#aye thanks for sticking around~ :)

[tobeholyistobeempty]

G’mornin, bonnie. | john soap mactavish

You wake up from a one night stand — ready to gather your shit and run just like you always do after a night of bad decisions — but turns out, Johnny has other plans for you.

cw: 18+ mdni. smut. slight dark themes ie. stalking. john price has a kid and is a great wingman apparently. reader afab. teacher!reader. morning after a hookup. domestically menacing johnny with a permanent shit-eating grin. first time attempting to write his accent so i’m sorry in advance. piv. voyuerism!kink. rip to johnny’s neighbours. creampie.

for the absolutely lovely @spurbleu. thank you for offering me this challenge. i hope i did him justice 🤍 i’m so sorry i’m so late ilysm

You wake to something warm.

It washes over you slowly — spring streams pouring into fragmented consciousness, urging you from the depths of slumber with a gentle lull. Coaxing. Warm like summer sun internalized, flowing through your hair — hazing the room in a golden film as your eyes peel open with rapid blinks, and confusion hastily nullifies it.

You shift, becoming aware of what your body is subconsciously telling you. Warmth. All of it adding to the growing discombobulation. The lingering heat between your thighs. The cocooning comfort of sheets that aren’t yours. The odd familiarity of a room that’s too bare to be recognized. The grace of a bed that’s glaringly empty save for dark sheets wrapped around bare, aching legs.

It takes you a minute, but your memory eventually resurfaces — gasping for air at the smell of coffee and the hum of movement from the other room.

Johnny.

Hard to forget that name after you’d spent the night screaming it. Your body knows before your mind does, muscles humming with the memory of hands that held too tight, a mouth that took its time. You inhale. Coffee again. A lure. A leash. It tugs at something instinctual, something inside you domesticated — until you glance at the clock sitting on an empty nightstand and realize it’s almost 9 am.

Shit. You should have been long, long gone by now.

You exhale, cursing your constant stupidity as you drag yourself out of his bed and up to your feet — fogged vision scanning the floor, brows creasing as you realize you’re wearing nothing save for a long white shirt that surely isn’t yours — and your clothes are no where to be found.

Oh. Right.

Your clothes barely made it past the front fucking door.

Another exhale, forced from shaking lungs. You’ll have to go out there. You’ll have to face him, grab your clothes and change. It’ll be awkward, but it’s not like you haven’t been here before. Not like you haven’t been through this with past vices. It’ll be fine. It’ll be easy — you all but convince yourself. And within seconds, you’re halfway down the hall, practising your fake smile and empty thank you’s when the smell grows stronger.

Your stomach grumbles with the force of it as you step into the kitchen and —

Fuck.

Johnny stands at the stove, shirtless in grey sweats, bathed golden by the early morning light. It clings to his skin, drapes over the planes of his back, the ridges of his spine. His hair is a mess, wrecked and mussed — a souvenir from your hands as he fiddles with something in a pan, humming hypnotic under his breath.

And it’s then that you forget what you were supposed to be doing.

Because this? This is wrong. This is not how this goes. You don’t wake up like this, wrapped in the scent of coffee and breakfast, staring at a man who should’ve already been nothing more than a memory.

Your breath sticks in your throat, limbs made of cement as he turns. Catches you standing there.

And grins. “G’mornin’, bonnie.”

You blink, the exertion of it painful. You should leave.

Instead, you exhale. “You’re making breakfast.”

His lips twitch, amusement and archaism synchronized swimming in his ocean eyes. “Aye. Tha’s usually what it’s called.”

He is so at ease here, it’s unnerving. You can feel it, see it in the way he moves. Unfettered. Relaxed. It makes a knot of tension bindle between your shoulder blades — because this is familiar to him, but not to you.

Two plates. Two cups of coffee. You should leave.

“You—you don’t have to do that.”

Johnny just shrugs, turning that canvas of a back to you — red parallel lines catching under karat coated rays. Your own painting on display — you find yourself admiring it as if it wasn’t created by last nights drunken fingers.

“Ye thought I’d jus’ kick ye out?” He flips eggs in the pan. Your chest aches. “Ye were tryen t’sneak off first then?”

Your lips press into a thin line — indignant as you force your eyes to the floor. “Admittedly, that was the plan, yes.”

He tsks, shaking his head like that’s the most disappointing sentence he’s heard all week before he glances over his shoulder at you again — all beaming blue eyes and grins.

“Shame. Poor things nae used te bein taken care of, is she?”

That indignation spreads, grows a vine around your throat. Twists your tongue. “Well, I mean—I don’t—“

Johnny cuts you off with a hum. Or, more like you cut yourself off, because you have absolutely nothing to say to that and what you did offer seems to be more than enough of an answer for him.

“Ye think too much, bonnie.” Something sizzles in the pan — you watch the veins in his arms shift against whiskey skin as he lifts it off the element. “All tha’ time plotting yer escape, ye coulda’ been enjoying breakfast.”

Christ. You really should leave. You should slip back into the skin of someone who doesn’t stick around for things like this. But it’s like your feet have grown roots, burrowed beneath his floorboards. You blame it on the smell of coffee, the warmth of the kitchen. The way his fucking muscles flex as he moves.

It’s all nurture to something long rotted in your soul.

“It’s not like I was expecting breakfast.” You mutter, tugging his shirt down your thighs before crossing your arms across your chest. “Wasn’t expecting any of this, really.”

Could you be anymore fucking awkward about this?

“Tha’ right?”

You can’t see it, but you can hear the grin on his mouth. It should scare you that you are beginning to predict him — expecting something smart to come out of him next.

“Didnae expect the shag either, but ye still took it real well.”

Perhaps it should scare you more that you were right.

You clear your throat, but the heat is already rushing down your spine. Settling somewhere inconvenient. He just gives you a quick glance, lopsided leisure tilting his lips as he turns with a plate and coffee cup in hand, gesturing with his head toward the table.

“Come o’nae, I won’t bite ye.”

————————-

Turns out, Johnny MacTavish is real easy to talk to. Too easy.

Mostly because he doesn’t stop talking, but nonetheless, it whiplashes you. You came here expecting the usual routine — get in, get out, leave nothing behind but the scent of mingled sweat on strange sheets — but the one-night stand has somehow stretched into morning and now you’re sitting at his kitchen table, fork scraping against porcelain, coffee steaming — actually talking like this isn’t just borrowed time.

He tells you about Scotland. About real pubs, the kind where the floors stick to your boots and old men sing ballads in voices ruined by smoke. He talks with his hands. His shoulders. His fucking eyes — restless and full of movement, always wandering. Blue. Though that hardly cuts it — the colour of a storm sky split by lightening. Cool in the shallows and rich in the depths.

They hold contradiction well. Like they’ve seen enough of the world to be cynical but still manage to burn bright enough to keep that warmth kindling under your skin.

Perplexing.

That’s the word that sits on the tip of your tongue as you stare at him. Wondering if he was truly just another notch on your bedpost, would you still be here, trying to make sense of what you missed in the dark last night.

“So,” he says, ripping a piece of butter soaked toast in half. “Ye always bolt after?”

You pause mid-bite. Then your mouth moves dumbly. “After what?”

Johnny smirks. “After ye ride a bloke like yer life depends on it, scream his name loud enough tae wake the dead, and wake up wearen’ his shirt.”

“Jesus—“ you choke, grateful you at least swallowed your food prior to him starting that sentence, otherwise he’d be halfway to giving you the heimlich right about now. “You don’t do subtle, do you?”

“Aye.” That grin grows over the rim of his mug. “Subtlety’s a waste on a woman like ye.”

Before you can’t think better of it, you find yourself grinning back.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes flick away to catch the sunlight.

“Ye dinnae’ strike me as the half-measures type, bonnie.” Then they wander back to yours. “Means ye like a man tha’ says what he’s really thinken, tha’s all.”

That makes you pause, and you try to tell yourself you’re not blushing. It’s the warm sun at your back, or the coffee sitting thick in your belly. It’s certainly not those eyes — still on you, unashamedly, taking in whatever it is they see behind your own.

“You think you know me?” You try to make it sound as casual as possible. You know you don’t accomplish it.

“Aye.” A lazy nod. “I do.”

And that — that makes you squirm. Makes you drop your eyes to his hands as they sit against the sides of his coffee mug. Capable fingers calloused with strength, a few bruised knuckles. Your gaze drifts up to the veins on his forearm, and you stop yourself before you stare too long.

“Why?”

You hadn’t even realized you’d asked it out loud until his lips quirk like he was waiting for it.

“Wha happened te all yer self-preservation?”

You blink. Your tongue is heavy, but you make yourself use it.

“...self-preservation?”

He leans forward, arms on the table between you.

“All it took te keep ye here was a little forward hospitality. Ye got no blasted clue who I even am — yet yer still here, asken questions ye shouldnae be asken in a voice tha doesnae belong te someone looken te run.”

And you don’t know what to say to that, because admittedly it knocks everything off kilter. Leaves you wrong-footed. Lands a little too close to being right. There is safety in one-night stands and running before the sun breaks. There is safety in not learning anything about the man you share a bed with for a night if you don’t have to. You’ve been good at it. Practiced it like a bad habit.

You didn’t realize, until now, just how easy it’d been for Johnny to make you break it.

“I said I know ye,” he whispers. “Because I do m’research on who I share m’bed with.”

He leans back in his chair after that — and your eyes follow. Milliseconds stretch to seconds which stretch thin to what feels like minutes before you find some sort of wherewithal to move. You don’t want to know what he means by that, and you don’t want to look too deep to find the answers — the incrimination dunked just beneath the ocean tides in his irises.

“You are so bloody full of it.” You surprise yourself by not stuttering, staying steady as you stand. “I—I have to go.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Aye, I am.”

His eyes find yours again before you head for your clothes still scattered all over his living room floor. You swear to all kinds of unholy things that you feel the heat against the back of your skull as the flashes of last night flood your memory — his tongue on your cunt, your nails in his skin, his name on your lips—

“Ye’ll be back though, aye?”

You pause somewhere by the window, turning to note the morning light painting his hair a hundred different shades of gold. There’s an easy smile on his mouth, no trace of last night’s drunken humour in his expression.

“What?”

His smile stretches to something devilish, and you are so not used to the feeling it elicits. Not used to being charmed. Being disarmed.

“Y’like a man who says what he’s thinken.” He wets his lips. You can’t look away. “And what I’m thinken, bonnie, is tha this willnae be just a one time thing.”

He rises, then, and you get the unsettling, stomach-punching feeling that he knows. That he can see the words spinning up and dying on your tongue, can see the flush rising up your neck knowing it’s something he put there.

“Ye want te leave, go right ahead.” Your pulse thrums as he draws closer. “Just know tha when ye come back. I’ll be starven.”

Asinine, you tell yourself, but your heart is in your throat — that suffocating something licking up your spine and curling beneath your sternum. Your eyes dart to the clock on the wall. Time. Work. Reality. The real world standing just beyond the exit of whatever the hell this currently is.

You decide, then, that you actually do want answers.

“You—you researched me,” you find your voice, though it doesn’t come easily. Drags itself up from the pit of your throat, scraped raw by the claws of confusion . “I don’t—”

Glass touches your back through the thin veil of his t-shirt as you take a step back, snow white fabric still lazily draping the curves you let this man get well acquainted with last night. A stranger who wasn’t all that estranged, you realize.

“Relax, lass,” his voice drops to a soothing pitch. Something suiting for the cornered animal you currently feel like you are, as he steps closer again. “I didnae run a background check on yer whole bloodline, if tha’s what’s got ye hackles up.”

You clear your throat, sun beating at your back through the glass. Suffocating.

“Then tell me. What you meant.”

Tongue over teeth, he nods, palms going up. Playful as a puppy, if the puppy was rabid.

“I jus’ know who ye are. What ye do.” A pause, glimpsing down at the way your chest is rapid firing, before flicking back up. “Know someone whose kid ye teach. Speaks real highly of ye, actually.”

There’s no amount of blinks that can make those words make sense, yet you hope 10 might do it.

A parent of one of your students is talking about you. To Johnny MacTavish.

“I’m s-sorry?” You’re stuttering, now. Goddamnit. “Who? What’d they say?”

He exhales, props an arm on the glass beside your head and crosses his ankles as his body brackets yours — watching the silence drag. Watching you ruminate in it.

“S’nothin bad, bonnie. Quite the opposite.”

You’re staring at his mouth. “Johnny, who was it?”

He makes you wait, the bastard. And then—

“Price.”

The name punches the air from your lungs. “What?”

Johnny’s smile turns smug. “Captain’s kid. Ye teach ’em, aye?”

It hits you somewhere between the grin and the way he leans in. Captain.

“Price,” you repeat softly, the name tilting sideways in your mouth. “John Price?”

He stills. Just slightly.

“Aye, Captain John Price.”

You blink once, twice, brain whirring. He’s referring to him like an official superior. Routine. That means he’s either a cop. Or detective. Or FBI. or Military—

“You work with him,” you murmur.

“Work, kill, drink. Depends on the day,” he says, that thick Glaswegian accent wrapping around the truth like it’s not heavy. Military. “Didnae put it together, did ye? All tha time I was sittin’ across from ye. Ye never asked what I did. No idea I had credentials.”

You huff, stunned. Unsure what to say. Less unsure what to feel. “Christ.”

“Oh, now yer sayin’ His name,” that smile is back. Rankles you in a way you never knew until him. “Where was tha earlier when I had ye on yer knees—“

“Johnny,” you warn. “Keep talking or I’m leaving.”

He laughs, easy, leaning in until all the air feels like it’s his.

“Didnae have te dig deep, bonnie. Prefer te do all the dirty work m’self.” Eyes narrow, at that. He just keeps going. “Capn’s kid. Jamie. Talks bout ye like yer some kinda’ fairytale. Real sweet. Price said he’s never seen the kid so bright-eyed about school.”

The name finds your ears with a soft ache chained to it. Jamie Price — broad-shouldered for a ten-year-old, barely spoke unless coaxed, drew galaxies on the backs of worksheets when he thought no one was watching.

Gentle kid. Brilliant, too.

Johnny shrugs, that easy, terrible shrug like it’s all nothing. “Price asked me if I knew ye. Ranted on about how ye treat ‘em. Said he overheard ye talken to someone about the bar ye frequent. Said ye had a backbone, a kind heart, and the sort of stare tha makes grown men straighten up like schoolboys.” Blue eyes glimpse your lips, again. “But ye ain’t ever been treated right.”

Heat crawls up your neck. You’re still pressed against the glass, still unsure if you’re more flattered or frightened.

“He said that?”

The amusement falls off his face, something stern replacing it, and nods.

“There’s some things tha just stay with a man.” He shifts closer. Doesn’t touch you, though. Doesn’t need to. “He said it. Like he was tellen me not te fuck it up.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out as a weak exhale, like your body doesn’t trust relief just yet. He swallows, continues.

“I just cannae figure it out. Pretty thing like yerself. Real good with kids.” He breathes the last part thick, like it curls in his throat and tugs. Like it does things to him. “Bit of a wild ride, clearly. And somehow — yer alone. Settlen’ for quick fucks instead.”

You don’t answer immediately. You can’t. You just peer up at him, breathing made heavy by everything you’ve learned and everything he is.

“Choice, Johnny.” You whisper. “It’s by choice.”

“Aye. Choice.” He whispers back, other hand finding the glass beside your head, knees knocking as he leans in impossibly closer. “But all those men who let ye walk. Who didnae fight for ye, they’re fools.” He’s close enough your lips almost brush. No grin on them, now. Just gravity. “I’m no fool, love.”

It’s all hitting you at once, in the same place you’re pressed — against the cool pane of the balcony door. It was all set up. Johnny pulled the entire night from the ether thanks to a man you hardly know. Captain John Price. You’d only ever thought of him as John — the friendly, albeit quiet man who showed up to parent-teacher meetings with stories in his eyes. Said little. Watched everything. A ghost in your mind until now — until Johnny pieced it all together with soldiers determination and an easy tongue.

Sat beside you at the bar. Didn’t come on too strong. Didn’t press or sound too rehearsed. Made it real easy to believe it was all a coincidence.

How foolish you had been to not see through the performance.

But now, the shows over — there’s no final act. No audience to entertain. The masks have come off, and you hear it. The sincerity in the way he says I’m no fool. Like it’s not just about last night but about tomorrow and the one after that. Like he’s telling you he’ll fight for you and he’ll mean it. That this isn’t just a night. That he doesn’t want it to be.

And you’re still reeling from it when your hands find the heat of his chest. Curling around his neck without ceremony, pulling him in the final inch.

He’s kissing you.

Not like he earned it, but like he means it — and you’re kissing him back, hard, moaning as his teeth find your bottom lip and tug. He pulls back before you’re ready for him to, and your head slumps back against the glass. Breathing. Trying to will the ground back into place beneath you as he traces your jawline with his thumb.

“What else,” you croak out as he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder and exhales. “Do you know about me?”

