#and when i am able to do that - or when i build in pauses for reflection on praxis like this - it helps me

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 9 - Yes, Of Course | ‘Ours’

It was approaching 3 am for you and Teddy in New York. It was early morning for Trent so you decided to give him a call. Teddy was being fussy to say the least but even so she was still in a good mood other than that. She would not go to sleep and she was adamant about not. You thought she’d be tired after the flight but evidently that wasn’t the case but you sure were.

“Hi Daddy…” you cooed tiredly when Trent answered. Teddy squealed excitedly seeing him appear on your phone. “Yeah? Is that dada?” You kissed her cheek laughing a little bit at her reaction. She was obsessed with him.

“What are you doing up, baby?” He asked quietly as he sat at the island in your kitchen having a protein shake back in England. You rolled your eyes adjusting your hold of Teddy. He caught on quite quickly seeing your demeanor versus Teddy’s. “Oh baby bear… c’mon now. Be good for mummy and go to sleep. Aren’t you tired, silly girl?” He asked Teddy as if she could respond saying ‘No, dad. I’m not and I’m keeping mum up who's been awake since 6 am UK time yesterday, having the time of my life.’ She was having a great time. Giggling away, happy as can be.

“She’s not having it. I guess it’s early for her with the time change but I’ll tell you baby, this is not it.” You laughed exhausted in delirium. You stroked her cheek and pinched at her pudgy tummy as she continued a hiccuped laugh. “She’s like wired. I don’t understand.” Trent laughed seeing his daughter try to grab at your phone to get closer to him.

“I’m sorry, baby. I wish I was there.” He paused, taking a sip of his drink. He smiled with a full mouth before he swallowed, making a face at Teddy only spurring her excitement on.

“No,” you laughed. “No, you really don’t.” You frowned as she drooled all over your bare shoulder. Teddy just would latch her mouth anywhere on you whenever she got the chance. “Come here little Teddy bear, let's at least be comfortable, huh?” You pulled her body with yours leaning back against the headboard of the bed. You pulled the blanket up over you both as she sat kicking away in your lap.

“Do you just want to be having breakfast with Daddy? Is that it?” He laughed at you two sitting in the bed missing you a little more. Normally, he’d be right next to you. It wasn’t fun to be apart.

“I wish she’d just want to go to sleep. What about that, baby? If we go to sleep, when you wake up you’ll be that much closer to being able to have breakfast with daddy.” She didn’t pay attention to you. She was transfixed on Trent.

“I’ll be there soon, beautiful. Breakfast with daddy really soon, Ted.” He cooed wishing he could just grab Teddy from you and let you get some rest but unfortunately he couldn’t, leaving him feeling rather helpless.

Trent flew that night after his match to the US. You spent the day with your mum and Lauren catching up and doing some shopping along with Teddy. By the time Trent flight arrived and he made it into Manhattan it was late. You were asleep in the bed when Trent came in. He tried his best to be quiet. He put his things down and didn’t bother to try to unpack. He walked over to where Teddy’s crib was and kissed her forehead but she was out cold. Her tiny snores filling the room. He attempted to take a shower silently but failed miserably when he kept dropping things. For someone who moved so gracefully on a pitch you often felt like he just bulldozed through things like a shower without a care in the world.

“T…” you called out seeing the bathroom’s light on seeping out from the crack of the door. He came out wrapped in a towel looking perfect as ever. “Mmm hi.” You hummed, reaching your arms out for him.

“Shit. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry, baby.” He came to you and pressed a big kiss onto your lips with a dramatic ‘mwah’ sound. “Missed you.”

“Missed you. Come here.” You pulled him onto the bed further by his muscular arm. He laughed at your eagerness.

“Let me at least dry off more and put some boxers on.” He spoke quietly, brushing his thumb back and forth over your skin. You shook your head ‘no’ adamant he just got into bed with you now so he obliged. He lets out a soft laugh and laid himself completely on top of you, resting his entire weight on you.

“T” You sleepily giggled. He placed light kisses down the side of your neck. The heavy weight of him soothing you, the warmth of his bare chest seeping into yours. His lips pressed against a particularly sensitive spot below your earlobe he knew you liked. You turned your head to avoid his cheeky advances. Trent picked up his head and looked down at you, his mahogany brown eyes boring into yours. He kissed your lips. You hummed feeling his pouty lips against yours. He rolled over dramatically laying on his back and pulled you into him. He kissed your forehead and you cuddled into him nestled perfectly in his embrace until you fell back asleep. You slept soundly back in Trent’s arms. Your eyes fluttered open early as you laid nestled on top of his chest. You nuzzled your face into his soft skin with a sigh relieved you were back encased in his familiar scent.

Warm winter sunlight seeped through the gap in the room's curtains and fell over your eyes. You shifted on top of Trent under the covers slightly, your cheek pressed against his chest. You pressed your soft lips against his bare skin. You dragged your foot up and down his muscular leg. His arm wrapped around your back and he pulled you tighter against him before a voice you love broke the morning silence.

“Comfortable baby?” He asked you. His morning voice always turned you on a little. It had the perfect amount of raspiness but frankly you were too exhausted to entertain that desire right now. You hadn’t slept that great since you got to New York until you got back in his arms. You were unaware he was even awake; you were so entranced in your own world.

“Mmmhmmm” you hummed before letting out a yawn. The haze of sleep hadn’t yet left your eyes. You realized he must have been awake for a while watching you sleep and it brought warmth and a faint blush to your face.

“If you’re still tired, go back to sleep.” He cooed with a kiss to your hair. He was so gentle with you, especially so in the morning. Your eyes gazed up at his usually sharp features but in the early morning light they looked delicate.

“It’s fine. She’s asleep and I want to spend time with you. I missed you, T.” You pulled yourself up more by his shoulders to give him a kiss on the lips.

“I’ll be right here. Not going anywhere you got me for the rest of your life.” He said before he kissed you back.

“Promise?” You giggled, looking back into his sleepy stare. His lips curled into a tired yet perfect Trent smile. There was something that was always so blissful about every morning you got to spend in his arms. You felt impossibly secure. Unfortunately until the off season moments of perfect simplicity tucked in bed weren’t all that often.

“Promise, beautiful.” He kissed you once more before you laid your head back down on his chest but kept your hand up to hold his face affectionately. You laid there melting into his embrace, loving simply existing in his presence.

“I’m glad you’re here, pretty boy.” You stoked your thumb over his high cheek bone. He was really pretty. You never forgot. Although sometimes seeing him first thing after waking up really amplified just how gorgeous he was. The softness of his facial expression. The tired pout of his lips. It just all really was beautiful.

“Where else would I be?” Trent ran his thumb over your plump lips then he gently moved some of your hair off your shoulder and tugged your warm body closer to his under the covers. Loving the press of your soft curves against him.

“Don’t know. I’m just happy you’re with us” you cooed genuinely happy he was back with you and your daughter. Things felt calmer when he was around. He had such a pacified vibe to him. Things just didn’t rattle him the way they did you. It was then in your quiet morning cuddled in bed you heard a whiny cry from the other room.

“Good morning, baby bear.” Trent whispered scooping up a sleepy Teddy who was laying on her belly. “How are you, my beautiful girl? Did you miss me?” She began to giggle as he kissed her all over. “I’ll always be with you two.” He spoke from the other room, continuing your conversation. He walked back into the bedroom with Teddy in his arms. “She’s pretty cute, huh?” he pinched one of her chubby cheeks eliciting a giddy squeal from her being being back in her dad’s arms.

“Very.” You confirmed. “Good morningggg!” You sang to her as she eagerly and frantically reached out to be with you in bed. “You like when daddy’s here to wake you up?" You smiled at Teddy smiling in his arms as Trent rubbed his thumb up and down her cheek. “By the way, Lauren and Win want to go out tonight… well they want to take you out.” You flicked your eyes from her to inform Trent of plans that had been laid out for him.

“We should go” he responded as he handed you Teddy then seated himself back in the bed getting comfortable again. He couldn't help but smile as he looked at the love of his life holding your baby, feeling his heart beating faster with each moment finally back together.

“Or… we could just stay right here.” You thought for a moment about how much you were enjoying your current company. You situated Teddy to sit on your lap in front of you two as she made adorable babbling noises. You leaned your head on Trent’s shoulder taking in the comfort of all being back together..

“Baby… we’re here. We should go with them, okay? Give you an excuse to dress up for me as well.” He rested his head on top of yours while wiping some spittle from Teddy’s face.

“For you? Really? I do not dress for the male gaze, thank you very much!” You pulled away from your nice family cuddle to better look at Trent with a feigned offense.

“Oh come on…. Sure, you don’t want me to stare when you wear all that. Baby, be really for a minute here.” He spoke looking your body up and down remembering all the things you specifically had told him you had worn just for him from skimpy bikinis, to little mini skirts, to lingerie in bed.

“It’s just an added benefit knowing I have you eating out of the palm of my hand with an outfit. It’s exactly what I want. Two birds, one stone.” You teased him. You knew there were things you opted to wear specifically because you thought he’d appreciate them. But dressing for the general male population… absolutely not.

“Is it? I knew it!” He celebrated boastfully by squeezing your frame into his strong embrace. “Just admit you’re trying to impress me, baby.” He laughed.

“Shush. I’m going to shower.” You broke out of his hold to get out of the bed. “You know what else I want?” He looked up at you inquisitively “I’d want you to watch our baby please.” You nodded towards Teddy who was now wiggling on the bed where you had plopped her. You giggled watching her before leaning over to blow a raspberry onto her tummy. “Can you watch Daddy while I’m gone, Teddy girl?” You asked her in an effort to tease Trent.

“Just go shower please!” Trent rolled his eyes and slapped your ass as you turned away from the bed. So you did, hopping into the shower. Trent moved himself and Teddy onto a play mat laid on the floor for her. “Remember what we talked about back home, Ted? Gonna ask mummy to marry me tomorrow. Think she’ll say yes?” He hushly spoke with a big grin. Teddy just replied with a little giggle and ‘puh’ noises smacking her lips together before trying to grab at Trent’s face. “Yeah ‘puh’ is right, that's exactly what I was thinking as well.” He laughed to himself rolling over onto his back and picking her up. He held her in the air above him as she squealed, wiggling. He pressed wet kisses with dramatic ‘mwah’ noises again and again to her till her big brown eyes were shut tight with laughter. He pulled her down to his chest and squeezed her in a hug. “Me, you and mummy, okay? We’ve always been a family, baby, the three of us but now we’re all gonna be Alexander- Arnold’s even mummy.”

You loved winter fashion in New York. There was just something so cozy about it. You were excited to go out and get ready and maybe dress up a little bit for Trent too. You put on a knit strapless top your boobs practically fell out of and a plaid skirt from Prada that if you bent over too abruptly your ass would probably show. You paired it with a pair of Givenchy boots and a Dior bag. It made you giddy to be back in Manhattan for a night out. As much as you were a mum now, currently keeping a close eye on your baby, you were also a girl about to go on a night out lining her lips in the bathroom.

“Yeahh this skirt, baby. It’s good.” He pinched your ass underneath its short hem.

“Hey! Keep your hands to yourself please!” You whined scolding him but secretly loving this attention he gave you. He knew that as well. You picked Trent’s outfit and he looked good, like almost so good it made you weary. You put on a cream colored faux fur jacket before you finally left the room.

“Maybe I’ll meet an American ting tonight. Start a life with her. Have a second baby.” He teased wrapping his arms around your waist from behind resting his chin on your shoulder as you were waiting for the lift.

“Oh shut up!” You rolled your eyes at him jokingly shoving at his arm. You held Teddy stepping in.

“I’m only joking, beautiful. I have the most perfect American and the most perfect baby. I don’t need anyone else and frankly, no one else could even ever compare.” You gave him a smug ‘mmmhmm’ with a side eye. “Do you like mummy’s jacket, baby bear? It’s soft huh?” Teddy rubbed her face into the fur of your jacket. She clearly did. You met your mum in the lobby, gave her a key to your room, and handed her Teddy. After that, you and Trent jumped in a Uber and were off for a rare night out without your baby. Winnie and Lauren decided it would be fun to take you but particularly Trent out to a bar the three of you had loved before you moved or even met Trent. You assumed it could be fun. A night out with Lauren usually was. Trent wasn’t keen about bars typically; it wasn't really his scene but ironically he was the one that convinced you to go tonight. You met at Winnie’s apartment further downtown. Trent had never been before but he was cute just exploring around the tight space. He had all sorts of questions about apartment living in New York and you thought it was sweet as he sat talking to her about where she did laundry. Also slightly ironic considering you weren’t sure Trent really knew how to do laundry. Pretty sure Dianne always did it and now you definitely did it for him. A group of people ranging from Winnie’s age to yours were all going out so it was a chill pregame you were used to. Sometimes you forgot that Trent didn’t experience college life though let alone regular ‘parties’ like this the way you did. You guessed he was out busy winning trophies. This was pretty standard to you but he was fascinated with all the games and the gossip. The whole thing was a whirlwind for him. Thankfully the majority of the people at Winnie’s didn’t follow football so it was great for him. Trent was flying under the radar and loving every minute of it. You ended up at an East Village dive bar well into the early morning.

“How come you look so good all the time, huh?” Trent whispered into your ear as you stood in front of him in his arms. You dropped your head embarrassed. You shook it back and forth disregarding his blatant compliment. “Nah, gotta answer me.” He cheekily squeezed your ass. You just looked up at him in the dimly lit bar. The lights from cars passing by outside shined on the high points of his face. “My” he spoke in your ear as he dragged his hands up your back and pulled you into him. He squeezed you so tight to his chest you were nervous your makeup was going to get all over his black t-shirt “baby.” He grunted the second word from squeezing you so tight. His arms held you to him. You couldn’t move so you just giggled.

“I like that.” you said into his neck as you slid your hands around him attempting not to spill the drink in your hand down his back.

“What, beautiful?” he asked, low and erotic to your ear. Your pussy clenched from the sound of his voice alone. He gripped your jaw tilting your head up with one of his big hands using the other to keep you pressed to him..

“No…” you cheekily withheld what you were speaking about. You just stayed tight to him enjoying the feeling of his body pressed to yours.

“Ahhh, you like when I tell you you’re mine? Well, good news for you, baby because you’re always gonna be.” He kissed your forehead before he dropped his head some for your noses to press against each other.

“Y/N, do you want anything?” Winnie asked, interrupting your moment before she went to get another drink. You shook your head ‘no’ your face still pressed to Trent’s, unable to get out of the haze he had you in until he pulled away from you. He had you wrapped around his finger. You tugged his hand down and whispered in his ear. Your wet juicy lips ghosting over its shell. Your voice dripping with need

“T…” you whined. He hummed and turned his head towards you. He clocked your intentions the second you locked eyes with him. His lips curled into a cheeky smile.

“You wanna go home?” He looked at you with a glint in his eyes. You shook your head ‘no’ at him once again.

“Well, what do you want then, dirty girl, hmm?” He came close to you again. His proximity turning the gears in your head, your thoughts shifting to incredibly lewd ones. You whimpered a measly ‘please.’ “I’ll take care of you. You just gotta tell me what you want. Tell me.” You just looked up at him in desperation. You wanted to be closer than you were right now. The tequila coursing through you amplifying your attraction to him. His drifting warm hand low on your back sending shock waves through your system. He leaned over and whispered behind in your ear out of view for anyone to possibly understand what this conversation was about. You nuzzled your face into his neck and nibbled onto his skin a little. Winnie’s eyes widened and cocked her head to the side interested in what had you two so secretive and handsy all of a sudden. She nudged Lauren who was chatting with one of the guys you were out with. Lauren threw her hand disinterested in something that had happened far too many times before. She didn’t care about you and Trent acting like you’d never hooked up before. That’s what this felt like. The anticipation to see what he did next had you on the edge of your seat. You grabbed his hand pulling him with you, weaving through the crowded bar. As turned on as you were, Tren felt like a teenage boy around you at times. Like he was a virgin getting picked by the prettiest girl at school. Trent turned back to Winnie and mouthed a ‘be right back.’ She rolled her eyes. He laughed and watched your determination pushing towards the bathroom.

“What? Did you need to talk to me or something?” He teased knowing exactly what you two were doing. You pouted at him. “I’m kidding. C’mere baby. You need me, hmm? I’ll take care of you.” You nodded embarrassed with big eyes slyly undoing his trousers.

“Oh see… you’re as turned on as me.” You said as you noticed how hard he already was. His big cock tenting in his boxers. The bathroom was cramped, especially with both of you in it. Trent pushed his knee in between your legs and spread them and pulling you in to straddle him. His hands swiftly moved around you and began to knead your ass.

“Baby, if I’m in the same room as you I’m like this.” He gestured to his cock beginning to leak precum with a laugh.”so you wanted to fuck me, huh? Needed me so bad you couldn’t wait? he breathed, pushing your back against the wall, hooking one of your legs over his hip.

“Uh huh” you moaned in between kisses. His hands bunched up your skirt over your hips before he dropped them to the back of your thighs picking you up entirely.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He put his lips to your ear. The tone was velvety laced with lust. You could feel his length press against your wet core. You breathed into his neck and helped line his cock up with your entrance. He pushed his hips into you without warning. Elicited moans you attempted to keep quiet from both of you. Your long nails dug into the muscles of his back over his shirt. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, you just grinding your hips into his. He slid further in before he began to fuck you against the bathroom wall. He had your legs lifted to your sides as your boots dangling over his arms. He held your body weight entirely for you as he continued to thrust into you.

“I love you so much. Oh fuck, T! You feel so good, baby.” You whined. Your sounds making his hips stutter. He gripped your thighs so hard that you were sure you might be leaving this bar with bruises.

“Baby, rub your clit f’me, yeah? Can you do that f’me?” You nodded desperately at his request. You moved your hand down quickly between you two to rub your clit in sync with his rough pace. The knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. “Good girl.” He whispered to you as he nibbled on your earlobe. You mewled as you arched your back gripping onto him even tighter than before.

“Oh my god” You cried loudly letting go of his back trying to cover your mouth. With his pace you needed to grab back onto him though. Your lips remained parted in shaky moans as he thrusted his cock harder and deeper. His veins grazing at your g spot and stretching you to your limit. With each stroke, Trent hit all the places he knew drove you crazy. This was exactly what you wanted.

“You’re mine, baby. Understand?” He said it was a seriousness and a harshness that made goosebumps arise on your skin. You moaned as your vision began to blur a little. Between the tequila you were driving and this feeling your head started to feel light and dizzy. You couldn’t think of any else but the roll of Trents hips. Each thrust clouding your mind. His lips coming to kiss and suck on your exposed collarbone. “Cum f’me, beautiful. That’s what you wanted right? Cum now.” He demanded so you did. Your body quivered as your pussy tightened around him.

“I’m yours, T. Fuck! I’m cumming, T, in cumming.” You let out a whiny cry as you came messily all over his cock. You continued to unravel as Trent let out a breathy moan of his own. His thrusts starting to become sloppier. Your chest rising and falling heavily your nails leaving crescent marks on his tanned toned arms as your orgasm continued to wash over you.

“Doing so good, baby. I got you. I’m gonna cum. Shit! Squeezing me so fucking tight.” He grunted still thrusting into you as his abs tensed. His eyes rolled back a little with deep breaths. He slowed almost to a halt as his cock pulsed inside your warm pussy. He pumped you full of his cum, painting your insides in sticky white. He caught your lips with a sweet kiss, brining your legs down still holding onto your waist. You stood on wobbly feet, barely able to balance in your heels. He took you in his arms and rocked you back and forth in a tight hug. He kissed tiny pecks all over your face. “That was so hot.” He laughed a little. You could only manage a hum with flushed cheeks, falling into his chest with a soft smile. You glistened with the sheen of sweat, slightly dazed from what you just did in the bars bathrooms

“Thank you” you giggled. You cleaned up and fixed your clothes. You stood in front of the mirror, readjusting your outfit.

“Wore this just f’me, hmm?” He teased coming to stand behind you. You rolled your eyes at him as you fixed your boobs to sit just right in your top. “That’s deffo for me.” You shot him one more glare but cracked a smile. “You look beautiful, baby. Always. Let’s go” he kissed your cheek before you practically fell out of the restroom of the bar, stumbling back into the crowd. He laughed into your neck squeezing your body to his from behind. You walked around for a moment trying to find where Lauren or Winnie went with Trent clinging to you. You found them tucked in a corner with two guys. Trent held you close as you slithered through the bar making your way.

“We gotta get back to le bébé.” You practically yelled for them to hear. Winnie nodded as a man she was with jaw slacked as he kept his hands wrapped around her hips.

“You have a child??” He asked wide eyed and shocked. Trent nodded, turning his phone that he was using to get an Uber on, clicking it off and then on again to show him Teddy as his background. Her perfect, beautiful, chubby cheeks, and pouty lips sitting in the car wearing a cozy bear onesie looking, at least in her parents opinions, fucking adorable.

“Oh shit. Didn’t know you were married, that's some real shit.” The kid drunkenly confessed. He was surprised you had had the night you did with everyone despite being parents. It was late, everyone was drunk and you were down in an east village basement bar, it wasn’t exactly the most parental scene.

“We’re not but yeah, it’s very real.” You giggled leaning your head on Trent’s shoulder. It always sent a tenseness through Trent’s body when you said you weren’t married. He hated the tone you said it in. Like you weren’t upset by it, that you needed to clarify to the person you definitely were not. He was weirdly offended by it but he was planning on fixing it asap.

“Soon. Promise.” He kissed your head. Lacing his fingers with yours before he pulled you out the bar, into an Uber and back to your hotel. You met your mum up in your room to relieve her from her duties watching Teddy. She of course was already sound asleep. Thankfully, it was your mum watching her and not a sitter. It was obscenely late. Anyone else probably would’ve been annoyed but she was happy you had a fun night with your sister back at home.

