#but every time i do a rewatch it drives me up the fucking WALL

[patternoticer]

the “give me some more time in a dream” -> “give me some rope tie me to dream” subtitle shift in community constitutes a genre shift

#community #it's possible this is a post with an audience of 1 (me) #but every time i do a rewatch it drives me up the fucking WALL

[enixamyram]

I have tried really hard to ignore anti nonsense. I just wanna focus on the good and positive side of this fandom and just enjoy the series in general. But it's also hard bottling up thoughts when I'm used to ranting for the sake of getting my thoughts and feelings out and moving then on.

So I'm gonna put a couple reactions to Anti-Related Hazbin things under the read more just to get them out! Because my god, some of these are bullshit!

Chaggie - I've seen so much bullshit citicizm for this ship. People claiming they're boring or bland or badly written and I have yet to see a legit reason why other than that they don't have any typical relationship drama (which, for the record, I personally am so relieved about) or because they're not being overly affectionate every five minutes of screen time. And you know, this especially drives me crazy because they have some of the sweetest little gestures, whether it be holding hands, hugging, swinging each other round or even just the constant damn heart eyes they have when looking at each other in the background! They're so damn precious and if you can't see that, you don't know what a legit established relationship is supposed to be past the honeymoon phase.

Charlie - People once again have claimed she's badly written. I don't know why people seem to hate happy kind hearted females so much but I have seen this exact complaint about many characters who are similar to her. None of which are actually badly written. They're just not the new stereotype "bad asses" that seems to be the only acceptable way to write a female character lately. Which is ironic since a lot of the so called "bad ass" female characters I have seen are often so one dimensional. Yet we have Charlie, a kind hearted but also sometimes naive girl who is doing her best while also learning with the rest of her friends and ya'll are gonna try and claim she's not amazing? The more I rewatch the show, the more I wanna reschedule my favorite character list because there's not a second I don't adore having her on my screen.

Niffty - This one really makes me want to slam my head against the wall. I have seen so many people complain and claim she acts like a child. Bare in mind, I've just watched episode 3 - you know, the one where Niffty is fully ready to throw herself into the BDSM that Angel takes them to. The only thing close to evidence that I have seen for her acting like a child is the episode where she gets drunk except she's still not acting like a child there, she's acting like a drunk! When some people are drunk they're silly and dumb and very "child-like". Otherwise, the only reason I think people call her a child is because she's is literally small like one. Yet, if you actually look at anything past her basic physical appearance, she's a crazy murder machine and I don't know many children I can also give that title to.

Angel - This is so old and everyone else has said this all so much better than me but I just really want to repeat: Just because it's not YOUR representation doesn't mean it's BAD representation. Just because you dealt with your sexual assault in a certain way does not mean everyone deals with it that way and it sure as hell doesn't give you a right to dismiss others. I have seen so many people say they identify with Angel's character and his hypersexuality, so it is so annoyingly arrogant to see people trying to shut them down entirely because Angel's character isn't portraying their personal reactions. It's just so amazingly self-centered to be saying that if you can't personally relate to it exactly, then it shouldn't exist at all. Seriously, grow the fuck up.

Loser Baby/Poison - Again, this has been said so many times before by other people but I'm gonna add/repeat. Some people take these songs and videos so damn literally. I saw someone claim Angel was happy during his dance with Valentino in Poison which apparently made the whole character a contradiction? Completely ignoring the parts where he's clearly miserable or the part where he's clearly putting on a fake smile or even the part where he all out says he dissociates to get through. And then you have Loser Baby where people are outraged that Husk call Angel a loser and is apparently trying to compare their situations? I mean, he's obviously not saying they're situations are the same if you think about it for more than two seconds. Like, are you seriously this literal? If I said the message went over your head, would ya'll look up?

#Hazbin Hotel #Mini Rant #Anti Anti's #Chaggie #Charlie Morningstar #Niffty #Angel Dust #Loser Baby #Poison #I have yet to see someone give these “critics” #that doesn't also openly hate Vivzie. #And I'm not even going into the Vivzie bs because that's so old #and I'm so over these haters. #Anway #I'm gonna post some random positive screen shots now #cause I'm keeping my attitude happy for this fandom #because I genuinely adore so much of it #I'm not letting haters ruin it for me.

[moonlightndaydreams]

I feel we're going too easy on our boys. Jealousy is hot and all, and having physical contact with the opposite sex can be a lot for them but

I just watched Lady Marmalade mv (i rewatch it around five times per week religiously because it's golden) and it made me think, is those previous things already drive them mad...how they would react seeing her doing a cover that's very close to the original? I'm talking about everything: The vibes, the lingerie, the story that tells

You get me

18+ Minsung x Original Female Character // oral sex // orgasms // unprotected sex // threesome m/m/f

Minsung Rouge

The performance at the exclusive establishment was one of Melanie’s favourites to dance at. Boudoir meets Cabaret meets Masquerade party. That’s the vibe.

It wasn’t seedy in any way. It was refined. It was tasteful, and it let Melanie perform in a way that felt, sexy, empowering and seductive. It allowed her to let her creativity run wild and she could improvise and change her routine depending on what the audience needed.

The show only allowed up to ten guests (the audience) per night, and the rule was the audience members had to wear masks like you would a masquerade ball.

And… a lot of attendees were make kpop idols. It was a place where they could enjoy this kind of performance without risk.

The night would normally run as follows:

- Before show drinks and nibblies, with pre-show dances.

- The main stage performance where all the dances performed.

- A break where light refreshments and more snacks were provided.

- The individual shows, that were private or semi private. These took place in various sets such as a bedroom, dressing room, a mini stage and a bar lounge.

The rules were no touching (the performers or themselves), and no full nudity.

Of course there wasn’t much left up the imagination though because they performed in lingerie.

Tonight Melanie was taking the bedroom / boudoir themed performance. Her audience was two young idols.

She took the pair into her boudoir where there was a lavish four poster bed, a gorgeous plush rug on the floor, French style painting were hung on the walls, and 2 velvet tub style armchairs positioned some distance from the foot of the bed.

Melanie gives her audience her best, most enthusiastic, most sexy performance for the two men before her, whilst they say perfectly still. Every now and then the taller one would bring his hand to his mouth like he was deep in thought. The shorter, would fidget in his seat whenever she did anything “extra” sexy.

After she’s finished her performance, she looks at the two men with some sort of seductress “fairy ending” pose. It is the perfect finishing touch.

One of the men wordlessly gets up (Minho) and walks over to the ensure the door is locked. This is absolutely against the rules, but she knew who the two men were all along. Why do you think she put in such extra effort? she wanted to ignite whatever it was that seemed to happening to them lately.

She recognised the men’s bodies. She could see their hair. Their mannerisms were obvious (although far less reserved than usual). Fuck they were even wearing clothes she’d seen before! And their mouths! She couldn’t mistake Jisung’s sneer, or Minho’s mouth when it hangs open in awe.

Maybe they weren’t trying to hide their identities? Maybe they were only wearing the mask because it was the rules of the venue?

The tension is thick. She feels both vulnerable and powerful. The silence is communicating one glaringly obvious thing - they were finished playing games with her. They were going to make their move. Finally.

Minho moved from the door to the music player, setting it to some sultry French music. Jisung sat with his arms hanging over the chair arms and she could see his eyes boring into her from behind the mask.

As the music filled the room, her body relaxed slightly and she (finally)exhaled. This feeling, the awkwardness, the tension, she’d felt it before when the men wanted to learn a trio dance. Fuck that ended awkwardly.

But she’d noticed that since then they’d stand a little closer to her, or they’d brush past her unnecessarily. They’d sometimes come at her from both sides and press against her. It’d wake her pussy up and she’d have to abruptly excuse herself.

But now Minho is sitting on the bed at her side. Jisung drags the tub armchair close to the bed making her have to bend her knees and lift her feet up out of the way. He sits back on the chair taking her gently by the ankles and placing them on the seat on either side of Jisung’s legs.

Minho takes her chin gently in his hand, turning her head so she’s facing him. She looks down to his lips. They are parted as though he’s in awe with her. His hand lands on her stocking clad thigh and he growls as grips it harder. He suddenly looks hungry as he leans forward and takes her in a kiss.

For second her mind is going crazy with many thoughts at once. “What is happening?”, “this can’t be happening”, “This shouldn’t be happening”, “ Oh fuck… it’s happening”, “It feels good”, “I want more”.

Minho slowly lowers her down to the bed without breaking the kiss. At the same time she feels Jisung’s hands sliding up her thighs.

Melanie was a confident and strong woman, but right now these men made her melt. This feeling was new. It was confusing. It was concerning that they could make her swoon like this. Especially when only minutes before she was the one in control.

“Tell me kitten,” Minho says. He’s still in his mask. “Do you give other idols performances like this?” His thumb brushes her lip. Jisung’s hands are exploring her inner thighs.

Minho kisses her neck, his breath hot. “Do you dance that for Chan? Or Hyunjin?”

Melanie let’s out a whimper. “I dance like that for everyone.” She states.

Minho’s hands are all over her now. Jisung’s fingers have reached her lace underwear. His finger strokes her clit through the lace. She’s wet. He’d have to feel it.

“You dance like that for everyone… but we want you to do more than that for us.” He peppers kisses across her collarbone.

“We’re tired of having to keep our distance. We’re tired of pretending you don’t turn us on.” Adds Jisung.

“But, this… this is inappropriate - ” she protests.

Minho pulls away and takes off his mask. “Do you want us to stop?” He looks at her seriously. Jisung’s movements have halted.

“Because if you don’t want us to stop, there’s so much Jisung and I want to do to you”. He doesn’t break eye contact. “We’re tired of not being able to be close to you, or look at you, or touch you.”

The look in Minho’s eyes convey so much want and need. She glances down to Jisung who has also discarded his mask, and meets his questioning eyes.

Then it hits her like a tonne of brick. She wants to give them what they want. Give them what they’ve missing and yearning for.

She looks back and forth between the two desperate men and bites her lip.

“Please… keep going.” She doesn’t recognise her voice, but then everything happens fast.

Minho’s back on her mouth with his. Her underwear is pushed to the side and Jisung’s wet, eager tongue is deep in her pussy. The men’s hands are caressing her entire body. It feels like heaven. “Please… what do want to do with me? How do you want me?” She sounds out of breath.

Minho breaks the kiss and looks into Melanie’s eyes. “Can I watch Jisung fuck you?” His voice is deep and husky.

Her vagina clenches “Yes… yes…” she looks down to Jisung, he’s eyes are fixed on hers as he stands and removes his belt. He swiftly frees his hard cock, then looks down at her pussy. With one hand he pulls her lace underwear aside, and with the other he rubs his cock through her lips, then sinks himself into her. “Fuck, Mel…” he chokes. He starts to move, causing Melanie to whine.

“Ji, how does she feel?” Minho asks his eyes focused on watching Jisung’s cock appearing and disappearing into you. He licks his lips when Jisung withdraws and he can see her wetness glistening on his cock.

“So fucking wet…and tight… you’ve wanted this as much as us haven’t you, baby?” He pants.

Melanie looks to Minho and palms his erection through his pants. Minho hisses, then smirks “You want my cock to huh?” He says.

She nods, licking her lips. Why did she have to seem so needy? “Want your cock.”

Minho release his aching dick and straddles Melanie’s chest, offering the head of his penis towards her mouth.

She eagerly wraps her hand around it and takes him in her mouth. His cock is perfect. Minho is about to find out she’s incredible at giving blowjobs. “Jesu-fuck… oh god you take me so well, kitten.” she picks up the pace, putting all her enthusiasm into pleasuring Minho. She cries around his cock when Jisung changes the angle of his thrusts.

Minho decides he needs to come at her from the side so he can watch Jisung again, and he gets even harder when he sees Jisung pick up the pace, thrusting into her hard. Minho reached down to rub her clit.

It sends Melanie over, and she comes so fucking hard. The sight it too beautiful for Jisung and Minho and they come within seconds of each other. Jisung deep in her pussy and Minho in her mouth.

Jisung pulls out and climbs on top of her, kissing her deeply, taking some of Minho’s cum for himself. He peels away from her mouth. “You’re ours now.” He whispers deviously, then gives her a big gummy grin.

“Only ours.” Minho agrees.

@lyramundana @2chopsticks2eyes @channieandhisgoonsquad

@chansmandy @mjmuff801

#han jisung smut #minsung smut #poly minsung #skz asks #lady marmalade meets Minsung #Vivi/Mel x Minsung

[irish-trash-cash]

Oh mt GOD I need more of Oz and Nell just fucking there brains out

No Release

The Batman (2022) Oz Cobblepot x OC/Reader

Word Count: 2,300

Thank you for asking me to write more! Once again this is absolutely shameless smut. No plot- a few paragraphs and they’re fucking. I’m not sorry, I just want to ruin this old man’s life.

I’ve been rewatching The Sopranos and James Gandolfini is making me think filthy things about Oz.

Warnings: Sexual content, strong language.

-

“We’ll just be real quiet about it when Carmine’s around.” Oz’s words echo in Nell’s head.

Yeah, real fucking quiet.

Oz was seated across from them in a leather armchair, and Nell was incredibly distracted by the sound of his ring tapping his whisky glass as he did his damnedest to give them his best fuck-me eyes.

In the middle of a meeting with the aforementioned Carmine.

Nell was tense, to say the least. It was taking everything in her not to check Oz out. He was dressed pretty casually- a white button down and navy slacks, paired with his usual suspenders and a colorful tie. He takes a moment to cuff his sleeves- and Nell’s eyes trail to the flex of his hands and the glint of his Rolex as he rolls the material up his forearms.

Their gazes meet again and he smiles- Oz knows exactly what he’s doing.

They hadn’t been… intimate since that night in his office- they’d hardly had time for one another. Sure, Nell had been around him every day while they were on the clock, but they’d taken enough of a risk fucking in his office during operating hours, and it wasn’t like they had much time in private. A fact that was beginning to drive Nell up a wall.

Their frustration wasn’t going unnoticed- Oz had seen the tension in them all week and he loved it. He’d gone out of his way to touch them however he could- simply because he could- and the effect he had on them was a sight to behold. The way they’d lean toward him and sigh as he runs a hand over the small of their back- Nell’s suit separating them too much to enjoy it- pulling him in close for a kiss before leaving the Lounge in the early morning and returning to their respective apartments.

Nell does their best not to blush as Oz stares them down- they don’t even register what Carmine is saying- the only thing on their mind is how quickly the meeting will be over with so they can get Oz alone. It had been a while since Nell had been serious with anyone- and they realized after a few days that their imagination was not enough to sate them. They wanted Oz- his hands, his mouth, his words- fuck. They can feel themself throb at the thought of leaving the meeting- following him back to the Maserati and pulling him into the backseat. It was pouring rain and late at night, surely no one would know if he just bent them over and-

“Have a good night, Carmine.” Oz’s words bring Nell back to reality as he stands, and Nell obediently follows, nodding at their shared boss and finally turning to the door. She feels warm, and she thanks god that her collared shirt hides the lingering bruises along her neck.

The tension between them is palpable as Nell follows Oz down the hall. It’s a Wednesday night and there’s no chance the Lounge will have any visitors. So Nell once again decides fuck it and reaches forward, wrapping a hand around Oz’s arm and pulling him hard to the left. He protests of course, but Nell silences him with a kiss that he eagerly reciprocates- teeth clashing as they throw open the door to one of the Club’s private rooms and back inside.

Oz knows exactly what her intentions are, and he closes the door behind them as Nell grabs him by the tie, pulling him closer. He makes quick work of her jacket- thankful that she wasn’t wearing a side arm tonight- and tosses it to the floor while she makes quick work of her belt.

“You’re that fucking needy, huh Doll?” Oz practically sneers, lips brushing against hers as deft hands grab at the buttons of her shirt. If any other man had treated them this way- getting handsy- speaking to them so filthily- Nell would have knocked his lights out. But coming from Oz? It was so enticing. Nell feels themself flush as he just manhandles them, backing them into the pool table at the center of the room, and Nell doesn’t resist as he grabs them by the collar and bends them over it.

At that point Nell realizes neither of them had turned the lights on and they bury their head in their arms to stifle a moan as Oz’s hands find their way under their shirt, trailing down their waist and giving a squeeze. The sound of the rain outside is loud enough to mask any noises they might make, but Nell doesn’t trust themself to stay silent, especially when the Lounge adjacent is completely empty.

But Nell curses as Oz’s hands move to their waistband, tugging their pants down their hips and smoothing rough hands over the bare skin. Nell wishes she could see him, but the darkness was making it so much more arousing- and it takes everything in them not to moan as he presses rough fingers into their thighs.

“Alright, Sweetheart. Let Oz take care of ya’.” He mutters, breath ghosting over them. Nell realizes he’s dropped to his knees behind them, and they arch into his touch as he squeezes their thighs and spreads, revealing them to him in the dark. “Just try to be quiet for me, okay?”

Nell wonders if they’re dreaming as Oz leans forward and pushes his hot tongue into the apex of their thighs- lapping at them in long, slow strokes- and Nell whimpers, hand coming up to cover their mouth as he hums contentedly, the vibrations shooting straight through them. Nell can’t help but let out a gasp as he sucks hard, right there-

He pulls away for a second, and Nell can’t help but push their hips back into him.

“I told you to be fucking quiet, Nellie.” Oz scolds her, and Nell feels herself flush as he spits on it before tasting her again, tongue dipping into her center as he brings a hand up to tease in hard circles. It felt so fucking good it hurt, and Nell nearly chokes as Oz moans into her, flattening his tongue to spread her out. His hands move up their legs, hooking inside and spreading them wider. Nell stifles a sob as Oz buries his face into it from behind while they’re braced against the table, thighs shaking. Their breath catches and they’re almost-

“Oz, I’m gonna come- I-” Nell whines, but goddamn him- Oz pulls away again, and Nell squirms in near-distress at the absence of his warm mouth. They’re so fucking wet they can feel it drip down their thighs, and they’re relieved when Oz stands up and runs a forefinger through the slick, spreading it over them.

