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#okay genuine commentary time
karizipan · 5 months
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can anyojen hear me PLEASEEEEE
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fungi-maestro · 9 months
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The Question #17 (1988)
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ifyouseekay468 · 2 years
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Seeing one star reviews of the required reading for a theology course which is conservative xtians calling it heresy and blasphemy >>>>
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edgelite · 4 months
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ilja dragunov selling is on another level
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donatellawritings · 2 months
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What about instead of rage giving the reader the silent treatment let’s switch the roles and instead the reader gives rage the silent treatmentt plsss
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you were being a chatty little princess. you couldn’t help how excited and giddy you were today — the sun was shining bright, the sky a pretty baby blue, the air smelled fresh and sweet, everything just seemed to have been going picture perfect for you. so, when rafe brought you along with him to the country club to catch up with kelce and topper, you were all smiles, to the point where your cherub cheeks and glossy lips ached from being so stretched. you sat prettily on rafe’s lap, even more bubbly than usual thanks to the pomegranate martini you’d been sipping on.
rafe’s hand mindlessly tapped against the side of your thigh as he spoke to topper about this new boat that he’d been eyeing, causing your doe eyes to widen as your lips parted, “oh my god, topper it’s so pretty and i told rafe that he should-” you cut in, oblivious to this being your fourth time interrupting rafe while he spoke to the guys. it wasn’t until rafe had finally corrected you that you realized your silly mistake.
“hey, y’gonna let me finish talkin’ to top, or are y’gonna keep on interrupting me?” rafe scolded, his voice cold and stern as he lightly grabbed your jaw, his bright blue eyes hanging low as he sent you a chilling warning look. a soft exhale left your nose as your eyes glazed over with threatening tears, with an obedient nod. now returning his attention to topper, rafe cleared his throat before continuing, “so, yeah m’probably gonna have it by next week — just waiting on my guy to have it all dolled up for me,” rafe sighed, ignoring the slight pang in his chest as you fiddled with your fingers and kept your gaze trained on your feet.
he could tell that you were trying your very best, not to cry.
you remained silent for the remainder of the day, only allowing yourself to extend a forced courteous smile to topper and kelce, once rafe decided it was time to go home. he didn’t miss the way you simply nodded or shook your head whenever the server asked you a question, or how you quickly wiped your eyes before a stream of tears could flow door your cheeks. could rafe do without your constant interjections? yes, but he had to admit that the conversation just wasn’t as engaging without your light and airy commentary.
so, rafe decided that he’d play all of your favorite songs, once you were comfortably seated in your passenger seat with your seatbelt fastened, his pink lips running dry as you remained blank of any emotion. reaching over the center console, rafe laying his hand right above your knee, squeezing the plush skin of your thigh, to get you to look at him, “hey, mama — y’doing okay?” he questions, quickly glancing over to you as you wordlessly nodded, your dolly eyes fluttering closed as rafe sighed in defeat, before bringing his hand back to the steering wheel. he had to admit that watching you leaning your head against the window to fall asleep, instead of his shoulder, stung him a little.
what gnawed at rafe the most, was that you weren’t being quiet as a punishment, you genuinely believed that rafe wanted you to stop talking, to the point where even he couldn’t get you to say a word to him. it’d been about four hours and he missed hearing you, he missed the way his name fell off of your tongue, the way your accent peaked with certain words, how you’d console him in spanish, but mostly, he missed hearing you call him ‘papi’.
it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, thanks to the two cocktails you’d drank earlier, leaving rafe overtly excited to take the chance to get you in his arms, the moment he parked his car, rushing to the passenger side as he scooped you into his arms, his forearm resting underneath the soft curve of your ass, while his free hand gently slid over your waist. a low whine left your swollen lips as you kept your head leaned against rafe’s shoulder, sighing sleepily as you allowed your boyfriend to carry you inside of tannyhill.
pressing a kiss to your cheek, rafe was quick to take a seat on the couch with you on his lap, he needed this silence to end, before he flipped the fuck out, “i don’t like that y’not talking to me, mama — m’about to lose my mind, not hearing my pretty girl,” rafe coos sweetly into your ear, pressing another kiss to your cheek as you sigh, leaning your head closer into his shoulder. “y’not in trouble, baby, i just wanted to finish talking to topper and i know you’re excited about the boat,” rafe squeezed your waist, beckoning for you to look at him — he needed to make sure that you knew that he still saw you as his sweet girl.
compliantly, you lifted your head, your sleepy doe eyes bright as met rafe’s unwavering gaze, a small huff leaving you as you parted your now barely-glossed lips, “i just didn’t want to annoy you, papi —” you began, rafe’s eyes softening as your sweet voice ran like warm honey in his ears. you innocently shifted yourself on his lap, your swollen lips just aching to be kissed by rafe’s, “i know i was just being too excited,” you sighed, ending your small ramble as rafe simply stared at you blankly, licking over his lips as he shamelessly ogled yours.
the second you cocked your head to the side in confusion, rafe’s mouth was on yours, enveloping you in a disgustingly sloppy, but needy kiss. a throaty moan left rafe’s throat as his hand slid up to the back of your neck, securely holding your face against his as he messily licked into your mouth, spit smearing across your chin as you struggled to catch your breath, “papi, wait — i can’t breathe,” you giggled, your words instantly swallowed by rafe’s mouth as his tongue mushed slush against yours, the two of you whimpering with greed as rafe leaned forward, with you still clinging onto his lap, his shiny, spit-covered lips trailing down to your prettily pushed-up breasts.
“missed hearing y’fuckin’ voice, mama,” rafe mumbled, his voice broken and hoarse as you smiled cheesily, beaming with the fact that rafe missed you.
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delphi-shield · 4 months
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OLD FOLKS HOME ↪ age gap hcs
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the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.
Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle. 
It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event. 
He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo. 
Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.
Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.
”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”
At least you get movie dates out of it.
Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.
I'm so, so sorry about this. 🤪 is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.
Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.
Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.
Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.
Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?
Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.
He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'
Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.
Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.
She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.
Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.
And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.
If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.
Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.
Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.
Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."
Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.
Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.
Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.
Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)
Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.
Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?
Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.
Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst. 
Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”
Unironically sent you a minion meme once.
It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.
If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!
If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.
Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.
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Free Ride
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Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: T •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •
Summary: Your taxi driver is surprisingly familiar.
🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜
A/N: Set in London, Jake is driving a black cab in my mind for some reason.
Warnings: Jake being mistaken for Steven, kisses, awkward silences, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 1161
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You got into the cab quickly, the cold night air raking its nails over your skin. You pulled your coat a little higher and shivered. 
The bar crawl hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Two of your friends had had to check out early, and a third had hooked up with someone they’d met while getting a round. You’d decided to call it a night.  
“Hi,” you greeted the driver, about to give your address when you pause in surprise. “Steven?” 
Jake freezes, watching your reflection in the rear view mirror. 
“Steven Grant, you, you live on the floor above me.” You smile. “I didn’t realise you drove a cab?” 
He swallows, raising his chin up in a nod, his mind racing. He’d left it far too long to deny it. “I… just, part time.” He spoke quietly, adding a croak to his voice to disguise the difference in accent. 
“You okay?”
“Yeah… cold.” He tapped his throat, “so, erm, home?”
You nod, “yeah. Sorry you’re unwell, hope you feel better soon.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing.” 
You nod again, something about the energy in the cab seemed… odd. Different. You were on pretty good terms with Steven since he’d helped you out when you were lugging your shelves up the stairs (they were too wide for the lift.) You chatted when you ran into each other going out or coming back. Somehow you both usually ended up going to the local sainsbury’s at the same time for your weekly shop and had kind of settled into a not exactly planned routine where you would wait for each other and do it together. 
Steven talked. A lot. In the best way possible. Excitedly and passionately. Bubbly and enthusiastic. He genuinely listened as well, asking follow up questions and nodding. But even when he was listening, he wasn’t quiet. Always adding in ‘hmms’ and ‘oh right’, and little snippets of commentary that warmed your heart. 
Now he was quiet. Pulled in and zipped up. 
Maybe it was just the cold making his throat hurt. You’d have to get him something to help, maybe tomorrow you could knock on with some ginger, lemon, and honey tea. 
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
You stilt your head to the side as you watch him drive. He takes a turn smoothly, travelling down the late night roads without as much as a pause. Or a word. 
It just didn’t make sense. 
How unlike Steven he was being. You pause, for a second entertaining the idea that he wasn’t actually him. But that made no sense did it? He’d have to be an identical twin, and besides, he was talking you back to your flat. If he wasn't Steven, how would he know where you lived? 
“I didn’t know you could drive?” You say, speaking up a little to try to hide the spike of nervousness that had settled in your gut. You had been so sure that he’d told you he couldn’t… though had that just been an excuse? A reason to tag along with you when you went food shopping? Was his quietness now embarrassment from being caught out? 
“Hmm,” he nodded, glancing back at you again in the rear view mirror. “I don’t mention it… much.” 
You nod. “Yeah.” You pick at your fingernails as he drums his hands against the steering wheel, waiting for the light to change. 
The silence stretches out, almost blanketing the low grumble of the engine. It’s sickening. Nerve wrecking. 
“How’s work?” You blurt out, and then quickly clarify. “Both I mean, how’s driving going today and how’s the museum?” He glances back at you again, the action is starting to remind you of a priest in a confessional. 
“It’s all… normal.”
“Normal?” 
“Fine. Normal.”
You don’t speak again until he pulls up by the block of flats, putting on the handbrake and getting into neutral. He puts his hands on his lap, folded neatly with his palms facing upwards.
“How much do I owe you?” You ask.
“Nothing.” 
“What?” 
“Nothing. It’s on me.” 
“Stev-”
He turns quickly, flicking off his seatbelt in a practised move so that he can twist his body fully around to face you. 
For a moment you think he’s going to say something, reveal some grand secret but instead he pauses before giving you a very weak smile.
“It’s on me.” His voice is quiet, barely there at all. And, for the briefest second you could have sworn that his accent was different. 
“Thank you.” 
He shrugs politely, dismissing it as if it was nothing. 
Before he can turn away you reach out for his shoulder, the action instinctive and leaving you lost for a reason why you did it.  
He glances at your hand for a second before looking back to your face. 
You lean forward. “Thank you.” You repeat softly, and slowly kiss his left cheek, giving him plenty of time to pull away and rebuff you if he wanted to. 
Instead he leans slightly into the touch, swallowing and turning his head towards you. His nose brushes against yours and you think he’s going to turn back to facing the wheel, but instead he presses his lips to yours hesitantly. 
You squeeze his arm, surprised but responsive as you kiss him back. 
He kisses you slowly, but intentionally. Swiping the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip before opening your mouth with his own and licking inside. He groans, low in his chest as the kiss becomes hungrier, boarding on desperation as he presses as close to you as he physically can in his position. 
