#but I might have something special later for the occasion ;)

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

It’s now been 3 months since this fucking twink officially showed up in Hazbin and the brain rot still persists :)

[aturinfortheworse]

I read a fair number of recipes on the ten thousand interchangeable recipe blogs that exist, and often they say something like "This recipe is a family favourite!" or "This a crowd-pleaser" etc. and I roll my eyes a little bit every time because of course they are, it goes without saying! People like food! Nearly any special-occasion home-cooked meal is going to be popular.

But there is one recipe, one cake, that has recontextualised all those comments for me and now actually I think those bloggers might be wrong about what a family favourite is. It sure as hell isn't Interchangeable Chocolate Cake No. 7.

I'm telling you this because I need you to know the seriousness of the power I am going to bestow on you. And hey, maybe your friends and family have different preferences than mine do. Maybe you need to find another recipe to fill this role. But you must know that there's a recipe out there, and not even a particularly alluring one or a particularly difficult one, which people will bring up in unrelated conversations to you four years later.

If I so much as say the word cake, my family all turn to face me like a pack of hungry wolves. Even the ones that don't like food!! Health nuts and people who simply don't enjoy eating and people with no appetite and people I have no goddamn memory of ever having cooked for, all of them come up and say to me "Hey remember that cake-" I asked my brother and his girlfriend what foods they're looking forward to, when they return home after three years in Japan, and they say "You know that cake?"

It doesn't sound particularly appetizing. I only made it the first time because it was gluten free and I had a bunch of lemons. Please don't let the name inform your opinion here. This is a fairly fast and simple cake that requires no special equipment and people will literally never stop asking you for it.

It's not even my favourite cake! I'd rather have basque burnt cheesecake, which is harder and more expensive to make and consists almost entirely of fat and sugar but still manages to be a little savoury... But people want the weird corn one.

To be fair, this is the only cake that'll make me dip my fingers into boiling sugar without regret.

[pedrospatch]

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside. 

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 

Could Frank actually be right? 

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. 

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

 Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in. 

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…” 

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. 

But he was yours too.

[luveline]

I am so incredibly sick rn and desperately craving some Hotch comfort—maybe bau!gf who desperately tries to hide the fact that she’s sick even when she’s burning up and can’t keep her eyes open, and Hotch who just wants to take care of her!!

thank you for your request! i hope you feel better soon. —hotch fights to take care of you when you hide a fever. fem!reader, 1.4k

Spencer knows you're sick, but he's the only one who's figured it out so far. Everybody else is too busy. 

He pushes your coffee toward him and exchanges it for a cup of water without saying anything. You're relieved to find it's ice cold, fighting to drink it without spilling it, or worse, pressing it to your furnace of a forehead. 

"Just go home," he says. 

"I like it here," you say lightly.

"You're fatigued, obviously running a fever, and probably disoriented if your eyes are anything to go off of." 

"Are they?" you ask, eyes fluttering closed. 

You prop yourself on your hand. Having a desk right next to Spencer has its ups and downs. Ups including physics magic, surprise trinkets, and all the donuts you can eat. Downs include this —he's too good at his job but bad at taking a hint, so while he's realised that you're sick and tired and should probably head home, he hasn't stopped to think you might be keeping it a secret for a reason. 

If you take more sick leave already after your week long bout of food poisoning only a fortnight ago, it will look like you're trying to take advantage of Hotch. You don't want the team thinking you're cheating and you don't want Hotch to think this is how it’s going to be. You’d never use him like that, but it’s so early into the relationship that there’s no way for him to know that for sure. 

You take a measured breath. You're the kind of sick that yearns for bed, head heavy, a pounding pain behind your eyebrows and a nose you can't breathe through. Your lips are chapped despite the thick layer of balm you applied that morning. The weight of a bowling ball rests in your sinuses. Your head begins to list forward. 

"Y/N?" 

You look up, rubbing your forehead as nonchalantly as you can manage. Hotch stands with a hand on the railing of his half-platform, eyebrows pulled together as they tend to be. 

You like the sound of your name on his lips, even if it's said with question. 

"Yeah?" you ask. 

Before, it would've been, Yes, sir? But Hotch told you (while in boyfriend mode, assumedly) that it makes him hot around the collar (though he'd said it more delicately), so now you save it for special occasions, like when you want to get your way, and when he looks especially perturbed.

"Something wrong?" he asks. 

He can't like the way you say, "I'm fine," maybe he spots the far-away look in your eyes, your poorly concealed wince as your head throbs, maybe he just knows you. He gives you a look bordering reproachful and turns away. 

"My office," he says.  

Spencer sends you a pointed look. When he realises you aren't awake enough to glare back, he nudges you encouragingly. "Be honest," Spencer says. 

You almost fall up the short steps to the landing in front of Hotch's office. You don't knock before entering, and later you'll realise how odd this is. Hotch hasn't even sat down, instead straightening a paper from the wrong side of the desk. 

"What's wrong? Another migraine?" he asks. 

"No. I'm alright, did you want something?" 

He turns around fully. You like seeing him after hours without his suit, arms behind his tired neck and eyes half-lidded, but this look is just as good on him: furrowed brows, a hand twitching toward you but not touching. He tries not to cross the line here at work because when it starts it never ends. Your evaluations have to be cross examined and approved by a higher up, you are not permitted to room together on cases, and you have to report to HR every three to six weeks to reaffirm that Hotch isn't being coercive. It's odd and invasive at times, but these are things you have to do to be together. You'd do worse. 

"Did I want something?" he asks. It's more patient than incredulous, but the incredulity is definitely there. 

"From me?" 

"I want lots of things from you." He breaks eye contact with you and turns back to his things, shuffling papers into a manila folder. You blink dozily, wanting a hug and needing him to let you go back to your desk lest you give in and lean against his broad chest. "Like for you to take care of yourself." 

"I'm fine." 

"Forgive me if this is something I shouldn't say, but you don't look okay. You look sick." 

You summon your most convincing smile even while his back is turned and enthuse your tone with some practised pep. "Well, it's not the most romantic thing in the world." 

He ties the cord on his manilla envelope and clicks open his briefcase. It's a testament to how sick you are that you didn't notice it there, nor his coat thrown over the edge of the desk. 

"You going somewhere?" you ask curiously. 

"I'm taking you home, honey." 

You shake your head. "No, you're not. I'm fine." 

Hotch puts his coat on regardless. Briefcase closed and in hand, he walks the short distance to you and scans your expression for any give. "Let's go home." 

"Hotch–" 

"Home," he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "No more 'Hotch'." 

You take a step back but not one more than that, startled by his readiness to leave, and his reluctance to believe you. You're a bad actor and he's trained in the art of untangling deception —it isn't going to work. You give it a valiant effort. 

"You don't have the resources to give me the day off. You definitely don't have the resources to take a day off with me, and that's fine because I'm not sick." You rub your face clean, dust off your work blouse. "I have a headache, it's not so bad." 

Hotch actually smiles, then. You worked for him for three months before you realised he could. It isn't what you're expecting. It disarms you.

"Liar," he says, ducking down to give you a kiss. He sounds amused and sorry at once, an impossible combination marked by his small smile and his protective hand at your elbow. 

Every kiss is like a shock. Not because Hotch is particularly abrasive to the senses, the opposite —it feels right. 

"I'm not lying," you say.

"Take the day off with me, then." 

He knows he's being a bit of a bastard, evidenced by his smile, but he sobers for your sake. "You're lying to me, but that's not what matters. I can feel your head like a flame and I'm not even touching it. And you've kept your secret well, honey, but Reid's a good friend." 

"What did he tell you?" you murmur. 

"You fell asleep for sixteen seconds." 

"When?" you ask in disbelief.

"A couple of minutes before I called for you." Hotch squeezes your arm. 

"If we go home you'll have so much work to do when we come back," you lament. 

"It'll be the same as any other day," he says. He's slipped into his most dulcet tone, the kind he uses with family. "I am… desperate, to take care of you. I can't do that here. Please oblige me and let me do it at home." 

"Oblige you?" you ask. 

"Being your boyfriend isn't working. I thought I would try boss instead." 

You relent, finally. You genuinely can't abstain from him anymore, not when he's being as ridiculously charming and gentle as he is, his hand steadying at your elbow. Plus, your brain is probably gonna explode inside of your skull any second now if your headache is anything to go by. You drop your face into his chest and sigh, relieved when his hand moves to your shoulder, and his cheek presses to the top of your head. 

"This is inappropriate," you mumble. 

"You're really not well, hm?" he asks, just as quietly. "I'd be negligent if I didn't take notice. Doubly negligent if I didn't take you home." 

"Human resources…" You mean to say more. He's solid, he wants to hug you, and he smells like his expensive cologne. Hotch has a presence about him that's automatically comforting once you overcome the intimidating. Sometimes, even, the intimidating helps it along. You feel sheltered by his arms. Totally safe. It's probably why you nearly pass out in his embrace right there and then. 

"Okay," he says, rubbing your back. "Alright. I'll let human resources know your complaint, honey, don't worry. Let's get you to the car." 

[illyrianbitch]

One Summer — Part Nine

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, marijuana usage, sweet dirty talk and praise, fingering, oral, p in v, fluffy sex <3

if you’re uncomfortable with smut, this chapter can be skipped with no impact on the plot <3 it can also be read as a stand-alone if desired.

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist |

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

It was nine at night and you and Az were the only two in the house.

Rhys had made reservations for him and Feyre at an upscale restaurant half an hour away, a place where his father used to take his mother on special occasions. You'd been nosy and googled it. It was the kind of place with candlelit tables and a string quartet in the corner, where the waitstaff wore tuxedos and addressed you by title.

Mor and Cassian were out, too. The twins they’d met at Summit were staying in some house twenty minutes away and throwing a huge party. They tried to drag you and Az along, but the idea of squeezing into a crowded house with a bunch of strangers didn’t really compare to the night you had in mind. So you and Azriel had politely declined, both secretly craving something more enjoyable—smoking a fat joint and enjoying the quiet, just the two of you.

You sat on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs idly as Az finished preparing your snacks— the main thing that brought you both to the kitchen to begin with. Your mouth was still slightly dry from the joint, that earthy aftertaste still lingering in the back of your throat.

“This isn’t a conspiracy theory because it’s like, an actual thing,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “But I love the fact that so many of those sea monsters we read about were probably just whale penises.”

Azriel stilled, turning to look at you with an amused brow. “What?”

You nodded emphatically, cheeks aching from the deep smile still on your face. “People would see these giant, weird things sticking out of the water and think it was some sort of sea serpent or whatever, but it was actually just a whale showing off it’s huge dick.”

Azriel held your gaze for a moment before he burst out into laughter. The sound dissipated throughout the room and you swore it made it lighter, made the kitchen glow with a sense of life it didn't have a few moments prior. You weren't sure how it was possible, but somehow your smile grew even wider.

There was something about Azriel’s laugh that felt energizing, especially when you were high. It was something far more than just a sensory experience. You watched as he shook his head, the curls on his hair moving as his eyes found yours again. Slightly puffy, bright with amusement.

“I have to show you. It’s crazy.” You moved to grab your phone from its current place face-down on the counter next to you.

Azriel reached out and covered your hand with his. “Nooo.”

“Az, you have to.”

“Later, maybe.” His expression softened as he looked at you, the laughter fading into a tender smile. “But first, taste test time.”

You sat up straighter, looking down at the plate in front of him. “They’re ready?”

You’d had a specific craving—something sweet, gooey, and crunchy. Azriel had taken it upon himself to make your dream come true. He made do with what was in the pantry, melting down marshmallows and making a pan of small home-made rice krispy bars. He’d covered them with Nutella, rolling them up like some delicacy you’d find in a high-end bakery.

His smile widened, and without a word, he held one out for you. You eagerly accepted it, your fingers brushing against his before you brought the treat to your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed, and a moan left your lips as the sweet, rich flavors exploded on your tongue.

“How is it?”

You nodded, head bobbing as you took another gluttonous bite.

“It’s perfect,” you said, finally finding the strength to open your eyes and look at him. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

He chuckled softly, watching as you took another bite. “Yeah?”

You nodded again. “You could be a chef. I would pay you to stay in the kitchen, looking all pretty and making food for me.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “So a trophy chef.”

You grinned. “Exactly.”

He laughed again, bringing his hands to either side of your thighs as he leaned in closer. “What happened to me being a spy, huh?”

You shrugged lightheartedly. “That too. Honestly, Az, you could be anything you wanted.”

He narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing slightly, the corners of his lips still curved in that half-smile that made your heart skip.

“Because I can make little treats?” He asked.

You cocked your head at him, running your gaze over his face. “Because you’re so good at putting yourself to the task at hand.”

Azriel blinked, and the crease between his brows softened. You watched as something crossed through his face, something wistful and warm.

“What?” you asked when he didn't speak.

“Nothing.”

You let your thoughts wander as you finished the treat in your hand. Everyone seemed to have a clear idea of what they wanted— or, at least, an idea of where their ambitions lied. But Azriel was different. He was like you. Hesitant, unsure. Back in freshman year, he’d taken a few criminology classes he loved. He had a passion then, but as the years went by you assumed he’d switched gears, choosing to focus on his general education classes instead. Azriel understood the pressure of fitting into a mold you weren't entirely sure about.

