#i want him to be happy pinch those cheeks watch him smile

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

”what did i tell you about dancing in the rain, hm?”

baizhu sits on a chair to your right, gracing you with a slight tilt of his head — his soft gaze aimed towards you, curled up beneath the blankets, bleary eyes and a cute pout on your lips. he sounds playful, but admonishing; a doctor’s gentle chiding. 

you fidget with the bedding, white sheets between your fingers, and stare down at your lap. petulant.

”… i wasn’t dancing,” you mutter, and a hum comes from your lover. patient, as always.

”what would you call it, then?” he asks, voice dripping with honeyed amusement, amber eyes flickering with mirth. glasses catching the light of the lamp on your nightstand. ”playing?”

a tiny huff sparks in the back of your throat, dry and clogged. you still won’t catch his gaze, but you feel it — and it’s hard to resist its call. hard to resist any of him, when you’re like this, sleepy and meek. when he sounds so enamored with you.

so you sigh.

”… i wanted to get you those herbs.”

another tilt of his head. his bangs sway with the movement, viridescent curtains ghosting against his skin — followed by an inquisitive hum. buzzing in the back of his throat, beckoning you to continue. 

so you do; parting your lips, trying not to wince at the sound of your own voice, cracked and jagged at the edges like pieces of shattered glass. awfully strained. it hurts a little to speak, despite the copious amount of tea he had you drink, honey and lemon still fresh on your tongue. 

”the ones you were talking about. that bloom when it rains.” you gnaw at your bottom lip, trapping the tender flesh between your teeth. withholding a disgruntled huff. ”… but i couldn’t root them up.”

it was a sorry sight. you, crouched down on the ground, shivering from the onslaught of raindrops — failing to pluck even a single piece of flora from the ground. getting mud all over your clothes.

(you just wanted to make him happy.)

baizhu falls silent. you still aren’t meeting his eyes, so you can’t see the turmoil in them; can’t see the indiscernible emotion swirling around his pupils, behind that layer of glass. something strained, shaky, hard to pinpoint. displeased.

silently, silently, he watches you. the flicker of your restless fingers, the pinch between your brows, that little frown on your lips. you look shy. and you’re sick, forehead hot to the touch, sniveling and coughing — all because of…

…

a soft inhale. he breathes out through his nose, suffocating the tinge of guilt in his burning lungs.

baizhu leans forward, hand reaching for your cheek — smoothing his knuckles over your heated skin. tenderly, tenderly, as if you’re a wounded bird. 

then he speaks.

”the rain makes them bloom, but it also makes the soil clump together with their roots.” his voice takes on an educational tone, soothing to your ears. ”ideally, you’d wait for the ground to stabilize before plucking them — the timing is particularly important.”

he looks deep into your eyes, abyssal orbs of amber pulling you into their view. he’s speaking softly, now, as if lulling you to sleep. treating you like you’re fragile. made of glass.

(his poor, sweet darling.)

baizhu exhales, pulling back reluctantly. smiling softly, as if to mend the damage his explanation may have caused. ”that’s most likely why it was difficult for you.”

you blink. once, then twice, the wheel of your mind sluggishly spinning with the newfound information; until a pout slips into the curve of your lips, heat crawling up your neck. 

just as he thought — you’re embarrassed.

he smiles. speaking, again, with a molten voice; honeyed, sweetened vowels, soft as a bird’s feather. barely above a whisper. ”thank you, honey.”

a shake of your head. ”no, it’s —” you try to protest, stumbling for words, only to erupt in a sudden sneeze. like a little kitten.

his smile grows.

”oh dear,” he grabs a tissue from the nightstand, quick to rub circles into the small of your back. helping you blow your nose, checking your temperature with the back of his hand. ”i think it’s time to take your medicine again…”

and you whine. almost groaning, at the thought of swallowing another spoonful of the bitter, bitter brew — homemade, prescribed by the greatest doctor in all of liyue. your very own lover.

… but it just tastes so awful.

”… sweetie,” he starts, a coaxing coo on his tongue; watching as you turn on your side, nuzzling into a big, fluffy pillow. cutting him off before he can convince you to behave.

”i don’t wanna…” you protest, muffled by the fabric. a tiny, tiny groan.

”i know,” he croons. already reaching for the bowl of crushed herbs and bitter goo. ”but you need to. come here.”

a pause. you want to resist, but you can’t — you’re too sleepy, too eager to listen to the warm voice by your side. so you only make a disgruntled noise, barely there at all, struggling to lift yourself up.

thankfully, you don’t have to. baizhu is quick to steady you with his cold palms, cradling you close, helping you sit up; spine against the headboard. then he’s gathering a spoonful of medicine, lifting it towards your mouth, hand under your chin so nothing drips down. the wooden spoon breaches your lips — and you hesitate, for a second, before closing your mouth around it. gulping it down, a bitter taste sticking to the walls of your esophagus.

an agonized, disgusted little noise pushes past your lips. you shudder. 

baizhu exhales a breath, smelling of mint, laced with relief. he studies you with a firm gaze — something rather pleased. ”there we are,” his thumb goes to wipe at the corner of your bottom lip. ”thank you, my dear.”

both of you fall silent. you slump against the headboard, blinking drowsily, accepting the glass he places in your hands; greedily gulping down the water. and baizhu watches you, tapping his fingers on the pad of his knee, a tell-tale sign that he’s deep in thought. earrings swaying with every little absent tilt of his head. 

finally, he breaks the silence.

”… you know,” he begins, a low rumble of his chest, heart beating securely behind his ribs. thrumming to the rhythm of your slow blinks. ”i don’t actually need those herbs.”

you look up to meet his gaze. his pretty, pretty eyes, the gold frames of his glasses, the glint that tells you he’s being sincere. a little tell.

he inhales, slowly, dragging the syllables out. they spill from his lips like a badly-kept secret, in tune with the motion of his fingers, reaching out to brush through your bangs. he smiles.

”i already have my little flower right here.”

…

before he can say anything else, you’re fleeing — flopping down on your side, facing away from him, hoping he won’t see the cherry red hue of your ears. muttering under your breath.

”you’re so cheesy, baizhu.”

a chuckle leaves his lips. almost a coo, something soft and amused, watching you hide from his affection.

”i am, aren’t i? i’m sorry.” he doesn’t look very remorseful. ”did i embarrass you?”

all he gets in response is a scratchy grumble. he withholds another smile, barely, a kind of joy rising to the surface of his chest.

(he can’t help it, when you’re like this.)

after a moment, he opts to stand up; leaning over to plant a kiss against your tousled hair. ”get some rest, darling,” comes a soothing murmur. a plea, if you strain your ears enough. ”i’ll go make some more medicine. just in case.”

a whine resounds from beneath him. 

he stifles a chuckle, silky voice filling your ears, weighing down your fuzzy, sleepy mind. baizhu pulls back, opening the cabinet right beside him — and you close your eyes, sinking further into the mattress. listening to the lullaby of your lover rummaging through bottles of painkillers, vials of medicine, settling on the bowl of bitter herbs.

you stifle another groan.

”i know, i know.”

[haikyu-mp4]

Proud captain

word count; 801 – gn!reader, set during Yamaguchi's third year

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

The first- and second-years were easy to hype up as if they weren’t excited enough already to go to Karasuno. All the crows gave you their best poses and you were pretty content by the time you got to the third-years.

You started with the most impatient ones, chuckling softly at how Kageyama and Hinata bickered with each other. Then Tsukishima would make a rude comment behind you and you couldn’t help but laugh even more. Overall a very good time. By the time you got to Yamaguchi, Kageyama and Hinata had gone back to practice. Yamaguchi looked nervously at his best friend, cursing him mentally when the tall blonde just barely smirked and excused himself before leaving.

“You ready, captain?” you asked, flashing him a sweet smile.

“I think so,” he said with a nervous chuckle, walking over to the spot while twiddling his thumbs. “Not that anyone will be looking at me with a team like mine,” he added under his breath. It was supposed to reflect how much he appreciated his teammates but ended up exposing how he worried about not standing out instead.

“Try to look confident.” You made a thinking face, but lifted the camera anyway, wanting to see how he posed naturally before making any assumptions.

He didn’t look that confident. Maybe he had been before, but after seeing his friends’ strong statures, the excitement slowly wore off. After a couple of shots where he admittedly looked a bit awkward, you smiled softly at him and put the camera down. However, you didn’t even get to say something before he sighed. “I want to look like the captain,” he complained, looking determined and dejected at the same time, which you found quite impressive. “Proud and level-headed.” His mind went to Daichi and Ennoshita, and how they always trusted both themselves and the team enough to be strong captains.

“But you are the captain. A very handsome captain, if my opinion matters,” you said, butterflies in your stomach as a light pink flush blended with his freckles. “You’re the best pinch server Karasuno has and one of the best they ever had from what I heard.”

“You think I’m h-handsome?” he asked, biting the inside of his lip.

“Obviously! I’ve watched some of your games, now try to imagine how it feels when you send those cool serves that totally throw off the other team. The whole crowd erupts in loud cheers and your team cheers in relief as you get them ahead one point after another.” you further encouraged him, getting fired up yourself and perhaps rambling a bit. It resulted in your cheeks flushing too, and the two of you looked at each other for a few seconds before settling into your places again and trying to get the perfect shot.

“Thank you, y/n. Let’s do this.”

In the end, you were so happy looking through all the pictures, Yamaguchi looked over your shoulder, laughing with you at the ones where you caught some of the other players in unfortunate moments. This project would be great, you could already feel it. “Your team is lucky to have you,” you cooed, noticing how he cared for each player as he gave you some notes to use for each player's profile.

Yamaguchi felt proud of his team and the pictures, it felt like an adrenaline rush. “I could help you out some other time so you have all the right information, but I need to get back to practice. Maybe we can meet for lunch tomorrow?” he asked, thriving off the adrenaline while he dared to ask you. It’s not really asking you out for a date, but it’s a start.

“That sounds amazing.”

Tsukishima couldn’t help the little smile on his face as his best friend came back to practice with a wild blush, wide smile and spring in his step. Success.

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust @nagi-core

[enralis]

[sanatomis]

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ 4:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. fluff, established relationships, sleepy n cuddly toru :(, just needed to write this to cope with the 236 manga leaks i guess. i just love him tons sobs i need him happy and loved and peaceful

“hey,” you poke satoru’s chest, hearing a low groan rumble under your cheek, “toru?”

“hmm?” oh. he sounds a little tired—maybe you should let him sleep.

“you awake?” you ask anyway.

“am now,” he mumbles—well, he’s already awake, so you might as well indulge in it now. “need somethin’, sweetheart?”

“jus’ missed you is all,” you pout—that makes him grin despite the way he yawns, all wide and smooth even as he fights the sleep in his eyes. you feel just a bit guilty, reaching to cup his cheek and running a thumb over his eyelid carefully.

“yeah?” he chuckles quietly, “‘m right here. you still miss me?”

“yeah,” you whisper, “always miss you. even when you’re right here.”

satoru’s grinning into your cheek as he leans down and presses a wet kiss to the skin—he can’t possibly be mad that you’ve woken him so late. he can’t be mad when it’s you, and it’s him, and it’s each other.

sleep can wait, there’s always time for that later. but there’s never a moment where he wants to risk counting on later when it comes to you.

“what’d you miss about me?” he hums, nibbling on your earlobe as his head buries into your neck. you shift, letting his body tuck against yours as your arms wrap around him—he feels safe like this, somehow. infinity doesn’t make him feel nearly as secure as the way your arms do, tight and warm and made just for holding him.

“dunno,” you murmur, “everything.”

“love me that much?” he asks cheekily, “me sleeping right beside you isn’t enough?”

“no,” you huff, “you can’t pay attention to me in your sleep.”

“my needy baby,” he snickers, rubbing circles into the small of your back with his large palm. he’s warm against you—you can feel the rhythm of his heart as it beats against your body. he’s pressed so close to you, that not even air can slip through the cracks.

truthfully, you don’t know why you wake satoru. you don’t know why you can’t sleep—you just know that you need him. here. now. always. forever. more and more and more and even more.

“toru?” you ask quietly, making him hum as his eyes droop back shut slowly—he must really be tired.

you stare at him fondly, stroking his hair as he sighs happily at the feeling. and then you press a kiss to his forehead, to his cheek, to the corner of his eyes where they crinkle when he smiles, and to those lips of his that always find yours no matter how long it takes.

he always comes back to you. always. he never won’t—that much you trust.

“got somethin’ on your mind, baby?” he asks slowly, voice thick with sleep. you giggle, scratching at his scalp as he smiles lightly.

he dozing off—you watch him, hopelessly endeared.

“i love you,” you whisper, “need you to know that. love you so, so much. kay?”

he cracks an eye open—stares at you like you’re the reason his heart ever started beating, like you’re the only one that could ever command it to stop. every inch of his face is laced with love so gentle, you can see the way it makes his skin glow.

you love him. you’re sure he loves you. that’s all you need to know it’ll be fine. everything else is an afterthought—just as long as you have satoru.

“woke me just to confess your love for me?” he gasps, “you’re down bad. real, real bad. i must be a super handsome, totally awesome boyfriend. i do try,” he says cheekily.

you giggle, rolling your eyes as you pinch his cheek.

“be humble, you jerk,” you say exasperatedly.

it sounds more like you’re in love. too much fondness slipping into your voice that it might make your teeth hurt from how sweet. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, though—he accepts your love graciously, like it’s never too much.

if fact, it might just not be enough. he needs more, more, more.

