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myntrose · 2 months

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ೃ⁀➷partners in crime ︻デ═一

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ft: Alastor x gn! reader

summary: It's another night at the hotel. Everyone is lounging around the shared space, or sitting at the bar. With a boost of confidence (and a few drinks) Angel finally asks the burning question everyone had : How did you and Alastor meet?

cw: demi! Alastor, established relationship(married), Alastor and reader meet when they were alive, reader is an assassin , killing and mild gore (it's alastor yall), a lot of petnames, no use of y/n, no beta we die like men

a/n: it's the way alastor got me smiling and kicking my feet. he got me to break my 1 year hiatus LMAO. also, I am aware that he's ace. I myself am somewhere along the demi spectrum, so this fic is purely for comfort n coping. if you don't like it, pls ignore :,D

wc: 1.5 k (1,469 words)

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The hotel common was filled with low gentle music and idle chatter. Vaggie and Charlie were on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. Nifty was running around chasing some poor roach. Even Cherri was here, with Sir Pentious attempting to flirt with her once again.

Husk was behind the bar, in ordinary fashion. Although he was mostly listening and doing his job, he would occasionally chide into the conversation the other two residents at the hotel were having. Angel was in the middle of telling you about how much of a headache Val was, while you gave him you condolences. It seemed like the only person missing was the radio demon himself, who was probably in his tower, making a new broadcast.

"Speakin of which..." Angel, who noticed Alastor's lack of presence, noted "I got a question for ya toots. How is it that tall, red and creepy managed to bag you as a partner? You're sweet and all, I get that. But how did you even meet-"

The loud slam of drinks caused the peace within the hotel to halt . Husk shoots a stern glare towards Angel, almost to warn him, be cautious about asking question's about Alastor and his darling, you never know if he's listening.

"It's alright, Husk" You send him a sincere smile. While he would never trust your husband, he can't help but believe your words.

"Well, Angel, let's start with this. If you've ever wondered why I'm down here in the first place, it's because of the occupation I had when I was alive. That's actually how I met Alastor."

Oh, maybe you were a thief and were trying to steal something from Alastor. Or maybe a detective that was on the case to solve his murders. Or maybe-

"I was hired to assassinate one of his targets."

oh.

You couldn't help but laugh at Angels' reaction. Sure, you were kind to those in the hotel, and definitely not as threatening as most overlords. He, and most people you met in Hell, just assumed you committed some mundane crime and got the unfortunate eternal punishment .

Taking a small sip of your drink, you start to recollect the unforgettable night that would define your current relationship.

It was supposed to be like any other job that you were given. Your employer would hand you a file, you would find the target, and get paid in return. Maybe it wasn't the most ethical way to make money, but hey, you knew how to kill so you made it work.

You had followed your target into the bar, while waiting away in the corner. Though your eyes were focused on them the entire night, you couldn't help but feel another pair of eyes on you.

It was probably some random patron in the bar, you guessed. It wasn't for another hour when you noticed that your target had left the vicinity.

The streets were dark, with the occasional street light every block or so. It was perfect place to finish your job. All you needed was for your target to turn into some alleyway, and as quietly as you followed him, you'd quietly go for the kill-

Quietly. Hold on, why was it so quite?

Looking up the street, you noticed that what was once where your target stood was now empty. There was no way he outran you, given that you would have heard his footsteps. To the right of you were the woods, maybe he took a detour?

No, everything felt wrong. Every single thought in your brain was screaming to run, to grab your gun that was hidden beneath your coat, to get out of here-

"Careful my dear, we wouldn't want you getting hurt now, would we?"

A cold blade found its way to your neck. Two very disturbing facts became known to you. First, was the fact that the blade was already stained red. And second, you were about to be the second kill of the night.

A million thoughts ran through your mind. Was this how you were going to die? How fast could you grab your gun? Would your employer be pissed off that you died in the job? With your eyes shut closed, you waited for the knife to make contact.

"Now now, there's no need to be so scared my dear! My, you look like a deer in headlights!"

...what?

Opening your eyes, you're met with the mysterious man who just had his weapon on you seconds ago. He seemed vaguely familiar, probably having seen him at the bar you frequent.

"It seems that I've caused you quite a scare. Do know that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to see for myself this new assassin I've heard so much about! You've caused quite the gossip, my dear. Makes good conservation."

You continued to stand in silence, with the initial shock of almost dying wearing off now. As mad as you were that you got caught, you were equally confused on just who this man was. With some more listening to his voice, the answer popped into your mind.

"You- you're that new radio host! Alastor, was it?"

Alastor's smile grew at the acknowledgment. "Indeed I am! Glad to know you've heard about me."'

Had anyone walked into the conversation you two were having, they would have assumed it was one between new acquaintances. In which one has a knife in their hand, while the other has a gun.

"You see, my dear, I've heard quite a bit about your line if work. While I am more than capable of... dealing with others, I propose that we work out some sort of deal. One where you can finally stop working for that employer of yours, and actually make a profit off your talents."

Alastor put out a hand, waiting, watching to see how you'd respond. It's been a long night for you, and you had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time you saw. Plus, if working with him meant you'd finally have to stop answering to your boss, then why the hell not. You take his hand, before agreeing to this proposition.

"...and since then, we've been business partners. Our relationship kind of just happened after a few moths."

It was nice to look back to when you first met your now-husband. Looking around the bar, you noticed that you weren't just talking to Angel. At some point, unbeknownst to you, everyone at the hotel had come over to listen to your story time.

"Well toots, I figured you had to be some sort of crazy to date smiles, but I guess it takes one to know one." Angels says while taking a shot, still reeling with that fact that someone as kind as you was a killer. Head nods and murmurs of agreement spread within the group.

Before you could say anything, a pool of dark clouds appeared to your side. From the shadows, the very man you were taking about stood before you.

"Hey, Al."

He faces you with his signature grin, before turning to the rest of the residents.

"It seems that I've became the topic of conversion while I was gone! It's quite interesting to see how interested you all are in with me and my dear's meeting."

The hint of annoyance in his voice was entertaining, to say the least. You place a hand on his shoulder, barely hovering above it.

"Aww, come of Al! They just wanted to hear how we first met! Besides, it's a fun story to tell."

"If "fun" means almost killing ya for the first time, I'd hate to know what you guys did when you started dating-" "Shut up Angel!"

You answer a few questions that were asked before everyone eventually returned back to their previous endeavors. Husk and Angel eventually sit around with the others in the common room, leaving just you and Alastor at the bar.

"It's kinda funny, now that I look back at it."

Alastor doesn't say anything, promoting you to continue.

"That night, I almost turned down that job. I was painfully tired, and all I wanted to do was go home. It's crazy to think that we wouldn't have met had I not pushed myself to take the job."

Anyone who knew Alastor would know that him asking for a partnership was simply outlandish. Hell, Alastor himself questioned why he was seeking you out in the first place.

No, underneath he knew. He knew from the first time he saw you. It was a different time from when you both officially met. When he saw you, someone so seemingly innocent, skillfully take down a man twice your size, he knew that he had to meet you.

"Well, mon chéri, it's good that you did."

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader

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therealslimsanji · 7 months

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Ok, my darlings! As promised.

One Taz/Reader sexy time fic at your service!

Please be aware, I'm no writer. Plus, I've got a house full of noise and chaos, and I work from home, so this will probably have a ton of grammar and spelling mistakes. C'est la vie, mon ami.

So without further ado, I bring to you:

Taz/Reader

Rated: Explicit for language and oral sex (m receiving).

(Also rating E for "eh" at the quality of work here.)

But anyway, I hope you all will enjoy it a little bit!

**UPDATE, I EDITED THE STORY A BIT AFTER POSTING SO IT MIGHT READ DIFFERENTLY THIS TIME**

Taz Skylar/Reader

The night had come and the kitchen was finally quiet now. A few of Taz's cast mates from One Piece had dropped by yalls apartment to celebrate the show's season two renewal. Nothing too major. Mostly it was just another excuse for your boyfriend Taz to show off his excellent culinary skills.

That thought made you smile as you finished towel drying the last dish and placing it in the dish rack. A gentle wave of warmth spread through you. It always did whenever you thought about Taz cooking for you or his friends. He was such an affectionate man and one of the ways he's come to show his love is through his kitchen creations.

"Quickest way to a person's heart is through their stomach, darling," he'd said once while effortlessly chopping up a wide variety of vegetables for some fancy stew.

On cue, almost as if he could sense you were thinking about him, Taz appeared behind you, wrapping his slim toned arms around your waist. His chin came to rest on your shoulder.

Your eyes fell closed as you leaned back into his touch. His arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"Did you have fun today?" You asked as the two of you began to sway slightly. Your arms coming to rest atop his around your waist.

He chuckled lowly, "I always have fun when I'm with you and my friends. I love you all. Very much. You the most, obviously." At that he chuckled some more, burying his face into your neck and kissing the skin there.

"We love you too, babe. I can't even begin to tell you how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished in the last year alone," you spun around to face him, sliding your hands up and down his biceps, "if anyone deserves to be celebrated right now it's you, my love."

Taz blushed at your words, eyes dipping down a bit in a bashful manner. That was something else about Taz you've come to love, how he shy he gets whenever he gets complimented. It was adorable and you took that moment to lean up and kiss him.

Your arms came up to wrap around his neck as his hands moved to the small of your back. Eyes closed, the two of you kissed slowly and deeply. You moaned a bit as you felt him grind subconsciously against you. Smiling into the kiss, you bit gently at his bottom lip and pulled away slowly. There was a glint in your eye that made Taz shiver in your hold.

"C'mere," you whispered, taking both his hands in yours and guiding him towards the counter of the kitchen island. You spun him around, his lower back pressing against the edge of the counter as you attacked his mouth once more in a much needier kiss.

You felt his hands try to grasp at the buttons of your shirt but you quickly put a stop to that, grabbing them and pinning them down on the counter's edge.

"Mm-mm," you hummed against his mouth before pulling back to say, "this is about you tonight. Leave your hands on this counter and don't move them until I say."

Taz looked as though all the wind had been punched out of him, his face flushed as all the blood rushed south quickly. You could easily fell the hardness of his arousal pressing against your own crotch.

It made your mouth water.

Leaning forward to lick the shell of his left ear, you whispered, "I think I'm still hungry.."

You could hear him swallow audibly.

"Y/N...you..."

Before he could finish his thought, you sunk to your knees, maintaining eye contact with him the entire way down. His gorgeous ocean eyes were blown near completely black, his chest beginning to rise and fall a bit rapidly. His lips were still a little moist from kissing, and God dammit if he wasn't the most beautiful man you'd ever had the pleasure of, well, pleasuring.

Oh yeah. You were gonna take your time with this. Savor every second. Watch every micro-expression cross that stunning face of his. Slowly you undid the button and zipper of his dark jeans, pushing the material down a bit along with his black boxer briefs-- this man and his love for the color black. It was understandable though. He looked fucking amazing in it.

But then, he'd look fucking amazing in a burlap sack.

Taking out his cock, you let the warmth of your breath to ghost over the tip as you pulled the foreskin back. You watched as Taz's head fell back and felt the full body shiver run through him.

"Taz," his head snapped back down at the sound of his name, "look at me. Don't look anywhere else but me."

"Christ, Y/N..." He grit out. His slender hips bucked slightly, searching out more friction. Your hand was still wrapped just this side of too loose around his cock. You knew it was driving him crazy.

With a smirk, you stuck your tongue out and lapped at the precum gathering at the tip, shiny and salty and tasting uniquely of Taz. It was definitely a taste you could get addicted to.

Your right hand stroked his base as your full lips closed around the tip entirely. Your tongue pressed along the slit, rubbing against the spongy head as you sucked lightly.

Above you the blond moaned, tongue coming out to lick at his bottom lip before his teeth bit down in it. His knuckles were white where they held their death grip on the counter's edge.

You kept your eyes locked as you swallowed more of him down with each bob of your head. Both of your hands griping at each of his denim clad thighs. A few more bobs and you had him swallowed down nearly to the hilt, the dark curls around the base tickling at your nose.

A small whimper left his throat, he was trying so hard not to thrust up into your mouth. You smiled around your mouthful, admiring his attempt at control for the sake of your comfort. But you meant what you said.

Tonight was about Taz.

You pulled off still staring up at him, lips plump and wet, "you can fuck my mouth, baby."

"Oh fuck..." He groaned. "Can I..?" He lifted a hand off the counter in a silent request for your permission.

"Use me," your voice was a bit deeper now.

His hand threaded through your soft hair as he grasped a handful, not too tight. Just enough to know you were gonna be hoarse as fuck after all was said and done.

Wasting no more time, you swallowed him back down as far as you could handle. The hand in your hair moved to cup at the crown of your head, keeping you in place as your throat muscles worked around him.

"Oh my God, Y/N. Oh shit..." his blue eyes were struggling to keep focus on you. He was beginning to pant hard, hips moving more and more, almost desperate.

You pulled back a bit, stroking him quickly as you took a moment to catch your breath.

"That feel good?" You asked with a mock innocence, mouth going right back to sucking him down.

"Fuck yes. Feels incredible. 'M not gonna last..."

But you knew that already from the way his hips were starting to stutter in their thrusts. You're no amateur. You've gone down on him enough times to be able to read his body like an open book.

His moans and whimpers as he inched closer to climax were a melody you knew by heart. He was so close now.

"Oh God..Oh f-fuck, Y/N fuck.." this was the part where you swallowed him deep. Sucking as best you could while your throat muscles worked around him and his hips ground against your face. Your left hand came up to massage at his tightening balls while your right hand sought out the hand he had in your hair. He released his grip on your head so that your fingers could lace together.

There was something so intimate about grasping his hand as his orgasm approached. It made your heart swell. It was also established by now as your way of giving him consent to continue chasing his climax since your mouth was usually too busy to actually tell him in the heat of the moment. A silent assurance that you were in it until the end.

"I'm gonna cum. Y/N I'm gonna-fuuuck..."

One more clumsy thrust of his hips, and you felt your mouth fill with his warm release. You swallowed as much as you could, trying to keep up with how much was shooting out. You continued to suck him through it all, only popping off when the hand still grasping the counter weakly pushed your head off.

He was panting and beginning to slump down against the bottom cabinets beneath the marbled counter. You could feel his thighs trembling as you tucked him back into his underwear and pants. He was struggling slightly to remain upright and standing. But he was also smiling bright and sweet. Skin almost glowing from the thin sheen of sweat gracing his forehead.

Good God he was beautiful in his post-orgasm bliss.

"Oh my God, Y/N, that was..."

You rose up to your feet and nuzzled your nose against his, feeling cocky and euphoric and aroused as FUCK.

"Amazing?" You supplied teasingly, "mind blowing? 10 outta 10 would recommend to all your friends??"

He shot you a curious glance at that last one before a sleepy smile took over.

"First two, absolutely. But I've no intentions of ever sharing you with anybody." He wrapped both arms around your waist and kissed your forehead. "I love you," he spoke against your hairline.

You tightened your hold on him, "I love you too, Taz."

He pulled back, eyebrow raising mischievously.

"Round two in the bedroom?"

"Way ahead of you, sugar tits."

With a giggle, you shoved him back playfully against the counter and made a mad dash for the master bedroom. Taz chased behind hot on your heels.

The sound of yalls laughter filled the apartment before the bedroom door closed behind you.