“What do you wanna do, Az?”

Azriel’s face grew thoughtful, his gaze scanning your face as if searching for something. His eyes flickered and then a smile, slow and soft, spread across his lips. He leaned in just a fraction closer. “I want to kiss you.”

You felt a rush of heat and looked down at your lap, nervously brushing your hands together. “That’s not what I meant.”

Azriel lifted your chin with a delicate finger, bringing your gaze to his. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes playfully. “No?”

His gaze flicked to somewhere below your eyes. A second later, he brought his thumb to the corners of your lips, gently wiping away what you knew was probably excess chocolate.You inhaled sharply and felt something deep in your chest – something like a wire strung tight, ready to sing with the slightest touch. You’d been craving him for so long now. You could feel that familiar sensation, that burning desire simmering low in your gut. The way those damn grey sweatpants hung on his hips didn’t help matters either.

His touch lingered on your skin, hovering just above your bottom lip. Before he could pull his hand away, you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking off the remaining chocolate.

Azriel’s breath hitched, lips parting in surprise. The low groan that left his lips next invigorated you, pushing you to bring your tongue around his thumb, swirling and sucking on it. When he met your gaze, you slowly released it, and he traced it along your bottom lip as a shaky breath escaped him.

“We have the house to ourselves."

With darkened eyes, Az ran his thumb along your lips again, swallowing hard. You traced the motion down the column of his throat. Before you could fully register the loss of his touch, his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You gasped as he positioned himself between your legs, and instinctively, you wrapped them around him.

"Az.."

He closed the gap between you, lips crashing against yours as he kissed you deeply. You weren't sure if you'd ever get used to it. Perhaps it was a very strong honeymoon period, that the way Az kissed you felt magical because it had only been two weeks of this. But you felt starved, felt as if you needed more and more of him to satiate you— yet even still, you were insatiable.

You nipped at his lower lip, moved yourself to press against him further. You let him take the lead, letting out a breathy moan against his lips at the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. His kisses moved from your lips to your neck and you arched into him, welcomed him with a bared throat and a tug to his curls. His touch was everywhere at once—his hands roaming over your back, his lips trailing down your collarbone. Your body sang with every movement, with the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

You could feel the heat of his breath against you as he nipped and kissed his way to your ear.

“Do we want to go upstairs?”

You nodded before words could form. Nodded as you tangled your fingers further into his hair, nodded as you pulled him to your face, bringing him into another kiss. "Yes," you whispered between breaths. “Yes, please."

Azriel’s smile brushed against your skin as he kissed you back.

You made your way up the stairs, every step wobbly and uncoordinated as Az attempted to lead you both, lips still locked, his hands around your waist and yours around his neck.

"Shit." Azriel cursed as he bumped against the well, the pictures frames rattling with the impact. You pulled back, steadying yourself against the wall as your laughter bubbled up.

"Az," you playfully scolded through a breath, "You're going to knock everything down."

He only shushed you with a mischievous smile, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you back into his orbit. Another frame tilted askew as he maneuvered you both along. You pulled away for a moment, your gaze falling to the framed photo in front of you, the one you'd come to love so dearly. It got better every time you saw it, from the pizza in Mor's braces to the nauseatingly sweet frame of awkward fifteen year old Azriel.

"I love this photo," you said, pointing to it with a delicate smile. "Look at you."

Azriel glanced at it, his face scrunching in mock horror. "That’s a horrendous photo," he said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. He broke apart, shaking his head against yours. "Don’t look at it."

"But Az—"

"Don’t look!" He insisted, and you laughed into his kiss.

"I love hearing you laugh," Azriel murmured against your lips, "And that I'm the one causing it." He kissed you again. "But right now," he said, his voice dropping to a low, heated murmur, "I’d much rather be making you moan.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You melted into his touch, feeling your skin set alight as his hands roamed, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that tasted of deep desire, something sweet and smoky like longing. The touch of a lover craving another.

You stumbled together into your room— the nearest one to the stairs, and the door slammed shut behind you. Azriel fumbled with the strings of his waistband, fingers slipping as he struggled to undo the knot.

"Ah, fuck," he said, voice still tinged with that sense of amusement, that laugh still in his tone. A few seconds later, his sweats were halfway down his leg, tangling around his ankles as he tried to kick them off.

"Careful," you warned, trying to stifle your laughter. Azriel then watched, amused, as you struggled to pull off your shirt, the fabric snagging on your earrings. And when you'd managed to free yourself, your hands were on him, slipping under his shirt, curious fingers skimming over the hard planes of his stomach. You tugged the fabric over his head, taking in the grin that played on his lips.

The shirt sailed through the air, landing haphazardly on your bedside lamp. You and Az laughed, a shared sound that he swallowed as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands were on you, guiding you back, and you were both still laughing as you fell back onto your bed in a tangle of limbs, all clothes besides his underwear long removed and thrown in a corner. Azriel leaned over you, face flushed, eyes filled with warmth.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You laughed, biting your lip as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your noses almost touched. "Hey," you repeated, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I really like you."

Azriel's voice was soft, a whisper that felt as soulful as a Sunday confession. It caressed your skin, made your heart flutter and core clench.

"Good to know," you said with a dainty smile. "I like you too."

A smile broke out across Az's face and you brought a trailing hand to feel the dimples on his cheeks, tracing the smile lines etched into his skin. You were completely naked below him now. Strangely, you'd never felt this comfortable, never felt so at ease. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the chain necklace hanging around his neck. You played with it absentmindedly, feeling the smooth links sliding between your fingers.

You tugged at it lightly as you murmured, "And I also like this."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, still running your fingers along the chain, feeling the heat of his skin just beneath it. You weren't sure how it was possible for a piece of jewelry to be so attractive, for simple metal to make you picture the dirtiest of images. But it was. And you had been. You weren't ashamed to admit that you'd imagined how it would feel dangling in your face as Az pounded into you. You finally met his eyes and nodded, breathless despite having done nothing but trace the cool metal around his neck. "Yeah."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, the playful warmth in them shifting into something deeper, hungrier. His smile curved into a smirk. "Good," he rasped, and your breath hitched at the intensity in his voice.

His lips were on yours again. Gone was the soft, teasing rhythm from before. Now, his mouth was hot and demanding, as if he were starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. The sudden switch from sweet to searing made your heart race. You tugged on the chain again, more forcefully this time, and he growled in response, fingers eagerly tracing the outline of your body. You shivered with each touch, with each drag of his hands across your skin.

His hand found your breast, exposed to the cool air, and you shuddered as his ridged fingers tweaked your nipple. You arched beneath him and he paused for a moment, lips hovering just above yours.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered.

Your mind raced, the words catching in your throat as you tried to form a coherent thought. You wanted him everywhere, wanted him to explore you for hours, to ruin you for the touch of anyone else. You shook your head, breathing heavily, trying with all your might to summon an answer.

"I-I don't know."

He shook his head, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in invitation. He said something else, something quieter and alluring, a sentence probing you to answer, to think.

"Please just touch me," you managed to breathe as your gaze bounced between his eyes. "I just want you to touch me."

Azriel's lips curved into a satisfied smile. “Like this?” he asked, beginning to move down as his hand slid down your exposed stomach.

“Yes,” you said, your body reacting to his touch. “And kiss me."

"Kiss you where?"

He was beneath your navel now, the trail of his path wet with the open kisses he'd left. You took a shaky breath. "Everywhere."

He chuckled softly against the bare skin of your leg. “Everywhere, huh?”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express how much you wanted him. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers threading through the dark curls as he continued to explore. He leaned, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the very top of your thigh, just shy of where you needed him, where your body ached for him. But just as you thought he might give you what you were silently begging for, he pulled back. His lips began a slow journey upward, leaving you yearning, the frustration building with each inch he traveled.

He paused just above your mouth, sharing a breath as he looked down at you. "I've thought about this for so long," he murmured, "How I wanted to touch you first, the ways I wanted you to fall apart."

You released a sound in response, needy and pleading. You’d spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to be with Azriel, to see the side of him he reserved for only a few. You’d wondered how his touch might feel—gentle, reverent, like a lover tracing sacred ground. You'd thought of him worshiping your body like a saint, his hands gliding over your bare skin, fantasized about the way his fingers might curl inside you, delicate yet purposeful, stroking the most intimate parts of you until you unraveled beneath him.

“I want to hear all those pretty noises I know you can make,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Can you do that for me?”

But you hadn’t imagined this. You hadn’t expected him to be so talkative, to render you speechless with a single look. The hunger in his eyes made you feel divine, as though he was starving for you, for the taste of you, for the sound of your voice.

You nodded. It was all you could do— barely able to breathe, let alone speak. He smiled like the sun and kissed you again, one hand curving along your shoulder, sliding down your body with painful slowness, a detour around the curve of your breast, a whimper into his mouth.

It felt like hours before his palm slid down the rise of your belly, torturous and tentative. Then finally, his hand slipped between your thighs. He traced the slickness of your core and you gasped in relief, felt as he greedily accepted the sound with his tongue.

There was something profoundly intimate about the way Azriel's eyes locked with yours as he worked his fingers inside you, something about how your foreheads rested against each other as he groaned. Az was watching you, observing every reaction to the movements he made. He kissed you throughout it, rotating between staring at you, molding your lips to his, and sucking on that sensitive area of your ear lobe; kissing alongside your neck as he praised you.

"Such a pretty mess," he murmured against your ear. "Does this feel good?"

He added another finger, thumb circling your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut, a desperate moan escaping your lips as the pleasure mounted. Then he was moving, pulling away from you as he descended down your body, following the trail of kisses and marks he'd left before. Azriel shifted his body, positioning himself right before your core, pushing your legs further apart to nestle between them. Your gaze fell to his hands, slick and glistening with your desire. For a moment he stilled, focused gaze as he watched his fingers disappear inside you.

And when he pulled them out, he spread the wetness further across your folds, eyes locked on yours, pupils blown with need. He was saying your name, praising you, watching as you squirmed at his touch.

"Azriel." You moaned out.

"Yeah, beautiful?"

You couldn't respond, weren't sure what you wanted to say.

“Jesus. Look at you,” he said, his voice a low growl. “So fucking pretty. Your body is perfect.”

You were torn between begging him to keep talking, to speak more and let his words roll over you, and begging him to touch you more, to feel him inside you, to fuck you.

With his eyes still locked on yours, he brought his mouth to your cunt, groaning in approval the moment he drew your essence into his mouth. His fingers slipped back inside you, finding a deep, aching spot, and your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Each tug on his hair elicited a low, approving groan from him, and you stored that information away, tucked it safely for a later time.

Your eyes fell shut as you neared the edge, body tensing with the imminent release. No, your mind echoed. Not yet. You let out a ragged breath, pulling at the curls on Az's head and pushing him away from your cunt. Azriel immediately loosened his hold on you, eyes shooting up to yours, brows furrowing with a growing concern.

“Not yet,” you managed, your voice breathy and urgent. “With you. On you. Please.”

The crease softened and his eyes grew dark again, hungry and blown wide. He grinned, hair tousled, lips glistening and swollen, and nodded in understanding. Az rid himself of the last piece of clothing he had, shedding his underwear as you drank in the sight of him before you. His naked form pressed against yours as he lay over you. You reached between you, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly, tentatively. His answering groans were low and guttural, brows furrowing with each movement of your hand.

“Do you have—?”

He nodded toward your bedside table. “You should. Rhys’s mom was very serious about safe sex.”

His voice was rough like gravel, octaves below what he normally spoke. If you weren't already drenched by now, you would've been pooling at the sound alone. You let out a breathless laugh and Azriel managed to lean over to your left drawer— the one you’d never really used, never even bothered to check what might be in it. His fingers fumbled briefly before he pulled out a small foil packet. He ripped it open with still glistening hands, and you took it from him, rolling it over his length with careful precision. Pumping him once, twice. Savoring the sinful sounds leaving his lips.

He was bigger than you had anticipated and your mouth watered at the sight, at the fact that beyond just its size, it was pretty. You'd get your mouth on it soon, you told yourself, taste him just as he tasted you. You'd wrap your lips around his head, let him fuck your mouth the way he wanted, and taste his release with a greedy tongue. But not now.

Az maneuvered himself, a forearm near your head to hold himself as his other hand went in between you, replacing your hand with his own. You ran your freed palm along his chest, bringing it up to his shoulders.

"Are you sure?" Az asked, eyes focused on you.

You almost laughed at the question, a smile forming on your face as you nodded. "For the love of god, please," you said, and you were sure it was the hundredth time you'd muttered the word. "I want you. I-I need you."

Az’s growl reverberated through you, a primal sound you’d never heard from him before. It sent waves of need crashing over your body. Your legs instinctively locked around his back, drawing him in as his cock pressed firmly inside you, an intense surge of pleasure that made you both gasp for air. You clenched around him, welcoming him and the stretch he provided, the sensation of him as he rolled his hips, as he bottomed out with another sinful groan. Azriel kissed you again and again as he moved, as he picked up the pace and you clawed at his back— nails digging into the ink that adorned his golden skin.

His mouth explored every inch of you—your nipples, your throat, your ear—before he covered your mouth to muffle your moans once more. You dug your heels into his back, fingers tangled in his hair as he pressed you firmly into the mattress with the snap of his hips. You were lost in the rising waves of sensation—his quick, sharp thrusts, the heat and sweat of your bodies moving together.