When suddenly he pulls back, blinking heavily. A mumbled, ‘sorry’, just escaping his lips. 
“It’s okay.” Your voice is quiet too, your mind only just catching up with what happened. 
He turns back, putting his seatbelt on with a click and staring straight ahead. “Have a good night.” 
“I, erm, I’ll see you later.” You mutter as you get out, feeling almost shaky from what just happened. Your thoughts reeling. 
You get up to your flat in a daze. You’d kissed him, well, he’d kissed you. Did that mean anything? Had you done something to chase him off? 
You change into your pyjamas and brush your teeth, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. 
There’s a soft knock at your front door and you freeze. Wait. 
Maybe it’s a neighbor's door. Maybe it’s noise from another flat.
There’s a knock again, still soft and your phone buzzes. A message from Steven, ‘can we talk?’ 
Fuck. 
You head to the door, checking the peep hole and confirming that yes, it is Steven outside your door. You unlock and open it quickly. 
“Steven, I-”
You don’t get a chance to finish your sentence before he moves forward quickly and kisses you deeply. His hands settle on your hip, the back of your neck as he walks you further inside and kicks the door shut with the heel of his foot. 
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Thank you for reading!
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houseswife · 4 months
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obsessed with the way that, every time wilson tries to break up with house, it just becomes increasingly obvious why he never could. because. listen. there are plenty of valid reasons why he’d cut house off. dozens. but whenever he provides an explaination for ending their friendship, it’s always the most objectively untrue thing you’ve ever heard, which makes it extremely fucking clear that his ass is just making shit up on the spot. e.g he could say “You take me for granted/you take advantage of my loyalty/you don’t respect my boundaries” and they would all be justified reasons for dumping him. but wilson’s so deluded by his love for house that he doesn’t even acknowledge the reasonable grounds for wanting him out of his life. he doesn’t actually have a problem with the genuinely insane and/or criminal shit that house does; he enjoys it!! that’s why he has to formulate these lost explainations (that are laughable in their falsity, by the way) to keep up appearances, to maintain the impression of outrage. like when he says “The thing is, house, I don’t like you” … my brother… you literally spent every waking moment of your free time hanging out with him for 20 years! but okay. “I’m not doing this because I care” (implying that he doesn’t gaf about the man he consistently prioritised everything in his life over). “I don’t think we ever were [friends]” - does that one even need commentary. he needs to be so fr because babygirl ain’t NOBODY convinced!!
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herrscherofinsanity · 4 months
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Love's Compass
Summary: As usual, wherever you go Jimin is sure to follow, but this time around it is obvious that she cares about you as you explore a new city together.
Fluff
Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem!reader
Word count: 1.2k
This are the same Jimin and y/n from Yours Truly by the way.
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_____________________
The morning sun bathed the unfamiliar city in a golden glow as you and your manager, Jimin, stepped out of your hotel. The anticipation of exploring a new country fueled your excitement, and you couldn't resist the urge to document every moment. Armed with a camera and a vibrant personality, you decided to vlog your entire adventure.
"Good morning, beautiful people!" you addressed the camera with a radiant smile, your free hand gesturing towards the bustling streets behind you. "Today, we're exploring the enchanting city of Barcelona, and I've got the best companion with me." You turned the camera to Jimin, who responded with a playful wave.
Jimin chuckled, "She dragged me into this, but I'm ready for whatever chaos she has planned."
“Oh please, you wouldn’t last a day without me” you teased your manager.
“It’s literally my job to make sure you don’t get into trouble or cause a scandal” Jimin smirked at the camera before walking ahead of you.
Your first stop was a bustling market, where vibrant stalls displayed an array of colorful fruits, handmade crafts, and local delicacies. You couldn't contain your excitement, pointing the camera towards a particularly enticing food stand.
"Look at this, everyone! We've got Barcelona's specialty right here. Jimin, are you ready to try some?"
Jimin, eyeing the unfamiliar dish with a mix of curiosity and caution, nodded. "Alright, let's do it. But if I regret this, it's on you, y/n."
You shared a few laughs and exchanged playful banter as you sampled the local cuisine. The camera captured Jimin's genuine reactions, from the hesitant first bite to the delighted surprise after realizing how delicious it was.
The vlog continued as you kept wandering through vibrant markets, sampled local delicacies, and marveled at architectural wonders. Your commentary provided a blend of information and humor, making the audience feel like they were right there with the two of you.
"Okay, everyone, we just stumbled upon the most charming little café," you exclaimed, the camera now focused on a quaint establishment. "Let's go in and try some authentic Barcelona coffee!"
As you sat in the cozy café, sipping on rich coffee, you couldn't help but capture the candid moments between you and your manager. The laughter, the shared glances, and the easy camaraderie spoke volumes about your connection. Even though you hadn’t explicitly said you were in a relationship with Jimin, it was obvious to anyone who looked at you for more than two seconds. You weren’t going to hide how much you loved the other girl, it was just a bonus that your fans were always pushing you for more romantic content.
"Isn't this place just magical?" you asked, turning the camera towards the decor. "And speaking of magic, let me introduce you to my favorite travel companion, Jimin!"
Jimin chuckled, playing along with your enthusiasm. "Hello, world! I'm just here for the coffee and the chaotic vlogging sessions."
The day unfolded with visits to historical landmarks, encounters with friendly locals, and impromptu dance-offs in the city squares. Your vlog showcased not only the beauty of the destination but also the genuine bond between you and your manager.
As you strolled through narrow streets lined with historic buildings, you couldn't help but marvel at the architecture. The camera, now capturing the surroundings, shifted to Jimin.
"Jimin, what do you think of this place?"
Jimin looked around, taking in the sights. "It's amazing. I never thought I'd get to see such beautiful places. Thanks for bringing me along, Y/N."
You smiled, "Anytime, Jimin. This is as much your adventure as it is mine." Jimin returned your warm smile and quickly turned the other way; however, you didn’t miss the way a blush spread across her cheeks.
_-_-_-_-_-_
As the day transitioned into the enchanting hues of the evening, you found yourselves on a charming rooftop overlooking the city. The soft glow of city lights illuminated the skyline, creating a magical atmosphere.
As you were setting up the camera for another shot, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Jimin. "You know, Jimin, this view is breathtaking, but I think there's something even more beautiful right here." You turned the camera towards Jimin, who raised an eyebrow in playful skepticism.
"Are you getting cheesy on your vlog, y/n?"
You chuckled, lowering the camera. "Maybe a little. But seriously, Jimin, this city is incredible, and sharing it with you makes it even more special."
Jimin's gaze softened, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. "I feel the same way, y/n. This trip... it's been amazing. And being with you, exploring all these places, it's like a dream."
Seizing the moment, you set the camera aside and stepped closer to Jimin. "You know, there's something I haven't vlogged about yet." You reached into your bag and pulled out a small, intricately wrapped box.
Jimin's eyes widened with curiosity. "What's this?"
"A little something I got for you," you said in a sing-song tone, handing the box to Jimin.
Jimin carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a compass. You smiled softly at her, "It's a reminder that no matter where we go, as long as we're together, we'll find our way."
Jimin's eyes sparkled with gratitude as she examined the gift. "y/n, it's beautiful. Thank you."
You took the necklace and gently placed it around Jimin's neck. Your fingers brushed against each other, sending a subtle electric pulse through both of you. Your gaze lingered on Jimin's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that had grown between the two of you.
Jimin, her fingers tracing the pendant, met your gaze. "This is perfect, y/n. I... I never want this trip to end."
Feeling a surge of warmth, you cupped Jimin's face with your hands, softly caressing her cheek with your thumb. "It doesn't have to. Every day with you feels like an adventure, Jimin."
And in that rooftop sanctuary, surrounded by the city's whispers and the promise of countless tomorrows, you and your girlfriend shared a quiet moment that spoke volumes. The city below faded into the background as you leaned in, your lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss—a kiss that held the essence of the love that had blossomed amidst the exploration of new places and shared dreams.
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the cityscape, you took a moment to reflect on the day's adventures. You turned the camera towards yourself, the city lights shimmering in the background.
"Alright, everyone, it's been an incredible day exploring Barcelona with my favorite person in the world. I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings! Until then, sending you lots of love and positive vibes. Don't forget to like, subscribe, and hit that notification bell for more adventures!" you smiled brightly at the camera, Jimin simply waving goodbye with a soft grin.
The vlog concluded with a montage of your day, set to a cheerful soundtrack. You turned off the camera, feeling a sense of fulfillment in capturing these precious moments. Jimin leaned over, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek.
Jimin grinned. "No, thank you for bringing me along on this crazy adventure. I wouldn't want to explore the world with anyone else."
"Thanks for making today unforgettable," you whispered, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.
And as you stepped into the night, hand in hand, the city continued to unfold its wonders, echoing the magic of your journey together.
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A/N: Yours Truly is probably my favorite work I've done, so I decided to explore it a bit more. I might end up doing this again some other time. Thank you for reading!
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loveinhawkins · 9 months
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kept thinking about Eddie & Steve deliberately making jokes to ensure that Dustin and co don’t get into the boat on Lover’s Lake.
“Nicely done,” Steve says when they’re far enough away from the bank—when they’ve left a disgruntled Dustin behind rather than a worried one.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Eddie says—glances back to where the kids are, although they’ve already got swallowed up by the darkness. “‘Course, man.” He gives a weak smile as he drags the oar through the water. “Those little shrimps would probably try and, like, cannonball right in, and honestly? I, uh, really don’t think my heart could handle that.”
“Yeah, they… really throw themselves into things.”
Steve decides that he’s never gonna bring up Operation Child Endangerment if Eddie’s in the vicinity—the dude already looks at them all like they’ve got a few screws loose, he doesn’t wanna make it worse.
Although, on second thought, him and Dustin probably let that particular cat out the bag with their persistent optimism way back in the boathouse: “There’s nothing to worry about.”
Eddie’s wide-eyed look painted a thousand words.
Oh, he thinks you’re crazy, sing-songed the perpetual high schooler hiding in Steve’s brain. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson thinks you’re crazy. Time to seriously re-evaluate your life choices.
“Did you think Eddie was a bit, uh, weird back there?” Dustin asked him later. “Like, he’ll be okay, right?”
Dustin was prone to using ‘weird’ as a catch-all term, where it could mean anything from someone being genuinely weird to them experiencing severe emotional distress.
Steve clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Henderson, I’m pretty sure he thinks we’re weird.”
He almost wants to make a joke about that now, get Eddie to laugh, maybe. To tell the truth, Steve had almost cracked and laughed himself once he’d gotten into the boat, when he turned and saw Dustin’s comically outraged expression.
It was only as Nancy and Eddie began to row that he registered the laugh would’ve secretly been one of relief—heartened by the sight of the kids left on the shore.
He stays quiet; Eddie’s shoulders are slowly tensing more and more the further across the lake they go.
