#sorry my brain is being awful there might be more of these coming

[edge-oftheworld]

'got me running from the daylight' -> 'romanticise a dark city, you can't find the light in the sun'

every time i try to study i end up distracted by lyric parallels that relate to my work

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[honeylations]

KIM MINJEONG x FEM!READER

Prompt: your usually shy girlfriend wants to ask you to help her but your bad mood scares her off

Warnings/Notes: g!p Minjeong, subby Minjeong, riding, squirting, creampie, handjobs, blow jobs

���H-Hah I’m s-so close…N-Need to cum..” Minjeong growled, stroking her cock faster and shutting her eyes tight when she could feel herself going to the edge.

She wished you were there stroking her instead. Kissing her until she made a mess on your hand.

She needed you.

“Oh my god just fucking kill me, will you!?”

“Wah!” Poor Minjeong jumped from the couch at your sudden dramatic entrance and how the slamming of the door pretty much shook the entire apartment.

You were too pent up with your rant that you didn’t see your girlfriend rushing to pull up her boxers and pants with a red face.

“What’s with the manager being up my ass all the fucking time?! I’m only one person and it’s not my fault other people in my damn group don’t even make up one brain cell! NOT EVEN ONE!”

Minjeong stood in between the gap that separated the living room and kitchen, watching you slam your purse on the counter and pacing back and forth.

Profanity after profanity left your lips and Minjeong could see the steam coming from your ears. Your girlfriend fiddled with the sleeves of her hoodie and cleared her throat to try and get your attention.

“H-Hi babe”

“Ugh and I don’t even get paid extra for doing most of that shitty work! I might as well quit on the spot and see him cry!”

Minjeong sealed her lips and couldn’t ignore the pain in her dick, begging to be touched.

You finished your rant with a click of your tongue and saw your girlfriend standing there in fear. “Shit, I’m sorry Jeongie. I didn’t mean to scream around like that, I’m just really over my shift today”

“It’s okay, babe. Wanna sit down and talk about it?”

Aw your baby was such a sweetheart.

“No no, we can do that later. I think a nap will fix it all”

Minjeong smiled and took your hand to lead you to your shared bedroom. Being in a relationship for so long, you two always slept half naked. You being in your panties and Jeongie in her boxers.

Something about the skin to skin contact was just so comforting.

Only issue is, Minjeong’s boner was still rock hard and you managed to miss it even when you finally got under the covers with her.

But your girlfriend wouldn’t let you cuddle.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You questioned, making her even more nervous.

“Uh it’s nothing, really..”

“Puppy, whatever it is, spill it right now” You practically ordered, eyebrow twitching.

Minjeong huffed. “ihaveabonerandineedyoutohelpmecum”

“Huh?”

Minjeong spun on her other side away from you and hugged the blanket over her head. “Haha nothing never mind! time to sleep goodnight I love you!”

Ripping the covers off your girlfriend, you made her lie on her back while you sat on her stomach. “Stop shying away pup. Tell me what you want”

“I’m gonna go get a drink of water—WAH!” Minjeong yelped at her wrists being pinned on each side of her head.

“Say it”

Your girlfriend’s pout almost made you fold but you clenched your jaw to not give in so easily.

“M-My dick is…uh very hard..”

“Uh huh…”

“A-And I n-need you to help me..cum”

You kissed her lips and smiled. “Now was that so hard?”

“Well yes! You stormed into the apartment like a mad woman!”

Now it was your turn to pout and huff. “I said I was sorry!”

Your girlfriend looked away. “You seemed really tired too so I didn’t want to bother—“

Kiss

Minjeong went redder at your sudden move. “H-Hey!”

“Don’t you ever believe you’d bother me, okay pup?”

“Yes ma’am”

“Good. Now let me suck your dick”

Minjeong couldn’t even answer since you already yanked her pants and boxers off to start playing with her dick. She watched you with parted lips, panting at the sight of your small hands working itself up and down.

“You alright there, puppy?” You smiled into her neck as her head hung back in pleasure.

“Better than alright”

You kissed her slowly and got your tongue exploring Minjeong’s mouth which she moaned into. She would pause for a moment to watch you jerk her off faster, losing the strength to keep her eyes open.

“C-Can you please suck me off, baby? Pretty please” she whimpered while looking so deep into your eyes, you were able to see Minjeong well up tears.

“Of course, my love”

You lowered your head down and quickly sucked at your girlfriend’s leaking tip before taking her entirely inside. Her hands found comfort on your head that began to move, being one of the lucky people to not have a gag reflex.

You were able to deepthroat her so easily without a problem and Minjeong was in heaven every single time.

“Fuck. Oh fuck, Y/n-ie”

The vibration from your hum triggered your girlfriend’s hips to thrust, shocking her immediately. “N-No I’m sorry! A-Are you okay?”

Keeping her cock deep inside your throat, you gently caressed her hands on your head and she took it as the green light to do as she pleases.

Minjeong relaxes more and resumed her hip movement, tucking your hair behind your ears as she hissed out profanities.

“So so fucking good, Y/n-ie. I want to cum in your mouth. Can I pretty please?”

Another approved hum from you, and your girlfriend reacted with a punched out groan at the same time she fills your mouth with cum.

“Hah…so good…”

You sat up with pride after swallowing your personal favourite liquid snack, cleaning your mouth with a simple swipe from the back of your hand. Minjeong was still catching her breath when you hovered above her lap and held her still hard length at your soaked folds.

Minjeong doesn’t even remember seeing you remove your clothes because now here you were bouncing on her cock with your plush tits in her view. She kissed the flower tattoos across your collarbones before resting her lips on your right nipple, sucking gently as her hands held your hips.

She could almost touch the tips of her fingers together from how small your waist was, her middle fingers resting on your back dimples perfectly.

“Hah fuck! My Minjeongie is so good for letting me use her cock hm?” You managed to word out despite constantly impaling yourself onto her thick and long cock.

Minjeong nodded cutely and almost choked on her saliva when your cunt seemed to tighten around her more. “U-Use me all you want, Y/n-ie”

“Fuck, feels so fucking good, Jeongie! I’m so close, help me cum baby”

Your girlfriend didn’t need to be told twice. She planted her feet on the bed and wrapped you in her arms like a bear before destroying your pussy with repeatedly hard thrusts.

The bed was constantly being driven into the wall from how fast your girlfriend was going but who were you to complain? Her cock was kissing your cervix deliciously and you immediately became mush in Minjeong’s hands, crying and moaning into her neck to the point you even started to drool.

“Oh god yes yes yes that’s it, puppy! Gonna make me cum all over your big hard cock hm?”

Minjeong painted your neck with hickies. “Mhm want to make Y/n-ie cum!”

“Fuck you’re so good to me pup. Give me all of your cum okay? Want you to fill me until my pussy aches. Can you do that?”

Minjeong’s eyes rolled back at your words. “Hah..I’m cumming!”

“That’s it, baby! Fuck I’m gonna squirt!” You bit onto your girlfriend’s broad shoulder and shook in her arms as you sprayed clear liquid all over her cock, pelvis and even the sheets.

Minjeong continued thrusting until she emptied her balls inside your drenched cunt. “Holy shit…”

You pulled your ass up slowly as Minjeong’s cock fell limp and watched thick globs of semen rain from your pussy, moaning at the sight.

After taking a quick taste of her cum, you took the covers that you pushed off earlier and hugged it over you and Minjeong’s bodies, comfortably laying on top of your girlfriend.

Minjeong brushed your hair and was about to ask how you were until she heard slight snoring. You were knocked out quick. Smiling at the sight, your girlfriend sweetly kissed your head and fell asleep with you, reminding herself to give you a good shower once you woke up.

[lexirosewrites]

In honor of nurse appreciation week…

Instead of ‘Eddie gets a toy stuck in him and Steve helps him get it out,’ what about alpha Eddie picks out the wrong size of ‘pocket omega,’ so his knot gets stuck and he goes to the ER?

Omega nurse Steve is both horrified and impressed.

He wants to just get out the sterile scissors and start working at cutting away the rubbery toy piece by piece, but he can’t help the lecture that starts to slip out too.

Who can blame him? He is a nurse after all.

“You have to be more careful next time. You can really constrict the blood flow with these things if you’re not careful!”

Eddie’s face somehow gets even more flushed and he mumbles something, not making eye contact when he does.

“Sorry?” Steve asks, ready to admonish him for whatever excuse he has for buying the wrong size. “What was that?”

Some alphas just think ‘smaller is better’ and Steve knows that’s bullshit.

To believe otherwise is just antiquated and juvenile alpha-brained thinking.

Eddie clears his throat, finally looking at Steve directly when he explains sheepishly, “I got the biggest size I could find. It’s just… my knot is kinda huge.”

Steve whimpers a little at that, clamping his legs together tightly at the thought of such a large knot filling him.

“O-oh.”

He’s glad he wasn’t holding the scissors.

“Yeah, it’s kind of an awful problem to have,” the alpha admits as Steve tries to get a hold of himself and do his job like a professional.

His mouth might be watering now.

“No! I mean- uh, I’m sure there are plenty of omegas who would be willing to- that- that is to say- um…”

He can’t think of anything but big knots and being filled with them.

Eddie chuckles, scratching at the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better about it, sweetheart. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here for the same stupid problem. This company just advertised carrying a size big enough to accommodate any knot and I believed them.”

Steve is going to cum in his fucking scrub pants like some slutty omega who can’t control themselves.

If Eddie’s telling the truth (and Steve’s inclined to believe him, especially since the proof is almost in front of him), then Steve’s never going to stop thinking about it.

He makes the last few cuts, finally able to pull the mangled toy off his patient’s swollen cock and behold the goddamn ‘Mona Lisa’ of alpha knots resting in his unworthy hands.

Jesus Christ.

It’s one thing for Eddie to say he’s been blessed in this particular area and it’s another for Steve to see it with his own eyes.

(and hold it)

“Oh good, it deflated a bit,” Eddie states with relief.

Huh.

“It… went down? This isn’t your full knot?” Steve wheezes out.

The alpha’s timid smile turns into something closer to a smirk, almost like he’s proud now.

“I mean, you can find out if you keep stroking it like that.”

Steve looks down, horrified to find that he was indeed running his hands along Eddie’s cock like some sort of trophy in need of polishing.

“I am so sorry! I don’t know what’s come over me. This is beyond inappropriate. I’m sure you’re ready to go home and forget all of this!”

Eddie clicks his tongue thoughtfully, keeping Steve practically on the edge of his seat in anticipation.

“While I could do without the ER bill, I think I can justify the visit if I leave with an actual omega. Maybe even one who’s a bit of a size queen?” he suggests coyly.

Steve gapes at the sheer boldness.

“How- uh, why would you assume that?” he flusters, the room feeling much smaller suddenly.

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

Steve raises one back.

The alpha doesn’t break eye contact, reaching down to wrap his hand around Steve’s, giving it a light squeeze.

“Might have something to do with the fact that you still haven’t let go of my knot, baby,” Eddie purrs, leaning in closer so his warm breath tickles Steve’s face. “Or maybe it’s that fucking puddle underneath you that’s getting worse by the minute. You’re dripping for my knot.”

He is.

Steve can hardly breathe, every inhale giving him a mouthful of heady alpha hormones.

Despite the scent neutralizers pumped out into the hospital air and the patch stuck on Steve’s own scent gland, he’s fucking enraptured by the smell.

His hand twitches, tightening.

Steve can’t help but blurt out, “My pussy can take it. I fuck myself open on the biggest fake alpha cocks I can find every night, but they’re never enough. They’ve- they’ve never been—”

He swallows, trying not to choke on his own drool building up in his mouth from ust.

Eddie presses his lips right up against Steve’s ear, letting them brush his skin when he whispers, “Yeah, sweetheart? They’ve never been… what?”

The alpha’s other hand drifts between Steve’s legs, pushing down the front of his pants and finding his arousal evident there.

Steve whines pathetically at the feeling of Eddie’s searching fingers running through the slick on his flushed skin.

“They’ve never been as big as you are, alpha,” he confesses, breaking every last ounce of willpower and giving in to his needs completely.

“What do you want, omega?” Eddie asks, trailing kisses behind his ear and down his neck. “What do you need from me?”

“I- I need…” Steve keens loudly as a wet kiss is pressed directly to his mating gland. “Your knot splitting me open like I’m just a toy.”

Eddie smiles.

“You are my toy.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

could you do a pregnant reader x rafe

a/n: okay but that got my brain buzzing, so i simply had to get all the thoughts out in the form of headcannons (written right before i fell asleep, sorry if it shows)

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

okay, so picture this: he's the asshole frat boy, you're the cute college chick who unlike him is actually there for the education.

also, he's your ex...

you were only together for a few months, but still, that shit was intense, the relationship nearly broke you from all of the high highs and low lows

it was exhausting being in love with an asshole, hence why you're no longer together

he was totally the type of toxic boyfriend to only wanna fuck you without a condom, either by pressuring you or just straight up lying and then rolling the rubber right off either as soon as he got you into doggystyle or like halfway through when you were too cockdrunk to notice the difference.

so that might have been why a month or so after the two of you broke up, you were late...

i'm picturing that you finally took a test at the most chaotic moment: at the beginning of a party in a bathroom, your roommate doing a quick run to a pharmacy while drunk folks try to barge down the door.

when your roomie comes back, you're totally freaking out, full-on melt-down, while she sits on the counter beside the sink and tries to calm you down, thinking up other solutions to your symptoms.

but the damn stick shows you two lines.

you were pregnant.

"so are you gonna tell him?" your roomie asks you, but you're still on a completely different planet, trying to comprehend the result.

"huh?"

"rafe. are you gonna tell him? i mean, i assume that it's him, unless there's somebody else, in which, how dare you not spill."

"what? no, there's no one else. of course it's rafe's..."

"...so? are you gonna tell him?"

but you have no idea if you want to or even should. you don't even have the slightest idea what you might wanna do about it all, if you should keep the baby or not.

but timing really is a funny funny thing, because when you then decide to go home to process everything (because damn, now you can't stay at the party and celebrate the close call), you bump into none other then the man, the myth, the whore himself: rafe fucking cameron.

now, you're straight up crying at this point, just overwhelmed as fuck, so of course he doesn't let you just slip by without figuring out what in the fuck is going on, if there is some douchebag he needs to go beat up.

"there only douchebag you need to beat up is yourself," you spit out before you can stop the phrase.

"oh, come on, baby. you can't still be mad at me? it's been like a month."

"please, rafe... just let me go home..."

"no, not until you tell me what's wrong!"

and when you actually say it out loud, it's like the awful party music fades and the buzzing crowd around you disappears.

"i'm pregnant."

at first, he just stands there stunned, staring straight through you.

if he's holding a glass, then he definitely drops and smashes it on the ground.

but then he grabs your arm and wordlessly drags you with him, all the way up to his room.

that's when, in the dull quiet of his dark dorm room, that it really sinks in.

for a while he just stares at you, letting his eyes scan down your frame, surely imagining what you'd look like in a few months.

and then, out of the blue, he whispers, "marry me..."

"...what?"

"marry me," he utters with more confidence, "i know this isn't exactly how it should go, but babe... i still love you. i never stopped... let me take care of you, let me take care of our baby, let me give you the life we deserve. so what do you say? will you marry me?"

but you just stare back at him as if he's gone mad.

"...no."

your stomach starts to flip as you then see the first signs of rage flare up on his features, "what do you mean no?"

"rafe, i'm supposed to be finishing up my degree, being young and dumb, not getting knocked up by the last man i'd ever want to be forever stuck with."

of course he then totally pops off, pushes you into a corner, yelling, screaming, all the nine yards

saying all this stuff about how you should be grateful that he ever gave you his time of day in the first place, nevertheless get you pregnant with his kid.

sooo, me thinks the next steps in their story gets pretty dark, pretty fast....

we talking him taking you with him home to tannyhill because school is simply too stressful for you and the baby (in his opinion)

mayhaps he straight up locks you in a room and acts all nice, pretends that nothing is wrong with the way he handles it all

forced marriage? yes? no? yes.

him getting fucking FERAL when you start to show?

also him getting feral long before that, taking the chance to make sure you're really, totally, 100% pregnant, if you know what i mean (in other words: all of the creampies ever, just over and over again, fucking load after load deep inside of you + so so much cumplay)

and the ending? i imagine that one day, after your kid is born, you run away, baby in your arms and not much else.

you try and create a quiet little life for you and your child somewhere far away

but eventually (of course, just for the sake of ✨drama✨) he finds you...