“can’t,” he says slowly, yawning again, “you waking me up just to love me is a bit ego boosting.”

“this was a mistake,” you scoff—its playful, it’s fond. it sounds like deeply falling headfirst.

“aw c’mon,” he pouts—and then he’s brushing his lips against your neck a he clings closer to you, curling into your body with his six-foot-something stature as you pull the blanket tighter around him, “love you too. what was it you said again? oh, right—so, so much.”

“good,” you hum, nodding in satisfaction. “you better.”

“i do,” he chuckles, “can i sleep now? or are we gonna start talking about all the things we love about each other? cause i can stay up to listen to that, of course.”

“go to sleep, you idiot,” you scoff.

he grins. you press one last kiss to his forehead as you count the soft breaths he takes while he falls back asleep.

you love him—it’s all you ever want to do.

i cried while writing this and i cried thinking about the leaks and i cried while reading the leaks and i cried and cried and i’m tired of crying. gege when i catch you gege 🔫

[cherryredcheol]

"angel"

tldr: all the way mingyu uses the petname he calls you.

a/n: this is my first fic ever, please be kind.

coos: when he’s trying to get what he wants.

“angel” he looks at you from across the store. you turn your head and wish you hadn’t. As soon as you catch those eyes, you know its over for you. You don’t even know what he wants and you’re already prepared to do anything to give it to him. 

“wear these matching outfits with me?” he asks with the biggest grin on his face. you laugh, immediately nodding along to his idea, knowing how happy it would make him. 

“i can take cute pictures of us and set it as my wallpaper on my phone,” he rambles on, browsing the rack for your size in the unisex shirt he just had to have with you, “...been needing a new one.” 

groans: when you get up to leave. 

“annnnngeeeel” you hear from deep within the sheets. you thought he was asleep, that's why you pecked him so lightly on the cheek before pulling the covers off yourself. you did not expect his gruff voice to hit you so early in the morning. you actually were not expecting to hear it at all today since you had to be at work early. 

“stay a few more minutes. take a shorter shower, do less skincare, just stay in bed,” he begged. how could you say no to him? so you concede. tucking yourself back into the bed. he takes this moment to pull you in tight. 

“mmmm,” he hums. you feel the vibration in your back, where his warm chest was practically enmeshed in you. “sorry about your skin care in advance”

yells: when he needs your attention right this second. 

“angel!” he shouts when he looks up and you weren’t watching him like you promised you would be. The practice room was echoey so it was louder than he intended but it got your attention. You turned away from Seungcheol, brow raised, holding a finger up politely to pause the conversation you were engaged in. 

“you missed my move!” he pouted, stomping his feet very dramatically as he huffed across the room to you. you looked at him ready to apologize and ask him to show you again in a second when his hand wrapped around your wrist. 

“come on,” he said with a little determined frown, brows creasing. he leads you directly to the mirrored wall up front. “sit right here and watch me kill this. you’ll be so proud i finally got this down.” 

moans: when you’re behind him.

“angel” his eyes flutter shut as he feels your soft lips press behind his ear. your arms were wrapped around his waist just so and he could smell your perfume, making his head spin. 

“should we go home?” he felt you nod against his back and he smiled. he knew what this meant when you were needy like this. he knew his night was far from over and he was happy to leave this stuffy party anyway. his shiny new shoes pinching his toes in a way that was starting to become uncomfortable. 

“hey guys?” he said catching wonwoo and jun’s attention. “i think we’re going to head out” he turned slightly, showing the guys how you clung to his back, wrinkling the front of your emerald dress. eyes closed contently with a little smile on your face. “see you later.”

sings: when he gets home. 

“angeeeellllll” his voice carries across the apartment as he flings the door open, expecting you to be right there with a little smile on your face, waiting for him. what he saw instead was nothing. a dark apartment. upon further inspection, he saw a faint light coming from the living room. 

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered to himself, turning on the lamp next to the couch. he was secretly hoping to wake you up so he could spend time with you. it had been a long week away from you in Japan and he missed you. the night was still young, it was practically still dinner time. 

“well, well, well…” he said, hands on hips when you opened your eyes. he smiled when his plan worked. “wake up you lazy bones. it’s time to hang out with me” but when you turned on your puppy dog eyes and reached up for him, who was he to refuse a cuddle on the couch? he guessed you could hang out in the morning. 

[osachiyo]

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — 1.7k+ words, vampire!fyodor x fem!reader, fluff + n/sfw, virginity loss, spitting (not like u think lol), soft!fyodor, cunnilingus, blood, biting, etc • this surprisingly won the poll soooo here u guys go ! also i didn't originally intend for him to be a vampire but like the latest chapter did something to me.. anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni & NOT PROOFREAD

"fedya i —"

"hush, my dear, let me take care of you," fyodor hummed, smooth but warm voice effectively cutting you off. "it's your first time, after all — we can't possibly have this be an unpleasant time for you," he spoke calmly, reaching out a thumb to smooth the crease between your brows, "i've got you, angel."

you nodded, hesitantly — wanting to please fyodor but it seemed like he was dead set on making this special for you. "now," your train of thought got cut off by fyodor's rich voice once again, "do you trust me, myshka?" he murmured the words into your neck — inhaling the sweet scent of your body lotion mixed with your natural smell. "do you even have to ask that, my love?" you chuckled, soft fingers brushing away a stray hair from his face, tucking that piece behind his ear and he smiled, "no, but it doesn't hurt to ask, right sweetheart?" cold lips pressed themselves against your neck — before his tongue darted out to lick at the sensitive skin.

you gasped when he finally bit down on your neck, fangs etching themselves deep into your soft flesh, you could feel your face flush at the way fyodor's hands were trying to grab anywhere he could, until they settled on the small of your back, pressing you as close to him as possible.

"f-fedya.." you pressed against his chest when you started to feel light headed, immediately catching his attention as he pulled away — you could see your blood staining his vampiric teeth and running down his lips in a line. "apologies, my dear — i was simply drunk off of your taste," he licked his lips clean before pressing them against your cheek — merely brushing them against your eager lips for a second before pulling away. damn tease.

"why don't you take this off for me, hm?" long fingers brushed against the straps of your nightgown, his hands itching to just rip the flimsy piece of clothing off — but he had to be patient. he didn't want to rush things with you, after all.

you happily obliged his request, slipping the thin straps off your shoulder, before shimmying out of the dress. now only in your undergarments, you shivered from the night air hitting your sensitive spots. but before you could even complain, fyodor suddenly captured your lips in a heated kiss — your inexperienced ones struggling to keep up with his.

you didn't even notice he had you pinned on the bed until your back hit the mattress, your hair sprawled on the sheets like a halo around you — making you look like an angel in his eyes. "..beautiful," fyodor whispered against your collarbones, leaving small nips and bites there — his cool lips a great contrast to your heated skin.

"f-fedya," you moaned once his hands found your breasts, fondling the soft mounds in his palms before looking up at you with those amethyst eyes. "yes, my dear?" he grinned, brushing his sharp teeth on the side of your tit, restraining himself from biting you.

"touch me more, please," you begged, hips twitching up involuntarily when his fingers found your nipples, pinching the hardened buds between his lithe digits while pressing kisses between the valley of your breasts.

"i'd be a fool not to," he chuckled, happily obliging to your pleads. "let's take this off, yeah?" he put his fingers in the waistband of your panties, admiring the pretty little bow on the skimpy garment. it felt like he was unwrapping a present — your pussy.

he watched as strings of your arousal stuck to the fabric as he pulled it away, revealing your awaiting and untouched cunt to him. "absolutely gorgeous," he breathed out, the air fanning on your folds made your head spin. fyodor eventually took your panties fully off, chucking it somewhere on the bed, but his eyes were on you the entire time — on that perfect cunt.

"may i, darling?" fyodor licked his lips, trying his best to not just shove his head between your thighs — he needed you to say it, to want it as bad as he did.

"please, need you so bad right now —!," you whined, tossing your head back once he licked a flat stripe up your cunt, groaning lowly at the taste. "taste's s'good," he purred, gathering your slick on his tongue before dipping the pink muscle into your hole — almost tongue-fucking you.

"mmh," you tried your best to muffle the sinful noises escaping your lips — biting down on your hand so hard it's almost enough to draw blood, until you felt fyodor's cold hands pry it away — "i want to hear you, my love, don't be shy —" his tongue swirled over your clit deliciously, "sing for me."

and you did — back arching so sweetly while those intoxicating little moans and whines rolled off your tongue, all while fyodor's was moving in and out of you.

" 'm gonna cum — fedya, please," your hand found purchase in his soft ebony locks, tugging on it gently and hearing, feeling him moan into your cunt — sending vibrations throughout your whole body.

"please what?" he finally opened his eyes, mischief written all over his features as he worked his mouth on you. "what do you want me to do, pretty girl?" fyodor hummed, pulling away to spread your folds with his thumbs — before spitting directly onto your hole, watching the tight ring clench and unclench rapidly. how cute, he thought.

you gasped at the lewd show he was putting on, before reluctantly speaking up, "please make — make me c-cum, fedya," the tears gathered on your lashes finally fell, earning a soft coo from the man between your legs.

"is that right, my love?" he mused, reaching down a finger to collect some of your slick before plunging the long digit in — breath catching in his throat once he felt just how tight and warm you were. "cum for me, beautiful," that was the last thing he rasped before diving in — groaning unashamedly into your cunt. that was all you needed, the final push before releasing all over his face and mouth, drenching his chin down to his collar, and he wasn't even mad about it.

"oh oh go— gosh, feels s'good," you clenched your eyes shut at the unbelievable amount of pleasure, it was so good. fyodor continued to lick and gulp down all your juices, muttering praises in between.

once he finally pulled away, he finally took a good look at you and fuck — you looked utterly debauched. tits spilling from the bra he was yet to completely take off, the bite marks littering your skin and your face. especially your face — eyes glazed over and unfocused as little pants left your mouth, drool and tears running down your chin. you looked like a ruined mess — a beautiful ruined mess.

fyodor didn't waste any time before beginning to undress himself, he needed to fuck you — now. he could feel how unbelievably hard he was, it almost hurt how turned on he was, not that he'd ever admit how crazy you make him.

"you're ready," he breathed, before kissing you deeply — hardened cock rubbing against your folds and spreading his precum on them, mixing with your arousal. "so ready," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up, pinning you against the headboard this time.

"do tell if this hurts too much," he groaned, biting his chapped lips as he slowly pushed the tip in — feeling you contract around him nearly drove him insane. you gasped and writhed in pain as he entered you — but it felt so good at the same time, to be so impossibly close to the man you love — you didn't mind the pain too much, instead focusing on the blooming warmth in your chest.

that warmth intensified once you glanced at his face — usual pale skin now flushed, brows furrowed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. he looked almost angelic — as if he wasn't a creature of sin.

fyodor's eyes opened and he caught you staring at him in awe, his lips twitching up to show a genuine smile — filled with love and warmth for you. only for you.

"you feel so good, moya lyubov," he almost moaned out — hips thrusting so sensually it almost had you rolling your eyes back.

"a-ah fyodor —!" you mewled so cutely when he brushed his fangs against your neck — so sharp they almost drew blood. "can i? please, milyy," he pleaded — and who were you to say no to him?

you didn't answer him with words, only craning your neck to give him more access — and he got the memo. sharp fangs sunk into your neck, making you tightening your grip on fyodor — his hips quickening their pace, now becoming desperate, and hungry for release.

the taste of your blood filled fyodor's senses — you tasted so good, so sweet he had to hold himself back from cumming immediately — he had to make his girl cum first, right?

your eyes shot open once you felt cold fingertips rubbing your clit in hurried circles, walls clenching even more on the vampire's length which had him muttering small curses in russian. you could feel yourself getting light-headed from the loss of blood — but it wasn't fatal, he'd never hurt you like that. "close, milaya?" he grunted, now licking up the blood dripping from the punctures on your neck — his eyes rolling back slight from the metallic taste.

"yes — yesyesyes —!" you squealed, gushing all over his cock, soaking the bedsheets in the process. fyodor couldn't last much longer either, your taste along with the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him had him cumming seconds after you — both of you moaning in unison as he filled you to the brim.

you yelped when fyodor slumped against you — for a vampire, he didn't have the stamina of one. "tired?" you breathed out, brushing some stray hair from his pretty face. fyodor only hummed in response, eyes opening to take in the sight of you underneath him — pants leaving the both of you. your hair was messy, dried blood and tears staining your skin. "so beautiful," he hummed, pressing his lips against your temple. "you did so well, my love," he praised, chuckling at the way you suddenly became so shy.

"get some rest, my dear — i'll have ivan make you something rich in iron. i may have took... a tad too much blood," he sighed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. you could only nod absentmindedly, eyes fluttering closed as the tiredness finally got to you.

an "i love you, sleep well, beautiful girl," was the last thing you heard before slipping away in dream land.

©osachiyo— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

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[moonlightazriel]

Baby bumps and cookie crumbs /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Azriel comes home from a mission to find his mate bonding with his family.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,2K

Notes: A little Christmas spirit for this blog since my Christmas won’t be that good.

Main Masterlist

Azriel sighed, removing his boots by the door, the house quiet, the only sound being the soft steps as his feet made it to the master bedroom. Whenever he came home from a mission he would find her there, tangled in the blankets, snoring softly and with a serene expression adorning her beautiful face.

