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dolokhoded · 2 years

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i love thinking about vera's relationship with her mother as more nuanced than just "her mom sucked and she had mommy issues and she hated her". not that she didn't suck, or was a good mother in any way but there's just something so personal about how this woman would view her eldest daughter,, in my mind countess rostova was very harsh on vera while she was growing up because she wanted her to achieve all the things she couldn't herself so badly, she expected perfection, but then vera grew up, and she was more than just a girl who reminded her of herself, she was a girl who reminder her of herself but did better, vera started to take over the role countess natalya had herself as a young woman and she hated that (which is fucked up, of course, being jealous of your own child) and she started to ignore her, belittle her, try to prove in any way that she was never going to surpass her. i think the reason she favored nikolai and natasha and petya over her was that they fit very well into the big rostov family picture, they were still recognized as her children and she was still the top of the pyramid, but vera grew into her own woman, vera distanced herself trying to repair all the damage that had been done by her, vera married a man who as far as we know had no titles and didn't come from any of the Big Russian Names™ like those of bolkonsky or bezukhov that the countess thought fit nicely into their picture. but still, an eldest daughter, a first child is always such a precious part of any mother. she was happy to be with the rest of her children, yes, loved them more even, i don't doubt it, but none of them were vera. the part that vera played in her life makes her irreplaceable, vera would manage to become who she could've been if she'd played her cards right, vera was the child that first made her a mother, a good or a horrible one, and she'll never not feel the absence of her in her life. and she can't really do anything about it unless vera decides she wants her to, and lets her try again, because vera may not ever fully heal from how she was treated by her own mother her entire childhood but she can grow from it, she can build her own life, she doesn't need to seek the forgiveness of anyone who wronged her so badly and it's not her job to understand her feelings. but countess natalya can't do that, and she would eventually realize that there are no pros to losing her first child, that what caused this was her own terrible treatment of vera, and no matter what you're like you never really get over knowing that the only thing you taught your child was how to stop needing you near them. and, of course, vera's choice would be understandable no matter what it was, maybe she'd want to reconcile with her mother some day, maybe she'd want to confront her, maybe she wouldn't want anything to do with her anymore, but only she has the power to choose that, the countess doesn't.

#it's not that i feel bad for her of course #but still y'know #in relationships like these people can have a complex and interesting point of view and still be in the wront #*wrong #n e ways the vera brainrot is so bad today #and this is why in the depths of my soul i DESPERATELY hope vera and berg worked out even though it's a pairing made by tolstoy so i know #very well how he intended their marriage to go...#but still. just. vera is one of the few female characters whose fate isn't exactly clear like after some point she just fades out of the #story so i am BEGGING you PLEASE just let her be happy. just This Once.#like i literally cannot name a single other femake character with a good-ish ending except like #marya. whose ending i didn't actually hate she seemed much happier and healthier although the rest of the epilogue sucked #and then i guess julie k could also be ok. hanging around with her beard husband boris reading him her emo poetry about women.#anyways HOO #war and peace #vera rostova

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reimeichan · 1 year

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Green:

Cyan:

Green:

Cyan:

Green: you are absolutely forbidden from packing our suitcase ever again

Cyan: noted

#by green #about cyan #this FUCKER packed the WORST SHIRTS #MOST OF THESE HAVE HOLES #OR THEY’RE FADED TSHIRTS FROM OUR HIGH SCHOOL DAYS #OR IT'S A FUCKING POLO #CYAN I AM BEGGING YOU TO GET A SENSE OF FASHION P L E A S E #we are on VACATION we are MEETING FRIENDS #we have to be the best dressed in the room not looking like your AWFUL DUMB HOBO AESTHETIC #I fucking hate sharing a brain with this fucker

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kikikyon · 2 months

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SO GUYS. IM OPENING A KOFI SOON ! WE ARE BROKE AND CANNOT AFFORD NECESSITIES

#ー kiki speaks #WAAAAa #HATE THIS #Hate this sm but what else am i gonna do #e-beg ???;?? no #if i w ant money i wang to give you a reason yo give me money /lh #ill draw for u

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hellfireeddiemunson · 8 months

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nothing like ending the work day having a panic attack for probably the next full hour i’m here. hahahahahahahaha

#i want to D*e #hahahahahahahahaha someone please beat my brain in with a meat tenderizer i am Begging you !!!!!!!#i don’t wanna exist or be here #mentally i’m bashing my head in with a metal door 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻#mentally i am. not well lately and i am simply being put too far out like i cannot do this #i should’ve just not made it past the age of 16 like i’m fucking tired i don’t wanna do this anymore dude fuck #i HATE IT HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#anyways if anyone needs me i’ll be throwing myself into the ocean!

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

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Pie - eyed over you

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder and weapons

Word count - 3.3k

a/n - This is my first time writing an AU and I am super nervous (also because I have combined two things I can just not write about, weapons and cooking). Please let me know what you think.

Rain was pouring heavily on the roof of the shed and he wasn't sure if the old sheds meekly covering the building could contain them much longer. He couldn't care less.

He walks out of the building and into the rain, wiping his left arm on his dry coat to wipe off the blood covering it. The pouring rain caresses his face but does nothing to the ever-present frown on his forehead and the grimace on his lips.

He used to love the rain as a kid. The gentleness of the droplets, the smell of rain, and the puddles. It was so much easier back then. So innocent. He closes his eyes as droplets slide their way all over him. They touch him like they don't know what he has just done.

His frown deepens as images claw into his mind once again. He clenches his fist remembering how it had taken him mere 10 seconds to shoot 3 bullets straight into the man's head. The killing had become easier over the years. Picking the bullet and shooting straight into the target had become second nature to him.

What hadn't become easier was the aftermath. The guilt that somehow always gnawed its way into his heart. The question was there any other way?

With his eyes still closed, he brings his face towards the sky, daring the rain to wash away his thoughts the same way it has washed away the blood that stuck to his metal arm not so long ago.

He likes the rain for a completely different reason now.

It provides him with an escape.

From his mind.

His thoughts

The images. The man screaming, begging him to stop and he doesn't even feel disgusted by himself when he doesn't even falter. He left his men to take care of the body.

A face lingers in his mind, pushing away all the dark thoughts. His ma "Bucky "

It's like he can hear her call out to him, urging him to come back home.

She would have hated how he turned out.

But he tells himself he doesn't care.

It didn't matter what his ma would have thought about him. She wasn't here. She didn't have to know.

He snaps his eyes open when he doesn't feel the rain falling on his face anymore. He can still hear the raindrops thudding on the roofs of the buildings. He looks up to see a huge umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain.