It’s not noticeable at first—Robin’s providing a running commentary on the movements of Dustin’s compass, while Nancy determinedly pulls her oar in and out of the water—but Steve soon realises that Eddie’s kind of stopped rowing, instead just making ripples as his grip goes slack.
It’s damn hard to see, but Steve just barely makes out Eddie’s eyes glittering in the dark, staring down at the lake.
“Hey,” Steve says quietly. “You don’t have to—we’re not too far out, we can take you back, man.” He tries for levity. “This thing holds three people tops, remember?”
Eddie’s smile is more of a grimace. “Nah, man. Had enough of being chickenshit.”
“Dude, you’re not…”
Steve trails off, biting back his frustration—it doesn’t look like Eddie’s listening to him anyway; he’s still not taken his eyes off the water. Steve briefly wonders if he’s got that thing Robin says she gets sometimes, something about an imp—it’s why she never gets on Ferris wheels or whatever, convinced that she’s somehow gonna fall.
Eddie gives himself a shake and resumes rowing.
“Sorry. S’just… pitch black down there. He—” Eddie clears his throat. “He wouldn’t have seen—”
His voice cracks, fades into the night. His grip on the oar slips—he snatches it back before it can fall.
“Eddie,” Steve begins, but Eddie speaks right over the top of him.
“I—I hoped he was just drowning instead.” Eddie scoffs, and there’s a bitterness to it, an edge of self-loathing that Steve wishes he couldn’t hear. “And then maybe—” A sigh, another grimace disguised as a smile. “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to think, huh?”
He’s got that tone, Steve thinks, like when he kept repeating that he ran away from Chrissy—like he thought that if he said it enough, someone would snap, condemn him. Like he’s looking for proof that he’s monstrous.
Robin’s still talking, tactfully giving Eddie a semblance of privacy. Underneath her chatter, Steve hears Nancy’s rowing falter for just a moment, and he feels a pang in his chest.
He thinks of Barb and drowning. Wonders again if an ordinary tragedy would’ve been better compared to…
Then he lets it all sink back down.
“That’s not fucked up,” he says firmly. “Trust me, dude, that’s… that’s normal.”
Eddie chuckles shortly—it sounds like he’s doing something similar, pushing everything down, down…
“Normal, huh? No-one’s called me that before.”
“First time for everything.”
There’s a flicker of amusement across Eddie’s face when he replies, “Guess compared to you freaks, I’m pretty normal.”
“Ooh, did that feel good?” Steve says, appealing again to his mental high schooler. “Bit of role reversal?”
Eddie laughs more genuinely. “Sure did. Community theatre’s done wonders.”
A silence falls, and Steve encourages himself to get all relaxed by the boat bobbing up and down. Yeah, nothing’s strictly been confirmed yet, but he already knew what he was getting into when he stepped off the shore, water leaking into his shoes.
It’s gotta be him.
“I know what you’re doing, Harrington,” Eddie murmurs.
Steve gives him a questioning look.
Eddie pulls in some long breaths in exaggerated imitation. “You’re not subtle, Mister Swim Captain.”
“Co-captain,” Steve corrects, hiding his surprise. He can’t really imagine Eddie paying attention to the swim team, least of all a former swim team.
“Oh, forgive me for my inaccuracy.”
Hmm, he’s getting borderline poetic, Steve thinks. Like he was with Mordor and stuff.
So. He’s afraid.
“I’ll be fine,” Steve says lightly.
Eddie lets out a short groan, mutters something that sounds like famous last words. Then, quieter still—Steve can’t quite make it out.
Something about the dark.
Steve could repeat that he’ll be fine, but he knows that’s a shit reassurance. He settles for continuing to breathe in and out, long and slow; Eddie’s beginning to look like he’s unconsciously mimicking the pattern, his shoulders lowering.
“Just come back up, Harrington,” he says, so softly that Steve might’ve imagined it.
“Co-captain’s promise,” he says.
Eddie’s lips twitch. But he’s still fixed on the lake’s depths, like he’s waiting for something—dreading it.
Like something’s lurking in the dark.
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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 months
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sfw alphabet ft. roronoa zoro! (because im down bad for him)
enough horniness, now we shall weep and cry cause of how much we love this moss head 🤭🤭
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yes ur honor this is the man im in love with :/
💗affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?):
affection (in it's traditional sense) comes hard to zoro. he doesn't really know how to go about it to be very honest. to him affection is sarcasm and acts of services ("acts of service" include calling you mid in 5 languages (joke), making fun of your exercise form and the way you sometimes drool in your sleep, offering you sake etc.). but as time passes by and you both start getting more comfortable with each other, he gets on board with it. every time you both are spending time alone, he holds onto you one way or the other. don't expect him to call you sugarcakes or something because he won't but he will let you know before drifting off to sleep that you mean the world to him. i dont think hes a huge pda guy but if he's super drunk then he cannot possibly keep his hands off of you, its quite weird for the crew to see him so openly affectionate (cue sanji gagging).
💗best friend:
what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start? he's lowkey the bestest of best friends. he has the energy of "idk what you're doing but ig do it anyways cause i know how to fight" an opinion on everything but he doesn't have the time or energy to say anything (between his sleeping and training). doesn't mean he's any less nonchalant, no, he's just super opinionated for some reason. so, when you're sitting next to him on the deck on those late nights, asking him absurd questions, best believe he will deliver peak (nonchalant) commentary. especially after the two years when he's back from living with perona!!! HE IS A CERTIFIED FASHION KING. "zoro," you nudge him and he hums in response, "i was thinking of getting nami that silver bracelet for her birthday, should i?" "i mean i wouldn't give that debt collecting witch anything but-" he winces lightly when you punch him in the arm, "-but. i think silver will look look washed out against his complexion. gold seems better" "you think?"
💗cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?):
at the start, he thinks cuddles are lowkey dumb (and like he probably has gone years without them), so, he puts up this weird drama like "uh no i dont wanna do it" ofc he's lying. cause you're so soft and you smell so good and his hands are literally shaking trying not to hold you against him. after a while, he will unironically announce to you that he is the little spoon tonight and you need to suck it up. (lowkey gives the best cuddles because he literally envelopes you whole till you have to physically push him away) he wants to cuddle but you're DYING. YOU JUST KNOW YOU ARE. because this man is a heat radiating hot heating device heater. he is like a portable sauna. he needs to give you some space but he wont.
💗domestic (how are they at cooking and cleaning?):
cooking? cleaning? you should be grateful that he's showering everyday ever since you started dating him. he knows some basic cooking and cleaning skills (cause he did survive on his own for a good few years) but he doesn't know them in a socially acceptable manner. he just caught a fish, burnt it and ate it cause ✨proteins✨ okay? it's not like he does it on purpose, it's just that he's too focused on training and getting better and you have a chef so, he doesn't have to bother too much about it. but if you both were living together, then i think he will obviously learn them cause he doesn't want you to be the only responsible one cleaning after his messes. and he actually has kinda started liking cooking cause it's relaxing (he's also good at chopping up veggies and stuff so you both can cook together). the only part of cooking he hates is when sanji starts giving him tips cause like genuinely, sanji mind your own fucking business okay he'd learn pasta himself. tldr; the first time you teach him these things, he makes a mess and almost burns down your house but afterwards, you can rely on him to get the things done semi-nicely.
💗ending:
if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it? i think if zoro had to breakup with someone it will probably be over focusing on his dreams of being the best swordsman or if you cheated on him or broke his trust. i don't think he will pursue a relationship with someone if he didn't see it lasting, so, he won't break-up for petty reasons (nor do i think he will ever cheat). i also think he's a practical man. he won't try to sugarcoat or make you false promises. he sure as fuck won't tell you that you both can "still be friends" or some shit (i mean unless you're in the same crew then it kinda goes without saying). he'll probably ask you to come have a chat with him. sit you down and tell you directly and exactly why he is doing it. and he absolutely won't let you have any residual doubts if you "weren't enough" for him or so. just because he has to make this decision doesn't mean he doesn't love or respect you. so, even tho he won't ask you to be friends, if you ever need someone to rely on, he will be there for you. bottom line, he will still be a friend to you (though prepare to ignore each other for a long time after the breakup cause obviously it hurts and you might punch him)
💗fiance(e):
how do they feel about commitment? seeing as his character is super ride or die, he definitely doesn't have a problem recognizing how much you mean to him. but he is pretty emotionally constipated, so, he will take an eternity to actually accept how much you mean to him in a non-friendly manner. how quick would they want to get married? settling down??? no. he's not settling down. not until he's the best swordsman atleast. marriage is lowkey scary to him cause he didn't grow up with healthily functioning relationships to look upto but once he started dating you, he could see it potentially being a "forever" sort of a thing. he's probably not gonna say that out loud tho, thats a topic reserved only for wayward day-dreams or super drunken nights. so, as for the marriage thing he'd want to take his time. he would probably choose to achieve his own goals (and support you to reach yours) and then, think about settling down.
💗gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):
physically: zoro is acutely aware of his super-human strength but it still comes as a shocker to him to see how fragile, almost dainty you are in compare to him. simple things like comparing hand sizes or how large his t-shirt looks on you when you wear it to sleep genuinely leave him awestruck (and slightly lovesick). so, he makes it his number one priority to always be gentle to you, as if he's scared that you're on the cusp of breaking. and he treats you as such always. (unless you ask with tear-lidden eyes and trembling lips how badly you want him to demolish you because then, maybe he is ready to comply) emotionally: like almost everything else, gentle words come hard to him at the start. all he has known is tough love. so, understanding that making fun of you when you're having your weekly breakdown was the wrong choice took him a while. he's not like emotionally stunted but he still doesn't trust his choice of words to comfort you. rather, he lets the way he holds you against him and pets your head when you sob against his chest do the talking. but if you go out of your way to teach him what he should probably say when you're sad then he might have some luck with it. until then, enjoy the cuddles.
💗hugs:
do they like hugs? after starting to date you, this man realized he loves hugs. and he loves giving hugs. but he's incredibly selective and thus far the only two (2) candidates have been allowed to pass through his tedious selection process. that being you and chopper (both of you are in a binding contract so you cant tell anyone about it either). well, luffy too if you count how clingy he can get 👍🏼 how often do they do it? he does hug you atleast once a day even if it as subtle as holding you from the back, resting his head on your shoulder. what are their hugs like? his hugs are genuinely bear hugs. okay. like he will engulf you and you will stand back and allow it to happen. he doesn't really hold on too long tho, so usually you gotta pull him back towards yourself and hug him tighter when you want it to last longer. pulling him towards yourself usually ends with him smiling and pressing a chaste kiss on your temple as his hands snake around you yet again.
