, you hadn't eaten pasta in a while and the thought of eating it in front of the team made a shiver go down your spine.
Maybe you could just have the salad? That won't hurt, you thought while picking at your nails, Beth took notice and grabbed your hands.
“You know, you always complain about how your nails never grow yet you still continue chew them off every chance you get” she let out a soft chuckle “what's on your mind love.”
“I apologized” was all you said to the women. You felt her lightly kiss the top of your head before pulling you into a little side hug.
“Good job, I'm very proud of you” her words brought a genuine smile to your face, Beth was always good at that, even on your toughest days she always seemed to find a way to but a smile on your face, even if it was just a small one.
“Alright everyone dinners ready! Come and serve ya selves” the soft moment was interrupted by katies loud voice calling out to everyone.
You all made your way over to the kitchen, grabbing bowls and plates, everyone putting the food of their choice on their plates. As you went to grab your own you were stopped by someone calling your name, turning around to find Viv already holding a bowl out for you.
“I got all your favorites” she said with a smile while handing it to you. She was right, it did contain all your favorite, cheesy pasta, 2 pieces of garlic bread and a bit of Caeser salad. You mumbled a thank you while walking back towards the couch and squishing yourself as far as you could into the corner of it.
You moved your food around with your fork for a bit before bringing a small amount up to your mouth, hand shaking slightly, you took a deep breath hesitating slightly as you put it in your mouth, chewing slowly. You could feel the tears well in your eyes as you took another small bite, hands getting shakier and shakier every time you brought the fork to your mouth. You felt a tear fall down your face slightly, quickly bringing a hand to wipe it before anyone notices it.
Someone did though. You didn’t know it, but you had several eyes watching you as you ate your food. Leah, Viv, Beth and Alessia had all been taking glances at you throughout dinner. Your shacky frame and tearful eyes didn’t go un-noticed by any of them.
As everyone got up to put their dishes in the sink, you took the opportunity to sneak off to the bathroom, leaving your half-eaten dinner on the arm of the couch.
You turned the light and fan on when you entered, locking the door behind you. As you kneeled in front of the toilet you tied the rest of your hair back taking a deep breath.
Alessia hadn't watched you go to the bathroom, but your absence didn’t go un-noticed by her as she looked towards your now empty spot of the couch and your barley eaten dinner left on the arm. She wasn’t sure where you had gone but she had small hunch she knew where shed fined you.
You jumped as you opened the door, almost falling to the ground, Alessia was standing right Infront of it with her fist raised ready to knock. She too jumped back surprised. She stood there awkwardly playing with her fingers starting at you, thinking over what she was about to say to you.
“Do you need the bathroom? Or…” you spoke breaking the awkward silence.
“Oh ah, no sorry” she took a small step back “I was just wondering where you went, you were gone for a little bit.”
“Well, I was in here, no need to worry” you gave her a tight-lipped smile while awkwardly raising your hands. You liked Alessia, you had only met her a few months ago when she signed for arsenal, but she was a kind girl and in the short time Shes been here she had already felt the need to look out for you as most of the girls did after they met you, perks of being the baby of the team.
“Look, I know you're sick of people asking this but are you sure you're, okay? You barely touched your food, and it looks like you’ve been crying” she tried to look at you in the eyes but yours were looking anywhere but her. “it's alright, you don’t have to talk to me about it, but I am here if anything's bothering you” she said while ducking her head down to finally meet your eyes with a soft, warm smile.
You took a deep breath “there's nothing to talk about, I just ate something before we got here, and it made me feel a little sick is all.’’ You picked at your nails while you talked.
A silence fell between the two of you again as she looked at you. She took in your watery eyes and the way the rest of your hair was tied behind your ears now.
“Can I go now?” you huffed.
She stood there for a moment contemplating whether or not to say the next words that were about to fall out of her mouth. You tried to get past her, but she stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.
“what's really going on y/n?” she questioned and when you didn’t answer she took it as an opportunity to push you a bit further. “Talk to me love”.
You don’t know why, maybe it was the comforting hand of your shoulder or the way she spoke so softly to you, but you felt tears well up in your eyes. She noticed to and quickly pulled you in the bathroom again and locked the door, pulling you in to a tight bear hug. That’s what really got you crying, your faced and Alessias jumper quickly getting soaked.
“it's okay” she was lacing her fingers through your hair, rocking you side to side in at a comforting pace.
“I'm sorry” you chocked out, burying your face into chest more while sobbing.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for love, okay? I  ju-” she cut her self-off before continuing “we, just want to help you, okay? But we can't do that unless you tell us what's going on” she spoke, still playing with your hair softly.
“You won't be mad?” you sniffed, finally taking your head out of her chest and looking down at the tear-stained patch that was left behind.
“Never” she said while holding your face in her hands, gently wiping the tears away.
You fully pulled back from her now, moving over to sit on the toilet. You sat there for a while trying to gather your thoughts and were to start, your leg was bouncing up and down while you were lost in thought. A soft hand on your knee brought you back.
“Whatcha thinking?” she asked, her fingers rubbing soothing circles on your knee.
“I don’t know what to say” it came out as a whisper and if less wasn’t as close to as she was right now, she's sure she would have missed it. “Everyone just been so mean since I came back…I mean I knew I had gained a little weight, but I didn’t think it was that bad” you took a deep breath “but then everyone started pointing it out online, so I turned my comments off on Instagram but then they started saying stuff on our official Instagram and then on twitter and…” you trailed off.
“And what?” she pushed.
“I don’t know why I read them in the first place” your eyes started to sting again “it just started off with missing breakfast and few extra trips to the gym but no- now I can't stop” you broke down again, clutching on to the girl Infront of you as she wrapped her arms around you for a second time.
“I didn’t mean for it to go this far” you sobbed out.
“Shh, it'll all be okay, okay? We’ll get you the help you need alright love.”
“No!” you shot out of her grasp “no you can't tell anyone" You looked at her with pleading eyes.
“y/n, you can't keep doing this to yourself, it's dangerous, really fucking dangerous.” Her voice was stern this time “I've been in a similar position to, and I can assure you that I was not strong enough to perform at the level that we do, and if I wasn’t strong enough then you definitely aren't.” She sighed looking at your tear-stained face. “You need help y/n, I know it's scary to ask for it, but I promise you no one is going to judge you for needing it. We’re all worried about you love, Beth and Viv especially” you nodded with every word she said, just staring at the floor. You had never meant to worry Beth and Viv; you hated it when they worried about you.
“I’ll talk to them tomorrow” your voice was horsed and sore from crying.
“I'm so proud of you for saying something, I know that wouldn’t have been easy for you” less stood up bringing you up with her and pulling you into one more hug.
“you're not alone in this” she whispered.
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ruewrote · 3 months
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𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡.
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PAIRING: s6!lipgallagher x inexperienced!fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: the spins by mac miller WORD COUNT: 463 REQUESTED: yes
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it's not a lie that you've never had to struggle for the majority of your life, whether that be through money or popularity. but where you did lack was experience, yeah being a straight A student was cool and all but since you were the centre of attention all the time it was difficult to do any wrong.
so as you got to college you thought that'd all change. something you didn't think of is where to start. hm well that was until you met lip gallagher.
it definitely helped that the two of you worked together to help out in professor youens class as it got you extra credit and also didn't hurt to make a new friend.
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"you've gotta be shitting me? nothin'? not even accidentally slipped a tube of that gloss you're always wearing?" he questioned, leaning in closer eyeing you suspiciously.
rolling your eyes as you nudged his shoulder with your own, "no! is it really that hard to believe?"
"i guess not," he brings the cigarette to his lips taking a long drag, "i guess i shouldn't be since you are a goodie two shoes." blowing the rest of the smoke out of your direction.
"i am not a goodie two shoes!" you muttered as your eyes fell down to your shoes that were kicking at the rubble beneath them.
"yeah, yeah okay! so what was the last 'bad' thing you did?"
looking up at him through your lashes, genuinely trying to think of something, anything. sighing knowing that he was right.
the first thing you could think to do was lunge and grab the burning cigarette out of his hand, bringing it to your lips, stupidly inhaling way too much which made you burst out into a coughing fit.
lips eyes widened before sitting beside you, moving your hair out of your face whilst gently patting your back.
"you really shouldn't over do it on your first time, sweetheart."
your eyes all red and watery as you looked up at him, "a bit too late for that."
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from then on the two of you were inseparable, him showing you how to live your life instead of just surviving it. whether that be from sillily ding dong ditching peoples houses to him showing you how to kiss (maybe a bit too much)
when you weren't creating chaos you were either laid up in your dorms watching movies on your laptop or were at the gallaghers house buying everyone pizza making them all happy.
even though you hadn't been friends for very long you and lip just fit together, you never thought that you would find someone that you would click with so easily. nevermind him being the complete opposite to you.
you wouldn't want it any other way.
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@diorrfairy hope this was as good as you wanted it to be :))
© ruewrote.
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thetriplets3 · 6 months
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Hi I have a request! In Taylor's new song there's lyrics "in the world of boys, he's a gentleman" could you do something about matt or chris with it??