End ❤️

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iplayghoul · 8 months

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i know im supposed to finish that ghost fic, but i kept thinking ab piss kink wit onyankopon. stay wit me now!

ony's the typa nigga to not have a thing for feet at awwl, but will suck on ur pretty toes when he sees u got them done, just bc its youu

so the piss kink conversation was nothing in depth really! but it starts off spending the day at the mall wit him, you had water with breakfast, grabbed a caramel frapp as you started your shopping adventures with him and got some sprite wit your lunch that almost killed u !!

its nnottt long at all b4 u gotta get to the bathroom :3 the first time u ask ur like "ony can u hold my bags for me, i gotta go pee real quick babe." and its a simple question really, ur handing ur bags over to him already but he doesnt take them, he just says "nah, lets go," and suddenly youre... a bit shellshocked lmfao. but he has you walking into the next store like nothing happened.

within another hour, your feet hurt and youre ready to gtfo this damn mall :( and ur bladder is holdin on by a thread too ! ur bouncin on the balls of ur feet and bouncing your legs restlessly as you hold ur pee, literally throbbing from the sensitivity 😭😭

so u ask him again, "ony bae, i really needa go piss, come on." this time he stops n looks u in the eyes, rubbing your arms calmingly and says, "you can hold it, can't you mama? you're a big girl u can do that f'me. cant you?" ur eyes are glossed overrr the ache is honestly unbearable so within the next 20 minutes yall are finally getting home.

when u guys get back to ur apartment, ur rushinnn to ur bathroom so quick, but ony grabs you by the arm, lightly pushing u to just sit on the bed and u bounce restlessly on the bed, ur piss just on the edgeee ready to come out >>:( u cant help but mumble questions at him, getting irritated but he remains calm and only smiles, drawing his fingers between ur legs to put pressure on ur clit. he rubs hard circles on you and now youre torn between focusing on the stimulation to your clit and trying not to piss all over him and the bed.

he's soo sneaky and skillful honestly, he's holding you down with one arm while the other is working you hard and slow, letting your clit harden and puff out below his thumb and his eyes are glued to yours, except all you can do is stare at his thumb's work. as if that would help u stop yourself from peeing :/

i like 2 think that ony is quite mean, but hes so soft and casual about it, he gets away with it so easy. because its only a matter if time before he has two long fingers in your pussy, together with his thumb on your clit and now you're gripping that arm so bad 😭 eyes teary and can never be drawn away from observing his hands on you.

its sinister honestly the way he so slowly strokes your g-spot with his clean cut and trimmed nails. and then he's getting on his knees... everything speeds up and suddely your tapping his arm quick, panicked telling him to stop before you cum. n squirt all over him. his eyes remain trained on yours, revelling in the way your eyes frantically move from his to his fingers and back to his😭😭😭 "mmm, u cant handle dat?" he mumbles, onya's so mean to u >_< you're speechless honestly, this day didnt go how you expected it.

but, ur dripping down his palm, tears mimicing it the same way on your cheeks and then youre cuming hot and heavy . u swear warmth washes over your entire body and your thighs squeeze around his hand and ony's fingers never fuckin stop . orgasming so damn hard your tummy started to cramp up and ur legs stiffened up baaad in that position. "let it go baby, c'mon mama. been such a good girl f'me."

and jus like that, u let go, piss n squirt, whatever the fuck it is spraying in a hot, relieving stream onto his face just like he wanted, he gives ur lower lips a few kisses n licks :<< then going slack jawed, cupping ur cunt wit his mouth while u spasm and moan above him. lettin u full his mouth up real good :)

#onyankopon #ony x reader #onyankopon snk #onyankopon x reader #﹒﹒﹒💗 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦: 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 💌 𓂃 !#onyankopon x black coded reader #word vomit 4 u guys #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black y/n #aot x reader #aot x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon headcannon #onyankopon drabble

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skribblezcorner · 2 months

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Corset-Trained

HEY YALL!!! comes back after like 2 weeks and drops this. hgnhg small waist Sanji gives me brain worms (they do the same to Zoro trust) so have this fic about it!!1111!!!!! It's also up on my Ao3 if you wanna view it there!! okay buckle in children ~~~~~~~~~~~

Sanji loves dressing nice.

Ever since he was old enough to fit in them, he’d never step foot outside without at least a dress shirt on. The constant dressing up was more of an insecurity problem than anything, when he was younger.

Coming back from Momoiro, Sanji’s learned a lot more about himself than he anticipated - now he just wears suits ‘cause they look really good on him. Sanji has a nice figure. He knows he does. He keeps lean because of the way he fights, and the three-pieces he wears do wonders for showing off his legs.

When he feels like it, he’ll even put on a corset underneath his button-down sometimes. he’s noticed that it’s gotten easier to put them on in the mornings the longer he wears them, and he doesn’t necessarily mind his waist getting smaller with time.

Looks like someone else noticed too.

~o0o~

For some context, It starts when his crew finally reunites.

Reuniting in Sabaody surrounded by the crewmates he’s missed for so long feels so rejuvenating. Everybody’s laughing, gossiping, and he feels home again, for the first time in two years.

Everyone’s almost here, besides the marimo - lost in transit, Sanji guesses. Luffy’s already complaining about his empty stomach, whining for Sanji to make him something

Sanji prepares to kick the idiot in the head, when suddenly the ground shakes.

He looks over to the commotion, and finds two halves of a ship crashing into the shoreline. Unfortunately he has a lucky guess as to what - or rather, who - caused this.

“Shit,” Sanji mutters. Why is it always something with that algae-headed fool?

As it turns out, Sanji was right. upon returning to Sabaody (without his eye, might he add), Zoro had somehow arrived first and proceeded to get himself lost on a completely different ship. Instead of getting off and looking for his crew like a normal person, he cleaved the entire thing in two to ‘get to shore faster’.

“It’s been two years, and you’re still as much of an idiot as the last time i saw you, marimo.” Sanji huffs, pulling said marimo by his ear towards the Sunny.

On the contrary, Zoro has not said a word since Sanji picked him up from the ruins of the ship he destroyed. It’s a little concerning, considering all the pair really do is bicker when they’re together.

Sanji turns around briefly to examine the man he’s dragging behind him. “are you even paying attention to me, or has all the algae on your head clogged up your ears?”

Zoro stumbles over his words before he splutters something something about Sanji’s collar being wrinkly, which the other man knows is a lie (because he steamed his button down this morning…)

Even so, Sanji narrows his eyes at the green-haired idiot before feeling around the collar of his shirt just in case. “No it’s not, you idiot!” He hisses, and flicks Zoro on the side of the head, and they fall into their usual banter as they head back to the rest of the crew.

Every time he looks back at Zoro to deliver a scathing remark, though, he swears something’s…off about the other. He leaves it be for the time being, hoping it’ll resolve itself.

~o0o~

It does not resolve itself, unfortunately for Sanji.

Everyone boards the Sunny joyfully, the ship exploding in laughter as they make their hasty escape from Sabaody. They settle back onto the ship in a matter of hours, and it’s like they never left.

A few days later, Sanji finishes up stocking up the galley’s storage room earlier than he expected, so he makes smoothies for the crew as a sort of welcome-back gift. He leaves his jacket in the galley because it’s pretty sunny where they are right now.

As he bustles around the ship and hands the drinks out to the crew, he feels a set of eyes boring into his back from the edge of the ship. It seems the marimo’s developed a staring problem - ironic, seeing(HA!) that the man is missing an eye.

When he comes around to deliver Zoro’s plain matcha, Zoro’s eyes are closed and he acts like he wasn’t staring a hole directly between Sanji’s shoulder blades the whole time the blond was on deck. Sanji pauses to study the other man for a moment, wondering if Zoro knows his fluttering eyelashes betray the fact that he’s awake.

“Hey. Hey, you lazy fuck!” Sanji kicks at Zoro’s shoulder, careful not to jostle the drink he has in his hand.

“ What? ” Zoro snaps, his eye snapping open.

Sanji crouches down to place the drink next to him, and levels Zoro with a suspicious glare; like trying to say ‘ you’re not slick ’, but telepathically.

Zoro seems to realize what’s gong on, and instead of answering he takes an obnoxiously long (and fucking loud) sip as he stares the blonde down with a blank face.

Blue stares into gray (were Zoro’s lashes always that long?) as Sanji tries to puzzle out what exactly is going on with the marimo. The longer he stares, the more he notices Zoro’s eyes creeping downwards, and the blush materializing on Zoro’s (and subsequently, his own) face, and Sanji looks away because what the fuck ? Is he? Doing that for?!

Sanji straightens up with a huff, trying to cover his embarrassment as he scuttles back to the galley.

When he looks outside the window after a few minutes of calming himself down, he sees the swordsman looking down at his hands, doing…something. He’s cupping both hands into a C-shape and putting them closer and farther apart like he’s gauging something.

What a fucking weirdo , Sanji thinks, and tries to preoccupy himself with something else in the galley.

~o0o~

It all comes to a head one night a week after.

Sanji’s washing dishes after dinner, the rest of the crew presumably settled down and tucked into bed. He’s frantically scrubbing ketchup crust off one of his favorite plates when he hears the door crack open.

“Luffy, you’re not-” Sanji turns around, expecting to defend the fridge with his life - and it’s not Luffy.

Instead, It’s Zoro, who hasn’t come into the galley to steal booze in like… a while. There goes Sanji’s hopes that he might’ve broken that habit.

“Oh,” Sanji says, while the other man stands awkwardly in the doorway. “You’re more welcome in here than he is, I guess.” He nods to the chair, gesturing for Zoro to sit as he turns back around to continue washing dishes.

Zoro sits, evident by the scraping of the chair. “Don’t go looking through my cabinets, marimo,” Sanji quips, “I’ll get you a bottle as soon as I’m done.”

Zoro grunts an affirmative from behind him, and Sanji finishes washing up the last few cups and shit before wiping his hands off and heading towards the wine cabinet.

Sanji feels Zoro’s eyes on him as he bends down to reach for a bottle of rum, and here’s where things start to spiral.

Sanji decides this is the perfect time to have a talk . So, he sets down two glasses on the table where Zoro is sitting, and fills each to the brim before slamming the bottle down derisively.

“Okay,” Sanji starts. “I know you’re a man of few words, or whatever, but you really gotta start talking. Now.”

Zoro snorts into his drink, setting it down before speaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, like the smug shit he is.

“Yes you do.”

“Nope. I don’t.”

“You’re fucking insufferable, you know that?” Sanji gripes, taking a long sip from his glass. “Let me lay it out for you. You either tell me what’s going on, or, stop staring at me before i take out your other eye, asshole.”

Zoro stares resolutely at the table, picking up his glass of rum and mumbling something into the rim without making eye contact with the man across from him.

“What’s that, marimo?”

“I just wanted to see something,” the green-haired man says, a little louder this time.

“Well, if it was that simple, you could’ve just asked.” Sanji shrugs. “Stop being weird about it.”

Sanji hears something faintly like 'no, I couldn’t have' from the marimo before he sighs in resignation and gets up. “Cook, stand up.”

Sanji is confused. “What? Why?”

One of Zoro’s hands move to pinch the bridge of his nose. “This is me asking! Just…do it.”

Oh, so that’s where this is going. “Marimo, even without my shoes on, I’m still taller than you.”

“Okay, whatever, come closer.” Zoro says, still managing to look anywhere but Sanji’s eyes.

Sanji expects a hand at his forehead to, you know, measure height. Instead, Zoro does that weird C- shape he’s been doing with his hands all week, and Sanji feels a warmth around his midsection through the light blue dress shirt he has on.

Zoro’s staring with half-lidded eyes at something and Sanji follows his gaze lower, as they both look at the tan hands resting around his waist.

Zoro’s thumbs touch - no, they overlap - where they rest above Sanji’s navel, and oh, oh .

The two stand there, stock still, in complete silence, and Sanji can't help the fast beating of his heart as his mind conjures up the image of those firm, calloused hands touching there without the stiff cotton in between -

The silence in the galley is broken by the drip of liquid, and Sanji belatedly realizes it’s coming from him as a splat of red falls onto Zoro’s hands.

“ Hoooo-ly shit, ” Zoro whispers, and, yeah, holy shit is right, because this has unlocked something in Sanji that he was very unprepared for.

Sanji snaps out of whatever fucking trance he was in and frantically tries to save his shirt, moving to get a paper towel from the counter (and mourning the loss of Zoro’s palms touching his waist). “Fuck, fuck! ” Sanji dabs at the stain on the front of his shirt, but to no avail. He settles for wiping his face clean instead.

When Sanji turns around to face him, The marimo is staring at him with wide eyes and the deepest flush Sanji thinks he’s ever had. “Okay, okay.” This is fine , Sanji thinks, and takes the opportunity to stride up to the table they were sitting at and down not only his rum, but Zoro’s as well.

He coughs as the liquid goes down his throat, and he kind of regrets doing that, but he needs the courage (and the chance he won’t remember this tomorrow).

“Cook-”

Sanji holds up a hand. “Don’t - don’t say anything.” Zoro falls silent.

He takes a deep breath in, collecting himself before he speaks.“Is that a thing? For you?.”

“Well, I mean-”

“Answer the goddamn question.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Zoro admits, his tone more confused than anything now.

“So,” Sanji calmly says, “Would you be open-”

“Are you propositioning me-”

Yes. “I swear to god , Zoro.”

He seems to get the message, swallowing thickly before nodding once. Great.

“Good,” Sanji sighs, unbuttoning the two topmost buttons on his dress shirt. “Then, you mind doing that again?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

errmmmmm i hate beta reading so there might be a buncha mistakes in here please lmk if you spot one!! anyway these two are my little meow meows i cant stop writing about them.

#ronoroa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zosan #one piece #zosan brainrot #i cant stop thinking about them #zosan gives me brain worms #small waist sanji....#WHY do you have a small waist.#FOR OTHER MEN (Zoro) TO GRAB>?????!??!?!#big hands #big hands zoro go brrrrr

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daydream-cement · 1 year

Note

Hiiii I’m back for another request!! I’ve loved every single fic you’ve written btw♥️

Okay so, Larissa x fem!reader

They are in a relationship but Larissa works late a lot and reader misses her terribly and one night reader is very✨desperate✨ and tries to text Larissa to get her home. Although larissa wants to go home to reader she just needs to finish something at work first. So reader decides to take matters into her own hands and when larissa comes home she finds reader touching herself like a maniac and moaning out for Larissa.

Can’t Wait

Larissa Weems x f!reader (NSFW!!!)

Authors Note is below the keep reading. It’s all NSFW. Yall aint ready.

Authors Note: Fully inspired by the nudes. I think I almost just wrote a guided masturbation fic?

You texted Larissa, but she wasn’t answering. You had been lightly sexting all afternoon after you had been interrupted this morning. Now you were all pent up and ready to go, but she wasn’t home when she said she would be. You were getting desperate. The ache and wetness that pooled between your legs wasn’t going away any time soon. You couldn’t wait any longer.

You were laying in the middle of the bed you shared with Larissa, your head propped up on your pillows. You slip your hand into your panties and begin rubbing your clit, trying to picture what Larissa would be doing if she was there.

First, she would probably strip in front of you. Slow and methodically, teasing you. Her perfect dress clothes would pool to the floor. She would have you salivating over her. Your wyes would rake over her body. Those perfect hips, those long legs, those sweet breasts. You let out a moan just thinking about her. You dip your fingers down into your wetness and bring them back up to enjoy the slick sensation on your clit.

She would approach the bedside. Her hands grabbing you by the hips and pulling you towards her. She would want to kiss you. Larissa’s hands would be on either side of your face as she pulls you in for a kiss. Your hands would come to rest on her hips and she would moan into your mouth, happy to have your hands on her. She would deepen the kiss, her mouth opening. Her tongue would slide along your bottom lip and her next move would be her tongue touching yours. One of her hands would come down to rest on your thigh, she was getting impatient. You moan again thinking about her hands on you. They were so soft and they would always tease against your inner thigh. She would always want for you to beg for more, “Say it.”

“Please, fuck me, Larissa… I need you…” You groaned out loud, pretending she was the one touching you. Her hands would guide you back, so you were laying down. Then she would kiss down your body. Oh how she loved to kiss every curve and insecurity. You swore her hands were magic. It was like electricity from her fingertips as she ran them over your skin. She would lick and suck at you nipples. You brought a hand up, twisting and pulling at one of your nipples, just trying to mimic the sensation. You whined at the combination of nipple play and the sensation of your fingers playing with your clit, “Mmm, Larissa.”

