#i was in the process of making this set for my main when this request came through 😂

[evanbuckleydaily]

@carolinahope requested: Buck & Maddie hugging

[take-it-on-the-run]

And I Love Her

Sam Winchester x Reader

The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.

Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.

You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.

He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You failed.

Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.

You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.

He repeated his process on you a few times.

Your arms.

Your hands.

Your legs.

Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.

Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.

Snaps.

Taunts.

Cracks.

Screams.

All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.

You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.

“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.

Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.

Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.

It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.

This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.

Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.

Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.

You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.

You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.

“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.

The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.

Gordon.

“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.

“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.

“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.

If you could call it a body, that is.

His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.

Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.

“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”

Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Natural Breeding Clinic - Prologue

warnings: MDNI, breeding kinks, general sex, mention of infertility and insemination methods

a/n: It's here. Finally.

Teaser - Prologue - Patient 1

You take a deep breath and sit down in front of the laptop, waiting for the other person to join the call. Never in your life had you heard about such a unique reproductive center but lately, you’d been feeling the pull to start your own family. You’d discussed this with relevant people in your life. Everyone had said if you really wanted a child, then you should go with the options you thought were right for you.

You’d done the research, looking into different doctors and fertility clinics, but this one just stood out. There were testimonials from several happy families, saying their methods, though unconventional, were effective, and the doctors showcased on the website were all incredibly striking, each one handsome in their own way. But it was the success rate that caught your eye. A 98% guaranteed rate that you would be pregnant, and that pregnancy would be healthy. The site didn’t go into too much detail on their method, but the wording caught your eye.

“A natural breeding clinic” they’d called themselves. You’d finally bitten the bullet and called, requesting an information session. The screen suddenly lightens and you focus your attention as an attractive woman with shoulder-length brown hair comes into view. She smiles in a welcoming way before speaking.

“Hello. Am I speaking with Mrs. L/n?” You nod and smile back, trying not to look awkward or uncomfortable. 

“Perfect! My name is Shoko Ieiri, I’m the main coordinating nurse here at Jujutsu Fertility. Thank you for scheduling an information session with us.”

“Yes, of course. I just needed more details before I booked an appointment.”

“Indeed.” Shoko claps her hands together before continuing. “Let me start by telling you a little bit about ourselves. We’ve been around for almost 6 years now. What sets us apart is that we focus more on women’s comfort than most other clinics. And we are sought out by people who are willing to use a sperm donor. We do not perform insemination services with sperm that are not from our own stock.”

“Your own stock? Are you associated with a sperm bank? And screen all the donors yourself?”

“Not a sperm bank in the conventional sense. We have 5 doctors who keep excellent health and their sperm is regularly screened to ensure quality. They are the only stock we allow for insemination.”

You blink to make sure you haven’t misheard. “The…doctors? Are you saying the fertility doctor I’d be meeting with will also be my sperm donor?”

“That is correct.” Shoko nods her head to confirm. “You will be meeting with the doctor of your choosing for at least 5 sessions. They will need to be at least once a week. Some women take the week off and come in 5 days straight.”

“5…sessions?” you ask, confused by the wording.

“Yes. It’s to ensure the insemination process has occurred an optimal number of times.”

“Wait…so…I’m going to be inseminated multiple times? How much downtime do I need in between each insemination?”

“Hardly any. Our method isn’t like a typical clinic. Most women leave feeling very normal and a lot more satisfied than when they came in.”

“Not like a typical clinic? So…you don’t use the catheter method?”

“We use minimal medical equipment in our inseminations.”

“Minimal…so what does the procedure entail?”

Shoko clears her throat and continues. “So it begins with you choosing one of our doctors. We highly recommend spending some time on this part. It’s essential that you feel attraction towards your doctor. Once you make a choice, they will reach out to discuss how your insemination experience can be optimized for you. You will receive a biodata on their sexual profile, their preferred methods of arousal, and other relevant details.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” You are at the edge of your seat wondering if you’ve entered an alternate dimension. Surely, this was all being made up? “Arousal, sexual profile- why would I need all these details? I thought sperm donors only gave information like height, weight, medical history and stuff like that.”

“Why wouldn’t they? You’re choosing to be bred by them. They would have to make sure their patient is satisfied with the experience.”

“Bred?” You bleat the word stupidly.

“Yes. We are a natural breeding clinic. We use the method nature has provided to us to ensure a pregnancy.”