❝𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧❞
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matt was the first person to show me what love looked like. i had only been in one relationship that lasted 5 months then he “got bored” and started seeing someone before he even broke up with me.
i had my fair share of blind dates my friends insisted on setting me up with but none of them left me feeling loved. i always felt like an afterthought on these dates. they walk in the restaurant and head to a table leaving me trailing behind like a lost puppy. they’d spend the whole night talking themselves and finding a way to make it about them barely letting me get a word in, and they’d always ask for separate bills. those were the better of the dates. some of them would text me all day telling me how excited they were to see me and as soon as it came time for our date i was met with radio silence. i sat at countless tables repeatedly telling the server “he should be here soon”. i was embarrassed to be in this situation, especially since it isn’t the first time it’s happened.
there were plenty of times guys showed they were really just boys.
the last date i was on the guy wanted to take me to a fancy restaurant, saying i deserved to be given the best treatment. that was a lie. i’d been waiting in this high end restaurant alone for nearly an hour waiting. all my texts to him asking where he was got left on read. i was feeling self conscious, suddenly aware of everyone giving me pitiful looks, i don’t belong here i stand out like a sore thumb and it’s very obvious i’ve been stood up. my phone buzzed, causing me to immediately pick up my phone hoping he’d finally texted me back. a sigh escapes my lips when i see it’s a text from nick checking in on me.
nick
sooo how’s mr fancy treating you??
me
he ain’t shit. i’ve been waiting for him for almost an hour i feel like an animal at the zoo being stared at this is fucking embarrassing
nick
wtfff that’s horrible i’m so sorry. men suck
me
correction boys suck
nick
i say give him 20 minutes, if he doesn’t show up by then, leave
~third person pov~
what she didn’t know is that nick had mentioned her situation to his brothers and without hesitation, matt headed to his room and changed into nicer clothes. nick and chris weren’t shocked when they saw matt all dressed up and heading out the door without a word. they know their brother would do anything for that girl, which is why he told her to wait, knowing matt would be there in minutes.
she has been by their side since grade 4. her and matt have always been closer than she was with the other boys. they were the perfect pair, they were meant for each other, just too shy to say anything. they didn’t need to admit anything though, their feelings showed through their actions.
matt pulled up to the restaurant and quickly made his way in scanning the dimly lit room for her beautiful face. within seconds his eyes meet her heartbroken face. he practically sprinted towards her, out of breath and ready with a fake excuse as to why he’s late.
hearing heavy quick steps in her direction, the girl whips head up only to be met with the person she really wanted to show up. a smile replaces her frown as she gets up, shimmying the hem off her dress down, and meets matt’s open arms.
“i’m so sorry i’m late, chris hurt himself so i had to bring him to the hospital. i would have texted you but my phone died and i was too panicked to try and call you” he says loud enough for people around to hear, before pulling her chair back to let her sit and tucking it in before seating himself. “once they saw chris i left and came straight here. i really didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long. i’m sorry love” he says, eyes boring into hers with sincerity.
“that’s okay you’re here now. i’m glad you were there to help him” the girl said, playing along with his story.
after finally eating, he paid for their meals and led her to the exit of the building with a gentle hand on her lower back. before heading outside he took off his jacket and put it on the girl.
“it’s cold out” he softly started, before holding the door open for her as she walks out the door with a true smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.
“thank you matt you didn’t have to do that. i was perfectly okay with leaving and getting an uber” she said as she gave him a hug and placed a delicate kiss to his cheek.
“you might have been okay with doing that but i’m not. you don’t deserve to get stood up and you got all dolled up i’d be mad at myself if i didn’t come here and just let you sit there even longer looking all pretty with no one there to appreciate you. i’d do anything for you in a heart beat, you know that” he said before holding her warm face in his hands, his eyes searching hers for approval. with a subtle nod and a glimmer in her eyes he wastes no time placing a sweet and loving kiss to her lips.
~reader’s pov~
it wasn’t long after that night when matt asked me to be his girlfriend. he makes sure to show me everyday what it’s like to truly be loved. it’s the little things; subtly switching sides with me if we’re about to pass a group of creepy men or drunk boys; he’ll reach his hand behind him if he’s in the middle of a conversation or busy with something to hold my hand, letting me know he hasn’t forgotten about me; he always has extras of things i use often with him either in his car, his room or his backpack he’s got it. if my hairs bothering me and i forgot a hair clip or hair tie, he’s got one clipped to his bag and a hair tie around his wrist. if i need lip balm he’s got about 3 with him at any point, and he gets a taste of the strawberry lip balm each kiss, he can’t complain; knowing how clumsy and spatially unaware i am, any time i bend down to get something his hand is right there to stop me from bumping my head on it. he’ll brush my hair and attempt to braid it which usually ends up with him just playing with my hair, knowing how relaxing i find it. he can read me like a book he knows me better than anyone else and he’s always one step ahead of me, going that extra mile.
he makes me feel seen like no one has done before. i am his never ending thought, never an afterthought, like every boy made me feel like i was. matt has shown me what it’s like to be loved, i don’t know why i put up with being treated poorly for so long.
he’s a gentleman in a world full of boys
(not the lyrics but close enough)
taglist:
@antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld @strniolo @luvsturniolo
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fatuismooches · 2 months
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Dottore and a sensitive s/o... agh.. knowing dottore (specifically omega) and how he can be sarcastic and mean at times. Tearing up when he says something slightly rude or in a certain manner to them. Or when he raises his voice just so slightly. This is out of character for dottore but just imagine him doing this unconsciously, or out of frustration when a dose of said cure has failed.
You had long become accustomed to hearing Dottore's remarks in the Akademiya. It had taken some getting used to, seeing how blunt he could be, but after some time you were able to see it as more entertaining rather than truly mean. You still felt the same even after you woke up after so long. In fact, perhaps you missed it after being away for a few centuries. However, after a while, it seemed that your once confident nature began to dwindle.
You're blessed with a lot of things, but you're also cursed with other things. It feels like you have a world of problems on you sometimes. You don't want to deal with things that hurt you even more, self-esteem already suffering. Now that he was older, he had no need for brash comments. Dottore could carefully weave his words to hit you where it hurts, having no need to be direct. Which, can arguably hurt more than just him being straight up.
You know that it's dumb for you to have such a reaction to it. But subtle remarks or rudeness don't help your already shaky state, even if you know deep down he doesn't genuinely mean it. All rationality seems to leave you as soon as you hear that tone. All the calmness you've been keeping up as a front. You don't want to be sensitive, to start a fuss over something this small, but you can't help it. You already know you're a burden, but you don't want to hear it.
Dottore notices the slight shift in your expression the first few times, but he doesn't dwell on it too much - you can handle it, he assumes, you have before, what has changed? And if you have a problem, surely you know you can just say it. He trusts you to speak your mind. It's not until he actually sees you cry that he realizes that perhaps his words have far more of an impact than he initially intended.
He doesn't want you to think you're an inconvenience to him, because you aren't, and never will be. And so he is at a loss as to what to do - apologize? He could, but he doesn't think it would mean much, considering the state you've probably been in for a while. Say he'll never do it again? A lie wouldn't do you any good either. He thinks he understands your brain but there are times he is proven utterly wrong. And so he resorts to what he seems to always end up doing - silently holding you until you're exhausted.
He knows he's not a gentle or tender lover. He's not the sweet one you've always desired (despite your firm statements that you would choose him over anyone else). But for you, he'll try his best to show you his love, because you deserve that, at the very least, right?
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arealphrooblem · 9 months
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A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find
Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.
CW: death threats, knives
There was only one thing worse than having a crush on your straight roommate: having a crush on your straight villain roommate. 
Actually worse than that were rent prices, which kept Civilian from running as far in the opposite direction as he could get after he gave his statement to the police. 
A statement that contained a big, gaping hole. 
Because it couldn’t be true, right? It had to be a coincidence. Lots of people had weird, star shaped birthmarks on their ribs. It was a huge leap of logic to assume that the villain who had just tried to rob the bank that morning had the exact same birthmark as Civilian’s roommate for the past two years. 
Or maybe he just imagined it. It had been a very traumatic day. Civilian went home after the police released him and had a massive panic attack in the shower for about forty five minutes and then pressed two weighted blankets on him in bed like a panini grill. 
Having a group of villains stride into your workplace, guns blazing, would do that to you. As would getting stuck in the crossfire between said villains and the Hero from behind a desk, praying a stray bullet or laser beam wouldn’t hit and kill you. 
It was only a coincidence that Civilian had seen the birthmark. Near the end of the fight, one of the villains had been thrown over the very desk Civilian cowered behind, hitting the wall hard enough that even Civilian winced in sympathy. 
He laid there for a moment, dazed, half his torso exposed from a rip in his clothes, that stupid, undeniable birthmark on full display. Civilian could only stare at it, head dizzy as if he also took blunt force trauma to it. The villain groaned and sat up. 
