#Or you're welcome if it's time for you to sleep

[darknight3904]

𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘰

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘖𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥…

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024).

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪��. 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 18+

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.9𝘬

𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘚𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 / 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

It was an understatement to say Logan Howlett was good-looking. Every day waking up next to him was like an episode of America's, or well, Canada's next top model.

If there was a god up there, you wanted to thank them for whatever was in Logan's genetics, Even now, with messy hair and half awake, he was giving you butterflies.

"Quit starin', bub." Logan huffs as he brushes by you to get to the coffee maker.

You swore he was some alien from another planet. Seriously, how was he this hot?

Even at work, you found yourself daydreaming about him.

"Y'know, you're not paid to slack off." Matt huffed as he rearranged a shelf that some kid had messed up.

Your coworker's words had you groaning in annoyance. How could he be so inconsiderate? Interrupting your thoughts like that?

"The shop is literally empty!" You huff looking around at the little bookstore.

"Well, if I don't have a hot boyfriend to dream about, I don't see why you should get the privilege to." Matt grinned

"Whatever." You roll your eyes, "Not my fault he's the whole package."

Nearly a week had passed since you had gotten to have real alone time with Logan. Between work, running Laura around, and Wade's impromptu visits to your shared apartment, you and Logan hadn't seen much of each other.

Normally, you'd be able to accept this, after all life was busy. But, today it was like someone had lit a fire under you and the only way to put it out was with Logan in between your thighs.

Perhaps it was just because it was ovulation week, but all you could think about was getting home and pulling Logan into bed with you. God, you missed him so much...you were a ball of hormones and want as your mind wandered, imagining little versions of you and Logan running around the apartment, terrorizing Laura and Wade when he visited.

Friday night was often filled with stress, usually, you were sitting on uncomfortable metal bleachers, watching Laura's soccer games. But, this week was different, the game had been rained out and Laura had convinced you and Logan that she could sleep over at a friend's house.

The soft clink of keys had you turning towards the front door. Finally, Logan was home.

"I'm back." He announced as your cat, Jingle jumped from your lap to greet the man.

"Missed you." You smile as he plops down on the couch next to you, pressing his lips to your forehead briefly

"Wade kept me out longer than I thought he would." Logan says, "His fucking mouth is going to get him killed one day."

"If he could die." You snort

Logan lets out an amused scoff as he pulls you into his lap, eagerly pressing a kiss to your neck. His hands are a welcome weight as they settle on your hips, squeezing at the soft flesh there.

"Laura at her friends?" He asks with a coy smile

"Mmhm. Dropped her off myself." You say, wiggling your hips a bit in anticipation.

" Gonna take a shower," He says, "Meet me in the bedroom?"

You giggle and smile at the mischievous look on his face.

"Make it quick." You press a kiss on his cheek.

The scent of Logan's shampoo wafts down the hallway as you shimmy into something you've been keeping a secret for a few weeks. A lacy blue babydoll lingerie dress sits on your body as you quickly step into the matching thong it came with. You stand in front of the full-length mirror Logan hung on the back of the door to your shared bedroom.

You mess around with your hair, trying to find the perfect look, and then swipe on a strawberry-flavored gloss, one of Logan's favorites. You can't help but feel a bit giddy as you take in your appearance. Messy hair, shiny lips, and the perfect little number on your frame, you're sure to drive Logan even crazier than he already was for you.

The squeaking of the bathroom door's hinge's have you whirling around, unsure if you should lay on the bed, or perhaps sit on the edge.

You don't get a chance to make up your mind as Logan pushes the bedroom door open. A deep green towel is wrapped around his waist as your eyes greedily roam his perfect torso.

Logan sucks in a breath as he crosses the room to be closer to you. A big hand runs up your side, ghosting over your chest and then back down to land on your waist.

"Where'd you get this?" He smiles, eyes anywhere but your face.

"bought it a couple of weeks ago." You softly say, suddenly shy under his gaze, "Do you like it?"

"Love it." Logan smiles, meeting your eyes and letting the towel drop from his waist.

You let him push you down into the soft sheets of your shared bed, moaning a bit when his hands begin to wander.

Warm lips press against your neck, and then your collarbone, and then they begin to trail down to your chest. Logan's hands push the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders and his mouth begins to softly tease one of your nipples while one hand delivers feather-light touches over your panties to the mess between your legs.

Logan's mouth leaves your chest as he pulls you to the edge of the bed, letting his knees hit the ground as he gently pushes your legs apart. His hands pull your panties down and you hear a deep groan when the wet fabric finally hits the floor.

"Missed her," Logan says, pressing a miss to your upper thigh

You roll your eyes at his comment, he had recently taken up talking to your cunt, referring to it as her.

A loud moan escapes your lips as he buries his head between your thighs, licking up your slit and gently sucking at your clit.

"Ugh, Logan..." You groan, you're extra sensitive after a week apart.

Your hips jump off the bed when he slips two fingers into you, pressing at the spongy part that only he can reach.

"Fuck-" You gasp as he sucks at your clit again, this time rougher than the last.

Finally, this is what you needed, you groaned again as you pictured what was coming next. Your stomach tightened with need for release as your cunt wept and ruined the sheets below you. You were desperate for his cock, craving the way you knew it'd stretch you out, putting an end to the past week of torture.

Logan pushes your hips back down as your body goes taut and your orgasm takes over. Your hands tug at his soft brown hair as your chest heaves.

Logan presses a kiss to your clit one more time before sitting back, his eyes looking up at you.

"Not bad." You sigh, a dopey smile on your face

Logan lets out a scoff as he stands up and pulls you further up the bed with him. You greedily run your hands down his chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as your fingertips tease them.

"Greedy," Logan comments as you pull him on top of you

"Can't help it." You sigh, "I've missed you."

"I can tell. She's like a fucking waterpark down there." Logan laughs as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"You're gross." You comment as you feel your face heat up

"Only for you," Logan says

You suppose you might've had a clever retort but the push of the cock that you had craved all week long has you shutting your mouth.

Logan's hips gently meet yours as he sets a slow pace. A quiet moan leaves his lips as you wiggle below him. The stretch of him is as good as you remember but you need more.

"Harder." You groan as he looks down at you

"Don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart," Logan says worriedly

You a frustrated breath tumbles from your lips as you wiggle your hips unhappily. Logan was always so considerate and gentle with you. Always taking his time and making sure you were okay. He was truly ethereal in the bedroom. But, right now he was driving you nuts.

Logan lets out a loud oof as you push him off you and down onto the bed. You can tell he's confused as you settle yourself into his lap and reach into the bedside drawer.

A smirk plays on his lips as a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs come into his line of sight.

"Those for you?" He asks, "Want me to tie you up, bub?"

You roll your eyes as he plays with the thin strap of the lingerie that had fallen off your shoulders.

"They're for you." You smile as you grab his wrists, pulling them behind his head so he's stuck to your bed frame.

Logan's smile falters a bit but he lets you maneuver his arms anyway, "I can break these, easily."

"But you won't." You whisper into his ear and bite at the flesh there

"But I won't." Logan softly says, his eyes following your figure

Warm butterflies swim in his stomach as you line him up with your cunt again. He's never tried this position with you before, fearing it might be too much, after all, he wasn't the smallest guy around.

A soft groan leaves your lips as you sink down on him again. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders a bit as his head falls back a bit.

"New position?" He asks, regaining his confidence when he sees you're not in pain

"Mmhm." You say, focused on moving your hips

Logan's eyes widen as he lets you take what you want. The soft fuzz on the handcuffs tickles his skin as he itches to run his hands up and down your pretty body.

"Careful," He cautions you as you roughly move your hips above him

"Logan..." You groan, your eyes squeezed shut

He groans, as your pace quickens. The lust that clouds his brain is a tough fog that he can barely think through. He's worried that you're going to hurt yourself like this.

"M-Missed you so much." You confess, "Been thinking about you all damn week."

"Yeah?" Logan smiles and presses a kiss to your collarbone

"Yeah..." You sigh, "I've been so fucking horny lately."

Perhaps it's your admission or the lacy little thing that has yet to come off your body, or the new position, Logan's not entirely sure, but something in him snaps. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so worried about treating you like some delicate little flower.

The handcuffs don't stand a chance as he frees himself, from them. His hands come up and he quickly pulls out of you. A loud frustrated whine leaves your lips as you let him manhandle you.

"Logan I want to-"

He cuts you off as he spins you around and presses your chest down into the bed. You can feel the way he towers over you as he palms your ass, clearly liking the way it's on display for him.

"Have you ever tried this one?" His deep voice crowds your mind as he pushes into you again. A long moan leaves your lips as he chuckles at your submission.

A wonton cry leaves your lips below him as he finally moves his hips, cock hitting all the right places inside you.

Finally, you were getting what you wanted.

Not me disappearing into the void and then coming back and deciding it's the perfect time to write a bunch of smut...

Comment to be added to the taglist.

Tags:

@kellyxo1 @mystiquesvendetta @gingerplague

@veru-boom @qardasngan @fandomsunited @reidsworld

@arrozconpepitoria @iamm3 @gigabitemyass @wordacadabra

@e-ak @khaylin27  @eternallyfrustratedwriter @chaimshelii

@badbishsblog @britttzy267 @lilly4639 @delicateholland

@cherrypieyourface @scrumptiousroadpalaceturkey

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@fallout-girl219

@mrs-ephemeral @halepack2011 @insanesosciopath @venusindelusion @wolverines-tits

[sugdenlovesdingle]

a little Tommy & Chim bffs for @rileychester

----

"Her ladyship requests, no demands, uncle Buck reading her a story before bed instead of her own mother." Maddie said, walking back into the livingroom after having gone to put Jee to bed half an hour ago.

"What can I say, it's not easy being this popular." Buck joked and extracted himself from where he'd been happily tucked under Tommy's arm on Maddie and Chimney's way too comfortable sofa. He quickly kissed Tommy, murmured something about being right back, and followed Maddie up to Jee's room.

Tommy watched him until he was out of the room and then turned back to Chim who was laughing at him.

"Damn Kinard you've got it bad."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tommy said, trying to act somewhat cool and hide his reddening cheeks behind his wine glass.

"Yeah I'm sure you don't." Chim took a sip of his own drink. "I mean I love Maddie more than anything in the world, but I don't kiss her goodbye when she leaves the room."

"Well maybe you should start." Tommy told him. If he was getting called out, he might as well own it. "It's working pretty well for us."

"She'd probably think I was going crazy and call Hen to come check me over. Who would then also ask me if I'd lost my mind." He said and they both laughed. "But it's good to see you so happy, man. Both of you. Even if I never in a million years would have guessed that you two would end up together."

"Me neither really." Tommy admitted. "I actually almost let your call go to voicemail that night. My shift was almost over and there was bad weather coming in... I just wanted to go home and catch up on some sleep."