You loved saying her name in bed. It made you feel like you were entirely hers. She lived hearing it as well. Her mouth would leave deep bruises on your breasts, wanting to leave a reminder for tomorrow. She would continue down. Teasing you. She would kiss lower across your hips and along your thighs. You squirmed just thinking about how you would be begging her, “Touch me. Please… Fuck me… Larissa…”

You sped up your motions against your clit. You felt an orgasm coming on. You focused in on Larissa and how she would eat you and lick your cunt. She wanted to hear you beg. Once you did, you were done for. Her tongue would run the length of your heat. Her tongue would stop at tour clit, circling it a few times before she sucked it. You were so close. Almost there. You were shocked at how wet you had become. You could hear the sound of your fingers playing with your wet pussy, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Larissa…”

Your eyes roll back in your head. The thought of Larissa’s face between your legs was all consuming. Her fingers crept between your legs, two of them slipping easily inside of you. You loved when she finger fucked you with her gorgeous fingers. Your own fingers slip inside of yourself, and you use your palm to gently simulate your clit as you begin fucking yourself, “Larissa… Oh, Larissa.”

You don’t see Larissa at the door. She has been watching you fuck yourself at the thought of her. She has never been turned on more. Larissa doesn’t stop you, however. She wants to see you cum at the mere thought of her.

You want to cum so badly. You pull your fingers from your leaking cunt and bring them back to your clit. You are so wet and you need some type of release. Larissa would be licking and sucking at your clit right now. She would want to have you cum on her tongue. She would want to taste you, “Yes, baby, cum for me…”

You did what you were told. You felt the shockwave of an orgasm pulse through your body. You eyes squeeze shut just at the mere intensity of it. Larissa would want to keep going, just to taste your juices. Then she would kiss up your body. Her lips always so tender and gentle when she kissed your stomach and navel.

You raise your wet fingers to your lips, tasting yourself like Larissa would want to. Fuck you wish she were here.

“I guess you got started without me.” Larissa finally spoke up. There she was in front of the bed beginning to undress in front of you. The daydream that played in your head started from the beginning, but this time it was real life.

#larissa weems #wednesday netflix #fanfic #gwendoline christie #oneshot #larissa weems smut #smut #larissa weems x reader

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a-random-weeb · 15 days

Note

Hiii love ur account! Idk if I can request cause it says it’s closed, so sorry if I’m wrong!

Can I please request a yandere who looks very dominant; tall and buff with muscles. Literally everyone is scared of him because of how frightening he looks. Everyone other than Reader: Yandere is actually scared of reader and is very submissive around them. He actively seeks Reader’s approval and will do anything for her. Kind of like a guard dog? He’s really just a big puppy who craves Readers affection. Thank youuuu

Awww I love this idea!! Let's name him... Austyn, idk it just fits lol. I couldn't think of what age to make him, so I said screw it and put yall in high-school because that's the easiest

Also I know you requested this months ago, and everyone else requested their things months ago, guys I've been so tired recently, I'm so sorry I haven't been able to write what you've been wanting me to. I'm so sorry if you're still waiting on your request, and I'm hoping I'll get more chances to write soon. Thank you for your patience :)

Warnings: Yandere (obv), clingy and obsessive behavior, a little more than just mentions of murder, slight mentions of rape (not to reader or anything i just noticed it was brought up so I figured I'd put it in just incase), reader gets forcefully drugged, kidnapping

This fic is not meant to romanticize unhealthy and toxic relationships, it's hot af in fanfictions but is never ok irl

°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~

A huge man towers over you, his shadow engulfing your entire figure, his huge muscles and rough exterior making him appear as if he could kill. He stares down at your petite and fragile body in an intimidating manner as you jolt up in a sitting position. Clutching the desk beneath your upper body, you recognize him almost immediately.

"Where am I?! What do you want?!" You scream dramatically, almost tipping backwards in your chair.

"You fell asleep in class." His eyes narrow. "I had to poke you a bunch so you would wake up. The bell just rang, its lunch time." Your whole face burns a cherry color.

"Um- thanks..." Your eyes wander anywhere but his face. The corners of his mouth ever so slighty elevate as he leans on your desk.

"Would you like to eat lunch together?" He tilts his head slightly in an almost cute way. Your brows furrow in confusion, but nod regardless out of pure fear. He could probably kill you in one hit. No, simply him blowing on you would be enough to knock you 8 miles. You pack your school supplies and walk to your locker, Austyn almost breathing down your back as he watches you grab your stuff.

Entering the cafeteria, you both take a seat in one of the only spots left in the overcrowded area, its a bit shocking when kids start scooting away from you both, even the kids across from you want nothing to do with your new 'friend'. Or thats at least what you hope he wants with you...

Your prayers were answered, but in the worst way possible. It's almost physically painful watching Austyn attempt to make conversation with you. Stuttering over every second word, obviously embarrassed and anxious, fumbling with his hands. It was... cute. You'd never thought he would be like this while talking to him, you've seen him be rude and cold to everyone, maybe he's just shy and comes off as rude? Guess you'll find out. You, having not as many friends as you'd like to have, appreciate the attention from him regardless. But he desperately needed help with this whole social thing, so you give him a hand.

"If you're not busy, maybe you could help me with homework after we finish eating?" You smile, hoping he's not busy before you die of embarrassment. Thankfully, he nods, and the two of you finish your meal in silence.

You were hoping he'd be a little more outgoing and not as awkward in the library, but boy were you wrong. More stuttering, more avoidance of eye contact, more hand fidgeting. He wasnt even helping, just sitting there and watching you, almost too intently. You almost scream of joy when your best and only friend, Abby, joins you.

"Hi!" She beams excitedly, taking a seat next to you, "need help?"

"You're my savior!" You giggle, hugging her. Austyns aura immediately chances from a shy puppy to one that could kill. He glares daggers into Abby as she speaks a bit too friendly to you, gets a little too close to you, helps you instead of him. He knows he needs to up his game, but your stupid friend might ruin his chances.

Abby was your friend since elementary school, you've never been great at giving anyone a smile, but she always brings out your biggest one. She's helped you through so much, you owe her your life!

The rest of lunch Austyn stays silent and in the background, you assume he's shy... God, you hope that he was not hurt. You continued the rest of your classes like normal, overjoyed when the day comes to an end.

You and Abby walk home together, teasing and laughing with eachother. Austyn trails behind you both, not talking too much. Neither of you know where Austyn lives, and forget to ask. They drop you off at your house, and Abby lives just across the street so you guess Austyn walks her home. The long between your houses and the school is 30 minutes. You could take the bus, and you do in the mornings, but the walk is too beautiful to miss, so fun laughing with your best friend through the sunset in the city, too fun running through the long field of grass, racing down the streets, seeing who can reach your house the fastest, rubbing it in your face as you both either collapse on your porch or Abby goes home. Sometimes, you dance outside together, sharing secrets, giggling over whatever crush the other one has... Abbys friends with almost everyone, but the two of you are inseparable. Tonight though, you only talked with Abby, not wanting to make Austyn feel left out, and not wanting to seem awkward infront of your new friend. You run inside, jumping into your bed, thinking Austyn is just a little cute. Maybe a tiny crush? You don't think on it too much, as you pass out.

The next day, Austyn starts hanging out with you and Abby, which neither of you mind. He's a bit less shy and a bit more friendly. He's in your homeroom, science, and math class, so you sat next to him in all of those. You guys talked and exchanged answers from time to time, overall getting along very well. You guys hang out at lunch, and sure, you give a slight bit more attention to Abby, but thats it, and overall, the three of you get along like three peas in a pod. The next four days go similarly, your crush for him grows.

One lunch time the three of you meet up, eat, and head to the library. You weren't sure what was wrong, but Austyn didn't seem to be a huge fan of Abby, only hanging out and attempting to make conversation with you, almost cutting Abby out. You, of course, refuse to let that happen, and keep adding your friend the the conversation. You and Abby exchange a confused look, Austyn normally loves you and Abby.

After school the same day, you run over to Abbys locker, waiting for her to grab her stuff. You wait for 5 minutes... 10 minutes... 20 minutes... she doesn't show up. Thinking it's a bit strange, you still wait, assuming she was held back in class or something, as the teachers often like to praise her work or offer her opportunities for an upcoming math competition or something. She appears, after awhile, running towards you. The two of you begin to walk home together. When you ask her what she was doing, she awkwardly dodges the question. You leave her alone about it.

The next day when you arrive at school, Abby still didn't show up. How strange, you think to yourself. Abby hasn't missed a single day this year, not even when she was sick, you have no clue how she does it. Straight As, no days missed, friends with everyone she talks to, yet she's not here. You couldn't help but feel a pit in your stomach, not wanting to assume the worst. You would've thought she'd at least text you right? The more you thought about it the worse it got. What if she was raped by a creepy teacher?? What if she was kidnapped?! Maybe she got a deadly sickness and has three days to live! There's so many possibilities you weren't sure, what if-

"Hey!" Your new 'friend' from yesterday appears before you, looking like he's accomplished something great.

"Hi...?" You look up at him, calming yourself immediately. You knew you shouldn't overthink this, she probably just missed her bus or something. Austyn obviously picks up on your torn face as he asks,

"Hey, are you ok? You look offput..." he does his signature, puppy-like head tilt. you quickly nod your head, laughing to yourself silently of the stupidity of your overdramatic thoughts. You weren't normally so anxious, this over worried about your friend not being at school immediately, but for some reason, your gut was screaming at you that something bad happened. And then... The overwhelming feeling to run hits you. Looking at Austyns smile fills you with a strange sense of dread. White noise echos in your ears.

"Woah, woah, calm down!" He panics, "Hey what happened? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Hes acting way too friendly today... you shake your head.

"I-I don't know what's wrong with me today? I guess it's just a weird day....?" Austyn rushes to wipe some tears you didn't notice were were falling from your eyes.

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it...." he sighs "I don't know what happened, but stop worrying."

Abby was murdered.

You don't know how you know, last night was such a haze... what happened...? Pictures of her dead body flash in your mind, the killer standing there with a knife and sadistic smile. You swear it was a dream... you remember beginning your walk home, but can't remember anything passed the midway point, not even what you did last night, did you even eat dinner? You didn't wear pajamas last night, you assumed you were just tired when you woke up. But did you really see Abbys murder or is this just the most dramatic you've ever been on a Wensday morning?

You continued your day like normal, the sinking feeling never leaving you. Austyn was acting strange, outgoing and sweet to you. And yet his face was making you want to throw up for some reason... to go as far as to flee the country. Well, maybe not that far, but you certainly didn't want him near you for some reason.

The end of the days comes, and your dumbass told Austyn he could walk you home. It was probably fine, you'd go to sleep tonight and tomorrow everything would be normal, Abby would be at school and Austyn wouldn't be as creepy to you. You're sure of it.

You wait for him near the entrance of the school, and of course, when he comes out, he's almost stumbling over his own feet to run towards you.

"Hey!" He gives a huge innocent smile as he begins walking with you, clutching the arms of his backpack in a shy manner. You smile up at him, not sure if it's a real smile or not. No words are exchanged as you both watch little cracks of the sunset through all the large buildings of the city. It wasn't cold, but it definitely wasn't hot, the perfect night for a first kiss. Stars beginning to appear as you make your way out of downtown, you've only been walking for 15 minutes... almost the midway point... you have a much better view of the now gone sun, there's still a bit of red. There's no one around, it's a gorgeous night, you're walking home with a guy... everything should be perfect, it should be romantic. You recognize this, Deja vu, but different.... memories from what you think to be the dream, or a cruel reality you weren't sure yet start to appear. Abbys lifeless body in the long grass, the moonlight to the killers back, you know who it was, but you can't remember.... all these events took place just upahead and-

It wasn't a dream.

Blood stains lay in the grass and you point to Austyn, not in control of your body or the words that spill from your mouth, or the tears that spill from your mouth, or the puke that's about to spill from your mouth.

"You did this... didn't you...?"

Austyns eyes darken, "and you remember. I knew the sedatives wouldn't work as well as I wanted them to..." he sighs "I did this for you, don't you see?! I killed her for you. I've loved you for so long and you've never even looked at me. So I stalked you, learned about you, you're so cute yknow! You never laughed the same way around me as you did with Abby, ramble to me as you did with her.... So now our problem is gone, and we can be the cutest couple!" He spits delusionally. You back away from him, the moon to his back, the same spot as last night. He grabs your wrist harshly, overpowering you easily.

"You can't run darling, now let's go to my house!" He beams, "I'll even bring you home the head of someone you don't like!" You thrash around, screaming for help, but Austyn just giggles and hugs you to him, holding one hand around your arms and torso and the other over your mouth. "Shhhhh, it'll be ok!" He puts a chloroform filled cloth to your mouth, and everything goes dark.

Maybe I'll write a part 2, maybe I'll do headcannons, maybe I'll leave you guys to imagine the rest, we'll see :3

#Yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #soft yandere #tw yandere #Yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #I'm sorry I left for so long TvT #Did yall miss me? :'3 #yandere oc #Dark yandere #Yandere puppy

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fortheloveofbuddie · 3 months

Text

Fuck It Friday 👀

Yall I am off for the next three weeks and I got up early with my girlfriend and I just whipped nearly 6k words for the omegaverse office romance fic 🥹 Hopefully I’ll be able to continue at this rate and finish this fic before I have school again 🤞🏻

I was tagged by the ever lovely @wikiangela @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples and @daffi-990 💋

(Story and tags under cut because this one is long and heavy 🫢)

Unexpectedly, his father grabs his right wrist hard and almost forcefully, making Buck’s body freeze on the spot and he’s pulled back into a feeling that he hasn’t wanted to feel since he was 13 and reached puberty.

The feeling of apparently being the biggest disappointment of his parents life because he turned out to be an omega. He was always small but his parents were hoping and praying that it would somehow magically change over night. But then he experienced his first heat and it was painful, embarrassing and uncomfortable. Yet not more uncomfortable than his parents who from that moment on kept reminding him that he was worth nothing to this family, that he would never be able to carry on the Buckley legacy because when he would marry, he would take another man’s name instead of giving it. How he wasn’t normal for being an omega, how he would always stand out in a crowd and that life would be made indefinitely harder for him - just because of the way that he was born.

Well, he didn’t fucking ask for it.

Hot tears threaten to fall as his father just stares at him, not a soul in sight but he keeps his back straightened, not allowing his true feelings to show but once again, his omega is trying to get out. “You’re not married. How surprising. Who would even want you? You’re damaged goods” His father gestures towards his stomach and Buck can feel his lip quivering, biting down on it so hard that a faint metallic taste starts to spread in his mouth.

“I can’t believe that you would do this to yourself. Why would you make yourself stand out even more? If you’re going to be a whore, then at least protect yourself” His dad continues his rant, fingers boring into the side of Buck’s wrist. He wants to retract it, to pull it closer to himself and to protect himself, to protect the baby but he can’t. He can’t do anything else than just take it.

“Do you even know who the father is, Evan? Do you?” His father yanks at his wrist, making Buck whimper in both pain and surprise, unable to keep the tears at bay, he lets them fall as he stares at the ground. “Answer me. Right. Now” His father raises his voice and Buck can feel his body shake, threatening to send him into a panic attack and so he finally nods.

“Y-...yes” is the first word out of his mouth in what feels like an eternity. The pressure from his fathers grip seems to loosen but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before he grips onto it so tightly that he can feel the blood flow slowly being cut off, whitening his entire hand.

“Does he know that you’re pregnant? Did you tell him? Or are you just going to keep that to yourself like you did with us? Does he even love the baby? Did you ask if he wanted this baby without being married?” There’s so many questions out of his dads mouth that he barely has time to register them all in his brain. “Actually, I’m surprised that someone was able to spend enough time with you to get you into this mess. You’re such a disappointment to this family, Evan. Ungrateful and unlovable”

And then it finally sets in. Buck is able to rip his hand from his fathers grip, almost losing his balance as he does so but manages to steady himself. With a breaking but somehow firm voice, he says “He doesn’t know. And that’s because of you. Because I was so afraid of this, of disappointing you again but you know what?”. He stops to take a deep breath in, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“This baby is so loved and cared for. I love him and his other father loves him just as much, if not more than me. And you fucking broke me. I have hated myself for years because of you! I haven’t told the baby’s father that it’s his baby. I’ve lied to him because of you! Because I know what you would think of me, I know-... I know that you hate me but someone does love me. And someone loves this baby in the ways that you should have loved me!”