💗"I love you" (how fast do they say the L-word?):
i think he says it fairly sooner than you anticipate. like however long you think he will take, it takes significantly lesser time. this is because (as i said), he probably spent a long time in denial and then in pining, so, naturally by the time you got together, he was sure of his feelings for you. anyways, one of my first fics on this blog was of how zoro probably said "i love you" to you when he was drunk and forgot about it when he woke up the next day. i still stand by that. i think it was a genuine, drunken confession but when you shyly confronted him about it, he just replied, "yeah, i meant that. i love you." his words were nonchalant but you could notice the dusted pink of his cheeks when he admits it and then his unsure gaze as he looks over your face and then the ground. (truth is, he only acted nonchalant. internally he is ready to jump off the ship incase you didn't say it back. thank god you said it back.)
💗jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?):
omg this man is simultaneously the most secure and the most jealous whore in this world. does he know you're not gonna cheat on him and ignore practically any man throwing himself on you? yeah, he knows that. but does he also want to cut off all those guys' heads if they even look at you? kinda, yes. i think he gets really shy to admit he's jealous. like he'd blame his irritable temper on the weather or the fact that he got less sleep last night. but you did notice how he clenched his jaw when a random guy in the market had been ogling you. and so, you tease him relentlessly. "zoro," you laugh, poking him in the chest accusingly, "are you sure? i think there might be something else going on" "like what?" he huffs, "i just got less sleep last night." "babe are you like jealous?" "no-" "you totally are" "stop saying that" "jealoussss" as to how does he deal with it? he fucks you. quick 'n easy. (im so sorry if youre a minor and reading this, in that case he pillow fights you to death.)
💗kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?):
what are their kisses like: after a long day, he always unwinds with you. so, his kisses are usually slow. he relishes in the way your lips feels against his, the way your cheeks feel like under his palm and the way you smile at him when you pull away. there's no haste because he has you right there and you both know you're not going anywhere. but on those nights he's pent up, anger and frustration strewn across his veins, he chooses to kiss you till he forgets just what he was angry about. his kiss-bitten lips are hot against yours, his hand roughly kneading your waist as he pours his anger into your desperate kisses. where does he like to kiss you: in public, his favourite spots are definitely your cheek or your temple as they are relatively tame pda tactics but still gets the point across. he gets to show his affection towards you without making a huge show for it. he also loves kissing on your shoulder as he rests his head on your shoulder and holds onto you. he can feel your pulse under his dull, soft kisses and heard your breathy hums and moans.
💗ittle ones (how are they around children?):
well, i hate kids. so, im gonna be biased. okay i don't hate kids but i hate toddlers. fucking devil spawns. i truly believe they will sacrifice us all for the beginning of the dark ages. anyways, zoro's not great with kids in theory. but somehow, when he interacts with kids he does end up somehow being a good (annoyed) dad figure (remember when he fathered three kids? cause i do)
💗mornings (how are mornings spent with them?):
morning with this green-haired ass start with you pushing his heavy arm off of you. you mumble that you're hot, trying to turn away from him and into the cool sheet. but it's no use because he just traps you against him yet again. zoro definitely doesn't give morning person vibes so i believe you are up before he is. you run you fingers softly against his scalp, bringing down your drumming fingers to his bare shoulders. you press an innocent kiss to his forehead and smile when he leans into your faint touches. when he finally wakes up, he looks up at you through sleepy eyes. he greets you with a tired "morning" before closing his eyes and draping himself you again. "zoro" you whisper half-heartedly, "everyone else is up, come on, we should get up too" he mumbles into your skin, "they weren't the ones keeping a watch last night, were they? come on, 10 more mins." "zo-" "please" he looks up at you, flashing you a soft smile, "10 mins." "10 mins only, okay? then we get up" (well, 10? more like 2 mins. luffy started yelling about breakfast and tried to eat before the food was served. and so, sanji (naturally) kicked him to near-death, so, you both had to wake up)
💗night (how are nights spent with them?):
walking out of the shower, you dry yourself off before cladding yourself in your pajamas. your limbs feel tired, body devoid of any and all energy as you climb into your bed to relax. sometimes you read, other times you just stare at the ceilings and think about stuff (we've all been there). zoro usually slips into the room silently, closing the door behind him. he plops down next to you and you curl up against him. sometimes, you both exchange small talk, if something fun happened while the other person wasn't around or gossip you heard from nami and ussop. but most days, you both simply enjoy the silence in each other's company till you're ready to fall asleep. every once in a while, he slips into the shower with you. (keeping this kids friendly) he gently washes your scalp and you rest your bare back against his chest as you ease yourself into the warm water. you return the favor by giving him a back massage. after this youre both so tired that you immediately pass the fuck out.
💗open:
when would they start revealing things about themselves: i feel like he'd know a lot about you before you find out anything important about him. he wears his loyalty and his dreams on his arms, but you don't find out why his dreams are so important or why he is so fidgety around tashigi until you're a good few days into dating. other small things about him are revealed to you thru his actions as he never mentions them, so, be prepared to be a persistent observer. do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly: he always reveals himself in little ways, never revealing too much. not because he doesn't trust you but because he's never had to talk about anything like this out loud. but anytime he does end up telling you something, it ends up being a heart to heart conversation. also, since he does get very drunk very often canonically, i don't think he's the type to slip up and tell things only cause he's not in the right headspace. so i imagine he only tells you things sober and in solitude, further cementing his trust in you.
💗patience (how easily angered are they?):
in moments of actual anger, as a swordsman, zoro is pretty good while handling his emotions. he knows how to differentiate between irrational feelings and actual solutions needed to get to the bottom of something. so, even when he gets mad he wouldn't necessarily act on it unless and until it is truly something that makes him tick. and things that make him tick includes people talking/doing something wrong to you or anyone in the crew, in that case he's going god mode. that being said, he will get easily irritated if someone is just joking around in the crew (especially sanji). he's incredibly patient with you tho, so, don't even worry about it and just accept him dumb antics for what they are.
💗quizzes:
 how much would they remember about you? i see yall sleeping on my man and i hate it. yes, hes kind of an idiot and not the best with memory but if it's anything about you or your relationship?? best believe he knows everything like the back of his hand. but he only claims that kind of power when it comes to you cause he will not really bother to remember other stuff if its not important. do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything? even though he wouldn't outright keep saying he remembers, he will often mention it in passing. like if you bring up someone while recounting a story to him, he will probably remember the last time you mentioned that guy. that being said, his memory is still kinda ass. so, he sometimes mixes things up if they aren't that relevant to the plot. so forgive him okay? hes trying
💗remember:
 what is their favorite moment in your relationship? i def feel like zoro prefers the mundane moments with you over any extravagant things. living on sea is insane, it's one thing after the other so knowing he has you to himself even for a few hours and in those hours, he gets to do nothing but love you truly means a lot to him. he isn't a cook by any means but this one time, when the rest of the crew had gotten off at a new island to restock and had only left you and him to keep guard, you had suggested you wanted to bake a cake. "i don't know how to cook" he mumbled softly, trying to convince you otherwise, "i can only do some cutting, slashing yk" "you dont even have to do anything!! just sit there and look pretty, i can do the baking." he eventually caved in. but now the memory of you making batter while he sat on the counter, talking to you is etched onto his every nerve. there had been a little bit of flour on your eyebrow and he used his thumb to clean it away before pulling you towards him and kissing you hard. you looked up at him, "i love you" "i love you too"
💗security:
how protective are they? i feel like zoro isn't as territorially protective as one would assume. like i said in the best friend section, he is more a laid-back "i know how to kill and get rid of the body, do whatever you want" kind of a vibe. that doesn't mean that he isn't gonna be on the verge of pulling out his swords the second someone even utters a word against you (but usually his dirty looks get the job done before he even pulls out the swords) how would they protect you? slash slash, stab stab and cocky remarks at the opponent (sometimes pure, unfiltered rage) how would they like to be protected? he's the roronoa zoro, he doesn't need physical protection. that being said, he wouldn't admit it out loud but just because he doesn't need you to pull out a gun to save him doesn't mean it doesn't give him pesky, little butterflies in his stomach whenever you defend him with your words. even if its something as small as calling out someone else's jokes that were targeted at him (and were just straight up offensive). or getting into actual verbal altercations (it happened once when you were drunk)
💗try: 
how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks? not a lot, tbh. look hes tired, you're tired, just cuddle and sleep okay? that being said he does put decent amount of efforts to surprise you every once in a while. he doesn't put on an extravagant show, so, mostly his surprises are just kinda lowkey and sweet. so on your anniversary, maybe he'd finally get the stick out of his ass and accept nami's idea of booking you a table somewhere expensive. but the memorable part isn't that, the memorable part is him asking (almost) shyly if you just wanna walk around town after dinner while he holds your hand and you bitch about your crew (in a loving manner).
💗ugly:
what would be some bad habits of theirs? omg obviously the drinking!!! i know he has high tolerance and shit but bro your liver's practically CRYING RN. please introduce yourself to some healthier coping mechanisms other than drinking and going stabby-stab. i also do think he's egoistic (it lessens with time) but its still a pain in the start
💗vanity:
 how concerned are they with their looks? this man does not give two fucks about his looks, like legit couldn't care less. he does know he looks decent tho (i mean casting mackenyu was a choice, i see you oda sensei). but ever since dating you, he has been putting in little efforts. i think partially cause you bully him into having a skincare routine and showering daily and partially cause he just wants to be a pretty boyfriend to his favourite girl.
💗whole: 
would they feel incomplete without you? yes and no. this is conflicting cause on one hand, ofcourse your absence will be equivalent to having daggers through his heart. but also, he seems like the guy who hyper-focuses on themselves after a breakup. i don't think he'd feel "incomplete" without you if you both ever broke up cause however dumb he is, he knows sometimes things don't work out and that's that. besides, even if you have to go, he still have people (the crew) to love and care for. but he would feel that glaring absence and it'll take a way heavier toll than anyone anticipated (cue him blasting heavy metal in his room and face-timing perona drunk and (almost) crying. perona suggested she takes care of you which made him actually cry cause perona dont be fucking mean)
💗xtra (a random headcanon for them):
zoro is so good at doing eye makeup specifically. i mean like because of all the sword-training and all, he has really good hand-eye coordination and very precise movements. so, like if you asked him to do your liner and give him specific-ish directions for how you want him to do it, he will 100% ace it. he doesn't really do well in other departments but he can learn (if you can make him learn thru that attitude of his) also, i theorize that he's ticklish but in the randomest fucking places. one time you lovingly ran your hand through his hair, bringing it playfully down to his nape and he fuckING GIGGLED?? another time you offered him a leg-massage cause he seemed to have pulled a muscle and you were working on his calf, trying to help him out and he yelped cause it tickled???? hello what do we do with this info now?
💗yuck:
what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner? he wouldn't like judgmental people or people who are very uptight (cause although his jokes could be hit/miss, he doesn't wanna hear a fucking lecture). also dont be disrespectful to him/his friends. and also, i think he would have a thing against people who are too nosy (pre-dating mostly), like if he wanted to tell you something he would other than those basic things, he's chill.
