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#its time for frank to sleep for a while
franks-mixtape · 3 months
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Indefinite hiatus
Hey guys, you all know I absolutely love dbd and Frank, but not gonna lie, I think its time for me to move on. I've been in this fandom since 2018 and while Frank, Danny, and DBD in general will always have a special place in my heart, I'm pretty burnt out. Its been like 6 years and the only character I've truly committed to writing has been Frank... for like 6 fucking years. I'm tired of him. He needs to go into a box. I need a break from him for a while.... also Balders Gate 3 has totally consumed my life and me and I just don't have the time to focus on this blog anymore due to my real world responsibilities. I've had a lot of fun running this blog and I've made some absolutely amazing friends because of it. I'm not going to delete this blog because there's always the chance I will return eventually! But until then, this is likely going to be the last post I make on here for a while. Though I still am gonna be commissioning art of my frank here and there so I'll probably still post those on here.
I also wanted to take this as a moment to apologize for something. In the past I have been excessively mean and frankly, dramatic when it comes to interpersonal situations which i had chosen to blast all over social media. I know for a while there people really enjoyed watching and reading all the drama but i've kinda come to the realization that that stuff isn't good for me. I like privacy. I've had a lot of misguided anger plague me in the past 6 years and rather than wielding it as a sword to protect me, i used it as a sword to cut down people who didn't deserve it. Especially in the beginning of this blog. I am sorry. And those I've wronged absolutely have no obligation to forgive me whatsoever... but I do want you to know I am sorry. I didn't need to be as mean as I was.
In the end, its been a good run of this blog. I have so many good memories tied to this blog and Frank. Thank you all so much for the support you have given to me through these years. If any of you guys wanna stay in contact, you are more than welcome to DM me to get my Discord or my alt blogs. Thank you everyone again.
Peace out
-Mun Luke.
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00ops1e · 7 months
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simon riley and fatherhood
When Simon came home from a deployment to find you, his sweet Mrs. Riley, about a month pregnant- he panicked.
He had never given much thought to children. To be frank, there simply was too much on his mind to even consider the possibility. Given his profession and upbringing, he always assumed parenthood just wasn’t for him. 
He knew you've always had a secret longing for a baby, keeping it to yourself out of respect for him and his sanity.
So, after the initial shock wore off, he couldn’t deny his excitement. Your giddiness certainly rubbed off on him. He acted a bit nonchalant, but you knew him better than that. 
You knew for sure there was nothing to worry about when you caught a glimpse at the open tabs on his computer, pregnancy blogs, lists and lists of names and ideas and tips 
The way he obsessively worked on the nursery was a big tell too, having taken time off to enjoy this privilege that he was lucky enough to share with you.
If he hadn’t initially panicked, he definitely started losing sleep when you found out it was a girl that you were having
Now, we all know and love Simon as a girl dad, but before he grows into the role, he’s a mess.
He’s terribly worried he won't be a good dad to her, that she won't be able to connect with him and somehow without that connection, he’d turn into his father.
For Christ’s sake Tommy was never able to give him a niece to prepare:(
Watching you nest, so excited for the arrival of your little girl, (along with a TON of late-night reassurance) He slowly let his worries slip away to enjoy the last couple of months with just the two of you.
If there  was any anxieties left, they melted away from him the moment he held your daughter for the first time. 
Half sitting on the hospital bed, pressed against you. His arms under yours, supporting your exhausted limbs. The limbs currently cradling your beautiful newborn.
He tears up while taking in the image of his girls, committing it to memory.
On those nights when it seems like sleep is the farthest thing from his daughter’s little mind, he stays up to soothe her.
Not so much because he’d rather you be able to sleep, more because he's completely infatuated with the way those little fingers wrapped around his one, the way babygirl seemed to relax when he spoke.
Simon walks up and down the length of the hall slowly, gently swaying with babygirl in his arms. There's definitely a visible trail formed by the heavy man’s constant, slow pacing.
When you wake up and find him not next to you, you rise and peek out the cracked bedroom door. Simon is lounging in the rocker, humming softly to babygirl. Talking to her as if she can comprehend his words. He is smitten.
To quote some comedian whose name I can't remember, he would take a bullet for you, but goddamn he’d use you as a human shield for this little life bundled in his arms. The love he has for the both of you scares him. He's completely whipped. 
Babygirl got your eyes, and lord knows he can't say no to you. This child will be the death of him.
this was supposed to be shorter but gd it was too heartwarming to stop. but moving on, HI GUYS LONG TIME NO SEE! sorry im morbidly depressed. anyway there will be a part two of this because its rotting my brain and i wanna take a look at when babygirl is older!!!! let me know what everyone's thoughts are please!
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satrs · 9 months
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OVERLOADED?
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SYNOPSIS; 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬.
FEATURING; TOJI FUSHIGURO. SUGURU GETO. SATORU GOJO. YUUTA OKKOTSU.
TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! unprotected intercourse. Cockwarming. Nicknames. Grinding. Oral(fem receiving).
WC; 0.7k
ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
You felt so bad for him, all exhausted and energy robbed from his hard work as a sorcerer killer. You as his lover sure could do something, right?
You already had the perfect idea.
“Yer doing so good baby, fuck.” Toji groaned at the feeling of your tight cunt around him, head thrown back into the pillow, eyes squinting at the lewd sounds your neddy cunt cried out, sucking him dry.
He had an iron grip on your hips, jaw clenching with each thrust of your hips. He found no strength in him to flip you around and pound into you, enjoying himself while his low lidded eyes examine your form.
Your back arched as you felt him hit a particular spot, hand reaching for your clit, circling it. “Just wanna make you feel good, Toji", you wholeheartedly admitted, teeth caging your bottom lip.
His eyes shot up to your face at the sound of your voice, licking his lips at the sight of your features twisted in pleasure, tits lewdly bouncing at your movements, your sinful sounds clouding his mind.
Low-lidded eyes glanced to where you connected, hand on your hip sneaking down onto your ass, firmly squeezing it, earning a mewl from you.
„Such a good girl, my good girl. Right? Always lookin’- shiiit, lookin’ out for me, yeah?“
SUGURU GETO
To be frank, he had a really rough day. A lot to do, day seeming to never find an end. It was like he was stuck in time until now.
The only thing he thought of as he kicked out of his shoes sloppily and removed his tie was cuddling with you. Well, not just cuddling.
“Suguru?” you questioned, voice drenched in sleep, as you turned at the feeling of rough hands around your waist. You felt the man grind into the valley of your ass, hushing you.
„It’s all good, princess, go back go sleep. Just let me feel you, yeah?“ You lazily nodded, slowly drifting back to sleep. But as you felt his cock nudging at your entrance, you couldn’t help but softly moan.
Sleep soon drifted away as you were taken over by pleasure, your hips grinding back against him in excitement, only to be halted by his harsh grip.
He slid past your puffy folds, groaning as he fully bottomed out, his tip dangerously close to tickling your womb. You sloppily grind back into his touch, earning a low moan from the man.
He held your hips in place, thick length comfortably laying inside of you. He buried his head into your neck, breathing in your scent while covering your neck with kisses, sometimes placing a warning slap against your ass when you moved your hips too much to his liking.
He sighed into your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin while his arm wraps around you, comfortably snuggling to your side, ready to drift into sleep.
„Let's just stay like that, yeah? I’m tired too.“
SATORU GOJO
This routine had become like a ritual - every time he had a rough day at work he would come home, plop right onto you on the sofa, face comfortably resting in your breasts, eyes fluttering closed.
"Rough day, hm?" Satoru hummed against your soft tits, earning a soft chuckle from you as he playfully buried his teeth into them. You took his action as a 'yes', cooing at him while petting his head. He purred, almost like a cat, enjoying your pampering. "My poor baby."
He let out a shaky breath at that, head lifting to stare into your eyes. His body moved on its own, hips stuttering into yours, growing bulge evident as it rested heavily on your heat, only departed by some clothes.
You knew he was really exhausted now, too lazy to take you to the bedroom or strip you out of your clothes. A moan left your lips as you felt his tip nudge your clit through your undergarments, one leg wrapping around his hips to draw him near you.
The low groan he let out didn't fly over your head, only edging you on and it was not long until you quickly turned him, straddling his lap as your movements pick up again.
He made himself comfortable on the couch, hand drawing lazy circles in your hips, daring you to go further, a lazy smirk on his lips as his ocean-blue orbs observed you in excitement.
"Let me do the work, alright? Just relax."
YUUTA OKKOTSU
He didn’t have a rough day because of work itself, no. It was because of you. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but think of you the whole day, growing painfully hard at the thought of you.
So when he stepped into your shared apartment and saw you in your nightgown, he fell into his sinful desires, picking you up and leading the both of you to the bedroom in one quick motion.
You giggled at his hectic antics, body lightly jumping at the contact with the soft mattress, his dark eyes quickly snapping down to where your nightgown rode up over your thigh, exposing your naked cunt. "What's gotten into you, Yuuta?"
He kneeled down, lifting your dress further up, admiring your glistening pussy before placing a sloppy kiss right onto your clit, startling you. "You baby. Thought about this perfect pussy all day. Need to taste you. Can I?"
A moan from your lips and the grip you had in his hair was answer enough for him, big grin plastered on his face before diving into his long longed meal.
He groaned into your heat once your thighs locked around his head, mind clouded in pleasure, growing dizzy.
Maybe calling in sick tomorrow would be a good idea.
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©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!
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apollosfavkiddo · 15 days
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⛧° sleepy nights - hoo boys
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⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
content: percy jackson, jason grace, leo valdez, frank zhang, luke castellan, charles beckendorf x reader - hcs on how they’d sleep with you
warnings: luke and charlie are 19
a/n: SHE’S BAAAACKK!! i’m finally not sick anymore (very questionable, but i’m definitely better) so i’m back to writing! at least i hope so. you can send your requests, preferably of not so long stuff cause i already have 5 super long drafts lol
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
now playing… sweater weather - the neighborhood
Percy Jackson
i honestly believe that he’s an awesome cuddler.
like, i just know that he likes to be the big spoon and wrap his arms around your waist and never EVER let go.
he’d totally lay his head on your shoulder and drool on it.
he plants a lot of tiny little kisses in your neck before you fall asleep.
i like to believe that he snores
but not like super loud snores and they’re not even annoying
its just super cute
and you feel so safe
he’s not super ripped, but he still has abs
so just leaning against them, warm in the night is just so soothing
he sleeps in two positions only, cuddling with you or as a starfish, with legs and arms thrown all over you and the bed
his body is naturally warm
not an uncommon warm, just normal warm
so sleeping with him is always good
whenever you sleep with him, he doesn’t want to get up to school/college the next day
he’s just too comfy to want to let go of you
and, subconsciously, he likes to trace patterns all over the exposed skin of your stomach
overall, a great person to sleep with
Jason Grace
my personal favorite for, uh, unrelated reasons
totally not because he’s literally my dream man no no
but hear me out, you won’t regret it
he’s canonically tall and muscular right
so just imagine resting against his delicious muscular chest and abs-
sorry i trailed off
ANYWAYS
he’s also a cuddler
but he’s kind of stiff in the beginning
like he’s completely touch starved
so he doesn’t really know how to act in situations like this
but the more you’re together the more he feels comfortable to cuddle and squeeze you
he loves to just pull you as close to himself as he can and bury his nose on your hair
because you just smell to good to not do that
he’s also a sweet talker
he just LOVES to whisper cute words in your ear as you’re about to fall asleep
and the first time he told you he loved you was one of these times
you were almost falling asleep in his arms and he just whispered “i love you”
you couldn’t even understand what happened until the next morning
anyways
he is the best person to sleep with
he absolutely loves when you just curl up in a ball beside him while he’s reading
he gets all fuzzy inside
he’s literally melting
he just loves you too much
Leo Valdez
look, don’t get me wrong, i love leo
but i don’t think he’d be the best cuddler in the world
for the simple reason that i think so
if u don’t like it just sush
BUT he absolutely loves to sleep on top of you with his head in your chest
i just know it
this is like super Leo Valdez of him
and you can’t tell me he doesn’t purr when you caress his hair
cause OF COURSE he does that
he’s the best person to sleep with in winter and fall, cause he keeps you warm and happy
but in the summer… not as good, i’ll have to admit
like, he’s too hot
in both senses of the word
so you just get overheated
not that you’re really complaining tho
it’s worth it
oh, and he LOVES to whisper words in spanish in your ear before sleep
if you can’t speak spanish, he’ll say… not so innocent things
our latino king fr fr
and if you can speak spanish he’ll just say how much you smell good or how pretty you are or how much he loves you-
not a cuddler, but a very good person to sleep with anyways
Frank Zhang
he’s tall and muscular
what more can i ask for my personal pillow?
oh, being a lowkey GENTLEMAN with every living being he interacts with
ok maybe that was a little bit out of context
but whatever
back to sleeping with him
if you want a best human pillow, you won’t find it
especially cause charlie died so-
i’m deeply sorry for that. not really.
he loves loves LOVES when you lay on top of him
it’s his favorite position ever
and he also loves when he can hold you
but not literally cuddle
just you laying with him, curled up against his chest but with your face to him, y’know?
i don’t know if it makes much sense
anyways
he likes to braid your hair while you’re falling asleep for you to sleep better
hazel taught him and he absolutely loves to do it in you
in the beginning of the relationship, you usually went to sleep with a dog or a cat
he was too nervous, okay? leave him alone
well, he got over it, thanks to you obviously
but sometimes he still sleeps as a dog
especially if you ask him to do it
he’ll be like “sure, if you want if” but deep down he loves it
it’s just too sooting for him when you curl up against him as a dog and pet his fur
its one of his favorite ways to sleep with you
Luke Castellan
oh, luke
i’ll never admit the uncommonly enormous crush i have on you
he’s just too hot
also i have a thing for blondes (hey jason and annabeth and a lot of other peopleee)
well, enough of me, let’s talk about this walking piece of MEAT
hehehe
he love love loves to sleep cuddled up with you
like, it’s his favorite thing in the world
the only problem (if you consider it a problem. i personally don’t) it’s because he has to sleep holding at least one of your tits
he says it makes him sleep better
technically it does, because his hands are cold and your boobs are warm
but it’s mostly because he really likes ‘em
he’s not gonna tell you that, tho
he loves when you lay on top of him and lets him caress your hair
bros seriously whipped
he’d be damned if you told him you want to sleep alone
he’ll literally become a whiny baby until you surrender
and if you don’t, the next morning he’ll be so grumpy
but that’s obviously until you give him a kiss
if the kiss doesn’t fix, another thing will
cuddles, duh
dirty mind
if you like to wake up early for morning walks, he’ll wake up and watch you get ready
but most likely never join you
Charles Beckendorf
best human pillow EVER
only god knows how much envy i felt from silena for real
he loves cuddling ofc
but it’s not his favorite way of sleeping
he’d rather much more hold you against his chest, arms and legs interlocked
because in that way he can hug, admire and kiss you anytime he wants to
i don’t know if this position makes sense help-
he loves to caress your hair and kiss your head in the process
it’s soothing for him and he knows it’s soothing for you
whenever he comes back from bunker nine super exhausted he just lays down and you hop beside him
and it’s heaven in his eyes
sometimes when things go wrong in a project he's working on he goes straight to your cabin and just stares at you
biggest puppy eyes in the world by the way
he just stares in a way like "please let me sleep here"
and who are you to say no am i right
he LOVES to snuzzle his face in your neck and breath in your scent
he just loves the way you smell
it's just too good to be true
can't take my eyes off of you
sorry i love 10 things i hate about you too much
your smell is one of his favorite things in the whole world
he's just so in love is sickening to anyone who's watching
anyways, cutie pie
a/n pt2: i'm sorry if charlie is short, but im too annoyed right now. i had to rewrite this shit five times because TUMBLR COULDNT SAVE THE FUCKING DRAFT HOLY SHIT- anyways hope u liked
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ayaboba · 4 months
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I GUESS IT WAS UNAVOIDABLE
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summary: turns out you got a cold - not to worry, your boyfriend is here!
characters: alhaitham, diluc, kazuha, wanderer.
notes: new year, new theme. wc: 1.2k total, gn! reader, petnames, angsty in diluc but it fades into fluff, thought i was real funny in wanderer’s, you’re sick.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist
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alhaitham
“Don’t look at me like that.”
You shoot him a stern look alongside your words, taking a generous sip of the warm honey water swirling in your favourite mug. Its comforting warmth immediately eases the sharp pain in your throat down to a low throb, as its aftertaste proves sweeter than the concoction yesterday night.
Alhaitham assesses you from the foot of your shared bed, his face a mixture of contemplative, exasperated, and amused. How rare, your predicament must be concerning enough to expand Alhaitham's devastatingly frugal palette of emotions. What an honour.
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he mutters, letting out an exasperated sigh. “It’s up to your interpretation of how I look at you, actually.”
Despite his sharp tongue and the knowledge that he’s pickpocketed this debate, leaving you nothing but suffocating gloom, the anxious face staring upon yours shows nothing but genuine worry.
“Your fever is easing,” Alhaitham notes, his voice trailing off as he watches your body shake from a particularly violent cough. “Although, I strongly suggest that you go back to sleep.”
If the cold hadn’t snatched your usual, more energised self, leaving this crippling state equivalent to lying on your deathbed (it really wasn't), then you wouldn’t have second’s hesitation in replying with a sharp response contrasting whatever Alhaitham just said.
But right now, with the decorative array of warm lights illuminating the room, it casts a spell on your tired senses as the slow song of sleep cradles you away.
diluc
No amount of your most persuasive chants is able to coax that stupid idea away from him.
Dawn Winery was one of the many sponsors for Monstadt’s annual winter markets, an exquisite yearly event composing of streets after streets lined with cosy stalls lit with soft fairy lights, late nights sprinkled with the frosty taste of freshly fallen snow as everyone stayed up as late as the moon’s guidance, laughter and cheer dancing through the night.
Wasn’t it only obvious that the stall’s demand was going to skyrocket?
Wasn’t it obvious that you would think of assisting, even if it led to seeing the cracks of dawn?
That’s what you argued earlier, about twenty minutes ago, as if you were more concerned with his rationality than your spiralling fatigue. Which, to be frank, you were.
His hand was intertwined with yours, desperately tight, strong like the gaze falling from those eyes, rimmed with the reasoning for empty tissue boxes. Those hands were squeezing an ailment into the emptiness of your veins, leaving his desolate. And that’s when you snapped. How could he give it his all if he gave it all away?
Even when you cried, even when you yelled, even when you were on the verge of giving up, Diluc never once faltered; he adapted each time to defy what gnawed you, and perhaps he will go with these silent battles to win the golden hope restorative for you both.
Midnight. That same hand clambers up, searching for yours, finally finding it and squeezing it once, for you. Only this time you squeeze it back, twice.
kazuha
Those lacy curtains awaken a myriad of joyous senses, the strengthening sunshine warmly caressing the surface of your skin, leaving a glistening glow, while the tickling breeze drifts away the last of your drowsiness through the window.
What a beautiful day, you notice as you stretch the aching muscles in your neck and shoulders. The simple sight of sunshine releases a blossoming feeling of positivity that is likely going to be engraved into the roots of your day.
As you finish up with the basic stretches and shuffle on to tackle your shared bed, taking the covers in hand and connecting them to their respective corners, something on your bedside table catches your eye.
You were mere thoughts away from the impending decision to investigate, and this part you’d like to blame Kazuha for his chosen timing to start prepping breakfast.
Not just any typical breakfast, you might add. Your favourite.
It’s instantly recognisable from the first delicate wafts seeping into the bedroom. And it’s not exactly an exaggeration when you admit that your body and mind halted. Completely ceased, flabbergasted personified.
That peculiar guest on your nightstand was all forgotten the moment you stepped foot into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sunshine,” a particular poet smiles over as you take a seat opposite the counter.
“Feeling better? I left the last of your cough medication on your bedside table so you’d remember to take it.”
He passes the plate, the masterpiece of the morning by far, almost too perfect to eat.. but then it all comes flooding in. Starting off with a few waves in the form of muffled words, and then the tsunami hits, the biggest wave, the recollection of memories.
