#but I was texting my last manager about switching back and a few things would have to be done before

[mavrintarou]

[11:16 PM] Sakusa Kiyoomi

It's been a while since I last posted about Omi-Omi. Happy (belated) Valentine's Day!

Warning: mild angst but reconciled and happy smut (18+)

.

Kiyoomi set his gym bag in the usual spot of his apartment. Tonight, his home felt unusually cold and empty.

Switching the lights on, he is met with two floating balloons and a bag with red and pink hearts printed all over it.

He let out a chuckle and grabbed the bag, pulling out the tissue paper that was stuffed inside. He found all sorts of chocolate inside, his favorite chocolates.

Happy Valentine’s Day, jerk.

Y/n

Kiyoomi released a deep sigh. He and Y/n had gotten into an argument two nights ago, he couldn’t even remember what it was about. But it was 48 hours of silence from Y/n, 48 hours of emptiness.

The phone line rang repeatedly until it went to her voicemail.

He’s sent her three texts and they were left unread.

“C’mon…” he whispered, pacing around his place. “Pick up, please…”

A click came from the other line and he exhaled, “Y/n, thank goodness, where – “

“Hi, this isn’t Y/n but I’m her coworker!”

Kiyoomi frowned, and growled, “where is Y/n?”

“We are at a company dinner and she’s here… a little intoxicated…”

Kiyoomi could hear mumblings in the background, “… who is it…”

“Where are you guys?” he asked, heading to the shoe rack to put his shoes on.

He heard muffling but couldn’t hear clearly.

“… don’t tell him where I am…”

“… he’s mean and I don’t – I don’t wanna see him right now…”

His heart dropped.

“Hi, hello? Are you still there? Omi? Is this Omi with a white heart emoji next to your name? The Omi that is mean?”

“Yes,” Kiyoomi answered defeatedly, “this is Omi.”

“Look,” whoever this person on the other line whispered, “she keeps saying you are mean and she doesn’t want to see you but I secretly know she does, women to women, she wants to see you… we’re… we’re at the XXXX restaurant.” She paused before whispering loudly, “come get your girl!”

.

Kiyoomi’s strides were only half their usual length, and he inserted a two-second pause between each step. Y/n, with a gloomy mood, followed four feet behind him.

Arriving at the restaurant, he discovered her sitting sadly at the end of the table, all alone. Her colleagues were accompanied by their partners, but Y/n was left by herself. Kiyoomi felt a lump of guilt in his throat; he should have been there with her.

Their most recent argument stemmed from this issue. Y/n had requested him to cut short his training if possible for one night, but he declined, emphasizing the priority of his training.

“I’m simply asking if you could leave an hour earlier, or even thirty minutes early to make it to dinner, if it’s feasible. Can you not even manage that?” Her voice was tinged with angst.

“No, you understand how important my training is. I can’t simply leave early for something like this.”

Something like this…

Now, he felt the full weight of guilt engulfing him.

He halted and glanced back, noticing that Y/n had also come to a stop, gazing into the distance. Following her gaze, he spotted a small shop with claw and capsule machines.

He is reminded of his snarky comment about her liking such stupid things.

Walking up to her, he waited until she looked at him. “Let’s go,” he said jerking his head towards the shop.

Her cheeks were still rosy from the alcohol, her eyes weren’t as lively as they should be. “No,” she grumbles, looking away with a pout. “It’s just stupid stuff,” she attempted to walk around him when he caught her wrist and began tugging her towards the store. “What are you doing?”

He ignores her question and tugs her gently along until they get to the change machine. Stuffing a few bills inside to exchange for tokens. “What would you like?”

She looked at the handful of tokens and then his eyes, and with a weary tone she asked, “why are you doing this?”

“Because you like it and it makes you happy,” his tone is gentle and careful, “and I want to see you happy.” He puts a handful of tokens in her palm. “Go, show me what makes you happy.”

Still pouty, she closed her fingers around the token and walked around him.

Kiyoomi smiled to himself, knowing deep down she was excited.

.

“Are you satisfied with your wins?” He stared at the bag full of plushies and capsule toys.

Y/n nodded, restraining a bright smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Seizing the opportunity, Kiyoomi extended his left hand, asking, “can you hold my hand?” He let out a quite breath when she placed her palm in his. They walked side by side in silence.

“Where are we going?” she asked quietly.

“Let’s go grab some junk food at 7/11 and... my place?” He prayed she would come over but instead, she looked at him as if he had two heads. Chuckling, he knew why she was looking at him weirdly. He was completely against eating any junk food, let alone anything from a convenience store. “A little junk food won’t kill me.”

“It might make you sick though?”

“Shh, don’t jinx me like that.”

.

Sure enough, it did make him feel sick.

All he ate was a cup of instant ramen, and within less than an hour, he started experiencing stomach churning.

“I told you,” Y/n scolded, yet concern was written all over her face. She quickly ushered him to lie down on the couch.

If it meant for Y/n to nurse him and show him affection again, the stomach ache was worth it.

He groaned, “it hurts…”

Digging through her purse, she tried to look for her pill box. “Here, take this medication. It’ll help with the tummy ache.”

He accepted the small pill and popped it into his mouth, taking it down with water. He grabbed her hand, “rub my tummy like you did that one time.”

Y/n hesitated, staring at him suspiciously before reaching to push his shirt up to reveal his abdomen. She ignored the ripples of muscles and put pressure on a certain area of his body.

Kiyoomi groaned, feeling instant relief.

She reached for his hand and placed it with hers, “when you have a tummy ache, always press this pressure point.”

She was about to stand up when he stopped her. Panicking he asked, “wait, where are you going?”

“I’m just going to make you some rice soup.”

He still pouted, watching her walk away to his kitchen.

A few minutes later, she returned with a bowl of steaming contents. “Bland, just the way you like it,” she mentioned, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. “How is your stomach feeling?”

“It’ll feel a lot better if you do it…”

Y/n scoffed and slapped his hand away, “you’re such a baby.”

“Correction, I’m your baby…”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him, “who are you and what have you done to Kiyoomi?”

Kiyoomi’s lips turned downwards. “Omi…” he corrected quietly. When she doesn’t respond he bites his lips nervously. “I’m sorry.”

Her brow raised, and she looked at him as if she didn’t comprehend what he was saying.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, louder this time. “I have been a jerk and insensitive to you… I have not been compromising and mean to you and I’m sorry,” he bowed his head. “I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore. I’ll do better, I promise. Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked at his last part of his sentence.

“Leave you? Who said I was leaving you?”

“But you didn’t want to see me?”

Y/n frowned, confused. “When did I say that?”

“Earlier on the phone, I heard you telling your coworker that you didn’t want to see me…” very quietly he added, “that hurt my feelings.” He felt childish but he wanted to be honest.

“I didn’t want to see you is very different from I’m leaving you,” Y/n clarified. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before reaching for the bowl of soup. She blew to cool the spoonful of soup before bringing it to his mouth. “I said that I didn’t want to see you because I knew I would give in and forgive you.”

He swallows the soup before asking, “please forgive me?”

“I saw your face so I already forgave you.”

He couldn’t ignore the cheering in his mind. “Do you really mean it? You forgive me for being a jerk?”

“Yes, you jerk.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But you called yourself that too?” Y/n countered, shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth. “Eat and feel better.”

Kiyoomi smiles, “… kiss me, that would really make me feel better.”

The corner of her lips tugged upward, “you sly jerk…”

He sits up, bringing his face close to hers. “Please, a kiss?”

She pecks his lips.

He pouted, “that’s not a kiss.”

“Yes it is, my lips touched yours.”

He blinked and then frowned, “that was hardly a kiss…”

Y/n raised a brow, challenging him, “then what’s a kiss to you then?”

And he showed her.

He cupped her face, tilting it before pressing his lips against hers. As soon as she gasped, he slipped his tongue in, meeting hers in a tango.

“Omi…” Y/n breathed, pushing him away to catch a breath.

His lips continued to her jaw and down her neck. “Please Y/n…” he begged, tugging at her tucked-in dress shirt. He pulls away and looks at her with dark pupils, waiting for her consent.

She launched at him, knocking him onto his back once more. Her mouth moved hungrily against his as she tugged at his clothes.

“I’m not going anywhere…” he chuckled.

“You will be if you don’t take help take our clothes off…”

Their clothes lay carelessly on the ground seconds later.

Y/n raised herself and straddled his lap. She rocked her hips, gliding her pussy along the length of his cock.

Kiyoomi hissed loudly as his hands gripped her hip tightly, nails digging into her hip bone. “Don’t –“ he choked, “don’t tease me…” He didn’t miss the smirk on her lips.

Having enough of not being inside of her already, Kiyoomi flipped them and shifted her underneath him. His hand found one of hers and threaded their fingers together, clasping tightly. He searched her eyes and she answered by lifting her hips.

“Haa, you’re going to be the death of me,” he sank his cock into her sweet pussy.

He waited a few seconds, savoring the intimate bond. Kiyoomi peers down at her before pressing his forehead against hers and without breaking eye contact, he whispers, “I love you.”

He doesn’t express those three words as frequently as he ought to, but he can observe the way her eyes illuminate when he does. “I love you, Y/n…” he repeated, rocking his hips slowly but deeply. “I know I don’t say it often enough for you but you are my everything… and I never want to be without you again…”

Y/n released a soft whimper and cupped his face, connecting their lips. “I love you too, Omi…”

It was soft lovemaking.

Each rock of his hips was gentle with care, with love.

“Let’s cum together?”

Y/n nodded, tightening her arms around his shoulders and soon their bodies trembled in release.

Kiyoomi pulls Y/n up and they sit down, still connected very intimately. He reached for the bag of chocolate, took a piece, and unwrapped it before placing it into her mouth. Then, he helped himself to a piece as well.

“Thank you for the chocolate,” he murmurs.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Omi.”

. . .

E/n: Going back to Teo now...

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #sakusa smut #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa fluff #sakusa angst #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #haikyuu sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

I Hate How Much I Want You | Frankie Morales x Reader | Enemies to Lovers Part 2

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.

Specific warnings: Enemies to Lovers, Food mention, weed and cigarettes mention/smoking, Frankie grovels, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), unprotected PiV (reader is on BC and trust around STI’s implied), Softdom!Reader, Switch Frankie, Use of “zorra(slut)” and general filthy mouth from Frankie, Florida Humidity.

Let me know if I missed anything!

[AO3 Link]

Thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta-ing this real quick. Thank you for the encouragement from @merz-8 @noxturnalpascal @covetyou @strang3lov3 @beefrobeefcal @medellintangerine and @speckledemerald for all your horny support <;3

Word count: 6k  

Frankie Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3

You did it, you texted him back embarrassingly quickly. Slick fingers fumbling with your phone to pause your porn as his message came through. You had been seconds away from coming. You can’t believe he still wants to help after you ejected him so forcefully him from your home. You send him a text, just about managing with one hand as you continue to toy with your clit. Francisco Morales is not about to cock block your hard-earned orgasm.

You: Fine, I’m free all day.

You’re about to swipe back to your porn when you see him starting to type away immediately. You bite your lip, your spine tingles as you slowly build yourself back up to your peak. 

Frankie: I’ll pick up the parts and some lunch, see you at 12. 

You don’t respond, nor do you resume the video. Instead, you opt to think about Frankie as you increase the pressure on your clit. The way his muscles flexed under the dark tank top he wore, his salt and pepper waves that curl slightly at the ends. You imagine what it’d be like to have him pressed against your back, bending you over the counter as he fucked you from behind. You ache to feel his scruff scrape along your jaw as he whispers filth in your ear. 

You’re coming hard in seconds, Frankie’s name on your lips as you feel your slick drip down the curve of your ass. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you tilt your head back, stretching out in post-orgasmic bliss. You eventually get up, making sure to pee and clean up before settling back down under your sheets. 

You’ve never been so excited to see Frankie before, in fact, you often dread it.

It seems that there really is a first time for everything. 

~*~

Frankie sits in his truck, parked down the street from your house. The clock on his dash reads 11:47. 

He’s early. 

Just like you, he’s way too excited to be back here. His fingertips itch as he tries to decide if he should just bite the bullet and leave his truck now. It wouldn’t be seen as over-eager, surely? He’s just making good on a promise to a friend. 

Except you’re not his friend, he has made that pretty clear over the last few months. Anxiety churns in his stomach as he wishes he’d brought something to smoke with him. Even a cigarette would suffice. Instead, he’s chewing his lip, torn up over you and the way you looked so desperately hurt last night. He removes his ball cap with one hand before running his fingers through his damp waves, the Florida humidity doing a number on his hair.

He looks over to the plastic bag from the DIY store and his spare toolkit. He sighs as he sees not one, not two, but the three different faucets he had picked out for you. He tries to reason it that he’s just giving you options because it’s the nice thing to do. Really, he just wanted to please you, make amends for his shitty behaviour. Then he looks at the takeout bag in his lap and his stomach growls. 

“Fuck it.” 

He sighs to himself as he replaces his hat before grabbing the bag of faucets and his toolkit as he heads out of the cab. 

He ignores the clock on the dash that reminds him it’s only 11:50. 

~*~

The knock at your door startles you, before you grumble internally once again over the fact Frankie is spurning your perfectly good doorbell. But your annoyance is quickly muted by the smugness that comes with a sudden realisation. 

He’s early.

You almost dance on the spot with morbid amusement at the fact that Frankie is already here. You don’t bother lingering this time, practically sprinting to the door to gloat. You pull the door open in one smooth motion and your witty remark dies on your lips. 

It’s unfair how good he looks. There’s you, in your jean shorts and tank top, suffering from the extreme humidity. Your skin is sticky, your brow is beading with sweat, and you shift uncomfortably as you feel the wet heat pool in your core. 

Then, there’s Frankie, a light sheen to his skin as his toolkit hangs off his shoulder, his hair sticks to his forehead and neck. His thick thighs fill his cargo shorts as his belly swells a little over his white tank top. No over-shirt today so you have an unhindered, front row seat to the way his tan skin flexes over his strong arms. Not to mention his neck, thick and freckled. Fuck, you need to stop staring. 

His face is flushed, cheeks rosy as he looks you over. There’s a darkness to his gaze that makes you shiver. Clearly neither of you are being subtle. 

“So, the sink?” You squeak, your voice embarrassingly high-pitched as you turn away, your heart is hammering in your chest as you try and calm down. 

“Sure, I got you a few different options to choose from,” Frankie explains as he trails behind you. 

You can feel him, the heat rolling off him is palpable as he shadows your every move. 

“You could have just gotten me the one, I’m not fussy,” you say without thinking as you lean against the counter next to the sink, you look up to see Frankie looking a little crest-fallen and you course correct, “But thank you, that was kind.” 

“My pleasure,” Frankie says as he sets down the various bags on the kitchen table, “Don’t have to stick around, I promise not to fuck it up.” 

“I’ve got nothing better to do,” you say with a shrug as you notice the takeout bag, it’s from your favourite burger place. 

He remembered? 

Frankie says nothing more as he resumes his place on the floor from last night. He gets to work, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrates. His hat rests next to him on the floor. It’s almost domestic, him fixing your sink as you watch.

You feel a twinge of remorse in your chest as you see the way he can’t keep your gaze. His eyes flit to you every few minutes, as if he can feel you staring. You head to the fridge and grab a pitcher of iced tea, grabbing two glasses from the cabinets. You set down one of the glasses next to Frankie’s cap on the floor. 

“I’m real sorry about things went yesterday-,” Frankie starts just as you pipe up.

“About last night-,” you say but you both freeze, eyes locking across the small kitchen, and you can’t help but mirror the smirk that spreads across Frankie’s plush lips.  

“Go on, you first,” you insist as you take a deliberate sip of your iced tea. 