💗zzz:
he's asleep before you can say "good night" because he's a simple man who needs to sleep 10 hours a day (minimum) see he isn't going off ruining lives, he's not fucking things up for someone else, he's just taking a nap. its like the least horrible thing he can do, let him nap. i do think he should get checked for some vitamin deficiency tho caue uh, just in case. that being said, you go to sleep now. i would too. goodnight!
a/n: loved making this so much that i might make one for literally every character ever once i get the time lol
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superhoeva · 4 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘: 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄
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next chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist
⬩ pairing(s) sexologist!francisco "frankie" morales x college student!female!reader
⬩ warning(s) very inaccurate scientific study methods (this could not happen in real life without someone going to jail, i think lol), language, flirting, sexual tension, scientific talk about genitals, safe sex practices, pcos (mentioned), endometriosis (mentioned), commentary on unbalanced male domination of sexual spaces, Spanish nicknames/pet names, smut smut smut, somewhat-guided masturbation, reader hs nipple pircings, dirty talk, mdom-ish!frankie, pussy drunk!frankie, consent checks, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), big hands!frankie, bodily fluids, doctor/patient relations, the whole "we want to but we can't but we might have to anyways" kind of vibes, some aftercare, pov switches (reader's pov uses "dr. morales. frankie's pov uses "frankie.")
⬩ author's note happy new year! starting 2024 off with a bang (literally, ha) of a new series. as mentioned before, this was inspired by an audio series created by anonyfun35 on the erotic audio site quinn (very much recommend the series and entire site if you're looking for more ethical alternatives to regular porn and able to spare a few extra dollars!), which is absolutely heavenly. frankie's been sitting in my heart recently after rewatching triple frontier, and now here we are! here is chapter one, as promised, and i can not wait to share the rest of this series with you all! (p.s. i know some people have asked to be tagged in this, but i no longer do tag lists. for those who want to keep up with new chapter, i'd recommend following the au: the study tag or just check back here regularly! heeds the warnings. let me know if i've forgotten any. drink your water. love you and hope you enjoy. <3
⬩ word count 6.4k(!)
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The lobby is suspiciously comfortable for a doctor’s office. As if the chair you’ve been shuffling back and forth in for the past five minutes. You’ve decided to focus on the mint green tint of the walls to steady yourself. Your breath moves in and out of you in quivering streams, and you have to keep running your tongue over the flesh of your bottom lip to stop your teeth from drawing blood.
A sweet-looking brunette types away at the lobby desk, and she sends you a quick smile when you accidentally catch her eye. You hope the grin you send back doesn’t look as pitiful as it felt.
Straight across from you, there’s a poster of a vagina. Vibrant and contrasting nicely with the color of the wall, it labels each part of the genitalia with pretty, curvy letters. You read over each of them, laughing a little when you get to the clitoris. Maybe you should hang a copy of the poster over your headboard. Just to make it a little easier for those who need it.
Your eyes trail left. Another poster, this one with photos of different types of barrier methods for safe sex; on it is everything from internal condoms to dental dams and a short explanation for when it’s best to use them. You study it with a little more intent than the last one and become so engrossed that you don’t hear the receptionist at the desk until her third calling of your name.
You jolt a little, looking over at her with widened eyes.
“Sorry, yes?”
She smiles at the look on your face, shaking her head.
“It’s alright,” she promises, “that stuff’s actually pretty interesting, right? I just wanted to tell you that Dr. Morales is ready to start whenever you are.”
Ignoring the way your heart jumps a little, you rise from your seat with the best grin you can manage.
“Alright,” you nod, gaze flickering down a nearby hallway, “is it–”
“All the way down and to the right. Can’t miss it. And feel free to let me know if you need anything, before or after. I’m here for whatever you need me for.”
There’s something genuine in her voice that lets your shoulders relax. You smile again, and it feels real this time. “I think I’m okay right now, but I appreciate it, I do. Thank you.”
“No worries. Oh, and honey,” she pauses, taking a second to leave her seat and trot over in front of you. “Remember to breathe. Dr. Morales is a sweetheart, I promise. Wouldn’t work here if that wasn’t the case.”
Melanie the tag on her name reads. She gives you one last wink before returning to her desk. A warm feeling fills you nicely as you watch her for a few more seconds. 
Melanie is nice. You like Melanie. If you could, you’d stay and talk to her for a while, but no sense in keeping the doctor waiting.
As you head down the hallway, the walk feels like it lasts half a second and a thousand years all at once. Time here seems to work a little differently, but maybe that’s only because of how unbelievably fucking nervous you are.
The room is at the end of the hall on the right. Just like Melanie said. The knock you give the door is softer than you mean for it to be, but it pulls open before you get the chance to knock again.
“Hi, welcome. Come on in, please.”
Well, fuck. Fuck.
The first thing you notice isn’t the fluff of hair on his head, or his big, doe, brown eyes–it’s his voice. A deep, pleasing rasp that’s soft and stirring, all of it combining into a sensation that sits snugly right in the middle of your chest. And legs.
You take a second to swallow the spit in your mouth.
“Hi,” you all but mumble back, swallowing again. God, you hope he doesn’t hear the sharp exhale that leaves your nose when he steps to the side with a smile. Your eyes blow up, big and wide, but only for a second as you swiftly compose yourself. You’re here for a scientific study, damn it, not to gape at how fucking gorgeous Dr. Morales is. Even though he is fucking gorgeous. “You’re Dr. Morales?”
“Yes,” he answers effortlessly, and you bite your tongue when he rattles off your name. His voice. You barely remember to nod, and he smiles. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he opened the door, and it’s already building a bit of sweat at the back of your neck. “It’s nice to meet you finally. Been seeing your name on all the paperwork, so it’s nice to put a face to it. Especially a face as nice as yours.”
You swallow, again, and can’t hold back the grin his words bring. “Thank you and uh… likewise.”
Dr. Morales pauses and your heart stops at the way his face drops. Then his eyebrows raise slightly like he’s impressed, and he takes in a long breath himself. A gulp of air finally refills your lungs when his smile returns, more of a smirk now.
“Thank you.”
The two words are followed by a small silence. You take it as a chance to look around. Dr. Morales takes it as a chance to glance you over, and his teeth bite into the side of his mouth at the dress you’re wearing. It’s airy and short, stopping just above the middle of your thigh.
He sniffs, clearing his throat.
“Well, if you want to go ahead and get seated, I think it’s best we just start with some introductions to break some ice. Then a short discussion about the study itself, boundaries, things like that. And I know you answered a lot of those types of questions in your application, but I think more authentic answers can come about when speaking, you know, face-to-face. Plus it’ll give us both the chance to get to know each other a little better. Relax before we get to the actual… activities for today’s session.”
You blink.
“You’re doing the… the stuff?”
Dr. Morales blinks.
“Yes,” he starts slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry, was that not what you were expecting? I-It’s in the forms you signed, though I guess it is pretty easy to glance over if you don’t know where to look. But if that’s not something you’re comfortable with, I completely understand. We also have some female doctors participating in the study if you–”
“–I’m comfortable with you doing it.” God, you know interrupting was rude. But the words spill out of you before you can stop them. “Really, I’m okay with it. Just surprised me a little, considering…”
A hard clenching of your teeth doesn’t work to hold back the small grin that sneaks upon your face at the expression on Dr. Morales’s face. He’s gone from warm to faltering and back to warm again, with a hint of delight just in the past few moments. 
“Considering what?”
Dr. Morales squints his eyes as he asks the question. Watching and waiting for your answer with the knuckles of his fingers rubbing across his pink lips. You only let your gaze trail across the action for a short second. Any longer, and you’re sure you’ll melt away.
“Nothing,” you finally breathe with a soft laugh. The muscles in your neck tense and pull as you force your eyes upwards. Back to his eyes. “Sorry, uh… introductions?”
Something in his gaze shifts and he drops his hand.
“Right, right. Uh, feel free to take a seat here while I pull up your file real quick,” Dr. Morales tells you, motioning to the deep red chaise wing chair you didn’t notice until now. You nod, not trusting your voice, and settle into the large chair. It’s even more comfortable than the one in the lobby, and Dr. Morales just barely keeps his smile at how you subconsciously snuggle into the plush.
Other than the blood rushing past your ears, the clacking of his fast typing is the only sound in the room.
Much like the lobby, the room is rather warm for where you are, literally and figuratively. It’s a kind difference from something like the dentist or your normal practitioner. The opposite of the bright, sterile white you’d expected. You can tell the room was put together with the intention of being congenial for whoever steps inside. The velvet couch and nice rug that decorate the space tell you that much.
It seems that Dr. Morales dresses with the same purpose, white coat hanging forgotten on the back of his swivel chair, showing off the taupe button-up that stretches over his impressive set of shoulders. The shirt is tucked into a pair of thick, clean-cut jeans that hug around his waist.
“Alright,” Dr. Morales begins, sliding his chair over a few feet so you can see him a bit better. He smiles as he continues, reading off your name and age, to which you nod and smile back. You make sure the grin is big enough to cover the shiver that runs throughout your body and you don't notice that he didn’t even have to look at the screen when reciting the words.
“Great. Well, as I already told you, I’m Francisco Morales,” he chuckles, “one of the doctors here participating in this study you’ve so kindly agreed to be a part of. We’re really excited about all the knowledge we’re expecting to gain from the study. I, uh, we–we really appreciate you being here.”
“Oh, thank you for the opportunity. I’m also really excited. Never been involved in something like this before, so… yeah. I’m excited.”
Huh. Excited is one of the few words able to come to your mind as you bumble through the sentence. After only a few minutes with the doctor, you’ve found it’s somewhat difficult to form a coherent enough sentence. It’s even harder with him staring at you.
“What made you want to participate, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Um,” you start without thinking, “part of it was the topic of the study itself, I guess. So many of the things that have to do with sex, at least in my experience, are centered around men and their pleasure and what makes them feel good. So I think it’s refreshing to see something like this.”
“Oh, absolutely. That’s the whole reason for us doing this. I mean, we’ve got gynecologists, hormone specialists, endocrinologists, gender surgeons, and even sex therapists on my team all working together on this.”
“Oh, wow. That’s actually… really impressive,” you breathe out, but Dr. Morales shakes his head.
“It is, but I don’t wanna take all the credit. We’ve got a lot of amazing people working on this thing that’s gonna lead to ways to help women suffering from endometriosis, PCOS, trans women, everyone, really.”
Your eyes soften at the doctor’s words, and you straighten a little.
“Well, now I’m very happy to be here.”
Dr. Morales’s eyes squint with his smile this time. It’s the biggest he’s smiled all week.