He frowns and follows the handle of the outrageous floral print object only to be met by the sight that was going to change his life forever.

The first thing he saw when his eyes met y/e/c ones was that they held a certain softness to them that he didn't think still existed in this world. He was almost afraid to take his eyes off yours as if he was scared that you would crumble down under his gaze.

But when he brought his eyes over your face and then the rest of you, he knew it was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever landed on. That even the most beautiful paintings in the world didn't hold a candle to you.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, voice so gentle, it could calm the most violent of storms.

Bucky thinks those are the most precious three words he has ever heard. He nods his head, mostly because he doesn't speak too much these days and also because it has been a very long time since someone has asked him that question.

"I am walking that way and the rain is increasing, you don't want to get drenched. Walk with me?" You ask and he thinks he would burn the whole world down to the ground with a smile on his face if you asked.

He looks at the way you are pointing and realizes that's where his car is parked. He says, "Okay" and sees as you take a step towards him, covering the both of you with your umbrella, and his senses are filled with your smell. You smell like freshly baked cookies and coffee. It's his new favorite smell.

You take a couple of steps ahead before turning towards him and he realizes he is staring. He doesn't remember the last time when somebody had enthralled him so much. For some reason, he just can't get himself to look away.

"I have not seen you around before." He says only to hear you speak again.

"Yeah, I am kind of new here. Been less than a week." You reply with a smile on your face and Bucky thinks this cursed town has just been blessed.

You look around before commenting, "It's a beautiful town." And for the love of god, he can't figure out how this part of the town which is more of a dumpster with remnants of buildings all around can be beautiful to somebody.

"This is not really a safe place." When you look at him with confusion in your eyes, he continues, "Especially at this time of night." As if that explanation is enough. He straightens his back and tries to get the confident, mob aura he has around everyone. "What are you doing here?"

If his slightly changed demeanor throws you off guard, you don't point it out. You just bite your lip before speaking, "What if I tell you I lost my way?"

The chuckle that leaves him is involuntary. "Really? Lost your way?"

"Hey. In my defense, it's just been a week." You place your hand on your chest in fake offense.

"Where were you heading to?"

You put your hand in your pocket before taking out a piece of paper. "Here"

Bucky takes the paper from you and looks at it with furrowed brows. "Why are you walking this way? This place is at the other end of that alley." He says before pointing out to a dark alley.

You make an o shape with your mouth before turning toward where he is pointing. "Got it. Thanks."

When you reach his car and his driver opens the door for him, he turns back before saying, "Let me drop you." It doesn't sound like a request.

"No, no. It's fine. I don't want to be trouble. Also, I am not sure your car would fit in there." You said before tilting your umbrella towards yourself.

"I'll see you around." You tell him before giving him a small wave and walking away, a smile still etched on your lips.

Bucky stands there, watching you go, and realizes he didn't ask your name. But he'd be damned if he let you go in that alley alone. He asks one of his men to make sure that you reach your destination safely.

"Keep an eye from afar." He instructs him. Voice cold and commanding.

But the frown on his head and the grimace on his lips are a little less evident on the way back.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" Bucky's voice bellowed around the dark room, startling everyone around him.

"S- sir, I tried." Peter bows his head before whimpering.

Steve, who has been standing beside Bucky's chair leans in to whisper, "He is just a kid, Buck."

Bucky rubs his hand over his face before looking at Peter trying his best to give him a soft look. "Okay, Peter. I don't have time for this. What exactly is the problem here? And don't tell me a full-blown story."

"S-sir, the new bakery. The owner says she isn't going to pay the money. Said something about taxes and also that, 'If I don't barge in there asking for weapons, don't barge into my place asking for money.'

Some of the men standing in the corner chuckle but are rewarded by a glare from Bucky.

"I don't have time to deal with a Baker. Did you tell her that everybody in town pays the money? It's for protection." He says, voice slightly irritated. The townspeople feared him. There was no doubt about that in his mind. Hence, they sent him money at the start of every month diligently. But sometimes, out of the blue, someone would come and try to be the savior, trying to rebel. He didn't understand what they wanted. He wasn't a monster. Over the years, he had relieved some people of paying the money on various occasions.

"I did tell her that, sir. She asked me who exactly is this protection from." Peter whispered, now slightly trembling with fear.

This piqued Bucky's interest. Over the years, nobody had ever asked his men the reason behind the money. They just obliged.

Peter continued, "I told her it's from the mob. Some of us. And she said she isn't going to pay us to do the bare minimum, to be human." Bucky leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes in annoyance.

Steve spoke up, "It's okay, Buck. I'll handle this. You know they all give in eventually."

Bucky opened his eyes and stood up from his chair. "Nope, I will come with you. This is different." He then looked at Sam who was standing at the other end of the room, "Receive the order of the weapons. The delivery is scheduled in an hour."

Same nodded his head before walking out of the room. Bucky dismissed the other men and along with Steve walked towards Peter, both of the men towering over him.

"Peter, are those crumbles of pie on your face?"

A shiver passed through Peter at his cold tone and he willed himself to speak, "She gave it to me, sir. I tried to refuse. Really did. But she said that I am just a kid and don't deserve - " Peter cut himself before he could speak too much. He somehow had the habit of always speaking about stuff that is supposed to be kept secret.

A small smile found its way to Bucky's lips but it was gone as soon as it came and he patted Peter's shoulder dismissing him. "This is different." He said to Steve before walking out of the room.

And for some reason, he was sure it was true.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"We are here, sir."

Bucky looked up from the file he was reading to his driver and then around him. It was one of the good areas of the town where families stayed, holed up in their whole little world, the darkness of the other side not fully reaching them.

Steve instructed the driver and the guard to stay in the car as the both of them walked out. "That is the one," Steve said pointing towards something.

Bucky followed his gaze and his movements faltered for a slight second. He had never seen something so - warm.

A little bakery standing between a bookstore and a cycle stand with sweets adorning its shelves looking delicious enough to lure anybody inside—soft music playing in the little speaker placed outside. People occupying the chairs outside and inside the shop, kids running around with huge grins on their faces, every one into their own little world.

It looked lively.

Bucky couldn't remember seeing something like this in the town before. Maybe he hadn't even bothered, or maybe something had really changed. With their black sunglasses and dressed up in dark colors from head to toe, he wasn't sure if he and Steve were going to fit in, but he couldn't care less.

As they walked closer, Bucky could now see most of the shop and when his eyes landed on the sole person behind the counter, his breath hitched in his throat.

Removing his sunglasses to get a better look, he stopped in his tracks when his suspicions were confirmed.

It was her.

The girl with the floral umbrella and the warm smile.