"And there was me asking you to steal a helicopter because of a hunch. I'm sure Bobby is still very grateful you didn't ignore me." Chim said and raised his glass at him. "To team who cares!"

Tommy clinked his glass against Chim's.

"Bobby isn't the only one who's grateful. If I hadn't answered that call, i would have missed out on the greatest thing that ever happened to me. i wouldn't have met the love of my life. I wouldn't be here now. I might have downloaded that dating app again that I'd deleted off my phone a few days before or taken Lucy up on her offer to set me up with her friend." Tommy shook his head. "I'm just glad I did answer. it definitely changed my life for the better."

"You're getting sappy in your old age, Kinard." Chimney teased. "When is the wedding? Do I have time to buy a hat?" he joked, expecting Tommy to laugh with him. Only when he didn't say anything Chim really looked at him. "What? Tell me you didn't..."

"I asked Evan to marry me last night." Tommy told him after a beat. "He said yes."

Chimney blinked a few times to process the information.

"Of course he said yes! He's just as crazy about you as you are about him." he got up to hug his friend. "Welcome to the family, man. We'll officially be brothers."

Tommy smiled and finished the last of his wine.

"There is one thing I wanted to talk to you about though..."

"Shoot."

"When Evan and I get married... will you be my best man?"

"It would be the greatest honour of my life."

---

Send me a prompt and I'll write you a ficlet!

[anywhere-with-you-event]

Creator Reveals!

Welcome back everyone for the last day of our event! Today we're unveiling the creators of all the wonderful fanworks currently in our collection ❤️💙 This is gonna be a long post so buckle up.

If you have not received your gift work yet, please check your email for more information.

I hope that someone gets my… by @onthewaytosomewhere (mae on ao3)

please could you be tender? by @judasofsuburbia

The Little Pup That Could by @wordscavenger

Seasons of Love Letters by @Muddbloodpotter05

vanity fur by @babygirlgalitzine

draw me like one of your french girls by @lesliesknopes (buttercupkisses on ao3)

Still Sitting in the Corner I Haunt by @brokenchairwrites

you should think about the consequence by saintsnames

watch where you put your hands by @thedramasummer (acheinmybones on ao3)

takes one to know one by @thesleepyskipper

There's clay under my nails and desire burning in my heart by @tinyarmedtrex

Crystal Heart by @dizzymisslizzie (LK_42 on ao3)

Without a Summer by @orchidscript

What Goes Up Must Come Down by bleedingballroomfloor

Change Your Ticket (Maybe I Miss You) by @cactusdragon517 (MayQueen517 on ao3)

omg they were roommates by @glasshouses-and-stones

Bake a Sugar Cake by @jackzimmermemes (Luminous_Bluebell on ao3)

let you love me by @thinkingaboutelephants

Comments Make the Heart Grow Fonder by @suseagull04

i'd rather tangle with him by @taste-thewaste

Don’t sleep with the customers by @swoonoveryou3

[podfic] rest your weary head by @schitthappens (dairaliz on ao3)

there's a million little reasons why i want you near by @henryspearl

We Fit Together by @cricketnationrise

Sweet as Cinnamon by quill_and_ink

Pretty Competent by @noahreids (High-Seas-Swan on ao3)

your kiss is on my list by @priincebutt

lost in the revelry (lost in the make believes) by @tailsbeth-writes

Fake It Till We Make It by @milowren29

Outshine the Stars by @luainthewild

a knight to remember by acheinmybones

Call It Fate by @emmalostinwonderland

[podfic] may the fourth be with you by @iwaizumi-keiji

Careful Cooking by @iboatedhere

90s romcom remix by @incalamity

It's not just like you're kind of on my mind (I think about you all the time) by haaaveyoumetted

How Do You Say I Love You by @magicmelinoe

you'll be in my heart (always) by @bigswitchenergyy (dreakawa on ao3)

you can see it (with the lights out) by @kj-bee

know that you deserve to have it by @read-and-write- (JustNo on ao3)

Keep You in my Incognito Tab by @louikazooie

That's a wrap, friends! If anyone promotes their fic here on tumblr, please tag this account so we can reblog your post, and if you haven't already go comment on your gift!

Thank you so much to everyone who participated. We are grateful to each and every one of you for making this such a special event. Remember to take care of yourselves, and keep the things that bring you a bit of joy close.

History, huh? Bet we could make some.

[yasmindifference]

#4

wow why is it so big... ._. ... and jaytim pls :3

It's been snowing for three days straight, and Gotham has subsided into eerie silence.

That doesn't mean Jason's not patrolling, of course; it just means his patrols are a lot quieter than usual. It also means he's fucking freezing by the end of it, extra layers be damned.

On the bright side, the weather does make an excellent excuse for an extended stay at Tim's place. Someone's gotta make sure the spleenless wonder doesn't get taken out by a stray breeze, and who better than Jason?

That's his reasoning and he's sticking to it...not that anyone's asking. The Bats are too cold to even notice where Jason's spending the night, much less bother him about the whys.

And Tim, to his ever-pleasant surprise, never questions Jason's reason for showing up. He'll just pass him an extra plate of his dinner, or scoot over to make room for him on the couch, or enlist his help for whatever case he's working on, all without hesitation.

Or, like tonight--when Jason finds him already in bed--he lifts his (many) blankets in silent invitation.

A silent invitation that, after a quick change, Jason's more than happy to accept.

Snow is still falling outside the (one-way) glass that makes up two walls of Tim's penthouse suite, but inside it's toasty warm. Warm enough that Jason eschews the shirt he left here a while ago (freshly laundered since) in favor of just the sweatpants he's fairly certain he didn't. They don't look familiar, even though they're very much his size and stacked right next to his shirt on top of Tim's dresser.

Did Tim buy sweatpants specifically for him?

Jason's not gonna question it--too afraid the answer's no--but it's a nice thought.

He slides into bed next to Tim and is immediately pinned down when Tim eels on top of him and latches on tight.

"You're cold," he says with an unhappy little noise...but he very noticeably doesn't loosen his grip at all.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah, it's like ten below, if you hadn't noticed."

"Mm." Tim somehow manages to hug him tighter. "You're the last one in tonight. Even Bruce called it early."

Jason slips his hands under Tim's shirt to warm them against his back. It'd take a better man than him not to enjoy how Tim squirms against him in response.

"Did Bruce call it, or did he get dragged?" he asks idly.

"There may have been force involved," Tim acknowledges.

That said, he yawns and tucks his face in the curve of Jason's neck.

"You made me wait forever," he adds grumpily.

Not that Jason would admit it (and good thing no one's here to call him on it), but that warms him more than the blankets and Tim's body heat combined.

Tim was waiting for him. Jason didn't find him buried in a pile of blankets reading on his tablet after a long patrol because he couldn't sleep, he found him like this because Tim was staying awake until he got here.

He keeps thinking this thing of theirs is uncertain, but...it's not, really. Every time he turns around, Tim's showing him, again and again, how welcome he is.

Maybe he really doesn't need an excuse.

So he doesn't bother coming up with one before he kisses Tim's hair--and, as usual, Tim doesn't ask. He just smiles into Jason's neck and kisses it in return.

"Night," he murmurs.

"Goodnight," Jason says, and with Tim on top of him--Tim trusting him--Tim wanting him--it really is.

Prompt #4 was snuggling beneath the covers! Well chosen! ♡♡

[taojjang]

𐙚 riize's favorite thing to do with you

pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: fluff, warnings: they down bad fr

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

♡⸝⸝ times he feels happiest by your side

shotaro . . . shopping with you!

taro truly loves spoiling you— whether with new jewelry or a bunch of kisses, he always has something to give you. he often finds excuses to go spend money with you. for instance, you could mention that you really like chocolate and he'll respond, "let's go for some ice cream!" he just loves giving you everything you want :( and that's why he loves your late-night convenience store runs!

the second you tell shotaro you want a snack, he's already grabbing his car keys and telling you to put on your jacket. when you arrive at the convenience store, taro runs straight towards your favorite snack and tosses two of them into the basket. "is there anything else you're craving, honey?" whatever you look at, he puts it in the basket without even looking at the price. in his mind, the smile that you give him when you're eating snacks together is priceless <3

eunseok . . . lounging with you!

eunseok is a simple man, it really doesn't take much to satisfy him. something about the lazy days he spends with you always makes him feel so comfortable. he loves those saturday nights when he comes home from work and you're welcoming him with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. but he loves sunday mornings even more.

he loves waking up with you resting on his chest, not having to turn off his alarm or push you off to get ready for work. if you hadn't woken up and forced him to freshen up, he'd lie there for hours, falling in and out of sleep with you cuddled against him. after brushing your teeth and eating a quick snack, eunseok would drag you right back to bed so he could lie beside you while you finished your overdue tasks on your laptop. he'd occasionally get up to grab a snack for the both of you, but for the most part, he'd play his silly mobile games while you pat his head with your free hand. simple days like this make him feel so happy to be yours.

sungchan . . . eating with you!

sungchan is always so worried about you. the days when he's too busy at work to come and see you, he's texting you every hour to ask if you've eaten yet. he just wants to know you're taking care of yourself when he isn't there to do it himself :( which is why he's always ordering so much food when he comes to your house.

"thank you, baby... but i don't think i can eat all of this." you mutter looking down at the 6 containers of takeout. "it's fine princess, you can eat the leftovers tomorrow." sungchan melts into a giggly mess once you start eating. he loves how adorable you look when you eat <3 so much to the point where he'd buy you every single one of your cravings just to see those cute chubby cheeks :(

"you're so adorable, princess~ how is it? should i order more?"

wonbin . . . dressing up with you!

whether he's going to a fashion show or the grocery store, wonbin has to look good wherever he goes. it's almost sickening having to wait 40 minutes for him to get all dolled up just to grab toothpaste from the pharmacy. but you've got to admit, it's quite fun helping him pick out his outfits. one thing you should expect from helping him out is having to join him in his fashion frenzy.

wonbin loves matching outfits with you! before you leave the house, he'll go into his closet and find a comfy sweater that matches his outfit. but instead of wearing it, he hands it to you. "baby, try this on." you always love wearing his clothes since they're so stylish and cozy (not to mention they smell like him too). he finds it so adorable when you twirl around in front of the mirror, asking him "is this one okay?"