But to his surprise, the house was empty, his warrior instincts kicking in. He held the truth teller in between his fingers, searching around the house for her, but she wasn’t anywhere. Her scent was the only lingering in the air, which made him relax a bit.

With solstice preparations she was probably out in town, but he couldn’t help thinking the worst whenever she was out of his sight. As if sensing his distress, he felt three pulls in his chest, and the bond hummed with life. He took a deep breath, going back to the bedroom so he could have a bath.

A knock sounded by the door, and Azriel went to answer, towel hanging on his hips and another one drying his hair. He opened the door, rolling his eyes at Cassian’s whistle.

“If I knew you would be in the shower, I would’ve come earlier.” He mocked, shoving Azriel aside so he could make himself comfortable on his couch.

“Where’s my mate?” He asked, leaving Cassian in the living room so he could get dressed.

“At the River House, everyone’s there.” Cassian's voice was muffled, and when Azriel got back to the living room, fully dressed and fixing the beanie over his hair, Cassian had a whole cupcake in his mouth.

“Hey, those were mine.” He slapped Cassian’s head.

“It’s not my fault your mate cooks like an angel.” Cassian cleaned the frosting around his mouth and aimed for the door. “I was sent to get you, so let’s go.”

“After you.” Azriel motioned for him to go first, locking the door behind him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Indeed everyone was there, the house filled with joy and laughter, the whole place was warm, and he thanked Lucien mentally, cuz the short flight to the River House was cold even for him. The redhead was by the fireplace, shoving wood into the fire.

“Hey man, thanks for that, it’s freezing out there.” Cassian said, squeezing Lucien’s shoulder, to which the male just smiled, nodding his head.

“Azriel!” He greeted, and he greeted back. He wanted to find his mate, his body buzzing with energy to be with her. “Y/N is in the kitchen with the other females.” Lucien winked and Azriel thanked him.

He crossed the house until reaching the kitchen, pushing the double doors open, the space was a mess, Feyre was sitting with a happy smile, sipping in her wine. Nesta was by her side, resting her head on her shoulder, the two sisters watched the scene unfold.

With a thin layer of flower covering her hair, Y/N was giggling, pinching Nyx’s cheeks as the boy screamed in joy. Elain was by her side, trying to mix what looked like cookie dough.

“Now, help aunt Elain with the chocolate chips.” She gave him the package and the boy slowly added them into the mix.

Azriel took a deep breath, the smell of pastries, wine and life growing filled his senses. Y/N turned to him, her face glowing in happiness as she spotted him watching her from the doorway.

She walked to him, and she tried to wrap her hands around his neck to pull him in for a hug, but a 9 months pregnant belly got in the way, preventing her from holding him like she wanted, making her adorably pout.

“I love our baby, but I can’t wait to get rid of this belly.” She smiled and Azriel felt his heart melting.

“Maybe this helps?” He suggested turning her around and hugging her from behind, head resting in the crook of her neck and hands cupping her belly, holding the weight for her. Y/N leaned into him, moaning a bit too loudly.

“Ew, get a room.” Nesta groaned.

“When you’re carrying a baby and your mate holds the weight for you, let’s see if you’re not going to be moaning like a lady from the pleasure hall.” Feyre poked her sister’s side, prompting Nesta to wiggle away from her.

“Uncle Az.” Little Nyx grabbed his legs, making grabby hands towards the male. Azriel scoped him up, kissing the boy’s cheek.

“How are you doing buddy?” The boy looked at him.

“We’re making bat cookies. Aunty Y/N and Aunty Elain are the best at making them.” Y/N giggled.

“Only because we have the best assistant in the world.” Nyx turned to her, lowering his body until he kissed her belly.

“When I’ll get to play with my cousin?” He asked and his mother shimmed in, grabbing him from Azriel’s lap.

“Soon baby, soon. Now let’s get clean for dinner.” She took the baby away.

“You should get cleaned too, you’re covered in flour.” He pulled her as close as possible, brushing the white powder from her head. He lowered until he captured her lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you two.”

She reached for his face, caressing his cheek, tracing the contour of his lips, like she could never get enough of looking at him.

“We missed you too, Azzy.” The shadowsinger led his mate to the dinner room where everyone was gathering. He scooted his chair closer to hers, never wanting to be apart, resting a hand on her belly.

“How is little Cassian doing?” The male asked, turning his attention to her.

“They are just fine, Cassian, we don’t know if it’s a boy or not.” She started.

“And…” Azriel sipped on his wine. “We’re not naming our child after you.”

“What?” Cassian scoffed. “Why not? And I’m sure it’s a boy.”

“No one knows that for sure Cass.” Y/N pointed, and Elain cleared her throat.

“I know.” She simply stated. “I had a vision last week.”

“You know?” Azriel asked in shock.

“Do you guys want me to tell you? I’m totally fine with keeping it a secret if that’s what you wish.” She smiled sweetly at them, Lucien had an arm around her shoulder in reassurance as Elain was still very shy about her powers.

Az looked at Y/N, the two didn’t need to have Daemati powers to communicate silently, they just knew each other that well.

“We do.” The two said in union. Elain felt her cheeks hot as all the eyes were on her now.

“You are going to be having a boy.” She shyly replied, just to be startled by Cassian's loud cheer, smacking the table.

“I told you little Cassian is on the way.” He pointed to the couple, forcing them to laugh along with him.

“Thanks Elain, that means a lot.” Y/N replied, smiling widely to the female.

That night, the family celebrated the new member, drinking wine and eating bat cookies that tasted absolutely delicious. And when Azriel took his mate home later that night, warming himself in her soft embrace. He ran his fingers through her hair.

“Our little boy will be here soon.” She whispered.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” He kissed her, feeling his chest full with love. “Our precious little boy.”

[puck-luck]

wedding crashers | jack hughes

warnings: semi public sex, pining on jack's side, older!reader (jack is 22, she is 26), unprotected p in v (always... do as i do not as i say, wrap it when you tap it), fingering, dirty talk, insinuation of oral (m & f receiving) pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader request: "jack hughes and a slightly older reader (like idk 3 years older maybe), i feel like he’s so sassy and cocky that he would go nuts if he was able to get an older girl hahaha, maybe it could be like a challenge type situation where they were bantering over whether he’d be any good in bed bc he’s “just a baby” or something so he has something to prove.. 🫣" wc: 4167

You’d first met Jack Hughes in 2015. You were at one of the USA Developmental games with Matthew, your best friend at the time, watching his brother play for the last time that year. Since it was Christmas just recently, this was the only time you’d get to see Matthew until who knew when. Even though it involved hockey, which always stole Matthew’s attention from you, you decided to join him anyway. It was Matthew that introduced you to the Hughes family, after you had commented on Quinn’s performance.

Jack was a goof from the get-go. He was fourteen when you met, so all of his attempts to flirt with you went nowhere. Well, they made it to the front seat of Matthew’s car, where you laughed about the younger boy’s boldness. He was a sweet boy, and cute in a way that made you want to pinch his cheeks, and you were able to watch him grow up and come into himself. 

Your friendship with Matthew had dwindled since he was drafted in 2016, but you were still close enough with his family to be invited to Brady’s wedding. It was there that Jack cornered you, hitting on you for the umpteenth time. Now, he was 22 years old, overconfident and cocky due to years of praise from not only his coaches and peers, but from every pretty girl that fell into his company. You were 26, mature and happy with the life you had made for yourself. 

Jack had never stopped chasing you, though it wasn’t an overbearing and constant chase. He was sure that he would conquer you someday, having never forgotten the way he rubbed himself raw after he had first met you and you had smiled in his direction. What can he say– he was fourteen and a pretty girl, an older girl had smiled at him. 

And, pleasantly tipsy, Jack had decided that today was that day.

He tore himself away from Luke, having delivered a new drink to his underage brother, and made his way to you. You were sitting with one of Brady and Matthew’s relatives, making small talk over a glass of white wine. Your legs were crossed in a way that Jack could only describe as dainty, your nails painted a pretty blush color that matched your dress. Jack licked his bottom lip when an image of your hand around his cock, with those painted nails contrasting the color of his member, flashed through his mind.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jack said, not really feeling sorry at all. He turned to you. “I was wondering if you’d join me for a dance.”

You smiled and shook your head slightly, a small laugh falling from your lips. “Sure, Jack.” To the Tkachuk relative, you excused yourself, standing to take Jack’s extended hand. You took a sip from your wine glass, polishing off the drink. 

Jack truly couldn’t have chosen a better moment to ask you to dance, as a new song began and decided for you, due to its pace, that the two of you would engage in a waltz of sorts. Jack wasn’t much of a dancer, but he was able to box step in time with the music and lead you through the dance. 

You had given Jack a knowing look when his hand found its way to the small of your back, threatening to dip dangerously onto the curve of your ass. Your hand rested on his shoulder, the other in his hand, held close to your bodies. 

Jack pulled you close to him, mere inches between your bodies. You laughed again, your head dipping to fall on his shoulder for a split second. 

“What?” Jack asked as you flicked your hair from your eyes with a slight tilt of your head. “You’re supposed to be close when you dance.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever you say, Jack.” Your voice was light, almost sing-songy. “Your intentions are nothing if not innocent, isn’t that right?”

“I just want to dance,” Jack deflected, but the smile on his face told you everything you needed to know. His eyes were shining, both from the drinks he had consumed and the charged energy between your bodies.

You raised your eyebrows and pursed your lips, trying to suppress a smile as you and Jack continued to stare at each other. You broke first, looking away and shaking your head.

“What?” Jack said. “You don’t believe me?”

“No, I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, I’m hurt by that.” Jack pouted, his bottom lip jutting out in a way that caught your attention. It was plush and pink and just a little cracked from sun exposure. You knew Jack had spent the beginning of the summer out on the lake, and his skin reflected that– both tan and sunkissed at once. 

Though you hated to admit it, Jack had grown up to be very attractive. He glowed, especially in the summer, especially when he had a few drinks in his system and he had grown a little more brash and a little more bold.

“Poor Jacky,” You teased. You tilted your head down and blinked up at him through your lashes, saying in a baby-voice: “I hurt the little baby’s feelings?”

“You did,” Jack agreed, his pout just becoming more exaggerated. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

Your whole body moved with your laugh this time. “I suppose you’re about to ask me to kiss it better.”

“Well, I was hoping for more than just a kiss,” Jack said, chuckling at your laughter. He licked his bottom lip before biting it in a cheeky smile, the apples of his cheeks prominent and pink. His teeth were a sharp white contrast to the red dusting across his cheeks, but you found yourself growing fond of that shameless smile the more you saw it.

“Jack, you’re a baby,” You laughed. “In the real world, you’d have just graduated college. I know things are different because you’re a big, famous hockey player and you’ve been doing this job for years, but the fact of the matter is that you’re just too young for me.”

Jack was unscathed by your rejection, just like he always was. He didn’t even mind that your tone was borderline condescending, like you were talking to a five year old instead of a grown adult. 

“Plus, Jacky–” You smiled, itching to hammer the final nail in this coffin. “You can’t handle a grown woman.”

His eyes grew dark at that. “I can handle a grown woman,” He stated, voice definite.

You threw your head back, not quite laughing, but not quite rolling your eyes in exasperation either.

Jack’s hand left yours and found your jaw in a flash, bringing your face back to his. “I can handle a grown woman,” He repeated. His gaze flickered down to your lips. “Let me prove it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes flickering down to his lips to match his motions. “In your dreams,” You denied, bringing your hand to his chest to put some distance between you.

Jack didn’t allow it. If anything, he pulled you closer. He pressed his hips into yours, took your hand off his chest and resumed its original dancing position. He tugged you tight to him, tight enough that you were looking over his shoulder and his mouth hovered right next to your ear.

“I’d be so good to you,” Jack whispered. Your eyes flickered around the room, but no one seemed perturbed by yours and Jack’s positioning. “I’ve had a long time to think about this, Y/N. Let me tell you what I’d do, what I have done in my dreams.”

You didn’t say anything, but the fingertips of the hand on his shoulder found the hair at the nape of Jack’s neck and stayed there.

“I always start by kissing you. Always. I’d start slow– just feeling how these pretty pink lips feel against mine. I’d wait for you to loosen up, to open your mouth and invite me in for more. I’m going to keep going slow, but I’m going to slide my tongue into your mouth and kiss you until I’ve figured out just what you taste like. Today, you’ll taste like your white wine at first, but I’m going to kiss you until I’ve deciphered your taste, Y/N.”

Jack moved his hand to your waist and squeezed gently.

“I’d start with my hands here, but I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I’ll start moving, feeling every inch of you. There’s not a part of your body where my fingerprints won’t be found. You won’t know what to focus on– when one of my hands is tangled up in your hair, the other one is going to squeeze your ass and really feel it out because I’ve been thinking about it for so long. And all the while, darling, I’ll be kissing you and stealing the breath from your lungs.”

You gasped at that, shifting closer to Jack. He smiled, knowing that he was closing in on the moment that he’d been wanting for the past eight years. His hand moved to the curve of your ass and you’re nearly helpless with it, or just unwilling to chide him for venturing that far. Jack made eye contact with Quinn over your shoulder and smirked, showing his teeth in a cheshire way.

He spoke again. “But then I’d bring my fingers down, won’t I? I’ve made you breathless, I’ve made you moan, I’ve got you begging for more– something you thought you’d never do. Yet here we are, and you’re always dripping for me.” 