“Oh Honey, you’re such a slut.” Oz chastises, just caressing her for a second before giving it a slap. The sound echoes obscenely, and Nell lets out a sob as he pushes two thick fingers into her with ease, alleviating the growing pressure in her core. He can’t get enough of the way she sighs below him as he breaks her in, and Nell realizes that they can feel his gold ring nearly enter them with each movement. Their hand covers their mouth again, in an attempt to muffle the moans they spill as he scissors them open- the sound of their arousal filling the room when he hooks his fingers just right.

That’s when Nell hears something from the hall outside.

Nell makes a move to stand- they know the door doesn’t lock so they’re acting on instinct, but Oz reacts faster, placing his hands on their hips and pushing them face-down onto the pool table, pinning them in place.

Every instinct is telling Nell to move Oz off of her and re-dress herself, but the thrill of it- the idea of someone walking in and seeing her spread open over a fucking pool table by her boss? It was unfathomable. So they stay still for a moment- revel in the throb in their abdomen as Oz puts weight on their lower back- forcing them to arch into him as they gasp at how hard he is just from toying with her.

“You wanna get fucked that badly, huh Sweetheart?” Oz whispers as he leans over her, hands shifting down the curve of her hips before leaving. Nell doesn’t have to guess where he goes- she can hear the sound of his suspenders snapping undone- and she wishes she could grab hold of something besides the smooth surface of the table. Oz elects to stay fully-dressed again, releasing himself from the confines of his dress slacks and dragging through the slick between Nell’s thighs.

“Please-” Nell tries their best to be quiet as Oz teases them, coating himself- hands holding firmly onto their waist as he rolls his hips forward and sinks into them. Nell can’t help but moan at the feeling of him splitting them open like this, and Oz is quick to quiet them, leaning forward to wrap a hand over their mouth. Then he’s pulling them toward him until she’s arching off the table and her back meets his chest, their hips slotted together as he hits something deep inside of her. He’s so thick, Nell realizes- and she whines against the hand over her face as she throbs around him.

Oz pulls her closer to his chest and fuck- he reaches down and pushes his fingers onto her, rubbing in slow circles as he just stays still. Oz holds her there, listening to the muffled sounds she’s making from behind his hand before he inches out, and Nell chokes as he nearly leaves her before pushing right back in to the hilt.

Oz takes a minute to roll his hips into theirs and fuck he can feel them squeeze along every vein as they come, moaning against his hand, and Oz does his best to fuck them through it. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to come with them, his hips stuttering for a moment before he has to fully pull out, still dripping.

“One isn’t good enough for ya’?” Oz teases as Nell shifts in his arms, trying to get him back inside. She says something- lips moving against his palm, and he obliges her, sliding back in before releasing her mouth, his hand trailing down to settle around her neck.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Nell whines as they squeeze him, and Oz loves the way they sound praising him like that. As they start grinding their hips back against him, Oz lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding- rolling into them as he sets a pace with shallow thrusts. Hand still around her throat, he tilts her head, sinking his teeth into the side of her neck, a little too high on the collar.

Nell wants to be mad at that- she wants to pull away and tell him off, but the reality of him marking her- wanting people to know she belongs to someone. It’s fucking feral , and Nell can’t stop the helpless way she leans back into him when he squeezes her jugular- his other hand trailing down to help as he works her into coming around him again.

“Don’t- don’t stop. Please.” Nell can barely manage to say through gasping breaths as they come again, clamping down around him like a vice. Oz releases them, getting them face-down into the table once more- and Nell blushes at just how wet they sound as Oz fucks the tension out of them. He puts weight on their shoulders, and the new angle nearly makes Nell scream- and they hope the edge of the pool table against their hips will leave a nice bruise to remember it by.

Oz curses as they shift backwards, meeting his pace, taking on some of the work. They know he’s close- they can tell by the way his movements falter and his hands squeeze tighter, moving around to pull their thighs apart and open them up to him more.

“Fuck-” Oz rasps “Where-”

“Jesus, just fill me.” Nell chokes out, and Oz does. He fucks into them once, twice- and then he’s shuddering above them, gasping out their name as he comes. White-hot pleasure rips through him as he growls, giving them exactly what they asked for.

Oz pulls out much quicker than they want him to, releasing their hips and moving up, warm hands settling on Nell’s shoulders.

“You alright Doll, was that too much?” Oz asks, and Nell lets out a soft laugh. His concern is endearing, and she wishes he could be this soft around them more often. They yearn to be that close to him- and they can tell Oz wants the same. But what would they even do? He’s still their boss- it wasn’t like he was going to ask them on a date- anything public was very strictly off-the-table.

“I’m fine, Oz- that was-“ Nell assures him, catching their breath as they push off the tabletop. “I needed that.” they add, as they fix their slacks before feeling around for their discarded jacket.

“So,” Oz starts, and Nell turns to where his voice is as he cracks open the door to check the hall. They watch as the light illuminates the scar across his cheek and his gold teeth as he smiles, and Nell desperately wants to kiss him. Their eyes meet as he continues-

“You want me to make you something for dinner?”

#oz cobblepot x oc #oz cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot x oc #oswald cobblepot x reader #the penguin x oc #the penguin x reader #oz cobblepot #oswald cobblepot #for the love of god please ask me to write more #i was listening to deftones while writing this and it made me feel some kinda way #i just want to ruin his life #nan writes #request #2022 penguin #the batman penguin #colin farrell penguin

[badedramay]

sorry to keep coming back here lmaojgkdflhf but i started rewatching (bits and pieces of) mann mayal this past week and like. what a phenomenon. was the plot horrible. yes. did it drive all of us crazy with the melodrama. absolutely. is the fact that it was the note ayesha khan decided to end her career on kind of hysterical. i certainly think so. but something about it was nonetheless so enrapturing. the direction and music production definitely contribute to that but i also think for whatever all of the mess was on top i really was transfixed by mannu's narrative arc. like it was powerful! obv it was easy to get caught up in all of the fine details and chastise mannu for her brashness or stupidity but the point was that she had always had decisions taken for her her entire life. to see a female character so stubborn and possessive about her right to make her own decisions regardless of whatever anyone else with "sense" had to say about them bc her agency was that important to her in a societal context of women's oppression.. it was incredibly liberating! and i hate to bring the fairy tale comparisons back but i think esp in contrast to the latter it was empowering bc post time skip salahuddin was in every aspect The Ideal Guy. he cared about mannu, he bantered with her, he protected her, he was eager to guide her, etc. but that was precisely the problem, bc everything was about his protectiveness over her rather than a respect for her ability to make her own decisions and chart her own life path. to see her refuse to succumb to his will to the very end, the very end! the fact that he had to accept that he could not make her decisions for her and that to be let back into her life again she would have to be absolutely convinced he would respect her agency and desires! just, wow. that final scene in the last episode truly takes my breath away. sameera fazal makes me want to bash my head into a wall with how ridiculous her plots are but i can't lie that i do love the undercurrent themes in a lot of them. it makes me wonder what she'd do with a story if creating melodrama to get views wasn't such a necessity

I've been saying this for YEARS that Mannu was a far stronger character than people gave her credit for. I do blame the direction for literally bahaoing all of Mannu's strengths in the oceans of tears that she was made to shed in every fucking episode. beneath it all, Mannu as a person was just so staunchly protective of her OWN agency that really she can give many characters a masterclass in how to own their destiny. yeah sure, a deeper conversation about whether an agency that is purely masochist an agency worth celebrating can be held here. but there's no denying that Mannu's agency EXISTS. we cannot say the same about so many of the female protagonists. #MannuProtectionSquad!!

I do think Samira Fazal would make a much better short drama writer. Her basic plots are always fun. she just tends to lose the plot when she has to write 30+ episodes of it. which is what happened with Mann Mayal. which is what happens to ANY of her dramas. do you know Shukk? uska bhi yehi haal hua tha. i really enjoyed that drama in its first half and then toh phir toh too much hi hogaya.

Mann Mayal aired at the perfect time which is why the show enjoyed the blockbuster popularity it did. I am thankful it didn't air at the time when armchair "critics" were running their mouths mindlessly criticizing every project on air just to churn out an hour worth of content twice a week. social media trolled and celebrated the drama. Hamza Ali Abbasi was THE darling of the awaam and Maya got to enjoy a peak with Mannu that I am afraid she won't get to enjoy again in any other character. despite all the rubbishness..the show just worked. it didn't bother with giving any social message or sensationalizing for the sake of having a shock value. it was a melodrama, plain and simple, and fully committed itself to the genre. however, years later, the show still contains some moments of sheer brilliance that have not been tainted by time. in fact, I think now is a very good time to go back and watch Mann Mayal with an open mind. with no trolling to distract us or the long wait of a week between episodes to exhaust, and the entirety of the plot easily available on wikipedia to read..Mann Mayal becomes a show that should be watched to appreciate the technical finesse with which it handled some of the show's pivotal moments as well as to finely study the characterization of its very grey protagonists, flaws and virtues all at once.

#mann mayal #for a show that i complained about a lot..i have turned out to be its biggest defender xD

[swagging-back-to]

im going to hit my post limit just by talking about fairy tail so im going to make a master list of all my silly little thoughts

Why the hell isnt natsu automatically listed as an s class? Actually tho real talk why?

omfg happy is so cute i forgot how cute he is

i would love juvia if she wasnt so fucking crazy and also i kind of claimed gray as my "blorbo" back when i was ten and im a territorial wolf that pisses on everything that i own

rewatching it now tho gray looks more like a frog than L does lollll

also she isnt even really her own character which is sad but yeah she's annoying im sorry (not actually)

leave it to shounen to make obnoxious monologs literally every five seconds from both the heroes and the villains (notice how it's only ever the heroes who are five seconds from death, too, how convenient.)

also all of the whole feral drgon magic fanfics used to seem cringe but this one line from gajeel is driving e up the wall rn "who are you? you smell weird" he was able to smell loke/leo's inhuman nature immmmediately. they primal af

i forgot how insanely well written leo is

LOL ThE SCENE WITH NATSU SCREAMING After ERZA IS LIKE "you have a power deep inside you... unleash it for me... *fake dies*" IS SENNNNDING ME

also wowie erza is a total baddie she's been on deaths door like five times in the past two minutes and yet she keeps getting up to fight

speaking of erza and continuing my "there should be actual death and injury" rant,how the ACTUAL FUCK do her swords do no real damage? her swords are basically like bats because all they do is BLUNT FoRCE. they do not slice. they do not cut. they do not impale. THis guy's fucking ghost magic impales more than erza's CIRCLE OF SWORDS

lucy is a badass too actually wtf did i sleep through her entire scene confronting gajeel? she looked death in the face with a smile and a laugh

(gajeel hate group meeting starts now)

gajeel needs to stop being a nasty annoying dog for five seconds i beg

honestly i dont ship grevy anymore because levy doesn't deserve a piece of shit like gajeel. luvy (lucy x levy) 110% oh also fuck natsu x lucy fr i've always hated that pairing (in case you dont know i am a gratsu truther)

what the fuck even is a breath attack for an iron dragon supposed to be PLEASE make sense for five second

leave it to shounen to be like "im going to kill this character!" character b; "noooo! i couldnt stand seeing them lose, i'd lose all respect!"

the scene where natsu is showing off the job he wants to do as a kid but he doesnt know how to read anything besides numbers is making me fucking sooob "i know all the names of food! hamburger, spaghetti, rice bowls, soup, stew! igneel taught me the letters, he really did!" like bro how fucking sad

this concludes my fairy tail masterlist for now

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts S07x19 Of Grave Importance

“What are we eating? Taco Nacho? Taco Macho?” “Is it Tacos Macho? There’s an S in there” “Open 24/7. Hot something” “Who’s Annie?” “Do we know her? I’m confused. I don’t mean to be frustrating. I’m sorry” “Why do you want to make out in an abandoned house?” “Definitely not cops” “You’re all fucked now” “I don’t remember this one” “like I think I do but I don’t” “well shit” “He’s digging for dick OR he’s digging dick” “I mean, there’s an excuse for ya” “I can’t remember for shit what he’s trying to say” “I just wonder if it’s been long enough that we’ve seen these seasons that I don’t know’ 🎶blue hat bobby🎶

“Those sheets are awful” “but you’re a ghost. You don’t have to sleep” “I have a sneaking suspicion that Bobby is going to save the day” “holy shit” “friendly dress” “beeping ringing vibrating buzzing away” “yeah figured as much. That’s no good” “So we just meet her the once and she’s dead. Damn” “takes a lot of juice apparently” “fancy” “well shit” “that was a cool effect” “does this dude fast track on ghost abilities?” “He’s really that incapable of calming his mind for 2 seconds?” laughter

“I wonder how long that took in makeup” “the fuck” “oh I figured it was something else” “Bobby didn’t like hanging with them every single day beforehand. He’s probably going crazy” “That’s not ominous at all” “Hello” “it was bobby” “dude I’d be losing my shit right then. I mean you hunt ghosts and shit but you could be thinking it’s a demon or whatever hunting you” “is that like some cardboard statue.” “Definitely not a cardboard statue” “well that’s kinda hilarious” “could have gotten away” “oh shit” “He can absorb ghosts or something” laughter

“Why does she wanna be…oh sure whatever. I feel like he’d notice” “OH yeah it’s the secret passageway” “need me a good secret passageway” “Mom’s old farmhouse had one between two of the bedrooms” “What happens if he doesn’t end up back in the car?” laughter

“Well I mean isn’t that just going them away anyway.” “I guess I missed how they got trapped there” “well now you’re going to wish you left the flask in Dean’s pocket. Fkn Idjit” “Why weren’t there more episodes with Annie? She’s a decent character” “he’s groping” “I mean he’s not there now because he’s with the boys, but when he gets back, you’re fucked” “that’s rather unfortunate” “that’s what she said” “They invited a character and killed her in the same episode. I’m sure I complained about it before but goddamn” They do that all the time

“I guess it makes it easier to watch as independent episodes later easier, but it makes it more frustrating in the future” “what the fuck” “oh yeah, he can choose when to appear or what” laughter

“You’ve got like 10 seconds” “why did bobby have to do the thing? Couldn’t he just walk through the wall as a ghost?” “That’s confusing” laughter

“So did half of Bobby’s essence get evaporated? I’m so confused” “a while? That’s the worst response ever. Tell me minutes, hours, days, weeks” laughter “apparently” “What’s that phrase mean? It sounds weird, because he’s attached to the thing and he’s telling them to suck it off” Patrick Swayze in ghost

“Wait. Oh yeah they burned the dude already” “This whole time I was waiting for that guy to come out and fuck one of them” “Maybe he just can’t cope with the fact that this is Bobby’s version of heaven” “if bobby can carry his own flask around, he can just go fuck off in the woods somewhere” “Helluva a lotta light for the side of a vehicle on a 2 lane road” “fucking ufos landing in the field in Nebraska as you’re driving through. What the fuck”

#beautifulspouserewatchesspn #supernatural rewatch #supernatural #supernatural s7

[becca-e-barnes]

Hi sweetheart, can we talk about our mean sweater daddy ransom? I rewatched knives out and godddd 'the vicious little bitch' is still not out of my head😵

Like imagine an equally egocentric reader who drives him crazyyyy, just imagine when you both break, and you're fucking and you mock him that he can do better so he ruins you AJAJSKSK

Hate sex is something that just makes me go 😩🥵

Oh god yes please, I have so many hate fuck fantasies 😩

Because imagine how fucking selfish that asshole would be. He’d be using you for his own pleasure, enjoying how good your body makes him feel without a second thought for you. And maybe it is good for you but you know he could do so much better, you just need to piss him off a little.

Like maybe you fake yawn and check your watch over his shoulder. “Been a couple of minutes now Drysdale, you done yet? I have better places to be.” You excepted a little more from him, something a little more frantic and needy.

“This too gentle for you, petal? Should’ve known you’d need it rougher than this. Bet I gotta treat you like a slut for you to cum.” He smirks, flipping you onto your front and positioning you with your ass in the air, pressing his tip to your waiting hole but not pressing in yet.

“Think I just need something bigger, Ran. Making me miss my ex boyfriend, at least he was big enough to make me feel good.” Ransom isn’t small by any means but it takes so little to hurt that man’s pride and that’s all you want to do. Hurt his pride so when he snaps, he’ll fuck you right.

“Oh really? Then tell me honey, why are you pressing that slutty little cunt back onto my cock? You’re so desperate you’re gonna fuck yourself on me? Your mouth is tellin’ me one thing but your pussy is giving you away, sweetheart.” You bite your bottom lip because you know he’s right. You’re so wet and needy, you hardly even realised you were pressing yourself back, fucking yourself on his dick and the new position is breathtaking

“Go fuck yourself Drysdale.” You spit, bottoming out on his length and letting your walls greedily cling to him.

“Is that what you want? Cause if you say the word, I’ll pull out. I don’t mind blowing my load all over you instead. O-oh god. I’ll c-cum all over your ass and leave you here, still drippin’.” The sight and the feeling of you fucking yourself on his cock leaves him stuttering, your slick heat engulfing him, sucking him in and squeezing him beautifully but he can’t let you win.

“Just make this worth my time.” You barely manage to get the sentence out before you’re groaning, feeling Ransom grip the meat of your hips. He’s grunting as he speeds up, setting a brutal pace

“Feel so fuckin’ good. Knew you would. Always the mouthy ones that have the sweetest little cunts.” He smirks, feeling far more euphoric than he wants to let on. You two hate each other after all, he can’t give too much away.

“F-fuck, hits just right. Oh my god, right there.” You pant and it only makes him more feral when he notices your hips are meeting every one of his thrusts, stealing just as much pleasure from this as he is.

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #ransom drysdale smut #not gonna lie #sweetheart makes me soft #happy self care Sunday besties #drink some water and change your sheets #I have to tidy my room

[yunoysl]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 (𝐦)

Yuta gets jealous of you hanging out with Mark because of his not-so-secret crush on you. Yuta knows, and isn’t happy about it.

Word count: 0.8k

Warnings: degradation, spanking, kinda dom!yuta, riding, breeding

—

You’re so bored. You’ve been waiting for an hour now for your boyfriend to come back from dance practice so you can spend time with him. You were so engrossed in your Netflix show—that you’ve already rewatched a million times—you didn’t hear Mark come into the dorm.

“Hey Y/N” Mark’s voice takes you out of your trance.