Faintly, you heard a soft whining, a mewl of pleasure. You realized, seconds later, it had come from your own throat; desperate and babbling, repeating Az's name like a prayer. He was everything now, every thought in your mind, filling every sense, his hands, his tongue, his cock.

You were so close, on the edge of something monumental, ready to fall and fall and fall. Azriel must have seen the desperation in your eyes as he started whispering in your ear, murmuring things that you knew would later make you blush and squirm, turn red and pink and every color between.

“Holy shit, yes,” he growled, “You feel incredible, Y/n.”

You clung to him, your breath mingling with his, praying that, somehow, through this shared rhythm, you could bind him to you forever. That this moment would make him truly yours, beyond just the physical, blending every part of him with every part of you.

"Talk to me, beautiful." He nipped at your bottom lip. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes, god, yes." You moaned and pulled him closer to you. As you separated from another hungry kiss, you reveled in the way his chain dangled over your face, in the way it swung as he fucked you. It was even better than you imagined, even hotter in every way. You clenched around him, shivered at the sound he made.

He looked beautiful. Face flushed and glistening with sweat, tousled hair falling into his eyes as he gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, a look you felt too soft to be reserved for you. It was a look meant for those that did great, praise-worthy things, a look for a lover and a soulmate. You stared at him, breathing heavily, taking in all that he was, and he looked at you back, took you in just as carefully. Then he smiled, reaching up and gripping your hands in his. He pressed gentle kisses along your cheeks and entwined your fingers with his, held them above your head.

"I'm so close,” you murmured, “So close.”

Azriel's eyes darkened. He brought his bottom lip between his teeth and his cock surged into you with such force that the bed groaned beneath you. You gasped, body going slack as he drove into you with relentless speed, each thrust so intense that you were left completely immobilized. His movements grew uneven, body trembling as he strained to hold back, his fingers pressing deeply into yours.

“Azriel.” His name was all you had. “Az. Az.”

He was buried deep inside you, trembling with the force of his release. “Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed heavily. "Come with me, baby."

You clenched at the name, at the way his words caressed your skin. Azriel cried out against your shoulder, his moan wavering like he was descending from a high. You felt his entire body shudder and you pressed kisses to his ear, cheek, and neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, maybe a little too roughly, but he only whimpered and slumped against you, his full weight pressing you into the bed.

He took deep breaths and you laughed as he blew your hair out of his face. A few moments later you loosened your hold on him, bodies reluctantly untangled, condom disposed, and you both shifted onto your sides. You leaned in to kiss him. His response was tender and unhurried, his lips moving against yours with a reverent slowness. His hands roamed over your back, your hip, and the curve of your ass.

Long after you cleaned up, as you laid against Az's bare chest and he played with your hair, that feeling of falling was still there, something exciting and equally terrifying. It filled your stomach, flowed through your veins.

You looked at Az, took in his contented smile, his eyes closed and peaceful as he held you, and you wondered if you truly knew what love felt like, wondered when it was too soon to decide you could never let someone go.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹  

authors note: your honor i do believe theyre falling in love. i also, do believe, that they boutta be fuckin like rabbits

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

As always, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

[livin4woso]

Scarred for life (mapi x ingrid x leon!Reader)

Summary - When mapis' younger sister decides to come drop off some clothes, she had stolen off her older sister she ends up interrupting something she shouldn't have, and it leaves her slightly scarred.

You hadn't thought anything of it it was a normal day off, no special occasion or any media, just a random Thursday. You had borrowed mapis jacket a couple of days ago for a photo shoot and decided to return it. However, you had your own key to the place, and you had shown up unexpectedly to her and ingirds apartment many of times, and there had been no issues until today.

You were mapis younger sister, and she raised you to be just like her, a footballer. You had grown up idolising her, and you had captured the football world by storm as the lèon sisters a formidable pairing, some even referring to you as the brick wall of Barcelona. It was only a couple of years ago when her and ingrid got together and you wished it had happened sooner because ingrid was the balance to mapi that she needed. You and ingird got along far too well for mapis liking, even ganging up on her the odd few occasions, leaving her to fake pout with her arms crossed.

The drive from yours to mapis apartment was relatively short, but there was still roadworks that added time to your journey. You had finally reached her apartment and because you're her sister you had a spare key not for emergencies or anything just because you and mapi were close siblings and liked spending time with each other outside of football which may be for the reason yous had amazing chemistry on the field with eachother.

The key finally turned in the lock, opening the door with a satisfying click. However, unlike usual, there was no immediate sign they were home, so you thought you would just leave the jacket in her living room with a note to know that it was you. However, you wished you never showed up after what you saw.

As you stepped into the living room, it was if your life flashed before your eyes. "EURGHH OH MY GOD.. IM GONNA BE SICK, " you shouted. The sight before you was ingrid between your sisters legs on the couch, something you didn't want to see. "ON THE COUCH ASWELL UREGH IM NEVER SITTING ON THIS COUCH AGAIN NOT UNTIL YOU GET ANOTHER ONE," you continued to shout with your hands over your eyes as large amounts of scuffling happened.

It was about 5 minutes later, and it was like the scene was repeating in your head. "Im so sorry y/n ermm we weren't expecting you." mapi started this time in clothes. "Yeah no its okay im just never going to be able to come back here ever again... sooo goodbye and have a nice time just next time do it in the bedroom!!" You stated walking out the door.

Once you had left ingrid had started laughing to herself "well atleast your sister knows you're not as tough as you look and the fact you're a massive bottom" she said and mapi retaliated by smacking her arm "its not funny" "oh it really is amor".

That night, it might have seemed dramatic, but it was replaying in your head, causing a lack of sleep, which wasn't helpful for training the next morning. You trundled into the changing room, barely even noticing where you were going. "Whats wrong with you chica" said pina slinging an arm around your shoulder "i don't want to talk about it but if you want to know id ask my sister about it" you said groaning as you tried to shake off your tiredness.

You had came earlier than usual to try to avoid your sister and her girlfriend, which had worked as you were the first one on the field which had never happened before. Meanwhile pina couldn't help herself so she went and aksed mapi "sooo whats wrong with y/n the poor girl looks traumatised" "its nothing she's just being dramatic from yesterday" mapi said trying to blow the conversation over but pina had caught ingrid snickering to herself so she knew it was interesting.

"Pleaseee ingrid you have to tell me i wont say anything" she practically begged the taller girl "okay okay so basically y/n walked in on us in the living room" she said not even embarrassed "oh god no wonder the girl is traumatised" pina said through laughing.

"Well, she did shout at us that she was now scarred for life and is never coming back over until we get a new couch," ingrid said, laughing at the flashback of you shouting in pure disgust.

[fatkish]

Could you write for: All Might, Hawks, Ryukyu, Sir Nighteye, Present Mic and Edgeshot with a reader who has a habit of stress-cooking

Basically them leaving for a mission and coming home a lot more later that they had plan and find their kitchen stuff with a bunch of different plates.

Pro Heroes x Reader Headcannons

Stress Cooking

Present Mic:

After he comes home he would definitely be surprised to see so much food if it was the first time he experienced your stress cooking. But don’t worry, Hizashi is a people person and would have just the solution to this problem

Mic: um… we having a party or somethin’

Reader: no… I kinda… got stressed

Mic: well damn… hold on, lemme invite some people and we’ll have a dinner party. I’ll invite Sho and Nem, they love your cooking

All Might:

It highly depends on when it happens. If you’re with Pre- injury might, then he’d probably laugh it off and happily eat whatever you made. If it post-injury might and he now has difficulty eating then he’d probably be secretly upset that he cannot eat as much of your cooking as he used to

All Might: I’m home,… something smells good, *walks into the kitchen to see all kinds of food* um… what happened? Did you start a catering business?

Reader: I got stressed so I cooked

All Might: well there’s no way we can eat all of this ourselves so how about we box it up and take it to the UA faculty dorms and share it with everyone

Hawks:

Would definitely make a joke of it but would definitely eat all of it or bring it to his agency to feed his sidekicks and other people

Hawks: *walks into the kitchen* I really hope there’s some fried chicken

Reader: I’ll fry you, you chicken

Hawks: sheesh, it’s just a joke *takes out a plate and begins to pile stuff on it while eating an eggroll you made* yer a rerry gerd cerk” (you’re a really good cook)

Reader: don’t talk while eating

Ryukyu:

Was definitely a little startled to see so much food but would just go with it.

Ryukyu: that’s a lot of food darling, is there a special occasion or something?

Reader: nope! I got stressed

Ryukyu: okay, well why don’t we package this all up and save some for us and bring the rest to the agency

Sir Nighteye:

The guy isn’t surprised at all. He probably had an idea about this happening and decided to take action about it

Mirio: thanks for inviting Midoriya and I over for dinner but are you sure your s/o is going to be okay with this?

Nighteye: you’ll see

*the three of them enter the house to see a bunch of different foods on the kitchen table*

Reader: oh, hi Mirai, what’s up

Midoriya: wow, um… t-thank you so much for having us over *ridid bowing ensues

Mirio: wow, everything looks so good, I don’t know where to start. Thanks (y/n)

Reader: (0-0) *makes that kind of face* you’re welcome?

Edgeshot:

Also a guy who just goes with the flow and isn’t too surprised but is still somewhat surprised. Would probably freeze the extra food since he’s such a secretive person

Edgeshot: is there a reason you made so much food?

Reader: I kinda got stressed?

Edgeshot: looks like we’ll be having leftovers for quite some time

[bellaxgiornata]

SAHD!Frank Castle Headcanons

I picture Frank being an amazing, hands-on father if he ever managed to fall back into that role again and I just think he'd make such a wonderful stay-at-home-dad. I couldn't resist sharing some of my SAHD!Frank headcanons so they're below the cut! And I'm also just going to make him a girl dad here because he absolutely is in my mind.

I could also certainly be persuaded to share some girl dad!Frank Castle headcanons...

With the ridiculous cost of daycare, you and Frank would eventually come to the conclusion that it was just more cost effective to have one of you stay home with the girls. And while you might be tempted to do it yourself, you'd also know how much Frank would cherish being present for every moment with his kids. He'd never want to miss a single thing after the tragic loss he'd experienced, and you'd have already seen his steadfast devotion during your pregnancy. While he would argue that you should be the one to stay home with them, eventually you would win out.

On weekdays, Frank would be awake early every morning--possibly even before your alarm went off. He'd always have a mug of hot coffee or tea made for you whenever you finally stepped foot into the kitchen. And when you did, you'd find him preparing breakfast for the girls. He'd always make you up a plate of whatever he cooked, insisting you eat something before you were out the door for work ("You gotta eat, baby. Just a few bites, c'mon."). And Wednesdays would forever be known as pancake day in your house.

Frank would never run out of activities to do with the kids, even if you found some of them to be very 'Frank.' He'd have them help him build things (a new bookshelf, a baby crib, a birdhouse, etc), and he'd teach them what tools to use while he's at it. He'd have them assist him with changing the oil in the car, fixing a leaky sink, or preparing vegetables in the kitchen for dinner (with child-safe knives that he always complained to you later about how "they can't cut for shit."). When playfully teased about the things he teaches them, he'd tell you he wanted your girls to learn "the real shit they won't get from school."

Every Friday is Library Day in the Castle house. Frank would take the girls to the library in the morning for story time where he would sit back and watch with a big grin on his face as his girls sat "criss-cross applesauce" among all the other kids and listened to the books with rapt attention. Aftwerwards, he'd let them pick out new books for bedtime for the upcoming week. Then he would always make the morning extra special by taking the girls out for brunch.

He loves nothing more than to free up more time for all of you to spend together as a family on the weekend, so he would be the dad running errands during the weekdays with a toddler holding each of his hands (or a baby strapped to his chest in a carrier). He'd be out grabbing groceries, hitting up the hardware/home improvement store so he could work on projects around the house, or he'd be taking the kids to their doctor/dentist appointments so you wouldn't have to think about it later.

Frank would be the cool dad at all the parks, the one not afraid to play with his kids and push them on the swings. He'd be making small talk with the other moms and setting up play dates for his girls. He'd also be the one all the other kids flocked to on the playground whenever he was there because he was known to easily be persuaded into playing hide and seek or tag.

A few times throughout the month, Frank would stop by your work just before your lunch break to drop off food with the girls as an excuse to see you ("Had to come see my favorite girl. Wanted to make sure you're not workin' too hard."). You always loved it even more on the random occasions that your lunch came with a bouquet of flowers--either store bought or freshly picked on a walk by him and your girls.

If Frank knew you had a big presentation coming up or that you were just having a rough week/day, you could always count on coming home to something he made with the girls--pictures they colored or crafts they made--to cheer you up ("S'posed to be a butterfly ring or something. Shit, I don't know. Girls wanted to do somethin' with pipe cleaners. Blame YouTube.")

At the end of a long work day, you'd come home to see that dinner was almost finished cooking most nights. You'd either find Frank out back with a beer in one hand grilling while the girls were playing in the yard, or he would be in the kitchen surrounded by high-pitched laughter.