The gears in your brain start turning and something finally clicks.

“Are-are you saying…I would be having sex with my doctor?”

“That is correct.” Shoko smiles gently at you, pleased that you have finally caught on.

“The human body doesn’t necessarily enjoy having medical equipment inserted into it. All that cold plastic, and the mechanical methods of insertion. It puts the body in a state of stress. Not good for implantation. So our doctors will inseminate you through the process of intercourse.”

 Her words fall like a fog around you. You can feel your heart racing, a flush creeping into your cheeks. It was…insane. The doctor of your choosing was essentially going to fuck a baby into you. As your mind starts pulling up the images of their doctors, each one impossibly handsome and striking, you feel a familiar throb starting between your legs. Wetting your lips, you try to talk to continue with the information session.

“I see. And…there are benefits to this?”

“Yes. Intercourse allows the body to relax, releasing happy hormones. In this stress-free state, in addition to the knowledge that your doctor is someone you’re attracted to and trust, the chance of an implantation doubles.”

You gape at Shoko, your mind reeling from all the information.

“And…when you say the insemination process will be optimized for my best experience…?”

“The doctor you choose will ask you extensive questions about your preferences. What turns you on, positions, dislikes, toys. It’s to determine if they will satisfy your breeding experience. If they feel they might not be a good fit, they’ll recommend another one of our doctors.”

You swallow, your mouth going dry. “I see. And…what else do I need to know?”

“We will start by collecting your medical history and run some blood work to make sure your body is ready for an insemination process. Women who have a domestic partner will need to get both a waiver and a consent form signed by their partner that they have been informed what happens for the insemination.”

“Of course. Makes sense.”

“You will be assigned an emotional support companion during this process. It will either be myself or Mr. Ijichi Kiyotaka. We are there to help ease your nerves and ensure you enjoy the process. And all patients must think of a unique safeword to use during the insemination process.”

“Safeword?” you parrot back, still processing.

“Yes. At any point during the process, should you feel uncomfortable, your safeword ensures all actions cease and your doctor will give you some space to breathe and reassess the situation.”

All you can do is nod along. Shoko gives you a look of reassurance. “I can guarantee that most women are pleased with the results. And our doctors are quite skilled in what they do. It’s natural to feel a little shy and embarrassed but at the end of the day, we all share a common goal- a healthy baby.”

Despite your initial shock, you feel some of your trepidation fade away. Shoko continues.

“If you are ok with all of this, I can send you the forms to get the process started. Once those are filled, you can take some time to decide on your doctor. Then we’ll set up a call with them.”

“Thank you.” You make a split-second decision. “Please go ahead and send the forms.”

“Excellent. I’ll send them to the email you put in your inquiry. Was there anything else?”

You shake your head no. “I think I have all I need.”

“Great! I look forward to assisting you again.” Shoko ends the call and you immediately go the the website again to look at the doctors, one of which will end up fathering your child. Such a hard decision. How will you ever make the choice?

@thesunxwentblack @kentocalls @actuallysaiyan

@belle-oftheball34 @jesssicapaniagua

@figmentforms

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Hey! I absolutely love your writing! could you maybe write something about Tom x reader. Where she’s working with Josh on a new film? So him and Rachel go to visit on set and he’s a fan? I feel that would be so cute 🥹🫶

Little Visit || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: look at these lil cute gifs I made of Tom, Josh and Rachel 🥹 I love their friendship. And thank you Anon for this request! I imagined them filming Lady Chatterley’s Lover !!! Reading this back, it’s adorable. 3/4? Fics I’m planning to post today!

Warnings: none :)

Wc: 695

Divider by @pommecita

“Andddd cut!” The director calls out as you let out a sigh of relief, stretching your body as a loud groan escapes your lips. After an exhausting day of non stop filming of your solo scenes, all you felt doing was crashing into the comfort of your bed in your trailer and face time your boyfriend Tom.

As you pack up your things that your brought along with you, Stacey, your assistant, comes up to you. “You have a few visitors,” She says in a sing song voice as you immediately furrow your eyebrows.

“Really?” You say as she hums. You sling your tote bag over your shoulder and follow her as you put your hair into a hair clip. From afar, you could see two guys, one with familiar hair.

You immediately smile knowing who it was as you hurriedly walk to them, a bounce in your step. You open your arms as you squeal seeing the two of them. “Hey sweetheart,” Tom says as you engulf the two in a tight hug.