"Ah..." is all you reply with.
Kazuha lets out a good-natured chuckle, subtly surveying you as he does. “Well, it doesn’t look like you need it, anyway.”
wanderer
One of the most eminent traits about your boyfriend was his determination—no, stubbornness—when it came to things that really shouldn’t concern him, especially if they sincerely nettled him so much. So simple that it confounded you why it never occurred to him to try and mind his own business for once. You frequently muttered under your breath how his behaviour reminded you of some toxic grandma living down the street.
Additionally, he should consider that you’re a human. A human who experienced things every other human did, for example, colds. Inevitable and terrible, but everyone had them.
Therefore, he shouldn’t treat it too seriously.
Yet here he is, sleeping in the same bed, under the same covers, just a ghost of a touch away. Promptly declining your polite request that he should spend the night in the spare bedroom as you felt particularly sniffly and probably needed a tissue permanently attached to your nose for the night.
Sleep was playing an eternal game of tag, teasing you. You don’t know what time it is, but it must be late. You’ve finished many seasons of your delusional scenarios and are now left bare of anything to entertain until dreams pulled you into its whirlpools.
The rims of your eyes water as you attempt to hold in that itching cough, blinking the tears back, but it felt like a million deluxe feathers each performing acrobatics in your throat.
“You should probably let out that cough. You’re starting to look like you’re having a breakdown.”
With more strength than anticipated, you snap to face him, but not after letting out that wheezing cough that more or less rearranges your skeletal structure. His pretty face nodding sombrely into yours.
“I’m fine,” you burst.
“And I’m the Dendro Archon,” he acknowledged, passing you a tissue. “Have you not slept at all?”
“It’s playing a game of tag,” you sniff, with a tone that conveyed, you’re not going to get it.
“Just run faster,” he recommended, pulling you into his chest before you even have the chance to process what he just said.
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hirsheyskisses · 8 months
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OP Boys: Special Hugs (#1)
Luffy & Zoro
(Short Scenario)
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Monkey D. Luffy
☆ Honestly, he's a hugger. Let's be real here, Maybe not like, the INSTANT he meets you, but the moment you are on his crew (trust me.. you'll get on the crew..) you are one of the many subjects of his physical contact
☆ a lot of times it may come off as way too energetic, arms being thrown around you or pulling you around, man's has no sense of a personal bubble
☆ but it gets (worse? Better? You don't know) when feelings get involved. If he didn't make it blatantly obvious he liked you, then you're either the densest person on the planet, or Luffy is horrible at flirting
☆ Let's be real here, it's probably both
☆ There is no escaping at that point.
"Hey! Where'd (Name) go?!"
Luffy questioned. He'd been searching on the Sunny forever, yet he couldn't find you! He'd checked the kitchen, your room, the pantry, the crows nest..
"(Name)? I think they're down in the medical bay with Chopper. They looked a bit under the weather." Nami didn't even spare him a glance: she was so focused on her map he was partially surprised she answered. But that was fine, because Luffy was focused too!
"(NAME)-"
He threw open the door to the medical bay, only to find you on the bed and leaning against the wall. Chopper looked up frantically and put his paws up, "they're sick! You shouldn't come in here-" "hey, Luffy." You rasped, and offered him a weak smile. Luffy completely ignored Choppers advice and ran to your side, protectively wrapping his arms around you.
"You're sickkkk? That sucks.. Chopper will make ya feel better though! Should we give them some meat?!"
You chuckled as you attempted to remove yourself from his grasp while Chopper sighed, "no, they need soft food! And you should leave Luffy, or you may get sick too!"
As if for the strict purpose of defying Chopper, his grip only tightened. "No! They need comfort.."
It wasn't as though you were complaining, his warmth was nice..
So Chopper made you up some medicine, after having giving up trying to make Luffy leave, and left the two of you.
"(Name).. you need anything?"
"No.. thank you."
His voice held genuine concern and your heart ached, knowing just how much the Captain cared for you. After a moment, you snuggled in closer. "'S cold." You slurred, arms wrapping around his torso whilst your head buried into his chest.
He took the hint, arm stretching across the room to grab an extra blanket. His hands worked the blanket around your body until you were tucked like a happy burrito, leaving him and you satisfied.
"..thanks, Luffy."
"Shishishishi! Anytime!" He laughed, taking his hat off and plopping it on your head.
Luffy began to talk for hours, about adventures they'd had before you'd join the crew, excitedly re-telling fights and funny stories from the crew. For a while, you were distracted from the discomfort of sickness, until you and him both fell asleep.
...it's safe to say he'd demand more cuddles after that. (Somehow.. he just doesn't get sick..l
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Roronoa Zoro
♡ to be perfectly frank, he's not that much of a hugger. He's only hugged two crewmates, and that's Chopper and Luffy. Even for those two, its a rarity.
♡ but having been on the crew since the near beginning, your friendship with zoro was beginning to have a bit more connection than he ever intended to have.
♡ so came fourth of him asking (almost forcing) you to nap with him. At first, you just sat next to him, not really sleeping.
♡ honestly it was kinda funny. You'd both pretend to be asleep so the crew would give you guys some- half peace for a bit. You used to think it was dumb, but seeing as all the others (save for Nami) believed it, well..
♡ it became tradition
♡ sometimes when you both were a little down, he'd give you an awkward side hug, always looking so flustered afterwards, and it's just the cutest
♡ however, he soon finds a type of hug he really likes..
"That was some fight."
Zoro grunted, and you nodded in agreement. You two were the first to head back to the Sunny, to make sure it wasn't unattended for too long. Seeing as Zoro had no injuries and yours were very minor, you were best suited for the job.
"I'm beat, though. Those marines just kept coming.."
"You did good out there."
He replied, plopping on the deck and motioning for you to do the same, and you did. Sitting besides Zoro with a wince, "I let the one get a good hit on me.. need to work on that." You rubbed your side, and he glanced at you, "you can train with me later." He laid a hand on your head, smiling at you. Oh, that handsome swordsman has your heart, and you poked his cheek. "You better not go easy on me!" "Wouldn't dream of it, (Name)."
"I'm definitely going to be a sore fucker tomorrow, though."
He snickered and ruffled your hair, and you stuck your tongue out at him, "you won't let it happen again. That's all that matters- pain is a learning experience."
"Yeah yeah, ya old wise man."
"I am not old!"
"Yuh-huh, that's what an old person would say."
"Says the one complaining about aches in their bones-"
"I got hit by a very, very large stick-"
"...did you forget the word for staff?"
"...shut up, Mossbrain."
His mouth opened in a yawn, and you half followed suit. The bantering slowly subsided, and his hands unconsciously dropped to your shoulder, then slid down your back, holding you to his side.
If he did that intentionally, he didn't show it. His eyes had long since shut, and you were very familiar with how quickly he could conk out. A few moments of hesitation held you, before you wrapped your arms around his torso, a leg over his, and snuggled into his chest. His other arm moved to hold you, and,
"Ya better not plan on moving anytime soon.."
Lucky for him, you didn't.
So this became his favorite cool down after a fight.
Nami however, was not thrilled that the two people who were supposed to watch the ship fell asleep. RIP.
979 notes · View notes
lyriclvr · 4 months
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MILES MORALES 1610 X READER
Masterlist: here ➼
Pairing: Miles Morales x sweet girlfriend ᥫ᭡
Synopsis: Headcanons of miles (1610) and his sweet girlfriend who he is absolutely obsessed with and whipped for!
Genre: fluff + slight angst
Word count: 801
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➳ Miles morales loveees quality time with the people who loves, and especially with you. If you arent laid up at his house chilling while watching him play video games, you were probably out exploring the city of New York with eachother.
➳ Miles Morales definitely likes hugs. You know, the kinds of hugs where he can smell your perfume and become so lost in the scent that he'll still be able to smell it when you let go of him. The kind of hugs where your soft and warm body is pressed against his, and he just feels like he's at home.
"can i have one more hug ma? ion wanna let you go yet.." he'll mutter before slowly bringing you closer to him.
➳ Miles morales who is always scouting for you. When he's at school, he's looking through hallways just to get a glimpse of you. during nightly patrols, he swings by your houses and glances into your window hoping to see you peacefully sleeping in the security of your home. When he knows that you are, he finally feels okay.
"Thank god shes alright" He whispers to himself before swinging back around the city.
➳ Miles Morales definitely loves when you plays with his hair. He loves feeling your soft fingers softly massaging his scalp while you tell him all the things you did that day, or just things that you want to do in the future. Whatever it is, he loves hearing it just because *you're* the one talking.
"Mhm, tell me more mama" he'll mumble while slowly falling asleep in your arms.
➳ Miles Morales likes kisses! Kisses on his neck, jaw, or cheeks just make him fold everytime. You can definitely expect makeout sessions to frank ocean or the weeknd playing in the background of his dark room, one of his hands draped around your waist and the other in your hair or cupping your cheeks.
➳ Miles Morales who hates arguing with you. He doesn't like leaving any conversation on a bad note, especially after Uncle Aarons death. He just feels like any moment could be the last he spends with you, so he tries to make the most out of any and every conversation he has with you.
➳ Miles Morales who sometimes has his days where all he thinks about is Uncle Aaron. He comes to your house, enters your room without even knocking with low eyes and a tense body. You immediately rush to him, giving him kisses and multiple hugs while reminding him that his uncle would be so proud of him.
He doesn't say anything in reponse in that moment, but you know he's grateful that he can always rely on you in situations like these.
➳ Miles Morales who sometimes calls you late at night holding back tears, especially when he hasn't had much time to see you because of spidey-business. He constantly goes on mute so you won't hear him sniffling, but you can always tell.
He just misses his sweet girl so much, and feels like he isn't doing enough to make time for her. You always remind him that he's always enough, and forever will be.
"I-I dont know. I just..." he pauses, trying to find the right words to say."I just miss you, that's all. I feel like we dont spend as much time as we should..and its my fault you know?".
➳ Miles Morales who helps you study. Sometimes, you feel really stupid around him. You're smart, but you dont feel like you're smart in the same way he is. It seems like he always knows the answers to everything, while you struggle with answering even the most basic of questions. He reassures you that you are smart, and probably even more so than he is. It doesn't convince you though, so he makes time after school to help you study and do homework with him. Really though, its just an excuse to hang out with you.
"See ma? You aren't stupid. You just need to stop doubting yourself. Podrías ser mucho mejor que yo si simplemente crees en ti mismo." He'll tell you, pulling you in for a hug as he plants soft kisses all over your face.
➳ Miles Morales who gives you the first and last bites of his food. If you have problems with eating, he'll always reassure you that your body is fine just that way it is, and encourage you to eat with him.
"Say ah.." he'll urge, holding a spoon full of the pozole his mother had made just a few hours prior.
➳ Miles Morales will always win the 'i love you more' game. No matter how much you try to argue that you love him the most, he knows that it'll always be the opposite. Its just no topping his love for you.
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+ credits to @across-the-art-verse for the borders ☁︎!!
#tags #milesmorales #milesmoralesupremacy #milesmoralesfluff #acrossthespiderverse !!
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agirlcandream84 · 10 days
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Somehow, More Boyfriend!Frank Headcanons
Cliche as it is, Frank's gonna kill all the bugs in the apartment. When you encounter a colossal winged something in the kitchen and start screeching and grabbing for the closest thing (a frying pan) to smash it but dancing around it because you're too afraid to get close, Frank comes charging in thinking you're being attacked and instead gives you a look like "really sweetheart?" and then literally scoops you by the waist with one hand so you're nearly dangling by his side while he smashes the gross thing with a bare palm and then flicks it out the window.
Few things make Frank Castle cry but after a day of babysitting your niece together and watching endless episodes of Bluey, you catch him with his eyes all watery, absolutely hooked to the TV. It's quite a sight-- your one year old niece happily babbling away with her toys but Frank is the one glued to the TV, the giant tearing up while he's still got scraped knuckles and a healing black eye from a recent encounter. You ask, "Frank... are you.. crying?" and he makes to wipe his eye quick saying, "Course I am! You see this shit sweetheart? That'll tear your heart out."
Frank is super tuned into your little routines, knowing you get crabby or stressed when things don't run just so and now he's become a routine-tracker, gently lifting you from the couch when you've fallen asleep at night saying "Come on honey, I know you don't wanna sleep with your makeup on. Gotta get your lotions and stuff on baby" and helping you to the bathroom.
After Frank was at the gym or just with a bunch of guys in general he'd come home and beeline right to you, plant a kiss on your lips and then plant his nose on the top of your head and inhale all deep, has hands landing right on your ass, claiming he just needed the soft clean feel of you. Frank wasn't going soft per se, he could still hold his own in any situation, but he came to appreciate the comfort of your soft skin and the smell of your shampoo after he'd been with a a bunch of stinky, loud, scratchy, hideous guys too long.
Frank is DEFINITELY a morning sex kind of guy. He's already pressed against you all night, the big spoon to your little, and its more often than not that your feel the growing press of him as your stir awake, his hand snaking around to cup your tit and play gently with your nipples. Instantly you're whining and Frank is murmuring "shhh shhh honey, gonna make it feel better," as he tugs down your sleep shorts and fucks you slow and lazy from behind. As a result, he's begun convincing you to just sleep nude from the get-go since you're gonna end up that way.
Speaking of sex, Frank loved to make you work juuuust a bit before he'd ultimately take over. You're in his lap, already full of him, slowing down from the effort, and he's all "ah ah, come on sweetheart, I know you can do it," with his hands on your hips, helping you rock back and forth. When the pinkness starts to hit your cheeks and you're huffing in effort, Frank is quick to take over and he's doing ALL the work from there on out.
Frank is adorably inept at technology, often grumpily tossing his phone aside and mumbling "piece of shit" when he can't figure something out. He only keeps the damn thing because he wants to check in on you otherwise he'd have ditched it long ago. One time you sent him a meme and he's like "the fuck is that sweetheart?" and you're just like "don't worry about it Frankie"
Frank loved you wearing quite literally everything, and nothing, but the site of you in a cottagecore dress?? He was FERAL. Like a caged animal. He claimed they always made your boobs look fantastic and he was like a teenager when you had them on-- just constantly battling the bugle in his pants and bending you over a table the MOMENT you got back home.
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florapal · 11 months
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enchanted to meet you.
welcome home ! / ot8 x human!reader , can be seen as romantic or platonic.
what they like abt u <333
no warnings.
first welcome home writing piece ever ... I hope you little tulips enjoy<3 inspired by so many human readers I've seen n read !
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humanity.
that was what made you different from your neighbors— your humanity. your flesh, and your bone, and every blood vessel you had— every vein, every nail, every tooth and every beat of your heart— it made you different. they were made of felt. they had nothing but stuffing in their bodies, they were literally puppets. they didn't need almost everything you did— food, toothbrushes, skincare (probably). water made them sink so deep into the ground, they could barely move.
but you— you were vastly different from them, and you naturally— knew more. they came to you for most of their endeavors; even the smartest neighbor, your predecessor— frank frankly— came to you once in a while.
they asked you about what it was like , how it was like , to be a human. why did you need this? why did you need that? what would happen if [...]? what would never happen? curiosity, curiosity, curiosity. you couldn't blame them, either, seeing as you were equally curious about the world around you. this foreign world that you, like, literally dreamed of— you dreamed about this world so often, that you theorize its what got you sent here in the first place. a gap made in the multiverse, you theorize, opened during your sleep. until then, you had been an overseer, not directly interacting with anyone from the neighborhood.
it must've taken one gap in space. one lapse in time, in the order of the universe. one thing to confuse your conscience, and in turn confused your senses. your dream felt real, now, as a familiar voice called to you— and you opened your eyes.
wally darling.
you freaked out a bit, after that.
who wouldn't? who wouldn't, in such worlds like this one.
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the sky shines brighter here.
everything's brighter, to be fair.
even you are.
surrounded by constant support & love , comforted and relied on— you don't believe yourself deserving of this, but they do.
poppy partridge is, no joke, a mother hen. poppy is the first to offer housing, to offer nutrition and to offer company— she cares, she cares, and she cares some more. she finds herself running a wing down your hair , entranced by every strand and every split end. counting each strand you have eases her , to some extent. it helps her cool down, just as her presence in general helps you cool down.
julie joyful is as joyful as her surname suggests. she takes your hand without fear, she doesn't hesitate to know you— she pushes you to talk about yourself , even. she finds herself interested in your fingers. she fiddles with them unconsciously, intrigued by every callous, intrigued by every line on your palm— intrigued by your nails. she traces the lines on your palms absentmindedly — uncharacteristically quiet as she listens to you talk about your world.
barnaby b. beagle makes you laugh the moment you meet him. all it takes is a clever punch line , and you're giggling like mad— and barnaby prides himself on the fact he is able to make you laugh. he is curious about your smile— for the first time he saw it, he saw a row of white pearls shining up at him. it looked like a treasure chest being opened, as weird as it sounded. barnaby only hopes that he'll make you smile each and every day— he wouldn't know what he'd do if he saw your teeth gritting— be it in anger, or sadness. he hopes he never will know.
eddie dear is your pen pal who delivers his letters himself. in these letters, you tell him of your hobbies and your pet peeves, your no's and your yes', your dos and don'ts. you tell him everything, and in turn, he tells you everything aswell. can you blame him if he is enamored by how you speak? like, literally, how you speak. he does, indeed, find your voice calming— something he must savour. but he cannot fathom the fact you don't need a voice box, and whenever you speak— your neck?? vibrates?? he is eager to learn about human anatomy! it'd be even better from you, as sadly, what you say is almost always on paper.
sally starlet is in her prime theater kid era, as you said. you stated it once and she has never let it go. yes, she is infact in her prime ! she enjoys the thrill , the applause and the fun ! she's also, however, thrilled by your ideas. you, as someone from another world, bring such wonderful things onto the table that— in her brilliance, she makes possible. she wonders if the sun is inside of you, for your ideas brighten up every day she lives. yes, tell her more about your little disney movies, she's taking notes and planning to create another to add into that category! the best one yet! perhaps you could be the lead?
howdy pillar is , in your words , a funky dude with nice arms. he appreciates the compliment. the supplier of most of the towns goods, he gets in good business— but he thinks whenever you're there, he gets better business! your drive is contagious, and he wants to get more things done when you're in his vicinity. you motivate him unknowingly to better his shop, as you better your situation in this neighborhood. he's proud of you, neighbor, he hopes you are of him too.
frank frankly is fascinated with you. he seems to be interested in your knowledge of insects , but he seems to be interested in your general knowledge too. you know more than he does , been out and about more than he's been— seen more bugs than he has, you are literally from a different world— a world he wants to know all about. there is so much going on in your brilliant mind, every time you converse— he believes he's only ever receiving a morsel of your intellect. perhaps you'd be free tomorrow, to meet up and to engage in intellectual things?
wally darling is intrigued. he hears a beat in your chest, he says, and you nod. he places a hand on your chest, over your heart, and it beats. he looks at you in awe. he doesn't know what this is, but it is part of you, and if it's part of you— it's aweworthy. this mindset goes for every part of you— all of you is beautiful to him. however, he must say, he enjoys the way your eyes crease whenever you smile. eyes are windows to the soul, you told him, and he couldn't agree more— especially the moment your eyes sparkled when he told you he loved you. how did you interpret this ? you did not know, all you know is that you love him too.
each puppet finds solace in you, as cliché as it sounds. as different as you are from them, flesh & bone to felt & fur , they can not deny that, just as they were with every neighbor,
they were enchanted to meet you.
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assets / pinterest ♡ property of florauna, 2023
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bellaxgiornata · 1 month
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Neighbors [Chapter 2]
Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k
[Series Chapter List and Summary]
Warnings/tags: 18+; contains friends to lovers, violence, fluff, eventual smut, angst
a/n: Chapter two is finally up! I know many of you have been asking for it, so hopefully you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mycobrakai1972 @stilllivindue2spite @luvr-bunnyy @pone21  @sleepysleepymom @urlocalgeek @buckysvinyl @ragamuffin285 @lollulroofl @hazallem @hellooooooooooooooo @kezibear
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Chin resting in your hand, you sat at a corner table by one of the large windows in Common Grounds skimming over the documents on your laptop. A half finished latte was on the table beside you–the second one you’d had since you opened the shop about an hour ago now. 