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[readbyred]

may i request how the dps boys would react to realising they have a severe crush on a, preferably shy, reader! tysm <\3

Oh, I've been waiting for dps requests! Sorry for my late replies everybody, I got demotivated again because tumblr deleted a few of my x reader posts (and a few others). But I'll try to not let that happen again if I can even help it

I think Knox would have such a silly time trying to approach you. Because we all know he’s awkward, but determined at best and, well… pushy at worst. I'm trying to go with the version I saw in a play, because thankfully they cut out the party scene which means he’s still delightfully insufferable but not awful. Anyways, he would jump on every occasion to talk to you. And then just. Stand there. He’d try to give you flowers and poems, everything really. But he loses brain cells every time he’s around you. At least you’re both equally stressed about social interactions. He gets a little braver when you give him a smile or any other sign you like him. Not less awkward, but a bit more motivated to go for it. His main problem is that he can't read you well and despite being big on feelings and all, he still has a hard time actually talking to you. Clumsily, he showers you with over the top things, that most would find cringey but you think of as endearing. And if he thinks there's a chance he’ll lose you, he’ll confess right away. I think he is brave and pretty open about feelings. Just stressed out

With Neil, it's not an issue at all that you're shy. He’s more so taken aback by his own strong feelings. Because he wasn't expecting to fall this hard. But give him like five work days to process and he’ll be all in. I feel like he would take his time to confess but he’d make it known that he cares about you. He’d be checking up on you every time he can, bringing you coffee, asking to practice lines together, go to the movies in town. Even before you two start dating you just wake up and half of his sweatshirts are in your drawer (he likes to borrow you his clothes if you’re cold) and your desk is littered with poems he shared with you. He’s a gentle lover, but he knows what he wants and when the time is right Neil has no problem confessing

It's much funnier with Cameron because this boy is in panic mode 24/7. At first he legit thought he was sick because he always felt dizzy and distracted around you. And he’s a traditionalist. Everything has to be perfect when you’re around. Like he beats himself up about every little mistake he made around you. But also makes a point to treat you RIGHT. If you’re shy he might not know how to approach you at first, because he’s not sure if you’re even interested. And how to make you like him. After much teasing (mainly from Charlie, of course) he gets fed up with his friends and decides to make a move. It might not be the most romantic when he does, but it's sweet and genuine

Another one that would take time to confess is Meeks. He’s pretty quick to accept that he’s crushing on you. He’s like, yeah obviously they are amazing, now what do I do with that? He tries to give you things. Small things. Like maybe he could borrow you a book that you’ve wanted to read for a long time of buy you a coffee/tea if you’re out in the town. He doesn't explicitly say that he liked you but it's easy to tell and he’s not one to be shy about it either. So when you guys do get together, you already know his more… romantic side

On the contrary, Charlie takes time to process his feelings. He had crushes before, but real feelings (strong ones at that) aren't the norm for him. Sometimes he catches himself losing his cool around you and it messes with him so bad. He would probably ask Knox for advice. Which is a bad move. But he figures that at least his friend is more familiar with having those sorts of feelings. Nothing much comes of it because I can't imagine Knox giving him any good advice on the subject, but after he was able to talk about liking you, he decides to just go for it. Well, in small steps. Primarily because he’s just not an intense guy, but also because he’s surprisingly mature when it comes to respecting your levels of comfort. Doesn't mean it gets boring though, it's Charlie we’re talking about. Once you get together there's not a one dull moment with him by your side

With Todd, it might be difficult at first. He’s overwhelmed by fis feelings and has a tendency to talk himself out of making any sorts of moves. Why would you like somebody like him? He tells himself he doesn't have a chance, surely. It only confirms his suspicions when you don't take initiative. It's only after he’s been moping around for a few days that Neil approaches him about it and proceeds to give him shit for not doing anything to let you know his feelings. He’s like, bro, so you care about them so much that you’d rather not have them in your life because you want them in your life so much??? Make it make sense. So with Neil's encouragement, he tries to at least talk to you and see where it goes from there. Still shocked when you end up returning his feelings. You’re in his poems now, even if it's not very obvious (he's not as straightforward as Knox, so it's not ‘i love (yn) and I want them to be mine’ kind of deal). This is the only one where I'm sure you might have to make some sort of a move. Todd’s like a spider - he’s more scared than you are and if he could, he would just silently hang out in the corner of the room you’re in. But he gets a little braver after he starts feeling more secure

Lastly, Pitts is not as bad as Todd, but still takes his time. He’s comfortable with liking you and he knows what he likes, but he’s not in any rush to make things official. So any time he has any chance to talk to you, he does and just wants to see how things go from there. He jokes around with you, asks to come study together, tries to be close. He does care, just in a more chill way than some of the other poets would. If you two have been talking for some time, he would have no problem asking you to go out with him, doesn't make you feel pressured or anything. If the others are cool with it he will do his best to have you come to their meetings at night as well. So you do not only get an awesome boyfriend out of it, but also a great friend group

[fangirl-dot-com]

Carlos Sainz - You don’t like spicy food?! Then why the heck do they call you Chili? 

Aw guys imma cryyyy – this is the last part of Besties for the Resties. I have enjoyed every single moment of writing these. Sorry if the last few ones were short, I’ve been using all of my brain power for finals and for the Christmas chapter! That one is going to be a doozy and I’m hoping it’ll hit almost 10k words: because y’all deserve some good writing! 

I honestly don’t know when this story is set. I have tried to write all of these for races before the summer break. So that being said, on my master list I am not writing a chapter for the Barca Grand Prix – so this chapter will be during that time! 

For one last time for this series – I hope you all enjoy! 

[TAG LIST IS CLOSED] 

Remember that comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are all appreciated! 

The sun beat down on the top of your head as you lounged and napped in the hotel pool. The Spanish Grand Prix was right around the corner, but you had time to relax and get your tan on. The water lapped at your limbs, cooling you off as the sun felt as though it was getting hotter. 

Kelly had told you time and time again to put on sunscreen so that you wouldn’t burn. You definitely did not want to drive a Formula 1 car with sunburn. At least you weren’t as fair as Max was. You thought that he was a vampire or something. His skin automatically turned pink if he was outside too long. You guessed that’s why he always wore his Red Bull Cap. 

Quiet splashes sounded at the opposite end where you knew Kelly and Penelope were playing. It was nice to hear their giggles as they tossed a beach ball around. To your left, however, you could hear the men talking about the cars and whatever part made more downforce, which was close to bringing you out of your light sleep. 

Apparently when booking the hotels, Red Bull and Ferrari had decided to get rooms at the same place. Which led to you, Penelope, Kelly, and Max finding Carlos and Charles already at the pool. You were glad that they were pretty good friends, because if it had been Esteban, well, you shivered at what might have happened. 

You were a bit bummed that the other drivers’ hotels were much farther away. Because you would have asked Lando, Oscar, and George to come over as well. You had already asked Daniel, hoping that Alpha Tauri would have placed him with you and Max. But sadly, he had his own hotel where he was staying with Heidi. Which made sense, if your significant other was here, you’d want to stay with him too. 

You tried to block out any conversations about the cars, but they were getting too loud. You sat up on your floaty as you looked around. Your eyes adjusted to the bright light after having been closed for a while. 

“Good morning,” Max laughed as he looked at your discombobulated appearance. 

You groaned as you sunk into the water, cooling off the rest of your body. The three of them just laughed as you swam over to the stairs. Pulling yourself up, you stepped onto the warm tile and made your way over to where they were sitting. You took the offered towel from Charles and wrapped it around your shoulders. 

“How are you not burnt?” Max questioned, shocked at your skin that was void of any redness. 

Your shoulders raised before dropping, “Genes? Also you woke me up. Do you have to be talking about the upgrades.” You grumbled, sunglasses hiding your closed eyes as your head tipped back. 

A scoff left his lips, brows furrowed under his bucket hat. “You needed to wake up anyway. You’re going to ruin your sleep schedule.” 

“More than it’s already ruined,” Charles pipped, looking at the shared laptop on the table. 

You turned your head and looked at Max, “Can we order food and drinks or something?” 

Max nodded, getting his phone out. You told him what you wanted, but were interrupted with a scoff from Carlos. Max turned, looking a bit annoyed. 

“Everything all right mate?” Charles asked, trying to diffuse the situation. What the three of you didn’t see was Carlos looking at the menu on his phone. 

His eyes widened as he realized what he had done. He quickly held up his phone. “I was scoffing at the menu. Everything seems too spicy.” Max melted back into his chair, but you were completely confused. 

“You don’t like spicy food? Then why the heck do they call you Chili?” Max and Charles laughed at your question. “What? I’m just super confused.” 

Carlos let out a laugh of his own. “No chica. A fan gave me a hat that had chili peppers on it. I guess it just stuck. Kind of like your name.” 

You crossed your arms. “It’s my manager’s fault. He’s the one that started calling me kid in the first place. Then Christian somehow found how, then Max, then my strategist, and now everyone calls me that.” 

Charles pondered for a moment before speaking, “And why is that?” 

You pouted, “Cause in Formula 4 I was the shortest there, and Vito said I looked like a kindergartener who snuck into the middle schooler’s field trip.” 

The three men started to laugh while you continued to pout. 

“It’s really not that funny,” you pouted. “So why are we talking about upgrades? We’re supposed to be enjoying this relaxing time.” You leaned back into your chair, closing your eyes once again. 

Charles started, “Well, on our cars they seem to be doing much better this year with pace, but it’s still not as fast as we’d like it to be.” 

You hummed, thinking about what it could be. “It could just be the balance distribution on the corners and such.” You leaned forward again, now hunched over as you looked at the laptop. Your head jutted toward Max. “How much are we allowed to help.” 

“As long as we don’t talk about specifics of the car, then we have free range, oh – thank you,” Max was replying but got cut off by a waiter with the food that was ordered. 

Drinks were passed around as well as lunches. You quickly grabbed one of your tacos and bit into it. The juices ran down your mouth as you tried to wipe it away. A towel was quickly thrust in your direction. You nodded in a thanks as you swallowed and wiped your chin. 

“So, does the car feel unbalanced in the corners?” you questioned to the two Ferrari drivers. 

“Non, the car feels good. Our pace is just not where we want it.”

You thought for a moment, “Then it might be the breaking or the overall strategy and tires. You two just need better strategists.” 

Carlos ran a hand down his face. “That is what we have been trying to tell them. But every years it’s ‘Oh, they will get better’ but then they don’t.” 

You nodded at this information, before taking another bite of your food. A thought popped into your head. 

“Could be the new design of your front wings,” you paused before adding, “or the gearbox.” 

“The gearbox,” Max said at the same time as you did. 

Charles snapped his fingers as his head turned towards his teammate. “That might be it.” 

You added, “If the gears don’t shift quickly or effectively, then you’re losing time in the laps instead of gaining. Especially when you downshift.” 

Carlos looked at you with amusement, “You really know your cars.” 

You shrugged as you took a drink of whatever fruity thing Max ordered you. “I thought about quitting F3 at one point to become an engineer for the cars.” 

Max cocked his head. “Why didn’t you though?” 

You smirked, “I kept winning.” Charles choked on his drink at your bluntness. “I also didn’t have enough money to go to school for a degree. Thought it would just be easier to continue.” 

Charles gave you a sad-ish smile. He knew what it was like to not have enough money to really pursue your dreams. Arthur knew that even more so. He was honestly glad that you didn’t give up or were forced to quit. Then Arthur wouldn’t have met you, he wouldn’t have met you, and so on. 

You brought him out of his thoughts, “Or the problem with your car might be just that you simply aren’t fast enough to catch us.” You shot the two rival drivers a wink before taking another sip. 

Max shot you a wide smile. “That might be it as well.” 

Carlos and Charles rolled their eyes, but both had a smile on their face. Once your food was finished, you stood up, making your way back to the pool. This time, it was Kelly and Penelope’s turn to get some food and drinks, and maybe a nap for P. 

You turned to the three before you got in. “Can someone play mermaids with me?” 

“No.”  

Y/n.89 has posted

they wouldn't play mermaids with me

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and maxverstappen1

liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet, and 95,204 others

landonorris if I was there, I would have played mermaids smh

y/n.89 its ok -Charles ended up playing with me and P charles_leclerc yeah, after you threatened ME

y/n-lover petition for Charles to play a mermaid in Barbie 2 if they make one

y/n.89 yes charles_leclerc NO

danielricciardo max got sunburned didn't he

kellypiquet yes y/n.89 that would be correct, lobster right now carlossainz55 he hasn't leaned back against his chair in 15 minutes

maxverstappen1 why does Charles get a good picture and I don't

y/n.89 CAUSE HE PLAYED MERMAIDS charles_leclerc yeah, I played mermaids - take that verstappen maxverstappen1 I will RUN YOU OFF THE TRACK christianhorner please do not

box_box_official this is just y/n's world and we're just living in it

AND THAT'S A WRAP - I LOVE YOU ALL!! ON TO THE REGULAR SHOW

AN: This will be the last chapter until Christmas!!

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[adventuringblind]

Joint Coping

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst

Dialouge: "Help me understand."

Summary: Max helps his partners learn to cope in healthy ways

Warnings: Selh-harm, unhealthy Coping, blood, Ferrari, Max being the sane one of the group

Notes: I would like to emphasize that this is a thing that does happen. I know because I've done it. This specifically is not something to be glorified at all. Self-harm done in groups can become competitive. This is a pretty toned down version of things I've experienced and it's less toxic. THIS IS NOT REACHING OUT. Just wanted to clarify :)

This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open if you'd like to participate (the link will take you to the request form).

Masterlist

Max knows something is wrong with his partners. It's like an itch in his brain he can't scratch. A sixth sense, if you will.

The two Ferrari drivers are struggling with their team. Every problem is their fault. They have become the Ferrari scapegoats. When they do poor, it's the driver. When they do good, it's the team and the car.

He's coming to the end of his patience. If he has to hear them self deprecate one more time he might actually consider making them stand in the mirror and say nice things about themselves. Can he fuck it out of them? Is that a possibility? He really doesn't know but is desperate and willing to try anything.

They both DNF at the next race. Max is a man on a mission through media and debrief. He needs to see that they are okay. At the very least not sitting through some kind of lecture a parent gives to a child.

He sprints to the Ferrari garage and runs into Carlos. Despite his injury that took him out of the season, he still comes to support his team and teammates.

"Carlos!" The Spainard spins around to face him. "Have you seen-?"

"They already left over an hour ago. Did they not text you?"

There are warning bells going off inside of his head. Something is clearly wrong and they aren't telling him about it. He's about to sprint away when Carlos stops him.

"Before you go, you should that there were some awful things said by their engineers and they looked really upset about it."

"Thanks Carlos."

Max is back at the hotel as fast as he can manage. He tried both their cells with no answer. It's killing him from the inside out with anxiety. He's probably just overthinking, but it'll feel better when he sees they are okay.

He keys the door open and doesn't bother taking off his shoes. The lights are off aside from the one in the bathroom. Maybe they decided a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. Max could also go for one. He pushes that thought aside for now.

He knocks gently on the door. "You two in there?" No response. Or at least - not one to him directly. There are a few hushed whispers, but nothing loud enough for him to hear.

He waits Aproximatley ten seconds before he can't handle it anymore and swings the door open. He expects to see fogged mirror and water on the floor. Instead he's met with the sight red wrists and thighs.

He's lost. Max Verstappen has no idea what to do.

They are stripped down to undergarments. Legs dangling over the side of tub. A switchblade in the hands of Charles. They both look teary eyed and doped out. Are they enjoying this?

God, he feels so stupid. Weeks of having Sex with no lights on, sweatshirts in hot weather, no swimming and doing private ice bathes away from trainers. He should've noticed. Max could've stopped this sooner. He wants to rewind and tell them to come to him instead of relying on this to get the through.

"Guess you caught us." Charles let's out a half assed laugh. "You gonna stare at us all night? Or can we get the yelling part over with? Last three partners left us when they caught it. I understand if it's to much. Not your burden."

Max had been a later addition. The two in the bathtub had been together since their teenage years. Had they been Coping like this for so long?

"Sorry about the mess. Relapses are hard. We made it all season until a month ago." She leans her head onto Charles' shoulder. How can they make this type of environment endearing? This is unreal and they need serious help. Which Max will eventually get them when he can get his act together.

He kneels on the floor in between them. Max is just now registering the tears on his cheeks. They'd been in pain for so long. It hurts him just thinking about it.