Tagging!! @disasterbuckdiaz @watchyourbuck @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @cal-daisies-and-briars @butraura @spotsandsocks @athenagranted @hippolotamus @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @devirnis @captain-hen @lover-of-mine @fionaswhvre @jesuisici33 @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings 🦋💗

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on abc #buddie wip #fortheloveofbuddie writes #fic: corner office consequences

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aerequets · 2 years

Text

the perfect family

a/n: another one sitting, 1 AM fic! (its actually 1:30 right now but.)

again, no rereading, no beta, bla bla............ yall know the drill. enjoy!

WAIT WAIT first i want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the love, its actually insane. i havent been able to reply to all your reviews but just know i reread them ALL multiple times and giggle and save them to look at later. i love all your reviews so much yall have no idea. im glad people enjoy my writing!!

okay now enjoy haha

Rating: T

read on ao3

Summary: Twilight had never been this tired in his whole life. He’s used to grueling missions. He’s used to getting a meager few hours of sleep per night. He’s used to being in a perpetual state of anxiety and stomach-achiness. But being Loid Forger is something else entirely. Being a family man, a parent, is no joke.

Or: Twilight has a dream about the "perfect" family.

Twilight had never been this tired in his whole life.

He’s used to grueling missions. He’s used to getting a meager few hours of sleep per night. He’s used to being in a perpetual state of anxiety and stomach-achiness.

But being Loid Forger is something else entirely. Being a family man, a parent, is no joke.

First off, Anya almost got another Tonitrus at school earlier that day. Fiona had relayed to him via his earpiece that Yor had left a message on his office phone that Henderson had called her about Anya using some colorful language. The teacher was willing to discuss before taking further action since Anya claimed he’d misheard. Yor was apologetic and said her break was over and she was needed at work, so would he please go see Anya if he had the time (Fiona didn’t relay it in as kind terms, but Loid could imagine). Loid, who was in the middle of a warehouse stakeout, had to shimmy out of the vents in his best approximation of a hurried worm while trying not to have a conniption above his targets’ heads.

When he finally got to the school, changed into ordinary work clothes and hyperventilation in check, he had to meet a sheepish Anya, who was busy trying to convince Henderson that she’d called Damian “sofa king stupid, like the evil villain Sofa King from Bondman (nonexistent), who is stupid”. She’d crafted a whole backstory for the villain and his love for all manners of seating furniture, which was what eventually sent him to his doom as he watched his favorite armchair get run over by a car. Somehow.

In other circumstances, Loid would be impressed at the intricate lie—and equally concerned that she was able to think of it—but at that moment he was busy trying not to shit his pants from the way his heart dropped into his ass. Where had she learned that language?! It was a huge concern that he couldn’t even address because he had to back her play and convince Henderson that, yes, Anya didn’t cuss, heavens no, where would she possibly have learned that? How inelegant!

Anya got off with a warning from the teacher to not call others stupid. Loid considered reprimanding her once they left the office, but thought it best to wait until she finished the school day and returned home to tell her she was grounded.

Anya inexplicably threw a tantrum right then. “I didn’t get a bolt,” she wailed. “Why should I be punished?!” He was torn between trying to explain that he hadn’t even punished her—yet—and that calling others ‘sofa king stupid’ was not acceptable in any capacity. In the end, Anya yelled that she hated him and ran off to join Becky, who had been watching from afar with a strangely large smile on her face.

So that went swimmingly.

He went back to resume his stakeout, but by that time everyone had left the warehouse and he had no new information to show for it. He ended up going home early, stomach aching this time in anticipation of Handler’s lethal disapproval. When Anya arrived home from school, all she did was send him a nasty glare (and stick her tongue out at him when she thought he wasn’t looking) before slamming the door to her room. To make matters worse, Yor had told him that morning that she’d be home late. It was embarrassing to admit, but he had no idea how to navigate Anya’s tantrums without her around. Usually he and Yor made a team wherein she calmed down and soothed Anya while he explained their perspective. He had a feeling that if he tried to soothe Anya she would call him a big liar. And maybe some other choice words, which he still didn’t know how she learned, if she was feeling extra mad.

When Yor returned, he was just about finished cooking supper. He was still at the stove when he heard the door open, so he called out a hello from the kitchen. When he didn’t hear a response, he turned off the heat and stepped out to see Yor, standing petrified by the door. There was a spider in the entryway.

“Oh,” he said. Yor could paralyze a cow, but she couldn’t stand bugs. “Hold on, I’ll get a glass—” But at that moment, the spider scuttled a little to the right, eliciting a shriek from Yor. Before Loid could even blink, her shoe was slamming down onto the bug.

And through the floorboards.

She stood with her foot through the floor for a few seconds, him watching with a slack jaw, before she gingerly lifted it out of the hole. The sheer force had caused cracks to spread out all the way to where he was standing.

“I—I—” Her mouth was opening and closing, hands fluttering helplessly. She looked mortified. “I’m so…sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, hardly hearing the words coming out of his own mouth. His eyes stayed fixated on the saucer-sized hole in the ground. A mallet would probably have done less damage. “Those floorboards needed replacing anyway.”

Maybe it was something in his voice, but Yor didn’t insist like she usually would. Instead, she quietly asked, “Where’s Anya?”

He sighed that time, knowing he failed to keep the tiredness out of it. “Her room. She’s angry with me.”

Yor dipped her head. She could probably approximate what had happened since Henderson had explained the situation to her first, which Loid was glad about because he didn’t feel like rehashing every disastrous detail from that meeting. “I’ll go talk to her.”

He should have been more relieved, but instead he felt like all the energy was sucked out of him once she left. He cast one last glance at the hole in the floor before heading to the living room to slump down on the couch.

Every normal family had bad days, he knew. But he couldn’t fool himself into thinking any of this was normal. His daughter had mysteriously obtained a foul mouth and repeatedly came close to demerits. Her teacher probably thought their whole family was one giant red flag. His wife could crush wood beneath her foot like dry leaves. Rarely did he ever think this operation was hopeless, but right now it was like a suffocating reminder weighing down on his shoulders. Everything was wrong.

Nothing about this mission was going how he thought it would. His family was nothing like the people that the Forgers were required to be on paper. He’d been unwillingly flying by the seat of his pants until now. It was exhausting. His luck had to run out sooner or later, and he’d gotten used to relying on it.

These were the last things Loid thought as he nodded off.

…

“Papa? Papa, wake up!” Small hands gently patted his cheek. He furrowed his brows before slowly opening his eyes with a low groan. He was met with the sight of large green eyes close to his face.

“Anya?” Had he fallen asleep? Concerning, but no matter—it looked like Yor had talked to Anya and managed to calm her down. He sat up and rubbed at his face before realizing three things.

One, he was not on the sofa. He was on a bed. What time was it? They hadn’t eaten supper yet—had Yor decided to just carry him into his room? An embarrassing thought, especially since that meant he’d somehow stayed asleep through the whole thing. How was he this lax when the day had been so disastrous?

Second, a quick examination of the room revealed that it wasn’t his room at all. It was Yor’s. Maybe she thought it would be inappropriate to enter his room without permission and had taken him to her own room instead. It was a reasonable explanation that he was ready to accept before he noticed his clothes strewn about a chair in the corner. On the nightstand next to her bed were his glasses and his meds.

…Why were his things in her room?

Before he could even start getting into that, though, there was the third thing, odd enough to put pause on the room dilemma for the moment.

Anya’s head was devoid of her usual hair ornaments, the same ones she never took off or let anyone—including him and Yor—touch. Her head looked strangely empty without them. He must have looked baffled, because Anya tilted her (smooth, cone-free) head.

“What’s wrong, Papa?”

“Um…” He blinked a couple times as if that would put the cones back on her head and the room to rights. It didn’t. “My room? Your hair…?”

Anya squinted, clearly confused. At that moment, the door creaked open and Yor stepped in, causing him to jump a little. She was wearing an apron and brandishing a spatula. “Anya? Is Papa not waking up?”

“His eyes opened, but I think he’s still sleeping,” she stated. Yor laughed.

“Alright, you go and start eating breakfast. I made omelette.” Loid’s eyes widened—Yor had made breakfast?!—but, to his neverending surprise, Anya excitedly whooped before running out of the room.

What on earth was going on?

“You must have had a busy day yesterday,” Yor said as she approached him. He subconsciously tensed as he watched her approach, heartbeat quickening. She was looking at him…differently. “You’re usually up before me.”

“Ah…I guess,” he said vaguely. He had to figure out what exactly was going on. “How does Anya feel about yesterday?”

“Yesterday?” Yor frowned. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember? The… the call?”

She placed a hand on his forehead. He froze—she never initiated contact first. Never so casually. She retracted her hand with a thoughtful hum. “No fever. I guess Anya was right, you really are still half asleep.”

His brain couldn’t make sense of what was happening. He was a man who operated on logic and reason, and nothing about the current situation made any sense. So, naturally, all that left his mouth was an unintelligent “Wuh?”

She giggled. “Oh, you’re so cute in the morning.”

What?

She leaned down and pecked him on the lips. “Come and eat before it gets cold.”

What?

Mercifully, she left at that moment, so she didn’t see him short-circuiting. Okay, calm down, he commanded himself through his racing heart and sweating hands. It was ridiculous, he never had such extreme physical reactions, but to be fair. What just happened?!

Calm down, he thought again, and this time his heartbeat eased slightly. He would do what always helped him calm down: go over the details and focus on what he knew. So here were the things he knew: it looked like he was in Yor’s room, which they may be sharing. Somehow, the events of the previous day hadn’t passed, as Anya wasn’t angry and Yor didn’t remember. Anya didn’t have those cones on her head. Yor could cook. Yor could kiss.

Was he in a coma?

No, that was ridiculous… but so was everything else. Nothing made sense. He mulled over it in bed before suddenly remembering—his mission log! He wrote everything that happened in that secret log. If, by chance, he had somehow been drugged and knocked out by an enemy organization and was currently experiencing hallucinations in a torture facility, his mission log might indicate some plans to go to said enemy organization and he would finally have an explanation.

He got out of bed and opened the closet. He was sharing it with Yor, half of her clothes hanging on one side and his on the other. Ignoring the way that unsettled him, he knelt down and rooted around in his sock drawer. He pulled out an argyle sock with a loose thread and reached inside, praying. His prayers were answered when his fingers met cool metal. The key was there. He got up and reached inside the closet for his briefcase next. After unlocking it with the key and entering the 26-digit code, he clicked the case open and sifted through various forms of ammunition and explosives before pulling out the log, located at the very bottom. Of course, the whole thing was written in 3 layers of code, but there was no such thing as being too careful.

He flipped to the previous day’s log, expecting to see the same writing he’d put down in the morning and maybe an extra paragraph if he was lucky, but he paused.

It was all different.

‘Today went well, like usual. Anya did well at school. Closeness with Damian questionable, but successfully transferred gift. Yor had work function. Attended and put up successful front of upper class couple. Five stellas left. Estimated time of Strix completion roughly three months from now.’

There were too many things in that short statement for him to consider. ‘Today went well like usual’? Since when was that usual?

And five Stellas left? That meant Anya had already obtained three Stella stars! It should have made him overjoyed, but he was just baffled. Had WISE finally snapped and pulled every string in the last night? He couldn’t see any other way for Anya to have somehow gotten two more stars than she’d had yesterday.

And the last thing—Strix to be completed three months from now? Last month, Handler had told him that they were hoping to complete the operation within four months. He’d been so bad at lying that he could achieve that timeframe that Handler had snapped at him. But here, his log indicated that he was on track with WISE’s expectations. That everything was going according to plan.

He sat on the floor and started from the beginning of the log. He was a fast reader and had photographic memory, but even he had to reread some parts several times in disbelief.

Anya was adopted from the same orphanage, but none of her eccentricities were listed down. In fact, all he’d written was that she was well-behaved and performed well in school. What about her speech? What about her eclectic facial expressions? What about her love for peanuts, or her hate for carrots, or her uncanny ability to recognize his thoughts, or how she drove him mad, or how she made him proud?

As for Yor, he’d met her at that same party, but had correctly introduced himself as her boyfriend. Afterwards, they had actually started dating, and Loid waited a period of three months (short, but surely more appropriate than three hours) before proposing to Yor at a fancy restaurant. Romantic enough, the log read, to fool both passerby and Yor.

That was why they shared a room, and why she’d kissed him. Here, wherever he was, he was not in a mutually beneficial arrangement with Yor. She thought they were actually married, possibly even loved him—which was what he had originally planned for when first trying to find a wife.

The bitter taste in his mouth at that realization was not lost on him.

Was it possible he was dreaming? He pinched his arm. If this was a dream, it wasn’t one he could force himself out of. At least for now, he had to deal with the unfamiliar family outside his door. It seemed, at least, that he was still a spy and that Strix was still going on, so perhaps he could go to Handler and try to get some facts straight. Dream or not, he was not about to stumble around not knowing what was going on around him.

He heard Yor’s footsteps outside the door. Another thing for him to note down in his mind: she didn’t have the unparalleled ability to catch him by surprise here. He quickly closed the briefcase and shoved it back in the closet as Yor poked her head in the room.

“Loid? Are you going to eat?”

“Sorry, I just knocked some shirts off their hangers and was putting them back up,” he said smoothly. He got up and brushed himself off. “I’m coming.”

She sent him another smile before leaving again. He swallowed. Did they usually kiss? She seemed to do it with ease. He suddenly froze and looked back at the bed.

Did they…?

But the Twilight in the log wasn’t him. That Twilight had fooled Yor. That Twilight was a better spy than him. That Twilight made him angry. If he took advantage of Yor…

But what was he thinking? It was what he’d done many times before. Why was it different now?

He was giving himself a headache with all the difficult questions, so he put them aside for the moment and went outside to eat. The omelette was perfect. Anya had impeccable table manners. Bond, he noticed, sat attentively at the door like a guard-dog instead of begging for scraps at the table like he usually did.

It was the perfect family for the mission. So why did he feel so unnerved?

“Ugh.” At Yor’s grunt, he turned to see her hand clenched over a jar of jelly. She was twisting with all her might, but the lid wouldn’t come loose. After a few seconds she gave up and sent him a sheepish smile. “Could you get this for me?”

“Oh… sure.” He twisted the jar open with ease. Yor could pulverize a jar like this between her pointer finger and thumb. This Yor gratefully took the opened jar from him with soft thanks.

Breakfast passed peacefully. Anya hadn’t overslept, so she had time to neatly finish her food and gather her things for school. He and Yor got ready for work in the same room. He stared at his feet the whole time. They walked Anya to the bus, where she cheerfully bid them goodbye.

“I’ll see you later at home then,” Yor said, turning to him once Anya’s bus had vanished into the distance. He could tell what was coming this time and prepared himself for her kiss. This one was longer, long enough for him to close his eyes and shudder when she pulled away.

She placed a hand on his cheek, a divot between her brows. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

He swallowed, mouth dry. Everything was perfect. His daughter was a pleasant, well-mannered child who performed in school. His wife kissed him good morning and goodbye. He was a spy executing his mission without a hitch.

Everything was wrong.

But the one thing that was the same was that he was a liar, so he leaned his face into her palm and placed his hand over hers. It was fascinating to see, the things he could do here that he’d only had fleeting thoughts of before. Her face flushed, but no more than a wife’s face would flush at an ordinary act of affection from her husband. “Yes,” he lied. “I would.”

…

Unfortunately, no details were revealed by WISE like he’d hoped. Instead, he was greeted with a pleased Handler when he entered her office. He thought she might be putting up an act to scare him later until she spoke.