“Good. I’m glad. And you’ve already filled out all the financial paperwork? Wanna make sure you get paid for this week’s session as soon as possible.”
“Oh, yeah. That was actually the other reason I signed up. Got some student loan payments coming up, and I could use the extra money.”
Dr. Morales laughs to himself.
“Loan payments are a bitch, aren’t they? Still paying mine off,” He shakes his head. Something about his curse pulls a small chuckle from you.
“Never heard a doctor curse before,” you tell him, and he laughs this time, raising his eyebrows with a shrug.
“Sorry. I’ll try to keep it at bay, but I should warn you… I can have a pretty dirty mouth.”
Whether he knows it or not, Dr. Morales’s voice seems to drop an octave as he speaks. The words are paired with his gaze clouding to something similar to a stirring ardor. It shakes something inside you, rumbling into the depths of your veins, heating you in a way that feels remarkable. In a way that has you clenching and reeling, eyes just barely watering.
He hasn’t even touched you yet, and he’s got you evaporating into a transcendent air of nothing. You brush your hands along the fabric of the skirt of your dress, arms stretching and trying to find some sense of relief. Dr. Morales stares into you, a burning observance of an action that your subconscious therefore controls more than anything. The look is hot and pointed and forces him to take in a long inhale. He squeezes the thin arm of his chair when you finally grant him a soft reply.
“I don’t mind.”
Dr. Morales pauses before letting out a huff. A smirk teases across his lips, and his mouth opens like he’s going to say something. He stops just short of whatever it is, opting to roll his seat a little closer to you while clearing his throat.
His elbows hit the top of his knees, gaze tilting to yours. Unable to hold it, you try to settle for his hands, but that doesn’t seem to calm you at all. You flick your eyes again, this time onto his thighs, but it’s no use.
Damn it.
“Um, so today’s session will revolve around cunnilingus and a some hand stimulation. Uh… sorry. Sorry, I–” Dr. Morales stumbles to a stop and your eyebrows furrow.
“You okay?”
He holds a hand out at the look on your face with a quick nod.
“Yeah, yes, I’m okay. Where was I? Uh… right, so like we talked about a little bit ago, I’ll be the one performing the… stuff, as you called it. And speaking of that, you’re still one hundred percent comfortable with me being to one to do it?” 
“Hundred and ten,” you promise with a bobbing of your head that makes him grin again.
“Okay, then,” he nods back, hands rubbing against the denim of his jeans. “Let’s get started.”
.・゜゜・
You’re going to be the death of him.
He had an inkling of it when you greeted him at the door, those eyes all wide as you took everything in. He was confident about it when you assured him that you’d be alright with the fact that he’d be the one ‘doing the stuff.’ He knew when you didn’t mind his dirty mouth. And he was certain when you'd asked if he was alright.
Dead. That’s what you’ll make him by the end of this study, and he’ll go happy. A little embarrassed also, given how he started sputtering through his sentences like he was twenty years younger.
Frankie’s breath catches a little when he returns to the room after washing his hands. You’re just finishing the tie on the robe he’d provided you with, and he doesn’t realize how flimsy it is until now. It maps across your shape damn near perfectly as you hang your dress on the side of the wingchair.
“Hi,” you breathe out, spinning around. Frankie rakes his teeth over his bottom row of teeth hard.
“Hi,” he blinks back, making sure to brighten his face with a small smile. “Ready?”
You shakily hum your answer, smoothing down your robe to busy your hands. It’s made of silk and feels incredible, but boy is it small. Just barely covering the cheeks of your ass, you might as well be wearing nothing.
“Alright. So, before I forget, let me go ahead and get a swab of the inside of your cheek, just so we have that on record.”
Frankie grabs a long cotton swab and its transport tube off his desk, stepping over to where you stand waiting. He swallows, ordering you to softly open. You obey with no questions asked, dropping your jaws.
Did you mean to stick out your tongue, too? Frankie has no idea, but whatever the answer is, he doesn’t care, not with the rustle he feels in his middle.
“Thank you,” he replies after a few scrubs of your mouth, eyes catching yours briefly before sticking the swab in the tube and placing it back onto his desk. He huffs, turning back around to you. “Now, let’s get you settled on the couch.”
Frankie holds out his hand for you to take without thinking. The regret that runs through him slips away as you place your hand into his grip and let him lead you. His other hand reaches for his chair, rolling it over as he walks with you.
He rubs a gentle thumb on the back of your palm as you sit, hand squeezing into a fist when yours drops from his. Frankie sits in his chair with a grunt, planting his feet on the group, making sure to face you.
The man softens a little at the sight of you, all bunched up into a ball of returned nerves, and he thinks for a moment.
“How about we start with a deep breath, yeah? Relax a little bit before we do anything else?”
You nod and Frankie’s head goes a bit fuzzy for a short moment. You’re so sweet, with your tiny robe and all your nods, like candy. You breathe in deep, just like he says to. Your chest rises with it, and Frankie almost forgets to take in the breath as well.
“Good. Now, how we go from here is up to you,” Frankie starts, hands folding together politely. “Robe can stay on, or you can take it off. Your decision–”
“Robe off,” you speak before he’s finished. He holds back a chuckle. “Sorry. I’m okay with it off if you are.”
Of course, you are. Of course, you are, and so is he.
“That’s absolutely okay with me. As long as you’re comfortable,” he states, and your fingers go to pull at the tie. He shuffles, waiting, and swallows when you pause.”
“Um, is my bra being off okay? I took it off with my dress, didn’t even think about it until now.”
Frankie’s head pivots back to the wine-colored chair. And so you did. There’s more lace than he expects, causing him to stare longer than he means. He turns back to you with his eyes darker than before.
“That’s perfectly fine.”
You nod again, fuck, and finally pull the ties. His heart nearly stops as the silk slips down your shoulder, exposing your naked skin to him, inch by inch.
God, you’re devastating. You devastate him, and he’s going to die a happy, happy man. It’s inappropriate, he knows that, but fuck. Yes, he’s a doctor, but he’s also a man with blood pumping through his veins and down into his cock, which he’s currently shielding with a subtle cupping of his hand.
Your robe continues to fall, and soon enough, nearly all of you is revealed to him. His eyes, working with a mind of their own, fall upon your breasts.
Of course.
“Wow,” is all he says, and the corners of your mouth pull upwards. You peek down, the tips of your barbell piercings shining with every one of your shaky inhales. “Wow, uh… wow.”
“Oh, these. Yeah, I got them a few years ago,” you reveal, setting the robe to the side. “Hurt like hell, but it was worth it.”
“While I definitely agree, I was talking about your… everything. You’re gorgeous, querida.”
Querida. The name is unexpected, yet received by you with dilating pupils. It’s not just the way he says it but the way he says it. You can tell that he means it, every letter. Every syllable, as it falls off his tongue, into your ears, and down to just inside the thin layer of your panties.
It’s the only piece of clothing left on your body, and you’re certain they’re soaked. You can feel yourself seeping through, needing for something to happen. Anything, or you’ll die.
“Thank you,” you murmur back, impatience inching you closer and closer. To what, you don’t know, but you think it’s something special. “Should I go ahead and…?”
Dr. Morales’s gaze oozes down you where you’re slowly parting your legs. It takes him a second to answer.
“Uh,” he interrupts himself with a short laugh, “actually I was going to have you do something else for me first. When you’re, you know, in the act of pleasuring yourself, how do you usually start? Do you… do you dive right in or is there some kind of build-up?”
Legs having paused, you blink. It’s almost impossible to formulate an answer, but somehow you manage.
“Normally, I’d play with my nipples.” God, it sounds so silly when you say it out loud. “Tease myself for a little bit until I’m ready to start.”
The doctor sits back in his seat, still covering his growing member.
“Why don’t you go ahead and do a little bit of that for me?”
There’s that thing again. With his voice, the thing that is causing your organs to convulse and squeeze. Has you scooting a little further back onto the couch with ease and a deep breath.
You hear Dr. Morales suck in one of his own as your legs spread a little further, revealing a large wet splotch in the very middle of your panties. It’s seeped a little into the couch, and you’re not even embarrassed. Your legs more because you want him to see it. You need him to.
A flinch jerks you when the tips of your fingers meet the buds of your breast. You twist and pull, and it feels good. Better than normal with the beautiful doctor watching you do it. They start to pebble around the metal and a few shocks through you.
Leaving your lips is a gasp. Soft and nearly nothing, but it tugs something from Dr. Morales.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
When you gasp again, he bites his lip.
“You like that? You like it when I say that?”
You nod.
“Words, querida.” No matter how much he likes the nod.
“Yes, I like it when you say that.”
“When I say what?”
You hear him chuckle at the small groan you release.
“A good girl.”
Your voice is even smaller now, hoarse with want.
“Good girl.” Another groan from you. “Now, I need you to move a little further down, okay? Slip those pretty panties off for me.”
Your turn.
“You really like them?”
Dr. Morales’s throat bobs at your question you ask while dragging your hand lower. They glide across your stomach to rest just over your center. Pushing onto your clit, your moan is muffled by the way your teeth catch the soft flesh of your lip.
“I do, muñeca,” he assures you. “I really do. They’re almost as pretty as you are.”
You can’t help the full grin that sneaks onto your face. You push against yourself a little harder, and your head falls to the back of the couch. Fingers hooking under the seam, you tug.
Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion at this moment. You raise your head back up, just to catch the reaction from the doctor, who’s already gazing into your pussy when your eyes refocus. His breathing changes from long, calming inhales, to unsteady suspires.
“Jesus,” he grits out just under his breath when you eventually throw your panties alongside the robe and fully open yourself to him. Clenching around nothing, you relax further into the couch, legs propped and feet settled against the velvet.
Your huffs push out hot when Dr. Morales finally lifts from his seat. You don’t dare look away as he steps forward, towering over you. He bends at the waist, face lowering near your own. He gets so close that, for a split second, you think he’s going to kiss you. Press his pouting lips into yours like you so badly want him to.
His breath fans across your face, but he pulls away before you get to bask in any of the warmth. In his hand is a pillow from the couch that he plops onto the floor.
“Bad knees,” Dr. Morales mumbles, smirking at the dazed look in your eye. You say absolutely nothing, only watching as he drops his knees onto the wide pillow, hands clenching the edge of the couch cushions.
All the doctor does for a tick is stare. He stares and stares, tongue darting out to wet his mouth.
“Keep rubbing for me, hermosa,” Dr. Morales orders. “Just a little more.”
Your pussy clenches around nothing when your fingers dip down and come back sticky with your wetness. A whine exits you, and your head falls again.
“Can you touch me now? Please,” you remember to add at the end, the ache between your legs forcing you to squirm. “Please, I can’t wait anymore.”
A hand on your thigh almost startles you. Your head tips back up to see his palm sitting heavy against your leg.