“I just want you to know I am sorry you heard that shit I said to Will and Alyssa,” Frankie says with a sigh as he rocks up onto his feet, “, I was in a real bad place.” 

“That’s not a real apology, Morales,” you say with a smile, appreciating his honesty if nothing else, “Go on.” 

“Right,” he nods as he rifles through the plastic bag with the faucets, “First up, which one?” 

You cross the short distance and admire the three different options. All options are fairly modern looking, but you linger for a while, selfishly getting closer to Frankie as you pretend to contemplate the options seriously. In reality you don’t care, you just want a working sink. You also just want to be in Frankie’s orbit. 

“I like this one,” you say softly, your voice a little husky. You place your hand on the plastic packaging lightly, fingertips lingering as you look up into Frankie’s dark eyes.  

“Yeah, that was my first choice too,” he says as he picks up the package, his fingertips brush yours and you don’t pull away, letting the callouses on his hands scrape against the back of your hand. You see the way his neck tenses as you fawn up at him.  

“Who knew you had good taste?” You tease as you step away. 

“Full of surprises, me,” Frankie says with a low chuckle as he clears his throat. 

“On that note,” you say with a coy smile as you lean back against the counter, “You were grovelling?” 

There’s a brief flash of emotion on Frankie’s face as he picks up his hat, securing it on his head as he grabs his glass of iced tea. His jaw ticks to the side as he takes a long gulp of the sweet drink. 

“Right,” he says as he sets the glass down, turning back to the faucet as he disconnects the old one, “I was an ass,” he says with a sigh as his thick fingers make easy work with the tools and various intricacies of the faucet, “I can’t take it back, but I do want to say I’m sorry, for how I made you feel, and for the things I said.” 

“I appreciate that, thank you,” you say with a nod, “I didn’t mean to ambush you like that last night either, I’m sorry too, you were doing me a solid.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Frankie says with a huff, “I had it coming.” 

“Maybe,” you concede with a smile, “But I don’t think I was completely fair, you’ve had your own share of shit to deal with.” 

“My addiction, and my recovery, are my burdens. No-one else’s,” Frankie says with a stern look on his face. You hate how the shift in his tone makes you squirm; you know he’s not telling you off, but it doesn’t feel any less authoritative. 

“Understood,” you nod as you gesture vaguely with your hand, urging him to continue. 

“But I don’t do well with change,” he says as he continues working, looking away from you, “And Santi brought you into the group without so much as a heads up. I got defensive, I fell into an ugly pattern of behaviours. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s very big of you, thank you.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he says with a shrug as he stretches with a groan, “Looks like it’s good to go.” 

You hover at his elbow as he tests the tap, the water flows freely and stops abruptly when Frankie flicks it off. The sound of running water halts and you’re left with your hip brushing Frankie’s thigh.

“I really appreciate you doing this, Frankie,” you say, nudging his side with your elbow as you look up to see his eyes already locked on you. He’s leaning his one arm on the counter as he towers over you, and you can’t help but clench your thighs. 

“Like I said,” he mumbles as he turns his body towards you. His tongue glides across his lower lip and you can’t ignore the charged energy between you now, “Just helping out a friend.” 

“It’s not just about the sink, Frankie,” you say as you tentatively brush your fingertips over his hand. 

“Oh? What else is this about?” He asks and there’s a light dancing behind his eyes, a smugness that tells you he already knows but he wants you to say it. 

“There’s another reason why I’ve been keeping my distance,” you admit softly as you inch closer to him. 

“That right?” Frankie breathes, his voice shaky as he threads his fingers through yours. You can’t believe it, the shift in your dynamic is giving you whiplash. 

“Despite everything, Morales,” you say as you bring your other hand up to rest on his sternum. The contact sends heat rippling through your body as Frankie hums deep in his chest, “I think you’re a good guy, and really fucking hot.” 

“Yeah?” He rumbles, his free hand coming up to trail up your bicep the contact makes you shiver as you try to stifle a whine, “You think I’m hot?” 

“I’m not saying it again,” you say with a little bite to your tone, “But I had to keep my distance, I didn’t want to get hurt.” 

“I understand,” Frankie says with a subtle nod, his fingertips skimming your collarbone now, your cunt clenches in anticipation, “I never meant to hurt you.” 

“Well, you did,” you say as you slide your hand up to cup his jaw, “But you can make it up to me, if you want?” 

“Yeah?” Frankie rasps as he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. 

“I want you to tell me what you want, Francisco,” you say softly as your fingertips move to the back of his head, threading through the damp hair there as you tug lightly, “If you want me so bad, I want you to beg.” 

Frankie’s jaw falls slack as a strangled groan bubbles forth from the back of his throat. His half-hard cock stirs in his shorts as you close the gap between you both, pressing yourself against him. Your nipples harden as you feel the way his body shudders under your touch. 

“I want to fuck you,” Frankie’s voice is a hushed rasp as he ghosts his fingertips along the angle of your jaw, “I want to make you scream,” he continues as the calloused pad of his thumb brushes against your lips, “I want to please you, querida.” 

“Yeah?” You purse your lips against Frankie’s thumb, your lips tingling at the promise his touch brings, “You think you deserve to have me, Francisco? Do you think you can make good on your promises?” 

“I will, or I’ll die trying,” his other hand tugs on your own, pulling you against him as he flattens his palm against the small of your back, “Let me try, please.” 

You slowly open your mouth, tongue teasing against his thumb as you wrap your lips around the thick digit. A soft moan escapes you as you suck slowly, purposefully, as you maintain eye contact with Frankie. His eyes are glassy as he whines, brow furrowed as you release his thumb with a lewd pop.

“Bedroom, now.” 

You order as you push back from Frankie, the sudden action jarring enough that you slip his grasp. A determined growl rumbles from behind you as you stride towards the stairs. You don’t bother looking back over your shoulder, you can hear his heavy footsteps gaining on you and there’s a primal thrill to it. You pick up the pace, practically jogging to your open bedroom door as adrenaline and arousal scorch through your veins. 

You’re almost over the threshold when you feel the press of his palms on your waist as he pulls you back against him. You don’t have time to proffer a witty remark before Frankie’s mouth is on your throat. The rough scratch of his facial hair along the slope of your shoulder has you squirming as he nudges your head to the side with his strong nose. 

“Going to make you feel so good,” Frankie says with a growl before sucking gently against the column of your neck. His one hand trails down your front and you gasp as he cups your sex through your shorts. His thick fingers tease at the denim where it covers your aching cunt; fingertips swirling over your clothed core, and you can’t help the desperate little sounds you make as pleasure rocks through you. 

“Frankie, please.” 

You yelp as his teeth nip at the shell of your ear and your panties cling to your cunt, you’re dripping for him.

“Call me Francisco, please,” he huffs into your ear as he walks you forward, “Sounds so good when you say my name.” 

“Yeah? You like it when I beg you to fuck me, Francisco?” You ask as your knees hit the edge of the bed, but you stop yourself from falling forward just yet. You know that’s what Frankie wants, but you’re not about to give over control just yet. You feel him straining against you, not wanting to manhandle you aggressively it seems, but you can feel the need in the way his cock presses against your ass. 

“I do,” he whispers in your ear, “Let me show you how sorry I am, querida.” 

“Show me, Francisco, let’s see if you can make me scream your name,” you lean back as you speak, pressing your cheek against his. 

His lips brush against yours as he angles his head down to you, it’s like being struck by lightning. You gasp as he kisses you, almost tenderly, before you let go completely. You kiss him back, pulling his lower lip between your teeth. You’re rewarded with a sharp intake of breath as his lips part for you. You lick into his mouth teasingly, asking for permission and he slots his mouth over yours in response. 

His tongue slides into your mouth, dancing with your own as he tastes you. His groans rumbling through you as he delves deeper past your lips, mapping you out, claiming you. You’re pliable beneath his large hands as you feel him bending you at the hip. The hand cupping your sex increases the pressure. The heel of his palm grinds against your clothed clit as his fingertips knead at where your shorts are beginning to soak through. 

“On your front,” Frankie growls as he places a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

You do as he says, flopping forward onto the bed as gracefully as you can with his large hand still working at you through your shorts. It’s been a while since you last let someone take relative control in the bedroom. Often, you’re used to dictating the pace, your partners needing gentle encouragement – or sometimes a very firm hand – to ensure you got what you need from sex. But this is different, Frankie is different. 

There’s a pause as Frankie removes his hand from your cunt, and you’re about to turn over and ask what the hold up is, when his hot palms spread you out. His fingers digging into the backs of your knees as he opens you up. 

“Frankie, what are you-?” 

You practically choke on your words as you feel him press his face into the apex of your thighs. He buries himself against the damp crotch of your shorts and inhales as he grinds his nose against your core. 

“Fuck,” he hisses as you feel him mouth against your covered cunt, his hands travel up the backs of your thighs as he holds you open for him. You squirm at the depravity of his thick fingers pinning you down, his face pressed hard against such a sensitive spot. Being fully clothed only makes you wetter, like there’s something even more profane about the action while your shorts cling tight to your desperate pussy. 

“Frankie please,” you whine, and you can’t stop yourself, you didn’t think you’d be begging so quickly, so easily for someone you were ready to kick to the curb only yesterday. 

“What do you want?” Frankie asks as his fingertips slip under the hem of your shorts, trailing over the swell of your ass. 

“I want your mouth on my cunt, take my shorts off,” you huff into the sheets as you feel the heat burn over your cheekbones. 

“Yes ma’am,” Frankie growls as he places a kiss to your inner thigh before his hands are on your hips, “Turn over for me.” 

You carefully rotate your body, mindful not to kick Frankie in the face in your eagerness. You lie back and you clench around nothing at the way Frankie is looking at you. His eyes are glassy and blown out with desire, his face is pink in places where the denim of your shorts has irritated his skin. You lower your gaze to see the painfully obvious bulge in his shorts and you swallow around the lump in your throat. 

He’s big. 

“So pretty like this,” he says absently as he rakes his eyes over your body. You’re still fully clothed but you’ve never felt so bare in your life. 

“Frankie-,” you’re about to beg again when he makes a face at you as he hisses between his teeth. 

“Please, call me Francisco, I really like it when you do,” there’s a hint of a challenge in his voice and you nod slowly as you stare him down. 

“Please, Francisco,” you say as you bring both hands up to grope your tits over your tank top, “Show me how good you are with that dirty mouth of yours,” you spread your legs wide for him as you speak, and the way Frankie’s nostrils flare makes you squirm. 

Frankie settles himself down between your thighs as he throws his cap off to the side. It hits the floor with a soft thud, but you aren’t focusing on the hat anymore. Frankie’s calloused hands trail up from your knees, scraping deliciously against the soft skin of your inner thighs. He dips his fingertips under the denim once more and you feel him shudder as they brush the outline of your lace panties. 

“Don’t tell me you wore something nice for me?” He asks as he smirks up at you, his cheek resting on your right thigh as he waits for your response. 

“No, Francisco, I wanted to wear lacey panties in the middle of summer in Florida, I like the way wet lace chafes just right.” 

You’re taunting him and the way his cheek dimples, you know he’s loving it as much as you are. 

“Poor baby,” he hums softly as he brings one hand up to pop the button of your shorts open, “Let me help you out. Let’s get rid of those wet panties, yeah?” 

You don’t answer, the condescending tone of his voice makes your head fuzzy. You’re so used to being the one doing all the talking, it’s a blissful role reversal for you. You watch as Frankie slowly pulls on the zipper before you lift your ass for him to tug the oppressively tight fabric down. You keen upwards as you feel the humid air hit your slick panties. 

“Fu-uck,” Frankie rasps as he drops your shorts to the side of the bed, his eyes firmly fixed on the slick, glistening lace just inches from his face, “I’d ask if this was all for me,” he says as he lowers his mouth to your lace-covered sex, “But I think we both know it is.” 

You don’t have time to make a snide comment, nor do you think you could with how blissed out you are. Frankie’s lips latch onto your clothed clit and you cry out as his hot tongue swirls slow, lazy circles over the already drenched fabric. 

“Francisco,” you cry out as he pressures your clit just right, you see stars behind your eyelids. You’re embarrassingly close already. 

“So sensitive,” he hums as he teases a finger up and down the thin strip of lace covering your core, “So wet.”

You’re about to beg again when you feel the drag of his rough fingertips slide under the seam of your panties. You arch up, your head falling back against the sheets as you once again feel the warm air hit your slick cunt. You hiss a little as the fabric that clings to you peels away with a sharp pinch. 

“S’okay, I got you,” Frankie whispers as he rolls your panties off your feet, you force your eyes open, looking down just as he swipes his tongue through your folds. It’s slow, deliberate, and makes your toes curl as the hot drag culminates with his plush lips kissing your clit. The press of his mouth on your most sensitive spot punches a strangled moan from your chest. 

“Fuck yes,” you whimper, “Fuck yes, Francisco.” 

He doesn’t answer verbally, instead he teases your clit in soft, barely-there flicks of his tongue as he sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth. The pleasure shoots through you as you writhe under him. He shifts slightly, draping your calves over his broad shoulders as he presses his whole face against your cunt. 

“So fucking sweet,” he snarls as you feel him shake his head back and forth, lapping at your clit as he moves. 

“Fra-,” you stutter, unable to form his full name, pleasure driving every conscious thought from your mind as you build to your peak.

“Go on, come for me,” he goads you as he holds you down with one of his strong arms. You feel the weight of it pin you down as you try and buck your hips. Your spine tingles with every flick of his tongue, every groan that vibrates through your clit. 

“I’m-,” you cry out, loud and throaty as you clench around nothing, your gasping pleas filling the room as you come hard. You whine and scream as Frankie keeps going as your body is rocked with overstimulation. 

“So pretty when you come querida,” he says softly as he eases off, peppering your slick folds and clit with gentle, teasing kisses, “Can you give me another?” 

“Francisco,” you gasp as you feel two thick fingers tease at your entrance, “Want your dick, please.” 

“So eager,” he chuckles softly as he eases the tips of his fingers inside you, teasing little pulses right at your entrance that have you arching your back as you whine in frustrated overstimulation, “Where is the fire from earlier? I thought you were in control querida?” 

“Fuck you,” you hiss but there’s no bite in it, you know he’s right. You love that he’s right. It’s the kind of fuck you’ve been wanting for years, the kind where you can just let go, let him take what he needs from you while simultaneously giving you more than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Like I said,” he smirks up at you as you struggle to keep your eyes open, “Come for me again and I will.” 

“Stop teasing me and fuck me with your fingers, Morales,” you snap, wresting for some control of the situation. 

“There she is, my little zorra,” Frankie hums in triumph as he eases his thick fingers inside you. You want to ask him what that means but you’re blinded by the way he sinks all the way down to the knuckle in one swift motion. 

You moan at the way he doesn’t let you adjust, your slick walls already accommodating them with minimal effort. He curls them up as he drags them slowly in and out of you, pushing and pulling at that sensitive spot that makes your whole body twitch. Every time he hits it, he smirks, gauging your reaction as he works you right back to the blinding peak. 

“God! Your pussy feels so good, squeezing my fingers so tight,” Frankie babbles, as if to himself before flicking the blunt tip of his tongue against your clit, “Come for me.” 

You clamp down hard on his fingers as his verbal command sends you reeling. Your mouth is dry as you cry out soundlessly. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as he fucks you through your orgasm. The languid pace careful, controlled, as he works you through it. 

“There you go,” he says softly, his lips brushing against the inside of your thigh as he slowly eases out of you, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 

You want to say something, anything, but all you can do is gulp in deep breaths as you try and ground yourself. You stare up at the ceiling for what feels like an eternity before you feel the soothing touch of Frankie’s fingers tracing patterns on your thigh. 

“Back in the room?” He asks you with a smirk as he lies there, his cheek pressed against your knee as he simply watches you. 