The girl who had somehow crept her way into his thoughts more than he would like to admit in the past week since he had seen her.

And she was beautiful.

He saw as you stood behind the counter, handing a box to a little girl with a huge grin on your face, the girl jumping up and down in excitement as you leaned towards her to whisper something.

He then saw the little girl run out of the bakery, clutching the box to her chest towards her mother as if it was the most precious thing in the world. When his eyes went back to you, he saw how you talked to the next customer, an old lady, with the same huge grin on your face.

He hadn't noticed that he had been staring until Steve cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. Before Steve could say something, Bucky muttered, "Stay here, let me handle this." He walks towards the stops with a calculated gaze and a perfected aura of confidence.

As he opens the door to the bakery, the smell of coffee and cookies hits him hard and a feeling of warmth engulfs him.

"How can I - " Your words die in your throat when your eyes land on the familiar figure.

Bucky could swear your smile gets wider.

You compose yourself before saying, "Hey, I know you. You are the cute guy from the other day."

Bucky frowns as he takes in your words. Cute? Did you just call him cute? He had been called intimidating, scary, and even sexy. But cute? He was furious. He was anything BUT cute. Also, was he allergic to something in the shop? Why the hell was his stomach suddenly fluttering?

He also ignores the way his heart is beating quicker at the realization that you remembered him. What was happening to him today? "I am looking for y/n l/n."

Your smile turned slightly mischievous as you replied, "That would be me."

Bucky's eyes almost widened at that. "You are y/n? The owner of the bakery?"

"Yup." You said popping the p as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And the last I checked, introductions went both ways."

You raised your hand towards him for a handshake and after looking at your hand for a moment, he shook it. "I am B - James." For some reason, he didn't want you to know who he was. The nickname might give it away.

You smiled at him again before returning your hand, a little too early for Bucky's liking, "So, James. What can I get you?"

He had it all planned. It was like second nature to him. I want my money. Abide by the rules, you don't want to know the consequences. It was the usual. But for some reason, his mouth had gained a mind of its own as it said before he could comprehend, "Cupcakes"

You looked at the huge display of baked goods before looking back at him, "Which one?"

Bucky gave the display a glance, he was sure he hadn't ever tasted most of them. "What do you recommend, sweets?"

He watches as you are visibly taken aback by the nickname. A smirk find its way to his lips as he watched red color creeping up to your neck.

"I - uhm" You take a breath to compose yourself. Get it together. "These red velvet cupcakes just came out of the oven and they are kinda my favorite. So.." You look at Bucky with excitement in your eyes and he likes how passionate you are about your work.

"I'll take a box."

You smile at him before bending down to pack a box of the delicacy and he watches how you oh-so-gently pick up each piece before placing it inside the box with practiced precision.

When you hand over the box to him and your hands brush, you feel the sparks through your spine once again as when you had shaken hands.

When he puts a hand in his pocket to retrieve the money, you cut him off. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."

Bucky smiles a little before replying, "Sweets, you keep giving free goods like that and you'll have to close the shop soon." He says in a teasing voice.

"I'll let you in on a secret, James." You lean towards him as if it is the most secretive thing in the world. "This is a business strategy."

He frowns a little, trying to cover the fact that he was getting too comfortable with how close the both of you were, before saying, "How's that?"

"The first order is on the house but then you come again. And again. It's really profitable."

There is this - innocence and purity in your voice that reminds him of a little child. Of old times. Easier times. And he just stares into your eyes for as long as he can, as if they could help him escape, become a portal to a time long lost.

You don't dare to move either. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you have ever seen. They have this intensity to them as if hiding the stories of a lifetime and you just can't get yourself to look away. You have always loved a good mystery.

Bucky clears his throat, bringing the both of you out of the daze as he brings the teasing tone back to his voice, "What makes you think I will come back?"

You chuckle a little before giving a proud smile. "Oh, you will, James. I trust my cupcakes."

He gives you another small smile as he takes a step back. This is the longest conversation he has had with a person outside his line of work in a very long time. Everybody was just too scared but he couldn't care less.

"Goodbye, sweets." He says before letting the new customer who had just entered go ahead.

"Goodbye, James. Until next time." You add with a wink.

Bucky walks out of the bakery, his initial motive forgotten completely. From the outside, he turns back to look at you for the one last time and watches as you say something that makes the teenage boy laugh while taking out cookies from the shelf.

A moment later, you look towards the window and your eyes meet for a fleeting second. You smile at him and give him a small wave.

Bucky turns around to walk towards his car when he notices Steve standing a few feet away with a knowing smirk on his face.

Bucky rolls his eyes before muttering with clenched teeth, "Don't"

Steve doesn't ask about the money and Bucky is glad. He isn't really sure how he would answer. Whatever happened wasn't what he was expecting. You weren't what he was expecting.

As he slid into the back seat of his car, the image of your smile when you were that close to him lingered in his mind and he couldn't stop the way his lips had pulled slightly upward.

When the car started driving, and with Steve on a phone call, he opened the box of cupcakes and picked one to take a small bite.

As he takes the first bite, the softness and the sweetness of the cake engulf him and leave him wanting more. He doesn't remember eating something this good in a long time.

And for many reasons, he will definitely visit again.

Next part

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blood-teeth · 2 months

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E N T E R T H E L A B Y R I N T H

In the Labyrinth, they talk of gods.

They whisper between their fingers and sweeten their breath with the tales of titans of old who once stood so tall that a single breath would cause earth-tremors, their steps reshaping the ground trod beneath them. Their fingers were the tools that smoothed the mountains into points, shaped and carved the ridges and valleys in between. If you hike far enough, one woman claims, if you travel to a point where the oxygen is thin and your vision blacks, you can make out a partial print against the mountainside. You can run your own fingers along its length and still feel the titan’s warmth as if his palm were pressed right against yours.

The woman says, It is a thing of worship. It is a thing of devotion.

In the Labyrinth, they ask you to make you make your body anew before the King of the High Hills. They say that you are alive because you must suffer for the life and love of the Lord, that you must open your body and let him lick along your flesh so that he may taste the endlessness of his perpetual reign.

In the Labyrinth, there is no escape from his touch.

“You have a heavy burden upon you,” the headmaster was saying, teeth and eyes all a glitter under the amber cast candles. “I am not unsympathetic to the arduous path ahead of you—but please understand that this suffering must be experienced for the longevity of the king, for the beautiful life ahead of him. Only he is the one who can shed mortality and raise to the gods, because he is the only one strong enough, courageous enough, to count the cost of living forever. You must succeed where others have failed. You, this class, this is our last chance to mend what has been made broken. You must. You must.”