"you already know what i'm gonna say, baby. you're so beautiful!"

seunghan . . . singing with you!

seunghan is truly a passionate man. even on his days off, you catch him dancing in front of the mirror, working tirelessly to ensure he has the choreo down before he goes to work the next day. but when you catch him singing, it's almost mesmerizing. when you walk by the bathroom and hear him singing in the shower, you can't help but press your ear against the door in hopes of hearing him clearly. his voice is incomparable to anything you've ever heard.

he could say the same about yours. the first time he heard you singing a song he'd been practicing, he stopped dead in his tracks and let nothing take his attention away from you. you never believe him when he tells you you're good at singing (i mean, he's literally THEE hong seunghan), but he won't stop telling you how lovely your voice is. he loves your voice so much that his ideal date is singing his heart out with you in the karaoke room! he loves how adorable you look jumping around and singing your favorite song while he's cheering you on. you could never forget how he looks up at you with so much adoration sparkling in his eyes. he adores you more than anything else in the world.

sohee . . . playing with you!

sometimes you get a bit annoyed by how often sohee plays video games. it's so exhausting watching him spend all of his time at his computer when you just want cuddles :( he typically takes a break after a few rounds to grab a snack, but you're always lying on his bed with those sad eyes and a pout, waiting for any bit of attention from him. "hi pretty girl, you okay?" you shake your head. he stands up to stretch and walks to lie beside you. "let's play together." he can't help but laugh at your sudden mood change when he suggests spending time together.

sohee sits against the headboard and you immediately find a spot to sit between his legs, the back of your head resting on his chest. he hands you a controller and lets you pick a game to play. even if it's a game he doesn't like, he always engages in the gameplay and makes sure you have enough fun to forget how upset you were just a few minutes ago. you always giggle knowing your pout always gets you what you want. you truly are his soft spot <3 the two of you play for hours; screaming and laughing at each other until you grow sleepy. once you tell him you're tired, he'll take the controller from your hand and turn off the tv. he'll pull the blanket over you and hold you closer to his chest.

"let's play again tomorrow, hm?"

anton . . . cuddling with you!

to anton, there's no place that's more comforting than your arms. with every hug, he feels like he's falling deeper and deeper in love with you by the second. he never knew someone could feel so much like home. his hugs are always so passionate; wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hiding his face in your neck, savoring every moment of you. every hug drowns you in such addicting warmth that you can't get enough of him. nothing could ever top this feeling. well, except for cuddles, of course.

after a long day, all you truly need is to be held by your big teddy bear. lying down beside anton, he immediately turns to you and rests his head on your chest. beginning to run your hands through his hair, you tell him how exhausting today was and how badly you missed him. he leaves a soft kiss on your lips before wrapping his arms around you, closing the gap between the two of you.

"you're with me now, love. just focus on me."

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

Home [Frankie 'Catfish' Morales]

pairing: frankie 'catfish' morales x reader

wordcount: 787

warnings: none

The loose floorboard in the hallway groans a warning as Frankie eases the apartment door shut with his hip, willing the latch to catch without waking you. It doesn’t cooperate. The sound reverberates like a gunshot in the predawn stillness.

He winces. Holds his breath. Tries to focus on any other sound that isn’t the pounding of his own pulse in his ears. Half-expects to hear the rustle of sheets, the padding of concerned feet.

But the bedroom remains silent. Small mercies. 

In the cramped kitchen, he deposits his keys in the stoneware bowl you made in that pottery class last spring — the glaze a blue so pale it’s almost grey. Frankie likes the weight of it in his palm, the way the cool lip catches on his fingertips. Solid. Real. Just like you.

He then sheds his jacket. The leather one you say makes him look like one of main characters from those Mexican telenovelas your mother used to watch. Drapes the garment over the wonky lath-back chair neither of you use. Stops. Closes his eyes. 

The grey half-light filtering through the blinds paints his skin in shades of ash and sorrow. He knows what he’ll see if he looks in the mirror hanging beside the door. Hair overdue for a cut. Stubble gone rogue. Crow's feet carved deep as canyons around eyes that have seen too much. Bruises under his eyes darker than the ones blooming across his ribs, souvenirs from a world that's always been more keen to break than to bend.

But there are laugh lines there too, now. Trenches carved by joy instead of worry. Your love marks him in kinder ways. And when you run the pad of your thumb along the furrow between his brows, it’s always a little less deep than it was this time last year.

You’re gentling him. Slowly, slowly. A feral creature coaxed in from the cold, learning to trust the warmth of the heart.

Frankie fills the coffee pot. Catalogues his aches as it percolates. His shoulder throbs and his knuckles sting beneath their ripped scabs. Nothing he hasn't endured before. And if he’s being honest, he doesn't remember what it feels like to wake up without something hurting. Without some part of him crying out in remembered pain.

But it's duller now, muted. Easier to breathe through.

He looks away.

There are pink dish gloves, as size too small for his hands, draped over the faucet. A mug with a chip on the rim waiting beside the sink – a faint lipstick print still visible.

You’d waited up. You always wait up. 

His heart clenches and his chest fills up with that feeling that always leaves him a bit disoriented. A little bit dizzy. 

He carries his coffee to the sagging couch, the one you'd picked out together at the thrift store down the street. It's ugly as sin but sinfully comfortable. He sinks into it now, letting the worn fabric absorb his weight, his weariness.

The first sip scalds his throat but he welcomes the burn. Lets his head fall back. Stares at the ceiling. There’s a water stain in the corner that looks like a lopsided heart. He wonders if it’s shaped like yours, misshapen from making room for him inside its chambers. 

His eyes prickle. He closes them. 

The bedroom door sighs and there’s a soft shuffling of bare feet on hardwood. And then you emerge — hair sleep-mussed and eyes barely open. But then you blink at him, your eyes still hazy with dreams, soft and rumpled and smudged at the edges.

His chest constricts, a sweet ache blooming behind his ribs.

"You're home," you mumble, padding to the couch on quiet feet before climbing into his lap, graceless with exhaustion, all elbows and knees and cold toes seeking warmth. You fit yourself against him, your head finding the crook of his neck like it was made to rest there — your cool nose nuzzling against his pulse point.

He wraps his arms around you. Tugs you closer.

“I’m home,” Frankie whispers into your hair, and you only burrow closer. Tuck your cold toes under his thigh. Hum contentedly when his fingers slip under your shirt to trace your spine. His ribs creak as you settle but he doesn’t shift you. Just breathes you in. You smell like sleep and fabric softener and something that might be peace. 

The weak winter sunlight inches across the floor, tentative and pale, reaching for you with gossamer fingers. He lets it come. Lets it wash over you, chasing away the lingering shadows of the night. There are no shadows here it can’t touch. Not anymore. Not while you’re in his arms. 

Not while you're his home.

[beefrobeefcal]

I Keep My Visons to Myself feat. Frankie & f!reader, Ezra & f!reader

Summary: Ezra makes a hard choice and Frankie isn't the right choice. Part 6 of There are Other Fish in the Sea

Pairing: Frankie, Ezra & Mouse | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 4,856

Content Warnings: SMUTTY SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, angry sex, emotional damage, feelings, disturbing nightmares, heart broken ezra, frankie is a big time dummy, sadness, p in the v sex, oral (f receiving), freak nasty floor sex, hair pulling, brief mention of weight gain, poor decision making

Author's Notes: you're welcome to send you fuckboi frankie hate mail to my inbox 💌🥩💜 this chapter hurt me more than it hurt you

Thank you to @bitchesuntitled, @strang3lov3 & @noxturnalnymph for brainstorming this with me and for their eyes and love. apologies to @covetyou in advance

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

His fingers moved along your bare skin softly, gently trying to lure you out of sleep. The haze that you tried to move through to wake up lingered and made his touch all the more dreamlike. You heard his soft chuckle as his lips dragged on your shoulder with lazy kisses and his facial hair gently brushed your skin. His body was pressed warmly against your back, cocooning you. 

For a moment, it was peaceful.

But his hold on you tightened, the soft chuckle turned sour into a deep, cruel laugh, and his voice boomed: 

Don’t you EVER walk away from me when I am talking to you!

His heavy, weighted body moved, pressing you further into terror and you tried to scream for help, for Frankie to let you go, for anything, but you’d open your mouth and nothing would come out. You were helpless under him, silently screaming and unable to do anything as you stared up into Frankie’s black eyes. 

Just fucking listen to me!

You heard another voice, layering on top of Frankie’s, beckoning you out of this nightmare…

A nightmare.

“Just listen to me, Little Bird… Birdie, honey… listen to me– Just fucking listen to me!… you’re dreaming, baby… listen to my voice… wake up - Don’t you EVER walk away from me when I am talking to you!”

The scream you couldn’t release came hurling out of you as your eyes opened and Ezra soothed his hand over your hair, hushing you.

*****

The nightmares were more frequent. Sometimes it was Will dragging you out of your home and Benny refusing to look. Other nights, it was Frankie suffocating you in bed. Once, it was Ezra and his eyes turned black and he grotesquely morphed into Frankie and you couldn’t run fast enough. 

No matter what happened, each one ended the same - you could not scream and you could not escape.

If you were in bed with Ezra, he would sometimes wake you or you would wake up with a jolt in a cold sweat, tears running down your temples and cheeks and you would curl yourself into him as he slept,  not knowing the terror that haunted your dreams. 

You did manage to scare the shit out of Benny as the scream that heralded the end of your nightmare came heaving out of you pulled him from his own sleep and he came running into your room with a tennis racket. 

They were getting worse. 

*****

“...and I can’t get away. I keep hearing his voice, telling me to not walk away when he’s talking to me - like I could escape.”, you said quietly to your therapist, Maggie, without looking up at her.

Maggie nodded, making a note in her book. “And these nightmares started after that interaction you had with Will?”

You paused. Yes, you had blamed that as the catalyst, but there were no nightmares before that and given the nature of them… but what else changed?

“I don’t know…”, you pondered glumly. “The only other thing was - uh, Ez-Ezra and I were… we kinda…”

“You were intimate?”

Your nod in response turned into a shrug. “I guess? We didn’t have sex yet, but he- or we kinda fooled around.”

You kept your eyes low, picking at the errant threads on your pant leg. You swore you could feel Maggie’s eyes on you, waiting for more information. But when you looked up, Maggie was looking at her notepad as she scribbled down in it. 

There was a nagging something at the back of your mind, making your stomach tighten and your throat itch. Why did you assume Maggie was judging you? Why couldn’t you just say “Ezra fingered me on his couch.”? You’d gone into great detail about your food-fueled sex life with Frankie with no shame at all. Why were you shy now? Why did you feel guilty? 

Fuck. That’s what this was - it was guilt. Fucking guilt. But over what?

“I can hear the hamster running on the wheel… what are you thinking about?”

“Guilt.”, you muse. “I feel guilt.”

“And what brought that on?”

“I think it’s what’s…making me have nightmares. I feel guilty - like I didn’t - like I’m letting everyone down and-.”

Maggie nodded, silently encouraging you to keep going.

“I’m- I don’t know why but I have to say this: Ezra fing-”, you caught yourself and took a breath before continuing. “-fingered me on his couch after I read part of Watership Down out loud.”

Maggie’s eyes locked with yours, her face well trained at offering no hint at the potential judgment you assumed was behind it. 

“Watership Down?”

“Yeah. Th-the kids book about rab-”

“Rabbits. The one with the rabbits in the-”

“Yes. Yeah.”