"I'm not going to yell-" he looks at one. "-I'm not going to leave-" he looks at the other. "But help me understand. I want to help."

"It's easier to do with someone else around. It's more therapeutic." The lopsided smile on the female's face is not helping Max. He has to many questions.

First, he gets them cleaned up. Neither of them flinch when he disenfects the wounds. They don't look at him as he wraps them in whatever gauz is in the first aid kit. They look ashamed as he puts the knife in his bag and rinses the tub.

The one that gets him, however, is the look of pure confusion when Max hugs them both so tightly. It's like they don't know how to respond.

They sit in a circle on the bed. It's comfortable and Max can see both their expressions clearly.

"I know the struggle." He starts. "Punishing yourself is better then someone else doing it, right? But I had Daniel there reminding me to reach out."

"It's just easier this way."

"Easier isn't better. Look at the state you're in. I'm not leaving, but I am getting the both of you help."

He followed through with this the next morning. Then looked supposed to see him when they woke up. He, and his childish mind, kissed all the cuts and scars. Every single one of them received proper treatment.

The female cried and thre her arms around Max. Charles had looked away in shame. The reasons they started this are still foreign to him, but that's not his priority.

He gets them help. All of them, mind you. They do group sessions as the three of them to find healthier ways to cope with each other.

Reasons seem to fade into the background because they don't matter as much. The important thing is that Max caught it in time. That he didn't lose them to their own minds. They are partners, and Max would be devistated to lost someone he loves to those dark places.

He rests easier now that the itch has been scratched. His partners are doing better. They smile and laugh at his stupid jokes again. A bit of confidence regained.

And Max reminds them daily that nothing is worth it if you have to destroy yourself for it. Drivers or not, he loves them regardless.

[rainylana]

“My angel baby, I’m here.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie finds out that you self harm.

warnings: reader self harms and is severely depressed, undertones of poor eating habits but very brief, language, lots of tears, blood, angst to the max, mentions of periods.

a/n: this is the longest that i’ve posted yet since getting back into writing and i’m super happy with how it turned out! it is a sensitive topic so it won’t be for everyone. this is dedicated to all the ones who can relate to this fic. i hope you all have an eddie in times when it gets too much. please let me know what you think. it means the world and more than you can imagine.

You knew that what you did was not healthy. You knew it was sick and messed up. You knew that if anyone found out, they’d think that you were insane. The scars you gave yourself had no real reason to be there. You blamed yourself for that. You didn’t know how to deal with your issues any other way. The moment you were alone you’d drift off to the bathroom, turn the shower on and begin your twisted ritual of self abrasions.

Life for you was difficult, but still, marking your self up was no excuse. You had tried to quiet, of course. Many times you had, but it was a habit you could not break. You were too used to doing it. It was an everyday thing. It was like breathing. You breath to live. You can’t not just breath. So for you, cutting yourself was like breathing. You didn’t think you could stop. It helped you deal with your pain.

If you’d have known what the evening was going to hold for you, you would have slit your throat the moment you woke up.

Darkness clouded your mind. Sitting in class, the fog you knew well was storming your brain cells, making everything else fuzzy and hard to understand. Everyone looked blurry, their faces funny and distorted. They sounded odd. Your heart ached and sunk into the pit of your stomach like it always did. You had no way of explaining what this feeling was and what it meant, but you didn’t like it at all. Once it got you, it had you.

You didn’t try to share any of this with Eddie. You didn’t want him to know how much you struggled. Scaring him away was your worst fear. It was why you never let him see the tops of your thighs. Sex was always under the covers. Lights off. Eddie didn’t complain of course. To him, sex was sex.

And god, did you love him. You loved him with your whole heart and soul. You’d be devastated if he knew your secret. It felt awful to bare, this huge burden you carried on your shoulders. You wondered if any of your other classmates shared it too. There was a darkness in your heart that was eating you alive.

“Babe,” A warm, thick hand grabbed your shoulder, pulling you from sinking to the bottom of the pool you were drowning in.

“Huh?” You said a little louder than you’d realized, blinking rapidly as your vision spun around the room. “What?”

You turned around in your seat to find Eddie’s doe eyes narrowed. “You good?” He whispered, leaning closer. “You’ve been staring at the floor for fifteen minutes.” Your class wasn’t even doing anything important. You had a sub, so everyone was doing their own studying or reading. Eddie had been talking to you until you drifted off.

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded with a swallow, grabbing his hand that still laid on your shoulder. “Sorry, Ed.���

“Just checking on my girl.” He gave you a wink that made you blush. “You coming over tonight?”

“Yeah.” You whispered with a fake smile, exhaustion taking over. He could see the way your lips had faltered. You turned back around and laid your head on your desk, arms being your pillow.

Eddie stared at you.

He might not have been the brightest bulb in the shed, but he knew you weren’t the happiest girl in the world. He knew you were sad and weren’t telling him about it. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to pressure you into it, but still, he was worried about you. He wished for one night that they both could talk about you instead of his problems for a change.

Maybe tonight could be the night.

•

You must’ve gotten your period, he figured. Here it was four o’clock in the morning, and for some reason he couldn’t sleep. He had gotten up to get a glass of water but stopped when he’d seen blood seeping through the tops of your sweatpants, the blankets kicked down below your feet.

“Babe,” He said groggily, giving your shoulder a light shake. “Y/n, wake up.”

You hummed back asleep.

“Y/n, I think you got your period,” He rubbed his eyes, leaning over you to switch on the light. “You’re bleeding.”

That woke you up. “Huh?” Your eyes went wide and you sat up. “Oh,” You gasped upon seeing the red leaks of blood seeping from your sweatpants. An inhumane shock of terror left your throat and you leapt from the bed to disappear into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Eddie, thinking it was your period, thought it was a little funny, even if he was exhausted. He got up and followed you to the door. “Baby, hey, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll get some new sheets from the closet, alright? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You didn’t respond. He waited for a moment to see if you would. He even knocked a few times before giving up and switching out the sheets on the bed. In fact, he did a lot before you actually came out. He changed the bed entirely, knocking again until you muttered a shaky response that you’d be out soon. He bit his thumb nail and paced for another five minutes before he went out for a smoke. He remained seated on the bed when you finally came out.

When he saw you, he knew something was deeply wrong. Your face was white and you were visibly shaken. Your face was stained with dried tears, your eyes bloodshot. Your heart felt like it was broken. This was too close. Nobody had ever gotten this close of finding out. The idea of him knowing made you feel sick. It was your burden and yours alone. It was yours. As sick as it was, it was who you were. Who were you if you didn’t do this? You were so used to it. It was routine for you. Half of the time you did it just to….well, just to do it, to feel something. You were addicted.

“Y/n,” Eddie glanced you over. “what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He stepped toward you, grabbing your elbows lightly. “Hey,”

You sniffled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go to bed.” You dismissed, now wearing a pair of dark leggings.

“Wait— babe, you’re crying,” He followed you to the bed, watching as you fixed the blanket over yourself. “Are you sick?”

“No, Eddie, I’m fine.” You adjusted your pillow, your body shutting down into survival mode. You needed the situation to be dismissed, shut down. “I’m sorry about the blood, was just my period.”

He sat down on the bed by your thighs. “Don’t be sorry bout’ that, honey. Just want to make sure you’re alright. You need anything? You want some water or something?”

“Eddie, I’m okay.” You stressed, laying down and turning your back to him. “Just forget about it, please.” Your voice broke.

He absolutely did not want to forget about it, not with the way you were trying not to cry. He sat there in the same spot for almost three minutes, eyes glued to your cheek. “Y/n,” He said again. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

You groaned into the pillow. “Damnit, Eddie, lay down!”

“See, I know you,” He shook his head. “You would never be this bothered over your period. Hell, last month you chased me around with your tampon!” He said bewildered, chuckling slightly. “Something else is wrong and you’re not telling me, and when something makes my girl cry, I want to know what it is, so tell me what’s got you so worked up, huh?”

You let out a sob and curled into yourself. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. God, you were so stupid. You shouldn’t have cut so deep.

“Baby,” Eddie frowned, leaning down to lay his torso on you, his chin laying on your shoulder so he could look at you. “Did I hurt your feelings today? Did I say something?”

“No.” You cried into your pillow. “No, Eddie, it’s not you. I promise, it isn’t you.”

He thought maybe he should just drop it, let you go to sleep and maybe it would be okay in the morning, but you were still crying, little puffs and pouts here and there. He couldn’t just dismiss that.

“It’s me.” You found yourself saying, out of the blue.

“What?” He missed what you had said. “I can’t hear you, honey.” He strained his ears to hear you.

“It’s fucking me!” You sobbed into your pillow, chest heaving with a heavy breath that made him jolt. “I’m the fucking problem!”

He had no idea why you were so upset. He didn’t know what to do. He gulped harshly. “Y/n,” He cooed, shushing you gently. He scooted closer, holding you tighter to place a kiss on your temple. “I’m here, baby. Shh, shh, I’m here.”

You let go, sobbing in his arms and into your wet pillow, you broke down in sobs. Most of it was just because you were purely exhausted and you were emotionally drained, depressed. This week you were in a deeper funk than what you’ve normally been in. You hadn’t been eating properly to start. Your showers consisted of laying on the floor and imaging yourself drowning. The idea of Eddie knowing your secret made you want to die, yet you spoke anyway.

“I’m so sad.” You whimpered while Eddie rocked you in his arms, his hands stroking your hair.

He’d thought maybe you’d fallen asleep. You’d been quiet for several minutes. “Why, baby?” He kissed your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” You thought, a crinkle in your nose as you tried to reason why you felt the way you did. “Something is wrong with me, Eddie.”

You were starting to scare him. He’d never heard you talk like this before. He swallowed hard, batting his eyes across the room like his answers were a poster on the wall. “Y/n, if you tell me maybe I can help you.”

God, was help possible? Could you stop? Did you even want to? Who were you if you didn’t have that one constant in your life?

The idea brought on a wave of fresh tears, your lips turning down in a blubbering frown. “You’ll think I’m disgusting.” Your back shook against his broad, bare chest. “You won’t— you won’t ever look at me the same. You’ll think…fuck, you’ll think I’m disgusting.” You sobbed broken-hearted.

Eddie started at your face, features masked in concern. He didn’t know what to do to make you feel better, and his mind was flashing the worst things that could’ve made you so upset, his imagination getting the best of him.

“Sweetheart, I promise whatever you think I’m going to say or do isn’t true.” He leaned over to wipe a tear. “I’m going to love you no matter what you say. That’s how this works, remember? Please, baby, tell me. You’re worrying me.”

Guilt made your heart pound. You let out a long mewl, curling up like a cat so you could cry. Eddie still didn’t let you go. This was your nightmare, yet you, yourself, were making it come true.

“I didn’t get my period.” You said with wet lashes.

“What do you mean?” He narrowed his eyes down at you.

You let out a sob, holding a hand to your stomach. “I mean, I- fuck, I didn’t get my..my- period!” You hyperventilated through your breath.

“Shh, calm down, sweetheart, you don’t have to rush,” He soothed you, rubbing your arms. “Come on, sit up with me.” He gently lifted you by the torso, your hair cascading down your back. You looked like a scared little girl. Your eyes were wet and your face was soaked like you’d been laying in the rain. Eddie sighed, his mouth in a frown as he tried to help you.

“Breath, honey,” He fixed your hair, smoothing it down in rough places.

“I’m so sorry.” You whimpered, grabbing his hands tightly, squeezing them.

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for, angel. Just want you to tell me what’s got you so upset. What is it that you want to tell me?” He knew whatever it was, you wanted to tell him. And deep down, you did. Maybe that was why you couldn’t shut the hell up.

“I’m so scared.” You shuttered a breath. “I’m so scared that you’ll…what you’ll think of me.”

His heart was beating loud in his chest. “You said that you didn’t get your period,” He tried to question you gently. “What does that mean?”

Did you really want to do this? Did you want to just let it all go within a blink of an eye? Truthfully, yeah. Yeah, you did. You couldn’t do it anymore. At least not alone.

You sat up slightly, fingertips grabbing the waistband of your sweats as you tugged them down to your knees. You didn’t look at him as you sank back down to sit on your ankles.

“I cut too deep.” You wept, staring down at your thighs. It was your canvas, your target area. They were scared on every inch. Some white and faded with age, some angry and red.

When Eddie saw them, it connected all dots instantly. His eyes widened in horror at your legs. They looked absolutely terrifying. He couldn’t help let out a gasp. “Oh, god, y/n,”

His large palms ghosted over them, and he leaned down so he could examine them closer. “Jesus,” His own eyes blurred with tears, his bottom lip quivering with emotion.

“I know,” You shook your head shamefully. “I know, Eddie, but I can’t help it.” You lifted your head up as you shuttered out a tearful breath. “I can’t stop no matter how hard I try. It’s the only thing that helps me.”

“God, y/n,” He traced your scars with his fingertips, jaw fallen slack in shock.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You bawled. “I’m so…I don’t know, I’m just- just- so miserable and it’s the only thing that seems to help. I’m just so used to doing it and I don’t think I can stop!” You blubbered, snot dripping onto your cupid’s bow and dipping into your lip.

Eddie’s head snapped up. “Oh, baby, come here.” He grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. You crawled to him immediately. He cradled your back as you threw your legs around his waist, your chests flush together in a bear hug. You sobbed into his shoulder, his kisses peppering your neck. “I’m here, I’m here.” He repeated.

“My angel baby, I’m here.”

Your body wracked with moans and groans of heartbreak, but you couldn’t deny the amount of relief that left your soul. It finally wasn’t alone on your shoulders. “God, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” Eddie hushed you. “You have nothing, nothing at all to be sorry about. I should be apologizing. I should have realized. I had no idea you were unhappy.”

“I’m so fucked up,” Your voice muffled against his skin. “I don’t even know why I’m sad I just- I just am! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Stop saying that.” He held the back of your head with his palm. “How you feel is perfectly understandable. I’m glad you told me. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Baby, I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this alone, but I’m right here now, okay? I’m gonna help you through this. I’m gonna help you rise above this because you’re so strong and you don’t even realize it. But you’re my girl and I know.” He rocked you in his arms, cradled you like a baby as you cried. “I know, baby, I’m here, I’ve got you honey.”

“Please, help me.” You fisted his curls, your chest hollow, yet heavy with emotion. “I need help.”

He nodded, whispering soothing words of encouragement as he fought off a wave of tears. “You can get past this. I did.”

You pulled away, your face an absolute mess. Red, snotty and tearful. Your lips pulled down in the deepest of frowns. “Oh, Eddie,”

He turned his elbow in a 90 degree angle, and angle you’ve never exactly examined, and cried when you saw the faded white scars. You went right back to his chest, holding him like a teddy bear. “Oh, Eddie, I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”

He held you close and kissed your shoulder, allowing one singular tear to spill that you didn’t have to see. He stopped when he met you. You were his saving grace. He’d be sure and do the same for you. His angel baby.

[odigaon]

baby

summary: you and your boyfriend decide to start a family together

rating: smut, 18+

characters: optional bias x afab reader

word count: 1,161

warnings: dumbification, oral (female receiving) impreg, unprotected sex

unedited!

—————————————————————————————————————————

there you were. spread out, dripping, and anticipating what he was going to do next. the thick fog of subspace hazing your brain was preventing any fully coherent thought from forming in your head. it was okay though. you knew that he was there.

for the last hour you had been bent into multiple positions all over your apartment (and outside): the car before you even arrived home, the front door, the couch, and the dining room table before he finally got you into the bedroom. your poor cunt was swollen and tender from cumming so many times, but every touch from him still felt as good as ever.

now he had you here on your shared bed. on your back with your legs spread and knees pushed up to your chest. his face was buried in your pussy, no doubt that his mouth was covered in spit and cum. how many times had you been eaten out tonight? three? four? it feels so good your brain is practically melting out of your ears.

at this point you think he must be doing it for his pleasure and not yours. every swipe of his tongue and suckle from his mouth has you keening and whimpering. words aren’t even being formed but he knows just what you need.

what gets you the most though? his moaning and whining. every time he feels you clench around his tongue makes him want to stop just slide into you and feel it on his cock. when he hears your voice pick up in pitch, he presses your knees further into your chest and avidly continues exactly what he was doing in order to get you your release for the fifth time that night.

you feel the knot in your tummy start to tighten. toes curling and fingers grasping on to the sheets as best you can, you try your best to warn him, but the only thing that can leave your lips are moans and whines.

letting out a loud squeal, your release hits you like a freight train. white hot pleasure radiates from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet. black spots dot your vision as you try to come down from your high. you feel him pull away from your cunt and sit up slowly. trying to blink away the haze, you do your best to follow him with your eyes.

he massages your thighs and whispers, “are you feeling okay, baby?”

when all you can do is sigh and blink at him he giggles, “silly me. why am i asking you when you’re too fucked out to answer? i’m sorry. my dumb little baby can only think with her pretty pussy right?”

you feel your cheeks flare up. even fucked out, you can tell his tone is the one he uses in times like this: a bit mean but still conveying his love and adoration for you.