And when you came home from a long day of work, you could always count on Frank greeting you with the biggest smile. He'd wrap you up in his big arms and give you the sweetest kiss, even if he had to pause cooking dinner ("Missed you today, sweetheart. Hope you're hungry."). It would be the thing you looked forward to most at the end of every day, especially on particularly difficult days.

[anon-sect]

Picture source: Instagram account: @mrstinkysocks

Patten had the perfect guy. He had been in many relationships, but his current one was the best. He really loved the guy, but his two step brothers weren't fond of having a gay brother. They had at many times picked on him for being gay, but he would just ignore them and their insults.

One day, their bullying had gone too far. Patten had received a call from his boyfriend wanting to break up with him. He claimed that he was cheating on him and had pictures to prove it. Seeing the pictures that his boyfriend received, he could tell that they were fabricated by his stepbrothers.

Patten confronted his stepbrothers, Ion and Devin. They didn't deny what they did. In fact, they were completely proud of it. This was last stunt was too much. He decided he would need some payback against his homophobic stepbrothers.

While they weren't looking, he had spiked their drinks with a special ingredient. He waited till they soon lost consciousness after finishing their drinks. He watched as both of them began to shrink in size and taking on the form of white socks perfect for his big feet.

He tried both of them on. They were super comfortable on his feet. He made sure that their senses were left intact and heighted to about 1000%. They would feel more intensity than normal.

Ion woke up as though he was run over by a bus. He felt strange. He tried to move but could only do a little squirming. He tried to speak but had no voice to make any sound. He felt something fill up his body as though it was hollowed out. He could hear his stepbrother talking on the phone above him. It sounded like he was trying to make up with his former boyfriend. As much as he tried to move or speak any form of defiance, he only could manage a little squirming motion.

Devin woke up to feeling the wiggling of toes. He was a little confused at first till he figured out that he was a sock on Patten's foot. He could smell the odor coming from it, but it was much in intensity. He could hear him make up with the boyfriend they tried to breakup with him. Once off the phone, the intense pressure of being stepped on and walked on was insane. It felt like every nerve ending was in excruciating pain. He wanted the pain to end but each step brought on pain fresh and new.

Patten walked into the kitchen to get a snack before relaxing in front of the tv. His boyfriend was coming over later for some make up sex after hearing what his stepbrothers tried to do. He walked back to the couch and propped his feet on the table. "You two tried to ruin my relationship because you don't like having a gay brother. Now, you two will serve my feet for about a week. I might turn you back to normal then. For now, enjoy my feet." He laughed as he watched tv, not giving a care about his new socks.

SIX MONTHS LATER....

Patten saw one of his favorite pair of socks had a big hole in it. One of his stepbrothers was too damaged to change back to normal. The other was dirty, but still intact. He didn't see the reason to restore one and not the other. Keeping them both as socks was the better option. His boyfriend loved the fact about what he did to them. In fact, his boyfriend had used them as cum rags on several occasions. He didn't feel bad that they would be his socks forever now, since they were terrible brothers to him. At least in this form, they were more helpful.

Devin's mind was completely gone. There were no more human thoughts. The only thing that he focused on was Patten's foot. The hole was a badge of honor that he was proud of. Patten's foot had worn him out and he loved it. All he was now just a sock loyal to the foot that wore him.

Ion was screaming daily for Patten to forgive them. Six months of the stench of his brother's foot was a nightmare. He wanted out badly. But when he heard that they would stay as socks due to the fact that one of them had a hole in it, was mortifying. Since the hole would prevent that sock from returning to normal, they both had to remain as socks. He figured that Devin's mind was probably gone by now. He would be a dumb mindless sock. The bad part was that Devin having a hole in him meant that they both now share the same fate. Forever tormented by their gay brother on his feet.

[m4nj1r0s]

Hanma relationship headcannons

- He definitely pulls, so he’s been with a ton of girls. None of them lasted more than 2 months, and he just used them. You were supposed to just be another girl he used then tossed away, but he ended up staying. You were fun, and he needed more people apart from Kisaki to annoy.

- This mf is definitely annoying. Can and WILL ask you if you’re on your period whenever your mad (he knows you aren’t, he’s probably being creepy and tracking your cycle too.).

- The boys in Valhalla probably ask him for advice with girls. His advice is bad.

- “Girls hate it when they call you and you don’t pick up straight away. So if you can’t answer your woman, just switch your phone off. She can’t question you if you do that.”

- “When you guys go out, don’t pay. Let the girl pay, or you’re executing toxic masculinity, and she won’t like that. You guys need to be more woke.”

- He KNOWS his advice is bad, which is why he doesn’t use any of those tips with you. If you guys go out, none of you are paying. He’ll dine and dash. Want something from a shop? Distract the guy at the counter and he’ll grab it and run.

- At this point in your relationship, he’ll probably catch feelings and he won’t just randomly dump you over text.

- When Halloween rolls around, you two prank call Kisaki and literally everyone in Valhalla.

- Despite how annoying he is, he never forgets a special occasion. He’ll act like he did only to surprise you later. Probably got you a pet chicken for your birthday but then you made him take it back because he stole it.

- Would rather DIE than admit he gets jealous whenever you interact with boys. Not just any boys, but specifically those nice guys who are sensitive and are genuinely sweet to girls.

- He can’t be like that, he’ll forever have a reputation of playing around with girls and being a womanizer. Even if he’s in a dedicated relationship with you, he still gets paranoid you might realize that you deserve better and leave him.

- Definitely high maintenance when he catches feelings. Texts you 20 times a day and expects you to reply and have a conversation with him.

- Has a bad habit of sneaking into your room whilst you’re asleep and standing over you until you wake up to scare you.

- Refuses to stop until you move in with him, and one day you do!

- Leaves empty noodle cups, dirty socks and drinking glasses all around your shared room. He won’t even help to clean, he’ll just give you a big ass grin and promise not to do it again.

- Likes to catch you off-guard, like twice a year he writes you a very meaningful poem and leaves it in the pocket of a piece of clothing you wear a lot. He expects you to give him tons of kisses whenever he does.

- Doesn’t stop talking about you to Kisaki. It’s always “Oh yeah, Y/N likes that.” “I wonder what she’s doing right now..” “Y/N says she doesn’t like you.”

- Yes, he does tell people you are pretending to like but don’t actually that you dislike them. So you probably shouldn’t tell him if you don’t like someone..

- Accuses Kisaki of being jealous whenever he tells Hanma to shut up. “Jeez, Kisaki! If you want a girlfriend, I’ll be your trusted wingman. First off, make sure to disappear randomly to make yourself mysterious, girls love that…”

[azullumi]

can i request ayato, alhaitham and diluc that likes treating their s/o like princess?

summary — two words: princess treatment.

characters — ayato, alhaitham, diluc (w/ fem!reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship; headcanons

word count — 900+

note — i want to be treated like a princess too.

KAMISATO AYATO

"Princess, come here. I have something to give you."

There are only a few things you could say, first, he loves to spoil you a lot by giving you expensive gifts and adorning you with beautiful jewelry that he thinks looks beautiful on you and second, he's over the top protective of you, often having people like guards to watch and accompany you when you go outside because he fears for the danger you might encounter—oh dear, having such a relationship with him could lead to having threats linger around you and he could never be too careless or careful when it comes your safety so he's always wary and worrying for you.

You are one of his priorities and the top of it all because what's even more important than you? Nothing. His paperworks? It's either he finishes them on the instant or he puts them aside for later just so he could be with you—nothing will ever get in the way of his desire of being with you. The moment you ask for his attention or time, he'll drop everything all at once and give you what you want.

He pays for everything that you want and need as money was never an issue for him. Anything that you ask for or anything that you say looks pretty? He'll get it for you, anything for his pretty princess. Sometimes, when he notices you fixating on an item or object, showing clear interest in it, you'll have it by your hands the next day.

He also loves to pamper and spoil you with kisses—if not on your lips, it could be on your forehead, on the back of your hand as he greets you, or on your cheek as he whispers an 'I love you'.

He is proud to have you stand by his side and holding his hand and so he makes sure that you feel special and cherished by him, loved and doted on in every moment that he can, and conveying his intense feelings of affection for you in that way.

ALHAITHAM

"You know I don't like seeing you having a hard time so let me do it for you, pretty."

The type to never let you open doors on your own and so as long as he's around you, you will never touch a door handle. This applies to anything and maybe just everything—he never lets you do anything on your own if he's around and would only make you sit back and relax as he does all the work because, just like what he had said, he doesn't want to see you getting tired, exhausted, or suffering in general.

He loves doing anything for you and when I mean anything, it's really every single thing. He fulfills every wish of yours that you had told him and would go such lengths just to do so because why not? Nothing can and ever will stop him. He will practically do anything as you say and if it's to see you smile because of him or something that he did, he will gladly do so.

His personality always causes him to get into arguments with other people and have such banters and debates with them but not with you, not when it comes to you as the two of you never got into a fight. He could never and never will he make you feel upset, angry, or especially hurt because of something that he said or did. Thus he is careful with the way he handles things, his actions, and words, and has proper communication with you.

He pays attention and listens to everything that you say, trying everything and his best so he could understand and sympathize with what you feel, and occasion lending solutions and help if you ask him to.

He loves you and makes sure that you know it by treating you with respect and adoration in his gentle caresses and sweet words. He assures you that you're the only one he will ever want because compared to others, you are poetry itself that is beautifully written by the greatest while they are merely words.

DILUC RAGNVINDR

"My princess looks so beautiful as always, how about you come and give me a kiss?"

Words of compliments, praises, and everything easily slips out of his lips whenever he sees you—often whispering sweet nothings to your ear—whether it's the first time for that day or the 11th time he glanced at your direction and saw you. Professional in such fluttering remarks, you'll think it was like a language that he was fluent in. Honestly, if he could worship the ground that you walk on, he definitely will.

Has he told you he loves you for the 5th time that day? If not, there it is and if yes, then you'll have your 6th. He even has a set of affectionate endearments on the tip of his tongue, always calling you princess and sweetheart. He pampers you in every way that he can and he is not shy to show his admiration for you whether it's through both verbally or physically. He just desires and wants to remind you that you're greatly adored by him and that he's happy to be with you.

The two of you could go shopping, going from one store to another, or go to a place with beautiful scenery on times that he will take you out. He arranges dates which are either a surprise for you or not, takes you out on dinners to the restaurant you like, and trips to anywhere you want, no matter how far that place is as long as you like it and as long as he's with you.

He is good with his hands and is an expert when it comes to massaging which you occasionally experience from him since he offers to do so, stating that he wants you to feel relaxed and good.

For him, it is amazing to have met such a beautiful, sweet, and wonderful person like you in his life and he ensures that he expresses his gratitude and love for you in ways that you'll understand and appreciate, in ways that you'll cherish and be happy with as much as he feels towards you.

navigation | masterlist

[xe-n4]

slow starts

feat. sae note: i just needed some fluff (life is so hard 😢), unedited contains: fluff, possibly ooc total: 727

Before you opened your eyes, you felt his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Sae laced his fingers with yours and rubbed the back of your hand.

“Mornin’,” he said in his raspy morning voice.

“Shut up,” you groaned. Slowly opening an eye, the sun-illuminated curtains flooded your vision and brightened your bedroom. Mild irritation built within you before you eventually rolled over and pressed yourself against Sae.

He rolled his eyes before kissing your forehead. “It’s morning, y/n.” Sae reached over to the side table for his phone, trying not to jostle you too much. 11:17. He kissed his teeth at the frustration of sleeping in much later than he intended to, which explained why he felt so groggy.

“It’s eleven in the morning, y/n. We—”

“All the more reason to stay in bed.” You placed a finger to his lips. “Stop talking so I can go back to sleep,” you whispered.

“You’ll have to get up eventually.”

You didn’t respond, ignoring everything Sae said to capture any remnants of sleep you had left.

Sae scoffed but relaxed into you. He didn’t want to admit it but felt nice to finally not have to get up at five every morning to train. His muscles weren’t screaming in exhaustion, and he could finally recharge his social battery. The stress of travelling the world for the last 4 months had gotten the best of him. Constant training, games, and interviews, rinse and repeat.

Sae sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe you were right, this is the perfect excuse to lie in even if it was for an extra hour before he forced himself to become human again.

That is until the sound of your stomach growling cut through the air like a hot knife to butter.

“Hey Sae?”

He hummed without opening his eyes.

“I think you might be hungry. And I also think you should make us breakfast.”

“What? That wasn’t me—”

“Oh, you should definitely make waffles,” you sighed, almost salivating at the thought.

“We don’t have a waffle iron.” Sae began to shuffle to the edge of the bed to put his slippers on. “I’ll make pancakes—he stood up—and you’re helping me.”

Before you registered what he’d said, Sae had already thrown you over his shoulder and was carrying you to the kitchen. He put you down and instructed that you get the ingredients from the fridge while he got everything else.

Cooking with Sae was like working a well operated machine. He’d set up stations around the kitchen to avoid bumping into each other, but he just had an air of authority about him, especially when he was concentrating.

After mixing together the pancake batter, you watched his piercing green eyes as they focused on the task at hand, flipping the pancakes. It may not seem like serious business but Sae liked his pancakes to be even on both sides. He was always very proud of himself when he’d manage to pull it off, walking around with a smug smile until his inflated ego was ultimately burst by the fact that pancakes were meant to be eaten, not hung as trophies.