“Good job with the third star,” she told him. “Let’s try getting her fourth one in the arts. It’s good to be well rounded.”

“The arts,” he repeated. He remembered her horrid cow drawing. Handler pulled out a folder from her desk.

“Yes. There’s an art contest coming up soon, isn’t there? She can enter any of these pieces for the first-to-third grade group. They’re quite good.”

He opened the folder and looked at the pictures of the artworks inside. Accurate, if not slightly lopsided, depictions of prominent figures. Landscape watercolors with good usage of color and perspective. A few sloppy but intelligently framed still-lifes of fruit.

He thought he preferred the horrid cow. All he said out loud, though, was “Understood.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Usually his debriefings with Handler lasted much longer, because they had so many things to go over and attempt to fix or counteract. This was an ideal situation, one in which she was pleased and the meeting went smoothly.

It did nothing to ease the sense of crookedness that had pervaded him all day.

When he got home, Yor was already there. This Yor, it seemed like, didn’t have to work late shifts. She was humming in the kitchen as she prepared dinner. It smelled delicious, but he wasn’t sure if his stomach grumbled or churned.

“Oh! Welcome back.” When she kissed him this time, he was able to keep himself together enough to reciprocate the appropriate amount and smile at her when she pulled back. “I’m making potato soup.”

“Smells good,” he said. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Help?” She cocked her head. “Don’t worry about that, you just got back from work! You should relax. Anya will be back soon.”

He didn’t want to sit alone with his thoughts, not to mention that he was used to cooking supper and had actually come to enjoy it. But Yor might think something was off if he pushed. She might put her hand on his face again, look at him with that divot between her eyebrows. He probably wouldn’t be able to take that. So he picked his poison and sat in the living room where Bond was resting. Usually the hound liked to rest by Loid’s feet when he returned from work, but this Bond remained in the corner. It was a small detail, but one he noticed nonetheless.

About twenty minutes later, Anya entered the apartment. “I’m home!”

“Welcome home!” Yor came out of the kitchen to hug Anya. “How was school?”

“Good! I got an A on the science test!”

“Wow!”

“There’s also an art contest,” she added. “I want to enter!”

“Go for it, your artwork is amazing!”

Over dinner, which tasted as good as it smelled, everyone shared their days. Anya’s school tales were nothing out of the usual for a normal child. Yor’s work stories were perfectly normal for a civil worker. Loid shared select details from his own mundane psychiatry. Dinner was civil, and normal. It was all normal.

After dinner, Anya studied mathematics. This Anya didn’t beg to watch Spy Wars—he wasn’t sure if she watched at all. This Anya didn’t struggle with fractions. This Anya didn’t beg to stay up past her bedtime and ran to the bathroom when Yor told her it was time to wash up. When he tucked this Anya in and asked if she wanted her chimera plushie, she sent him an incredulous look.

“I don’t sleep with that anymore, Papa,” she said. A little belatedly, he realized that the penguin plushie he won for her was missing from her room, too.

Maybe the other Twilight never got that plushie for her at all. That thought made him feel as hollow as the circle of Anya’s arms.

He bid her goodnight and washed up for bed himself. When he returned to his room, he froze.

Yor was on their bed, reading a book. She was wearing a nightgown. It wasn’t particularly revealing or racy, but it was nothing a woman would wear in front of someone she wasn’t married to. At least, not in the real sense. She glanced up at him and shut the book. “Loid? What’s the matter?”

“I…” His mouth was parched as his fears from that morning came barrelling back into his head. What did the other Twilight do with this Yor? How? How did he lay with her at night without feeling like he was going to throw up at the very thought?

He could imagine an answer now, though. It was because that Twilight was the ideal spy, with the ideal family, completing his mission in the most ideal way possible. That Twilight never made any mistakes; that Twilight adopted the perfect child to complete Strix, properly romanced a woman, and treated her like his wife. In every sense. And because that Twilight was the perfect spy, he would lay with Yor, kiss her, and would definitely be able to toss her aside in three months.

“You’ve been off all day,” Yor said as she approached him. He froze, eyes locked on the wall. Her hands came on the side of his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Really, Loid, what is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

I haven’t told you anything, he wanted to shout. I’ve been lying. He lied. I did.

At his silence, she leaned up and kissed him. The first three kisses from that day were short, if not sweet. This one was long. Languid. It was impossibly warm and felt impossibly good as she raked her fingers through his scalp. It pulled his heart to his throat when she pulled away just a breath, eyes lidded. “You’re stressed. Come to bed.”

It was when she leaned up again that he’d had enough. Gently, but firmly, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back, trying not to break under the hurt look she was giving him. Desire and disgust roiled through him in waves.

He could not. He would not. It didn’t matter what the other Twilight had done, or if this was a dream or hallucination. He wouldn’t do this with Yor, not when she didn’t know anything. Maybe it was just him losing his touch, or maybe he had a soft spot for Yor that he was still refusing to acknowledge, but she deserved better than a liar. Even if that might be to the detriment of the mission.

“I remembered I have some things to finish up for work,” he said. “Don’t worry about me and go to sleep. I’ll join you soon.” He quickly collected his things and left the room so he wouldn’t be able to see her expression. Outside, he spread his things out on the coffee table before lying down on the sofa.

Please be a dream. Please be a dream. He shifted and closed his eyes. He didn’t think he would doze off, but he must have been more tired than he thought, because soon everything went silent.

…

“Papa? Papa, wake up!” Small hands poked his stomach before a bigger weight landed on him. He let out an ‘oof’.

“Anya, don’t jump on him!”

Before his eyes were even fully open, the details of what had just transpired flashed through his mind. His heart skipped a beat as he blinked and looked to the side.

Large green eyes. And those black horns. Her horns!

Anya furrowed her brows and raised a hand to those hair ornaments as if she’d heard his thoughts. He could almost laugh. There was that uncanny reaction to his thoughts.

“Loid? Are you okay?” He looked up and had to remember to breathe. Yor was smiling at him, kind and gentle as ever. She also stood a pace away, making sure not to lean over him. It made for a strange mix of yearning and relief in his chest, but it was leagues better than her believing in a lie about their marriage.

He looked around. He was on the sofa in his day clothes. The scent of the supper he’d prepared hung in the air. In the entryway, a rug conspicuously covered the place where the hole would be. And Anya looked guilty.

“I’m fine,” he replied. He was even too relieved to do his usual mental spiel of how spies would never doze off in front of others. “I was just tired and fell asleep for a bit. Did you two talk?”

Yor sent Anya a meaningful look. She shuffled and pulled at the hem of her dress. “‘m sorry, Papa. I’m sorry I was so bad to Damian, and I lied, and I almost got a bolt, and I was mean to you…” She looked up and her eyes were already welling up, snot dripping from her nose. “I’m sorry I was so bad today!”

She rushed into his chest, bawling and getting snot all over his vest. He didn’t care. He smoothed a hand over her back and let himself smile. She was loud, messy, and erratic.

This was his daughter. Anya was perfect this way.

“As long as you understand why what you did wasn’t good,” he said to her. “I forgive you, Anya.”

After she calmed down a bit, he looked up at Yor. “Should we have supper?”

“Ah, yes.” As they got up, Anya holding onto Loid’s leg, Yor gestured to the rug by the entryway. An embarrassed flush was aglow on her face. “Um… also… do you remember that old toaster you were going to toss out?”

“The toaster?” Loid blinked. “Yes, why?”

“Well…since you were going to throw it away anyways, I thought…” She trailed off and decided to go over to the rug instead. She peeled it back to reveal a hunk of metal squished and flattened into the hole. “S-so it’s not a danger anymore. I swear I’ll fix it for real, but just for now—I hope you don’t mind, I—”

A laugh bursted out of Loid before he could stop it. Anya and Yor both looked up at him with the same curious expression that only seemed to swell his heart even more.

“It’s perfect, Yor.”

And it was. It was unconventional, jarring, and definitely strange, but it was stronger for it. And he rather liked the way it looked.

410 notes · View notes

jokersfangirl84 · 8 months

Text

Words Get in the Way

A Frankie Morales x F! Reader Fic

Chapter Three

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F! Reader

Summary: Four weeks have passed since Frankie came back to your place and made love to you for the first time after you both confessed your true love for one another, becoming more than friends. Afterwards he was called out for a mission to Colombia which was supposed to have only lasted a few days. You haven't heard from him in hours on the day he's scheduled to come home and you begin to think he's not returning. He introduces you to some interesting bedroom escapades you have never before experienced, and unveils some of his own personal kinks he'd been hiding for years. He has also brought you a rather unorthodox gift...with an unusual proposition...

Word Count: 5800+

Warnings/Ratings: M-Explicit! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Nothing But smut!! Hooooooooo boy. I went out of control on this one. There are full descriptions of PIV Sex, unprotected sex (although I do strongly suggest wrapping it up), multiple orgasms, vaginal/anal fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), shower sex, sex against the wall, doggy style sex, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex (nothing too intense), kissing, touching, masturbation, dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, vulgarity, profanity, TONS of F-bombs with which I may have gone overboard, several mentions of cock, pussy, ass. Mentions of possible past trauma. There are sprinkles of sweetness, worry, love, doing anything for the person with whom you're in love. Characters call each other "Baby" and "My Love" many times throughout.

Author's Notes: OH MY GOD. YALL. I have done a VERY bad thing. I should be ashamed. This is the dirtiest, sleaziest, horniest, smuttiest, filthiest thing I have ever written in my entire life. This makes Chapter 2 look very tame. Frankie is a very naughty, filthy boy in this. He hasn't seen his girl in weeks so he is feeling rather.....*ahem*....anxious. I can't believe I wrote this. I basically didn't hold back & let it all out & poured my heart and soul into it. This took me three months to finish because I kept doubting it would be any good. I kept getting in my feels; not only from the content itself but from being unable to convince myself I was any good at writing. I didn't think I ever would get it completed & almost gave up but I knew that wasn't an option. I really enjoyed writing this once I got in the groove & stopped overthinking everything. I want to thank all my wonderful friends for their encouragement & to all the incredibly talented writers out there whose material I turned to for inspiration and motivation. Y'all are amazing! I hope you enjoy this and hope it makes you feel the things you want to feel. Happy reading! Thank you for all your support!

Side Note: there's an unexpected twist! Not gonna say where but it's in there!

Below are the links for Chapters 1 & 2! Enjoy!

Stay tuned for Chapter 4!

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! I appreciate you so much!

Feedback is welcome!

Reblogs & likes are loved and appreciated!

Thank you to my besties @popcornforone @salgal78 @princessjenn420 and @fatimaisabelpascal for all your love, advice and encouragement to keep me writing and going forward with my ideas! I wouldn't have finished this chapter without you guys' precious support! I love you so much! @harriedandharassed @sherala007 you asked to be tagged in chapter 3 so here you go! Please enjoy!

(Reader's POV)

You stood in the shower letting the steaming water flow carelessly over you, resisting the impulse to have an emotional breakdown. There'd been no contact from Frankie since he last texted you saying his plane landed, his luggage was located, and he was on his way. That was four hours ago. You called him repeatedly; straight to voicemail each time. No replies to your frequent "where are you?" "are you okay?" texts to him. You even contacted Pope, Redfly, Ironhead, and Benny asking about his whereabouts. No one had heard from him since deboarding the plane and going their separate ways. Panic began settling in. Sinister thoughts crowded your mind:

He isn't returning to you. He has changed his mind. He has taken Erica back or found someone else. He made love to you, gave you what you wanted, and now he has nothing to do with you.

You shook your head, silently telling yourself not to think that way. Frankie would never treat you in such a manner. He is not that person. He has always been there for you. He meant every word he said when he told you he loves you.

You still wondered where the hell he was, and why he wasn't replying to you. Maybe he stopped to get a bite to eat and left his phone in the car. Maybe he decided to go to his place first for a nap and forgot to set an alarm. Convincing yourself these were plausible reasons for his absence helped you push the negative thoughts aside. You continued scrubbing the sweat and grime off your body accumulated from cooking dinner and cleaning your apartment all day, preparing for Frankie's arrival. You haven't seen him in four weeks and you needed to get a shower in before he showed up.

(Frankie's POV)

Frankie arrived at your apartment fifteen minutes after your shower started. He let himself in, setting his black duffel bag on the sofa. Your apartment smelled like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, his favorite. A full two dozen waited for him on the stove. Sitting on the counter was a crockpot full of boiling homemade stew. The rumbling hunger in his stomach intensified. He hadn't eaten much all day, only the unsatisfactory meals on the plane. He couldn't wait to get to your place knowing you'd have something fantastic prepared for him.

"I'm here, Baby. Where's my girl?" You were nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen. He could hear music coming from the bathroom down the hall, hear the faint roar of the shower running, see steam clouds seeping through the barely cracked-open door, smell your floral body wash. He pushed it open wider, peeking inside.

"Baby, it's me." No reply. You were too busy singing along to your favorite tune to hear him. He stiffened against his jeans when he heard your angelic voice; saw your nude silhouette behind the glass door. The idea of surprising you and making you scream the way he did on the sofa a few weeks ago popped into his mind. His brain constantly replayed the events of that night. He loved the sounds he was able to coax out of you as he fucked you for the first time after years of longing. Loved how his name rolled off your tongue, how your nails felt digging into his skin, how your worlds collided when you confessed your true feelings for each other. He could still feel you clenching around him as he made you cum. God, he wanted-no, needed more of this. He needed you.

Knowing how much you disliked having your personal space invaded made him change his mind about joining you. He closed the door and made his way back to the living room, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a few cookies, consuming them in seconds. He made himself comfortable in the recliner, closed his eyes, pulled his cap down, hands resting on his belly, fingers interlocked. His body felt limp with exhaustion, in great need of rest. He was beyond relieved to be back in the States. This extra-long trip to Colombia had been a nightmare. The mission was only scheduled to have lasted three days. Plans went astray in every possible way: flights were delayed, vehicles broke down, the group received inadequate pay (even after being promised a much larger sum; the main reason the job was taken), desperate measures were executed by the guys during an ambush.

Your soothing singing, the only noise filling the entire dwelling, urged him to fall asleep. Images of what you looked like in the shower appeared behind his eyelids; the soapy water trailing down your body, over your breasts and erect nipples, down your stomach, between your thighs as you glided your favorite loofah over your skin. Your soft, delicate hands massaging their way through your hair. You pleasuring yourself with the hand-held shower nozzle while thinking of him....his name on your lips...begging to be fucked....

He began sleepily palming himself through his pants. He wondered how much time you had left in the shower. You were notorious for making them last longer than necessary. He opened his belt and zipper and wrapped a hand around his already-hard cock, flicking his index finger over his leaking tip, giving himself a couple of languid strokes, almost in a deep sleep. The more he pictured you being wet, naked, and vulnerable, the faster his strokes became. He was on the verge of climaxing when his eyes shot open, coming to a realization.

Wait a minute. Why the fuck am I doing this? There is someone who can take care of your needs...and she's only a few feet away…

He climbed out of the recliner and made his way to the bathroom. Fuck it. He was going to join you whether you liked it or not.

(Reader's POV)

You were rinsing the shampoo out of your hair when you thought you felt an unusual cool breeze behind you. You shrugged it off, knowing the shower door had a tendency to slide open a little on its own. The feel of large, familiar masculine hands on your shoulders startled you; soft fingertips pushing your hair aside allowing luscious lips to kiss the back of your neck. You turned around and saw Frankie standing in the shower with you, his lips slightly parted, a few water droplets mapping his bare chest. His cock big and swollen, in need of attention.

"Hi, Baby." He grinned. "Stop ogling me. I need to kiss you now."

You didn't realize your head was cocked to one side, and you were smiling. "I'm not ogling you, My Love. I'd call it...admiring the craftsmanship."

He snorted, running both hands through his misty hair. "Craftsmanship, huh? Since you put it that way, I'll let you look a little longer."