“Yeah,” you nod with earnest, “That was just fucking amazing,” you chuckle, and you’re rewarded with a deep rumble of satisfaction from Frankie’s chest. 

“Good,” he says airily as he nuzzles his nose against your sensitive skin, “Want to keep going?” 

“Fuck yes,” you huff through your nose as you prop yourself up on your elbows, “Just needed to catch my breath.” 

“You got condoms?” Frankie asks and you’re suddenly sobered at the request. You’re so caught up in the moment you didn’t even think about using one. 

“I do,” you say but you raise an eyebrow at him, “Do you trust me, Francisco?” 

“Yes,” he says with a questioning look on his face as he palms his cock through his shorts, “Why?” 

“I’m on the pill,” you say as you retreat backwards up the bed, “C’mere,” you say with a curl of your index finger and Frankie moves without hesitation, still fully clothed as you spread your legs for him. 

“You been checked recently, Francisco?” You ask as he kneels between your legs, leaning back on his calves as he looks at you with a wry expression on his lips. 

“A few months ago, all clear,” he says cautiously as he runs his one hand through his slick hair, “Why, you want me to take you raw?” 

You stifle a groan at the harsh language, you’re regaining control over the dynamic slowly. No way are you breaking stride now. 

“No, Francisco,” you purr as you manoeuvre up onto your knees, meeting his gaze as you toy with the hem of his tank top, “I want to ride you raw.” 

Frankie’s mouth drops open as you push up the edge of his tank top, forcing it up to his armpits as you lock and suck at the swell of his belly. He pulls it up and over his head as he watches you with wide eyes. 

He’s sweaty and musky on your tongue as you follow the light curls of his happy trail. You press your nose against his belly as you unbutton his shorts. You whine at the sight of his grey boxer briefs, and the way the fabric darkens over the head of his cock. 

“Look at you,” you coo as you palm his length, “Francisco, you’ve been holding out on me,” you say with a smirk as you look up into his lust-blown eyes. He stammers as you cup his balls through his briefs and press a kiss to the tip of his clothed dick. You know he won’t last long, but you can’t help but tease him a little. 

“Strip for me,” you whisper against the side of his shaft as you squeeze his balls gently. He groans softly before you pull away, already stripping your tank top and bra as you watch him do as he’s told. His eyes are glassy, it’s as if a switch has flipped in his brain. The realisation hits you immediately. 

Frankie likes this. He likes being told what to do. 

He pulls his briefs down in one swift motion, letting his thick cock spring free and slapping wetly against his abdomen as he hurriedly pushes his briefs and shorts past his knees. He resumes his position on the bed, kneeling as he rests on his laurels. You salivate at the sight of him, his foreskin straining against the head of his cock.

“Good boy,” you breathe, stomach churning delightfully as you see the way Frankie pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, “Legs out,” you gesture for him to straighten his legs and he obeys almost comically fast. 

You crawl forward, hands sliding up over his shoulders. Immediately his hands fall to your hips, steadying you as you hover over his lap. It’s surely far too intimate – fucking like this – especially considering how you were at each other’s throats only yesterday. But there’s something about it all that just feels right. You press your forehead against Frankie’s, closing your eyes as his tip notches at your core. 

“Oh fuck,” you hiss as you sink down onto his cock, your slick walls clamp down around the intrusion as you split yourself open with his dick. You whine as you reach the base, you’re so full, so snug around his cock. 

“Fu-uck,” Frankie echoes as he curls his arms around you pinning you against him, keeping you so impossibly close. You drop your head to rest in the crook of Frankie’s neck. Your lips latching onto his slick skin as you clench hard around him. 

“I’m going to move,” you whisper against Frankie’s neck, “Let me use you, Frankie, want to fuck myself on your cock.” 

“Please,” he whispers, as you nip along his jaw, “Use me.”

You whimper as you begin to roll your hips forward, lifting up as you savour every inch of his cock raking through you. You catch yourself just before he slips out of you, lingering for a moment, then pushing yourself back down. You cry out at the abrupt stretch as discomfort cedes to pleasure. Frankie’s grip tightens on your waist as you repeat the action again and again. 

Each time more and more pleasure rocks through you as you use Frankie’s cock. You know he’s close, his brow is furrowed, and his breaths come in ragged gasps. You’re griding his cock inside you as you lean down to whisper in his ear. 

“Fuck me, Francisco,” you say, “Make me scream.” 

He groans at the sudden permission to fuck you, body curling around you as he pitches you backwards. He stays buried deep as you’re pushed down into the pillows, your thighs pressed against your chest as Frankie gets you how he wants you. 

“Fuck. I’ve wanted this for so long,” Frankie snarls in your ear as he starts to move, his pace picking up rapidly. 

“Me too,” you moan as he nudges your g-spot over and over again. You’re whining at every snap of his hips as pleasure arcs through you. Your fingertips dig into his back muscles as you cling to him. He snaps his hips harder and harder until you can’t hold on any longer.

“Francisco!” you cry out as you come hard around his length, your slick walls clamping down hard as you feel him stutter beneath you. He fucks down into you a few more times before he lets out a tight groan as he empties himself inside you. His hips still, your chests pressed together as you grin at one another. 

You lie there for a few moments as you both try and catch your breath. Neither of you can stop smiling as you feel Frankie ease his soft cock out of you. 

“We need to clean up and we both need to pee,” you say lazily as you roll onto your side. Frankie flops down next to you, a soft oof escaping his lips as he hits the mattress. 

“We do,” he agrees as he brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheekbone, “You, ok?” 

“Yeah, I’m good, more than good,” you babble as Frankie smiles at you, cheek dimpling delightfully. 

“Good,” he says with a soft nod. 

There’s so much hanging in the air between you. More than you can worry about right now. 

“Let’s get a shower and replace the burgers you brought,” you say as you force yourself up, heading to the bathroom. 

“It’s not my fault they’re inedible now,” Frankie grumbles playfully and you smile at him over your shoulder. 

“Whatever,” you stick your tongue out at him as you turn on the shower, “Come on, we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Alright, but I’m not the one telling Santi about us,” Frankie growls as he catches up to you, wrapping his arms around you as he nuzzles against the back of your head, “I’ll never live it down.” 

“Fine,” you agree with a smirk playing across your lips, “That means you have to tell the Millers.” 

The statement hangs heavy in the air before Frankie curses under his breath. He realises too late his mistake and you just smile, leaning back into your former arch-nemesis’ arms, wondering how you got here; and what here even is. But you are sure of one thing.

Now you’ve had a taste of Frankie Morales, you’re never letting him go. 

Frankie Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3

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[ellephlox]

Muted Dawn

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Summary: You get mugged in the middle of the night, but Matt isn't there to save you.

Warnings: mugging, canon-typical violence, swearing, injuries, physical/verbal assault

In mid-summer, the midnight air of New York had a surreal balminess to it. You wore a tank top and a thin red jacket on top, your suitcase rolling loudly behind you as you hurried down the sidewalk. Every crack, every pebble, every sewer grate — they were all thunderclaps compared to the otherwise quiet evening. The luggage was too heavy to carry, though, so it would have to roll behind you.

It was a long day. You'd flown out to visit family, and your return flight was supposed to be midday. It had been cancelled, though, leaving you to scramble for a layover that could get you to New York by morning. It was a complete shit show, and you'd had to sprint to your gates at the airport with this stupid shitty suitcase that you were half-tempted to just dump in the garbage.

Matt still thought you'd arrived in the evening. He texted you earlier that he had a case to work on with Foggy, and that he'd be up in the office plowing through work, probably until early morning.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you'd actually touched down in New York at eleven p.m. because that would be a surefire way to pull Matt out of work to meet you at the airport. Dragging him from his responsibilities — which were already too numerous — was the last thing you wanted.

So, solo travel in the middle of the night was your only option. You took the airport train to the nearest station, and from there took a train, and from there took another train that deposited you at 50th Street. Matt's apartment was only a ten minute walk, tops, from the station. Just a short walk. Too short to justify calling an Uber, mostly because you didn't exactly have a lot of money left in your wallet and your next paycheck wasn't for another few days.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump—

"Shit," you said aloud, staring between your luggage wheels and the sidewalk, which had switched from mildly smooth to practically cobbled. That didn't bode well for your plan to walk quietly back to the apartment. You snapped the handle down and tried to carry the suitcase again, but managed only to go a few steps before your arm felt as though it were going to break off. "Come on."

"Need some help?" The voice that came from the shadows was most definitely not Matt's, and goosebumps ran down your arms immediately. You didn't bother answering; it was always best to ignore anyone who tried talking to you on the streets of Hell's Kitchen. To regain some speed you pulled your handle back out — no sense in trying to be quiet now — and continued on your way, the thumps more rapid this time as you picked up the pace.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump—

"I asked you a question, darling." To your horror, mingled with the sound of your suitcase wheels smashing along the sidewalk were now footsteps, and a figure appeared in the corner of your eye.

"You gonna answer? Not very nice of you." He jogged in front of you, blocking your way effectively, and now you could properly see him. He was pale — practically pasty in the moonlight — and wore a sweatshirt so stained it might as well have been a used napkin at a greasy fast food joint. He had a beard, untamed and straggly, and despite the wild look to him that suggested he was hungry, he was big. Most definitely someone you didn't want to try taking on in a fight.

"Get the hell out of my way," you snapped at him.

"I want to see what's in that suitcase. It's making a hell of a racket."

"Sorry to disappoint." You tried to weave your way around him, but he stepped in front of you again.

Damn it. You suddenly regretted not texting Matt about your late arrival. If you had, you wouldn't be alone on the street right now — Matt would have been beside you — and this wouldn't be happening. Fear, potent and throbbing, swirled in your stomach like a dense fog. You felt like a wild animal, ensnared in a trap with nowhere to go. You glanced behind you; the street was just as empty and silent, with the few streetlights flickering menacingly as though about to burn out.

"Look, bitch, you want to do this the easy or the hard way?"

"I said, let me get by. I don't want any trouble."

"Trouble?" he said, then laughed, scanning you from head to toe. "You look like little Red Riding Hood. What're you going to do?"

"I can scream. People will come and you'll be in deep shit."

"You're a fucking idiot if you think that. These back streets of Hell's Kitchen are the furthest you can get from help, darling."

"Unless the devil hears me," you breathed out, depending on the hope that this man had heard of Matt's other persona. "Then I have a good feeling your legs will get broken. You heard of him?"

Except the devil wasn't out tonight. He was instead filing paperwork, far away on the other end of the Kitchen, and probably wearing a suit. Unless the man in front of you fell for the bluff... you were thoroughly screwed.

But the man pulled out a gun, which you had not been expecting. "Devil ain't out here. No one's seen him in a few days. Hard way it is, then. You scream, darling, and I'll shoot you between the eyes."

You froze. Never had you felt so helpless in your life. Your heart was banging against your chest like a frantic bird, trying to escape, and yet your limbs wouldn't move, for fear of that black weapon pointing directly at your head. "Please," you said finally, the word coming out in a rasp. "I just want to go home."

"And you can, once you gimme what I want." The man pointed the gun at the suitcase. "Open it up."

You trembled slightly. Should you try fighting him? Sure, Matt had taught you some basic self-defense, but this man had a gun. What could you do against that? Maybe you could try grabbing the gun, or kicking it from his hands, but... that was ridiculous. You had hardly any training. Most likely you'd end up falling on your ass, and then the guy would put a bullet in you.

No, your best chance was to comply. Slowly you bent down and fumbled with the clasp of the suitcase, your hands shaking so hard that it wouldn't open up.

"I said open it!" the man demanded, jabbing the gun against your temple. It was cold and hard, and against your volition you yelped, squeezing your eyes shut. When the bullet didn't come, you slowly opened your eyes, and resumed your struggle with the clasp, finally popping it open. Shame grazed your face as you opened the luggage to unfolded laundry and toiletries haphazardly thrown in; not that this man cared, but somehow you felt as though your last shred of dignity was chewed up and spat on.

Maybe Matt would finish his paperwork early and put on the suit. Maybe he could hear you, right now, and he was on his way, leaping across rooftops. But no one was coming, and you stepped back, allowing the man to root through your belongings. He stooped over the suitcase, his gun now dangling at your side. You eyed him. Though you weren't exactly fast, especially compared to Matt, maybe you could make a break for it, and at least get away. Your suitcase was a lost cause at this point, but frankly, you didn't care.

Do it. Now. While he's distracted. Before you could lose your nerve, you took off, terror burning in your veins and making you pump your arms as hard as you could. You were only a few blocks from home, not far at all —

But footsteps rang behind you, heavy and faster than you. You chanced a look over your shoulder, and hardly had time to react before the man behind you overtook you entirely, tackling you to the sidewalk. Pavement slashed and gnawed against your skin, burning white hot — your cheek, your knees, the palms of your hands.

"Never run away from me like that before I'm done," the man said, in an almost childish way, as though a toy had been taken from him. He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you roughly to your feet. "I'm not finished with you yet."

By this point, tears were flowing down your cheeks, and all sense of shame was gone. Nothing mattered now except surviving, leaving this man and getting into the safety of home. Desperately you thought of the couch, and the shower, and bed, places that had seemed so close just ten minutes ago and now felt impossibly far away. "Please," you begged him. "Please. Take whatever you want, I just want to leave. Please."

He wrenched your arm in response, twisting it back much farther than it wanted to go. You shrieked, thinking that your arm must be broken, but then he let go and slapped your face, right across the cheek that still burned from the fall.

"Quiet!" he said roughly. "Let me finish." He kept his grip on your arm as he bent down to return to the suitcase, and you were yanked off your feet, falling to the ground like some absurd doll in the hands of an aggressive six-year-old. You didn't watch closely what the man took, because your vision was too blurred, but a dazed glance downwards told you that your laptop, earbuds, and jewelry were gone.

"Where's your wallet?" he asked, turning back to you. You didn't question him at all and reached into your pocket, your fingertips searching obediently for the wallet. Where are you, Matt? The man wasn't patient, though, and plunged his hand into your pocket to take over. You stayed stock still, the feeling of his hand against your thigh more disturbing than you could have predicted, as he extracted the wallet, then your phone, and pushed you away.

"Now here's what's going to happen," he said, pulling the gun out again. "I'm gonna let you live, because bodies are hard to take care of. But if you try squealing, if you go running off to a cop — if you tell anyone at all, I swear I'm going to find you and kill you." He took out your license and read it aloud — your name, your height, your weight, your address. "See, darling, I know everything about you. And if I get a whiff that you've tried telling someone about this little exchange we had tonight, I'll come to your address, and I'll slit your throat. Got it, darling?"

You nodded violently.

"Now get out of here," he said, and shoved you one last time. You didn't hesitate, and ran.

He could have taken more. Your clothing, your bracelet from Matt that you wore, your body, your life. All those you still had. The things he'd taken were meaningless, just trinkets. Things you could buy again.

But this reasoning didn't comfort you at all, and the moment you were in the safety of the apartment, with the door locked, you broke down altogether. You could hardly breathe, and every two seconds you ran to the window to check the street, certain that you'd see that stained sweatshirt ambling along the sidewalk, or hear a sudden knock at the door. Your phone was gone, so there was no way to call 911 if you needed to. And Matt wouldn't be able to reach you, either. You wished, like never before, that you could have his hearing. The ability to know when Matt was on his way back, and to hear him coming down the sidewalk, would be infinitely comforting; even more so would be the assurance that you'd hear that man who mugged you if he decided to come to the apartment.

But all you could hear was the whir of the refrigerator and your own shallow breaths.

It was therefore a heart-wrenching shock when you heard the deadbolt unlock, maybe an hour later. Maybe two hours later, or three. You weren't sure; time was a vortex, or even a black hole, with an event horizon so monstrous that everything was sucked into it.