You cleaned up while Sae set the table, bringing out the extortionately expensive maple syrup you only used for special occasions, such as Saturday mornings. It’s Thursday.

When you sat down at the table, you questioned him about it.

“What? I can’t treat my girl?”

You raised an eyebrow before digging in. “Thish ish sho good,” you said with your mouth full.

“Are they? Maybe we should start a business. Pancake restaurant? It’s a very unique idea”

“Shut up and answer my question.”

Sae put down his utensils and cleared his throat which made your ears perk up. “I’m thinking of taking a break from football…not for long, just for a season.”

“Oh. That’s okay.” You leaned back into your seat. “I thought you were gonna tell me something crazy.”

“But this is important, it affects you too.”

“I know, but I also know you’ve been stressed—you put your hand over his—take care of yourself before you start thinking about anyone else, okay?”

He nodded while pressing his lips together in disgust.

Your brows raised in confusion.

Sae gently lifted your hand off of his. “You’re sticky.”

You scoffed before rolling your eyes and continuing your breakfast.

m.list | like & reblog

[anantaru]

˚✧⁎⁺˳ sfw alhaitham boyfriend headcanons

some sweet boyfriend hcs about the scribe since he’s finally getting released, enjoy everyone ૮꒰ྀི ´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

꒰ a/n ꒱ — some instances in this are inspired by a couple hcs i have written about him in the past!

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, gn! reader

+ ˚ matching rings

for alhaitham, having a sense of bond with his significant other aside from an— already exceptional, emotional connection, didn‘t seem like an item he would‘ve spend nor waste any time on.

though a while later, after one day when he had sauntered through the midst of sumeru city, his eyes had suddenly caught a glimpse of a glowing jewel on a small table, being sold by a vendor from another nation.

it wasn‘t until later when he realised that the ring had a little stone embedded into it which held onto your most favorable color, next to it a larger version of the same product, a little different, but still carrying on the same intensity of beauty.

in the end he decided to buy it for you both, there wasn‘t a specific day or a special occasion that alhaitham had waited for to gift you his little present.

in reality he one day, brought the small gift with him to meet you, at last showing it to you in his large hand, the glow of the radiant stone on top of the golden frame had taken in the grand total of your pure attention.

he was well aware that you liked it, it was clearly written all over your sweet expression, how your eyes had widened in mere seconds, fixed with a certain luminosity of being so utterly grateful to him.

slowly, he rolled the ring on its desired destination and it fit you perfectly, of course it did.

after all, it was him who had your love, had fully acquired it and if he would remember and dwell back on it, alhaitham surely didn‘t regret buying the little gold since it was now an element part of his love for you, you who was his priceless possession.

+ ˚ slow, lazy make out sessions and his love

with the freedom he had obtained due to his job as the akademiya‘s scribe, alhaitham could gather enough spare time for you both to share with each other.

the comfort he sought after a long day was forthwith found in your arms with his head snugly leaning into your warm chest, listlessly paying attention to the low thumps of your heart.

although the two of you would engage in conversation at first, carelessly rattling onto numerous topics that just so happened over the past few hours, it'd aways end with you both getting closer.

for some unexplained reason, alhaitham tried to justify the comfort that consumed him whenever his lips would touch yours. It might have to do something with the dopamine releasing in him, with it setting free euphoric sensations in both his body and soul.

you were so sweet, so soft and squishy when your breathing went a tone lower, worldly wise and at a standstill, you were both relaxing under your touches, the romantic atmosphere that gnawed itself into the air, your surroundings adapting a fire as he gently took your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, drawing you close just a bit more, a little.

there was no doubt that you have greatly helped him improve in the relationship department, not only with you sharing an intimate, romantic connection but as well as when it came to friendships in its complete glory, to illustrate further as indicated with his colleagues of the sumeru akademiya.

in this moment, you do not speak, neither of you.

it's those nanoseconds where alhaitham would be plagued by words or letters he wouldn't be the best person to speak them out loud, though in his mind, they ran freely and in tandem with his feelings.

i need you by my side, all eternity, i am better because of you, i love you unconditionally, all of you.

+ ˚ reading to you while cuddling

alhaitham had always preferred to stay in with you, to keep a low profile, in a finer way dedicating his time to you.

obviously, some of the books he had stored away in his home could become quite difficult for you to read and although sometimes— alhaitham would explain them to you in great detail, you will not understand a single syllable that was escaping that pretty mouth of his.

yet he was still trying for you and archons:

the way his bright eyes would carefully ghost over each page in concentration, or how he deciphered every definition in his brain, individually breaching out one and all meanings to gather the right one or how he was easily deducting the words with his cleverness.

to say he was cute while being surrounded by his thoughts was an understatement.

yes, it was apparent that as a result of some of the topics he'd try to make you understand, you'd end up falling asleep on top of him, more often than you'd actually prefer to do so.

It's not like you wanted to, also you didn't want alhaitham to feel like he was boring you to death because in truth it wasn't him who did— but the overly tedious subjects at hand specific books would display.

at this, he wouldn't fault you, at all.

meanwhile he had already pleasingly tucked a blanket over your resting frame, gently making sure you were extra comfortable while moving his body only as little as possible so he wouldn't accidentally stir you off your precious slumber.

as for how this day would end, well, alhaitham would continue to page through his book before at last, placing it onto the nightstand, dimming the lights before encircling you in his broad arms, compassionately positioning his head on top of yours and drifting off to a silent, secured doze next to you.

+ ˚ conclusion and alhaitham‘s ways of handling arguments

befitting of his character, alhaitham could become quite difficult to deal with when it came to arguments that would occur just as much as in any other relationship.

it was bound to happen and to him, it was mind numbing.

seldomly he would actively engage in an argument, which wasn't always the best route to take because it was important for both parties in a relationship to be open about their corresponding feelings and emotions.

deep trust was what had defined your relationship, since it was one, if not the most important factor. He was a great listener and once the situation had been properly calmed down alhaitham would appear to go through great lengths to make whatever seemed to had happened, right again.

however, he was quite uncomfortable whenever he witnessed you cry, unmistakably it wasn't in a belittling kind of way, rather did it too, push him into a soul destroying current, masticating him from the inside out.

it was a learning process, a wholly overtaxing one at that, but he did not seek perfection of you and neither did you.

to put it into a different perspective, in the end alhaitham— though it may not always seem this way, did whatever it required for you to be happy again.

he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him and he wanted, more so desired, to keep it that exact way.

to live a peaceful, tranquil life with his soulmate was something he, no matter what, fancied.

on top of that, he'd make it his top priority to be unconditionally transparent with you, not daring to hide any aspects of his life with you in order for this to work out until the very end.

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[mochie85]

I'll Follow You

One Shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You came back to the compound, a year later after you left to make your own career, and you are worried about meeting Loki with how things ended when you left. Pairing: Romantic!Loki x OC Female Reader (Foxglove is her Superhero alias.) Word Count: Over 5.3k Warnings: Explicit. Fluff. Angst. Smut. Oral (female receiving). Shadowplay. Hallucinations.

Loki flipped through the magazine at a hurried pace, not looking at the photos or any of the articles. His hands needed something tactile to do. Or else, he feared, he might choke someone with them.

He paused when he saw an advertisement for a watch you were modeling for. There you were—a close-up of your beautiful face. Your eyes were bright and round. Your lips were dewy and sensual. Norns, he missed those lips. Especially when they were wrapped around his…

Ugh. Why can’t I stop thinking of her?! Loki snarled under his breath as he threw the magazine halfway across the room. It landed on the floor right by Sam’s feet. “You dropped this!” Sam said picking it up from the floor. He held it up in the air, not even looking, his attention fully absorbed on the TV screen.

Everyone had gathered to watch the talk show you were appearing on tonight. They couldn’t wait to see you come out and gossip about your life or inconsequential things. The entire team supported you in your decision to leave and start your acting career—everyone, except him.

Loki wanted to leave the room. He should’ve left and not agreed to come and watch the show with the others. He was about to stand up when-

“Shh. Shh. Guys quiet down. Here she is!” Wanda said shushing the entire room.  Loki watched the enormous television, enraptured. The camera panned over to the audience, their loud applause and cheers were deafening. Signs and pictures were held up from a time when you were an Avenger. He couldn’t help but sink further into his chair and get caught up with your grace once again.

“So, Foxglove- can I still call you Foxglove?” The host asked as you sat down.

“Of course, you can,” you beamed at the man behind the desk.

“I- I don’t know the protocol for these things. Do you get to keep the name even though you’re not an Avenger anymore?”

Your practiced laugh showed through your gritted teeth. “It doesn’t work exactly like that. Foxglove is the name I gave myself. I had it with me when I started with the Avengers and took it with me when I left. It wasn’t a title or anything.”

“And did they just let you leave? I would think it was like being in the mafia. ‘You know too many of our secrets. We can’t let you out alive!’ sorta thing,” the host said, thinking he was being clever.

“My friends and colleagues have all been supportive. And I remain in close contact with most of them.”

‘Most of them.’ That statement swirled the emotions Loki was feeling inside. He was not one of those who supported you and was very vocal about it. The fact that you still keep in contact with almost everyone here left him envious.

“And that’s actually part of the reason why I’m here tonight,” you continued. “My dear friend Tony, whom many of you know as Ironman- again, not a title…” you chuckled. “…Is throwing his annual charity gala this spring. This year he decided to make it a month-long occasion with different charities and events happening once a week culminating in the yearly gala at the end of the month.”

“That’s wonderful! That’s all he does when he’s not out saving the world, is party, huh?” the host said looking straight into the camera.

“Asshole!” Tony sassed under his breath, earning a few chuckles from the team.

“And what exactly is your part in this month-long event?” The host asked you.

“Well, I plan to raise money for The Nature Conservancy here in New York. I ask everyone to come and help us plant new trees or donate. Every dollar will be matched, and we can help restore some of the forests, in other parts of the country.”

“The Nature Conservancy is a special organization for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s where I first worked. It’s where I first started noticing my powers.”

“Your powers are amazing! You can talk to plants!”

“Well, it’s a lot more complicated than that,” you said with restraint. “Chlorokinesis allows me to excel a plant’s growth to a thousand times what they normally can. I can also enhance their natural defenses and abilities. And like my namesake, Foxglove, I can give you hallucinations when touched.”

“Can we get a demonstration?” the host asked to the cheers of his audience. You reached out to touch him “No, no, no!” he said nervously. “I don’t need any more hallucinations right now!” you both chuckled. “Thank you. But maybe you can make a flower grow?” he suggested, and the audience cheered you on.

“Sure, of course,” you smiled, happily. You rotated your wrists and flicked them around, gesturing for a plant to grow from the host’s wooden desk. The branches wrapped around itself forming a steady trunk. Soon the branches grew out further and further. Blooming wisterias in varying colors began to sprout, amazing the audience.

You used to be unstoppable. You used to tear down enemies left and right, numbing them with your visions before you cut them down and made them regret opposing you. Now you do party tricks for the camera so you can get a laugh from people who don’t care about you. Who didn’t even love you! Loki was furious.

Once again, Loki made to get up. He was almost through the exit of the room when he heard the next question that made him stop.

“So, Foxglove, will you be attending these events alone?” The audience ‘ooh’d’ at the question when the host decided to get a little more personal. “I heard you were cozying up to a certain superhero. Do you like those types? Do you have a type? What does Foxglove look for in a partner?”

You laughed embarrassedly. “These rumors! I swear they pair me up with someone new each week.”

“Oh, but you were seen leaving a nightclub with your costar, Superman himself, Henry Cavil.” The photo was put up on the screen. A picture of the two of you laughing in front of a busy club as Henry gingerly put his arm around your shoulders. The entire room of Avengers whooped and hollered cheering you on.

“We were celebrating. We had just wrapped our movie and it was my first time in London. So, Henry just wanted to show me around. Very friendly. All platonic.” You smiled, blushing. Loki noted that blush. I’ll break him like a twig!

“Ok. Ok. What about your former colleague, Loki of Asgard?” The host asked as a picture of the two of you replaced the one on the screen.

It was a photo taken when the two of you had gotten back from a mission. You had failed and cried about it on the flight back. Loki was wiping the tears from your face, trying to cheer you up. You didn’t know the PR department was there taking shots as all of you disembarked off the jet.

The camera cut back to you and you blushed harder. Once again, Loki noted that blush. He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding and swallowed. Does she miss me too?

“Loki and I have remained good friends. I look forward to seeing him again,” you told the host.

Lies. Not a single word was exchanged between the two of you since you left. The last words you said to him were “I hate you! I never want to see you again!” Loki couldn’t detect any falsehood when you screamed those words at him. That hurt the most.

Everyone turned to where Loki was standing. Some, like Thor, were smiling. Mostly everyone else was shocked.

“What?!” Loki snapped back at them, making everyone turn back to the television.

“Oh! Did you hear that? She wants to see him again.” The host embarrassed you. Your powers grew erratic as a new sprout of branches grew from the tree.

The whole audience was eating it up, clapping. You tried to hide behind your hand, but the different cameras provided different angles of your mortification.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Foxglove, everybody!” The host said pointing towards you clapping. You laughed and waved at the audience as Wisteria petals fell from the ceiling.