The deadline for filing taxes was just around the corner and here you were still needing to get everything finalized and officially sent in before it was considered late. Since Jaime had dropped Lily off at preschool this morning and you didn’t need to pick her up until the afternoon, you figured now was the best time to finish the frustrating and tedious task that you’d been repeatedly putting off. It wasn't often that you had free moments where you weren’t watching Lily or dealing with something at the coffee shop, so this morning while you were free you figured you’d try to finish working on it–even if you’d rather have been back home sleeping in before eventually making your way into the shop.
With your focus fixed on your laptop, you weren't remotely paying attention to whoever had walked in through the front door of Common Grounds, even if your ears had vaguely registered Allison’s usual friendly greeting from behind the counter while you worked. The typical morning rush at the coffee shop had ended about fifteen minutes ago and you’d long since stopped paying attention to every occasional straggler that passed through the door. 
Left hand absently sliding along the table to grab your honey lavender latte, you reread one of the lines on your laptop’s screen, trying to make sense of all the frustrating tax language. Drawing the mug up to your lips for another drink, you tried to focus on the section you were currently reading, but your concentration was easily interrupted by a familiar, deep voice suddenly ordering by the register.
“Just a large coffee, black.”
Almost automatically your eyes slid over the top of your laptop, landing on the sight of none other than your new neighbor, Frank. His back was facing you as he pulled his card out of his wallet before sliding it through the card reader and paying for his drink. He was wearing his dark jacket again this morning and a pair of dark wash jeans. His expression looked fairly neutral this time from what you could see from the profile of his face–he wasn't smiling but he didn't look nearly as surly as when you’d first seen him yesterday, either. 
Behind the counter, Allison sent him another friendly smile before turning around and beginning to make his coffee. As he slipped his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, your eyes followed the movement of his hands, admittedly lingering on a particular part of him for a moment longer than necessary as his hands returned to his sides. 
I wonder if he works out , you caught yourself thinking.
The memory of Frank crouching down to talk to your niece last night flashed through your mind as your gaze gradually slid its way up his back and towards his face again. You remembered the unexpected warm and friendly smile that had taken you by surprise when he’d accepted the cookies from Lily as you sat there. The memory of it began stirring up those confusing feelings inside of you once more. He certainly hadn’t turned out to be what you’d expected, at least after that second interaction you’d now had with him. You found yourself wondering if Cora was right, maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. Maybe you'd just caught him in a bad mood yesterday morning.
You saw him begin to turn and make his way towards the end of the counter where customers picked up their orders and your eyes immediately darted back down to your laptop. Ducking your head, you pretended you were intensely focused on your laptop screen, desperately hoping he hadn’t caught you staring at him. You’d already embarrassed yourself enough with him thanks to Lily pointing out that you’d called him the grumpy man from the coffee shop, you didn’t need him to catch you ogling him next. That would certainly make things even more embarrassing and uncomfortable at this point.
“Are you always here?”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you froze in your chair. Hand curling tighter around the handle of your coffee mug, you felt your body tense at the sound of his voice clearly directed at you. Considering how uninterested he’d been in small talk just yesterday morning, you figured he’d grab his coffee in silence and leave. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d actually try to strike up a conversation with you, especially with him having a clear out because you obviously looked preoccupied at the table. He could’ve easily just grabbed his drink and left, ignoring you entirely.
Slowly your eyes shifted over towards Frank. He was leaning against the coffee shop counter, one of his elbows resting along it as his head cocked just a bit to the side, his eyes slightly narrowed as he studied you. One corner of his mouth was curled up just a fraction in something almost like a smile as he waited for you to respond. Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore the frenzied beating of your heart at the sudden attention from him.
“Usually,” you answered. “Sort of comes with being the owner of the place.” 
Both of his dark brows rose marginally onto his forehead in something like surprise. You fought back the feeling of pride within you at his reaction. Though Frank quickly recovered, the look of surprise shifting into a smile that was almost as warm as the one you’d seen on his face last night when he was talking to Lily.
“Is that so?” he asked curiously. “You own this place?”
You shrugged lightly in response, your eyes catching sight of Allison’s head darting up from over his shoulder, staring at you from behind the counter. She was pouring the freshly brewed coffee for him into a to-go cup with a look of stunned disbelief on her face. 
“Nearest Starbucks is about twenty minutes from here,” you said, focusing back on Frank and trying to ignore Allison behind him as she began frantically mouthing things to you. “Besides grabbing a cup of coffee from one of the local fast food joints, there really aren’t many options around here. Figured the town could use a coffee shop, so I opened one.”
Frank nodded his head, his eyes still on you. They looked far more friendly than they had yesterday morning when he’d been sizing you up, that was for sure.
“Yeah, I noticed that,” he replied. “Sorta the only place to go ‘round here for a good cup of coffee it seems.”
Unable to fight back a triumphant grin, it spread wide over your lips at his compliment. “Guess it just means you’re stuck with me while you’re here then,” you told him. When a brow curiously arched up onto his forehead at your comment, you quickly added on, “For coffee. Since there’s nowhere else to really grab a cup that doesn’t taste like burnt garbage in this town, I mean.”
Allison headed over to the counter with his cup of coffee in hand, setting it down onto the surface near where he was leaning. Her eyes were darting curiously back and forth between the pair of you now. 
Frank ducked his head, chuckling a little before he pushed off of the counter. “Guess your right,” he agreed. “Looks like we're both stuck with each other then.” 
He reached over, picking up his coffee from the counter while offering Allison a polite ‘thank you’ as he did. Her eyes grew wide when he’d turned back around to face you, her dumbstruck gaze focusing on his back. You had a feeling there were a plethora of questions already forming in her mind that you’d be hearing the moment he left. 
Frank nodded his head once towards you. “You have a good day now,” he said. “S’pose I’ll be seeing you again real soon, though.”
Something warm fluttered in your chest as he turned, making his way towards the coffee shop exit. As he walked, drawing his to-go cup up to his lips for a drink, your brain fumbled to form a coherent thought. You only briefly recovered just as he opened the door to the coffee shop.
“You too!” you called out.
He was out the door with a small grin on his mouth, turning and making his way down the sidewalk and away from your shop without a backwards glance. Your eyes followed the back of him as he went, your mind reeling at the emotional whiplash of interacting with him once more. He definitely wasn't what you'd initially expected and you had no idea what to make of that.
Allison’s fingers loudly snapping in front of your face broke you from your staring seconds later and you jumped in your chair. Eyes flying over towards her, you saw her standing beside your table.
“Spill,” she said immediately. “What the hell was that complete one-eighty about?”
“I–I don’t know,” you stammered, watching as Allison plopped into the chair across from you. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”
“Well something must have happened,” she pressed, “because yesterday morning that man was all moody and rude, now today he's actually striking up small talk? Flirting with you?”
Cheeks heating, you focused back on your cup of coffee. You picked it up, bringing it up to your lips as you shook your head. “He wasn’t flirting, Ally,” you told her. “I think he was just being friendly.”
“Uh huh,” she said, waving the idea off with a dismissive hand. “So you must’ve run into him again since yesterday morning with the way he was talking to you. What happened? I want details.”
Drinking down some of your coffee, your eyes darted back down towards your laptop. You really needed to finish your taxes, but you had a feeling Allison wouldn't stop asking questions until you answered her. Figuring it'd just be easier to tell her about last night and move on, you released a soft sigh.
“You know that duplex next to mine that's been vacant for awhile?” you asked, lowering the mug to the table. “The one Cora has been struggling to fill?”
Allison nodded. “Yes, I remember,” she answered. “She said the other day she found a tenant when she’d come in for a coffee.”
You pointed a finger out the shop's window in the direction which Frank had walked off in. Though he'd since disappeared now, having turned a corner or gotten into his truck.
“That was him,” you told her. 
Allison’s eyes grew wide as she audibly gasped. “What?” she asked in surprise. “ That beautiful man is your neighbor?”
Laughing lightly, you nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s just him. Lily was with me when Cora was telling me about him moving in the other day, so she'd had this idea to bake him cookies to welcome him to the neighborhood.”
“She’s always such a sweet kid,” Allison mused aloud. 
“Mhmm,” you agreed. “Thing is, she wanted to make cookies like we did for Valentine’s Day. You remember those?”
Allison burst into a laugh, throwing a hand over her mouth as she quickly tried to stifle the noise. She didn’t succeed and you couldn't resist grinning and laughing a little yourself at the memory of your own shock at who'd opened the door to receive those cookies. 
“You mean to tell me,” Allison began, still trying to quell her laughter, “that you dropped off pretty heart cookies to that guy yesterday?”
“Yep,” you told her, still grinning. “They were pink and covered in sprinkles. Lily even insisted on using one of those Valentine’s Day plates for them. So of course I had to bring her over to deliver them with me because there was no way in hell I was going to do that alone.”
A snort of amusement left Allison before she bit her lip, shaking her head. You couldn't help laughing a little more yourself.
“You should have seen my face when it was him that opened the door,” you continued. “I was certain he was going to be an asshole. Throw the cookies on the ground or belittle Lily and I. But he was…surprisingly friendly. Even took a few minutes to talk to Lily and thank her for them. I practically had to drag her away before she could volunteer us to bake him cinnamon rolls next.”
Allison’s smile grew even wider, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Sounds like someone is doing a little matchmaking,” she teased, shooting you a wink.
You rolled your eyes, glancing back down at your laptop. “She's four, Ally,” you pointed out. “She was just being friendly. Besides, he's my neighbor.”
“Which makes it even easier for him to pop over for late night booty calls,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Your eyes flew up over the screen of your laptop, landing on Ally as they widened. She laughed at the look on your face, rising up from her chair as the door to the shop opened once again. 
“That's bordering on very inappropriate work talk,” you quickly scolded her. “And that's the end of this topic of conversation, I think.”
“Uh huh,” she replied, a knowing smile on her lips as she made her way back towards the register. “Sure it is, boss.”
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The moment the panicked cries met your ears, your eyes flew open and consciousness quickly returned to you. Pushing yourself up in your bed, you frantically began throwing the sheets off of yourself when you heard Lily’s distressed voice calling out for you in between the loud sobs that were coming from down the hall. It didn’t take Penny long to climb out of her dog bed at the noise, bolting out of the room before you’d barely managed to stand upright.
“I’m coming, Lily!” you called out to her.
Fighting back the fog of sleep you’d just abruptly woken from, you made your way out of your bedroom and crossed the few steps down the hall towards the room you’d long since turned into Lily’s for the night’s Jaime worked at the bar. Stepping into the room, you spotted her sitting up in her bed and clutching her stuffed husky version of Penny to her chest. The nightlight across the room cast her in a soft, pink glow as the real Penny sat beside her bed, her head resting along the mattress.
“Hey,” you greeted her softly, making your way over towards the edge of the bed to sit. “What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”
Lily nodded her head quickly as soft sobs continued to fall from her lips. You could see the damp tear streaks on her cheeks in the dim light, the sight twisting your heart in your chest. You hated ever seeing anything but a smile on her face. Opening your arms to her in offer of comfort, she immediately lunged forward across the bed and wrapped her small arms around you in a hug. You held her tight in return, rocking her gently against you.
“I’m sorry, coffee bean,” you whispered. “It was only a dream though. It wasn’t real and it can’t hurt you. And you've got Penny and I here with you.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” she whispered back, her little voice cracking from where her face was buried against your shoulder. “Don’t make me sleep, Nini, please?”
You sighed, eyelids slowly lowering as you continued to hold her against you. It must’ve been a real bad dream if she was saying that tonight. Often you wondered what her bad dreams were about when she had them, though you’d never pushed for an answer. Though by now you knew there was only one guaranteed way to get the bad dream out of her mind so she’d go back to sleep tonight and not keep you both awake all night long. You found yourself grateful that it wasn’t winter anymore.
“Do you want to go sit outside for a minute?” you asked her. “Look at the stars and calm down?”
She nodded her head against your shoulder, sniffling slightly. One of your hands lightly patted her back.
“Alright, let’s go grab our coats and shoes,” you said. 
Reluctantly she released you, though one of her little hands quickly found yours while the other still gripped her stuffed husky. Both of you slid off of the bed and made your way out of the room and down the short hallway towards the stairs. Penny dutifully followed along after the pair of you.
There was a few minutes of silence as you and Lily slipped your shoes and coats on in the front entryway of the living room before you both made your way through the kitchen and over towards the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. As you unlocked the door, your gaze landed over on Penny who was now wagging her tail behind you, excited about the prospect of going outside. 
“Uh uh,” you told her, shaking your head. “You slipped your collar a couple of nights ago and I don’t feel like chasing after you around the whole neighborhood at two in the morning. So you’re staying inside.”
Penny grumbled back at you, swinging her head around in a circle in her husky equivalent of an eye roll. You figured she was probably upset at hearing the word ‘stay’ mixed into what you’d said. But you shook your head again at her, too tired to even want to think about her slipping her collar and sneaking her way out of the old and worn wooden fence that surrounded the yard right now. 
“All your own doing, girl,” you told her. “Don’t like it? Stop sneaking out of the yard and making me chase after you. Until then, you stay put.”
With another irritated and prolonged grumble, Penny slowly lowered herself down onto the kitchen floor. Lily giggled lightly at your stubborn dog as you focused back on the door, pulling it open and stepping outside with her hand once more holding onto yours. Though as you both stepped out onto the patio, you quickly noticed you weren’t alone in the backyard. 
On the small neighboring patio next to yours, you spotted Frank sitting in one of the patio chairs with his legs kicked out before him, his solemn gaze fixed up above on the night sky, one of his hands absently running across his mouth. But he quickly snapped out of his thoughts seconds later when he registered the sound of your back door having slid open. His head turned over his shoulder towards the pair of you where you’d stopped frozen in your tracks.
“Sorry,” you apologized quickly, uncertain of what else to say. “I didn’t see you out here, we didn’t mean to bother you.”
Frank’s eyes dropped down onto Lily beside you, her hand still holding tight to yours while the other clutched her stuffed husky to her chest. You noticed the way his gaze softened instantly when he’d focused on her, probably noticing her red puffy eyes from having just been crying. 
“‘S’alright,” he replied, his gaze sliding back up to you. “Not just my backyard.”
Drawing his feet in towards himself, he began to rise out of his chair. You winced, feeling bad for practically kicking him out of the space he’d been in first. But he’d barely risen to his feet before the sound of Lily’s voice stopped him.
“I had a bad dream,” she said softly. “Do you get bad dreams, Frank?”
Frank froze halfway out of his chair, a muscle twitching in his cheek as the moonlight above illuminated his face. Your brows knitted faintly together as you watched his entire body tense at her question. Gradually his attention fixed back onto your niece, his eyes a confusing mix of emotions that your tired brain couldn’t quite read.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I do.”
Something about the heavy tone in which he’d answered her had caught your attention. His words felt like a loaded answer, one with more meaning behind it that you found yourself curious about. What sort of bad dreams did he have? Were they the reason for the often gruff exterior he seemed to exude? Was it anything to do with why he was here by himself?
Though of course, you weren’t remotely about to ask him a single one of those questions.
Lily dropped your hand, her arms both holding the stuffed dog to her chest in a hug as she crossed the small distance over to Frank's patio. You frowned, shoulders sagging at her once more being the four year old she was who couldn't help inserting herself somewhere she shouldn't be.
“Lily, please don't–”
“What makes you feel better after a bad dream?” Lily asked Frank, cutting you off as if you hadn't even begun to reprimand her. “I go outside with Nini. The stars are pretty to look at.”
You shot Frank an apologetic smile before focusing back on your niece. Taking a step forward, you reached a hand out in an attempt to direct her back into your side of the yard. “Lily,” you began again, “you can't just go barging into his yard and asking him personal questions. That's not polite, coffee bean. Especially not at two in the morning.”
Frank glanced up at you, shaking his head lightly. “It's alright,” he assured you. “She’s not bothering me. The opposite, actually.” 
Taken aback by his response, once again considering the hour and your niece’s intrusive question, you were surprised to see Frank settle back down into his chair. There was a small smile on his face as he rested his fidgeting hands in his lap, his attention returning to your niece as Lily continued over onto his patio, climbing up onto the patio chair beside his as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. Standing with the toes of your shoes in the grass just before his patio and at the edge of your yard, you weren’t even sure how to react at this point.
“I like to look at the stars sometimes, too,” he told Lily. “Sometimes they’re calming for me. Other times I might read a book.”
Lily smiled, her little legs not quite reaching the ground from where she sat in the chair absently petting her stuffed dog. “I like when Nini reads me books. She does good voices,” she told him.
Frank’s attention briefly shifted over to where you were standing, something still indecipherable written on his face. Despite the slight chill of the spring night, you felt something warm creep up your neck and flood your cheeks. Nervously you wrapped your arms over your chest, the weight of his gaze once more drawing forth some confusing feelings inside of you.
“Does she now?” Frank mused.
“Mhmm,” Lily replied, beginning to swing her legs back and forth. “I like when she reads the monkey book.”
Frank’s mouth twisted into a sad smile, his gaze dropping down towards his booted feet that had begun toeing the pavement beneath them. Your brows pulled together a bit, a crease forming between them as you noted the slight shift in his mood. He was quiet for a moment before you heard him speak again.
“Used to read One Batch, Two Batch to my daughter every night,” he murmured. “Was her favorite book. Sometimes that’s what she wanted me to read when she had bad dreams.”
“Nini reads that book to me all the time!” Lily exclaimed, excitedly sitting forward in her chair. “That’s where Penny got her name!”
“Is it now?” Frank asked, glancing up at her. 
Even from his profile you could tell the look on Frank’s face hinted at something more hidden behind what he’d said. His use of past tense hadn’t gone unnoticed even to your tired ears, either. You could practically feel a sadness exuding from him where he sat in the chair, chuckling softly as Lily bounced up and down in her seat telling him about how she’d helped you name your husky when you’d adopted her not too long ago. But as she continued to enthusiastically tell the story, you could tell that sadness never seemed to fade from his expression.
“Hey, Lil?” you said, cutting in when you found an opportunity. 
She paused in the middle of her storytelling, the pair of them focusing on you where you still stood at the edge of your yard. You knew if you didn’t stop her now, she’d probably sit there talking to Frank until the sun came up, and while it oddly looked as if he almost wouldn’t mind that, you definitely felt it was time to usher her back inside to bed before she’d be too awake to fall back asleep with how excited she'd already become.
“Maybe we should tell Frank goodnight and head back inside?” you suggested. “It’s late and I’m sure he needs to get to sleep at some point, too. Besides, I’m dropping you off at your dad’s in the morning and I think you’ll want to be rested to spend the day with him, right?”
The excitement quickly fell from Lily’s face and you fought the ache in your chest at the sight. It had been great seeing her happy after how you’d just found her in her room, but you really did need to get some sleep and so did she. If she continued on talking to Frank like this you knew she'd be wide awake talking for the next hour.
“How about I let you bring Penny’s bed into your room for the rest of the night, hmm?” you offered. “Let her sleep in there with you, too?”
The smile immediately returned to her face as she scooted off the patio chair. “Really?” she asked, hopping up and down on her feet. “She can stay with me tonight?”
You nodded, barely getting an affirmative out before Lily was darting past you back towards your sliding door and calling ‘goodnight’ out loudly to Frank as she went. She was back inside your place and darting presumably up to your room to get the dog bed with Penny bounding along behind her in no time. 
Frank’s soft chuckle drew your attention back towards him. Your arms were still hugging your chest as you sent him yet another apologetic smile.
“Sorry for interrupting your evening,” you told him, gesturing your head towards the direction Lily had disappeared. “She’s not very shy, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Doesn’t quite understand when she's being rude instead of friendly.”
Frank’s hand ran across his mouth as he shook his head, a glimmer of something in his eyes as he looked up at you. Your stomach fluttered nervously at the realization of just how alone you currently were with him.
“Seems like a real good kid,” he told you. 
“Yeah,” you said, smiling fondly. “She is.” Clearing your throat, you took a step backwards, aware that you needed to get back inside. “Sorry for bothering you, though. I’ll uh, leave you to it.”