“not dumb.” you muster out

“oh so my pretty girl can use her voice! what do you want next baby? no begging. just tell me and i’ll give it to you. but you have to use that pretty voice of yours or i’m gonna have you the way i want,” he says while lightly tracing the outer folds of your pussy.

“cock!”

embarrassing. you meant to form a full sentence, but evidently it’s not in the cards for you tonight.

“aw does my pretty baby want my cock?”

you nod your head frantically

“uh uh uh. words, baby.”

“yes. wan’ your cock please.”

he smiles one of smiles he saves for when you do something especially cute. pushing him self up slightly, he readjusts you both to be a bit more comfortable.

“you ready?”

“mmhm.”

he lines him self up, and slides home. or at least it might as well be home.

the first slide in is always his favorite. the sound you make is a drawn out combination of a moan and a whine. that sounds almost makes him blow every time.

he presses into you further and you think you feel all the air leave your lungs. he’s so deep, you think you feel him in your stomach. every inch deeper is making you lose your mind and before you know it, all train of thought leaves you and you are solely focused on his cock inside you. the loud ground that leaves him sends you over the edge again; tightening up on him and preventing him from moving .

“fuck baby. i love you so fucking much. your cunt was made for me. i wish i could spend the rest of my life inside you, pretty girl.”

god. the things he’s saying.

if that’s one thing you love about him fucking you: he always ends up fucking the both of you dumb.

the slow, deep thrusts leave you clenching and unclenching around him uncontrollably. one small change in the position, putting your knees back up to your chest, leaves him grazing your g spot. now your mouth has become a waterfall of whines and moans, if anyone tried to quiet you right now, you don’t think they could.

you feel him leaning down close to your ear and nuzzling your neck.

“yeah? that feel good baby? god i wanna cum inside you so bad. will you let me?”

all you can do is wrap your arms around his back and sink your nails into his broad shoulders.

“yeah? want me to cum inside? fuck, pretty girl wants me cum inside her and get her pregnant, huh?”

at that, your eyes nearly roll back in your head. pregnant? he always talked about wanting kids, but you didn’t know that he wanted them this bad.

a chorus of “yeses” start leaving your mouth. all you want, all you’ve been thinking about for the past couple months while the both of you had sex was how bad you wanted him to cum in you.

“you’d look so beautiful pregnant.”

it’s the last straw. as you’re cumming again you muster enough effort to reply to him.

“i want them to have your laugh.”

he starts picking up the pace and leans away slightly to look at you clearly. the pretty smile and misty eyes tell you that he loves you.

“I want them to look just like you, baby. your eyes, your smile, your cute little nose. i want them to know how great of a mommy they have.”

your eyes start to tear up. how can this man make you feel like this while still fucking you so good?

whimpering louder, you clench down on him in an effort to keep him inside. you want nothing more than for him to fill you up with his cum and get you pregnant right now in this moment.

his groans and moaning grow in volume as he gets closer to his release.

whispering out a small, “please. fill me up. i want it all. please. i wanna make you a daddy.”

his thrusts start to grow sloppy and he begins thrusting into you without his earlier finesse.

“you want it all? i’ll give it all to you baby. only you.”

with a handful more thrusts, your boyfriend is finishing inside you. his head drops into your neck while he rides out his high, whimpering in your ear. reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, you ask, “you really think i’ll be a pretty mom?”

he chuckles a bit at that, smiling into your skin and giving you a small kiss.

“i said beautiful. not just pretty.”

a soft blush colors your cheeks. he lightly strokes the side of your face while he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“you really wanna be parents right now?”

at that he lifts up, gives you small kiss on the forehead, nose, and then lips. he grasps your sides gently and shuffles the both of you around to where your head now lays on his shuddering chest.

“i want nothing more, baby. i’d do or give up anything in order to start a family with you.”

at that, your eyes mist over. god, you really love this man.

“should we start thinking of baby names and nicknames then?”

———————————————————————————

thank you so much for taking the time to read! if you liked it, please leave a like and reblog and if you’re feeling extra nice, a comment as well!

if you have any questions or would just like to talk, feel free to drop in my ask box!

[cvrnelians]

smile like you mean it - chapter five

You knew filing for divorce would be no easy feat. But filing for divorce from Roman Roy?

"No easy feat” might as well have been synonymous with “impossible."

warnings: drug use, alcoholism, miscarriage, Roman and the rest of the Roy family being awful.

chapters 1-3 // chapter four

music

chapter five

10 ways to get someone to like you: A foolproof guide

If you want to be liked, be likable.

Roman scowled and slammed his laptop shut, carelessly tossing it to the end of the bed. 

“What a stupid fucking article.”

He got up and stretched, his limbs still rigid from a heavy sleep. If there was anything positive to come out of the complete and utter shitshow that was the day before, a good night’s sleep took the cake. Rest was something Roman didn’t get a whole lot of lately, but when he did sleep, he slept hard. 

Prior to becoming COO of Waystar Royco, he had always been a heavy sleeper. It wasn’t unusual for him to get eight hours of shuteye even after napping all day. He had a copious amount of (not-so-fond) childhood memories in which Connor, Kendall, and Shiv jumped on his bed in order to wake him up. They often had to hit him with pillows and shake him to the point of nausea to get him to finally open his eyes.

Well, they didn’t really have to. 

There were a small handful of differences between now and then. 

Although he would never admit it, his job was a big source of stress for him. The most pathetic thing about it? Most days he didn’t accomplish even twenty five percent of what his colleagues did. And what he was able to do completely exhausted him. It was a lot to live up to, being the inheritor—and now a figurehead—of a monster he hadn’t created; a monster he wasn’t even sure he wanted to keep feeding. 

Another major difference between now and then was that Kendall no longer needed to shake him from a dead sleep in order to make him feel nauseous. All it really took was watching him walk into your room in the middle of the night, casual as could be, to put Roman into a not-so-ideal headspace.

“Acting like he was reuniting with an old friend or some shit,” he mumbled under his breath. He got into the shower, his mind going a million miles a minute as he continued talking to himself. “I’m Kendall,” he mocked. “I’m better than everyone now, didn’t you know? I went to rehab. I drink green juice. I’ve read The Secret. I don’t have stress anymore because I never see my own children. Look how stable I am now.” 

This was the one downside of being so well-rested. His brain actually lived up to its potential. His mind simply refused to slow down. No matter how hard he willed himself not to think of you, he only thought about you that much more. Not that this was all that different from any other day. Roman thought about you all the time, sleep deprived or not.

He liked you. Okay? Even with your cheap clothes and your shitty attitude and your refusal to sit next to him in the car, he had some…feelings when it came to you.

Ew.

He hated it when you were upset with him, and he hated it even more when you weren’t around.

From the first time he saw you, he liked you. A lot, actually.

Roman liked you a lot.

He had gone to your room the night before to say he was sorry discuss how hypersensitive you were being in response to the hilarious things he said, but he stopped short in the doorway. 

As it turned out, you were busy. So as any gentleman would, Roman said fuck that noise and booked it back to his room. That was the second time you made him run that day, you little jerk.

He wondered if he should take bearing witness to that stomach-turning embrace between you and Kendall as a sign. Perhaps he should never apologize to anyone, for any reason, ever again. Not even to those who deserved an apology. Not even to you. If that was what he got for trying to be the bigger person, having to watch his stormcloud of an older brother get what he wanted without even having to try, well…what was the point? 

“Likable. Likable? What does that even mean?” he asked himself. 

Why would the author of that article automatically assume the people reading it were the unlikable ones? What kind of introduction was that? Why should he have to shoulder the responsibility of someone not liking him? Why should he have to do all this work to win you over? Why was he even worried about it? You should be the one trying to get into his good graces. You should be the one typing stupid questions into Google at seven o’ clock in the morning, not him. It didn’t matter that he called you a run-of-the-mill, ladder climbing, H&M wearing plebeian (or a coffee gopher). It didn’t matter that he had driven you to the brink of a full blown mental breakdown under his tenure. It didn’t matter that knowing he was the one that made you cry felt like a punch to the gut.

...which didn't even turn him on, by the way.

None of it mattered. He shouldn’t have to apologize for a thing. You were obviously sleeping with Kendall. Kendall! Even if you weren’t working for him, sleeping with Kendall would still put you in the wrong in any context. You were trying so desperately to make Roman believe he was the problem, just as everyone else did. You little gaslighter. 

You weren’t seriously going to leave over a couple of little insults, right?

Right?

He was so distracted by his own thoughts, he somehow managed to get a concerning amount of shampoo in his eyes. 

“Ow, FUCK!” 

Following five stressful minutes of washing his eyes out (or trying to, anyway), he slumped over and held his hands over his face, allowing the water to run directly over his head. He could still picture you crying on the plane, which he had been doing on a loop for the past several hours. He could concede that he came off a little unpleasant at times, but it was more of a defense mechanism than anything. Deep down, Roman knew he didn’t take anyone seriously simply because no one else took him seriously. But you had wanted to be taken seriously, and did everything to earn that. 

You were having some relatively fun banter prior to the moment he turned on you like a feral dog. When he was finished with his cutting little monologue, you looked like you had been slapped. Seeing you so upset and proceeding to mock you for it…

Ugh.

This was not uncharacteristic of Roman, but it wasn't necessarily his proudest moment, either. It made him sick to his stomach, as a matter of fact. 

A lot of things about the past few days made him sick to his stomach.

He could remember having a similar feeling from when he was growing up. Everything would be fine and dandy until he would say or do one little thing to set Logan off, and then bam: 

First came the hurt, then came the ridicule. 

“Oh, you’re crying now? You’re crying? Why don’t you just go tell Kendall about it? I’m sure he’d love nothing more.” 

Roman cringed at his own words.

First came the hurt, then came the ridicule. 

And then he was alone.

If you want to be liked, be likable.

He would never say it to you directly, but if he could, he would.

"I’m sorry I made you so sad."

☽ 

“You have no idea how things will turn out, and it’s very juvenile. It’s fucking dumb. You’re being dumb!”

You cringed as Kendall’s words bounced around in your head.

Last night had been very interesting, to say the least.

For several hours now, you lay flat on your back, slipping in and out of a restless sleep. When you did become lucid, you simply stared up at the impossibly tall vaulted ceiling. It was painted and preserved beautifully, gold borders encasing rich shades of red and blue. You reached your arm up, pretending to trace and retrace the intricate patterns with your fingers. Exhausted yet unable to sleep, you needed something mindless and soothing to wind yourself down. 

Sadly, your efforts were to no avail. Your mind was still racing, hyper focused on what transpired the night before. It was jarring to think that just a simple “so, how have you been?” from Kendall would open a Pandora's box you had no clue even existed. You didn’t have much time to concentrate on it, though. At that moment, two things happened at once.

You felt a stab of panic as you received a notification that your flight was now boarding. You couldn’t believe it. You had missed your flight. You had dissociated to the point of having missed your flight. And before you could even sit up, you were startled by a loud banging noise against your door. It sounded like someone was ramming something into it full force. You weren't even sure who you were hoping not to see at this point.

Not since Kendall went absolutely ballistic on you.

“Knock, knock!” a familiar voice yelled. He didn’t bother actually knocking, nor did he wait for you to respond. He probably thought the unpleasant crash was sufficient enough.

You were almost relieved.

Enter one Roman Roy.

But he wasn’t alone. In front of him was the culprit, the battering ram that nearly gave you a heart attack, in the form of a large metal breakfast cart. If that wasn’t bizarre enough, he was dressed in athletic wear. He looked out of place in such a grandiose room, like you were playing a beginner’s version of “I Spy.” 

I spy with my little eye something reprehensible.

“Here comes the breakfast fairy,” he said in an awkward, singsong voice. He slowly rolled  the unsteady cart towards you. “Here to um…y’know. Bring you breakfast. Breakfast just for you.”

A wheel broke off as he made his way over, making coffee spill onto the tray. He cursed as he shakily lifted the tray up off the cart and reached over to hand it to you. You gawked at him. “Okay, that’s what I get for saying that. That was fucking stupid. I didn’t say that. You don’t remember me saying that.” 

“You brought me breakfast?”

“It would appear so,” he said cheerfully. “Like a good boy.”

“I missed my flight,” you blurted out awkwardly. 

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath before reverting back to his typically rude delivery. “Yeah, not my problem. Can you please just take the tray? It’s really heavy.”  

“I missed my flight,” you repeated. 

He ignored you and slowly set the tray on your lap. He lifted the lid to reveal a pretty solid breakfast as far as you were concerned: a single poptart and two comically large cups of coffee. One was black, the other a latte with a poorly drawn happy face carved into the foam. You would have laughed if you weren’t so stressed out. All of this buildup for a lone pastry and an alarming amount of coffee.

“Where’s the second poptart?”

“I ate it. Obviously. Don’t be ungrateful,” he snapped. “You like wildberry, right? You seem like you would like wildberry. A little fun, a little different. Spice up your life, or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, breaking the poptart into several pieces before taking a bite. “You could have the most elaborate breakfast in the world, and yet you’d prefer to have this?”

“What? I may be rich but that doesn’t mean I like exclusively rich people things. Have you seen rich people food? I mean, probably not but…” 

You tentatively picked up the latte. “Did you poison this? Did you spit in this?”

“Hah, you wish.”

“I wish?”

“I mean, I can if you’d like,” he said, leaning towards you.

“No!” you yelled, making him wince. You lowered your voice. “Sorry, no. I think I’m alright.”

He reached down to pick up the other mug. “This one's for meee.”

“Of course it is.”

He gasped, cradling the side of his face with his palm in mock excitement. “Uh oh. I have an idea. Do you want to spit in mine?”

“I hate this conversation," you sighed. "You’d probably be into that, so I’m gonna say no.”

“Well, how do you know for sure that the cool one is yours?”

You shrugged. “Because I’m cool.”

“You sure about that?” 

“And I know you like your coffee black.”

“Touché,” he said, leaning against the wall across from your bed. You both drank your coffee in silence for a few moments.

“Did you bring this from home?” you asked, pointing to the poptart. 

“No. I made that lanky muppet go buy me a box.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wh...Wait, are you talking about Greg?”

“Yeah, I figured I would send Gumby on a little errand since I apparently can’t do that with you anymore. Since you’re—” he made air quotes with his fingers—“quitting.” 

“Wait, does he even know how to drive in the UK? How did he even get to a store? We’re miles from—” 

“I told him I would make him sleep outside if he didn’t figure out a way to score me some. I have no clue how he got all the way out into the city so fast. Can you believe that? Being tall does have its perks, I guess. His strides had him moving at the speed of light, apparently.” 

You gawked at him again, horrified. 

Poor, poor Greg.

You dropped the remaining pieces of the poptart on your plate. “I’m not hungry anymore.” 

“Oh come on, it’s funny. Don’t let his efforts be in vain.” He took a big gulp of coffee. “Anyway. I was thinking...”

“Why are you dressed like that?” you asked.

“Like what?”

“Like a fitness influencer.”

“I was getting to that. Don’t interrupt me.”

You leaned your head back and groaned. 

“Okay, drama. Calm down. We’re all supposed to go golfing this morning, but I hate golf. I'm pretty sure you do, too. You told me once. So I thought maybe we could, like. I don’t know. Pretend to go for a run like we usually do? Talk? Only if it’s not going to cut into your busy schedule, of course. Ms. Newly Unemployed.”

“Roman, what could you possibly want to talk about? If you’re going to try and convince me to stay, don’t waste your time.”

“I was thinking we could get to know each other, at least a little bit. That way, I would know what to put in your reference letter when you blow this popsicle stand.”  

“Yeah. Like you would write the letter yourself,” you mused. "Like you even could. You can't even reply to an email in a timely manner."

“Hey!”

“Fine. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. Like I said, I missed my flight and am feeling like a total idiot. Bet you’re really getting off on that one.” 

He stared at you for a few seconds, like he was thinking carefully about what to say next. 

“What?” you asked.