Matt's home. As if you were dropped into an icy bath, you suddenly leapt to your feet. You hadn't showered. Your clothing was torn at the knees, and that man's scent was probably all over you, not to mention blood was smeared across your face and hands from the scrapes. Not good. Not good at all.

You ran into the bathroom just as the front door sprung open, and you only caught the smallest glimpse of the storm cloud of emotion already on Matt's face before you slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it.

Why, exactly, you were hiding from him, when there was no doubt he could smell the man and blood either way, wasn't clear to you. Maybe it was the shame of him seeing you like this. He was so capable, so responsible, and to sense you on the floor like a puddle... it made you feel even worse than you already felt. Yes, you'd wanted Matt to save you, but it was too late now, wasn't it? Now you were just going to be another thing he had to take care of.

So, a shower it was.

Matt's fist pounded on the door. "Y/N? What happened?"

"I'm showering."

"It's two in the morning. I can smell your blood and your heart is flying. What happened?"

This time, it wasn't Matt asking, but the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. You could hear it in the low growl of his voice, the restlessness that simultaneously wanted to defend you as well as throw a punch at something.

"I'm okay, Matt. I'm okay. I just need a minute to clean up," you told him, starting the water. "Please."

"Y/N, if you don't unlock this door, I'm going to knock it off its hinges."

The thought made new tears spring to your eyes all over again. Your money — all gone. You'd have to cancel your credit cards now. And while you'd spent most of your money while visiting family, you'd had at least two twenties in your wallet — forty dollars, now gone, and forty dollars less to fix a broken door with.

Matt must have sensed the tears, because his next words were much gentler. "Whatever happened, you can tell me. I can—"

He fell silent. You peeled off your jacket, examining the scrapes on your hands briefly. Those would sting in the water, undoubtedly. Taking care of them was an imperative. Matt had a case to work on, and a city to save. The thought of him being preoccupied with your damn hands was enough to make you want to throw your fist into the wall with anger. Anger with yourself. How could you have let yourself get mugged? If you'd just called a fucking Uber from the station, then this would never have happened.

Matt said something on the other side of the door, too softly for you to hear.

"Didn't catch that," you said, as casually as possible. Priority number one was making sure Matt didn't know the extent to which you were freaked out.

"I said, who did this?"

"I don't know," you said evenly. It was harder than you thought it would be to keep your voice steady, when every instinct in you wanted to say it with a sob, and to curl back up on the floor. Standing was too hard, listening to Matt was too hard, simply breathing was too hard — every time you closed your eyes, the feeling of the gun against your temple returned to you.

There was a sudden click, and the door swung open. Matt had unlocked it, somehow, and you didn't have the energy to question how he'd done it.

His presence was like a live electric wire as he stepped into the room. You could feel the tension rising within him, threatening to spill over if you didn't give a name or a hint of what happened. You crossed your arms, wishing you'd left your jacket on, even though it didn't make a difference for what Matt could sense about you. The scrape on your face seared angrily and the fleeting thought passed through you that Matt could probably feel the heat of it just as clearly as you.

"I said I was fine," you said finally, keeping your voice controlled. "I told you I needed a minute."

"That doesn't matter when you're hurt. I need to know how hurt. Let me just feel—"

"Matt, please." You were shaking now, and torn between collapsing into his arms and never letting him know the extent to which you were absolutely petrified. Matt froze.

"Do you need me to leave?" he asked softly.

"I... no. I don't know what I need. I need..." A thrill of horror raced through you at the realization that you hadn't checked the window in awhile. What if the man was coming up the street now, on his way to break in and finish the deed with a bullet in your head? A bullet in Matt's head? You brushed by him and hurried to the window, squinting out at the dark.

Matt followed, and this time he didn't wait before coming up right behind you and cupping your cheek with his hand. It was gentle, but not a romantic act — you could feel the way his fingertips grazed over the scrape, accounting for the grit and sweat and blood that adorned it. Unable to bring yourself to move, you stood like a deer in the headlights as his hands then moved to your temples.

"No concussion," he said, but his jaw remained just as tight as he lowered his fingers to your own hands, breezing over them gingerly.

"These scrapes need to be cleaned." His face tensed as his hand hovered near your thigh. "Did he—?"

"No. No, I was just..." Mugged. It was too embarrassing to admit, and the word lodged in your throat. "Just some things were taken. Phone. Wallet. Suitcase."

"Jesus, at seven in the evening? Did anyone see? I want a name. A description. Anything. I'll find him and—"

"It wasn't seven in the evening." You dipped your head, tears welling again. "My plane was delayed."

You feared that he was going to be pissed, but instead he simply looked bemused. "Why didn't you say anything? I would've met you at the airport."

"Because you had work," you said, more stiffly. "And I know that me getting robbed looks bad, but I don't want to be your burden. Foggy needed your help tonight, not me."

"Not you? That's bullshit, Y/N," Matt said, and the electricity that had been buzzing in his movements finally exploded. "The reason I put on the damn suit anyway is because I care about people, including you. And you — you're above the rest, because I love you. Don't you see that? I need this, I need to find whoever did this, because if I don't, then I've failed you. I've failed myself, I've failed the city, I've failed my faith."

"Matt, it's not that serious. I overreacted, that's all."

"Like hell you overreacted. How do you think I felt when I left work and heard your heartbeat from two blocks away, racing like you were staring death in the face? When I got into the apartment and could smell your blood? When I came in here and could taste your fear?"

"I didn't ask you to sense those things," you snapped, and the moment the words were out of your mouth, you regretted them. It wasn't as though you could have simply elected to not see Matt that time he'd arrived at the apartment, torn up and bloody, or simply turned your head when you'd heard him yelling in the hospital as Claire stitched up his guts. In fact, it was impossible to not pay attention even more at times like that. Your mouth was dry as you shook your head. "I'm sorry, Matt. I don't mean that."

Still, he didn't get mad at you. "I know."

And it was that, his patience despite the energy palpitating in his fists that made you sink onto the couch, placing your face in your hands. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I... I can tell you what happened. It's just that admitting it makes it so much more real. It's humiliating."

Matt sat next to you, just shy of touching you. Waiting for your permission, likely. "Who was it?"

"Bearded man. Stained sweatshirt, really large — probably six foot four."

"Where?"

"Three blocks directly west of us."

"How did you get the scrapes?"

You closed your eyes. "I tried to get away. He tackled me. There was a gun, too. He kept it pointed at my head, and — Oh, God. He said if I told anyone, that he'd come here. He's got our address because of my license. He said he'd come here with the gun and—"

"Pointed at your head?" Matt's voice dropped to a dangerous low again, reminiscent of the devil. "You could've been killed." He got to his feet, stalking to the cabinet and unbuttoning his shirt.

"Matt," you said weakly, unsure of how to make the request for him to stay. He wanted to leave. He needed to let out the energy and protect, as was his standard, but you needed him to protect from here. The thought of being alone in the apartment was unbearable; you wanted him by your side, keeping you safe with his presence, not the mask.

"I wasn't there for you." Matt's fists were clenching and unclenching rhythmically as he stood in front of the suit, shirtless. Contemplating, or strategizing? You weren't sure. "I — if he had shot you — I can't—"

"Matt," you said again, louder this time. "I need—"

You were about to say "you" but the energy broiling in Matt's stance made you fall short. He needed to do this. You could be alone for a bit longer, you told yourself. "I need the bandages," you finished. "They're... not in the bathroom."

"They're under the kitchen sink," Matt said, and suddenly he turned around, his expression softer. "Let me help."

Inwardly sighing, you sat on the armchair, hugging your knees, while Matt cleaned your scrapes with a steady hand. He didn't say a word as he worked, his eyes darting about uncharacteristically. You still couldn't get a read on exactly what he was thinking. There was no chance he'd be angry at you, but that didn't preclude him from being disappointed.

How many other people would have been able to hold their own against that man? Everyone else in Matt's circle would have been capable. Frank, Jessica, Danny, Luke — they wouldn't have been even fazed at all. Elektra would have had a field day with him. Even Karen and Foggy had proved themselves quick to react in dangerous situations, and you couldn't help but think anyone in that situation other than you would have walked away unscathed. Your cheeks burned at the thought, as much as you willed them not to.

"What is it?" Matt said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.

Of course he'd notice the shift in your temperature.

"Maybe I deserved it," you said, a bit bitterly. "I shouldn't have been walking out there. Like you said, I could've called you. And I didn't. I could've learned more self-defense over the past few years, and I haven't. It's my own stupidity that's got me where I am."

Matt stilled. "You're blaming yourself?"

"I'm blaming my lack of foresight."

He resumed dabbing at your hands, and was silent for so long that you thought he wasn't going to answer. Finally, he said, "With that line of reasoning, then it's my fault Elena Cardenas was killed. I should have done more."

"That's not the same, and you know it."

He ignored you. "It's also my fault that Foggy got shot, that time we were in Reyes's office. If I had been listening more closely to what was going on down the street, then I would have heard the threat coming sooner."

"Matt, come on. You know what I meant."

"And it's my fault that Fisk got out of prison. If I had the wherewithal to kill him the first day I met him, he would never have—"

"Stop it!"

"Do you get it?" he whispered. "It's not your fault. We could preoccupy ourselves all day with the ifs that might have changed what happened. But you can't beat yourself up over the ifs that you couldn't have predicted. The bad people in this world don't get to benefit from your own self-degradation. Never take the fall for something they've done."

You let out a short laugh through the tears that caught in your eyes. "You give great advice, Matt, but you're terrible at following it yourself."

"Touché. Take off your pants for me?"

You smiled. "You really know how to sweet-talk a girl."

Matt brushed his thumbs over the corners of your eyes, exactly where they were still damp. "Well, maybe once your knees are cleaned up, I'll show you how it's really done."

You pulled off your pants and tossed them onto the couch. "You're not... heading out onto the street?"

"I'd rather be here."

You hardly dared to believe it. "You sure?"

"Positive." He didn't hesitate as he bent down onto the floor, methodically poring over the scrapes with the washcloth. "You're my priority."

A warm glow flushed through your cheeks, this time out of relief, and the smile that tugged at Matt's lips told you that he sensed it. You let him finish bandaging up your knees before you grabbed his arm and pulled him next to you on the armchair. There wasn't much space, but you lifted your knees so that he was partially underneath you, squeezed next to one another so tightly that you could feel his heartbeat.

"Hey," you said, after a moment. "How'd you unlock the bathroom door without a key so quickly?"

"It's an easy trick. Stick showed me years ago."

"Can you show me?"

"A good magician keeps his secrets," Matt said. At your frown, he laughed. "I'll show you tomorrow."

"I love you," you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I love you more than you'll ever know," he answered. You fell asleep to his hand running through your hair, the billboard outside rotating between hues of violet and cobalt, and the faint thrum of the muted air conditioner in the apartment above.

When you woke, you were in bed. It was still early; the dawn outside was muted. Matt must have carried you into the bedroom, because you had no memory of moving in there yourself. For a moment you feared he had taken to the streets, but feeling the warmth on your left, he was still there, and had been for some time. You shifted, trying to get nearer to his warmth. He said nothing but tugged you in even closer, his arms and legs thrown over you protectively.

What if you had been shot and killed? The thought was eerie. This bed would be empty. Matt would surely be out for the man's blood. And all this... you wouldn't ever get to experience it again. It was far too easy to take each day for granted. Far, far too easy.

One day at a time, then, you decided, and closed your eyes again as Matt's hand crept over your own.

#matt murdock #reader insert #matt murdock x reader #marvel #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader #mcu #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #hurt/comfort

[alastxrs]

Could I request Angel Dust being absolutely pampered by his boyfriend, who's a switch but usually a top because he knows Angel prefers to be bottom?

𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

Y/N is a cannibal

Son of Rosie!

He is 5'11

He is a switch

His mother raised him to be a perfect partner!

Alastor is a teacher to him

Has almost killed Valentino

They met because of Charlie and Alastor

Angel Dust and Y/N have been dating for a few months (Y/N acts like they've been dating for years)

Y/N is a switch

❝𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘! 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔~!❞

Angel Dust quickly turned his head the minute he felt arms wrapped around him and a smile formed on his lips.

His boyfriend truly made his life better when he returned to the hotel after a rough shoot with Valentino, Y/N was one of the reasons he was glad to be in hell. Valentino was getting into some weird shit so he needed the gentle touches.

The spider demon fixed their position so he was facing the smaller demon before he kissed his forehead. "What is it, suga?" he asked softly.

Y/N had this weird thing for spoiling him rotten; whenever they were on dates, when they were at the hotel, even during sex he was getting spoiled like crazy! He loved it don't get him wrong, it just caught him off guard some days.

On the last date they had gone on together, his boyfriend had taken him to this crazy good restaurant and he felt like royalty with the food they had ordered.

He didn't deserve to be spoiled.

The taller man would accept it if the other demon was genuine about spoiling him.

A grin formed on the short demon's face before he dragged Angel Dust into the shared bedroom. Before they entered the room, Y/N stopped them and gently caressed his cheeks.

"Just letting you know, I'm crazy in love with you and you deserve to feel loved."

They entered the bedroom with candles lit, rose peddles around the room, and calming music playing. Fat Nuggets had a little bow tie on as he was relaxed on his small bed.

A surprised look was plastered on his face.

The small cannibal looked nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck with a smile on his face. "I figured you were having a rough day when you texted me how Valentino was on your ass." Y/N began rambling while gently rubbing the pornstar's hands. "I just wanted you to feel special tonight- no sex unless you are up for it! I also managed to get us your favorite snacks and-"

Angel immediately kissed his lover on the lips and the other kissed back, the kiss was passionate and gentle as they pressed against each other.

The spider demon pulled away yet leaned his forehead against the cannibal's forehead. "Thank you suga! It means everything to me that you thought about this just because I told you my boss was bein a dick," he said with a relaxed smile.

The same grin that Angel fell in love with was on his lover's lips.

Y/N pecked him on the lips again before he moved them to the sofa that was in the room before he grabbed two glasses for the two of them.

"Well, let's have a relaxing night!"

As they settled onto the comfortable sofa, Angel Dust poured them both a glass of their favorite drinks, ensuring that Y/N's glass was filled to the brim before topping off his own. They clinked their glasses together in a silent toast, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared understanding and affection.

Throughout the evening, they laughed and talked, sharing stories and getting to know each other on a deeper level. Y/N's infectious energy and charisma filled the room, making Angel Dust feel relaxed and at ease in his presence. They lost track of time as they lost themselves in each other's company, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

As the night wore on, they found themselves drawn closer together, their hands intertwining as they leaned in to share a tender kiss. At that moment, surrounded by the warmth and intimacy of their shared space, they knew that they had found something truly special in each other. And as they basked in the glow of their love, they knew that their date in their room was just the beginning of many more magical moments to come.

It was going to be like this a lot especially since the cannibal knew his spider partner more than anyone.

Angel Dust was glad to be in love with Y/N.

#hazbin hotel #x male reader #angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #I didn't feel like writing smut #male reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #alastor mentioned #Rosie mentioned #charlie morningstar mentioned #Valentino mentioned #fluff #just two gays having a nice night #just two demons being gay

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is craving more alone time with you, but his work schedule is going to make that difficult. And when Danny comes to tee ball practice and makes Everett cry, Bradley lets you know that he would be so much better. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley had a long night. He had to jerk off two times before he could fall asleep, and even then, he kept dreaming you were with him. He woke up, his body searching for you in his bed before he convinced himself you really had gone inside your own house. 

When he had to get up to shower before the tee ball game, he felt like he had barely slept, but at least he'd be able to see you again in a few hours. 

When he checked the time on his phone, he saw you had sent him a picture of you all snuggled up in your bed. You looked beautiful without any makeup on as sunlight lit up the bare skin of your shoulders, and he was texting you back right away. 

Kitten, what did you wear to bed?