He hums, pressing closer, hips pinning your ass to the glass as you drag your digits down his chest, tracing scars like braille.

“Enough,” he answers, fervent fingers dragging the fabric of his shirt up your hips, torso. “Enough te drive me insane.”

You feel the moment your heart stutters — mouth parted with nothing to fill it but a gasp as your bare ass is exposed against his glass balcony door — giving neighbours and street dwellers a goddamn good view should they be glimpsing up—

“Wait. J-johnny.” He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even blink as you catch his wrists, pleading for reason. “Your neighbours—“

“Donnae care.” He mutters, tugging the fabric up over your head. “Let the bloody bastards watch.”

You don’t want to know what sound slips from your throat at that, but you’re sure it’s some ugly, gorgeous thing. Torn somewhere between lust and indignity as he moves — one hand bracing against the glass beside your head while the other wrestles with the waistband of his sweats, shifting until you can feel him — hot, heavy, throbbing — pressing low against your stomach.

And maybe there’s a moment where you think you should tell him you can’t do this. Something because of the neighbours or the noise or the glass sticking to your back. But his hand finds your face, eyes flooding you like atlantic as he leans in to kiss you before lifting you up, legs curling around him— teasing with false thrusts, dragging his tip slow and sinful over your clit just to swallow the noises pulled from your throat. He doesn’t need words to silence your protest but manages all the same as you’re rocking against his shaft in tandem — one hand holding his lips to yours and the other gripping his back until you’re slick and half out of your goddamn mind with need.

And if you thought he’d be gentle — well.

He doesn’t ease you down. Doesn’t waste time. Just slides into you in one heavy thrust until you’re stretched to your edges and his name is caught on a sound you don’t recognize.

“Johnny! Ohf-fuck!”

He curses, teeth grazing your jaw, hips driving forward like he’s punishing you. Or maybe himself. Probably a little of both. Regardless, there’s nothing easy or soft about this — the kind of frenzied effort that takes you apart and leaves you hoping he’ll stitch you back together. Makes you realize you needed this — the pressure, the friction, the drive deeper into your belly with every excruciating inch as you choke on the sounds he’s drawing out.

You can’t control the pleasure that pours out of you, dripping like honey over his lips as you grip the back of his neck—

“Oh—f-fu—ohgod—“ you can’t find the right words, though you’re not even trying to anymore. It’s better than a dream. Better than last night when it was all alcohol and adrenaline. This is raw. Real. And you realize, through the fog, just how easy it was to get lost in him. To let yourself. Even with nothing but the sound of his voice and the skin on his back to hold onto. “J-johnny—fuckingdeep—yes—“

He sets a frantic pace, teeth sinking into his lip like he can taste the curses you’re whispering against it.

“S’good. S’tight, mmfuck.”

Feral. Best word to describe this. Gnawing you from the inside out, leaving your thighs quivering as you fight to hold onto him, back slicking against the glass as he buries himself so deep you can barely choke out an inhale.

“M’gonna—ohmygod—“

You’re going to cum. You can feel it in the way your belly knots and your thighs tense. His smile gets lost in the crook of your neck as he grunts — not daring to slow down or give you a moment to breathe. Instead, he just slips a hand around your throat, pinning your head back to glass that’s just as humid as you.

And when his eyes finally find yours, they’re a million shades darker than they were five minutes ago. All the blue eclipsed by dark, midnight hunger as he devours like you were served to him on a silver platter.

In some metaphorical way, you know you were.

“G’on. Make a mess of me, bonnie. Know ye need it.”

You want to look away. You can’t. Not when he squeezes your throat like you’re his. Not when he rocks deep and hard and your blood is singing for more. Your pulse thumps wildly and you wonder if he’s trying to slow it with his fingers as he tightens his hold.

And so you moan, because it’s all you can do — while the words you whimper as he thrusts hard enough to make you keen don’t sound like you. They sound like someone he owns.

“Ohfuck, Johnny—yesfuckyesyes—“

It hits you like the shatter of stained glass.

Your mouth falls open, soundless at first, a broken gasp caught somewhere between your throat and tongue. Your whole body tightens, back arching off the glass as you tremble, drowning in it, orgasm dragging you under like a rip current — teeth clenched, thighs shaking, fingernails digging so hard into Johnny’s shoulders you’ll leave marks. You want to leave marks.

“Christ, lass. Tha’s it. Tha’s fucken it, baby.”

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let you breathe. He fucks you through it, jaw clenched, hips snapping forward like he’s chasing your high to the end of the world — like your pleasure is the only map he’s following. You’re crying out now, helpless and shaking and soaked, clenching around him so tight it borders on painful — more for him, you think — as he grunts, one hand bruised into your hip and the other braced against the glass, eyes locked to yours as you fall apart for him.

“Tha’s it, bonnie—” his voice is wrecked, sweat dripping from his brow. “Jesus Christ, s’tight—fucken’ look at ye.”

And you do.

Your head falls forward, forehead against his, eyes burning with the kind of emotion you don’t dare name as you watch him drive in and out, slick coating everything flesh. You sob a noise against his mouth, some choked half-curse, and he swallows it with a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and possession as his thrusts grow sloppy — rougher, more desperate, chasing his own breaking point.

“Can I—fuck—can I cum inside ye pretty cunt?” He pants, voice hoarse against your jaw. “Tell me no. Christ, I’ll pull out, jus’ say it—���

You don’t say it.

You just grab his face, kiss him hard, and whisper; “don’t you dare.”

That’s all it takes.

He groans — a guttural, broken sound — and slams into you once, twice more before he’s spilling inside you. Hips twitching, mouth open against your neck. And for a moment, the world goes still. Nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing. The steam on the glass. The thrum of blood in your ears.

You close your eyes. Let yourself float. You don’t know what this is — but you know it wasn’t just a fuck. Not with the way he’s still holding you. Not with the way you’re already aching to let him do it all over again.

It’s a few moments before he pulls out. Another few before you find your head.

“Christ,” you breathe, rubbing your face as he fixes himself back to modesty. “I can’t believe I—”

You cut yourself off, because what’s the point. Johnny doesn’t move, just watches you with that maddening calm — sweat still cooling along his temple, chest rising and falling slow like he’s got nowhere better to be than right here. Looking down at you the same way he did when he sat beside you at the bar.

Like he’s well acquainted with the taste of your name.

“I told myself,” you try again, “that this was a one-night thing. Just a fuck. Then breakfast. Then I leave.”

His gaze never wavers. “So why didn’ye?”

You open your mouth. Close it. Because you don’t have an answer that doesn’t make you sound like a fool. Until you give up caring.

“Maybe part of me still thinks you’re bluffing.”

“Bluffen,” he echos, leaning closer — eyes soft like snow. “Ye think I sat down beside ye at tha bar for just a fuck? You think I made ye breakfast just to be polite? Nah. I did it cause’ I already knew I wasnae’ about te let this be just once.”

You exhale — stepping back like you’re reclaiming ground, but the glass is at your back and his voice is in your blood now.

“Johnny,” you breathe. “This is mad.”

“Aye,” he agrees, extinguishing the space. “But I’m no’ lettin’ you bolt just ‘cause it scares ye.”

You blink at him. “And if I try?”

Lips at your temple, he grins.

“Go ahead. But ye best put all tha practice te good use, bonnie. Cause’ I’ll find ye.” His fingers trail up your side, electricity coursing. “And each time I’ll fuck ye harder than the last. Leave ye walkin’ funny and thinken’ of me every hour after.”

Those fingers pause, and you jolt, a shockwave behind the ribs as his words drive through you. It’s maddening and it’s sick — how fast reason betrays you. How fast you clench around nothing, aching like he’s made good on that promise. Like part of you wants to be hunted, dragged back by your hair and wrecked until all your rules blur into white noise.

It’s nonsensical. But all men before him were dull — a realization that makes your mouth dry. And all you can think about is the way his voice dragged over that sentence.

The way each time implies he’s already counted them.

“Quite the promise.” You reply.

He smiles all teeth and truce — and you know you’re already too far gone. He knows it too. Judging by the way he hums, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone.

And adds. “This wasnae’ chance. Wasnae’ luck. I came for ye because I meant te. And m’stayen’ for tha same reason.”

[whorelaud]

WRONG NUMBER, LOSER – rafe cameron (2)

a rafe cameron mini smau series

summary Rafe gets tangled in a complex love-hate relationship when shooting his shot at a party, merely for him to end up with the wrong number instead, leading to a new beginning, or so he assumed, unaware of who really was behind the screen; his next door neighbor, whom he'd define his sworn enemy.  contains neighbor!reader, enemies (?) to lovers, wrong number trope, mostly texts, sexual jokes, shameless flirting, loser!rafe, jealousy, lots of tension, attempt at humor

NAVIGATION. main masterlist; 01 ¡ 02 ¡ 03

Loser: Aye

Loser: Wsg 

Loser: Hello 

Loser: Uhmmmm 🫤 

Loser: ???

Loser: Did you delete my number alr? 

Loser: Am I tripping? Are my messages not going through 

You: bro 

Loser: There she is

Loser: Hey sugar ;) 

Loser: … Did you disappear again 

Loser: It hasn't even been a min :( 

You: shut

You: up

You: GUCK YOI LIKE ACTUAJLY 

Loser: Tf

Loser: What did I do? 

Loser: Biting my fingernails why are you edging me 

Loser: Mommy I’m scared

You: . 

Loser: Oh hey

Loser: You’re back 

You: sniffles 

You: you just got me scolded dumbass i hate you i hate you I hate You so much 

Loser: Huh 😧

Loser: Who scolded you baby

Loser: I’ll kick their asses 

You: boiii 🤨🤨

You: Ugh this is so annoying why’d you text me when it was dead silent 

Loser: I am so confused rn

Loser: What did I do exactly? 

You: Text me 

You: i forgot to turn dnd on WAHHH 😭😭😭 

You: i was tryna hit now that professor hates me :(

Loser: Oh 

Loser: How old is he 

You: 54 

Loser: Oh 

Loser: And how old are you?

You: 20 😊

Loser: Oh 

Loser: That’s nice sweetie

You: stop Ohing me 

You: it's no biggie hes only 34 yrs older

Loser: Girl he could be your dad

You: good thing he isnt

Loser: Bro...

Loser: This generation dawg

You: why are you judging me

You: god forbid a girl has hobbies

You: How old are you big fella 

Loser: Why do you wanna know? 

Loser: You interested in me or sum? ;) 

You: Die nvm 

Loser: No I’m sorry

Loser: I’m 24

You: 👴

Loser: Bro 

Loser: Wym by that 

You: Nothing old Man. 

You: No wonder you Type like That…

Loser: What the hell 

Loser: What’s wrong with the way I type 

You: Nothing honey you’re Doing Great keep it up 😘 

Loser: This is humiliating 

Loser: Why am I getting cyber bullied 

You: nah you'll be fine

You: taking it like a champ 

Loser: Oh… hehhehebeh 😅

You: What. 

You: Why are you Laughing old man

Loser: No reason 

You: Right…  

Loser: Wyd 

You: well i technically just got kicked out so now im walking around capmus waiting for my next class 

Loser: Seems fun 

You: im having soooo much fun thanks to someone 😊

Loser: I’m sorry 

Loser: I didn't mean to get you scolded sugar

Loser: Promise I won't disturb you during lesson hours from now on 

You: from now on??? YOU PLAN TO STICK ALONG??? 

Loser: I mean… You haven't blocked me yet

Loser: Taking it as a sign 

You: Dawg you're hella clingy… 

You: do you not have other ppl on your phone 

You: leave me ALONE 😭😭😭🙏 

Loser: Nah I like you

You: erm

Loser: Wait

Loser: Not like that

Loser: WAIT. 

Loser: You know what I mean right? 

Loser: I just think you're funny and cool hahahah 

You: mhm… 

Loser: Not that there’s anything wrong with liking you of course 

Loser: I mean you must be gorgeous 

You: How do you know I’m not an ugly discord kitten catfishing you for money

Loser: … Are you? 

You: wow okay 🙄

Loser: Just messing I know you’re pretty sugar 

You: Quit calling me that 

Loser: Why I think it’s cute

Loser: It suits you 

You: shut up 

Loser: Did that get you? 

You: get me as in… 

Loser: Idk 

Loser: You seem p flustered 

You: WHAT 

You: i literally just said shut up  

Loser: Yeah yeah they all say that 

You: ‘they’ referring to the two poor ladies you probably forced into a conversation? 

Loser: Hey 

Loser: A lot of women find me attractive 

You: never said you weren't

Loser: Woah

Loser: Are you flirting with me :D 

You: what No

You: We’re talking about conversations you’re the one who brought up being attractive 

Loser: That somehow hurt my feelings

Loser: Do you not think I’m attractive? 

Loser: Should I just die? 

You: k i never said that… 

You: i don't know what you look like its as simple as that 

Loser: Oh 

Loser: Should I doll myself up and send you a selfie 

You: No 

Loser: What why :( 

You: what if you’re ugly 

Loser: I am not ugly. 

You: everyone is a beautiful tootsie in their mother's eyes

Loser: My mom’s dead 

You: Oh… 

You: sorry 

Loser: It’s fine 

Loser: Wyd? 

You: walking

Loser: Still? Are you not tired?

You: im exhausted. ive been pacing around capmus for like fifteen minutes ugh 

Loser: When does your next class start? 

You: 3:20 

Loser: What the hell

Loser: That’s an hour from now

Loser: Go home and rest in the meantime 

You: that would be even more exhausting 

Loser: Is it a long ride? 

You: no 

You: i have a bitchy neighbor im not risking it 💔

Loser: Again with your fussy neighbor…

Loser: What is that son of a bitch doing to annoy you that much

You: exist 

Loser: Oh 

Loser: Sue him for existing?? 😅

You: i wish

You: he actually gets on my nerves 

You: always so cocky and for what this is why you don't get no bitches cunt

Loser: Hell yeah fuck that hoe why’s he being a bitch 😂 

Author – laughing like they’re not talking ab him… 

You: IM SAYINGGG 

You: You get me thank you 

Loser: I actually do 🫤

Loser: I too have a lousy neighbor it’s so difficult dealing with her

You: see now this is something we can bond over 

You: you found your purpose loser 

Loser: Loser? Hey >:( 

You: im starving 

You: my stomach just grumbled in front of fine shyt bury me alive 

Loser: It’s fate. You’re not meant to be. 

You: die are you praying on my downfall 

Loser: 🤷🏼‍♂️ 

Loser: Seriously though do grab a bite 

You: ugh i might 

Loser: I’ll leave you to it then ;) 

Loser: Eat and have fun in class sugar

You: dont call me that

Loser: Sorry baby

You: that too

Loser: Mb sweetheart 

You: bye. 

Loser: Js accept it next time 

You: I am Too hungry to be arguing with you right now. Bye. 

Loser: Okay. Bye. 

You hearted loser’s message! 

a/n hi :p this was fun def took a different approach but i went w the flow so yayyyy!! hope you enjoyed let me know what you think hehe!! ill try working on ch 3 faster these are acc super fun || also sorry for how much of a loser rafe is... i dont talk to men inhate them so im just making him sound like a facebook mom hope you guys dont mind hes just a cute tootsie...

taglist is currently open, feel free to let me know wether you want to be added/removed. however, in order to stay tagged, you must interact with the posts!

TAGLIST @rafeycameronsgf @nemesyaaa @totalswag @vanessa-rafesgirl @enchantingexile @my-name-is-baby @wintercrows @cl4uus @ethanthequeefqueen @emmasclaws @countryclubwhore @drewstarkeyzwhore @davinashifts333 @i-love-gvf @ayy1234567 @kissesandmartinis @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @mariamadison6-blog @harryzcherry @vdotcom

[lieslab]

No wisdom, just teeth

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Summary: A tooth infection leads to a dentist trip and some chaos.

Genre: 9th member AU

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Lab rats, do we like 9th member AUs? I'm testing this out and working on another 9th member AU request. Consider this a brief test run.

_ _ _

The pain radiating throughout your jaw, when your eyes opened to the sound of your alarm clock, blinded you. You gently cupped the side of your aching jaw, moaned in pain, and blindly reached over to quiet your alarm clock. 

Three days ago, it was a minor toothache. All the way in the back left corner of your mouth, you assumed it was a pesky wisdom tooth. Why on earth humans grew more teeth as they aged? You didn’t know. All you knew was that it was hell on earth.

The aching gums, the discomfort of chewing, the tiny morsels of growth that left you feeling exhausted and defeated. It became more and more clear why babies cried and gnawed on everything when growing in their own teeth. 

You took the proper steps yesterday, when nothing seemed to work. The pain killers didn’t help the pain and neither did the gel you applied to numb the pain. Briefly, you were freed from the ache with the gel, but the pain came back much worse. The next opening for your dentist was next week. You thought you could manage, but clearly your tooth had other ideas. 