For one agonizingly long second their eyes met. Civilian felt like a kitten spotted by a hawk. This was it. His time was up. He’d be just another statistic on the news -- 
But the villain just put a finger on his lips -- a silent command for silence -- that Civilian could only nod helplessly at. Then the villain slipped away in the chaos and disappeared. 
And besides, it couldn’t be his roommate because his roommate was in Colorado, visiting some online friend of his and going mountain biking or whatever. 
Two days after the attack, Roommate burst through the front door, dumping his duffel bag onto the floor and stepping towards Civilian with a scary single minded determination. 
It took every ounce of control not to flinch when Roommate cupped his face, gaze roving over his features as if looking for injuries. 
Roommate himself looked untouched from the fight. It almost made Civilian second guess himself. But he hadn’t spent the last two days analyzing every detail his love-sick brain had filed away for the last two years to doubt himself now. 
That villain and his roommate were the same person. 
“I saw the news,” Roommate said. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I tried to change my flight but this was the soonest I could get in.”
The lie hurt. Obviously Roommate hadn’t been mountain biking in Colorado for the past few days so it begged the question: what else did he lie about? Was this concern just an elaborate play at innocence? But if his roommate was taking the time to craft this act of concern, then he must not think Civilian knew. 
And if Civilian valued his life, he’d have to keep it that way and force normalcy. 
“I’m fine,” he said, trying for a smile and coming up with a grimace. “I mean, I’m not fine. It was fucking scary, but I didn’t get hurt. So there’s that. Work’s given me a week off and then. . .”
Roommate scowled. “And then what? They can’t possibly think you’d be okay working there again after only a few days off? You should quit.”
“Quit?” Civilian’s eyebrows raised. “And we both get thrown out on our asses? We’re lucky enough to have this apartment as it is.”
“I have enough savings to get us through for a few weeks while you find another job,” Roommate insisted. 
“I thought you blew it all on Colorado,” Civilian joked weakly. 
And where the fuck did those savings come from? he wanted to ask. But he didn’t dare. 
“Not all of it. Seriously. You should think about it.”
Something gleamed in the roommate’s eyes, like a warning. Civilian swallowed thickly and nodded. 
“Okay. I’ll think about it. I just . . .I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit. It’s good to have you back. You’ll have to tell me all about it when I wake up again.”
Roommate’s face lit up with a smile and Civilian’s heart twisted in his chest. “I have so many good photos. It’s beautiful out there.You should come with me next time.”
“Yeah sure,” said Civilian thoughtlessly, thinking only of the dark safety of his room. 
“Get some rest.” Roommate nudged Civilian towards the hallway. “I’ll order us pizza.”
Civilian nodded and forced his steps to slow as he made his way to the bedroom. Once the door shut and the fan turned on, he buried his head under his pillows and tried to get his breathing under control. 
Faking normalcy was going to be harder than he thought. 
"Oh you're starting dinner already?"
Civilian jumped at the sound of his roommate's voice, the knife slipping and nearly cutting  into his fingertip. A quick glance over his shoulder showed his roommate leaning against the opposite counter, arms folded loosely over his chest. 
Just a casual chat. And yet it felt like a fist suddenly gripped Civilian's heart. Even after three days, it still felt like walking the knife’s edge every time they were in the same room together. 
"I, um, got bored," he said, thankful to be facing away so his terror wouldn't show as he fought it back down. "I didn't know you'd be home so soon."
"I took a half day at lunch. Did some shopping. I got you more of that tea. It seemed to help you sleep."
A hint of guilt colored his roommate's nonchalance. Or maybe Civilian just imagined it. 
"Thanks," Civilian said.
Focus. Focus on the potato. Cube the potato. Be the potato. 
Heart thudding in his ears, his concentration on chopping vegetables, Civilian didn't hear the movement until his roommate's head appeared over his shoulder. 
"What are you making?" he asked. 
Civilian swallowed down a lick of sudden hysteria. 
Get a fucking hold of yourself he thought. There is no reason why he'd be suspicious unless you're acting like a lunatic!
"Soup," he managed to croak. "The, uh, kind at the Italian restaurant you like."
A bribe. A hope. A way to remind himself that he knew his roommate, right? They've lived together for two years. 
And true to form, his roommate's eyes brightened. "Oh excellent! We haven't had that in ages."
"That's because chopping all these vegetables is a pain in the ass."
A thick tension rose and tightened between them. Civilian concentrated on chopping, trying to ignore the heat at his back as his roommate didn't step away, didn't leave. Just watched him. 
"You're using the wrong knife, you know," the roommate said softly. 
" . . .what?"
The roommate reached over Civilian's shoulder to the knife block on the counter and pulled one out. It was small and two fingers wide, short and wickedly sharp. Fear clenched Civilian's throat with icy hands. 
"You're using a butcher knife," his roommate murmured against Civilian's ear. A shiver fluttered down his neck. "That's for cutting meat. You need a paring knife for vegetables."
" . . .Oh." Was it just him or did the kitchen suddenly feel low on air? "I'll . . . remember that . . .for next time. . ."
"Why don't I take over? At least for the chopping."
Civilian tightened his grip on the knife, an instinctive gesture he had no control over. But even though Roommate had offered help in the kitchen many times, that same instinct screamed not to let him. Something felt different this time. 
"I got it," he said, forcing lightness in his tone. "You know you're hopeless in the kitchen."
"I'm good with knives, though." Civilian swallowed down another spike of cold terror. "It's the least I can do if you're making me my favorite."
The paring knife rested just inside Civilian's peripheral, deceptively harmless. 
"Why don't you put the gnocchi on to boil," he said. "I'm almost done here."
His roommate sighed, a rush of air against Civilian’s cheek. "You're always so stubborn," he said with sad fondness. 
The paring knife moved like a flash and suddenly it's cold steel pressed light as a kiss just under Civilian's jaw. 
His breath froze in his lungs. 
"Drop the knife, Civilian."
" . . .Roommate?" It wasn't difficult to pitch his voice high in uncertain fear. To pretend shock. "What are you doing?"
"I know that you know."
"Know what?" Civilian breathed and then cringed at how unbelievable it sounded even to his own ears. 
He only had room in his head for one secret,  it was hard to sound convincingly ignorant when every cell screamed at him to run away. 
"You've tried so valiantly to hide it, but I know you too well." Roommate's murmured against his ear.  "You're afraid."
Civilian dragged a shaky breath into his lungs. "You have a knife to my throat."
"And you are nowhere near as shocked about that as you should be." Roommate twisted the knife until the flat of the blade lay against Civilian's skin -- and then he dragged it, achingly slow, over Civilian's jawline to rest against raw bitten lips. 
A wave of dizziness gripped him, driven by fear mixed with the heady, dangerous edge of want, the desire Civilian struggled with for so many months wrapping its claws around his chest. 
"Be a good boy and drop the knife."
Breath came fast and heavy as he willed himself to relax his fingers, to release the knife. Not that he would have even thought of it as a weapon and not a kitchen tool until his roommate demonstrated it. But with one having danced so close to his pulse, letting go of his own felt like a death sentence. 
The second he dropped the knife, his roommate twisted a hand into the fabric of his shirt and hauled him across the kitchen to pin him against the fridge. The smiling tomato magnet they grabbed as a joke at a yard sale clattered to the floor and broke into pieces. The roommate  doesn't so much as flinch, their gaze like stone, the knife never wavering from Civilian's neck.
He swallows thickly against the panic, never more afraid in his life than in this moment. He never thought death would look like his favorite person in the world ready to slit his throat with a paring knife. 
And yet the desire still thrummed beneath it all, a twisted hunger being fed from such close contact, like his body forgot to stop yearning in light of what his mind knew. But the stone-cold glint in his roommate’s eyes twisted his face from comfortingly familiar into dangerously unrecognizable. 
Seeing it shattered something in Civilian just like that stupid magnet. His eyes prickled and stung; the roommate's face turned blurry. Humiliated, he darted his gaze to the window, focusing on the speck of green of the neighbor’s tree swaying in the breeze. 
And waited for death. 
Time stretched long and excruciating between each heartbeat. Then the coolness of the knife disappeared, replaced by warm fingers that nudged his gaze back to his roommate’s.
“Hey,” the roommate said softly. 
That granite hardness of his gaze had melted into soft concern. The exact kind of look he gave Civilian each time a migraine flared up. The reminder of that felt as dangerous as the knife. It couldn’t be real. 
“Hey, it’s okay.”
The words hit him like a slap to the face. 
“Don’t say that!” Civilian hissed. “I didn’t do anything and you’re going to kill me.”
He flinched from the hand that raised up, knocking his head painfully against the fridge. But Roommate only brushed a stray tear away with his calloused thumb. 
“You’re right,” he said pensively. “You didn’t do anything. And I’m not going to kill you.”
He turned and tossed the knife into the sink. Civilian did not feel any safer, however. He felt like a bug under the shadow of a boot,  even as Roommate smoothed his hands over Civilian’s chest in a display of casual affection he would have died for a week earlier. 
“Here is what I am going to do,” he continued. “I’m going to finish dinner. You’re going to compose yourself in a long hot shower and when you get out we are going to eat and have a discussion about the way things are going to be from now on. Is that alright?”