You love Mark, as a friend of course. Mark is very cute you’re not gonna lie. You’re very aware of the not-so-secret crush he has on you. The other members are also aware of his crush — even sometimes teasing him about it whenever you’re around him.

“I’m about to head out to go pick up dinner, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come along” his pretty starry eyes stare at you waiting for your answer. How could you say no to him?

“Sure. Don’t want anything bad happening to our precious Mark” your words caused Mark to be flustered.

You both leave the dorm, but not before hanging out with the other members for a few minutes.

———

“I’m sorry”

Yuta clicks his tongue, “my baby, my innocent baby. What happened to her?” Yuta is not happy. When you came back from getting dinner you didn’t expect Yuta to be upset with you—ignoring you through the whole dinner, not speaking or even acknowledging you. Mark and the other members also noticed, Mark throwing you his soft starry eyes as a way of saying sorry.

“You’re fucking Mark. You’re wearing a short, short skirt” he rubs the fabric of your skirt on his thumb and index finger.

“He just wanted someone to accompany him to get dinner.” He has you sitting on the bed in front of him. The way you were looking up at him made him hard.

He knows you would never do anything with yuta, and you know that he knows, but you both like it when he’s slightly mean and intimidating.

“Mark is in love with you”

“And I love him as a friend. Calm down I didn’t do anything wrong” you slight raise your voice at him.

There’s a long pregnant silence. Yuta doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a blank stare.

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay” you’re very confused. you were expecting him to have a different reaction.

“You’re fine?”

“Yes” you were getting up to head to the closet to finally change when Yuta stopped you, “where are you going?”

“I’m gonna get changed?” You thought Yuta was done.

“I’m not done with you” you gulp. you thought you were off the hook, but apparently not.

“B-But, you said you were fine?” He sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his thighs.

“I am fine, but I’m not done with you yet” he pats his thighs, “Over my lap. Now.” You scurried to where he was sitting, not wanting to make him more upset.

“I’m going to give you 5 spankings, and you’re going to count each other” he bends down to whisper in your ear, “if you don’t count I’m starting over.”

He lifts up your skirt and bring his hand down to your ass. You jump at the shock it gives you, “one”

“Bad girls get punished” he brings another hand down, slightly harder this time.

“Two”

He continues spanking you until he’s down to the last one.

“Five!” The last one almost has you in tears, and also has your pussy throbbing.

He rubs your ass to calm down the burning. You’re positive that you have handprints on your ass. He stands up and pulls you off his thighs to bring your head to his, giving you a soft kiss.

“I love you. Now you have to make it up to me” you both head to his bed. He takes off both your clothes and you don’t waste time to sink down on his cock.

You whimper when he rolls his hips. His cock is hitting deep inside you, throbbing every now and then.

“My pretty baby is such a whore” he sits up to suck on your neck. He loves to cover you in mark’s.

“I’m sorry, yuta” you mumbled before moaning, feeling yourself about to reach your climax. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, thankfully he has soundproof walls.

His cock was hitting you so deep your legs started trembling. “My poor baby is almost finished?” He smirks into your ear, quickening his pace so you both can finish.

“You feel so good. You’re so pretty. My pretty whore” you love the way he fills you up. Grunts escape from his mouth. You know he’s about to reach his climax. He drives his hips harder into you. He pounds into you harder when you both finally finished at the same time.

His cum coats your walls, you’re both groaning at the feeling. When he pulls out of you, his cum leaks out and drips onto his legs.

—

Hope you enjoyed this! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

#yuta scenarios #yuta au #yuta imagines #nct smut #nct 127 smut #yuta x reader #yuta smut

[bookishofalder]

Catfish & Sunshine

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Mini Series

Summary: Frankie is secretly in love with his best friend. Thanks in part to Benny’s shitty horror movie recommendation and stray ice cream, feelings come out unexpectedly during movie night. 

Warnings: Language, SMUT, little angst, lots of fluff, poor writer understanding of US military benefits/retirement. WC 8,215.

A/N: I dreamed this up after rewatching Triple Frontier about a month ago (for the plot, of course) and let it sit for a while. Became inspired to finish it off this week and share it with you all-so please let me know your thoughts!

For over a decade, Saturday nights were, for Frankie Morales, usually spent with his best friends over drinks at their favourite bar. When deployed, the bar was instead smuggled whiskey that they shared under the stars, an attempt to imagine they were anywhere other than the current hellhole. As Special Ops soldiers, Frankie and his buddies had been through the worst of the worst together, until one by one they retired or were forced to retire, and then they were back to regular appearances at the local bar, for a while the five of them, then four.

Until Frankie met you.

Had someone come up to him during one of those nights years before and told Frankie that one day he’d be bringing you along to the bar to join him and the guys, he’d have laughed in their faces. But for a while, that was exactly what occurred, until you and Frankie grew so close that you usually ended up making different plans, like going mini-golfing, or lounging at his apartment and watching movies. Not that you didn’t love the guys, all whom you’d met except for Santi as he had been off the grid for just over a year when you and Frankie had met.

It was thanks to the elder Miller brother, Will, that he had even met you at all. Working at the VA office, Will had learned of one of the few retirement perks they had for putting their asses on the line for their country-physical therapy. And you came highly recommended, a star PT who had worked magic over his friends' ailments. Knowing Frankie suffered from shoulder and neck pains, Will handed him your card and encouraged him to book an appointment.

He hadn’t called straight away. He’d popped your card onto his fridge and every day he’d pass by it, consider calling, and then talk himself out of it. Until the pain became too much to bear, his latest menial job just a little too physical for him, causing him to consider using again just to dull the ache. But he’d walked by your card moments later and instead of making a terrible decision he had promised himself he’d never make again, he called your office. Made an appointment with your friendly receptionist, who thankfully had his name already because Will had put in a good word for Frankie and asked that they try and get him in straight away, whenever he finally did call.

Two days later Frankie was standing nervously in the treatment room, looking at a wall decorated with your various degrees and certificates. He was anxious not only because he worried he’d get his hopes up that this would help the pain only to be disappointed, but also because he had no idea what to expect. Years of service as a pilot had made Frankie into a man who planned, meticulously, leaving little in the way of surprises. But he’d reasoned that calling the office back and demanding they give him a minute-by-minute account of what the appointment would be like was probably going too far.

And then you had walked in and immediately his worries morphed into concern over the fact that he required a beard trim, that he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and popped his usual cap on, probably appearing a little gruff. And fuck, he almost couldn’t breathe when you gave him the most dazzling, genuine smile like you were greeting an old friend. You were bright, a rare energy radiating off of you as though you absorbed it straight from the fucking sun, and you were beautiful. No wonder Will had winked at Frankie when he’d handed you the business card.

You were observant, introducing yourself and seemingly sensing his overall discomfort. Instead of launching straight to business, you gestured for him to sit and spent a good twenty minutes casually chatting, pulling information you needed from him while putting him at ease entirely. He learned then that Will had already sung Frankie’s praises, given you the heads up that he was a worrier and even told a few stories that showcased his talents as a pilot.

If Frankie didn’t know any better, he’d think his friend was trying to play matchmaker.

All thoughts of Will Miller, and pretty much every other thing on the planet, vanished the moment you laid your expert hands on to Frankie. You zeroed in on the worst source of pain and slowly worked away, and he could only agree with Will that you had magic hands. He could have died happily right then, as you chatted away and brought him the most relief he’d felt in years. You would pause occasionally to check in with his pain levels and make sure he was doing alright, always asking him to look at you to answer and searching his face as he spoke to ensure he was telling the truth.

The care you gave Frankie in just one appointment was enough to start him falling. And he kept going back, multiple appointments a week that not only had him walking taller, feeling lighter on his feet and reducing his migraines to seldom, but also allowing him to get to know you better. You were the kind of sweet-natured person that cried when you saw a sad commercial, laughed freely to the lamest of jokes, and seemed to wake up on the right side of the bed every day. You were sunshine, literal, tangible sunshine, and Frankie thought you might not even realize it.

Though Frankie had convinced himself early on that a woman as beautiful and kind as you could never be interested in a grouch like him, with his crows' feet and a closet full of demons. The longer he knew you little seeds of hope would sprout whenever he made you laugh so hard you had to stop the treatment just to hold your stomach as you giggled. Or when you’d share something with him innocent enough but, upon reflection, he would think it wasn’t something a normal patient-provider relationship would find exchanged.

But there was the age difference, a decade between you both that, if nothing else worked, would successfully extinguish his hope. He had wondered if perhaps you were just a decent people person, that the friendship he felt was there was entirely one-sided.

Until one day, a few months into coming to you for treatment, Frankie sat waiting for you to come in the room only for you to appear looking entirely unlike yourself. He booked his appointments always for the end of the day, a routine that promised he would get plenty of uninterrupted time with you and the conversation could flow without a time constraint. He had been so surprised that you weren’t grinning as you stepped into the room that he stood abruptly, filling with concern.

When he asked, softly, if you were alright, you didn’t brush him off like he might have expected. You instead looked up at Frankie, your lower lip trembling as your eyes filled with tears, and sobbed unexpectedly. That sound had torn a hole right into his chest and he had pulled you straight into his arms and hugged you close before asking you to tell him what he could do to help.

You ended up explaining that you had come in that morning to the news that a regular patient of yours, an elderly man you’d known the entire time you’d been working for the VA office, had passed away in his sleep. And you’d apologized to Frankie while sniffling and wiping at the tears, telling him you’d held it in all day but couldn’t do that when your friend asked you, and he had been baffled to realize you were referring to him. As your friend.

He had cut off your apology to hug you close again, smoothing your hair gently as he whispered calming words and sentiments to you in Spanish. And though you didn’t speak the language, you had since told Frankie it had done exactly what he’d hoped and made you feel all the better. 

After his treatment that day, Frankie asked if he could take you for a drink to toast your friend's life. He waited for you to close up the office, and then you’d followed him in your car to drive over to his usual bar. And you both drank to the veteran who passed, then ended up ordering dinner and remaining at the bar until late, talking even more freely outside of the office. If Frankie didn’t already have it bad for you, that night sure sealed it for him.

After that, you and Frankie began texting regularly, sometimes even calling one another to share a funny story or talk about something in the news. He had joined you for your former clients funeral, his hand rubbing comforting circles into your back before he took you out for lunch, then you’d ended up at his place to watch a cheesy movie, ordering pizza when you both realized there was a sequel that, if it was as bad as the first, you absolutely needed to watch.

And just like that, Frankie saw his life altered completely when you became his best friend.  

Currently, Frankie was seated comfortably on his couch, where he frowned at the TV playing a horror movie that you had insisted was supposed to be good, because Benny had recommended it. Considering the younger Miller brother could barely sit still half the time, that was supposedly good enough for you. 

You were tucked into Frankie’s side, eyes fixed on the screen until a jump scare had you jerk, then twist your face to press into his chest, because you hated the gory bits.

“Fuck! How does this not scare you even a little, Frankie?” You whined, unknowingly causing Frankie to swell with pride when he heard the note of admiration in your voice. He had started to suspect that the reason movie nights were becoming exclusively scary movies was that you were determined to find one that actually frightened him.

So far, you’d had no luck. But Frankie didn’t mind, because though you were already a touchy person in general, you were especially clingy when you queued up the next horror flick as if you trusted him to keep you safe.

Frankie didn’t reply, his chest rumbling with silent laughter that made you teasingly poke his side. He jumped, because you knew exactly where to aim, then cleared his throat. The scene ended, and he began to extract himself from your grip. “My sweet tooth is calling, cariño. I’m going to get some ice cream.”

You let him go, your head popping up, a big grin on your face, “Can I have some too, please?” And he nodded, smiling at you before walking across the open concept apartment and into his kitchen.

He stretched his back before opening the freezer where he had some bars next to an off-limits pint of Ben and Jerry’s. You had put it there months ago, telling Frankie it was for days when you got together and one of you needed to cry over a bad date. You called it ‘emergency’ ice cream. Frankie considered it to be ‘fuck you’ ice cream, because every time he opened his damn freezer he saw that pint and ended up thinking about how neither of you had been on a date with anyone since becoming friends over a year before, then falling into the same circular argument with himself-that the friendship was too important for him to feel the way he did, that he was jumping to conclusions and maybe you had gone on a few good dates that you just didn’t tell him about, and he was out of his mind if he thought you would ever feel the same way.

“Here you go, Sunshine,” He plopped back down next to you and passed you your bar, watching as you beamed at him widely, the inevitable result of his use of the nickname he’d dubbed you with a long time ago.

He desperately hoped you never realized the amount of affection truly behind that nickname.

Because how could he even begin to explain that you were literally sunshine in his dark life?

“Thank you,” You pulled the wrapper off, glancing at the movie and frowning. “Uhg. Benny promised the one was good! I’m starting to think he only recommends movies if they have at least one pair of tits.” You took the first bite of your ice cream bar while Frankie nearly choked on his own.

Amused as he was whenever you joked about your shared friends, Frankie also loved it when you swore. You were a goofy, happy little thing most of the time and curse words just seemed so out of character for you, pulling laughter from Frankie any time you caught him by surprise. You spent your days around gruff veterans and never seemed to lose any light, no matter how many real horror stories you heard. So whenever you managed to sound so uncharacteristically blunt, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Benny has always been a tits man,” Frankie agreed, and you giggled. He tried to refocus on the movie then, but it hadn’t captured his interest in the least. After a moment, you spoke again and he had to work on not choking.

“What are you, Francisco?”

Your tone was playful, light; Frankie’s head jerked in surprise to gaze down at you and you wiggled your brows, going for laughs. You seemed completely unaware of the roaring in his ears, the visceral reaction your words brought forth within him. You and Frankie had shared intimate tidbits like that before with one another, often during nights at the bar with the Miller brothers. After a few drinks and usually, because his friends knew exactly how he felt about you and tried to steer the conversations into dangerous waters and watch Frankie try to save himself.

Only, Frankie’s friendship with you during the last few months had become...deeper. After the operation Santiago had brought Will, Benny, Tom and him in on, your relationship had evolved. Because that nightmare had reminded Frankie just how dark shit could get in the blink of an eye, and he’d had to do things he thought he was done with when he retired from service. Worse, because they were just civilians using Santi’s connections and intel to rob a drug lord.

And you had no idea what he’d gone through, how hard he’d fought just to get home to you because he couldn’t-wouldn’t-tell you. Yet you still patched him up, physically and emotionally, when he’d come home three weeks later than he’d promised. You held him as he cried and never became angry with him, never questioned him for answers as to why he’d come home with one less friend and a whole lot of mysterious trauma.

After that, Frankie realized he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.

So a simple, flirtatious little question? Yeah, it really managed to fuck Frankie up.

His friends had sensed the change as well, noticed how you held Frankie up when he felt like he couldn’t stand, how you comforted them all when they got home and cried along with them over Tom, over Santi not coming home even though you’d only met him once, briefly. You held strong for him at Tom’s funeral, which prompted the Miller brothers to tell Frankie in no uncertain terms that he simply could not let you slip through his fingers. If that fucking mission had taught them anything, it was that life was too short and you might as well live it to the fullest.

But the thing was, Frankie depended on you. Your friendship was the one real, good, pure thing in his life. And you gave it so willingly and unquestionably even after what he put you through that there was no fucking way he was risking it by telling you how he felt.

Christ, you even had a spot in his bathroom for your own toiletries, a favourite pillow on his bed for the nights you stayed, a fucking hook for your coat that he installed just a little lower than the other because you were so much smaller than Frankie.

And still, he wouldn’t look at what that might mean because he was afraid, and as much as you seemed to think nothing scared him, the truth was that a gory horror movie, or losing his friend, or even fucking live combat could never come close to the fear he felt when he pictured life without you.

You were Frankie’s Sunshine, and he never wanted to be alone in the dark again.

Aware he was still gazing down at you, Frankie found himself entirely at a loss for words. You didn’t seem to mind, simply waiting for him to respond while taking small bites of your treat. His cock twitched at the combination of your words, the innocent way you gazed at him, because Frankie hadn’t touched himself in quite some time and it didn’t take much to drive him up the wall.

His life with you had become remarkably domestic, routine. You often stayed multiple nights in a row at his place, preferring his company over being alone, and the shorter distance to your office. His spacious condo had one large four-piece bathroom, which meant there had been a few times where one of you was in the shower and the other came in, desperate to use the toilet before their bladder could burst. The shower had a thickly frosted glass enclosure, which provided plenty of visual privacy from both sides, the only indication that someone was in the shower was a very faint tint. This was never an issue until it was.

Exactly sixty-two days prior (not that Frankie was necessarily keeping count of passing time since his last orgasm), you had burst into the bathroom one afternoon unexpectedly. Returning early from your jog because you needed to pee, while Frankie stood in the shower. He listened to you tell him about a cute dog you’d seen outside his building. The thing was, Frankie had expected you to be gone longer, and you were in the middle of a three-day visit that had left him needy and horny because he hadn’t had time alone and yet you walked around in his fucking clothes, slept next to him in his bed, and he needed release.

He was grateful the tinted glass prevented you from having any idea what he was doing on the other side. And he had been close already when you came in, one hand fisting over his cock while the other pressed into the tile wall, and guilt sprang up in the back of his mind because he had been thinking of you as he touched himself. And you were just feet away, unaware and fuck if that didn’t lead him to the edge.

But it was when you had sat down to pee and he heard you give a little moan of relief that Frankie lost it, giving in to the most powerful-yet silent-orgasm he had had in fucking years. Rope after rope of cum, his legs violently shaking, and he’d wondered if he would pass out it felt so good. Then you’d flushed and continued speaking, washing your hands before telling him you were going to put on a pot of coffee. And the guilt Frankie felt was so immense that he vowed right there he wasn’t going to touch himself again. He cared for and respected you too much to reduce you to his graphic thoughts without your consent.

Sixty-two days later and you were testing his limits unknowingly.

“I, uh, I’m not sure,” He replied, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You frowned a little, kitten licking the ice cream absentmindedly. Frankie almost groaned, wondering if you were trying to kill him. “I guess, it depends on the person.” He was never, ever going to admit he was a you man, that your ass, your perfect tits, your pretty little mouth were everything he could dream and more.

He tried to shrug casually, as if indifferent.