By the end of his sentence, Jack’s voice was barely audible. You were straining to hear him, and his mouth was right next to your ear. You felt a bit breathless already, strung together by terrible stitching. Your resolve snapped when you felt his lips close around your earlobe, his teeth tugging at your skin gently.

You jumped away from him like you’d been electrocuted by his touch. You’re breathing heavily, chest heaving. 

Jack fared no better, standing in the same spot. You watch his chest rise and fall, the little bit of his skin you can see between his unbuttoned white shirt glistening. His mouth was slightly open, ready to whisper something else dirty in your ear. 

You looked him up and down like you couldn’t decide where to focus, like you were fulfilling a prophecy where Jack made you fumble where you once stood so sure.

In a second, you made your decision. You needed to see how this would end, needed to feel it for yourself.

You grabbed Jack’s hand and dragged him out of the reception hall, down the winding hallways until you’ve deemed that you’re far enough away from the party that no one would be able to find you if they came looking.

You shoved Jack into a closet– a closet, you thought to yourself, wanting to laugh at the absurdity. When you closed the door behind you and turned to find Jack’s eyes, he was waiting with a stoney face, not letting any of his emotions show. You’d have killed to know what he was thinking.

All you could do was nod, mouth opening and closing a few times, but never finding words. 

Jack tilted his head, his eyes flashing in the darkness.

“Please,” is the single word that ended up breaking the silence between you. 

Jack’s lips were on yours in the blink of an eye. His hands cradled your face and his kiss was insistent, bruising. He was slow, sure, but he was emphatic, unyielding. The kiss reflected the eight years of waiting that had passed before he got this chance. 

His hand pulled one of your legs up onto his hip before it circled around you to knead the skin of your ass. Your dress, already short because Brady and Emma had planned for a wedding in the dead of summer, rode up until your behind was barely covered. 

All the more for Jack to hold onto as his tongue made its way into your mouth.

You continued to kiss, breaking apart only to take a breath and recover, unbuttoning the rest of Jack’s shirt and pushing it down his arms. Your hands roamed his torso, feeling every muscle that Jack had worked so hard to build. 

Jack’s mouth traveled south, sucking along the skin of your neck. He bent down, both of his hands finding your thighs and lifting you. You wrapped your legs around him and ground down against him, finally getting some relieving friction from the sizable bulge that was pressing against his zipper. Jack moaned out loud, gasping at your movements. 

“What next?” You asked, grinding down again.

“What?” Jack replied, lost in the moment. His eyes met yours and they seemed cloudy, swirling with lust.

“After you, shit, after you touch me–” Your head tipped back as he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. “What do you do next, in your dreams?”

It took a minute to register for Jack, too caught up in the feeling of your pussy against his cock, even if there were multiple layers separating you. 

“I touch you,” Jack said, the obvious next action. “I don’t do anything, I just touch you. I use two fingers and I find every spot that makes you react. Once I’ve got you figured out, I–”

You cut him off. “Do it,” You told him. Your head felt light, almost dizzy, and you nodded like a bobblehead. “Do it.”

Jack let out a pathetic, wanton whimper at your command and walked forward until you were pressed against the wall. He shifted you over to that you were held up by his thigh and he brought one hand down to your panties.

He felt over the skimpy fabric, which was barely doing anything anymore. It was soaked, darkened with your slick, and briefly, Jack thought to take it off of you and pocket it to bring home as a souvenir. How dirty you would feel going back out to the reception… the thought of it nearly made Jack’s knees buckle. It would be a constant reminder that he’d won, that he’d managed to fuck you and satisfy you after thinking about it for so long.

He allowed his fingers to wander up and down the expanse of your pussy, cataloging how you whined when he rubbed over your swollen clit and how you clenched down when he pushed at your entrance through the fabric covering it. He noticed how your stomach tensed as he teased his way across your lips, running his finger over each curve and ridge. 

As if inspired by something divine, Jack pulled your panties taut, making them ride up into your cunt and provide some gratifying friction when you next ground down on his hand. Jack watched, eyes wide, as you chased your own pleasure. His hand was the catalyst and you were moving mindlessly, like he had already plucked every thought from your head and replaced it with desire for him.

“Fuck,” Jack choked out, feeling a spark zip up his spine. “Y/N.”

He said your name with such reverence, and flexed his hand against you like an offering. 

“Fuck me,” You said. Your hands found Jack’s hair and you pressed your lips to his. “Jack. I need you to fuck me. I need you inside me, I can’t– oh, need you to make me come. Baby, I’m so close already, I need you.”

Jack’s cock was throbbing like he might burst from the slightest breeze. There it was again– “Baby.” It didn’t mean the same thing now, Jack knew it was more of a term of endearment than an insult, but it lit a fire under him nonetheless. He was going to prove to you that he wasn’t a baby, that he was a man and in this moment, you were his. He was going to fuck you hard, like you’d never imagined he was able to do. He was going to make your legs shake, make it so you couldn’t walk or do anything but sit prettily at your table and sip on another glass of wine to cool you off.

He was going to make it so that the next time he saw you, you’d be begging him to make you come again.

Jack let your feet find the floor again, stepping back just far enough to get his hands on his belt. “Strip,” Jack commanded. “I want to see you.” At the same time, he unbuckled his belt and worked to remove his dress pants. He kicked them away, in a crumpled little pile near his dress shirt. His underwear joined shortly after.

You hurried to remove your dress, eyes locked in on Jack’s cock. It was a burning red at the tip, wet and straining. It stood away from his body, solid and you swore you might’ve just felt some drool pool at the corner of your mouth. 

His hand fisted his cock, eyes lasered in on your protruding nipples when you dropped your dress to reveal your body. 

Jack sighed, stroking himself slowly to keep himself at bay. “You’re better than I dreamed,” He said, causing you to blush.

“Jack,” You whined, aching for him to come closer, to slide inside you.

“Let me.” Jack stepped forward and got to his knees, gently bringing your panties down and helping you out of them. He dropped a kiss on your clit before standing again.

You brought an arm around his neck, your other hand placed solidly on his chest. You could feel his pulse racing wildly beneath your palm and you suddenly remembered that he’d been waiting to do this for years.

“Come on, Jacky,” You voiced. “Prove yourself.”

It was a weak command, a weak insistence, barely any indicator of sureness in your voice now. Jack had turned you inside-out, made you question everything because you never imagined you’d need him the way you do now. 

He practically growled and you could feel it rumble in his chest. He captured your lips with his, nibbling on your bottom lip before filling your mouth with his tongue. It was slippery and wet and it felt like magic.

Jack pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, feeling the head slide in. He stopped there for a minute, breathing deeply into your mouth to ground himself. He couldn’t disappoint you, wouldn’t dare shoot off early and cut short the night that he’d been fantasizing about since he was a teenager.

“So good,” You breathed out, feeding the words to Jack. He dipped his head and inched further into you, moving slowly until your pelvis connected with his. 

“Fuck,” Jack whimpered out. 

His thrusts started shallow. Jack felt like you were constricting him, squeezing him like a snake in a cartoon. His voice was caught in his throat like an ugly lump and the only noises that could force their way past it were groans and “uh”s that borderline on squeaky. He didn’t care about the noises, he didn’t care that he could be embarrassing himself in front of the girl he’s wanted for so long.

It didn’t matter to you, either– you were too caught up in the feeling of Jack’s cock sheathed inside of you. He was pressing against your most intimate spots and you could feel him throbbing inside of you, dragging delectably along your walls.

His thrusts grew deeper, became longer, harder. Jack’s hair fell into his eyes and you brushed it away. His eyes met yours and the air between you felt thick and charged. You brought your hand to Jack’s jaw and leaned forward, connecting your lips.

This kiss was different. It was soft, intimate. Your tongues slid against each other, licking into each others’ mouths and swallowing each others’ groans and whimpers. You forgot for a few minutes that you were in a closet at the wedding of a man you’d known since you were children, fucking a man that you swore you’d never touch because he’s too young.

That man was quickly proving that he’s one of the best fucks in your whole life. 

Here he was, mouthing against your neck after moving away from your lips. He was making these desperate noises, thrusting into you like he’s taking a chance at something he’ll never have again. At the beginning of this night, you might have agreed that he’d never get another chance. Now, you can’t help but look forward to the next time you see him, when you’ll get your mouth on his thick, skillful cock. 

You told him such, and Jack fucked you harder as a result. His hands clutched at your waist, fingertips destined to leave bruises. 

His cock entering and leaving you caused the closet to fill with wet noises and the sound of the slapping of skin. That, paired with Jack’s pants and whines, pushed you further to the edge. Your climax wound up inside you, tense and heavy in your gut.

“Jack,” You said, voice pleading. “I’m close.”

A moan was ripped from Jack’s chest, sweat beading at his hairline. The look in his eyes was almost animalistic, capturing you in his gaze like you’re the only being that exists in the world.

“Please,” Jack panted out. “Come on my cock.”

The winding coil of your climax unravels as Jack continues to thrust his length into you, drawing himself almost completely out of you and then forcing his cock back into your cunt. Your release leaked down his shaft, coating him completely.

The vice grip of your pussy on his cock made Jack hesitate, made him stutter. He still didn’t want to shoot off, he didn’t want to fill you up with his come, because that meant that this would be over. His dream, journey, his conquest would be complete, and he’d have to find something else to lust after. 

He knew in his heart that he was still just Jack, just a younger hockey guy who you’d known when he was pimply and stick-like, one who could never fit into your life the way he wished he could. 

He’d almost rather torture himself, deny himself from his release, than have this end.

But end it must, and it ended with a breathy whisper of his name.

“Jack,” You mewled, twitching in oversensitivity. 

“Oh,” He groaned as his cock jumped inside you, your walls milking him for everything he has. His eyelashes fluttered as you seemed suddenly re-energized, fucking yourself on his cock as he came inside you. It was like his come brought you to life, something too powerful and symbolic for him, and Jack closed his eyes at the thought.

You came down together, eyes finding each other intermittently in the darkness, only when the other wasn’t looking. Your breaths synched, unknowingly, as you dressed yourselves. You were close enough that your elbows could bump as you pulled your clothes on, but both of you were too conscious of the tension to let it happen.

You finished dressing yourself first and you looked over to Jack, feeling something close to awe as he buttoned his shirt and left some skin exposed. You were drawn to it, wanting to reach out and reveal the curve of his shoulder, the dip of his collarbone, the ridge of his waist again and get your mouth on him, but you couldn’t move.

The tension felt like molasses, thick and heavy. Jack’s eyes met yours and you knew that the emotion in his eyes reflected your own: that you knew everything had changed and you didn’t know if it was for the better or for the worse. 

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head. You made your way into his space, tilting your head up to meet his lips in a sweet, short kiss. You pressed something soft into his hands, then turned and left the closet, leaving Jack alone in the dark. 

He didn’t know how you knew, but you had handed him your ruined panties. He slipped them into the pocket of his pants, mentally noting to find his suit jacket and move the panties to the inside pocket of that garment. 

When he saw you again at the reception, almost a half an hour later, you were sipping a new glass of wine. Jack made eye contact with you over the glass and patted his pocket, the small lump of your panties still visible to those who looked closely, and he grinned to himself when he saw you blush.

He’d text you later that night, having bummed your number off of Brady years ago but never used it until now. It was a simple message, teasing and confident, bold like you had come to expect from Jack:

“lmk when u want to see what i can do w my tongue ;)”

note: this might just be my magnum opus. this is my favorite thing that i've written in ages. i had toooo much fun with this. ...will write a part 2 when jack DOES show her what he can do with his tongue... maybe paired with another recent request i got about jack's current injury and what he is or is not able to do with his shoulder.

P.S. I'm not married to the title of this. It was kind of just something I threw out there. They do not crash a wedding. Although their behavior is certainly dramatic & would disrupt the wedding.

[anchoeritic]

「 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭’𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞. 」

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jake sully x fem!human

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw(18+), minors dni. clit play, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), fingering, squirting, use of “girl”, size kink/difference.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: “i'll touch you as you wish, but only if you can stay quiet for me.”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: two jake fics in a day? i might as well make my comeback now. reblogs and feedback are appreciated but never pressured! feel free to send in requests while you’re at it.

“you’re so pretty, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he would whisper against your lips, hoping to hear the smallest whimper from you.

his hands were always quick enough to make you answer; caressing your breasts through the thin fabric.

his hands could cover your entire body: him compared to you was the biggest difference and he loved that about you.

he knew he would always tower over you and make you say yes. you were his prey.

nipples erected and clearly toyed with, he licks his lips, observing the way your eyes would roll back for him. “jake,” a whine came out from you, earning a devilish smile from him.

“hm, talk to me,” he would reply, starting to trail kisses along your jaw, “tell me what you feel, baby.”

he knew what he was doing when he teased you. he always made you say what you wanted, felt, before he continued to pleasure you. he was a man of control, he needed those sweet words to come out from your mouth before he could devour you.

you bucked your hips on his lap, biting onto your lip softly. “i need you.” toying around with your nipple, he pinched it gently.

“you sure you can take it?” he teased you, brushing away a fallen strand behind your ear to see your eyes clearer.

his tongue traced circles into your cheek, the slight coldness of his teeth pinching your flesh.

you agreed obediently, nodding your head.

he could only reply with a laugh, caressing your jaw softly. "so needy to be touched," he started. "can i make a deal with ya?"

humming, you laid your head against his chest still rocking yourself softly against his thighs.