The Mouths of Elysium is a dark-academia fantasy created with Twine where your choices matter to the story. You live inside the Labyrinth, a maze that hates to become known with walls and paths that change every hour. The center of the Labyrinth sits a university that has been there since the beginning of time; its only purpose is to recruit students who can solve the puzzle of life, who can create an elixir that would allow the King of the High Hills to live past the length of forever. Failure means a fate worse than death.

You are one of those students.

Althea Callaghan - You know her in death. She has been the taste of rot against your tongue, the anger and hurt in your palms. You see the nice, beautiful lines of her teeth and become a creature of grief unfolding unto yourself. Debase yourself with the fervent want of her. Bend at your waist and beg for forgiveness.

You hate her. You want to watch her bleed. She feels the exact same about you, but what she doesn't know is that every waking moment of your life is dedicated to her.

The Princess/Prince - The forgotten child of the throne. The 405th child of His glorious reign. Divinity runs through their veins, the heir to so much power, but they will never see themselves rule the unforgiving landscape of the Labyrinth. Their fate is to die and be buried amongst the endless graves of their dead brothers and sisters. They must do this so the King may live forever.

A fully customizable MC including gender, appearance, and sexuality

A landscape of horror. A landscape that hates you and everyone who might try to understand it. Go beyond the walls and be witness to a reality worse than death

Key choices that will influence your game and experience. Will you succeed or fail?

Learn what it means to be forgiven. Learn what it means to suffer. Become devotion. Become loyalty. Make your body anew before the King of the High Hills

DEMO (updated 5/19/24)

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multifariousqueer · 1 year

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Hello girl! how are you? doing well?

Can I request a E 42 yandere miles X reader? Am yes, E 42 reader is dead, omg how original XD

But the E 42 reader had this "church girl" or "flower girl" innocent type persona. And when E 1610 reader arrived with miles, she is a loud, cusses out a lot and has a hammer with her at all times.

E 42 miles sees her and while stunned to see such drastic personality change, he still sees his beloved in her and wants to keep her in his world and in his life? Add flashbacks if ya like! you can change it if you want! whatever makes it be awesome! luv you! <3

Hey, love!! I can totally do this

Suerte- Miles G x Reader

A/n: I hope y’all enjoy this!!

Warnings: strong language, angst, suggestiveness, reader being a spider person, descriptions of blood and yandere behavior, kidnapping, lmk if I missed anymore

You were falling off of a building, it seemed your screams would never end as you looked up into the endless sky waiting for someone, anyone to save you. Miles watched as he tried to run and save you but by then it was too late, the sound of your skull hitting the pavement and the crimson blood that flowed from your nose was enough to indicate that you were gone and there was no saving you. Miles cradled your softer skull as the police and ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, Miles woke up in a cold sweat. It was Sunday now, and he had to get ready for church the only reason he was going was because you convinced him too

You managed to convince Miles to do just about anything; he just couldn’t say no to your adorable face and he hated disappointing you. You two seemed like an odd couple at first, with Miles being tough, cold and closed off whereas you were bright, happy, innocent and it seemed like you could do no wrong. You went to church every Sunday, you prayed all the time, you helped everyone and everything and Miles fell for your soft innocence and your warmth. He fell for your simplicity, your poise, your patience and how you felt like a piece of heaven.

The day he lost you was the day he lost himself. Miles was never the same after you left; he closed himself off completely and adopted the Prowler moniker. He felt like he failed you and that you would be so dissapointed if you saw him now. Miles would have flashbacks to you telling him how much you loved him and how you would always love him in every universe, so he decided to pray and beg God for you back and eventually, he got that.

“MILES WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE WE??” you shouted

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT, Y/N” Miles shouted back

You and your Miles were best friends since you both came to Visions. He found out you had powers the same as him and you two clicked immediately. It seemed you two were fated to be together; same music taste, fashion choices and morals its just you were a bit more harsh than him

“I think we’re home?” Miles questioned

“I don’t remember Brooklyn looking this shitty” you said

“It’s just dark, come on, we can go to my house. My mom loves you” you said

Mrs. Morales loved you because not only were you quick on your feet, you also made Miles happy and you made a great first impression. She thought you were exactly like Miles, just more abrasive and she thought you were sweet.

You went to Miles room and it looked different, almost more grown. Your spider-sense went off and just as you went to tell Miles, Rio was there and greeting him. She looked at you like she had seen a ghost, tears spilling from her...green eyes??

“Y/n?” she whispered

“Yeah? Hi Mrs. Morales” you went, going to give her a hug which she reciprocated just more eagerly

��Oh Mija, I thought you were dead. Gracias Dios, you answered my prayers” she said, sobbing and looking up at the sky

Her and Miles had a conversation and you both revealed your identities in which she was indifferent about. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal an Uncle Aaron.

He saw you and his eyes went wide. He stalked closer to you before grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head

“Is it really you, y/n?” he said

“uhh yeah last time I checked” you chuckled, grabbing your body as a joke

“Where did you go? How are you here?” he asked in disbelief

“Well interesting story actually, we used something called our legs and walked here” you joked, usually Aaron could appreciate your humor because it was one of the things he told Miles before he died

“Miles, you won’t find another girl like her. Girls like y/n don’t come around like that so I’d advise you to keep her"

“Got it” Miles would say

It was like you were looking into a portal of dead people, your entire body clenched when his gaze suddenly went cold.

He lead Miles and you to the roof when suddenly, you felt a strong stinging in your neck and just as you were about to hit the floor, a strong pair of arms grabbed you and you heard voices

“She’s not your, y/n man. She’s meaner”

“I don’t care"

You awoke with a splitting headache on a couch. Your limbs were handcuffed together and it was dark; your eyes immediately went to search for your Miles when you saw him tied to a bag

“He won’t be up for a bit, hes out cold. Maybe we can keep him that way” a voice said

“He’s not the only one who’s gonna be out cold. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” you snapped

“Hm. So hostile, my Y/n would never speak like that” a man said approaching you

“Dawg are you smoking crack? Speed? Bath Salts? Because you gotta be fucked up if you think-“ you started

“la muchacha sucia(dirty girl), I should’ve put that gag on you while you were out” he said, taking off his mask to reveal your boyfriend just more gaunt

“Listen here you Rick and Morty knockoff, if you try that, I will bite your finger off, comprende?” you said

“Si. Eres muy bonita pero tu boca es tan asquerosa. I can tell you aren’t from here” he smirked

“Just so you know, just because you called me pretty doesn’t mean I won’t crush your nuts the second I get out of these chains. Listen, your knockoff prowler suit doesn’t scare me and neither do these chains, I could break out right now but I’m intrigued” you said

You heard groaning and saw your Miles move

“MILES” you screamed into the other Miles’ ear

“Y/N. GET AWAY FROM HER” your Miles shouted

The other Miles ignored him but he grabbed your throat and forced you to look up at him

“It’s not a knockoff mami and unless you want to find out just how powerful this suit can be, I suggest you pipe down. It’s gonna take a bit of work, maybe force” he tightened his grip at force, causing your eyes to water and your tongue to come out

“But I think I can make it work. You may not be exactly like her, but you’ll be close enough” Miles said, lowly

If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Miles would’ve found your position hot, you were tied up, tongue hanging out a bit and your eyes looked so pretty; in his mind, you were giving him the “fuck me” eyes but in reality, you were using this as a way to escape

The idea of playing along until he got his wish came to mind but you realized this was deeper than that, he wanted you in every form and if it wasn’t you, what’s to stop him from taking another version of you that may accidentally come by.