He sighed. “I’m not getting off on it as much as you might think.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t know how you perceive me exactly, but I have a general idea. And I know this might come as a shock, but like I said, I’m really not that bad. I mean, okay. I am. I am. But not in every situation, not always. I’ll have you know, I do have my moments.”

“Yeah? When?”

“Right now, maybe? Look, I brough—”

“Brought me breakfast. Yeah. I can see that.”

“Which I still haven’t gotten a proper thank you for, by the way.”

“I’ll give you a proper thank you when you give me a proper apology.”

“Fine. Okay, I’m sorry I was a little unreasonable with you yesterday. I’m sorry I, uh…manhandled you when we were getting into the car. Or tried to. Like, really, really tried.You’re pretty strong, you know that?” 

“Is that all?” you asked, cocking your head to one side.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about you and Kendall. And calling you names. I didn’t mean it. That about covers it, right?”

“And?”

“...being a dick?”

You considered not even bringing it up, but since you decided to quit your job, you simply did not care anymore.

“Aren’t you sorry that you lied to me?”

“Wait, what?” he asked, on the verge of laughter. “I didn’t lie to you. Lie to you about what?” 

Your conversation with Kendall rang loud and clear in your ears.

“It’s so good to see you. I wish you could’ve been on the flight with us, but I know you got held up. Work comes first.” 

Work comes first? What did that have to do with there not being enough seats on the jet? 

“Got held up?” 

“Yeah, Roman told us you guys were swamped.” 

“I…I mean, yeah. I’m always busy, but we flew separately because Roman told me there wasn’t enough room on the plane for us.” 

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” 

“Yeah, he said there were some issues with the seats. A few of them needed to be repaired, so there wasn’t enough space for everyone.”

“Are you…oh my god,”  Kendall scoffed. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Ken, I don’t—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Roman, why did we fly here separate from everybody else?”

Roman choked on his coffee, making him stop to clear his throat. “I already told you, there wasn’t enough space for our sparkling personalities on Dad's favorite plane.”

“Not enough space?”

“Yep.”

“You sure about that?”

“Look, no matter what evocative bullshit you send my way this morning, you can’t change my mind. I’ve already decided. I want to make things up to you. So, if you’re upset that I maybe told a little white lie, I’m sorry.”

“So you did lie, then?”

He eyed you sheepishly.

“Sort of. How did you figure it out?"

“I don’t get it. Of all things, why would you lie about that?” 

“I don’t know, maybe it had something to do with me not wanting to hang out with my family in a torture chamber for hours? What if we crashed? You think I wanna die surrounded by a bunch of scorpions?”

“They’re your family!”

“Unfortunately."

“If the two of us crashed together, you’d have died alongside someone that doesn’t even like you. How is that more appealing?”

"Oh, how you wound me," he said flatly. “That may be so, but you don’t annoy me. Not to mention, you only sting me if I sting you first. It’s refreshing.”

You didn’t have the mental bandwidth to analyze that one this morning.

“Alright, fine. But your apology tour isn’t quite over yet.”

“You do know I don’t have to apologize to you at all, don’t you? You’re leaving. You’re basically nothing to me.”

“And yet, here you are.” 

“What can I say? I’m just such a nice guy.”

You both stared at each other for a second before launching into hysterics.

Roman sighed as you both attempted to stop cackling. “You know this is the most you’ve smiled at me in…like, ever? Is that poptart really that good?”

“I just feel relieved is all.”

“And why is that?”

“Why do you think?” you asked. "I'm finally freeing myself from your reign of tyranny."

"Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, setting down his mug. “We have fun sometimes, don't we? I mean, we got into a blowout argument yesterday and now we're totally fine. Even when we argue, I still don't feel like we're enemies. And believe me, I have a lot of those. Are you sure you want to leave?”

The way he was looking at you was truthfully making you a little sad. But as per usual, he wasn't thinking logically. You were practically attached at the hip every day. Of course there was some level of familiarity between the two of you, even amidst all the chaos. It was easy to mistake for friendship, given how often you were in communication, given how much you did for him. But that was your job.

You had to stop yourself from smiling.

Not anymore, it wasn't.

“Roman, the way we communicate is super dysfunctional. You’ve made me cry multiple times. Yes, I’m sure I want to leave.”

“Ugh," he groaned. "Okay. Look, as far as I'm concerned, you're king shit of fuck mountain right now."

"Excuse me, what?" you laughed.

"What you say goes. Pick a number, I'll increase your salary. Lay out some ground rules. I'm not the most ethically sound person in the world, but I do know how to compromise when it comes to doing what's best for business. And you're probably the only person who can tolerate me, so."

"Roman, I don't think I can come back from yesterday. That was way, way too much. But it's not just you. Last nigh—"

"I was wrong," he interrupted you. "I usually am. Shocker. But here's the thing: you're kind of like...invaluable, to me?" It came out as more of a reluctant question than a statement. His voice was shaky and small as he continued on. "You've, um...helped me a lot. In more ways than one. And I don't want you quitting and just going to work for Kendall again, because I don't really trust him."

"Roman, I can assure you that is not something you will ever have to worry about. Last nigh—"

"Just don't go, please."

You would've been more annoyed with him constantly interrupting you if his voice didn't sound so pitiful, if he didn't look so pitiful. You were caught off guard by the groveling. Not necessarily put off by it, but certainly surprised. This was possibly the most vulnerable you had ever seen him. And the whole breakfast thing; since when did Roman go out of his way to do something deliberately nice for you? It was very obviously to serve his own purposes. He didn't want you to quit, but it didn't seem to come from a bad place.

You had observed him for a second too long, it seemed. He cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure. Just like his kindness, Roman's willingness to be vulnerable also had a very short shelf life.

"If you expect another apology, you can fuck off. And I know you do expect one. But don't actually fuck off, you know what I mean? Out of everybody here, I want you to fuck off the least."

"Wow," you said flatly. "That's amazing."

"I know. I can't believe it, either."

☽ 

kendall 👀👀

@pearlstiare // @ay0nha // @theladyalicnt // @littleladdty @spacebaby1

[moonrisecoeur]

heheheheheh re6 vampirehunter!leon meeting vampire!user and he’s like so cocky and arrogant only to be absolutely ruined and submissive to vampire!user i’m giggling n twirling my hair

omg anon sorry this took so long to answer i had to wait until my brain was working again but like. wow. love this concept!! i feel like i might have seen this before i think it might have been a cai bot??? not sure but whatever the case u are so big brain

i lowkey kinda hate this but i hope u don't lol

his whole life he's been taught to kill a vampire on sight, no exceptions. they kill innocent people!! and steal their blood!! so obviously being the selfless hero that leon is, he takes up the role as a vampy hunter and tries to keep his village safe. he's killed dozens of vampires in his life, keeping his family and friends safe. he doesn't care that it's a risky profession. he has people to protect.

but when he hears rumors of a vampire living on the outskirts of town, in an abandoned building that no one dared to enter, he knew it was his job to take care of this vampire.

and yet he goes to find them and they are just absolutely not what he expected. most vampires try to be all sultry and seductive to distract him, or some become violent right away. but this one, you, just spoke to him like a regular person.

"stay where you are," he says, his silver dipped knife to your throat.

'come now, human boy. let's not good too ahead of ourselves' the last one had said to him. they taunted him, tried to seduce him.

"i don't understand why you are after me. i haven't killed a human in... hundreds of years," you say to him, letting him keep you in a vulnerable position. there's this air of arrogance to you that leon can't help but despise.

"you're a vampire."

"and yet, you humans only seem to come after me."

"i am not going to be swayed with words," he scowls, "you're a monster."

"then why haven't you killed me yet?" you tilt your head back to gaze at him, glaring to be more precise, but you weren't planning on him being so attractive. when did human men get so pretty?

he blinks, almost confused. he expected a bit more effort to get away, but it almost seemed like you knew he wouldn't.

and, for some reason he can't describe, he eventually releases you, and you immediately struggle for the knife, throwing it to the other side of the room, and within a millisecond he's underneath you, your glaring red eyes peering down at him. he's not showing it, but he's petrified.

"this is... much more comfortable," you chuckle.

"wait, shit, i'm sorry, please don't..." he stuttered. poor thing, he's actually scared.

your fangs are inches away from his neck and he seem to be begging with his eyes for you to please, oh god please have mercy on him. he looks so ripe for the taking, it would be so easy to pierce his skin with your fangs and just... just ruin him. leave his body a lifeless corpse... or potentially make him like you. that would be a perfect irony, wouldn't it? a vampire hunter being turned into a vampire? how tragic.

he can't help the sob that escapes him, "please, i- i don't want to die.." he cries.

and you know what? maybe he's doing it to get your guard down, feed your ego. i mean, he obviously knows yours is large. and yet... some part of you thinks it's not an act, that he's genuinely scared. but whatever the case, it does feed your ego.

"will you be good, human?"

he nods, desperately, afraid for his life. and when you get off of him, and offer him a hand to get back up, he doesn't know whether to be wary or grateful, or both.

your arrogance makes you... hard to get along with, but leon can tell you're much more powerful than any of the vampires he's killed in his entire life.

but he supposes you're not completely awful. you didn't kill him. you let him escape the first time, clutch his sliver knife to his chest as he ran out of your home. you eye him cautiously. something in you.... liked that human boy.

he returns again, this time to apologize. he felt the need to kill you because you were a vampire even though you weren't threatening anyone. you were oddly docile for such a scary, and insanely powerful vampire. you were truly nothing he'd seen before.

this time, though, he doesn't hold a knife to your neck, instead just nervously wandering around the place you have made your home. it's almost sad to him how lonely you must be.

in any case, even a human man trying to kill you counts as company, so you haven't been completely against his presence in your life.

plus, when you finally do end up seducing him, as he knew you would. he's incredibly pliable, somewhat nervous, and while obedience doesn't seem to come easy to him, you make it easy for him.

andddddd then u proceed to fuck his brains out until he can't do anything but lie there uselessly while you suck the blood out of his body but i digress.

you obvi try not to kill him when you take his blood but he's so yummy!! how could you not!! such a delicious little human.

[saratinz]

Erase Him From Your Brain

pairing ➩ Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

warnings ➩ angst, drinking, smut, pure filth, spanking, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, degradation, praise, pet names (good girl, slut)

synopsis ➩ sequel to 'Fuck Away the Pain'

word count ➩ 1.4k

a/n ➩ to celebrate reaching 69 followers, I give you part 2. comment to be added to taglist.

Your date with bucky is tonight, and you could not be more nervous. It’s weird, the fact that you’re about to have a romantic evening with the guy who you only had hatred towards two weeks ago. There’s a thin line between love and hate, and you two had crossed it. You have no idea what’s going to happen at this dinner. He picked a fancy restaurant, but no amount of money spent can make up for a lack of connection. And that’s your worst fear, realizing that even though your sexual chemistry is off the charts, your ideas of romance might clash. 

You went through hundreds of different outcomes in your head, but never did you expect this one to even be possible. “Ma’am, if he’s not gonna show up, I need you to give up the table.”

“Thank you for being so patient, he’s not coming. Here, let me give you, $20, for your time.”

“I’m so sorry about your boyfriend.”

“Appreciate it. Have a good evening.”

When you get back to the compound, you can’t stop the tears that flood your eyes. How could he do this to you? How could you fall for it, fall for him? Whatever shred of respect you had for him a month ago is gone. James Barnes is a no-good, very bad, wretched man, and no amount of charm will ever get him out of this hole he dug. You are done. Done with lies, done with assholes, and done with love. What even is love anyway? Seems like all it does is cause pain. Your thoughts race as you lie in your bed, wondering what the fuck you did wrong. You’ve felt this pain before, you know you can beat it, but everything feels so awful. You want this hurt to be gone. Why won’t it just go away? Why won’t he just go away? That’s your last thought before you drift off into a not-so-peaceful slumber.

You wake up to violent knocking, with your eyes puffy and pillow stained with makeup. “Y/n, it’s Bucky.” Fuck this, you roll over, figuring he’ll eventually go away. “I know you’re in there, F.R.I.D.A.Y confirmed for me.

“Fuck off James.”

“C’mon baby, just let me apologize.”

“Get away or I swear to god, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Just, I rescheduled our dinner for tonight, if you don’t come, I understand, but I’m giving you the option.”

“Hope you’re more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life.”

“I love you. ”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You scream into your pillow. The thought of going to dinner with Bucky makes you sick. It still crosses your mind though. No, you refuse to think about what could happen. Like how he could apologize, could be easy to talk to, could be your soulmate. Shut up brain. You do not want the guy who betrayed you, the guy who teased you to no end. You hope he’s in pain, and maybe that’s wrong, but it’s simply how you feel. 

You’re not usually a day-drinker, but this situation calls for it. You cradle your favorite drink, sipping it way faster than you should. You see a familiar face passing. “Hey Sam.”

“Hey Y/n. I need to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Bucky.”

“God, please don’t tell me he put you up to this.”

“He’s so sorry. He had a few drinks before dinner, he was so nervous, he wanted things to be perfect. He passed out from not sleeping or eating.”

“Here’s the thing, I don’t care what happened. I was scared too, but I showed up anyway.”

“He wanted me to give you this.” 

“Take it back to him, I don’t want it.”

“He said even if you didn’t open it, I have to force you to take the box.”

“Sam you’re really getting on my nerves.”

“Y/n, you want my honest opinion?”

“Go ahead.”

“He’s an asshole, you deserve better.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Because even though he sucks sometimes, he’s never cared about anyone half as much as he cares about you. He’s always had your back.”

“That’s what you do when your an Avenger.”

“No, I mean he literally begs people to check up on you, to look after you, hell, he convinced Steve to give you a chance.”

“I didn’t ask for him to do any of those things, and look how well my thing with Steve ended.”

“He cares more about you than he does his best friend, that’s what came between them. You’re special, he didn’t intentionally fuck this up, that’s just what you get when you fall in love with him. So please, for the love of god, take him back, so that I never have to do this again. I will pay you to go on this date. Name your price.”

“One million.”

“I was thinking more like $50.”

“I’m not going to dinner.”

“Just, don’t drink too much, okay?”

“I know. Goodbye Sam.”

“Bye.” Once he leaves, you get right back to self-medicating. The drinks start to taste less and less like alcohol. You know your limits, and you use that knowledge to drink as much as you can without blacking out. When you finally cut yourself off, you realize it’s time for dinner. But there’s no way you’re going. Even drunk you knows that’s a bad idea. 

Bucky clouds your mind, like the virus he is. How do you even explain your feelings toward him? He’s just, he won’t get out of your head. You kinda wanna go to dinner. Wait, what? No you don’t, let him be so embarrassed like you were. But he’s so hot, and good at sex. No, shut up brain. And you love him. Well, that you can’t deny. No matter what you tell yourself, that will always be true. Fuck it, fuck reasoning, you are going to stop him from going. You don’t want him in pain like you are. 

You practically sprint to his room, trying to catch him before he leaves. You run into him in the hallway with his room. “James, don’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s humiliating.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do. I still love you, I don’t want you to go through with this.”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” 

“Not even if I let you fuck me?” You put on your best pouty face.

“What?”

“Not even if I suck your dick?”

“Y/n, stop it.”

“Not even if I call you daddy?”

“How, how did you know I like that?”

“I didn’t, but I do now.”

“Shut up.”

“Guess you’re just gonna have to punish me, daddy.” All of a sudden, you’re pushed against the wall, caged in, and getting really turned on.

“You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like one.”

“Do your worst.” His lips are on yours in an instant, and it’s a filthy kiss, just tongue and teeth. You yelp as Bucky pulls away and throws you over his shoulder. Once you get inside his room, he walks to the bed and tosses you onto it. 

“Take your clothes off, underwear too.” You do as he said, feeling self-conscience under his dark gaze. “Good girl, now I’m gonna sit down, and you’re gonna lay across my legs.” Crawling onto his lap, you cry out as he smacks his hand across your ass. 

“What the fuck?” Another hit.

“You begged me to do this with your bad behavior. I can’t just let you get away with whatever. I’m gonna make you my obedient little slut, it’s time you learn a lesson or two. But if you feel uncomfortable, just say the word ‘red’ and I will stop.” Once again, you’re struck. “After every spank, I’m gonna need you to say ‘thank you, daddy’. You got that?”

“James, that’s humiliating.” He puts all of his strength into the next blow.

“That’s not my name princess, now what do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You reluctantly mumble.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You scream.

“Good fucking girl. Now we’re gonna do that 20 more times.” 