He forced himself to get up and head to his bathroom. As he was stepping into the shower, you wrote back.

Nothing. Kittens don't wear pajamas.

He couldn't write back. He'd never get himself in order if he did. But when he saw you and Everett arrive at the field, he couldn't help thinking that this whole thing would have been made better if he had slept over with you last night. He could have made pancakes for breakfast, and the three of you could have come to the game in his Bronco. 

"Hi, Coach," you called to him with that little wave, and he knew he wasn't going to get enough of you. Especially not since he learned about all the little noises you make when you come apart in his lap.

"Kitten," he muttered, squeezing Everett's shoulder and sending him over to Bob to warm up. You were smirking up at him. "Where do you stand on me kissing you right now?"

"Oh," you gasped, and Bradley watched you glance around to see Sandra and all the other moms were nearby. "I..."

"It's fine," he whispered. "Just know that I want to, okay?"

You nodded up at him before he turned toward the game that was about to start. 

It turns out the Tiny Eagles were indestructible up to this point. They beat the Tiny Falcons by five runs, and Everett scored twice. Bradley smiled when he turned to you both times to find you cheering for your son. You looked even more excited than you had when you had managed to hit some balls at the batting cages. 

When the game ended and the kids started to disperse, heading toward the bleachers, Bob made his way over to Bradley. 

"Great job, head coach," Bradley told him, shaking his arm and making him smile. "Undefeated after three games."

Bob nodded, blushing a soft shade of pink. "I think you're a better coach than you're giving yourself credit for. The kids love you."

Bradley's eyes caught on Everett as you knelt down to help him switch his shoes. "I'm having fun."

Bob followed his gaze and mumbled, "Do you know if Molly's coming to another practice or anything?"

Bradley had to reel in his desire to smirk. "You want me to ask Team Mom if she'll invite her sister again?"

Bob's blue eyes lit up. "Would you? I mean... I'll probably just chicken out again, but I want to ask her for her phone number next time I see her."

"Well, you should. According to her sister, Molly thinks you're hot." Bradley watched Bob's face turn from pink to bright red as he sputtered before turning and walking away.

----------------------

You watched Bradley head your way, getting a high five from Everett. "You two sticking around? Or am I walking you to your car?"

More than anything you wanted to get to spend more time with him this weekend. You had to run Everett to a birthday party this afternoon, and tomorrow you had a family function. Both were things you would have invited him to tag along to if you had been dating him for a while. 

"Busy weekend, Coach," you told him, running your fingers along the back of his hand. "Walk us up?"

You watched him crouch down so Everett could get a piggyback ride, and you laughed at the two of them in their matching blue jerseys and hats. "That's adorable," you told them, running a few steps ahead to take a picture. One that would probably make your heart melt every time you looked at it, but that was okay. 

"Send it to me?" Bradley asked, and you texted it to both him and Molly. 

You listened to Everett ask Bradley when he could go to the park again, eager to see that fastball in action. "I'll talk to your mom, okay? Figure out a good time?"

"Okay, Coach," Everett replied with a bright smile, one you never saw on his face on the rare occasion that Danny was around.

"And now I have a question for you," Bradley told you as you approached your car. "A favor, really."

"Yes, Coach?" you asked, smiling innocently at him. Last night you rode his thigh until you came in your jeans. Maybe he was right; maybe you did love to tease him. 

You listened to him clear his throat. "Can you get Aunt Molly to come to another game? Or a practice? Please?"

You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to bring her more flowers?"

Bradley snorted and looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm not asking for me, Kitten. Bob's jonesing hard for Molly."

"Oh." Your first response was immediately embarrassing now. You already knew Bob had a thing for your sister, and now you sounded like an idiot. You watched Bradley set Everett down and open the car door for him. 

"See you on Monday, kiddo." Everett gave him a high five before Bradley closed the door. Then he focused all of his attention on you. "Tell me you're not jealous, Kitten."

"No," you whispered. "And I already know Bob likes her. But Danny used to hit on Molly all the time, and I'm sorry, I just... I'm sorry."

Bradley was frozen, a look of disgust on his face. "Your ex husband used to hit on your sister? Are you joking right now?"

You shook your head. "He used to hit on everyone. I couldn't even have girl friends around. I could barely spend time with Molly. She hates him so much, I thought she was going to hit him at times."

"Kitten," he whispered, and he started to reach for you before he stopped. But before his hand could drop down to his side, you caught it. You had basically told him earlier that you didn't want him to kiss you in public, but now you were pulling him closer. You could make the next move here. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned up to kiss him. After one soft brush of your lips, Bradley whispered, "We doing this in public now? In front of Ev?"

"Yeah," you confirmed, and then he kissed you a little harder, but kept his hands on all of your G rated body parts. He didn't let his lips linger too long, but he also didn't let you go. 

"Let me know when you and Ev are free? Maybe we can get some pizza after practice this week?"

You nodded up at him. "You know who else likes pizza? Molly. Want to see if Bob's free, too?"

Bradley laughed. "Yeah. Let's work on that."

When you slipped into your car and started the engine, Everett said, "Mom. I think Coach Bradley likes you!"

You couldn't help but laugh. "I think so too, Ev."

---------------------

Monday had been going so well for Bradley. You and he had been texting all weekend, including a few risque photos. You also managed to get Molly to agree to come to practice on Thursday, and Bradley already informed Bob that she would be there. Bob was already so flustered, Bradley didn't see how he would even make it to Thursday. 

So his day was going well, right up until he was getting ready to leave base for tee ball practice.

"You have a minute?" Mav asked, and Bradley just shrugged.

"For you? I guess I have to."

Mav kind of laughed and then shook his head. "I have to send you up to Lemoore for a few days. Need you there by Saturday afternoon."

"You're joking," Bradley said. "I have a tee ball game on Saturday, Mav."

"Yeah, well, Bob can coach solo for one game. I need to send someone for training, and they selected you. At least it's not a full deployment."

Bradley ran his hands over his face. "Yeah," he grunted. He had already been planning out a way to get some more alone time with you. He had been hoping you'd agree to a sleepover at your house if Bradley left in the morning before Everett was up. Now he was going to have to go days without even seeing you. It's not like sleeping with you was the only thing on Bradley's mind, but his thoughts were wandering there a lot now. 

He'd tell you today at practice that he would be gone for a bit. He was just disappointed that he didn't have much choice. After he parked at the ballfield and started setting things up with Bob, his heart leapt when he saw you park next to his Bronco. But then he saw someone park on the other side of you, and a man got out and was immediately in your personal space and Everett's.

Bradley looked on with concern as Everett ran ahead of you with his gear bag, his face pinched like he was about to cry. You were still next to your car, and the other man was gesturing wildly with his hands while he loomed over you. He was tall, and even with your heels on, he dwarfed you. 

But Bradley peeled his gaze away from you as Everett got closer to the bleachers. "Hey, kiddo. You okay?"

He just nodded and sat down and started yanking his shoes off. But he didn't really look okay, and neither did you. Everett was swiping away tears before they could fall, and Bradley was seething with anger.

He knelt in front of Everett and helped him pull his cleats out. "Is that your dad talking to your mom?"

"Yeah," he replied softly and sobbing once before going silent again. Everett usually talked nonstop, constantly asking questions and wanting to know everything that was going on around him. 

Bradley cleared his throat. "How was school today?" he asked, doing up the laces and making sure Everett was ready for practice.

But he just shrugged and gave another one word answer. "Fine."

Bradley sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "We're going to have batting practice today, and I'll make sure I put you at the top of the lineup, how does that sound?"

He watched the kid's eyes light up a little bit. "Sounds good, Coach."

"Great. Now why don't you start warming up with Piper and Amber?" 

Everett reached into his bag and grabbed his Phillies hat, setting it on his head backwards just like Bradley. With a high five, he was off, running for the outfield toward Bob. And Bradley was standing up and getting a view of you struggling through the grass with your heels on, with a scowling Danny beside you. 

When your eyes met Bradley's, he watched a hesitant smile meet your lips. You shouldn't be hesitating with him. Your pretty face shouldn't look like you were on the verge of tears yourself. Danny looked taller than him, but Bradley felt the almost uncontrollable urge to knock him to the ground. And he was afraid he would do it if you or Ev did start crying. 

"I don't have time for this shit. You know that," Danny was telling you, practically yelling although he was right next to you. 

Bradley watched you take a deep breath and stop walking. "Danny. He's your child, too. He only sees you a handful of times a year. He loves baseball, and he's doing really well. I thought you could take like two hours out of your schedule to see him practice."

Danny shook his head at you. "I work all the time. You know that!"

Your hands turned to fists at your sides. "You work all the time?" you hissed. "Smoking pot and having sex with twenty year olds while you wait for artistic inspiration to strike is not the same thing as working! When was the last time you sold a painting? When was the last time you paid child support?"

Bradley felt his blood boiling. He knew he was staring and eavesdropping, but he didn't give a shit. And if Danny gave him a hard time, he wouldn't back down. 

Danny leaned toward you and got in your face. "You've always been like this. You don't appreciate the process. You act so fucking high and mighty, and then you can't understand why I don't want to be around the two of you."

"You don't need to spend time with me! I'm asking you to spend time with him!" you replied, turning back toward the ballfield where Everett was running the bases and laughing. 

Bradley was done watching this shit. He rolled his shoulders and made his way toward you. There were tears in your eyes now, and he was probably going to level your ex husband right in front of all of the other team parents and players who were getting ready for practice to begin. 

"Hi, Coach," you muttered when he got closer. 

"Kitten," he replied, loud enough for Danny to hear. "And you must be Everett's father." He reached out his hand and shook Danny's, making it clear with his eyes that he expected Danny to shape up his act. "I'm Bradley. One of the coaches."

"Fantastic," he replied sarcastically. 

Then Bradley focused all of his attention back on you. "Everything okay, Kitten?"

You nodded and smiled at him. "Yeah."

-----------------------

As soon as Bradley turned toward the ballfield to get the practice session started, Danny was all over you. 

"So you're fucking your kid's coach? That's a good one. Classy."

You knew Bradley could hear him by the way his shoulders stiffened and how his steps slowed. Part of you wished he would keep walking, and part of you wanted him to come back and wrap his arms around you.

But you rounded on Danny, because he wasn't your husband any longer. "First of all, Everett is your kid too, and second, that's none of your business. And third, do you really think you should even mention that shit after the way you cheated on me?" 

He was getting you riled up. He loved doing this. He would use this against you later, you knew he would. But you couldn't help yourself. 

"I sincerely hope you don't invite random men like this tee ball coach over for the night when Everett is around," Danny said in the most condescending voice. 

You sucked in a deep breath. "For once, just one time, I would like you to initiate spending some time with Everett. That's all I am asking for. Just a few hours. He deserves your attention."

Danny's response of, "I'll see what I can do," made you want to scream and throw your shoes at him. But instead, you just gingerly made your way to the bleachers, and he trailed behind you before sitting silently next to you. He took out his phone and never watched Everett at all. So you cheered twice as loud as you normally would while silently tamping down your rage. You couldn't even focus on the ridiculous things Sandra and Tara were saying behind you, because you knew if you took your eyes off of Everett and Bradley for a second, you'd start to cry. There was no way you'd let Danny have the satisfaction of knowing he could still do that to you.

When practice ended, Everett looked hesitant to come over to the bleachers. You nudged Danny with your foot, and he finally looked up with only mild interest. 

"Great job, sweetie!" you told Everett, collecting him in your arms as he came closer. "You were awesome!" But Everett still looked like he was about to burst into tears with Danny around.

"Nice job," Danny said with a plastic smile. "I need to run, but we'll set up another time to see each other, okay?" He patted Everett on the head and then turned to leave without another word. 

You weren't sure why you did this every few months. Part of you thought you'd be better off petitioning for full custody and leaving Danny out of your lives for good. But the other, softer part of you wanted Everett to have some sort of relationship with his father. 

And then Bradley was standing behind Everett, gently patting his shoulders and looking at you. "Ev was doing a great job batting today. I think he could handle some real pitches soon. Maybe even the batting cages," he told you, and you watched your son's face break out into a smile. 

"Really?" Everett asked Bradley, turning to look up at him.

"Oh yeah, kiddo. Definitely," he replied with a smile. 

You swiped away at the tears that still seemed to be lingering in your eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Ev. We can go to the batting cages one day."

"We can all go," Bradley said, but it just made you want to cry more. You weren't in a relationship with him. You weren't even technically sleeping with him. But he treated Ev with so much more care and respect that Danny did. And he was good to you as well.

You knelt to help Everett change his shoes, and you were so happy to hear him asking Bradley a million questions again. As Bradley walked you both up to your car, he started teaching Everett about baseball stats, and you got your phone out to text Molly. You wanted to make sure she could still make it to practice on Thursday, but you decided to also let her know that Danny came to practice at the last minute today.

Molly: You've got to be shitting me. He really showed up? Was he a dick? Of course I'll be there on Thursday. I've got to ask Coach Cute Glasses for his number. 

You snorted and tucked your phone away as Bradley helped Everett into the back of your car. "See you on Thursday, Coach!" Everett said, giving him a high five as he started to buckle himself in.

"Can I tell him about pizza?" Bradley asked you softly, and when you nodded, he draped one arm along the top of your car and leaned inside the door.

"How about we go out for pizza after practice on Thursday? Maybe with Coach Bob and your Aunt Molly too?"

"Really?" Everett asked, and you wouldn't know he'd been crying earlier. 

"Yeah, my treat. It'll be fun," Bradley said, closing the door and focusing his attention on you. 

You opened your mouth to argue with him right away. "Pizza will not be your treat! You bought me a one hundred dollar bottle of champagne!"

"Kitten, Bob and I will split the cost of the pizza. We need to make him look good in front of Molly, okay? Don't argue. Also, your ex husband is a fucking dick."

He backed you up against your car door with his hands at your waist and a concerned look on his face. "Yeah. I know."

"He made Everett cry," Bradley whispered. "Actual tears."

Your heart was pounding as you nodded up at him. "Thanks for making things better." Then his lips were on yours, and your palms came to rest on his chest. His kisses were soft, and he was pulling away from you almost immediately.  

"Oh, Kitten. I don't want to see that kid cry ever again."

You were practically whimpering at his words, but you held it together. "Thursday will be better, Coach. Pizza with Molly and Bob," you said, lacing your fingers through his. "And maybe this weekend we can try to spend a little time together? Just me and you?" 

"Oh, fuck," Bradley growled, his head tipping back. Then he was looking at you again, but his expression was far less pleased now. "I have to go to Lemoore for a few days. I'm leaving on Saturday morning."

"You'll miss the game this weekend?" 

He nodded. "I'm not sure when I'll be back. But we can talk on the phone at night?"

You laughed softly. "Is that what a deployment is like?"

Bradley kissed your cheek and your ear. "Oh, shit, Kitten. No way. A deployment would be so much worse. Hardly any communication at all."

You pondered that for a moment. "You mean we would just have to miss you without even getting to talk to you? Because that would probably make Ev cry, too."

He cupped your cheek with his big palm and tipped your face up to look at him. "But I would spend the rest of the time when I'm back in San Diego and not deployed making it up to him. And you."

You nodded and kissed him. "I believe you, Coach."

----------------------

Bradley thought a lot about you while he flew all week. He wanted to have the chance to really be with you, but going to Lemoore was making things difficult for him now. He was aching for the chance to spend a night with you. There was no way he would have passed up that opportunity with you for any other plans. 

On Thursday, he was waiting to fly with Bob and Nat in the hangar. When Nat set her water bottle down to fix her boots, Bradley picked it up and finished her drink. "You need to stop that!" she complained when she saw what he had done. "And you need to tell me what's going on with your hot mama."

Bradley tipped his chin at Bob. "Ask him what his dinner plans are for tonight."