“i'll touch you as you wish,” his hand slides up from your breasts, wrapping around your neck tightly before you could react. his breaths grew heavy against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

there had to be a catch to it. he'd never give in to you so easily, right?

“but only if you can stay quiet for me.”

there it was.

“you want me to stay quiet?” you whispered.

“that includes no talking, sweetheart,” he smirked, slipping a finger between your wet folds. he watched as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, nearly drawing blood.

struggling to stay silent with one finger inside you, he slipped a second one, pumping them into you with no mercy.

caught by surprise, your immediate reaction was to close your legs, but jake thought otherwise.

with his strength, he used his arm to pull your leg up, holding it up against your chest as his other was playing with you.

struggling to stay quiet, you bit onto your own leg, burying your face against it.

“still wanna be mean, sweetheart? guess who gets to tell you when to cum.” he pinched the inside of your thigh.

“such a needy, needy girl. i wonder what'll happen if i end up making you squirt.”

a third digit is added, stretching you out beyond what you can take, but could never compare to jake.

you shake your head attempting to push his hand away, only to be met with a hiss from him and a quickening in pace.

“i feel you getting tighter,” he added as you clenched around his fingers. "c'mon, make me happy, baby."

shuttering, you spread your legs wider, trembling when you felt the cold air hit in all different places.

“i know you want to cum,” he mumbled into your hair.

your hips could no longer control themselves, trying to ride for the high. your arousal was already dripping down from between your thighs, drenching jake's lap.

“cum for me.”

his words sent you over the edge, body shaking into an orgasm.

a low groan was heard by jake as you brushed against his bulge, turns out you weren’t the one that had to be quiet.

you threw your head back onto his shoulder, breathing heavily. that had been one of the best of your life and you were silent.

bite marks were scattered around your knee: all made by you attempting to keep yourself quiet.

smiling down at you, he placed gentle kisses on the crown of your head.

“so good for me.” he praised.

“sìltsan 'eve.”

[hyunjin-mylove]

First morning of forever

You open your eyes to a brightly lit room. The morning sun coming in through the balcony doors that have been left open.

As your eyes adjust to the morning, you take in the room. The hotel sheets are warm and soft around you. Clothes litter the floor - your cheeks flush at the memories of last night. A water bottle has been left on your bedside table and you sit up to take a sip. The breeze from the open doors spreads goosebumps down your bare arms. It's then that you notice the empty spot next to you in the bed, quickly losing warmth.

You look over to the balcony, spotting your husband of not even 24 full hours. Instantly, you're warmed by the image of his figure standing out on the balcony, taking in the world below. His tan skin glows in the morning sunlight, almost like he's some angel and not a mere mortal. Hyunjin always had that aura about him and you were left completely speechless every time you recognized it. The silky robe he threw on when he got out of bed sways gently as another breeze rolls in. This time, you barely notice, too enraptured by the man you get to call your husband.

The ring on his finger sparkles in the sun, catching your eye. A smile finds its way to your lips as you recall how excited you were to put it on him the day before that your hands couldn't stop shaking until he guided your hands to his. Tears begin to well up as you recite his vows in your head, poetic by nature, and you need to lean back into the pillows to brunt the force of love and emotions hitting you all at once.

As if sensing you've awoken, Hyunjin turns to meet your eyes with his own. A gentle smile graces his face as he carefully takes in his bride. You're sure your hair is a mess and your pajamas were never the cutest, but there was not a hint of judgement in his eyes. The sun hit his eyes in such a way that plain old brown could no longer describe them, but no matter what colour they were, pure love was all you could see in them. It was all you'd ever seen when he looked at you.

Gracefully, almost as if he's floating, his long legs take him to the bed where you lay. He sits next to you and cups your face in his large hands. A kiss is pressed to your forehead and his thumbs swipe away the tears that fell when you closed your eyes in contentment at being held by him.

"Good morning, my love," he mumbles against your hairline. Hyunjin pulls away to look you in your eyes once again. "Happy tears or sad?"

"Happy," comes your wet reply. The grin on your face pulls at your cheeks in a way that you know he's restraining himself from pinching. "So very happy. Just overwhelmed by how much I love you."

You watch as tears begin to well up in his own eyes at your admission before he finds refuge in your hair. Even now that you're finally married, those three words coming from your mouth will always overwhelm him. His arms squeeze you close. The warmth radiating from him is grounding on this gentle, early morning.

Hyunjin's response comes as soft words whispered into your hair.

"You have no idea just the depths of my love for you. I meant what I said yesterday when I said I'm with you until the end. You've taken my heart and soul; I cannot live without you."

You gently push him away so you can see his face. He easily goes but before he can continue his speech, you pull him to your lips. The kiss is wet, both of your tears mixing on each other's cheeks, but it is no less gentle than he promised the day he learned your first kiss would be his to cherish. His hands find their home on your cheek and around your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your grip pulls him even closer to you, where he's practically laying on top of you, but it's exactly where you both want him to be. The plans he made for your first day as a married couple can wait, if it means you can stay in each other's embrace a little longer.

Hi!! Thank you so much for reading! The moment those pictures were released, all I could imagine was what it would be like to wake up to him the first morning of your honeymoon and this is what came about :)

[simplyreveries]

SHCUWUA I saw requests open and I just had a thought SOOO

Lilia, Riddle, Silver, and Malleus (separately) headcanons with a fem!reader s/o (if possible, if not than just GN) that is a sweet heart that enjoys to make them smile? Especially Riddle, Silver and Malleus since those three rarely smile honestly 😭

Thank you! - 🎀

lilia vanrouge

he usually has some sort of grin or smile on his face, it's hard to get him genuinely upset or mad. lilia appreciates and thinks it's cute, really, at all the efforts and attempts at trying to make him smile. he’ll give you a laugh and pinch your cheek telling you how sweet that is. really, whenever lilia is around you he simply can't not smile, he loves being just near you– it fills his heart with so much joy. 

really does cherish anything you give to him that reminded you of him or thought that he would like, he just turns back any gesture you do for him right back at you but only tenfold. he's looking to make you happy before anything. even if it might be a little strange in some circumstances... where he's tried giving you, his baking.

you two are always matching each other's energy trying to make the other smile and he absolutely adores that about you. any time you two are together, you are always such a loving mess. he teases you about it, like he isn't constantly laughing and smile around you as well.

riddle rosehearts

riddle can't help but feel happy just by being close to you, he has a small gentle smile that plays on his face most of the time even if he's just watching you talk and interact with others around you. his eyes just drift over towards you and can't help but feel overwhelmed with how giddy inside he feels at times. it's his first time feeling and being in love, and he loves it haha.

sometimes he tries not to show his smile, when he's trying to be serious or when preforming duties and doing things as dorm leader or even beginning to feel frustrated at certain rulebreakers but when you go about actively trying to make him smile, it's hard not to give in.

he ends up getting himself flustered or stumbling slightly for words whenever you give him any kind of affection. if he's looking the slightest bit upset you find your hand in his and kiss it sweetly with a smile and he simply melts. it never fails to give him a flushed smile.

silver

he can't help that he has a serious mode on like 90% of the time. he always finds himself cracking a gentle smile at your antics to make him do so. though, it's usually whenever you're not looking, and he catches himself drifting his eyes over and staring at you. those are moments where he is found the happiest.

if you ever point it out and compliment his smile, he'll become slightly flushed and muster out a small thanks. he isn't used to this at all but he only wants to feel it more from you. silver slightly covers his mouth and face and tries to remain composed, but he feels so warm and nervous inside.

in his sleepy moments and he's resting beside you or even on you lap (your suggestion he couldn't say no to) he'd blissfully smile when he feels your hands go through his hair and touch his face. it sends chills through him- he can't get enough of it.

malleus draconia

you'll usually see some sort of smile or amused grin on malleus' face. like silver, he has a continuous habit of watching you and seems to be smiling to himself. he finds it so endearingly sweet to see you always try your best to make him smile.

i think what makes him the happiest is whenever you try to be affectionate with him. even if it's simply grabbing his hand and holding it, to which he'll bring your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss with a smile.

he seems more excitable and happier when you just generally do things like talk and take interest in his interests. ask him about gargoyles and even come along with him during his club activities hes the only one so...). malleus enjoys sharing you what he's so utterly fascinated with.

[penny00dreadful]

STWG Prompt: Chill/Give In

Double prompt day! A happy whoopsident!

“Just talk to him. Be chill about it.”

“‘Be chill about it?’ Seriously, Robin?” Steve bit at the skin on the side of his thumb but pulled his hand away when all he could taste was kerosene.

He looked out across the field towards Dustin and Eddie, chasing after each other, playing at battle with their shields.

He could feel his heartbeat in his sides through the bites and on his back and arms where he was dragged over the lake bed but that pain didn’t compare to the near constant fucking heartache he felt every time he looked in Eddie’s direction.

“Steve-”

“Didn’t you just give me a whole speech about how our love lives don’t matter right now because the world might be ending?” He cut her off, a little petulant.

“No,” Robin said firmly. “I said my love life. Because there’s nothing there, there’s no hope. But you-”

“You don’t know that, Vickie could-”

“Steve.” Robin said, almost as if she was begging him. “Please. Go talk to him.”

He had to admit defeat at that, nodding to her and trying not to feel too much about her small sigh of relief as he stood and started to make his way across the field.

Eddie and Dustin were posturing to each other, acting out their victorious return, knights coming back from battle successful.

They both had matching smiles on their faces, those dimples cutting into Eddie’s cheeks and his eyes bright and alight with laughter.

When Steve came to a stop in front of them, arms folded over his chest and they both turned to him, Eddie’s bright eyes turned hard and his mouth fell into a frown while Dustin just looked up at Steve expectantly, still smiling.

“Can I talk to you?” Steve asked, sparing a glance at Eddie’s face and nearly withering under the glare he was sent.

“Can’t imagine we’d have anything to talk about, Harrington.” Eddie turned his back and crouched down, picking back up the hammer and starting to whack nails through the shield again, with far too much force.

“Eddie.” Steve tightened his arms around himself. “Please?”

There was silence between the three of them for a breath, Dustin’s eyes darting from one to the other before Eddie slammed his hammer back down and straightened up.

“Have it your way, then. You always do.” Without a backwards glance, he stormed off towards the tree line, leaving Steve behind feeling like he’d been punched in the gut.

“What’s going on?” Dustin asked, watching Eddie’s retreating form. “He looks like he might try to kill you.”

“If he does, I’d probably deserve it.” He patted Dustin on the shoulder as he passed, following Eddie into the forest.

Steve found him, still scowling, leaned up against a tree a few feet in, trying to blow up Steve’s head with his mind.

Steve could only stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out how to start, not daring to close the distance in between them.

“Talk.” Eddie snapped.

He opened and closed his mouth, eventually figuring it was best to start with his apology.

“I’m sorry.”

He was met with an eye roll and a scoff.

“Oh, now you’re sorry?”

“Yes.” He answered back, firm and resolute. “I’m sorry. I’ve always been sorry.”

“Right.” Eddie nodded, condescending. “And what part are you sorry for, exactly? Or are you just sorry it even happened in the first place?”

Steve huffed to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying his best to keep his emotions from cresting. He’d been so raw for weeks and it was so much worse now, having to face it head on.

“I never wanted to hurt you-”

“Hurt me? Hurt me?” Eddie exploded, out of nowhere. “You didn’t fucking hurt me, Harrington. You eviscerated me. You tore my fucking heart out, and what’s worse, is that you knew you were doing it. I could see it on your face! I can see it right now!” He took a few steps forward, jabbing Steve hard in the chest. “You didn’t even give me a god damned reason and now, because the world is about to fucking end you decide you need to get me off your conscience?”

“No! That’s not what this is-”

“Then what is it!”

“It’s this whole fucking situation!” Steve threw his hands out to the side. “It’s this fucking apocalypse and people fucking dying and getting hurt and I couldn’t have it be you! Not you. Never you.”

“Never me, never me. Story of my fucking life. What could never be me, huh?” He snapped. “Could never be permanent? Could never be what you need? Can’t be your fucking breeder for your all American dream, is that it? No? Then make some fucking sense, would you?”

“It’s not that, jesus, did you listen to anything I said the whole fucking time we were- It wasn’t about my white picket fence fucking dream that I would still be happy to have with you-!” He shook his head, he was getting off track. “I always knew this supernatural shit wasn’t over, Eddie. They said it was done. Hopper died, the Byers moved themselves and El away, they said it was done. But never fucking is. And I couldn’t stand the idea of you being hurt by it.”

Eddie paused, his big brown eyes darting between Steve’s own, searching, gears in his head clicking, until Steve could see the moment the puzzle pieces slotted into place.

“This is why you went missing for a couple of days? This is why you turned up at the trailer looking like you’d been fucking tortured after the mall burned down?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, the fight leaving him. “And I knew it was going to happen again. I’d already gotten Robin and Erica mixed up in the shit, I couldn’t have it happen to you too.”

Eddie was no longer glaring at him but he didn’t look happy either. 

He looked disappointed. 

Disappointed and hurt.

“So, what?” He asked, taking a step back and crossing his arms. “Instead of talking to me about it, you just decided to break up with me?”

“Eddie,” He reached out to him but Eddie took a step back. Steve felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart all over again. “I didn’t ‘just decide’ anything-”

“But you did! You did! You decided for me. You made the decision for me. You didn’t even give me the option- You didn’t tell me what was going on-”

“I couldn’t! There were NDA’s and government agents-”

“Oh fuck off, Steve.” Eddie snapped. “Like you ever gave a shit about what some suits said to you.”