When your punishment is finally over, your eyes are puffy and your face is soaked. “It’s over honey, you did so good.” He helps you straddle him, kissing your tears away. You lay your head on his shoulder, wishing this feeling will last forever. He lies down, maneuvering your limp body so that you can use his still clothed chest as a pillow. You’re super drowsy, from the alcohol and spanking, and before long, you fall into a deep slumber.

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

[gg-neptune]

Hello ☺️ do you take request ? If yes, could you make your eating disorder headcanon into a fic ? Anyway, I like your Severus version and can’t wait to read your next work.

A/n: Hiiii!!! Yes I do take requests. Thank you so much! I love your works too. I love the way you write Severus but also Sinclair as well the way you portray him is so good I just love it. (I love your works as a whole the way you write is so yummy tickles my brain good) Also sorry it took me a few days I have to write things like this in moderation, but I hope you like it. <333333

Also this is related to my experience with having an Ed and my safe foods. I know not everyone can relate to an exact T, but I still hope if you are struggling with anything like this it can help you. If you know someone who is struggling or if you yourself is struggling, please reach out and get some help. You are not defined by a number or what you eat. You are so much more than that,

Warnings: fear of food, eating, ED, kind of panic attack, talks of feeling sick, anything I missed please tell me

It had been a long day of classes. Nothing terribly bad had happened, but it had just been a long day. Your head seemed to pound harder with each step you took. You were trying to make it back to Severus’ chambers. You two had been in a relationship for the better part of a year, and it was coming along great. He was beginning to warm up to the idea of someone being around. He no longer flinched as you brushed past him. He was now accustomed to sitting together on the couch, and on some days you might even get to sit on his lap. You know most things about him by now. He had slowly opened up to you, spilling out his heart for you. You had done the same. However, there was something you had not told him yet.

Finally, you had made it to the dungeons. Quickening your pace, you walk straight to where Severus is, hoping you don’t run into any students. You two had not been caught sneaking into each other's rooms before, but you had both agreed that if it ever did happen, you would say you were dropping off potion ingredients. Or if he was going to your room, he needed to borrow a book, or, in his words, “I’ll just threaten detention for a month with me one on one; they will leave.” Finally, you find your way to his room. No students were around, so you just slipped inside, not bothering to knock in case a student did come.

“Hey Sev I’m here,” you call out. The loud sound of your voice was like a knife into the skull. Your eyes unfocus as you sway back and forth a bit. Quickly,  you lean against a wall, attempting to steady yourself.

Before you appears a mass of black, “Hello.”

Severus lifts his head up a bit so you can actually see his face. His dark eyes look tired as ever as he looks you up and down, taking you in. He stands there for a moment before pulling you off the wall and leading you into his small sitting space. He had only bothered to furnish it when you had come along.

“You look a bit pale,” he stares at you while he says this, scanning over your face as he lightly pushes you down onto the couch. The plush of the cushions enveloped you as you sunk into them, letting your body relax as you held out your arms for him to join you. He does, carefully sitting beside you, wrapping an arm around you as he still stares at you, carefully examining you.

“I don’t feel all that good,” you reply, trying to downplay it.

“Well, not to be mean, but honestly, you look awful. Your pale and almost green,” concern is laced through his voice as he says this. He pulls you closer to him, keeping you firmly placed beside him. “Have you eaten today?”

“Yeah,” you keep your answer short, not sure if you could keep up lying to him.

“Really? Well, what did you eat then?” He’s on to you, and you know it. His voice is monotone as he bares holes into your eyes, staring down at you like he’s reading your mind.

“Well, for breakfast I had some blueberries and yogurt, and then for lunch I had part of a sandwich,” you gaze up at him, hoping he believes you. His eyes are narrowed into slits, and his mouth is pressed into a thin line.

“I didn’t know lying in a relationship was acceptable,” he states plainly, fixing his posture as he pulls you into his lap, cocking a brow at you. “Now one more time. What did you actually eat today? And don’t lie to me this time.” He isn’t mad, but rather just concerned.

Words choke in your throat as you try to come up with something to say. You can’t lie this time, but what do you say to him?

“I already know you didn’t eat anything, so I will rephrase the question. Why have you not eaten anything?” he questioned. This time his tone was more authoritative. You lean forward and rest your head on his shoulder, not wanting to look him in the eye at the moment, or rather, you don’t think you can.

“I just—um, well, I didn’t feel like it,” you reply. This was not entirely a lie. The entire day had gone by, and you had not felt like eating. However, there was more to it than that alone. 

“How about I go get something from the kitchen right now and bring it back? You need to eat,” Severus replies, rubbing your back as you lean on him. His other arm is wrapped loosely around your waist.

“No, it’s ok, I’m not hungry.”

He stops rubbing your back and lifts his arms up to your shoulders. He pushes you back and makes you look at him, “Liar.”

You don’t know if it was being made to look at him so intensely, or him being on to you like this, or not being as close to him as you were, or the weight of your own thoughts, but your eyes begin to well with tears as he says this. He keeps you held by your shoulders as tears fill your eyes, but his expression softens.

“Please tell me. I can fix it if you tell me,” the man's voice is almost begging as he looks at you. He pulls you back to his chest and gently strokes your back again, attempting to offer comfort. Tears fall from your eyes, but luckily his shirt is there to soak them up. “I’ll fix it; just tell me what’s wrong,” he whispers out into your hair. His voice is breaking the sight of you crying into him like this is breaking him. Of course he already knows why, but for once in his life, he is hoping his Legimens skills have led him wrong.

“I need to—I just lose some weight, you know?” You try your best to keep your voice steady as you say this. He almost instantly wraps his arms tightly around you as if he is trying to shield you from your thoughts as soon as you say that. You shove your face in his neck to hide your tears, and you take a deep breath to try and steady yourself, but you find it a tad hard to breathe. Severus’ grip on you has tightened so much.

“Sev- I can’t breathe,” you choke out, still fighting back tears. He loosens his grip but still keeps his arms firmly around you as you say this.

"No, you don't; you weigh perfectly fine. You need food,” his voice is no longer breaking but rather strong and determined now as he stands bringing you along with him. He sets you down back on the couch. “Now. You stay here, here take this,” he grabs a large quilt from one of the choirs in the area and drapes it over you, bundling you in it, “and then when I get back I’m going to have food. And you're going to eat. And you won't gain weight because food doesn't work like that. Am I clear?” His hands are on his hips as he stares down at your teary eyes. His expression is soft, but his voice is showing much concern. He leans down and gently wipes a few stray tears from your eyes. 

"No, no, I can’t,” you cry out. The thought of food is making you feel sick. “I can’t eat; I can't, Severus.” Your voice is weak and trembling.

"Yes, you can, and you will. It won’t be a lot, I promise, but you will eat.” He says this like it is the most simple thing in the world. Like you, eating would be simple for you. However, you knew better. You have been struggling with your relationship with food for a while now. Everything about it seemed to make you sick. You tended to avoid it because of this fact. However, when faced with a situation where you had to, it would manage to find its way up one way or another.

Severus presses a kiss to your head and then your lips before speaking, “I promise it will be ok,” his voice, gentle and soothing, “you need to eat pretty. I’ll be right back, and I will be here with you the entire time, I promise.” With that, he leaves, going to the kitchens leaving you with your thoughts for a few moments.

What would you do when he came back with food? You had not eaten in so long; you were not even sure if what you were feeling was hunger anymore. How are you going to deflect it this time?

Thoughts race through your head a mile a minute. It seemed like no time at all that Severus was back. Immediately he was in front of you again, attempting to soothe you. You had not realized, but your hands had gone to your hair, gripping tightly as if you were trying to pull your own hair out. Your breathing was rapid and shallow as you pressed yourself into the back of the couch, trying to enclose yourself in a space you deemed safe.

“Love, please look at me.” His voice was almost pleading, but he was making a great attempt at keeping it strong and steady for you. Slowly you lifted your eyes up to him, trying to calm down your breathing, but it was as if your hands were not your own, as they kept gripping tighter and tighter no matter how hard you tried to relax them.

His hands lift up to yours and gently cover them in an attempt to get you to relax. “Relax, it’s me. Just me. You and me.”

Slowly your hands relax, and he removes them from your head. “You're ok, come here; you're safe; it’s ok.” He pulls you to his chest, pulling you into his lap. He lifts himself onto the couch, sitting with you curled in his lap, completely safe.

After a while of silence, he was just holding you close. You began to hope he was going to drop the idea of making you eat something, but soon he crushed your hopes. “I brought mainly really light stuff. Nothing heavy like soup.”

He leans forward, and with one hand (the other still wrapped around you), he grabs a container and opens it, and inside is plain, uncooked broccoli.

“I used to eat this all the time when I was younger and I felt bad,” he says happily, taking a piece for himself and eating the top of it, smiling down at you.

“Severus, I'm not eating uncooked broccoli.”

“Why not? I’m here for you, love. I promise throughout it all I will be.

“It has nothing to do with that; it’s the fact it’s plain and uncooked. I’m not eating it,” you huff out. You lean back against his chest as he eats the rest of his broccoli and then reaches forward for the next container he brought.

"Well, fine then. I brought yogurt as well and this granola bar. Any of that sounds good,” he looks down at you. His eyes are filled with nothing but love. No judgment is present at all, only pure unconditional love.

“I guess, I dunno,” you respond, shying away from his eye contact. You hide your face on his shoulder. His arm comes back to you to wrap around you again. He begins to stroke your back again.

“I’ll be here. How about a few bites of the yogurt, hm? Then your stomach will have something on it, at least, ok.” His voice is gentle and calming as he whispers into your ear.

“I don’t want to gain weight,” you whimper out into him. Your arms wrap tightly around him, clinging for support. 

“Love, you won’t gain weight from this. Not fatty weight, at least, ok? A couple of bites of food won’t do that to you. And even if it did, you would be beautiful as ever, you hear me? You need to eat. I can’t stand to see you not, to see my girlfriend wasting away, and I know that might sound dramatic, but if you keep this up, you will. Let’s conquer this together, ok? I know you can, and I will be here with you to help you throughout everything. I am always with you through everything. Always.” He tries hard to get these words out, as he is not good with them. He struggles to say things in the heat of a moment, but he wants desperately to comfort you right now. He wants you to know there is nothing to worry about with him there. He’s going to keep you safe regardless of what you think.

He reaches forward and picks up the tub of yogurt. It’s your favorite flavor. You don’t know if you’ve ever mentioned this to him, and if you did, it was in passing, but regardless, he remembered. He grabs a spoon and opens the container. “Now don’t be frightened by how big the container is; I don’t expect you to eat all of it. Let’s go for at least 5 decent bites, alright?”

You nod in agreement, “I’ll try.”

He dips the spoon into the container and then lifts it to your mouth, offering it to you. For a moment, you stare at it wearily. Before coming up with an idea, “Severus distract me. Tell me a story or something.”

He puts the spoon back into the container and looks at you curiously. “What kind of story?”

“Just be descriptive, something to take my mind off what I am doing.”

"Well, all right,” he picks the spoon back up and begins telling a story of a dragon.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Once there was a dragon. He was dark purple with sharp horns sticking out of almost every inch of his skin. Many dragons in his area with horns were red or orange and not purple, making him very undesirable to the female dragons in his area. By the time he was just a baby, he had already discovered he was undesirable and unworthy of those around him. His odd coloring and horns were a result of his mother and father breeding from different tribes. This was forbidden in his land.

The dragon lived a lonely life. He lived atop a mountain and came down once a day to drink and eat. Each time he came down, he saw the same old other dragons who looked at him with judging and disapproving eyes. He had been met with this type of gaze his entire life. No one else was dark purple and had horns like him.

However, one time, on his way down to drink, he spotted another purple dragon. He at first suspected it was from his mother's tribe (his father having the horns, his mother being purple); however, the closer he got, he realized it too had horns. He knew immediately he had to go see up close.

As not to frighten the other dragon, who was drinking from the river, he went on the opposite side and pretended to lap up some water himself. His eyes stayed on the other purple-horned dragon the entire time, never leaving it. He was used to the judging stares he got, so he always suspected he was rather ugly; however, looking at the dragon before him, he could not help but think it was a beautiful sight.

Seeing it up close, he realized the dragon was a female dragon. She had the same coloring he did and the same horns all over as him.

She looked up, having sensed eyes on her, and was immediately met with his eyes gazing at her. He was almost too scared to move, but he managed to try to muster up the best smile he could.

He was unsure what her reaction would be for a moment, but soon she was flying over to his side of the river to join him.

“Who are your parents?” she questioned. Her voice was strong but still held a hint of curiosity in it.

“Norbert of the West and Falkor of the North.”

She studied him for a moment, almost trying to see if he was lying before her muscles seemed to relax.

They fell into easy conversation after this. They shared many of the same experiences throughout life, making it easy to bond. When it was nightfall, he offered his mountain up to her, and she happily agreed to the sleepover.

It was the first time in both of their lives that they did not feel alone. 

Many months passed. They had flown everywhere together, both having found a new spirit to go and explore the world. After a while, they settled back down atop the mountain since winter was fast approaching. 

“You are welcome to stay with me.”

“I would love nothing more.”

And that was the tale of the two odd dragons. One might believe that they will never find their one, but they will eventually. You are never truly only. Your person may just be a tad lost in finding you. Or, hell, you might be the one lost.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Before you knew it, you had eaten your 5 decent bites and even a few more. Severus realized, but you had now. Transfixed on his story, you had lost count and pushed the thoughts away from your mind as best as you could any time they would come near. He reached the end of the story at last.

“I made that up on the spot completely,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly, “but I think it was good.”

“It did what it was supposed to,” you respond. You lean back over to Severus once he has put away the yogurt and other food items, sending them to the kitchen with a flick of his wand.

He opens his arms for you and leans back against the armrest of the sofa, holding you to his chest once more.

“How do you feel?”

“Ok.”

“Just ok? No bad or good feelings, just ok,” his eyes meet yours, and you can tell he is genuinely concerned. He wants to see you eat, and he wants you to be healthy.

"Yeah, I’m just ok.”

Silence is cast over the two of you. You bask in his warmth, and he basks in yours. He makes a point of keeping his arms tightly wrapped around you, like he is scared you will slip away.

“Promise me something,” he breaks the silence. His baritone voice is almost jarring with how quiet it had been.

“Promise when you're struggling like this, you’ll come to me. I don’t care what I’m doing; I want to make sure you are okay.”

You grip his arm tightly, processing his words. In a perfect world, you would immediately just say that you promised, but you knew how it could be sometimes. Sometimes it wasn’t that easy. But look at you now. You're not feeling as awful as you were. Your headache is beginning to fade a bit, your stomach is not aching like it was, and now you are getting to be held by Severus. So maybe you could promise.

“I will be there for you anytime you need me; I promise you that. I swear to you I will be. I just need you to promise that you will tell me when you need me.”

“I promise to try my best to tell you when I need you,” you respond, knowing full well this was not a lie. You would do your best in the future to try to tell him what you were going through.

“Thank you, beautiful. Get some sleep, ok? I can tell you're exhausted. You did so good, you’ve earned it.”

Humming in response, you press your ear to his chest, wanting to listen to his heartbeat, and close your eyes. Very soon you drift off safe and sound in Severus’ arms. Perfect just the way you are, no matter what you eat, because you are not defined by calories or your weight.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Including Sunlight

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist             Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 

warnings: swearing, fluff, Frank having unhealthy coping mechanisms

a/n: I'm so sorry that this update is late, everyone! I've had a wacky month and it has completely thrown me off. Huge shout out to @xxdrixx for reminding me (again XD) to post what I'd written, and to my loves @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for helping me plot the upcoming angst arc!!!

w/c: 5.9k

You hadn’t known Frank for very long, but that didn’t stop him from becoming a necessary fixture in your life. Needing Frank was similar to needing light, or fresh air. Sure, you could go without it for a bit, but it would drastically reduce the quality of your life. 

Two days into his “business trip” (which you assumed was a cover for some illegal shenanigans because what sort of freelance construction worker has business trips), you were missing Frank something awful, and it seemed like Max was too. Though you’d tried your best to stick to the existing routine Frank had explained to you, the dog would get mopey in the evenings, laying his head on your lap with a dramatic sigh as he stared longingly towards the door. 

Frank hadn’t so much as sent an emoji since his departure, a fact that highlighted his already glaring absence. You had no idea if he was even alive, but you refused to go down that path knowing you’d never make it out of that endless anxiety spiral. Hoping not to bother him while he was away, you’d refrained from reaching out. Until Max’s heavy sighs were too much for you to bear. 