“What happened, mami? You had so much to say, say it.” Miles taunted, hand still flush against your throat

“Yeah its kinda hard when you’re choking the life outta me” you said

He took his hand off your throat and you coughed.

“Dude just leave her alone, okay? You can have me, kill me just please let her go” your Miles said, his voice faltering at the end

“Oh but where’s the fun in that? Plus cabron, I don’t want you at all, its not about you. It’s about her and her making a promise

“What promise did I make?” you asked

Miles got a flashback of you laying next to him, playing with his braids and giggling

“I’ll love you in every universe, Miles Morales” you said sweetly

Miles teared up and explained this to you

“Okay well bud, I’m not her and in a way, I do love you in every universe, I love my Miles but” you said before he slammed his fist next to you, causing you to yelp

“I am your Miles, mi amor. At least, I will be. I’m never letting you go again” he said close to your face, hovering above your lips before getting up and striding over to your Miles

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suguru-getos · 1 month

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fractures // geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 1

warnings: abusive!suguru, mentions of cuts, mentions of physical abuse (choking, beating up, chaining), not for the faint-hearted. not beta'd. dead dove do not eat. summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through.

it has been in total of three days since you have been caged in the geto estate, at first, your anxiety and palpitations could not let you sleep, now? you're too exhausted to have those in the first place. it was simple, your parents were millionaires and owed geto some money, they decided not to go ahead with the deal and in turn, Miguel brought you here. in the confined walls of the estate where they crush you chokingly.

it's 3 am, your eyes wide awake in the bed that you're confined to, leg chained to the bedpost and the metallic bite of the chain brushing against your skin, bruisingly. your ankle is tied from the bedpost, you could walk around only to a certain extent. why? because you tried to escape and almost succeeded. now even when you try to sleep, it serves as a reminder of how you are a prisoner here. you hate this, all of this because the cult leader named geto thinks you're useless and a monkey. you don't even have an idea what that means...

---

"they have a daughter." miguel hums at suguru, crossing his arms and manspreading, sitting with geto in his office. the feline eyed man raised a brow, "is that so?" "Interesting..." he hums again, feet tapping on the floor. "Miguel, how does she look like?" his voice laced with curiosity echoed in the room which had the two of them contemplating future plans. "wait, i have a picture.."

and there you were, papped and captured from your morning errand, holding your coffee in your hand and wearing a white tank top, and some parachute pants. you were beautiful, suguru could almost call you perfect. if only... you were not a pathetic monkey. he hates them, and they have no place in his world, they will never be a part of his world...

"i just want to go home- i don't have any idea what you're talking about." another flashback rang through your mind. your first day here, comprising you begging and whimpering against the ropes of the chair you were tied to. "of course you don't, your parents do. your opinions are worthless in this anyway." geto looks at you with disgust, his eyes carry a strange emotion... he just, hated you for existing. nothing else. mere existence...

"fuckers like you who have no morals whatsoever have no other choice but to kidnap huh? fucking asshole!" you snarled, screaming out in frustration. you had no idea how your life could change so easily. a large hand wrapped around your throat the next instant, choking the life out of you with no relent. you struggled, eyes widening and feet kicking with wheezing gasps. "you see?" geto hums, leaning in against your ear and gravely whispering, "this is how easy it is for me to kill you, you're nothing. just a worthless piece of shit born to create curses in this world."

you couldn't do anything, your hands were tied up, you could only see the life you had, flash in front of your eyes before you passed out. suguru has no idea of his strength with a feeble human yet. he leans back, noticing the prominent bruising on your neck once your head leaned back, limp and lifeless. he yanked his hand away, putting some sanitizer on it. "pathetic." he hums, gritting his teeth. you were so weak... so fucking weak and still all you had to do was use that pathetic mouth didn't you?

geto left you there for the night, a very minuscule part of him feeling upset over the way he treated you, he would call himself an asshole for it if it was a sorcerer, but you weren't one. who cares if you're not a sorcerer anyways...

the next day, your eyes blinked awake, a hiss escaping you when you noticed you were still tied up, some of the blood circulation stopped because of the ropes tying your body to the chair. you wanted to scream, but your voice box hurts after yesterday. a grim reminder of what your kidnapper was truly capable of. you sniffled weakly, senses in fight or flight.

before your pitiful breakdown could even commence, manami opened the door, watching you with the same disgust her 'geto sama' carries... what is wrong with these people? truly? why do they look at you like you mean nothing. like you have done the greatest sin of the earth just by being born? "good morning, here's the thing. geto sama has informed your parents that you're under our custody, if they agree to give the money then you're safe to go, or we kill you." she shrugs. killing... is it that normal of a thing to say?

your eyes widened at the sheer panic of it, manami noticing the palpable fear in them and laughing, walking closer to you and untying you roughly; ignoring the scratches the rough rope surface would gift your skin. "take a shower." she yanked you by your hair, throwing you on the floor.

a loud whimper escapes you when your ribs collide with the solid marble, your body was still recovering from being tied up. what is wrong with these people? you're sure you have some visceral damage at this, your internal organs hurt with that throw, blinding pain in your sensitive scalp because of the hold in your hair. suck it up... you need to suck it up. "shouldn't you- treat me like a human at least? if my parents come back for me?" you grunt, using the aid of your palms to get up, a little dizzy.

manami cocks a hip out, "geto sama was right, you have a smart mouth for a monkey." she scoffs, walking outside with a hold on your nape. you stumble on the floor, how is this woman so strong? you couldn't understand why... you couldn't budge in her grip on you.

everything is hazy after, except you were force-fed hot soup for telling geto to kill himself during dinner, and not fed at all the next day, getting captured as well for running away and now a chain on your ankle.

you close your eyes, hugging yourself tightly. you need to be your own comfort. you have to be your own comfort. but its hard... the way they look at you, the way they treat you, everything is making you wish you were better off dead. why are your parents taking so long in the first place? what's wrong with them really?

your body is exhausted, unable to keep up with the constant stress. you do end up getting dazed to sleep. although its filled with nightmares. you're woken up to an echo of a voice.