Civilian nodded, not trusting his voice. What other answer could he possibly give?
Part two here
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allmyloveandyours · 1 year
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Astrology Observations 4!!!
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I lied when I said there'd be a break, but I didn't lie when I said I have a lot of thoughts. Take what resonates, ask for clarification/if you have questions. And I'm not a professional, so take with a grain of salt. Sugar even.
A Scorpio and Libra combo can make a very passive aggressive person. The more planets in either sign the more passive aggressive. Add points if in 12th house.
Neptune in 6th house may fall into patterns of using spirituality as a crutch. Something that may get neglected (especially if they have their Sun is in Pisces or in a water sign) is grounding themselves, so they throw themselves into it without setting up a stable foundation.
On that note, if you have a habit of giving in to the illusions of your Neptune sign, look to your Saturn to where to ground yourself, Jupiter to where you need to be optimistic, and Pluto where you need to be careful.
For example, if your Neptune is in 1st house (the house of appearance and how you present yourself), and you've fallen into the illusion of what other people's views of you are (or what you think them to be) or what they've projected onto you. Now say Saturn is in 3rd (the house of communication and mentality activity), you may need to stop the thoughts in their tracks as best as possible, journal it, maybe voice your opinions on how people are treating you (like straight up saying "I've noticed you've been doing [blank], could you stop?"), and build up a mental wall to it. Then looking at Jupiter which in this scenario is in 8th (the house of s*x, death, transformation), you have expansion and can trust in succeeding in transformations, and that whatever comes out of you standing up for yourself and making that change will work in your favor, and the knowledge that you know yourself better than others could be reassuring. Now let's say Pluto is in 6th house (the house of routine, health, and service), so you may need to be aware of this could happen in your daily life, and the constant of putting up boundaries may be needed, you could also end up resorting to ruining or falling too deep into your routine/work to ignore what's going on around you. You can use Pluto to prompt another transformation, this time within your health and work environment.
Obviously this may not work for everyone, but it works well for me if I get too depressed of unmotivated. Specially looking at Pluto at the end of the cycle can be empowering.
If you're looking for new ways to empower yourself/succeed, look at your Midheavens ruling planet and the house. Example: Aries Midheaven, with Mars in 9th. Putting your focus and drive into higher education, traveling, even traveling abroad or getting more involved in your spiritually/discovering a new one can steer you in the right direction for success.
People with Libra Venus may be accidental flirts. Depending on the house can also be where you're too generous, so if it's 5th, 8th, or 11th house, they DEFINITELY get accused of flirting. 2nd house may also give sugar daddy gives to people they love low-key.
Lilith in 7th house may have a habit of people only being "attracted" to them while in a relationship, and may get attempts from other people to break up the relationship. Another outcome could be having the keep their relationships secret/private. I've known a couple of people with this placement who've been in relationships for years and never told anyone for those reasons.
In that same vein, Venus in Scorpios are extremely private in relationships, and dislike when people try to dig for information.
Unreciprocated North Node conjunct Venus synastry is extremely uncomfortable. If the North Node doesn't love the Venus or loses trust, it creates a lot of one sided jealousy on the Venus' end.
I keep bringing up Gemini, mostly because I have my North Node and Saturn in it, but an important thing that isn't talked about enough is balance. In Mars it's a balance of passion and focus, mercury it's learning and listening, north node for me it's multiple activities and learning to juggle between all proportionally. I think the flaky nature that's kinda pinned on them is because of a lack of balance.
Capricorn Venus natives are truly are the most classic when it comes to love. They want to be treated with respect and what they deserve or they will leave. Also their love language may be gift giving, but more like flowers, or something that reminds you of them.
Sagittarius suns really do make fantastic teachers. They know how to captivate people and make them listen. Mix that with some Virgo and you have a teacher you'd contribute your success to.
Cancer Jupiters have the gift of emotional empathy and intelligence, but most (that I've come across) may ignore that ability in one on one scenarios due to being manipulated in the past. The house can tell how they were manipulated. Example is 2nd house would be with money and time, 4th could be comfort and home, 10th would be leeching off success and status.
Jupiter in 11th can point to someone not realizing their popularity, especially in a particularity humble sign like Virgo, Libra and Taurus.
Asteroid Nemesis (128) is surprisingly accurate. People may take too much stock into the harsher asteroids, but conjunct a planet it hasn't lied yet. Like Nemesis conjunct Uranus could mean people dislike how eccentric you are, or how progressive your views are.
Pluto square Venus could point to transformation out of bad relationships, or not letting transformation happen because of love. This placement could point to someone who changes for their lover instead of themselves.
Ceres making aspects to personal planets make the kindest people. Conjunct Mercury it could make someone who knows how to heal with words, or may write in a healing way/to heal. Sextile Saturn could bring healing in salability, and this person could be there whenever needed.
Chiron in positive aspects to Lilith can point to embracing your sensuality/embracing your darker side as a way to heal. The house can tell you where to channel it.
okay fr this time im taking a break i have stuff to do my brain is finally done... unless....
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floatyflowers · 4 months
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Sister Complex| Yandere! Oshi No Ko various x reader| Part Six
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<<< Part Five
The moment you return home alone, you go straight to your room and throw yourself on top of your bed.
You have decided to return home without Aqua and Ruby, already feeling depressed.
A feeling that you have bottled inside you since ever Ai passed away.
The reason why you like the fame you get from your YouTube channel is because you are trying to fill the empty hole inside of you.
Even though Ruby and Aqua try to always put you in a good mood, and take Ai's place but that is never enough.
There is something wrong, you feel it.
While deep in thought, your phone vibrates signing that you got a new massage.
You open the phone to see who sent you the massage.
Unknown                        5:18 PM
Can I call you?
You frown in confusion, thinking whether you should answer or not.
You                                  5:19 PM
No
You strangely wait for the number to reply but instead you get a call from the private number.
Taking a deep breath, you answer.
"Didn't I say no, creep?"
The man chuckles on the other line, happy to hear your annoyed voice.
"I couldn't help myself, (Y/n)"
The way he words out the sentence...the familiar voice...he sound like someone you know.
But who?
"Who are you?"
"Your father"
The answer made you freeze in shock.
"You are lying, my father is..."
You stop speaking when you realize you know nothing about your father.
Nothing at all, whether he is dead or alive.
The phone line falls silent for what seems like an eternity, but it's only been a split second.
You want to say something, ask more questions, but you just can't seem to form any words.
Suddenly, you hear a deep inhale on the other end, like he's about to say something important.
"I know this must be hard for you to hear, especially on the phone like this."
You play with your fingers nervously, not saying a word.
"But I want you to know that I've been wanting to reach out to you for a long time. Can we meet in person?"
The thought of meeting your father for the first time is overwhelming.
"How can I believe you? Why are you even speaking to me?" you demand.
Your eyes filling up with tears.
"I saw your videos"
Hikura smirks on the other side of the phone when he hears you whimper.
"What do you think of those videos?" you inquire.
"I wish to tell you in person, let us meet at a public cafe first"
You think for a moment.
"Which cafe?"
After he gives you directions and time you will meet him, the call ends right when your siblings return.
You quickly delete the massages and the call history.
"We are back!"
Ruby announced, as she entered with the blond boy.
"Why are you so tense" Aqua asks you.
"Nothing, I just got a lot of homework to finish" you lie.
"Let us help you after we change"
You smile and nod at Ruby.
"Sure"
Once they leave the room, you let out a relief sign.
Knowing very well that what you are going to do is dangerous and stupid.
But your curiosity to meet your father is going to kill you.
Hopefully it doesn't actually kill you.
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the-ineffable-dance · 4 months
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A Companion to Owls is my favorite of the minisodes. Possibly my favorite story in the whole show. But more than it being just good fun and visually amazing, (plus, it gives us Bildad the Shuhite, I mean, come on..)
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Job's story, really, is the beginning of "our side."
Before the Job story, Aziraphale and Crowley of course know each other, but I think it's still been a bit of feeling each other out. No one has really put themselves out where they could get into trouble. There's the chat on the walls of Eden, and then again at the Flood. In both of those, Crowley does a little pushing of Aziraphale's boundaries, but Aziraphale, regardless of his internal struggle, outwardly toes the party line... Heaven's plans, no matter how they might look, are in fact ineffable.
In Job, we see for the first time that they are beginning to really see each other. Aziraphale knows that Crowley doesn't want to kill off Job's goats or his children.
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Though, of course, he's got to be a little smug about it.
And even when Crowley puts that to the test when he's setting the house on fire, Aziraphale remains confident in Crowley's innate goodness. And is again proven right when Crowley miracles them all into the cellar.
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Crowley, for his part, knows that Aziraphale is starting to question the ineffable plan. God and Satan making bets, letting Job be tormented by demons, killing children... he sees the questions that Aziraphale is starting to have, and eases the path for him by being receptive to those questions.