Weeks later, you sat in the back of a Maybach that Tony hired to chauffer you to the gala. This year it would be held at the compound which garnered more donations because everyone wanted to see inside the heavily guarded facility. Your intricate beaded dress fit you snuggly and covered you from shoulders to toe. It ensured that no one would accidentally come in contact with your skin. Especially with how crowded Tony’s parties got. The only wrinkle was from all the times you’ve grabbed it in anxiousness and wrung the fabric.

Why did I let Tony talk me into this?! I should’ve faked sick or something! What if Loki’s there? Of course, he’s there. Where else would he be? What if he doesn’t want to see me again? What if he has a date?! Maybe I should’ve invited Henry? No, no. He’d get the wrong idea. Just drop in, say your hellos, then leave. I don’t have to stay. I’m a grown adult. I can do what I want! FUCK! What if Loki comes and talks to me?

Once past the gates, the car crawled through a winding road with lanterns adorning the pathway. The car stopped at the front steps of the Avenger’s compound and you could hear the heavy bass of the music pounding through the car windows as bright lights and lasers littered the night sky.

You made your way through security to the massive, yet highly decorated, quinjet hangar and a sweeping staircase that descended to an impressive room below. You smiled, reminiscing about all the parties and events you attended as an Avenger- sweet memories that erased the worry you had when you were in the car. Picking up your gown, you gracefully descended the staircase. Keeping your eyes trained on the steps below, you tried not to look around, to look for him.

“Fox! I can’t believe you’re here!” Wanda shrieked as she ran up to you. She squeezed your sleeved arm and pressed her cheek on your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you, Wanda!” you said kissing the top of her hair.

“Come on. Everyone’s here- well, almost everyone,” she corrected herself. “We haven’t seen you in so long. Everyone wants to catch up.” She led you along to the bar where you were greeted by your former teammates. You were grateful that Loki wasn’t among them. He always loved these parties. You actively refused invites the past year just to avoid him. Awkward hugs and pleasantries were shared. Drinks were offered along with your first few dances promised to Sam and Wanda.

After hours of conversations with the team, and some drinks with Tony, you fell back into a sense of belonging and family. You didn’t realize how much you missed your friends here. How much you missed being an Avenger. It got so lonely most nights not having anyone to talk to. At least here, you would have had Nat or Bucky to train with in the middle of the night.

Or Loki to keep you company.

You groaned internally. You couldn’t help but be on edge all night, thinking about him and wondering if Loki was ever going to show up.

Before leaving for the night, you excused yourself to get some fresh air. There was a greenhouse in the back glades of the compound that you frequented most nights just to be alone. You used to make the hedges grow all around, giving you a private garden away from the rest of the world.

Inside, it was as if you had never left. The plants stood tall as if to greet you. Bright flowers bloomed in different colors as if in competition to win your adoration. And in the back corner, hidden behind large monstera plants, was a cove of plush blankets and chairs that you hid from anyone ever finding. Everyone except, “Loki?”

Loki sat in the rattan chair; his legs crossed reading a magazine with your picture on the cover. He looked as breathtaking as the first time you saw him, like trouble and a promise all wrapped up in his pressed monochromatic black suit. His mischievous smile appeared, tempting you closer.

“Hello, Foxglove,” he greeted you. His voice sending shivers down your spine. Fight or flight? Fight or flight? You kept repeating in your head.

“I…didn’t know this spot was taken. I won’t bother you. Goodnight,” you hastily said as you turned to leave.

“Wait!” he cried standing up. You could feel him grab hold of your wrist. You looked down to see his shadow holding on to you like a dear friend, shadow to skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. It’s been so hard to be intimate with anyone because of your body’s defense mechanism. And here was Loki, the only man who figured out a loophole to your little enigma.

“I just wanted to say…” Loki paused, staring only into your eyes. “Y-you look beautiful tonight.” You pulled your hand away from his shadow and stayed quiet. “I saw you. We… the team… saw you on the talk show. You’ve done amazing things this past year. One movie, a television show, countless endorsements.”

“Still don’t think I can make it?” you challenged.

“Fox, it was never about that!” he argued. His sudden outburst propelled him like a predator. He stalked his way closer to you, making you back into the glass wall of the greenhouse. You caught whiffs of his cologne mixed with the tropical scent of the flowers all around you. He stopped when he realized he had alarmed you. “I should not have advanced on you so quickly. I apologize.”

“It’s all right. Just habit, I guess.” You were always conscious of people touching you and getting too close. You never wanted to be the cause of their hallucinations. Loki felt relieved that he hadn’t scared you off. His shadow stood ahead of him, rubbing your arm with the back of his fingertips, trying to mollify your anxiousness.

Loki watched and waited as you settled. Jealousy festered in his body at the sight of his shadow being able to comfort you and he couldn’t. “You look… breathtaking, by the way.” He tried to soothe.

“You already said that,” you said curtly, blushing. Loki loved your blush. He loved getting under your skin and teasing you.

“Is your new lover here with you tonight? Got sick of the real superheroes, had to get yourself a pretend one?” he tried deflecting. Loki smirked looking through the glass and out to the party to see if he could spot Cavill.

“As I recall, you wanted nothing to do with me once I stepped foot out of your room,” you said quoting him from the last time you spoke. “So, it’s none of your business whether or not Henry and I are together.”

“But you are…together?” he asked. His stare was unwavering, demanding an answer to his desperate question.

“I don’t need this right now!” You were angry and speechless. He doesn’t have the right to question your life’s choices especially when he wanted no part of them in the first place.

You moved to get away from his shadow’s hold and out of the greenhouse. Loki followed you close. “Fox, please. Stop.”

“Why are you even here, Loki?” you called back, briskly walking towards the exit. “You knew this was- This was my spot. MY SPOT!” you yelled, turning abruptly towards him.

“Because I wanted a chance to talk to you in private! Without the cameras or the paparazzi. Without some life-or-death mission hanging over our heads. I needed to see your face again, without all these people trying to steal your attention away from me.” He stopped and watched you reach for the door to go outside. “I’m sorry, Vixen.”

Vixen.

Feelings you thought you had buried deep down inside of you started to resurface. All because of that name he used. The one he would whisper as he called for you in his arms late at night. The name he used when he made you laugh so hard the only way to stop you was to kiss you.

The one name he knew would stop you in your tracks… because it was the one name he used when he was about to touch you himself.

“I am sorry if I ever made you feel…”

“Unworthy? Incapable? Useless?!” you turned as you accused him.

“Unwanted,” he finished.

Real tears fell down your face now. Loki cupped your cheek and wiped it away with his thumb. You could feel the heat in his touch. The energy. You’ve felt it with his shadow, but there was always something electrifying and passionate when Loki touched you himself.

It was a luxury to feel this connection with someone. To feel the warmth from his fingers. The callouses in his palms. You imagined feeling his soft lips on you once again until you stopped yourself. It was a dangerous path to have such expectations right now. You opened your teary eyes to find Loki watching you.

His eyes darted around to your surroundings before he closed them and tried to focus back on you. “You are very much wanted, Vixen. I just couldn’t admit to myself how much I wanted you back then.”

He opened his eyes to yours. The swirl of emotion in them was breathtaking. It was then that you saw his true face for the first time. His emotions. His thoughts. He was stripped of his armor and his pretenses. You felt as if you two were the only thing that existed in that time and space. As if he were holding his life, right there cupped in between his hands.

Your heart pounded in your ears as he continued his confession. “I am a jealous god. You know this. I didn’t want to share you with anybody. I wanted to keep you to myself. To keep you from the world. I was afraid that you would tire of me like you did with being an Avenger. Cast me out after seeing what the world out there could offer you.”

Loki placed his forehead to yours, feeling your breath on his lips. He bared it all for you tonight. He admitted something you knew was difficult for him to confess.

But could it erase what he made you feel for wanting to follow your dreams? Horrible and selfish. Untalented. Unwanted.

“I love you.” Your eyes grew wide at his expression. “I loved you then. I’ve loved you since. I am still deeply in love with you. Even now, when you’re about to run away from me, my heart won’t let me forget you. I was afraid that I would have no place in the world that you were creating for yourself. So, for that, I am sorry.” You closed your eyes and lingered in his touch a while longer.

“I wanted to apologize. I never got a chance to see you again after our fight, and I regret that I never made amends to you. You had every right to follow your path. I shouldn’t have stopped you. I should’ve supported you.” His thumb caressed your cheeks back and forth. You always did have the softest skin, unblemished by anyone else’s touch, he thought.  “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything at all. And if you want to leave now, I won’t stop you. Never again. But I just needed you to know how I felt.”

Do you love him? You asked yourself as you looked into his variegated eyes. Did you spend every night thinking about him? Did you ignore the compound, and your friends, this past year just to avoid seeing him again? Afraid that he would have someone new in his life? Did you miss his voice when he says your name? His kisses? His touch?

“Yes,” you answered yourself. Loki’s brows knitted in confusion. “Loki, I understand now. Thank you… what I said to you back then, I was angry, but...” you tried to start.

Loki smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “We were both angry and said things we didn’t mean. Me more than you. Please don’t apologize. Least of all to me.” He exhaled as his eyes darted around again. You nodded your head, accepting his grace- forgiving you without having to apologize.

You looked up at his eyes, filled with wonder, “What do you see? When you touch me?” you asked gently. All this time you never thought to ask him.

“I see what I always see. Since the very first time I touched you. Do you remember?” You shook your head no. “They showed a picture of it on the talk show.” Realization sunk in. “I was wiping your tears just like now.”

Loki looked around again and smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I see home. I see the woods that used to grow behind the castle walls. Thor and I used to sneak out when we were children and climb the trees. The same woods we used as hunting grounds when we got older. Would you like to see it?”

No one had ever asked you that before.  No one had ever had the power to do that before! You nodded and faint green smoke rose from his fingers. Your vision got blurry as the greenhouse was replaced by a dense forest. The trees were tall and luscious. Strands of warm light filtered through the canopy above shining down on the emerald grass below.

“Come with me.” Loki held your hand as he walked further into the woods. Dead leaves and twigs crunched at your feet as a soft breeze blew through the lace of your dress giving you goosebumps. “There’s a glade up ahead where we can just lay on the grass. I used to spend my free time there, letting the hours idle away.” The thought made you smile.

Sure enough, a clearing began to form up ahead. Long, soft grass weaved itself as it grew amongst large wildflowers. The filtered light from the canopy above made the blooms shine like jewels on a bed of velvet.

“I have yet to see anywhere comparable to this place on Midgard,” Loki said circling the glade, a look of homesickness in his eyes. “That metropolis has nothing compared to the splendor of these woods.”

“It’s beautiful.” You said walking towards him. A path of small wildflowers blooming with every step you made.

“Thank you. It is beautiful. But still an illusion. We are still very much in the greenhouse by the compound. You’re just seeing what I’m seeing at the moment.” You reached out towards a tree and felt cold glass instead of bark.

“You see this every time you’ve touched me? Every time we’ve…”

“Hmm,” Loki nodded solemnly. “Sometimes it's these woods. Other times it's my bedchambers in the palace. Yet, every time I’m with you, I see this- my childhood home. I haven’t been back since you left.” Loki bent down and picked up a wildflower that had grown in your stride. “I try to conjure it myself, but it never feels the same. The colors aren’t as vibrant. Not as much warmth.” He placed the flower on your ear, pushing your stray hair back. His hands ventured further down, tracing the beads of your sleeves.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted.

“You’ve missed me? Or you’ve missed my powers and that they can bring you home?” you asked slightly jilted.

Loki looked deeply into your eyes as he turned you into his embrace. Your hands fell onto his arms and the look he gave you stole your breath away. “You are my home,” he confessed with a passion and honesty you’ve never heard from him before.  

He wasted no time. He gave you no warning as he conceded to his urges and kissed you fervidly. The soft lips you were fantasizing about earlier painted a poor picture of his actual kiss. Soft yet demanding. Giving, yet always ravenous. It was as if no time had passed between you two. You were back in his arms kissing him and it felt like he described it. Home.

“All I ever wanted was to have you here in my arms,” he breathed in between kisses. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him back to you for another kiss. His arms wrapped selfishly around you, holding you tighter to him.

The heat was too much. It’s been so long since you’ve been held so intimately. But with Loki’s lips devoted to your neck, you would burn gladly. You would die happily on this pyre- as the last thing you would hear would be Loki moaning in your ears.

You were lost in his haze, caught up in the moment with the feel of his body against yours. He pushed you against the tree and you felt the cold glass of the greenhouse against your back.

Loki towered over you, “Tell me you want this,” he whispered onto your noxious skin. “Tell me you’ve missed this and want this with me.” He looked into your eyes, imploring something deep and vulnerable inside you.

“I do, Loki. I want this with you” You moaned holding tight against his grip. You felt his hands gather your dress skirt. Slowly his hands wandered, savoring the feel of your soft skin. His hallucinations were getting more and more vivid. Believable. Or perhaps it was just his kiss, sending you into slight delirium yourself.

Loki hurriedly took off his suit jacket and flung it across the room. He knelt in front of you, in between your parted legs as he raised your left knee above his shoulders- kissing his way up to your inner thighs. “Loki is this real?” you asked looking around you.