"good morning, i'm sure these don't feel good." geto hums, and you jolt awake, leaning instinctively against the headboard. eyes glossed, fear dancing through your nerves. you don't respond. why is he here? "i didn't think you were that dumb to try to run yesterday." he clicks his tongue, looking at you. gosh you still have the popped lip from when manami hit you after getting caught. some of it is in your nose too. geto sighs, its the way you behave that he gets conflicted. he has always been an underdog supporter, now a bunch of powerful sorcerers were torturing a frail human just because of money...

maybe he should do you a favor and kill you instead. he could just tell your parents that they delayed in sending the sum of money and take the money anyway.He wants to stay true to his word but also wants to return you to them. another part of him... which he hates the most, almost wants to hug you and apologize. That part is the reason you're being treated this way.

"you're not answering me." he raises a brow, watching you shiver with fear and flinch at the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry, won't run again." you managed to say meekly; within three days of you being here, you look like a completely different person. your neck is bruised, your face is bruised, your hair is a mess, you are chained to a room. it is drastic for you, geto knows that. "hm, you know the consequences aren't too great, i would just listen to me if i were you." he adds on, watching your shoulders slump in defeat. my god were you beautiful, you were perfect in his eyes, someone he should have taken on dates if his life was normal. thanks to your disgusting kind, his life isn't normal.

"manami will come to you with breakfast." he stands up with that, and your heart races. you hate that woman and the way she treats you. you wouldn't say geto is any better but at least he isn't downright awful... so far. you nodded, getting up to go and shower at least. the clank of chains in your ankle echoes in the room, and it makes geto stand still for a moment. the flash of his little girls caged haunts in his eyes. isn't he doing something similar to you.

"y/n." he says your name, watching your eyes slowly dart towards him. "if you behave for a few days, the chain will be gone."

you don't respond to that, walking away. suguru bites his lip, he hates this feeling he's getting. a frog in his fucking throat and it's just been four days of you being here. he shouldn't deter from his thoughts like this anyway. you're a monkey, a useless monkey who should be killed as soon as possible.

manami comes in with breakfast and you could only manage a few bites despite not being able to eat properly. manami was not that mean today, all she said that she expected you dead but you're not yet. she says this everyday, nothing ordinary.

meanwhile, your parents have decided to actually manage the sum of money, but it will take time. they inform geto of the same. your mom pathetically sobbing for her little baby girl. "don't worry, she will be alive and kicking, i will keep my word. you have 10 days." suguru cuts the phone call after.

you... would be elated to hear this news wouldn't you? you should be! and so he walks towards your room, where you were laying on the mattress, leg bruised and bleeding. his eyes widen a little. what did you fucking do?

you had a big and a deep gash on your ankle, from the looks of it, you were trying to get free from the chains. what did you even use for this? his eyes land to the sharp enough culinary knife on your bedside table. you were crazy, any other monkey girl would simply behave and let time decide her freedom. why did you want to be so miserable?

"y/n." he mumbles your name again, and your eyes land on him, "geto" you respond, you didn't even carry any malice when you said your name. he walks towards you, getting the first aid from your cupboard and tending to your leg. "if you want an easy enough death, just ask me." he's sure you'd have another panic attack at this statement. you've been having one every day for the past four days after all.

"hm, gimme n' easy death then" you hummed, emotionless as ever. "cus i think m' parents don't give a shit anyway." a stray tear escapes through your eyes, followed by a soft hiccup of a choked sniffle. geto stays quiet at that. yesterday night, he had a dream of you smiling. or what he envisioned your smile would look like... it would surely make you look more beautiful than you already are. he's so sure of it.

"it's not like that, they did contact me and soon you'll be free." he smiled, the close-eyed feline curve that charms everyone fails to work on you. "i see." you hum, and geto trifled with the metallic cuffs on your ankle, gently putting them away. he can't really let you be this miserable. it was pathetic, it was making him pathetic.

"sorcerers exist to protect the weak." his own voice echoes which he preached satoru with. a soft sigh escaping him. he hates you. he hates what you do to him and he hates how you're having this effect on him without even trying. "yeah, a few more days of me tolerating a hooker-looking pest like you." he grits his teeth, getting up. you blinked, unsure what the sudden change in his demeanor signified. all you could do was brace. brace for another attack.

suguru watches you do so, and that sends a shiver down his spine. what's happening to him? he kills monkeys without remorse! maybe he should kill you, fuck your parents, fuck their money. fuck you.

"since you really like using the knife how about i teach you how to use it hm?" you blinked when he spits those words out, feet stomping and holding the knife up. before you could even lean away he has your wrist in his hold, hot tears streaming down your face with the way your heart thumped loud from your mouth. "please please- no no- what're you-" the pointed tip of the knife glides down your skin, and despite your gutteral, blood-curdling screams and pleas, geto only lets go of your hand when he's written the word 'MONKEY' in your arm. throwing the knife away and watching you bleed.

"i hate you, stupid monkeys." he walks away with that, while you succumb to the ache and pass out. it hurts, you could feel the blood trickling down the mattress before your body lulls you to sleep.

meanwhile, suguru shuts himself in his room, the daunting sound of the door shutting down loud and him covering his ears with tears streaming down his face. what's he even doing? why did he have to do that? oh he knows why. he wanted to prove a point that he doesn't feel anything when he hurts a monkey. that he relishes in it... but that didn't happen.

didn't happen at all...

just nine more days with you until suguru geto gets rid of you and proceeds with his mission to kill all non-sorcerers.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #fractures geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #geto angst #geto suguru angst

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tieronecrush · 10 months

Text

seven minutes in heaven (the bathroom)

frankie morales x f!reader

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: it's your roommate ben miller's birthday and he's invited the special forces guys over and asked you to invite some of your friends. the night comes down to a throwback game of seven minutes in heaven. you've been into frankie for months, so when your name and frankie's are pulled together, you can't help but wonder what can happen in seven minutes?

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of a break up, alcohol use/drunkeness (benny), grumpy frankie, use of pet names (mariposa, hermosa, cariño), dirty talk in spanish (i hate conjugations so pls let me know if anything is wrong lol), mirror sex, unprotected sex, breathplay? (mouth gets covered), pls let me know if i am missing anything

“You gotta be kiddin’ me, man. Why are we playing this shit? We’re all grown adults,” Frankie huffs to your right in the small circle in yours and Ben Miller’s living room. His arms are crossed over his chest, gray t-shirt pulling taut at his shoulders. Warm brown eyes are rolling up to the ceiling under the brim of his Standard Oil hat that you swear is glued to his head — you’ve never seen him without for as long as you’ve lived with Benny — and it works to hide the luscious dark curls that fight to peek out around it.