Turning around, you made your way back towards your side of the duplex. Once again you’d found that Frank had surprised you with how sweet he was with your niece, though learning he had a daughter certainly seemed to explain that away. You wondered if he and his wife had recently separated or divorced and that was why he was out here looking so melancholic.
Just as your hand grabbed onto the handle of your sliding door, pulling it open, you heard Frank’s voice from behind you. You paused there on the patio at the sound of it.
“You’re good with her,” he called out.
Biting back the smile on your face, you glanced back over your shoulder at him.
“Could say the same about you,” you called back.
He let out an amused huff, ducking his head almost bashfully at your compliment. That smile was further threatening to take over your face as you heard Lily loudly talking to Penny upstairs inside your duplex.
“Goodnight, Frank.”
He looked up at you from beneath his lashes, his head still partially ducked down. There was a ghost of a smile on his face as he nodded back at you once.
“G’night,” he replied.
Stepping back into your place, you found yourself smiling to yourself as you shut and locked the sliding door behind you. As you began to slip off your coat and shoes in the kitchen, you wondered if maybe having him as a neighbor wouldn’t be half as bad as you’d first thought.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months
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the fire
lilac, chapter eight
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a/n: hehehhehehehehheheh (but in a smutty way)
summary: “I can light the fire if you’d like.” 
warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, renovating an inn, only one bed, fireplace sex, kissing, dry humping, size kink, crying during sex, dirty talk, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I'm just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)
word count: 3076
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Tossing and turning one last time on the couch, you finally gave up with a gentle sigh. At least you’d gotten an hour or two before you stirred from your light slumber, the butterflies still fluttering in your stomach dooming you to lay here on the sofa till the sun came up. 
Getting up, you wrapped the woolly blanket around your frame, the borrowed shirt barely coming down to cover up your bum, and tip-toed over towards the small kitchenette. Careful not to turn on the tap too forcefully, the slow trickle took a while to fill up the glass you’d acquired after peeking through a few of the cupboards. 
With one hand clutching the blanket that swaddled you, the other one that held the glass gently turned the water off before raising the drink up towards your lips to soothe your dry throat. 
Hearing the floorboards behind you suddenly creak, you quickly spun around and discovered the source to naturally be none other than the person who lived here, “Pete! I mean, Frank! H-hi,” he stepped a bit closer, consequently letting the moonlight bathe across his form, the jaw-dropping vision, unfortunately, causing the drink to slip out of your butterfingers, harshly shattering against the floor and sending a tiny wave of water crashing onto your toes. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and that was it, just the relaxed grey fabric clinging dangerously low on his hips. Ripping your now wide eyes away from his bare and burly chest, you forced your vision down to meet the shards at your feet, “oh, shit…” 
Bending down to clean it up, it didn’t take long before another pair of hands also began to carefully pick up the pieces.
“Sorry, I frightened you.”
“No, no, you didn’t, I’m sorry, I’m just a clutz,” you avoided his gaze as you straightened back up, following his lead as he tossed the broken glass into the sink, “and I’m sorry about waking you, I thought I was being quiet, but–”
“You didn’t wake me, don’t worry.”
Wiping your damp hands dry on the blanket still hanging from your shoulders, you finally met his gaze, “well, then I’m sorry about breaking your glass.” 
“It’s just a glass,” he uttered earnestly, faintly shaking his head, “you can’t sleep?” 
“I could, for a little bit at least, but uh, no,” you wrapped the blanket tighter around your form, one of your palms coming to rub your upper arm over it, hoping that the friction might combat the middle of the night chill you couldn’t seem to shake.
“Are you cold?” he noticed, and your hand subsequently froze in its subconscious movements. 
“A bit, but I’m okay.”
“I can light the fire if you’d like,” he gestured back to the hearth located beside your makeshift sleeping arrangement.
“Oh,” your eyebrows gently shot up at his kindness, “uh, sure, if it’s not too much trouble.” 
Your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to his frame as he soon ignited the fire, his broad back turned to you as you slowly sank down onto the rug at the foot of the couch, melting back against the bottom of it as your mind floated away to sinful places. 
“There,” he sat down the box of matches and leaned back a bit to regard the flame taking a hold, “that should do it.”
As he scooted back to join you on the floor, eyes fast on the fire while yours were still fixated on him, you soon heard your voice pipe up, “hey Frank? Can I ask you something?” to which he simply hummed in confirmation, “that thing you told me last night, when you said that you did some stuff…”
A slow nod stirred his head, “yeah…”
“What were they? Was it something bad? Something illegal? Are you some criminal on the run?” you added half-jokingly, “should I be worried about, I don’t know, the FBI or someone bursting through those doors at any time?” 
Staring back into the crackling flame, he simply offered a gentle shake of his head, “no.” 
“No?” you cocked your head, leaning forward a bit to catch his distant gaze. 
Finding your eyes, he then repeated steadily, “no.”
“Is that all?” a nervous chuckle bubbled out past your lips, “no?”
Sucking in a sharp inhale, he said, “for now, yeah.” 
Gazing back at him, a gentle smile eventually warmed your features, “alright.” 
“I wanna tell you,” he stressed, breathing deep as he averted his soulful eyes, “I wanna share everything with you, I just–… not yet…”
Seizing his hand, you gave it a soft squeeze, “it’s okay, I don’t want you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with.” 
Blinking back at you again, you then watched as his spine slowly relaxed back against the base of the sofa, eyes eventually flickering back towards the fireplace as his fingers readjusted, weaving in with your own. 
Tilting your head down, you gazed at your conjoined hands, turning them a bit so that his was on top. It was kind of comical how much bigger his was than yours. The back of it almost reminded you of a windowpane on a rainy autumn day with the way his prominent veins popped out and snaked over the callused skin just like streaks of water would dance down the surface of the glass. Reaching out, almost unconsciously, you traced the fine lines stretching across his flesh with your fingertip. 
After you had drawn over every little story the back of his palm had to tell, your interlocked hands then suddenly began to move as your eyes flickered up to see Frank, softly illuminated in the flickering firelight, slowly raising the back of yours up to his lips. 
You had no idea anything could ever feel as soft as his pillowy peck felt against your knuckles. Finding your dazzled gaze, he held it as he gently twisted your hand, gaining enough access to place a trickle of kisses along the inside of your wrist. 
And the next thing you knew, as if he was a magnet drawing you to him, your lips pressed against his in a zealous kiss. 
As you felt his fingers find your jaw on their mission to weave into your hair, you found yourself crawling closer, so close in fact that the blanket wrapped around you fell to the floor, never to be thought of again, especially not when you eagerly slid into his lap, a shaky sigh quivering against his tongue as you did so. 
You didn’t care that you were running out of air, how could you when his pecks were so intoxicating and his warmth so inviting? Wrapping your arms around his neck, you soon sensed his wide palms run down your spine, effectively turning you into goo every time his dreamy touch just shyly peeked under the hem of the oversized shirt you wore or whenever his fingertips just ever so slightly sneaked pasted the elastic of your waistband, never actually getting anywhere, but just the shear cracking of the seal drove you nuts. 
So why wouldn’t you begin to rock down into his lap? Sure, you were already on top of the guy with his tongue down your throat, but you still didn’t feel like you were close enough.
Finally, when you felt as if your heart might actually burst out of your chest, you reeled back, panting as you uttered, “fuck, my pulse is beating so fast…” blinking back into his dark eyes through your heavy lashes, you abruptly grabbed one of his hands and, without truly pondering it, tugged it closer, “here,” placing it right beneath your left peak, “feel.” 
His long fingers sprawled across your ribs, frozen and framing the crest as he sucked in a deep breath, staring back into your eyes you heard his deep timbre shoot straight to your throbbing core, “it is…” he slowly confirmed your rapid pulse, “are you okay?” 
“Yes,” you hazily nodded, his gentle question warming your heart. 
“Do you wanna–…” you saw him concentrate on not letting his yearning touch follow its desire and enclose around your boob among other intimate locations, “do you wanna stop?” 
With the lightest of shakes to your head, you asked, “do you?” which he promptly answered as you felt his palm begin to move, gently gliding up till he cupped your tit, his broad thumb lightly swiping across, grazing over the pebbly nipple that made its excitement more then clear through his dark t-shirt that hung loosely around your frame. 
You couldn’t help but let out a gasp at how good it felt. Toes curling, your hips instinctively rocked down in search of release as you then grabbed onto his bearded cheeks and seized his lips once again. 
With a palm at the small of your back, Frank insistently tugged you closer, sending you further up his strong thighs till the palpable tent in his sweatpants nudged against you. Whimpering longingly into the kiss, it hadn’t been till now that you had truly noticed just how hard he was. 
Fervently grinding down against his desire, your heated kiss briefly paused just long enough for him to scoop your shirt up and over your head, carelessly tossing it to the side before his arms swiftly enclosed around your frame, hands sprawling over your bare skin of your back as if he was starving for it.
Drawing you even closer towards him, pressing your bare chest against his, you felt his kisses begin to wander. Across your jaw, down your neck and all the way down to your tits. Mouth full, surely littering your soft peaks with lavender love marks, he gazed up at you, holding it as he then took over your desperate grinding, grip digging into your hips as he bewitchingly rocked you down against him. 
But that look he sent you should have come with a warning, because pretty much as soon as he flashed it to you, that’s when your hand shot down between your tangled forms, reaching into his pants to truly feel what was driving you mad.
His head tilted back and collided with the plush seat, his mouth agape as he savoured every little pet you offered him as you fished his heavy length out of its restraints. 
It was almost a growl that vibrated deep within his throat as he then buried his fists in the cotton of the underwear that stretched across your ass, retroactively pulling them tight enough against you for the soaked gusset to briefly tug against your folds before one of his hands shot down to touch you properly. 
Though he didn’t pet you through your panties long before you felt him suddenly yank you up to your knees in order to tug the last bit of your clothes off. Raising your shins, one at a time to help him get them off your form completely, your own fingers eagerly mirrored his as you tugged both his sweatpants and the boxers beneath down his thighs, though you didn’t get to finish the job yourself as he impatiently took over and snatched them the rest of the way off. 
You both let out a molten moan the moment you settled back down into his lap, a breathy, “fucking hell,” also flowed from Frank’s lips as your cunt drenched his girth in your want. Palm cupping your flush cheek, he whispered enchantingly, “you’re so fucking beautiful…”
Nuzzling his sturdy nose against your own, you rocked against him so perfectly, so electrically, that if you kept going even just a minute longer, then you’d surely cum right then and there.  
“Frank, please,” you whimpered as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, “I wanna feel you,” his hands raked all across your spine, “I need to feel you, all of you, please, I feel so fucking empty.”
“Yeah?” he tilted his chin back, catching your fluttering gaze. 
“P-please,” you practically trembled at this point. 
Arms already fast around you, he swiftly scooped you up and laid you back down on to the rug, capturing your lips in a brief kiss as he settled on top of you like some carnal deity. 
Reaching down, he only brushed his bulbous tip through your folds twice, tapping the weight lightly against your buzzing clit, before you tangled your legs behind him and drew him in. 
Perhaps the adrenaline had been to blame, but the brief encounter you previously had with Frank’s cock hadn’t been substantial enough as the light touches hadn’t been able to warn you of the daunting girth he was packing. 
As he slowly sank in, a rushed, “shh, shh, shh,” flowed out pasted your lips as you with suddenly wide eyes landed a few trembling taps to his abdomen, pleating him to a halt. 
“What? What?” he asked, eyes scanning your features as you breathed deep, trying to overcome his fierce size.
“Holy fuck,” you whimpered breathlessly, eyes fluttering uncontrollably, “w-why didn’t you tell me you were so–, so–, fuck… so big?” 
A chuckle suddenly rumbled through him, “well I’m sorry, I thought you had already–, uh… do you need me to pull back out? We don’t need to do it like this if you–”
“No, no, no, don’t, don’t,” the words spilled out of you like the water from the glass you had spilled earlier, “just give me a second, I just need a second.”
Brows knitted, your eyes didn’t leave his as you reeled in the overwhelming, yet astoundingly pleasurable sensation, your walls slowly relaxing around his fat tip as you still felt so close to the edge, like just a tiny little feather could tip you over into ecstasy. 
Gentle caresses moving up and down the curve of your form, his soft smile soon brightened as he eventually zeroed in on your puffy pearl, your vibrant reaction being more than enough indication for him to know what was on the brink of occurring. 
His tight circles didn’t quit, even when you pussy clenched so tight that his tip popped straight out, he just kept going till your moans turned into cries, limbs grew chaotic and your hand shot down to tap his out, halting it to a complete standstill. 
“H-holy shit,” you panted, pulling him down to seize him lips, “holy shit…” you felt his glossy fingers trade the firm motions in with a gentle bit of contact, lightly cupping his slick palm against your puffy folds, shielding you in a way and kissing you softly as you took a moment to regain your vigor. 
“You good?” you eventually heard him check in.
“Am I good?” you chuckled, a light furrow crinkling up your brows, “Frank, you just gave me one of the best orgasms I’ve had in I don’t even know how long, but definitely the best one someone else has ever given to me. Yes, I’m good, I’m really good,” you giggled against his lips as you captured them in another kiss, “are you good?”
Echoing your light laughter, he rumbled, “yeah,” as if his painfully hard cock, throbbing against your stomach wasn’t enough of a clue. 
Lips glued to his, you reached down and curled your fingers around his dick, or at least as much as you could with your fingers barely meeting on the other side. Ravenous once again, you dragged him across your sensitive clit, his low groan mixing and mingling with your own before you nudged him against your entrance, welcoming him back inside once more. 
It was slow, oh so very slow with bountiful breaks dispersed throughout, but eventually, with a bit of patience and a tender touch, you worked up to a gentle rhythm. Though to say that it was gentle in no way meant it wasn’t intense, as the tears that promptly began to trickle down your cheeks effectively made that known. 
It only took one sniffle before Frank noticed, reacting quickly though not managing to open his mouth before you did, “I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay?” 
“Y-yeah, it’s just–, you feel so good,” you blubbered, nails clawing into his back, “having you touch me like this, feeling you inside of me, it just feels so good, please don’t stop,” you begged, your lust streaming through the hot tears, “I’m sorry, I’m not sad, I swear, I don’t know why I’m crying,” a giggle managed to bubble through, “just please don’t stop, please, pleas–”
But the rest of your whimpering words morphed into desperate moans as Frank delivered on exactly what you asked for and then some. Perhaps the palpable power he had on you finally went to his head as he then just let go and lost himself in the pleasure of your warmth.
You’d actually forgotten that he’d, up until now, only fucked you with a fraction of him, but when the air got suddenly punched out of your lungs as his heavy sack tapped feverishly against you, fat girth stretching you out and filling you up to the very brink, the overwhelming sensation wasn’t at all excruciating as you had feared, no, instead it genuinely sent your body straight to cloud nine. 
“I won’t stop,” he croaked as he rocked into you, “I promise, I won’t fucking stop,” timing the last few words with his frantic hips, driving into you with each and every word. 
“F-Frank, oh!” your eyes rolled in your skull as you sensed your thighs begin to tremble once more, the carpet beneath you beginning to burn from the friction his desperate pace was causing.
“Atta girl,” he groaned deliciously, “fucking hell, you’re gripping onto me so good, so fucking good,” just the tip of his nose ghosted against your own as he murmured, “sucking me back in, you feel so incredible, so–, fuck…” 
The lewd and sloppy melody of your connection reverberating throughout the cabin soon concluded with you both in a sweaty and jumbled pile, your thighs still quivering as he reached out for the forgotten blanket, tugging it over the both of you. 
Laying there on the floor, soothingly tangled and listening to the fire crackle, you felt yourself melt further into Frank’s form as his touch softly brushed across your tender skin, drawing soothing patterns as you held him close. 
“About–…” you then heard him hesitantly break the blissed-out silence, “about what you said earlier… last night…” craning your neck, you locked eyes with his as he admitted, “you scare me too.”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
534 notes · View notes
wordstome · 6 months
Text
kingdom come - ii
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king König x princess & assassin reader
2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting
4.4k words
tw: none
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Let's have something lighthearted and playful after the absolute Week the cod fandom has had, shall we?
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“What do you mean he’s letting you kill him?”
“I don’t know what you want from me, Calliope, I thought I made myself quite clear.”
“But…but that’s mad!”
“He is mad!” You shove the sleeves of your blouse over your arms. “But I’m still alive, so I’m not complaining.”
“Of course. Should I send word to your father about these new developments?”
You bite your lip. “No,” you say. Something catches your eye outside the window, and you move closer to have a look. König is outside, walking with one of his advisors while eating an apple. It’s a strange juxtaposition between the relaxed boyishness of him throwing the apple in the air and catching it, and the stark, emotionless expression of the mask covering half his face.
As if he can feel your gaze on you, he looks upwards, eyes locking with yours. You shudder and quickly shut the curtains.
“I can do this.” You say, determined.
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“You’re not eating.”
You stare resolutely at him from across the table. “I’m not hungry.”
He sighs, as if you’re a difficult child he’s being forced to babysit. “I heard your stomach growl. The food won’t bite back.”
“To be frank, I don’t know if I can trust you.”
“Who the fuck is Frank?”
You glower at him. “I know this is all a game to you, but I’m trying to stay alive.”
“By not eating?”
You look down at the food dubiously, and your doubt must be written all over your face, because König laughs. “Surely you do not think so lowly of me that I would poison my bride at the breakfast table,” he taunts. “That wouldn’t be in the spirit of the hunt.”
“You’ll have to forgive me for presuming otherwise of the man who asked me to eat a nightshade berry.”
He rolls his eyes. “One berry can’t kill a full-grown man. Or woman.” He takes a sip of wine. “And besides, that wasn’t the point of our little encounter in the garden anyway.”
Your hunger wins out over your apprehension. “Enlighten me,” you say, tucking into the food.
“Isn’t it obvious? I was testing you to see if you were going to try and kill me.” He points a fork with a piece of sausage on it at you. “Quiet, secluded place with nobody watching, plenty of exits. You surprised me by staring at me like a startled doe.”
“You caught me off guard,” you mutter. “You’re a very off-putting person.”
He gives you a bemused look. “You’re not a very good assassin.”
You bristle. “I assure you, if my target was anybody else, they would already be dead.”
“Tell me, princess. Have you ever killed anybody?”
“I’ve killed.”
“A human.”
“I know how to kill someone!”
“So that’s a no.”
You’re fuming at this point, your meal long forgotten. “It’s not to my advantage to let you know what I can and can’t do.”
He studies you, twirling his fork in an admittedly mesmerizing motion. “And your father sent you here, to kill me, having never spilled another person’s blood before.”
“My father prepared me my entire life for this.”
“Not sure that speaks highly of your skill.”
You’re already tired of him. “What’s the point of this?” you demand. “A smarter man would have either killed me or thrown me in a cell by now.”
“Not a smarter man, a boring one,” König corrects.
“So you have a death wish.”
“Of course not. I have much to live for. Eating, killing, fucking. Great fun. But not enough on its own.” His grin is near wolfish as he stares you down.
“You are vile.”
“You could be doing something about that.”
You look at him in mortified disbelief. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“I was referring to killing me, but it is interesting that’s where your mind went first.” He looks entirely too pleased with himself, as if he’s caught you in a clever trap.
“Fuck you.”
“Now we’re talking!” He stands up, and for one fleeting moment, you fear he’s about to make good on the offer, but instead he just wipes his mouth and makes to leave.
“As much as I’ve enjoyed this little bout of verbal sparring, I have somewhere to be.”
“You seem in quite a rush to leave my presence, for a man who seems so convinced I won’t be able to kill him.” If he wants to be a smart little asshole, you can too.
“Ah, believe me, princess. I would like nothing more than to spend all day in your lovely, murderous presence. But unfortunately, I have responsibilities.” He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you studiously ignore the way your stomach flips a little at the motion. “I’m obligated to hear petitions.”
You stand up. “I’m coming with you.”
“Why? It’s fucking dull.”
“So I can have more opportunities to kill you.”