You stared at one another - her face expressionless minus the slightly raised eyebrow while you looked like you had just admitted to being a massive pervert with a rabbit fetish.

“And that makes you feel guilty?”

“No, not about  the rabbits. I mean, I guess it’s weird but it was kinda romant-”

“I was talking about being intimate with Ezra. Do you feel guilty about being intimate with someone other than Frankie?”

You stopped and swallowed, then shrugged. You looked down at that thread you’d coaxed out of the seam of your pant leg, and picked at it again.

“Does Ezra know how you feel?”

*****

Mouse - he loves you and you’re killing him!!

Will had you by the wrists, dragging you into your old home, now twisted and dark, and too big to be real. The front door looked to be an opening to a bottomless pit that he was going to throw you down, and you tried to fight, but your limbs were like lead. No scream came from your mouth no matter how much you tried.

You can’t turn your back on your family!

You felt Will’s arms move around you and you tried pushing him back only to jerk awake to Ezra grunting from your elbow you jabbed him in the rib with. 

Horrified, you turned over and reached out to him, hands shaking. “Oh god, Ezra! I’m sorry!”

He nodded and moved closer to you in the bed, hushing you and trying to get you to lay back down. 

“I’m all right, Birdie… come on now, back to sleep, baby.”, he yawned out. 

*****

Ezra had been working late for private events that week. You’d barely seen him beyond a quick kiss and hello as you popped into the bistro, managing to catch him between drink orders around the side of the bar. It wasn’t a good time to talk.

When you finally had a moment to have him all to yourself, you didn’t want to waste it on discussing your feelings. You already felt like you dumped on him enough and you didn’t want to have him thinking he was your donkey, only good for helping you carry your burdensome feelings. So you swallowed them down, making note that you would eventually have to tell him why you weren’t ready to move forward. That night, he didn’t push for anything beyond kissing and seemed happy but exhausted. It wasn’t a good time to talk.

Waking in the night to another nightmare that he groggily soothed you through, you had it on the tip of your tongue to blurt it out. But one look at his moonlit form starting to doze off again had you think better of it. It wasn’t a good time to talk.

You’d find excuses to make any chance you had not a good time to talk, and it was wearing on you, along with the bite-size chunks of sleep you were getting. You were easily irritated and Benny found that it was almost easier to not talk to you unless he really needed to and you watched his body language change as he braced himself. It sucked.

Ezra, ever patient Ezra, was becoming less so. In your drive to hold back and not make him your emotional dumpster, you’d put up an invisible barrier that only allowed him to watch as you folded into yourself further. While you were so focused on holding back, you didn’t see how it was affecting him, and your nightmares, as intrusive as they were for you, woke him, too, and to make it worse, you wouldn’t tell him what they were about. He wanted to help, but your walls were getting thicker and harder for him to see anything but the snake you had become, eating its own tail. 

It all came to a head one evening. Benny was out with his friends and you and Ezra were idly watching something on the TV. His hand gently touched your knee, and he sighed.

“Anything you need to get off your chest, Little Bird?”

“Hmm?”, you turn and look at him.

His soft, brown eyes were narrowed slightly, directing an intense gaze right into you. It was the same look he gave the unruly and drunk patrons as he gave them a final chance to leave before he escorted them out. It was a serious and firm look that left no room for you to negotiate and spoke more than the question he posed to you.

You had to look away. You felt like a scolded child. “Ezra - ”

“Talk to me.” He reached out to cup your cheek, guiding you to look at him, but you pulled away from his touch.

“Just… no. Stop.” Your words were hushed and biting, hissing out of you while shaking your head.

That seemed to be a trigger for him and his breath came out harshly as he sat back, away from you. You finally brought your eyes up to him, and you saw anger born out of defeat. 

“What do you want from me? To sit and watch you wither up after you’ve culled all the gentility in you? I - “

“Just- Ezra!” You weren’t ready. You’d worked to keep everything hidden from him and everyone else and, god dammit, you were not ready. You blurted out, “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair?”, his eyes go wide in disbelief and he seems for a moment at a loss for words. But he sat up straighter and his tone raised. “No. No you don’t get to tell me this is not fair!”

You couldn’t handle this. You’d told yourself that you would dictate when the time was right and not when it wasn’t under your control. You felt cornered by Ezra, threatened by his demand for an answer and you were spiraling. 

He reached out again, face softening with concern. “Please, talk to me, baby.”

“I don’t owe you shit!”, you snapped, standing up. “There is nothing wrong and nothing to talk about!”

Ezra stood up, slowly, his hands out to try and calm you, but still using that firm, even-keeled voice. “Please, Birdie, don’t lie to me. I can see whatever it is wearing you down - let me in. Let me help!”

You felt like the walls were closing in on you and you didn’t know how to fix this. Tears welled up in your eyes and your chin quivered, but your anger won out and you shook your head with a devastated scowl and yelled, “There is NOTHING wearing me down!!”

His mouth skewed into a frown and he took a deep breath as he shook his head back at you, his hands on his hips as he watched you melt down in front of him. 

“I want so much to be -”, he sighed before raising his voice and stepping towards you, “God dammit, Birdie! I am right here! I do not want you to fall and I am ready to catch you but you have to talk to me! Don’t you dare say there is nothing wearing you down! I hear you crying in your sleep, calling out names and begging them to stop!! I want to stop them!! I want to silence them for you and -” He stopped, his mouth open and lips moving like he’s run out of words to say to try and convince you that he wants only what’s best for you. His eyes were wide and pleading, and his arms dropped to his side. 

When you said nothing in return, he blinked back the tears and nodded. Ezra’s eyes looked away from yours and he stepped back, his voice cracking slightly as he sniffled. “Little Bird, I would have waited. I would have held your hand and waited if you had just let me in…”

You had found the edge of Ezra’s gentle patience and you pushed him too far. The thought swallowed you whole as he receded, the few feet between you feeling like a lifetime now. 

“Ezra…”, you whispered in a broken, quiet sob.

He stepped up to you and held your face as he leaned in and kissed your forehead. 

“I want so badly to be yours.”, he whimpered quietly against your forehead. “Please, Little Bird… please come find me when you are ready.”

And with that, he left. 

*****

Your hubris didn’t allow you to reach out to Ezra and the following few weeks were hell. The nightmares were there and more intense and Benny kept his distance from you even more so. You canceled your following therapy session, not ready to actually face the mess you’d made in being unable to open up, and you felt like you were running out of options. 

It was a quiet evening and you felt restless. Benny was home but was watching a game on the tv, and given how godawful you’d been lately, interrupting him to talk seemed like a stupid idea, but you needed an outlet. You needed to feel something that wasn’t crushing. 

You did the one thing you never thought you would do.

Grabbing your keys, you didn’t bother telling Benny where you were going and you drove the well traveled route you knew like the back of your hand. The moment you parked at the curb you already knew you couldn’t stop yourself even if you tried. 

Your old home didn’t look like it did in your dreams. It was just a house, filled with the memories you’d made with - 

You felt like you weren’t in control when you moved up the walkway and up to the door. Your fist banged on it like you needed to get in at that moment and you heard Frankie calling out that he was coming.

The door opened and you stared right up into Frankie’s face, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like your mind stopped racing. You both just stood there for a moment, not moving. You finally broke the silence.

“Frankie,” you breathed out. “C-can I come in?”

He nodded and stepped aside, opening the door wider for you.

Kicking off your shoes, you looked around and saw that he’d moved and replaced some of the furniture and decor, but it smelled the same. 

“You w- you want anything to drink?” His voice came out unsure, almost like you weren’t really there and if he did too much, you’d disappear.

You shook your head “I just want to talk.”

***** You and Frankie had exchanged pleasantries as you commented on the house and the changes he’d made and he noted your hair and how he liked what you did with it. The small smile on his face as he said it stung your already frayed heart. 

“I came here because I need to… to talk to you.”

His brows furrowed as concern grew on his face. “I thought you were with some-”

“No.” you interrupted with a head shake, not looking up at him. “Not anymore.”

He nodded and moved closer to you on the couch and sat forward, forearms to his thighs, and tilted his head to try and see your face. When your eyes met his, he smiled. “Talk to me.”

“I need to say firstly, I’m really proud of you for getting sober, Frankie.” You sat up and looked directly at him. “Really. I mean it.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, tingeing the tips of his ears pink, and his smile grew as he nodded. “Thanks, baby.”

You knew he knew how to distract you from having a tough conversation and you shouldn’t have come here and you definitely shouldn’t be sitting this close to him and letting him call you baby, but maybe you needed a distraction; was it so wrong to just let yourself feel good? When his hand came up to your face, you didn’t pull away, taking comfort in something so familiar. 

“Mouse, baby…”, he whispered, leaning in. You didn’t do what you should have and got out of there. No, instead you let him kiss you and worse, when he pulled his head back, you grabbed him and kissed him harder. His mouth opened and his tongue sought entrance and when you granted it, his hands gripped your waist and pulled you onto his lap.

The warmth that had evaded you for so long came rushing back as Frankie took charge, just like before. Even if your rational mind was screaming at you to get away from him, your body responded like it was starved for his touch alone. 

His hand slipped between you, lifting your shirt and touching your skin, making you suck in a harsh breath. Gripping your waist, he rocked his hips up into yours and you felt his hard cock press against you. When you parted, his eyes were heavily lidded and his mouth slightly cocked in a grin.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby…”, he whispered, then his tongue darted out, just barely wetting his lower lip. “You gonna let me show you how sorry I am, princess?”

Princess. That name, the name he reserved only for you in private but used publicly on that other woman on social media. 

“Frankie.” It came out quiet, but firm.

He nodded, licking his lips again, face softening into a gentle, warm smile. “I know, baby… too soon.”

He leaned forward and coaxed you into another soft kiss. “Too soon…” Frankie kissed you again. “Lemme show you how sorry I am, baby…”

Your body became pliant to him again, and again, he deepened the kiss and moved under you, sitting up then moving to the floor as he held you against him. He laid you back and he pulled your shirt off, then laved open mouth kisses on your neck.

“So fuckin’ sorry, baby…”, he cooed lowly, gripping your hips as he buried his face between your bra-clad tits, inhaling deeply. 

Your fingers ran through his hair as one of his thick arms lifted your bottom off the floor and the other big hand moved to your waistband and pulled down, yanking them off you completely. His eyes were dark and hungry as he pushed your thighs wide apart, and he groaned, staring down at your exposed pussy. 

“There she is… fuck, Mouse. Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

He wasted no time and leaned down to get his face in you, but your foot came up to his shoulder and stopped him. 

“Little Bird.”

Your eyes were filled with a warning and your tone was quiet yet firm.

Frankie froze, with a confused smile on his face, and he huffed out, “Wh-Mouse, what?”

“Don’t call me Mouse. Little Bird or Birdie.”