Out in the kitchen, plastic coffee cups clattered. Chan pressed buttons on the fancy espresso machine and tapped his fingers awaiting a third espresso shot. A triple shot americano wasn’t needed at seven in the morning, but something had to cut through his groggy haze. A cup full of ice sat waiting. 

In the distance, Jeongin struggled to open his eyes in the bathroom. His hair stuck out in multiple directions. Their morning routine didn’t change, but he still struggled to pull himself from sleep, too. A sigh escaped his lips, he forced his eyes open, and reached for the hairbrush. 

Mid-brush, he paused when he heard you calling for Chan. It wasn’t unusual for the ninth member to want Chan. You found comfort in Chan and often seeked him out for guidance. Being the leader of the group, you often admired him and trusted his advice. 

“Chan?” You grumbled again as you patted into the kitchen. 

“I’m here, what’s up?” His silhouette appeared around the corner. “Do you want a morning coff- oh?” He frowned. Your eyes were still barely open. An unsteady gait in your walk. With cheeks flushed of color and something obviously wrong, he walked to meet you. “What’s wrong?” 

“I think my tooth is infected. I feel like shit and my tooth has been hurting.” 

“Uh-oh.” 

“What’s going on?” Jeongin appeared with a toothbrush full of toothpaste. “Did you lose something again?” 

“Even worse, they might have a tooth infection.” 

Jeongin’s face contorted into an instant grimace. “That’s not good.” 

“Did you call your dentist?” 

“Booked out until next week.” 

“Are we sure it’s an infected tooth and not the flu or something?” Jeongin asked. 

Chan’s eyes wandered back to you and you shook your head. “I have a pounding headache and was fine last night. My tooth hurts worse and my head feels like it’s on fire. Even just accidentally touching my face hurts my jaw.” 

His face quickly mirrored Jeongin’s. “There’s no way you can work like this. Why don’t you settle back into bed and I’ll make some calls? I’ll call my dentist and if I can’t find someone willing to work something out, I’ll call another dentist.” 

“I can call people, I just-” 

“Your focus right now should be on resting. Take some painkillers, drink some water, and I’ve got this, okay? Let me do this for you. You’re in pain and I don’t want you to stress yourself out more.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Innie, are you still-” 

“Going to the company building? Yeah, unless you want me to stick around here and help you.” 

“I’ve got it. Tell the guys that I’ll be there a little later. I’m going to get this worked out first.” 

“Aye, aye, captain.” He saluted, patted you on the shoulder, and disappeared back in the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

“Try not to worry too much, we’ll figure it out.” Chan flashed you a dimpled reassuring smile, but it didn’t feel very reassuring to your aching jaw. 

~ ~ ~ 

The bright blue eyes of the dentist peeking over your face didn’t make you feel better. After a quick phone call to his dentist, Chan’s dentist agreed to meet you immediately. If a tooth infection created the root of the problem, the infection could turn much more dire than expected. 

So you laid with your mouth cranked open. Silver dental tools poked and prodded the back of your mouth. Tender and sore gums bled at the touch. Your nose scrunched from the pain. Tools scraped. The dentist mumbled to the assistant and you hated all of it. 

Getting x-rays sucked. Biting down on two pieces of plastic nearly made you vomit in your unwell state. Even the basic exam made tears prick in your eyes. Chan’s dentist was nice. She didn’t mean to make you feel worse, but your feelings were in shambles. 

All you could focus on was your aching jaw. Across the pale blue room, Chan’s knee bounced. He could have stayed in the waiting room, but he wanted to be here with you to make sure you were okay. You were grateful, despite the awkwardness, you didn’t want to be alone. 

He texted the group chat with frequent updates to keep the rest of the members informed, but all he could really do was wait for the dentist’s diagnosis. Nervous for you, his knee never stopped bouncing. He winced at every sound of a tool clanging against your teeth, he knew how it felt from his own time in the dental chair for cleanings. 

After a few more moments, the dentist pulled back. She pulled down her blue surgical mask and sighed. “I have good news and I have bad news. The bad news, it’s an infected wisdom tooth. The good news? It can be fixed with extraction and some antibiotics to make sure the infection is cleared up.” 

Chan’s head perked up at the sound of her voice. He clicked off his phone and looked at you. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling, only half-paying attention. When he called your name, you glanced over. 

“Did you hear that?” 

“Please take it out before it kills me.” 

Unable to hide her amusement, the dentist chuckled softly. “It won’t be a problem.” Her eyes went back to Chan. “It might take a while and since it’s a wisdom tooth, you’ll probably be better to wait in our waiting room.” 

“If I give you my number, can you call me when they’re finished?” He glanced at the dentist and she nodded. He stood up and approached you. “I don’t want to leave you, but the guys are having some issues at the recording booth.” 

“Go ahead and help them. I’ll be here when they finish and after they call. If we’re lucky, I’ll be in a lot less pain.” 

He chuckled, grabbed your hand, and gently squeezed it. “Behave for the dentist, will you?” 

“As long as she frees me of that stupid tooth, we’ll get along just fine.” 

~ ~ ~ 

The lights blinded you. The world blurred and you groaned loudly. Your head jerked back in the wheelchair you were sitting in. People around you turned into silhouettes rather than individuals with clarified features. 

“Hey, easy there, tiger.” A hand gently patted the top of your head. Minho’s voice reassured you, but you couldn’t see him. “Keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times or the pig-bunny will gnaw them off.” 

“Hey!” Changbin cried out, clearly offended. “That’s not true! I wouldn’t gnaw off your arms.” 

“Guys, stop it. They just came around from having all four wisdom teeth plucked out. They’re probably confused and disoriented, you’ll scare them.” 

Felix’s freckled face appeared right in front of yours. “Hi, there!” He grinned and reached out to lightly poke the tip of your nose. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 

All you could muster was another groan. Your cheeks felt like they were bursting at the seams. Packed with bloody gauze, you were a numbed zombie. Your entire body felt off. More than anything, you were confused about the ongoing scenario around you. 

Back in the lobby of the dental office, Chan talked to the dentist and receptionist with slight worry. He didn’t realize after he left, you agreed with the dentist to have all four wisdom teeth pulled, rather than the single infected tooth. It’d save you a second procedure, but the recovery would last a lot longer. 

He flipped through the papers in his hands, trying to understand everything the dentist reminded him. Beside him, Jeongin glanced back outside to you. As both your roommates, they’d get the task of managing the majority of your recovery process. Neither was looking forward to it, nor were they looking forward to informing your manager that you’d have to sit out of the usual schedule for a while. 

Han popped out of an open car door when Minho rolled up with your anesthetic-laced body. Upon seeing the roundness of your cheeks, he burst into a fit of giggles. “Hey! You look just like me! You’ve got my cheeks!” 

Your head slightly shook, which caused him to laugh. He climbed out of the car. Hyunjin glanced up from the driver’s side and looked behind his seat. Bloody gauze could be seen in your slightly opened mouth. His eyes narrowed. “Ew.” 

“Ew?” You mumbled.

“That’s what I said. Ew.”

Your bottom lip trembled and Felix’s face fell. “No, no, no. Sweetheart, don’t cry, he’s just teasing you. He doesn’t think that you’re ew, he’s talking about the bloody gauze in your mouth. He’s just being silly.” 

“He’s ‘urting my ‘eelings!” 

“Well, you look ugly and swollen, so…” Seungmin shrugged and took a sip of his smoothie. Before the guys left the company building to pick you up, they stopped to get drinks. 

Changbin spun around, trying not to laugh. Felix swatted his shoulder. Han forced himself to bite his lip. Behind you, Minho couldn’t stop the grin from appearing. 

By the time Chan and Jeongin came out of the building, a steady stream of tears slipped down your cheeks. The guys tried hard to comfort you, but you weren’t having any of it. Too strung out on the remnants of being under anesthesia, you didn’t realize Seungmin’s words held no truth. 

“What’s going on? Why are they crying?” 

“Because Seungmin was a dickhead,” Minho pointed out. 

“Yeah, he called them ugly and swollen.” 

Jeongin’s hand patted your leg reassuringly. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it. Seungmin’s face looks ugly and swollen all the time.” 

“It does not!” His instant objection brought a pause to your tears. 

Minho realized it instantly and grinned. “Hey, they stopped crying! Keep going! Seungmin is ugly and untalented!” 

“Seungmin smells like beef,” Han continued. A look of Seungmin’s genuine concern shot his way. Han ignored it and went on. “Seungminnie is bad at most video games.” 

“‘Outh ‘urts.” 

“What are they saying?” Changbin asked. 

“Their mouth hurts. I know it hurts, but we’re going to get you home and feel better. When you feel much better, I’ll make you an entire batch of brownies, okay?” 

You wiped away your tears instantly. “Tanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

After deciding who was sitting where, a few of the guys sat with you. Others followed Jeongin into his car, so they could be taken home. Hyunjin drove, Chan sat in the passenger’s seat, Minho, and Felix sat on either side of you.

You stayed quiet and let your eyes shut. For the first few minutes, all was fine, until it wasn’t. For whatever reason, you jerked straight upright with wide eyes. Both Felix and Minho glanced over concerned. 

“I’m being kitnapped!” 

“Huh?” 

Your hand went towards your seatbelt. Minho quickly grabbed your hand, trying to prevent you from getting loose. “Woah, there. You can’t unbuckle when the car is moving.” 

“Channie!” You cried out loudly. 

Chan flipped his sun visor down and glanced at you. “What’s wrong? What is it?” 

“He’s kitnapping me!” 

“Who is?” 

Your arm flung toward Hyunjin. Hyunjin glanced in the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes. “If I was kidnapping you, you’d probably have a bag over your head. Why would I kidnap you and put you beside Felix? Being kidnapped with Felix probably wouldn’t even feel like being kidnapped.” 

“Don’t worry, mate. When ‘re outta this, I’m gonna make yer brohwnies.” Hyunjin uttered in a dramatic Australian accent. 

“I do NAUGHT sound like that!” 

“You just did.” 

Felix huffed and tucked his hand around yours. “You’re not being kidnapped. We’re taking you back home, so you can get some rest. You’re safe with us.” 

“Channie!” You uttered again. 

“Hyunjin, can you stop the car, so I can change spots with Minho?” 

“Oh, yeah! Lemme up there, so I can air fry the ferret and stretch my legs.” 

“CHANNIE!” 

“Minho, you’re making them upset. It’s okay, I’m coming back there, don’t worry. Felix isn’t going to let Minho air fry anyone, okay?” 

Hyunjin slowly brought the car to a stop on the side of the road. He turned on his hazard lights, allowing Minho and Chan to swap spots. The moment Chan slipped beside you, you grabbed his hand and refused to let go. Your forehead rested upon his shoulder. The numbness and confusion you felt melted together. Your eyes drooped and you let yourself drift to sleep. 

~ ~ ~ 

In Chan and Jeongin’s dorm, Jeongin already arrived back home with Changbin, Seungmin, and Han. Chan told Jeongin to make sure they had a proper spot for you on the couch and he didn’t know exactly what that meant, so he tried his best. 

After dumping multiple of your blankets and pillows on the couch, he stood back and scratched the back of his neck. “How on earth do you make a cozy spot for someone on the couch? It’s the couch, it’s not meant to sleep on after such an intense procedure.” 

“Oh, this one is.” Han grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around his shoulders. “This leather couch is so sleek and nice. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but you both have good taste. This couch is my favorite piece of furniture.” 

“I don’t think they’re going to be real happy knowing you’re stealing their blanket,” Seungmin commented. 

“And I don’t think they’ll be happy seeing your swollen and ugly face,” Changbin shot out in Han’s defense. 

“You wanna go, pig-bunny?” 

“Yeah, come here!” Changbin shot forward and grabbed Seungmin’s throat. 

A grin instantly filled Seungmin’s face. “I didn’t know you were into being an alpha man.” 

“Yah, no! Ew! Stop!” Changbin pulled away and shook his hand. “No more alpha and omega stuff. I don’t wanna hear about it, you pervert.” 

“You grew oddly offended about that.” 

“Shut up!” 

“Shh! They’re back, I can see them coming to the door through the window.” Han shoved himself to his feet, shedding your blanket, and letting it lay on the couch. 

Jeongin hurried to the door and pulled it open. In Chan’s arms, your sleeping body lay bridal style. He carried you inside with ease. “Did you get the couch ready?” 

“I mean, I didn’t know exactly what you wanted, but their stuff is there.” 

“Good enough.” 

The rest of the guys followed behind Chan. He gently placed you on the couch against your pillow, making sure you weren’t lying on either side of your jaw. He quickly grabbed blankets to cover you up and let out a sigh of relief. “That takes care of that for now.” 

Out in the kitchen, Minho flicked through the stack of paperwork from the dental office. “This looks like a huge headache, thank god I’m not playing a part in this.” 

Felix appeared over his shoulder and frowned. “Oh, poor thing. This is certainly going to be a long recovery period. They’ll probably be pretty upset when they wake up.” 

“And in pain. Does anyone want to come with me to go pick up their antibiotics from the pharmacy?” Jeongin pulled out his car keys. 

“Please get me the hell out of here,” Seungmin walked towards him instantly. 

“I guess I’ll go.” 

“Yeah, same.” 

Changbin and Han followed him, but it was Han that spoke up first. “Do you think we should stop at the store and grab some soft snacks, so they have something to eat and drink when they wake up?” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

The guys all conversed and slipped out the door, leaving only a handful behind. Hyunjin observed your peaceful demeanor and sighed. “I think this is the first time they haven’t been stressed in a while.” 

“Anesthesia is just a brief coma,” Felix mumbled beneath his breath. 

Chan came out to look through the papers that were in Minho’s hand. Despite Minho’s previous words, he didn’t mean them. Of course, he’d help with your recovery, he always would. 

~ ~ ~ 

You woke up to the sound of quiet whispers full of affection. 

“They look so cute when they’re relaxed and asleep like this.” 

“I can’t wait until they wake up, I miss them.” 

“I like them when they’re dead to the world. I haven’t heard this kind of silence in so long.” 

“Kim Seungmin, you fucking jackass.” 

“Bite me.” 

“I might.” 

When your eyes opened, you made out the faint illumination of Chan’s yellowed face. The way the lamp positioned, it cast an unnatural tint to his face. He stepped away and walked closer to you. “Hey there, are you awake?” 

You tried to speak, but the gauze stopped your words from coming out clearly. Your eyes widened and Chan stepped forward. “Whoops, I forgot about that. Hold on, stay still, and let me take this out for you.” 

He leaned forward and peeled away the gauze. When he did, you blinked rapidly, trying to wake up. To your surprise, all the guys were scattered throughout the dorm’s living room. 

“You made it through your wisdom teeth extraction.” 

“You’re a total baby when you’re high on anesthesia and you can’t take a joke.” 

“Seungmin made you cry.” 

You tried to speak, but your voice felt hoarse. Jeongin quickly stood up to retrieve a water bottle for you when your words came out cracked. When he came back, he jerked it open, and handed it to you. After a few sips of refreshing cold water, you thanked him. 

“Honestly, I’m really disappointed you didn’t give us more to work with. I was expecting you to turn into a total brat, but you didn’t. You thought I was kidnapping you and cried at Seungmin’s insult, but that was about it.” 

You glanced up at Hyunjin with furrowed eyebrows. He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t remember?” 

“No. I don’t remember a lot of it. I thought they were taking out one tooth.” 

“Yeah, I think you were half unconscious when you agreed to take out all four.” 

“But I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Felix chimed in. “Now you never have to do that again and that’s pretty cool. Unlike the rest of us…” He frowned thinking about it. 

“Oh, hell no!” Jeongin’s head shook. “They’re not putting dental tools in my mouth.” 

“Yeah, I agree. I’ll continue my regular appointments to keep my mouth cleaned. I’ll be flossing and brushing like usual,” Minho added. “Preventive measures help with tooth infections and cavities.” 

“Thank you, doctor obvious.” 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Chan questioned with concern. 

“My mouth feels so swollen and I’m tired.” 

“No pain?” 

“Not really, I just feel groggy.” 

“I think this has been the best possible outcome for you.” 

“Wrong. I wanted to see you beat up Changbin,” Seungmin pouted. 

“And I wanted to see them put their foot up your ass, so I guess we’re all disappointed,” Changbin glared. 

The sound of your stomach made everyone pause. Your cheeks flushed red and you grabbed your stomach. “Sorry, I guess I’m hungry. I haven’t had food all day.” 

“Oh!” Felix popped up. “You can pick something off the list of foods that the dentist recommended.” 

“Nothing hard, crunchy, or sticky,” Han clarified. 

“I know it’s not exactly healthy, but a milkshake sounds nice.” 

“You’re not allowed to use a straw, but if you want a milkshake, it can be arranged,” Chan leaned over and patted your head. “What kind?” 

“Can we all have milkshakes for dinner? A big giant chocolate milkshake would hit the spot. Topped with a lot of whipped cream and chocolate syrup and-” 

Jeongin cut off Han’s rambling. “Usually, I’d judge you for that, but that sounds so good.” 