“Yes. Of course.” Again with that smile. You’ve never met anyone half as pleased to be in your presence as he is. (The only exception is Calliope, but she kind of has to be near you.) This man simply refuses to act in any normal manner whatsoever, and it’s starting to get on your nerves. You throw your dagger at the back of his head more out of irritation than a dedicated effort to kill him.
He catches it in the air with casual precision and keeps walking. “Too predictable, little one.”
You should be concerned by his razor-sharp reflexes, but it’s difficult to feel anything but annoyance right now. And…respect?
You get up and follow him before you can give yourself a chance to dissect that.
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König was right. This is dull.
At first, the concept of receiving petitioners seemed like an amusing prospect. But in practice, it’s all politics and people complaining about taxes.
You entertain yourself by watching König. He seems just as bored, if not more, as you. He appears to be intrigued by your dagger: examining it, testing the edge, handling the heft.
Some man is talking animatedly with his hands, bemoaning some property dispute with his neighbor. You’re sure that if König rolls his eyes any harder into the back of his skull, he’ll go pigeon-eyed. Admirably, he manages to push through—if it had been you, you would have just told the man to get out and stop wasting your time. As loathe as you are to admit it, König is a good leader.
“Alright, we’re done here. Tell them to go home,” König says, dismissing everyone with a flick of his wrist. The guards begin to push the doors closed when one last man runs in, near crazed, and throws himself on the floor, babbling incoherently.
“What is the meaning of this?” König demands, immediately standing up. The guards begin to approach the man, hands on swords.
“Wait! Please, your majesty, I beg of you,” the man pleads. “I have journeyed many days to come here and beseech your aid.”
König heaves a sigh. “Spit it out then.”
“Thank you, my king,” the man pants, pushing himself up to a standing position. “There’s a beast. In the south.”
“A beast?”
“It’s ravaging the countryside. It follows the flocks, but it doesn’t eat them. It’s…” The man swallows hard. He looks weary, run ragged no doubt by his arduous journey to the capital. “It’s taking our children, sir.”
König’s eyes narrow. “And you haven’t attempted to track it down yourself?”
“We’ve tried, your majesty. Our most skilled hunters have gone after it.” The man sways unsteadily on his feet. “None of them have come back.”
“Has anyone laid eyes on it? Is it a wolf?”
“None who have seen it have returned to tell the tale.”
König leans back, looking contemplative. One of his advisors speaks. “We’ve received reports about this already, sire. We’ve dispatched soldiers already but had no luck.”
The man shakes his head frantically. “It doesn’t leave anyone behind to tell the tale, sir. Not many people dare to go into the woods anymore, and the ones that do…they don’t come back right.”
“How so.”
The man’s voice betrays his naked fear, trembling. “They go mad, sir. Some think…some think it’s the fae’s doing.”
That seems to finally get König’s interest. He leans forward, his entire demeanor stiffening. A hush falls over the people gathered as the man invokes the fair folk’s name.
Everybody knows the fae exist. In hushed whispers, people tell the old stories: of when the fair folk lived among men and ruled over them with cruelty and trickery. There are some forests people know to stay out of. And when a newborn babe fusses just a bit too much, or a child grows up a little too quiet, the rumors fly in secret.
The fae are cruel, beautiful, and nearly impossible for a mortal to kill. If they’re involved in this matter with the beast, then that village is as good as dead.
Before König can say anything, the man fidgets and turns. You watch as his attention lands on you, eyes widening. Something his gaze becomes unfocused, misty, his chest beginning to heave as he visibly panics.
“You…they’re here…THEY’RE HERE!” With a crazed look on his face, the man lunges towards you, moving at a threatening speed. Your hand goes instinctively to your hidden sheathe, but your fingers close around air. Shit! König still has your dagger. You brace to defend yourself as the man draws even closer—
Like a deadly blur, König is on the man in an instant. The force of him knocks you backwards, watching in shock as König subdues the screaming, flailing man with cold, expert precision.
As if in slow motion, you watch with a mixture of horror and fascination as he turns to look at you. His eyes, usually a tranquil pale green, are blue. Vivid blue, with an unearthly glow to them that makes you wonder if you’re hallucinating. You feel like a butterfly pinned to cork by that stare, simultaneously trapped and admired.
He blinks, once, and his eyes are green again.
With what looks like no effort at all, he turns the man on his stomach and pins his arms behind him as he struggles and hollers. “Put this one in a cell,” he says with a deep growl. “We’ll see what he has to say for himself when he’s in his right mind again. If he ever is.” The guards rush forward to haul the man away as König stands back up.
He gives the rest of the room a cursory glance. “Well? Back to your duties.”
The gawking staff quickly gather themselves and scatter. König claps his hands together as if dusting off some nuisance.
“…Why did you do that?” You ask, unable to help yourself.
He gives you a skeptical look. “Why did I defend my queen from an attacker?”
You take a deep breath. Gods preserve you. “I’m not your anything.”
“Technically untrue. You are my wife, which makes you the queen.” He strides over to you and offers you your dagger, holding the blade so you can grab the hilt.
Its weight soothes you as you put it back into its rightful place. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve already said I have no intention of killing you. Besides, it wouldn’t look good for me if I allowed you to be attacked in your own home.”
This isn’t my home, you almost say, but stop yourself. You’re starting to sound too much like a whining child, and you don’t like it.
You surprise the both of you with what comes out of your mouth next. “Thank you.”
He’s looking at you that way again, like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “You’re welcome.” He averts his eyes, hesitating for a moment like he wants to say more. Then he evidently thinks better of it and strides away from you.
“My lady!” Calliope rushes forward, concern written all over her face. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, just…shaken,” you say, still watching König leave. “I’m fine.”
“Simply outrageous. I can’t believe none of the guards got to that man in time,” she fumes, fussing over you in her way.
“Yes, well. König got here in time. So no harm was done.”
Calliope follows your gaze, eyes narrowing at König’s retreating backside just as he turns the corner and vanishes from sight. “I don’t like that one.”
“Neither do I,” you snort.
“No, pet. Listen to me.” Startled, you turn to look at her. You haven’t heard her take on this tone in quite a while: the last time was when you had broken your wrist trying to scale one of the abandoned towers back home. You can’t quite recall why you had been trying to do that, but you do remember the worried look on her face, and the sternness of her words.
“He’s not right,” she says. “Something’s wrong about him.”
It’s a foregone conclusion to say that König is no ordinary man, but something about the furrow of Calliope’s brow tells you that more is happening here than she’s letting on. “Are you going to elaborate?”
A strange look passes over her face, like a cloud briefly blocking the sun. “No.”
You wait for a few moments before nodding. Whatever it is, you trust her to know what’s best. “I see. Though I didn’t need a warning on how dangerous he is, you know.”
“You are a smart girl,” she says wistfully, straightening your ruffled clothes a bit. “But there are some things that are not for you to understand.”
“I have to understand, if I’m to kill him.”
She frowns. “I think you should put that out of your mind for now.”
“What?”
“I mean, you may have to play a longer game with this one. There’s too much we don’t know.”
You open your mouth, then close it. She’s right. There was something bone-chilling about the way he looked at you just now, but instead of feeling afraid, you feel something different. Curiosity. Fascination.
Not for the first time—or the last—you feel drawn to him.
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König’s been antsy lately.
You’ve gotten quite good at reading his moods, even when he’s wearing the hood. The rest of his body betrays him: his shoulders are tense, and his fingers are constantly toying with a phantom knife. He prefers to be fidgeting with an actual one, but it tends to make him too intimidating for that to be practical.
You’ve taken Calliope’s advice and taken to studying your target rather than trying to end him and be done with it. There’s a lot to notice, which is surprising: you’d taken him for some mindless hulking brute upon first impression. It’s clear that he’s intelligent, with a cunning quickness to his thinking that both impresses and chills you.
Shame he’s still as much of a raging pervert as he was in the beginning, though.
“You know, I wasn’t sure about you in pants at first, but now I think you should wear them more often,” he says, surprising you during target practice. He startles you enough to throw your shot off, the arrow clattering uselessly to the ground below the target.
“Can I help you?” you demand, giving him a venomous side eye.
“Not at all, princess. Just admiring the view.” He leans against a nearby post, watching your confused expression. It takes him shifting his gaze downward for you to realize what he means.
“Ugh!” Without hesitation, you nock another arrow and shoot it at him, aiming right between his eyes. He dodges it, of course.
“You can’t expect me to marry a pretty woman and not look at her,” he says smugly.
It’s an unfamiliar situation, being desired. You don’t have much experience with this sort of thing: not only are you the king’s daughter, but you tend to give off a chilly, hyper-competent aura that keeps men with fragile egos away from you. You’ve only had one encounter with a man: a shy kiss behind the stables, featherlight touches that sent tingles through your whole body.
König has never touched you, but the way he looks at you is enough to make you blush. You should be indignant, but instead you find you don’t mind all that much.
“Why are you bothering me?” you say instead of responding to what he said.
“Bothering you? I’m hurt,” he says, placing a hand over his heart as if you’ve physically wounded him. “I came to inform you of my departure.”
“Your what?” you ask, gawking at him. “Where are you going?”
“Do you remember that man who came to tell us about the beast?”
“You mean the man who attacked me? I’d forgotten,” you say drily.
“Your wit is as alluring as ever,” he responds. “I’ve decided to enlist the help of the most competent man I know to deal with the threat.”
“And who would that be?”
“Me, of course.”
You shoot him a confused look. “You’re leaving to deal with something personally?”
“It’s too perilous of a problem to continue throwing my men at,” he says, taking on a more serious tone. He’s toying with a knife again: a hefty, aggressive-looking thing with a jagged edge. “If you want something done, you need to do it yourself. Or at least lay eyes on the problem yourself.”
“You’re not worried at all about dying and leaving your throne empty?” you ask disbelievingly. This is beyond reckless, verging on foolish.
“Don’t start,” he sighs. “I just got out of a hours-long meeting with my advisors. Anything you could say to me, they’ve already told me a dozen times. It won’t change my mind.” One look at him tells you he’s dead serious, and won’t be persuaded otherwise.
“Well, when do we leave?”
“We?”
“Yes, of course. I’m coming with you,” you say, puzzled at his confusion.
“You are not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“It’s too dangerous. And besides, the journey won’t be pleasant. I’ll be traveling without guards or servants.”
“Why on earth not?”
“Too much of a hassle. I’ll get there faster if I’m traveling alone. Emphasis on alone. Besides, I would prefer not to be sending any innocents to their deaths.”
“You’ll need someone to watch your back.”
“And you think you qualify?”
“Yes!”
He chuckles at your indignant tone. “With all due respect, my queen, I doubt you could take care of yourself out there, much less be of use to me.”
You wish he wouldn’t call you that. It makes your chest feel strange. Which isn’t helpful when you’re getting mad at him for doubting your competence.
“If you go alone, you might not come back,” you retort. “If I come with you, I can ensure you don’t come back.”
He looks at you, startled, and proceeds to let out a hearty laugh. “You are full of surprises,” he says. “It won’t be like a vacation, you know. We’ll have to travel light.”
“I can handle that.”
“I’m sure you can. The question is, can you handle whatever beast those villagers are so worried about? You may not worry about my wellbeing, but I would worry about your own first.”
“You don’t think I can hold my own?”
“To be honest? No.”
“Then let me prove myself.” You step right up to him, so close that your face is nearly pressed to his chest. God, he’s so big. And broad— “Let me show you I can hold my own in a fight.”
A sly smile crosses his face. “Alright. Let’s spar.”
You blink. “Excuse me?”
“Let’s. Spar.”
“You want me to fight you?”
“What were you expecting?”
“That’s not a fair fight.”
“You came here to kill me.”
“Assassinations don’t usually happen during prearranged one-on-one fights.”
“Touché. But I’m not asking you to beat me. If I think you’re competent, then you can come along.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I actively do not want you to join me, mind you.”
You let out a quick, angry breath through your nose. Infuriating. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Excellent. I’ll see you after lunch, then.”
You turn away from him and trudge over to a tree to pick up some fallen arrows. “What’s the rush? Are you leaving so soon?”
“Tomorrow morning, in fact. Just before dawn.”
“I can wake up that early.”
“No need to put the horse before the carriage here. If you’re going.”
“I’m not concerned.” You bend down to pick a few arrows out of some scrappy tough grass, and when you straighten, König is right there, looming over you like a threatening shadow.
“What—” You gasp as the knife König was fiddling with rushes past your face and embeds itself in the tree trunk behind you.
“I don’t think this is quite getting through to you, so I’ll only say this once,” he mutters darkly, leaning over you to whisper directly into your ear, his hand firmly gripping the knife above your head. “You have nothing to prove to me, and I don’t know what you’re trying to do by insisting you come with me. If you change your mind now, we need not speak about this again.”
You glare up at him. “You’re not going to change my mind. And it’s quite suspicious that you’re trying to.”
“Is it really so difficult to believe that I’m concerned for your welfare?”
You don’t understand him. Being this close to him isn’t helping you think straight, either. There’s no other way to describe it, but it’s almost like you can feel the intensity radiating off him. He smells like pine needles and lye, and some distinctly manly musk that you don’t dislike. And when he’s up close like this, you can see every detail of his eyes, the green streaked with blue and brown.
“It would be easier if you weren’t,” you whisper.
He snorts. “Don’t I know it.” Before you can process what the hell he means by that, he’s pulling his knife out of the tree and stalking off, suddenly in some sulky mood.
You stare at the deep mark left in the bark, wondering what just happened.
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“Again,” calls the swordsmaster.
You scramble to your feet, exhausted and sore. “This isn’t fair,” you whine. You’re twelve years old, and the man who’s been teaching you how to fight has just dropped you for what feels like the millionth time in a row.
“How so?”
“You’re bigger than me!” you pout. “And far stronger.”
“That isn’t always an advantage, you know,” he says, doing a flourish with his practice sword that you vow right there and then to master someday.
“How? That’s all fighting is. It’s just big people beating up the little people.”
“Being smaller just means you have to be nimbler.” He gestures for you to come at him again. “Don’t focus on trying to hit me in the chest. Use your size to your advantage and focus on weak points.”
You brandish the practice sword again and ground yourself, steeling yourself with a deep breath before charging. You go for the knees, smacking them so hard that they buckle, bringing your instructor down with a shout.
“I did it!” you beam proudly.
“A little unorthodox, but the job is done,” he pants. “Remember, there is no decorum when you are fighting for your life. It is imperative you intuit your enemy’s weak points and exploit them. Even the strongest enemy can be brought low.”
You nod with determination. “Always go for the knees.” That draws a laugh out of your instructor.
There’s something deeply unnerving about the way this man moves.
König is so big, but he doesn’t move like it. The way he paces reminds you of a big cat: all intimidation and quiet, deadly strength on light feet.
“I’ll let you make the first move,” he says with a crooked smile. He looks deliciously rumpled, the sleeves of his shirt pushed to his elbows. You’re only looking at the swell of his biceps for tactical reasons, of course. Of course.
“How generous,” you reply. Without hesitation, you lunge at him.
He’s ready for you, of course. He matches you hit for hit, parrying you effortlessly. If you thought he was fast before, there’s something downright inhuman about it now. You doubt he’s even breaking a sweat.
He pushes you back, sliding on your feet a little. “Do you seriously have one hand behind your back right now?” you hiss.
“You’re as difficult to fend off as a feather,” he shoots back.
It’s like having a conversation, sparring with him. More than just the banter, of course. You trade blows, each unable to move in too closely to the other. He may be strong, but you’re fast. And you can tell you’re wearing him down.
“Getting tired, big boy?” you taunt.
“Of waiting for you to give up? Perhaps,” he grits out. “Don’t try my patience, princess.”
“I want to watch you squirm,” you respond. You watch as König’s eyes widen slightly. You jump at the opportunity, taking advantage of his moment of shock to knock him off balance and pinning him underneath you.
“That wasn’t so hard,” you purr as he pants under you. “Feel familiar?”
“Last time we were in this position, it didn’t end so well for you,” König shoots back. He can say whatever he wants, but you’ve visibly winded him.
“This time, I went for the knees.”
“Oh?”
“You have buttons that are very entertaining to push, your highness.”
“You little—”
It’s quick. One moment he’s pinned underneath you, and another moment some supernatural strength has him rapidly reversing your positions. He catches you off guard, and you spot a flash of blue in his eyes as the wind is knocked out of your lungs.
“Next time you have an enemy pinned like that, finish the job instead of crowing about your victory,” he hisses.
You wheeze a little before shooting him a coy look. “Struck a nerve, did I?”
“You are an infuriating little minx,” he says, visibly frustrated. He stands up, offering you a helping hand.
You take it, springing up with a little bounce to your step. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Am I coming with you?”
He sighs in consternation. “I suppose you are.”
You give him a little pat on the face. His exposed cheek is warm underneath your palm as he looks at you with an indecipherable expression.
“Glad we sorted that out. See you at dinner,” you say sweetly.
You prance off without a look back. You could use a bath.
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MOOOOOOOM THEY'RE FLIRTINGGG
I started out unsure of how this chapter was going to turn out, as it's mostly just setup for the plot to get going. But I ended up having a lot of fun, and some pretty important things are set up in this. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Comments and feedback are of course always appreciated <3
@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp
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strawhbrrries · 10 months
Text
Delicate, ii
pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x innocent!afab!reader
summary: a sweet older gentleman moves into the house next door, or rather a few acres away. he spends a few evenings with your dad and consequently earns the attention of a much younger girl, you.
warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 46), protective dad???, no use of y/n, not proofread
word count: 808 words
author’s note: here is the very first part of delicate and i really hope you guys love it! not too much action, entirely just set up for frank and peach's future endeavors and relationship. please enjoy! mwah!
tag list: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @shantellorraine
find the masterlist here!
read the previous part here!
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The sun peaked its way into your room, warming up all the spaces it touched as it slithered its way through your curtains. The sun rising earlier in the summer was always your biggest complaint, it woke you up so early but if you got blackout curtains you would sleep too late in the evening. It truly was a lose-lose situation. This particular morning, bright and early at seven am, there were two voices talking loudly in the driveway. That just so happened to be almost directly outside your bedroom window.
You sat up, rubbed your eyes and tried to decipher what they were saying. You knew it was your father and Frank speaking but you couldn’t make out any words, they were just too far out of range for that. No matter how close you got to the window you just couldn’t do it, maybe it was because you’d just woken up or maybe you were just losing your hearing. It would be a worry for another day. The clock now read seven fifteen, you spent fifteen minutes trying to eavesdrop on two grown men. It was almost pathetic.
The sun was now further into your room, if you hadn’t already gotten out of bed it would’ve been blaring into your eyes. You picked out a pink pair of shorts and matched it to a cute strawberry patterned tank top. Once you were satisfied with what you were wearing you brushed your hair and did your general morning routine. By the time you made it to the kitchen both your dad and Frank were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on some coffee that had been made earlier in the morning.
“‘Mornin’ Peach.” Your dad grumbled, taking a sip of his coffee and slurping it when it reached his lips.
“Good morning.” You chirped, way too cheery for the two men at the table. Despite being awake longer than you, neither of them were glad to be up bright and early. “Good morning, Mr. Castle.”
“Just Frank, Peach.” Frank responded, watching you traverse through the kitchen, trying his best to keep his eyes to himself.
“Yes, sir.” You smiled at him, pouring some more coffee into both cups on the table before putting it back to brew more coffee.
Frank choked on the fresh coffee he was trying to drink, even though it was said so innocently it was doing a number on him. Thankfully, for him, the table was in the way of anyone seeing the tent currently pitching in his pants. He covered it up with a cough and a clearing of his throat, continuing the conversation he was having with your dad.
The sausage and eggs your dad had made this morning had gone cold, he must’ve been up earlier than normal. You would ask him later if everything was okay on the ranch later, make sure you didn’t need to pick up any extra duties to help. You warmed up the food on the stove, listening to their conversation while you waited. Nothing interesting, besides the fact you learned Frank was single. That, you didn’t understand.
Just because you’d never had sex or anything close to it didn’t mean you didn’t imagine what it was like. For the first time. Last night. With Frank. He wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat this morning, it made you want to frown just a bit. Not that he wasn’t as attractive without it, there was just something about the hat that enhanced it. you wanted to run your fingers through his hair, twist the hair around your nails and curl it more than it already was.