“This what you want?” He asks, another scalding touch planting itself on your other thigh. His hands give thrilling grips, thumbs landing at the very edge of your dripping lips.
A pathetic nod from you.
“Words, gorgeous,” Dr. Morales tells you, gaze completely unmoving.
Gorgeous. Hm. A new one, but just as effective.
You pant a few more times before pushing out “Yes, that’s what I wanted.”
“Good girl,” he praises, and you’re nearly done for. “Now, if I ask on a scale of one to ten, how turned on are you right now?”
It’s tough to think of an answer. His hands, so big and inching closer and closer to your heat, are melting your thoughts away at record speed. Everything you try to come up with leaves too fast for you to catch them.
“A… a seven,” you sigh, liking the way his eyes twinkle at your response. “Seven.”
Dr. Morales chuckles lowly, looking up at you.
“Seven?” Frankie grins. “I haven’t touched your pussy yet, and you’re already at a seven?”
He waits for an answer but only receives a long whine that makes him want to laugh again. Fuck, you’re cute. And wet enough that your juices ooze out of you with a pretty shine, and it’s all for him.
Honestly, the only reason he’s lasted this long is because this is for science. Because Francisco Morales is a medical professional and needs to have some kind of composure. It’s breaking, though. He knows it, and not just because of the way his hands crawl closer and closer to your pussy. Or because of the ache in his cock that’s straining against the crotch of his jeans. Sucking in a breath at the feeling of it catching against the tight fabric, Frankie scans you.
Your chest, those stunning tits, have a noticeable rise and fall and you watch him. Something in your gaze, an unexplainable force, finally pulls his face down. It’s as close to your pussy as it’s been. He tries to remind himself about the self-control he’s supposed to be possessing, but a few more seconds pass and it’s nowhere to be found.
He starts just off the left side. The first kiss, soft and careful to start easy. Figure out what you like, what you don’t, and what you really like.
Kiss after kiss, his lips press a little harder. Gliding across the skin of your thighs and pelvis, staying in a spot a little long when it elicits a sound or squirm from you.
The pecks turn to full smooches, and he soon enough finds himself right where he wants to be.
Eyes meeting yours, he sinks into you with a long, fiercely slow drag of his tongue. Frankie’s gaze ties into yours, he puckers his lips and sucks. It’s a supple thing that he pairs with a flick of his tongue right across your pearl.
“Oh,” you squeak, unable to continue with anything but another broken sound. When you arch, Frankie’s hand reaches higher to rest against your hip. He had his suspicions that you were a squirmer, but to see it like this, up close is something else. Something special. “Shit.”
God, you taste incredible. Better than incredible, and while he wants to tell you he can’t. There’s no way he’s pulling away from this, so he suffices for his own moan.
“Fuck,” he mumbles against you, mouth lifting to suck a bit harder. The hand not occupied on your hip reaches until his thumb sits just inside your opening. He rubs, delicately, all the way up, only pulling his mouth away to smooth it over the slick skin.
Another moan, this time from both of you when your hips grind upwards. He matches your movements, letting his head dip back down to continue his lick.
After a while, Frankie decides to up it a notch. Delve as much of his mouth as he can against you, lapping and slurping whatever he can catch before it leaks down onto his chin. The sound it makes, your pussy and his soaking lips, is disgusting. Loud, sinful squelches of wetness that he would give anything to hear for the rest of his life.
Yet somehow, what leaves you is even better. A combination of hitching breaths, loud coos, and cries for him to keep going. Just like that, fuck. So he keeps going, just as he is until he can barely breathe.
He yanks away from you with a grunt but makes sure to replace his tongue with his hand. 
“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Frankie husks out, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh while he finishes catching his breath. “What number now, princesa?”
Frankie makes sure to wait until you’re about to answer him when he snakes his tongue into your slit and fucks. His head bobs back and forth, tongue caressing as deep inside of you as he can. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing with ease thanks to the mixture of slick and spit.
“I don’t know, I can’t think of one,” you rush out, and Frankie chuckles. He gives you one last bold lick before pulling away. He has to hold you tighter when you squirm in irritation, nearly sobbing.
Frankie shushes you with a kind pat on your thigh. You don’t have a chance to whine anything out before he hooks an arm of your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the couch. One of your legs hangs just off the couch, so the doctor hitches it over his shoulder.
His eyebrows scrunch, and he focuses his attention on ghosting a few fingers just barely inside of you. He looks up at you and is met with you already looking back, ready and waiting for him to push further.
He pauses in a wait. Not ten seconds pass before you try to thrust his fingers further yourself, but he doesn’t let you.
“All you need to do is give me a number, baby, and I’ll fuck these as deep as you want.”
“Nine,” you whisper, and he spots your hands clench. You must want to touch him.
“Nine,” he repeated, thumb rolling a circle over your clit. “How many fingers to get you to ten?”
“Three, plea–ah,” you mewl out when Frankie slides his middle digit inside you. He lets out his own noise at the way you suck him in.
His hand bottoms out, and you’re already fucking yourself on his finger. “That’s a girl. Already taking my finger so well. Feel so fucking good around me.”
You’re truly a sight to behold as Frankie watches you, skin damp with a slight sheen, curving and grinding against his hand. Speed increasing, almost growls when he bends to lap at your clit. His tongue twirls against the bud of nerves, and he has to close his eyes to stop himself from reaching down and giving his painfully hard cock a squeeze.
Frankie slides in the second and third finger at the same time, and you break. 
You don’t mean to tangle his hair with your fingers, but they do anyway. It’s hard, but you tug them away, clenching the couch instead.
“Sorry. Sorry, I–” you blurt out, breath long gone, but Dr. Morales has none of it. He doesn’t lift from his licking and swirling to grab your hand and tangle your fingers back into his hair. “Fuck me.”
The rhythm he finds is relentless. He pumps knuckles deep inside you, sliding in and out, collecting a residue of thick moisture. He curls his fingers, searching and finding the spongy spot that causes you to tighten your grip on his hair. His fingertips drag across it, over and over, and you fall limp in his grasp.
“Good fucking girl,” he tells you, words slurring together in his pussy-drunken state. “So good for me. Now I need you to cum, alright? Need you to come for me, all over my fingers so I can drink it all up.”
Dr. Morales slurps messily, chin now nearly dripping as he eats at you. Savoring the tang and hint of sweet while his fingers drive with a steady vigor. There’s no way you can stay still now. You arch, twist, and grind into the doctor, propelling him even deeper. He’s reaching somewhere inside of you that you once thought impossible. Taking grasp of you entirely.
You’re close. You’re so close
“I’m clo–fuck, yes, I’m close. Please don’t stop, please,” you whimper.
“Yeah, you are. Squeezing all nice around me, like a good girl. Sucking you into my mouth. Love how you feel on my mouth, baby. And on my tongue and around my fingers. Never gonna forget how you taste. Shit, could come just like this, so I need you to come right now, okay?”
Frankie doesn’t even know what he’s saying, his rambles. They just pour out, some of it incomprehensible as he busies himself with circling and flicking your sensitive clit. 
You sob out one last moan before the damn breaks. He groans along with you at the way your clit throbs against his tongue. His fingers slow, but only a bit as they make sure to rub right against your g-spot.
A choking sound leaves you as you can barely breathe. The air sucks from your lungs almost as hard as Dr. Morales does down below, and your eyes clench shut. You see stars and space, world falling mute, and body quaking with a thick orgasm.
It rolls over you in drowning waves, the euphoric warmth, driving you with an unbearable bliss. You whine, crying out a few tears. Twitching and shivering under the strong hands of Dr. Morales. 
His hold is tender as you work through it, talking to you gently in the pauses he takes from licking you clean.
“Fucking look at you, querida.”
“Did so good for me, so fucking perfect.”
“Can’t wait to get you back in here next week.”
Only some of the words make it to your ears. The blood rushing makes it hard to understand, but just the sound of it is comforting enough. You feel more kisses press into you, this time just under your belly button, as the fingers inside you still.
The two of you stay like that for several minutes. Dr. Morales murmuring quietly to talk you down. Your leg still over his shoulder caressed by his free hand, while your own twirls at his brown locks.
“Fuck me,” you breathe out eventually, and Dr. Morales smiles against you. You can’t help but join him, chest warming at the final peck he places onto your knee before lowering your leg.
“Gonna pull out, okay? I’ll go slow,” he tells you. You nod, hand falling around his to touch at the warm skin. You huff out a short breath, mouth falling open as you stare at the wetness revealed when he begins to pull out.
Frankie whispers out his own damn, watching you until his fingers are free. Fuck, you’re pretty, aren’t you?
“I meant what I said earlier,” he declares, pushing away the thought. “Did great, muñeca. Incredible, actually.”
“I could say the same for you…” you mumble with a shy grin, and Frankie finds it touching. You’re divine. You’re precious. You’re… his patient.
The room is filled with heat and smells of sex. It clouds Frankie’s brain, but he knows he needs to keep moving. You can dwell, but not him. He’s got a job to do.
Frankie only lets himself stare for a few more minutes before he rises with a groan. His knees are aching, but he doesn't care. His face heats when you help him up the rest of the way, loose limbs and wet stains in all.
“Thank you,” he smiles, moving to hand you your robe with his untainted hand. “Let me go grab you some water and a towel, and then we can do your swab so you can get out of here.”
He’s turning to leave, heading for the bathroom across the hall to wash his hand–it’s still wet and shining, even now–but stops when he sees the look on your face.
“Is it required that I leave right away?”
Frankie is quick to answer. The small pout on your face makes it so.
“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “You’re free to take your time, take a breath. Sip on the water I’m gonna go grab you. Hell, you can even take a nap, if you want. I’ve uh… we’ve got rooms upstairs with beds and blankets. I think there are some snacks in there, too.
“Really?” You blink at him.
“Yeah. Gotta keep you all as comfortable as possible.”
Frankie sees that look again, the pout. He’s not sure you even know you’re doing it.
“I actually might take you up on that nap. I don’t think my legs have really come back yet,” you tell him, looking at him while slipping on the robe. When feels your eyes trail down, right to the bulge in his pants, he sucks in a rough inhale and does his best to screen the obvious.
“I’ll be right back with that water and towel,” Frankie rushes out, turning for the door.
His clean hand is sitting shaky on the handle when he hears you.
“Do you want me to…” you trail off, pausing for so long that he doesn’t expect you to keep going. “I could help you with that if you want.”
That. He knows you aren’t talking about getting water or towels, and it crumbles him. He grits his teeth, dick jumping at the thought of your–
No. No, he can’t. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t.
Frankie turns, digging deep for the strength to look you in the eyes.
“...we shouldn't, sweetheart. It’s against the rules, and we don’t want either of us getting in any kind of trouble, right?”
It takes a long time for you to nod. Way too long.
“Right,” you agree, but Frankie can smell the lie. He wonders if you can smell his, too.