You wrap your arms around Tom and Josh’s body as the wrap theirs around your frame, both of them rubbing your back knowing how much you love it when people do that.

Although you saw Josh practically everyday because you two were the main characters to the movie you were filming, you were still so happy to see him after a day of not hearing his jokes.

And of course, you were beyond happy seeing Tom again. The last time you saw him in person was 2 weeks ago when he came down to set to visit. Although you were absolutely tired and wished nothing but to shower and lay in bed, seeing your boyfriend and best friend was even better.

You rock the two side to side as you all laugh. As you pull back, you hear a feminine voice call out. “Y/n!” The boys look back as you look in between them. Your eyes lit up, “Rachel!” You squeal as you both run to each other. You had not seen Rachel in the longest time, probably 2 months after the world promo tour came to an end for tbosas.

“She looks happier to see her than us, huh?” Josh jokes as Tom laughs, digging his hands in his pockets as he watches the two of you embrace in a hug, nearly falling over in the process as Josh snaps a few photos of the two of you.

~

You walked hand in hand with Tom to your trailer, Josh and Rachel behind the two of you. “I’m going to shower, I’ll be back,” You announced as you kiss Tom’s lips before disappearing in your bathroom. The hot water immediately relaxed your bones as you let out a light moan at the feeling.

You came out in your silk pyjamas as it was slowly turning dark outside. The four of you chilled in your trailer, catching up with things before Rachel and Josh decide to go back to his trailer for the night.

“I’ve missed you,” A slight pout makes it your lips as you go on your tippy toes, hooking your arms around Tom’s neck as he breathes your scent that he missed in. “I know, I missed you too,” He mumbles in your hair.

You sit on your boyfriend’s lap as the two of you go through your camera roll from past month or so since you started filming the new movie with Josh.

You tell him the stories behind the pictures as he would watch you intently, a smile on his lips at the sight of you so engrossed in it. “Oh and this one, I was sneezing so much that my eyes were becoming watery so the director decided to start filming the sad scenes,” You laugh as you recall the daisies that Josh would present to you made you highly allergic.

Tom smiles at you lovingly, thinking how lucky he was to have you. “What?” You shyly smile, feeling his stare. “Nothing, you’re just so adorable,” He admits, pulling you to his chest as you let out a small giggle as he kisses your forehead.

[angelsdxmise]

METANOIA

Pt. 2 to ORPHIC

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 when Bakugou is paired with a girl that’s not spared a glance for a project, he wants to explode. Why does his mind keep going blank when he looks at you then?

Contains: tiny bit of angst, readers a little hopeless, imagine the rest urself, there might be profanity idk i dont remember

a/n: 2.7k words 😔 plz consider reblogging and sending requests! btw pls remember italics mean reader is thinking. enjoy the fic ❤️

Your dorm room matched your personality somehow, and then again, it didn’t. 

It had posters, a TV, and a bookshelf filled with figures from your favorite mangas, decorative sculptures everywhere, and classic LEDs. Your room seemed to also have a main color, which was black. Though it managed to maintain some color. 

Thank the gods you had cleaned your room when you finished eating, because if you hadn’t it would’ve been very much flammable. You usually wouldn’t be worried about it, but since someone who has quite a destructive quirk turned up to your dorm demanding to be let in, you felt relieved.

A low, calming rhythm played on your speaker as you reviewed your slides. An herbal incense flooded your senses as you relaxed. You were so calm that you almost forgot Bakugou was next to you.

“Hey, I think you forgot to add my quirk’s drawbacks.” You flatly spoke. You never looked away from your laptop as your brows furrowed in utter concentration. You moved your hair out your face, slightly fanning yourself as you breathed out short huffs. You closed your balcony doors and turned your fan off to have your incense earlier, which you may have regretted.

Bakugou held back a long groan as he added another slide. “Tell me what they are.” He grumbled in a stale tone. He wanted to plug his nose and ears since he wasn’t used to such a strong smell. While you explained your quirk drawbacks and the reason for them, he cut you off in the middle of the sentence to ask,

“Is that a Rob Zombie poster?” 

Your head perked up in acknowledgment as you lost focus due to your zeal. Does he like Rob Zombie? Am I dreaming right now? “Uh, yeah.. do you--do you not like him?” You stammered out. A pang of shame ran through you, he was just a boy with a bad temper. There’s no point in being so scared.