“What are your plans for today, Peach?” Your dad asked, as he did every morning. Only really asking to see if you would be home long enough to do some morning chores around the house.
“I gotta stop by the general store, get some food and then probably get some stuff for the horses.” You responded, placing the now warm breakfast on a plate and sitting at the table.
“I can take ‘er.” Frank offered, taking a sip of his coffee, eyes boring into your soul. “I gotta do the same shit.”
“Perfect! Thanks, Frank!” Your dad responded happily, taking his wallet out to hand you a few bills for the stuff you needed.
Your neck burned, blush creeping up from the depths of your chest. Frank stared, discreetly, as your skin turned a tinge pink. You tuned out the rest of the conversation, playing around with your food, thinking about being alone with an older man. It was almost taboo, you hadn’t been alone with a boy much less a man. If you could see into Frank’s mind the blush would engulf your whole body, burning you like a sinner in church. You hadn’t known things so dirty and taboo.
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five-hxrgreeves · 11 months
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Two Positives Equal a Negative (Or Something Like That)
PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader
WC: 2.8k (again, a long one. I just can’t seem to write anything short!) 
SUMMARY: you’ve always had trouble sleeping thanks your numerous (unfortunate) life experiences. While he hasn’t lived as long as you have, Adam has a similar problem. Fortunately, a Terran phrase that your brother taught you might have the solution that you seek.
WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, fluff, angst if you squint.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: okay, so I accidentally lied and I realized that my last one-shot wasn’t my first official one; I wrote a Natasha x reader several years ago. I just don’t post on here that often so I forgot about it, lol. Anyway, Adam Warlock currently has a chokehold on me so here’s another one-shot for him- the sequel that I mentioned on the last one. I’m tempted to write a Gally one/two-shot, but I’m not familiar with the TMR universe so I’m worried that I’d mess it up.
Also, I know that the phrase is actually ‘two negatives equal a positive,’ but I was drawing on the fact that non-Terrans wouldn’t really remember/understand Peter’s references, and since ‘you’ had only been to Earth during Endgame, you it mixed up.
Part 0 , Part 1
You’d always had trouble sleeping, especially on your father’s planet. There had just been a sense of. . . wrongness that you didn’t need Mantis’ empath powers to feel. It had made you on edge most of the time, alert for the unseen danger that you felt. While this might’ve just been your role as Ego’s protector speaking, you knew that your sister felt similarly. Mantis had once offered to put you to sleep using her powers, which you’d agreed to. Although it had worked, you hadn’t liked the feeling of your emotions being messed with, or the vulnerability that came with sleep. Even though you trusted that your sister wouldn’t hurt you, Ego was a different story entirely.
So, that meant that you were up most of the time with only catnaps and snatches of sleep when absolutely necessary. (Luckily your enhanced stamina helped in this case so it wasn’t terribly detrimental to your wellbeing.) It was hard to hide your unusual sleep patterns on the Milano with your new friends since there wasn’t space to walk around like there had been on Ego’s planet. But the Guardians all had various traumas of their own, so they understood the difficulty of getting peaceful rest. Some nights had even been better than others as Peter would teach you how to play Terran card games, which would then include the rest of the Guardians once you’d learned.
You also liked to sit in the pilot’s chair late at night and watch the darkness of space light up around you. It was funny, really; everyone expected space to be a dark, black vacuum of nothing when it was actually just the opposite. Sure, there was no physical form of life, but space was alive in its own way. As the Milano sailed aimlessly through the stars, you’d pass the orange-red clouds of dust and gas— nebulas. Or the brilliant white-blue of a dying star, or the different hues of blue-black that surrounded you. Space was truly beautiful, which was something that you never tried to take for granted.
But now you were stuck on Knowhere. There were no brilliant colors of space to distract you or friends to play card games with. Mantis was gone— your only source of comfort on those long nights when you’d served your father. You were alone, with nothing but a Zune to distract you as you sat, bored, in the kitchen late into the night. You’d decided on some calmer tunes and were currently listening to the Frank Sinatra playlist you’d curated. A warm mug of tea— which Peter had also introduced you to— sat between your hands as your eyes glazed over, getting lost in your music.
--
As it turned out, Adam wasn’t that great of a sleeper, either. It always felt like there was too much energy running through him to be properly restful— not to mention that, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his mother waiting for him as he flew desperately towards her. And then the explosion would come, jolting him out of sleep as a reminder of his failure.
With a sigh, he pushed back his covers and stood. Since he was already dressed (his mother had always told him to be ready for anything), he made his way to the kitchen where he’d baked cookies with you. It hadn’t been that long ago, but he already missed the comfortable, homey feeling he’d gotten as he formed the batter into spheres with you standing at his side. You had yet to talk to Rocket about how his comments made you feel, but he knew it was because you respected your teammate and didn’t like making a big deal out of things. Thinking about you now, he sort of hoped that he would see you in the kitchen when he got there— but that was a crazy thought; it was the middle of the night! Any normal person would be in a deep sleep by now.
So, it was definitely a pleasant surprise when he came upon you, sitting at the head of the table. Your earbuds were in your ears, as usual, and you seemed to be deep in thought as you absentmindedly traced the rim of your mug with your finger. He was comfortable enough with you to approach you without hesitation, so he took the chair next to yours and nudged you gently to get your attention.
You jumped, startled by the unexpected presence of someone else in the room. At first you had a wild thought that it might be Peter, who came to keep you company as he often had. You were only mildly disappointed to see that it was Adam instead (and this was just because you missed your brother; you were actually quite happy to see the golden boy.) You took out your earbuds and paused your music. “You’re up late. Or early.”
His golden eyes met yours— something you noticed that he did often; it seemed that eye contact was his way of showing that he was listening to you, which always made your stomach flutter pleasantly. “So are you,” he replied. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nah,” you said with a shrug. “You?”
“Me either,” he agreed.
You sat in a comfortable silence together, one so long that you were almost tempted to  put your earbuds back in. Maybe this was a one-off thing; you’d never seen him before on your sleepless nights. Maybe he wasn’t used to being up at this hour and just wasn’t as talkative as he normally was with you. But you were also curious; what could a supposedly perfect being be troubled with at night? So, you sighed, and against your better judgement (as you hated to talk about your feelings), you asked, “wanna talk about it?”
But Adam also knew how you were, and he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind just sitting here.” He got to enjoy your company, after all, so he considered tonight to be better than most.
You let out another sigh. As much as you hated getting touchy-feely, the night was already very boring; sitting and not talking would only make it worse. “I don’t mind, actually. I’m used to being around other people when I’m up like this. Talking would make the time pass faster.” You studied his expression for a moment, which was unusually unreadable; it always seemed like he had a kind smile or glance to send your way. “We can start off easy, if you want. Are you up like this every night?”
His expression softened at your willingness to go outside your comfort zone, so he answered honestly. (He had nothing that he wanted to hide from you, anyway.) “Most nights, yeah. What about you?”
“Same,” you agreed. You played with the rubber protective tip on your earbud. “Can’t get to sleep or bad dreams?”
“Both,” Adam admitted. “Although it’s usually the first one.”
You nodded. “Same, again, but for me it’s mostly the latter. You remember when I said that you weren’t the first person to try and kill me?” At his confirmation (because how could he have forgotten that?), you continued, “yeah. It’s mostly that. My father was a great parent,” you finished sarcastically.
When you’d first become friends, you’d shared stories about the Guardians’ adventures— even the ones that had happened before you’d joined the team— although they’d mostly been lighthearted in tone. You’d acted like they hadn’t really affected you and had laughed at the fact that your father’s planet had tried to swallow you whole. Adam sort of wished that your father was still alive so he could fight him for you. While his mother had had her moments of parenting issues, he’d never doubted that she did love him; it was clear that this wasn’t the case with your father.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not really sure what else he could say. Despite everything that had happened to you, you were still a good person; you hadn’t fought the Guardians on your first meeting like he had, which already made you better than him. He wished that there was something he could do (such as getting revenge for you) to help ease whatever burden you were feeling as you often had for him, but there didn’t seem like there was anything that he could do.
“Don’t worry about it,” you replied in a blasé tone, already moving on from your heavy things. “Want to talk about your stuff?”
He shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable to admit his failure to you. He wanted to prove that he was just as capable as you were, and this was one of his worst moments. “I. . . keep thinking about my mother.” His gaze dropped to where his hands were folded on the table, unable to watch your reaction in case you thought worse of him. “How I. . . wasn’t able to save her. I was so close, too. If only I’d been faster—”
You reached out a hand to put it on top of both of his, cutting him off. Yours was much smaller in comparison, barely covering even one of his hands. He looked up at you with surprise, feeling his face heat up at the contact. Your usually jovial expression was uncharacteristically serious as you chided him gently, “stop. Thinking like that never helps, you know. You’ll drive yourself mad if you keep wondering ‘what if.’ I should know.”
While he was relieved that his fears about your reaction were unfounded, he frowned at your last words. “What do you mean?”
You pretended not to notice that your hands were still holding his as you answered, “remember what I told you about the Snap?” At his nod, you continued, “Peter and I were the only ones who weren’t trying to subdue Thanos. My powers are mostly defensive, so they would only anger him, which was the opposite of what we were trying to do. Peter got— understandably— distraught at the news of Gamora’s death and he was practically solely responsible for the Snap.” You sighed heavily, dropping your gaze from him. “As the only other person not doing anything on that planet, I could’ve stopped him, but he was my brother; I couldn’t hurt him. But if I had. . . everything could’ve been so much different. In a way, I was responsible for the Snap, too.”
While he understood your reasoning, he didn’t completely agree with it. You’d filled him in with great detail about the Infinity War, which you’d only learned the missing parts after you’d been brought back. So, he insisted quietly, “Thor could’ve also gone for Thanos’ head, but he didn’t.”
“But Thanos wouldn’t have even gotten to the Terran planet if we’d stopped him on Titan. You see what I mean? These what-ifs really messed with my head— still do. You eventually just have to accept the fact that the situation can’t be changed and learn from your mistakes.” In a lighter tone you added, “I promised myself that the next time I needed to sock it to Peter, I wouldn’t hesitate. Maybe a good hit to the head would knock some common sense back into him.”
Adam chuckled at this, his serious expression lifting. Sensing that you didn’t want to talk about such emotional topics anymore, he changed the subject slightly. “So you’re up every night because of these thoughts? Don’t you need sleep?”
“Yeah, but I’ve got enhanced stamina, so not as much as a regular person,” you said, relieved that he picked up on your hint. “What about you? You’re practically a god yourself.”
He felt his face flush with (pleased) embarrassment at your indirect compliment, even if it was truthful. “That’s part of the problem, I think,” he explained. “All this power. . . it gives me too much energy and. . . I can’t sleep.”
You frowned thoughtfully at your similar predicaments, an idea (admittedly, a stupid enough one that Peter could’ve come up with it) forming in your mind. “Y’know,” you began slowly, “Peter taught me a Terran phrase awhile back. I can’t exactly remember how it goes— it’s like two positives equal a negative, or something like that— and it means that when there’s two good things, it cancels out the bad one. We could try and apply it here.”
He gave you a curious look. “Really? How?”
“Well, since we both can’t sleep— that’s the negative— maybe. . . maybe if we slept. . .” You felt your face burning at your suggestion. “If we slept. . . tog— well, not together-together, I mean— with each— does that sound worse? I—” you struggled to find the right wording that wouldn’t come off as suggestive. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you added hastily, misunderstanding his bemused expression.
“Little Quill,” he teased you lightly, “you haven’t even gotten the question out.”
Oh. You only felt even more embarrassed. “Do you want to sleep in my room?” you finally managed to blurt out, burying your face in your hands, unable to look at the boy across from you.
Instead of taking offense or making fun of you as you’d expected, Adam seemed to actually consider your offer. “Do you think it would work?”
At his question, you dropped your hands to your lap and shrugged, though your face was still very red. He seemed remarkably unflustered, not that you could tell if he was (damn his beautiful golden skin— wait, what?) “I don’t know,” you mumbled, still refusing to look at him. “I can only sleep if I feel safe, and there’s only one person I ever felt that way with— Mantis. But. . . now I think that includes you, too.”
Adam couldn’t help the bright smile that formed on his face at your words, the thought that you felt safe with him (especially after everything that he’d done to you and your friends) meant more than he could say. The thought that you would willingly be vulnerable in his presence made his stomach feel enjoyably— and inexplicably— nauseous. “I feel safe around you too,” he replied without hesitation. “And. . . I wouldn’t mind trying it.”
--
Not long after, the two of you returned to the room you were renting in the dorm-style building. Since neither you nor Adam had family to speak of (and were also short on funds), you’d both found rooms in a tenant building that had lots of other people, many of whom had lost their homes during the Guardians’ most recent adventures. Luckily you’d gotten a room to yourself, though you had to share basic facilities with everyone else.
“You can sleep in the bed since this was my idea,” you offered. You were still in what you considered your pajamas, so you just had to gather some spare blankets and pillows.
Adam shook his head, against the thought of you making accommodations for him. “I can sleep on the floor. You shouldn’t have to give up your bed.”
“It’s not like I use it much anyway,” you joke, pulling the covers back. “But if you’re seriously against me sleeping on the floor, I guess we could. . . share?”
He seemed not to mind your proposal as he agreed readily, and after taking off his shoes, he made to get in when you spoke again with a confused look on your face. “You. . . sleep in your clothes? No wonder why you can’t get comfortable!”
Adam seemed to not understand your comment. “You sleep in your clothes.”
You laughed a little at his observation. “These are sleep clothes, not everyday clothes. At least take off your jacket,” you reasoned.
But as he did so, you realized why he hadn’t gotten more comfortable: there was nothing except chiseled chest under his clothes. You blushed and tried (but failed) not to stare as he got into bed next to you, admiring the way his muscles flexed with his movement. Luckily he seemed to not notice your attention as he settled next to you. There was a sizeable gap between you two despite the bed not being very big, one that you wished you had the guts to close. (Wait— again, what?)
You wondered how you’d ever get to sleep with all that muscle right behind you (okay, this one you could admit freely), but somehow, in the quiet stillness of your dark room, the safe, peaceful feeling lulled you into the first restful slumber that you’d had since your siblings had left months ago.
--
And if you woke up the next morning, curled up against Adam’s chest with his arm wrapped around you protectively, neither of you bothered to say anything about it.
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morallyinept · 3 months
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Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 2
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Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.
Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.
And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?
Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude
Chapter word count: 3.7k
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻
Chapter notes: Frankie takes an offer. Jude is left floundering.
Enjoy! 🖤
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Chapter 1
He’s exhausted and any chance of sleep seems like a farfetched pipedream.
The current is still choppy and he’s using all his strength to stay on the piece of wreckage that’s undoubtedly saving his life right now as he rides the waves that are unrelenting and battering his body. 
Franke isn’t entirely sure when nightfall had swallowed him up, or hasn’t a clue at how far into the night he actually is in terms of time. He can’t see his watch in the pitch dark. 
He lays on his back, hands gripping either side of the wreckage with them submerged into the cold water with a tight hold; the pain in his side is aching profusely and the burning sensation still makes its harsh presence known across his neck skin. 
His throat is dry and coarse and he stares up into the black, not really able to separate the horizon from the deep pit of space above him; just swallowed in a deep intense darkness that seems incredibly lonely and innately scary.
After a while, he starts to see images in the darkness when he looks inside it for so long; little dots of colour that merge and weave themselves into thoughts and memories that soon become shapes and birth a life of their own.
They begin twisting into hallucinations and nightmare images that plague his mind over and over, of an aeroplane crashing into the ocean, fire burning his skin and so much blood curdling screaming that deafens him; a vile ringing in his ears that shakes him out of any sleep he drifts into. 
He has nothing to do but to relive them all over and over to the point he’s unsure whether he’s residing in reality anymore or not. 
Freezing ocean water splashes over Frankie’s torso again and he shudders from the cold; his teeth begin that uncontrollable chatter as his arms shake through his intense grip on the debris with exhausted nerves. 
Frankie isn’t a religious man; he’s seen and done so many terrible things in his time in Delta Force to know there is a first class seat waiting for him in Hell. Will's right, the numbers never lie. 9. 28. 39. 87. 208. 674. The numbers never lie, Frankie. 9 physical scars. 28 stitches. 39 confirmed kills. 87 civilians. 208 days spent on the front line in the desert heat. 674 bullets. Yeah, Hell is definitely where he'll end up.
But at this moment, he closes his eyes tight and prays wholly that he won’t die out here alone in the frightening ocean, waiting for its moment to swallow him up whole. 
Please God; please don’t let me die like this, por favor Dios… Please.
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One Month Prior...
Frankie had decided he needed to get away a few days after the break up. 
The pressure was crushing him from every angle, and he was looking for breaks in his employment schedule to take advantage of before the impulses took advantage of him. 
As he scanned down the calendar on the fuzzy computer system screen, he noticed the trembles in his fingers once more and balled them away into a fist. 
Living in a contented denial clearly didn’t serve any other purpose than causing more stress and anxiety in the long run, and those thick fingers of his twitched with temptation on the daily the more he was left to sit and dwell in those darkening thoughts. 
He knows he should have severed that festering limb of his failing relationship a long time ago, would have saved Carla and he both the heartache of playing pretend, but evidently he hadn't the resolve in him to step up to the task in a long time.
Push came to a dramatic shove when he was back in New York, in the aviation workshop down by the docks; tinkering with engine and turbine parts. His hands greased up and calloused, when his phone rang on the work bench beside him. 
Eddie’s name flashes up on the screen and Frankie knows he can’t avoid his sponsor for much longer.
“Frank. I’ve not heard from you, I’ve been worried.” Eddie's voice on the phone cuts into the steam rolling inside of Frankie’s ears as soon as he answers, preparing himself for a condescending verbal assault. “Are you doing okay, bud?”
An ex-addict himself, although heroin is his poison, Eddie is all that Frankie can only ever hope to aspire to be with regards to his sobriety. He makes it look so easy. Eleven years sober and Frankie’s measly six months already feel like a lifetime weighing him down.
A pillar in the local community, Eddie is admired and revered and has received various accolades with his gummy grin plastered in the newspaper and on the programme's website, and Frankie is always reminded how lucky he is to have Eddie supporting him at group therapy, as he nods like a zombie behind a polystyrene cup of watered down coffee that tastes like scum swilling around in the bottom of an engine.
He’d like to keep his own teeth though, whereas Eddie has gaps in his gums from the abuse of injecting on the streets for years. And Frankie knows he came close to being on the streets himself. Things took a particularly bad turn after Tom’s death and Frankie is still haunted by it nightly.
It got so bad that he blacked out. Took too much. They told him his heart had stopped. That was the first time Carla had seen him like that; up until then being able to manage the coke in secret binges to quiet the tornado of his mind.
It was also the first time he had to admit to having an actual problem.
He remembers coming round to the worried yells of Benny calling his name and slapping at his face until he was coherent, and Carla’s mascara streaked, red eyes regarding him like a frightened gazelle.
After he was discharged from the hospital, he promised her he would finally get help. Even if a part of him didn't really want to.
And yet he’s been inadvertently avoiding Eddie like the plague as of late too. His own successes marring Frankie’s inner turmoil and guilt at how his life has careened so far out of his control and into the shit-stained toilet bowl. 
He lost everything; his friends, his job, family members even turned their backs on him. He still remembers the look of disappointment on his dad's face and that hurt more than he would ever let on. He had to pull himself out from the bottom of the gutter, and some days he just wants to throw himself back in there and be done with it all.
“Yeah, man. I’ve just been busy with work. I meant to call you sooner.” His tone is all apologetic, but there’s a chattering to his teeth that’s prevalent, despite him trying to quell it. His gums ache profusely and have done for days now.
“You’ve been missed at group sessions too.”
Frankie hangs his head in subjugation, even though Eddie can’t see it. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m okay-”
“Frank.”
“I promise. I’m fine.” Frankie sighs with a heavy gruff. 
“You don’t sound fine.”
Get off my case, man. “Just tired. I’ve been posted on a few jobs back to back. Keeping me busy, you know how it is.” 