“Gods, I hope so,” he prayed, leaving a mark on your thigh. He kissed his way up to your core and licked you through the fabric of your panties. You heard the sheer cotton tear as his fingers brushed up against your eager clit.

Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling when he licked a wide stripe in between your folds. Your knees buckled at the sensation and soon you were reaching around yourself for something to hold. Something to keep you up as Loki lost himself in your wet arousal.

The cold glass of the greenhouse was replaced by the feeling of something warm and sturdy behind you. You looked up to see that Loki’s shadow had positioned himself to where his chest was flushed against your back- his dark hands roaming your body. His arms reached forward to hold your dress up above your waist, aiding Loki in his endeavors.

You felt a kiss on your neck, a quick peck as if he was asking for permission or giving you a warning. You yelped as his shadow quickly lifted you by your hips and Loki pushed both your knees up for his shadow to hold.

“Loki!”

“Yes, my love?” he asked as he continued to latch his mouth and draw on your aching cunt. Loki’s shadow spread your legs. You were splayed open and exposed. Leaving Loki to devote his tongue to you. You reached up and ran your hands through his shadow's hair, pulling as he sweetly kissed your neck.  

You couldn’t help the moans and loud whimpers escaping your lips. You bucked your hips onto Loki’s face as your head reared back onto his shadow’s shoulders.

“Come for me, Fox. Let me hear you,” he commanded as he continued his consumption of you. “Let me taste you again. Give me what I’ve been missing. What I’ve been craving.” He said the last words to your tormented clit. You shuddered violently as moans and whimpers of his name fell from your lips. “That’s it. There you go, Vixen,” he cooed as he drank your arousal and lapped around your thighs.

His shadow laid you down gently and you felt the plush pillows and cold blankets from the greenhouse corner underneath you. A warring sensation against the heat of Loki’s body pressed on top of you. A bit of reality mixed in with the illusion Loki was scarcely hanging on to.

His hands fondled your every curve and every soft line. You cupped his face and led him to your kiss. His soft lips quivered when you reached in between your bodies and stroked his clothed erection. So hard and so tight. He breathed a sigh of relief when you unzipped his pants and stroked him.

“Fuck,” he moaned. Your name followed next as he bucked his hips into your hand. “Vixen…tell me you’re mine,” he panted. He kissed you hard, not letting you reply, afraid of your answer. You lined him up next to your expecting cunt and pulled him inside you.

You bit your lip and moaned as the look of pure pleasure radiated through your face. “Tell me…” he tried again as he pushed his hips into you repeatedly.

“I love you, Loki,” you moaned. His eyebrows slanted skeptically, stilling his movements and letting your words sink into his thoughts. “I’ve always been yours.” You admitted.

His kiss was magic. It was passion and life. Remorse and reconciliation all at once. He began his movements again at a steady pace, savoring your tight walls around him. You could feel the ridges on his shaft with every euphoric pull and thrust. His head bowed at the sheer power of your declaration. “Say it again…” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you moaned.

“…say it…” he bit his lips. “…ag-again…please…” His eyes were closed as he focused on the agonizingly drawn-out movements of his hips to yours.

“I love you, Loki,” you cried as he slammed against you. You squeezed around him finally pushing him off that edge. Loosening the tight hold he had on his pleasure and pouring it all into you. The wave of bliss hit you hard and you came onto his throbbing cock at the same time.  

Spent and panting next to you, Loki held you close. His kisses were endless. Your cheeks and jaw would be bruised tomorrow from the affection he was showering you with. His hands were always touching you. Your neck, your face. Your thigh that was wrapped around his legs. You lost all track of time being with the god of mischief and soon the bright sunlight that trickled down to the forest floor was replaced by the harsh glare of the greenhouse overhead lamp.

Loki had little strength left to keep the illusion up any longer. He seemed weary but content. You kissed him fleetingly as you sat up back to reality. “Stay,” he said softly. “The one thing I didn’t say last time…I’m saying it now. Don’t go. Stay.” His hands held yours tightly.

So many feelings were attached to that one word. The weight of it crushing your heart. “I’m not asking you to give up your life. I’m not asking you to stay just for the night either. I’m asking for you to just be,” he smiled at you. “Be who you want to be and I will support you like I should have.”

You crawled back to him, settling your head on your propped-up elbows, while your other hands played with the buttons on his shirt. “And if I decide to go?”

“Then I’ll do the one thing I should’ve done last time but didn’t.” he smiled as you looked at him expectantly. “I’ll follow you.”

A/N: This was a request sent in and I'm sorry to say it took this long for me to finish it. I hope you like it my lovely @gruftiela. I tried to stick to the vibe of the song. But I also added lyrics from one of my other favorite Depeche Mode songs. See if you can spot it 😝.

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish

[frvnkcastles]

ENOUGH FOR ME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: It’s Frank’s birthday and you just want him to know he’s important.

Warnings: Language, minor mention of injuries, mostly just fluff :)

Word count: 1.3k

Author’s note: Happy Frank Castle Day <33 Just a small break from all the trauma content to celebrate our best guy’s birthday with something fluffy and friends-to-lovers adjacent. Enjoy :)

”It’s your birthday?!” Your voice was nothing short of shocked as you looked up from Frank’s bloody abdomen where your haphazardly done stitches adorned his toned body, your eyes scanning his for any sign of humor, but he stared back at you completely serious and unwavering. He had just made an off-handed comment about turning forty-four, and the admission had shaken you to your core — you didn’t even have a card for him!

”Yeah”, Frank shrugged, ”it ain’t that big of a deal, sweetheart.”

You were positively astounded and, with all your might, entirely of another opinion. The man did so much for the city, for people like you — whether they appreciated or not — and the least he deserved was some appreciation in return. You tried your best to show him some without crossing any lines, as you were still just friends, after all. And surely, had you only known, you would have gotten something for his special day, or at least gotten ahead of him and wished him a happy birthday to make sure he knew he was remembered and thought of.

Instead, he had been fighting all night and gotten a nasty wound from a knife on his stomach, leaving him bleeding on your couch, like it was any other sucky night.

”You don’t like celebrating it?” you questioned, supposing that he had had plenty of traditions with his family, and that his celebrating of the occasion had died with them. You were pretty sure he knew that was a part of your question, at least the look he gave you was one of the obvious kind, but he still graced you with an answer.

”Nah. I don’t hate it, but I dunno”, he contemplated, ”just doesn’t feel that important. Curt comes over a beer usually and that’s about it.” You nodded while handing his shirt back over to him and starting to pack up the first-aid kit on your coffee table.

”So… would you mind if I did something small next year?” you asked sheepishly, the gift-giver and avid acts-of-service person inside you itching to come out. Somehow, Frank had become one of the most important people in your life, and to you, his birthday felt like an occasion to mark in some way, at least.

”You think you’re gonna be starin’ at my ugly mug for a whole ’nother year?” he grinned while pulling his shirt over his head. The self-deprecating joke got a disapproving look from you, and he simply chuckled. ”Sure. If you really want to. But you gotta tell me your birthday, too.”

So you did. And exactly a year later, on his forty-fifth birthday, you had lived up to your promise. You suspected he had forgotten all about it in the past 364 days, but at least it would make it an even sweeter surprise.

”Would love it if you came over tonight. No pressure, it’s not life-or-death. Just thought we could hang.” You sent your text message to him before you could overthink it too much. Should he not turn up, the worst case scenario was that you’d get to eat an entire cake by yourself — not a half-bad situation to find yourself in.

But, despite his tendency to only show up after getting himself in trouble, he ended up sending you a text message back.

”I’ll be there.”

As the hours ticked by, you realized you maybe should have agreed on a time. Nonetheless, you refused to let sleepiness take over, even when midnight dragged over and your jaw stretched with a yawn. You had spent the entire evening switching between your living room couch and the kitchen counter, impatient and nervous about how the night would unfold — a part of you hoped he would be surprised, but there was no telling if it would be a good surprise or not.

It was nearly 1 AM when there was a knock at your door, and you came to life at the sound. You rushed to answer the door, a sincere smile curling your lips high up when you found Frank waiting on the other side, a bottle of wine in his hands and a curious look in his eyes. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you realized the coyness in your message, and how he may have interpreted it, but you surely didn’t oppose whatever ideas he was coming over with.

”You okay? I know you said it ain’t anythin’ serious, but…”, he wondered while stepping across the threshold and shrugging off his jacket. You carried the wine bottle into the kitchen, and he followed you, only stopping when he saw all the food you had prepared. ”Shit. Guess it’s good I came prepared”, he added, and you chuckled nervously.

”I’m okay. I just wanted to do something for you”, you confessed, twisting your fingers as you watched him take it all in and process.

”You really didn’t have to, sweetheart”, he chuckled before licking his lips and tilting his head at you, ”what’s the occasion?”

You stared back at him, trying to discern whether or not he was messing around with you, but his eyes seemed honestly surprised and maybe even a hint confused. ”It’s—it’s your birthday, Frank”, you stammered, your internal alarm bells going off. Shitshitshit, it’s too much, you did way too much!

Frank covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a laugh. ”Goddamn. It is, ain’t it? Shit. I haven’t been keepin’ track of the days at all lately”, he snorted, and at his amused reaction, you managed to relax a little. Maybe it wasn’t a lost cause yet.

”Yeah, so… I didn’t want to do anything too overwhelming. I just thought I could feed you for once and—and there’s cake for dessert”, you explained hesitantly, and if only you hadn’t avoided his gaze, you would have seen his eyes visibly soften, his lips twitching with a small smile.

”Hey, that’s really fuckin’ sweet of you. Wow. Dunno what I did to deserve this”, Frank exhaled, a little taken aback but letting his smile take over — a good sign in your books. Even more so was the way he stepped over to you and gently cradled your head so he could kiss your forehead, brief but sweet and definitely welcoming blush to your face.

”You didn’t have to do anything, Frank. But for the record, you do a whole lot. You keep this city safe. You keep me safe. You bring so much peace to more people than I can even imagine, and you don’t get any thanks for it. And beyond that… you’re a good friend. And a good person. And I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really appreciate and cherish you and I—I don’t know what I’d do without you anymore”, you rambled away, your heartrate picking up when he chose to stay right in front of you, his hand fallen to your neck as he stood only inches away.

Frank nodded slowly. ”No one’s told me anythin’ like that in a long time”, he admitted quietly, and for a second, you wondered if you had broken a boundary. ”Thank you, sweetheart. Can’t tell you what it means to me”, he continued, however, calming your nerves just enough to crack a smile at him.

”Well, we might have to reheat the food but it’s a good thing you brought this over”, you cleared your throat and gestured at the wine, and with a soft chuckle, Frank nodded.

”Hey”, he spoke once more, and instinctively, you looked up at him, despite the immense feeling of vulnerability that rendered you silent under his gaze. ”I’preciate you, too.”

With a shy smile, you placed a hand over his heart, and hoped to radiate all the warmth, gratitude and love you had for him.

”Happy birthday, Frank.”

[gyll-yee-haw]

Might I make a humble request? How about a virgin reader having her first time with Jake, and there's lots of nervousness and they go slow... just thoughts that won't leave me alone. Thank you!

Hii, baby! I've selected your humble request to be our Valentine's Day Special ❤❤ thank you so much for inspiring me! Hope you love it <3

Warnings: virgin!reader, virginity loss, masturbation (f), dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, innocence kink, creampie, Jake being the sweetest bestest bf ever... happy valentine's day everyone 🌹

Like 3.2k words

---

You and Jake had been dating for a few months, and today was your very first Valentine’s day together. You were beyond excited, especially after waking up to flowers and a sweet letter being delivered at your door. 

He had been working a lot lately, but that night… he was all yours. You had plans for dinner and all.

You spent all day getting ready. You wanted to look breathtaking for him. Bubble Bath, moisturizing, perfume… you did it all. And finished by putting on the dress he bought you himself. It was simple and hugged your body in the right places. Jake had taste.

Your efforts were worth it. When he picked you up later that night, he was blown away by how beautiful you looked.  It was almost too much for him. He could feel himself getting flushed just standing in your presence. Your beauty got him weak in the knees, he was just so in love with you.

—

Dinner was very nice. It always was. No one made you laugh quite like Jake did. No one would hear you talk for hours and never lose interest. With him it was so different… the biggest proof was that he never took advantage of you. Most guys would do anything to get you in their bed as soon as possible, but not him. He was waiting for the right moment. 

If we’re being honest… Jake wasn’t in a hurry at all. He wanted you, he wanted you badly. But he enjoyed having a relationship like yours… so different from all he ever had. So slow and pure. Every single detail proved that you loved each other for who you truly were.

You, on the other hand… well. The word wasn’t hurry, it’s just that you felt ready. You trusted him. You craved him. Especially after nights like this. All you wanted was to go home with him and just… do what other couples do. 

And tonight seemed like the perfect night. It was a special occasion, you felt confident with the way you looked… something about him removing the dress he bought for you… it just felt right and you couldn’t stop thinking about it since you put it on. And that’s why you were planning to bring it on tonight.

"So... not long until Road House premiers, huh?" You smirked. “Are you excited?”

"Oh God…" He laughed nervously. “I haven’t been this excited for a movie in a while.”

“I know… I can tell.” You laughed too. “I’m so proud of you.”

He grew a little bit emotional hearing you say that. Your support over the last months had been crucial. He would never be able to thank you enough for it.