“Why else would I be asking about it?!” He yelled, which put a beaming smile on your face. “Sorry! You don’t—I mean, you just surprised me!” You quickly explained, “I can play some of his songs, or you could just put your own playlist on my speaker.”

You took his phone and connected it to the speaker which temporarily paused your music, and handed it back to him which he aggressively snatched. Once he finally picked a playlist after scrolling endlessly, you actually ended up having similar music tastes. “I never took you for someone who liked a lot of rock bands, but for some reason, I’m not that surprised.” You played with the bracelets on your wrists as you admitted the last part of your sentence.

Bakugou took note of this and took his fingers off his keyboard. “You’ve learned something new then.” He shut his laptop and put his study supplies in the bag. Your voice made him pause for a moment. “Could you uh, send me the playlist? You don’t have to, I just like your taste.” 

He set his bag down and looked at you. “Give me your phone number.” He abruptly said, taking you off guard. “Huh?!” 

“I need your number to send the link, dumbass!” He snatched your phone out of your hands and made a new contact of himself. He didn’t even bother giving it a name. He kept muttering words you couldn’t make out, so you felt a little scared. When he stood, you quickly called out a thank you which he acknowledged with a small wave before closing your door.

At the sound of your door closing, you just sat there processing what happened. A smile didn’t leave your face and you didn’t feel any shame to force it to go away. Days like this were unusual for someone like you. Being on good terms with the most hot-headed student at UA. It’s best to say you had a peaceful sleep that night.

For once you had hope for your school life. Maybe you could save your social life a little. But, of course, your desires seem impossible to reach once you return to class. 

Your head rested against your desk as one of your hands reached down to pull your tights down, then came back up to cover your ear. It seems today was a cheerful day for the others as you overheard many of them talking about how their project would get full scores for how lucky they were with their partners.

Then, there were the booming voices of annoying teenage boys. Especially Mineta. You felt like you should start wearing pants to school in fear of him crawling under your desk and violating you in every way possible. Is this what Hell is like? Am I in the deepest circle?

Thankfully the class had quieted down immediately when Aizawa burst through the Class 1-A doors that were ginormous for some apparent reason. His voice made your head lift up in a stalled manner, as you felt sluggish today. You had been skipping on your nightly skincare, so your eyebags were still a little noticeable. 

You set your head in your palm as you wrote what you could manage, but ended up dozing off near the last hours. Even with a good sleep, you still managed to be exhausted. It’s difficult to live. 

You and your mom had left your dad and moved to Musutafu. You had to take what you could get when you got accepted into U.A. Honestly, you felt envious of people such as Yaoyorozu and Aoyama. You never really bought from designer brands when times were rough, and your mother had to alternate jobs.

As school ends and you’re on your way back to the dorms, you decide to take a quick walk down to any convenience store you can find. You held onto the strap of your backpack as you walked into the closest one, your eyes scanning for some bento sets. 

Once your eyes had landed on them, you selected one and made sure you had enough money to spare after purchasing it. Usually, the cashier for this store was shitty and had an attitude for no reason. But of course, you didn’t know his life so you tried to not judge. 

Confusion took hold of your senses as you didn’t see any cashier there. Oh well. You placed half the amount the bento costs on the counter, not necessarily stealing it, but giving what you felt he deserved. You put the rest of your money in your backpack’s side pocket as you made your way back to your dorm. 

A long walk is an understatement. It felt like 10 years was what it took to walk up that hill, wiping your forehead constantly as short huffs came from your throat. You opened the door to the dorms and darted straight for the elevator. The cool air made you relax for a moment before a beep came, and your feet dragged you out.

You woke up as your eyes spotted a small pouch sitting in front of your door. What’s this?.. you mused for a minute before picking it up and opening the door, a sudden warmth hitting your skin as you reached for your fan. You shut the door behind you as you hurriedly sat on your bed to open it up.

You reached for a small note that was inside which read, “I don’t know how you handle that herbal shit, use this.” Oh, it came from Bakugou. Your hands found another item, a cylinder-shaped object that made your eyes brighten in excitement as you quickly pulled it out.

He got me incense! An expensive one at that, no way! You flipped the incense packaging around, which read ‘Kitowa’. 