“Listen, I'm glad you’re working so much. And it’s a great job, really. You’re lucky to have gotten it, what with everything you’ve been through-” Ah. There it is. The condescension. The pity. The ‘you’re so lucky’ speech. Frankie bites down on his lip and suppresses a growl. Hijo de puta. 
“-But it would be really good to see you. Check in.”
Check up on me, more like. “Yeah.” Frankie scratches at the back of his head where the curled chocolate tufts fall out from under his cap and grow unruly at his sun-kissed nape. He should probably get a haircut soon. “I’m not sure when I can get the time off-”
“Frank. You have to make the time for your sobriety or your addiction will take more time from you. What I’d tell you, hmm?” 
“I know, I know. I'm trying…” And he is. One foot in front of the other, asshole.
“You’ve got time for a coffee with me this afternoon. I know they don’t work you so ragged that you can’t grab thirty and a cup of Joe. What do you say?”
“I, uh-”
“Morales!” His name is called, echoing down the workshop and Frankie looks up, swallowing coarsely as he notices the rotund silhouette of his superior traipsing over to him across the mottled floor. 
“Listen, I gotta go. Not supposed to take personal calls at work.” Frankie murmurs.
“Frank, wait-”
He hangs up the phone.
“Morales, you got a sec?” His senior retorts and looks over the work bench at the melee of wires and stripped metal parts. 
“Dustin.” Frankie nods curtly. “Everything alright?”
“Peachy. Listen, you know choppers don't you? I heard Malik saying you used to be in the forces or something?”
Dustin regards him through the magnification of his glasses smeared with fingerprints that seem to glow under the dull strip lights. There’s damp patches on his beige shirt spreading from the underarms, and there's always a waft of menthol emanating from the gum he ceaselessly chews on.
“Yeah,” Frankie takes his cap off and runs his hand through his grease slicked curls. “I used to uh, fly.” He shifts uneasily on his feet.
“Air Force?”
“Special Ops. D-Delta Force.” 
“Nice.” Dustin nods with raised eyebrows. "Got you one of those fancy military pensions, eh?"
“Not really.” Frankie rebuts as he glances away briefly. He wills his mind not to visit the memories. 
"What rank were you?" Dustin enquires curiously.
"Captain. Aviation."
“Hmm. Makes me think you’re the right man then.”
“For what?” Frankie asks as he turns his concentration back to Dustin.
A man shorter and more rounder at the waist than Frankie is, with his own middle age spread starting to puff out of him now that he no longer has the daily, gruelling exercise drills, but a man that also took a chance on him when his applications were rejected time and time again. One that Frankie doesn’t want to let down, but knows somewhere along the line, he probably will. It's inevitable.
This job has been a lifeline, despite the long back and forth between the New York and Florida bases, pulling him out of a heavy routine funk, where he’d had nothing else to do except plug his nose with the white stuff. Now he chugs six shots of coffee on the regular to stay awake and alert.
He knows that he owes Dustin his life in some regards. And he’s trying so hard not to let him down. He’ll always be trying, for the rest of his damn life. 
“Got a new base on contract that needs some birds fixin’ up. Couple of older models. Hawks, twin hueys. Stuff like that. Most of the guys here know shit about rotary blades.” Dustin explains. 
“Military use?”  
“Ex. They want ‘em for rescue copters now. Recycling. It’s a month long posting, maybe more work if you impress the seniors over there. Perhaps a permanent relocation. Can bump up your pay too."
“Where?” Frankie queries as he considers the appeal. 
“Madagascar.”
“Wow, really? Shit…” Frankie says, still nodding. The appeal tweaks further at something within him. 
“Yeah. All travel expenses in; you just gotta show up n’ fix the shit they can’t. You up for it?”
Frankie nods without hesitation. It’s not like he has anything keeping him here anymore now. Carla’s gone. Benny still hasn’t messaged him back. He’s convinced his dad has fully disowned him now...
“Yeah. Sounds good, actually.” 
“Well alright. I’ll book you a flight. You’ll go next Wednesday on probation for a month. That work for you?” 
Frankie nods so much that his neck now aches. “Works for me.”
“Good. I’ll sort your visa paperwork. Nice one, Morales. Or should I say, Captain.” He salutes with a weak two fingers as he turns on his scuffed heels.
“Thanks, Dustin.” Frankie grimaces.
Dustin waves behind him as he carries on back up the workshop leaving Frankie to mull over the horror of a burgeoning packing list.
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“I’m glad you agreed to meet me. I’ve missed you.”
“Have you?” Jude asks tentatively, yet her arms are still folded across her chest like they were from the moment she'd entered this wretched place.
She hadn’t taken her coat off; she knew she wouldn’t be staying long.
“Yeah, course, babe. I ordered you a hot chocolate; extra cream. I know you like those.” Nate says with a buoyant grin. 
“I also like not being cheated on.” Jude mutters and looks down at the hot chocolate with despair. Some of the cream has already melted and slid down the side of the mug leaving the foamy remains from its sad little death. 
I don’t think I like hot chocolate anymore...
“I came here to explain. It’s not how you think it is-” Nate begins like he always does. Pulling out and smoothing down that well-rehearsed script.
“Really? How is it that your dick ended up inside her then? Did you trip and fall?” Jude remarks a little too loudly.
It stirs a quizzical look from a couple drinking from their coffees adjacent to them both. But she doesn't care. He’s embarrassed as he leans forward and hushes at her to keep her voice down. 
She picks up her mug and slurps at the mess that does nothing to quell the anger or thirst. It’s already cold and it irks her even more.
“Why do we even come here? This place can never serve up hot, hot chocolate!” She exclaims, tossing the mug down clumsily on the table and slouching back in the chair in defiance. “I mean the clue is in the fucking name - hot chocolate, right?”
Technically it’s her own fault, dithering around outside, and deciding whether to actually come in or not, when he’d already got the two mugs on the table at that point. She’d watched Nate through the window for a while from across the sidewalk wondering why on earth she was giving him the chance to explain his inherent disloyalty.
He fiddled with his phone incessantly as he waited for her.
She observed him keep picking it up and checking the screen. He was a fiddler when he was anxious; one of those people who can’t bear a few moments without human interaction whilst she goes to the restroom, or gets another drink without him, and so resorts to hiding himself away in the virtual world in the palm of his hand for distraction from his lonesome visibility. 
She resented it now, whereas at first it was endearing. He had a lot of endearing traits in the beginning. Now she wondered if it was the other woman he was tapping out a message to on the keypad, or the harem of other women that hung around him like a bad smell, whilst he was waiting for her to arrive and meet him to just talk, he had said.
Which was code for berating her unremittingly until she folds like a deck of cards and she comes back home again. 
Jude knows she’s a chump for agreeing to it. But he had hounded her so much it was always easy to give in and to type out okay fine! To get a moment’s peace from the barrage of false apologies filling up her inboxes.
It was so unfair of him to do this; to ask her to come to what was once fondly known as their place. She’d never be able to come in here again, although that wasn’t exactly a big loss considering they couldn’t serve her up a scalding fucking hot chocolate on a nippy spring day, right?
“I don’t want to hear what you’ve got to say, Nate. What you did is unforgivable and I’m not interested in hearing your lies anymore.” Jude says bitterly and not looking at him. She couldn’t look at him. If she did, he’d dig his claws in all over again.
“I never meant to hurt you, babe.” Nate says with his fingers clamped around his own mug. Lie.
“Yes you did,” she swallows. “If you didn’t, you would never have fucked her, or any of the others.”
“I’m sorry.” He lies again like he’s a skilled craftsman at it; they just tumble out of his mouth with ease. His first word was probably a lie too.
Try as she might, the sordid images present themselves to her again like they have done ever since. It’s like a vile replay that won’t relent, a bit like clicking onto a harmless website on your work computer and explicit porn ads flash up and won’t close down no matter how many times you click the exit button, whilst your colleagues behind you think you’re a sordid kinkster into hardcore anal.
And she lives in that moment over and over again and has done for the past few days since it happened.
And now she’s here; sitting in this café opposite him and allowing him to spoon feed her more lies and excuses as her cheeks fill with the toxic mush. 
And she swallows them all down, gorging herself on them until she vomits and shits out his words all over herself again and again, and she’s not sure why she’s allowing him to do it; she isn't sure of anything anymore.
Nate’s voice rouses Jude’s attention back to him and out of that continual fuzzing loop. “I’m sorry.” He reaches for her hand on the table and she snaps it back, fearing that if he touches her that will be it - she’ll be hooked again.
The stark reality of the conversation - or rather the words he had just fired lazily at her - starts to sink in and it’s somewhat a hard feat to comprehend. For a moment, it stops everything in its tracks as though the world has stopped rotating around the sun on its axis, and people are frozen on pause midway through drinking their coffees or taking a step forward towards the cash register.
“You’ll always be sorry, Nate.” Jude pushes the hot chocolate away from her and back towards him. “But it doesn’t mean a fucking thing.” 
He’s become a stranger in front of her very eyes. Gone was the hand holding and laughter to be replaced by indifferent scowls and thoughts of imminent murder.
She stands up quickly, knocking the table slightly. The last of the cream that’s holding onto dear life on the rim of the mug slides down it like the fluffy remains of a dying snowman.
“Please-” Nate stands up with her and reaches for her hand once more, but she snatches it out of the way and shoves it into her pocket. 
Why is he fighting for this when he clearly doesn’t give a shit? 
“No Nate. We’re done. It’s over; for good this time.” Jude reaffirms and something inside her gives her a proud high-five. 
She pulls her scarf tighter around her throat. Perhaps if she strangles herself with it, it would feel better. 
“But I love you!” He protests and it cracks her open like it always does. 
He said he loved you, Jude. 
He even said it after the unfaithful act; probably more than he had ever done so before he was caught with his pants down.
Does she love him though, really love him? Was he the man that she wanted to wake up with every morning and go to bed with every night, for what, the rest of her life? Because that’s a long, long time. She has to be sure, right?
Jude’s head becomes swamped full of all the good memories, right back from the beginning as though she’s flicking through an old photo book of their time together. And, of course, it's utter agony.
She’d imagined what Nate would be like as a full time, fully committed boyfriend when she’d first met him through a mutual friend during a rare night out. Oh yeah, she’d considered the fantasy of it; walking down the street hand in hand with him and curling up on the couch after a long day, him rubbing her feet until she would be woozy with the relaxation of it all.
She’d played out the dating scenario in her mind over and over again, to the point where it was on the cusp of escaping her mouth and firing the omission at him that she really did like him and his cute butt, but the fear of rejection prevented her from ever saying it out loud. That and the fact his bad boy reputation preceded him.
She worked away a lot, a successful, yet hard slog of a career as a landscape photographer for a popular tourism company, and with freelance work topping up her bank balance on the side, Jude was never home much as a consequence to seeing the world through a lens.
But Nate asked her questions about her travels with a twinkle in his eye and he couldn’t possibly like her like that, no way. He was never preferential to her, laughing with the other women in their group of mutual chums and flirting openly with anyone with a pulse, including her. It was just his niche, a personality trait that meant no harm.
He was slightly older, needed a robust woman and she was just a silly thing; drowning herself in gloom filled thoughts about how he could ever desire her like that. She was a nomad, her, her camera and backpack with no real roots. What could she offer him beyond that? 
Coupled with the pieces of his personality that irked her and would crop up and shove themselves in her face; it made her double think that actually she was probably better off staying single.
Like the way he would drench his hotdog in layers of mustard on Labour Day and it would be dripping down his chin and in his teeth when he spoke to her through sloppy mouthfuls. Watching mangled pieces of chewed meat churning around his mouth like they were tumbling in a dryer wasn’t exactly an attractive trait in a man. 
The way that he would bite all the skin off of his bottom lip until it bled when driving and then spit it out, so tiny, minute pieces of his body, alongside dust and umpteen Dr Pepper cans would be found in the foot well of his messy Camry. Jude hated that whenever she would get in it, she had to fight with a suffocating onslaught of burger wrappers and empty coffee cups in order to get a seat. 
That’s not to say he was all bad; Nate’s unapologetically good looking with a smile that starts in his sky blue eyes and breaks out fully on his face, lighting it up like the giant Christmas tree outside the Rockefeller Center every year, and she likes that she always manages bring it out of him with her quips and stupid jokes, even when he’s tired and grumpy.
He’s generous, sometimes too generous, with his friends and with her alike, and he loves his dog Casper unconditionally, and talks to him like he can understand the dog’s growls, and yaps back at him like Doctor-friggin’- Doolittle before he lets the pup make out with him after licking his butt.
But fear of the unknown and trepidation about breaking away from the usual, the expected and the comfortable status quo that was her life, was somewhat harder to do than envision. Plus throw in the innate fear of rejection and she has an emotional Molotov cocktail ready for self-destructive disaster. 
But then he changed it. Nate came in and messed it all up and asked her to be his girlfriend, asked her to move in to his fashionable loft on the Upper East Side; asked her to marry him. It was a cruel, callous joke because not long after that Jude caught him cheating for the first time - that she knew about anyway.
Fool me once, shame on you. 
He blamed it on alcohol; one to many yadder, yadder. She meant nothing, babe honestly. Just a stupid mistake - I love you.
Those three, little, well executed words were enough to have Jude come scarpering back to him. And for a while things were rosy again. Until the next time it happened. 
Fool me twice, shame on me.
And the time after that. And the time after that...
“Don’t call me again.” Jude warns him with a disgusted side glance as Nate shrinks back into his seat. 
She marches out of the café and makes her way back out into the street towards her beat up car, unable to feel the cold air of the Big Apple nipping at her skin - unable to feel anything really, but sheer, drowning panic. 
Now what?
To be continued...
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aseaofyoongi · 7 months
Text
where feelings bloom | kth
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kim taehyung x reader (f)
genre: fluff | smut | bffs to lovers
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: vacations are the time of self reflections and revelations. so, what happens when your last day in paradise involves you trying to decipher the feelings that you’ve had blooming for your best friend kim taehyung.
warnings: where do i begin lol; post college universe; suppressed feelings; overthinking; crush culture; foul language; vag fingering; overstimulation; clitoral stimulation; pentrative sex; protected sex (wrap it up friends); non-idol au; praise; dirty talk; tae is focused on oc’s pleasure only; unlabeled relationships; no plans for a part two; out of season au (happy beginning of fall) ; not edited
word count: ~ 5.6 thousand words
posted: tuesday october 4, 2023
notable songs: ivy - frank ocean | are we still friends - tyler, the creator | todo cambio - camila | a drop in the ocean - ron pope
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Mornings were your favorite part of the day. Although, not many people agree with that ideology you couldn’t help but be enamored by the way day the birds chirped their peaceful melody awakening you right up from your slumber, the glare of the beaming sun highlighting its waves of heat right into your face, the song of the crashing of waves against the shore. . but most of all you loved that for the last eight nights you have been waking up in an island paradise and you got to share it with your absolute favorite person in the entire world. Your best friend, Taehyung. 
Your soulmate, well platonic soulmate; your other half; your light in the darkest of tunnels. That’s who he was and honestly you couldn’t even recall a minute or even a second in the course of your life when Taehyung hadn’t been there with you. 
You met Taehyung long ago. Twenty-one years ago to be precise—marking the very moment you came out of your mother’s womb. Your mother’s had been best friends for years (still are), so your birth marked the day when you would meet your mother and father; but it also marked the day when you met Taehyung. He was already a couple of weeks older than you but your mother’s paired you up and built a friendship among the two of you long before you ran around in diapers together, bathed in kiddie pools with your favorite toys, before you took your first steps or even uttered your very first words. 
By definition, you were meant to be in Taehyung’s life and Taehyung was meant to be in yours. There was no re-writing that bit of history and besides you’d never do it even if you could. The constellations of your stars align and are guided right into each other’s path. 
Truly. He is going to be your person today, tomorrow and hopefully an eternity after that. You’ll always be there for him even after the sun dims and the oceans dry. There is no one you’d rather call your best friend and no one else who you would rather have invading every inch of your life. 
The door to the connecting room swung open and surely enough there he was leaning against the door frame. The blonde streaks of his wet hair fell past his dark brown eyes and thick eyebrows covering their entirety. On the same note you finally registered that he only wore a pair of gray sweat shorts that hung low on his hips; all while he remained bare on the top half of his body showing off his lean physique and although Taehyung didn’t have abs he was still fit—very awe striking. 
“Whatever happened to ceasing the day?” he exclaimed, his eyes turned to fiery pits as he likely replayed whatever crazy scenario he had planned for the day back in his head, “it’s nine in the morning. What are you still doing in bed. .  Why are you still in your pajamas?” 
“I was too lazy to get up,” you looked at the digital clock on the night stand beside you blinking its bright red numbers back at your sleep-riddled eyes. 
“Tonight is our last night on this slice of paradise heaven so get your ass up and let’s go let’s go let’s go,” he snapped his fingers before ripping the covers off of your body. 
“We have over twenty-four hours before we gotta head back home,” you patted the empty spot on the bed next to you and he jumped right in, cozying up under the covers, “just let me lay here for like ten more more. Is that okay with you, mom?” 
He groaned, “Fine but we better be up in ten minutes or I plan to carry you right down to the beach, pajamas and all.” 
“Yeah, sure,” you pulled the white duvet over your head signaling you were ready to drift back into the remnant of tiredness that lingered behind from all the activities you had partook in for the past week, “just ten more minutes. Just ten,” you mumbled, your eyes felt heavy as you drifted back into a deep slumber. 
“Just ten,” you heard his voice from a distance, so far away. Yet his body heat lingered close by and the apricity was easily welcomed against the skin of your back. 
Ten minutes turned into four hours and by the time your eyes fluttered open it was just after four in the afternoon. The sun still beamed bright through the drawn blinds heating up your body as the rays met your skin. You stretched carefully and rubbed sleep off your eyes before turning around to face Taehyung. He remained sound asleep—eyes shut tightly, mouth slightly ajar, and soft snores sounding like the steady, peaceful melody of lullabies.
Taehyung is truly beautiful. So beautiful, in-fact that it kind of made you stop in your tracks every so often and you couldn’t help but just look at him. Drinking in his striking features; his big brown eyes, his hair soft like silk, and his raucous voice so deep and soothing. 
Taehyung is truly a work of art. So much so that every candid moment captured behind the pixels of his pictures belonged in art galleries around the world. 
You noticed you were attracted to your best friend the summer after your sophomore year of high school. The two of you had spent the entire summer together—inseparable as usual. But towards the end of the summer as the first day of school approached, you and Taehyung engaged in a short adventure to the lake on the outskirts of town. You’d had truly an amazing time and you ended up inside a small diner having greasy food and chocolate shakes. You hadn’t processed it back then but looking back now you remember the way your heart was pounding, the way your palms were sweaty and the way all of your butterflies flapped their wings against the pit of your stomach. 
It’s so obvious looking back now—how much you truly liked him while you sat in that booth in the back of that diner. There, it felt like no one else inhabited the establishment. Just the two of you and the secret that took root in your heart. 
A secret so taboo you buried it somewhere deep in the back of your mind, but every time your eyes caught a glimpse of him there it all was. Everything, all over again, causing a daze in your mind and making your chest ache. 
“Wake up, Tae Tae,” you shook him slightly, pushing all of those thoughts aside. 
“Huh?” he groaned, twisting and turning mindlessly in the ocean of sheets. 
“We have gone against your beloved schedule for the day and I’m afraid I was the culprit,” you sat up against the headboard and he followed along laying his head on your shoulder. 
“We didn’t just sleep for ten minutes did we?” 
You shook my head, “it’s around four o’clock right now.” 
“That chopped off half of my itinerary,” his voice was soothing—gruff with hints of exhaustion lingering behind. 
“Oh, come one,” you cooed, “what’s left?” 
“The beach is just across the street, the pool’s downstairs or we can go out to get something to eat.” 
“What do you really wanna do?” you asked. 
He yawned widely mimicking a cub; so cute.
“Maybe we can lounge around by the pool for a bit and come back up here to order food,” he suggests, “I know I had hours planned of things to do for the day but I’m kind of exhausted.” 
“It’s not like you to skip out on the beach. . are you sure you wanna just go to the pool?” 