Nat turned toward Bob with a smirk. "You're dating a mom, too?"

Bob's flushed cheeks as he shook his head and sputtered. "N-No, not a mom. Everett's aunt."

It took Nat a second to piece it all together, but when she did, she started laughing. "You're interested in sisters?"

Bradley shared a look with Bob, and then the three of them were cracking up together. "This is too much for me to handle," Nat said, tossing her water bottle in the trash and heading to the tarmac. Then she spun around and excitedly asked, "Wait. Is there a third sister?"

"Just the two," Bradley confirmed with a grin.

"Damn it."

When Bradley was eventually showering before leaving for practice, he thought about the special treat he had tossed into his bag for Everett. It seemed really stupid now, but he couldn't get over the way Everett had been so upset on Monday. 

And Bradley fucking hated Danny. Everett was his child! What the fuck? How could you do that to your own child? And you were so strong, it was baffling to Bradley. You invited Danny to practice even though you knew he was horrible, but you still managed to stand up for yourself and your son. Bradley was absolutely hooked. He wondered if he could ever be good enough for you to be willing to stand up for him that way too. 

He had so many conflicting emotions as he hopped in the Bronco and headed for the ballfield. 

---------------------

Molly parked right next to you, and she hopped out of her car to scoop Everett into a big hug. "I heard we're going out for pizza tonight!" she cheered, kissing him all over his face while he laughed. "I love pizza!"

"Me too!" he cheered, and Molly sent him toward the bleachers while you and she followed behind him. You hopped out of your high heels and slipped your sneakers on while she helped you walk. 

"Oh. There he is," Molly whispered with a grin. "Shit, do I like glasses now? Or just tall, sexy men?"

You watched Bob interacting with some of the kids, and you couldn't help but smile too. "I think Bob is actually taller and sexier than Casey was. And the glasses are like a cute little cherry on top."

"Are you checking out Bob?" Bradley asked when you reached the bleachers.

"Mmhmm," you and Molly both hummed in unison. 

Bradley kissed your cheek right in front of everyone, and then he took your hand as he told Molly, "Bob's not just a pretty face. He also has a master's degree in aeronautics, volunteers at the library, comes to a full stop at stop signs, and he never litters."

"Sounds made up," Molly said with a smirk. "I'll be the judge of things."

You and she sat side by side and watched Everett practice. It wasn't long before she started asking you about Danny. This didn't surprise you, but he wasn't high on your list of things you wanted to talk about. But you did admit, "He made Ev cry. I was almost in tears, too."

Molly kissed your temple and laced her fingers through yours. "He's horrible. Just take him to court and get full custody. I can help you pay for another lawyer, since I know you're not getting any child support."

"I don't need money," you promised, your eyes tracking Everett as he hit the ball and ran past Bradley who was cheering him on. "You know all those people who claim you can save a bunch of money by just making your own coffee at home? Turns out those bastards are right."

Molly didn't laugh, but she also didn't press you for more information. She just held your hand until practice ended. 

"My god... is he sweating? I think he's sweating," she whispered, and you realized she was watching Bob take off his glasses and wipe his face with a towel. "Do you think he would get upset if I licked his face?"

"Molly!" you said, cracking up. 

But now Bob was looking at her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and she was just grinning back at him. 

"You need to behave at dinner," you muttered as Everett ran over and climbed on Molly's lap to get his shoes changed. 

You watched Bradley and Bob pack up all of the practice equipment and head your way. Bob cleared his throat twice before he managed to say, "Hi, Molly." And when your sister smiled up at him and greeted him by name, even you could feel butterflies in your tummy.

"Pizza time?" Bradley asked the group while Everett scrambled up onto his shoulders, knocking his hat off. When you caught it and set it on your own head, Bradley mumbled, "Looks cute, Kitten."

By the time you got to your car, Everett was laughing with Bradley, and Molly was smiling at Bob. You watched Bob climb into Molly's car as she told you, "Meet you there!" And then you turned to find Everett sitting on the tailgate of Bradley's Bronco.

"I have something for you, kiddo. It's not new, okay? He looks like he's seen better days, but he's still a good luck charm," Bradley was telling Everett while digging in his bag. When he pulled out a well worn stuffed Phillie Phanatic with slightly matted green fur and handed it to Everett, your heart skipped along erratically. 

Everett held it gently with both hands. "It's the Phanatic! Can I keep him?"

"Yeah, kiddo. He's all yours," Bradley told him, leaning on the tailgate as well. 

Everett hugged Bradley around the neck, and you felt so much love for this man. How was he already treating your kid this well?

"It's just a shame the real Phanatic is only at Phillies home games," Bradley said with a grin. "You've got to get your mom to take you to Philadelphia."

Suddenly two pairs of eyes were on you, but you were already shaking your head. "Maybe next year, Ev! Now hop in your seat so we can go get dinner."

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, and you whispered, "Did you just give my son your very own stuffed animal?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice raspy and playful. "He got me through some hard times, just thought I'd pass him along. I can always come over and visit him at your house if I miss him too much, right Kitten?"

You looked up into his brown eyes in awe and ran your fingers along his mustache. "I just want you to know that if we were alone right now, I would be more than happy to help you through a hard time."

A smile spread across his handsome face. "Tell me more about that."

You bit your lip and ran your fingers down the front of his shirt. "It's just that, Kittens really know how to use their tongue."

Bradley groaned your name loudly, and you giggled when he grabbed your butt and pressed himself against you. "I need to get you alone," he whispered, and you kissed him hard, tasting his tongue and wiggling against him. 

Then you pulled out of his grasp, leaving him reaching for you as you backed away saying, "I think it's time for pizza."

--------------------------

I hate Danny. Also, Coach and the stuffed Phanatic!! If you don't know what the Phanatic looks like, Google him and laugh! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 11

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction

[justmeinadaze]

"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"

I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*

TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.

Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock. 

“Bad day.”

When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been. 

“I’m not…easy…to be with.”

“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”

You three had laughed at that at the time. 

The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.

They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.

“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”

That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…

“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”

Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes. 

“Baby? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”

Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”

“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”

“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”

You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment. 

“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”

The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would. 

Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom. 

Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama. 

You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you. 

Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall. 

When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

“What happened?”

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air. 

“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”

They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”

Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed. 

“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”

“I-I’m sorry, mama.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”

They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears. 

“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”

“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”

“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”

“What about…about the neighbors?”

“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”

You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room. 

“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”

Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap. 

“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”

Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears. 

“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”

“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf. 

“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. 

“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”

“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”

“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”

“I still have no idea who that is.”

After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor. 

“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room. 

“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well. 

“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”

“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”

When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend. 

As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally. 

“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it’s not.”, you whisper. 

Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile. 

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #steddie drabble #steddie au #mental health #mental health is important #you are not alone #you are loved #you matter #you are enough

[julsvu]

gn! reader

📒: angst 2 fluff, miya might sound ooc !!

" i miss you."

from: miya ⊙⁠.⁠☉

the text message displayed itself on the top of your phone for a moment, before fading away. and you did nothing. you sighed, before putting your phone away- maybe, you can try putting away your thoughts too.

it's been a good few days after you and miya's stupid little argument. for some reason, you thought ignoring him would be the greater and most beneficial way to deal with it- which totally backfired. as much as you wanted to reply to him, you felt too awkward. and, you didn't know if it was your pride or your ego telling that, maybe even both. even if you did reply, then what? would you guys go be sorry for each other and make up? or would he start questioning you if you ever did see his point while you both argued?

there were peaceful moments of silence in your office; before you had heard a knock from your apartment door. dreadful thoughts already had sinked in, what if it was miya?

you shook your head. no way. he wouldn't come here this late at night. sure, he liked staying up, but to go as far as to stay up for you? no way.

but once you opened the door and in mere seconds, was proven wrong, you were met by a familiar pair of green eyes - very familiar ones. the one you very much prayed to not see.

"(name). why are you ignoring me?" miya asked straightforwardly. your own mouth almost felt like it couldn't produce any words as you looked at miya's face; it was just raining, so his neon green hoodie was very much soaked, and his eyes seemed puffy, like he had been crying. you didn't know if it was the rain that stained his pale, yet red cheeks or not.

"i.." you started, sweating. how were you supposed to answer that? you didn't want to admit that your pride and ego stopped you from confronting him after that argument.

"uhm.." was the only thing that came out from your lips, in the most awkward tone ever. you had never felt so.. dumfounded and embarrassed at the same time before; so, like any awkward person, you looked at the ground.

"i know we had an argument, but, don't avoid me, please," miya finally spoke, and once you looked up from the ground, you can see that he was playing with his fingers; peeling the soft skin near his nails, a habit that he'd always find himself doing whenever he was nervous. which practically just turned the switch on your head, that says: "go do something! don't be an awkward idiot!"

"sorry," you managed to muster out, stepping closer to miya. the boy just gave out a sigh and a nod, his lips quivering ever so slightly as he refused to look in your eyes. was it embarrassment? was it being scared because maybe you'd have a bad reaction and never want to speak to him again? he, himself didn't know.

and you too, didn't know why you started to walk closer, and closer, until you eventually wrapped your arms around him and placed your chin on top of his head. your height was always something miya was slightly jealous of; as he was often teased by reki and shadow about how he's shorter than the person he had grown to be fond of.

but, as quick as light (maybe even quicker), miya hugged you back tightly; it was evident he missed you a lot.

"i missed you," he confessed one last time, tears streaming down his puffy, red, cheeks as he hugged you tighter; it felt like you couldn't breathe anymore, but, it was okay, his hugs emitted warmth, a warmth that you had missed feeling in your arms and in your chest.

"i missed you too."

© 2023 JULSVU. all rights reserved. please don't plagiarize, translate, put in other websites or copy my work without permission. ty!

#sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 x reader #miya chinen x reader

[ghostchems]

hello my dumbass was up watching horror media before bed even though i know it gives me HORRIBLE anxiety so could we maybe get a drabble or something of terzo comforting a fem!reader having a mini anxiety attack before bed, maybe with cuddling involved? thank you so much :,)

love love this prompt! tw anxiety. about 700 words.

“Oh my god, why did I do this to myself?” You squeak out in a hushed whisper as you pull your knees up to your chest. Blankets and pillows surround you and the only light in your room coming from your dimly light cell phone screen which is now laying face up on your bed. It’s just you in your room. You feel your chest start to tighten and your heart starts to thud. Your phone screen times out and goes black, a jolt of terror striking through you so you quickly unlock your phone. 

It was one of those nights where you didn’t have much to do and you went down a YouTube rabbit hole. It didn’t take long until you found yourself deep into unsettling videos that you could have just scrolled past but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. You told yourself you wouldn’t be scared, that they weren’t real and that you’ve seen and researched far worse things while being a member of the church of Satan but… here you are. 

You try to distract yourself but the thoughts have already taken hold. The thought to text a few of your friends crossed your mind but who would be awake at this hour?

Shit.

You know someone who would be.

Within seconds, he is at your door with somehow perfectly ruffled hair and a sleepy grin. His t-shirt is a bit wrinkly and his sweatpants make it painfully obvious that he is not wearing any briefs. He leans in close to you, his grin only growing.

“Thinking about me, eh, sibling?” Terzo’s voice is deep and husky but at the moment, you couldn’t care less about him being the over the top flirt he is. The two of you had connected recently and the last time you were together things got a bit hot and heavy. 

“I-I’m sorry, Terzo. I’m not in the mood for that.” You whisper, holding your pillow to your chest and clutching your phone. “I’m a little spooked tonight.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as your cheeks turn bright red. His expression immediately changes to concern and he is quick to loop one of his arms around you and pull you close.

“Why didn’t you say so, tesoro?” He hums into your ear then starts to usher you back to your bed. The light of your phone helps guide the two of you until Terzo flips the switch to your desk lamp to allow a warm, dim yellow light to flood the room. He is so close behind you, his strong nose nuzzling against your hair and neck as the two of you waddle to your bed. You slip into it and he is right there beside you, the warmth of his body pressing into you and his arms wrapping securely around your chest. 

When you hooked up, there was no snuggling or after care, so you’re pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he makes you. In all honesty, you weren’t expecting him to react in such a way to you being frightened but it makes the crush on him you already have blossom and the butterflies in your stomach flutter. 

“Will you stay the night?” You pipe up once you are comfortably nestled underneath the covers and in his arms. The tightness in your chest is already gone and you still feel a little bit like a baby for having to have someone come comfort you.

“Si, si, of course I will. I would not be able to live with myself if you have a nightmare after I’ve left.” He teases, his soft lips brushing against your cheek, You snuggle in close to him and manage a soft giggle as he gives you a squeeze. “Rest now, puffetta. I will fight off the monsters for you.” 

Terzo starts to gently stroke your arms and presses his nose against your temple. You focus on his breathing, his chest rising and falling against you and you start to match the pattern until your eyes start to grow heavy and your mind starts to drift.

Soft breaths puff through your lips as you fall asleep soundly in his strong arms.

#terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus x reader #terzo request #tw anxiety #spooky prompt

[bolontiku]

I cant... 🤣🤣 baking at a different cafe.

Work things under the cut

I knew people really didn't like me at work. Bahaha I didn't know it was this bad.

My Lil sister has been baking at a Cafe thats been shit to her, my other trainee was there and I got the Lil sis hired to do pan up (prep) work so she wouldn't have a hard time. Fast forward a few months that trainee went to another store (for better pay, a little suggestion to my boss). But this left the Lil sister alone, management promised to get her help.

A year later she is doing triple the work I do by herself with empty promises of help. So I talk to my Cafe GM about getting her transferred over to our Cafe as a retail employee. A step down but she wont be doing a job as stressful alone, it evens out. Everything is in the works and the baker in training decides to quit. They had pushed her transfer date back a month to train the new one. Getting closer to transfer date and the acting GM at her Cafe is coming up with excuses to not transfer her.

He will do it tomorrow. Oh, he's never done one. Doesn't know how to do it. He's busy in meetings. Promise... promise... promise...

My sister has been sick, legit vomiting on account of how stressed she has become.

I talk to my GM again, this time with the proposal of them and us switching for her last week. My GM is as bullhead as I am and literally sat there texting back and forth until the other agreed. He kept coming up with excuses "she's become unreliable" "calls off" "don't want to send you a bad worker-" I tell her that I have to hold my sisters hair back while she pukes out of anxiety. I tell her "imagine your brother coming home everyday vomiting out of stress at a job he hates". My GM is not happy.

We talk cause he is hesitant having me bake at his Cafe "cause he knows I am not the one to mess with, he's afraid cause he knows he's treated her like shit and I won't put up with it" my GM agrees. She has worked that Cafe before and knows how draining and horrible it is. How lazy and u supportive the management is.

She laughing cause he says "he doesn't want you to fuck him over" now. Why would that be the case? If he didn't screw others over he wouldn't project that onto others or expect the same shitty treatment.

I promise to be as professional as I have always been. She knows I am good for it.

Yesterday (saturday) was the first day there. He is literally scrambling to not speak to me. The other manager is asking me about my sister and why she didn't want to be there anymore. Stress from the workload. Everybody knows this. She has been vocal about it and every manager knows that a bake of 2.5k requires two people. Being told her work is crap when she has 1yr of experience and is being compared to veteran bakers of 8+yrs and being lied to about receiving help.

They stutter about not having help themselves. I deadass look at him and let him know that is their failure. You interview people, lie to them about what they will be doing and then in turn treat them like crap when they come in. Nurture and help your employees grow, train them properly, schedule them the hours you promised and be there for them. Both my trainees roughed it out at that store out of loyalty to ME. Because I trained them. How many times did I get calls from them crying because they were stressed?

The manager shook his head and dropped it. Couldn't look me in the eyes. They've fucked up. I managed to get both of them back into my Market and into cafes where they won't be as stressed.