“What were you thinking as far as plans for today?” You asked Trent, watching him pull on his trousers before he came over to you and scooped up Teddy. He kissed her forehead and then looked at you through the bathroom mirror.

“You want to go on a walk, baby? Like up fifth?” Trent asked, bouncing Teddy on his hip in the en suite as you did your hair. You liked that idea. You were excited to show your little British baby your home. The place where you grew up, the place you had met her dad.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll go.” You brushed your hand over Teddy’s head. Aside from his invitation for the walk back at the hotel, Trent was fairly quiet all afternoon. You assumed it was because he was jet lagged. You slipped your fingers to lace with his, your other arm grabbing onto his bicep. He loved when you did that. Trent pressed a kiss to your hair as he pushed Teddy in her pram up the pavement of Fifth Avenue. You were waiting to cross the street as you stared down at Trent. He was crouched over talking to Teddy. Their identical pretty faces bearing the same smile. It warmed your heart so much to have them both. You’d face everything you’d been through in your whole life all over again if it meant you’d end up right here in this moment on this very corner with them. You’d do anything for the man and baby in front of you. You couldn’t imagine your life without either of them now. He stood up and you flashed a smile at him. Trent’s heart faltered a little. If someone would've told him that a few years ago on the streets of New York City on a lads summer holiday he would meet the woman he was about to propose to he surely would’ve thought that they were having a laugh. Frankly, he would’ve just rolled his big precious mahogany eyes at whoever was trying to convince him that’d be the case. Three years ago, Trent wasn’t exactly looking for someone. He was enjoying his single life and yet there you were crossing the street. His serendipity. You came into his life unforgiving. Creating emotions he had never had the time or care to entertain before. Yet there you were batting your perfectly curled eyelashes up at him under the brim of a hat in the summer sun.

‘Trent crossed the street towards the group of boys nonchalantly, he was playing off how smitten he had just become with a complete stranger

“Like I couldn’t build a more ideal woman, she’s a dream and she just stood there like she was somehow at a disadvantage.” Trent ranted.’

Three years and some days on after you had met you gave him the most precious gift. His first born. His baby girl, his daughter. Her chubby cheeks full of his uninhibited love for you. He could spend hours watching you with Teddy. Watching you through loving patient eyes not wanting to miss a thing. He did just that as you approached the next crosswalk. It was where you met. The place where you both felt like your life truly began. The corner of 78th street and 5th Avenue. A moment and place forever ingraine in your brain and heart. The most pivotal moment of your life happened right here. You pecked Trent’s cheek before turning your attention to Teddy.

“This is where mummy met daddy, Ted.” You cooed, peering into her pram. Trent bent over to what you thought was to re-tie his trainers at the cross. You watched in slow motion as he didn’t tie them and instead moved on to one knee.

“T… what are you doing…” you stood paralyzed by the sight of Trent in front of you on one knee on the corner of the winter New York pavement. You started to shake and not from the cold.

“Baby, listen to me…” You nodded as your eyes welled with tears. “The moment I first laid eyes on you. Right here. I knew in my core that my life was about to change. I felt it. Even my brothers knew it.”

“Why are you being like this bro? You’re down so bad already and you don’t even know her. What did she do to you!” They exclaimed…’

Your eyes looked at him completely shell shocked that this was actually happening. You could tell he was nervous looking at his puppy dog eyes you loved so dearly beneath you but his voice was calm as ever. His words were powerful and simple. You felt speechless so you just listened impatiently for the question you’d waited forever for. “Life with you makes perfect sense. You’re my best friend, baby. I know I was made to be the one for you. Made to take care of you, protect you, to love you and to cherish you. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world who deserves someone’s undivided attention, commitment, and appreciation. I fell in love with you for a million tiny reasons and I want to spend a lifetime discovering more of them.” He took a deep breath and you gave him an encouraging smile as you wiped away tears that were rolling down your cheeks. “Before I met you, days dragged on. I was comfortable just going in and out of matches, laying in my bed. I was at home but I felt a homelessness. Hollow even, maybe? It wasn’t until I met you that I finally felt whole. You filled a voice in my heart I never knew was so big. I had no idea what I was missing. What it felt like to have someone in your corner, in my stadium, in my home, my bed. Meeting you made me feel alive and loving you completed me. My life was just beginning as I fell in love with you. I want to be the best husband you so deserve. I want to build our family with you. Make me the luckiest man, baby. Will you marry me Y/N LN?” His perfect pouty bottom lip began to quiver as he tried to hold back his own tears. You weren’t as good as keeping your emotions at bay. You were sobbing. You always knew you’d spend the rest of your life with Trent but hearing him so sure and eager to do so caused happiness to overwhelm every fiber of your being. It was so overwhelming that you couldn’t stop the tears that slowly continued to flow down your face. Saying yes to Trent was as easy as breathing. You nodded shamelessly as he took your hand.

“Yes… of course, T.” You cried more trying your best to get the words out. They were barely a whimper. You couldn’t really catch your breath. The smile that pulled on his face was the most pure, authentic thing you’d ever seen. His larger hand held your smaller one. He slid the most perfect ring you could’ve imagined onto your finger. Your tears dropped down, splashing onto the back of your hand. You looked at your dream ring with two three carat diamonds nestled together. It had one pear shaped and an emerald cut set on a gold band filled with even more diamonds. It fit just the way it was meant to. Meant just for you. He was meant just for you. “You make me so happy, baby. I know you’re the only one I was meant to share the rest of my life with.” You cupped both his cheeks and brought his face up to yours. A kiss has never felt so right. “You’re sure about this? You giggled overwhelmed.

“Never been more sure of something. It's not a laughing matter, baby. I’ve never meant something more seriously than I do this.” He cooed serious as ever stroking your cheek before he dug into his pocket. He pulled out the tiniest ring you’d ever seen. A little diamond band probably too small even for your pinky. You tilted your head a little confused for a moment why he had it.

“Do you know who this is for?” You smiled coming to understand what he meant now. Trent had gotten a diamond ring for your baby girl as well. “I had to ask for permission to marry mummy, didn’t I?” He spoke, looking into your eyes still. “I asked your dad too about a year ago so don’t worry about that but this one is for our Teddy girl.” He laughed a little knowing you probably were starting to wonder. “You’re mine baby, I’m yours, and she’s ours.” He cooed leaning over to look at Teddy sliding the tiny ring onto her left hand's ring finger. You began to cry more.

“Ted… should I marry daddy?” You asked her with tears in your eyes as she wiggled so you took her excitement as a yes.

“Yeah? Excited for mama and dada, baby bear?” Trent asked her and she squealed. Your mum came and grabbed Teddy shortly after that but you were too overwhelmed to even process what was happening. A lot of people were actually there watching this unfold, you just had no idea. Trent had this planned to a T. “C’mere baby.” Trent pulled you into him. You clung to him on the corner in the cold, never feeling warmer. Your cheeks pressed together embraced

“I've been waiting my whole life for you.” You cried more. He just stroked over your hair keeping you encased in his arms. You kissed his cheek before you pulled away. “Wait a year ago… T, what the fuck?” you laughed at him. He couldn’t possibly be serious. In fact, he was. About a year ago Trent had asked your dad to marry you. He knew that was important to you and to your dad. Before he even got permission though he had been on the hunt for the perfect ring. He looked high and low for the one that was meant for you but no one got it just right. None were unequivocally you. So he found a jeweler to make it for him instead. It took ages to make it but when they finalized it he picked it up and hid the velvet box he had engraved with your new initials in the safe to be saved. When you got pregnant that shifted things a little. He could remember when you announced it to your family, your dad asking what that meant. Tent was nervous you’d think he was doing it because of the baby not because he genuinely wanted to so he held off. The proposal had always been planned and now it finally happened.

“I wanted it to be right.” He cooed looking at you. You laughed at how ridiculous that was but also shocked this ring existed for so long right under your nose. There were plenty of scares along the way though like when you went to get your passports from out of the safe unannounced and Trent practically had a heart attack.

“It was always right.” You kissed his lips. He returned the kiss slow and languid as his big hand came to hold the side of your neck. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the line of your jaw. You swore you could kiss him forever and never grow tired of it. And now with this ring on your finger, you’d get to do just that, forever.

“Yeah. Me and you. Always.” He gave you a pinky promise. You stuck out your pinky and wrapped it around his. He dropped his hand though quickly from yours and grabbed your face with both hands for a sloppy big kiss and you pouted at just how adorable he was all the time. You started to cry a little more coming to terms with what just happened so you hugged him for a while longer.

Trent and your parents had organized for everyone to meet you and him after at Bemelmans. You absolutely adored this bar. It was beautiful and had the best champagne. Just about everyone you knew was there and you were very confused. You felt like you were always so clued in so you were absolutely flabbergasted everyone had worked this whole plan around you. The whole Alexander-Arnold family had come to New York, even George and as you walked in, low and behold you saw Lauren talking at the bar with none other than Jude. You greeted Trent’s family first. Dianne was overjoyed, crying as she hugged you. She babbled on and on how excited she was to finally have you as a daughter officially. It was so sweet. You were also very eager to get over to where Lauren was. Once you were done with the niceties and congratulations from immediate family you ran to her.

“You knew!!!! What the fuck?” You yelled at Lauren grabbing both her arms, shaking her jokingly. She could only laugh at your dramatics. She gave you a big hug before she pulled away to get a good look at you.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” she shook her head. “Come on now… a few things here; one, no shot in hell T was going to propose to my best friend without me knowing. I’d murder him.” She picked up your hand to inspect your ring she’d approved of a long time ago finally now on your finger before she was going to continue on with her second point.

“Facts.” Jude then interrupted with a nice adlib to her ramble. You laughed at him before you leaned your head onto Trent’s shoulder while you awaited her next bit of reasoning.

“Two, this boy was ready to marry you after about a week. I don't know why you’re so surprised this happened.” Jude chiming in with another ‘facts.’ She snapped her head at him, annoyed but she did actually think it was a little funny. “Can you not?” she laughed at Jude. He grabbed Lauren by the waist and moved her to the side to come and give you a quintessentially Jude bone crushing hug.

“So happy for you. Trentski’s now forever locked in to be punching for the rest of his life.” He joked, shaking Trent's shoulder. George came over and grabbed you from behind.

“Hiii!” You squealed excited to see him. He gave you a big hug. Probably your millionth of the day but it was still special each one. You took a lot of photos with everyone who came but you weren’t exactly thrilled about it. Your eyes were so puffy from all the crying. Lauren assured you you still looked gorgeous but you didn’t totally believe her. Trent attempted to tell you the same but he just asked you to marry him. It's not like he was going to say you looked anything but perfect. You drank champagne all afternoon and showed off your ring time and time again celebrating your dream come true. Your mum took Teddy for the night and Winnie offered to bring her back to you in the morning. It was really sweet of them and honestly a little cheeky because they knew what was going to happen when you and Trent were alone.

“Ready to go?” Trent cooed, pressing his lips to yours. You smiled up at him. Lacing your hand with his. “C’mon, hmm?”

“Yes, please.” You giggled into his chest, coming for a hug before you went back to the hotel. You changed and Trent took you out dinner just the two of you before you returned for a very long fun night spent in bed with your fiancé.

You woke up in the morning to the winter sun splashing against the diamonds on your finger that rested on Trent’s tanned bare chest. You smiled up at Trent’s beautiful sleeping face. You scratched at the hair on his chin. He woke up slow but quickly pulled you flush against him in a strong tight cuddle.

“Let me goooo.” You groaned sarcastically, wiggling unsuccessfully trying to break away from him.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ sound in the word. “You agreed to this, stuck forever now innit?” He cooed with his lips, ghosting over your skin he was so close to you. You gave in and hugged him back. Rolling to be completely on top of him in a straddle. “Morning, soon to be Mrs. Alexander-Arnold” he spoke softly as you giggled, pressing your lips to his.

“You’re hard, T.” You giggled teasing him able to feel his growing cock underneath you. He just hummed holding you tighter. You didn’t say anything else. You stayed in his arms happy and in love. You fell back asleep on Trent’s chest though too tired from the events that occurred on just about every surface of the room last night. He stayed awake rubbing your back loving the feeling of your warmth on top of him, the smell of your hair, and your newly ring adorned finger laying on his chest.

Winnie came to bring Teddy back. She knocked a few times but you were out cold and Trent was in his own world of admiration. You had given her a key so she popped into the living room space. Trent practically jumped seeing her cross through the room. He shouldn’t have been surprised. This was exactly the time when she said she’d be here.

“Sorry, sorry. I would’ve gotten up.” Trent cooed sitting up further against the headboard to talk to Winnie. You sleepily groaned and readjusted your position on him but not fully waking.

“You’re fine. Fun night?” She laughed teasing Trent seeing your naked back laying on top of him with your arms wrapped around his equally bare torso.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll hear all about it.” Trent responded, brushing a piece of your hair that had fallen off your face. He was referring to you not being particularly the most tight lipped about your life in the bedroom with him. Sharing every dirty detail to your sister and Lauren. They new a lot*.

“Expecting a rave review?” She teased him some more, walking into the bedroom with Teddy in her arms.

“Have you ever heard otherwise?” He asked jokingly but also laced with a bit of seriousness because he had a moment of fear thinking that maybe you had complained about your sex life to them at one point.

“Well, here's your rave review.” Winnie rolled her eyes, handing him a smiley Teddy excited to see her dad. Her small giggles and grunts eager to get into Trent’s arms woke you up. Winnie headed out and you got up eventually. You say at a table in the room eating the room service breakfast Trent had ordered you with Teddy on your lap.

“By the way, baby, I got a necklace to put Ted’s ring on. I don’t want her to try to eat it.” He laughed grabbing a box before he came to sit down beside you two. He pulled out a plain gold necklace.

“Thank you daddy.” You giggled, pressing a kiss to Teddy’s cheek. He slid the ring he had gotten her on the chain and handed it to you. You clasped it around her neck. “Can you say thank you dada?” You cooed. She had no idea what was going on let alone being put on her but it was special to you anyways. Trent reached over the table and picked her up. He squished her tight to him, releasing one arm free to pull you into him. His arm tucking behind your head bringing your forehead to his lips.

“My girls forever.” He whispered against your skin.

“Alexander-Arnold girls is crazy…” you laughed leaning back in your chair. It was unbelievable to you that you’d all share the same surname.

“It’s perfect.” He kissed your forehead again. You began to get ready for the day. Everyone who was in town for the engagement was coming to a party at The Plaza this afternoon for brunch. You were attempting to do your makeup in the bathroom when you could hear Teddy crying away in the other room sitting with Trent. You came out half dressed to see what was going on. Trent was standing rocking back and forth cradling her trying to get her to calm down.

“I think maybe the jet lag is starting to catch up with her. She hasn’t been sleeping nearly enough since we got here.” You cooed, taking her out of Trent’s arms. She clung around your neck, continuing to cry. Her breath was short. She sniffled against your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Ted. I don’t know if I did something wrong or…” You watched Trent’s eyes sink as he looked from her to you. He felt horrible watching Teddy cry. “I tried everything, I swear. I don’t know how to help her.” Your heart broke a little watching his break. He rubbed his big hand over her back. His natural pout quivered. He rested his head onto her.

“It’s not your fault, T. She’s just tired. She’s okay. You’re okay, right baby?” You asked Teddy as her cries began to slow. Her shallow breaths starting to ease. “You’re such a good dad. Honest, you’re so good with her. She’s just a little sleepy, huh Teddy girl?” You cooed as she laid her cheek against your shoulder exhausted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but why does she calm when she’s with you though?” Trent looked at you defeated seeing Teddy settling in your arms. “I feel like I do everything I’m supposed to and it’s not enough. I’m starting to think maybe I’m away from her too much.” You could see his mind racing feeling so guilty for the amount of time he was away from home for football.

“T… come here.” You pulled him into you with one arm. You handed him Teddy with the other. She nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck. Her tiny palm spread on his chest as she clung to him. “You’re so good with her. You love her so much and she knows that, she can feel that. Think of how excited she is when she sees you. We’re together as much as we can be. When she’s a little older, we’ll try to travel more to be with you, yeah? She’s so calm with you as well. Baby, she constantly falls asleep on you. Trust me she loves being with her daddy.” You gestured to Teddy who was fast asleep, already passed out on him. He laughed and kissed her cheek.

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his free hand over his face. “Maybe, I’m jet lagged. Sorry, baby. You really think I’m good with her?” You nodded with a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. Also, while you’re out here, I know you already picked out your outfit for the brunch but I got you a little something.” He cooed.

“You what?” Your eyes widened as Trent turned to grab a bag from Bergdorf Goodman. The lilac purple bag made your mouth almost water. There wasn’t a store in the world you loved more.

“I mean… it’s ridiculous and I don’t understand it but I know you wanted it. Thought it’d be good for today. First bridal thing for you.” He handed you the bag and it made your eyes tear more at the sentiment but maybe just a little as you pulled out the most insane embellished MuiMui crop top. “I got these heels as well, the woman said you needed to have them so if you needed them I had to get them.” He laughed, giving you one more perfectly lilac bag.

“I love you.” You cooed with a big smile. “I already forgot what I was even wearing before.” You giggled coming to hold his waist.

“Love me…” he rolled his eyes. “You just love clothes…” he teased. “Now go get changed.” He slapped your ass. You pressed a kiss to Teddy’s cheek and giddily skipped back to the bathroom to get dressed to celebrate your engagement to the most amazing man.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 10 xx

[myrddin-wylt]

I’m very tired. you probably heard that Russia destroyed the Kakhovka Dam to slow Ukraine’s counter offensive. here’s something I didn’t quite realize: since this February, the Russians operated the dam in juuuuust the right way so that as much water would build up as possible when the snow melted and spring showers started. and then they blew the whole thing up.

40,000 people may need to be evacuated. I don’t really have the energy to say anything else right now.

Hospitallers Medical Battalion: actual angels can confirm. they’re combat-zone medical services - you know how humanitarian groups like MFS and Red Cross have to pause operations due to the Russians fucking shooting at humanitarian zones? yeah, these guys don’t pause for bullets, they fucking walk into them and they bring out anyone they can.

Serhiy Prytula Charity Foundation: you can choose from a number of various fundraiser projects here, if you’re feeling particularly picky. for those of you who balk at the idea of supporting anything military just please remember that things like vehicles and drones aren’t just for military use, they’re also for evacuation and finding the wounded and they’re fucking vital.

KSE Foundation: similar to the above, KSE has multiple projects you can choose from to donate to. looking at it right now, one of the projects with the lowest amounts of money raised thus far - despite being started in April - is Seeds for Ukraine, which will help Ukraine recover from the ecological devastation Russia has been wreaking (and with Ukraine, the countries that rely on Ukraine’s grain exports that Russia keeps trying to steal).

Come Back Alive: do these guys even need the introduction? they’re Come Back Alive. I’m kissing all of them.

United24: Zelenskyy’s brain child, and the official fundraising platform of Ukraine. Mark Hamill recommends the fundraisers for drones in particular.

UAnimals: Nova Kakhovka’s zoo got... pretty much completely swept away. all zoo residents except the birds have drowned. UAnimals has tried throughout the occupation to keep the animals safe, and they’ve been reporting on the status of the zoo. I don’t really know what to say except that I hope they’re able to save the pets and strays in the towns along the river.

You can find NGOs specific to evacuation efforts in this post; please signal boost it as well. I’ve listed them but am leaving the links for the op post.

Ukrainian FireFighters Foundation

Helping To Leave

VOSTOK SOS

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of physical abuse, and prolonged imprisonment.

You learn quickly that Nanami is significantly more bearable with he's playing house.

It should've been more obvious, in retrospect. If you hadn't been so terrified, so desperate not to fall into your captor's domestic delusions, you might've been more able to catch on more quickly, to realize how much softer he was when you treated him like a loving husband, rather than an obsessive stalker who had the nerve to roll his eyes when you asked if he had anything for you to wear that didn't involve bows and frills. You were slow on the uptake, but then again, he wasn't the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve.

His reactions weren't exactly more pronounced when your aggression started to fade, when you realized that he could barely take care of himself, let alone another person. You were skittish, eager to get in and out of the kitchen before he came home, and he was stoic, offering little more than a nod of his head and a muttered 'thank you' when he came home to find a bare-bones meal on the table or his constantly neglected apartment just a little cleaner. It took weeks for him to come to you directly; his suit jacket in one hand and spare button in the other. It should've only taken a minute to mend, but your hands shook so badly that it'd ended up taking ten. He watched over your shoulder all the while - smiling so softly, you'd been able to convince yourself that it was just your imagination.

You pretended that you didn't mind being with him, that the idea of being his stay-at-home hostage didn't make your skin crawl, and in exchange, he let you watch an hour of T.V. once a week, told you how your family and friends were dealing with your sudden disappearance. It wasn't a fair trade, but it was a trade - his domestic bliss for a handful of basic privileges, his happiness for the illusion of your freedom. When you can build up the courage, when you've recovered (or, recovered as much as you can, anyway) from the last time he bent you over his knee, you press for more. And sometimes, it works.

"I missed you," he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His strong arms are wrapped around your waist, his posture hunched to accommodate the disparity between your heights, and you can feel warm breath on your skin, his deep voice reverberating against your throat.

"Welcome home," you say, because he doesn't like it when you lie and 'I missed you too' might've been the most dishonest thing you could've said. "You should sit down. I just started on dinner, and--"

You pause, cursing under your breath. Nanami is tired enough or kind enough to take the bait. "Make me a list." He pulls you that much closer before straightening his back and kissing your cheek. "I'll run to the store. It's the least I could do, for the only person who manages to keep my head on my shoulders."

You let a second of silence lapse between you, then another. "You know," you manage, eventually, just as Nanami starts to detangle himself from you. "Most couples spend as much time together as they can."

You can practically hear his smile. "You want to go shopping with me?"

"...am I allowed to?"

"Of course." He says it like he hadn't kidnapped you. Like he hadn't kept you locked in his sterile apartment for the better part of a year. Like he hadn't taken you by the neck and promised he'd be the only man to ever touch you again every time you questioned his intentions.