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Here we also have the start of Aziraphale's hedonism and love of human things. He's not quite ready to take the step of drinking alcohol, but he does accept Crowley's temptation to eating... and realizes that he's starving. It's his first bite in his entire existence, and he eats an entire ox! It's a small step from there to other things that we see him loving in the present... wine, music, books, clothes (I'm looking at you, 1793), all the things the other angels look down on him for, and Crowley probably introduced him to.
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In 1941, they have the exchange, "You told me to trust you." "And you did." But I think that we have that here, too... for the very first time. When Sitis and Job are told that their children are dead, Aziraphale and Crowley put on quite the show with their cobbler/midwife and angel straight man performance. It's actually quite impressive... every time one of them leans on the other to keep up the charade, the other obliges...
It's important to remember just how dangerous this dance is for both of them. First of all, Crowley could not be in a worse place. Not only is there a host of angels here, Gabriel the Supreme Archangel is in the lead. To find a demon here, interfering in the ineffable plan, would certainly end in a smiting. His cleverness and the trust of Aziraphale are the only things that keep him one step ahead.
Secondly, Aziraphale himself is in great danger. Not only has he been collaborating with a demon, tempted into eating, and so on, but he is lying to Gabriel's face. We've seen him lie before. Most memorably to God when she asked where his sword went. But those were little white lies, with few ramifications. "These are his new children" is a direct contradiction to what the Plan is. He is for the first time, turning from the Heavenly Plan, and instead throwing in his lot with Crowley.
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Which brings me to my final point...
Aziraphale is terrified of falling. But he was willing to do it to save the children. And that is something that means a lot to Crowley. When he realizes that Aziraphale thinks he's already fallen, he does tease him a little bit, but more importantly, he is soft and kind, talking him through this huge change in worldview.
The most touching moment is when Crowley admits that this path he is walking and Aziraphale now finds himself on is lonely. Crowley has been feeling it since the Garden... but now, it will be less lonely. Aziraphale doesn't have to face it alone, because Crowley will be there, too. Now, they have "us."
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lxdymoon0357 · 1 month
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How about making Duna jealous by having Minho in the palm of your hands?! I mean like, reader definitely loves him, but she absolutely despises Minho cause she had already done some damage and so she likes to spoil him, flaunts that she has him, etc to both Duna and Wookyung? She's also rich and what not..
(You spoke literally my heart's desires and put them in a post!! Reader is described to have tattoos| Fem! Reader, reader is mentioned to have long hair| Mentions of SA, unhinge shit from Duna.)
© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.
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The other...better spouse..
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The moment Duna walked out of the shop, clutching a box of cigarettes, her eyes were burning to cry because it was the most sick and twisted dream because why was she seeing Minho standing outside a alcohol shop having a little person cling to him inside his black puffer jacket as he laughed softly?
She never knew he could laugh so beautifully, that he had creases under his eyes when he laughed or smiled, that he is very ticklish.. She noticed your long hair falling out of his puffer jacket as he laughed softly, before you finally came out of his jacket, enjoying yourself as you both talked and crossed the streets heading in her direction...
Duna never knew that The Byun Minho was capable of change...I mean, she honestly always wanted to put him in his place during sex, break him down, make him bed for her forgiveness, make him her own personal rape doll...She was confused as to how Minho could get anyone with his bitter, distasteful and gross personality and not even being big enough to pleasure someone...
Duna stood there frozen as you and Minho crossed, hand laced together, with him giggling at something you said while you couldn't bother to remove your eyes from him...How could you? He was just such a gorgeous human inside that hard exterior.
Just as you both got on the pavement, Minho froze as you finally turned away to meet the eyes of a girl, quite pretty but you weren't getting good vibes from her, You tightened your grip on Minho's hand ever so slightly,
"Who are you?" Duna asked you, quite audacious you guessed from her mannerisms, as you glared at her up and down before softly poking Minho's cheek and clinging to his arm more making Minho snap out of his trance as he awkwardly looked at you and Duna before shaking his head and saying,
"Ah, Uhm...Y/N..Jagi, this is Duna...My ex.." he said murmuring as you nodded in realization, so she was the one who cheated on him and the one who raped him...You glared at her angrily, before sighing, squeezing Minho's hands in yours softly before letting go and pushing the door of the shop Duna just came out of,
"I'll go get the things we need." you said going inside the shop as Duna stared at you with jealousy and anger, you were gorgeous, she couldn't lie, long hair, gorgeous fashion, you seemed smart, with the etiquette and the style of you clothing, it was also safe to assume you were also quite rich..
Minho sighed as he stood aside, wondering who'd make the first move as Duna walked closer, "Minho...Why'd you choose her?" she asked straight forward glaring at him, making chills go down his spine as he rubbed his nape and took a step back, "I..Uh.." he took a step back every time she took a step forward.
Duna softly took a hold of his wrist in hers, pulling him uncomfortably close to her, pushing him against the wall of a closed shop besides the one which was open where you were inside.
"You know I'm better than her, right? What is it about her that's better? Is she pretty? Rich? None of it, you know I tried to help you, I was just a bit mad back then..." Duna said, her words spilling out without her noticing as Minho seemed frozen, taking deep breathes as he shrunk into himself. The sight made her feel powerful.
but suddenly a sharp jerk pulled her back from her hair as she was thrown onto the ground as she looked up to meet your glaring eyes as tow large broad men stood besides you also staring at her seriously as you helped Minho while the other the two men glared at her,
"Please, do not dare to hurt Sir.Byun, otherwise we'd be contacting authorities." one of the man said as she could see you pepper Minho with kisses who was clinging to you like a little child.
Softly you rubbed his back, snapping your fingers and handing your bag of wines and another plastic bag of different things to a bodyguards while a expensive car pulled up close to you as Duan dusted herself and quickly got up with embarrassment.
You were simply trying to calm Minho and sat him down in the expensive sports car before turning to Duna and walking closer, your heels clacking on the side of the pavement as she took steps back before she was backed into the wall where she was pinning Minho a few seconds ago,
"Listen, bitch. If I see you getting even a hundred miles closer to Minho, I'd take a thousand amount of evidence that you sexually assaulted him and get you a good life sentence." you said grabbing her jaw and grinning at her with mock and disgust, tightening your grip on her jaw making it ache,
"You're lucky it's Minho's kindness of not wanting to ruin your already no-good, pathetic, little life by not reporting you, but I won't be kind...Tell that to the little freak Cha Wookyung as well." you said letting go of her jaw as she rubbed it before throwing the cigarette box she dropped in her face and turning on your heel and sitting in the car.
As you sat inside the car and it drove off, Duna could just stand there staring down at the box off cigarette you threw in her face, realizing maybe you were the better one out of both of you...
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alchemicaladarna · 1 month
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Bad's behaviour yesterday was so, so weird, and it FRUSTRATES me because it's either not that deep and he's just being silly goofy or this is like his first puzzle piece for a grander plan.
If he's being silly just for the sake of it, why is he lying to the ghosties? There is no mystery to his actions. We know he's had some involvement with the rabbits' deaths, even if he didn't directly kill them. He buried the bodies and hid the evidence of the deaths, thus naturally making him suspicious. BUT WE KNEW THAT ALREADY.
He is acting the way he did during the furniture incident, but unlike that time, there is no mystery- there is nothing to hide from the ghosties because we know about the bunnies' deaths. We know he threatened and haunted Missa. So why would he lie?
Unless, he's not lying at all. Yesterday, Bad said he doesn't remember anything, except meeting up with Missa. After that, the way he describes it, genuinely seems like he has no recollection of his off-putting behaviour. He affirmed this twice (once at his house, and once, later at spawn before he discovered Bobinho was stalking him and taking pictures). It was as if he passed out, and had no control of his body. You could almost say it was as if he was possessed.
Do I have any direct evidence to back that theory? Ehhh not really. Not yet, at least. But you best believe Bad was acting very strange with Missa that night and it seems that he is definitely hiding something from the audience.
One thing that does tip me off though, is his question, "We're friends Missa, aren't we?" Now, this could be referring to a lot of things. Bad could simply be threatening Missa, or this could be a product of his memory loss (asking if he and Missa are actually friends because he genuinely doesn't remember) OR this could be another entity trying to affirm if Bad and Missa are friends or not.
Either way, I just think it's so weird and frustrating because one, his behaviour was just straight up horror movie antagonist, and two, the supernatural weather powers happened again (first time we saw this was the end of the Acceptance stream I think) when he became angry at Missa for thinking he worked with the raccoons, and the lightning strikes destroying the ominous picture.
Tldr: Bad is lying (which makes no sense) ; something or someone else possessed him momentarily
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ladyluscinia · 8 months
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Izzy Hands Is Manipulative, But Not That Way
...or I finally finish that long ass meta post about why I love the fucking Navy Plot lol
The Izzy manipulation debate has been really interesting to me pretty much since it started, because I'd see a post arguing he's manipulating Edward and go "No, and he couldn't if he tried" and then the next post would say he sucks at manipulation because he's a blunt fucking instrument and I'd go "Yea- wait. Hmm. No, he can be targeted and tricky as fuck." Which does, on its surface, seem like a contradictory stance, but I swear it works.