But I get to work. The management ends up scrambling to get me the numbers they need for their catering and add-ons. Once I bake a product I won't go back to re-bake more. The staff that don't know me come over to gossip, how they've tried to help the baker but they don't know what they are doing. If she could just do her job--

I smile, "imagine coming in and having to run the dining area on top of cashiering, oh and there's no help so on top of cashiering you need to run batista and stock, oh and don't forget we need help making sandwiches and salads too."

The woman looks stressed.

"Now after working your ass off you're told what a disappointment you are and you should have done better."

"But I cannot do all of that at once!!!" She stresses.

"But you expect this baby baker to do all of it without help?" I laugh as she stands there flabbergasted and the management team stays quiet. "This store is fucking pathetic, I wouldn't put up with it. MY management team knows how to handle their catering and numbers, not only that they support me and have no problems taking over. If you treat your people good they will return the favor, yes? Fair is fair right?"

She nods and shuts her fucking mouth. Walking away quietly.

One of the boys that already knows me is giggling and I see him, scream his name and we hug. Nobody else speaks to me.

Get my sisters name out your fucking mouth trash.

#chaos journal #tiku at work #a bakers life for me #i will be professional #but still let you know what shit you are

[dxitydoo]

Another update on my crochet FE3H Golden Deer banner

Hello again, dear friends.

It has been a few months. I would love to say I’ve been busy but truthfully I haven’t.

But I’m back!

I started off by continuing, and subsequently finishing, the zig zags. (Which, because it’s been so long since I last touched this project, did require me to relearn how to do said zigzag. On an unrelated note, it’s a fun lil pattern and I may yet make a bigger project made entirely out of zigzags).

(Please excuse the slightly awkward picture, I only took a pic of the zig zag process on instagram so I’ve cropped out the text)

(In case you’re wondering, yes I am sitting on the floor in that pic. Why? Because I was in a freezing cold church and the only warmth was coming from the grates in the floor)

Next came the attaching of the zig zags!

I laid it all out and used some stitch markers to hold it in place so I could see how it looked.

Then I began the somewhat tedious process of filling in the gaps. (Tedious mostly because the zig zags would flop around and get in the way and make everything ten times harder).

One zig zag down.

Two zig zags down.

And, unfortunately for me, this was the moment I realised I’d fucked up somewhat.

See, the pattern has a fifth colour that it uses to go around the entire thing to create a sort of border.

What I had forgotten until this very moment was that the border was also meant to go inbetween the zigzag section and the main section.

Unfortunately, I had already cut the wool for the two sections and had sewn in some of the ends so I couldn’t easily unpick it.

I decided to press bravely onwards and attempt to sew in the extra border later. How?, you may ask. Um… I’ll work it out?

By this point, my hands were also starting to ache like nobody’s business. I’d been crocheting for about 5 hours by this point and my hands were beginning to protest.

But I was so close. I was almost desperate to at least finish attaching the zig zags.

After a short dinner break, I finally finished zig zag numero 3:

And then, because I clearly hadn’t quite learnt my lesson yet, and high off the serotonin from completing a section, I decided to keep going.

I began sewing the border I’d forgotten in as sewing was easier on my hands than crocheting. But then I got bored so I switched to beginning to crochet the border to go around the whole thing.

It is here where I finally decided enough was enough.

My hands are a smidgen painful now ngl (even typing this they’re aching) so… yeah… stopping for tonight might be an idea.

But!

It’s so close to being done!

And its starting to look really really good if I may say so myself.

Still left to do:

the top bit (which is the same colour as the zig zags)

finish the border (which also goes around all sides of the top bit, hence why I started it already)

finish sewing the zig zag border

add details?

breathe a sigh of relief that I actually finally managed to finish something

But, for now, ima go to bed.

#fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #fe3h #golden deer #crochet #fe3h crochet #fe3h fanart #sort of? #i mean… #im a fan #and its art #so #technically #fire emblem three houses crochet #fire emblem 3 houses #long post

[kyufessions]

KEVIN - HYACINTH

meaning: hyacinth’s represent the phrase, “i’m sorry, please forgive me”.

pairings: boyfriend! kevin moon x partner! g.n. reader

synopsis: after another long fight for the eighth night in a row, kevin is left wondering about your relationship.

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff + angst

warnings: some swearing, bestie jacob makes an appearance

a/n: i don’t really write for kevin but i tried my best. my apologies if it’s not too good </3

-

here you both were having a yelling match at almost nine at night for the eight night in a row. with his comeback coming up and you busy with preparing for the upcoming college semester that would be your last, it was safe to say you were both pretty stressed out. even though you both handled arguments pretty well, always making sure to never go to bed angry so there were no lingering ill feelings towards one another, you also made sure to always speak your mind and point out whenever your boyfriend pushed a button he shouldn’t have. you never put up with bullshit from anyone, and kevin was no exception.

tonight you were arguing about you asking to reschedule date night for another day this week since you were backed up on an essay you had to finish before your classes started up in three weeks. you were the type where if you didn’t finish things beforehand, you would eventually forget about them which would lead you to failing an assignment, and you didn’t have the time nor money to make that mistake. kevin knew of your habits considering he had been your boyfriend for three years already, he even helped decide your study schedules since he knew how much college stressed you out. that’s why you had thought he’d be understanding of wanting to switch around date night for just one week, but when he started arguing instead that’s when you blew up.

kevin stood at the end of the couch as you occupied the other side, neither of you wanting to move an inch closer to one another. frankly, you didn’t even want to see his face. but here he was, and you knew you had to get everything out before you regretted not doing so.

“this is the eighth night in a row we’ve argued over stupid shit, babe.” he grumbled, running both of his hands through his hair aggressively and tugging on the ends as he looked down at the shagged carpet he stood over.

you let out a sarcastic chuckle, cocking your head to the side. “oh really? who knew?” you replied, rolling your eyes in annoyance. “i thought of all people you’d understand my situation with my studies!”

“i do-“

shaking your head in disagreement, you let out an aggravated sigh. “you don’t! if you did you’d understand instead of popping a fucking brain vessel!”

“i get it and i can help you finish after our date but-“

you turned on your heel mid-sentence as your boyfriend spoke, walking down the hall to your shared bedroom to pick up a bag and stuff whatever clothes fit in it.

“where the fuck are you going?” kevin screamed as he followed you, watching as you stuffed your things in a rather large tote bag. he just laughed defeatey, shaking his head. “you know what, you have the apartment to yourself for a bit. i’ll be at the dorms, i can’t take this anymore.”

and with that, out went your boyfriend for quite a few days. you didn’t hear anything from him, not even a lousy good morning text message he always managed to send after arguing. a few days turned into a week, leaving you a bit worried and curious as to what you both now were. were you broken up? couldn’t be because his stuff was still here at the apartment you both shared. and if you were he surely would’ve had jacob or juyeon come pick up his items for him. everything just left you confused and slightly worried.

after it had been a week and a half and still no contact from your boyfriend, you decided to text jacob and ask how he was doing. that’s when he told you how he had been sulking around the dorms, seeming lost in thought when he wasn’t overworking himself at practices and how even some of the fans noticed how off he seemed in his recent VLIVE. you, however, have been to preoccupied with your own emotions and work that you haven’t kept up with their content like you normally do- especially kevin’s. you asked jacob for advice, he told you to give him a few extra days of space because by then he’d surely come around. and if he didn’t, he wouldn’t mind bringing you two together to discuss everything with his stubborn best friend.

when another three days went by and still no contact, you didn’t hesitate to text jacob and ask of your boyfriends whereabouts. he told you they would be busy until nine at night, but after that him and kevin planned on working on the dance for the upcoming comeback in two weeks. you told him you’d stop by, asking which practice room he’d be in and telling him you’d be bringing food for both of them.

when it neared nine, you stopped by a local takeout restaurant and picked up their favorite meal and headed towards the IST building. before entering the building, you mentally prepared yourself for what was going to happen between you and kevin. was there going to be a breakup? more fighting? the only thing that knew what was going to happen next was the universe, and you cursed at it under your breath for not giving you a heads up. you greeted haknyeon and sangyeon as they were leaving the building, making small talk and telling them how excited you were for their comeback before parting ways.

you made your way down the hall as you exited the elevator, hearing an unfamiliar song blasting from one of the practice rooms. before knocking, you took in a deep breath and exhaled longingly. was this going to be another long night? you were scared, but had some hope to put an end to all the fighting between you and the one you loved. all you wanted was to be in his arms again, to smother his face with kisses.

when jacob heard a knock on the practice room door, kevin looked over at his friend in confusion. all the other members went home after today's schedules since they were absolutely exhausted afterwards. he watched his friend open the door with a smile, kevin’s face falling when he noticed you walk in with two plastic bags of food. kevin had secretly missed you a lot but wasn’t sure how to go about talking to you, and he was too scared to go to the apartment and see you in fear of what would happen such as another fight or even worse: a breakup. his biggest fear in life was losing you, his best friend and lover all in one.

as you entered the room, you noticed the tired look in your boyfriend's eyes immediately. his eye bags were evident and dark, and you can obviously tell he hadn’t been taking care of himself as it seemed he had lost some weight in such a short amount of time. you plopped down the bags on top of a chair as you ran towards kevin, taking his face in your hands as you examined his face. although his face held no emotion, his eyes held the universe. he stared at you with strong admiration, love oozing from the corners of his tired-looking eyes as he felt your thumbs caress his puffed cheeks.

“you look so tired. why haven’t you taken care of yourself? what’s your problem, moonie?” after examining his face, your eyes finally met his. you could’ve sworn you felt your heart skip a beat, yet it also cried out for his love.

kevin’s lips spread into a weak smile as you called him by the nickname you had given him years ago, a nickname only you were allowed to call him. silence filled the room as you both just stared at one another for a few seconds before he wrapped you up in his arms, tears starting to fall from his eyes. you felt his tears drop onto your shirt as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling apologies between short sobs.

you just rubbed his back in small circles as you felt your eyes start to sting with tears, smiling as you left small kisses on the side of his neck innocently. you heard a chuckle leave his lips, pulling back from him and cupping his face once more to wipe away his tears. at this point you were both just smiling at each other, happy to be in the presence of one another again. his arms were snaked around your waist, attempting to hold you as close as possible to him.

“i’m sorry about all the arguing, i’ve been so stressed lately and- i’m sorry.” he let out a sigh as he melted into your touch, placing a small kiss on your hand. “i thought it’d be better if we stayed apart for a bit, thinking it’d be better for us. i just, im so sorry.” he took your hand in his, bringing his lips to it and kissing each individual knuckle before placing a final one on the back of your hand. “there’s no excuse to how i acted, and i’m sorry. please forgive me, i miss you too much. this has been so torturous.”

you smiled up at him, a few singular tears leaving your eyes as his words hit you. as you nodded up at him, you moved your hand behind his neck and pulled his lips towards you. when they connected, all the butterflies in your stomach returned. you couldn’t help but smile in the kiss, feeling your boyfriend do the same and followed by a small laugh. a laugh escaped your lips as well as just pure happiness filling the room.

when you pulled apart, you poked his arm before speaking up. “you better take better care of yourself, i’ll fight you if you don’t.”

he cupped your face, bringing his lips to your forehead before bringing you in for another hug to bury his face in your hair. “i will. anything for you, my royalty.”

#the boyz #the boyz angst #the boyz series #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz angst #tbz #kevin moon #tbz kevin #the boyz kevin #kyufessions tbzflowers #kyufessions the boyz

[manonamora-if]

November Check-In

As mentioned in my previous weekly update, monthly check-ins will be posted on the 1st of every month, recap'ing what's been done and what's the plan for next month.

Recap of last month's progress

IF Events in the Next Month

Plan for the next month

Still long post ahead. If you want a mini version, head over to itch.io!

October progress

The plan for last October was to:

Play and review more IF games ✅

Finish the La Petite Mort remaster: ✅

Either continue a WIP or fix another semi-completed game ❌

maybe try to add another block to the SugarCube Guide? ❌

The first was easily completed, since I reviewed about 40 games (out of the 75 entries) from this edition of the IFComp. This was more than last year in terms of quantity and time spent (more long entries this year), so while I did not play/review all entries, I'm happy with having done all that so far. Maybe I'll revisit the rest at a later point.

The second was a bit difficult. Working on the re-writes started pretty easy, but I ended up being completely short for words half-way through (even if I could visualise the scenes). Switching to translating the completed passaged helped pick up the pace, but I did this a bit too late, looking back. This meant I rushed through the last week, just before the EctoComp deadline, to complete a working state. This also means that while the game is complete, there are kinks that still need to be ironed out. This include the missing full passages (half-written or drafted, but not translated), missing translation (especially for the last passage), and taking care of the last UI friction. Another update is coming.

Having spent so much time on the first two, and IRL just swinging its bat at me, the last two points were not touched at all. Still, it's not bad, and other things came about:

The Bare-Bones Jam managed to get two dozen entries, which is pretty decent considering it happened at the same time as the EctoComp and the voting of the IFComp.

Lots of interesting discussion happened in the @neointeractives Discord server, especially covering the IFComp (moderation can't sleep).

I somehow managed to wing an entry for the inkJam, with In the Blink of an Eye. Don't know how I managed, I certainly wasn't in the right state of mind. Also turns out it was a 4-bird-1-stone, since I translated it in French.

Had an actual AMA on the blog, that was properly scheduled!

So still quite a bit considering life... (it's really been a lot, haven't processed most of it yet)

-_-

What's happening in November?

Nanowrimo for the writers, which can be a good incentive to progress the writing of a game.

The IFComp, EctoComp, and inkJam are always looking for players/voters. If you want to play a few short-ish games, take advantage of that!

The @seedcomp-if is always looking for inspiration (text, images, code, etc...) in this current first round. If you have half-baked ideas or anything, really, come submit something!

Over @neointeractives, we just wrapped up the Bare-Bones Jam and we have a new jam in the work... the ShuffleComp! Stay tuned ;)

-_-

The PLANtm for November

Still play more IF and maybe review. With the Bare-Bones Jam and the EctoComp over, that's a good 50 games to try out. (I've started with the inkJam already)

Finish the edits of Harcourt Ch5 (and get MelS to send me his Ch6 writing)

Fix one of the semi-completed games: either the Egg parser or TRNT (and make it a proper parser)

Finish that darn SugarCube Guide: there aren't much left in the guide to cover, but there are a few things to fix.

I would also like to compile the short drabbles from @crimsonroseandwhitelily into something more substantial. Either as a side page or within the game itself.

Taking the list of TO-DO from August…

To-Do not require much of new stuff:

translate Escape Goncharov! into French. ✅

fix the bugs in EDOC + overall the French version to match

fix the bugs of TRNT + find a way to add the missing pieces (mayyyybe translate into French?)

fix the formatting of DOL-OS + translate into English ✅

update LPM with the missing content + translate into English ✅

It's really been going down, which I am super happy about! I've made quite a bit of progress on that part since I made that To-DO (considering waves at life)

The rest of the To-Do pile was:

Finish The Rye in the Dark City (and maybe translate?)

Finish P-Rix - Space Trucker (and try to translate)

Finish Exquisite Cadaver (translation unlikely, current gameplay too complex to port for French)

Add a chapter to CRWL + fix/reopen the blog

Re-working TTTT to its originally planned state (lol, not likety)

Re-working SPS Iron Hammer (samesies)

Coding TTATEH (MelS dependent - shooting for end of year)

Emptying my inboxes (they are not all answered tho)

Honestly, this pile probably won't get done this year....

#dev log #monthly check-in #manonamora #interactive fiction #darn #didn't seem much yesterday #but I've really been doing a lot

[whumblr]

OKAY

hi hello how you doing alright now that the pleasantries are over I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS BUT ALSO I AM JUST SO IN LOVE WITH HIWTHI ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY

anyways

What happens to them both, say a few years down the line? Is Jay still a reporter? Will he ever go back to crime? Does Zayne get a new toy to play with or does he completely leave that behind?