“Sounds pretty official to me.” 

“Come on, Innie.” Changbin stood up and grabbed Jeongin’s arm. “The rest of you can text the group chat with what kind of milkshakes you want. We’re going to go find our sugar rush.” 

Chan sighed and leaned back against the couch. “I can’t believe I’m a full grown man and agreeing to get dessert to replace a balanced dinner.” 

“Live a little, you ancient, old fuck.” 

“Seungmin is right!” 

“Felix, you’re not supposed to agree with him.” 

“Well, he’s acting like he has a stick up his ass.” 

“I am not! I just think that having a milkshake is ironic since our member just got out their-” 

“Hey, what’s the best time to go to the dentist?” Han beamed. 

“Han fucking Jisung, if you say tooth-hurty-” 

“Tooth-hurty!” 

“Come here,” Minho stood up with a fist. “I’ll show you a tooth-hurty.” 

“AH!” He rushed to the opposite side of the couch. 

You sucked in a deep breath and sighed. You might have survived getting your wisdom teeth removed, but now you were tasked with surviving your recovery period with the members of your group; quite a difficult feat when you live with a group of wild animals. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

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[mywritersmind]

umm I don't really have an idea in mind (sorry) but id love to see an ex!franco fic!!

THAT PRETTY BLONDE - FC43

summary : In which some drivers are checking out a girl and when Franco goes to meet her, they already have been introduced. In fact, they’ve had years of knowing eachother.

listen up : franco x ex! no warnings! thanks for the request i love the idea of franco and his ex so here’s smt short!

words : 1135

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“What’re you staring at?” I elbow Lando while Oscar, Isack, Kimi, and Carlos are completely locked in, their eyes on something in the distance.

“Mate…” Isack hits my chest, “Hottest girl ever.”

Kimi nods as if he has a chance with anyone over eighteen, “Mamma mia...”

“Right there. In the white.” Lando points to a girl in the crowd, her back is to us and I immediately understand what they’re talking about.

I can’t even see the girl's face but she’s already stunning. She’s in a blue mini skirt and a white top that falls just before her waistband. She's slim, her legs long, definite model quality. Shit, I see one attractive girl and suddenly i’m a model scout?

She flips her hair to her back, long and blonde. “Ay…” I mumble, “I’m going to talk to her.”

“No way!” Lando interjects.

“Come on Colapinto leave some for the rest of us.” Isack rolls his eyes as I grin and push past Oscar who looks more curious than hot for her.

I stick my tongue out at them as I walk backwards, turning around and walking straight up to her. I clock the William’s mechanics already, the familiar faces nodding to me.

“Hey…” My voice trails off almost immediately, the second the girl turns to me, my mouth goes dry.

Her smile drops at the same time the mechanics walk away, “Y/n.” I choke out, staring at my ex-girlfriend in the face. What the actual fuck.

“Franco.” Her voice makes me physically shiver, the same one that used to sweet talk me. I recognize it all too well. She’s not smiling, her expression neutral as she checks me out, “Thought you weren’t driving this season.” She says it as if it was the most casual thing ever.

She pops her hip, raising a brow. God I used to love when she would do that.

I never have issues talking to women, unless it’s her. I don’t know why, just something about her made me so nervous, especially after the breakup. “I’m uh… just here in case.” I scratch the back of my neck, looking past her at the guys who are staring.

“Right.” She smiles softly, moving her arm up so her fingers tug at a curl in my head, “You look good.” I swallow, ultra aware that she hasn’t touched me in over a year.

I can’t breathe. “Thanks. You look… You know you look good Y/n.” She laughs, nodding. She always did. “I like your hair.”

“Really?” She twirls it around her finger, “Kinda miss the brunette.”

“So, you’re here.” I eye her badge and swallow, “With william’s?”

I swear on my life she’s doing this on purpose, “Mhm… I was invited. It’s not too weird… is it?”

“Well considering you broke up with me before I became a william’s driver…” Shut up Franco. Shut up.

She rolls her eyes, “Don’t pull that. You know why we broke up.” Me. Of course it’s me. I nod as she glances back to the guys who pretend to be doing anything but staring at her. “Could you tell your friends that if they want to look at me, they can talk to me first?”

I let out a dry laugh, “Not a chance they’ll be doing either.”

“Hm, still possessive I see.” She tilts her head, smirking.

“You got a boyfriend I should be worrying about?” She shakes her head slowly. Good. “Then yeah, they’re not getting close.”

She smiles in the way that she used to, “Look I gotta go…” I spent this past year thinking about her, wondering if I would ever see her again, yet here she is. At a bloody race with the team I should be on.

“Right. Maybe we can catch dinner sometime?” I don’t know why I say it, it literally just comes out of me.

But thankfully, she doesn’t scream in horror, just grins wider, “If you’re lucky, Colapinto.”

I nod and start walking away, “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.” The second she turns away, I slowly walk back to the guys.

I cannot believe she’s here. “What the hell!?”

“There’s no way you pulled her in that amount of time.” Carlos raises a brow.

“Who is she!?” Kimi asks, “Yo, Colapinto! Details!”

I groan, slamming my head against the wall as they all go quiet. I breathe in, then out, my eyes squeezed shut. “She’s my ex.”

They freak out. Oscar laughs out loud while Carlos just shakes his head. “Excuse you!?” Lando shakes me.

“You’re fucking kidding!” Isack argues.

“I wish.” I say, looking at the group of shocked men, knowing i’m about to have to explain that the one girl I ever truly loved, broke up with me because she thought (she knew) I wasn’t doing enough. “Oh I really fucking wish.”

“Mate… how’d you not recognize her!?” Lando’s laughing now.

“She was brunette…” I groan at the memory of my beautiful brunette girlfriend who used to party around argentina and kiss me against club walls. “and I didn’t expect the fucking loss of my life to be here!”

“Shit. I can’t believe you fumbled her.” Oscar shakes his head, making me frown.

I cross my arms, “She broke my heart, thanks.”

Lando raises a brow, “Oh?”

“She dumped you!” Kimi giggles, “This is the best news I’ve ever heard. You think she’d go for me?”

I punch him in the arm, making the younger boy flinch, “She is way too old for you. And she’s my ex!”

“I don’t see any issues.” He shrugs, making me blink. He fucking wishes.

“Shut your trap, Antonelli.” Lando laughs, “Franco. Is she single?”

“Mate!” I swear, “Not you too!”

He laughs, “For you! There’s no way you’re fucking up this opportunity.”

Carlos nods, “You believe in fate?”

I eye the man in blue, “I believe that she’s in your garage all weekend…” I smile and clap him on the shoulder, “I just have to visit my best mate!”

He laughs, shaking his head. He’s about to say something but goes suddenly quiet when someone walks up. It’s her.

Everyone shuts up.

“Fran.” She calls me by my nickname, thoroughly twisting the knife, “Call me tonight, yeah?”

I think I might faint.

The sharp pain in my side is caused by Isacks elbow, forcing me to nod as they all check her out, “Of course.”

She looks at all of them, laughing a bit before waving, “See you.”

“Bye…” Half the guys say! I slap all of them.

“Oh Fran…” Lando mocks her, batting his lashes, “Please come take me out and-”

“Shut it!” I start walking away.

“Where are you going?” Oscar asks.

“I need to figure out what i’m going to wear!”

[oceantornadoo]

merry xmas! some platonic family fluff with johnny for y’all

ch3 the wrong john | masterlist | next

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

—

When you wake, John is gone.

Predictable, really. Isn’t that what you wanted? A simple fuck, something to hold you over before sticking around this unknown city for however long Johnny tolerated you. John’s dirty talk and possessive demeanor had woken something inside you and now it was gone, lost to hotel sheets and your alcohol-drenched brain. For some odd, unimportant reason, you felt a sense of disappointment that he didn’t stay. You scanned your bedtable for a note or something and came up empty. A feeling of abandonment sank low in your stomach and you tried to tune it out by focusing on the fun you’d had with John. One of your hands slithered down your naked stomach, eyes closing as you tried to recreate a scene from a few hours ago when John woke you up with his tongue. “Open those legs f’ me, that’s a good girl.” You squeezed your eyes shut in an effort to imagine John’s deep baritone. “C’mon, one more. Jus’ f’ me, yeah?” You found yourself nodding along to that phantom voice, fingers circling your sore clit harder and harder, orgasm starting to crest and-

Ding!

Your phone, abandoned in your bag somewhere, was hit with a barrage of texts. You checked the clock and shit, it was already 9:30am. So much for primping before visiting Johnny. With legs like jelly, you slowly walked over and dug through your purse to find your half-dead phone.

Idiot half: We still on for 1000?

Idiot half: Was going to suggest breakfast but training is going over time, fucking rookies. Think the team’s free for lunch if you want.

Idiot half: Let me know when you’re on the way.

Your heart ached with the sincerity Johnny showed over text. He was all jokes in public, but when it was just you two, you could feel your twin’s want for your affection. You two were more similar than you gave credit to. Plugging in your phone, you texted him back a “might be a little late!”, then jumped into the shower and started your day.

45 minutes later, your cab pulled up in front of a stoic-looking military base. “‘Fraid I can’t get ya any closer, miss. This one’s real locked down.” You thanked the driver anyways, paying him then stepping out. Before you could even wonder how to actually get in (should you just walk to the drive up? That seemed undignified), there was a figure with a ridiculous mohawk striding past the front guards, dressed in fully fatigues. 

“M'eudail!” The stupid urge to run towards Johnny bubbled up inside you, a remnant of your shared childhood. Instead, you quickened your walking pace until you met him at a guarded entrance, blinking twice at how it looked more like a prison than a place of work. Johnny disregarded the guards and attacked you with a hug, his familiar scent of pine and musk invading your senses. Tears were forming in your eyes for some unknown reason, surely not connected to a reunion with your twin.

“Missed ye, hen.” You nodded against him where your cheek was tucked into the curve of his neck. He’d certainly gotten beefier since the last time you saw him, his shoulder muscles digging into your arms around his upper half. “Missed you too, Johnny.” You pulled back a little and Johnny noticed the tears before you could wipe them away. His thumbs were callused but gentle, swiping at your skin until it was dry. “Knew I was y’r favorite.” You scoffed, not meeting his eyes. “Shut up, Johnny. It’s allergies.” He tugged you back into his arms, his stupid twin telepathy reading you too well. “Aye, I ken. Y’know I love you too.” Johnny held you until your tears dried, being a complete gentleman and not acknowledging how puffy your eyes had become when you pulled back. 

“Thought I was here to meet your boyfriend, huh? Or is he conveniently ‘off base’?” You used finger quotes to emphasize your rag. Johnny rolled his eyes, tucking you under his arm and marching you into a scary-looking building. It was so utilitarian it made your eyes burn, all slick concrete and bulletproof windows. Not exactly warm and fuzzy.

“Yer jus’ jealous because yer single, hen. I see right through ye.” He marched you both straight past the guards, then produced a visitor pass out of one of his many pockets and put it around your neck. “Pretty necklace, just for ye.” You rolled your eyes, then elbowed him in the side. No matter what, Johnny could always make you act like a moody teenager. 

You bickered back and forth as Johnny showed you around. “An’ here’s the mess.” (“Bet they cook better than you, Johnny.”) “Common room.” (“Do you guys play shooter games or is that too close to home?”) “Finally, ‘eres where we’re goin’. Trainin’ room.”

It was more than a room, it was a building. It seemed at least two basketball gyms wide, filled with training equipment, a track, and tools that seemed more fit to be in a torture chamber. At one corner of the room, there was a massive hunk of a man yelling at scrawny soldiers you figured were recruits. He was built like a tree, legs and arms thick as trunks while his face was covered with a plain black balaclava. He looked like an intruder you’d had nightmares about.

“An’ ‘eres the L.T. Or Ghost if ye think he’s scary lookin’. The boyfriend, but that’s confidential.” Johnny winked as your mouth dropped. This was the “cuddly fucker” your brother was in love with? He seemed more fit to be the Winter Soldier.

Ghost looked up at the sight of you two approaching. He barked something to the recruits and they scattered, sprinting towards the weightlifting equipment like their lives depended on it. With the way Ghost looked, it might be true.

“Alright, love?” Who was he talking to? You glanced around and oh, Johnny was nodding. You couldn’t have even imagined Ghost would call your brother love in a soft-sounding tone. “‘Ere she is, L.T.. My baby sister.” You rolled your eyes unconsciously. He was older by three minutes.

“Nice to, um, meet you. Johnny didn’t mention it was Halloween year-round here.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. The joke just burst out of your mouth, not even checking in with your brain first. All you could do was watch for his reaction in the stunned silence.

“Johnny, ya didn’t say she was funnier tha’ you. Welcome t’ base, bird.” He pulled you in for a one-armed hug that was over before it started, ruffling your hair before pushing you back out. You glanced back at Johnny and he gave you a wink, pride evident in his face. It warmed your belly and spread to your heart, relaxing your shoulders and spine. Everything was fine. In fact, you probably didn’t even need a drink last night. That thought turned to John real fast, and you shut it down before it started something.

Johnny was clearly the talker of the two, ushering you both out of the training room to meet “Gaz and Cap.” It conjured thoughts of an old-time captain, a man with white hair and a big belly. Wait, maybe that was Santa? Your lack of sleep was really impacting your critical thinking skills.

Excitement and nerves were written clear as day on Johnny’s face as you three neared an official-looking door. He stopped outside of it, Simon at his shoulder blocking the name plate you guessed held their captain’s name. They glanced at each other and Simon squeezed his bicep, words of encouragement flowing unspoken between them. For a second, the smallest millisecond, you felt that familiar yearning for an easy bond like theirs. Something private and sacred.

Johnny nodded to no one in particular, then knocked twice on the door. A muffled “come in” followed swiftly, and he opened the door partially. There was a man sitting in a chair near the door with a baseball hat blocking most of his face. “Bonnie, ‘eres Gaz.” You waved shyly, intimidated by the blinding half-smile he sent your way when he tilted his face up. Your mouth opened, about to ask if he was a Lieutenant too, when Johnny opened the door all the way and pushed you towards the man sitting behind the desk.

“An’ ‘eres the Captain, Cap’n Price.” Your mouth, clearly having disconnected from the rest of your brain, stayed open at the sight before you. At the sight you’d seen 12 hours before in a dark bar, 6 hours before tangled in your sheets, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear. He seemed to remember that fact as well, blazing eyes locking onto yours like there was no one else in the room.

“But you can call me John, sweetheart.”

-

if y’all want updates a bit earlier, subscribe to my ao3 for notifs on this story :)

taglist: @lveegsoi @galactict3a @nova-willow-541 @sirbonesly @starlightkitten19

[your-averagewriter]

"Only for you, darlin'"

Summary: Cooper heads into town in search for some RadAway for you when he stumbles upon a cute gift (Cooper Howard x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.0K

Warnings: needles, kissing (slightly ig)

-

-

Stalking through the desert, he heads towards the town in search of some RadAway for you, the radiation reaching too high of a level for Cooper to be comfortable with, especially in his presence.

His boots echo through the makeshift tunnel made of old tubing before sunlight peaks out of the other end, exposing the market on the other side, countless signs decorating the stalls. He pulls his hat down slightly in order to cover his irradiated face more, less because some people find it unsettling and more so people don’t recognise he’s a ghoul.

He walks along the stalls, searching for any RadAway and some other supplies that need topping up. 

Signs stick out to him yet none offer what he needs until he reaches a store with various niche medical supplies as well as bandages and the like. Walking up to the store, he looks over the small bottles and pills decorating the side but doesn't see anything Stimpaks or RadAway.

“Ay,” He gets the attention of the store owner. “You got any RadAway?” He asks, looking up at the man covered in shredded clothes. He shakes his head before looking down at what looks like an old graphic novel. “You sure? I got plenty of caps.”

“How many?” He asks, accent showing he’s not from around here.

“Plenty.” He reinterrates, shaking his bag causing the rattling of the caps and the man puts the graphic novel down, heading further into the shop before returning with a pouch of liquid with a strip of duct tape on, scraggly writing on it.

“I keep it in the back, people nick this stuff the most. 50 caps.” 

Cooper scoffs. “50?” He asks, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice. “30.”

“45.” He counters. “And I’ll throw in a Stimpak.”

“Fine” Cooper counters and the seller sighs before pushing it towards him whilst Copper pushes the caps on the side. “And you got the good deal there, you should feel lucky I’m willing to pay for this.” He snatches it from the side, rolling his eyes before moving on to finding other items but glad he’s got what he came for.

Strolling through the town, he looks in the store windows, something catching his eye in a junk store. He pushes open the door, a bell ringing making him wonder if it’s a trap but why would there be a trap when someone is trying to sell junk?

“Hey darlin’, feel free to take a look around.” An old woman says, crazy hair covering most of her face making him feel uneasy that he can barely see her eyes. He nods before heading towards the window display, boots hitting the wooden planks underfoot noisily as they creak.