“I guess it’s a funny question,” You said after a moment, laughing a little, “I mean, no one asks a straight woman if she’s an ass or cock girl!”  

Frankie took a too-large bite of his treat, the cold painful and giving him instant brain freeze but it was just the distraction he needed because seeing your plump lips wrap around the word ‘cock’ might just kill him. He coughed attempting to laugh at your joke despite the brain freeze, and you leaned closer in concern.

“Sorry, are you-ah, shit!” A piece of your ice cream bar, which you’d moved to hold higher as you were checking on Frankie, fell off and landed on your chest, instantly staining the pale pink t-shirt. You hopped up with a noise of discontent, catching the fallen glob and hurrying into the kitchen to toss it in the sink. “Damn it!”

Frankie reached out and paused the movie, standing up and intending to follow you. He took two steps, adjusting his cap as he moved, and then looked up to where you stood at the sink, running your shirt under the faucet. Freezing, he took it the sight of you standing in his kitchen, your shirt removed to run under the water, leaving you wearing yoga pants and a simple white bra. For a moment, he just shut down and stared at you dumbfounded, before internal alarms started sounding and Frankie’s eyes were sweeping over your curves, his eyes zeroing in on the lack of support your bra had, your breasts perky and full and fuck, he had to look away.

He looked up at his ceiling at cleared his throat “You uh, want me to grab you a shirt?” His voice came out much deeper than he was expecting. He hoped you didn’t notice, though with only being able to see your profile even if he did dare to look at you, he’d never be able to tell.

“Can I borrow your big sweater, please?” You asked him, and Frankie nodded as he hurried away, down the hall to grab the sweater he knew you meant from his room. He would have laughed at your suggestion it was his sweater when he barely got to wear it himself anymore, but he was trying to remember how to breathe.

Once out of sight in his bedroom, Frankie took a few steadying breaths before grabbing the sweater off the end of his bed. He was going to subject himself to a cold shower after he handed this to you because you were staying the night again and he could not climb into a bed with you this worked up.

One of the reasons that you and Frankie just worked as friends were your opposite ways of navigating life. Where Frankie was a detailed, meticulous planner, you flitted from idea to idea spontaneously until something landed right, and you seemed to enjoy pulling him along with you as you followed those random whims. And he let you pull him because he trusted you so completely. Even if he would still make a new plan in the back of his mind, it still felt like he was taking chances he never would have without you leading the way.

Planning was Frankie’s way of keeping control. Of keeping himself, his squadmates, his loved ones, safe and secure. After Columbia, where every bit of the plan had gone completely to shit, he’d needed to let you lead more often just so he could feel grounded because he didn’t trust himself any longer. And you had been happy to lead, to test his limits by pushing aside any planning he attempted and pull him from his comfort zone. You had taught him how to grapple with his instincts and his desires, giving him real-world methods to cope, including breathing as he was now.

So focused as he was on his breathing, Frankie hadn’t noticed you had joined him in his room, standing just inside the doorway. If he had heard you, he wouldn’t have spun around abruptly and take two long strides before realizing how close you were, nearly knocking you over as he did. He dropped the sweater when he reached out with both hands to grab your upper arms and steady you, and then he met your gaze.

Frankie couldn’t say whether it was the heat of his hands on you so unexpectedly, or the way you each shivered at the electricity that seemed to pulse from him to you. Maybe it was everything combined, years of friendship, longing and pining and then almost dying in the middle of the jungle only to come home and have you climb into his lap and sob in relief that he was home, and a million other moments in between.

But when Frankie met your eyes there in the doorway of his bedroom, he knew his expression was giving him away completely.

You were looking at him with wide eyes, your mouth slightly open in surprise, whatever words you were going to say long since lost. And then he saw it, was looking right at you when your expression shifted, no longer the innocent, playful woman but instead, one who was suffering just as much as he was, longing and love and this hunger on your face he’d never seen before.

Without hesitating, without thinking or planning his next move, Frankie tugged you against him and leaned down to slot his lips over yours, taken aback when he saw you close your eyes and stretch your neck up to meet him. When your soft lips connected to his, Frankie trembled and groaned, loving the feel of your body pressed against him, the way you smelled like something tropical, how even with your perfect curves you were so small compared to him. Kissing you was everything he’d dreamed and more.

He wanted to deepen the kiss, taste you, but even as he thought it his mind jumped ten steps ahead and imagined you on his bed and he had to stop himself from getting carried away. With great effort he pulled back, first breaking the kiss and then taking several steps away, panting heavily.

“Frankie?” You were out of breath, confused, and deliciously flushed. He could see your nipples tightened against the thin fabric of your bra, goosebumps along your skin. Just the knowledge that he’d had that kind of effect on you was enough to make him want to cum in his pants right there.

“Cariño, I can’t, I’m sorry,” It was physically painful now, his hard length straining against his jeans, but he was more concerned about you, and how afraid he was to lose you. “I-I’ve wanted to do that but you gotta know, I love you. I’m in love with you.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, instead choosing to look at his feet and rubbing his hands over his face.

You approached him again, just as quietly, taking him by surprise when you spoke from just inches away. “Frankie, look at me,” It was an order, a tone you rarely used but that always worked on grounding him, and he realized you understood he was struggling right now not to break down, terrified he’d fucked up the best thing in his life in a moment of weakness. He reluctantly met your gaze, swallowing thickly as he did.

“I need you to hear me right now, okay? Tell me.”

“I’m listening,” He confirmed, heart about ready to beat out of his chest, “I can hear you.”

“Good,” And you closed the gap between your body and his, pressing your hands into his shoulders. Frankie caught his breath. “I want you to do that again, and I don’t want you to stop. Please, kiss me again, Frankie, because I love you too and I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life than I want you-“

Frankie cut you off, a growl ripping from his chest before he gathered you roughly into his arms and kissed you again, this time quickly swiping his tongue across your lips for permission to enter, and you gladly parted them for him, moaning when his tongue licked into your hot mouth. He slid one hand to the back of your head, his fingers weaving into your hair carefully before he pressed your face to his, needy to taste you more, to get drunk on you. Fuck, you were perfect.

When you whimpered against him, the sound almost lost in his mouth, Frankie moved, walking you back until you hit the wall and crowding you there. He ran his free hand across the bare skin of your side, heat coursing through his veins when you shuddered at his touch, keening for him. He hadn’t realized he was rolling his hips against you, his erection pressed into your stomach until one of your small hands somehow slipped between your bodies and ghosted over the front of his jeans curiously.

“Fuck,” He broke the kiss, this time simply to lower his head and kiss along your jaw, down your neck, “Sunshine, I fucking love you, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, sweet girl.” He licked the column of your throat as he moved to the other side of your face before biting gently. The sound that tore from you was so filthy he groaned again, dropping both hands to grasp your forearms.

“Frankie, fuck, don’t stop,” You were tugging at his shirt, and despite your request, he had to move back slightly to pull it over his head, his bare chest revealed to you and even though you’d seen him shirtless before, the intimacy of this time, of finally being with you after so long, made him self conscious. If you saw anything you didn’t like, you didn’t show it. Instead, you bit your lip as your hands tentatively roamed across his chest, trailing over his stomach lightly enough that he shivered. When you spoke next, you yet again took Frankie completely by surprise, your brows furrowing as your expression became more than just hungry, “Mine.”

You whispered it, but to Frankie, it was like you’d just announced it to the entire world. The possessive edge wasn’t lost on him, no, it shot straight to his core and snapped the final cords of his restraint.

“I should...I need a minute, Sunshine,” Frankie pressed his hands into the wall on either side of you, “I haven’t done anything in a long time, haven’t even cum, I don’t think I can be as sweet to you as I want to be.”

Your lust-blown eyes met his, “Why haven’t you cum?” He could hear trouble in your voice now, the not so careful way you spoke pulling dangerous images in his mind as he stared down at you, his jaw tense. When Frankie made no reply, you pressed your pointer finger to the middle of his chest, your eyes never leaving his as you slowly, lightly, moved it downward, trailing his dark hair. “Is it because you think of me? Are you that amazing that you won’t even let yourself cum because you think it’s wrong to think about me like that?”

A strangled noise was all he could respond with, his hands pressing desperately into the wall. You knew him too well, understood exactly what he’d meant without having to ask. And then you kept talking, and honestly, Frankie was floored at how dirty you suddenly were for him.

“I have to admit, you’re better than me, Frankie,” That finger trailed so slowly, closing in on his belly button now, “I’m not good like you, I think about you all the time. Especially when I touch myself, usually after I’ve spent a ton of time with you and I can’t fucking wait for a second longer. Wanna know what I picture?”

His voice was husky, a warning if ever there was one, “What did you picture, sweet girl?”

You moaned, your finger now closing in on the waist of his jeans, “You, bending me over the couch, that one is a favourite. Or waking you up with a blowjob, swallowing everything you’ve got because I know you taste delicious,” You unbuttoned his jeans now, sliding the zipper down with care, “But I think the winner, the one that always makes me scream your name, is thinking about riding you, Frankie. Climbing in your lap and just-“

Fuck, fuck he couldn’t hold back. He’d told you he couldn’t and yet you wouldn’t shut up and all thoughts of making love to you gently were out the fucking window, Frankie instead growled deeply and grabbed you by the arms, all but throwing you on the bed. You were smirking up at him, your eyes dark with lust and shining with triumph.

“Fuck, sweet girl, you wanna scream my name?” He removed his pants and briefs in one motion, his cock spring up, hard and leaking precum and you licked your lips, giving a little whimper at the sight of him. Frankie grasped himself, pumping his hand a few times as he stood over you, “Like what you see?”

“Jesus, Frankie-you need a new nickname,” You said, eyes glued to his cock, “Catfish makes no sense when you’re walking around with that fucking bat-wait!” He froze in the middle of removing his ball cap, looking at you with concern to see you bite your lip a little shyly, “Keep it on. The hat.”

Warmth spread through him at your request and Frankie replaced the hat on his head, then dropped to his knees next to the bed, his hands running up your thighs as you writhed. At your waist, he grasped the tops of your yoga pants and tugged them down, enjoying the way your body arched when you lifted your hips to help him. The only item of clothing either of you wore now was you in your bra, and fuck were you a sight.

Frankie gazed up at you from the floor in awe, his eyes roving over you hungrily as you watched him, propped up on your elbows. He started kissing up your thighs then, pushing your legs apart and spreading you, his hands kneading your flesh. “Sweet girl, you have such a pretty pussy, better than I imagined.” He moaned, biting into the soft flesh of your inner leg and drawing a whimper from you, “I can fucking smell you already, so wet and ready for me, fuck.”

“Oh god Frankie, please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore, I need you!”

“Told you,” Frankie climbed over top of you, his legs on either side of your body as he reached down and dragged you further onto the bed, his show of strength making you whimper, “It’s been a while. And you walk around here wearing my fucking clothes all the time. You don’t know what you do to me, Sunshine.” He grunted as he repositioned himself between your legs, his hands grasping the backs of them to haul your body against his, his cock pressed painfully against your thigh, “Gonna fuck you, sweet girl.” And with one careful, quick motion he thrust forward and each of you cried out at the pleasure of Frankie filling you.

“Frankie! Oh!” Your legs wrapped around him instantly, urging him as deep as possible as he split you open so deliciously. Once he was fully seated within you, Frankie dropped forward, propping himself on one arm, and cupped your face with his free hand. He looked into your eyes as he started a fast, hard pace, thrusting deep and reeling over how wet you were for him, how perfectly your velvet folds wrapped around him.

“Fuck, cariño, you’re fucking tight,” He grunted, kissing you sloppily as you threw your arms around him, hugging him close, “So tight for me, so perfect making those pretty noises, fuck.” Frankie groaned when you clenched around him as he spoke, “You like it when I tell you how perfect you are?”

“Ye-yeah Frankie, I love it. Oh, fuck!”

You were trembling now, squeezing him each time he whispered in your ear. Frankie kept up a string of praises and filthy words, taking note of the ones that had you gripping him extra hard.

He’d always had a casual enjoyment of dirty talk, nothing over the top, easy enough to shut off if it wasn’t enjoyed by the other person. But something about talking like this to you had his balls tightening that much faster, his thrusts becoming brutal.

Still murmuring in your ear, Frankie lowered his hand to your clit, experimentally rubbing, circling and pinching it to see what you liked. He was going to cum soon, and he’d be damned if you didn’t cum too. Though, as Frankie settled on circling you, both feeling and hearing how this was definitely how you liked it, his worries quickly dissipated when your hips were suddenly bucking up to meet his and you were screaming his name.

“That’s it, let go for me sweet girl,” Frankie’s thrusts were becoming increasingly sloppy as he neared the edge, “Are you-fuck, where should I?” He couldn’t even form a sentence now, he was so close and you were squeezing around him so perfectly as you closed in on your orgasm.

You understood though, your eyes meeting his as you pulled yourself together enough to reply, “Frankie, cum inside me please, please fill me up, pleasepleaseplease-“

“Fuck! H-here you go, perfect little thing!” He roared, dropping his weight over your and growling as he spilled inside you, as you bucked and writhed beneath him and screamed out, toppling over the edge and into oblivion with him. He heard himself cursing in Spanish as he experienced the most intense orgasm of his entire life, his hips slowing to continue to draw it out, still more cum filling you and you were a wreck under him, shivering and moaning.

“Yes, Frankie, yes.” You whimpered, your hands sliding into his hair-knocking his cap off-and tugging at his curls.

It took several minutes to recover, though Frankie had enough awareness to shift his weight so that you could breathe properly. Still hard inside you, he began to kiss you all over, peppering your face and neck before biting a few more marks into your neck, his tongue laving out to soothe. He enjoyed the way you whimpered when overstimulated, twitching when he pinched your nipple over your bra, squeaking his name when he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could one last time before pulling out.

Frankie collapsed on the bed next to you, then quickly tugged you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. His fear began to bubble back up now that the haze of passion was clearing, and he was starting to question every single moment that had occurred since you'd asked him if he was a tits man or an ass man.

What had he done? Was he going to lose you after this? Lose his entire reason for living for one amazing orgasm?

But it was like you could reach his mind, as only a few minutes had passed and then, with a little groan, you pulled yourself up so that you were on your elbow, looking down at Frankie. You took one look at his face and frowned, “That was quicker than I thought.”

Frankie stared at you, “What was?”

“I guessed it would take more than two minutes for you to start regretting this.”

Sighing, he pulled himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. You followed, but crossed your legs and shuffled next to him. “I meant what I said, I love you,” Frankie explained, rubbing a hand over his face, “I love you so much, so fucking much it hurts. But the idea of messing this up is terrifying me, Sunshine. I don’t think I could lose you, I think it would kill me.”

“Frankie,” You crawled over him, straddling his hips and settling into his lap. You cupped his face firmly, looking into his eyes. Your expression was open, warm and vulnerable and a little incredulous, “You aren’t going to lose me, not ever. I want this-I want you, and everything you come with, okay?”

Though his heart was soaring, Frankie still worried, shaking his head, “I come with a lot of dark baggage, sweet girl. Not to mention the age difference.”

“Jesus, Frankie, do you really think I don’t know what I’m saying when I tell you I’m all in?” You asked him, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “I love you. Can I tell you when I knew?”

Frankie peered at you, his hands coming to hold your waist as he nodded.

“The boys trip.” You stated, using the term each of you agreed upon when referencing his three-week disappearance to Columbia. “When you first left, I knew something was off but I trust you, so I didn’t question it. But then after a few days, with no word from you, I started to really worry,” You paused, momentarily lost in thought, eyes dark now with the painful memory of his absence and the little information you’d come to learn about it since. “Did I ever tell you I booked a ticket to Columbia?”

This caught Frankie off guard because you most certainly had not told him that, “What, are you serious?”

“Yep. Booked it for the day after you ended up calling me. I don’t know what I was planning to do, but I knew you were there and, even if you were dead, I needed to be as well.” You stroked your thumbs over his cheeks, “After you called, and I knew you were alive and coming home, I realized that the way you said it meant you almost didn’t make it home, and I knew you weren’t saying something. I hung up and sat in my room for a minute and it occurred to me that you could have died and I would have never seen you again. That was when I knew it wasn’t just a crush.”

Heavy emotion filled his chest, rendering him unable to immediately respond. Frankie gathered you close and stood, clutching you against him and carrying you into the bathroom. He set you on the toilet before turning to his massive soaker tub and switching it on, fully intending on spending the rest of the night in there with you. When he turned around, you were carefully tidying yourself up. With a grunt, he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water before kneeling in front of you and taking over.

“Why didn’t you say anything? After I came home, I mean.” His tone was light, as he didn’t mean to come across as accusing you of anything-it’s not like he had said anything to you. Good-natured as you were, you simply smiled at him, a little sadly.

“Too afraid, right at first,” You admitted, your eyes fluttering shut as he took care of you with the warm washcloth, “But when you came home you were a fucking wreck, Frankie. You lost your friend, Santi didn’t come back with you either, and Will and Benny had the same expression on their faces whenever I saw them. You saw some shit, did some shit, I don’t know and I’ll be real here, I don’t need you to ever feel like you should tell me what exactly happened. But after the first day you were back, I could see how much it changed you and I thought it would be selfish to tell you how I felt and add more emotional bullshit onto your plate.”

Frankie continued to kneel in front of you after tossing the washcloth into his laundry hamper. For a moment, the only sound in the room that of the tub filling. He stared into your eyes, seeing only how truthful you were being, how incredibly kind. He had never realized how completely he could love someone until he met you.

“I thought about you the entire time I was gone.” He admitted before carefully standing and checking the temperature of the water. He added a bath salt mixture that you’d bought a while ago, claiming it was a gift when really you were the one to use them, locking yourself away for hours to soak because you didn’t have a tub at your place. He shut the water off and held his arms out for you, which you eagerly stepped into and allowed him to guide you both into the water.

Once settled, your back against his chest, you replied. “Your face when you came home, I’ll never forget your expression.” His legs were on either side of you, and you began to lazily trace along his right thigh as both of you fell into your painful memories of his ill-fated trip.