Because the thing with Izzy - and this is such a fun thing imo - is there are two core types of manipulation that characters engage in, and Izzy fucking sucks at the one you expect his style of antagonist to focus on. But he's scarily good at the other.
Long meta under the cut, so get comfy.
...
From his role under Edward to the protagonist vs antagonist dynamic setup to his introduction scenes, Izzy is very much invoking the conniving second in command. We know this character from other media. He doesn't have the full power he wants so he's constantly scheming to get it. He can't or won't challenge his boss for some reason, so he settles for being the devil on their shoulder or working behind their back. He's the voice constantly ready to inflame insecurities and turn relationship cracks into chasms, and usually he's lying constantly to do so. His fingerprints are all over his boss's problems up to the moment they show some weakness, and then their loyal second goes right for the backstab. He is THE ambitious manipulator. The shady advisor. The snake.
And then you actually look at Izzy and he is not that guy. In fact, it's a testament to the strength of Edward's character arc how much his evil little henchman is not causing his problems.
So - Izzy and manipulation:
Izzy Can't Convince People To Do Things
Like. He really can't.
This interpersonal struggle is fairly fundamental to his character. And moreover, it's a skill that Izzy is intensely aware that he lacks, so usually he doesn't even try.
In his first episode he walks right up to Buttons and just straight up asks him for the information on his party. He doesn't even resolve to steal the hostages until he realizes that Stede has lost them in the bush already, and Izzy obtains them by buying them. When Stede confronts him they end up splitting the pair in a very above-board negotiation and he pretty much just goes with what Stede suggests.
Then in 1x03, people make a big deal of Izzy "manipulating" Edward by not clarifying that Stede didn't know who he was when he turned down the invite, but kind of importantly he repeats the damning line of the conversation faithfully. If he was going to lie, then why not lie? Why even go see Stede at all? And, if he didn't want Stede dead until after the conversation (understandable, tbh, since "Iggy" was stab-worthy), surely he could invent a better insult to rile Edward up. It makes his omission hit more like being bitchy about Stede not recognizing the obvious - namely that Izzy Hands works for Blackbeard and literally everyone knows this - than a slander campaign to get him killed. And once we properly meet Izzy and Edward in 1x04, Izzy's inability to manipulate becomes his main struggle.
Izzy's a blunt and direct person. He leans on authority bestowed by Blackbeard to take control of situations, playing the role he's supposed to play, and without it he lacks a Plan B. In 1x04 he doesn't have any authority over Edward, so his efforts to get him to take the danger of the Spanish seriously amount to "Well as bored as you might be, if you don't make a decision soon we're gonna fucking die." And this is true! There might be a very subconscious attempt at manipulation in his resignation speech before the "That's Blackbeard. I'm Stede, remember?" line - of the piss him off to get him to get his shit together variety - but Edward literally makes a joke out of it so not exactly effective.
And once Edward stops giving Izzy authority in general, his plan to make Lucius do stuff is still just... brute force. Which works at first when Lucius doesn't realize that Izzy's on his own now, and stops working as soon as Fang breaks ranks. His last ditch blackmail attempt isn't manipulative either - he just plans to tell the truth to Pete and assumes he'll be pissed about it. My guy loses a fight over the pirate equivalent of making an uppity employee clean the coffee maker while the boss is out. Not only does he fail to manipulate the crew in a conniving antagonist way... he doesn't even try.
I mean, the only time he (somewhat) succeeds in talking someone into things is 1x06. Getting Edward to agree to killing Stede isn't really manipulation - Izzy gets Fang and Ivan to back him in a very straightforward way because they all actually do have a stake in this - but he's passably able to push Stede to go through with the fuckery via fake compliments. It's not exactly high level work, though. Stede being vulnerable to ego-stroking / dares is pretty obvious.
So what is Izzy good at?
Well, if you can't make people do anything other than what they were going to do in the first place, you might as well lean into that.
...
Izzy Manipulates Situations, Not People
Situational manipulation is one of those fictional tropes that rarely can happen in real life, but there's not much resemblance because real life rarely gives you all the building blocks for a proper gambit and lets you loose. Too many factors. In narratives, though? It becomes one of my favorite ways of having a character be clever.
And before I get into this too much, a really fun sidenote - I think Izzy does situational manipulation more like the way protagonists do it. See, antagonists are usually emotionally and situationally manipulative (ex: provoking the hero to lash out and using it to frame them for a bigger crime), but it's not a good look when your hero drives the target to do something bad and then punishes them for it. So heroes lean on stuff like Batman Gambits - where the lynchpin of the scheme is the target fucking themselves over by behaving completely in character. They've written Izzy so ineffective at emotional manipulation that he pretty much has to rely on other characters' flaws or histories to cause problems, which has a very similar result. And it's wild.
...
Going back to the 1x03 confrontation in Jackie's bar, Izzy doesn't really do anything abnormal in how he conducts himself, but people are picking up on an agenda for a reason. Namely, the whole damn conversation quickly turns into a trap, and Izzy fully sits back and watches Stede spring it from sheer idiocy.
There's no indication that when Izzy walked up he wasn't going to carry out his task with all the bitchy professionalism expected of him, while probably hoping that Stede would eventually stick his foot in his mouth without Izzy's help (assuming he's the kind of idiot Izzy thinks he is). His first section of this conversation is nearly polite:
Izzy (about the Nose Jar): "I have a few colleagues in there." Stede: "Ugh. You again." Geraldo: "Mr. Hands, welcome. It's been a while." Izzy: "(To Geraldo) Yeah, because I hate this fucking place. (To Stede) But for some inexplicable reason, my boss would like a word with you. Bonnet."
It's not until Stede starts talking that I think Izzy clues in that Stede doesn't actually know who his boss is. He didn't introduce himself until the literal last second of their 1x02 interaction, so it wasn't obvious Stede wasn't literally bolting into the forest in horrified realization.
And Stede? He goes hard on being a bitch right out the gate. Brushes Izzy off, tells him to "get in line", calls him the wrong name, says he doesn't care who Izzy is...
Izzy so far has met Stede in a public place, in front of people who clearly treat Izzy with respect and fear. He doesn't bring up their previous interaction, Stede does. He doesn't even goad Stede beyond existing. He corrects him on his name, and watches it not register in the slightest. The next line is the clincher:
Izzy (slightly incredulous): "So I'll tell my Captain that you're declining then, yeah?"
As Izzy is speaking the conversation becomes a trap - he chooses a reasonable way to refer to Edward that isn't "Blackbeard" and waits to see if Stede will make this worse. The jump from "no I'm busy" to "tell him he has terrible taste in flunkies and he can go suck eggs in Hell" is all Stede, completely ignoring context clues as Geraldo stares on in horror. Hell, Jackie only refrains from later de-nosing Stede on the spot because Geraldo knows what's up, and Stede still doesn't pick up on the fact he should maybe be asking some questions (though I'll give him the knife was distracting).
Izzy returns to the ship, quotes Stede directly for his damning line, and waits to see what Edward will do with it. It's not good behavior on his part (and if he could have seen the future he might have tried worse), but switching mid-conversation to offering Stede an opportunity to fuck himself over is a very different mindset than simply lying to / provoking Stede or Edward to get what he wants. He's mostly being petty.
Stede did insult Edward of his own volition, after all, and just because Izzy fudges the truth to hide he didn't know he was insulting Blackbeard instead of just Izzy and a random stranger doesn't change that. All Izzy did to "escalate" that conversation was give Stede a second opening to do so himself.
But there is a far better example of Izzy masterfully manipulating a situation than this in-the-moment bit of pettiness, so let's move onto my favorite bit... explaining in extensive and slightly awestruck detail why the Navy plot. Fucking. Rules. Because it does. Ready?
...
How to Mastermind the Decisive Removal of One Stupid Fucking Stede Bonnet Over Drinks
Ahem. The Navy plot. Masterclass in intimate betrayal. Izzy's biggest escalation in the total collapse of Edward and Izzy's relationship, but also a completely fucking fascinating glimpse into whatever tangled web of codependency they've got going on, because Edward isn't even mad after 1x09. This wordcount is going to be insane enough without me getting into the Blackhands relationship connotations, so I will... attempt... to stick to breaking down the actual scheme.
And what a scheme it was.
Let's start at the beginning. Jack showing up to lure them into the trap at the start of 1x08? Nope, earlier. Izzy getting kicked off the ship and going to Jackie at the end of 1x06? Further back. Edward proposing the "kill Stede" plan at the end of 1x04, which is the domino that starts all this, right? Closer, but still no.
Izzy's first appearance on screen is in episode 1x02, and that episode is where the seeds of the Navy plot are first planted. See, during Stede's confrontation with Izzy, both of the hostages chime in:
Hostage 1 (Wellington): "Believe him, he's quite insane." Hostage 2 (Hornberry): "He does have the eyes of a madman. Sorry, you do."