“This is different, this is getting black bagged and never seen again type of shit-”

“Look me in the eye. You look me in the eye and tell me you’ve never broken one of those NDA’s or told one of those agents to shove it up their ass. Go on.” Eddie stepped closer again but it definitely wasn’t an invitation to reach out, it was a challenge. 

Steve looked Eddie in the eye. 

He could lie. 

He could say he always followed those NDA’s to the letter. 

He could say he had never bitched out those agents along with Joyce to declare Hopper a hero and not brush him under the rug like they tried to do with Barb, making him some crooked, power hungry, drugged up cop who ‘went missing’ after he was last seen standing at the quarry’s edge. 

But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t lie to Eddie, not anymore.

Eddie wilted. His eyes went from hard and defiant down to soft, sad and resigned.

“I thought so.” He said, quiet and vindicated, though he sounded the opposite of happy to be so. “You made decisions for me Steve. You took my agency away. No one gets to do that. Not my father, not Wayne and not you.”

“Eddie.” He said, his voice cracking. “I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“Well look around you, sweetheart.” He replied, opening his arms and gesturing around. “What a great job you did.”

Eddie shoulder-checked Steve hard as he passed, making his way out of the forest without looking back.

When Steve finally reappeared at Robin’s side, his eyes red and puffy and his throat raw, she silently took his hand and tugged him in close.

“Nancy.” Steve snapped, grabbing Dustin by the shoulders and wrenching him away. “Get him out of here.”

He threw Dustin into her arms, not letting himself care about the pain he’d probably just caused, he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose focus, there was too much blood and he had to do something. 

“Robin, with me.” But he needn’t have even said it. Robin was already kneeling down by Eddie’s side, checking his breathing, looking for a pulse while Steve started to rifle through the pockets and pouches on his War Zone vest, pulling out bandages and gauze.

They wouldn’t do much, but hopefully it would be enough until they could get him somewhere safer. 

Safer and cleaner.

It had to be enough for that.

It had to be.

Steve couldn’t lose him. 

He handed some of the bandages off to Robin who had moved down to work on his stomach while Steve wrapped up his neck.

“Baby?” Steve couldn’t help but put a hand on Eddie’s cheek. 

His uninjured cheek, because jesus christ the bats practically bit the whole way through on the other side.

“Eddie, can you hear me? Please, baby?” He begged. “Come back to me.”

His heart was in his throat and he was in the middle of trying to shove it the fuck back down because he needed to concentrate when Eddie’s eyes fluttered.

“S’vie?”

“Yeah.” Steve exhaled in relief. “Yeah, it’s me baby. I’m here, you’re gonna be okay.”

Eddie didn’t say anything else, just groaned in pain when Robin cruelly tightened the bandages, but it had to be done.

His eyes fluttered closed again and he didn’t move, save for the small rise and fall of his chest that Steve watched like a fucking hawk.

When he positioned himself in between Eddie’s legs with his back to him, gesturing for Robin to lift Eddie up so he could drag his arms over his shoulders, she paused for a second, giving him a look.

“Your injuries-”

“Birdie, please.”

“Okay, okay. Shit.”

She grabbed Eddie tight under the arms and though she struggled with his dead weight, eventually the two of them were able to manoeuvre him in such a way so he was draped over Steve’s back.

He would have expected a whimper of pain or a shout or something but Eddie was deathly silent, his breaths coming in short sharp rattles.

“Go ahead,” He said to Robin, starting the long and painful trek back to the trailer. “Get the portal ready for me.”

She didn’t hesitate, just nodded and ran.

Steve tightened his arms and grit his teeth.

One foot in front of the other.

“Don't do this to me, baby.” He panted. “Don't go.”

Each step was like a fresh knife through his sides, the raw wounds on his back screamed at him and his vision was starting to swim but he refused, he refused to give in.

There was a small moan in his ear and he could feel Eddie’s eyelashes brushing against his neck as he blinked his eyes open.

“What day s'it?” He slurred, breath hot against Steve’s skin.

“It's-” Steve inhaled, feeling like he couldn’t get a proper lungful, “Thursday.”

“T'm'rrow's date night.” His voice was so quiet, so thin that Steve could barely hear it. He wanted to tell him to stop talking, to conserve his energy but at the same time, talking meant alive.

“Yeah.” Steve huffed. “Yeah, it is, so just-” He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees but managing to catch himself, “Just hang on a little-”

“Dn't know if… if 'm gonna make it.”

“Don't-” he breathed, each pass of air through his lungs getting more and more painful. He was just at the trailer steps now and he could see a figure coming back through the portal from behind the door.

“M'sorry.”

“Eds, don't apologise.” He tried to soothe, everything within him screaming as he lifted a leg to go up the steps. He’d never make it. He’d never be able to carry him up, but he had to try. “Just stay awake, please baby. Please.”

Eddie didn’t respond, but there were still those small puffs of air against Steve’s neck.

The trailer door burst open, Robin and Nancy rushing down the steps to take Eddie’s weight. 

For one delirious moment he held on tighter, he didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want him out of his sight, but he came to his senses quickly, letting the girls drag him up the stairs.

Robin looked back at him torn but Steve waved her off.

“Get him through, Birdie!” He said from his position, holding himself up on the bannister.

Robin glared at him. “God fucking damn it, Steve!” 

But she turned and started to drag Eddie inside because she was his fucking soulmate, god damn it and best fucking friend.

The ascent up and into the trailer was slow. 

By the time he made it to the makeshift stairs they had created up to the portal, the girls and Eddie were already through and Robin was on her way back to him. 

“Evie, come on!” Robin begged, tears in her eyes, reaching a hand out to him.

His vision was starting to darken around the edges, but he was able to grasp at her fingers.

With one last push, he felt gravity shift around him and then everything went black.

“-ere are you going?! We need… hospital!”

“My mom… nurse training until-”

“-some fucking suburban housewife-”

“-don’t know shit-!”

“-innocent-”

“Don’t let your father-”

When Steve blinked his eyes open, he was in the last place he expected to be, back in the Wheelers basement, lying on a bundle of blankets on the ground, Robin curled up next to him asleep and Karen Wheeler’s pink pumps disappearing up the stairs.

He was right next to the couch and looking up, he saw an arm hanging over the side, a familiar spattering of bats inked down his forearm and a messy shock of brown curls just barely visible.

He could already feel consciousness leaving him again, but with the last of his strength he lifted his own arm up, grasping Eddie’s hand in his and squeezing.

All of the tension, apprehension, fear, heartbreak and grief left his body when he felt Eddie squeeze back.

So this fic (because it turned into a fucking oneshot) is actually a bit of background I had imagined for an upcoming future fic that I had never planned to write, but was in my head for later context for the story. Eventually, once that fic has been uploaded (it will be, it's one of my 1st Year Anniversary Event fics), I will upload this lil oneshot to AO3 seperately.

[mncxbe]

Omg, How do you think Dazai, Ranpo, and Jouno (if you want you can add some people) react if their S/o is still stuck in the "Crush phase", like subconsciously smiling at them, sometimes forgetting to breathe (is that just me ?), hiding their face, you get the gist :]

Omg this is so sweet I cannot- I made it kinda sappy hihi let's get right into it♡♡♡ also sorry it took so long to post. school is killing me💀

°☆●

Me, blushing? Nah...

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐, 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

cocky bastard (affectionately)

teases you so much about it omg but does find it adorable

"Aww my bella's still flustered around me? Glad I didn't lose my charm"

no bcs if you catch him off guard; like if he sees you look at him with those big doe eyes he will defo get flashbacks of the times you first started going out on dates

he smiles so gently and he's so happy

like don't underestimate the love this man will have for you fr

You were currently sitting at a square table, tucked in the corner of your favourite coffee shop, with your loving boyfriend facing you. He's been listening to you talk about your insufferable colleagues at work for about half an hour.

You knew you were starting to get the facts mixed up in a jumble of incoherent sentences but you couldn't help it; not when Dazai was looking at you with those beautiful, chocolate brown eyes and that smile you loved so much.

And oh, how blissfully aware he was of the effect he had on you. It warmed his heart to see you act so nervous around him, because of him, after all this time...

He never thought the two of you would last. Maybe a couple of weeks or months, yea. But three whole years? And the relationship was still going well? He was the luckiest man of Earth.

"Aww is my pretty girl blushing again?" he cooed as he leaned over the table and pinched your cheek lightly.

"What? No, I'm not..." you whined in protest as you covered your face with one of your hands.

"It's ok bella. I know you'll never resist my charms. Now please go on talking. I love the gossip" he mocked again, but you caught the hint of softness in his voice.

Taking a deep breath in, you resumed your talk, hand subconsciously reaching out across the table for his.

Dazai intertwined his fingers with yours, meeting them mid-way. He listened carefully, sliding his thumb over yours like he did a countless times before- like he'll do until the end of time because he loves you- and he smiled, nodding at your words.

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐

cocky bastard part 2

much like Dazai he loves your reactions; it's a gentle reminder that you still love him the same way you did when you became a couple

also teases you a bit but let's be honest, he's probably stuck in the crush phase too

y'all are so giddy all the time really

Lost in deep thought, Ranpo swirled his tongue around a cherry flavoured lollipop; fingers mindlessly tapping against the cushioned couch in a slow rhythm.

"You see. Those people must've been hiding in the warehouses closest to the city. They needed a fast escape route so picking the ones on the shore would've made no sense."

For the past ten minutes Ranpo's been explaining to you how he captured a group of gun dealers, deducing the location of their hideout from a mere stain he found on one of the men's shoes.

As per usual, you listened patiently to all he had to say. Your boyfriend's stories never ceased to fascinate you; he was simply amazing. As you watched him nonchalantly explaining every step of his deduction, his signature grin stretched on his lips; a rosy tint rose to your cheeks.

"And anyway, that's how we narrowed down the possible options for the warehouses. Since the ones on the eastern side were patrolled more often, only the ones in the western side remained as- Hey, you still listening to me?"

His question snapped you out of your trance and you nodded eagerly.

"Yes babe. Sorry. I was just distracted for a moment"

Ranpo didn't fail to notice the way you averted his gaze from his and how your blush grew deeper when he leaned in, placing a finger under your chin to make you face him again.

"Then look at me when I'm talking, sugar. You know I can't stand it when I don't have all your attention."

"Sure Ranpo, sure. Now go on please" you urged him and he couldn't help but smile.

Your boyfriend indulged you, continuing his story from where he was left but his attention now shifted to you. He was speaking mechanically, focusing on your awed expression and trying his best to conceal his pride and joy. Even after all these years of being a couple, you were still so excited and giddy whenever he told you about a case at work.

He remembered your first date, when he accidently rambled on about some murder that happened in your neighbourhood and you stood these smiling, just like you did now, listening to him talk. That's the day he knew you were the one.

When he finally finished talking you clapped your hands, merrily swaying from side to side.

"That was great love. I'm sure I would've never figured it out. You're amazing"

Ranpo chuckled and placed a quick kiss on your lips, causing you to flush again.

"And you're adorable when you blush like that" he said gently, booping your nose.

𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐

he's so painfully aware of all your reactions

when your breath hitches when you watch him cook dinner for you? he catches that; when your heart beats slightly faster when the two of you cuddle? he doesn't miss that either

doesn't always want to admit it but he loves it

also doesn't tease you too often about it; he simply doesn't point it out because he knows he still reacts the same to you

congrats, you made his heart melt

Your boyfriend was minding his own business, typing away some reports at the kitchen table when you placed a cup of steaming coffee next to him.

"Here you go sir. A double shot espresso with no milk and no soy sauce." you said playfully, causing Jouno's lips to curl into a smile.

"You're hilarious, you know that?" he mocked as he rose the cup to his lips and took a sip.

And then he heard it: the faint thumping of your heart and your sharp exhale.

"Something wrong, love?" he asked cautiously, placing the cup back on its ceramic plate.

"No just..." you began, blushing furiously "You're really handsome when you work. I mean, you look so focused and all."

Your words came out a mindless babble, causing your boyfriend to smirk.

"Who knew you'd still be so giddy after all this time. You watch me work almost every day"

"Well, you're still as handsome as always so..."

He reached out a hand, motioning you to come closer to him and you closed the distance between you. Jouno swiftly pulled you onto his lap, relishing the way your heart skipped a beat when his arm wrapped around your waist. You were brimming with joy, like a kid in a candy store.

And little did you know that so did Jouno. He didn't want to admit it but he still got flustered when he took notice of the effect he had on you. It was a sweet, gentle reminder that, although your love had matured and changed during the two years you've been together, deep down you still adored him the same way you did at first.

Resting his chin on your shoulder, Jouno went back to typing his report.

"Just stay with me for a while, will you? Tell me if I make any mistakes while writing" he asked in a hushed voice and you nodded in response, adjusting your position on his lap.

'Perfect...' he thought to himself as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. 'This was perfect'

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Hey Keith.”

Keith, who is not a twelve year old child, easily ignores Lance’s dramatic flop forward, arms hooked over the back of the couch. He glances out of the corner of his eye and finds Lance already looking at him. He grins when he notices Keith looking. Keith rolls his eyes, not even bothering to try and tamp down his own smile.

“Keith,” Lance says again.

“Mm,” Keith responds.

Lance doesn’t say anything for a moment. Keith can hear his legs kicking. He’s so fucking — he’s so fucking. Ugh. Keith is going to — bite him, or something.