His smile fell and he stared at you, as if he were unsure how to proceed. It was like he was trying to figure out how to maneuver through this and you were not just giving in.

“But… okay… sure, Mou-Birdie”, he said, astonished, nodding. His face softened again and he purred, “Baby Birdie… come on, lemme say sorry…”

His hand came up to your foot fixed against his collar bone and he turned and placed a kiss on your ankle before gently bringing it down. He lowered himself again, this time a little more apprehensively, making sure you weren’t going to stop him again. 

“Missed you and her-”, he growled lowly, his eyes darting down to the crux of your thighs then back up at you, “-so fuckin’ much”

He lowered his face further and inhaled. “God dammit, baby… smell so g-”

“Better than Natalie?”

Before you could stop, your sick, twisted sense of need for validation took over, forcing out the words from your mouth. 

Frankie groaned. “Nothing… nothing and no one compares to you…” He pressed his face into your cunt and licked up from your taint to your clit. 

You gasped his name, arching your back and rolling your hips, and one hand fisted his hair. His nose nudged your sensitive nub and his tongue licked and prodded your hole, all the while he groaned and grunted between laps. 

His hand came down on your stomach, pressing your spine flush with the floor, in a bid to try and gain the upper hand again, and his other moved to intertwine his fingers with the one not in his hair. 

No. That’s not what this is.

Your hand pulled away and moved to your breast, kneading it as he watched you; your eyes were either closed or looking at the ceiling as you laid back -  he couldn’t tell. He wanted so much for this to be the cast that healed the fracture…

“Mo-Birdie… baby…”, he huskily murmured, wanting, no, needing you to look at him.

Sitting up on your elbows, his wide eyes looked up, still blown out and dark but pleading. 

“Baby girl… come on… I’m trying to show you how sorry I am.” His voice was deep and low, and his words purred out. Frankie adjusted his face and kept his eyes on you as he pushed two fingers into you without warning and sucked on your clit. Your breathing hitched followed by a sigh as your lips parted. Every time his fingers pushed in, they hit that spot that he had memorized and dreamed about and refused to forget the sounds you made when he hit it. He needed you to fall apart, he needed you to see how sorry he was and see that he was the only man who could make you feel this good.

The whining moans that careened from your throat were pure music to him, and he sucked a little harder and purposely slowed down and emphasized each pump of his fingers a little harder. 

“Fr-yes… yes, right th- don’t stop… please Frankie, don’t stop!”

He hummed and pressed his hips into the carpet, trying to get some relief in his jeans for his throbbing cock. Your walls were fluttering and your hand was yanking his hair, pulling his face harder into your core; against his hand weighing down your middle, your hips rocked, fighting against him. 

Your vision started to fill with stars and just as you felt your release getting closer, he pulled back, eyes glaring at you. In your ecstasy, you’d called out the first name on your lips - and it wasn’t Frankie’s.

“You serious??”, he snarled as his large hand gripped your hip and yanked you towards him. “Ezra?! Are you fuckin’ kidding me??”

Your eyes were slightly glazed over and you stared up at him, the realization of what you’d said came to you and you wanted to laugh right in Frankie’s face. It was a slip but one that you thought was fitting, given how you ended up here and the way he was looking at you. But then the thought of Ezra flooded your mind, making your face fall sadly. 

Frankie misread your facial expression as one of remorse to him and his eyes softened, and he leaned forward and kissed you, muttering, “Suppose I deserved that…”, against your mouth. 

You kissed him back, needing respite from the melancholy the thought of Ezra was bringing down upon you, and one hand pulled him closer around the back of his neck while the other moved to his belt. The feeling of his soft middle made your cunt throb, pushing - momentarily - Ezra out of your mind. Frankie was heavier than when you’d broken up, and one thing that never changed was how his weight set you on fire. As you deftly unbuttoned his jeans with one hand, you gave yourself permission to enjoy his body before you set yourself on the path for atonement.

One of his hands came to help you push down his jeans and boxers, and his hard, angry cock sprang out. Your fingers gripped him, feeling his hot girth in your hand again, and god, it felt so good jerking him a few times. He grunted into your mouth and his weight pushed you back onto the floor, your mouths still attached, and he held his body over yours on one forearm above your shoulder. His other hand lined up his cock to your entrance and he hitched your leg up onto his hip. 

The slow, arduous pace at which he pushed in was both euphoric and maddening, like he was trying to punish you. But the familiar stretch blanked your mind and his mouth parted from yours, brows tented and he huffed out,  “God dammit! Baby… you’re so fuckin’- so tight… Been too long…”

It had been too long. Prior to this, the last time you had a dick in you was at least a month or so before you broke up; it was coming up on a year since then. No matter how angry you were with Frankie, there wasn’t a single hunk of silicone that could compare to his manhood - that you found anyway.

He seated himself deeply in you and you felt like you couldn’t take a full breath in. Your parted lips let out small gasps, puffing out against his mouth. He barely pulled out before he pushed back in, eliciting a gasping whine from you. His eyes trailed over your face taking in every twitch, flick, minute shift… 

He could feel every flutter of your canal, and it felt like home. All the love he’d been holding and letting fester and rot him from the inside out seemed to lessen as he watched you. 

“I’m so sorry, baby…”, he murmured, nudging his nose against yours, his hips finding a soft, deep rhythm.

You needed more. You needed hard. In this moment, you knew this wasn’t a reconnecting, this was a severing. 

“Frankie please-”, you breathily whined out, opening your eyes and looking right up at him. “Fuck, just fuck me!”

He watched you, feeling you squirm and writhe underneath him, and when your eyes met his, all he could think about is how you called out another man’s name when you came to him. He scowled, sitting up and pulling out. He gripped you hard and flipped you over like you were nothing, then grabbed your hips as he lined himself up again. 

“Fuck you, Mouse!”, he snarled angrily as he impaled you. 

“Fuck you, Frankie!”, you panted as he brutally slammed his cock into you over and over. “Fuck you!”

He let out a growl and grabbed your hair, yanking your head back and pulling your body flush with him. The hold he had you in was bordering on painful, but it was scratching that itch you hadn’t been able to reach in who knows how long. 

You needed a hatefuck. 

His hot breath came out in growls and bled over the side of your face and neck, and you could feel another orgasm building in you. 

“Yes! Yes, I’m- fuck, Frankie -”

He cut you off, jerking you in his hold as his hips slammed into you, and he snarled, “SHUT UP!”

You came, crying out and Frankie bit down on the crux of your shoulder and neck, growling and grunting as he fucked you though your orgasm. 

“Fuck you, Mouse!”

You cried out, trying to form the words to tell him that was not your name, but he shoved you back down to the floor, hand gripping your hair, and he would not let his brutal pace up. With every slam of his hips, he swore, cursed you, apologized…

“Fuck you - I am sorry! I-fuck!... fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It didn’t take much more to push you over the edge again and this time, Frankie fell with you, letting out a hiss followed by a groan as he filled you. Your arms gave out and Frankie laid his weight on top of you, both panting.

You laid like this on the living room floor for who knows how long, the only sound being the occasional car outside and your breathing. It was Frankie who spoke first, his voice far softer and sadder than you anticipated.

“Mouse, baby-”

“Birdie.”

You felt him sigh and he moved off you, helping you up and off the floor. You put your panties and leggings back on, feeling him ooze out of you. Once you were dressed, you looked up at him. 

“I think I finally got you out of my system.”

He didn’t argue or try to make you stay as you left. He just watched with a resigned sadness. 

That night you had no nightmares.

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[bullet-prooflove]

You're The Sun To Me: Mitch Keller x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dolphs-darling @watermeezer @queenslandlover-93 @redpool

Companion piece to:

Love Song - Mitch doesn't expect to see you in his bar after all this time.

Clean - Mitch asks you why you're back in town.

Home - Mitch gets an answer to his question.

Sunshine (NSFW) - You've always been the sunshine in Mitch's life.

Georgia Peach (NSFW) - You get a little territorial when one of Mitch's exes comes sniffing around.

Rhinestones (NSFW) - Mitch reminds you of the night you met.

Her Name Was Lola - You meet Mitch's wife.

On the rare freezing days in Tulsa, Mitch struggles. The cold seems to set into his bones and the agony from decades of bull riding seems to flood his entire system. His muscles stiffen and he moves like an old man, every single motion filled with a devastation that makes him hiss through his teeth. It’s times like this that remind him how he ended up hooked on Oxy. Shit like Tylenol doesn’t touch the pain, no matter how much he takes.

He forces himself through the day, every minute ticking by like an hour until you show up fresh off the tour you’ve been undertaking in Oklahoma City. Jelly Roll has been playing a few indie gigs and had invited you to open for him. The two of you had met during a country music showcase back when Mitch was doing time and stayed close friends even after Jason's career blew up.

When you step through the door you take one look at Mitch and you know exactly what’s going on with him, despite how much he tries to hide it. You set up a stool behind the bar, coercing him into it with a fierce look. He knows better than to argue with you when you get a bee in your bonnet, especially when you’re coming off a forty one hour drive.  

You spend most of the evening doing the lion’s share of the work. You let Mitch pour a couple of shots when you leave the bottle by him but everything else is on you. At the end of the night, he watches you lock up before you draw him into the makeshift bed you’ve set up in the back. The ride home is filled potholes and sharp turns, things that will shake up at his bones, cause him even more pain and you know he doesn’t have it in him to face that tonight.

He can’t help but smile when he gets into that room because his baby, she’s done wonders with the air mattress, blankets and hurricane lamps he keeps stored away in there.

“You know Sunny, this shit is kinda romantic like.” He says as you begin to unbutton his shirt. “It’s not candle light and roses but it’s certainly something.”

“Next time.” You promise him, your gaze meeting his as you unfasten his belt and help him out of his jeans. “I promise I’ll romance the fuck out of you.”

He laughs as you help him down into the bed, tucking as many blankets as you can around him against the cold outside. He reaches for you, brushing a stray strand of hair back behind your ear as he looks into your eyes.

“You always take such good care of me.” He whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your mouth.

“I always will.” You murmur before you pull away and begin to undress. He watches appreciatively as you do, the fabric slipping from your skin and landing in a heap at your feet. There isn’t a chance in hell he can get it up right now, not with his pain level but he can still admire the beauty that God bestowed upon him.

“Gonna have to be cuddling tonight darlin.” He tells you as you climb underneath the blankets alongside him. “I don’t have it in me to give you a proper welcome home.”

“Good.” You whisper as you nestle in close, the heat of your body warming his skin. “Because I’m far too exhausted to ride you tonight.”

He chuckles as you bury your face into the curve of his throat, your fingertips tracing over the scars etched into his flesh from all those years of bull riding.

“Sunny…” He drawls as he closes his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the ache that seems to radiate through his entire body. “Will you sing me to sleep darlin? I’ve been missing the sound of your voice.”