A toy rabbit sits in the window, no more than a foot tall with fluffy ears and a cute nose. He swipes at it, examining it and dusting it off before looking for some sort of price label.

“How much for this?” He turns to face the woman who pushes her glasses up, scrunching her nose as she squints at the item.

“8 caps, but for you 4. Who’s this for?” He pulls out another five caps and drops them on the table before carefully putting the bunny in his bag, making sure it’s tucked in and the clasp is shut properly. He pulls on the latch, checking its security. Secure. 

“My girl, she loves bunnies. Thanks.” He grumbles, walking out the store and off to the base again.

He walks back through the desert, kicking the sand as he goes, mumbling to himself and even whistling slightly. He lifts his hand to keep the sun out of his face as the base appears in his field of vision. Base is a strong word for a couple of broken down buildings just by the trees that are more secure than you would think. It provides cover and hides flames when it gets cold.

He can’t help the edges of his lips quirking up at the sight of the base and his girl.

Under an hour later, he returns to the base, stepping through the ‘door’. “Sweetheart?” He yells through the base.

“Cooper, that you?” You ask, sweet voice ringing through the walls.

“‘Course it’s me.” He grins to himself, following your voice.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me come with you.” You say before being interrupted by a cough. After moments of coughing, Cooper rubs your back and once you start speaking, he reaches into his bag.

“Did you get a Stim-” You start but he passes it to you with a brief kiss to the cheek. “Thanks.” You smile before looking down at the Stimpak wrapped in a cloth. Taking it out, your eyes are immediately on the needle, you take a pause and deep breath before injecting it into your thigh.

Letting out a breath, you drop the used Stimpak and look back to Cooper who wears a smirk, holding back a laugh.

“What are you laughing about?” You cock an eyebrow.

“You ain’t scared of no mutants, no raiders, nothing but needles.” He chuckles, his accent prominent. “It’s cute.” He says before remembering the bunny toy in his bag. “I got you something in town.” He says, rootling through his bag.

“More RadAway?” You ask, knowing his paranoia about you getting too much radiation when being around him. 

“Yeah, but I got you something else too.” He pulls the bunny out of his bag. “Now I know it ain’t much, but I saw it and thought you’d like it…” He presents the bunny, quickly brushing off some of the sand from the journey.

“Aww.” You can help but coo at the cute bunny, taking it off of him and holding it gently, picking up one of the ears and letting it flop back down. “You didn’t spend too much on it, did you?” You look back over to him.

“Y’know it’s rude to ask about someone’s finances, sweetheart.” He teases. “Besides, the lady gave it to me for cheap, probably knew I was getting it for my girl.”

“Probably knew you were a softie.” You tease.

“Only for you, darlin’.” He picks up your hand and leans down, kissing it playfully.

-

AN: I can't believe I haven't posted anything for over three months… sorry I've had exams and extra and it's just been stressful so hopefully I can get a bit more on track.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

how do you think Riddle, Lilia and Azul would deal with having a wife who is dedicated, sweet, loving and a bit scatterbrained sometimes… but they’re also scary protective, mama bear instincts. Someone hurt her man and she’s gonna end your whole career. . (If they ever have kid together, some fae or human or mer person tries kidnapping their kid, they sneer at the wife and the boys, and wife comes flying in with murderous energy, and scares the shit out of the kidnappers (scared the husbands too). and wife goes over to their kid and hugs them while the kidnappers flee, kid hugs mom, while crying “mama” happily)?

A/n: SRRY FOR THE LATE REPLY I WAS TLAKING WITH SOME OF MY FRIENDS AND COMMENTING ON SOME POST !!! BUT ANYWAYS IVE BEEN DAYDREAMING OF THIS FOR DAYS ON END AND IM SO HAPPY SOMEONE MENTIONED IT !!! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING AGAIN @nesting-dreams !!!

💋🪽Wifey material, but can still kick ass💋🪽

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Lilia Vanrouge [💋🎀], Azul Ashengrotto

Warning ⚠️: slight cussy, Reader could be fem but I'm using "you", reader kicks ass, I'm bad at describing fights helpp, reader taking a slipper and chucks it at a mer (Azul's part), reader does a suplex on somebody (Riddle's part), Reader went full-out on brawling (Lilia's part), OOC bc future, you have a child (scary), and ofc, my Grammer is so indescribably amazing.

Summary: You are a dedicated, sweet, a little bit of a scatterbrained wife. You've sworn to be with him, always and forever, taking responsibility for bearing a child as well, you were such a sweetheart, despite being a little forgetful, he still loves you very much. Oh, and your child as well, "Hehe, silly momma!" [Insert name].

But... what happens if your man/kid gets hurt/kidnapped? Oh, suddenly, those perpetrators are in a boxing ring with you.

Riddle Rosehearts

You and Riddle were a happy married couple, sure you get into quarrels but you've managed to work it out somehow, despite for your scatterbrained-self, you were dedicated and sweet. Slightly protective of him, he didn't really know about that part, really. Especially when you stare into a woman's soul for flirting with him, he didn't take notice at all. So, when he turns around, your there, all sweet and flowery with that cute tendency to forget something or another. He's blushy around you, just like the day he caught feelings for you. And, your child [insert name] really loves you! You're the best momma! So what happens if...

Your man gets hit:

•Riddle was surprised by the sudden punch this guy made. He stood up, wobbling from the sheer impact, pointed his wand (or whatever he could use as a Harry Potter stick)and was ready to say the magic words (Miska, muska! Mickey Mouse!), "Off with your!-" another sudden move. It was you.

•Man's just watched his wife, throwing herself to that man, round-house kicking him, with a straight face. Then suplexing that guy with raw strength.

•He's not sure if he's the wife or nah.

•So, in the end. He has to be the one that stops you from beating the guy to the dirt and turning the guy into a DIY plant (Aye, at least it counts as a breathing organism that you surely took out to harvest).

•He gifted you, [your favorite chocolate in a box and your favorite flowers in a bouquet], [the clothes you've been eyeing out for months in your favorite color], [the food you wanted to try out again bc it was so good], [your favorite limited edition shirt], and lastly the dinner he paid for you.

•...Not before calling the cops on this guy's ass.

When your kid almost got kidnapped:

Listen, you're kid is intelligent, but got SOME of your genetics (Rosehearts blood is strong, damn), the kid was left-handed (<-at least how I picture it, you can imagine smth else, though), smart, and almost mature (<- that is, until you arrive at home and the kid did a 180° switching back to a playful kid), and was almost sweet to every stranger (but gives nasty side-eyes at suitors that tries to flirt w/ you whenever you both go shopping), so imagine to your surprise you see your child being DRAGGED by the arm bc of SOMEBODY (And Riddle is a witness before he could do sht cuz your faster):

Lilia Vanrouge [Hanafubukki PLEASE NOTICE ME 🙏🙏🙏]

•What the fuck. Why does he ALWAYS deliver LATE? And why do you turn into Sonic the Hedgehog whenever something happens?? This, has gotta be from the time you were at NRC weren't you? (Or nah, and it was smth else completely)

•Nvm that. Now he's wondering where you've even learned these things.

• "Mommy!!" Cried [insert name], running straight at you, and you, of course, hugged your child back.

•Man, Riddle loves a good wife that knows how to kick ass. And maybe, he could break the cycle with you.

You and Lilia had a very interesting history together (just imagine with me, okay?) And he could never ask for anything else, when he gets nightmares of the war, you somehow know this, always wake up and stay beside him as long as needed until both of you fall asleep. Always there when he needed help but never spoke aloud about it, and always tending to his needs while he tends to others and yours. You, were his great balance in life, though he never showed the signs he was hurting, maybe it dulled overtime, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. So, you were there, you've helped and that was enough for him. And the two of you had a child, [insert name]. The child took their mischief, playfulness, and maturity from their father. While they've taken your dedication and sweetness from you, of course. But the thing is, you and [insert name] were both forgetful of things. But, don't worry, the three of you can be one, happy, but clumsy of a family. So, when the time some random fuck-ass fae comes to hit/kidnap your man/kid? Nah, I'll win.

When your man gets hit:

•The fae had the audacity to flirt with you, now had enough audacity to hit THE general of Briar Valley? HECKS NAWH. The fact is, either the fae didn't realize it was Lilia or was a drunk. [<-but even so, no one can deal with Vanrouge even if they aren't sober]

•As soon as he was about to retort, you came into his vision...

•And round-house kicking the fae with raw strength, even going as far as to tackle him down, stomp on his crotch, and molly-wap the guy towards the air.

•So, let's do a 2nd marriage but this time he's the bride and you're the groom.

•Hmmmm... That strong ass gorilla-like grip you had there... he's thinking he'll be put into his place if he ever dare to cross you.

•Which, will never happen, of course. (Fortunately.)

•Welp! He's doing the chores this time! Please don't look so stern my dear! You'd get wrinkles if you do! Here, a kiss might help you! *Ignoring the guy who is in a current state of physical and psychological pain.*

What if your kid almost gets kidnapped by a fae?:

Now, I'm not saying your kid might be dumb, but although getting genes from Lilia and all. The kid still has some of your genetic, otherwise, that ain't your kid. So, imagine looking away for 1 millisecond, only to see your kid following a man with candies in his pocket, Lilia had already halted the fae, but that didn't stop you from bolting over.

•When Lilia saw you running over like a mad bull, he knew he had to step aside.

•That fae almost met their creator.

•The fact that your child was encouraging and cheering you on was funny to Lilia. Look at his child, aren't they so cute? Aww! And look!- *You bitch-slapping the fae on the ground.* A strong wife he has! Hah! All of you must be jealous he pulled a baddie. (And totally not trembling in fear)

•So after that, you all went back to being that wholesome family that went out for a very wholesome outing together.

Azul Ashengrotto

To start off, Azul had become a successful shady- business man, you became his wife, then the two of you had a child. Which, uncle Floyd and Jade loved to play with and prank Azul. Oh, but this time? Your genes got HALF of the child and HALF of Azul's. And I'm talking abt appearance. So they kinda looked like you, but in mer version. Not sure if they had your eyes or Azul's eyes bit no matter what, your child has the charm of that of a merfolk from the deep-sea. So what will you do, if your man/kid gets hit/kidnapped?

Your man gets hit:

•In no fucking way did that mer just TAINTED your beautiful husband with that hand.

•So when Azul regains composure and sees you holding a slipper, "Honey... What in the fucking sevens are yoU DOING!?-" *Cue to the slipper at max velocity like it's in a speeding dial to contacting the great sevens up above, then gets CHUCKED at the mer in the face, the air vibrating within vicinity.*

•.... babe, what are you exactly? What if our child has that same strength as you- *Gets interrupted by you hugging him.* "Aww, Zuzu, are you okay? You're not hurt anywhere are you?" ... Yes he's fine, just a little bit shaken... [<-Literally]

•So fast forward to him spoiling you in a way someone gets threatened at gunpoint. It's like your the mafia boss instead of him.

•Yeah, his clients are NOT going to mess with Azul's husband. (Did I say husband? Yes. So is he the wife now? Also yes.)

What if your kid gets kidnapped?:

Your child isn't dumb, nor smart. But your child still has underdeveloped strength, so in comes Azul with his two big-ass blueberry popsicle giants. But before they could do anything, a terrifying aura comes rushing in and Azul froze recognizing it was you, as the Tweels witness a practical murder in glee from the usually sweet and dedicated 'wife' of Azul, wondering if they'll ever find the same type of wife like you.

•Holy sevens, here we go again. Didn't this happened last time?

•You were there, forcing the mer to get tf out of that forsaken water, but even if the mer tried to escape under water, you followed with abnormal strength and speed.

The mer kidnapper: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THATTT????" *He said while swimming away from the oncoming silhouette of an angry mother.*

•Yes, your child is safe. Just witnessing you shoving a rock in the mer's throat, flipping him twice, spinning him across the air, and throwing him upwards into the sky, then blasting his dehydrated ass towards the sun.

•Yea, you were officially the man of the house. Not him, damn.

THE END!

A/n: sorry if it took awhile!!! @nesting-dreams !!

[prettypinkporkchop]

❤️❤️❤️ Clumsy reader who since childhood was always accident prone always manages to get cuts and bruises but she’s used to it so she just laughs them off but her imprint embry always gets a small heart attack when she’s hurt that he even tells the pack and imprints to watch her when he’s not around cause she’s pregnant

We love a protective man

You stub your toe on the table at Billy's house. You hiss and lean forward, your baby bump above the table.

"Hey.." Embry says, grabbing your waist.

You look back and smile at him. "No, baby. I'm okay!" You giggle.

"I've got to baby proof the house for you, not the baby." Jacob jokes, setting down your plate of food.

"Not a bad idea." Embry agrees. He sits you down on the chair next to Quil.

Quil eyes you and then look up at your face. "May I feel?" He smiles.

Quil is so excited to be an uncle to Embry's baby. Embry had always been his bestest friend, same with Jake.

You nod your head, smiling at him. He lights up like a kid and gently places his hand on your stomach. He looks over at Embry, who has his arms crossed with an adorable smile.

"He's kicking." Quil gushes.

"He sure is an active baby." Embry smirks.

-----

You step backward, looking at the sign Emily hung up in the living room. You observe its placement. You slightly tilt your head, doing so, you simply lose balance, and Paul grabs your arms.

"Jesus Christ, y/n. Embry will kill me if I don't watch your every move." He chuckles.

You stand straight and look at him laughing. "I'm not that bad. I'll be alright!"

"No, you won't be. Thanks, Paul." Embry walks inside from helping Sam outside. He wraps his arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

"Come on. Let's go get y/n some food." Emily ushers you all at the table.

Everyone else walks inside. Sam grabs Emily and kisses her cheek.

"Guys, please. If you're around her," Embry points at you, "watch her. When I'm not beside her, please. Pregnant and clumsy don't mix." He says.

Jared grabs Embrys shoulders from behind him. "Don't worry, brother. We've got this shit." He laughs, patting his back and then sitting down.

"Guys! I'm okay! Don't be so dramatic." You roll your eyes.

"Y/n, no offense, but even I'm scared." Kim says from the doorway.

Emily places a plate of food in front of you, and you start eating.

----

You try to stand up out of your chair at the bonfire to grab some hotdogs.

Embry is quick to stand up before you and grab onto you. "Baby girl, wait for me to get you." He whispers in your ear.

You softly pat his arm away. "I've got this, Em." You giggle.

"Don't care. Where you headed?" He says with assertiveness.

"Table. I want a hotdog." You look at his face. He smiles down at you. He leans down to peck your lips.

"I'll roast the weenie for you. You sit here. Don't move." He helps you back into the chair.

Embry comes back with a stick and a weenie, placing it in the fire.

"Aye, can you roast one for me?" Paul asks.

Embry flips him off. You giggle and cover your mouth.

"I want princess treatment sometimes." Paul turns you with a smile.

"How much longer until the baby boy is here?" Rachel asks, looking over Paul.

You sigh and rub your stomach. "Any freaking minute now!"

"Yeah, that's why the clumsy girl stays still." Embry scoffs.

He sits next to you after making your hotdog. He kisses your cheek and then whispers in your ear. "You're mine to protect. I love you."

This sends butterflies in your stomach. "I love you, too."

[smallestapplin]

I love you so much, can I request hc’s of g1 Rumble and Frenzy being smitten for the same minibot, maybe have reader be one of Blaster’s cassettes too (like the protective dad he is even tho all his ‘kids’ are grown) thank you

:0!! My first Rumble and Frenzy request! Ohh I hope this is good! (Totally didn’t make myself simp.)

Nearly 2,000 words, I may have gotten lost in the sauce

Reader is gn!

-

-

* Truthfully they are easy and they refuse to admit that to anyone! You were just another one of Blaster’s annoyances, and they were ready to wipe the floor with you until they…didn’t, they failed miserably despite out numbering you, and you clapped back at them, mocking and taunting them into attacking so easily. They hated it, hated it so much as they ended up in a pile, Rumble tossed upon Frenzy and the two laying there groaning.

“You know, you two are cute when you’re not running your intakes.” It was nothing more than a backhanded compliment, so why did your annoying chuckle make their sparks thrum?

* and you do it every time too, a sweet chuckle here, maybe a condescending coo at them there, you even kissed their cheeks after throwing them through trees! They are moving up in the world.

* Rumble is the first to even admit it, he likes you he likes you a lot. You’re calm when fighting but your sass makes him swoon. Even he will admit when you throw insults at Skywarp he’s laughing the loudest and piling on them, which usually gives you a chance to escape the situation. Also the first to (accidentally) defend you when any other con insults you.

 

    “Ay’ you watch yer intake, dweeb! Just cause ya got yer aft beat by a bot less than your size is a skill issue on your part!”

* somehow it completely goes over majority of the cons helms what he really meant by that, thinking it was more out of minimech solidarity. But no, Rumble is smitten, so much so he can barely even fight with you, he throws ever match he has with you because the second your servos are on him he’s blushing and melting, even when you throw him into a cliff side he’s still love struck.