Frankie sighed sadly, “I’m sorry I ever left, Sunshine. I never should have left you,” He tightened his grip around your waist under the water, one hand spread flat across your stomach, “It was just...fuck, everything went bad straight from the start. We had a moment of luck and then it was like nothing could go right. And I don’t know, I’m fucking gutted that Tom is gone, but it’s worse that Santiago won’t come home. He’s like my brother, and he blames himself for everything.”

Frankie knew you had no idea what he meant. You knew he and the guys were former special ops that served together, but when Santi had asked him to go to Columbia Frankie had only told you the basics-the country, who he would be with, that he might not have a lot of chances to call, and that it would be about a week. Santi had picked him up and you had been there to see him off that morning, and his friend had casually referenced a ‘boys trip’ while speaking with you as Frankie loaded his shit in the back.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. You worked with the VA, met a lot of former service members who ended up contracting out their skills after retiring or leaving due to injuries or lifestyle changes. And you knew Frankie, understood him like no one ever had before, which is why as he gave you further details you didn’t flinch or freeze up, you simply listened. When Frankie had gone quiet for a while, you eventually turned to gaze up at him over your shoulder, your cheek on his chest.

“From what I could tell,” You began slowly, your words cautious, “Whatever you did, what happened, you all put it aside to get Tom’s body home to his family. And considering the type of work Santi was doing out there for three years before he came here to ask you guys to join him, I figure you all must have almost died a few times each, probably took out some terrible men along the way.”

Frankie had to bite back his sob, turning his face away from you to stare, ashamed and remorseful at the wall. You reacted quickly, pulling yourself up and turning over, your naked body pressing over his as you grabbed Frankie’s head and gently turned him to look at you. “Baby,” You cooed, your eyes shining with concern, “Don’t do that, don’t hide from me.”

That was all it took. Frankie let the sob out and the relief of it was instantaneous, so much so that he let out another, then another, all while you held him and murmured soft, sweet words and pressing chaste kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, along his jaw. It didn’t last long, he’d cried so many times over everything that had gone down, but this was the first time you had revealed you sort of had an idea of what they had been up to, and you were still supporting him and loving him and it was all very overwhelming.

A short time later, Frankie wiped his eyes and shot you a grateful look, hoping you could sense how much he appreciated you. You settled into the water again, knees pulled to your chest as you faced him and trailed your hands comfortingly up and down his chest. “Sunshine,” He whispered, catching one hand and holding it against his heart, “I love you, thank you for being so fucking incredible.”

He tugged you closer, joining you in laughing when a little water sloshed up over the edge of the tub as you landed against him. You snuggled close and kissed him, your fingers carding into his curls and holding him steady. When Frankie took you to bed that night, there were no pillows between your bodies, not a shred of clothing separating you. He held you close, falling asleep faster than he had in years.

And for the first time in Frankie’s life, he felt whole and complete, like nothing could ever bring him into darkness again, not when he had you, literal sunshine, lighting his existence.

PART TWO

Permanent Taglist:

@mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711

#reader insert #fanfic #angst #fluff #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #fem reader #oneshot #best friend #friends to lovers #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #smut #love

[clonewarslover55]

Hi Abigail, hope life's treating you well!

I am currently rewatching season 5 of TCW and oh my, isn't Gregor fine AF? 🥵 I was going through your masterlist and couldn't find anything written about him, so I was wondering if you could maybe write some Gregor x reader smut, with breeding kinks maybe? Once your request reopen of course, I know they're closed for now

Being bred by Gregor

Gregor X Fem!Reader //SMUT//

Life is treating me great now that I’m back from my break! I also loved this request my darling anon!! I love me some sexy Commando boys!!

Notes: I have never written for Gregor apparently??? I had to change that!

This is probably before he goes missing….Or is in a universe where he never goes missing! Or maybe this is while he's missing! Your choice!

Warnings: Fluff and smut! Breeding, breeding kink, unprotetced sex !Be safe!

You sat on the foot of your bed, watching your lover dry off after a shower. Gregor looked at you, his towel around his waist. “What?” He asked, walking over to where you sat.

You shrugged, a grin on your face. “Nothin’.....Just admiring my sexy Commando.” Gregor chuckled at that, gently grabbing your hands so he could pull you to your feet. “Is that so?” He hummed, pressing a light kiss to your lips.

You grinned against his lips, your arms looping around his muscular neck. “Yes.” Gregor smiled, pulling you in for a deep kiss. Gregors tongue invaded your mouth and began to wrestle with yours, distracting your mind instantly.

Gregor ran his hands down your hips to your ass, playfully squeezing it before moving down to the back of your thighs. He bent down some, your lips still connected, and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms tightening around his neck.

“I gotcha.” He muttered, his lips moving to attack your neck. You hummed a reply, too distracted to use words. Gregor laid you down on the middle of the bed, crawling on top of you.

Gregor made quick work of your clothes, his lips kissing every bit of skin he exposed. He removed your panties with his teeth, groaning at the sight of your wetness. He licked your slit with the flat of his tongue, watching you writhe above him.

You ran your nails along his short cropped hair as he devoured you, Gregor shivering at the touch. You nearly came by just his lips and tongue, Gregor pulling away seconds before you could.

You whined when his magical lips left your cunt, the commando licking his lips clean. He smirked at your expression, crawling back up your body. “I’ve missed you.” He spoke, his voice raspy with lust.

He gently tweaked one of your nipples before you could reply. All you could do was gasp and moan, Gregor smirking as his lips found yours once again.

You gasped into his mouth when the head of his cock brushed against your entrance. You tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you. Gregors lips went to your neck to mark you up, his cock slowly sliding into you.

Sometimes he was very cocky and a massive tease, taking his sweet time fucking you. Your commando sure knew how to drive you mad. Once he was fully inside of you he pressed a light kiss to your lips, his dark eyes locked with yours.

“I’m going to breed you nice and good, love.” He punctuated the sentence with a nip to your throat, a smirk on his lips. “You’re going to be so full when I’m done with you. By the end of my leave you’re gonna be good and pregnant.” Your walls tightened around him at the heated words.

“Oh Gregor.” You moaned, throwing your head back so he could attack your throat better. “Please. Please fill me up!” You gasped out the words, Gregor’s lips marking up your neck.

Your nails dug into his muscular back as he began to slowly thrust into you. His cock filled you perfectly, scraping those sweet spots inside of you every time. Gregor drove you absolutely insane when he fucked you.

He picked up the pace when your walls quivered around him, your commando smirking against your neck. “Such a greedy thing.” He panted against your ear, his thrusts not faltering as he spoke.

“So eager for my seed, eh?” He nipped your earlobe, gently tugging it. You moaned loudly, bucking your hips against his as he fucked you. “Oh yes Gregor! Yes! Please fill me up! Please!”

He moaned at your words, picking up his pace. He brought you to the edge quickly, his lips locking with yours as you tightened around him like a vise. He growled against your throat, his thrusts growing sloppier as his own edge approached.

You came hard, screaming out his name along with some pleas. Gregor couldn’t help but cum with you when you screamed his name like that. You both rode out your incredible orgasms, Gregor slowly rocking his hips against yours.

He pumped you full of his cum when he came, the feeling nearly driving you mad. Gregor didn’t pull out when it was all over. Instead, your commando gently rested his weight on top of you, nuzzling your neck with his nose.

You sighed contently at the feeling of him, perfectly relaxed and still inside of you. You stroked his scratched up back, massaging the irritated skin gently.

Gregor pressed a gentle kiss to your throat, “You prepared to not walk for a week?” You chuckled at his words, nodding. “Oh I am. Don’t worry. A small price to pay for you filling me up.” Gregor smirked against your skin.

It was going to be a long few days. You two couldn’t wait.

Taglist: @leias-left-hair-bun @iamassbutkingofhell @catsnkooks @azem-thefourteenth @colorfulloverbatturkey @blueberrybubblesandboba @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @hounding-around @julyzaa @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @strangebroadwaykinks @jedi-nila-rhyn @fyrepen33 @mistflyer1102 @kamino-mermaid @cherry-cokes-world @cherry-cokes-posts @darmanfi @silverinkandstardust @chewychewyque @majorshiraharu @ravenpuff01 @808tsuika @commanderrivercc-3628 @captainrexstan @girlvader @ct7567329 @just-some-girl-92 @valkyrieofthehighfae @my-awakened-ghost @escapedthesarlacc @katethecrazy @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @lightning-wolffe @dominhoe-squad @qui-gon-jinn-and-tonic @meabravo

If you’d like to be added to my taglist the link is on my masterlist! 

#clone commando gregor #gregor #captain gregor #gregor x reader #gregor x you #captain gregor x reader

[anonil88]

Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

#Malcolm & Marie #malcolm and marie #zendaya coleman #zendaya #john david washington #liveblog #mine

[jinkicake]

Such A Dirty Mouth

Terushima hates when you ignore him. 

Terushima Yuuji x Reader

Hi Anon~ Here I am presenting another oral smut fic..... can you blame me? As long as Terushima has that tongue piercing and I have hands, I will write delicious smuts for him!! I think like all of my smuts for him but one consist of him eating you out,,,, but whatevaaa I want it. 