Lance hums, dark eyes tracing over the other people in the room. There’s something Keith can’t name in his expression, something sharp in those deep browns that Keith recognises; the look he gets when he lines up a perfect shot, when he stands grinning in the middle of the training room pointing his broadsword at Keith in challenge, when he leans in close, breaths heavy and teeth clamped lightly on the lobe of his ear. There’s amusement, there; mischief.

“Keith,” Lance says again, face schooled into something prim and serious — but his eyes don’t change. Keith hides a smile. “You need a boyfriend.”

Across the room, Shiro chokes. Pidge’s tablet clatters to the floor. Hunk’s jaw drops. Allura’s hand claps over her mouth. Coran, a notable outlier, watches them with a knowing smile.

Keith, suddenly, gets the game.

Like any of their planned missions, Keith plays along. He schools his face into something casual and unbothered, looking to the side with a shrug.

“Well, there’s this one guy I’m into.”

Some kind of deranged groaning noise eeks its way out of Shiro’s throat. Hunk appears to be praying for Lance’s soul. Keith is, suddenly, more amused than he’s ever been in his life.

“Oh?”

The corner of Lance’s mouth twitches. Keith’s hand matches it, struck with the urge to press his thumb to his cupid’s bow.

“Mhm. He’s cute, but…very dumb.”

A strangled garb of a sentence comes from Pidge. She reaches out like she wants to pinch Lance’s mouth with secondhand mortification. The twitching of Lance’s mouth gets faster.

“No way!” he exclaims, comically surprised look on his face. “What’s his name?”

Coran snorts. Keith looks over at him, unable to hold back his smirk any longer.

“…Lance.”

Lance gasps. So does the rest of the room.

“He’s got the same name as me?” He presses his hand to his chest, a ridiculous caricature, now, mouth dropped exaggeratedly wide. “Nice!”

“For fuck’s sake!” Hunk curses. Shiro wheezes and falls to the floor. He twitches a little. Something must be going around. Coran laughs out loud.

Keith grins, wide and ridiculous and showing his teeth. Lance meets his smile, equally as unrestrained, and this isn’t how they talked about doing this but it’s a thousand times more fun and a million times funnier.

Keith looks away, making eye contact with Allura and winking. She looks at him like he has four heads.

“Yeah,” Keith agrees. “He’s real cute. Curly hair, big brown eyes. One of those pretty boys.”

Lance scoffs. “Bet he’s ditzy, then.”

“Oh, a little. I love him, though. He makes me laugh.”

Lance does some dorky little half flip move, rolling over the back of the couch and landing with his head sprawled on Keith’s lap, grinning up at him.

“Does he?”

Keith hums, reaching down to run his fingers over Lance’s cheekbones, tracing the bump of his nose. “Yep.”

“Ugh. He sounds like the worst. You have garbage taste.”

“I dunno. I really, really love him.” He leans in close. His hair flips into Lance’s face, making his nose wrinkle. Keith laughs. “He makes me happy.”

“What the fuck is going on,” Shiro croaks.

Pidge nods frantically. “We’re in a mirror realm, we gotta be, something’s not —”

“You should date me instead,” Lance says. There’s a question in his eyes; a challenge.

They say, are we ready?

And Keith responds by brushing the hair out of his face, cupping his cheeks, and kissing him.

“About time,” Coran says.

Keith smiles, and kisses him harder.

———

based on this post

[hunny-bean]

Too Close For Comfort

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank comforts you after he is forced to kill a man in your shared motel room.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Gun Violence, Dead Body (Not Frank's. Don't Worry), Explicit Sexual Content, Little Pinch of Angst, Long Ass Flashback, Porn With 3.5k Words of Plot

A/N: This is the first fic I've ever written! I've been wanting to write for the JB fandom for a while and I finally decided to go for it. I'm planning to write for a lot more of his characters in the future, but I figured Frank was a good starting point. Hope you like it! I'm open to feedback if you've got it. XOXO.

Read on AO3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

After almost three months of living in an old stolen pickup truck and a series of shitty motels, you had learned to count your blessings. An important one, you quickly came to realize, was good water pressure. You were in the middle of your forth shower in the three days you and your new travel partner had been in this town, and you were trying your best to savor the moment. Since the closest companion of long showers is long trains of thought, you allowed your mind to wander back to how your adventure first began.

You took a step back in the cereal aisle in your local grocery store to examine the top shelf and ran directly into someone trying to pass behind you. Startled, you dropped the basket you were carrying full of frozen veggies and canned soups, and watched them roll in all directions. You whipped around so quickly you almost joined your soup on the floor, but luckily a strong hand shot out to steady you before you could.

"Whoa. Sorry 'bout that," the stranger said. And that was how you met Frank Castle. Surprisingly, your first impression of him had nothing to do with his gentle giant aura or his warm, gravelly voice. Your first impression happened before you even laid eyes on him, and that was how backing up into him was like hitting a brick wall with your car. He didn't stumble or falter. He didn't even flinch.

"No, sorry, that was my fault," you replied, your cheeks flushed from creating a loud noise in a public place. The stranger removed his hand from your arm and glanced down at the floor where your bags of peas laid, slowly thawing.

"You, uh... You want some help with those?"

"Oh, I got it, don't worry."

The man mumbled an "alright" and you watched him start to walk away, expecting him to leave the aisle, but he only took a few steps before his foot brushed a stray can, and he bent down to help anyway.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that," you said when all the groceries had been collected.

"No problem," he muttered. You weren't sure why, but there was something off-putting about him. Later you realized it was the stark contrast between his gruff outer appearance and his quiet way of speaking. He was so intimidating but he seemed so trustworthy. "You have a nice day, ma'am."

Before he could walk away, you found yourself calling out to him, too curious to let him leave without asking any questions.

"Hey, I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you. . . new in town?"

He seemed amused by your attempt to start a conversation, but decided to indulge you anyway. "I'm just passin' through. So you, uh, you really know everyone that lives here?"

Although he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, he kept subtly glancing around like he was about to cross the street or something. When he turned his head, you noticed the remnants of a week-old bruise on his jaw.

"Pretty much, yeah," you responded. "So, life on the road, huh? Sounds pretty exhilarating."

He let out a friendly chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it can be. If exhilarating is what you call lukewarm showers and buying all your food from the gas station."

You smiled back, happy the man seemed to be warming up some. He seemed less on edge, and you weren't sure why, but that made you feel accomplished in some way.

"Well, this isn't a gas station," you remarked, playfully contradicting his earlier statement.

"You're right, it's not," he said. "But I had to make an exception because-" You watched as he pulled a round object from his jacket pocket, holding it up and waving it slightly as if to show it off. "-gas stations don't carry mangoes."

You mock gasped, unable to fight back a smile. "Pocket fruit? I hope you were planning to pay for that. Or are you 'just passing through' because you're on the run from the police?"

You expected him to laugh at this, but instead you saw him staring intently over your shoulder at a man who had just entered the aisle. He seemed to identify the new arrival as some sort of threat. You saw that they were looking directly at each other, and you suddenly felt uneasy. Before you could ask what was wrong, several things began happening at once.

The man at the end of the aisle pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at the two of you. No, not at you, just at the kind stranger, who immediately pushed you behind him as the first shot rang out, followed by a second one. Thankfully, they both missed the two of you, but the second bullet grazed the basket you were still holding which was sticking out from behind the stranger's leg. Instantly, you dropped the basket and began sprinting for the nearest exit with the stranger close behind you.

You ran through a door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY,' which the stranger quickly barricaded with a tall shelf packed with bulk boxes of paper towel rolls. As the shooter banged at the door, the two of you found an exit at the back of the stock room, which you flung open and rushed through into the building's side alley. The stranger pulled you behind the building to where his vehicle was conveniently parked, almost as if he'd been anticipating an emergency escape. Too terrified to argue, you didn't protest when he ordered you to get in the passenger seat and jammed his keys in the ignition. He tore out of the parking lot and onto the main road, carrying you away from your home and the man who had tried to kill you both.

It took you half an hour to work up the courage to ask questions.

"Who was he?" you asked, softly. You're sure he heard you, although he seemed happy to pretend he didn't.

After a few long moments, when he realized you weren't going to stop staring at him until he answered, he begrudgingly responded.

"A bad man."

"Why did he wanna kill you?"

"I, uh, took something from him," the stranger said, studying his rear view mirror to see if you were being followed.

"Are you a bad man?" you asked, tentatively.

At first he just sighed, and for a moment you thought that's all he was going to give you for an answer, but then he spoke.

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're asking."

"Then. . . can you take me home?"

"I can't turn around yet, not 'till I know we're not being followed. Then I might be able to take you back so you can pack a bag or two."

"Pack?! For what?" you exclaimed, dreading the answer. There was another awkward silence while the man planned his answer. "Why do I need to pack? Tell me!"

"That man, the one with the gun? He has a, uh, habit of targeting his enemies' loved ones."

"But we barely know each other, why the hell would he-"

"He doesn't know that."

"Besides," he continued after a while, "I don't really. . . have any loved ones. So he's kinda grasping at straws to find somebody I'd want to protect."

"So, he thinks you would care if I died, and now we're both in danger?" You stared at him in disbelief.

"Pretty much, yeah," he mumbled.

After that, the truck was silent for a long while. The only time you spoke in the next two hours was to give the stranger your address. You watched the trees and road pass by beside you, trying to figure out what you would pack when you finally made it home for possibly the last time. You were lost in thought so long that you were pulled out of your head by the truck's tires bouncing over the dip in your driveway. You didn't even know you had turned around.

"You get ten minutes. We're traveling light, so don't go crazy." You began to hop out of the truck before the stranger's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned around and saw that he was looking at you for the first time since you escaped the grocery store. "For the record," he began, contemplating what to say next, "I would care if he killed you."

You just stared back at him, not knowing how to respond to that.

"I'm gonna keep you safe, alright?" he promised, and you believed him.

You nodded, and went inside to gather your belongings. There was just something about this man that made you want to trust him. You managed to fit everything you needed into a large duffel bag and a back-pack. Looking around you, you realized something. You lived alone and all your friends lived out of state. This town had nothing to offer you except a shitty restaurant job. Most likely, the only person who would even notice you were gone was your boss. You took a deep breath before returning to the truck, putting your life in the hands of someone you just met.

You hopped back in the passenger seat, and the stranger helped you toss your bags in the backseat after checking that they were of a reasonable size. "You ready?" he asked.

"Fuck, no. Lets go."

The two of you took off down the road in a different direction than before, hoping to throw the bad man off your trail. After about an hour on the road, you looked over at the stranger to find him smirking slightly, lost in thought.

"What?" you asked, happy the mood seemed to be lightening despite your situation. He glanced over at you momentarily, and instead of providing a verbal response, he just reached into his pocket and handed you a slightly dented but still perfectly ripe mango. You took it from him with a smile.

"What's your name?" you asked.

He looked at you for a long moment, before seeming to make a decision. "Frank. What yours?"

You were brought back to the present by a torrent of freezing cold water, telling you you had been in there too long. You were thankful that Frank seemed to prefer morning showers. As you stepped out and dried off, you thought about the man chasing you. Eventually, when Frank opened up to you, he revealed that his name was Jordan Carlisle, and that his father was involved in the murder of Frank's family. You also discovered that the thing Frank had taken from him was his father's life. It had been so long since that day at the grocery store, and you wondered if you'd ever see him again. Maybe by this point, he'd given up on his revenge, and decided to leave Frank in peace. But Frank said Carlisle wasn't the type of man to just give up, and that if you ever wanted to stop running, someone would have to die.

During your few months together, you also learned that Frank wasn't the type to run away or avoid confrontation. The only reason he hadn't met Carlisle half way and taken him down was to keep you safe. That and the fact that he had been forced to leave behind some supplies shortly before you met and was left with nothing but a handgun, two bullets, and a pocket knife. (All things you could use to kill a man, but probably not a trained assassin).

You were both anticipating the end of the chase, however, because Frank had recently acquired various new firearms and a respectable pile of ammunition, and he was getting a little tired of running. Also, there's only so much distance you can put between you and your attacker before he realizes he's moving in the wrong direction. You had just pulled your favorite cotton nightgown over your head when-

*BANG*

You heard the unmistakable sound of the motel door being forced open. You heard a gunshot and something hit the floor. The sounds of a physical struggle just behind the bathroom door simultaneously relieved you and caused your heart to slam against your rib cage. At least you knew Frank was still alive. Unfortunately, so was the person who broke in. You couldn't see him, but you were pretty sure you knew who it was.

Two more gunshots shocked you into motion. You slid under the bathroom sink and tried desperately to remember what Frank told you to do on your first night together in case of a break in. He told you to get outside and find a hiding spot or barricade yourself in a closet or bathroom and wait for him to come get you. His voice in your head was commanding you, "Do. Not. Move." You tried to do as you were told but the urge to make sure Frank was alright was growing stronger. The muffled grunts and thuds were scaring you. You couldn't tell who had the upper hand and you didn't know enough about guns to determine which shots came from which man.

A loud cry of pain from Frank was your final straw. There wasn't a single thought in your head, let alone a plan, but you couldn't keep hiding while someone you cared about was potentially getting himself killed. You ran to the bathroom door, unlocked it, and threw it open with as much force as you could manage. The door slammed into the wall beside it with a loud crash. A distraction.