You took a moment to admire him, your eyes slowly following his physique from head to toe. Damn, what a sight he is. His lean, virile 5'11" frame was held up by strong legs, long torso, wide shoulders, and most glorious neck. His hair is just past regulation length, unruly strands tickling his eyes. The subtle thickness of his waistline and uneven beard - perfect imperfections - making your heart swell with even more love for him. He's the most beautiful man you've ever seen. The kind of man you want to touch constantly but are afraid to do so; he's such an immaculate, delicate work of art.

You noticed he had a fresh, deep six-inch long scar on his left pectoral near his collarbone. You stepped closer to him, placing your fingertips next to the scar.

"Frankie! What is this?!" You tried to conceal the worry in your voice. "Did this happen on the mission? What happened?"

A plethora of scars decorated his chest, abdomen, arms, even on his hands. Cuts, scratches, and bruises of various shapes and sizes. This particular wound, however, looked recently inflicted, like it came from a blade.

"Don't worry about it" was his sharp response. He put his hands up in front of him. "Trust me, it's nothing major. A little mishap is all it is."

"Is every scar you have a mishap? Are they from.....her? What are you not telling me?"

You knew mentioning Erica would strike a nerve in him. You weren't intending to be crude; only genuinely concerned about what he'd been through, who or what had hurt him. He had mentioned nothing to you about being injured. There was evident pain behind his eyes.

He tensed up. Jaw clenched. Hands on hips. He licked his lips and swallowed hard.

"Baby, please. Don't. Now is not the time."

You put your hands on his face pushing his long bangs away from his eyes. His cheeks were red hot; it wasn't from the water temperature. "It's not my objective to trigger you, My Love. I'm just cur-"

"-I said drop it." His voice had become low and minatory. "I never discuss my scars with anyone, including you."

His words stung a little. You hung your head, your eyes now giving the floor attention. This is the man you love, your best friend. You want to know everything about him. Want him to feel comfortable pouring his heart out to you and tell you all his deepest, darkest secrets without judgment. As long as you've known him you knew he was never one to discuss feelings. You hoped being in an actual relationship with him would make him feel like an open book.

Frankie put a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back to him. "I'm sorry, Baby. I didn't mean to snap at you." His voice returned its softness. "Believe me, I want to tell you about my scars as much as you want to know about them. I will. I promise. The time will come."

You nodded and smiled. "Yes, My Love. Understood."

"Please can I kiss you now?" His eyes bolted from your eyes to your lips. "Those lips are looking awfully lonely."

You laughed. "You don't have to ask."

Frankie gently pushed you up against the shower wall, enveloping your mouth in a passionate, desirous kiss. His hands were on your breasts, thumbs flicking across your nipples, fingers massaging the soft flesh. You both were now directly under the shower head, the warm water cascading down your faces, mixing with your lips and tongues. Ripples flooded your body when you felt his hard tip pressed against you, making you yearn for him even more.

"I missed you", he said between kisses. "I know I should've been here earlier. Fuckin' truck wouldn't start after I finally located it in the parking lot. Took me an hour to find someone to give me a boost."

You ran your hands through his hair. "I missed you too, My Love. I tried calling you several times. Every time you didn't answer I kept thinking something terrible happened to you."

His face was now in your neck. "I'm sorry, Baby. Besides my truck issues, I lost my damn charger at the airport. Couldn't find a replacement. Then the fuckin' phone died as soon as I hit the interstate." The irritation in his voice was apparent.

"My goodness, Love. Sounds like you've had a hell of a day. Let me give you what you need." You lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist, moving your body closer to his trying to maneuver him inside of you. He pushed your leg down, laughing. "Needy little thing aren't you! But not yet, Baby. There's something else I'd like to do to you first."

You looked up at him, pouting and whimpering. He smirked, waving his index finger in front of your face and shaking his head. "No, none of that. We need to establish some rules. You must be a good girl, or you'll get nothing."

You raised an eyebrow. A faint, imperceptible smile overtook your lips. "Ooooh, rules, Frankie? To make sure I'm a good girl for you? I thought you liked my neediness."

His smirk grew wider. "Of course I do, Baby. But patience is a must. Good, obedient girls get rewarded. Bad girls get punished."

You shot him a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Punished? How? Frankie, what the hell are you talking about?"

He winked at you. "No time for explanations now. You'll find out later."

Before you could ask any more questions he dropped to his knees, pressing his hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing them further apart. His face was now inches from your pussy. You gasped when you realized what he had in mind.

"No! Not that!" You tried to push his head away. He looked up at you, brow furrowed. "No? Why not? If memory serves me correctly, didn't you say last time I was here you wanted us to do everything?" His expression relaxed, eyes full of concern. "Or...wait- is this not something you like?"

You turned away from his gaze, blushing. "I...actually- no one has ever performed it on me."

You felt ashamed for admitting to someone who sets your soul alight as much as Frankie does that you'd never had a man taste you.

He grinned, the darkness of his eyes deepening. "Is that so? Hmmm...." He rubbed his chin, one hand still on the inside of your thigh. "You know what I think? I think that's because you've never had a real man, Baby. All the guys you've dated are pussies. Pussies who don't eat pussy."

You giggled. He's such a smartass. But he wasn't wrong. None of your past relationships ever cared about pleasing you. It was always about what they wanted: pounding into you uncomfortably, flopping on top of you like a fish, climaxing within minutes and leaving you unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Frankie Morales was the complete opposite. He made you feel like your needs, your satisfaction, was more important than his own; as if his main goal was to take care of you. He was patient. He made you feel wanted.

"I've been thinkin' about this sweet pussy all day. Gotta taste it. Please, Baby, can I?" Rivers of shower water snaked their way down his face flattening his thick locks. His eyes still connected with yours.

Those damn puppy dog eyes.

He was quite aware of your inability to resist them; they made you absolutely weak. You nodded anxiously, realizing how foolish it was to deny him anything. Especially anything sexual. "Yes", you breathed. "Yes, My Love, please!"

Frankie spread your folds with two fingers, licking his lips. God, you were glistening. "Fuckin' look at that, would you. So prompt and prepared. So wet for me. Exactly how I like my girl to be." He circled his tongue around your clit -just once- before licking the inside of your folds, furiously lapping up your trickling arousal. Two fingers from his other hand pushed inside of you, curling, bending. You threw your hands into his hair letting out a long, plaintive whine.

"Fuckin' delicious," he breathed, not looking up. He took his fingers out, put them in his mouth, and inserted them back inside you. He moved them in and out while endlessly flicking his tongue across your clit, making you whine louder. He took his fingers out once more, but instead of putting them in his mouth, he put them in yours.

"Taste it," he demanded, moving them around the circumference of your mouth, now looking up at you. "Taste how sweet you are."

You followed orders, both hands gripping his forearm and wrist, wrapping your lips around his fingers. You swirled your tongue around the digits, bobbing your head up and down as if you were fellating him, all the while the two of you keeping eye contact.

"Fuck that's sexy." He took his fingers out of your mouth, put them in his own, savoring the taste briefly, and put them back in yours, instructing you to keep sucking. He turned his attention back to your pussy. You moaned and closed your eyes, feeling his tongue inside you moving up and down quickly. You sucked on his fingers harder; your hands gripping his wrist and forearm so tightly your knuckles were turning white. The feel of his tongue deep inside your hole, while he rubbed your clit with his other hand, made you nearly lose consciousness from the pleasure. So many things were happening to you at once; all your senses and emotions at play. You couldn't tell if the sounds you were hearing were yours or his. No coherent thought could be produced.

"Come on, Baby, show me," he said, swiping his tongue through your folds. "Show me - swipe - what - swipe - this pussy - swipe - can do."

The movements of his fingers against your clit quickened; his glorious tongue exploring every nook and cranny, no inch left untasted. The fingers previously your mouth now driving into your pussy at such speed your legs shook. He took his index finger and thumb and pinched your overstimulated clit, wrapping and sucking his lips around the sensitive bud.

"Frankie! What are you doing to me! Oh my God!"

Your body jolted as you felt a massive outpouring of your juices, reaching the pinnacle of desire. A loud wail trailed out of your throat; the pleasure hitting you like a freight train. You held your hands up near your face, shaking, trembling, looking down at the frenzy between your legs.

"Good girl! Best pussy I've ever tasted." He stood up, wiping your mess off his face - it was everywhere - with the back of his hand and licking it off. "That was fuckin' incredible. Gonna fuck you now. You earned it. Ready?"

You nodded, breathless, fighting for air after what you'd just experienced. "Pl-please. I'm always ready for you, My Love."

Your scenery changed in a flash. Frankie flipped you around to where you were now facing the shower wall; your stomach and chest pressed against the cold, wet tile. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips, his cock nudging your entrance.

"Put your palms against the wall, Baby. Stick your ass out. Spread those legs for me."

You followed instructions. He kept one hand on your hip, the other gripping your shoulder as he thrust into your drenched pussy with a low, rough grunt. He began pounding into you without giving you a chance to adjust to his length, knocking even more air out of your lungs.

"Fuck yes, Baby. This is how I always wanted to fuck you. All those nights I stayed over and fucked my fist to the thought of you. This is what I imagined us doing."

All you could do was close your eyes and moan at what you were hearing. You knew he jerked off many times when he spent the night at your apartment. He is a man, after all. But never in a million years did you think it was you getting him off.

"Frankie...oh fuck..." His thrusts were endless. You reached behind you to touch him, eager to feel hot, wet skin and muscle beneath your fingers. He grabbed your hand and pressed it back in its place against the wall.

"No, no, Baby. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Your eyes shot open as one of his great hands came in contact with your ass with a loud, wet slap, causing your body to lurch forward.

That's gonna leave a mark.

"Oh, shit!" You glanced back at him over your shoulder, keeping your hands in place.

"Umm....Frankie? What...was...that?"

"You know what it was." He slapped your ass again, this time on the other cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip as the pain bloomed across your body. You didn't want to admit it but the stinging sensation felt spectacular; so much better than the playful slaps he gave you when you were just friends.

"Fuck yes! More, Frankie, more! Please!"

"Ah, so you do like having your beautiful ass spanked. Filthy girl." He obliged, slapping your ass harder than before; his thrusts never ceasing. He still gripped your shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh. "Come on. Move, Baby, move," he demanded. "Don't make me do all the work."

You weren't exactly clear on what he meant at first, or what was bringing on this behavior. But you'd be damned if you denied you liked it. Your countless fantasies about him almost always involved him dominating you, spanking you, tying you up, making you beg for him, calling you dirty names, doing nasty, obscene, disgusting things to you, putting you in positions that would make even a contortionist shudder. In reality, your sweet Frankie would never be into such things. He would be downright embarrassed at what you wanted him to do to you.

Apparently, you were wrong.

You looked back at him, confused.

"I...I...don't...uh...what?"

Both hands moved to your sides and pulled you closer to him, making back and forth motions.

"Like this, Baby. Come on, don't be shy." His saccharine voice set your mind at ease. "Let me and help me take good care of you."

Realizing what he was asking you to do you rocked your body back into him, taking him fully all the way to the base; coarse, wet hairs tickling your ass. Frankie trailed his fingers up and down your spine; those large hands so soft it felt like he wasn't even touching you at all.

"Yeah, Baby. Just like that. Show me how I'm making you feel."

Your impassioned mewls and sighs increased as you moved back and forth faster, your ass crashing into his hips making him groan and pant. Even through the bellow of the falling water you could hear the inappropriate sounds of your wet bodies smacking against one another. You threw your head back, not caring that the tepid stream was hitting you directly in the face.

"Frankie...I've never done it this way...you feel...so...fucking...good."

His cock gliding against your walls, along with the fact he was doing things to you that you'd only dreamed about, had you gasping for the breath he had taken away from you.

"So do you, Baby. So goddamn tight. Jesus fuckin' Christ."

He coiled his hands through your hair giving it a gentle tug, looking down at the junction of your bodies. "God I missed this pussy. I never want to go this long without it again."

"Me too, My Love." You uttered a pleased hum. "God I love the way your cock feels inside of me. My pussy felt so empty without it."

He chuckled. "Tell me something, Baby. Do you always want to be fucked like this?"

Nodding was the only response you could give; words stolen by sobs and wails as he moved his hips against your ass faster.

"Did you mean it when you said you'd do anything for me?"

Nod.

"Were you being truthful in saying you'd always dreamed of belonging to me?"

Nod.

He slapped your ass once more, a hand still in your hair, making you shriek as he tugged harder.

"Words, Baby!" Slap. "Vocalize!" Slap. "I need to hear you say it!" Slap.

You were definitely going to have handprints on your ass later.

"Yes!" You wheezed. "My Love, Yes! I want to belong to you! Fucking own me!"

The way you moaned those last two words made him laugh. "You want me to own you, you say?"

"Yes!" you answered without hesitation. "In every sense of the word!"

His lips curled into a pleased smile. "Good girl. That's the answer I was expecting." He let go of your hair and spun you around to where you were now facing him.

"Hold on to me, Baby. It's okay, I got you." He placed his hands under your thighs and picked you up effortlessly, pinning you against the shower wall with his body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your ankles crossed, one arm flung around his neck, the other clutching his shoulder. Within seconds he was back inside you fucking you like his life depended on it, his vigorous thrusting forcing your body up and down, lifting, falling. His face deposited in your neck, licking, kissing, sucking every inch of skin between your neck and shoulder. You tilted your head back, eyes closed, mouth open, desperate cries filling your tiny bathroom. You're so full of him, his cock so deep inside you touching every nerve, every tendril, every fiber, every corner. The head of him pressing the switch within you that made you lose all modesty, all control.

"Oh, God, yes! Harder, My Love! Harder!" You were basically shouting the words. "Fuck me like you own me!"

He growled and hissed in your ear as the brutality of his thrusts intensified. His fingers and hands squeezing your skin so tightly you were certain you'd be left with marks, bruises, fingerprints. The pain, the pleasure; it was all equally too much and not enough. It was fucking magnificent; leaving your mind in shambles.

"Yes, Baby, yes!" he panted. I fuckin' love hearing you talk this way. So fuckin' dirty."

He was now looking at you, eyes hazy with pleasure, mouth open. "Gonna cum soon, Baby. Where do you want it? Inside?"

"Yes!" You cried, locking your eyes with his. "You don't need permission! Just fuckin' do it! Cum inside me, please!"

A smile spread across his lips, a satisfied twinkle gleaming in his eye. "You are so fuckin' perfect, Baby, I swear. Fuckin' made for me." He put an index finger in his mouth and, without warning, pushed it repeatedly inside your asshole -while still fucking you into oblivion.

"Frankie!" You practically screamed his name. "That's...oh fuck...what the fuck! That's too much! I can't-"

"-You can take it, Baby. I know you can. Show me. Don't hold back."

No way was he going to make you cum twice. That was impossible; only something you'd seen in movies and TV. Something that always suspends your disbelief, making you scoff and roll your eyes. But this? Imminent. You were going to have multiple orgasms in one night for the first time ever in your life. Then he stuck another finger inside your ass. And that was it; the shot of adrenaline straight to the heart, the needle bursting the tiny pleasure-filled bubble in your stomach, the surge of electricity pulsing through your veins. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck , fingertips kneading, clawing into the flesh of his back holding on for dear life.

Frankie gave one last forceful buck of his hips as he spilled into you, an orchestra of explicit noises and words coming from the both of you. You could feel the concoction of warm liquids between your thighs shooting up into you like fireworks. Your vision was now a swirling sea of unrecognizable colors. Your head collapsed on his shoulder, his chin on yours, chests heaving against each other's, breaths coming and going in quick intervals.

"I love you so much, Frankie" you finally managed to say after what seemed like an eternity of silence. "You make me feel things I had no idea I could feel."

You felt him smile against your neck. "I love you too, Baby. I always knew I'd be the one to broaden your horizons."

You embraced him tighter running your hands up and down his back. "I never wanted anyone like this. It's all brand new to me."

"Likewise, Baby." Frankie removed his hands from the back of your thighs and set you on your feet. You felt like a newborn fawn, legs wobbly, unable to keep your balance. You both laughed as you held on to his forearms for support until you could stand on your own. He shut the water off and opened the sliding glass door, stepping out onto the white feathery bath mat.