You start to hum and he recognises the opening bars from Zach Bryan’s You’re The Sun To Me.

“You’re trying to make me fall in love with you all over again ain’t you sweetheart?” He mumbles as his cheek comes to rest upon the top of your head.

“Oh Mitch.” You whisper, tiling your head up so your lips brush over his grizzled jaw. “There ain’t no trying about it.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[goatcheesecak3]

I hate you too Pt.3

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x reader

Warnings: alcohol, brief mentions of nsfw

Fic type: angst, fluff

Summary: both trying to wrap your heads around the situation, you and Adam each reach out to your friends.

A/n: hello!! Probably the last part to this short series, I've had fun writing it though! Maybe I'll try a Lawrence fic next??? Who knows. Anyways, enjoy! :^)

Your heart sank. What the hell kind of sick game was Adam playing with you? Hooking up was one thing, but you'd both poured your hearts out to eachother, you though you had a real connection. You wiped tears from your eyes and gritted your teeth in anger. You needed a friend, a distraction. You called Mark.

"H- hey Mark" you spoke into the phone, sniffling a little and hoping it didn't sound like you'd been crying.

"What's up, y/n?" His voice sounded cheery.

"Look, I don't wanna put you on the spot or anything, man, but I uh... I'm having kinda a bad day, I was wondering if I could come over?"

"Hey, you know you're welcome anytime. Scott's coming over later to watch this lame slasher movie I picked up, it's gonna be a hoot. You should join us!"

His kindness was so jarring I'm contrast to the cold, unfeeling text you'd just recieved from Adam. It almost made you tear up again, but you held it together long enough to set a time, before hanging the phone up.

You made yourself a rather exquisite breakfast consisting of a cigarette, a beer, and several more cigarettes. Following this, you drifted in and out of sleep on the couch while watching episodes of beavis and butthead, and trying your hardest not to think about Adam.

When 6pm rolled around, you finally got yourself dressed and headed out to Mark's apartment.

...

After sending you that awful text, Adam had fallen asleep for a few hours. When he awoke, it was the evening. Despite a full day's rest, he didn't feel any better, in fact, he felt much worse. He knew he'd fucked up, he'd let himself step too far and now he was pretty sure your entire friendship was out the window, let alone any chance at a relationship. He knew deep down this was for the best, or at least he thought so? His head was swimming and he really couldn't make much sense of the whole situation. He had to bite the bullet, and call in for reinforcements in the form of his friend Scott. Adam knew full well that revealing the events that had transpired to Scott would come with a barrage of jokes and teasing, but at the end of it all, Scott was his friend and he'd help him make sense of it all.

...

"Yeah, I can meet you bro. I'm going to Mark's to watch this lame movie, I'll come pick you up and we can talk on the way. We're long overdue for a guy's night"

"Thanks, Man. Yeah, a guy's night sounds good"

Adam was beyond relieved that it would just be the three of them, he couldn't bear to face you right now.

At half six, Scott's beat up old Ford pulled up outside Adam's building, to find him already waiting on the curb, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

"You got one of them for me?" Scott grinned as Adam climbed in.

"Always" Adam obliged, handing Scott a cigarette.

"So," Scott pulled off with a screech, "What did you wanna talk about?"

"It's about y/n"

"What, you hittin that or something?" Scott teased.

Adam's unexpected silence answered that question, as he shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"No. Way. No fuckin WAY dude. Mark totally owes me 50 bucks" Scott gave Adam an affectionate punch in the arm, briefly averting his gaze from the road to see what he expected to be a smug grin plastered across Adam's face. Instead, however, Adam's face told a story of guilt and confliction.

"What? You didn't her pregnant did you?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Nah man, nothing like that. It's just... ugh, I don't know, I think I like her? But like, I'd just break her heart if I went there" Adam stared straight ahead as he spoke.

"You don't know that, man just tell her how you feel. At the very least you'll get to see her naked a couple more times before you completely fuck it up." It seemed that Scott possessed the incredible ability to never take anything seriously.

"Yeah... I don't think i can do that. Like, I think I've pretty much nailed that coffin shut"

"Well you certainly nailed something," Scott held out his fist to Adam and grinned to himself.

"Dude, I'm serious"

"So am I! Dude, emotional bullshit aside, y/n's a fuckin smokeshow, and I'm proud of my boy for his achievements"

Adam bit the insides of his cheeks, but couldn't help the smile from creeping across his face. He knew the whole macho bullshit thing was gross and childish, but admittedly, he was kinda proud of himself for sleeping with you. He bumped Scott's fist.

"There he is" Scott chuckled, "so, now that we've got all this acting like a pussy out the way, you're gonna pick up your phone, call y/n and tell her 'I'll be at your place later with condoms and viagra, chug a couple energy drinks 'cause we're gonna go all night'" he joked.

"You know, I think that approach might be a little full on" Adam laughed. "But you're right, I gotta stop being a little bitch about this and tell her how I feel"

"Awesome. Me and Mark can help you plan how you're gonna do it tonight, but you owe us another guy's night if we do"

"How come?"

"Because you're totally acting like a chick"

"Shut up, man. You're an asshole, you know that?"

...

You'd been at Mark's apartment for a little while already, drinking beer and waiting for Scott to arrive.

"Does he know I'm gonna be here?" You asked casually

"You know, totally slipped my mind to tell him. Hell be here any minute, so I guess he'll find out when he arrives" Mark smiled.

As if to punctuate that sentence, the unmistakable sound of Scott's loud footsteps approached the apartment door, followed by a hefty knock.

Mark opened the door, to see both Scott and Adam waiting.

"Oh hey! Guess the whole gang's here" Mark smiled.

The two men entered the apartment, Adam's expression slowly turning to one of dread when he saw you sat on the couch.

"What the hell is he doing here?!"

"What the hell is she doing here?!" The pair of you exclaimed at the same time.

"Oh come on, not this again. Guys, just sit down, relax, have a few beers. I'm too tired to watch you two fight all night" Mark rolled his eyes.

"Won't be necessary" you said coldly, rising to your feet and attempting to barge your way past the men and out of the apartment.

"Ohhhh I don't think so, little lady" Scott scoffed, blocking your exit.

"Scott, I'm warning you, you know I could kick your ass" you bit.

"Be that as it may, you and Adam got a lot to talk about. Now Mark and I are gonna leave for a while, give you two some privacy, and you're gonna solve this" Scott said. Seeing Scott be the voice of reason was like seeing a unicorn, you couldn't believe your eyes.

"Why should I leave? This is my apartment?" Mark argued as Scott ushered him out

"Because you're gonna head down to the ATM and withdraw that 50 bucks you owe me"

"What?" The realisation set in and he turned to face you and Adam, "you two? No WAY!"

"Have funnnnn" Scott mocked in a sing-song voice as he guided a gobsmacked Mark out of the apartment, closing the door behind them on their way out.

The apartment was silent now, you and Adam both stood, stunned, staring blankly at eachother. You would have kept this stand off going on forever, if you weren't so drained. You threw yourself down onto the couch and sighed exasperatedly.

"This is so fucking humiliating" you muttered under your breath.

Adam sat beside you. You held your head in your hands, eyes glued to the floor, but you could feel Adam's gaze burning into you.

"Y/n, I-"

"No, it's fine, like I get it. Last night was a mistake, it didn't mean anything. You don't have to tell me again." You snapped, not wanting to relive the heartbreak.

Adam exhaled

"I didn't mean that" he said quietly, his voice sounding shameful.

Suddenly, something inside you snapped. You were furious, he'd completely devasted you, and now he'd changed his mind?

"Then what the fuck do you mean?!" You blurted angrily, "you hate me one minute, you like me the next. What the actual fuck is your problem, Adam? What is it you want? Because in case you hadn't realised, you've given me some pretty mixed signals in the last 24 hours!"

"I want you!" He yelled "I mean.. I want to be able to want you" his voice was soft, gentle even.

Yours was not.

"Oh my fucking GOD. Do you only talk in riddles or something? What next, do I need to solve a fucking treasure hunt to find your missing brain?!"

"Y/n, no, please just listen.. okay? I just- man I thought I'd have time to plan this" he exclaimed to himself, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Look, if I don't get a straight answer in the next five minutes I'm walking out that door" you said, calmer now.

"Okay.. okay.." Adam breathed slowly, he seemed to be trying to find the words.

"Look," he began, "I'm in the weirdest place emotionally right now, I've always struggled with being vulnerable, but I mean, I'm so much worse these days. Ever since... well, you know..." he bit the inside of his lip and looked ahead, his eyes filled with sadness.

"I'm still trying to get myself back, and I don't know if the part of me that can let people in is ready.

If I let you in right now, I'm scared that I'll only hurt you further down the line, and I could never ask you to just wait around for me to get better."

He stared at the floor and sighed, feeling quite sorry for himself.

You considered what he had said for a moment, before finally speaking, much gentler this time.

"So get better now"

"What? Y/n, it's mot that simple"

"Yes, Adam, it is that simple" you said, your tone kind, but firm. "You say you're trying to get better at letting people in, and in the last 24 hours you've been more emotionally honest with your arch nemesis than you would ever imagine. Sure, it doesn't exactly scream stability, but that's part of the process. You're making progress" you took Adam's hand and brushed your thumb across his skin reassuringly.

"It's not gonna be easy, but if you don't take this chance and let me in then you're not moving forward".

Adam let out a half hearted chuckle, and wiped a few tears he hoped you hadn't seen from his eyes.

"I hate the fact that you're always right"

"Get used to it" you smiled warmly, giving him a playful nudge.

"Okay... so in the spirit of moving forward" he gulped, "would you uhh... be free for date sometime?"

He smiled sheepishly, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket. You noticed that his eyes seemed to look extra sparkly, as if there was hope and excitement in them for the first time in a while.

"I'm free right now" you giggled, placing your hand on Adam's cheek and leaning in to kiss him.

Adam's hands held onto your waist as he leaned into the kiss, gradually pushing you back onto the sofa. He kissed you deeper now, more hungrily, his fingertips were just brimming the hem of your shirt, when...

"Aaaand the two of you can go continue that "date" literally anywhere but my sofa" Mark exclaimed, bursting into the apartment, Scott following giggling like a schoolboy.

"Were you assholes listening through the door?!" You squealed, jumping up and adjusting your shirt.

"Hey, I didn't wanna, but Mark needed proof that he lost the bet!" Scott laughed, barely able to contain himself.

"Dude! Come on, that was priv- wait.. what bet?" You asked, more curious than annoyed by this point.

"I bet Mark that you and Adam secretly liked eachother, and now I'm 50 bucks richer" Scott said proudly.

"Never would've imagined you guys together" Mark admitted, "but you know what, I like this little dynamic. It's sweet, or at least it is when you're not tryna bang on my couch" he teased.