SMUT // This is literally 1k of Terushima eating you out. // NSFW

WC- 1,694

~~~

“Ah, come on babe I’m sorry!” Terushima sulks as he once again apologizes to you, he doesn’t handle being ignored well. You don’t even glance away from your phone which causes your boyfriend to frown even harder. “I even know what I did wrong, I ditched you to rewatch dragon ball which I have seen so many times already.” He tells you guilty and places one of his palms on your bare thigh. 

You know that if you look at him you’ll end up smiling or, even worse, forgiving him so you continue to scroll aimlessly. Terushima pouts as he continues to get no reaction from you and he places his head down on your lap. 

“I won’t watch dragon ball anymore,” Silence. “we can even go to the cafe you were looking at?” He suggests and clicks his tongue when you refuse to make a sound. 

A lightbulb practically flickers over your boyfriend’s head as he eyes the shorts barely covering your legs, he is always down to hear you scream for him. Blood practically rushes to his head at his idea and his cock hardens beneath his shorts at how hot you look when ignoring him. 

“I’ll show you how sorry I am.” He chuckles and pries your thighs apart, despite how hard you try to push them back together you’re no match for his strength. Though, your legs practically fall open on their own when you notice the way Terushima’s biceps flex under his rolled-up sleeves. “Alright,” He smirks to himself when he notices the way your body reacts to him, already squirming to give him better access to your core. 

Terushima yanks at the waistband of your shorts, practically ripping them down your legs. You wince at the snap and Terushima gently kisses the side of your knee.

“Sorry, babe, I just get too excited.” He sheepishly smiles and hikes up your legs over his shoulder, one and then the other. Just having him this close to you has you growing damp and the hitch in his breath that leaves his lips when he sees your panties doesn’t help your growing arousal. “You’re so damn cute.”

Terushima leans down to kiss your clit over your panties before using one of his fingers to probe your slit. You want to slap his head when he laughs at how damp the material already is.

Slowly, Terushima takes your panties off your legs. He leaves a trail of kisses down the side of your leg and back up the other one, all the way up to your exposed core. He smirks and glances up at you, his eyes shine competitively and you’re almost scared of what he is going to do.

His large hands cup your ass and almost pull you off the couch, the lower half of your body is hanging off the furniture as Terushima uses the new position to dive in. 

His tongue immediately peaks out past his lips and licks up your slit, laying his tongue flat against your core before flicking it with his tongue piercing. 

“You taste so fucking good,” Terushima groans, purposely being louder than usual because he knows how hot and bothered it gets you. You try to bite the inside of your cheek to hide any of the noises that want to fly out while straining your eyes on your phone. Terushima moans against your core, slurping up all he can before making a show to swallow it all. 

Just as he expected, that got your attention.

You couldn’t help but glance down at him, dropping your phone elsewhere to soon be forgotten. At the sight of his messy dyed hair and teasing eyes flirting with your own, your face morphs into an expression of pain. Your back arches off the couch and you try to push your hips further against his mouth. 

Terushima continues his ministrations, dutifully lapping at your core like a man starved. His piercing is so much more noticeable like this, you can feel the taunting piece of jewelry recking your insides, it makes your chest tighten. 

Your hands reach down and grip his hair to hold him against your core, giving you the opportunity to grind against his face. You keep remembering how Terushima ditched the date you planned to watch dragon ball, the fucking tv show he has seen a million times since his childhood, and that thought fuels you with frustration. Hopefully, his scalp can handle your punishing movements. 

After practically rearranging your insides with his tongue, painting your walls in his salvia, Terushima pulls away. He brings two of his long, skillful fingers into his mouth and releases them with a loud ‘pop’. His tongue peeks out past his lips and he starts to flick your clit, making sure his piercing hits the little bud the hardest. Terushima’s eyes shine teasingly as he watches your expression, he sucks your clit into his mouth the moment he flicks his wrist and thrusts his two fingers into you.

Your mouth falls open in a soft moan, one that Terushima knows can be louder. He practically rips the gut-wrenching noise out of you as he curls his fingers, dragging them along your walls while still sucking on your clit. 

Finally, after barely forty minutes of not getting a sound from you, you bless him with your sweet moans that he adores taking as his own. This only fuels Terushima to put in more work, to hear you make even more noises for him. 

“That’s right, let me hear you, baby.” He coos and you glare down at him, gripping his hair tightly. Any other person would have winced but Terushima sinfully moans, you can see the flush gracing his face and it makes the knot in your stomach grow even tighter. Terushima circles your clit with his piercing, dragging it around before pressing the piece of metal directly against your swollen nub, he continues his teasing movements before sucking your clit back into his mouth and soothing it over with his lips.

His piercing is going to drive you insane, it will ultimately be your demise. You hate that Terushima has it, you hate seeing it every time he parts his lips, you hate how you practically fall to your knees at the sight of it, you mostly hate the fact that he knows how to use it. Terushima knows specifically what you like, he knows exactly how to thrust his fingers and get you to mewl. He knows how to work your clit in the best way, ripping orgasms from within you in minutes. It would be one thing if his oral skills were simply top-notch, but it is another thing because he does it exactly to your liking. 

You’re not sure anyone will ever treat you as well as Terushima does. 

Terushima feels you tightening around his fingers, convulsing at a quick pace, and he sucks harder on your clit. He moves the pearl with his tongue, stimulating it to watch the way you bloom. His favorite sight is when you arch your back and press your chest up into the air, he can see your nipples straining underneath your shirt and fuck, do his pants feel so tight right now. 

“Cum for me, beautiful, now.” His command is quiet but demanding like you have no choice. You really don’t have a choice, not when he is moving his fingers and mouth like this. You cum against his face with his name spilled off your tongue, grinding against him to prolong your high.

“Yuuji, Yuuji,” You chant and Terushima smirks against you, pressing you against the couch so that you don’t fall off while his hand grips your hip to keep you from moving. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it.” He grins and continues to lap at your clit, not once removing his fingers. Only when you whine and try to push his head away does he get the hint, does he take the hint though? No. Not yet.

He removes his fingers from you, making sure that it doesn’t hurt and places a single kiss on your clit before bringing his digits up to his mouth. You watch as he sucks on them, just as he had been sucking on your clit moments before, his piercing catches the light and shines teasingly and your body begins to feel hot all over. 

You subtly eye the tent in his gym shorts and you bite the inside of your cheek. He doesn’t fucking deserve it, but you need him. 

And that’s how you end up getting fucked into the couch, your face is pressed into the cushions as Terushima mounts you like a fucking animal. His tongue runs all along your shoulders and the side of your neck, purposely flicking your ear so you can wither against him. His slender cock works so well inside of you, so skillfully that it makes you light-headed. Terushima always gets so deep in you while moving so easily, letting the tip of his length probe at your walls, despite the way you clench around him so tightly. 

“Don’t you love it when I fuck you like this?” Terushima coos into your ear, you want to slap the proud grin off his face, he knows he has rendered you speechless. “I love it so damn much. This pussy was made for me.” He continues and lets out a groan, one that has a pitch higher than normal, he sounds so close. “You’re always going to be my number one, baby, and I will fuck it into you so that you remember.” 

Terushima continues to snap his hips into your ass, slamming his thighs against the back of your own, his balls smack your aching clit. He always fucks you so intensely, so full of passion that you wonder how you even survive it. 

Terushima’s mouth is filthy, that’s something you have come to learn even before the two of you started dating. You wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

“I’m going to cum, just for you, all for you. But, I need my baby girl to cum for me first.”

~

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee​

#terushima yuuji x reader #terushima x reader #terushima smut #haikyuu terushima #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut

[drabbles-mc]

I Like Me Better

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from Anon: Hi! If you’re doing requests can I get a short fic based on the song I like me better by Lauv with Nestor🥺

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: language, lots of softness and pining

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: (I know I’ve posted this story like 5 times today alone. So sorry to everyone who has been getting bombarded with it while I figure out my posting/tagging issues. Love y’all and I owe you xo) This story definitely took on a life of its own once I sat down and started writing it. I love me some Soft Nestor and the whole “almost relationship” type of deal. Hope you enjoy!

General Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @paintballkid711​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @queenbeered​ @sillygoose6969​ @sesamepancakes​ @yourwonkywriter​ @chibsytelford​ @gemini0410​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​  @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @garbinge​ @themoonandthewicked​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @encounterthepast​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​

You were laughing as you watched snowflakes get stuck in Nestor’s facial hair and braids as he talked to you on the phone. Ever since you moved, the two of you had one weekly scheduled phone call, and one video chat. No matter what either of you were doing, you always made time for those two things. Even if for the rest of the week you didn’t really get to talk to each other, you always had those two things.

When Nestor said he was going to have to talk to you on the go before he called, you didn’t expect it to be quite so literal. You figured maybe he’d be driving, but wherever he was, he was walking, and it was snowing. He didn’t look thrilled about either of those things.

“I’m not made for the fucking snow,” he was trying to sound annoyed but you could see the laughter building up inside him.

“Good thing you didn’t move with me to New York then,” you laughed as you watched him brush snowflakes off of his eyelashes, “You’d never last out here.”

“Why would you voluntarily put up with this every year?”

“It’s pretty when you’re not being a baby about it,” you laughed, “Where did Miguel send you anyway?”

“Into the cold, that’s where,” he kept a serious expression for a moment before laughing.

“Next time you wanna experience the cold, come do it with me! My door is always open.”

“You’re the only person worth braving this shit for, Y/N,” he chuckled.

“Well,” you smiled at him from the warmth and comfort of your couch, “me and Miguel, apparently.” There was a knock at your door and you sighed, “Hold on a sec, I gotta grab that,” you got up and walked over to the door.

When you unlocked and pulled the door open, the phone dropped from your hands as you took in the sight of Nestor standing on your front step. You squealed, throwing your arms around him in a hug that swept you off the ground. He laughed as he held you tight against him.

He gently set you back down, making sure that your feet didn’t land in the snow on your steps, or on top of your discarded phone, “I told you, you’re the only one worth braving this shit for.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here!” without thinking better of it, you reached and cupped his face in your hands, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he was actually standing right there in front of you. He let out a slight shiver and it snapped you back to the situation at hand. You laughed as you waved him inside, “Shit, come inside. Get out of the cold.”

You grabbed your phone off the ground before you shut and locked the door behind the both of you, mind reeling from the fact that Nestor was at your house. You’d been back home to visit a couple times since you moved away, but he’d never made the trek to New York. You couldn’t blame him—you knew what his life with Galindo was like. You were surprised that he was able to be that far away from the family without it causing some kind of issue.

“What brings you out my way?” you took his coat from him and hung it up, chuckling as the snow fell off of it onto the floor.

“You,” he replied, looking up at you with a smile as he took his shoes off, “I wanted to see you, and not just through a phone screen.”

His words made your entire body feel warm. You motioned for him to follow you into the kitchen, nodding towards the counter for him to sit while you got the both of you a cup of coffee. He needed it more to warm up than anything else. He looked around your house with an approving smile. You’d given him the video tour after you had moved all of your stuff in, but it looked so much better in person. It felt so homey. Your walls were covered with photographs and artwork that you’d brought from home. Nestor smiled to himself when he saw that he’d made it up on the wall in a few pictures, along with the rest of your family and friends back in California.

You set the hug down in front of him, and he chuckled when he saw I ❤ NY printed on the side of it. He cupped his hands around it, letting the warmth seep into his fingers from the ceramic, “Fitting.”

You sipped from your own mug with a smile, “Gotta manifest it, Nes.”

The two of you existed in silence for a minute while he thawed out. You watched him as he looked around your small home. It wasn’t much, especially compared to the homes of all the people in his circles back in California, but it was yours and you loved it. You had never been someone who needed much. You just needed to feel comfortable and safe, and this house did more than just that for you.

You noticed him staring at the photos on the walls and the fridge, and you smiled. A little bit of weight settled over your heart as you watched him study them, knowing that he was looking at the ones of the two of you. It was all bittersweet to look back on. The two of you hadn’t ever dated, but you danced around the outskirts of it for a long time. There were times when the lines felt a little fuzzy, but nothing ever really happened. You were best friends, and you knew that he’d do anything for you, and you for him. But the timing was just never quite right, life was just never quite calm enough to try and make it work.

When you had told him that you had accepted a job offer on the other side of the country, he was trying so hard to be happy for you, but it wasn’t easy. You were a port in the storm for him, and he had no idea what he was going to do without you around. But he was supportive. He helped you pack, scrolled through apartment and housing listings with you, and found the best deal on a plane ticket. He never let you see how much it had hurt him—those were feelings that he processed in private. He’d thought about coming out to visit you every day since you left, but he worried that if he did, he wouldn’t come back home.

Before either of you could spiral too far into the past, you spoke up with a smile, “So, how long are you in town for?” he didn’t have any bags, so you assumed that he couldn’t be in town for long.

“I’m not sure,” he rested a hand on the back of his neck, “Told Mikey I needed to take some time. And this was the first place I thought to come to.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise—work had always been a priority for Nestor. Miguel was at the forefront of his decisions, always. “Really?” you raised your eyebrows, “You…you can take a leave of absence with…what you do?” you couldn’t quite wrap your head around it.

He shrugged, “Apparently,” he chuckled, “He said alright. So, here I am.”

You could feel that it wasn’t what he wanted to talk about, so you let the topic drop, “Well, you know you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you want to. Although your lack of luggage is a little concerning.”

He laughed, “Got lost in the shuffle. Airline said they’ll mail it here.”

You shook your head, unable to contain your laughter, “Damn, that sucks. Welcome to New York.”

You were on the opposite side of the counter from him, leaning forward onto it, propped up by your elbows. The two of you started to catch up about things that slipped from your minds when you called each other. He told you about some of the chaos that he wasn’t allowed to say over an unsecure phoneline. You listened intently, fighting the urge to reach out and entwine your fingers with his. Everything felt so right with him there with you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled as he took another sip of his coffee, “I don’t mean to do all the talking. I’ve just…I’ve missed having you to talk to.”

You nodded, “I know the feeling,” you drummed your fingers on the surface of the counter, “Well, now that you’re here, normally I’d say we should go do touristy things. But something tells me you’ve had your required dose of snow for the day?”

He laughed, “What’ve you got in mind?”

You shook your head, “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. I’m sure you’ve had a long enough day. We can camp out at least until your luggage gets here. Or I can take you shopping, whichever you prefer.”

He smiled at you, “I think I’m alright with staying in.”

“That’s what I figured,” you chuckled, “Well, I was not expecting company. I’m assuming you’ll be alright with ordering in?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I know this really great Chinese place. Their wonton soup is…perfection.”

The two of you made your way to your living room and sprawled onto the couch. You leaned up against Nestor’s side as you got your phone out to place the order. You picked a few things that you wanted to eat before handing it to him so he could pick stuff as well. While he was looking through the menu, you turned on the television and pulled the blanket off the back of your couch so it covered the both of you.

Nestor handed your phone back to you so you could place the order. He’d hardly noticed how you tucked the both of you in. He smiled as he rested his arm against your side, hand brushing lightly against your stomach.

“Is this…”

“I decided last week that I was going to rewatch all of Law & Order SVU from the very beginning,” you laughed.

He shook his head with a laugh, “Do you have a moral objection to happy shows or…?”

“It’s a good show!” you snuggled into him a little more.

“What has New York done to you?”

You smiled and shook your head, “Given me time to do shit like this.”

“You like it here though?” his eyes were watching the television, but one hand was gently massaging circles into the side of your neck.

“Yea, I do. It’s a nice change of pace—I think it was the right move for me,” you glanced up at him and smiled, unbelievably happy about the fact that he was really laying on your couch in New York with you. Never in a million years did you think that would happen.

Once the food got there the two of you switched up your positions a little bit. The TV was still on but neither of you were paying attention to it. You were each sitting cross-legged facing each other on the couch. You were laughing as you watched him fumble with his chopsticks. You had forks, obviously, but it was a matter of pride whenever you two ate together because he knew that you were extremely good at using them and he didn’t want to be left out.

“Almost two years since we got Chinese together and you didn’t use any of that time to teach yourself how to use chopsticks?”

He chuckled as he struggled with his noodles, “Didn’t make it to the top of my priority list, I apologize.”

“I’ll teach you before you leave. Way better than taking back a cheesy souvenir,” you smiled at him as you picked up a piece of chicken.

As the night wore on, your coffee table became covered in takeout food boxes, and a couple empty bottles of wine that the two of you had managed to drink your way through. You were sprawled across his lap, wine glass lightly hanging from your fingertips as you rambled on about what you had been up to since you moved. Nestor couldn’t take his eyes off of you, soaking up the fact that he was able to be so close to you.

“I’ve missed you,” you veered off your current story completely as you felt the warmth from his hand soak into your leg.

He looked at you, laughing quietly at the sudden admission, “I’ve missed you too.”

“Were you ever mad at me for leaving?”

He shook his head, no hesitation in his answer at all, “Of course not,” he studied your face, the way your skin glowed whenever you drank, the way your eyes got a little glassy when you had more than just one glass of wine, “Doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, though.”

You hummed in quiet contentment as he reassuringly rubbed his hand up and down your leg, “I think about you all the time.”

His hand stilled for a moment and you were afraid that maybe you were saying too much. Maybe the reason that things worked so well was because everything was in limbo. Before you could worry too much he gave your leg a light squeeze, “I think about you too.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, resituating yourself so that your head was resting against his chest. It was hard to focus on much of anything when all you could think about was the way your body was pressed up against his. The steadiness of his breathing felt like the only thing that was still grounding you. Your entire body felt warm from the wine, but deep down you knew it was more than just that.

“If you’re tired,” he spoke up after a few minutes of silence, “you can go to bed. Don’t exhaust yourself on my account,” there was a smile on his face.

You stretched, fighting back a yawn, “Come with me,” you sat upright and looked over at him, “I won’t lie to you, my guest room is empty because I have been putting off buying furniture for it,” you chuckled, “And my bed is way more comfortable than the couch, believe me.”

“Yea,” he nodded, his voice soft as he bit back a laugh, “okay.”

He followed you up the stairs and into your room, looking around the house as he did. It was hard for him to wrap his head around what your life was like now that you were so far away from everything that you had grown up with, everyone you had grown up with. It seemed like you had created such a cozy little life for yourself, and it couldn’t help but to think that you might never have had that if you hadn’t taken the plunge to move across the country.

“Don’t mind the clothes,” you apologized as you flicked on the light to your bedroom, “I promise they’re clean—I just hate folding laundry.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “It’s fine.”

You changed into a baggy long-sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts, immediately crawling underneath your blankets. You nestled back against your pillow and looked over at Nestor, who was unbuttoning his shirt, eyes cast down at the floor.

You were lying on your side, scrolling on your phone when you felt the mattress dip as Nestor climbed into bed beside you. He pulled the blanket up over himself and rolled onto his side so he could look over at you. You looked up from your phone, a smile starting to take over your features as you took in how close he was to you. You set your phone off to the side and rested your cheek against the palm of your hand.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” you said with a laugh.

“Give it a couple days,” he joked, “Soon you’ll be begging for me to go back home.”

You snuggled closer to him, resting your face against his chest, “I doubt it.”

You woke up the next morning to the feeling of Nestor’s arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you snug against his chest. Taking a slow, deep bre ath you took in the fact that this was really happening. He shifted slightly, arms squeezing you for a moment before he settled back into his sleep. The selfish part of you never wanted him to go home because you would love to wake up like this every morning. The warmth trapped underneath the blanket made you forget about the fact that there was a considerable amount of snow covering the ground outside.

You let your eyes close again as you focused on the steady beat of his heart. You slowly slid your legs and tangled them up with his. A few moments later you felt his fingers sliding lightly up and down your back. You glanced up at him and smiled when you saw that his eyes were still closed, but there was a peaceful smile on his face. You don’t ever remember seeing him so calm, so relaxed.

“Good morning,” he mumbled as he pressed his hand flat against your back, pushing you against him.

You chuckled as you rested your hands against his chest, “Good morning. You sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” he finally opened his eyes, “like a fucking rock,” he laughed.

You smiled up at him, “Good.”

The two of you laid there, soaking up the quiet peacefulness of the morning. You hadn’t woken up wrapped up in someone’s arms in a very long time, and there was something about the clinginess of Nestor’s grasp that told you he was in the same boat. You smiled to yourself as you felt his fingers lazily massaging between your shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come visit sooner,” he said.