“Oh, loosen up, Fish! We’re all here to have fun, so just play the game. Everyone here’s agreed to it, and it’s my fucking birthday so you have to do what I say!” Benny leans forward next to you on the couch, projecting his voice toward Frankie and gesturing vaguely around with his hands while his words start to slur together.

You laugh softly, patting Ben’s shoulder and nodding your head to get him to lean back on the couch again instead of trying to get in his friend’s face. Truth was, the prospect of this game did stir up some nerves in your stomach, even as an adult, but you wouldn’t dare go against Benny’s birthday wishes. So, you’re stuck playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with his Special Forces buddies, his brother, and a good mix of your friends that Benny has…taken a liking to.

It was one of the perks he got excited about when you’d come to him, a bit desperate, needing a place to live when your long term boyfriend of four years broke it off with you and asked you to move out. He agreed to have you in his guest room for the foreseeable future until you could scrounge up enough for rent somewhere on your own, and that first weekend he begged to throw you a “welcome party”, which was his ploy to get a bunch of your friends over for him to chat up.

That was a few months ago now, and it happened to also be the first time you met Frankie — Catfish to the Special Forces guys.

And since then, it’s been months filled with tension between you two, awkward interactions and quick touches to pass him drinks or him scooting behind you in your tiny kitchen when he was over. It was always heated with you two, electricity flowing with a current and waiting for a spark. But Frankie was a gentleman, never assuming or overly forthcoming, and you were, well, rusty. Not dating in four years really throws you for a loop when trying to hook up with someone.

Frankie’s eyes meet yours when your laugh reaches him, a flash of excitement evident in the widening of his pupils. A smile stretches across your face at him, shaking your head.

“Probably don’t want to go against this birthday boy, Frankie. He’s not afraid to guilt you into things, or worse, just bother the shit out of you until you do what he wants. Plus, nobody has to know what does or doesn’t happen behind the door.”

Ben whips his head towards you with an exaggerated shock in his face, Frankie’s chuckle low as everyone else laughs.

“Don’t give him any ideas about not fully immersing in the game. He’s just bein’ a grumpy old bastard.”

Benny turns away from you as Frankie rolls his eyes again, the birthday boy pulling out two names from the bowl in the center. It ends up being one of your friends and Santiago, which earns a cheer knowing his suave reputation. Once the two are back in the bathroom, the younger Miller brother sets a timer on his phone and everyone gets to chatting and drinking again. You and Benny argued back and forth before the party about using the other’s room for the game, finally deciding to use the hall bath for sake of neutrality. And clean sheets.

A handful of rounds have come and gone, people returning with smirks or poker faces, everyone trying to pull out any information from the participants. You have yet to go, and it’s the same case for Frankie. Benny’s been choosing the names for everyone, hiding them close to his chest and throwing them back in the bowl to be selected again.

You watch Ben pick out two new slips, reading your name off of the first one. Echoes of your quickening pulse thud in your ears, heat rooting across the nape of your neck. Ben’s eyes dart to Pope as he looks at the second slip of paper, and your stomach drops with disappointment from the high hopes you didn’t realize you had. Your own eyes fall to your lap as you wait to hear Santiago’s name out loud, molars biting the inside of your cheek to attempt to swallow your small pill of upset.

“And Fish.”

Your vision fills with Ben’s side profile, your stomach now doing somersaults as nerves begin to take over. Your mouth dries, tongue pushing against the roof of your mouth and sucking in your cheeks to try to conjure up any saliva. Frankie seems nearly as surprised, or is it nervous? Contempt? He’s hard to read at the moment; the only clues into his reaction are the split second of widened eyes and rubbing his palms up and down his denim-clad thighs before he stands and looks at you.

The hooting and hollering start when you get up from your spot on the couch, small steps leading Frankie and yourself down the hallway away from the party and into your bathroom. Nothing is said as he closes the door and locks it, his large frame turning back to face you across the small tiled floor while he leans back on the door’s surface.

His eyes lock on you, pinprick shocks following their wake as he takes you in from head to toe. There’s still a neutral expression on his face, hands slipped into his front pockets. Your own gaze fixed on your tray of makeup at the side of vanity, anxious fingers reaching out to fidget with a lip gloss. The silence in the room is deafening, the muffled sounds of the group only filling the dead air so much. After what feels like an eternity, you can’t take it, clearing your throat and speaking up.

“We don’t, um, obviously don’t have to do anything.”

You’re still not looking at Frankie when you hear his gruff voice respond.

“Is that what you want, mariposa? To do nothing?”

He grabs your attention with the nickname, a swirl of butterflies batting their wings wildly in your gut when you take in a new expression on his face. Tender eyes with a flirty smirk. Pushing off of the door, his strides take him only two steps before he’s in front of you, hand pulling his hat up and the other raking through his hair in a nervous twitch. Your lower back presses into the edge of the countertop, mouth blubbering like a fish as you try to formulate a sentence.

“Cause, if I’m honest, I don’t want to do nothing,” Frankie’s hand finds the counter at your side, one arm brushing against your shirt. His other reaches for your cheek, hovering over close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating off of his palm, “I’ve really wanted to kiss you since I met you. Can I please do that, hermosa?”

“Yeah, you can, Frankie,” comes out breathy and pathetic from your mouth, half a whimper as you wait for the moment you’ve thought of since you saw him in your kitchen.

In an instant, Frankie’s lips are on yours in a gentle but confident kiss. His hand has found your cheek finally, laying passively before it grips tighter and tilts your head back to give him more leverage over you. The embrace turns heady, his mouth slanted into yours as the two of you move together quickly to make up for all the lost moments from months prior.

When his tongue melds against yours, a soft moan slips out and is swallowed into his mouth. The noise pushes Frankie toward you, close to the point that his front is pressed entirely against you. You can feel how hard he is, the way his bulge digs in against you sending another moan out of your mouth. His large hands leave their places on your cheek and the counter, grabbing fistfuls of your hips and your ass. Frankie pulls away enough to speak against your swollen lips, short and demanding.

“Up.”