"Sorry about that, man" Adam chuckled, his cheeks reddening.

"Now, come on you crazy kids," Scott said, in a slightly patronising, but good natured tone, "get your asses down to some restaurant or something where you can sit and make googly eyes at eachother before me and Mark throw up"

...

You and Adam walked down the street after leaving Mark's apartment. Your hands brushed against eachother, and without words they were interlinked. Just to think, a couple days ago you would have thrown up at the thought of holding Adam's hand, but now it was all you wanted to do.

"So... a restaurant, huh?" Adam said, swinging your arms slightly.

"Hm" you tilted your head, "orrrrr... we could head back to mine, crack open a bottle of wine on the balcony... maybe fool around a little?" You looked at Adam with a cheeky grin.

"God, you just get me" Adam laughed, placing his free hand on your waist and planting a soft kiss onto your lips.

And it was indeed, a perfect date.

[spuffybaby]

Time to Heal (7)

chapter links: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

“Spike?”

He'd been almost awake already, but it was Dawn shouting from downstairs that really dragged him up from his half-sleep, blinking a few times before realising the thick curtains were drawn despite the light outside. He was still getting used to sleeping at night again. Buffy had gotten up, but he heard footsteps downstairs, figuring she wasn't far.

“Spike!”

He pushed the covers aside and slid into his boots before making his way down the stairs, now slightly concerned. “Niblet?”

“There you are,” she said as she walked past, giving him a quick glance, then shoving a pile of books into her backpack, had him recognise the back of the one he'd read a couple of nights before.

“Somethin' wrong?”

“Oh, no. Buffy just told me to check if you were awake,” she shrugged. “She's in the kitchen.”

Spike sighed. “Nice. Ever so gentle, aren't you?”

She gave him a bittersweet smile. “See ya.”

“Have a good day,” he mumbled before heading to the kitchen. Buffy's shirt had ridden up to expose her lower back as she was reaching for something on the top shelf of the cupboard and he couldn't resist, crossing the kitchen and placing his palm on her bare skin just above her jeans, his other hand reaching and grabbing the box of cereal she hadn't been able to get.

Buffy had heard him, though been unprepared for the sudden closeness, nonetheless relaxing into his touch as she sank back onto her feet and turned into him to face him. “I would've got it,” she mumbled, blinking, she looked up and was met with his gaze instantly, the intensity weakening her.

“I got you,” he smirked, placing the box on the counter top to have his hand free and brush her hair from her forehead.

“U-Um-” The mischief in his eyes reminded her so much of a version of him that was long gone, but she couldn't help but be fond of what remained, the spark now playful, soft. Before she managed to form a coherent sentence, or word even, he'd dipped his head to kiss her and she wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively, once again on her tiptoes, kissing him back with equally as much need, wondering more with every passing second if she really could resist him and take things slow. Where she'd felt drawn to him and the harsh distraction he'd offered her beyond control before he'd got his soul, it was nothing to how she felt now. She'd allowed herself to be in love with him and admit it, and it meant there was nothing holding her back. Apart from wanting to do things right, and accepting that he did, too. Though the way he kissed her, similarly to how he had the night before, it didn't suggest any control. At least not over himself. Of her, he was in full control, making her whine softly as her lips parted for him and she welcomed the taste of him. “Oh, god...”

He chuckled, his fingers brushing through her hair as he drew back just slightly to let her catch her breath. “Good morning.”

Buffy laughed shakily, not having quite regained control of her breathing. “You're not making this easy,” she mumbled.

“Me?” He stepped back, tutting. “What about those jeans, pet?” Opening the fridge, he took out one of the bags of blood, ripping it open with his teeth, then pouring it into one of the clean mugs by the sink.

“What about them?” Buffy pouted innocently.

Spike turned to look over his shoulder. “You know what you're doin'. I mean, I'm guessing we've both not had any since-”

“Us?” She shook her head. “No.”

He gave her a small smile. “Well, who can blame us then, eh? Pretty much a part of... us.”

It was Spike, and the way he smiled without taking his eyes off hers made her more nervous than it ever had before. He may have believed he didn't deserve her, or found it hard to trust her when she said she loved him, but he knew he was irresistible. “So, where does that leave us?”

His smile turned into a larger grin. “Oh, I don't know,” he teased, taking a sip from his mug and quickly licking his lips, savouring the taste. He knew she was struggling to compose herself, but he knew he wasn't safe either, that she could flip things around on him any second. And win. “Anything you'd like me to do, pet?” He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving hers, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively.

They both jumped when the telephone started ringing.

“Good god,” she muttered, taking a shaky breath before turning and picking up the receiver.

Spike watched her, heard few words from her, finishing his blood, then taking a bowl and some milk out for her breakfast.

“Okay. Bye. See you soon.”

“Who was that?” he asked, hoping it didn't matter, hoping she'd have her breakfast, then decide she wanted him for dessert. Christ, he wanted her. Thinking she'd asked him if he did seemed mad to him.

“Giles. I've been meaning to go and teach some of the new Slayers, well, those that are not so new now and ready to advance. I'm supposed to leave today.”

He nodded slowly. “Right,” he said. “How long will you be gone?”

“It shouldn't be for more than a week or so,” she said, balancing the ratio of cereal and milk before starting to eat. “But...” She swallowed. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me and help. They can learn from both our fighting styles. You know, like... old times. That's why I asked Dawn to make sure you were up.”

“So this is... the Council?”

She batted her lashes at him.

“Buffy.”

“Yes,” she caved. “But with Giles there and them owing me and you, most of all, it'll be alright. You're a hero and don't you forget it.”

“That's not how any of those suits are gonna see it, is it?”

“If they don't, they can try and find another Slayer to teach them my flawless methods.” She smiled triumphantly when she caught the corner of his mouth twitch.

“You know I'll go for one reason only.”

She leaned forward over the kitchen island. “Yeah,” she grinned. “To watch me fight in these jeans. I've got a nice leather set lined up too. And don't even get me started on what's underneath.”

“Fighting in your knickers?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just you.”

“Pet...” He warned. “Dangerous territory.”

She flashed him another grin, then moved her empty bowl to the side to push herself up onto the kitchen island on her knees to meet him.

With one swift move, he'd pulled her forward, her legs dangling from the edge on either side of his body as he closed the space between them, keeping her there with just the lust in his eyes. Things seemed so simple, maybe they didn't need to be slow. Maybe they together were what made it right.

“So when have we got to go?” he asked, his voice merely a hint, his forehead pressed to hers.

“Like right now?” she confessed. “I was just waiting for that call.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, his jaw tensing. “And you thought you'd get me all worked up for the occasion?”

She looked back at him guiltily. “Gotta give you something to look forward to, baby.”

[sammyvhs]

home : 1.09 pt1 — jess’s sister.

You’re not stupid. At least you hope not. You pray you’re not. You knock on their motel door a little less sure of the fact, maybe it’ll increase in confidence when you see them.

It doesn’t. The second your eyes lock with Sam’s half-asleep ones you’re positive your breath hitches just enough that your heart stops beating momentarily. His messy hair, his exhausted expression, the dark bags under his eyes even him still wearing jeans and a shirt.

“Hey, you came.” You nod and lean into the hug he pulls you in for. His cologne is palpable, the same one he used to wear in Stanford and it’s comforting for you to know he hasnt thrown the bottle away.

“I came.” You whisper, letting go and stepping inside when he moves to let you in. Dean’s on a bed, looks like he’s sleeping peacefully. You wish you could too but everytime you close your eyes your sister is on the ceiling. Sometimes she’s calling out for you to help. Other times she’s telling you that you’re the reason she’s gone. Your carelessness. You didn’t lock the doors. The windows, you were fast, you didn’t hear anything, you—

“You okay?” Sam pulls you away from the dark thoughts and you nod. “Okay well, Dean’s asleep and I don’t think we’ll talk much right now, you can catch a few hours.” you nod at the offer, thanking him quietly. You're still in jeans yourself but you don't mind since you're not sure you’ll be sleeping. 

“I’ll take the couch.” he stares at you like you just said bruised his ego then shakes his head. “Sam, im serious, i dont sleep—”

“Vampire?” he jokes half heartedly and you smile.

“I just mean i usually take power naps. Please, sam, just take the bed.” he ends up pulling you on it next to him and you’re not sure why for the first time in months you fall asleep with no nightmares.

Sam doesnt. Sam wakes up suddenly, forcing you out of your sleep, to a nightmare. You’re shuddering thinking of the fact that you felt that safe in your dead sister’s boyfriend’s arms.

You pretend you’re asleep until sam’s breath gets softer and peel yourself off the bed and to the couch. Theres not much to do at four in the morning so you read, you snoop around for a bit, wonder how much sam would hate you if you opened his bag, and eventually take another nap on the couch. 

Still no nightmare, you wake up to the sound of Dean’s boots tapping against on the floor. You quickly sit up a little, taking in your surroundings.

“‘Morning, sweetheart.” your lips apart, sure you're going to respond like a normal human with ‘good morning’ but it doesn’t come, you just nod. “Want coffee?” only then do you notice the two paper cups in his hand.

“Sure, thanks, Dean.”

“Didn’t know what you liked so i got it cream and sugar.”

“It’s good, that’s how i usually take it.” totally not true, you actually take it with milk but you’re not sure you’re staying long enough for him to have to know that. He smiles at you, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “I’m sorry for showing up so suddenly, Dean.” you mumble before trying the coffee. It’s not bad, not your usual taste but definitely still enjoyable.

“‘S no problem, you’re always welcome with us, i gave you my number so you could call me at anytime.” you can’t be held responsible for any of the fluttery feelings in your stomach after that. 

“I guess… i felt like i was slipping, you know? My parents— me and jess never talked to them and they didn’t even call me when she died, i literally had no one, as pathetic as it sounds. Our dad’s side hates us, my mum’s side is on the opposite side of the world and they’ve been calling me but it’s not the same. Its not fair to do this to you two but i dont now what else to do, i just wish someone would tell me.” you're not certain when the first tear started flowing but your thankful its the only one.

“Hey, we’re here for you. Always.” Somehow, you don’t believe it.

[traumatise]

oh. she's sure the surprise flickers right across her face, visible for him, and she should be masking it better, but she just doesn't expect it. his earnestness. the gratitude. it's nothing she ever expected to get out of damon salvatore—nothing about tonight is, now that she thinks about it, except for maybe all the warning signs and red flags behind the ominous creek of her bed and the unruly state of her bedroom. but if she recognizes that or thinks about it beyond anything further than an unusual whisper in the back of her mind, she really will kill him, and there's something too close to a truce keeping the peace here. for now.