Wellington says his line in a tone of voice that clearly indicates a story to tell, and it should also be noted that he is the same one who earlier jumped at the chance to tell the tribe chief about Stede murdering their captain - Nigel. And he's the one that Izzy leaves with, in a sour mood and wanting information about this "Stede Bonnet" character.
When Izzy later reaches out to the Navy, it's no coincidence that he finds Chauncey. He's known since right after their first meeting that Stede was directly responsible for the murder of an Admiral's brother and that the English Navy would know soon enough, since he was literally about to ransom a hostage back to them who would tell the story. And he filed that information away until it was useful or relevant like a clever pirate should.
Moving on to Jackie's bar in 1x03, Izzy gets more potentially useful observations / inspiration. Jackie is actually the first person in the series to make a deal with a naval power. Izzy and crew track the Revenge to the Spanish warship, which means they must see Geraldo sold out Stede to them. Izzy isn't stupid. He knows Geraldo and Spanish Jackie, knows that she's the brains and brawn behind this deal, and has seen enough of Stede that he'd absolutely believe that he did something to get Jackie pissed enough to plot his murder. File away Jackie wants Stede dead and details of how she nearly succeeded in offing him for later.
Izzy spends 1x05 up to the fuckery demonstration observing Stede's crew while waiting for Edward to pull the trigger. I definitely want to note the scene where they interrogate the Frenchman at the beginning of 1x05, because Izzy is staring directly at Stede as he leans away from Edward threatening violence (we know this will later be in his love montage so not actually a turn off, lol, but like... it looked like one). His opinion of the crew is that they like to fuck around without structure (1x05 during the party), probably that they enjoy more standard pirate levels of violence (not shown directly since they are kept out of the 1x05 raid, but fairly obvious), and that they are really easily awestruck by the chance to hear "real pirates" tell charismatic stories (1x06 ghost story).
Any of that sounding like someone we know?
And now to go back to Izzy in 1x06, when he gets sick of Edward being cagey about the plan to kill Stede and decides to "make" him stop stalling, he's straightforward again. Getting Ivan and Fang to back him isn't emotionally manipulative, but it does give him weight in the conversation. They are the ones who bring up the whole "love of a pet makes a man weak" thing, and they do it in the context of calling out hypocrisy. Izzy knows the standards Edward holds his crew to. He lets them convince Edward it's time.
Taking the chance to suggest Stede try a fuckery is a strong blend of situational and emotional manipulation, and later challenging him to a formal duel knowing he'd be overconfident enough to accept is more situational again. Even the terms of the duel are designed to take advantage of the situation. And then Izzy loses in the most comedy way possible, Edward lets him get banished, and Izzy decides that if he was ok with just sending Stede Bonnet on his way to fuck-off before... he's fucking gonna kill him now.
My guy is not a creative thinker, but he's definitely a logistical one. And as he rows away from that ship, all the pieces fall into place.
First, Spanish Jackie. Who listens to him bemoan his relationship woes because she likes him (Izzy gets Jackie in the divorce). Who wants Stede dead and has the clout to summon and deal with a distasteful ally - Chauncey. Together, they concoct an arrangement where a trap will be set and Chauncey gets Stede and only Stede. This isn't a tip-off or a free-for-all. Stede comes from Chauncey's world and they are sending him back. Permanently.
Then it's time for the trap itself, which needs to do two things: get the Revenge somewhere that Chauncey can corner it, and get Edward out of there. And Izzy? Izzy knows Edward. Knows there's one particular person in his past that will have no trouble integrating with the crew, getting Edward to act more like a pirate than a gentleman, and who happens to have a great ambush location on hand.
I've said this before but I'm gonna say it again - I don't think outside characters realize how hard and fast Edward is falling for Stede. The BlackBonnet bonding moments happen almost exclusively when they are alone. The place Izzy dramatically fails to manipulate the situation is not having the evidence he would need to predict Edward going back for Stede. He (and Jack) both think that a precise wedge between BlackBonnet - one that Jack delivers near flawlessly by playing into real issues - will be enough to remind Edward that Stede isn't his people. This isn't a plan to murder the love of Edward's life while his back is turned. It's a plan to get rid of Stede, and remind Edward why he was on board with doing that in the first place. "That's fair," Izzy says about a punch to the face.
Instead, Izzy's plot accidentally backs Edward into a corner and forces him to publicly pull a grand-gesture relationship level-up that he was not emotionally ready for, and the fallout from that explosion is way worse than any of our conspirators were counting on.
Still... you gotta admit. It was a really good plan.
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roseghoul26 · 19 days
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Javier Escuella x gn!Reader
Synopsis: For the last few nights, Javier’s guitar has been disappearing at night, returning back to its spot in the morning. No one in camp seems to know where it's going, and he’s getting real tired of his belongings getting taken. Tags: Not Beta Read, I Wrote This In Like Two Hours, Developing Relationship, Crushes, Fluff, You Steal Javier’s Guitar, Turns Out I Can Write Something Short(er), Arthur Morgan is a Nosy Bastard, But We Love Him Author's Note: i wanted to try writing from a different pov, and i needed a break from writing smut so here’s this little drabble <3
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For the life of him, Javier could not figure out where his guitar was disappearing to each night. 
He prided himself on being a very observant man, someone with eyes on the back of his head, as the saying went. He was quick to notice when someone was attempting to swindle him, pickpocket him, deceive him in any way. It’s how he’d survived so many years on his own, and how he excelled in the gang. 
Even when it came to his belongings in camp, he kept a close eye on them. If he saw someone approaching his tent, even if he trusted them, he’d always keep an eye on their hands, not too keen on having someone steal his hard-earned belongings. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his campmates, but he lived with a group of professional thieves; he could never be too cautious.  
When it came to his guitar, his most treasured belonging, he watched it like a hawk whenever he was lingering around camp. If it wasn’t in his hands currently being played, then it was propped up on a barrel or stool, always in line of sight. So you’d think he’d notice when someone took it, right?
You’d think so, but the currently empty spot where it should be said otherwise. Every night for the last couple days, without fail, it had been snatched, only to be returned an hour later. The first time it happened, he nearly lost his mind, practically tearing apart the camp to find it. His relief was immeasurable when he saw it returned an hour later, with not a single scratch on it. He had then chalked it up to having too many drinks that night and forgetting where he had set it.
When the second night came around and it disappeared again, he was less worried than before, but he still began to ask around camp, keeping an eye out for the wooden instrument. Charles had just shrugged when he asked where it was, but even in the dim light he could see a slight grin on his face. He refused to elaborate further when Javier asked, and after a few moments of getting only silence to his question, he moved on to the next person.
Arthur was even less of a help, saying he saw someone take it, but didn’t say who or to where. He had cursed at Arthur then, and the other man just laughed in response. 
Hosea hadn’t seen anything, apparently, and Sean was too drunk to even make out the whiskey bottle in his hand. Pearson was too preoccupied with making the camp dinner, and Mary-Beth claimed she was too busy reading to see anything, but the lack of a book near her made her lie very clear. 
It was like the whole camp was conspiring against him, making him look like a fool. Every person he asked either feigned ignorance, or just straight up refused to tell him. It was when he asked Tilly that he got any sort of clue. She had pointed him in your direction, saying that he should ask you if you’d seen it. 
Javier wasn’t sure what to make of you. The newcomer of the Van Der Linde gang, you’d been with them for about a month, and Javier had had very little opportunities to speak to you, always on different jobs for the camp. When he did speak to you, it was quick conversations, or around the campfire with the others. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you; it was quite the opposite. There was something intriguing about you, something that he couldn’t quite put a label on. You were talented, that was undeniable, and he’d heard nothing but praise about you from Dutch, which made you good his book. 
But as he glanced over to where Tilly was pointing, any plan of speaking to you went right out the window. He quite literally stumbled over his words as he talked to Tilly, a small chuckle leaving her that he missed as he continued to watch you. You were sitting around the fire, in the middle of talking with Bill, Hosea, and Dutch. The light from the fire illuminated your face, and you felt his heart begin to race as he watched a beautiful smile appear on your face.
Another thing that Javier prided himself on was his confidence. He was suave, a charmer, and could talk his way out of anything. Yet as he watched you, all that confidence seemed to be sucked away, and the thought of talking to you became a daunting, impossible task; it was almost pathetic.
So, instead of following Tilly’s suggestions, he had just wished her a good night, heading back to his tent. He had to do a double take when he saw his guitar propped up in his usual spot, still in the same condition as it was prior. He felt like he was going insane. 
Instead of playing like he normally did, he just went straight to bed, much to everyone’s confusion. He was confused, and not just about his guitar. He was confused on why he had reacted the way he did when he saw you. He’d never really thought of you in that way before, but now that he did, he couldn’t stop. Has he always found you that… beautiful? Was the reason why he didn’t talk to you not because of conflicting schedules, but because of his cowardice?
He didn’t sleep well that night.
He expected the next night to be the same thing, but was almost disappointed to find his guitar untouched the entire day. He even made a point not to play it, but there were no takers, and he went to bed even more confused.