There's another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. Just when you think your heart might beat out of your chest, he adds, "As soon as hell freezes over and curses go extinct, I'll take you wherever you want."

You might've cried, if you didn't know how much he loved wiping away your tears.

Sometimes, it works.

Most of the time, though, he chooses to remind you whose game you're playing.

[chaepink]

DAY 1: BITE ME, BABY | BLOOD KINK

midoriya gets his blood sucked by you, a vampire, and maybe enjoys it a little too much

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ PAIRING ⸻ izuku midoriya x vampire!reader

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WARNINGS ⸻ dom!reader, begging, blood kink, biting, dry humping, slight choking kink, finger sucking

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WORDS ⸻ 1.3k words

KINKTOBER EVENT

"Come on~ just a little taste, please?" You grin, flashing your sharp canine teeth at the shaking boy in front of you. Fear flashes in his eyes when he looks at your teeth, his eyes widening. He decides to quickly lower his head instead, avoiding eye contact and remaining unresponsive.

He wishes he hadn't wandered by himself into a seemingly unoccupied building in the middle of the woods at night just for a dare. If he didn't he wouldn't have been caught by you and pinned before he could do anything.

When he tried to escape by removing his hands from your grip and kicking you, he found out that you're much stronger than he was, having not even budged even when he used his quirk. The hand on his waist was seemingly innocent but now he know it was to keep him pinned against the wall.

You frown at his silence. This was turning out to be harder and taking longer than you thought. After ages of not being able to get any human blood, you're rather hungry and you're not sure how much longer you can last without any.

You lean forward slightly, your mouth near his ear as you whisper into it.

"Please? It probably won't even hurt." Well, you're not sure about that. "Plus-" you start, eyeing his pale neck that's right under, licking your lips. "Maybe it'll even feel pleasurable."

Midoriya shivers at the close proximity, squeezing his eyes shut. You can't see the look on his face but you can feel the heat starting to radiate off his face, making you grin. You can't help but give the top of his ear a small teasing bite, making his breath hitch, before leaning back to observe his face.

He's still looking at his feet and you give a small sigh, beginning to feel slightly bad for him.

"It probably won't even take that long-"

"O-Okay…"

You pause, having not heard what he quietly mumbled. You raise an eyebrow at him even though he's not even facing you "Hm? Say that again for me."

"i s-said okay, j-just..." Midoriya slowly looks up at you, a hint of fear still in his eyes. "Make it quick please...?"

You widen your eyes before laughing a little. "The sounded more like a question than a request. What convinced you, huh? The pleasurable part?" Midoriya blushes even more, shaking his head, trying to convince you otherwise.

"N-No…"

You're about to tease him but you notice him gulp, averting your attention back to his neck. Midoriya feels his heart beat faster at the way you're staring at his neck so intensely.

The hand that was pinning his hands goes trails down to his neck, wrapping around the back of it before giving the sides a small squeeze. You trust him to not run off and even if he did, you would be able to catch him pretty quickly.

"You have such a pretty neck, you know?" Midoriya tries to stutter out a response but the way one second you're still staring at his neck and the next second your teeth are hovering over his neck knocks the breath out of his lungs.

"Relax, it'll hurt more if you're tense." Midoriya unintentionally tenses even more at your words as a response so the hand on his side goes to squeeze his waist, signaling him to calm down.

"Besides, you won't turn into a vampire like I am. Well, only if you want me to turn you into one, of course," you joke. And before Midoriya can ask you what you mean by that, you sink your teeth into his soft flesh.

Midoriya lets out a gasp but it quickly turns into a small whine as he feels a sharp pain in his neck where you bite him. His hands quickly latch onto your shoulders for support, squeezing them tightly.

He feels his neck tingle, both from your bite and from the way one of your hands is gently squeezing his neck from time to time.

Ironically, he feels blood rush down to his lower parts as his breath turns ragged. It doesn't hurt a lot, it just feels… unusual. He won't admit it but it feels rather pleasurable in a way. Midoriya has to bite his lip to silence his noises.

It would be embarrassing if you found out that he got hard from you, a vampire, sucking his blood.

He feels your thigh against his tent but with his back flat against a wall already, he has to pray that you just don't feel or notice it anytime soon.

While sucking his neck, you feel something against your thigh and with interest, you decide to slightly push against it to find out what it is.

"ah ah s-stop"

You pause and decide to take your teeth out of his neck for a moment, quickly looking at the tent in his pants. You grin as you begin licking at the red bite mark, soothing it.

"My my my, it seems like someone got hard from a vampire biting their neck~"

Midoriya squeezes his eyes shut as he shakes his head but his flushed face gives it away.

"I'm not I-I swear it's just- ah!"

You push your thigh against his bulge again, laughing when Izuku lets out another noise.

"ah, but you are. What else would be this tent in your pants?" You press harder as Izuku continues to let out a whimper.

"I'm not done with you yet so go on and hump my thigh if you want. Don't think about silencing those cute noises you're letting out though, i quite like them."

You bite into Midoriya's neck again as he lets out a mewl. You feel him hesitantly grind on your thigh as you nibble on his neck. Though the slow grinds turn into hurried ones as he chases his orgasm.

It isn't long before he babbles out pleas and begs for you to let him cum. With your teeth still in his neck, you instead help him hump your thigh, quickening the pace.

Less than a minute later he's throwing his head back, a moan leaving his mouth as you squeeze his neck. You feel your thigh where he humped on slightly damp. Seconds later you release your fangs from his neck. Whilst looking at him, you teasingly lick your teeth, savoring the taste of his blood on them.

"Sweet." Midoriya blushes at your teasing and looks away from you.

"A-Are you done?" He looks at your with slightly hooded eyes and ragged breath. Instead of answering him, you notice a bead of blood on the second bite mark and scoop it up on your thumb.

"Look at me." Like an obedient puppy, he does what you told him to and looks at you, widening his eyes when you grab his chin and place your thumb on his bottom lip, pulling on it slightly.

Without needing further instructions, he slowly opens his mouth wide enough for you to slide your thumb inside. Hesitantly, he begins sucking on it, letting out a whimper when the metallic taste of blood hits his taste buds.

You watch in awe as your thumb gets coated in his saliva, feeling his tongue touching it. You pull it out and Midoriya can't help but whine at the loss of contact.

You back away slightly to give him space and grin at him, once again flashing your fangs but this time Midoriya doesn't flinch. Instead, he feels himself get embarrassingly hard again, a weird fluttering feeling appearing in his stomach alongside it.

"What's your name, anyway?"

"M-Midoriya."

Your grin becomes wider. "Well, then Midoriya. I hope we meet again soon and I wouldn't mind if today's experience repeats itself."

And before he could ask for your name, you're out the window and when he runs to it to see where you've gone, he doesn't see you anywhere.

So with a tent in his pants and two suspicious fang marks on his neck, all he can he is walk back to his friends as he prays he can somehow meet you again.

🏷️ : @vealize21 @fabitheraven @sourissue @jksstuffposts @gallantys @tired-of-life-86 @ineedsleeporilldie @aphoneixnamed-angel @flawlessvictorymentality @wowonamo @laraleafs @vampcubus @22rhianna2006 @cl-0-vr @katebaku7710 @yenakwyl @euphiroo @saintravey @tomiokx

[fluentmoviequoter]

Falling Slowly

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: You are Tim's newest rookie, and his favorite. He treats you differently, able to see that your past affects you, and the little things build up until you can't deny your feelings.

Warnings: so much fluff, brief angst, domestic violence (Tim and reader respond to a call & allusions to past dv against reader), one scene is inspired by "The Switch" (1x4)

Word Count: 4.0k+ words

A/N: This doesn't really fit in any specific season, so I put characters in the roles I wanted them to have and just made up some names to fill in the gaps. Hopefully everything makes sense. Please let me know what you think!

Picture from Pinterest

“What are you doing here?” Angela asks, surprised to see Tim.

Furrowing his brows, Tim answers, “I’m here for the TO meeting.”

Angela tilts her head back and groans, passing Nyla a 10-dollar bill.

“She thought you’d give up your position for Metro,” Nyla explains.

“I’d like to, someday, but not today,” Tim replies.

“20 bucks this is his last one,” Angela says to Nyla. “He still has the open invite to Metro and his patience can’t take many more boots.”

Nyla reaches to shake Angela’s hand as Tim rolls his eyes and walks away.

“Let me see his rookie first, then we’ll talk,” Nyla decides. “I’ve got a feeling a lot is going to change around here.”

“Like what?” Angela asks. “Nyla! Like what?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station on your first day as a rookie is both nerve-wracking and exciting. You’ve heard stories about boots making it through the academy to fail once they reach this level, but you’re determined. When you were a kid, you were in bad situations more often than any child should be, but kind police officers changed your life, and you’d like to do the same.

Waving to one of your police academy friends, you sit in the bullpen, waiting impatiently to learn which officer behind you will be your training officer. Getting the perfect training officer is up to fate, based on what you’ve heard, and your TO can make or break your career.

“Good morning, boots! I am Watch Commander Wade Grey. You have made it through the police academy, but don’t expect a pat on the back, your work is just beginning. This is the time to prove yourself, to show your TO, me, and this city why you deserve to be a police officer.” He pauses, moving around the podium to add, “If you should be a police officer.”

As you listen intently, striving to remember every word Sergeant Grey says, two detectives stand at the back of the room and evaluate the rookies.

“He’s only got one shot,” Angela mutters.

“If he gets the pretty one in the front, I’m not taking the bet,” Nyla says.

Angela looks up a row, her brows raising when she sees you. “If he ends up with her, we’re starting a station-wide pool and getting rich,” she adds.

“Now, it’s time to be assigned to your judge, jury, and executioner,” Wade says with a smile. “Or, as we call them, TOs. Our former rookie turned TO, Nolan: you’ve got Edward Henderson.

 Officer Nolan nods at Henderson, and you remember his story: a late-life rookie who got a golden ticket. Part of you wants to work with him and learn why he decided on law enforcement, but you only nod at Henderson before turning back around.

“Lance Vincent, you are with our newest TO, Eliza Reagan.”

Wade says your name with a smile that seems a bit more genuine than before. “Officer Bradford, last but not least,” he says as he assigns you your new TO.

You look over your shoulder, a small smile on your face as he nods at you. He is undeniably attractive, and you hope it doesn’t cause any problems.

“Oh, he’s a goner,” Nyla whispers under her breath when you smile at Tim.

“Should we tell him?” Angela replies.

“I think we’ll have to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Something about you bothers Tim. Not in the usual, grumpy-with-a-new-boot way, but he has a sense that you’re different. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, walking to Tim at the back of the bullpen.

He stands, offering a calloused hand to shake.

“I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy or fun,” he tells you. “Being a rookie is the hardest part of your career, but if you’re a good cop under the uniform, you’ll be fine.”

Nodding, you promise to do your best and express your willingness to learn everything you can from him.

“Good,” he says. “Meet me outside the war room. We’re not wasting any time, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

Tim watches you walk away, and when you stop to let someone carrying a large box cross in front of you, Tim realizes that you’re hurting, or were hurting not long ago. The underlying need to help people is something he recognizes.

“She’s pretty,” Angela muses, walking to Tim’s side.

“Though you know that,” Nyla adds, smiling on his other side.

“She’s a boot. No different than the other rookies,” Tim argues, though his gaze is still on your back as you sign for your bags and weapons.

“Sure, she is. Why don’t you go put her through a Tim test?” Angela suggests.

Tim rolls his eyes as he leaves, wondering what hurt you bad enough to make you want to be a cop. He became a cop despite his hurt, but you’re young and bright – and too good for him – so there must be something in you that makes you worthy of this. More worthy (and more beautiful) than any rookie before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Several officers wish you luck, with one or two warning you about so-called “Tim Tests” while you wait for Tim behind the shop.

“Don’t tell me you have a checklist,” Tim begins, drawing your attention away from the shop tires.

“No, sir,” you answer. “Just being vigilant, I suppose. I’d hate to start my first day with a flat tire.”

Tim nods, asking where the war bags are. You tell him how you checked the contents and loaded them into the trunk, and he appreciates your brief explanation.

“Good work. The easy part is over,” Tim says. He seems to weigh his options before deciding, “You drive. Show me what you’ve got.”

He follows you to the driver’s side door, opening it as he reminds you of standard shop procedures. As Tim closes the door, you wonder if he’s a gentleman or if he followed you because he doesn’t trust you to drive correctly. Either way, you know what you’re doing, and you won’t let the man in the passenger seat distract you… too much.

Driving toward Wilshire Boulevard for patrol, Tim looks out the window. 

“Blue Camaro has an expired plate,” you alert.

“Call it in.”

You do so, hitting the sirens as you engage the traffic stop. Tim raises a hand to stop you from getting out.

“Remember your training. Don’t let the situation get away from you.”

His words linger in your mind, and you complete the stop with no problem, issuing a ticket and returning to the shop.

“I’m driving,” Tim alerts you, spreading his hand across the small of your back as he directs you to the sidewalk.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask when he starts the car.

“No,” he answers bluntly.

You lick your lips nervously, turning your attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, Tim pulls over and hits the brakes.

“I’ve been shot, boot. Where are we?” Tim demands.

Furrowing your brows in surprise at his actions, you answer, “Intersection of 12th and Meadowbrook, west of Redondo. There are several hospitals in a five-mile radius, but only one has a trauma center.”

Tim pulls out wordlessly, continuing his patrol route. Tim doesn't say much else throughout the few hours between his first test and lunch. He lets you point things out, answers your questions about the area and procedures, and glances at you out of the corner of his eye. When he pulls up to a small circle of food trucks where several police officers are waiting, he turns toward you.

“You’re doing well. I’m not neglecting to give you good feedback for any reason other than once you start riding alone, you won’t get it. My role here is to prepare you for your solo career, not hold your hand until you get there.”

“I understand, sir. Thank you for answering my questions,” you reply as you open the door.

Tim’s hand finds your upper back as he leads you to his favorite of the food trucks, a light touch that disappears nearly as quickly as it happened. You thank him quietly for the suggestion before sitting with your fellow rookies.

“Hi, Tim,” Angela says.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his annoyance breaking through his growing fondness for you.

“Just came to get some food. Your boot seems to be in a good mood.”

“Strange, I thought Tim’s thing was ‘break their spirits in the first hour,’” Nyla adds as she joins Angela.

“You two not have work to do or something?” Tim inquires.

“Something like that. How’s she doing?” Angela tips her chin toward you as she asks.

“She’s got good instincts, knows protocols.”

“But?”

Tim shrugs, turning away before Angela can dig deeper.

“I give it a week,” Nyla announces.

“Before what?”

“He can’t take it anymore.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Domestic disturbance in your area,” dispatch alerts.

Tim grabs the radio, accepting the call as he hits the sirens and turns into a residential area. You chew the inside of your bottom lip; domestic calls are your least favorite, especially when kids are involved. Unwilling to show discomfort, you put on your best brave cop face and follow Tim to the door.

A young girl with a bloody nose and teary eyes opens it, and you glance at Tim before kneeling and asking her to come outside. She listens without question, her lower lip wobbling as you smile.

“He’s hurting my mom,” she whimpers.

Tim nods at you before tilting his head toward the shop. You direct the girl to stand at the edge of the porch and wait for you as you follow Tim inside.

“LAPD, put your hands up!” Tim yells as he steps into a bedroom.

Your eyes widen when you see the large man towering over the girl’s mother. He smiles as he reaches for something.

“Don’t move unless you want to give me a reason,” Tim says lowly. “Step away.”

The man looks toward the nightstand before taking a deep breath and giving up. 

“I got it,” Tim tells you before radioing a code 4.

You wait until Tim has the handcuffs secured to walk outside. The girl runs into your arms, and you pop the shop's trunk, setting her down as you retrieve a small first aid kit. She lets you clean her bloody nose, gripping your wrist when it stings.

“Where’s my mom?” she asks.

“She’s talking to my partner right now, she’ll be out in a few minutes,” you explain.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you answer.

“Mom!” she yells, letting you set her on the ground before she runs to her mom’s side.

“Get in the shop,” Tim commands as he walks past, his hand brushing your arm as he closes the trunk.

You obey, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting as he talks to the EMTs. When he joins you, he drives to a quiet, empty street before switching off his body cam and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer than you’ve heard.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say what I want to hear. Domestic calls are tough but that wasn’t your first one, was it?”

You shake your head, looking out the windshield instead of at Tim.

“We all have reasons for becoming a cop, and some calls are harder than others. As long as your past doesn’t get in the way and put you in danger, it’s okay to be human,” he continues. “TOs are notoriously hard on you, but we’re also here for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Tim shrugs, one corner of his lips upturned. “No more sappy stuff, we have work to do.”

“Oh, if you think that was sappy, I’ve got a lot to show you before I graduate to short sleeves.”

The comment catches Tim off guard and makes him feel something he didn’t expect.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the first week, you feel like you know Tim well. His hand spread across your back or shoulder when you’re in front of him, his little reminders that you’re not alone, that you can show emotion when the time allows, and every other little thing he does makes you wonder why there are so many horror stories around his teaching style.

Likewise, Tim thinks he has you down. You ask him questions, ask for his opinions, listen and apply what he says, and send him small smiles when he compliments your work.

But, it only takes a shift to realize that people are multi-faceted, and cops and rookies are no different.

“Good morning,” you greet, passing Tim a small box.

“What is this? A bribe?” he asks.

You smile as you reply, “Nope. Just something I found, and I thought you’d like.”

Tim opens the box, his eyes widening at the 2000 Super Bowl tickets, the Rams’ first win. “I can’t accept these.”

“They were under a bookshelf in my apartment, it’s not like I spent a million dollars on them, Officer Bradford.”

Tucking them into his pocket, Tim opens your door. “Thank you.”

You smile, and Tim thinks your joy is the better gift.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your first call of that day, you show Tim that you don’t just value his opinions.

“Shots fired!” you radio as you duck behind the car.

“Are you hit?” Tim asks.

Shaking your head, you move closer, trusting him to direct you and keep you safe. The men in the house you were called to have automatic weapons, and though you’re a good shot, you’re not a match for their guns alone.

“Backup is on the way, but I need you to do something for me. You trust me?” Tim adds.

“I do.”

“Reach around the back and open the trunk; just far enough to reach the latch. I’ll cover you.”

He stands above you, firing into the shattered window of the house as you slip your arm and back around the end of the shop and open the trunk.

“Good, perfect,” Tim praises as he ducks beside you. His knuckles graze yours as he leans past you. “Can you reach the shotguns?”

Glancing in the window above you, you locate them quickly. “I can.”

“Do it. I got you.”

Once the shotguns are in your hands, you pass one to Tim as you ready your own. Timing your shots, you take out two shooters just as your backup arrives.

“You’re bleeding,” Tim says, his adrenaline dropping as a tactical team takes over.

You look at your arm, just noticing your ripped sleeve and bloody skin. Tim lays his hands on your arm as he turns it toward him.

“I think it was just glass from the windshield,” you say quietly, pointing to the car behind you, riddled with bullet holes and broken glass.

“Either way, we need to get it checked out.”

“Officer Bradford?” you interject. “Thank you. For making sure I trust you.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he mutters, so soft you can barely hear it.

He taps the Super Bowl tickets in his pocket as he rises to get a paramedic to check on you, and you smile, wondering how bad it would be if you fell in love with your TO.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tim points out. “I need to know that whatever is bothering you won’t impair your ability to work with me.”

“It won’t,” you promise. “Sorry.”

Tim considers pressing, but he trusts you. “I’m here. If you decide you want to talk about it.”

He exits the shop and opens your door before you can reach for the handle.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Did you see that?” Nyla gushes, elbowing Angela.

“Ow. See what?”

Nyla points to Tim, closing your door and laying a hand on your shoulder as he ducks his head to talk to you.

“That’s not a reprimand,” Angela deduces.

When you smile, a tiny upturning of your lips, Nyla laughs.

“Oh, that boy… The door, the touches, listening to her? He’s gone.”

“Not just him,” Angela adds. “She asks him questions, smiles at him, trusts him more than anyone… and the Super Bowl tickets? They’re adorable.”

“Should we do something?”

“Not yet. I think they’re close to realizing.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your longest, and worst, day yet, you find yourself in a hospital waiting room beside Tim. He hasn't said anything since a speeding driver ran into your side of the shop, though you've apologized countless times (even though there's nothing you could have done).

Tim’s jaw is clenched so tight you’re worried it will snap. You’re sitting close to him, a bandage around your wrist and an ice pack pressed to your cheek.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Stop- stop apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Tim sighs.

His arm is on the armrest between you, and you move your hand toward his. When he doesn’t back away, you turn your arm to allow your knuckles to brush against his.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him kindly. “He ran a red light.”

“And you could’ve been killed,” Tim replies, standing abruptly and walking away.

You slump in your seat, dejected and curious about what you could say to make him stop blaming himself for someone running into you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim and his rookie sitting in a tree,” Nyla sings under her breath.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Tim replies.

“Right, because you’re too busy being mad that she got hurt. Cops get hurt Tim,” Angela reminds him.

“Not with me,” he begins, pausing to take a deep breath. “Despite what you think, I’m upset that she got hurt, not because I’m in love with her.”

“Whatever you got to hear, buddy,” Nyla replies. “But tell me this. If it was Nolan when he was a boot, would you have felt this bad? Even if I believed you didn’t have feelings for her, which I don’t, you’re different with her and you know it.”

Tim sighs, looking out the door at you. He knows it’s true; despite his constant denial, he does treat you differently because you are different, and you’re like a magnet, incapable of being ignored or forgotten. Finally confessing it to himself, Tim knows that his feelings for you will get one or both of you in trouble unless something changes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It is time for The Switch,” Wade says as he walks into the bullpen. “The day you ride with a new TO.”