* He tries though! He wants to make it look believable, he wants to look cool for you and strong that he can’t be pushed around, and oh wow you’re glaring at him fiercely wow you’re really handsome and pretty-oh and there he goes, right into the ground.

* Rumble is a mess, he thinks he looks so cool when he yells out “Looking for trouble? Well look no further, cause here comes Rumble!” And is decked in an instant.

* He tries a few pick up lines when your fists cross paths, but he stumbles over his words and mixes up the order of them, but at least it gets a laugh out of you, so that’s a win for him!

* Frenzy is the exact opposite, when your fist collides with his face busting his dermas and his nose, he’s looking back at you with a wild gleam from his visor, and a dangerous sounding scratch from rewinding his tape, and in a flash he’s on you. He wants you to beat him, he wants you to fight him, he wants both of you to prove yourselves here and now! It’s only once you finally pin him, straddled on top of him, both of you ex-venting harshly and covered in spilt energon, does he pause for a moment, wondering if this is what those humans meant by angels as you look divine above him.

* “C’mon, you can hit harder than ‘dat! Yeah, yeah that’s it, give me all you got, doll!”

* Once he realizes his spark is thrumming loudly, he will ruin it by wriggling his servos free just to grab your hips with a smug smirk.

    

  “Lookin’ good like this, you ain’t too bad for an autonoob.”

You swear he is drooling, but you weren’t sticking around to find out.

* The two minicons make it their mission to find you in every battle, both just needing to see you! But it makes it easier to clock their little crush on you, the first to notice is Eject, he saw you off in the distance across the battlefield with Frenzy on your tail and Rumble ready to jump you from your blind spot, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Once close enough he could hear them.

“What happened to all ‘dat fire you had? Ya know, yer’ kinda cute like ‘dis.”

“Frag off, let me go!”

“Easy, we ain’t gonna hurt ya’.”

Their tones were soft, bordering gentle for them, playful, as if talking to someone close and not the enemy, and oh Eject was NOT going to let that fly!

* Once you were freed from being pinned, Eject did not hesitate reporting back to Blaster, the larger mech already treating his cassettes as if his own sparklings despite working under him, the moment he heard of Eject’s findings he was already picking you up and making sure you were safe, even going as far as to take you to the medbay to ensure no trackers or anything was planted on you.

* When you got the clear, Blaster informed your brothers you were to never be alone with those menaces, they clearly took fighting a different way than intended and he was not risking anyone’s spark and safety because of them.

*

Frenzy and Rumble rant to each other about it too, “it’s always some loser comin’ in and keepin’ ‘em from us!” 

“Ta the scrap yard with ‘em! Those bozos keepin’ our sweetspark on a tighter leash just aint fair.”

* everytime they get close to you, Ramhorn plows right into them, or Steeljaw jumps in front of you, hissing wildly and taking bites out of them. But Rumble and Frenzy would much rather those two than Rewind and Eject, once those two get in the way it goes from a basic fight to an all out brawl as your fellow minibots are just as protective over you as Blaster is, and they make it known quickly the two minicons aren’t welcomed near you. It's the worst the two cons have ever ended up injured, but even as Soundwave frets over them, they look more determined than ever to win your spark.

* Even if you are on the enemy side, there is just a pull they feel for you, something about you just keeps dragging them to you, they can’t seem to let go of these festering feelings for you. It becomes clear something is up with them with how bad they are at hiding stuff, but Soundwave doesn’t have time to question them yet.

* It’s the same song and dance, until after one battle a prisoner is brought back to the Decepticon base, you. Seeing you being dangled by your pede, held up but a laughing Starscream nearly makes them rage, but they can’t, for once they feel stuck as they watch you thrash and spew curses at the laughing seeker.

* In that moment you were a prisoner, a bargaining chip to be used against the autobots. Tossed into a holding cell until Megatron was finished with his debriefing with Soundwave and Shockwave. With one look to each other, they knew what they needed to do.

“Great, it’s you two. Visiting hours are over.” You groan out, trying to remain strong as you narrowed your optics at them.

Rumble stands by the door frame leading outside, peering around the corner to make sure the coast was clear just before closing the door. You watch, expression slowly growing more confused as Frenzy opens your cell door and the two minicons rush to your side. You squeak as Frenzy manhandles you forward, showing more of your back and exposing your cuffed servos to Rumble.

“H-hey, what are you doing?”

“Hush,” Frenzy starts, “we’re gettin’ you outta here.”

You blink behind your visor, staring dumbly at the red and black minicon.

“You’re…helping me?”

“Well, tryin’, stupid slaggin’ stasis cuffs always a pain and for what?” Rumble grumbles under his breath.

You can’t stop the soft laugh that leaves you, enjoying his suffering just a little, until all three of you perked up at the sound of the cuffs unlocking and dropping to the floor below. Frenzy lets go of you, no longer needing to balance you, but offers a servo to help you up, which you hesitate in taking, but do so anywhere.

“Why are you two helping me?”

Rumble chokes on nothing, swifty looking away from you even if his cheeks flush a dark blue.

“A-ain’t fer nothin’! Don’t even worry about it, yer thinkin’ too hard about it.”

“Yeah, what this dork said. But stop talkin’ and start movin’ sweetspark!” Frenzy grabs your arm and yanks you along, making you stumble behind him with Rumble trailing right after you.

“Hey, hey! Easy with ‘em.”

“Either ‘dat or we stick around and get caught.”

You can’t fathom why they are helping you escape, you don’t understand what benefit this would give them when one slip up could lead to them getting in trouble, but you are grateful even if you are a little suspicious of them.

You reach blindly behind you, grabbing Rumble’s servo, and pull your arm back to hold Frenzy’s sero, giving both of them a gentle squeeze in a silent ‘thank you.’

Not even seeing the deep blush on Frenzy’s face plate as he scowls, or the fanning motion Rumble gives himself as his internal fans kick on and his frame slowly becomes covered in coolant out of nerves.

You feel bad for leaving when you three finally make it to the edge of the con base, where you can see Autobots slowly coming closer. Your commlink ringing to life as Blaster has been trying to comm you for ages now, but thanks to the cons base you never got them.

Looking back at the two minicons who are ushering you to go before it’s too late, you offer them a soft smile.

“Thank you both, I really owe you one after this.”

“Howzabout a date then?” Frenzy purrs, laughs at the shocked look on your (and Rumbles) face plate.

“A-a date?”

“Don’t listen to him! You ain’t gotta, Frenz here is just a-“

“What am I, huh? Go on, spit it out, you coward!”

The two begin to argue, getting in each other’s faces with so many swears you didn’t think half of them existed until then, but you can’t help but laugh, they are so oddly cute? So pathetic but it’s endearing? Your laugh catches them off guard, making them stop in their fighting.

“Ya know, maybe I will accept that date, if you can beat me next time we fight, that is.”

You’re rushing off and answering your comm before they can answer, leaving them dumbstruck and intakes agap. Slowly they look at each other before holding servos and shierking that it actually worked???? Hello???? Oh my primus they have made it in life????

* Blaster sobs that you’re alive and okay the second you answer your commlink, and the moment you are in his sights the larger bot is over you, picking you up with great care while your brothers pop up from his chassis and each of them checking on you.

* You’re fine, more than fine! But maybe you shouldn’t tell them that, you don’t think they’d be very pleased to hear you’ve fallen in love with the enemy, two of them in fact, and both the minicons to your boss’s rival.

*  But you can dream, can’t you? Your spark thrums when you see the two next, it’s hard not to when they look so excited at the sight of you. You have to bite back a chuckle watching them fight each other or trip over themselves to get to you first.

* These simps will do anything and everything for your attention, dont test that.

[mariahcarreyyy]

currently thinking more abt possessive!lando. wondering what the reactions of the grid would be to see his partner covered in marks, or i guess the first reaction to seeing it for the first time.

i think daniel & carlos would have a FIELD DAY w/ lando LMAO. i also think lewis would tease him abt it too.

hope the finals are going well bae 😩 stick in there!!

also random question: have u seen saltburn LMAO???

— ❄️❄️

p.s. finals are OVERRRR🎉🎉🥳 thank you bae p.p.s. i have. i went into that movie not knowing ANYTHING abt it and lemme tell u nothing was pretty (other than jacob elordi's face) nsfw 18+ under beware⬇️⬇️

When the paddock first witnessed the prominent red hickeys on your neck, it had been at one of the hotter grand prix's. You'd been sweating profusely, moisture forming on the parts of your body you didn't even know could sweat until you'd decided you'd had enough. You had taken off your pink turtleneck—a rookie mistake.

"goddamn, y/n, you getting mauled by a bear behind closed doors?" Daniel guffaws from beside you, a hearty laugh slipping past his lips because ofcourse it does. Shit. Your hands fly up and you attempt to cover the expanse of your neck. Because, when I say Lando marks you everywhere, he truly does. With no shame. A pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind you, and Lando has the fucking audacity to sink his teeth into your exposed shoulder. "finished my media duties, baby, what's goin' on here?" Your boyfriend's former teammate only smiles suggestively and jokes while motioning towards your tainted neck, "just wondering if y/n's dating you or a werewolf." Lando grins. Good, Lan beams internally, that's how it should be. You dating him. You being his. All his, forever.

Carlos had been standing beside you and Lando through this interaction and muttered an empathetic, 'ay, lando, give her neck mercy, you animal' because he was not a stranger to this. The brit was his best friend on the grid and the person he'd spend the most time with, so he was aware that Lan had this possessive tendency. Hell, he was more than aware. If you were in close proximity to Lando, you best believe his lips were on you in any way possible. The spaniard couldn't count on one hand how many times he'd have to talk to Lando while the latter was licking, biting, sucking at your neck and jaw.

It was safe to say that the color of your cheeks rivals that of your turtleneck now.

[ldydeath]

New Beginnings | Kang Daesung

Summary: Daesung is prepping for his new album and tour when you find out you’re pregnant. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, but that’s it. Author’s Note: This was a request that I’m going to turn into a two part (maybe more) series. This is pure fluff, because Daesung deserves happiness always, my sweet boy.

Ever since Daesung had announced his album and tour things had been hectic to say the least. He was still filming episodes of Zip Daesung as well as fighting in photoshoots, rehearsals, and press interviews.  You two had barely had time to see each other as you were running out the door to your respective jobs. You were the main choreographer for all the guys so you knew at some point your schedules would align again soon. You however hadn’t been expecting everything to come to a crashing halt right after Jiyong’s concerts.

“Are you sure you’re ok? I hate leaving you when you’re sick.” You waved you hand from the bed as Daesung stood in the doorway.

“I’ll be fine. I just need some ginger tea and sleep. Go to work.” Daesung sighed and blew you a kiss before heading out the door.

You’d been sick for what felt like weeks at this point. Everytime you thought you were getting better you’d be hit by another wave of nausea. You’d had your suspicions that maybe you weren’t sick, maybe it was something else, but you needed to be sure. Daesung’s wish had always been to be a father by thirty five and with that age quickly coming to an end you didn’t want to get his hopes up if you weren’t pregnant. 

Once you were sure he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom. The pregnancy test had a three minute wait time which felt cruel when you’d already been waiting so long, but with a sigh you sat the stick on the counter and set a timer while you did your skincare routine. You hoped having something to do while you waited would take your mind off of the possibility that you were pregnant, but your eyes kept wandering over to the test. 

Your heart skipped when the timer on your phone went off and you sat down the lotion bottle in your hand, exchanging it for the test. You let out a small sob when you read the words: PREGNANT. It was finally happening. You needed to tell Daesung, and you needed to tell him right now. You rushed back to the bedroom, test still in hand and dug through the closet for an outfit. Anything would do, he would just be at the studio practicing anyway.  Throwing the test into your bag, you headed off to the studio. 

“Aein?” His eyes widened when he saw you walk into the studio, holding up a hand to stop the music. “Are you okay?” He walked over to you, his hands on your face in an instant inspecting you for damage. 

“No, Dae I’m fine. I just…I have news that couldn’t wait.” You smiled at him before tearing your gaze away from him and digging around in your purse. Daesung’s face crinkled in confusion as you handed the test to him. 

“You’re pregnant!” You nodded and he picked you up, spinning you around.

“Put me down!” You laughed. 

As he placed you on the ground you heard clapping around you, suddenly remembering you weren’t alone. You glanced over Daesung’s shoulder looking at all the backup dancers who had become your family over the years, and you spotted two surprising faces making their way to you. Jiyong and Youngbae. 

“Congratulations you two!” Youngbae slapped Daesung on the back as Jiyong pulled you into a hug. 

 “Thank you!” You pulled back from Jiyong eyeing the men suspiciously. “What are you doing here?” 

“Just hanging out.” Jiyong shrugged, a hint of mischief in his eyes. 

“You’re planning something?” You looked between all three of them, your hands falling to your hips. “For his show?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Aye. I’m the main choreographer, I have a right to know.” 

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Daesung sent a pointed look to the guys before ushering you out the door, the guys following behind. 

“You do not need to cancel your day for me, Dae. I’m fine.” He shrugged at you as he led you to the passenger side of the car you’d driven in. 

“I didn’t want to be here today anyway.” He shrugged as he slid into the driver's seat. “You’ll have to give me a ride tomorrow.” He smiled at you as he sped off in the direction of the house. 

Daesung spent the rest of the afternoon taking care of your every need, making lunch, bringing you so much tea you thought you might float away, but you weren’t complaining. The permanent grin on his face was everything to you. After he’d cleaned the kitchen for what felt like the tenth time, he slid into bed next to you. 

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby.” He whispered as he brought his face to yours, planting a soft kiss on your lips. You grinned back at him. 

“We’re going to be a real family now, I’m so excited.” 

“There’s only one thing…”his voice trailed off as he got out of bed.

“What?” He didn’t answer you, instead he moved to your side of the bed and picked you up. “Dar what are you doing?” You laughed. 

He didn’t respond as he carried you through the apartment. Shifting you in his arms as he slid the patio door open and setting you down safely on the ground of the balcony. You raised a brow at him as he turned your body, positioning you so that you had your back to the beautiful city view you loved so much. Daesung dropped to his knee, pulling a box out of his pocket and your breath caught in your throat. 

You two had been together for so long that sometimes you forgot you weren’t married, it just kind of felt like you were. Daesung had been carrying the ring around for weeks, waiting for the perfect opportunity to propose. He’d been considering going the cheesy route, and proposing to you on stage but this felt more right. More you. He’d wanted to marry you the day he met you, but life had gotten in the way and no time had perfect enough to ask you. You were pregnant now though, and what was more perfect than this? 

“Dae what are you doing?” You whispered as he propped open the box. 

“Marry me?” 

It wasn’t some elaborate speech about how much he loved you, you already knew all of that. It was simple, it was the hardest question he’d ever ask you, but it was so very you, so perfect.  Your head was nodding before words could come out. 

“Yes, in a million lifetimes, yes.” 

He barely got the ring on your finger before he was pulling you in for a hug. His lips on yours as he kissed you with so much love. You clung to him, kissing him back, never wanting this moment or this day to end. He pulled back, your foreheads resting on each other as you locked eyes, matching grins on your faces. 

“I love you more than I can put into words.” 

“I love you too.” You pecked his lips again, his hands moving to rest on your stomach.

“There’s a baby in there.” He laughed, tears flooding his eyes. How had he gotten so lucky? 

“There is.” Your hand rested on top of his. “I’m so excited I get to do this with you.” 

“Me too, baby. Me too.” He kissed you one more time before leading you back into the apartment. 

Everything was finally falling into place. He was going on tour, his band had finally reunited, you were pregnant and had agreed to marry him. Daesung’s heart could burst from all the joy he felt in this moment. He could not wait to spend the rest of his life with you and your future baby. He truly was the luckiest man on the planet.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @gdinthehouseee @tulentiy @petersasteria @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @mirahyun @breakmeoff @1950schick @sherrayyyyy

[thegnomelord]

Hii, here for the prompt game of yours!

What about prompt 1. Where the reader is the one suggesting it to Ghost? Like, big ass guy sitting on your lap I think it'll be interesting. If you haven't gotten any ideas maybe there aren't enough seats in a vehicle and he's forced to just sit? But if you've already got a few ideas for this please use yours instead! I love your writing and how your brain works.

You've been doing great! Thank you for your hard work! Fighting man

Anon you and I share the same brain waves lol I legit made that prompt with Ghost in mind :Dd Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Do you-" "If you suggest I sit in your lap I'll kill you."

CW:NSFW, Sub Top M!Reader, Dom Bottom Ghost, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, quickies.

Simon's going to kill him. Stab him, shoot him, feed him to the dogs. And Johnny just looks at him like an innocent puppy with a smug look in his eyes. Of course Soap would suggest going to Vegas and of course he'd rent a car that's too small to fit them all, and of course Simon's the last one to get in...