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© superhoeva
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glassesfreekjr · 11 months
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Can we analyse Tulin for a bit?
Apart from being the keet birb boy, perhaps what makes his character so enthralling is how it so brilliantly reflects and offers commentary on the influences that have shaped him.
Whether that be Revali, his father Teba, and ESPECIALLY Link. Hell, it's no wonder that Link & Tulin have garnered such a sibling dynamic. Tulin essentially IS Link, from a time before the burden of responsibility and pain caused Link to cave in on himself pre-Breath of the Wild.
Right down to the veteran warrior father figure (Link's father was captain of the guard) and their acceptance of a newfound legacy out of forthright integrity. Tulin, at this point in his life, has yet to give himself away until there's nothing of him left to give, and let's pray he never needs to.
But Tulin would do that in a heartbeat, if called upon. He is very much his father's son.
You can see it in how archtypical childish spunk is tempered, like steel, by Teba's down-to-earth bluntness and sheer work ethic.
(BTW I wonder if Link sees his own father in Teba? That'd check out.)
But what caught me most pleasantly off-guard is Tulin's skepticism, which has become one of his most compelling traits for me. It's not something you would expect.
He did not believe that the Stormwind Ark existed, and while ultimately proven wrong, it frankly wasn't an illogical assumption to make. Tulin clearly thought through that opinion. He'd also grown frustrated that the Rito placed their faith on a songbook miracle — a eucatastrophe, if you will — instead of something more concrete like personal skill or, say, Link's whole-ass existence.
The second Link arrived and offered his aid, Tulin accepted his help without hesitation. He turned his skepticism inward to reevaluate his own tenets. And it's as a duo that they brought about said eucatastrophe through no one's strength but their own. They are siblings, Your Honor. Aryll 2.0
(If Revali had been blessed with a support network saying "it's okay to accept help. no man is an island," doubtless he still would have perished in Vah Medoh. But there would be less of an ego to shatter. He would have faced death with less blind panic and more dignity. And most importantly, he'd have other people to bolster the wind beneath his wings during his short life. (At the very least, Revali would not have as big an ass not be as big an ass, just as Tulin would be a different person without his family.)
dammit quaquaval you have RUINED me
Also, one thing that everyone seems to miss is just how deceptively intelligent Tulin turns out to be. This kid fuckin' knows his stuff. His mastery of aerodynamics beyond the instinctual is almost on par with Revali at such a young age. And how many precision headshots has his avatar saved your ass with, don't lie.
He somehow managed to follow his father back through time. Tulin can see Koroks.
It's not the same kind of passion-fuelled intellect as, say, Zelda has. More of an unyeilding conviction to learn all he can and put it into practice. About as understated a quality as Yunobo's inexplicable business acumen and economic sense.
As his mother Saki put it, for Tulin to develop as an individual, he needs to experience more of reality and its hardships. Shooting bullseyes and improving one's flying prowess / wind magic can't contend with genuine combat. True to her word, Tulin had to experience mistakes firsthand, and critically examine his own naïve ways of thinking in order to take those necessary steps.
...
So then, uh, is it wrong for me to wish something horrible upon him, if only to witness the positive character growth that springs from it? Tulin isn't the sort who'll shatter under pressure, like Revali did at the end of his life, or like Link did under the weight of expectation. Buckle, yes — but not break. Tulin's steadfast conviction, inherited from his father and guided by the people he loves, would assuredly see him through.
In any event, his Hero's Journey isn't close to over. I'd be curious to see Tulin at its conclusion.
tl;dr I wanna Emesis Blue his bitch-ass, AITA?
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dawntheduckrb · 3 months
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Okay genuine question, do schools actually teach evolution?
I've been roped into watching a christian movie (tm) with my mom, and it's about evolution theory vs creationism, and I'm only now realizing that I have never actually learned anything about evolution in my life.
I'm very uncomfortable sitting in here watching this with my mother's commentary, but it's got me to do some thinking and now I think I've got some video essays to watch while I eat tonight
Edit; thanks for all the helpful comments! I'll be turning off notifications for this post because it's gotten more traction than I planned it to and it's gotten to be more than I can reply to, but I'll still check back on it from time to time!
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Welp, it's Nikke, so of course I'm gonna request Rapi, Anis & Neon who catch their S/O staring at their ass (not in battle, just during free time)
(GoV: NIKKE) Rapi, Anis, and Neon's S/O looking at their butt
NSF-W IMPLICATIONS (Obviously, though this is more humorous than lewd)
Of course this is literally the first ask I get for Nikke. ...Well, at least you had the politeness to not do so during combat.
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A/N: Okay I genuinely forgot how NIKKE throws ass in your face first thing when you're playing, especially Rapi's.
Rapi detects S/O's IFF behind her while she is near the counter, organizing some paperwork.
At first, she smiles due to their presence-
-...Before quickly realizing S/O's heat signature seemed to be rising on their cheeks.
(Rapi) "S/O. I would kindly ask for you to keep your eyes above my waist."
(S/O) "S-Sorry! I was just...Um...It looks nice, at least!"
She can't help the blush that's currently making her core overheat as well.
Rapi immediately turns around and reprimands S/O by gently flicking them on the forehead, careful that her mechanical finger didn't actually harm them.
(Rapi) "Thank you, but do not stare when there's the risk of someone walking in."
Before they could get a word in, she shook her head.
(Rapi) "A-And, that is not an invitation to stare in private either!"
The single stutter was enough to tell S/O how flustered Rapi was.
Being complimented by someone she loved was usually enough for her systems to simulate the phenomenon of "butterflies in her stomach", but in this case it was definitely different.
Thank the goddess that it was just them in the room at the moment. She did not want Anis's commentary on this situation.
Granted, her wardrobe did admittedly make it hard for S/O not to notice.
...Maybe she should change wardrobes when at the base, or at least wear something longer.
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Anis was lying down on the sofa, idly flipping through her phone with S/O in the same room.
She sighed before flopping over onto her back, glancing at S/O.
(Anis) "Jeez, could you be any more obvious about where you're staring, S/O?"
(S/O) "S-SORRY! I didn't mean to!"
Her eyes widened in surprise before scoffing.
(Anis) "Wait, seriously? I was just cracking a joke, wooooow!"
If S/O was anyone else, she'd probably just punch them in the face for that.
But, since it was them, she'd allow it...Not that she's going to say that, because it's pretty funny to watch them get flustered.
Though Anis wasn't completely immune herself.
Plus she didn't want to give the green light for S/O to be ogling her all day during their free time.
Anis was somewhat flattered that S/O thought she was pretty enough that they even stared to begin with.
As long as it was only just her, anyways, she'd remain flattered.
(Anis) "Had no idea you were such a pervert...Well, actually yeah I can, considering who your usual company is."
(S/O) "The Commander?"
(Anis) "Ah yes, because I'm definitely referring to the only guy on base at the moment, present company included."
Anis replied, rolling her eyes.
(Anis) "If I hear you staring at anyone else, your ass will be in trouble."
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Neon was honestly busy focusing on adjusting the scope on her rifle, hoping that it would land an explosive shot more accurately on the range.
S/O was in the room, though strangely they had not said anything for a small period of time.
Were they focusing on something too?
Neon glanced back at S/O and noticed they were staring down.
...Meeting where their eyes were staring at, it was indeed her backside.
(Neon) "H-Hey! What the heck are you doing?!"
(S/O) "AH! Sorry, m-my mind just spaced out and!-"
Neon pouted, crossing her arms while her core began to overheat.
(Neon) "That's no excuse, you can't be staring at my butt while I'm focusing here!"
She wasn't careful with her volume, which meant that someone definitely overheard that line, much to the despair of S/O.
Neon however didn't really notice, and began loudly lecturing S/O how her butt was nothing compared to the power of the firepower she was going to unleash!
And at this point, S/O was starting to sound like the perfect target!
Anis heard the conversation and began snickering, ready to use it for teasing ammo later.
Rapi heard it and began blushing, trying her best not to pay it any mind.
The Commander simply sighed and went back to his paperwork, attempting to tune out Neon still talking.
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Coming To An Understanding #5
I admit that this little series is entirely self indulgent, but I hope you also enjoy it. I'm hoping to have the next two parts ready to post tomorrow.
I am still working on completing the other prompts I have from you lovely people and will post as and when I'm able to finish them.
~ Previous ~
“What about you guys?” asks Janine.  “Any plans this weekend?”
“We’re headed to the museum and then when it cools down in the afternoon we’re having a picnic,” you happily inform her, flashing a smile in Melissa’s direction.  The red head has remained largely quiet during the discussions of everyone’s plans for the weekend, but that in itself is nothing new.  You know she likes to keep her private life private, but it’s not like the two of you are any sort of a secret, and it’s a conversation you’ve had a number of times now.  So long as you’re not giving away any sordid details, or letting slip how secretly soft she really is, she’s happy for you to share.
It’s only as the other’s begin to file out and you turn to find Melissa looking at you with an odd expression that you think anything more of her silence.  “What’s up?”
“Was my idea for this weekend lame?” she finally asks.  She had sat listening to everyone else discuss their weekend plans, and while you had seemed happy to tell everyone of your plans, she worries they’re not exactly exciting in comparison. 
“No, not lame in the least,” you smile.  “I’m looking forward to this weekend.”  You step forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  “Long as you don’t flirt with the museum guide again.”
“I didn’t flirt with her!”
*
“I feel like we keep doing the things I want.”
You look up at Melissa from your spot on the picnic blanket.  With the sun in her hair, she looks better than any of the art you’ve seen in the museum.
“You’re deciding this time,” she informs you, her tone very much no nonsense.  “What are we doing next weekend?”  She braces for your answer, waiting for you to say something young and energetic and wondering where her sports bra is.  She watches as you take a moment to think, your gaze far away, but your fingers tracing the seam on her jeans.  A smile slowly creeps across your face and she finds she’s almost holding her breath.
“Okay.  I want a Melissa Schemmenti guided tour of the Boardwalk, complete with running commentary.”
The red head frowns.  “What?”
“I love your stories about the Boardwalk,” you grin.  “I want the live version.”
Melissa continues to look down at you oddly, her brain and her heart not quite sure how to react to your request.  “Seriously, that’s what you want?”
She gave you absolutely free reign and that’s what you choose?  A day with her, listening to her talk?
You shift on the picnic blanket, shimmying so you can lay your head on her thigh, looking up at her.  “Yup.  I mean, maybe lunch too, but we can decide on that when we’re there?”
Melissa feels her cheeks heat up in a blush as she looks down at you, reaching out to card her fingers through your hair.  You look genuinely happy with your suggestion.  Smiling at the prospect of a day where you’re not doing anything big and exciting, but a day where you get to wander around with her.  She’s what you want.  She’s enough to make you smile like that.  Finally, she returns your smile.  “The Boardwalk it is then.”
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