You glance at Tim, who gives you an encouraging nod. He tells you that you’re a great rookie, but he also tells you that you’re pretty sometimes, which doesn’t seem pertinent (or always true, in your eyes). Wade says your name, and you look up.

“You’re with Nolan,” he tells you.

Smiling at Nolan, you cross your fingers under the desk that it’s a good day. 

“Henderson,” you call as he stands up, “what’s Nolan like?”

“He’s great. Really understanding and knowledgeable. A little talkative, but fairly easy going. Just stick to protocol and listen to his directions; you’ll be fine.”

“What about Bradford?” Vincent asks you. “Everyone says he’s the toughest. Anything I should be aware of?”

“I don’t think so. He’s quiet sometimes, but he’s great.”

You collect your war bag with the expectation of a good day. You will miss Tim, but learning how another TO teaches and his views can be invaluable. As you slide into the driver’s seat beside Nolan, you realize something: you like Tim as more than your TO. He means more to you than just being your teacher, your mentor, and a trustworthy officer. The thought hits you so suddenly you're not sure where it came from.

With each passing moment, you find yourself remembering something Tim said or wanting to tell him something, but he isn’t there. Nolan is kind and laughs at your muttered comments, but it is nothing like riding with Tim. As you think about all the little things Tim does, everything begins to make sense.

Someone yells your name when you step out of the shop to get lunch. Turning, you’re surprised to see Vincent storming up to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.

“Tell you what?”

“That Bradford has ‘Tim Tests’ and nothing pleases him!”

You glance over his shoulder, finding Tim and Nolan talking. Tim glances over at you, and the tension in his shoulders seems to ease until Nolan says something else.

“His Tim Tests aren’t that bad; he’s just teaching you awareness and safety.”

“He wants to end my career,” Vincent exclaims before muttering something about you not understanding as he walks away.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s Vincent doing?” Nolan asks.

“That kid has no situational awareness,” Tim answers. “I stopped at a street sign, and he couldn’t figure out where we were.”

“He’s probably scared of you,” Nyla interjects. “And, no, Bradford, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“My rookie can tell me where I am, no matter what,” Tim adds.

“Your rookie is very good, I’ll give you that,” Nolan replies. “But Vincent has potential. Besides, your boot has people problems.”

Tim glances over at you, locking eyes with you while Vincent talks to you dramatically.

“So do I, but I’m still a good cop.”

Nyla watches as both you and Tim sigh before abandoning the conversations you’re in. She shakes her head, calculating her winnings if the betting pool goes her way.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking out of the locker room at the end of the day, you’re surprised to be called into Sergeant Grey’s office. You sit across from him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt to spend your nervous energy.

“You are being assigned to a new TO. Officer Bradford has decided to hand you off to someone better equipped to teach you,” Grey informs. “But you’re not in trouble.”

You still your hands in your lap. “Okay. Effective when?”

“Monday morning. So, rest up.”

As you stand, Grey says your name, smiling as he repeats, “You’re not in trouble. This was Bradford’s decision, nothing to do with you. Well, nothing to do with you as a rookie.”

You purse your lips at his phrasing, and he chuckles before sending you out. Walking through the parking lot, you see Tim’s truck is still there and decide to ask him what happened. Standing by the tailgate, you chew your bottom lip as you wait, nervous that you did something, though Wade assured you differently.

Tim walks up unnoticed, saying your name to get your attention.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask, jumping straight to your questions. “I can fix it; there has to be a way to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Tim promises. “I just can’t be your TO anymore.”

“Why not?”

Tim shifts his backpack on his shoulder. “It’s not appropriate.”

Your heart drops. Tim knows you have feelings for him, and it makes him uncomfortable; that’s the only explanation. Nodding slowly, you accept your fate.

“And I can’t do this,” Tim adds.

His hands slide onto your jaw, his palms against your cheeks as his fingers settle behind your ears, pulling you into a quick kiss. You only begin to respond when he pulls back.

“You’re the best boot I’ve ever had,” he whispers, brushing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m not your boot anymore,” you remind him.

“That’s your fault. Those little gifts, and soft smiles, and how well you listen… You make it impossible not to fall for you.”

You laugh, leaning against his hands as you reply, “You do too. How do you think I felt when you called me pretty or touched my back? Then you kept comforting me and inviting me to talk. It was too easy.”

“Go to dinner with me?” he asks.

You nod, smiling against his hands before he moves to touch your back again, opening the passenger door as he helps you in. Tim slips his hand into yours, kissing your knuckles as he keeps you close.

✯✯✯✯✯

When the rest of the rookies leave the station, noticing that your car is still there, they ask each other if anyone has seen you.

“Bradford’s truck is gone,” Nyla notices as she walks out.

“Looks like we won,” Angela cheers.

“Where’s Bradford?” Vincent asks.

“On a date,” Nyla answers. “With his former boot.”

The rookies’ jaws drop, wondering how you managed to pull Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Don’t expect the same to happen to you,” Angela says as she passes the rookies. “We all worked for this one.”

[readychilledwine]

Slow Hands

Azriel x Vanserra Oc

Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.

Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.

Word count- 2,639

Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.

Part Two

Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.

The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"

Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."

Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.

"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.

Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"

"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.

All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."

He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."

Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.

Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?

You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.

She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.

He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.

"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.

Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"

"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.

Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.

"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.

Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.

She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."

Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."

"I can sto-"

"Please, do not stop."

Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.

"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"

Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.

Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.

Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."

"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.

"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.

Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"

"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."

His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.

Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.

Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.

Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.

"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.

Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.

Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.

He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."

Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.

She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.

A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.

"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.

She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.

He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.

She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.

It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.

Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.

She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.

"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."

Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.

"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."

He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.

"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."

Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."

Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."

[undercoverpena]

9. breath of fresh air

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter nine of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.3k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is called jo kicked her feet mid-writing and editing.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Baby, where are you?

I’m coming now just needed to get some plants.

If you’re the forest on wheels coming towards me line up somewhere else.

Wow, that's mean, Morales.

I am. But also, that’s a fuck load of plants.

It is and we’re going to have so much fun naming them.

Surrounded by unopened boxes, and paint tins that are due to be put on the wall, you both sit cross-legged on the floor of your soon-to-be office floor.

It's hard to stop it, the smile which spreads across your lips. The scent of fast food flows from your ripped-open bag and his neatly opened one, as you watch him turn his cap backwards and dig a hand into the paper bag as he pulls out a sauce pot.

Of course, he still finds a second to glare at the plant behind you.

“It’s up for debate, but french fries might be the way to my soul.”

Dipping his own into the sauce, he smirks. “What’s the other contender?”

You, you think.

It's there, threaded inside of you. Sewn in now. Stitched so deep into you that he’ll be remembered forever, no matter what.

Meeting his eyes mid-chew, the word you reverbing around your skull. Echoing. Practically marking itself against any surface space it can in there.

“Your mouth.”

Choking, his hand is quick to cover his mouth, eyes alarmed, quickly filling with tears as he continues to hack. Sliding his drink towards him, across the floor of the project that brought him here today.

“You can’t…” he begins, taking another mouthful, “Do that to me.”

Smirking, you grab another handful of fries. “From the gleam in your eyes, I say you like it.”

“I am not gleaming.”

“No? Damn, I’m disappointed.”

Rolling his eyes, he nudges you with his foot—your eyes glancing at the dinosaur-covered socks for the twelfth time since he’s been here.

“Luca has good taste in socks.”

“You’re telling me,” he replies, “I also have Batman ones, some cartoon ones and ones with flowers on.”

Smiling, you continue to chew. “Which ones are your favourite.”

Scrunching up the paper your food came in, you throw it into the bag. Watching him take a final bite of his own as you smirk.

“It’s the flower ones, isn’t it?”

“Definitely the flower ones.”

Laughing, tongue peeking between your teeth, you lean back on your hands, legs outstretched. “Saving them for a special occasion?”

Nodding, he takes another slurp of his drink, feeling his eyes drag up and down your legs. “Thought I could wear them for when I woo you later on this week.”

“Yeah? You want to model your socks for me, Morales.”

“Dinner and a show I heard is the perfect date night.”

Wiping his hands on his napkin, he stares at you—clean hand on your ankle, massaging it.

“You keep doing that, and we won’t be building furniture.”

Groaning, he sighs. All deep, layered with confliction—until he whispers it: after. It’s low, practically dragged through the gravel of his voice by the time it reaches your ear. Heat spreading through your stomach, not able to tear your eyes from him, just thankful that he does when he goes to stand.

A moment of reprieve, a chance to collect yourself.

That is, until he stretches out his hand, sliding yours into it as he pulls you up to stand. For a moment, just paused—staring at him, a tuft of curls poking through under the rim of his hat.

“I told you how handsome you are,” you say, arms sliding around his neck, leaning close—just enough, to press your mouth to his. “Cause you are.”

Biting the edge of his lip, he smirks. “I’ve got a utility knife in my pocket.”

“Oh?”

Brows lifting, grinning, Frankie pulls you closer. “You into that?”

“On you? Fuck yeah.”

Your lips glide over his, tasting the salt from his fries and the onion from his burger. Not caring, not as you hold him close, keeping him flush, deepening it until he clutches your jaw, walking you both back, kicking a box.

“Fuck.”

Almost laughing, you smirk. “We should…”

Tongue swiping over his lip, Frankie nods. Gaze unmoving even as you step back, bending to tidy the wrappers and bags as you glance back periodically.

“What?”

Shaking his head, he shrugs one shoulder, eyes widening as he smiles. “Nothing. Jus’… hurry back.”

It leaves your lips breathlessly, the word sure. It flows through the air to him, before you leave the room, before giddiness swallows and smothers you up. A grin not easily wiped by your knee connecting with the cabinet as you skid into the kitchen. Dousing your hands in cold water, hoping the temperature will touch your cheeks and cool them.

Thinking of him waiting near the checkout—broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his worn

You do. Almost skidding in your kitchen when you throw the trash away, pausing at the sink to wash your hands, before you’re casually walking back. Doing so, just in time to see him slide that knife along the flat-pack furniture, unboxing the drawers—staring at them all crouched wearing a furrowed expression with an IKEA pencil behind his ear.

And you’re glad he doesn’t look up at the doorway, because it gives you a minute, to lean, head resting as your heart skips a step, feeling all large and full and full of happiness. A feeling, one surging up inside of you—full of lightness and truth—swirling around your breath and trying to form into words.

But, then he looks at you. Lifts his chin, the biggest brown eyes smoothing out to look at you—and you’re sure the words are going to rip out of your throat. Forced to greet the air, and burn themselves into it.

I really like you, Frankie.

I really, really do.

Each letter swallowed back, sight dropping to the knife he holds back—an act you’re apparently quite into from the way you feel the heat in your stomach, a little ripple of want starting to stir as you slowly edge your way into the room. Listening, hanging onto his words as he offers suggestions of how the two of you can do this.

It’s why it makes sense, at first, when he asks if you’d begin building the drawers while he begins the carcass. His toolbox he’d brought in with him opening, pulling various tools you’re not sure were listed on the instructions.

It continues to make sense until you realise you began constructing the drawer, incorrectly. A disappointed voice ebbing, beginning to nip. It breeds in doubt as you study the paper again, and again. Mouth opening and promptly shutting as you try to make heads or tails of what should be a very easy thing.

But that means confessing you’re about as hopeless at building as you are at the rest of the DIY project.

Peering at the instructions again, you try not to sigh. Try not to let a heavier exhale escape through your nostrils, and possibly showcase your growing anxiety-brewed annoyance.

Because you hope he’s not having you build drawers because it’s easier. Because he views you as this hopeless thing that can’t be taught. Even if, in some ways, that assumption would be correct. You just hope that it isn’t pity or any other negative connotation that has begun popping into your mind and bursting behind your eyes in sorrowful falling dark-hued confetti.

An increasing need to prove yourself rising, flooding you as though it wishes to drown you. Making it hard to swallow, never mind breathe—eyes glancing down as they begin to burn with worry, with annoyance and a lot of other emotions you’re struggling to handle—

“Hey,” he says, soothing—hand cupping your cheek as you're tilted up from diagrams to his eyes.

The ones that soothe, that calm—that feel like a safe place.

“Hi.”

Slowly smiling, he strokes your skin. A thing you’re not sure you’ll ever tire from. Not ever. Not as long as his eyes remain as kind and full of warmth.

“I was calling out for you.”

“I’m so—“

“Wondered,” he continues, interrupting, burying your apology before it meets land and plants itself, “If you wanted a go at helping me build this bit.”

Swallowing, both the emotions that remain fizzing and the worries, you smile. “You sure? I’m not… this isn’t something I’m good at.”

“That’s why I’m helping. To teach you, right?”

Nodding, you grin when his lips find your forehead, helping you up before grabbing something from his toolbox. If newer, shinier than the one you’d seen him using—a colour as close to the one you’d said was your favourite.

“Did you buy me a tool, Butterscotch?”

Scratching the back of his head, he tries not to blush. A thing you can tell from the way he averts his eyes, and pink creeps up his neck. “Yeah, it was nothing. Just thought it be easier for you to have your own.”

“My own… prodding device?”

Shaking his head, his eyes land on you. “It’s an electric screwdriver.”

“Of course it is, I was testing you.”

Snorting, he grabs a piece of wood, bringing it between the two of you. “I almost believe you.”

You think Harry would hire me even if I know absolutely nothing about hardware or tools?

To annoy me, most probably. You doing okay?

Not really.

They want more tweaks?

Yeah. I don’t mind making the changes, but wish they’d been more clear from the beginning. So I don’t feel like a failure.

You want me to call in half an hour? Can try and make you smile.

You make me smile effortlessly. But no, it’s okay. I’m going to enjoy a shower and have an early night. Sleep off my bad mood and rest my muscles from building all that furniture the other day.

You goof.

A goof who has your toolbox and her own electric tightener.

That will sound so wrong to anyone else.

Especially if I tell them it goes with my bedside power tools.

Are they what I think they are?

Maybe.

Fuck. Put thoughts in my head now.

Do I look hot?

Always. Will you message me in the morning?

Of course, baby. Try not to dream of me.

Impossible, baby.

Just got out of the movies, was able to eat half the popcorn tub before a jump scare made it mysteriously land on the floor.

Do butter-caked fingers have anything to do with it?

No. I believe the leading cause was a mean friend picking a movie that they knew would scare me. The jury is still out on whether I could have saved the popcorn if properly notified of the jump scares.

You both have fun though?

Yes, a lot. Even if I won’t sleep for a week. I’m excited to see you tomorrow. I’ve missed you.

You’ve missed me?

Try not to grin too much, Morales.

Too late for that, Rainy. I've missed you too.

I've missed butter-SCOTCH fingers.

Can tell me how much later, if you want?

Do you want to phone sex with me, Morales? I think I'd rather make you wait till tomorrow when I see you.

Now who's mean.

It’s hard to avoid the smile on your face, even in the fogged-up mirror. Water dripping down your neck, collecting in the towel wrapped around your chest as Frankie presses his lips to your hairline.

“You feelin' clean, baby?”

“I don't think what we just did in your shower could constitute as cleaning, Butterscotch.”

Smirking, skin radiating heat, Frankie tips your chin up, mouth sliding back over yours like he had done when the two of you had stepped under the shower. The intention innocent, until hungry eyes raked over bare skin.

"Robe's on the back of my bedroom door, baby," he whispers, leaving you to finish drying in his bathroom.

As though it’s normal, routine.

Your toothbrush beside his—the products you’d packed in your overnight bag on the side of the counter.

It's a thing that makes your teeth bite down on your lip and your fingers retraced the path he drew against the suds on your skin. Thinking about how the water fell down along his jaw, ran down between your bodies as he hiked your leg up—

You jump when a clatter pulls you to the present. Heart fluttering, body resting against the side of the basin as your breath dances with the steam. Even if he's rooms away, you hear him singing.

It travelling, calling to you.

A soundtrack to you re-dressing as you hang the used towel on the hook, sliding some clean clothes on, before padding out to wrap the robe around you and grab his t-shirt from the bed.

With each step to the kitchen, you're aware of how your body smells of his body wash. A scent you wish your skin only ever smells like now, if it can’t be his aftershave. Just so you could have a piece of him, a thing to go with the texts, phone calls and video chats when the two of you find moments in between the busy.

There's no need for that tonight, not as he’s cooking for you.

Shoulder resting against the door, you find yourself not wanting to announce your arrival. Just take in his frame, how his back is to you, allowing you to watch how his muscles flex along his bare back as he grabs a knife from a drawer.

“You know, if you posted this kind of video on your Instagram, I think you'd beat that one where you're showing people how to paint wood."

Glancing over his shoulder, you hold the top up. His face shifts into gratitude as he drops what's in his hand and takes it from you. Simple, a very nothing thing that his face seems to show the opposite of.

He fidgets uncomfortably, the shyest smile trying to appear. “Shut up.” 

“While you were very informative about preparing the wood before beginning in that video, I think I know how you got one hundred thousand views in a weekend.” 

Smirking, he folds his arms. “Because you watched it on repeat while you missed me?”

“No,” you grin, watching him run his tongue over his teeth to stop himself from smirking. “You like to do a little thot-shot.”

“A what-what?” 

Licking your lips, leaning against the wall, watching his fingers run up and down his bicep, arms still folded. “You wipe your face with the bottom of your t-shirt, Morales. Showing off your… physique.” 

“Mierda.” 

“You look very good. Had to watch it myself a few times, to be sure.”

His eyes dart away, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I mean it,” you add. “You look really good, Frankie.” 

Stepping forward, you kiss his cheek. The heat from it warms your lips as you try to hide your grin. Instead, pulling out a stool from under his island and sliding onto it, elbow on the worktop, you rest your chin. Watching him turn, facing back to the ingredients and pans.

That's when you spot it. The loose curl that has fallen over his forehead as he leans forward. It just hanging there. Slowly beginning to sway as he resumes chopping and slicing.

“What're you making me?”

“Special asado tacos.”

It’s hard to suppress the whimper in the back of your throat as your stomach rumbles, his chin lifting—brow raising as you try to clear your throat.

“Sounds delicious… what makes them special? Is it the chef?”

Smirking, he shakes his head. “It’s a family recipe. So, I hope I don’t fuck it up.”

“I doubt you could, right? It’s in your bones.”

Shrugging, he stares down at some paper—his pinky flattening it, before he brushes the chopped peppers into a pan and grabs something else.

“I don’t make it often.”

“How many times have you?”

Pausing, he doesn’t look up. Just stops his knife over the skin of the vegetable.

“Frankie. Is this the first time you’ve made it?”

“No,” he answers. Quickly, red rising up his neck. “It’s just… the first time I’ve made it for someone.”

Licking your lips, you smile—fingers outstretching over his counter, it cool under your touch. “Oh, you like me, like me.”

Smirking, he continues to chop and dice, shooting glances at you. “Maybe.”

“I think you do.”

The precision he cuts with makes you almost forget your teasing—your own name, even. The quickness of it, the perfect way they’re all cut. It’s enough to make your thighs press, a new competency unlocked it seemed—as though you were both collecting and becoming aware of them all at once.

Distantly, you hear your name. Briefly aware as you flick your gaze up, of the concern etched there—the sudden silence damning.

“Hm?”

Grinning, shaking his head as he slides the chopped food away. “I said, what makes you say that?”

Sighing, all deep—almost soothing, you smile. “Well, you named all my new plants with me.”

“I did do that.”

Nodding, you roll your lips as he uses his little finger to trace down the recipe in front of him.

“And you didn’t judge me for the fact they all needed a name.”

Casting a glance your way, he both frowns and smiles simultaneously. “Baby… I’d… I’d never.”

“I know,” you say, encased in confidence, sitting up straighter, “Because you like me.”

Shrugging, he begins moving around, collecting ingredients—the back of his hand brushing over his forehead. “Maybe you’re on to something.”

Humming, you shift on your stool—watching. Finding it hard not to keep your eyes on him, not as he moves around confidently, capably, sprinkling things in and adding pinches of others.

It isn’t until he seems more content, that things are doing what they’re supposed to, do you slip from the stool. Moving towards him, sliding between him and the worktop as your fingers brush over his cheek—an act so similar to the shower, before his hand slid between your thighs and made you struggle to stand.

“I like you too,” you whisper.

His eyebrows raise at the suggestion, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Is that so?” he asks. “Well, guess if we both like one another, that means I am allowed to ask something…”

Sucking in air through your teeth, you scrunch your nose. “I don't know, do you think you're allowed?”

Pinching your side softly, he smiles. “I wanted to ask... what we are, what are we?”

Narrowing your eyes, you roll your lips, fingers continuing to twist his curls around your nails. “What do you want me to be?”

Shrugging, he smiles—eyes slowly crinkling, all slow in the way they eventually narrow, mouth parting, basking you in human-made sunshine.

“You want me to be yours?”

He groans, it vibrating through you, hips rolling against his as he presses you to the counter. Body somehow humming, even after earlier.

“Want to be mine, Francisco?”

His hand grasps your hip more intently. “More than anything.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Nodding, you tug him closer too, bodies flush, little space between the two of you. “All yours.”

His nose slides against your cheek, before his forehead rests on yours. His eyes almost blend into one large brown oasis—almost.

“Now I’m your girlfriend, do I get extra privileges?”

Frowning, he steps to the side, stirring the cooking food—one hand on your hip, as though not wanting you to move.

“You know, show me how to use your power tools?”

Snorting, he rolls his eyes. “You say mine like others are different.”

Smirking, looking at him with the most innocent eyes you can fake, taking his hand in yours. “They’re different from mine.” Frowning, he stares for a second, seemingly baffled. “Mine aren’t used to build things, rather… make legs shake and make me cry out your name.”

You hear his swallow, as well as see it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he lies, stirring again. “Jus... Y’just incredible.”

Picking up a piece of pepper, you smile—all wicked. “Oh, I know. And aren’t you lucky I’m yours?”