"Meet me in the living room after you're dressed," he said as he grabbed a towel off the bathroom door hook and gathered his clothes off the floor. "I have a surprise for you."

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

After changing into leggings and a spaghetti-strap shirt, you found Frankie sitting on the sofa, his phone in one hand, thumb swiping up and down in quick strokes, dark bottle of beer in the other taking long swigs, eyes never leaving the device screen. His jeans were zipped but unbuttoned, unfastened belt hanging loosely between his legs. His red T-shirt clung to his still-damp skin, portraying each sculpted muscular detail, his moist capless hair an unkempt mess, strands pointing in every direction. You stood at the end of the hallway watching him, leaning your shoulder against the wall, staring, struggling to process what had just taken place in your shower. You had difficulty wrapping your head around the fact that it actually happened; not in one of your fantasy scenarios. Frankie Morales, who you've wanted since the first day you laid eyes on him, was now your lover, your partner; your companion. The one who showed you pleasures you didn't know you wanted or needed. The one who unlocked your passion and freed your mind to explore the depths of your darkest sexual desires.

Your lover. That sounded so forbidden, so taboo.

Frankie looked up from his phone and gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "There's my girl. You disappeared from me. I didn't think you'd come back." He took another sip of beer and set the bottle on the coffee table. "Come on over here so I can give you your surprise."

You took the empty seat next to him. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a small, flat purple gift box wrapped in pink ribbon and placed it in your hands.

"This is for you, Baby. Open it."

"You bought me a gift?"

He nodded, his eyes wide and full of anticipation, an anxious smile across his lips. "Of course. You're my girl. I need to spoil you."

Inside was a thin, black leather choker necklace adorned with numerous diamond-shaped crystals. A sterling silver heart pendant hung from a small chain on the facade, and it fastened like a belt in the back. You didn't wear much jewelry, earrings occasionally. He knew this, which made it a little unclear as to why this would be a gift choice. But you found it to be beautiful. Elegant. Racy.

After a few moments it hit you; the purpose of the gift. You were his. He owns you. You belong to him. He wants it to be shown.

"Frankie, it's lovely. But...I don't wear neck-."

"-You do now," he interrupted. "I want you to wear it as a symbol of my ownership of you. You want to be mine in every possible way? Wearing this necklace will seal that deal."

You stared at the piece of jewelry in your hands, trying to believe what you had just heard; your mind devoid of words.

He scooted closer to you, putting a hand under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "If you think it's excessive, Baby, you don't-"

"-Yes", you answered. "I'll wear it and I'll never take it off. Whatever it takes to make you happy, My Love, I'll do it." You took the accessory out of its box, ready to put it on. Frankie eagerly took it from your hands, his eyes lighting up. "Please, let me do it."

He leaned forward reaching across you to fasten the choker, his cheek brushing against yours, lips next to your ear. "You know what this means, don't you?" He whispered once the necklace was fully around your neck. A hand trailed down your body, between your legs, inside your panties. "This pussy-this body-is mine now." His fingers started rubbing at your clit, making you cry out. "I can do whatever I want with it. Clear?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed. "Fraaannnkkkiiiiieeee..."

"Remember those rules I mentioned earlier?" His lips were still against your ear. "About being a good girl and getting punished for being bad? You must follow them now that you're wearing this necklace. You must obey."

He slipped a finger inside you, moving the digit so rapidly you could hear the vulgar squelching noises, making you squirm. You grabbed his arm. "Frankie!" you moaned. "Yes! I'll do whatever you say, My Love! I'm all yours!"

He grinned, his eyes rich with contentment. His lips crashed into yours, tongue delving into your mouth. Your arms found their way around his neck, your legs moving onto the sofa so you could lie on your back outstretched. Frankie lowered himself onto you, positioning himself between your legs, still dressed, lips never leaving yours, still fingering you like it would be a crime if he stopped, making you hum and whimper. The other hand caressed your still-clothed thigh and leg.

"Gonna cum for me again, are you, Baby?" he asked against your lips. "Are you gonna squirt all over my-"

There was a knock at the door, making Frankie stop the delicious makeout session and look up in confusion. He looked down at you, also perplexed.

"Expecting company?"

You shook your head.

Another knock, this time much louder.

"Want me to see who it is?"

"No, I'll get it." You stood up and made your way to the door located right next to the sofa. You opened it, and the color drained out of your face. Your heart sank.

There she was. Fucking. Erica. Hands pressed on her hips, looking as perfectly put together as always. Black hair, flawless makeup, tight dress, menacing green eyes. The only difference from when you last saw her was now she looked like there had been way too much time spent in a tanning bed and too many collagen injections in her lips. She impatiently tapped her high-heeled foot on the outside concrete floor, her mouth sewn into an angry frown.

"Where is he?" Her voice was eerily stern, lacking emotion. "I know Francisco is here somewhere. Where the fuck is he?!"

You put your finger up. "First of all, Erica, hello to you too. Second, don't come at me with that attitude. Third, what makes you think he would be here?"

Erica rolled her eyes, huffing out an annoyed sigh. "Because his fucking truck is parked out front, dumbass."

"Don't you fuckin' dare speak to her like that." Frankie growled as he walked up next to you, casually throwing his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. "You lookin' for me, Erica? Well, here I am. The hell do you want?"

Erica's eyes switched between you and Frankie, looking you both up and down, noticing your still wet locks, flushed cheeks, his shirt worn inside out and unbuttoned jeans. She shook her head, her eyes on the ground, sarcastic laughter seeping through her lips.

"Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You two fucked, didn't you?"

Frankie cleared his throat. "You shouldn't ask questions to which you know the answers."

She cut her eyes to you. "I suppose you think he's your boyfriend now? That he loves you?"

"Erica, I'm not gonna ask you again." Frankie piped in before you could give her an answer. "Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here?"

His acerbic tone made you take a step an inch away but he still kept his arm on your shoulder. You looked at him while he kept his eyes on Erica. His brow furrowed, lips pursed, jaw tightened, veins in his neck made their appearance, heavy breathing commenced through his nose. His other hand formed into a fist.

Erica pointed a manicured accusatory finger at him. "You. You son-of-a-bitch. You and I need to talk."

(To Be Continued....)

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marveinator · 1 year

Text

Bad Idea Bella Ramsey x fem!oc (original character)

inspired by "Bad Idea" by girl in red (after part one) masterlist

This story is complete imagination and how Bella acts here is probably not how they would act irl. They/them pronouns used for Bella. pairing: Bella Ramsey x fem!oc (Mina Willow Lane) word count: 2.4k summary: You and Bella have been childhood friends, but broke off contact because of their acting career. Will your paths ever meet again? a/n: I´ve had this obsession with girl in red for a while now and of course with Bella so... here yall go! I hope many people read this story, because I am again putting my whole heart into this. And I figured since I basically already read all the Bella fics existing, I´d just write my own. Enjoy! I will try to make the chapters as long as possible so that I don´t have to post so many parts and yall can read the story faster! (Don´t be mad I simply but Pedro in the hashtags because he´s a part of the story) chapter warnings: nickname calling, ig that´s it? next chapter: Bella and Mina decide to go to a party as friends- but are they leaving it like this again?

I closed my laptop. I had just finished watching an interview of Bella Ramsey and Pedro Pascal. Not only because I was so interested in the series "The last of us", but also because… well. Long story.

I knew Bella. Well, at least I used to. I don't know what they´re like now…. but I'm trying to find out by watching all these videos about them. I miss our friendship a lot.

When we were little, our parents were very good friends and so we always played together. However, when they turned 11, their career went on and on and we broke off contact. They were too busy and now we really had no contact at all, especially since their new series.

I read through the comments under some tiktoks about them and realized how many girls admired Bella. Not only because of their acting, no, also as a person. For whatever reason, I felt an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I wanted to go out and scream loudly "I know Bella Ramsey in person!" just so- I don't even know why. I knew all these girls probably had no contact with Bella, and to be exact, I was one of them too.

It just hurt to lose friends. I missed how Bella would still send me videos every now and then of them practicing their guitar, or when we would have a pie-eating contest together when we were 8. I missed their brown eyes and their beautiful hair. Which, as I had now noticed, was a lot shorter.

But Bella was without a doubt still beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remembered, to be exact.

Sometimes I wondered if they still knew that I even existed. My Bella would never forget me, they were outgoing and cheerful. But were they still like that? What if they had changed? I probably wouldn't even find out.

I turned over in my bed with a sigh. For a few months now, I no longer lived with my parents, but in a small apartment on the outskirts of London.

I grabbed my phone from the table besides my bed and decided to go a bit on Instagram. Only to find a new post of Bella on my home feed. They posted a few behind the scenes pics of their new short film “Requiem” which I had obviously already watched. I sighed and liked the post.

This is how it had been for years. I went on their Instagram, liked the new posts and it went unnoticed by Bella. Of course, they probably got thousands of notifications a day, but still, it made me a bit sad. Almost seemed like they completely forgot about me.

Sometimes I wanted to post something just to see if they would like it- but on the other hand I knew that if they wouldn´t, I´d be heartbroken.

I sighed and switched off my phone, after seeing it was already 11 pm. Usually I stayed up longer, but today I felt extra exhausted. Which didn´t make any sense, I mean I stayed at home the entire day.

That´s what I do most of the time. Normally I work at a small café, but it´s currently closed because they are fixing some stuff in there. I´ve been looking for a new job for the few weeks while it´s closed, but everybody said they only would accept me if I would stay. And I love the café I work at too much and having two jobs isn´t an option right now, so- whatever.

The boss said they´d probably open again in 2 weeks- which was 3 weeks ago. I honestly didn´t know what to do because I did slowly run out of money… I just hoped they would open as soon as possible again.

*1 week later*

I didn´t even know if it was legal that I wasn´t even paid while the café was closed (because that seriously wasn´t my fault?) but I managed to handle everything and was back at work again now.

I wiped all the tables clean; we would open soon. I already saw some people outside patiently waiting, so many loved this place.

Not going to lie, I mean the drinks were good, the workers were friendly, and the little muffins were worth coming here.

After we finished preparing everything, I nodded at my coworker Jamie, and he opened the door.

3 hours later the whole café was full, except for one table. This was good, maybe I would get a lot of tips today. I thanked an older couple who just paid and went over to the next table. “Hey, what can I get for you?”, I asked as I looked up from the wallet where I had just put the money in. You gotta be shitting me.

“Mina? Oh my god, you´re the last person I thought I would see here!”

It was Bella.

Bella fucking Ramsey was sitting on the table in front of me.

What is this, a fucking movie? I surely doubt that.

“Hi, Bella”, was all I managed to say. Bella smiled from one side to the other and happily jumped up from their chair to hug me. It hit me all of the sudden and so I awkwardly hugged back. Bella seemed to notice that I was quite surprised about their sudden action, because they replied with a short “Shit, sorry, that was a bit- out of nowhere…”

They sat down again and looked up at me. We were almost the same height; I was just a little bit shorter. I know, I was tiny or something. Sorry.

“Uh- how have you been? Oh wait- I´m probably interrupting you and your work- uh… Can you recommend anything that is vegan?” I looked at them. Seeing them in real life after such a long time was insanely weird but amazing at the same time. “I´ve been alright I guess, and no worries, they won´t mind if I stay here a minute longer than I should. Well, we have normal juices that are probably vegan, but also, I love the vegan version of our hot chocolate or the iced coffee”, I replied.

Bella smiled again and nodded. “Choose one of those for me, I don´t mind which one, it´s your choice.” I agreed and went to get them a drink. I decided to serve them the iced coffee, I loved it a lot. When it was done, I made sure to decorate it a bit, just because it was for Bella. I know, you shouldn´t prefer any customers, but… could you blame me? I just met my childhood best friend (who is also like- really famous now) after years of no contact again.

With this in mind, I went over to the “boss” of the café, Brian. “Hey, uh, would you mind if I-“ He nodded, without even letting me finish my sentence. “You´re free for today, I figured out it was them.” I had told Brian everything about Bella because overtime we grew closer. Not in any romantic way though, I mean he was a 45-year-old married man, and I was definitely a lesbian (he also knew that). I smiled as I thanked him before running of to Bella (not forgetting their iced coffee of course).

I asked if I could sit down a bit, and they said yes. “So- you just got free for today? That easily?”, Bella asked as I gave them their iced coffee. “Yes, but, it´s only an exception, because well, we haven´t seen each other in such a long time and… yeah- “, I answered.

“I missed you, Mina Willow Lane. I´m sorry I didn´t stay in contact with you, I was just so… busy with work and I know that´s a shitty excuse because I mean almost everyone our age works and you should never leave your friends behind”, the brunette across me explained. “I just felt like it would be easier for the both of us that we weren´t in contact that much anymore because I knew that if we stayed best friends, you would be pulled into the spotlight too and I knew you wouldn´t want that.”

I looked into their eyes and tried to smile a bit. “I know… still. You just like- vanished. I´ve missed you like hell too though, Isabella May Ramsey. Don´t ever leave me like that again, or I swear to god I´m gonna get more mad than last time”, I explained. Bella laughed and nodded. “Do you maybe… wanna hang out a bit? I´m not working for a few weeks and we could- get to know each other again, I mean it was a long time, right?”

I decided to agree with Bella and later that day we went for a walk outside.

“You know, I live in this hotel and the people there are like sooooo rude. I´ve been trying to find a better one for weeks. But they have so many good vegan food options, that´s the main point why I chose it”, they explained while walking next to me. I was so happy we were finally together again; I had missed them so much I almost went insane.

“You could stay at mine, I mean, I still have a guest bed left, and it´s just a tiny apartment, but I could make you any vegan food you´d like-“, I said without any hesitation.

Bella Ramsey POV

I stared at Mina. Was she serious about this? Oh.

"I mean, yeah, I'd love to.... But I really don´t want to get into your way of living-", I replied to her offer. "Keep it down Bella, you're not going to get in my way or anything. Besides, if you live with me, we can spend more time together, I mean you owe me that somewhere after all...", said the girl walking next to me with a grin on her face. I couldn't stop smiling either, we had seen each other for the first time in years and had only been walking for 1 or 2 hours- but I already never wanted to leave her again.

I had to admit, I had missed Mina a lot. Sometimes I even went to her Instagram account, but they didn't post anything there and so I couldn't even know what she looked like now. But when I saw her in front of me today, I recognized her immediately. She hadn't changed a bit. Her hair was still long and dark blonde, her eyes green. Her style was a bit different, but I wasn't complaining, I was convinced that she looked good in everything she wore.

"So... you get your stuff, and we meet at mine again?", Mina asked, nudging me out of my thoughts. I nodded and we parted ways again.

As soon as she was gone, everything was different. I immediately missed her laugh, her beautiful green eyes and her unique way. I hated myself inside that I had pushed such an amazing girl away from me.

Just as I was packing up my things in my hotel room, my cell phone rang. Pedro.

"Hey Pedge, what's up?", I picked up. "I just wanted to check up on you, you haven't called in a while..." I had to chuckle, Pedro worried about me so often, for no reason. But I was grateful to have him, he was almost like a best friend by now- or more likely an annoying MUCH older brother. (To be honest- most of the time it was a father-daughter relationship, with me being the dad of course-)

"You're not going to believe this. I met her. Let´s keep it short and sweet, we uh- move in together?" Pedro stared at me (he just loved video calls, okay-) "You what?!" (A/N: I swear I wrote that and had Bill's voice in my head...)

I just grinned a little sheepishly and stared at Pedro.

"I'm so happy for you. You had missed her so much, and now you're going to see her every day for a while.... But- Bella. Keep me up to dated... if- you know- anything happens-" Pedro said with a wink. I just rolled my eyes.

I had probably told him about Mina almost every day, so now he thought I wanted something from her (in a romantic way). Sure, I loved her, but she was really just a friend- (A/N: Adrien Agreste who?)

"Pedro please, nothing special will happen between the two of us," I replied dumbly. After a while I hung up again, I finally had to finish packing.