“Actually. .” he continued in his smooth voice, “I don’t even think I have the energy for that.” 
“Impossible!” you exclaimed, “you don’t get to be lazy, that’s my thing.” 
“It’s contagious,” Taehyung whined, snuggling closer to your side.  His cheeks felt like fire on your shoulder and you swore having him that close caused your breath to hitch at your throat. 
“So what—what, uh,” you cleared your throat, “what do you wanna do instead? Do we stay in for our last day here?” 
He nodded, “I think so. I mean, we’ve done a lot of things for the past few days.” 
“Do you wanna pick the movie or the food for us tonight?” 
“I refuse to watch a horror movie tonight so I’m in charge of picking the movie,” he reached for the remote control on the table next to his side of the bed. 
You rolled your eyes, picking up the phone and looking through the booklet the hotel provided with a number of different restaurant chains and their menus. After a bit of back and forth between you and Tae as you tried to settle on things, you decided on pizza and a random rom-com on one of the dozen streaming apps provided on the television. 
Fifteen minutes later, the food had arrived and Taehyung sat beside you once again, your elbows dangerously close. Your mind, barely on the movie that’s been playing for approximately thirty minutes now, your pizza sat cold on your plastic plate and your thoughts assimilate a busy intersection. 
There are so many things you could do but every single one also sat dangerously close to being the end of your friendship with Kim Taehyung. 
“Are you okay?” Taehyung closed the pizza box sitting in front of his crossed legs. 
You reeled yourself back from your thoughts, “yeah, I’m okay.” 
“You’ve been mindlessly staring at your slice of pizza for the past thirty minutes,” he added, placing his hand on your shoulder, “are you sure you’re okay?” 
This is how it’s been for some time now. Taehyung remained as soon as ever engaging in the sweetest gestures of comfort a best friend could engage in while your stupid, stupid mind developed its own reality of translating his platonic touches into something more—something it’ll never be. 
“I’m okay really. I guess I’m just uh, not that hungry,” you forced a smile on your lips, it actually hurt, “I’m gonna get some fresh air.” 
You opened the glass sliding door and walked out onto the balcony, the briny aroma from cerulean waves just ahead became your aromatherapy—easing your nerves. Allowing you to bury every insipid thought you’d birthed as a cause of your delusions. 
Your stupid mind and its delusions. 
Your hands landed on the black metal railing, closing your eyes and you began softly inhaling through your nose and then out your mouth. You did that over and over until you imagined yourself alone, somewhere peaceful where Taehyung was a long way from invading your thoughts in the best and worst way possible. 
“I know being here for so long has made us both homesick but I didn’t think you’d be the one most affected by all of this,” his voice sounded dangerously close. God, all you wanted was a moment alone—a moment to yourself. . To halt all your thoughts. All of them. 
“Yeah, I guess I’ve been pretty homesick,” but you weren’t homesick at all. 
“Don’t worry, tomorrow we’ll set foot back home and you’ll be back on your bed relaxing,” you hadn’t looked at him just yet but you could tell he was smiling. 
“Yeah, I suppose that’s all I’ve wanted.” 
“I knew it,” his hand landed on yours on top of the railing, his thumb rubbed circles on your wrist, “I know you, you know. You’re like the only person on earth who can’t seem to enjoy a vacation.” 
He was wrong—you have enjoyed this vacation; his company. It’s only solidified everything you’ve ever felt for him and that was the problem. But how could you say that without actually saying that? 
You chuckled, “I have enjoyed this vacation. It’s been quite reflective. . Eye opening.” 
“Hopefully, the fun kind of eye opening,” he began, “you need to learn to have fun. Let loose.” 
“Your party ways have definitely been contagious,” you looked into his eyes, the way you never have before and for a minute you became lost in their darkness—but surprisingly, you were at ease, “I’ve definitely learned all the ropes to having fun.” 
“After years of trying I’m glad you’ve finally learned something from your best friend. I’m proud,” Taehyung walked towards one of the lounge chairs and sat. 
“Yeah, I guess I’ve learned everything from you these past couple days,” you mumbled. 
“See? You could’ve just skipped college just as I did.” 
“That,” you sat on the chair beside his, “my parents would’ve killed me for.” 
He scoffed, “that’s another thing I gotta teach you now that we’re twenty-one. Bravery is crucial. Learn to speak your mind unapologetically.” 
Easier said than fucking done when your mind, heart and body scream out for him. His attention, his touch and his love. 
“Bravery.” 
“Exactly,” he encouraged, “bravery is a passage so securing everything you want in life. Hold on to that; embrace it. Thread towards everything head on.” 
“Well, in that case I hated college. I really really did. And I don’t even fucking like science I don’t know why I majored in Biology. I miss high school and the days we used to chill on the rooftop of the abandoned bowling alley after school when we had nothing better to do.” 
He laughed, likely reminiscing on the good time, “I miss that too and nobody said we had to stop. We’re adults but our customs shouldn’t have to die, right?” 
“Right.” 
“So, we have a date on top of the abandoned bowling alley as soon as we get back.” 
“A date,” you mumbled, the word causing your skin to prickle up with goosebumps. 
“A date. That’s right.” 
Surely, Taehyung didn’t know the effect. . The implication that the word had on you and your emotions. He couldn’t know about the way your hands began to sweat and the way your heart beat erratically as he kept referring to your late afternoon escapes in that exact way. A date. 
“A date with you,” you began, your tongue did all the work while your mind ceased all control, “you don’t even know what those words do to me.” 
His voice was low, “what does it do to you?” 
Your eyes steered in his direction and Taehyung was still sitting right beside you, but closer. His eyebrows were furrowed together inquisitively, his intent gaze was set on your figure disregarding all of his surroundings entirely—as if he didn’t want to overlook a single detail about you ever again. 
You shook your head feeling like maybe you’d said a little too much already, “just. . Forget it.” 
“Impossible,” he said, “bravery, remember? Penny for your thoughts.” 
“Trust me, Tae. You don’t wanna know.”
“I do.” 
You exhaled softly, “please don’t make me say it.” 
“Say it,” his voice grew deeper and still it felt as softest as velvet would against your skin. 
You closed your eyes trying to unscramble the words in your mind, to unravel your mangled feelings and decipher exactly how much of yourself you wanted to strip bare in front of him. 
“I—“ it was so hard to let it out. To just say it. 
“You?” 
“Taehyung,” you breathed, “I just have these feelings I just can’t seem to ever shake off.” 
“Are they good feelings or bad feelings?” he asked. 
“I’m not too sure,” you shrugged looking off into the clear sky dusted off in orange tones as the sun began migrating down towards the horizon, “—but they’re definitely confusing feelings if I had to say for sure.” 
“Confusing?” 
“Confusing,” well not so much confusing but rather—hard to decipher, impossible to act on, forbidden, off limits, what else? 
It’s you.  
“Come on,” he scoffed, “I’m your best friend. Surely, you can tell me what’s gotten into your head.” 
But that’s the problem. . You’re my best friend and you’ll only ever be my best friend. It’s both the twist between a blessing and a curse. 
It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 
You’ve gotten into my head. 
It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 
It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. 
The voice kept on and on no matter how hard you worked to block it out. It was a reminder that he navigated your thoughts and made you giddy in love, one you didn’t need or want. It’s you. It’s you. It’s you, “it’s you.” 
“What?” He asked. Did you say something? You hadn’t said anything. You hadn’t. 
“What?” you repeated. 
“You said it’s me. .” His stare was blank; hard to read but his eyes were golden under the rays of the departing sun. 
You stared back at him without saying a single word. 
“You said it was me,” he stuttered, “You you said. . What do you mean, it’s me?” 
In that moment you stood before a crossroad unbeknownst to the righteous path to take. Jungling the implications of your two options and how they would affect your relationship with Taehyung from that day. Of course, on one side you had the lie, your very own cloak of invisibility. The same one you’d been hiding behind for years and the same one you’d continue to hide behind—down that road your feelings would be stomped on and you’d watch Taehyung behind a soundproof glass always dwelling on what ifs and what could’ve beens. 
On the other side, there was the truth, the road where you would be stripping yourself bare with every step forward you took. Taehyung would finally be aware of your deepest secret—the one where he occupied your thoughts from the earliest hours of the morning to the latest hours of the night. He would know that your mind often lingered off into vivid daydreams where your imagination ran wild creating scenarios where he was finally yours; he would know the way your balms grew balmy and your heartbeat every time he came near. There would be no more hiding, but here you ran the risk of rejection and the destruction of your friendship. 
So you stood in front of the two avenues unsure of which direction to head towards in order to begin your journey. But Taehyung waited for an answer while you made a safe haven at your pit stop cocooned by fear and indecisiveness. 
The late afternoon breeze rustled the palm tree fronds, swaying them back and forth lightly. You and Taehyung were twenty stories up so that swishing sound was the only thing filling the silence between the two of you. Still, you swallowed your words hoping that he would somehow forget that you said anything. 
“Hey!” he rested his warm hand on your thigh calling out for your attention and finally you looked at him. There was no longer a blank gaze lingering in his eyes, now, he seemed worried, “did I do something?” 
Oh, this is spiraling out of control so fast. All because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut. 
Say something. . ANYTHING! 
“No—“ you cleared your throat, “no it’s not that at all, trust me.” 
“Then, what is it?” 
“It’s not important.” 
He shook his head, “whatever it is, it seems to be bothering you a lot so it is important.” 
There was no getting out of this. Not anymore. 
“I guess I just don’t know how to say it,” you jumped over a million hurdles in your mind trying to decipher the best way to just say it. Finally, you took a deep breath allowing your lips to move at their own leisure, “I like you.” 
You were so dizzy and enveloped within your own scrambled thoughts. Even though you tried to keep your eyes off of him you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eyes.  And Taehyung just sat there with wide eyes and his mouth slightly parted. 
“You like me?” he asked, pausing in-between each word, “like you like me or you like like me?” 
You closed your eyes, “I like like you.” 
“Like more than just best friends?” 
Did you really have to spell it out? Admitting your feelings out loud had you in a state of intense bashfulness, “yes, Taehyung. I like you as more than just a best friend. I have for some time now but it’s okay if you don’t think of me that way. I didn’t even really want to tell you because I was always too scared to ruin our friendship.” 
“Come over here,” Taehyung patted the spot right beside him and you moved to sit next to him. He stared deep into your eyes before continuing, “nothing can ever come in between us or our friendship, okay?” 
“Okay. .” You felt like a massive weight had been lifted off your chest allowing you to inhale and exhale once again. 
“Beside,” Taehyung caressed your cheek softly using the pads of his tender fingers. Quickly, you began feeling at ease as a result of his touch. Then, his fingers migrated lower tracing the outline of your round cheeks until they reached your chin and slowly he began guiding your face towards his so much so that his lips sat just inches away from yours, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way.” 
“You can’t just say things like that,” you placed your hands over his as they still held you close. 
“I’m not just saying it,” he argued. 
“You are,” you shook your head, “you’re just saying it to spare my feelings but I’ll be okay, Tarhyung. I’m a big girl. I can take a little rejection.” 
“We’ve been friends long enough for you to know that I wouldn’t just say something like that.” 
That was true, “but why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Same as you, I suppose,” he shrugged as his eyes remained intently on yours, “I feared that you wouldn’t feel the same and I didn’t want that to drive you away.” 
It’s astonishing how the only thing standing between the two of you and your happiness—and love was yourselves. Doubt and the fear of rejection steered your lives in opposite directions although the gravitational forces stringing your hearts together worked diligently to drive the two of you towards each other despite your cowardice. 
“I wouldn’t leave you.” 
Taehyung flashed his signature boxy smile, so warm and comforting you felt like he wrapped around you in a warm hug. 
“I wouldn’t leave you either,” his eyes focused on your mouth tracing every line and crevice before he met your eyes once again. 
The lingering doubt gnawed at your already splintered confidence so despite your treasurous thoughts screamed that he wanted to kiss you in that very moment, your body remained frozen in place—incapable of emitting an appropriate response, too nervous to react in any way and way too scared to make the wrong move. 
“Can—” he looked at your lips once again, “can I confess something else?” 
“What?” he leaned closer, your nose brushed against his and you couldn’t help closing your eyes. You were feeling too much at once. 
“I really want to kiss you right now.” 
“So kiss me,” you whispered. 
Taehyung laid back on the chair before pulling you onto his lap as your legs straddled his lap. His hands traveled mindlessly along your body until they finally found their destination on your neck—his method of saying you were simply too far because immediately he began pushing you towards him. Your heart was erratic, your hands were sweating and there were about a million scenarios playing in your head depicting every single way you could probably fuck this up. 
But all of that flew right out of your head as soon as your lips met his. Kissing you so passionately you felt grounded, as if he was your home and this is exactly where you were meant to be; where you belonged. 
Noone had kissed you like that before and you liked how his kisses were the words on endless pages of his love confession while his tongue sealed the envelope before sending you off into daydreams depicting scenes such as this one and so much more. 
Taehyung pulled away; heaving; attempting to catch his breath, “I think—I think we should move inside. It’s getting late.” 
Before you knew it your back crashed against the ocean of bed sheets and Taehyung followed right behind picking up where he left off. While his kisses worked to leave you breathless, his hand raked down the fabric of your top before stopping at the waistband of your sweat shorts. 
“Can I?” 
You nodded frantically anticipating all of the lustrous desires that had sparked up in your mind in the latest hours of the night, “yes.” 
Taehyung moved past the waistband and lower down where only the thin layer of your panties stood between his fingers and your cunt but he did not touch you—not yet, you shuddered in anticipation, wondering how he’d render his concupiscent touch. You grew stupefied and your thoughts came to a halt as his teeth tucked at your lower lip, sweeping into your mouth. Everything he did worked to satiate the hunger growing within you, the very one crying out for him to devour you entirely once and for all. 
He pulled away from your lips you felt his hands move under the fabric of your shorts, moving your panties to the side lining up two fingers at your entrance, you gasped once before Taehyung slated his mouth over yours swallowing every whimper and every moan to escape your lips as he pumped into you slowly. 
It was a vicious repetition that already had you soaked, you uttered low whimpers but it seems he was only fueled by your sensitivity moving quicker and quicker by the second. 
He parted away from your lips, whispering in your ear, “you're so wet and warm baby. Fuck, you feel so good, so tight around my fingers. So fucking good.”  
“Ah, fuck. Oh, Taehyung please, please don’t stop. Okay? Don’t stop,” you whimpered as you moved to meet his quicken movements fucking yourself on his fingers so sweetly. 
“I won’t stop. I promise you I won’t,” his voice was hoarse as he continued, the lewd promises he whispered sent glacial shivers down your spine and you felt the way your legs began shaving. 
“Taehyung,” you moaned. 
“Say my name like that again,” he groaned. 
You snaked your hand around your neck twisting the blonde locs draped on the back of his neck before whispering his name once again he smirked going on and on. There was a flame igniting in the pit of your stomach and there was nothing more potent; nothing you could devote your attention to. The only thing you crave was to put that fire out. So you moved quicker against him until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you reached that high and finally the fire ceased. 
Taehyung left a peck on your cheek before aiding you in removing all of the pesky fabrics standing between him and the vulnerability of your nude body, then, he took off his own leaving only his briefs on. He kneeled in front of your stretched out legs and his finger burned streaks on your skin as they caressed your inner thigh, continuing to devote his attention everywhere but where you actually needed him most. 
“Please. .” you begged. 
“Please?”
“Please,” you said sternly. 
“What do you want?” he questioned with a smug look painted on his features, the little bitch was teasing you. 
“You know what I want.” 
“I want to hear you say it,” you gasped as he grazed your enterance coating his digits in the combination of your juices and cum before shoving them in his mouth, licking them clean, “you taste so good, you know.” 
“Eat me out Taehyung, please,” you cried out. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” 
He sunk deeper in his place until his face was no longer in your line of vision, beads of sweat rolled down your temples and you ached with fervidity. His breath fanned against your core and at that moment you knew he was near but it wasn’t until he wrapped his hands around your thighs pulling you closer to his face that you truly felt exposed. Taehyung brushed his lips over your slit leaving a trail of gentle kisses behind. 
Using his tongue he separated his lips before gravitating towards your clit. He enveloped the sensitive bud between his lips quickly beginning his attack in the form of ravenous sucks and licks.  
You gasped clutching onto the sheets to release the tension building within you. Everything you wanted to say out loud died in the back of your throat but you didn’t care about the words you couldn’t say. Your mind was too focused on the way your legs shuddered and your pelvis lifted into the air. 
“I’m—“ you cried out, “I’m so so close.” 
His fingers found themselves pushing past your entrance once again, pumping into you at a quickened pace. It was almost too much but you focused on the overstimulation of his tongue and touch. That inferno you felt once before burned brightly, this time you couldn’t map out a way to extinguish in its entirety. It would always burn and Kim Taehyung would always be the cause of it. 
Whoever said playing with fire was a bad thing was a fucking liar because these flames warmed you up so good like an addiction you just would not want to ever shake off. 
You reached down, raking your fingers through his blonde strands pushing him closer to you, doing so until trembled uncontrollably, spilling over on his fingers. 
Taehyung emerged with swollen lips, his disheveled hair and his spit mixed with your juices on his chin. His fucked-out look was one that would live in your mind like an art work hung in a gallery. 
“Unbeknownst to you, I’ve been yours for a while now,” he stopped to catch his breath, “but after tonight I want you to know that I am yours.” 
Your eyes remained shut but you grinned nevertheless, “I believe that’s the post sex bliss talking.” 
“I’m not the type to just say anything because of the moment at hand. I mean everything I say.” 
“Okay,” you smiled, “can you say you’ll fuck me then or do I have to wish for it when I spot a shooting star for it to come true.” 
He chuckled, it was low and thunderous so soothing and calming. It was always peaceful and eased your nerves even now as you laid completely naked. 
“I’m sorry, were you planning to fuck someone on a vacation?” you asked ogling, as he fetched a golden packet from his discarded pant pocket, removed his briefs and slipped the condom around his cock. 
“Only you,” he said, pressing the tip against your entrance far enough to have your mouth agape as a result but never enough to satisfy your craving to have him fucking you against the mattress, “I promise.” 
“Taehyung, if you don’t fuck me right now I might actually loose my mind.” 
He didn’t say anything else, you just felt him sliding in slowly giving you the time to adjust before he began moving in and out of you gradually. The air circulating the gray walls around the two of you became humid, hot enough to coat your body in a thin layer of sweat. You didn’t care though, you were enraptured in the feeling of him inside of you, in the echoing sounds of his skin slapping against your skin and his guttural grunts every time he drove into you. 
Reality was you’d imagined this moment many many times in your head before but nothing, none of your dreams or your wildest fantasies could’ve prepared you for how much better this felt in person.  
There were goosebumps running rampant on your arms, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your moans and whimpers only increased in volume but you couldn’t help it. 
“Harder—harder, please,” your nails drug into his back leaving bright red scratches behind. 
“Harder,” he repeated that very word over and over, quickly moving to execute your request. 
You felt all of the air being punched out of you everytime he buried himself deep in you, “Oh, yes, like that.” 
Taehyung hugged your waist listing your lower half up from the mattress and continued slamming into you. 
“I’m,”  he thrust into you.  
“—yours,”again.  
“—to take,” again.
“Use me,” and again. 
“Use me.” 
You clenched around him continuously, your vision blurred and you felt waves of the scorching heat in the pit of your stomach burning brighter and hotter than they ever had that night until finally you let go. 
Taehyung collapsed beside you, the two of you heaved in attempts to catch your breath. 
“Fuck,” was all you said. 
“Fuck, is right,” he laughed, “I’ll get a warm bath started for us.” 
He placed a kiss on your forehead then one on your lips before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Taehyung is your best friend but he is also the man who’s taken over your heart in a way that exceeds your platonic bond. 
There were no labels attached to what the two of you were but you didn’t need them for now because you knew that Taehyung would always be there for you no matter what the situation looked like. 
“Hey, are you ready to clean up?” he kneeled down next to the bed looking into your eyes.
“Of course.” 
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a/n: out of season au cause im a slow writter but i hope everyone had a good summer and is looking forward to the fall 🍂🍁🍃
what will you miss most about summer?
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