THEY'RE BACK, GOD I'VE MISSED THEM. next week, we enter a spicy chapter (muhaha) and a nice little announcement about them too.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[amhrosina]

Good Girls Get Rewarded

Summary: Frank gets tired of you running your mouth and decides to remind you who's in charge. Smutty antics follow.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5k (holy shit!!!!)

masterlist // join my taglist

a/n: im not ashamed to admit that this fic is the only thing i thought about for three days straight. please enjoy. it is an absolute smut-fest!

warnings: buckle the fuck up bitches, cursing (obvi), all porn no plot, oral (male & fem receiving), fingering, pet names!!!!!, p in v sex, praise kink, size kink a little??, frank is so mean at first lmfao, lots of teasing, spanking, frank gets called sir a lot lmfao, reader is a brat, physical violence (this does not transfer to the smut!!!), i am probably forgetting so many pls let me know what i need to add!

“How’d you get this number?”

Frank’s familiar rasp was even more apparent over the phone, a tingling revelation that sent a shiver up your spine. He was in a sour mood, and you were itching for a fight. It was the perfect way to end your evening.

“Oh, c’mon, Frankie. You know I can get whatever I want whenever I want.”

“How could I forget you’re such a spoiled princess, huh? The fuck you want, princess?”

He spat the last word at you as if it were an insult. Good. He was angry, too.

“Did I catch you at a bad time? I was just admiring these pretty curtains. They designer?”

Annoyed resolve rang through in Frank’s tone as he replied. “You know I don’t know what you’re talking about. You gonna make me ask?”

“Sure, honey. I think you’ll want to know the answer.”

You smirked, eyes roaming the living room you were currently standing in the middle of. If only Frank could see you now.

He huffed. “What curtains?”

“These blue ones in your living room. Did you pick them out, or was it that Karen Page with her over-eagerness to please you?”

“You leave her the fuck out of this.” He paused, and you smirked at yourself in the mirror as the realization of what you’d said was processed fully by Frank. “You’re in my fuckin’ house? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He was already moving. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear the hitches in his breath as he barreled his way across Hell’s Kitchen, you’d know he was coming. Your plan was working. You were ecstatic.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?”

“Clever.” You hummed, running your tongue over your teeth. Since you’d first met Frank, he’d managed to throw a cat pun in your direction during every interaction you’d had. He claimed it was because the newspapers were calling you the Black Cat, but you thought it probably had something to do with the latex suit you wore. He never could keep his eyes off the curve of your hips. “Lazy, but clever, I suppose. I’ll allow it, considering the spontaneity of this phone call.”

“How kind of you.” Frank spat, and you resisted the urge to giggle over the phone. He had to be getting close, now. He’d come bursting through the door at any second. Your muscles were giddy with the thought of finally being challenged.

“You know I love chatting with you, darling, but I’ve got to run. I have a thing. Ta-ta!”

You hung up the phone, placing it on the counter and angling yourself so that you could see the front door. You weren’t exactly sure how angry he’d be that you broke into his house, but you wanted to at least seem like you had the upper hand when he charged through the door. You waited, anticipation building until you could no longer stay still. You began to pace, nervous and giddy at the same time, and of course, if you’d just been a little more patient and quiet, you probably would’ve heard the creak of the window opening behind you.

You didn’t realize Frank Castle was standing directly behind you until you backed into him. Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing exactly who was behind you and how he’d managed to perfectly out-do you in your own plan. The hands around your throat shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“It’s fuckin’ rude to break into people’s houses, princess.”

He pulled your body fully against his, attempting to wrap his arm around your neck from behind to pull you into a chokehold. You were a tricky little kitten, though, and you slipped out of his grasp almost as easily as you’d waltzed through his door earlier. Maybe he let you out. Maybe he was curious about your unprompted visit, too.

“You’re one to talk. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to grab a lady like that?”

He snorted. “Lady? Someone confuse you with someone less bitchy?”

“I’ll have you know, I am perfectly fucking civil to most people.” You assured him, jutting your chin out in defiance.

“We really doing this?” He ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. You eyed the movement and shrugged.

“Eat your fuckin’ heart out, honey.”

You both lunged for each other, your leg rising to connect with his stomach before his fist could connect with your face. He sprang back, unharmed but winded, and caught your leg before it could connect with his chest. You were suddenly on your back, having been thrown off balance by Frank, who was pushing most of his weight down on your hips to keep you from thrashing beneath him.

“You’re rusty, kid.” His eyes were bright and fiery, a combination you’d grown accustomed to during these bouts. You brought your forehead to his chin in a headbutt that would’ve knocked anyone else out completely. Frank, unfortunately, was just dazed for a moment, blinking the confusion out of his eyes before you could make much leeway against his ridiculously strong hold on your hips.

You were, however, able to wiggle one of your legs out from underneath him, giving you the perfect opportunity to pull Frank into an armbar.

“You’re old.” You smirked. Old or not, the best thing about fighting Frank was how incredibly resilient he was. No matter who ended up on top at the end of the night, your pent-up energy was always spent.

He resisted the pull into your hold, though the only other direction for him to go was on top of you. Your breath rushed out of you as he landed directly on top of your lungs, your grip on his arm loosening enough for him to roll away from you.

“Real cute, princess. You break into my house, and now you’re trying to what? Hurt me?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you coughed and remained on his kitchen floor. He really had landed hard, but you were playing the long game. “Good fucking luck. I’m not an idiot, in case you were wondering. You can stop the act.”

“You sure about that?” You rolled to your feet, pulling your hands into fists and holding them up to block your face. He rolled his eyes again, and even though he looked relaxed - unready, even - he caught your fist before it could connect with his jaw.

“You learn that on TV, princess?”

Your brow furrowed in anger. He was annoyingly good at reading your body language now.

“Actually,” you smiled up at him, face so close to his chest that you could nearly feel his thundering heartbeat, “I learned it from your mom.” You punctuated your insult with a swift knee to Frank’s groin. “I win.”

He hunched forward and you let him fall to his knees on the linoleum flooring. It was a low blow, but you weren’t in the mood to fight fair. He never did, anyway. You pushed yourself onto the counter, watching him breathe through the worst of the pain. You were an asshole, sure, but you weren’t the type to kick a man when he was down.

“You’re a fucking menace.” He grunted, nostrils flaring with anger when he took in your relaxed posture on the counter.

“Oh, please, Frank. It’s not like you fuckin’ use the thing.” You rolled your eyes, flipping your hand through the air in the universal sign for “whatever”.

His gaze shifted from anger to something you couldn’t quite place. You’d seen the look on his face before, but you’d never been able to figure out exactly what he was thinking during those moments. He tilted his head and rose to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on your face. Predator stalking prey. Goosebumps broke out on your skin.

“What was that, princess?” He stalked closer to you, and you were suddenly very aware how cornered you were in this position. To make a hasty escape you’d somehow have to catapult yourself over Frank’s shoulder or burst through what you guessed was a solid block of drywall beside you.

You swallowed thickly. “I said, it’s not like you use the thing.”

Frank’s eyes were bright with delight. Coupled with the teasing smile on his face and the slight tilt of his head, you were a little frightened.

“And you’d know that, how?” He taunted, stepping closer to you. He was in your space now, close enough to touch.

“I know a lot of things, Frankie.” You desperately grasped at the semblance of control you had left. “I know where you live, I know what you order every morning from that diner around the corner, and I know for sure that you. Don’t. Fuck.”

“Oh yeah?” Frank was leaning on the counter now, hands pressed into the granite on either side of your hips. “You think I can’t handle myself in bed, princess? Wanna try it out for yourself?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.”

You didn’t know why you’d said it, or where it came from. Frank Castle was not the man to play games with, especially not these types of games. In actuality, you had no idea who the man was fucking or how often it was happening. You hadn’t expected him to rise to the challenge when you’d teased him about it.

“Is that right, princess?” His eyes gleamed with desire, and you finally realized what the look on his face meant. “Wanna bet?”

He pressed himself fully against you, the hardness of him apparent through his jeans. Your breath hitched against the column of your throat, and you swallowed thickly. You couldn’t deny the steady pounding between your legs, and you slightly widened your legs to allow him more room.

“Yes or no, princess? Wanna learn a thing or two?” His lips ghosted over yours, tongue darting out to lightly lick your top lip in a teasing, playful motion.

Your expectations for the night had been drastically different than this. You’d planned on a physical fight, maybe a black eye or two, and a slew of insults that you’d giggle about until you saw him again. You had not been expecting…this. Whatever this is. They probably existed, but you couldn’t think of a single reason why this might be a bad idea, so you leaned into the feeling that had been steadily growing in your core, and slammed your lips against his.

He groaned, immediately plunging his tongue into your mouth in a desperate, aching kiss. Your teeth clashed against his, but neither of you seemed to notice.

“Fuck, princess.” He mumbled against your lips, angling your chin so that he could pepper kisses down your jaw and onto your throat. You panted, pawing at his shoulders as he nipped the sensitive skin below your ear. “You gonna be good for me?”

“I’m not good for anyone.” You tried and failed to sound feisty. Instead, it came out in a mixture of a whine and a moan.

“You can be good for me, kitten. I won’t tell anyone.” His hands ghosted over the bottom of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He didn’t lift it up yet, and he probably wouldn’t, you realized, until you offered him some kind of consent.

“Only if you ask nicely.” You teased, brushing your lips over his jaw.

He snorted. “That ain’t happenin’.”

A feline grin made its way across your face. “I know.”

He gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up at him as he leaned in close and whispered, “You’re going to be good for me, you fucking brat. Don’t make me say it again.”

Warm delight flooded your stomach, and even though it went against what you believed in, you nodded. You couldn’t think of a single thing you would rather be doing.

“Good girls get rewarded, kitten.” He adjusted his grip on your jaw, sliding his fingers further down your neck. He toyed with the hem of your shirt again, tugging it slightly so that you arched into his chest. “Can I take this off, sweet girl, hmm?” He hummed, running his tongue across your bottom lip.

You nodded again, and the hand around your neck flexed with displeasure.

“I kiss you for thirty seconds and your big mouth suddenly knows how to shut up?” He pinched your hip, eliciting a yelp from your unassuming mouth.

“Fuck yo-”

“Careful.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. “Use your words, kitten. I know you know how to be sweet. Be sweet to me.” His lips ghosted over yours, breath fanning across your flushed cheeks. “Can. I. Take. This. Off?” He punctuated each word with a slight squeeze of his hand, still wrapped around your throat.

“Yes.” You breathed, dipping your chin in a single nod.

“Yes…?” He cooed, close enough for you to see the amusement glittering in his eyes. The fucker was enjoying this entirely too much. Still, your core hadn’t stopped pounding since he’d cornered you, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t incredibly turned on by this, by him. You gave in to his question, as much as it hurt your stubborn heart to do so.

“Yes, sir.” You clenched your teeth around the word ‘sir’.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Or should I call you master? Or daddy? Or maybe punisher? You gonna punish me, dadd-”

His hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off before you could continue.

“Shut the fuck up. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You’re such a fucking brat.” He pulled your hips flush against his, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan making its way up your throat. He leaned in, centimeters away from your lips as he whispered, “You want to be punished, kitten, hmm? I can do that.”

You were suddenly pulled off the counter and roughly thrown over Frank’s shoulder. The swiftness in his movements made you yelp, anger coursing through your blood at his man-handling.

“Fuck you, Frank.” You gritted your teeth.

His only response was a swift slap to your backside, which was nestled directly over his shoulder.

“You can’t just throw me around like a doll!” You protested, though you did nothing to try and wiggle your way out of his grasp. The man-handling was making you a little hot and bothered, but you wouldn’t be admitting that anytime soon.

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” He grunted as he threw you down on his bed, grasping your legs and pulling you down the mattress until he was towering over you again. He brushed your hair out of your face, a gentle gesture that juxtaposed the usual ferocity of your meetings. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, and before you could think twice about it, you opened your mouth and began sucking on it. A grunt, a smirk, the subtle desire lurking behind his intense gaze - all of it was incredibly sensual. “Should’ve known the sweetness wouldn’t last. You’re a brat, through and through, kitten.” You replaced the sweet caress of your tongue around his finger with your teeth, softly biting down on the tip of his thumb in response.

“I like it though.” He mumbled quietly, more to himself than to you. His gaze coasted down your body, catching on the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hips. He looked back at you, having come to a silent decision. “I’m gonna give you another chance, kitten. Does that sound okay, baby, hmm? I want to make you feel good, alright? All you have to do is be good. That’s it. Can you do that for me? Can you be good for me?”

You blinked up at him, his frame so wide above you that it was almost sinful.

“I can be good for you.” You responded slowly, relinquishing your hold on his thumb. He quirked an eyebrow at you, and you quickly added, “I can be good for you, sir.”

His cheeks widened into a smirk.

“You’re already doing so well, sweetheart.” He praised, running his hands along your sides until they met the bottom of your shirt. You arched into him as he pulled the fabric over your head, relishing the gentleness of his touch while simultaneously missing the roughness from before.

He slid the tip of his tongue from your navel to the valley between your breasts, tugging on the thin material of your bra with his teeth. His breath fanned across your chest, bringing a renewed sense of urgency to your aching core.

“Frank.” You whined, pawing at his shoulders and attempting to pull him fully against you. He barely budged, instead choosing to narrow his focus onto your pebbled nipples.

“What is it, kitten, hmm?” He pressed a soft kiss to your nipple. It was through your bra, but it might as well have been to your bare breast, because the rippling heat that washed through your body elicited a breathy moan from your throat.

“I need- I mean, I want- Can you-” The warmth from his mouth around your nipple was scrambling your brain, and you couldn’t begin to function as his fingers began sliding your pants down your legs.

“You need somethin’, sweetheart?” He was teasing you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stay silent about it.

“Quit teasing me.” You whined, and his hands halted midway down your thighs.

“You think you have any control over this right now?” He chuckled, yanking your pants down your legs in one swift motion. “I haven’t forgotten how bratty you were earlier. You keep this up and you’ll be lucky if I let you come at all, sweetheart, and it’d do you good to remember that.”

Desire sparked deep in your core at his tone, and a devilish smile made its way to your face. He eyed you warily.

“Don’t do whatever you’re thinking about doing.” He warned, returning his attention to your breasts. “Behave. Can you do that for me?”

“Can you?”

The words were out before you could stop yourself. It was just so easy to talk back to him. He brought his teeth down around your nipple, biting hard enough to bruise.

“Brat.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed completely. You whined at the loss of contact, but it quickly turned into a moan when Frank’s rough hands flipped you onto your stomach and slapped your ass hard enough to leave a mark.

“You’ll learn to be good.” One hand held your squirming form beneath him while the other came down in another harsh slap. “I’ll fuckin’ teach you if I have to.”

You moaned, louder and louder with every slap. Sure, you were a menace to the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and, likely, Frank Castle, but you never knew being bad could feel this good. Frank hoisted you up against him, roughly pressing your back into his chest.

“You’ll submit.” He whispered, nipping at the exposed skin on your neck. “I’ll make you. I dare you to try and stop me.”

He shoved you off of him, pulling his shirt over his head as you flopped down on the mattress. You tried to crawl further up the bed, but his hand clamped around your ankle and tugged you onto your stomach again. The position gave him a perfect view of your clothed cunt, which was thoroughly soaked in its current state.

“This underwear is pretty, baby.” He mumbled, running his fingers over the damp cotton. You squirmed beneath his touch, moaning as his fingers brushed against the part of you that needed him the most. “You wear these just for me?”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, arching your back even more to give him a better view.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructed, gently prodding at your hips. You flipped over, splaying yourself out beneath his standing form, panting. “You’re good when you want something, aren’t you?”

“Who says I want something?”

Jesus. Christ. You really couldn’t help yourself. You sighed in disbelief at your own attitude. At this rate, he’d never let you come.

“Watch it.” He brought his hand down, slapping your clothed cunt in warning. You felt yourself clench around nothing, dying to be touched by him again. “You look delicious like this, kitten. I’m dying for a taste.”

His eyes flicked up to yours in question. Even after everything, he still wanted your consent before he crossed the next line. You nodded, and then winced as his eyebrows shot into his hairline and he brought his hand down in a harsh slap, connecting with your pussy again. “Words.”

“Yes. Yes, please, sir. Please taste me.” You corrected yourself, widening your legs.

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He sank to his knees, grinning. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, which surely would’ve gotten you another punishment, and tried to relax against the mattress.

“Look how pretty you are when you’re behaving.” He hummed, breath fanning over the soaked fabric. You whined as your pussy fluttered at his praise. He pressed a soft kiss to your mound, still refusing to remove the fabric simply because he knew it was driving you crazy. “You like it when I compliment you, kitten? Look at how wet you are, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, swallowing hard. You were so turned on it was starting to hurt, but you knew if you complained he would stretch the process out even further. Instead, you leaned into the praise and hoped he’d give in soon. “I’m being good, right, sir?” You asked, legs trembling with anticipation. He kissed your mound again, eliciting a groan from deep within you.

“Yes, kitten.” He smiled against your pussy. “And good girls get rewarded. Right, baby? Hmm?”

You moaned loudly as he hummed against your wet core. “Yes! Yes, please.” You nearly screamed out.

And finally, finally, he pulled your panties down your legs, discarding them in his back pocket. He briefly sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, taking in the sight before him. You were glistening with wetness - so turned on from his words alone that you could quench his thirst for a year with the amount of arousal leaking from your cunt. He grunted, slowly remembering the game he was supposed to be playing with you.

And you tensed, noticing all of this. You may not know a lot about a lot of things, but you knew Frank Castle, and you knew how to read him. You knew exactly what he’d been thinking. For a second, you had forgotten that this was all one giant game to him. He didn’t miss the way your demeanor changed. His eyes slid to yours in question.

“What is it, honey?” He asked, voice still dripping with lust but also with genuine concern.

“I just-” You struggled to find the words, and then tried to sweep the entire interaction under the rug. You wanted his tongue on you, now.  “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Lying ain’t something good girls do.” He arched an eyebrow at you. You whined, pressing your head into the mattress.

“Is this a one time thing for you?” You asked, refusing to meet his eyes as you did so. It would be pretty embarrassing to be sent home in your current state - needy and wet - but not the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You would not torture yourself by watching his eyes go from lusty to their usual cold demeanor.

“What do you mean?” He asked, running his thumbs over your hip bones.

“I mean,” you huffed, sitting up on your elbows and forcing yourself to look at him, “Will you call me after this?”

Frank’s face morphed into an understanding smirk. “Are you asking me to?”

You glared at him. He pinched your sides again. You rolled your eyes. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll call.” He said, and then his tongue was swiping through your folds, and you couldn’t do anything but flop back onto the mattress again and groan.

He lapped up the arousal that had been leaking out of you since he’d arrived earlier before focusing his efforts on your clit. His tongue drew figure-eights around your clit, sending shocking waves of pleasure through your body, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you were sure you’d died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so pretty.” Frank mumbled against your clit, sending a new spark of pleasure through you. “It pisses me off how pretty you are.”

“Please don’t stop.” You begged, legs shaking as you wrapped them around his head. His hand, which had been trailing closer and closer to your entrance, finally found its home, buried deep in your pussy. He pumped two fingers in and out of you, all the while sucking on your clit and going back and forth between praising and degrading you. You weren’t sure which direction was up.

“You just show up looking like a fucking goddess,” he punctuated the word with a harsh suck to your clit, “and expect me not to fuck you, princess? You’re begging to be fucked in those tight pants.”

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, sucking at your clit with more ferocity than you thought he was capable of. You were sobbing now, so close to the edge that you couldn’t stop the tears flowing down your temples and onto the comforter beneath you.

“You’re such a fucking brat sometimes, fuck.” He grunted. “But you’re so god damn pretty when you misbehave. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Frankie.” You sobbed, moaning as he sucked on your clit again.

“You wanna come, baby, hmm?” He cooed. “Only good girls get to come, kitten. You think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You practically screamed it, your entire body shaking with anticipation of your release. “Please let me come, sir.”

“Well, when you ask so nicely, honey.” He shrugged before attacking your clit with his tongue again.

You erupted beneath him, coming so hard your vision blacked out. You could vaguely feel Frank holding your hips in place, but your body was mostly one spark of pleasure after another. Your heart thundered in your chest, mimicking the pounding in your core. Frank squeezed your thighs hard enough to bruise, lapping up every drop of your release, but you were so far gone you barely registered it.

You eventually returned to your body - sweaty, panting, and thoroughly taken care of. Frank was smirking, pressing soft kisses into your skin.

“See what happens when you’re not a brat?” He teased, kissing the valley between your breasts. “Good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been so good for me, kitten.”

“What’s my reward?” You gasped, still a bit hazy from your orgasm.

“What do you want it to be?” He nipped at your jaw, trading between soft kisses and little bites that were sure to leave marks.

“I want to-”

His phone began ringing in his pocket, a sharp and alarming ring that startled both of you out of your hazes. He reached into his pocket and cringed when he saw who it was.

“Who is it?” You asked, curious.

He flipped the phone around for you to see, and you immediately tensed up. Motherfucking Karen Page was calling Frank, and he looked like he wanted to answer it. Your haze was gone now - long gone - and you suddenly felt like crying.

“Answer it.” You taunted, though you thought you might really start to cry if he did.

“I don’t think I’m going to.” He responded, watching you carefully.

“No, really,” you said, attempting to sit up, “She might need saving, again.”

It was a low blow, and you both knew it. It wasn’t Karen’s fault that she wasn’t skilled in hand-t0-hand combat. There was a pattern, though, and no matter how many times she got herself into trouble, Frank and/or Matt were always there to save her.

“Watch your mouth.” He blocked your attempt to sit up, shifting his weight so that he was fully hovering over you. He silenced his phone and slid it into his pocket. “You’re being a brat again.”

Hot, shameful tears welled in your eyes.

“I’m not trying to be one. This is my personality.”

“Crying after the most mind blowing orgasm you’ve ever had?”

“No.” You mumbled, though you couldn’t stop the sneaking smile from forming on your face.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” He said, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“Careful, Frank.” You murmured. “It almost sounds like you care.”