Mina Lane POV

Nervously, I bounced around my apartment while waiting for Bella to arrive. Everything was clean, I had put a new bar of towels in the bathroom, picked out a few vegan recipes, and prepared the guest bed for them. The guestroom was right next to mine, and about the same size.

Sure, why had I left this room vacant when I lived alone? Well... just in case an old friend would show up here once-

Suddenly I heard the doorbell ring and I pressed the door opener, so that the front door opened downstairs. Now I had only a few seconds until Bella would stand in front of me, with their luggage, ready to move in for a few weeks. Everything had happened so fast, I couldn't even believe it yet.

When there was a knock on the door of my apartment, I felt goose bumps rising all over my body. Carefully I turned the door knob to the right and opened the door. Bella was dressed differently now, they had gray sweatpants and a dark green sweater on, much more simple and comfortable - but still beautiful.

"Hey, come on in," I said and accompanied Bella into the kitchen. It was an open kitchen overlooking the living room (A/N: Here a plan I MADE of the apartment, so that you can imagine it better <;3).

"Cozy in here," Bella said with a grin on their face. I had to giggle and showed them around.

"There's only one bathroom, unfortunately, but it's between our rooms, so I hope that's okay-", I explained. "Oh love, don't act like I'm a complete stranger, we've definitely had sleepovers, so if we ever run into each other in the bathroom at night, I think I'll be able to handle it-", Bella grinned. My face turned red. Not only because of the nickname, but also because of the way they looked at me. What was wrong with me?

"Um yeah... I think it´s pretty late already, I picked out food, plain pasta with tomato sauce, hope that's okay..." Bella nodded and thus I started cooking the food while they settled into their new room. This was going to be a few interesting weeks....

#bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey #ellie williams #fluff #lesbian #sapphic #writeblr #pedro #lgbtq #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #the last of us #isabella may ramsey #marveinator #friends to lovers

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romanstheory · 6 months

Text

I'm The One a Jey Uso Fic Part 6/?

Warnings: Violence, Language, arguing

Word Count: 1,013

Last Part

18 +

We land at our next destination, still high on our steamy session hours before. We exit the plane and immediately head to the arena. "I'll catch up with y'all, I got some bidness to handle" Jimmy says gesturing away from us. Jey and I walks hand in hand down the hall to catering. Everyone seems to be staring, but neither of us really cared. I've never been this public with a relationship, especially at work. It felt right, like everything happened in perfect timing.

Solo walks passed, seeing us holding hands. His eyes look down at our hands then dart up at us. You could almost see the steam coming from his ears. His brown skin tinted red now he grits his teeth and quickly walks the other direction, punching a nearby piece of equipment. He muttered what I assume to be curse words to himself while he storms away like an angry child. The sound startled everyone in the room, it was loud and abrupt. "I guess he's still pissed he took that L" Jey says cackling. Everyone else in the room chuckles.

I swallow loudly and fake chuckle along with everyone else..... My appetite is gone. "You good?" Jey asks me, noticing how unsettled I am. "Yeah..... Yeah I'm fine" I say "That was just a lot". Jey brushes it off and continues eating his food. I pick at my food and twiddle my thumbs until he finishes his food. The clock is ticking.... Almost show time. I'm still put off by the incident earlier while Jey and I stretch together. "You sure you're good, you haven't said much since earlier. Did I do something?" Jey asks concerned. "No you didn't do anything, I'm just in my head a lot. It'll be fine" I say dismissing his concerns.

Solo walks by again, my body tenses up. He stares a hole through me. "What the fuck are you staring at uce?" Jey says bucking up at his younger brother. "Yall together now?" Solo says unfazed by his older brothers antics. "Yeah and what?" Jey replies quickly. For the first time in my life, i'm stuck.... I have nothing to say. My entire life with Jey is in Solo's hands right now. "Please... PLEASE" I say to myself while I stare at Solo straight faced.

Solo frowns and nods his head, looking at me and then Jey. "Cool" He says looking at me once again, hatred and sadness fill his eyes. Jey's music begins to play and he grabs my hand to pull me through the curtain with him. Solo's eyes stay locked on mine, his arms folded and my body full of anxiety. We do our segment, the crowd loved every second of it. For a little while I forgot about what just happened. I pull the curtain back, and there Solo is..... Waiting. "Uce why are you still here?" Jey says in a hostile tone.

"I was gonna spare you, but why would I? She didn't spare me" Solo says. Jey looks at me confused and then back at Solo. "Joseph..." I say. "I don't wanna hear that shit tell him why we really stopped being tag partners" Solo barks. "What the fuck is he talking about?" Jey asks me, getting angry. I am once again speechless, a feeling I deeply despise. "You like that little heart tattoo between her titties?" Solo says with no emotion. Jey is infuriated "Tell me why the fuck he knows that!" Jey screams. "Her ass is soft huh? That was my favorite part" He continues.

"You better shut the fuck up before I break your fucking jaw" Jey screams louder than I ever thought possible. "It was one time!" I scream "We were drunk Jey it was one time". Solo and I got drunk one night, and we had sex. I regretted it once I sobered up, but Solo caught feelings. I told him I didn't feel anything for him, he screwed me over, and here we are now. My stomach sank over the thought that Jey may want nothing else to do with me.

"It was a drunk mistake Jey I swear" I plead "He thought it would turn into something that I told him never would and then he turned on me in the ring". Jey quickly gets in Solo's face. "She played me" Solo says "But that pussy feels good". Jey swings on Solo knocking him to the floor, attracting even more attention onto us. Jimmy comes running in and he and I pull them apart. "What the hell is goin on here?" Jimmy says holding Solo's hands behind his back.

"He took her!" Solo screams. "Man fuck you!" Jey screams while I hold him back. "You're delusional Joseph" I scream back at him. "You had me fooled bitch the way you fucked me I would have thought you loved me" Solo barks. Jey breaks from my grip and rushes toward Solo punching him right in his face. Jimmy lets go of him and he falls to the ground. Jey mounts Solo, punching him over and over again ruthlessly. Jimmy tries to pull Jey away but isn't successful. Solo pushes Jey off and they exchange blows before finally being pulled apart.

"I'm not the fucking villain!" Solo yells while he's being pulled down the hall. "Baby.." I say softly to Jey "I don't wanna talk right now" Jey says pulling away from me and walking away leaving Jimmy and I in the hallway alone in silence. "What was that about?" Jimmy asks. "He found out about the Solo thing" I reply softly. Jimmy sighs heavily.... He already knew the situation but promised he wouldn't say anything as long as I swore it was just a drunk moment. It was...... I have no feelings for Solo.... But apparently he couldn't say the same. "I hope that didn't just ruin everything" I say on the verge of tears. "Nah.... He's crazy about you. He would have just walked away if that was going to ruin it". I hope he's right.... Jimmy is always right....

#wwe #jey uso one shot #Jimmy uso #solo Sikoa #WWE fic #i’m the one

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pjisskullourful · 5 months

Text

in honour of this happening at my gig(its for me, save your breath telling me it aint cos it is! they were in the same building as me. damithan supremacy is fucking real) imma post a little overdue something

my rainbow family halloween fic never came together, i had a cute idea but sometimes the fic dont fic. but yall can have the first 1k+ of what i did write, which includes a little secret i've been keeping from yall for the throuples future. please enjoy, i wish october had been nicer to me so i could have gotten this fic finished for yall

With nothing but Britney Spears to hear as you styled the long blonde wig, it almost felt like old times. You were reminded of spending a huge chunk of your paycheck on new wigs and spending practically every Saturday night at a live music venue, standing for hours in the most uncomfortable shoes known to man. You remembered the extra concentration that had been put into styling the wig that you wore to surprise your boyfriends with your debut (and only) performance in drag.

The illusion of nostalgia was being routinely interrupted by your baby bump getting in your way. At thirty-three weeks pregnant, your movements had to be adjusted from the typical. That kept you from getting entirely lost in memories, along with the blinking baby monitor set up on your desk.

This wasn’t your first time working on this wig, you had been at it with the hairspray and curling iron many times during the course of this month. And it was almost perfect, almost ready to go atop Damiano’s head to complete his Lestat costume. For this year’s iteration of Victoria and René's famous Halloween parties, your boyfriends were dressing to match one another. They were channelling the leads from 1994’s Interview with the Vampire, with Ethan taking on Brad Pitt’s Louis.

You were going as one of their victims, with prosthetic, gory wounds ready to be glued to your body. The 1800’s dance-style dress you planned to wear would accommodate your tummy, as well as fitting the theme since you had gone at it with scissors and dark red paint.

You were interrupted from your work by the sound of your family returning home. Damiano, Ethan and the three kids were back from their excursion to a local pumpkin patch. You unplugged the curling iron, leaving it on the heat-resistant pad before easing yourself onto your feet. You collected the baby monitor before leaving the room, ready for the moment when Bowie awoke from his nap.

When you got downstairs you followed the voices of Ethan and Marsha, finding them in the family room. They were standing at the crafting table, which was currently dominated by the largest real-life pumpkin you had ever seen - it appeared to be three times the size of your head.

“You don’t think his name is Patrick?” He was asking of your daughter.

“No, that’s the name of the starfishies.” She replied, speaking as if this rule of hers was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right, well maybe this is a girl, a girl named Paula.”

She looked at the giant vegetable with her eyes narrowed, carefully studying it with this new information. Ultimately, she decided her dad was speaking the truth and nodded her head. “Paula the pumpkin.”

“That’s the most Paula-looking pumpkin I’ve ever seen.” You contributed your opinion as you walked closer to them.

“Hi Mama. Do you like the pumpkin Cosmo picked? I helped.” She said, perked up with pride.

“You guys did an amazing job.” You said. “You don’t need to keep that heavy jacket on now that you’re inside, Miss Thing.”

She fumbled with the combination of zipper and buttons on her winter coat. But she succeeded without assistance and pulled the garment off, handing it to you straight away.

“How about you go check if Papa needs any help making lunch?” Ethan suggested.

She left for the kitchen and you turned to look at your boyfriend, a displeased look on your face when you began to speak. “You got the smallest one they had, eh?”

“The kids picked it. What was I supposed to do- tell them that they picked wrong?” He asked.

“You’re supposed to redirect them.” You said. “Come on, we talked about this and we all agreed- no more pumpkins bigger than Moe. They’re gonna drive us nuts, asking every day for it to be moved around the veranda, or from the front veranda to the back, then the opposite.”

“I know, but you should have seen how excited he was, he was planning out all the cool things he would have space to add. I didn’t have the heart to stifle his creativity.” He said, clearly trying to win you over with his sweetness.

“You let my children run wild, Ethan.” You attempted to maintain your stern tone.

The expression on his face changed as he switched to the tactic of distracting you. “You smell like hairspray, have you been working on the wig again? I would love to see the progress.”

“Yeah, I bet you would.” You said sarcastically.

Before he could continue his facade, everything was interrupted by your son’s crying coming through the speaker you held. Bowie had woken up, providing Ethan with a great distraction.

He grabbed the baby monitor before you had a chance to react. “I’ve got him.” Swiftly he was disappearing out of the room and up the staircase.

You gave the large pumpkin another look. You were glad that this year you had an excuse to count you out of the three kids' consistent redecorating ideas. It got very tedious trying to keep up with them deciding, then re-evaluating the perfect spot for the heavy decoration.

By the time Ethan came into the kitchen with Bowie the toddler had stopped crying. You were sitting with the rest of your kids along the island, everyone enjoying their own serving of scrambled eggs. Damiano was making sure each child had the drink they wanted.

“He’s okay.” Ethan said of Bowie, who was looking around the room with bright eyes. “He just wanted us to know that he’s awake.” Ethan tapped him on his tiny nose.

The kids had been told that their crafting would begin once lunch was finished, prompting them to start asking as soon as Sylvia’s plate was cleared. They were made to wait until everybody was done, with Ethan the last one eating. He purposefully took smaller and slower bites, earning him theatrical groans from the three eldest.

Damiano took care of tidying up, leaving you and Ethan to get the various crafts prepared. For Cosmo’s pumpkin carving, Ethan laid some sheets from the newspaper onto the floor. The twins were easy to organise, they would be taking their textas to print-outs of pumpkins to be hung up in the windows. You picked out the pots of face-paint that had been purchased for you to help Bowie turn your pregnant belly into a festive pumpkin. You had some old towels on hand for the mess that was certainly coming your way.

He eagerly took one of the paintbrushes that you offered, once you were seated somewhat-comfortably on the floor. Your son turned away from you, uninterested in what you were doing at present. Wobbly steps took him over to where his siblings were gathered, around and on top of the newspaper in anticipation of Ethan bringing the pumpkin over.

“Hey Dada, what’s my star sign?” Cosmo asked, the horoscope section catching his eye.

Once Ethan answered this, the girls wanted to know theirs. This led to Ethan reading out the two horoscopes, which were peppered with words the kids didn’t understand, his explanations slowing the whole process down. Sylvia got bored first, leaving for the table where all of the colouring supplies were set up.

He and Cosmo were still drawing out their ideas on the pumpkin when Damiano came into the room. You were using a marker to create a guide for the painting on your skin while Bowie gave each of the brushes careful check-overs (some of the handles required a taste test). The twins were making the most progress, their markers quickly moving across the pages, their focus secured. Damiano checked that you didn’t need any assistance before stationing himself with the girls.

You wiped the handles of one of the brushes on the towel before dipping it into the orange paint. “Are you ready to paint, baby Bowie?”

He raised his brush into the air. “Pah.”

“Uh-huh.” You said. “You wanna help Mama paint this section, right here in the centre of her belly?”

He had a serious look on his face as he scooted closer to you, apparently ready to concentrate on the craft. You handed your brush to him and he took a long look at the thick orange liquid on the bristles. You feared that he would touch it to his face, or worse, try to eat it.

But he proved his skills, applying the bristles to the taut skin of your tummy. The paint felt slimy on your skin as he worked the brush up-and-down, seeming to understand that this was somewhat similar to when he painted at his baby easel. You were unbothered when some of his brush strokes partially went over your outline of an eye.

“Wow, that looks so good already.” You enthused.

He nodded his head as he accepted from you the alternate brush dipped in paint. “Good.”

He wasn’t the most gentle as he made contact with your skin, applying the paint over on your side. There was a method to how he worked, spreading the orange further across your tummy. There had been many attempts at trying to get him excited over the fact that you were growing a brand new baby in there. It was hard to tell how much he absorbed this information, but what you really cared about was that he was enjoying decorating your large belly.

“Okay, now push with your elbow until the blade of the knife goes all the way in.” Ethan instructed as he held his hand over Cosmo’s on the serrated knife.

Cosmo wore a look of great concentration, his brow furrowed as he sucked on his upper lip. He moved the knife carefully, pushing until more than the pointed tip disappeared into the real pumpkin. Ethan held the vegetable steady with his other hand as Cosmo kept working the knife in.

While colouring with the twins, Damiano had found a doll-sized cowboy hat. It was quite common to come across misplaced pieces of toys around your home, so he didn’t bother to question it. He balanced the tiny hat on the tip of his index finger, absentmindedly keeping it elevated.

This caught Bowie’s eye, taking his attention away from painting. He got to his feet and you had just enough time to take the messy brush off of him before he wandered away. He went directly over to his dad, reaching for his arm.

“Hey, little man.” Damiano enthusiastically greeted him.

“Hat.” Bowie said.

“Oh, is this yours?” Damiano asked, offering the small hat to him. “Are you a cowboy?” Damiano placed the miniature accessory atop Bowie’s head, towards the centre where it could be somewhat steady. Immediately he was giggling, not needing to see his reflection to find this funny. “It looks really terrific on you. It must be your hat because it suits you so well.”

Bowie whipped around to face you, the hat slipping off of his hair in the process. Damiano quickly remedied this, holding Bowie still with a hand on his shoulder until the hat was back in place.

#damithan is more real than the moon landing #damithan supremacy #rainbow family headcanons #avida would have this photo as her lockscreen

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