“I’ll see what I can do, buddy.” You promised, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of his pouting face. 

Sending Max’s sulking portrait off to your stoic neighbor, you included a message. 

You: I think he misses you. Hope you made it safely. ❤️

You were about to set your phone down, not expecting him to respond, but your phone buzzed immediately. 

Frank: Sorry, bud. He behaving for you?

You: He’s being a perfect gentleman. Please come back to us in one piece. 

Frank: Cross my heart. 

Smiling at the fluttery sensation in your chest, you set your phone down and resumed petting the pitbull taking up residence on your lap. 

Come back to us. A poor imitation of your melodic voice played throughout his brain on a loop as he got settled in the motel and began recon. It had been hours since you’d texted him and Frank couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not that he could ever stop thinking of you; the only thing that had kept him going through the bland, cross-state drive was the knowledge that he had you to return to.

And didn’t that terrify him. The knowledge that he had forged a connection valuable enough to anchor him on bad days should have triggered his factory reset. Cut all ties, change home and job, never look back. But you made him weak–sapping the resolve out of him with your doe eyes and intoxicating personality. He’d never be able to leave you like that, even if his proximity to you would get you killed.

Gritting his teeth, he began disassembling his rifle for the umpteenth time, hoping the familiar rhythm would provide an opportunity for his mind to claw its way out of the paranoid spiral it was currently parachuting down. Because it would do him no good to imagine the ways this could all fall apart. The high that your genuine care ignited in him was a hard one to shake, and he craved your affection more than any drug. 

Frank was no stranger to being forgotten, hell, most days he wished for it. Disappearing into the shadows made his work easier and it had helped him prevent situations like this, like you, in the past. Yet here he was, three states away, feeling desired and significant because of four little sentences of fucking text. You were a goddamn miracle. 

Placing the final piece of his weapon back into its place, he drew his hands towards himself, examining them. Given the nature of his work, both legal and less than, the skin was rough and littered with impressive callouses. Streaks of gun oil, dirt, and general grime lingered on the pads of his fingers and under his nails, a testament to the indelicacy of his job. How could he allow himself to touch you with these hands?

How could the universe allow him to indulge in something so pure, after what he’d done? 

He’d given you his name, his real one, but there was no way you knew the extent of his crimes against the people in your city–if you did, you’d surely never speak to him again. Before meeting you, he’d never questioned his choices. Wiping the murderous, sex-trafficking and drug-dealing scum from the face of the Earth was his purpose, and he lived it with pride. Pulling the trigger, releasing bullet after bullet into the chest of some criminal douchebag, it was the only reason he had the energy to keep going after the loss of his family. 

But the violence, that he’d made peace with, it separated him from the rest of society, kept him from forming attachments with people as delicate as you. Not to mention, you valued an honesty he couldn’t provide, and a stable relationship would require it…not that he was intending on pursuing that with you. Right?

Sighing wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose, heart pummeling his ribcage. You deserved to know the truth about who he was and what he’d done, but Frank wasn’t sure he possessed the courage to break that news to you, to risk losing you forever. 

Shifting uneasily on the fraying wicker chair, Frank studied a chip in the faux wood of the table he was seated at. Rubbing a thumb over the exposed plastic, he pondered his next move. His short recon session had verified Madani’s hunch that the arms dealers operated after dark, like most criminals, but sitting around the dingy motel room until then was a one-way ticket to insanity. 

As if his body was pitying his moment of unprecedented indecision, his stomach growled ferociously. Fuck, he could use a decent meal and a hot cup of coffee. Plucking his keys and handgun from the nightstand, he shoved his arms into a black canvas jacket before braving the outside world. 

Digging your glove-covered fingers into the laminated dough, you folded it over itself a few times before placing it back in its designated proofing bin to rise. Taking another lump of the yeasted mixture into your grasp, you savored the pleasant cushiony feeling beneath your hands as you worked, the slightly fermented smell of raw bread swirling around the kitchen as you flipped the mass. 

Your heart thumped serenely as you kneaded the dough at a steady pace, creating a beautiful rhythm you were more than familiar with. It was music, of a sort; the pulse in your ears acting as the bass while the cacophony of rattling spice jars and cracking eggshells composed unique melodies unlike anything else. 

Life was complicated, but food was simple. Customizing pastries and generating new recipes was an outlet for any emotion you could dream of. Tugging at the strands of dough helped soothe the tension in your shoulders, a symptom of the intense restlessness you’d been feeling since Frank left. Though his text had confirmed that he was alive, you couldn’t help but wallow in a feeling of gut-wrenching regret as you lived without him. If something happened to him out there, you’d never be able to tell him–

Shaking your head fiercely to clear the anxious thoughts from your mind, you raced to the walk-in, once again pouring your jittery energy into a recipe rather than letting your composure erode into nothing. Stabilizing the precarious tower of ingredients you’d stacked with your chin, you tread cautiously over to a clean station, unceremoniously dumping the contents onto the steel bench before popping your head out to the front. 

“Stace, you want somethin’ to eat?” You called to the girl, who was currently standing by the register on her phone. 

“What are you making?” She barely lifted her head with the question and her ambivalence made you snort. 

“Oh, you know, same old.”

With a small shrug, Stacy nodded. “Sure, why not.” 

Grinning, you ducked back into the kitchen and popped the lid off of the industrial blender, quickly whipping up two vibrantly colored and impeccably garnished bowls for the pair of you. Passing a spoon to Stacy, you smiled as she dug in eagerly.

“What, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?” You giggled, reveling in the way her eyes lit up as she ate. 

“Had a feeling you’d be cooking up a storm today.” Stacy replied, tilting her head at you knowingly. “You tend to do that when you’re mopey, and I’m never opposed to a free meal.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in defiance. “I’m not ‘mopey’.” 

“No?” Your dark-haired friend smirked. “That’s why you’re staring at that stupid bowl like it killed your family?” 

Ignoring her pointed look, you angled the bowl slightly differently before pulling out your phone. 

“It’s a pretty meal. I wanted to take a picture.” You reasoned, snapping a few photos of the deep violet mixture. 

“To send to lover boy?” Stacy snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“No! I mean, maybe, I guess. I mean—“ You spluttered and Stacy laughed boisterously. “Shut up!!” Pouting, you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your apron and stuck a spoon into your breakfast. 

“C’mon, princess, don’t let my teasing interrupt your pitiful flirting attempts. I’m sure he wants to hear from you.” Stacy’s expression was nonchalant, as always, but her gaze softened when your shoulders slumped. “I’m serious. He’s like, embarrassingly into you.” 

“I think you might be confused about which of us is ‘embarrassingly into’ the other.” You whined, burying your face in your hands. 

“Oh you’re pathetically head over heels for him too, that’s why you have no game.” 

Scoffing, you shoved at her shoulder. “You know what, I don’t need to be insulted like this. Get out of my kitchen.”

“It’s not insulting, it’s true!” She chuckled, eating the remaining few bites of her food as you struggled to force her out the double doors. 

“Out, out, out!” You panted, finally getting her across the threshold. 

The whoosh of air from the batwing doors blew stray hairs from your face, giving you pause. Did it matter why you reached out to him? He seemed to appreciate it…

“Fuck it.” 

Frank turned the cheap off-white mug in his hands, letting the quickly fading warmth seep through the material and into his palms as he looked out the streaky window. A gray hue had settled over the rural town he was camped out in, courtesy of the building storm on the horizon. The clouds mimicked his mental state, growing darker by the minute as the world remained stagnant. 

A low buzz caught his attention, his hand shooting out to stop his phone from vibrating off of the table. Flicking the screen open, his heart swelled with affection, like a ray of sunshine peeking through the barrier in the sky. 

You: *image* It’s official, I’m becoming a hipster. I was more concerned about this photo than eating my breakfast.

Not attempting to hide his smile, Frank shoved his empty cup aside to free his thumbs. 

Frank: Well, it looks so good, I might have to forgive you. What is it?

You: A smoothie bowl, very easy to make and quite tasty.

Frank: Never had one of those before. Looks good though, sunshine.

You: Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll make you one sometime.

Frank inhaled deeply, imagining that you were nearby and he could smell your soft vanilla soap. The thought of you cooking for him upon his return warmed his heart while simultaneously cracking it in two. He missed you dearly. Drawing his forearms into his chest, he took a picture of his own food, frowning at the grainy quality of the picture as it sent.

Frank: It ain’t as pretty as yours, but I’m eating breakfast myself.

The remnants of a stack of bland pancakes and some tough bacon paled in comparison to the gorgeous, speckled smoothie thing you’d sent him. Why it was in a bowl and not a cup, he wasn’t sure, but clearly you knew what you were doing so who was he to judge? A few seconds passed and Frank briefly wondered if he’d said something wrong. Before he could preemptively apologize, another bubble appeared on the screen.

You: Glad you are able to feed yourself without my help. I was starting to wonder…

Frank: Oh shut up, you goof. I do miss your cooking though.

You: Just my cooking?

His fingers hovered over the glass display, his brain scrambling for a response that didn’t reveal just how gone he was for you. In the end, he couldn’t find one.

Frank: Not just your cooking, honey. I have some work to do, but take care of yourself and Max for me, will you? 

You: Of course, Frankie. Have a good day :)

Frank: You too, sunshine.

Clicking the power button on his phone, Frank flipped it over, settling his head against his rough hands and massaging his forehead. Coward.

The shrill ringing of his alarm shattered the remnants of his uneasy slumber. Whipping his arm out from under the sheets, he stopped the piercing noise with a frustrated growl. Sitting up was a process, thanks to the new bullet wounds in his shoulder and hip—a true testament to how sideways yesterday night had gone. Madani’s brief had implied that this would be a cut and dry operation. Get in, confirm the sale, contact her team, leave. He’d been given strict orders to not shoot unless absolutely necessary. 

Which was a great plan, in theory. Frank was more than on board with it, even if the whole “no shooting” thing lengthened the process. If it kept him on Madani’s good side, and still managed to get him home before Lisa’s birthday, he could live with it. 

Apparently, the rookie member of Madani’s team was not so thrilled with Frank “stealing” so much of the glory. After Frank’s recon session and subsequent confirmation of the sale, the former Marine was about to call for backup when a scrawny 20-something kid darted into the dark warehouse after the arms dealers, holding nothing but a goddamn glock. Anticipating bloodshed, Frank was grumbling and sprinting after him before the gunshots started. 

Pulling the kid out by the straps of his ill-fitting bullet-proof vest was a task Frank managed by the skin of his teeth, procuring two moderate injuries in the process. Of course, the knowledge that the FBI was on their tail sent the arms dealers into a frenzy. Frank was sure they’d crossed state lines before Madani was even done screaming. Honestly, he half expected the poor woman to have steam coming out of her ears–she’d cussed at the kid with words even Frank considered impolite. 

Not that he could blame her, he was fuming all the same, especially when Madani had explained that he wasn’t off the hook for the mission and should head back to the motel to await further instructions. As if he was reliving it, the conversation that followed played in his head on a loop, their screaming match echoing off the walls of his brain. 

“For fuck’s SAKE, Madani, I did what you wanted–why should I be punished for the stupidity of this asshole?”

“Oh, he’ll be dealt with, believe me. But the agreement was to get Roshev and Miller into my custody. Not give my team a half-assed warning and head back to New York scot free.”

“Half-assed–you’re fucking joking. I had to ditch the objective to rescue YOUR DAMN AGENT.”

“Go back to your room, Frank. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re not–”

“That’s an ORDER, Castle.”

So here he was: waking up on a shitty mattress, his skin and hair still streaked with dirt and blood (because the crappy water pressure and freezing temperature had infuriated him to the point that he’d cut his shower short after cleaning his wounds), in pain and in desperate need of a better cup of coffee than anyone around here was capable of brewing. 

On top of that, it was his dead daughter’s 18th birthday–a fact that hung over him like a cloud of poisonous gas, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was powerless to stop it. He wanted to scream, to cry, to grieve for her, to do something, anything–but instead he was fucking stuck here, beneath Madani’s thumb until she tired of him. 

It was naive to think that he’d be home today, maybe drinking coffee that you had made specifically for him, bringing flowers to the cemetery, taking Max for a walk, trying to have a quiet day in Lisa’s memory instead of waiting around to deal with two scumbags who got paid to arm other criminals. He should have just shot them.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a rough hand, he stalked to the bathroom to clean up–given that a man covered in blood would probably scare the poor waitress at the diner down the street shitless. As he was rubbing a towel through his hair, his phone buzzed–presumably with a curt message from Madani about something else he’d done wrong. Groaning internally, he braced himself for another argument, but it never came. 

Instead, his phone had an unopened message from you. Flicking open the home screen, he felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he pulled up the photo you’d attached. 

It was a beautiful picture of you holding a basket of vibrantly colored cherries in the midst of some sort of farmer’s market. Your delicate features were highlighted by an array of pinks and oranges, courtesy of the sunrise in the background. Your smile was bright, your eyes sparkling as you beamed at the camera. 

Your first message was a simple explanation of your morning activities. 

You: It’s market day! I bought these gorgeous cherries to make some tarts. I’ll save you one ;)

As he was rereading the message, allowing his general irritation to fade as thoughts of you flooded his brain, his phone vibrated again. 

You: Thinking of you today. I’m just a text away if you need anything ❤️

Sinking down onto the motel bed, his throat constricted as he processed the sentiment. He was surprised that you remembered today was hard for him, even more so that you offered to be a line of support. But that was exactly who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who cared so deeply for the people around her, and for some fucking reason that included Frank. 

Typing and retyping a response to you, Frank blew out a breath. He felt almost…jittery. 

Frank: Thanks, sunshine. That means a lot. I’m looking forward to that cherry tart when I get back. 

You: I’ll make you as many as you want, Frankie. 

Lips twitching, he imagined you whirling around your kitchen in one of your signature patterned dresses making him a special batch of pastries. His heart squeezed painfully; your absence was taking a toll on him that he had not expected. Before he could consider his next message to you, Madani’s number flashed on the screen, indicating an incoming call. Lips curling into a silent snarl, he answered. 

“What, Madani?” He rumbled out.

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Her response wasn’t meant to dig under his skin, she simply meant it as a superficial jab, but the inclusion of the pet name he associated with you ignited a white hot anger in his gut, feral and hungry. 

“The fuck do you want,” He bit out. 

“Watch your tone, Castle. Remember who owes whom a favor here.”

Rolling his eyes, he brought out a more polite tone. “Yes, ma’am.”  

She huffed across the line, “Fuck you too. We found them. I’ll send the coordinates now.” 

“Lookin’ forward to it.” He ended the call.

Stretching your legs as best you could beneath the hefty pitbull, you sighed. 

It had been hours since Frank’s last text and you were not handling it well–the image of the little typing bubble on his side of the text chain haunting your every moment. Logically, the presence of those three flashing dots just meant he had started to type something and then forgot or had something else to attend to, but that knowledge didn’t quell the anxiety growing in your chest. 

He was out there, doing god knows what, on his daughter’s 18th birthday, presumably alone and hurting–and there was nothing you could do but wait. And cook him a lasagna of course. Which you had, giving your apartment the pleasant aroma of onions, tomatoes, and ricotta cheese as the dish baked. 

Your consciousness vibrated with the tenacity of an anxious chihuahua, listless with boredom and concern about your sweetheart of a neighbor. Squirming out from under Max’s head, you chuckled as the sleepy pitbull huffed in annoyance. “Sorry, bubba. I need to move around.”

In the final 30 minutes that you lasagna baked, you managed to throw together some simple pastry dough and pull out the small basket of cherries from your fridge. Popping one of the scarlet fruits into your mouth, you began to pluck the remaining stems off before removing their pits. Once they’d been sufficiently prepped, and your hands were adequately smattered with droplets of maroon fruit juice, you dumped them unceremoniously into a pot to create a compote. It didn’t necessarily pair well with lasagna, but you’d promised Frank a cherry pastry. 

Originally, you’d considered making him a cherry basil frangipane, identical to the ones you’d stacked in the bakery’s display case that morning. But, after the day he’d probably had, you figured he’d want something…less intricate. The compliment you’d given him during his first visit to the cafe still held true–Frank was simple and honest. He wasn’t difficult to please, but fancy words and expensive ingredients alone wouldn’t cut it. The food had to be good. So, you pulled out all the stops, making a recipe that you hadn’t made since you lived with Leo: cherry turnovers. 