Do they ever see each other again? Do they sometimes exchange messages? I can see Zayne getting bored and just texting Jay with a grin. Maybe a picture of a certain kind of power tool 🙃

Does Dennis stick with reporting crime or has he decided it would be better to switch too?

All the pleasantries to you <3

Yeah, I figure Jay will keep doing what he likes best. He'll pretty much still be an investigative reporter. Only with a bit more experience and some more responsibilities. Like training the new kids :D Which he hates. He isn't much of a mentor or team player, but I'd like to think he's very nice and warns them a lot about not getting too deep into things.

Zayne will have gotten everything out of his system in jail. Maybe he gets a fighting buddy or something, or a bunkmate to bully, but after he gets out, he feels in control of his own life and doesn't really need to get a new toy anymore. I figure he'll settle down somewhere, if life goes well he could get work in a garage. Tinker on bikes.

(also lil headcanon that Zayne reads Jay's articles and maybe sends him pics of that too)

After I wrote the 'Zayne totally didn't hit-and-run Jay's boss' last week, I figured the team didn't want to bother looking for someone new, so they got Dennis to step in and manage for the remaining weeks. Which he did well. Couple years later he got promoted and fully took the job, so he'd be, what, editor in chief / teamleader? Something like that.

Jay and Zayne do keep in touch, with Zayne mostly starting convo's. Oftentimes just some pics, stuff he takes while he's out touring (Jay replying with pics of whatever nerdy shit he is doing) but sometimes they go for the little more serious 'how are you' stuff. Jay gets nervous when he hasn't heard from him in a while, so he'll return the sentiment. He'll definitely have updated Zayne on Dennis' promotion like, Hey remember when you didn't crash into my boss? That dominoes right into Dennis getting promoted. He wants you to know he doesn't say thanks.

With Zayne replying like 💀 (or: how nice! A 2nd chance to crash into your boss!)

#asks #hiwthi #home is where the hurt is #hiwthi asks

[nukenai]

My job is a little boring and they could pay me more I guess, and we've been insanely slammed with work since like, last July, and it hasn't let up at all.

But idk. I've been there for I think 6 years now. And I just think about things like how the manager of our department keeps making sure we know she's paying attention to how hard we're working. And has told us a million times not to break ourselves with getting more work done than usual, and to just do what we can every day, because "we know you are not robots and I will not entertain any expectation that implies otherwise" (cool actual quote)

And then I think about how the morning Oma died, I texted my supervisor, and she replied in regards to bereavement stuff, "I will handle everything, please don't worry about it". And then a few days later I received a care package from upper management with a personalized card expressing condolences for the loss of my grandmother, along with a candle, some hand lotions, and a stuffed dog. Apparently this was because my supervisor told upper management about it, and they decided to do that.

I hear so many horror stories of jobs that are awful about shit like that. And it's like, I tell my supervisor "I have to leave early today because xyz thing with animal" and she'll be like "hope everything's alright, just let me know whenever you're back!" with no further questions. Could I find a job that pays more? Probably. But would it be a job where I can work from home with my animals all day, and I really feel treated like and appreciated as a human being that means something? Probably not.

In one meeting when I expressed slight frustration over being called into a meeting because my production metric slipped, my supervisor immediately went off on a tirade about how much she appreciates me, how good of an employee I am, how I always show up and never call out and I'm extremely reliable and good at my job, and how she loves seeing pictures of Sammie in the Teams chat and I'm a joy to the team...

And I was like damn Amy I'm not quitting I was slightly annoyed LOL. But it was nice to hear, yknow?

Sorry I just saw an awful instagram reel where a woman's boss was terrible to her after her mother in law died and it hit me hard. I'm forever sending everyone I love (that's you if you're reading this) the best vibes ever and I hope you can find a job where you get stability and feel appreciated. Even if it's a little frustrating sometimes.

oh also they let me switch to a 4 day work week so I have an entire day off on Wednesday and also we have like infinite overtime available and I'm not doing anything else but making tons of extra money! lmao (the overtime is not remotely pushed. it's just like. hey who wants it. and like, i'm gonna sit on my ass at a computer anyways!)

#LONG POST #SORRY BEEN HAVING A VERY LONG COUPLE OF WEEKS #BRAIN IS FULL OF A LOT I AM TIRED

[readingandwritingandreading]

The Day Before You ~ Part 7

My Blurb: Sorry for the delay in updating, it was a crazy week and weekend. My little man turned 4 so I have been in full time mommy mode! That’s also why this is just a short and sweet chapter. As always if you didn’t write it don’t post it anywhere. And if someone else is interested in being added to my lil tag list feel free to message me!

Disclaimer: Alas, I own nothing. 

Summary: Forced into an awkward dance with a stranger at Sheamus’s wedding, Ridge doesn’t think he’ll ever see her again until she turns up at a show a few months later with Sheamus’s wife and he gets a second chance.

Pairing: Ridge Holland x OFC Lyssa Hutchinson

Warnings: None 

Tagging: @pioched @snarkandsarcasmftw @pikapuff-316  @rayna69​  @thebookwormcat

Read First: The Day Before You Masterlist 

Also Check Out: Main Masterlist  

I hummed to myself, pouring creamer into my cup while the coffee pot finished. I had woken up before Ridge, carefully extracting myself from his grip, before stealing a shirt out of his bag and throwing it on. I was tempted to wake him up to resume our activities from the night before but he looked so relaxed, sprawled out on my bed hugging my pillow since I had gotten up. The grumble in my stomach warned me the last thing I had eaten was cake so I headed to the kitchen instead. 

Stretching as the pot gurgled its last few drops, I grinned at the ache between my thighs. I had more than a few hickies and some suspiciously finger shaped bruises as well but I couldn’t bring myself to be upset about it. I’d lost count of orgasms. Probably should have realized a rugby player turned wrestler would have some stamina. I jumped when arms wrapped around my waist, relaxing immediately when Ridge pressed a kiss to my shoulder, treating me to a gravelly “good morning” in his gruff accent. 

“Your voice is sexy in the morning” I leaned back into his embrace, smiling up at him. 

“Your ass is sexy in my shirt.” he replied, pressing more kisses to my shoulder. I grinned in response, turning to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. It started out innocently enough but turned heated when he picked me up to set me on the counter, spreading my legs to stand in between them.

He was shirtless but had pulled on his boxers and a pair of jeans. They were unbuttoned, probably when he realized I had stolen his shirt. I could feel him hardening against my core and I whimpered, coffee forgotten behind me on the counter and using my legs to pull him closer to me. My hands were running down his chest to take care of the jeans when I heard a knock followed by my door opening and my mothers voice filling the space. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lyssa! You weren’t answering your phone and we’re late for…” Lyssa’s mom trailed off when she saw us in the kitchen. There was an awkward moment where all three of us froze before Lyssa extracted herself from me and jumped down, standing in front of me, presumably to block my erection and I quickly buttoned my pants. 

“Mom! What are you doing here? Ridge put a shirt on!” I stifled a laugh as the last part was whispered in my direction. I was in front of a live audience wearing less clothing on a weekly basis. 

“You’re wearing it.” I whispered back to her before stretching my arm around her, hand extended to her mom. “Hi, I’m Ridge.” 

She recovered then, eyes switching from Lyssa’s blushing face to my outstretched hand. “I’m Catherine. Nice to meet you.” I nodded in agreement. Then she turned towards her daughter. “You were supposed to have lunch with me and your father. We called and texted you saying we were on our way but we didn’t hear a response. I thought you may have overslept so I told him I'd come grab you.” She didn’t look mad, more amused at the situation and Lyssa groaned, hand held to her head. 

“I’m sorry, mom, I completely forgot. The wedding was late and then…we got to bed late.” She recovered with a weak smile. 

I barely managed to suppress my chuckle. “I can head out and let you guys get going.” 

“You should join us! Christopher would love to meet you, he had so much fun talking to Isabella’s husband.” Her mum jumped in before I could move. I opened my mouth to reply, looking at Lyssa for guidance. We had made some huge steps in our relationship last night but we hadn’t talked about meeting each other's parents.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was a grown adult with a career and a car payment, but I felt like a teenager when my mom opened the door to find me and Ridge seconds from ripping our clothes off in my kitchen. He handled it smoothly while I could do nothing but stand there with my hand on my head. He was waiting for me to indicate whether I wanted him to join us and I knew he would take the blame himself if I shook my head. Making up some excuse about work or something. I smiled at him, pretty sure I had fallen a little harder for him.

He took that as his cue and answered my mom with a smile. “I’d be honored to join you.” 

“Great!” Mom smiled brightly, “I’ll let you two get dressed and meet you downstairs!” she headed out the door and I exhaled, resting my head against Ridge’s chest when he wrapped his arms around me. 

“Did I tell you my mom is competitive? Now her daughter is dating a wrestler just like her niece was. I can hear her telling their friends now.” I groaned. 

Ridge chuckled before replying, “I garnered from the wedding.” He pulled me towards my room. “I’m going to need that shirt back.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So how did you two meet?” Dad asked after the waitress had taken our order. We had followed them to the quiet little restaurant, my mom commenting on Ridge being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He opened the car door, helped me out of my coat and pulled out my chair. I shrugged and smiled, I didn't know how to tell her that he wasn’t doing it for their benefit, it was just who he was. Astaire had only done it when we were at a function where cameras might be watching. I couldn’t remember him ever agreeing to lunch at a small restaurant either, always trying to impress others with fancy reservations at expensive restaurants. 

“I work with Sheamus in WWE. He took me under his wing when I moved up to the main roster and we are in a stable together. I caught the garter at his wedding and Lyssa got forced to dance with me.” Ridge shrugged, grinning at me. 

“Oh, I remember that now!” Catherine cut in. “I don’t think she was forced…”

“Mom, you literally drug me onto the floor for the bouquet toss and then Isabella literally drug me over to meet Ridge.” I raised my eyebrow at her. “It worked out in my favor though,” I winked at Ridge, pressing my hand into his. 

The rest of the lunch went smoothly. Ridge told us about the upcoming world tour and entertained my dad with rugby stories, thankfully mom hadn’t mentioned what she walked into at  my apartment. Before leaving the restaurant she pulled me aside, “He seems really nice, Lyssa. You look happy but also…” she paused, staring at me for a minute, “you’re glowing, I guess is the best way to describe it.”  

I caught sight of Ridge shaking my dad’s hand before approaching us, “Ridge makes me happy and he makes me feel cared for.” I shrugged before giving her a hug and taking Ridge’s arm as he escorted me to the car. 

#ridge holland #ridge holland x ofc #the day before you #micole writes things now #ridge holland fic

[arinsanity]

ok so like. last week i got to play inscryption for myself using my uncle's ps4 YIPPEE

im just gonna ramble about my experience playing it here becuz why not :3 this is a very long post with large walls of text so be warned! only read if you wanna hear my dumb rambling :D (SPOILERS AHEAD!)

ACT 1:

i spent. way too much time on act 1..

1st play of act 1 went on as usual, ya beat the prospector then ya get to the angler too fast too soon then you fuckinf die yadda yadda yadda

so i think the game expects you to like beat the angler on the 2nd play of act 1. and i didnt. i made total misplays (becuz im a silly idiot :D) so i died to the angler and i had to restart.. i mean at least i wont have to restart at the trapper when leshy decides to pull out 8 fucking bears :3

ok my 3rd play of act 1! wow!! i should be able to get to the trapper now right? :0 no. i died at the angler. again. GRAHH

4th play. i think this was my best play yet becuz i got lucky to have squirrels with the 3 blood sigil and i was ZOOMIN thru the bosses! i made it to the trapper so i thought i'd be able to finally win! until i accidentally. switched the squirrel totem head. with a different one. which means. squirrels did not have 3 blood anymore. so yeah i died to the trapper :3

5TH PLAY RAHHH at this point i just wanted to get act 1 over with.. i realised my items existed (i am the world's dumbest inscryption player) so i just stole one of the angler's sharks to get it over with quickly. i made it to the trapper again and WON!!

FINALLY MADE IT TO LESHY'S FIGHT! i mean i didn't rlly have a good deck so i was pretty sure i was gonna die.. and i did :] on the first phase. so back to the start for me! at least i got to listen to leshy's amazing theme..

6th play! it went on as usual except i was stuck at the trapper and had to die and restart :D i'm such a good player! /s i'm pretty sure the scrybes who were still stuck in their animal forms are disappointed in me LMAO

7th play. i'd say i had a good deck going on for me so i managed to make it all the way back to leshy's fight! i was surprised it didn't take me that long to get back honestly..

LESHY'S FIGHT! again! :D my poisonous 2/2 mantis god quickly pulled me through the first phase but sadly it had to die from the prospector turning it into gold D: (RIP mantis god..) i managed to get through the 2nd phase pretty easily becuz i had some strong cards already on the board! then it's finally time.. FOR THE MOON!! which i immediately killed with my poisonous cat :3 WOO ACT 2 BABY!!

ACT 2:

YIPPEE!!

i finally made it to act 2! i was shaking from excitement seeing all the scrybes in the intro becuz the fixation on this game is real :3 (my family thought i was weird lol)

spent like. 10 minutes deciding which deck i wanted to use.. i ended up going with leshy's becuz i didn't trust myself with using any new cards yet :D

i realised that it may have been a dumb move becuz i forgor that act 2 didn't have the option to give you squirrels n it would just give it to you randomly.. so it took me a while to get going :']

once i had more cards i had a good thing going for my deck! defeated the prospector and angler but the trapper took a few attempts.. then i defeated leshy! :D yippee!!

went to defeat grimora next becuz skeletons :3 and becuz i wanted the tomb robber card so i can use tomb robber and field mice for.. THE RAT DECK. basically you use tomb robber to summon 2 skeletons, sacrifice them to put field mice on the board and repeat until the board is full of field mice! THE RAT DECK!! (if you know specifically who i got that from then ily /p)

magnifuck was next and defeating the students was relatively easy thanks to THE RAT DECK but i completely forgor magnificus's gimmick was that he replaces your sigils so uh.. i was screwed on his fight for a while.. but i managed to defeat him anyways so fuck you magnificus :3

i saved enough foils to get ourobouros so i could do the silly OUROBOUROS GRINDING. :D i grinded my ourobouros up to 30/30 using tomb robber with the training dummy! (tomb robber is literally carrying me lmao)

P03! the silly robor!! surprisingly didnt take me that long to figure out the puzzles and the inspector and melter were defeated easily :D dredger finds the OLD_DATA then it is time to defeat P03!

P03 had me stuck for a moment with the whole convenyor belt thing until my ourobouros pulled up and i quickly turned things around :D but then i also forgor it scans your best card and copies them on it's side of the board so uh.. yeah the ourobouros grinding was coming back to bite me :skull: THANKFULLY i survived the ourobouros apocalypse and defeated P03!

the act 2 finale goes on as usual, P03 pulls out the OLD_DATA and funni robor goes spin while the whole game glitches the hell out :D (my family thought i actually did something to break the game LMAO) TIME FOR ACT 3!!

ACT 3:

funni robor. sadly didn't get to finish this act becuz i had to go home D:

YIPPEE botopia!! i was pretty excited for this act becuz i could see my beloved archivist :3

i uh.. i struggled literally the FIRST battle of P03's act and even when i was done with it, i lost on the second battle and i was stuck on the first and second battles of act 3 for a while.. fuck you P03 >:(

i only made it until the first checkpoint before i had to stop and go back home :[ no archivist..

that's about what i remember! it was painful but i had fun and i love this game sm! thank you for reading the whole thing if you did, i hope my dumb rambling wasn't too annoying :D

have a nice day!

#riri's rambles