Just a few feet in front of you, Jordan Carlisle was caught off guard by the sound and he twirled around to find the source. Almost instantly, his gun was trained on you. Suddenly, you felt consumed by fear unlike anything you'd ever felt before. You heard the gunshot and flinched violently backward, as if you could somehow escape the bullet, stumbling back onto the bathroom floor. You screamed and squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for the impact, but it never came. You hesitantly opened your eyes just in time to watch Carlisle collapse onto the dirty motel carpet, eyes open and unseeing. He was dead. The chase was over.

Almost immediately you burst into tears, unable to get the image of his lifeless body out of your head. You knew you should be relieved, but there was something about almost dying that made you prone to emotional outbursts. You gazed up at Frank across the room, who still had his gun pointed at the spot where Carlisle had been standing moments before. He slowly lowered it and looked over at you where you were sitting on the floor, sobbing. He seemed angry, like every cell in his body was infused with a furious energy, and he had just shot the thing he was taking it out on.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Guess now it was your turn. "I TOLD YOU IF SOMEONE BREAKS IN, YOU FIND A PLACE TO HIDE AND YOU STAY THERE."

"I was j-just wo-horried about you," you hiccuped.

"I HAD IT COVERED."

"I'm sorr-"

"YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED. THEN ALL OF THIS RUNNING BULLSHIT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR NOTHING."

You turned your head away from the shouting and found yourself looking directly at Carlisle again. This time, you were unable to turn away. It was like you were completely frozen, tension locking all your muscles in place, rendering you incapable of even the slightest movement. Your tears began falling harder but you were barely making a sound. Your lungs were tight and burning. You couldn't even draw in a full breath. Frank's reprimanding faded into background noise. You found yourself wishing desperately that you were anywhere but in that room.

"Oh, fuck," Frank muttered when he saw you damn near hyperventilating. He calmed down considerably when he realized yelling at you was only making things worse. "Shit, I didn't want you to see this."

He made his way over to your side of the room and knelt down to be at eye level with you. You barely acknowledged his presence.

"Hey, look at me," he asked gently. You didn't move your head. Softly, Frank cupped your cheek, the one farther away from him, and used it to turn you in his direction.

"You're gonna be okay," he promised. "Can you stand, sweetheart?"

Seeing Frank alive and calm helped you come back to yourself. Slowly, you nodded. Frank stood and held out his hand to you, which you used to pull yourself up with a little effort. You managed to get upright, but your legs were shaking so hard you weren't sure if you'd be able to walk. It was pathetic, and you were quite sure Frank would agree, but he didn't say anything about it. He just took one look at you and scooped you up into his arms. You were embarrassed by your incompetence, but you had finally stopped crying, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.

Frank carried you over to your bed on the far side of the room and laid you down carefully. On your way over, you passed his bed which was closer to the bathroom, and saw two bullet holes in the pillow Frank had been laying on when you left to take a shower. That was when the relief hit you. You felt no more grief or fear or regret, only solaced by the fact that you were both alive and safe at last.

"Stay here, alright? Don't move," Frank murmured. He turned to walk over to the body again but you grabbed onto his arm before he could leave. He looked back at you questioningly.

"I heard you get hurt," you mentioned shyly. "What happened?"

Frank's eyes revealed that he was happy you were talking again. He seemed touched that your first concern when the shock wore off was for him.

"Ran into the nightstand," he admitted, rubbing his side. "It's just bruised, nothing to worry about."

You had a feeling he wasn't telling you the full story, but you decided to accept his answer. As far as you could tell, he wasn't bleeding anywhere and he didn't seem to be in much pain. Satisfied, you let go of his arm and turned to face the wall. You had a feeling you wouldn't want to see what was about to happen.

You laid there for a while, listening to Frank working behind you. You heard something being dragged across the floor, several grunts of effort and a sickening thud. You heard the faucet running in the sink and the sound of the bathroom door closing. There were footsteps moving around the room. . . the sound of someone changing clothes. You smelled the air freshener left in the bathroom cabinet masking the scent of blood.

Finally, after God knows how long, you felt the bed dip slightly as Frank sat down on the edge. You sat up and moved next to him, resting your head on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation. He put his arm around your shoulder and held you closer to him. The two of you weren't usually this affectionate, but you had certainly grown closer during your time together, and you figured the situation called for it.

"Do you think the police are on their way down here?" you asked.

Frank shrugged. "Probably not if they haven't shown up by now." Frank tried and failed to fight back a small smile. "Either that guy behind the front desk is a really heavy sleeper, or he did something to piss off the jackass in our bathtub. The only other people in this dump checked out yesterday," he said. You couldn't help but smile at that along with him. You were just so happy to be alive.

The more you let that thought run through your head, the more you wanted to be close to him. You needed more than an arm around your shoulder after you almost got shot in the head. You wanted to be held. 'Oh, sue me,' you thought. 'Who wouldn't?'

But you tried to let it be enough. You weren't sure how Frank would react to more than what you were already doing and you were too nervous to find out. You felt Frank shift next to you and realized that overthinking had caused you to become tense. The silence between you grew slowly thicker and you were worried he was about to pull away from you. In that moment, Frank standing up seemed like the absolute worst thing in the world that could happen to anyone, and you weren't about to let it.

'Fuck it', you thought, and with one quick movement, you were straddling his lap with your arms thrown over his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He was caught off guard for a brief moment, but a second later his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in and savoring the feeling of his pulse against your cheek.

"We're okay, Frankie," you breathed. "It's over."

"I told you I was gonna keep you safe, sweetheart. I don't make promises I can't keep."

The two of you stayed like that for a while, content to just hold each other until the sun shone through the curtains. Well, you thought you were content, but it wasn't long before the closeness started to affect you. He was just so warm and solid, and suddenly you felt like he was wearing too many clothes. You wanted to feel him. Feel his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin on yours.

Your stomach was tight with desperation and you felt tears forming behind your eyes. You needed to be closer. Your thighs tightened around Frank's hips and he felt your breathing get heavier against his neck. You shifted your position slightly to ease some of the wanting in your veins but you froze when you heard Frank's breath hitch.

As you settled your weight on his lap again, your new position provided a new sensation. There was something warm pressing against your inner thigh. Even through Frank's impenetrable denim jeans, you could feel it heating up.

Frank was just as aroused by your position as you were. He wanted you, too, but you knew he would never admit it because he cared about you too much to do anything that could potentially hurt you.

The worst part was, you could feel it getting bigger and pulsing softly right next to where you wanted it the most, and he knew you could feel it. He knew, and he knew you wanted it, but he still wasn't saying anything about it because he was too damn stubborn. He probably thought you weren't in your right mind and would regret it in the morning but that was just such bullshit. You could never regret him, and you were going to make sure he knew that.

There was still some part of you that was afraid to make a move, and that part of you really wanted Frank to break first. So, you decided to make him unable to ignore it any longer. Pretending to adjust your position again, you settled down directly on top of his bulge, making sure it was exactly where you wanted it. The feeling of his cock hardening against you sent another wave of desperation through your body, causing you to tighten your limbs around him again. Still feigning innocence, you rolled your hips once for good measure, grinding down on him to see his reaction.

You didn't see it so much as feel it, when his arms tensed up around you and he turned his head away from you in frustration. You could feel your blood pumping hard, and you were sure your face was flushed. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat the same way you could feel his pressed up against your clit. You felt his cock twitch again, even through three layers of fabric, and you could barely take it any more. You rolled your hips again, purely on instinct, and accidentally let out a soft moan.

Frank exhaled sharply and slid his arm from around your waist to pull your head away from his neck.

"What are you doin', sweetheart?" he asked, looking at you sympathetically when he saw your wrecked face. Suddenly, it was all too much for you, and there was nothing you could do to stop a rogue tear from sliding down your cheek.

"Please," you whispered, and that was all you had to say.

He put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you toward him before lightly brushing his lips against yours. You pushed forward, wanting more, but Frank pulled away before you could really kiss him. He just sat there for a moment, searching your eyes for any signs of reluctance or any lack of clarity whatsoever. In the end, he found nothing but pure desire and maybe, just maybe, love.

This time, when he leaned in, you met him half way. This time, it was more than just a brush of lips. Frank kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. Gentle, yes, but also tortuously deep. You felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and gently coax your mouth open to kiss you harder, and it was warm and wet and perfect. As your need got worse, you began to grind down on him again, sighing into his mouth from the friction.

The hand he had on your neck moved up to tangle in your hair, tugging gently, while the other one shifted to settle on your lower back as he encouraged harder, slower movements of your hips. As he forced you down against him, the feeling of the rough denim on your clit through your thin panties caused you to whine quietly. Every slight movement sent sparks shooting up your spine.

You shifted your body backwards and reached down between you to tug at his zipper, but it didn't want to come down. Frank let you struggle with it for a moment, but just as you started getting frustrated, he took over for you.

In one swift movement, you were on your back underneath him, your legs still hooked around him. He sat up for a moment to pull off his shirt (revealing his fucking perfect abs that seemed completely unfair and you were about to LOSE YOUR MIND BECAUSE HOLY SHIT) and then he was back on top of you, pressing one last kiss to your lips before pulling away to look you in the eyes.

"You sure you want this, sweetheart?"

"Don't you fucking dare leave me like this, Castle."

Frank snorted, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Yes, ma'am."

With one hand, he reached down to unzip and tug down his pants and underwear, freeing his flushed cock from it's uncomfortable confines. It was bigger than you expected it to be, which is saying something because you already knew he was big from rubbing against it. He was so hard it looked painful, and he gave himself a few tugs to take the edge off. Just watching it drip onto the bed had you feeling dizzy. You were unbearably wet and all you wanted was to feel it inside of you.

Luckily, Frank seemed to tell as much, because he slid his hand up your thigh, kissing your neck gently and pushing the hem of your nightgown up to your stomach. He hooked the fingers of one hand in the waistband of your underwear but he paused there, waiting for some sort of go-ahead. You nodded at him, and he sat back again to tug your panties down your legs and pull them off.

This time, instead of immediately climbing back on top of you, Frank took a moment to admire you from an upright position. He gazed hungrily at your exposed cunt before swiping a finger through your folds and brushing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You jolted at the feeling, whimpering when he did it again just to watch you shudder.

"Frankie, please," you whined.

Frank decided to have mercy on you, and he came up to kiss you as he lined the tip of his cock up with your aching hole. He pushed slowly until the thick head was all the way in, surrounded by your soft, fluttering walls. It was a stretch, and it wasn't even half-way in. You appreciated Frank giving you a moment to adjust, but you didn't want one. You wanted to feel all of him, even if it hurt.

Hooking your legs tighter around him, you tried to push him into you. It didn't work, obviously. You didn't think you could move Frank if you barreled into him full-force, but he got the message.

In one smooth thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, grunting loudly and whispering an "Oh, fuck" into your neck. Your back arched up off the bed and you moaned loudly as his cock hit sweet spots inside you that you didn't even know existed.

Having Frank hovering over you, connected to you in so many ways, was easily the best thing you'd ever experienced. You were both breathing heavily and shaking as you waited for the initial pleasure shock to wear off.

Once you adjusted, you shifted slightly under him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. Whatever stimulation you managed to get from that was nothing compared to when he actually started moving. Each thrust was slow and deep, sending waves of bliss coursing through you. You couldn't stop the gasps and whimpers that kept escaping, nor did you want to.

Franks arms were on either side of your head, closing you in so all you could see and feel was him. You had never felt so safe in your entire life. Every movement was so complete and perfect. Nothing was rushed or forceful, but it was still all pure pleasure. You were sure you had never been this wet before.

Feeling Frank's back muscles shift under your fingertips as he thrust into you was mesmerizing, and hearing him moan softly and curse against your pulse point was sending shivers through your body. Every time Frank pushed his cock back inside you, you felt yourself ascending further, rapidly approaching your peak. Every time he pulled out slowly so you could feel it dragging against every part of your sensitive walls, you wanted to sob from feeling so good.

It wasn't long before you were crying out from your release, tightening your grip on every part of Frank and leaving long scratches down his back. When your climax finally hit, you swore you were having an out-of-body experience.

"Attagirl, that's it," Frank whispered as he felt you spasm around him. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart. Where-" he began. Reluctantly, you rubbed your hand on your stomach. You hadn't had access to birth control in almost six weeks and shitty motels don't provide condoms. Even the ones with good water pressure.

You rubbed the back of Frank's head gently as his thrusts grew more erratic, grabbing onto and playing with his hair. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and jerked his cock barely three times before he was finishing on your stomach with a quiet groan, painting it with his cum.

Breathing heavily, the two of you collapsed next to each other, coming down from your highs and processing what just happened. Idly, you began playing with the mess on your stomach as you thought about what was next for the two of you. There was no way in hell you were letting Frank drop you off at your house and just take off after that. You know you said "It's over," but it couldn't really be over, right?

"Stay with me," you whispered.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, baby."

"I'm not talking about tonight. When you take me back home, stay with me."

Frank pushed himself up on one elbow, looking at you in disbelief. "Sweetheart, I don't think I can-"

"Then I'll stay with you. My house is a family heirloom, I've only gotta pay for water and electricity. It'll still be waiting for me whenever I need it."

"I can't let you do that. You have no idea how much I want to, but I'd get you killed."

"Then stop moving for a while. No one would find you in that town. Just stay with me. Please. If you hate it, you can leave."

Frank sighed, glancing around the room before settling his gaze back on you. He brought his hand to your face, brushing his fingertips down your cheek like you were a precious artifact. You both knew he wasn't ready to let you go.

"Okay."

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