He squeezed your hand, looking at you with a soft smile. You knew that was a good night to admit to him how you felt… the chemistry between the two of you was strong enough to give you the courage.

"You're... so beautiful." he said, as his eyes traced your curves and he took in all of your features.

"Fuck." You whispered to yourself.

"What’s wrong, honey?" He leaned in towards you.

"Can I tell you something?" You asked, staring at his lips at this new proximity.

“Always, baby.” He said sincerely.

“I’m losing my mind over the promotional pictures and videos… I… can’t wait for the movie, of course, but it’s just… God, you look so hot.”

“Wow, thanks, baby.” He laughed, taking a sip of his wine. 

“No, you don’t get it…” You looked down at your plate. “I feel… all warm inside, you know…”

“Hmm…” He started to understand where the conversation was going, but decided to tease you a little more… he wanted you to say the words. “Well, that’s normal, baby, I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yeah… guess you’re right.” You realized the game he was playing. And you would play it too. “Sometimes… while you were away I just had to take care of it. Alone in my room. Of that warm feeling, I mean.”

“How?” He felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest.

“Had to touch myself.” You admitted. “Pretending you were right there… always thinking of you.”

"Yeah? Well, you're a good girl for it." he whispered in your ear.

"Am I?" You felt… good about the compliment. He had never spoken to you in that tone before.

"Oh... you don't even realize. You're a perfect girl. I’m happy to know you’ve been taking care of yourself… feeling good." His hand went to your thigh, caressing it slowly. “And thinking about me. I’m truly honored to hear that.”

The hand on your thigh, the voice in your ear, the words he was saying…

"Jake..." You whispered to him. "I... need... hmmm..."

"What do you need, my love? Do you need some loving? Attention? Do you need me to take care of you?" He asked, with a smirk.

"Yes… want you to take care of me, fuck... can we please go to your car?"

His eyes lightened up immediately.

"Of course, honey." He replied with a smirk.

Jake made sure to leave a fat tip on the table before standing up and guiding you to his car.

He opened the door for you, before taking the driver’s seat. You started to feel nervous again, and he noticed it.

“Do you feel uncomfortable, honey? I promise you are safe. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

"I'm... I'm just nervous" You admitted. "But I do want you... I need you"

"It doesn't have to be tonight." He assured you.

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you with so much warmth and affection.

"Will you kiss me?" You asked, almost whispered.

He didn’t think twice, bringing his face closer to yours. The kiss was sweet and gentle, as a symbol of how things would be with him when the time came.

His body was tense. He was probably more nervous than you. Terrified of pushing you over your comfort zone. If anything, tonight had to be perfect.

"We're going to take our time with this.” He promised. “And I'm going to make sure that everything is perfect for you, okay?"

He kept kissing you slowly, hand back on your thigh.

"I'm so lucky to have you." You smiled against his lips.

His fingers brushed your inner thighs, making you spread them automatically. 

"Will you tell me when to stop?" He breathed heavily, eyes growing darker.

"Yeah… not gonna happen…" You chuckled.

He laughed, shaking his head.

"Will you help me? You’re not away anymore…" You smiled, maintaining eye contact while you pulled your underwear down slowly. His face was priceless… he knew that he had to keep his composure in order to stay in control of the situation, but…

You parted your legs, giving him a better view. "So wet, see? It's what you do to me."

"Oh my God..." He whispered, running a hand down your thigh. You almost couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

"Jake? Have you done it too?” You asked as your fingers started to work slowly on yourself. “Pleasured yourself thinking of me?"

"Fuck, baby, so many times…” He admitted. “You turn me on like no one else ever has."

"Fuck..." You moaned, working a little faster as you tried to imagine what he looked like doing that.

He just couldn’t believe the scene before his eyes… His innocent girl… It was like a fantasy coming to life and he barely had the words to describe how he felt.

"You’re beyond perfect, my darling." He said, eyes glued to your pussy.

"Will you touch me? Please…?" You gave him your sweetest doe eyes.

His face was nothing but desire as your fingers were replaced by his.

"I want to touch you... all over your body... feel every inch of your skin..." He whispered. "Make you feel so good..."

His fingers started to move faster and your hips bucked against his hand. The noises you were making had him throbbing in his pants.

"You like it when I touch you, love?" He asked sweetly. “Are you gonna cum for me? Show me how pretty you look when you cum?”

"Keep going, oh my god..." You nodded desperately.

He leaned in closer, kissing your neck.

"I'm so close, Jake... please, don't stop..."

His heart was racing… he wanted to please you so badly. His fingers went faster and the eye contact made you break.

“Jake! Oh fuck…” You gasped, feeling your orgasm wash over you.

He watched as your breathing went back to normal, a big smile on both of your faces.

"Are you okay, love?" He took your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to give it a kiss. “You did so well for me, I’m so proud of you.”

"I can't believe how good that was..." You sighed, almost dreamy. “It was… different from when I do it… so much better.”

"You deserve the best, princess.” He assured you with nothing but love in his eyes. “I told you I'd take care of you..."

"But…" You struggled to find the words.

“What, baby?” He chuckled. “Need anything else?”

“I… well…” You smiled shyly. “I wanna go all the way. With you.”

—

It all happened too fast... but somehow not fast enough. You needed more. You needed to belong to him like you never belonged to anyone before.

Next thing you knew was that you two were on his bed, you straddling him.

"Yeah? You wanna be a good girl and sit on my cock, sweetheart?"

"Yes..." Your brain was absolutely shut by the possibility, you weren't thinking very well...

But then it hit you... you weren't that sure what to do... for fucks sake, you had not even touched a cock, ever. How were you supposed to do that? Oh God, he would absolutely hate it... you can't afford for him to hate it, not with the thousands of girls who wanted to be in your place.

"Are you okay, baby?" He could see the doubts and worries on your face. "Remember we don't have to do this now. Only when you are ready. I would glady end the night here if...

"No!" You weren't even trying not to sound desperate anymore. "I want you so bad, Jake... I'm just... not sure if I wanna be on top, you know? I..."

"Don't worry about that, honey." He said, sweetly, stroking your arms reassuringly. "Tell me how you want it."

"Hmmm..." You couldn't maintain eye contact because you were a little embarrassed. "I mean, when I imagined this, I always... I mean, it doesn't have to be, if you think it's lame and borning, I... I mean..."

"Talk to me, baby. Clearly." He grabbed your chin very gently, making you look him in eye. He had the kind of smirk that indicated he already knew what you wanted. "We have to be open with each other, you know. So we can make it work. There's no reason to be ashamed of anything. Whenever you have any kind of wish, I want you to tell me, okay? Want you to ask me nicely. I'll do whatever you want, as long as you say the words."

"Okay." You smiled shyly. "Can... can we just go missionary? Only this time, I think... it would be less scary."

"Who told you missionary is lame and boring?" He couldn't contain his laugh.

"I don't know... the internet?" You laughed too. "I was just trying to impress you."

"Oh, sweetheart..." He said very sweetly. "There's nothing in the world I would prefer right now. Wanna be able to kiss you and watch every single expression and little sound you make for me, yeah? Don't wanna miss a thing."

You could feel your skin burn. God, you needed him.

"Will you take off your pretty little dress for me?" He asked, as he unbuttoned his shirt.

You didn't think twice.

He had forgotten by a brief second that your underwear was lost somewhere in his car, leaving you now completely naked on his lap.

"Oh baby..." He stopped everything for a moment. To look at you in a way no man ever looked before. And not because you never had sex before... that look wasn't lust, it was passion. "You're so fucking beautiful... lay on your back for me, I don't... fuck, I can't wait much longer."

You giggled at how much he sounded like a fool for you. He was insanely in love.

You did as he said, and watched eagerly as he removed the rest of his clothes. Your eyes widened as you saw his erection. It made your mouth water. You couldn't believe it was about to be inside you.

"Jake..."

"Yes, sweet thing?" He asked, worried.

"Need you." You whined.

He chuckled, laying on top of you.

"You're adorable, did you know that?" He said, giving you a quick kiss. "Are you ready, my love?"

"Yes, ready." You nodded.

Nervousness came back to your belly as you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your folds.

"We'll start slowly, okay? Tell me if it's too much, please." He pushed the tip inside and lost a bit of posture. "Fuck, you're so wet..."

He started trusting like that, just the tip. Slowly. Moaning because of the way you squeezed his girth so tightly.

"Please, talk to me..." He asked. You had gone silent without noticing, just because you were enjoying it more than you could have imagined.

"Jake... it feels wonderful..." You smiled at him. "So good..."

"Yeah?" He smiled back. "Can I get a litte deeper?"

You nodded excitedly. Oh... so there was it... the pain people talked about. But it wasn't too much. You could take it. You were proud of yourself.

"Good girl..." He praised, keeping the movements slow. "Almost all the way in, angel."

"That's..." Your eyes widened. "That's not all?"

He would have laughed, but he had to use all his strength to hold himself back and not cum right there. It was only your first time and you had already unlocked 2 new kinks for him: size and innocence.

"We can... well, I can stop here, if..." He was looking for the words, but the look in your eyes had him losing it.

"No..." You frowned. "Want all of it."

"Are you sure, baby?" He asked, and you nodded. "Fuck..."

He probably wasn't even halfway there, because if felt like an eternity for him to push the rest inside.

"Such a brave little girl, taking me so well..." He said, kissing your neck, hands squeezing your tits, all he could do to make you relax.

"Hurts a bit..." You admitted.

"I know, angel." He continued the kisses, still not moving his hips. "But it's gonna feel good, I promise."

"Hmmm...Jake..." You felt your eyes fill with tears.

"What is it, baby?" He looked at you absolutely heartbroken. "Did I hurt you?"

"No..." You tried to explain something not even you understood that well. "I just want you so bad..."

"Baby!" He chuckled. "You don't have to cry... I'm gonna give you absolutely anything, you understand me? Fuck... gonna make you feel so fucking good... can I move now, princess? You think...?"

"Yes, Jake... what you...hm... what you were doing before felt so good."

"I know." He pulled out half of his cock, pushing it back again, watching your face. "Felt so good for me too... you're squeezing me so good I..."

"Do that again." You interrupted him.

"What?" He repeated his movement.

"Fuck!" You moaned. "You're so deep!"

"Y/N..." He felt like he was the one who was about to cry now. "You have no idea what you're doing to me..."

"Am I turning you on?" You chuckled.

"No, baby, you turn me on when you give me that pretty smile, when you kiss me... right now you're driving me insane." He admitted. "Do you think... I can go a little faster than this?"

"Yes..." You nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Fuck, baby, thank you." He moaned, hips starting to actually thrust now.

It was surely a lot more painful than what he was doing before. But the way you felt so full... the way you slowly began to get those goosebumps when he hit a certain spot...

"Princess?" He called. "Are you feeling good?"

You nodded, huge smile on your face. Jake couldn't help but kiss that smile.

"Yeah?" He continued. "Fuck, I'm feeling so good... we gonna keep it slow for today, okay? Nice and slow..."

You were dying to discover new sensations with him, but you were grateful for taking it slow for now.

"But..." You said, a little worried. "Do you think... do you think it's enough?"

"What do you mean, love?" He asked, hips keeping a nice pace.

"Is it... enough for you to cum?" You asked shyly.

"Oh my sweet girl..." He moaned. "Forget all you read online, okay? I don't need to be mean and hurt you... I'm feeling so good right now, I'm actually holding it back... don't want it to end."

"Don't want you to hold it back." You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Yeah?" He bit his lip, trying to keep calm. "Will you do something for me, angel? Before I let go, I want you to cum one more time, do you think you can do that?"

"I don't know..." You panicked a little. "It feels very good, but..."

"I know, baby." His lips went back to your neck. "Want you to touch your sweet little clit like you did earlier in the car... do you think you could do that?"

You nodded, hand going down, looking for your clit. It was so swollen at that point, that just a gentle brush of your fingers sent electricity through your body. And Jake's cock somehow felt bigger...

"Fuck, baby!" He seemed to feel that too. "You have no idea how good it feels when you squeeze me like that... fucking need you to cum..."

"Hmmm..." You moaned as you started to rub it really good. His words alone where sending you to the edge.

You began to get spasms as you felt yourself getting really close. Everytime it happened, Jake would let out the hottest grunt in the world. You felt like crying again.

"Jake..." You moaned, all your body tensing up.

"Do it, sweetheart, cum for me now, please..." He accidentally started going a little faster. Not as fast as he wanted, but faster than before.

"Jake!!!" You gasped. "Don't stop, don't stop, I... I'm gonna cum..."

"Yes, princess, fucking cum for me, cum for me... shit."

The way you screamed his name and squeezed him sent him to another dimension.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum, fuck, is that okay?" He asked trying to hide his desperation. "Don't think I can pull out, you're squeezing me too good..."

"No! Don't pull out..." You replied, absolutely cock drunk. "Keep going!"

Oh man, that did it for him. He grabbed the sheets so hard, still afraid to hurt you. Then, with a deep thrust, he lost himself inside you. Gave you every last drop of his release, not being able to hold back his loud grunts.

"Happy Valentine's day!" You said excitedly, watching him trying to catch his breath. "Did you like your present?"

"Fuck..." He collapsed on your chest. "It was the best present ever, my sweet angel."