"Come on LT, hop in already." The Scotsman grins, settling next to you in the back. Gaz is riding shotgun and Price's behind the wheel since he doesn't trust any of you to drive. "Wouldn't want to miss out on loosing all yer money."

Simon's contemplating strapping Soap on the roof or sticking him in the car's boot when you pat your thighs. "Do you-"

"If you suggest I sit in your lap I'll kill you." He cuts you off, glaring at you. He knows he's dead on the target when you give a sheepish grin, honestly he doesn't understand why you'd want him of all people to sit on your lap when he's at least a hundred pounds heavier than you.

"Oh come on Ghost," But you just give a charming grin, confident like a chihuahua against a wolf. "I promise I'll keep my hands to myself." You raise your arms up in surrender, giving him your best puppy eyes.

"Fine," Ghost relents. The shuffle into the car is awkward and he bumps his head on the roof a couple of times, knees knocking into yours before he finally sits down. He's not even surprised when your arms wrap around his waist and you pull him down on your lap further, your hands unable to meet on his front from how big he is.

"That's a comfortable seat, yeah?" Gaz snorts as you nuzzle your nose into his broad back, he's so big you can't even look over his shoulder, his weight pressing down fully on you.

"Aye, look happy like a hog in shite." Johnny snickers, trying and failing to duck from Ghost's hand, ending up getting knocked upside the head. "Ow- that hurt!"

"There's nothing inside there to hurt." Ghost snarks, feeling your chest shake as you muffle your snickers into his back.

"Settle down boys." Price grumbles as Gaz laughs next to him, Price's eyes meeting both Simon's and Johnny's. They mutter out low 'yes sir's before he humphs, turning the car on. The engine rumbles to life like a dying geriatric.

"Christ MacTavish where did you find this piece of shite?" Ghost asks incredulously, and Johnny answers something in Gaelic. He looses track of time when he starts bickering with Johnny until Price turns on the radio, resulting in Gaz and Soap belting out songs at the top of their lungs. He feels your hands squeeze around him, reminding him that he's currently sat on your lap; strange how he could forget that.

The drive to Vegas is hell, the road's bumpy like a teenager's pimply face and Simon bumps his head on the car's ceiling every time Price drives over a pothole. It wouldn't be as bad if he didn't feel. . .you. . . brush against his arse every time it happened.

He was lucky he was wearing his mask so no one would notice how hot he became, hands clenching into fists each time your cock poked him, his throat becoming dry. He could feel you stiffen, suffering under the same problem he was, heat slowly burning in your veins.

And of course Price had to pick the bumpiest road he could, not a second would go without the car rocking and making you grind against him, the bloody bastard probably did it on purpose. At least none of them mentioned how you and Ghost had become silent, you literally biting down on his jacket to keep silent.

Finally after a few hours of hell on wheels Price stop at a gas station that looks like it hasn't seen human life since the 80's. Simon doesn't even wait for the car to shut off before he's jumping out of it, "With me," he growls with a hand firmly grasping the front of your clothes.

You don't resist him as he pulls you into an equally sleazy bathroom, the type of which you'd find in a brothel. "Simon, what-" You suck in a breath as he all but throws you down on the toilet lid, locking the stall behind him.

"Shut'it." Simon growls, pulling his face mask down to kiss you roughly, blindly opening your pants to fish out your cock. You're both hard as rocks, Simon separates from the kiss to push his fingers against your lips. "Open."

Simon groans as you take his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers. If you had more time Simon would have had you eat him out, but fingers will have to do for now, especially with how you look when he catches your tongue between his fingers.

"So eager." Ghost hums, undoing his belt and dropping his pants and underwear, bracing a hand on your shoulder as he leans down and roughly pushes two fingers inside him. He groans and kisses you again, quickly stretching himself just enough so he doesn't tear anything.

"Just for you." You mutter against his lips, sucking in a breath when Simon pulls his fingers out, spits on his hand and lubes your cock.

"You better be." He grins, swiftly turning around so his back is facing you. Holding your cock in one hand he moves so your tip is poking his hole, slowly sinking down. Your hands fly to his hips, gripping firmly but not trying to slow him down. "Yeah, that's a good lad." He groans, relishing the burn and stretch, the sizzle of pain muddling with pleasure, electricity running up his spine.

God, he's so big compared to you it does your head in, your hips bucking up to meet his, chasing the tight heat enveloping your cock. "Fuck, Si," You groan, biting the back of his jacket to silence your moans as Simon starts riding you. He's unable to get a good leverage with the awkward position so you two end up rutting like animals, your hand coming around to stroke his cock, feeling his walls tighten around you.

You two cum in record time, a low moan leaving his lips as he shoots cum across the stall door. His hole flutters and clenches around you, muttering 'come on, give it to me' over and over again until you're cumming inside him, his walls milking you for all you have.

You feel him slump against you, tight heat still trying to pull more cum from you. You both are breathing heavy, bliss coursing through your veins as you tilt your head to kiss the nape of his neck lazily.

"Oi, quit snogging else we're leaving yer here!" Johnny's voice rings from the other side of the stall door.

Oh, you are going to kill him.

[yue-chan077]

[ #HonkaiStarRail #Aventurine ]

❤️🎅 ᴹᵉʳʳʸ ᶜʰʳⁱˢ��ᵐᵃˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴴᵒˡⁱᵈᵃʸˢ 💙🦚

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Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! ✨💙🎄🎁

still can't believe that we made it this far ! congratulations to all of us and to all who is seeing this post ,huge confirmation that we all friggin' did GOOD this year! 😤👏✨

may your day be filled with love and blessings esp around with people important to you ☺️✨💙 have a great day everyone!

and thank you for sticking with me! we still have a load to go for the upcoming new years ! ✨💙👏

that is all for today ya alls--✨ back to the pending wips and workload Yue goessss again aye--! ~~🤸

( PROHIBITED TO REPOST USE PRINT TRACE ANYWHERE, DONT REMOVE MY SIGNATURE WHEN REPOSTING )

#YueArt

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Match maker||Franco colapinto x fem!norris!reader

Summary — Lando takes Franco under his wing and sets him up with his sister

Word count— 2826

A/n another one form my old account

“You did what?!” You asked your brother Lando who stood on the other side of the kitchen bar scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Invited Franco over for dinner,” Lando repeated.

“I get that but why? And why to my apartment?” You asked, looking at him.

“Because I want the guy to know that he has a friend. F1 is lonely sometimes and your apartment is more homey than mine” Lando said as a matter of fact.

“Lando my apartment is a mess, look at the state of the place,” you said gesturing around the apartment.

Lando looked around your apartment looking for the so-called mess. The only thing he saw was the cat toys striding all over the floor and a couple of yellow dying leaves on one of your plants. Raising an eyebrow he looked at you skeptically holding up a finger as if he was saying one second.

You watched as he picked up the cat toys and tossed them into the basket before turning his attention to prune your plant gently taking off the yellow leaves.

“They're all clean,” Lando said, smiling proud of himself.

You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes, "you didn't have to do that, you know?" you say, crossing your arms as he returned the gardening scissors to their place in the kitchen drawer.

"I know but now Franco won't see any mess, problem solved," he said with a grin, clearly proud of his work.

You shook your head gently, "you're a mess sometimes, you know that?" you teased, sticking your tongue out at him, gently swatting his arm.

Lando laughed good-naturedly, "hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. He leaned against the kitchen counter and looked at you with a smile.

"But, thanks for letting me have Franco over," he said, his tone suddenly more serious, "I just want to make sure he feels less lonely around here, you know?

“F1 life can be pretty isolating at times," he said, running a hand through his messy hair. You felt a wave of empathy towards Lando, knowing that the F1 life wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. The constant traveling, media scrutiny, and being surrounded by people yet often feeling alone wasn't a piece of cake.

“I completely understand,” you said gently, moving to lean next to him against the kitchen counter. "I'm happy to have you guys over, just maybe a bit more notice next time?" you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

Lando chuckled, "I promise to give you a heads-up in the future," he said, holding up a hand as if he was swearing.

A silence fell for a moment before Lando glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"So tell me, you're single right? Do you mind if I play matchmaker for you tonight?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You felt a mixture of surprise and amusement wash over you.

"Lando, are you serious?" you asked, trying to hold back a smile.

Lando just shrugged, "What can I say? I love playing matchmaker. Besides, I think you and Franco would get along great," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Also what should I make for dinner?” You asked Lando.

“Ooh Make your Chicken Parmesan and my life is yours,” Lando says dramatically falling on the floor. Lando scrambled off the floor, a wide grin on his face.

"You're a goddess" he declared, exaggeratingly bowing down to you.

"Now if only Franco is as easily pleased as me" he teased, wagging his eyebrows. You shook your head, trying to hide a smile. "Lando, will you shut up and help me cook?"

He laughed and saluted you. "Aye, aye captain," he said, pushing himself off the floor.

As you both moved to the kitchen and started prepping the ingredients, Lando couldn't help but keep bringing up the thought of you and Franco together.

"You know, Franco is a nice guy," Lando said, chopping away at a pile of garlic "I think you two would get along great," he said, his eyes never leaving the chopping board.

You hummed in response, stirring the marinara sauce.

Lando glanced up at you with a smirk. "He's single too, you know" he teased, clearly enjoying this a little too much. You shot Lando a stern look, trying to suppress a smile. "Lando, I know you like to play matchmaker but slow down a bit, will you?"

Lando feigned surprise, a hand coming to his mouth in mock shock. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said innocently, going back to chopping the garlic.

You rolled your eyes at his act. "You're the worst," you said, shaking your head.

Lando chuckled, "But you love me"

You couldn't deny that. You did love him, as annoying as he could be at times. But you weren't about to give him that satisfaction.

"Sometimes," you said with a grin, shaking your head.

Just then, the buzzer for the front door rang throughout the apartment - signaling that Franco was there. Lando's face lit up, like a kid on Christmas morning. "I'll get the door," Lando said quickly, jumping up from the counter before you had the chance to respond.

"Lando, wait-" you called out, but he was already rushing out of the kitchen.

Sighing, you tried to refocus on the marinara sauce. But the thought of meeting Franco for the first time started to make your nerves flutter.

Lando quickly crossed the living room and opened the front door. Franco stood there with a smile, holding a bottle of red wine in his hand.

"Hey mate, glad you could make it," Lando said, stepping aside to let him in.

Franco stepped through the door, his eyes immediately taking in your apartment. "Wow, this is a nice place, thanks for having me," he said, handing Lando the bottle of wine.

"Ah, thanks for bringing the wine," Lando said, taking the bottle in his hands and studying the label.

"And no problem, my friend," he said, giving his shoulder a firm pat.

You picked that moment to stroll into the living room, curiosity getting the better of you. At the sight of you, Franco gave a charming smile.

"Hello there," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine for some reason. You offered him a warm smile in return, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at his words.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N)" you said, holding out a hand.

Franco took your hand in his own, giving it a gentle shake. His hand was warm and firm against your own, and you found yourself blushing a bit at the contact.

"Franco," he said, his smile still in place. Lando watched the interaction, his smirk growing wider. Lando cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

"Come on, let's head into the kitchen, (Y/N) just about finished preparing dinner," he said, gesturing to the kitchen.

Franco gave you one more smile before following Lando into the kitchen. You stayed a step behind them, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

As you entered the kitchen, you went back to stirring the marinara sauce. Lando started to pour some of the wine into three glasses, handing one to you and one to Franco.

As the three of you drank and joked around with casual small talk, you found yourself getting more comfortable in Franco's presence. He was polite, witty, and had a smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts.

When it came time to eat, the three of you sat around your kitchen table, laughing and enjoying the delicious chicken parmesan.

As you all talked, you realized that Lando was suspiciously quiet - watching you and Franco intently, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Lando continued to silently observe you and Franco, occasionally chuckling to himself. You noticed this and shot him a few pointed looks, trying to signal for him to behave.

But Lando just smiled innocently, sipping his wine.

Meanwhile, you and Franco continued chatting, discovering mutual interests, and sharing stories. The conversation was easy and natural, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company.

As the meal came to a close, the conversation started to die down. Lando set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Well, that was bloody fantastic," he said, patting his stomach.

Franco nodded in agreement, also leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, best chicken parmesan I’ve ever had," he said, looking over at you with a grateful smile.

You felt a blush rise in your cheeks at the compliment. "Oh, it's nothing really" you said, waving a dismissive hand.

Lando smirked into his wine glass, watching you two interact. He was enjoying this far too much.

"Nonsense, it was absolutely fantastic" Franco said, his eyes never leaving yours.

Suddenly, Lando cleared his throat, interrupting the moment.

"You know, (Y/N). Franco here is single" he said, feigning innocence. You tensed up at Lando's words. Here we go.

Franco coughed awkwardly, his cheeks tinged a light pink.

You sent Lando a sharp glare, warning him to back off. Which also resulted in you kicking Lando in the shin underneath the table. Lando winced in pain, "Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his shin as he shot you a betrayed look.

Franco chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying your playful banter. "Sorry," you said to Lando, not sounding at all sorry. Lando just grumbled something under his breath as he continued to rub his shin.

Glancing at Franco, you found he was looking right back at you, an amused smile playing on his lips. "Hey, I’m just trying to help you guys out" Lando said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Franco shook his head, "It's alright, I think it's quite funny actually" he said, glancing between you and Lando. You chuckled, mentally cursing Lando for his attempts at match-making.

“You’ll have to forgive him, he’s a bit of a meddler” you said, giving Lando a pointed look. Lando let out a huff of protest, "I’m not a meddler, I prefer the term matchmaker".

You rolled your eyes at his comment, shaking your head. "More like a pain in the ass" you muttered. Franco chuckled beside you, clearly amused by your banter.

Lando clutched his chest in mock offense, "I'm hurt. Really hurt." You just rolled your eyes again, used to Lando's melodrama. “Well would you look at the time I should be going” Lando said looking at his bare wrist as he got up sprinting to the door.

“You’re not even wearing your watch!” You called out to him. Lando ignored your comment and quickly made his way to the door in a few long strides.

"Bye guys, have fun!" he called out over his shoulder before exiting the apartment. The door slid shut behind him, leaving you alone with Franco.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. "That boy, I swear he never knows when to stop" you said, rolling your eyes.

Franco chuckled, looking over at you. "He seems like a fun guy" he said.

You shook your head, "Yeah, fun and a massive pain in the ass" you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. The two of you stood silently for a moment, the weight of Lando's words hanging in the air.

Trying to break the tension, you cleared your throat. "Well, would you like some more wine?" you asked, gesturing to the bottle on the table.

Franco smiled warmly and nodded. "Yeah, why not" he said, holding out his glass for you to refill it. You poured the red liquid into his glass, your hands slightly shaking with nerves.

As you refilled your own glass, you snuck a glance at Franco, taking in his sharp jaw and kind eyes.

God, he really was handsome. You quickly averted your gaze, mentally scolding yourself for ogling him like that.

As you set down the bottle, you decided to break the silence.

"So, Lando mentioned you’re single?" you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. As soon as the words left your mouth, you mentally smacked yourself. Of course you would ask that.

Franco let out a chuckle, his eyes flashing with amusement.

"Yeah, I'm single" he said simply, swirling the wine in his glass.

A silence fell over the two of you for a moment, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall.

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, not knowing what to say next.

Franco glanced up at you, his gaze suddenly intense. "And you? Are you single?" he asked, his voice low. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you met his gaze.

"Y-yeah, I’m single" you manage to squeak out, your voice betraying your nerves.

Franco nodded in response, his eyes studying your face intently. The tension in the air was suddenly thick enough to cut with a knife.

Despite your nerves, there was something about the way he was looking at you that made your stomach flutter.

The air was charged with a tension you couldn’t fully understand, and it made it hard to focus on anything except his gaze.

After a few moments of silence, Franco cleared his throat. “Can I…ask you something?”

Franco took a sip of his wine before continuing, his eyes never leaving you.

"Did Lando set us up?" he asked bluntly.

You were taken aback by his bluntness, but after a moment of surprise wore off, you chuckled.

"Yes, he did" you admitted sheepishly. Franco chuckled as well, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I had a feeling he was up to something” he said, his voice low. “But I wasn’t expecting him to be quite so…forward”

You nodded, a smile on your face. “Lando can be a little reckless at times” you said, shaking your head fondly. “Clearly” Franco said, his tone amused.

He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes boring into you. You fidgeted nervously, unsure of what to say or do next.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice quieter than before. “Can I tell you something?”

Your heart rate picked up speed as you swallowed heavily. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead" you said, bracing yourself. Franco took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I actually..." he trailed off, suddenly looking nervous.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you waited for him to continue, holding your breath. "I...I actually find you very attractive" he said in a rush, his cheeks turning a light tint of pink.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your mind suddenly going blank. Did he just say what you thought he said?

"I, uh..." you mumbled, your mind scrambling to come up with a response.

Franco chuckled, sensing your surprise. He ran a hand through his hair, looking suddenly sheepish.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt that out like that” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shook your head, still trying to process what he had just said.