You pulled back away from him so you could get a better look at his face, “You don’t have to be sorry—I know your life doesn’t make it easy. It’s hard to find the time.”

“I should’ve made the time.”

“Nes, don’t—”

He cut you off as he shook his head, “I’m not trying to make excuses. I know that I should’ve come out to see you. I just, I knew that it was going to be hard to convince myself to go back home once I did. I like me so much better when I’m with you,” he gently cupped your face in his hand.

You rested your hand over his, “Well, I like you all the time,” you smiled, “And no matter what, I’ll always be here whenever you need a break to recharge and get away from everything for a little while. But listen,” you waited for him to look at you, “don’t spend all of your time here thinking about the fact that you think you should’ve made it out here sooner. None of that matters. You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

He rested his forehead against yours, “See? That’s what I mean—how am I supposed to go back home after that?” you could see the hint of a smile on his face.

You laughed, “Just remember how much you hate the snow. Short vacations out this way will be just right for you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Yea, maybe.”

You gave his hand a light squeeze, “C’mon, let’s go make breakfast and see if your luggage will come in today or if I get to take you shopping.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, “Can’t wait for that.”

You flung the blanket off the both of you and hopped out of bed. Walking around to Nestor’s side, you held out your hands and pulled him up, laughing as he exaggeratedly stumbled into you and wrapped you in a hug. Your laughter was muffled against his chest but he reveled in the way it all felt.

While you were measuring out grounds into the coffee maker, you saw Nestor out of the corner of your eye looking through your fridge, trying to see what he could salvage to make breakfast with. You smiled to yourself as you set the pot to brew. You leaned back against the counter and watched him pulling things out from the drawers of your refrigerator.

“Playing chef today?” you asked with a smile.

“Better me than you,” he laughed.

You feigned offence, “Excuse you, I am an amazing cook.”

He smiled as he set everything out on the counter, “You are, but I’m better.”

“But I’m better,” you mocked with a laugh, “Cocky.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“How long did you say you were staying again?” you laughed.

“At least until I learn how to use chopsticks,” he chuckled as he looked through your cabinets for a frying pan, “So it might be a while.”

You couldn’t make yourself take your eyes off him, “Good.”

He heard the softness in your tone and looked over at you from his food prep on the counter. He smiled, tilting his head slightly as if to ask if there was something that you wanted to say. You shook your head with a small smile before walking over and wrapping your arms around his middle, the side of your face resting against his back. You didn’t know how long he was going to be staying, but you knew that regardless you were going to be making the most of it.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[todorokibois]

Brat - Katsuki Bakugo X Reader {M}

Disclaimer: Katsuki is aged up to about 21, as are all characters in my fics.

Genre: Smut (Dom/Sub themes, slight humiliation, Mistress, Bakugo is a brat)

Pairing: Katsuki X Reader

Words: 3,966

A/n: Came up with this idea while I was rewatching some bnha the other day, and I thought to myself, I think it’s time for someone to put Bakugo in his place. Thus, this idea was born. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!

Summary: The one in which you’ve had enough of Bakugo’s shit and decide to teach him some respect.

He’s been pushing your buttons all day. Every time you would suggest a plan to capture the criminals you’ve been chasing, he would counter your ideas, or go off and do his own thing. The worst was when he stormed into the building by himself, yelling at the villains to ‘stop being such little bitches’ and fight him head on. To say you’re frustrated would be an understatement.

Due to his attitude in the past, many other agencies refuse to work with him, leaving only a select few you can count on. You’re just lucky you have friends in those agencies, otherwise hero work might be a little bit more difficult to come by, especially when he goes off on his own like this, ignoring your direct orders.

It takes you all twice as long to capture the goons this time due to him nearly collapsing the building they were hiding in, completely ignoring the fact that you told him to wait for backup. Eventually, you managed to catch up to him and apprehend the villains you’ve been after, giving them to the authorities shortly after capture. 

However, not only are you beyond frustrated, but you’re also embarrassed by how Katsuki has been acting lately. Given that you’re one of the top heroes working at your agency, your team is supposed to listen to your orders and follow them, especially when it comes to tasks like this. Katsuki, on the other hand, directly refuses to even acknowledge how you run things, which only makes you believe he has no respect for the agency’s code of conduct, nor you, especially when the two of you are at work. 

You’re sick and tired of it, especially since the two of you are supposed to be partners, in more ways than one. You can’t count the amount of times you’ve overheard people commenting on your relationship because of this. Enough is enough, and you’ve decided you’re going to do something about this. It’s like he doesn’t have any respect for your authority.

This won’t be for long, though. Not if you have anything to say about it. Someone is going to have to put him in his place, and you know just the person to do it. You.

When the both of you get back to the agency building, your superior gave you both a massive scolding. Katsuki received a larger one than you, but you were still told to get him under control, lest the two of you want to be out of a job. The last thing the agency wants is their approval rating to go down in the eyes of the public, and Katsuki is already dangerously treading the edge.

“It’s your job to keep him under control, (Y/n),” your boss scolds you once the two of you are alone in their office.

“Yes, boss,” you reply, a sigh nearly escaping your lips for the umpteenth time that evening.

“Now go home and get some rest, tomorrow’s another day!” They say, sending you a tight smile as you nod politely and leave their office.

You say nothing as you pass Katsuki, expression remaining blank as your eyes blaze in anger. If anyone saw you, they’d think you look quite normal, but one look into your eyes and they’d know how pissed off you really are.

He huffs and rolls his eyes as you walk passed him, arms crossed as he follows you out to the car, “what? I got the job done, didn’t I?”

The only response he gets out of you is a glance at him out of the corner of your already narrowed eyes, only causing him to click his tongue in annoyance, “what?”

Sliding into the drivers side of the car, you remain silent. Turning the keys, you register him sliding in the passenger’s seat, teeth gritting against one another as he clenches his jaw. He tilts his head slightly upwards, his nose in the air as he looks over at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Are you really going to ignore me now, dumbass?” He scoffs as you remain silent. “Fine, I didn’t want to talk anyways.”

Usually, you’d be cussing him out by now, voices raised as you argue your whole drive back to your shared house about what has transpired this evening. To say your silence is slightly unnerving to him would not be an exaggeration. He has a feeling that you’ll probably lay into him as soon as you get home, and that anticipation alone is eating away at him. Believe it or not, he can’t stand you actually being upset at him, and he can tell you’re furious.

Your grip is tight on the steering wheel the whole ride home. Every so often, you can feel Katsuki’s gaze drift over to look at you, though he still defiantly holds his head high. Each time you let out a tense sigh, he tenses slightly, waiting for you to blow up at him like he knows you can. 

The longer this goes on, the more nervous he gets. Did he finally go overboard? Will you forgive him this time like you have all the other times he’s disobeyed your orders? It’s not like anyone got hurt this time, so he doesn’t understand why you’re so upset. In fact, you should be used to this by now.

Each second that goes by with this tense silence lingering in the air feels like an eternity to him, and by the time you’re pulling into the driveway he nearly breathes a sigh of relief. As you’re unlocking the front door, he figures he’ll attempt to talk to you again, wanting at least some sense of normalcy to come back to the two of you.

Stepping inside, he lets out an irritated huff, “look, if you’re saving the big lecture for when we get inside, you should just-“

His voice dies in his throat as you push him against the wall, the front door clicking shut beside you.

“You never know when to keep that big mouth of yours shut, huh, Katsuki?” You tut, shaking your head in disappointment. “You know, if you actually put it to good use, instead of spewing your typical bullshit…”

“The fuck are you talking about, (Y/n)?” He counters, brows furrowed.

“I’m talking about how this is the last time you’re going to disrespect me like that, you fucking brat,” you spit, pushing him harder into the wall with your arm across his chest.

“Oh, please,” he rolls his eyes, “if I hadn’t gone ahead-“

“Enough, Katsuki,” you cut him off, eyes hard as your gaze meets his. “This is the last time you pull something like this. I’ve put up with it for this long because I care about you, and it usually all works out in the end, but not anymore. It’s time you learned some respect.”

He scoffs, “and I suppose you’re going to teach me?”

“Damn right I am,” comes your immediate reply, and you can tell he isn’t expecting it. “It’s time someone knocked you down a few pegs, brat, and I’ll be happy to do it.”

A humourless puff of air escapes him, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, baby,” you grin, “I’ve already started.”

At your words, his brow furrows further in confusion until he feels you arm shift slightly, allowing for your hand to rest at the base of his throat. His eyes go wide as he feels your fingers gently brushing over his skin, almost teasingly against his throat, your body now pushing into his fully.

“Like I said, you’ve always had such a loud mouth, Katsuki,” you stare into his eyes, and you know he’s watching you, waiting to see what your next move will be. “You’ve always needed someone to discipline you properly, to tell you ‘no’ and actually mean it. To bring you to your knees and make you beg-”

Before you can say another word, he cuts you off, “like hell I’d ever beg for anything.”

Your eyes flash, grip squeezing slightly at the base of his throat in warning as he gasps, “don’t interrupt me again.” 

You notice his eyebrow quirk slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing against your hand as he swallows subtly, yet he nods once in understanding. 

“As I was saying,” you sigh, “you will beg by the time I’m done with you tonight. After I’m done teaching you some respect. Though, I don’t think I’ll need to try very hard.”

To emphasize your point, you bring your free hand to his crotch, cupping his semi-hard cock in your hands and squeezing. He inhales sharply, gritting his teeth as he feels you gently caressing his growing erection, both loving and hating how much this is actually turning him on at the moment. You smirk.

“After all, I’ve barely done anything to you, and you’re already this turned on,” your voice is low as you lean in to whisper into his ear. A shiver runs down his spine as he feels your breath ghost over his neck, “pathetic.”

A small moan escapes his lips, immediately causing his eyes to widen, face turning red as you chuckle at his reaction. He attempts to get words out, but all he can do is splutter as you release your hold on him with a quirked brow, nails trailing down his chest teasingly until all he’s left with is the faintest ghost of your touch over his skin.

“Seems to me like you’re already begging for me to have my way with you,” you say as you take a few steps backwards and away from him. 

He catches himself as he takes a small step towards you, gritting his teeth in frustration at what you’re doing to him. You watch as his fists clench at his sides, a fire igniting behind his irises. He’s putting up a front, and you can tell, one that’s close to cracking.

“Like hell I would,” he’s still, spine rigid as he watches you with defiance still shining in his eyes, along with something else. Something you’ve never seen before.

“Oh?” You quirk your brow once more, now taking small steps towards him as if you’re a cat stalking its prey, “you mean you don’t want to feel my hands all over your body, leaving marks for everyone to see? You don’t want to know what it’s like to be rewarded for being my good boy? You’d rather me not take care of that little situation you’ve got going on down there?” You trail your eyes over his body, gaze focusing on the tent now visible in his pants as he shifts slightly at the feeling of having your eyes on him like this. “Damn, Katsuki, I knew you were masochistic, but you shouldn’t let your pride get in the way all of the time.” You’re close enough to him now to trail a teasing finger across his chest. “Especially not at a time like this.”

He scowls, but you can see it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. He’s intrigued by your whole demeanour tonight, for he’s never really seen you act this way before. He always knew you could be demanding, a true leader that he honestly wouldn’t mind following anywhere you told him to, but he’s never had this directed towards him. Well, he’s never felt you mean it like this before.

Maybe he wanted this to happen. Maybe he wanted to see how far he could push you before you snapped and put him in his place. Maybe he’s been desperate for you to use him like he’s used you. The countless times throughout your relationship where he’s made you weak for him, made you beg him for more has made him want the same from you. Maybe, just maybe, there’s something more to it. Maybe he just wants to see how far you’re willing to go. Maybe, he just wants you to make him beg.

“I don’t let my pride get in the way,” he grumbles, as you take a step back to distance yourself from him once more. His gaze darts to the side as he crosses his arms in front of his chest, just waiting for you to do something to him.

“Sure you don’t,” you chuckle, now standing right in front of him. 

The two of you stare at one another for a few moments, the tension of anticipation lingering in the air between you. He can’t help but hold his breath as he watches your one hand come back up to cup his face, patting his cheek affectionately in the next moment.

“Once you’ve swallowed that pride of yours, brat, I’ll be waiting in the bedroom,” with a final smile that simply screams nothing but trouble for him, you’re turning around and heading up the stairs, leaving him standing there, stunned, in the front entranceway.

Letting out a frustrated growl, he shakes his head. No way in hell is he leaving things like this. There’s a part of him that wants to march right into your shared room and show you who you belong to. To put you in your place for teasing him like that. However, there’s another part of him that cannot help the way his heart races in excitement as he thinks of what you might have in store for him once he makes it upstairs.

The fire behind his eyes is still burning once he throws open the door, only for his steps to falter as he sees you casually changing your shirt. His gaze trails down your torso, swallowing slightly as he watches you turn around, you not wearing anything at all on your upper half.

“Took you long enough, brat,” you tut, shaking your head as you walk over to him, now frozen in the doorway. He’s seen you plenty of times without a shirt on, hell, even without a bra for that matter, but there’s something about your aura this time that makes whatever retort he’s about to say die in his throat. This time, you look serious, and he just knows he’s in for a long night. “What, no smart-ass remark?”

Your lips tugs upwards into a grin, arms crossing across your chest, only serving to emphasize the curve of your breasts. His mouth practically salivates at the thought of finally getting to touch you after what you did to him downstairs. He’s never gotten this worked up like this in such a short period of time before, and he wants to see what you’ll do to him next.

“Are you finally going to listen to me for once?” You ask, tilting your head slightly as you continue to stare at him expectantly.

“I always listen to you,” he responds grumpily.

“There’s that smart mouth of yours again,” you shake your head in mock disappointment. “Now, see, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now if that were the case. So, we’re going to start at lesson one: do exactly what I say, without question.”

He laughs in disbelief despite feeling the way his cock twitches in excitement in his pants at your words, “like hell I’ll do that.”

“Did I fucking stutter, Katsuki?” Your hands are on your hips now as you stare him down. “Now, I want you to get on your knees.”

“Excuse me?” He shoots you an incredulous look, not believing what you’ve just told him to do.

“I said,” you breathe, closing your eyes briefly as you walk towards him, grabbing him harshly by the back of his hair and pushing him down onto the floor beneath you, “on your fucking knees.”

A gasp escapes him as he feels his knees make contact with the floor, loving the way your hand feels harshly gripping his hair, forcing him to look up at you. Tugging at his hair causes a low groan to escape his lips, causing him to flush red in embarrassment once more.

“What did I say?” You hum, “you’re practically begging to be put in your place.”

“That’s not-“ he begins to protest, but a strangled moan escapes his throat as you tug on his hair once more.

“You were saying?” You smirk, only receiving another scowl in response. “Lesson two: right here, right now, you will address me as your Mistress. Do I make myself clear?”

“What? Like hell I’m calling you tha-“

“Do I make myself clear?” 

Another tug at his hair has him biting his lip before conceding, “yes, Mistress.”

“Good boy,” you release the hold your hand has on his hair in order to bring your hand down to cup his face gently. He stares up at you defiantly, but you can see the excitement growing in his eyes. He’s wanted this for a while now, and he can feel his cock straining against his jeans, practically begging for your touch. “Now, I think you should make it up to me, given the way you’ve acted today, don’t you?”

“Yeah, right-“

“What was that?” Your hand grips his chin, forcing him to stare directly into your eyes as a sadistic smile rests on your face.

He huffs slightly, eyes avoiding yours now as he grumbles out, “yes, Mistress.”

“Glad you agree,” you hum, releasing you grip on him in order to undo your pants. “We’re going to put that mouth of yours to good use, and maybe by then I’ll have thought of a suitable punishment for a brat such as yourself.”

At this, it’s his turn to quirk a brow at you, watching as you strip yourself of the rest of your clothes in front of him. He smirks, drinking in your figure before him and admiring every curve you have to offer. If this is his punishment, he’ll gladly take it. After all, he can’t wait to have you begging for him later tonight.

“Lesson three:” you begin to say, positioning yourself right in front of him, your hips in his line of sight. His mouth salivates at the thought of getting to taste you as your one leg comes to rest over his shoulder, hand now back in his hair. Just as he’s about to bring his hands up to help steady your figure more, your voice is halting his movements, “no touching me if you still want to come tonight.”

“Huh?” He recoils slightly, eyes wide as his cock throbs, reminding him of how painfully hard he’s become already, and once again he’s reminded how you have still yet to touch him.

“You heard me, baby,” you smirk down at him, fingers tightening their hold slightly in his hair. “Hands behind your back; no touching unless I say so. Now, put that mouth to good use.”

Without waiting for a response, you push his head down. Putting his hands behind his back, his eyes flick briefly to yours before he’s attaching his mouth to you, sucking your clit into your mouth before flicking it a few times with his tongue. 

One thing you can always count on Katsuki for is his need to be the best. No matter what he does, he’s always proving to everyone that he can do anything better than anyone else. No one compares to him, and even if he’d rather you be sucking his cock first right now, he’ll prove to you that he does in fact, deserve to come tonight. That, and he can listen. He wants to make you feel good, always, and seeing this side of you has sparked a new flame of desire for you in him. He’ll be your good boy, but he’s going to make you work for it.

Throwing your head back, you let out a moan, feeling him lick at your entrance with his tongue before moving it back up to flick at your clit. Your sounds are music to his ears, and he never grows tired of hearing his name fall from your lips, especially during these times. He only wishes he could touch you back, to tease you like you’ve been teasing him. However, he’ll do what he can for now, eating you out like a man starved, moving his tongue just how you like.

By now, your hand is gently stroking the top of his hair, brushing it out of his face so he can maintain eye contact with you as you grind your pussy on his mouth. You can feel the rumble of approval he lets out from his chest as you tug on his hair every now and then, only causing you to smirk.

“See, baby,” you comb your fingers through his hair for emphasis, “you do know how to properly use that mouth of yours.” His eyes flash and he renews his efforts tenfold. Again, he wants to prove to you that he can do it, to please you in a way that only he can. A low groan escapes your lips, “that’s it, baby boy, just like that.”

The nails of his right hand dig harshly into the skin of his left wrist, wanting nothing more than to grip your thighs and pull you into him so you cannot escape the pleasure he’s giving you. He can feel his chest swelling with pride with each jolt of your hips into his face, letting him know you’re enjoying this, too. Except, he can feel himself becoming greedy; he wants more.

“You gonna make me come?” A growl is all you get in response. “Come on, baby, make me come all over that pretty mouth of yours.”

His chest is heaving as a feral look takes over his eyes. Seeing you above him like this has awakened some part of him he never knew he had, and he loves the control you have over him right now. All he wants to do is please you, to make you feel good and be your good little boy until you can’t take it anymore. This is what he deserves, what you deserve.

With a few more sucks of your clit into his mouth, you can feel yourself tipping over the edge. Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging harshly at the roots as you anchor yourself to him, his tongue continuing to work you through your orgasm as your eyes flutter closed. 

A breathless moan of his name slips passed your lips, and his whole body twitches, gut clenching in ecstasy. His eyes watch your every movement as you still above him, your head thrown back as you attempt to catch your breath.

“That’s my good boy,” you breathe, removing your leg from his shoulder as you steady yourself onto your own two feet. He smirks subtly as he watches you sway slightly, knowing that he’s the one who’s done that to you. “Now, on your feet, baby.”

As soon as he goes to move, the smirk is falling right off his face. His pants are no longer uncomfortably tight, but instead, he can feel stickiness pooling against his skin as the material rubs against his sensitive cock.

“What’s the matter, baby boy?” You tilt your head mockingly as your eyes glance down to see the dark wet patch on his jeans. A sadistic smile spreads itself across your lips, eyes glinting darkly. “How cute,” you hum, “was the thought of my wet cunt on your lips that tempting to make you come untouched?”

“Shut up,” he growls, cheeks flaring once more as he avoids you gaze.

“How sweet,” you purr, walking over to the bed and kneeling on it. You notice him starting to head towards the bathroom to clean himself up before your voice has him halting in his tracks, “where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you yet.”

#bnha scenario #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha x you #mha smut #anime smut #anime scenario #bakugou imagine #bakugo scenario #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #anime imagine #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha imagines #my hero imagines #my hero academy fanfiction

[justlistenuniverse]

Chad x Ryan Headcanon

So, I rewatched the High School Musical movies, and my brain won't shut up about Ryan and all the possibilities. I mean, the movies don't really show a lot of the characters outside of Troy and maybe Gabriella, but I have a lot of ideas.  Since I can't be bothered writing a fanfiction right now, these little plot points should do it. (There's a little Chad/Ryan in there and a lot of me ignoring canon) 

Sharpay and Ryan are really close, even though she keeps using him, and he knows it, but he hasn't had friends outside of his sister for a long time, and he kind of profits from her reign of terror, so he lets her do it. 

When she ditches him in the summer, Ryan starts realizing how lonely he really is. He loves his school, and his classmates are fine, but thanks to Sharpay's attitude and him tagging along, all he gets from them is a sneer and people calling him Sharpay's lapdog (which is really not fair, she has Boi) 

He spends a lot of the time he now has alone, walking around the Lava Springs grounds, maybe booking one of the rooms for a small dance rehearsal.