It disappeared that night, and he somehow managed to not see who did it. It was like they were a phantom, invisible only to him. He practically stared holes into the empty spot as he awaited for the person to return to it, but when an hour passed and no one showed up, he got up, legs aching from sitting still for so long. A disbelieving sigh, followed by a string of curses in Spanish spilled from his mouth when there, behind him at one of the other campfires, the guitar sat. Arthur just smiled at him when Javier raised a brow in question, and it took every ounce of willpower in his body to not throttle the other man.
The rest of the week went like that. No matter how hard he tried, or how many “traps” he set up, he couldn’t catch the little thief. It was almost funny, the entire situation, but he was far too frustrated to find any amusement with it. 
He had tried multiple times during that week to approach you, but it was like the universe hated him. One time, he nearly tripped over his own feet while making his way towards you, and you luckily didn’t see. When he successfully was able to walk, you were called away by Dutch, an apologetic look on your face as you walked away. 
But most days, he just couldn’t bring himself to approach you. The others, Charles and Arthur especially, had picked up on his predicament, one of the kind enough to not tease him for it. The other, more specifically Arthur, found great pleasure in tormenting him about it. Charles had to stop him from attacking the other man, and that’s how he currently found himself alone in the woods, calming himself down with a cigarette. Normally, he would use his guitar as an outlet, but to his not-surprise, it was missing. 
It had been a while since he was this far away from camp as Horseshoe Overlook at night. It was almost eerily peaceful, the sound of crickets and nocturnal animals the only thing he could hear. It was even colder, and he was grateful that he had slipped on a jacket earlier in the night. 
Grass and branches crunched beneath his feet as he walked further into the woods, no intent behind his motions except for exploring. That was until he heard something in the distance, so light that he thought he was imagining it for a moment. It was music, a lone guitar, to be exact. Tales of hearing music in the woods from his childhood flooded his mind, yet he didn’t feel scared. Weirdly enough, he felt at ease, and he found himself walking closer to the sound. 
It got louder as he went down the hill, and as he got closer he heard a voice accompanying the guitar. It was soft, uncertain almost, yet it was quite beautiful. It pulled at him, almost like a siren’s song, and he continued to make his way toward it, an excited energy buzzing in his body. 
To say he was shocked to see you sitting against a rock, guitar in hand, singing those stunning melodies, would be an understatement. You had your back to him, and you doubt you could hear him approaching, and he glanced at the guitar in your hands. His new suspicions were confirmed when he was the familiar faded oak instrument in your hand; you were the one taking his guitar each night. If it were any other person, he would be pissed off. Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset at you. Instead, he was amused, the hilarity of the situation finally revealing itself to him, and for once he didn't feel the need to run the other way instead of talking to you.
He stomped out the cigarette, still going unnoticed by you. Not wanting to startle you too badly, he cleared his throat, jumping himself a bit when you immediately stopped. There was now a gun in your hand, aimed directly at him, and he held his hands up. When you were able to make out it was just him in the darkness, you relaxed, holstering your gun. “Javier,” you breathed out, and he felt his heart jump at the way you said his name. “I’m so sorry…”
He waved it off. “I startled you. No need to apologize. I’d be a bit more concerned if you hadn’t done that.”
You huffed out a laugh. “So it’s good to be jumpy, then. Noted.”
“Being ‘jumpy’ keeps you alive. Heard way too many stories of people being a little too slow on the draw, and end up dead because of it.” 
You just hummed thoughtfully, before a look of concern crept on your face. “I wasn’t disturbing you, was I?” You gestured to the guitar. “I thought I was far enough away from camp, but if you need me to move…”
“You’re fine,” he reassured. “And besides, even if I could hear you all the way from camp, you wouldn’t have disturbed me. You play wonderfully, and your voice is, well, beautiful.”
He swore you blushed at the praise, ducking your head in embarrassment. He watched as your fingers danced over the frets, almost like you were doing it out of nervous habit. “You’re too kind, Javier.”
“How long have you been playing?” He asked, taking a few steps toward you.
“Since I was a child.” You let out a breath, your head resting against the rock behind you. “Here,” you patted the ground beside you, “come sit.”
Praying that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself, he complied, your shoulders brushing as he sat. You didn’t seem to mind, not pulling away. In fact, you almost seemed to relax even more, but he quickly banished that train of thought. He was reading too much into it. 
You continued. “I’m admittedly a bit rusty; I stopped playin’ a few years back. But then I saw the guitar in camp, and Arthur said it didn’t belong to anyone and I, dunno, just got the urge to start playin’ again.” 
He had to bite back the laughter and the threat towards Arthur’s wellbeing that almost spilled from him. Of course Arthur was behind all this, the nosy bastard. He couldn’t tell if he was grateful or not, though. 
“You should start playing in camp. They’re probably tired of hearing me play all the time.”
He couldn’t help the small smile that grew on his lips at the excited look on your face. “You play too?”
He nodded. “I do. I realize now you probably haven’t heard me yet.” And so you don’t realize who’s guitar that actually is.
You shook your head, the motion causing your arms to continuously brush against him. “Well, then how long have you played?” You shot his question back at him.
“Only during the past couple of years. Picked it up because I needed something to occupy my time, and I found I rather enjoyed it. Let’s just say, though, you’re much better than me.”
“Well, I don’t know ‘bout that,” you laughed. “I haven’t even heard you play yet.” You tried to hand him the guitar, but he just held his hand up, shaking his head lightly. It was adorable, the way you almost pouted. 
“I promise, you’ll hear me soon enough. For now that guitar’s better off in your hands.” 
You sighed, barely conceding. “Fine. But don’t get annoyed if I nag you ‘bout it.”
“You couldn’t annoy me if you tried,” Javier admitted, almost a bit too honestly. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from; it was like the filter on his mouth just shut off, scared off by your proximity. You cocked your head, confused, and Javier elaborated a bit further. “If it was any other person that was taking my guitar each night, then we’d have issues. But I don’t mind if it’s you.”
Shock then mortification washed over your face, and Javier regretted telling you for a moment, missing that soft smile. “This… this is yours?” You asked, voice rising in volume as you gestured to the instrument. You groaned when he nodded, head slumping against the rock, defeated. “And I’ve just been takin’ it each night. Javier, I am so sorry-”
Javier chuckled a bit. “Like I said, I don’t mind. You’ve treated it well, which is more than I can say for the others when it comes to my stuff.”
His words seemed to just go in one ear and straight out the other. Your cheeks had darkened from embarrassment, and he would’ve found it cute if you weren’t so upset. “But it’s not alright! I should’ve asked, I… I should’ve known Arthur was lyin’ when he said it didn’t belong to anyone. Oh, I’m gonna kill him,” you snarled, getting up quickly, not before gently setting the guitar in Javier’s lap.
He didn’t let you get too far, his hand instinctively reaching up to grab your wrist, halting you immediately. You were both equally shocked, both pairs of eyes glancing to where he was currently touching you. His heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t let go, gently pulling you back towards him. “Stay. Please.”
You continued to stare at him, moth agape, and for a moment Javier thought he misread everything. But his worries about disgusting or upsetting you were quickly discarded when a bright grin adorned your face, a pleasant light in the darkness of night. With a gentle tug, Javier brought you back down to where you had just been sitting, his hand never leaving your wrist. It was weird, how quickly his body had missed the heat of you, and he unconsciously felt himself pressing close to your side. 
Or maybe you were the one pressing into him. He couldn’t tell. 
“I’m sorry.” He heard you apologize yet again, and he let out a lighthearted scoff.
“How many times do I have to say that it’s alright? I’m not lying, I swear!”
“And that’s what Arthur said, but here we are.” Even though your words were accusatory, he still heard a slight laugh behind them. “He was ‘bout to face my anger if he had just ruined anythin’ with you.”
“What do you mean?” He tried to not sound too hopeful.
“Well, I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you, to get to know you,” you admitted, no longer looking him in the eye. “But I thought by doin’ all this,” you pointed at the guitar in his lap,” that I ruined any chance of creatin’ any sort of… friendship with you.”
“Only a friendship, cariño?” There was that confidence he was known for, back now that he realized that his desire to know you wasn’t so one-sided. 
Your head snapped to him when he said that, eyes going wide. “I… well…” you were extremely flustered, and Javier found great joy in the fact that he had done that to you. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”
“Yes, we will.” He murmured. He finally let go of your wrist, smiling a bit at the way you seemed to sadden, but his touch wasn’t gone for long. Running his fingers across the back of your hands, he then interlocked them, resting them on your thighs. 
Another beautiful smile from you dazzled him, and he sighed in contentment when you tentatively rested your head on his shoulder. In no world did he imagine that this was how his night would end, but he was certainly not complaining, especially when you moved impossibly closer to him. 
When the two of you returned back to camp hours later, hand in hand, guitar in your own, laughter making you breathless, he barely noticed the looks from the others, too caught up in you to even bother to look elsewhere. Something new flickered in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a while, and it took until he tried to fall asleep to put a name to it. 
For a moment, he thought it was just love, but even it was overshadowed by the other thing he was feeling: hope. For the first time in a long time, Javier Escuella went to bed with hope for the next day, and he had you to thank.
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