"you're welcome for this." it's the comfort of the night or a sign of her sharp turn down the road to insanity that prompts her to reach out again, flick him in the ribs one, two, three times before he catches her hand to stop her. "this is the closest to tolerable i think you've ever been, so it's a slumber party for the record books, anyway." narrows her eyes, though, when she goes to tug her hand back and he pulls in turn, testing his limits just a little; but he does think better of it, smart guy, and lets her go before she decides to burst any of his blood vessels. she rewards him with a smile, a roll of her eyes, and a reminder: "and you already owe me a thousand times over, with all the ways you've interfered with or actively ruined my life."

again, not that he ever noticed. as they sort of established, it's all about elena with him, which means it's actually all about katherine, which means it's actually all about whatever's so deeply damaged in him that he still feels the need to cling to a toxic love from a century ago. he's addiction-prone, maybe. bad relationship with his family, definitely. starved of affection, clearly. the case study she never wanted, but he's the one she got, somehow. where's the customer service number for returns and exchanges, again?

"now stop being weird about stuff and let me get some sleep. you'll need all the rest you can get, too, so we stand half a chance at getting somewhere on this klaus thing." which is the whole point of this bizarre alliance, need they not forget. she grabs her pillow, fluffs it a little, collapses onto it. twists over onto her other side when she realizes that going to sleep with him looking at her is not going to work. "if you even think about spooning me," she thinks to add, "you're going straight to the couch." a wave of her hand shuts the lights off, conversation over. his chuckle is a breath against the back of her neck, a reminder that her instincts never fail her.

she kicks her heel back against his shin and leaves it there, though, and she thinks that's more than enough compromise for two people who kind of hate each other.

There's a lot they're not saying, that much is clear, but it doesn't feel like they have to. Because she's right. He does know her, and doesn't see anything of his current self in there, but the aspiration of what a past version could have tried to live up to. Somewhere. Whatever fragments of selflessness he's held onto have always come with a price someone else had to pay. The more lonely he's become the less of that he's taken on, until the full cost fell on whoever he claims he was helping in the first place. Prime example: Bonnie's life for Elena's. He's never thought twice. Neither has Bonnie. How similar were those motivations, really, when at the core of it, Damon's the only one to benefit? He could count on one - well, likely less than one - hand the number of people he's truly been good to, no personal gain to be had. That number dwindles when he thinks of who it's lasted with. Stefan may be the only left he could make a weak argument for, but Damon still managed to screw that one up pretty spectacularly. It just doesn't end.

"If I squint," he echoes, a half hearted agreement, then with more confidence, "You're a lot better at it than I am." Feels like he should warn her maybe, that love does destroy a person, and it's a dangerous edge to teeter on, but what does he know? It's habitual now, running from whatever burns him. Running back if it hurts bad enough. But that might just be Damon, and his chronic inability to face any problem he can't kill, snark, or bleed away. Bonnie just takes it all and then some, and if it's crippling in any capacity she doesn't let it show. And he's .. jealous of that, in a sick sort of way, when he knows he wouldn't have half the composure but would appreciate the faith. Even when - on the very rare occasion - she's failed, no one's given up on her. Why would they? It's Bonnie, perpetual good man in a storm. Damon fails and it's expected; feels like a set up to prove he's only good for making things worse. Maybe he leans into that too much to change, but it would be nice, he thinks, to be counted on to do the right thing. To shake the court of public opinion just that little bit. Can't be that worth it, though, if Bonnie's not gotten away totally unscathed. She said so herself, that she's lonely, too, all the way on that other side of the spectrum. Damon doesn't know if that's better or worse. Maybe it is the same.

He stretches out, wringing all those thoughts out along with him, until his back cracks and the bed makes some horrible squeaking noise from the splintered pallets beneath the mattress. Pauses to listen for any damage he forgot about, then settles into position again when he's satisfied. It's not that bad. Not something he feels like answering for right this minute, though. "Thanks for this." There's a sincerity that might shock both of them, actually, and while most things he says are to get a reaction this is genuine truth. "The platonic physical touch thing," emphasis for her benefit, "Letting me be .. weird about stuff. Not barbecuing my brain on sight. Means a lot." More than he can appropriately express, unfortunately, and because he doesn't trust himself even in this vaguely vulnerable position, has to add a joke of some sort. "You tell anyone about this I might have to kill you. Or, you'll have to kill me. Let me out of here with some dignity. I'll ... I owe you one." Or two or twenty, she can add it to his tab.

[sunshinebingo]

Gwynriel - 600 words - Just fluff

Inspired by the picture used in the title card, and a conversation with some friends on discord. I wish I remembered who was in that discussion so I could tag them specifically. Sorry guys 🥺

"It was a beautiful mystery, she thought as she gazed at him, how some people came together as intuitively as the laws of nature. Were such people born already belonging to each other, or..."

Gwyn pauses. She lifts the hand that isn't holding her book to cover her mouth as a yawn break from her lips. She turns the page and continues to read aloud, her hand going back to playing with the silky hair of the male who is holding one of her legs hostage.

"...or was it some gods who, after much observation, placed them on the same path? She had never truly unders..."

Her voice starts to come out a little slurred. Her eyelids droop. The words on the page start to merge, the c blending into the e, the same e that looks no different from an a. She yawns again.

Gwyn picks up the blue ribbon she uses as a bookmark from her lap and places it in between the pages before closing the book.

Her arms rise above her head as she stretches her body to get rid of the stiffness that has settled in after hours of sitting on this couch.

Azriel grumbles. He hugs her left leg tighter, preventing Gwyn from straightening it properly. She huffs and brings both of her hands to his head to push him away. But all pretence of annoyance is erased from her face when she looks down at him.

Gwyn can't stop herself from smiling at the sight of one of the scariest looking and broodiest male that she has ever known holding onto her leg like a child would their comfort blanket. His large body is turned on his side with one of his feet dangling off the end of the couch. His bare chest rises and fall with each slow breath he takes. There is a slight furrow to his brows, no doubt from Gwyn having apparently so rudely dared to interrupt his sleep.

She brushes away the few curls of his obsidian hair that have fallen on his forehead. The sound that rumbles out of him when her nails gently scrapes along his scalp is akin to the purr of a contented cat. Gwyn's whole body shake from her giggle despite her attempt to stifle it. Azriel grumbles again and tightens his hold on her. Any tighter and he will cut off the blood circulation in this leg.

"Can I move?" she asks with a light tug on his hair.

"No," Azriel mumbles, his deep voice barely audible. "You're stuck with me."

He nuzzles his face against her leg. One of his hands glides higher and stops at the seam of her sleeping shorts where his thumb starts caressing her skin.

She shakes her head. Of course she is stuck with him. She smiles. But there is no one else she would rather be stuck with.

Very slowly so as not to awake the grumbling sleeping beauty, she slides herself lower on the couch until she is mostly lying down and she can place her head on the armrest. She adjusts the few cushions she can reach beneath her head and at her sides. Gwyn sighs when she finally manages to get somewhat comfortable.

Unable to properly kiss him goodnight, she kisses her own fingers instead and lightly slaps them on the small part of his face that isn't buried between her leg and the cushion beneath it.

She picks her book back up and opens it again, intent on reading incomprehensible words until they put her to sleep. Her other hand returns to its rightful place in Azriel's hair. Tomorrow she will need to find a way to remind him that he is also stuck with her. She hopes that eternity won't be too much for him.

[slowestlap]

After parting with Bradley Scanes following four years together at Red Bull, Verstappen is now working with Rupert Manwaring, who had been Carlos Sainz’s long-serving trainer. Sainz and Manwaring started working together eight years ago when Sainz was at Toro Rosso (now RB).

“We had an exceptional time together,” said Sainz. “We felt it was time to move on. Our lives were becoming different, and him living in the UK and me being more in Italy and Spain, I felt like it was time to change paths. I’m sure Max is going to enjoy the time with him.” Verstappen said it had been “nice” working with Manwaring given his F1 experience, saying he “knows what is needed.”

Verstappen noted managing sickness as being particularly important, as illness becomes inevitable with so much traveling throughout a season. Last year in Saudi Arabia, he came down with a bug that made Red Bull question whether he’d be fit for the race weekend. He only missed media day in the end.

“Everyone gets sick once a year at least,” Verstappen said. “You really try to minimize that, you try to be on top of things, and you know that when you go to certain countries, you know what you have to do to be careful not to be sick or whatever. Jet lag, traveling, it’s really about being well-rested.”

Even at 26, Verstappen is already implementing changes in his approach. “It may sound a bit weird, but I’m not 18 anymore,” Verstappen said. “At 18, you can do whatever you want, even the day before (the race)! Slowly, that is changing as well. I already start feeling that. But I’m sure we’ll come up with good plans on what to do.”

[...]

Verstappen, the overwhelming favorite to win a fourth title in 2024 and, one presumes, the majority of the 24 races, said he wanted to “make it as fun as possible” between races and find downtime away from his duties.

“Twenty-four races is a lot, and not only just the race weekend itself,” Verstappen said. “When we get back, there’s a lot of commitments. You have to get back to the factory as well to prepare with sim days, which almost takes a month as well in your schedule already alone.

“(I’m) just trying to make the best of it. Everyone knows I’m not a fan of it. But I don’t decide the calendar.”

How F1 drivers and teams are preparing for 24 races in 2024, the longest-ever season | Luke Smith, the Athletic | 26 February 2024

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

do you ever just sit there thinking about your favorite ocs while violently shaking. god. clenches fist. They're So.

[hayleystudio]

You shut up. You're weird. I was in a relationship for 10 years, I know what some men are like. Need I remind you that you weren't exactly Glens biggest fan when I first started dating him - even though he's always been nothing but a gentleman. How the times have changed. Me getting older defs has something to do with it, though. I know what I want in life and Glen is giving me all of that. Someone I can be myself around - both in the happy and sad moments. I'm not ashamed of feeling any emotion that I want to with him. You're a mom? Shit. Welcome to the club. Sometimes I feel like I'm a woman in her 60s. I've got an old body. For a few months I'm going to have two kids under one. Hopefully Lunas sleep doesn't get too interrupted by the new babies crying and stuff. You're meant to lie to me, Chris. At least just a little bit. If you had of told me then I would have backed off a little. Sorry for putting you through all that. I shouldn't of taken advantage of you like that.

Shut up. You're weird. Fine, but just know that you're the weird one. I was married for ten years, trust me I know that's exactly what some woman are like. I'm just glad to see that you finally picked a good guy, you seem to just be attracted to walking red flags. Maybe it's your age, you've gotten older and so you've decided that the good guys are worth it. I know what you mean, I never thought I'd be a mum either yet here I am. But, I think we all go through that. You are still young though, so I don't know why you're acting like you're a childless woman in her 50s. You're going to have two kids under two, it's rough. No more sleep or personal space or relaxation for you. No you were that bad, I'm sorry, but you know I would never lie to you. How could I not be there? I could see you were scared and I wasn't going to leave you alone. Even if it meant a lot of back and forth, I'd do it again in a heartbeat if you didn't have Glen.