He nipped at your neck, an already sensitive area, and you groaned against him.

“I do.” He said genuinely, pulling back to make eye contact with you. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about that right now, princess. You’re about to be so cockdrunk that you won’t be able to see straight for a week.” Your pussy clenched as he grinded against you, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your stomach for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“What about my reward?” You hummed, wiping stray tears away. “I still get that, right?”

“How could I forget?” He mumbled, nipping at the marked skin around your breasts. “Princess wants her reward. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want to suck your cock.” You said, straight-faced and innocent, blinking up at him with such softness that he looked on the verge of tears. “Sorry.” You mumbled, correcting yourself before he could, “I want to suck your cock, sir.”

“You’re a fucking angel.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed and into a standing position again. You followed, reaching for his jeans. He grabbed your hands, briefly stopping them from tearing his jeans off.

“Are you sure you want this, princess? A reward is supposed to be about you.”

You sort of liked the way he called you princess now. Before, when it had been fist fights and anger, it sounded like an insult. But now, the gentle cadence he said it with made your heart clench in your chest.

“I want to.” You nodded, and smiled up at him. “Can I, please?”

He undid his belt with one hand, bringing the other up to cradle your jaw. His hand was massive on your face and neck, a reminder of how insanely large the man standing in front of you was.

“When you look at me like that,” he started, biting his lower lip and slightly shaking his head, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “I forget how fucking bratty you are. I just want to corrupt the innocent little smile of yours.”

“I come pre-corrupted.” You grinned, the feline smile returning to your face as you looked up at him. “But you’re more than welcome to try.”

You tugged at his boxers, revealing his achingly hard cock. Sucking in a breath, you tried to imagine all of it fitting inside you as he stepped out of the boxers. Your mouth watered when he stroked himself a few times, smearing the precum across the tip of his dick.

“You realize I can’t let another man touch you after this, right?” He asked, eyeing the way your tongue slid across your bottom lip. He shrugged. “You’ll never want another man, anyways.”

“You sound so sure of that.” You murmured, not fully comprehending the words coming out of your mouth. You flicked your eyes up, briefly meeting his gaze before returning to the matter at hand.

“That sort of sounds like that attitude that keeps getting you in trouble, princess.” He raised his eyebrows at you. You quickly rewound the conversation, blinking out of your cock-drunk haze.

“No. No, sir.” You shook your head, desperate to get your mouth on him. “Can I? Please?”

“That’s what I thought, baby.” He murmured, tucking your hair behind your ears. His hands traveled around your head, pulling your hair into a ponytail at the base of your neck. You slid off the end of the bed, sinking to your knees in front of him. “Go ahead, sweet girl.”

You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and kissed the tip. He let out a slow breath as you grew bolder with your mouth. His salty pre-cum smeared across your lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging your tongue through it. He groaned, tightening his hold on your hair.

“I want you to fuck my throat, sir.” You murmured, looking up at him.

“You keep looking at me like that, I ain’t fuckin’ anything. Those fuckin’ eyes of yours are gonna be the death of me.”

“Didn’t realize you were so quick to-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. You grinned, stifling a giggle before wrapping your lips around him again. You pushed your head further and further down his cock, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as you went. When your nose brushed against his pubic bone, he let out a stunted moan, slightly thrusting into your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bobbed your head up and down with more fervor, begging him to fuck your mouth harder and faster.

“You look, fuck-” He couldn’t stop himself from groaning, which spurred your movements on even more. “You look fucking amazing like this, princess.”

You hummed with acknowledgment, hoping it was enough for him to keep thrusting into your throat. Tears freely streamed down your cheeks, surely smudging the eye makeup you’d put on before you left your apartment earlier that night, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Frank Castle was sliding his dick down your throat, and you were so turned on you could probably come just thinking about it.

Frank suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a trail of spit connecting your lips to him as he panted. “‘m gonna come if you keep doing that.” He explained when he noticed your furrowed eyebrows.

“Want it.” You breathed, reaching for him again. He instead pulled you to your feet in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Another time, princess. The first time you make me come, I want it to be in your sweet little pussy.” He winked. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed how good you’re being.”

He pulled you into a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth. You groaned at both the praise and the intensity in which he kissed you. Both set your insides on fire. He led you backwards until your legs hit the bed, and you couldn't help but nip at his bottom lip when he tried to pull his head back.

“Good girls don’t do that.” He smirked, pushing you lightly so that you’d flop onto the bed again. He ran a hand over your cheek, smudging your makeup even more before running two fingers along your bottom lip. You caught on, slowly wrapping your lips around his fingers and lightly sucking. “You’re not good, though, are you, princess?”

You shook your head. His eyes had darkened again, sending a familiar pounding to your core. Your legs trembled as he began to inch his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“You can be.” His voice had lowered considerably, barely above a raspy whisper. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, princess. I won’t tell anyone.”

You whimpered, sliding your tongue around his fingers. Your skin was on fire, and the longer he stood there staring at you with those lusty eyes, the wetter you became.

“Can I fuck you now, princess?” He asked, transfixed on the fingers he was sliding in and out of your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and let me ruin you?”

He pulled his fingers from between your lips, gripping your jaw tightly. He watched you, waiting for a response. You almost nodded, making the same mistake you’d made countless times already, but caught yourself at the last second.

“Yes.” You said, swallowing. “Yes, sir.”

“Lay back, princess. I’ll take good care of you.”

You laid back and widened your legs for him, noticing the twinkle in his eyes as you complied with his demand. If you were in your right mind, you might’ve said something witty or bratty to him about it, but he was towering over you, cock hard and ready to fuck you into oblivion, and you wanted him so badly. You groaned when he began running his fingers through your slick folds, already trembling.

“This all for me?” He asked, circling your clit once, twice.

You nodded, forgetting yourself for a moment, and yelped when his hand smacked your bare pussy. It didn’t hurt. In fact, you felt your pussy spasm in response, but you’d been so lost in how great his touch felt that you hadn’t realized you’d broken a rule.

“This all for me?” He asked again, rubbing your clit roughly with the heel of his hand.

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You whimpered, legs trembling when you felt the heavy weight of his cock resting on your pussy. He used it to slap the slickness a few times, eliciting a whine from deep in your chest. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

“Who does this belong to, baby? Whose sweet pussy is this?” He asked, smacking your pussy with his cock again.

You froze, knowing the answer he was looking for, but wondering if you wanted to lower yourself to that level. It was vulnerable to give yourself over to Frank this way, but it also wasn’t as terrifying as you thought it would be.

“Say it.” He encouraged, sliding his cock through your slick folds. “Submit, princess. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Is that a promise?” You taunted, trying not to groan at the friction against your clit.

“Quit being a fucking brat.” He grunted, lining himself up with your entrance. “Say it.”

“Yours. It’s yours, sir.” You whispered, and he buried himself deep inside you.

All the gentleness you’d experienced leading up to that moment was gone, and you couldn’t do anything but cling to Frank’s shoulders as he obliterated you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart.” He hovered over you, kissing, sucking, and nipping at every inch of skin he could reach. He was marking you everywhere - you didn’t miss the implications of that - and barreling into you over and over again.

“Say it again, baby.” He whimpered in your ear, the closest you’d ever come to hearing Frank beg. “Who does this sweet pussy belong to?”

“You, sir. It’s all yours.” You replied instantly, whining as he angled himself and pistoned deeper into you. You could barely think straight, only aware of where your skin ended and Frank’s began. “Fuck, Frank. Sir. I’m fu-” You panted, whimpering, “I’m close. ‘m gonna-”

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” He murmured, ghosting his lips over your jaw as he pressed kisses to and nipped at your throat. “Cock drunk and needy. You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Sir, can I-” You shuttered when you felt his hand on your clit again, teasing it with rough, slow circles. “Oh, fuck.”

“You’ve got such a dirty mouth, baby.” He grinned, skimming his teeth along your jawline. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He punctuated the word ‘crazy’ with a deep thrust, pressing against the spongy spot deep inside you that would send you reeling. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you trembled around him. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, a sight he never wanted to stop seeing.

“You wanna come, princess?” He cooed, biting the sensitive skin on your throat and kissing the sting away.

“Please.” You gasped. It was the only thing you were capable of saying. You barely registered that you’d forgotten to call him sir, but he was so transfixed with the sounds you were making that he didn’t mention it.

“Princess gets what princess wants.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you steady as he pistoned into you at an indescribable pace. You fell apart beneath him for the second time that night, arching and panting and whining as you fluttered around him. He attacked your throat, jaw, and lips with kisses, licking and nipping at your skin.

“That’s it, baby.” He talked you through the overwhelming pleasure, holding you tightly against his chest as he continued to thrust into you. “You were such a good girl, honey. You did so good.”

You whined, fluttering around him at the praise. “I want another reward.”

In any other circumstance, your demand would’ve pissed Frank off, but you just looked so pretty underneath him. “Oh, is that so?” He asked, eyebrows raising. Amusement rang in his tone, and it emboldened you to keep speaking.

“Yeah.” You gulped, still shaking from your orgasm. “I already know what I want.”

“You’re sounding more and more like the brat I just fucked silly.” He said, gently thrusting into you. “Spit it out, baby. What do you want?”

You swallowed, smiling a little. “I want you to fill me up, sir.”

He paused, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and huffing a laugh. His warm breath sent goosebumps skittering across your skin. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, kissing you sweetly.

“I was good, wasn’t I?” You feigned innocence, knowing it would send him closer to his relief. “And good girls get rewarded?”

“Yeah, baby.” He nodded, picking up the pace of his thrusts again. “Good girls get rewarded, and you were the best girl, baby.” He leaned into your hold, lips ghosting over the crest of your ear as he whispered, “I’m gonna fill you up, baby, and you’re going to walk around dripping into your pretty little panties all day tomorrow.”

You eagerly nodded, agreeing with him, and whimpered when he began thrusting into you at a relentless pace. You arched into him, nipping at his throat hard enough to leave a mark. “You’re perfect, baby.” He breathed. “Even when you’re being a brat. Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

His thrusts grew sloppier, his breaths coming in short, stunted grunts as he finally let himself go. His heart thundered in his chest, and you clung to him, kissing across the broad expanse of his body until he nearly fell on top of you in trembles.

You cradled his head against your chest, breathing in unison with him. At some point, his arms had wound around you, which meant you were now wrapped in each other’s arms, limbs tangled together as both of you came down from your highs.

“Holy shit.” Frank said, chuckling. “That is not what I was expecting when you called.”

“You gonna kick me out now?” You asked, half-joking. He tensed against you, lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Don’t be a brat.” He nipped at your skin. “I’m not kicking you out, unless you want to leave.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Of course I want you to stay. I’m a fuckin’ gentleman, kitten.”

You scoffed, though you could feel yourself hiding a smile. “Whoever told you that clearly hasn’t heard you in the bedroom.”

He scoffed in mock-offense. “Are you saying you didn’t have a perfectly nice time just now?”

“I did.” You grinned. “I’m…sorry I said you weren’t good in the sack.”

He looked up, stunned. “Did the Black Cat just apologize? To me?”

You rolled your eyes, huffing. “Yeah, but no one would believe you if you told them.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough, princess.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think you need to admit to me that I’m incredible in bed and that you were wrong.” He was grinning so wide you had to resist the urge to punch him in his stupid, handsome mouth.

“I’m not doing that.” You shook your head, stifling a laugh.

“Do it.” He murmured, nodding.

“I refuse.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

You were both grinning at each other now.

“You’re such a brat.” He said.

“That’s what got us into this mess.” You countered.

“Just say it, princess. For me?” He pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Fine.” You gave in, rolling your eyes. “Frank Castle, you’re a sex God!”

He chuckled, pulling you tightly into his chest.

“Good girl.” He praised, kissing you softly.

“Do I get a reward?” You arched an eyebrow at him, smirking.

He smirked back, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Oh yeah, princess. Good girls get rewarded, remember?”

Tag List:

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[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: A New World {4}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: The 2023 season can't all be sunshine and rainbows, not when the Red Bull team look impossible to beat. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five

notaverstappen Miami

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 78,283 others

notaverstappen: I'd hit that (the volleyball of course) view all comments

Miami Grand Prix “Holy shit, those fuckers are fast.” 

Lando barely looked up from where he lay on the bed with his head hanging off the end. He wasn’t interested in what you were doing, he was in a world of his own and wallowing with a bag of rainbow Twizzlers. Charles’ mood wasn’t much better after his 7th place finish, thanks to another famous Ferrari strategy, but he did turn away from his phone for a second to see what you were looking at on your laptop.

You were busy reading the data from the race and watching the replay, trying to find any room for improvement, but it wasn’t looking promising. Your pencil could attest to that as it began falling to pieces from where you chewed on the end of it and you weren’t going to be able to make many more notes with it.

Pausing the video, you grabbed your phone and called Max. “What the hell kind of rocket did Newey build?”

“Hello Max, how are you? I’m great, thanks for asking,” Max huffed, making you roll your eyes.

“I drove perfectly today, and I couldn’t get within 25 seconds of you. I just don’t understand it. Can you send me your data?”

You clenched your teeth at the scoff he made. “You know I can’t do that. And don’t even try the whole ‘but I’m your sister’.”

“But I am your sister, and it’s so humiliating to go from racing for first place to just racing for the bottom step of the podium.” Your hand tightened around your phone and your eyes burned even after screwing them closed. “Please, Max.”

“I can’t,” he said quietly. “But…if you visit P on Wednesday while I’m at the factory the sim might be left in the race set up.”

Charles jumped at the squeal you gave. “Thank you, thank you. You’re my favourite brother again.”

You hung up the phone after a quick goodbye but your smile disappeared at the shake of Lando’s head. “What?”

“Humiliated with third place,” he muttered as he looked to Charles for back up. “Is she serious?”

“I think so, but you know what Max is like when he doesn't win.”

“He throws a tantrum, I’m not throwing a tantrum - I just want to know how to do better. I need to show Red Bull that it should be me in that seat.”

“Okay, and then what? What happens if they offer it to you? You know how toxic that place was, you know how bad it was for your health - how can you want that again?” Lando took your phone and dropped it on the bedside drawer as he knelt beside you. “Answer me.”

“I don’t want the seat,” you corrected him, kneeling so you were eye to eye. “I just want to prove the point.”

“What point is that? Everyone already knows you are the best driver, you’re the World Champion.”

You felt your hands turn to fists at your side as they began to tremble and you were unable to control the outburst that followed. “That it wasn’t the fucking car, Lando! You think I don’t hear them all talking behind my back, saying anyone could have won if they had my car.”

“Woah, let’s just cool down,” Charles interjected with a hand on each of your shoulders. 

“No, Char, I am going out of my mind here. I have had to sit through interviews and read news articles getting absolutely slated by reporters telling me I’m nothing without the Red Bull seat.” You fell back on the pillows and bundled one to your chest as you turned away from your boyfriends. “I know third place is something to celebrate, but this is about more than winning.”

Charles’ hand came to rest on your hip and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Come on, mamor, let’s go get you some chocolate.”

“I’m not on my period,” you grunted as you shook his hand off you. “Are you trying to be condescending or is this just coming naturally?”

“I was trying to be nice, but you want to act like a spoiled child. Lando, coming?”

You felt them both climb off the bed and felt their absence like a punch to the gut. You clenched the pillow tighter to your chest as silence filled the hotel suite but it didn’t replace them. 

“Fuck,” you swore as you threw the pillow across the room, launching them all one after another as waves of emotions crashed over you. They didn’t like losing either so surely they could understand why you felt the way you did - but obviously they did not. Exhausted from the race, and argument, you collapsed in the middle of the bed and bundled yourself into the blankets, wrapping them tightly around you. Within seconds you were fast asleep, but it wasn’t a restful sleep - not when you were alone.

You felt even more exhausted when you woke to the pre-dawn light filtering through the gap in the curtains. Soft snores sounded beside you and you found Lando and Charles cuddled for warmth since you were still wrapped tighter than a burrito in the blankets. The fact they had returned to you and not one of the other beds in the suite eased something strange in your chest and you knew you had to make it up to them. You didn’t know what came over you, but you had been a bitch to Charles especially.

You carefully laid the blankets over them and closed the door behind you. 

The streets were busy for the early hour and as the sun broke the horizon you wandered aimlessly until a scent caught your attention. You followed the saliva-inducing smell until you reached a large square with a market setting up in the centre of it. Key Lime pies and Cuban sandwiches made your stomach grumble while the fresh fish and stone crabs had the opposite effect.

Shopping bags dug into your wrist as you tried to carry them and balance the extra large pie, but you managed to make it back to the hotel suite without dropping either. Charles was in front of the coffee machine that was warming up with a whirring noise but he moved the instant he saw you walk in.

“Where have you been, chérie?” he asked as he took the Key Lime pie and placed it on the table before helping take the bags of fresh fruit and hot sandwiches too. “I was worried when you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Sorry, I had my hands full.” 

“What is all this?”

You looked at your feet as you shrugged. “This is my ‘I’m sorry for what I said when I was hungry’ apology. I was a bitch and if you want you can totally pie my face.”

“It’s been a long few weeks, you can be forgiven for snapping,” he said softly as he pulled you into his arms, and wiped a dollop of meringue across your cheek. You gasped at the sticky smear running down your cheek and Charles smirked before dipping his head down and licking the sweet topping off. “Now go wake up Lando before there’s no pie left.”

Monaco Grand Prix The cancellation of Imola’s race made for a nice, albeit unexpected, break and you had made the most of it after helping with the clean up. Yuki started it and convinced Pierre to help, who convinced Charles, who convinced Lando. You would have rather slept the rainy week away but it had been quite a heartwarming event in the end - until the silt and mud mess began to reek and you were happy it was time to leave.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much did you stick to your training schedule over the break?” Kristian asked as he keyed data into his iPad.

“Negative three, if I had to guess,” you said with a laugh. “I mean, you shovel dirt for 12 hours a day and survive on a salad. I had carbs, dude, but I would have burned it off too, so relax.”

“But you haven’t and that was two weeks ago,” he frowned, turning the iPad around to show the graph slowly climbing. “What have you been doing since?”

“I went skiing with Charles in Austria and cycled the Pyrenees with Lando so lay off my ass. Fucks sake, man.” 

It was almost time for qualifying to begin but you weren’t able to focus properly as you stormed your way down the line of motorhomes to McLaren. You could hear his music playing before you reached his room and it spilled out into the hall when you opened the door. 

“Hey baby,” he greeted with a smile that dimmed as he saw your mood and he turned the music down, “what’s wrong?”

“Kristian, with a K, pissed me off.” You dropped onto his couch and stretched out before lifting your feet up so Lando could sit down too. He slipped your racing boots off before laying your feet across his lap and pushed the legs of your race suit up your calves so he could give you a little massage. “He practically called me a lazy bitch.”

“I doubt that,” Lando said with a roll of his eyes. “If he actually did, we wouldn't be here talking about it, we’d be getting ice for Charles fist.”

“Okay, wise guy, I might have been paraphrasing…”

He chuckled at the admission and you yawned as the massage began to relax you enough to doze off.

“Sorry, love, it’s time to go,” Lando woke you with a kiss to your cheek and you found you had curled up into a ball while you slept. “We can have a proper nap after quali.”

You ignored Kristian’s presence as you entered the garage and shrugged your race suit up over your shoulders on the walk over to your race engineer. “How’s everything looking?”

“We are running with the setup from FP3 but we will still monitor the rear braking temperatures,” Chris said as he gathered his notebook to take to the pit wall. “It doesn’t look like there should be an issue again.”

You nodded before pulling on your balaclava then helmet and climbing into the car that had been warming up.

“And that will be P2, that is another front row start for tomorrow. Nicely done.”

You grinned inside your helmet as you waved to some of the fans while you finished your cool down lap and asked, “How did Charles and Lando do?”

“Leclerc is P3 and Norris is P10.”

“10? He was doing faster sectors than I was,” you muttered as you remembered seeing the times on the big screens around the track. 

By the time you pulled into the pits you had found out that Charles had impeded Lando on his final flying lap, resulting in the poor time. You knew he wouldn’t have done it on purpose but your stomach sank when you went to Ferrari only to find Charles on his way to the stewards - his forlorn face knowing he was going to get a grid penalty at his home race.

There was hardly any talk around the table that night when you got home. Lando was picking at each single grain of rice with his chopsticks and Charles just stared at his bowl before sighing and pushing it away. 

You silently rose from the table and felt their curious eyes follow you as you disappeared into the bedroom and changed into a racy set of lingerie that still had the tags on. You had bought it as a surprise but never had the chance to wear it, so what better time to test it out then when both men were clearly in need of a distraction. 

You knelt in the middle of the bed after you sent a message to the group chat and waited patiently. There was a quiet vibration of their phones on the table, the scrape of the chair legs over the tile floor, the padding of bare feet through the apartment, and the soft gasps of air they inhaled at the sight.

“Fuck me,” Lando whispered before he drew his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Moi aussi.”

“That is the plan,” you teased, drawing your fingers over the lace trim on your thighs. “But only if you can play nicely with each other. Hmm? I think you should kiss and make up.”

You held out a hand to each one and gave them a tug onto the bed and into each other's path. Their quick reactions stabilised them before they could crash and they shared a chuckle as they settled face to face.

“I’m sorry, amor,” Charles murmured, reaching for the curl that always flopped over Lando’s forehead. “I didn’t mean to ruin your shot.”

“I know, I’m sorry too,” Lando said, equally as soft before he caught Charles open hand and kissed his palm. With apologies over, their eyes turned to you. “Now, baby, where have you been hiding this?”

You winked as you made yourself comfortable on the pillows at the headboard and parted your legs. Their chests filled with a big breath in and a grin grew on their faces until both their dimples showed. “You like them?”

Lando’s head bobbed with his quick nods and he fell onto his forearms as he settled between your legs, his fingers teasing the line of your slit through the crotchless panties. “I like them a lot.”