"No, no, it's alright" you finally managed to say, your voice shaky. "I, uh...I find you attractive too" you admitted quietly, feeling your cheeks flush.

“Would you like to go out sometime soon with me?” Franco asked nervously.

Your heart thumped in your chest as Franco's words hung in the air. He wanted to go out with you.

"Yes" you said, without hesitation. "I'd love to"

A smile slowly spread across Franco's face. "Really?" he asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

"Yes, really" you laughed, the nerves finally gone.

Franco's smile widened, his eyes sparkling. "Great" he replied, the relief evident in his voice. "How about this Friday? I'll pick you up at 8?"

Your heart fluttered at his suggestion. "That sounds perfect" you said, a smile on your face.

Franco let out a sigh of relief. "Great, it's a date" he said, looking genuinely excited. The two of you continued talking for a while longer, the previous tension replaced by a lighthearted chatter.

Eventually, Franco looked down at his watch and winced. "It's almost midnight, I should probably head home" he said, reluctantly standing up from his chair.

You stood up as well, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. But you knew he was right - it was getting late.

“Yeah, I guess it is pretty late” you said, glancing down at your own watch.

Franco gathered his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. You walked him to the front door.

As you opened the door, Franco turned to face you. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was hesitating.

Finally, he spoke up. "Tonight was really nice" he said, his voice softer than before.

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter. "Yeah, it was" you agreed, holding his gaze.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

RUN RABBIT, RUN RUN RUN. ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: DARK! King Aegon ii Targaryen x Common Folk! Reader prompt: Aegon has been watching you from years. Now that he is King, he intends to make his intentions clear. key: Y/n = Your name, R/n = Random name, E/C = eye color word count: 1, 000+ words

He was six and ten when he first met you, well more of, he saw you from a distance. You were a pretty little thing⎯well, for some common folk girl, you were pretty. From what he saw from a distance, you worked as a barkeep, cleaning tables and sometimes serving ale or whatever shitty drink they served at that tavern. 

You were pretty, maybe growing more so in a few years, but enough for the other drunks to take notice as well. He didn’t like it. Even though he had never spoken to you, or really interacted with you at all. You were his pretty little barekeep to gawk at.

It took everything in him to not set Sunfyre upon all of them, burning the shitty little tavern up in flames. So then, he could take their charred remains and show what happened when others touched what was his. But, he digressed. For now. 

Slowly sauntering into the tavern, he searches for you in the crowd of common folk, his gaze predatory and determined. Since his coronation as King, he had been busy, far too busy to leave the Red Keep to go to Flea Bottom. All he wished for now was to have a drink and watch you as he had done a dozen times before. He was sure if he was going to speak to you yet. It wasn’t that he did not have the courage to speak to you. 

He was a Targaryen, and now King, he had nothing to feel ashamed of or worried about. But rather he liked the way you squirmed under his gaze. He liked the way you would grow stiff and then blush a soft pink when you realized that it was just him. It was adorable and a good ego boost to know that he could get you all flustered without even needing to speak. 

“All hail the new King!” Some drunk slurs aloud, “From the King of Flea Bottom to the King of the Seven Kingdoms!”

“Aye!” 

“All hail!”

Rolling his eyes at the drunken babbling that filled the tavern, he sits down at his usual table, kicking his feet up on a chair. Drumming his fingers against the table, he looks around for you, growing wary as he doesn’t see you in the tavern. Clenching his jaw tightly as his temper starts to rise, he holds back at lashing out, his mind running a million miles per hour.

“Where the hell is that damn girl?! Y/n!” A barkeep behind the bar rants, “Oi! You, go get Y/n.”

Not even the other barkeep’s knew where you were at. You weren’t here. You were always on time. Why the fuck were you not here? Where the fuck were you at?

Feeling his temper bubbling with each second that he doesn’t see you, the loud slamming of a door fills the tavern, nobody paying any mind to it. Seeing you walk inside all soaked from the rain, he instantly calms down at sight of you. 

Slowly trailing his eyes over your soaked figure, you look ethereal like this. Hair all soaked and clothes sticking to you like a second skin, accentuating  your curves. Feeling a presence beside him, he snaps out of his daze, seeing some other barkeep trying to speak to him.

“Can I⎯” 

“No, no, her. I want her.” He orders, pointing at you. 

Watching as you dried yourself off with a rag, he smirks at how your linen underskirt was practically sheer. He wondered, if he spilled his seed in you, would a bastard grow in your belly? Would then he be able to whisk you away to the Red Keep, far far away from the drunks and fools that surrounded you both? After all, you would be so grateful for him to do such a thing. You, some lowborn common folk girl, getting the luxury of carrying his child in your belly. 

“Bring me her. I will take nothing but what she brings to me.” He orders.

Feeling a familiar pair of predatory eyes on you, you slowly turn around to see the now King, watching you. He sat at the same table as always, in the center where he and those silvery locks could be gawked at. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you watch as R/n walks away from the table, rolling her eyes hard with a scowl. Cocking her head to Aegon, you didn’t even have to ask to understand that he had rejected her. 

Wiping your hands dry with the rag, your eyes locked onto Aegon’s, e/c meeting predatory violet eyes. Shivering at the gaze, R/n motions for you to go to him with a cock of her head, her iration clear as day at not getting any coin from him. Mustering up your courage, you walk over to him, coming face-to-face for the first time ever. He was a lot more handsome up close. Alluring violet eyes, silvery white Targaryen hair and pouty lips. 

“Do you wish to make your King happy?” He asked, his voice rough and low.

“I do, your grace.” You nod, “ How can I be of service to you?”

“I can think of many ways.”

Growing tense at the lewd comment, you shift in place, unsure if he was jesting with you or if he was being serious. You have never spoken to him up to this point, just watching from afar or in passing. You could not tell. Chewing on your bottom lip a little nervously, he places a hand on your waist, letting out a full belly laugh. Weakly nodding unsure, he slowly trails his hand down to your hip, not quite inappropriate but not appropriate at the same time. 

“Can I get you some ale, your grace?” You ask, attempting to change the subject.

“No.”

“Or mayhaps some bread from the kitchen?” You try again, “I am sure we can find something for you if that is what you desire.”

“No.”

Blushing under his intense gaze, he slowly stands up from his seat, looking like a predator stalking its prey. Tilting your head up as he towers over you, you resist the urge to cower, not wanting him to see your fear. In your time working here you learned men tended to like seeing women cower, it was like a game to them. Softly gulping as he digs his nails into your hip, a voice in the back of your head tells you to run away, that he was dangerous. But, your legs would not let you move. 

“Your grace?” You whisper, your voice weak. 

“Then you will not scream, cry, or protest as I take you back to the Red Keep.” He whispers, “I would hate to have to kill you when I have just gotten you within my grasp. Now walk, my little rabbit.”

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hey I've been wanting to ask you for a while a request I've had. Can I have some headcanons of the mercenary's realizing their feelings for the 10th merc after they brutally bash in a enemy's skull in for trying to kill said merc. And then the 10th merc looks at them with extreme concern while checking up on them. Before turning around and killing another enemy that was about to kill them.

I would love to see the mercenary's reaction to being saved by their crush and having to deal with the horny panic of finding them attractive.

If you dont want to do this that's fine. Thanks again for making really good tf2 x reader content! I love it! Byebye have a good day/night.

The Mercs realizing they have feelings for Y/N after watching them brutally kill an enemy (NSFW)

WARNING: severe amounts of simping

Scout:

- Oh. Oh.. OH. OHH NOOO! OUR SCOUUTTT. HE’S BROKKEEENNN

- You look so dazzling with the blood on your clothes and the rockets whizzing past you. The explosions in the background creating a fine backdrop. Cue the cheesy romantic 40s music as you kill people in slow motion and Scout is in awe.

- You’re confused. He had been standing there even after you had successfully cleared the point. You wave your hand in front of his face and he doesn’t react.

- In his head he’s already having romantic fantasies of frolicking with you on the beach and bashing in people’s heads. The idea of you beating the shit out of him particularly makes him feel a certain way. He has no idea why. Oh god, is this normal? Wait.. Why is he already having thoughts of marrying you and growing old together?

- Immediately goes whining to Spy like a little pussy about you. He’s batshit scared of you but also has the most confusing boner. Good job. You sent him crying after his daddy. You hear a “SPYYYYYYYYYYYeeeEEEE!” as you leave the battlefield. Followed by a groan from said frenchman.

———————————————————————-

Soldier:

“NOW HANG ON PRIVATE THATS NOT EXACTLY— Oh.. Ah..” Soldier hisses through his teeth and puts his fist to his mouth, his helmet falls back a bit from the impact you made of kicking an enemy demoman’s sticky bomb back to him. You can see his expression is incredibly conflicted about this. With mild arousal. Holy shit. Somebody as batshit crazy as him. Who the hell kicks an active explosive?

- Because on one hand, you’re impractical yet affective at what you do. Just like him. But on the other hand that’s HIS THING. NOT YOURS! He’s one to act incredibly erratic on many occasions when strategy is in the back of his head awaiting the stupidly fast yet eons long conveyor belt.

- Becomes incredibly infatuated by you on the spot. Creating a sort of vague idea in his head on what you could be like. Cue very vivid fantasies of you and him strangling a sumo wrestler while naked, claiming france as an American owned country for some reason by sticking the flag into the tip of the Eiffel tower while naked, and having a fine American breakfast on the deck of your cottage.. (while naked.)

- “Is that a pistol in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You ask him afterwards. “NEGATIVE. THAT’S A ROCKET. I ran out of room.” He lies. You believe him because that sounds like something he’d do.

———————————————————————-

Demoman:

- You destroy a sentry nest he was trying to demolish around a choke point. He’s both offended, and slightly attracted. You’ve destroyed his pride and humbled him. Normally Demoman is the only one who can take down a sentry nest unless Medic has full charge on somebody — among other things.

- He opens his mouth to protest but you silence him with an award winning smile that makes his heart flutter. As you run past him to head over to Medic and regain your strength, he’s scratching his stubble. Trying to comprehend the slurry of feelings. Demoman is an adult and he’s old enough to be fully aware that you can feel multiple emotions at once; that doesn’t make him any less disoriented though.

- “Ay.. finally somebody who’s on my level!” he calls after you. Promising he’ll outrank you next round. His competitive nature demands it. He’s trying so hard to ignore his boner right now. Assuming it to be just from adrenaline.

- Well, you’re tied. You’re both equal amounts on the next scoreboard. He stares at it on the intel computer terminals in disbelief. He immediately downs a shit load of his scrumpy. Holy shit. He has a massive crush on you now. Begins to wonder how drunk he can get before he forgets about this.

———————————————————————-

Engineer:

- You distract him so much he doesn’t even realize the jammed shell in his shotgun at first. You’ve made him lose like half of his life experience in a fraction of a second and he tries to take out the jammed shell and ends up burning himself. “God. DANGIT.”

- inwardly embarrassed and trying to make it seem like all was normal; he slaps the back of the gun so the shell falls out. Continues trying to defend the points… emphasis on tries. You’re his type AND you’re blood thirsty. He can’t help but feel slightly intrigued. The sparks of what would eventually be a crush once he starts talking to you more.

- He can’t bring himself to think filthy thoughts of someone he just met, he wasn’t raised like that. Occasionally the thought crosses his mind and he becomes a little angry with himself. Please stop being sexy in front of somebody who was raised in the bible belt. PLEASE! he would beg you if it didn’t sound so weird out of context.

- Fuck it. Christian shame doesn’t beat nature. He has to jerk off to the thought of you after battles in the shower. You’ve fucked him up.

—————————————————————————

Heavy:

- “Heavy, i’m fully charged. Focus on the soldiers in the front and tell me when to— Was zur Hölle?!” Medic complains, looking away from Heavy’s WAY too apparent hard on.

- Heavy would make a great ice sculpture right now. He’s both sweating and frozen in place as he watches you tear the enemy lines to shreds. He rarely feels this way for anybody at all. Heavy was certain his libido evened out as he got older but you just brought him back to square one. He felt like a horny teenager again.

- He wants to lick the blood off your neck so bad. It’s disgraceful. He feels like a disgusting sewage pipe and suddenly wishes the respawn machine didn’t exist so he could permanently die out here just to forget this even happened.

- Eventually waves his hand for Medic to pocket someone else. Goes over and helps you kick some ass. You indirectly both bond from this and successfully kickstart your connection.

———————————————————————-

Pyro:

- You’re the same as them in their point of view. A ‘misunderstood’ killer (Yeah, okay..) who wanted nothing more than peace of mind while they went about their daily business!

- The enjoy he sees in your eyes as you land a hit is marvelous. Every single swing of your melee felt like some sort of complex ballet. There was birds and neon colors following you wherever you went. You’ve now given them a weird fetish for adept mercenaries they had no idea they even had. They want to meet you RIGHT NOW.

- air blasts a poor demoman off a cliff you were fighting. “Hey. It’s alright. I got this.” You tell them. Pyro just tilts their head. You walk on to cap the cart and Pyro follows closely behind you. “What’s up?” You finally ask him, out of curiosity. Pyro just stares. You begin to recall horror stories that the other mercs told you of Pyro.

- They continue following you around as your own personal bodyguard. Engineer tells you that he does the same to him on occasion. To the extent of protecting his sentries. Apparently Pyro just follows people around like a dog because they have no idea how to communicate their interest.

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Sniper:

- Watches you a day before a match doing target practice atop a bridge. The targets in question are in the ravine below. The way you so effortlessly hit each target, only missing a few — for some reason caught his attention. He lowered his scope from his eye and preferred the entertainment of you for a moment.

- You get angry after only missing two. Taking your long range and throwing it aggressively into the ravine. Sniper has no clue why you did this, considering you’re the first person in a while who hasn’t fucked up this course right off the bat. For some reason your aggression is getting him hot and bothered. Is this just a weird preference or a sexual thing? Holy shit, he has no idea.

- Sniper brings his legs together to hide his wood. “Eyes both open with a gun like that, mate. Instinctive to close an eye but I guarantee you, if ya just focus on nothing but the target then boom.” He says. Wondering if maybe he was just overthinking and his penis was being insane.

- “As if you shoot with anything else besides a fucking sniper rifle.” You talk back. “I do, actually.” He says, shrugging at your rage. He didn’t feel like sassing back right now. He was tired. “I could show ya if ya want.”

- He bites his lip, applying pressure to the point it’s red. It was both your bad attitude and shooting skills. He loved a partner who was needlessly edgy. This is seriously the type of guy to swoon over the most edgiest of individuals. Eat nails for breakfast and wear a biker vest for god’s sake while you’re at it.

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Medic:

- Uhm.. Medic’s a little weird.

- Not only is he aroused by you in general but the blood on your clothes and in your hair. The way you kill enemies in-and-itself is arousing him. Much like Engineer he tries to focus on his job to no avail. Ends up pocketing you all day and after the other Mercs ask him about it, he claims it’s because they’re all annoying and not doing their jobs correctly again.

- He sits at his desk at night trying to do paperwork. He can’t focus after what he’s seen today. He begins having incredibly fucked up fantasies of eating your organs. Or you climbing into his chest and sleeping in there. Better yet? sex with both your entrails hanging out! knife play! biting! Dear god he’s gross. God, just shut up.

- He puts a hand to his own heart, feeling his heartbeat. For a second he suspected he was getting possessed or something. But no, he’s just incredibly horny. “Archimedes.” Medic said breathlessly. “I do believe i’m moonstruck. Which is unacceptable..” He sort of laughs nervously.

- Coooo. Brrr.

- “Yes, I wholeheartedly agree.” His voice is hoarse. Medic picks up his bonesaw at the end of his table and looks at his own reflection in it. “Every time I love somebody it ends horribly. Best just get what I want and move on.” He says, darkly. What he doesn’t know is that this is the start of his relationship with you. Enticing you to have sex with him — with your consent — it brings you and him to an incredibly intimate level.

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Spy:

- MOTHERFUCKER AINT PLAYIN. he doesn’t waste time. He sees a fellow serial killer and he immediately goes in for the kill. (Pun intended.) But yeah this is Spy we’re talking about here. He’s a manwhore and I thought the canon already established that.

- “That was some fine work out there.” He tells you slowly. His hands behind his back. “Would you care to join me for a second?” He offers his hand. Which you take hesitantly. He takes you to his quarters and attempts to court you. Which works because he’s something straight out of a romance movie with his clever quips.

- “I have a feeling—“ He begins, slowly offering his hand and hovering it above your thigh, placing it down and rubbing you slowly when he didn’t sense any discomfort. “That we will enjoy each other’s company often, my pet.” He looks for your approval. Any sign of it.

- Dude is so fucking slick that you can’t resist him. He’s unbelievably experienced in romance and knows how to charm his way into your pants. It was like you were under a spell by a hypnotic snake. He ends up getting what he wants and doesn’t hold back. His knife is threatening your back and he’s atop you. “Shhh.”

- Sex happens. Aggressive sex. Right off the bat.