With one effortless lift as you jump, you're seated on the countertop, and Frankie’s kissing you hard again. Your own hands rest one on his shoulder, the other reaching to take his cap off and discard it on the ground, fingers combing through his hair. An arm wraps around your lower back, tugging you across the cool stone surface to the edge. His other hand grips the back of your thigh, pulling your legs further apart to slot himself between them, grinding himself against your clothed center. The feeling of pressure on your clit makes your head fall back from his kiss, a whimper pulling out of your chest as your hips work to catch more of the feeling.

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure we don’t have much time left before someone’s gonna be banging down the door, but I want you so bad right now, hermosa.”

Your head drops forward again, staring into Frankie’s eyes that are very clearly blackened with desire even in the low lighting of the bathroom. Licking your bottom lip, you nod quickly and mutter out.

“Fuck me, Frankie. I don’t care how fast or rough you need to be, just please fuck me.”

A groan comes from him at your words as he grabs you again, dragging you off the counter to stand on your feet again. His hands on your hips turn you around to face the mirror, making eye contact in the reflection.

“Take your shorts and panties off for me, cariño. Gotta be quick.” He winks at you, a light smack to your ass before he pops the button on his jeans and drags the zipper down. You do the same with your denim shorts, dropping the material along with your underwear to your ankles, stepping one out.

Behind you, Frankie has pulled his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs. One of his hands finds your lower back, gently coaxing you to bend forward on the counter. His other set of fingers prod through your folds, a breathy moan coming from him as he feels your wetness.

“This all from me kissing you, hermosa?”

“Nah uh. It’s from just being in the same room as you all night.”

“Mmm, you’ve wanted me that bad, angel? Should’ve said something. We could’ve been having lots of fun these past few months.”

“I was—I was shy.”

Frankie shakes his head as he looks at you in the mirror, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Don’t think you’re shy now, cariño. Eres una chica traviesa (You’re a naughty girl),” his fingers slip into your entrance for a few ticks, a gasp fogging the glass in front of you as he pulls them out, “You ready for me, mariposa? Might be a lot to take.”

He winks with a smug look on his face, messy curls hanging over his forehead and framing his face.

“Francisco, just fuck me already. We’re losing time that you could be inside of me.” Your frustration bubbles over out of impatience. He waits for another beat to tease you, and when you open your mouth to complain again, he drives his cock into you.

His smugness was granted — the way he’s filling you up completely is unlike anyone you’ve had before.

As if he knew your reaction before it happened, his hand covers your mouth to muffle the loud moan that jerks out of you. Frankie wastes no time, his thrusts starting fast and hard from behind.

“This what you wanted, mariposa? Wanted me to fuck your hard and fast? A mi chica le gusta sucio, no? (My girl likes it dirty, right?)”

Your response is stifled by his hand, the only sounds in the room Frankie’s low voice and the slap of his thighs against your ass. Your eyes screw shut at the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of your walls quickly, the head of his length brushing that extra sensitive spot inside of you.

“Nah uh, cariño. Eyes open. Want you to watch me fuck you like the dirty girl you are.” Frankie’s hand squeezes your ass tightly, a yelp coming out of your mouth from behind his hand. You open your eyes and look at him in the mirror, sweat building on your forehead and your exposed collarbone. He makes eye contact with you in the reflection, his hips fucking into you rougher.

“Fuck, don’t you look pretty taking my cock? Es todo lo que soñaste, hermosa? (Is it everything you dreamed of, beautiful?)”

Your tongue pokes out of your mouth, licking the salty skin of his fingers. Frankie groans quietly and shifts the position of his hand, two of his thick fingers pressing in between your lips to fill your mouth.

“Chupa, cariño. Suck.”

Following his demand, your cheeks concave and your tongue swirls around them in your mouth. Frankie’s eyes darken further as he watches in the reflection, thrusts becoming sloppier.

“‘M so close, cariño, don’t think I can last much longer. You gotta be quiet while I take care of you, yeah?”

Without an answer, his fingers slip from your mouth. His other hand finds your lower stomach, pulling you up to stand with your shoulders against his chest, cock filling you up with each drag of his hips. The fingers wet with your saliva are quick to circle your clit, the extra stimulation barreling you towards the edge.

“Oh fuck, Frankie! Yes, yes, yes!” Your whines are as quiet as you can make them, the back of your head pressing hard into his shoulder as his next thrust sends your vision black and muscles taut. Every thought in your brain seeps away, pleasure filling every crevice of you.

Your walls squeeze around his cock, nails digging into his arm around you as he fucks you through your orgasm while chasing his own.

“Fucking hell, mariposa. Pussy’s fucking milking my cock, god. So tight. Eres tan perfecta para mi (You are so perfect for me).”

He thrusts his cock one, two, three more times before he pulls out quickly, replacing the feeling of you with his fist and repeating your name over and over under his breath. The sound of your come around his cock nearly drops you to your knees to take him in your mouth, but the looming pressure of time keeps you standing, compromising by bending over the counter again. Ropes of his warm come paint your ass and your wet cunt, a whine falling from your lips as his own soft, melodic whimpers fill your ears.

It’s quiet in the room except for the gasps of breaths you both take to calm down, eye contact made through the mirror as you both smile widely at each other. Nothing else is spoken as Frankie grabs tissues from the shelf above the toilet, wiping his come from your skin. Before he clean it up entirely, you swipe a fingertip through one streak, bring it to your lips to suck it clean. His mouth hangs open at the sight and you smirk satisfied, winking before you pull up your underwear and fasten your shorts up again.

Both of you are buttoning as a fist pounds on the door, the sound of a phone alarm following it. Benny’s voice booms from the other side, a cackle evident in his tone.

“Time’s up, boring fucks!”

Frankie looks at you with a sweet smile, nodding toward the door, “Ready?”

You exhale a chuckle and nod, taking a look in the mirror and making eye contact with Frankie as he looks at your reflection tenderly. Your hands brush at your hair, tapping the sweaty makeup back into your skin. Frankie shakes his head behind you, tugging you around by your belt loops. He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Ladies first, mariposa.”

You step ahead of him, swinging the door open after twisting the lock undone and being met with a stumbling Benny on the other side.

He looks between the two of you, suspicion on his face as he tries to read your minds. Both of you have a poker face on, and he groans, shaking his head.

“Took you both long enough. What, were you fixing your clothes?”

“No, Frankie was just watching as I fixed up my makeup and had a catch-up. Nothing exciting for you to gossip about, Benny.”

He groans, marching back to the living room, “They didn’t do anything! Just fucking talked like losers.”

Frankie chuckles behind you, his warm palm rubbing against your lower back as you walk down the hall in front of him. His touch drops from you when you enter the party, both of you returning to your original seats and falling back into the conversation as the game switches to Truth or Dare.

Santiago glances at Frankie sitting next to him, chuckling to himself, “Zipper’s down, Fish.”

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