You snapped your legs closed as he started to inch forward and he looked up with a pout as you warned him. “I said kiss and make up. A proper kiss.” It hurt to deny him, your body screaming at you for denying you both the pleasure of his touch, but you were quickly rewarded when their hands tangled in each other’s hair and their tongues fought for dominance.

An achy throb grew between your legs as they were pushed open by Lando’s shoulders as he fell back beneath Charles’ body. Lando looked quite pleased with himself as he bared his neck for the sloppy kisses Charles was leaving and his eyes rolled up to watch you enjoying the scene yourself. A pained curse tumbled from his lips when you reached for the thin material covering your breasts and pulled them aside to palm them as your hips rocked beneath Lando’s heavy body. 

“Okay, you two are good now,” you breathed as you rolled your nipples between your thumb and forefinger. “I want my kiss.”

Charles peeked up from where he pinned Lando beneath him, the pressure pushing Lando’s nape over your clit and eliciting a moan from you. “I don’t know, ma petite, I kind of like this show you are giving us.”

You teased them further as they shifted to get a better view. Lando turned to watch you too and Charles sat behind him, his hands trailing down Lando’s front as delicately as he played the piano. You waited until his palm rode over the erection tenting his shorts before you grew impatient. 

Two pairs of eyes, one blue and one green, followed your hand intently as you raised it to your lips and swirled your tongue around two digits and they moaned, knowing the feel of your tongue doing the same to their cocks. Their eyes fixated on your fingers as you spread your legs and touched yourself for them, the pleasure quickly spreading as you watched Charles stroking Lando’s length in time to your ministrations.

“Look how wet she is for us, mon cher,” Charles purred as he teased a thumb over Lando’s sensitive tip until he shuddered. “Don’t you want a taste?”

Lando’s lips parted to agree but a needy whine escaped and the sound went straight to your core, your back arching in delight. 

“Please,” you begged your boyfriends, their eyes almost black with lust. “I need more than my fingers.”

Lando whimpered as Charles fist unfurled from his cock but the loss was only momentary when the Monegasque whispered in his ear. “Go on, give her what she needs.”

“What about y-?” Lando asked over his shoulder after he sent his shorts flying off the bed and pressed his erection to your dripping entrance. The words died as he saw Charles eyes following the curve of his spine before settling on the swell of his ass. “Oh.”

Charles chuckled and sent a wink back. “I’ll get what I need.”

Click here for the next part.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

"That's a very stupid idea." Single Dad Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F! Reader

Summary: On the eve on Jake's first deployment since becoming a father, you and Jake try to act like nothing is different. But can you let him go without telling him the truth? That you've not just fallen in love with Tyler Seresin but also his dad.

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + only, Explicit smut, language, single dad Jake and live in nanny reader, age-gap.

Cross Posted on AO3

You’d grown to love Tyler Seresin like he was your own son. Standing in the doorway to the toddler's room, watching his father kneel on the floor beside him, brushing the sweet blonde curls off his forehead was almost too much. 

His father Jake being in the Navy, needed someone desperately when he gained full custody of a son he never knew existed after his mother passed in a tragic accident. His ad on Facebook caught your eye, and the idea of room and board included was an added bonus, but it became more than a job a long time ago. 

“I love you, buddy,” you hear Jake whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. This was the first deployment since you waltzed into their lives thirteen months ago, and your heart aches at the thought of not seeing him every day. He stands, taking another moment to stare at his son before turning back and pausing seeing you in the doorway.

“He’s really gonna miss you,” you whisper, putting a clenched fist to your chest, “we both are.” 

His eyes soften as he turns one last time to look at the little boy, before nodding out into the hallway and closing the door shut behind him. “Meet me on the couch?” he asks, staring at you with an unknown expression. 

“Yeah,” you tremble, “we got to watch the next episode of Only Murders in the Building.” 

Jake smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes when he nods, “it’s probably gonna be awhile till we get the chance again. I’ll go get the snacks and meet you there. Maybe we can finish the season tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.” 

“Whatever you want to do,” you nod, “I’m not going anywhere.” You take off down the hall, feeling him close behind you as you walk down the stairs and turn off to the living room. He goes to the kitchen grabbing the snacks and you pull out the big blanket and grab the remote, lighting a few candles before flicking off the lights. 

Jake comes back a few minutes later, hands full with two beers, a bowl of popcorn, and several bags of candy. You smile, thinking of the candy you’ve been hoarding in your closet to mail him in his care packages. “Blanket please,” he grins and you lift the blanket, the couch bouncing when he settles down beside you, pulling it back over you both and taking the bowl from his hands. 

“Now I don’t know about you but I have some theories about our killer,” he takes a handful of popcorn and puts it in his mouth. 

“You always have theories,” you tease, settling yourself against him, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you in tight, “and they’re always wrong.” 

He gasps, “No they are not!” You giggle, leaning back against his arm and staring up at him, the smile on his face wavering as you both realize how close you are. His voice softens, as he lifts one knuckle to run along your cheek, “I’m really gonna miss you.” 

You take a shaky breath, “I’m really going to miss you too. I’ve had this idea, a recurring thought in my head, that you’re going to find someone else. Come home and not need me anymore.” 

“That’s a very stupid idea,” he leans closer, his nose brushing against yours. “I am always going to need you. I’m always gonna want you.” 

“Jake,” you whisper, your lips brushing his he’s so close, “we shouldn’t. You’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“I know Darlin’,” his accent’s thick, “but if I go away for six months and not at least kiss you, that would be the biggest mistake of my life. Because baby, it would be agony to be alone with nothing but my hand and just the image of you in my head, without having had to taste those lips I dream about, every, fucking, night.” 

“You dream about me?” you sit up pushing off the blanket to the floor and straddling his lap. His cock is hard and straining against his sweatpants and you let out a whimper when it catches your clit as you settle down, arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Baby,” he warns, letting out a moan when you grab his hands and place them on your ass, giving him the permission he needs. He surges forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. It’s like coming home, he pulls you closer, needing to feel every inch of you pressed against him. His tongue comes out to lick your bottom lip, tangling with your own on a groan. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, when he lifts his hips, driving his hard cock against you, your panties drenched and soaking through his sweats. “Jake,” you pull his hair, and he pulls back, his eyes hazy as they watch you pull off the black lace nightgown, dropping it to the floor. If he wasn’t religious before he is now as he worships your breasts, biting and kissing every inch before taking a perky nipple and sucking it into his mouth. 

“Oh, god,” you lean back, his hands squeezing your ass as he lowers you off him and down onto the couch. His mouth works down your body and you bite your lip, eyes rolling back when he mouths at your soaked panties. 

“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, and you open your eyes and nod, “I’m gonna need verbal confirmation darlin’.” 

“Yes,” your quick to answer, “Jake, please, please, please,” he groans, quickly pulling off your panties and pulling your legs over his shoulder before diving into your soaked cunt. “Oh,” you groan, “fuck, Jake.” He swirls his tongue back and forth over your clit, your pussy soaked, he pulls back and spits on your pussy before diving back in. He must have been blessed with some pussy eating powers because the way he moves his mouth, up and down, fast and then slow have you shaking before the most powerful orgasm of your life takes over. He holds your legs tight, watching as they tremble and you lean back into the couch, your chest high in the air as you whimper out his name. 

“That’s it, baby,” he coos, kissing up your chest before finding your lips, “that’s my girl.” He tastes like you, tangy and sweet his chin glistening as he smiles down at you, “Ready for another one?” 

You huff out a laugh, still struggling to catch your breath, “I think I need a minute.” 

“We got all night,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, “I’ll happily go down on you till the sun comes up, baby. That was a fucking sight.” 

“What about you?” you run your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing as he leans further into your touch. “Aren’t you gonna let me have a taste?” 

His eyes slowly open, a vulnerability you’re surprised to see after he just put his mouth on your most sensitive areas. “I don’t have any expectations, I’ll take any piece of you, you’ll give me.” 

“You’re not the only one who dreams, Lieutenant,” his jaw clenches when you use his title and you worry you’ve crossed a line, quickly going to apologize when he cuts you off. 

“Say that again,” his voice has gone deep, and you realize it’s his commanding voice. 

“I’d like to serve you, Lieutenant.” 

He swallows hard, before getting up and standing beside the couch, your naked and he takes a moment to gaze over you before pulling down his sweats and boxers. Your breath catches in your throat and you lick your lips when he pumps his cock, eyes caressing as he watches the rise and fall of your chest, your thighs clenching together. “On your knees,” his voice is strong and confident and you stand quickly dropping to your knees before him. 

“Show me your tongue,” his hand on your jaw is firm but not uncomfortable and you open your mouth presenting your tongue. “That’s a good girl,” he slaps his cock against your tongue, “now serve your Lieutenant.” He takes his hand off your jaw, placing it on your head as he guides his cock into your waiting mouth. He groans when you wrap your lips around him, sucking him deep, “Oh fuck, shit, baby.” 

Swirling your tongue around the tip, he looks down, holding your eyes as you suck him deeper and deeper, the tears seeping out of the corner of your eyes and the sounds are vulgar. Spit dripping down his balls and onto your tits, your pussy throbbing with the control, the power he commands as he drives you back and forth on his cock. “Shit, I’m close,” he moans, “stop,” he gasps, pulling you off, “stop, stop.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” you frown, glancing up at him as he brushes the tear off your cheek. 

“No,” he drops to his knees before you, “no, you did nothing wrong, you hear me?” 

You pout, “then why’d you not let me finish?” 

His face turns serious before he stands holding out a hand and pulling you off the floor and into his arms. “I wanted to let you finish,” he comforts, “believe me, baby. But I want to do something else more if you’ll have me.” 

“Oh Jake,” you run your fingers through his hair, “you’ve had me from the moment we met. There’s never been anyone else, and I don’t think they’ll ever be anyone else.” 

Jake leans down, picking you up bridal style and taking off for the bedroom. He pushes the door open and lays you down gently with a soft kiss before turning back to the door and closing it, sliding the lock into place. He goes to the nightstand, turning on the soft light before reaching for a box of condoms and setting them on top of the dresser. 

He grabs one, and you sit up taking it from his hands and ripping it open. His eyes watch as you slide it onto his cock, before you lay back against the plush pillows. Jake settles between your legs, his hands on either side of your waist as he kisses you so slowly and achingly tender it makes you want to cry. The first press of him inside has you tenseing before he reaches down between you, rubbing your clit slowly as he works in inch by inch. He fills you so completely like he was meant to be here, his cock pressing deep enough inside you, you can feel him hit your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he moans, pressing his forehead to your own, “your pussy is perfect, baby, so tight and warm wrapped around me. I never want to leave.” 

“I don’t want you to leave either,” you whisper, a tear sliding down your cheek, “god, Jake, you were made for me. I-” you hesitate only a second, “I love you.” 

Jake leans back, his eyes wide as he licks his lips, a single tear running down his cheek as he slowly starts to move inside you. You’ve read before about people making love for the first time but never experienced it. But the way Jake moves, his body so in sync with your own, this isn’t fucking, this is making love. 

The pressure builds and you move your hips meeting him with each thrust, his hand moving back between you as he rubs your clit. “That’s it, baby,” he praises, “cum with me, almost there,” his hips move fast and there is a power that knocks the air from your lungs with each thrust before you're crying out as he fills you. He never stops, still thrusting steadily inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm before pulling out. 

You catch your breath feeling vulnerable when he quickly leaves the bed and flicks on the bathroom light. Only for him to return a moment later, the condom disposed of, and a warm washcloth running over your spent pussy. He tosses the cloth into the laundry bin, turns off the light, and folds into bed behind you, pulling you against his chest, his chin slotted on your shoulder. 

Jake presses his lips to your cheek and whispers, “I love you,” into your ear. You turn, glancing up at him with wide eyes and he smiles running his fingertip over your face as he traces every line. “Did you think I didn’t?” you stay silent, watching him and trying to take a mental picture. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I came home to Tyler sitting on the counter in his chair laughing as you danced to Foot Loose.” 

“That was eleven months ago,” you do the math, “why didn’t you say something?” 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I’m older than you by ten years baby, and I’m a single parent. I didn’t want you to feel stuck. You still have so much to do in your life, I didn’t want you to have to wait around for me.” 

“I choose you, Jake,” you press a hand to his cheek, his eyes becoming glassy. “I love you, Jacob Andrew Seresin. I love Tyler like he’s my own son, and there is nothing on this earth that is going to take me away from you. Tomorrow you have to leave for six months and fuck I’m going to miss you every single day but I will be here when you get back. Because that is what you do when you love a man in uniform, Jake.” 

“I love you,” he whispers, your full name coming out like honey on his tongue. “I’m gonna fight like hell to come home to you. To both of you. I’ll call home as much as I can and write when I can’t.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest, his cock hard against your ass, and you wiggle causing him to groan in your ear. 

“So soon, Lieutenant?” you tease, his hand on your waist dipping lower between your thighs and his teeth leaving hickeys on your neck, soothing with his tongue. 

“Oh baby,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice, “we got all night.” 

[writtenfangirl]

Call Me By My Name

Singapore was arguably the most exciting race of the season. Been thinking about writing fics for Carlos Sainz too but only if there's a demand for it so drop your prompts/suggestions if you guys feel like reading about our favorite Smooth Operator!

Y/N clicked the little red dot on the screen of her phone before nestling it amongst the clutter of the TV stand, aiming it towards her and her unsuspecting boyfriend, who was too busy preparing himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen to notice his girlfriend’s mischievous grin or the furtive glances she was casting his way. 

Not for the first time in her life, Y/N was grateful for the apartment’s open floor plan. 

Charles’ apartment was located in one of the highest buildings in Monaco. Many of Charles’ driver friends lived in the same apartment complex but only he lived in the penthouse. The owner of the building was a big fan of his and had given Charles the penthouse of less than half the price. 

The building was close to the sea and with Charles’ living in the highest floor, his apartment had one of her favorite views in the world. They spent hours of their lives here with the windows open, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, mingling with the salty sea breeze that flew through the room. Sunsets were even more gorgeous with the view of the apartment and Y/N always made sure to leave after dark so she could watch the sun sinking beneath the waves. Not that Charles really allowed her to go when it go too dark. Most of the time, he insisted she’d stay over for the night so he knew she was safe.

Another reason why she preferred to “leave” after dark.

The apartment’s wide and expansive space was airy, light easily filtering through the window’s gauzy curtains. The open floor plan meant Y/N was able to keep her phone hidden in a little space next to the TV without Charles noticing it, all the while affording her phone a view of the kitchen unobstructed. 

She sent her phone a quick grin and a thumbs up before she settled on one of the couches in the living room that gave her a perfect of view of Charles. He was shirtless, his back turned to her as he reached for a bowl in the high shelf of his cupboard.

“Baby, do you want anything?” Charles called out as he continued preparing his food.

“Do you think you can make me of a cup of coffee, Charles?” She answered, a little too innocently when he went back to the empty bowl that he placed on the kitchen isle with a box of cereal in his hands.

Almost instantly he paused, the cereal box raised and half-poured, his eyes wide in alarm instantly snapping to her. “What did you say?”

“I said, can you make me a cup of coffee, Charles?” She repeated, fighting to keep her expression blank. How she managed to not burst out laughing at the sight of pure and abject horror at her boyfriend’s face was beyond her. 

His alarmed expression intensified at his name as he put down the cereal box, his snack forgotten. “Did I do something to upset you, amore? Are you mad at me?”

She feigned ignorance. “No, Charles. I just want some coffee.”

“You did it again!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at her as he rounded the kitchen aisle and came out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“Did what again?”

“You called me Charles!”

“That’s your name!” She exclaimed, unable to stop her laugh this time.

“What is today?” He demanded before fishing his phone out of his pocket and checking the date. “Today is not your birthday or our anniversary. What did I do?”

“Nothing!” She exclaimed. 

“But you are calling me Charles, amore! That means you are mad!”

“Am I not allowed to call you Charles?” She teased. 

“No.” He declared with a pout. “You can only call me Charles when you are mad at me. Any other day, you call me babe or amore or (a term of endearment in your native language).”

“Okay, Charles. Please make me a cup of coffee?”

His pout turned into a scowl before he raised a hand to his brow like a sailor searching for land. He turned left and right and in such a dramatic way, it could only be called sarcastic. “Who is this Charles, amore? Do I know him? Is he here?”

“You are Charles! Charles Marc Herve Percival Leclerc!”

“Ask Charles to make you your coffee.” He scoffed before he crossed his arms, his head cocked high up into the sky before he spun around and sauntered back to the kitchen. 

Y/N couldn’t stop her laughter anymore. Not when her overdramatic boyfriend occasionally acted like a child when he was being teased by her. She shook her head, her lips pulled into a smile as she jumped on her feet and walked to the kitchen, embracing him from behind as he poured cereal into his once abandoned bowl. “I’m only kidding, babe. Can you please make me a cup of coffee?” And to seal the deal, Y/N stood on her tip toes and placed a kiss on his stubbly cheeks. 

Almost immediately, Charles’s sulking face lightened into a grin as he turned around, took her face in his warm hands and placed a quick kiss on her lips. It was so fast, it was more appropriate to call it a peck but it had the same effect as his other kisses. Her toes curled, her smile turning wide and infectious. 

“Okay, amore,” he said when he pulled away, his smile as incandescent as hers no doubt was. His verdant eyes were almost glittering, reminding of her of leaves against the summer sun, impossibly green yet tinged blue when held up to the sky. “I will make you your coffee, just the way you like it.”

“Thank you,” and then because she couldn’t help it, “Charles.”

His answering groan was enough to give Y/N a permanent smile for the rest of the day.

[inamagicalhallucination]

Atsushi’s hands trembled as he waited for the phone to be answered. He hoped Dazai-san would answer. Atsushi had seen him ignore phone calls often – though he usually picked up for Atsushi (specifically after he hadn’t picked up once when Atsushi had gotten kidnapped (again); though Atsushi hadn’t blamed him because it was 4 am at the time, and Dazai had been, for once, asleep). But Atsushi had watched as Dazai-san hung up (on numbers he had saved), watched them ring (on numbers he was clearly familiar with but were not saved), or turned on his airplane mode. Dazai really avoided phone calls.

Atsushi had a general sense of hope that Dazai wouldn’t ignore him – but he wasn’t calling from his own phone. He didn’t even know where it was.

Instead, Atsushi was in a phone booth; the only light he had was the pale yellow of the streetlight. No one was out and about, all the buildings around him were dark and vacant. Atsushi didn’t know where he was.

He didn’t know how he’d gotten here.

Had he been kidnapped? He couldn’t remember. The last thing he remembered was walking home after work. If he’d been kidnapped perhaps his memory had been wiped. Still, even if it was nice to try and think of a logical solution, it did not settle the eerie unease he felt. 

Especially since he didn’t feel injured. Perhaps Byakko had overtaken… but his clothes were unharmed minus a few dirt stains here and there. He looked… he felt…

He hoped Dazai-san picked up.

He looked around, wishing he could recognize something, anything – just a trigger. Something that would bring back…

“‘ello?” an achingly familiar voice mumbled, half asleep. Atsushi almost sobbed in relief.

“Da-Dazai-san?”

A pause and some shuffling.

“Atsushi? What number is this? Why aren’t you calling from your phone?” Atsushi felt a sob slip past his lips. His shaking wavered at Dazai’s voice though. 

“Atsushi?” Dazai sounded really uncomfortable. If Atsushi had had the energy to think about it, he’d laugh at Dazai’s inability to deal with emotions.

“Daz-Dazai-san,” he wailed, not being able to push all the words and worries he had out in the open. 

He felt like a child.

“Atsushi? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I-I,” he took in a deep breath before forcing himself to continue, “I don't know-know whe-re I am– I- I ca-can’t re-member anything.”

There was a pause again and then shuffling.

“Ah, I see,” Dazai said, voice suddenly light. “Atsushi-kun got lost!”

Atsushi sniffled miserably.

“And needs his big, great, strong mentor to come rescue him!” 

Even through his tears, Atsushi snorted. He wiped at his eyes – his hands weren’t shaking anymore.

“Do you recognize any buildings?” 

Atsushi shook his head, remembered himself, and mumbled ‘no’.

“That’s fine,” Dazai continued, “for an amazing mentor– no for an amazing beam of existence such as myself– this is no challenge! Can you read any signs? On buildings or on the street?”

That, Atsushi could do. 

He looked around, wiped his eyes again so his vision wouldn’t be tear-blurry, and called for Byakko’s vision just in case. He muttered off any sign he could catch until Dazai hummed and said he was on his way.

“You know wh-where I’m at?” Atsushi asked.

“Yeah,” Dazai said, absentmindedly, “I tried to sell Kunikida-kun coke there.” 

He hung up before Atsushi could ask.

Atsushi squatted down, resting his arms and head on his knees. He was trying to calm himself before Dazai showed up. Though he’d pulled from Byakko again, transforming his ears, to make sense of any noise that could indicate Dazai. 

When Dazai came, after half an hour or perhaps an hour, or perhaps even 10 minutes, Atsushi sent him a wobbly smile. He didn’t offer anything else and Dazai didn’t ask. Not about why he was there or why he was curled up on the seat during the car ride.

Nor did he comment on Atsushi’s grip on his jacket as they left the car. 

He simply let Atsushi follow him back to his own apartment as if it was a perfectly normal thing for him to do.

The next day, when he cautiously approached Ranpo, hoping to get some insight into his potential kidnapping and memory loss, he was met with strangely sad green eyes as Ranpo assured him that he hadn’t been kidnapped at all. Instead, Ranpo said, he should go see Yosano. 

He lingered at her door but shrugged it off. He had probably transformed. Yeah, that was it. He just needed to focus more.

Ranpo stared at him as he walked back to his desk, but did not say anything. 

When he sat down, Dazai reached one long leg over to tap his foot but also did not say anything.

/

Atsushi ignored it for a week.