Unlike your wonderful neighbor, the majority of patrons in the city needed a reason besides quality to continue giving you business. Elaborately decorated pastries and unique flavor profiles were what kept the cafe in business, so you hadn’t tried selling a modest dessert like these since your first few weeks at the Rainy Day Bakery. It was familiar, comforting even. You hoped it would bring Frank similar satisfaction. 

Trading the bubbling lasagna for a tray of triangle-shaped pastries, you brushed your hands on your hips. Re-covering the pasta dish, you hurriedly cleaned your kitchen, wiping away the traces of flour and sugar that inevitably dusted your countertops after you baked. As you rinsed out the mixing bowl, a high-pitched whimper popped the bubble of silence surrounding your apartment. Sitting rigidly by the door to your apartment, Max’s dark eyes pleaded with you. 

“Gosh, you’re right, bud! It is dinner time. I’m sorry, I got carried away. Let’s go get you set up, huh?” 

Snatching Frank’s spare key from your counter, you attached Max’s thick leash to his collar and jogged him back to his apartment, adding an extra handful of kibble as an apology for making him wait. Stroking his short fur a few times, you slipped the key into your pocket, scurrying back over to your apartment to grab the turnovers before they caught fire and reduced the building to ashes. 

Carefully balancing the pastries and lasagna in your hands, you marched back over to Frank’s apartment. Pretty soon, and with only one close call, the food was lined up on Frank’s countertop to cool. Brushing your hands together, you admired your handiwork. 

“Please tell me ya haven’t been sittin’ here with the door open all night.” 

The gruff voice behind you made you jump in shock. Whirling around, your fear morphed into pure joy as you took in the ruggedly handsome man before you.

“Shit, Frankie! You snuck up on me.” You practically squealed, rushing to hug him in greeting. He grunted as you slammed against him, hissing as you squeezed your arms around his hips. Eyes widening in realization, you started to pull back. “Oh fuck, you’re hurt, aren’t you? I’m so sorry, I–” 

Before you could unwrap your arms from his body, his broad hands splayed across your back, muscular arms tugging you back against his firm chest. 

“‘M fine, honey.” Came Frank’s soothing rumble. You felt him press a kiss to your crown before he buried his face in your hair. “Missed you like crazy, sunshine.” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear the darling confession. 

“God, I missed you too, Frankie.” You chuckled, your eyes prickling with tears, your body in awe of your own honesty. With his stubbled chin atop your head and his thick arms around your waist, you felt entirely sheltered by his body. He’d created a bubble of safety and serenity for you, as he always did. 

Remaining in his arms, you shifted out from under his head to examine him. Though you’d felt it across your scalp, his beard was noticeably overgrown and in need of a trim. His hair greasy and mussed, streaked with grime, just like his face. The skin of his face was tinged red, with blush or sunburn you weren’t quite sure, and the bags under his eyes were deep. In spite of yourself, your bottom lip stuck out, brow pinching in concern. Bringing a hand up to cradle his face, you stroked a thumb gently over his cheek, careful to avoid the sizeable bruise across it. 

“Oh sweetheart. What did they do to you?” You asked quietly, feeling choked up as the hulking man nuzzled into your touch, his eyes falling shut with a weary sigh. 

“It’s nothin’.” He murmured, his words worn out—as if he’d spoken them so many times they’d lost all meaning. 

“Then it shouldn’t take long to get you cleaned up.” You smiled, the gesture not making it to your eyes. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his prickly cheek before unwinding his arms from your waist. He started to retract his arms, to tuck them against his sides, but you caught his fingers with yours, grasping his hands tenderly. “Come sit, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.” 

The poor man didn’t argue. Instead, he let you tug him to the couch and sit him down, his lips twitching with fond amusement when you tucked a blanket around his shoulders. “This ain’t mine.” 

You shrugged, the hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. “I redecorated.” 

“I was barely gone three days.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes at you. 

Poorly stifling a smile as you pretended to be annoyed, you spoke as though it was obvious why you’d done it. “Your apartment is freezing, Frank. Did you want me and Max to get hypothermia while you were gone?” 

He huffed a laugh. “Still bossy.” Letting his head tip back to meet the spine of the couch, his eyes fluttered shut. Your cool touch manifested on his cheek once again. 

“Do you have a first aid kit, Frankie?” 

“Under the bathroom sink.” He answered, his words slurred ever so slightly with fatigue. He received a slight squeeze of his arm in response, your warm fingers leaving a lasting imprint on his skin. 

A year ago, he would never have let himself have this—a moment of peace. Time to let his guard down, to trust someone else to ease his pain. But the combination of his aching body, his heavy eyelids, and your fussing nature had him letting go of a tension he’d held for years, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Soft footsteps alerted him to your presence. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear you shuffle into a crouch, your chest positioned at his knees. 

Stifling a groan, he straightened his posture, wincing slightly as the motion tugged on his day old stitches. His eyes immediately focused on your adorable form in front of him, your own gaze roaming over the various bruises covering his visible skin. Dipping a washcloth into a small bowl of water, you gently lifted his wrist, washing away the dried blood on his knuckles. As you worked, a small river of dirty water–tinged pink from his scarlet blood–dripped down his fingers and onto your dress. 

He watched the trio of droplets fall, time slowing as if to highlight the moment that reignited his anxiety. Splashing across the multicolored fabric, the liquid seeped into your skirt, staining it as you held his hand. Your kindness was endless, and his presence was tarnishing it, ruining it, ruining you. 

Jerking his hand backwards, he cradled it close to his chest. “Lemme do this. I’m gettin’ blood on your pretty dress, sunshine.” He started to stand but you shook your head, gently pushing him back into the cushion and taking his hand in your grasp once again. 

Looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that you always seemed to carry, your lips curved into a small smile. “Frank, it’s just a dress, sweetheart. I promise it’s ok. Let me help you?” With your free hand, you stroked a wayward strand of his hair off of his clammy forehead.

Despite the fact that your gaze conveyed your desire to continue patching him up regardless of his answer, your tone was stilted–giving him the option to deny your help. 

“You’re too sweet for your own damn good, you know.” He sighed, letting his arm go limp in your grip to let you finish what you’d started. 

“Well, you’re too stoic for yours. Makes us quite a pair, doesn’t it?” Your eyes glimmered roguishly, your smirk encouraging him to roll his eyes. 

“Whatever you say, sunshine.” He snorted, knowing full well that you were right. 

You made quick work of tidying up the split skin across his knuckles, moving on to the bruised skin of his cheeks. 

“Didn’t know you were growing this out, Frankie.” You quipped, tugging gently on the untamed curls of his beard. 

His lips twitched, revealing a glimpse of his teeth as he smiled. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. Whaddya think?” 

Making a great show of shuffling back to study his face, you tapped your chin. “I like it.” 

“You do? Last time it was this long, everyone thought I was some sort of hipster.” 

Shrugging, you focused your eyes back on the cloth in your hand. “I always like how you look, Frankie.” 

Frank’s breath caught in his throat, unable to quite make it to his lungs. Thankfully, he could blame his lack of response on the fact that you were rinsing the injuries on his face, rather than his own lack of emotional intelligence. 

Eventually, you heaved out a breath, looking at him with a raised brow. “Did you want me to look at whatever’s bothering you here?” You asked, gesturing to his hip. 

“If I told ya I have no idea what you mean, would ya call me on it?” He grumbles, not quite sure how he’d feel revealing that much of himself to you. 

You thought for a minute. Nodding once, you answered. “I’d roll my eyes, but respect your desire for privacy.” 

Swallowing thickly, he huffed a nervous laugh. “Fair enough.” With two fingers, he tugged his loose shirt up and over his head, not bothering to disguise his grimace as he rotated his injured shoulder. Pulling the waistband of his pants down an inch, he suddenly felt a surge of fear, not sure how you’d react to seeing his array of scars. 

Inhaling sharply, you traced around his stitches with a finger. “Oh, Frank.” 

“It’s—“

“It’s not nothing.” Taking his hands again, your intensity returned. “You mean something to me. Seeing you hurt…it’s never nothing, ok? Not to me.”

A lump formed in his throat, he nodded as he tried to swallow it down. “Sorry.” 

“No apology necessary,” You squeezed his hands, placing a tender kiss on the raw knuckles of his right hand before grabbing a roll of bandages from your pile of supplies. “I’m not upset that you’re hurt. I just don’t want you to be afraid to lean on someone else for a change.” 

You dressed his larger wounds in contemplative silence, your soft skin a welcome change to the rough contact he was used to. 

“How’d ya learn to patch people up, sunshine? Playin’ nurse for other neighborhood menaces behind my back?” 

You giggled. “You’re my only patient currently. Cross my heart. I’ve just gotten used to first aid after injuring myself my whole life.” 

Bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, Frank’s brow furrowed. “Injurin’ yourself? What do you mean?” 

Eyes widening in realization, you shook your head. “Not intentionally! I’ve just been a klutz for as long as I can remember.” Chuckling sheepishly, you added, “Takes a toll every once in a while.” 

Laughing with relief, he traced a finger along your jaw as he withdrew his hand from your face. “Ah, gotcha. Christ, had me scared there, pretty girl.” 

Your face flushed with heat at the new pet name. You tied off the fresh bandages and stood up. “You should be good to go, unless you’ve got any other areas that need to be looked at?” 

Blushing as his mind traveled to less innocent places, he shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You winked at him, heading to the kitchen to dispose of the dirty water and trash. As you rinsed the last of the grime from the bowl you’d used, Frank moaned behind you. 

“Holy shit.” His words were mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, the other half of a cherry turnover in his hand. Swallowing with another horrifically attractive noise, he lifted the dessert in a gesture. “Did you make these?” 

“Yes, but they were for after dinner!” You scolded, your smile completely betraying your feigned annoyance. “Cherry turnovers. Do you like them?”

“No, they’re awful.” Frank deadpanned, shoving the rest of the pastry into his mouth ungracefully. You giggled, uncovering the lasagna before he could reach for another turnover. 

“Would you like some actual food, you heathen?” You asked through stray laughs. 

“You made me a lasagna?” 

“Thought you might want some comfort food today. So I made two of my favorites.” 

“Thank you,” Frank spoke your name gravely, as if it was a prayer. “God, sunshine, I dunno what to say.” Your heart ached as his voice cracked around the words.

“You don’t need to say anything, handsome. Just eat, so you can rest soon, yah?” 

Frank couldn’t help but let the tension he’d been carrying for days roll off his back like droplets of water, his eyes crinkling with fondness as you puttered around his kitchen as if you had it memorized. You plated two hearty servings of lasagna and took a seat next to him, handing him a fork. 

“I’m glad you made it back safely.” You smiled, your gaze more timid than he’d ever seen it. 

“Me too, sunshine.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, he speared the fork into the food on his plate, taking a massive bite. 

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Frank groaned, beaming at you. 

Laughing brightly, you took a bite of your own, overjoyed to have Frank to eat with again. 

Thanks for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are incredibly appreciated.

Taglist: @cheshirecat484@xxdrix@smhnxdiii@mattmurdocksstarlight@danzer8705

[sugar-omi]

Imagine mc giving birth to their baby. You know, Cove is probably panicking, Baxter pretending he's okay but at some point faints and our brave Derek letting mc crush his hand with theirs lol

And also I've seen a clip of a dude who just witnessed his wife deliver their baby and, with a face full of horror, he told her, "I am SO sorry, I won't do that again. " 🤣😭

I'm just imagining one of the boys saying something like that, in my head it's so funny

omg i almost missed this!!! im so glad you brought this up bc i love thinking abt how the boys are during delivery, especially cove omg (im sorry this is such a ramble... but also not sorry bc my brain worms are dancing in happiness at these thoughts)

cove:

even though you've had months to prepare for this and cliff n kyra has given cove lots of advice, paired with a lot of "don't freak out!" (sometimes followed by something freaky that happens during pregnancy or labor...)

he's prepared for this though. as prepared as an anxious first time dad can be. i mightta said this before, but whether you have him in the room the whole time or just to come cut the cord and hold the baby, is up to you.

if you have him in the room he'll let you hold his hand and he'll be holding yours back (he doesn't notice the pain of your grip for the longest...)

he definitely does what you mentioned and apologizes for putting you thru this LOL

after you give birth, he will do everything... he'll change diapers, put them down for naps, burp, wash, everything... because after that he needs to even the balance (if it was up to him, you'd never lift a finger after that, especially if you have multiple kids via birth)

HE'S ALSO OVERLY PREPARED

delivery bag? more like BAGS. mans has double of everything, he's PETRIFIED

also he runs to any place you want and buys you food while you're in labor if it's really long

and he stays with you up until its go time, then if you want him to wait outside he will

also he faints... or at least gets weak

if you have a c-section he's alrdy freaked out bc... omg they're taking a knife to you thats scary shit

but just natural birth? he's doubly freaked out because your body can do THAT??? you're literally pushing out a whole baby and he is awed but losing his shit honestly

would be babbling praises and encouragements (both for you and himself) n you can tell him to shut up its okay bc he's gonna laugh in the end anyway, but he'll probably end up going quiet bc he's trying not to be distracting and he probably saw something he wasn't prepared for 😬

probably starts crying the closer your baby gets to being out the womb, n after they're fully out and here he's bawling and just realized it but also he's trying to comfort n check on you first so you end up laughing bc he's fretting over you as if he isnt flooding the room

baxter:

mans is NOT CALM

tries to look calm, but he just looks constipated and he looks tired honestly

he's been losing sleep this whole pregnancy bc he's afraid of being a bad father, but he's so excited and ends up staying up at night talking to your belly so he just can't win

surprisingly dropped the collared shirts and slacks

mans is stuck in t-shirts and sweatpants or jeans

his hair is a mess too

omg he's napping when you go into labor

he jumps up, mismatched socks (either he's wearing an ankle cat print sock and a knee high sock, or he's wearing one sock. its bad n i think him wearing one sock is better (worse for him but hes fineeee))

the nurses love him bc he's running in and out bringing you food and runs back to get anything he or you forgot or might need

another over packer

honestly they're all over packers who are we kidding

this is where is wedding planner job comes in handy

has backups and plan b's for everything

and even though everything is right he brings extra just to feel better

won't be in the room if you want that ofc, but he psychs himself up to be in there

he's really scared n nervous, more-so than cove actually. but he wants to support you and if you want him in there, he's there. even if you reassure him he doesn't have to be there, he wants to be

he has to sit down while he's there, his leg is shaking and he's torn between watching whatevers going on over there and watching your face for any signs which.. doesnt really make sense since labor isnt like going to the waterpark but he has a kind heart <33

spends so much time looking at the baby... cove does too but baxter spends double that time

watches the nurses and doctors like a hawk whenever they mess w the baby

will curl up next to your bed and thanks you so much for giving him such a beautiful life, this is all stuff he never thought he'd have and he's so happy

derek:

he's actually the calmest one

he has 2 siblings and even though he was young when they were born, he has lots of experience with babies and he prepared

isn't that bad of an over packer actually, just extra baby stuff and some of the best snacks

but he'll still surprise you with your favorite food or takeout

he will do anything for you during labor, remind him to just sit down and hold your hand n stfu, thats what nurses n doctors are for n he really can't help much atp, its all up to you and the nurses+doc

holds your hand even though you might be hurting him. will just wince thru it or convince you to switch hands

will keep giving encouragement and either times it perfectly so he doesn't get on your nerves or you have to kindly ask him to shut up bc you're not playing ball, it isnt helping!!!!

also pulls a cove and does a lot of the work around the house and with the baby bc that was tough work, labor and carrying the baby? you deserve it!!!

ends up talking n holding the baby a lot, is probably a little scared since theyre so little and just holds their hand or looks at them

you sometimes wake up to him mumbling stuff to the baby, abt how happy he is, how he's going to take care of you both, how much he loves them...

carries everything outta the hospital by himself (by everything he means your hand and the baby, his family is probably dragging your stuff to the car bc they're here to help n make your life a million times easier and its literally a sleepover with nico around)

anyway. i need more dad!derek hc's now, specifically uncle nico and jorge, bc that is such a big brain thought

now this applies to all the boys honestly, i didnt even think abt it until now

but he helps you walk to the bathroom and put on all the pads n underwear n stuff if you need it

i remember seeing a youtube short where the woman said her fiance or husband helped her walk to the bathroom, spray her coochie w the water spray bottle, and with the underwear stuff

so don't worry about how you look or if it's icky because you're all sore and/or stitched up or anything like that because he's not paying attention, he just wants to help you in any way possible