Then Gabriella invites her along to the game, and Ryan is suspicious, but he also doesn't have anything better to do, so he tags along and lets Taylor and Gabriella tell him all about the game. It's the first one this summer, but there's another one planned, and they are hoping Troy might make it to that one, even though Chad is their best player. 

He loves playing Baseball. He forgot how fun it was, ho he used to get so excited for practice, and his games before he decided that Theater would be a more realistic career choice for someone like him and dropped out of the team. Sharpay dragging him along and commanding all his time might have weighted into that decision, too. He tries hard not to think about him leaving Baseball behind, which also meant him leaving his friends behind (but he can't help some memories playing in his head as he watches the boys warming up on the pitch) 

Gabriella offering him up as a choreographer, shouldn't feel this good, but he's always loved dancing and coming up with choreographies for his favorite musical numbers. There could be worse things than training the Wildcats for the Star Dazzle Award. 

He hadn't been planning on playing, not really, but he does, and the game is the most fun he had in weeks. His muscles apparently remember his Baseball games just fine, and he feels a little bit of hope growing inside of him. Maybe he won't have to be alone all summer long. 

When his team loses the game, all that hope is gone. The past hours will probably be the only fun ones he'll have this summer. He won't be training the Wildcats, and he definitely won't make some friends now. But then Chad tells him he will at least try to dance, and everyone gets really excited about the prospect of taking part in the talent show, so Ryan allows the hope back in. 

They invite him for post-game fries, and hanging out with all of them makes him realize how starved he really is for social interactions after years of just Sharpay. Gabriella drags him along to her house, where they all watch a movie, but it all feels so unreal that Ryan is sure he'll wake up all alone tomorrow. 

Even when Chad and Gabriella and some of the others program their numbers into his phone, that feeling won't leave him. 

He does not wake up without friends, though

There are a couple of texts from Gabriella, and a picture of an article about Ryan and his Little League Team Chad dug up on the internet and might be freaking out about (Ryan did remember that article. It had praised him as a rising talent of the Baseball league. His mom still has it framed in her office). 

Ryan skips breakfast and instead goes and books his favorite rehearsal room after he steals/consults his new possible friend's working hours to find a convenient time for rehearsal.

He tries out a couple of ideas by himself and then finds Kelsi to ask about the Song she wrote. They make a surprisingly good team once she stops being afraid of him. 

Gabriella finds him on her lunch break, and the two of them talk over Sandwiches. Taylor eventually joins them. They find out all of them have the same favorite TV Show and make plans for a joined binging of season one at Gabriella's place since she owns the box set. 

Talking with them is so easy, some of the anxiety in Ryan calms down. He even waves at Chad and Zeke when they come in for their afternoon shift, and they smile and wave back. 

The anxiety gets even better when all of the Wildcats turn up for their first rehearsal, eager to learn the dance moves Ryan came up with 

There's a lot of laughter, something that rarely happened once Sharpay and him started rehearsing for school plays. Ryan loves it.

Chad is a surprisingly good dancer when he puts his mind into it. Jason is a hopeless case, but he's weirdly enthusiastic, and Ryan offers him extra training after work.  

He gets a text from Zeke the next morning, inviting him for breakfast in the kitchen. He gets cookies, and Martha shows him that she already memorized most of the chores, which is truly amazing. He relaxes enough around them to make sarcastic comments and tease Chad.

Rehearsing is a lot of fun with them. It's also chaotic and loud, but Ryan really doesn't mind. Even Jason gets into it after a while.

They keep inviting Ryan to hang out with them after work or when they are on break. Eventually, it becomes a common occurrence for him to come walk into the kitchen. Common enough that Mr. Fulton doesn't blink anymore whenever he tries to be awful to them but can't because Ryan will quietly glare at him (He wouldn't need too. Mr. Fulton likes him, but he's slightly scared of Sharpay and follows her every word)

Taylor and Martha join him for his yoga classes.

Gabriella, Taylor, and he have that binging night. The next day, Taylor needs a triple shot espresso to function, and Gabriella nearly falls asleep on the job. Ryan walks into a wall; he's so tired, but it was definitely worth it. 

His mom notices the difference in him. Sharpay doesn't. It stings. 

Chad asks him once why he doesn't play Baseball at school. "We could use someone like you on the team," Ryan tells him that he wants to concentrate on acting and dancing as much as possible. He doesn't tell him that he never really noticed how much he missed the sport. 

Chad nudges him and laughs. They keep throwing a Baseball back and forth. 

Ryan does get dragged into the second employee Baseball game as well as a couple of smaller ones. He's always playing against Chad because both are super competitive, and it makes for a good match. 

Chad and Zeke try t teach him Basketball, but he doesn't really get it. Jason offers him one on one lessons for his extra dance training.

It takes a while for Ryan to notice how happy he is now that he has so many people to talk too.

He also noticed how hurt everyone is because of Troy's behavior, Chad and Gabi most of all. He tries to apologize to them for his sister, but they wave him off. "You are not your sister, Ryan. You shouldn't be taking the blame on you." (He nearly tears up)

Then, Sharpay manages to exclude them from the talent show, and Ryan feels like his world is crumbling around him. Gabi texts him that she broke up with Troy. Chad calls him later that night, and they talk about how weird this summer is. "But honestly, I am glad we are friends now, Ry. You are kind of awesome." 

Hatching a plan to get back at Sharpay is easy once Kelsi comes rushing into the kitchen, telling them how Troy turned Sharpay down. Taylor immediately calls Gabriella, and the four of them come up with a plan. Ryan is an expert on everything Lava Springs and Sharpay, Chad and Gabriella know Troy better than anyone else, and Taylor is a fucking genius. The others love the plan. 

He finds himself driving Kelsi over to Gabriella's house for a song rehearsal, and he stays to watch her sing, She looks less perky than usual, more exhausted. But she still has that spirit that keeps pulling everyone in, and when she smiles at him, he knows she'll be okay again. He is happy about that. 

Ryan feels guilty about playing Sharpay like this, but he still has her voice in his head, degrading him in every way possible without telling him he sucks. Kelsi tells him it's gonna be okay. 

When the big evening ends with Troy and Gabi back together, and the award in Ryan's hand like the exaggerated apology it is, Ryan thinks he's dreaming. 

For a short moment, Ryan thinks the team will ditch him now that they got Troy back, but they don't. They introduce him to Troy like he's the second-best thing that ever happened to them, and Troy makes an effort to get to know him. There are no rehearsals anymore, but basketball games, lazy baseball practice, impromptu dance battles with Martha, and more text conversations than Ryan's phone has ever handled. 

Sharpay starts making amends, She comes knocking on his door, and they talk. She writes apologies to Troy and Gabriella and Kelsi and delivers them personally. She grumbles all the way through writing them, but she smiles when they accept. 

They invite her to hang out with them, too, and she fits the group well. There's a blush on her face when Zeke presents her with cinnamon buns, and she starts holding his hand. Ryan just smiles, glad his sister might admit her crush on the boy now. 

Work at Lava Springs becomes more relaxed for the Wildcats after Fulton calms down. They get treated like everyone else, and while he's still strict on their break times, he lets them have more fun now. 

The end-of-summer-party Sharpay organizes is a hit. She plans to make it a standing event for employees from now on, no matter who they are. 

Then their Senior Year starts. Everything is the same, but also kind of different. Ryan grew a lot over the summer, and his friends helped him be more self-confident in a less arrogant way. 

Sharpay mellowed out a bit, too. It's partly because of the Wildcats accepting her into their group, partly due to her affection for Ryan and also because of Zeke spending a lot of time with her. Ryan might have caught them in the Evan's private kitchen once, both of them giggling as Zeke showed her how to make the cookies she loved so much. He didn't tell anyone. 

But then, Sharpay starts to fall back into her old ways some weeks into the school year. She snaps at Ryan, ignores Zeke, flirts with Troy, and tries to make Theater all about her again. 

Ryan doesn't know what's happening, and neither does anyone else. Zeke is a sad puppy all the time, and Jason spends a lot of time trying to cheer him up. 

However, Ryan is still quite settled. He visits all of Chad's games, Basketball and Baseball, and cheers his friends on. He tells Martha to audition for the cheerleaders and is her biggest fan once she gets in. Martha, Taylor, and he still do Yoga together twice a week with an instructor Ryan pays. When his dance class takes part in a competition, he gets cheered on by his friends. He and Gabriella have a standing movie night once a month, with brownies and whatever TV Shows they love. He and Kelsi still work great together, writing and choreographing the graduation musical, and they love to hang out outside of the show, too. There's not one day he doesn't get hundreds of text messages. 

His favorite text convos are the late-night ones with Chad and Gabi. They eventually morph into late-night-dinner-visits. Sometimes, Troy or someone else will join them. The Diner staff has a booth for them, and they have usual orders. 

Sharpay gets a PA. Ryan doesn't like Tiara. She makes him feel like he's worthless all over again, and there's a cold aura around her despite her playing nice. Gabriella tells him to keep an eye on her if she keeps making him feel that way. Taylor says he's far from worthless. 

Chad tells him  about how scared he is once it becomes clear that Troy might not be as set on the U of A as everyone thought. They met when they were five, and they did everything together since. The only difference would be Baseball and Golf, and that's why the summer was so hard for Chad. He can't imagine himself without Troy by his side. He doesn't know who he is when he's not Troy Bolton's best friend. Ryan isn't sure what to say, but he holds Chad when he starts to cry, and he promises him to help him figure out who he is. 

Ryan is the third person Gabriella tells about the program at Stanford. Her mom and Taylor both think she's acting childish, and she needs someone else to help her make a decision. Ryan holds her hand and carefully tells her that h thinks she needs to talk to Troy. He also tells her not to worry about the show, because that's not a problem she should concern herself with right now. Her future is calling, with an incredible opportunity, and he doesn't want her to regret missing out on it. 

Sharpay finds out about the program and tells Troy about it before Gabriella can. Ryan gets so angry, he yells at her. He doesn't understand why she's trying to ruin everyone's Senior Year. She hisses at him to grow up and leaves the house. 

Gabriella invites all of her friends to her house and tells them she'll graduate early and leave. She clutches Troy's hand so tightly her knuckles turn white, but he lets her. And then she's the center of a huge group hug. Jason grabs Chad, and they drive off to get them drinks and snacks, turning the whole meeting into a little goodbye party. 

At one point, Ryan finds himself standing next to Zeke on the balcony. Zeke confesses that he had been planning on asking Sharpay to be his prom date, but she broke up with him before the first posters popped up. Ryan has seen a lot of heartbreak lately, and Zeke might just be the worst. He can't do anything but listen, though, and Zeke gives him a sad little smile when Ryan drops him off at his house. 

Sharpay tries to win him for whatever plan she has, but he refuses. He's busy with school and the show and sad about Gabriella leaving, and he won't betray his friends. 

Kelsi tells him she's gay one morning when they sit at the piano in one of the music rooms and figure out the words for a song. She only told her parents and Jason so far. Ryan offers to take her to prom as friends because he hadn't planned on going with a romantic date anyway. 

He wonders when he became the person people trusted in, but it feels good to have them trust him, and he knows he can tell them everything, too. 

Rehearsals are less fun now. They still want to do the show, and they work their asses off, but Gabriella was more critical for the group dynamic than anyone had realized. They miss her like crazy, and seeing Troy act like a heartbroken puppy gets frustrating. They also have to deal with a sad Zeke, who has to watch Sharpay throw herself at Troy at any possible time. It's not easy. 

Late-night-diner-visits are just Ryan and Chad now. They are both comfortable in the presence of each other, but Gabriella is missing even here. When she tells them she won't be coming for prom and the show, they all get even more depressed, even when Gabi says she will be back for the graduation celebration. 

Troy leaves to get Gabriella back. He doesn't tell anyone until he's left the state, only sending a group message when there's no way of getting him back. His dad calls Chad and then Troy, ranting about how he should have said something so he could've gotten his parent's car, which would've been much safer for a trip like that. Nobody is surprised at Troy's actions, though.  

Prom without Troy and Gabriella is a little weird, but still lots of fun. Ryan dances with Kelsi and Martha and Taylor, and even Chad. Sharpay doesn't show, which makes Ryan worry. When he comes home late at night, he finds her curled up in his bed, fast asleep. He slips under the blanket and pulls her close, falling asleep with his sister in his arms. 

Sharpay is already awake when he opens his eyes the next morning, sitting on the bed in an old pair of pink sweatpants and one of Zeke's shirts. She's always well dressed, and the fact that she isn't right now tells Ryan that this is serious. He waits for her to speak first. 

She tells him about the Julliard chatroom she's been frequenting nearly every day since the summer. How she chatted with lots of people on there, all of them having the same dream. How she started to panic once she read some of their resumes and realized that her own resume had a lot of leading roles but also that understudy part of the spring musical from a year ago. She doesn't have a plan B, Julliard was always her first choice, and she can't let that go. So she started to push them all away and focused on getting herself a more significant role in the show. Flirting with Troy had already been a habit, Zeke would have held her back. Ryan is her twin, but it's only one scholarship, and while neither of them needs it, this scholarship is tied to the last free spot at Julliard. She tells him how she had never felt so alone, and that she's missing hanging out with them. She even misses Gabriella, and she doesn't like Tiara. "Nobody is that nice all the time, Ryan! Even Gabriella had her bad moments when she was around me." 

Ryan hugs her tight and makes her Pancakes and smoothies. Then he texts Zeke. 

Zeke turns up on their doorstep twenty minutes later, still in his PJs. Sharpay all but jumps into his arms, crying into his shoulder as he holds her. Ryan leaves them be and retires to his room to text Chad and Gabriella, only coming out when it becomes clear that they have to leave for the show. 

He gets to drive Sharpay's car for the first time ever because his sister refuses to let Zeke's hand go. He accepted her apology, and while he told her he would need some time to fully forgive her, he did kiss her softly. The two of them look a bit ridiculous with Zeke in his PJs and Sharpay having changed into a hot pink tracksuit, but Ryan's happy for them. 

Gabriella texts him that her mom is driving her and Troy back to East High, and to please get her a ticket. He promises her he'll put her mom on the guestlist.

East High is pretty empty. It's a Saturday, and the show won't be starting until much later. The time before is for making sure everything is okay, going through the whole thing once, warming up their voices and muscles, and trying to get rid of any complications they might get. Sharpay apologizes to all of them and explains her behavior, which leads to Ms. Darbus telling her how she should have just said something, and Kelsi would have written her a different storyline, something more substantial. Chad tells her he'll make her life a living hell if she treats Ryan like that ever again, but then he hugs Sharpay, and she smiles and lets him. 

Ryan quietly admits that he send applications for Sharpay to some other schools where she can study acting. Sharpay kisses him on the cheek and says he should've told her. 

Troy texts Chad that he isn't sure if he'll make it in time, so Kelsi pulls Rocket aside to help him go over the Song again. 

Sharpay finds Tiara in her wardrobe, showing her real face. The conversation unsettles her much after the whole emotional morning, and it takes Ryan a little while to calm her down again. 

The show is chaotic but good. Ryan enjoys every single minute of it. To everyone's relief, Troy and Gabriella make it in time for their first Song, which allows Sharpay to kick Tiara of the show, and the rest of them to breathe easy. 

He never doubted Kelsi would receive the scholarship, but hearing that they decided to take him on, too, is surreal and incredible, and he doesn't think Sharpay hugged him so hard in years. 

They throw an After Party right there in the Auditorium. There are music and drinks, and their parents stay to mingle. His mom tells Ryan that she already got a two-room-flat in New York, and he asks Kelsi to be his roommate so she won't have to worry about housing. 

Chad is still a bit upset about Troy's choice, but he tells him he'll be okay as long as Troy keeps in contact with him, and Troy swears Chad'll be annoyed with him by the end of the first term. 

Gabriella has to go back to Standford the next day, but this time around, it's okay. Troy still mops about, but now that he choose a University that won't be all that far away from her he's better. 

The rest of the school year goes by in a rush of exams and presentations. Ryan spends a lot of time on the living room floor, surrounded by notes and Sharpay, maybe even Zeke. 

Graduation day is fantastic and awful at once. Ryan cries. Everyone cries. They take more pictures together than is probably healthy, and Ryan is already picking out frames for his favorite ones mentally. 

Most of them still have a few weeks before they'll have to leave, but Taylor has to leave early, and so do Ryan and Kelsi. Gabriella will be staying a bit longer since her Semester won't be starting until Troy's does. 

Ryan's last night is spent at the diner with Chad, Gabi, and Sharpay. Sharpay offers Chad to room with her since her parents had gotten her a flat near Campus, and she knows that Chad would just have stayed at the dorms for the first year. It's a surprise, but Chad accepts happily, and Ryan feels they will work well. 

All of their friends gather to see Kelsi and Ryan off. Ryan gets hugged so much he starts to believe he won't be able to stand up without a pair of arms around his body. Gabriella makes him promise to text her as often as possible, Sharpay cries and says she'll be visiting him a lot, and Chad hugs him tightly enough to bruise a rip. 

Ryan loves Julliard. It's competitive and loud, but it's also passionated and flashy. He's surrounded by people who are just as taken with the showbusiness as he is, and while it's a bit hard to make genuine friends, he manages. 

Kelsi gets a girlfriend, and the three of them have movie nights at their apartment. 

Sharpay does visit them quite a lot. She brings Chad with her once, and Ryan spends the whole weekend showing his friend the city. Chad absolutely loves New York, and Ryan invites him for an extended stay during their next break. 

It's in his second year at Julliard that Ryan finally accepts the fact that he is gay. He thought he might be bisexual, but after a couple of make-out sessions with cute guys and no attraction whatsoever for any girl in his classes, he nods and sighs. There are no tears or break-downs. Instead, Kelsi gets him his favorite Milkshake, and they celebrate. 

Telling his family is easy. His parents have never been judgemental about sexuality, and Sharpay just shrugs and tells him not to steal her boyfriend. Ryan laughs and tells her Zeke would never leave her on his own free will. When he calls Gabriella, she says she'll love him anyway, and Troy teases him about crushing on cute actors. (Turns out Troy himself has a crush on Jensen Ackles, which they bond over).  

He tells Chad in person when he visits him at Chad's Uni. Chad is silent for a while, and then he nods and admits that he thinks he is bisexual himself. They get drunk and have a long discussion about sexuality. 

Ryan visits all the games of Troy and Chad in New York. They always get him tickets, and he will cheer them on loudly. 

His third year is so stressful, he nearly misses one of Chad's games. He's landed a leading role in a Julliard production while choreographing a smaller show on the side and is swapped with course work. He barely has time to sleep and eat. Kelsi's the same, their apartment filling with dirty dishes and clothes. But he finds Taylor standing at their door an hour before the game starts, and she presents both of them with tickets. 

Despite constantly texting, they have a lot to talk about. Taylor and Chad broke up shortly into their first year of University, but they are still close to each other, and Ryan kind of admires them for it. She tells him all about her new boyfriend and gushes with Kelsi about a movie they had watched recently. 

The four decide to go out for Pizza after Chad finds them, freshly showered and grinning brightly from winning the game. He looks incredibly handsome and relaxed, and Ryan finds himself staring at him more than once. 

It takes one more visit for Chad and Ryan to finally kiss. It's January, and they are sitting on the roof of Ryan's apartment building. Wrapped in blankets, and with warm cocoa, watching the sky. Later, neither can tell if one of them started it or both leaned in at the same time, but it doesn't really matter. All that matters are their lips meeting softly, Ryan's hands in Chad's hair, and Chad's fingers searching for warm skin. It's slow and sweet, and it goes on forever. 

Long-distance is easier for them than they expected. They've been friends for nearly five years at this point, and they spent three of those apart. Now, they call and text more, and visits get a bit more frequent, but both are willing to work hard. Kelsi says it shows. 

Telling their friends and families isn't a big deal. Gabriella squeals so loudly, Ryan is sure he'll get tinnitus. Troy calls him to say he'll hurt him if he hurts Chad, but also to call him if Chad's an asshole. Sharpay hugs them both, and threatens Chad with detailed revenge plans should he hurt her brother. Their parents invite the pair for dinner. 

Graduating from Julliard feels as unreal as leaving High School, but Ryan has already secured his first job as a choreographer for a dance show, and he's happy. 

Sharpay moves to New York and brings Zeke with her, who landed a fancy bakery job and still dreams about opening his own one in the future. He starts a YouTube channel, and Sharpay gets cast for a Broadway production. 

The invitations for Troy's and Gabriella's wedding don't surprise anyone. Chad is Troy's best man, and Gabi asks Ryan to be the ring bearer. It's a beautiful wedding. Ryan cries. 

Chad moves to New York two years after graduating college, signing with the Knicks and asking Ryan to move in with him. They made it work so far, and while both their schedules are packed, they also make it work when living together. 

The ten-years-reunion of their class takes place in Lava Springs. They kept in contact with most of their friends from High School, so nothing is really a surprise. Some of the other people are surprised at seeing Chad and Ryan kiss, but Nobody says anything. 

Bonus:

Kelsi wins a Tony for her very first musical. She works with Ryan on another stage production, and both of them get an award. 

Chad stays with the knicks, and Ryan keeps cheering him one while wearing his High School Trikot. Tumblr loves them, and they get listed as one of the Top 15 Power-Couples, even though none of them are sure why. 

Zeke and Sharpay break up two more times before she proposes to him. He never opens a bakery, because his YouTube channel picks up so much he doesn't need too. They move into a place with a bigger kitchen. 

I have no idea what Troy does, but whatever it is, he's happy. 

Lava Springs somehow gets to be where their whole group meets up once a year for a weekend. Mr. and Mrs. Evans are glad to welcome them, and Mr. Fulton likes to tease them about the Star Dazzle Award. 

Chad proposes to Ryan a year after gay marriage becomes legal in all fifty states. 

Ryan loves it when Chad kisses his temple, while Chad practically melts whenever Ryan plays with his hair 

#chad danforth #ryan evans #gabriella montez #chyan #chad x ryan #high school muscial #headcanon #i will go down with this ship #troy bolton #taylor mckessie #kelsi nielsen #sharpay evans #zeke baylor #sharpay x zeke #bear with me #this is bullshit but i love it #so many ideas #so littel time #i dont dance #senior year #otp #ship #chad is bi and you can't take that away from me