Then he found himself blinking around in a vaguely familiar alleyway, trying to figure out what had happened. He looked around, trying to remember how he’d gotten here. He scrunched his eyes shut, desperately trying to remember his last memories but it was all a blank from him leaving his apartment in the morning.

Atsushi shuddered, trying to calm himself.

This was okay.

It was probably Byakko. He just needed to breathe, he needed to calm down.

Breathe.

Breathe…

Just breathe-

“Weretiger?” 

Atsushi spun around, hands flinging into a defense position. He was greeted by yellow hair.

“H-Higuchi?” he blinked, taking in the confused frown on his old attacker’s face.

“What are you doing in mafia territory?” she asked, looking around cautiously, perhaps checking if he was alone. For a moment he pondered if she was here on purpose… was it a coincidence? The mafia had tried to capture him before. Perhaps they’d done it again. Perhaps they’d been behind the other day too… but the alliance… would they risk it?

Before he could work himself up though, Higuchi’s name was called by a voice that should have filled Atsushi with dread.

Instead, though, it washed over him in relief, in familiarity. He didn’t know Higuchi well. Only meeting her when Akutagawa was there or that memorable time they had stalked Gin.

But Akutagawa… He was familiar. He’d know where Atsushi was. He’d-

“Jinko?” Akutagawa scowled at him. His coat rippled. Atsushi almost sobbed, half delirious in relief, half upset at himself for somehow associating Akutagawa with safety. 

Rashomon reached out but faltered as Akutagawa (and Higuchi) stared at him with wide eyes.

“Um… are you crying?” Higuchi asked tentatively. She shifted awkwardly. 

“Ak-Akutagawa,” Atsushi cried out, reaching up to pat his eyes dry and getting frustrated when more tears spilled.

Akutagawa, for his part, was looking around the alley, looking as if his skin was being peeled off and clearly looking to run away.

If he ran away though, Atsushi would lose his sense of familiarity, his grounding. He stumbled forward. Scared, an expression Atsushi had never seen on him before, Akutagawa stepped back. 

Akutagawa had, embarrassingly, seen Atsushi cry before. So his disturbed act was a little confusing. Usually, he’d scoff at him. 

Though perhaps Atsushi looking at him like he was his only lifeline was what had him freaked out. Atsushi shuffled forward. Akutagawa took another step back. Atsushi shuffled forward more, reaching a trembling hand to grip at Akutagawa’s coat. Akutagawa turned wild eyes at Higuchi who looked just as lost. 

“Ple-please, tak-take me,” Atsushi sniffled again, “...home.” Back at the agency, where he was safe, and not confused. Where it was familiar and warm. Where he should’ve talked to Yosano but didn’t and ended up here. 

He couldn’t remember-

“Uh,” Akutagawa said, reaching out a hand, stopping mid-way, and then continuing to awkwardly pat at Atsushi’s hand, perhaps subtly telling him to let the fuck go, “sure?”

“I’ll take care of the rest… I mean we’re almost done since Senpai was so quick!” Higuchi said, lacking her usual bright tone, instead sounding awkward and as if she was covering up that awkwardness.

Atsushi nodded miserably and leaned forward, burying his head in Akutagawa’s coat, trying to keep his focus on his very real, tangible form and not the confusion in his head. Akutagawa coughed.

Higuchi coughed too. Then Atsushi listened to her footsteps leaving, pausing every now and then, but continuing forward anyway.

“Jinko…” Akutagawa coughed again, “Release me, you fool.”

It seemed his confusion had left. And his Akutagawa-ness had come back.

“No,” Atsushi said. Akutagawa reached out both arms and grabbed his shoulders to push him back. Atsushi struggled for a second, before grabbing his wrist. Akutagawa glared at him. Atsushi stared at him.

Akutagawa turned around and started to stomp away, his wrist still in Atsushi’s grasp.

Atsushi stumbled over his feet, half walking and half running to keep up. However, Akutagawa’s quick pace worked in his favor as they arrived at the familiar bricked building in no time. Akutagawa stood in front of the door of the building. Atsushi stood next to him. Akutagawa gestured to the door. Atsushi stared at him.

“Walk.” Akutagawa said through gritted teeth, “Through.”

But…

But Atsushi had just been outside these doors last time… he’d gotten out, and walked to his apartment… and then it had been night and he’d been sobbing in a payphone booth, hoping Dazai would come soon.

Atsushi’s grip tightened. Akutagawa glared at him as if he was everything wrong in the world, but opened the door and walked in, anyway. Atsushi’s grip tightened more, causing Akutagawa, who was about to stop walking in the cafe, to falter for a second before he continued on. Up the stairs, through the hallway… and in front of the doors.

Akutagawa opened the door, ripped his wrist out of Atsushi's grip, and pushed him in.

He was greeted by looks of relief.

“Atsushi…” Kyouka’s voice came. He turned towards her. She was looking at him with concern, glancing at where Akutagawa had stood only seconds ago.

“I’m-I’m fine,” Atsushi tried to smile. Her frown deepened. “I, uh, I got lost.”

“Lost?” Junichiro chimed in, looking equally confused and relieved.

“Yeah… uh…” He didn’t have to make up an excuse as Naomi spoke up.

“I see,” she said, giving him a shaky smile that betrayed her own worries, “we never really gave you a proper tour of Yokohama. How silly of us!”

Kunikida, who had been looking between him and Ranpo, coughed once. “Yes, that was forgetful of us. I will add it to our schedule.”

Like that the tension…. Well, it didn’t break. It still lingered. But it seemed everyone was willing to give him space. He appreciated it. He needed to work up the courage to tell Yosano that he… that something was happening.

He hadn’t been kidnapped…

He hadn’t transformed… it was hard for the tiger to overtake in the middle of the day, like today. 

So…

It wasn’t as if Atsushi’s memory was strong. Heck, he hadn’t even remembered he’d killed someone before. At least until Shibusawa had somehow come back to life and had to be killed again. But that had been a traumatic experience and everyone had said it was probably an subconscious attempt to bury it because he couldn’t emotionally or mentally handle it at the time. But what was traumatic about walking?

Atsushi hesitantly walked towards Yosano’s office.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

Hii could we have a part 2 of Should've of when the reader finally wakes up from her coma 👉🏽👈🏽

Yep! Hope you enjoy it!

Should've (Gojo x Reader) Part II

You wake up after your heart stops

CW: swearing, mentions of death, angst to fluff, kissing

Part One | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

When you slowly open your eyes, you are thirsty. Moving to sit up, you find that you can't because something is on your chest. Looking down, you find a plethora of wires connecting you to various machines, but that wasn't what was stopping you from moving.

No. You couldn't move because your boyfriend of three years was sleeping with his head on your chest. When you move to brush his disheveled hair back from his face - did he let it air dry? It normally isn't this curly - he shot up.

"Sweetheart?"

"Hi. Are you - umph"

You were cut off by him burying his face in your hair as he pressed your face into his chest.

Starting to open your mouth, you pause as you notice he's trembling, his whole body shaking as he quietly sobs into your hair.

After sitting like this for a couple minutes, your worry builds up until you tentatively nudge him back a bit, so you can look at his face. He looks terrible, with puffy red eyes and eye bags so deep they look like makeup.

"Hey, hey, baby, what's going on, what happened? Last I remember I was on my mission-"

You stop as your memories begin to return.

"Wait, I was badly injured, right? Is that what's going on? You were worried?"

He nods, tears filling his eyes again as he looks down at you lying in the hospital bed.

"Well, you don't have to worry. I'm okay now. I didn't die-"

"You did."

"Huh?"

He spoke so quietly that you couldn't hear him.

"Could you say that again for me 'Toru?"

"You died."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your heart stopped. Shoko had to resuscitate you. I thought-"

He breaks down sobbing, unable to control himself. Scooching over, you gently tug on his arm until he lays down on the bed next to you. Wrapping your arms around him, you run your hands up and down his back as he sobs into your chest.

"Shhh. Shhh. It's okay."

You soothed, trying to calm him down. You were scared; you had never seen him like this before. Normally he kept his emotions locked deep inside of him. He never broke down, and if he did, certainly not to this extent.

"It's-It's not."

He choked past his tears.

"You were gone. Your heart wasn't beating. You were dead. And I couldn't- I couldn't help. I wasn't there to protect you like I promised. I failed you. You could have slipped away from me, and I wouldn't have been able to stop it. All I could think about was how I should've told you I loved you more, been a better boyfriend."

He rambled on as you held him tighter, knowing he needed to get this out of his system.

"I should've kept my promises. Should've protected you. Should've been there to take that hit for you. Should've made you my wife like I promised myself after our first date. Should've held you tighter while I could-"

"Satoru."

You breathed out cutting him off.

"Even if I had died,"

A low pained whine escaped him, as if the very words physically hurt him.

Taking a deep breath you continued as he squirmed up in your grasp and buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling you in.

"Even if I had, which I didn't, I would have died knowing that you love me with everything in you. For fucks sake babe, you only tell me about a million times a day."

You chuckled, and you felt him huff against your neck.

"Hey, look up at me real quick."

Planting a kiss on your skin, he tilted his head up so he could meet your eyes.

"I need you to listen to me. This is important."

He nods.

"Gojo Satoru. I did not die. I am right here with you. That's where I am going to be for as long as you want me to. Because you love me with everything in you, and I know that. And I love you with every part of my heart. Everything in me belongs to you. You got that?"

"Yes."

He breathes, looking up at you, an unidentifiable emotion glittering in his swollen eyes.

"As for everything else, I'm still alive, so you can do all of those things. You can hold me as tight as you want. You can protect me, you can make me your wife, you can do anything you want., with one exception."

Your gaze hardened.

"You are not allowed to take a hit for me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. So how about we make a deal: I don't take hits for you, and you won't take hits for me. Deal?"

He opened his mouth to protest.

"I said, deal."

"Deal."

He grumbled, burying his head back into the crook of your neck.

After a few minutes, he slid up so you were eye to eye and cupped your cheek in one big hand.

"Did you mean what you said?"

"About what?"

"That I could make you my wife?"

You nod, smiling softly at him.

"I did."

"Then, would you make me the happiest person ever, and let me marry you once you're free to leave this bed?"

"Yes."

You breathed, giving him a kiss."

"One million times yes."

Note: That got a lot cheesier than I expected, sorry about that lmao. Also, my requests box is open for anyone who is interested!

[arch3ontumbl]

World Bearer Part 1

Bearing his child as he was fighting in Shibuya

It wasn't intended neither it was accident, the child you caress in your womb, it was the result of love. A couple of days earlier barely even recalling the dates, news came unto you as Shoko informed you of Gojo captured, impossible..

He promised

He always promises y/n, you thought to yourself having filled with worry and doubt this time the result would be different, this time he wouldn't be able to be by your side, the last smile he gave you, the last kiss, it floods all to your every bit of sanity left.

You wept unsure of what to do, this is bad for your child. It's stressing you out knowing you can't do anything and you can't ask anyone about it. It pains you that you cannot be beside him nor come to his rescue, you carry the world inside you and you can't risk to lose any of which.

Your whole relationship with him was hidden deeper than 6 feet graves could even speak, only Shoko were informed and were supposed to be the only person besides him to assist you on giving birth.

'missed a call from Shoko'

You missed her first call as you were to focused on picking up some shards of glass, you dropped the mug you and Gojo share for every morning coffee.

Broken. You struggle to bend down as your belly bump is clearly on the way, you stood up and checked your phone to your surprise

Is it finally good news

You called back as she picked up in a hurry, she seemed to hesitate to tell, she hesitated to cause anymore stress than to bear the very weight of the next possibly most powerful sorcerer to mankind in the next generation. Even the weight of the child causes a wave of imbalance in the world between curses and the burden of being expected to be the sword and shield for the most dangerous circumstances awaits your child if his birth were to be exposed and known to the world.

It's what Gojo went through afterall

"y/n listen, Gojo is out now and currently facing curses and possibly Sakuna. I am called for support for the sorcerers in Shibuya—" she paused for what seemed eternity, fueling my anxiety and worry.

"y/n I just wanted to tell you to worry a bit less, he told me to relay you his message: I'd win, I'd be there when our son is born. I'm the strongest afterall" Shoko whispered to the phone as I let out a little chuckle still with a hint of nervous yet comfort. Atleast feel a little ease for the child you bear, for the child you birth with Gojo beside you.

"Thank you Shoko" I whispered back, your voice crack and break devours the silence of the room.

2 hours pass, and shit you feel building up contractions, painfully telling you your world is about to arrive. You rush to get some lukewarm water, a damp towel, quickly sterilize some scissors and a warm blanket

Yet he is not here, he's in battle, fighting

Unable to contact anyone else you try to reach for Shoko again. Afraid, you're just straight up afraid. Your timing your contractions yourself as you lay down your soft bed sheets, slowly painting it with blood. Gojo is in his battlefield and so are you, you combat the pain as you try to push harder and harder not trying to pass out on the way.

One

Two

Three

You push, again

One

Two

You push, you can't stop here. Your child needs to get out now

You gave another hard push screaming your lungs out, cursing, fist balled in the sheets as the other scratched the bed board.

Finally, a cry

Don't faint, don't faint

You pick yourself up, positioning yourself to sit back at the bed frame for support. Picking up your child and expertly cutting his umbilical cord before you could finally fix your eyes on your child you made sure to hear his heart beat, your scared you did a step wrong.

But his heart beat as loud as he cried, you admire your child clearly reassembling your husband. His hair and the same goes for his eye lashes, white as snow, his eyes with a hint of you a hue of purple and mainly the blue skies, high and mighty, adding the captivating and deep capture of the ocean you admire from Gojo.

You cried, as your child slept in your arms. A call notifies your phone enough for you to immediately answer before it wakes up your son.

"He's here" you said as Shoko could picture your smile from the phone call before she could even speak a word, her seconds of silence sends you a break of her heart like she's about to break another bad news for you.

[grandmother-goblin]

Dialogue Punctuation Cheat Sheet

This is just a friendly little guide on how to use punctuation in dialogue since (at least for me) this isn’t something that I was taught in school and had to learn on my own. That being said, I am not an expert! I don’t have an English degree or anything like that! I’m just an avid reader and writer and wanted to share what I have learned in a concise format.

A lot of this information is from “How to Write Dazzling Dialogue: The Fastest Way to Improve Any Manuscript” by James Scott Bell, “The Best Punctuation Book, Period” by June Casagrande, and “The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation” by Jane Straus, Lester Kaufman, and Tom Stern. If you’re able to get these books, I highly recommend them!

(Also, yes I used Disney quotes for most of my examples lol)

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Rule 1: Dialogue punctuation includes the following:

Period

Comma

Question mark

Exclamation point

Em-dash

Ellipsis

All dialogue will include some sort of punctuation before the closing quotation. 

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Rule 2: Punctuation goes inside the quotes.

Correct

“Do you want to build a snowman?” Anna asked.

Correct

“You can’t marry a man you just met,” Elsa said.

Incorrect

“Do you want to build a snowman”? Anna asked.

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Rule 3: Don’t capitalize a pronoun used for dialogue attribution.

Correct

“I was hiding under your porch because I love you,” he said.

Incorrect

“I was hiding under your porch because I love you,” He said.

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Rule 4: Capitalize for action beats.

Correct

“A llama? He’s supposed to be dead!” She slammed her fist on the table.

Incorrect 

“A llama? He’s supposed to be dead!” she slammed her fist on the table.

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Rule 5: Use a comma when introducing a quotation, such as when dialogue attribution comes at the beginning. The first word of the dialogue is capitalized.

Correct

Scar leaned forward and said, “Run away, Simba.”

Incorrect

Scar leaned forward and said. “Run away, Simba.”

Incorrect

Scar leaned forward and said, “run away, Simba.”

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Rule 6: Use single quotation marks for quotations within quotations. Punctuation goes inside both quotations (I’ve heard this can vary depending on country).

Correct

“My father said, ‘Everything the light touches is our kingdom.’”

Incorrect 

“My father said, ‘Everything the light touches is our kingdom’.”

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Rule 7: If there are two or more sentences, the speaker attribution should be put before or after the first complete phrase.

Correct

Grandmother said, “Great. She brings home a sword. If you ask me, she should’ve brought home a man.”

Correct

“Great,” Grandmother said. “She brings home a sword. If you ask me, she should’ve brought home a man.”

Incorrect

“Great. She brings home a sword. If you ask me, she should’ve brought home a man,” Grandmother said.

(Note: This is a rule I break all the time, but I thought I would include it in this list anyway! Usually when the first sentence or two are very, very, short and go together, but they still need that “breath” of a dialogue tag in between. But it’s a good thing to be aware of!) 

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Rule 8: Use commas to interrupt a complete sentence with a dialogue attribution. Don’t capitalize the next word after the comma. 

Correct

“Aren’t you,” Hercules said, “a damsel in distress?”

Incorrect

“Aren’t you,” Hercules said, “A damsel in distress?”

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Rule 9: Use ellipses to illustrate a character trailing off, showing hesitation, or a pause.

“Aren’t you… a damsel in distress?”

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Rule 10: Em-dashes can be used for interruptions, indicating simultaneous actions that do not cause an interruption, or a change in thought/tone. Don’t use dialogue attribution after an em-dash.

Another Person Interrupts

Correct

“He would never do anything to hurt me. He—”

Hades threw up his hands. “He’s a guy!”

Correct

Meg said, “He would never do anything to hurt me. He—”

Hades threw up his hands. “He’s a guy!”

Incorrect

“He would never do anything to hurt me. He—” Meg said.

Hades threw up his hands. “He’s a guy!”

Self Interruption

“I—” Hercules reached into his pocket and pulled out a small doll. “I’m an action figure!"

Simultaneous Action

“I am surrounded” — Scar dragged his paw over his face — “by idiots.” 

Change In Thought/Tone

“It’s not that you’re awkward. I’m awkward. You’re gorgeous — wait, what?”

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Other Notes (these might just be my personal preferences, feel free to ignore)

Don’t use semi-colons in dialogue. Use a period instead.

Use exclamation points sparingly. Extremely sparingly. Maybe once per 10k words or even less.

After using an ellipsis, saying “he/she trailed off” is redundant. Just skip to the next action. The ellipsis already implies someone trailed off.

New speaker (or character action that serves as a response) = New paragraph.

“Said” should be your most commonly used dialogue tag. Any dialogue tag other than “said” or “asked” will stick out to the reader, and should be used sparingly.

If there is anything I missed, got wrong, or should add, PLEASE KINDLY LET ME KNOW! Again, I don’t have an English degree, I’m not a professional, and I’m actually a bit of a pea-brain, but these are the general rules that I know of and follow in my writing.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Minecraft Part 2

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Alien: *Observes ruined remains of once proud city Alien: What happened? Human: There was a spider and in my attempts to kill it things got out of hand. Alien: How does trying to kill a spider destroy your whole city? Human: I tried using fire. Alien: How much fire? Human: *Points to several dozen lava buckets used* Human: I want to say all the fire. ---------------------

Alien: Am I meeting you at your base? Human: Nah, I lost that one so I had to build a new one. Alien: Wait, how did you lose it? Human: Turns out piglin’s can walk through the ender portal into the above world. Alien: So? Alien: It’s not a problem if you- Alien: …….. Alien: wait, you didn’t seal off your portal room? Human: I did not. -------------------------

Alien: *walking through dying npc village* Alien: Wasn’t this place thriving last time we were here? Human: Yeah; probably fell apart when I diverted the river. Alien: You what?! Human: I didn’t like how it looked so I blocked it off and shifted it in a different direction. Alien: What gives you the right to destroy this innocent town? Human: Innocent? Human: Have you seen their trading rates? Human: Why would I pay 15 emeralds for an iron pickaxe? -----------------------

Alien: Why are you hiding? Human: I am being hunted by the deadliest creature in the game. Alien: *Intrigued* What is that? Human: *Points at looming shadow* There…. *Shadow takes shape and reveals itself to be a frog* Alien: Seriously? Frog: Ribbit. *Frog opens its mouth and shoots out to alien* *Tongue latches on to alien and eat him* Human: They never listen…… --------------------------

Alien: What the hell is this? Human: It’s my home. Alien: It’s made of dirt. Human: So? Alien: Why in the sixteen hells would you make your house out of dirt? Human: I mean, it’s everywhere. Alien: So are fraking trees! -----------------------------

Human: BEHOLD! Human: A TOWN MADE OUT OF IRON! Alien: Seems like a waste of iron. Alien: Why did you make this? Human: Because I wanted to make the golems protecting the town have an existential crisis as they ponder the question “Are we made out of the town, or is the town made out of us?” Alien: By the gods you should not be left alone with your thoughts for long. ------------------------------

Alien: *Finishes building village in middle of a lake* Alien: Finally! Alien: No mobs will be able to make it across the water to reach them! Human: Um…. Human: You do know about the underwater zombies, right? Alien: I’m sorry, the what? *Trident goes flying past head as swarms of underwater zombies emerge* -----------------------------

Alien: Why did you spend three weeks rearranging the landscape? Human: So I can go on long walks through it. Alien: That’s it? Alien: How can that possibly be worth the effort? Human: Join me and see. *Pair proceed to walk down a long intricate pathway with different color trees, rivers and waterfalls, mountain ranges and rolling hills* Alien: Damn. Alien: That was peaceful. Human: I know, right? -----------------------------

Alien: What are you doing? Human: Trading with the piglins. Alien: Why? Human: It’s fascinating watching them when you throw gold at them. Alien: Didn’t they destroy your city my swarming through the open ender portal? Human: Yes. Alien: And you’ve forgiven them for that? Human: Oh no. Human: I plan on sealing up their home area later on and then pouring buckets of lava into it from the highest places and watching them run, scream, and beg for their lives before the all-consuming flames devour their flesh. Human: But right now I find them amusing so I think I’ll pause on that plan for a day or two. Alien: ……………….. Alien: What your gods must think of you when they see such casual malice. Human: They learned long ago to leave us be. For we have learned that they topple just as easily as their temples, and their names cast to the sands of time beneath our feet.