You stood to turn your fan off and went to your nightstand to replace your current incense with the gifted one. Once your lighter’s flame had hit the tip of the incense stick, a light woody smell filled your room which made your body slump and release a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding.

I should send him a thanks, it’s the least I could do. You reached over for your phone and opened his contact. You quickly typed out a ‘thank you for the incense Bakugou! It smells really nice.’ and stared at your message for a moment. You were pondering over your own message, and also making the realization that you were nervous.

You were genuinely nervous and giddy at the same time to send this text. You got over it anyway and made haste to throw your phone across the bed before kicking your shoes off and face-planting into your pillow. You didn’t make an effort to change as you succumbed to the exhaustion.

A loud knock woke you up, your eyes didn’t open as you sat up, trying to process what was going on. Another loud knock sounds and your eyes shoot open. What the hell? “Coming!” you groan out as you stand from your bed. Stumbling over your shoes and bag you reach your door, opening the handle. You’re met with the face of Bakugou. Okay, I’m definitely awake now..

“Change your clothes. There’s dinner downstairs and you haven’t come down at all.” His jagged voice interrupted your thoughts. “Wait—whaaa?..” You muttered, rubbing your eyes. “Hurry up.” He grabs the handle and closes your door.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the fattest grin on your face after he closed your door. You dug through your clothes, throwing on a pair of black sweatpants and a misfits band shirt. You grabbed your phone and stopped for a moment as you looked at the notification.

***: it's no problem 4:03 P.M.

***: where the hell are you? dinners been ready for 10 minutes come down 6:47 P.M.

He ended up coming to your dorm 5 minutes after he sent the last message. You put some socks on before opening your door up again, and you tried to swallow down the lump in your throat as you saw Bakugou with his back leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed.

His signature frown was still plastered across his face as his eyes set on you. “Move your feet faster, extra.” He rasped out, already heading for the elevator, you quickly followed behind and attempted to make an effort to hide the shock on your face.

He somewhat punched the common room button, and you flinched when he did.

He pressed the button to close the doors more gently.

The ride down was a bit awkward, but you found comfort in the silence. Once the doors had opened, you walked out behind him. He grabbed your wrist suddenly and leisurely pulled you to his side as he kept walking, never letting go until you made it to the kitchen.

A few classmates noticed and pointed it out to the rest, as you lightly scratched the back of your neck in embarrassment. I guess I’d be staring too if I saw someone with such a bad temper hanging around me. you thought as you grabbed a bowl. “Get me one too.” Bakugou insisted, and you stopped for a second. Reaching your other hand up, you said, “You haven’t eaten yet?” as you grabbed the second bowl and set it down. 

“I’m just grabbing seconds,” He began to fill his bowl as he glanced at you. “Everyone’s already eaten. The losers are gonna do a movie night.” Your eyes lost their light at the sound of that. Of course, nobody told you. You drowned in your own dismal as you filled up your bowl with food. The smell made you feel slightly better, but it was nowhere near happy.

Once you were done, you turned to Bakugou. “Thanks for bringing me down, I’m just gonna head back upstairs.” You spoke in a brittle voice, and before you could reach the elevator you heard his footsteps coming from behind you. You could tell he made an effort to catch up.

He didn’t turn his eyes to you or offer an explanation after he pressed his floor's button, and didn’t allow you to go to yours. You frowned, “What’re you doing?” He finally looks at you. “Back to my dorm.”

whaa.. HUH?

“Wait—what?” You couldn’t process his sudden words as he took your wrist once more in his free hand, dragging you along with him to his dorm. He opened his door and ushered you to the bed before closing it.

You reluctantly sat down, as it was the second and only time you’d been in his dorm for any purpose other than school. He sighed as he sat down with his back against the bed frame, and pulled his laptop out from his bag.

“If you don’t sit next to me, you’re not gonna be able to watch the movie, you idiot.” His words made your ears blaze with heat and you carefully scooted next to him, making sure not to spill any food. “Got anything you wanna watch?” He asked as he took a bite of the hotpot.

“Hmm.,” Your eyes drifted to the side as you thought, “What about The Florida Project?” You suggested, “It’s not on Netflix, we’d probably have to find a random website to watch it.” 

He smiled faintly, he’s seen that before and so have you. “I’m fine with that.” His tone was softer as he clicked away to find a website to watch the movie. As he pressed play you scooted a tiny bit closer to watch it.

Midway through the movie you both finished your bowls and made slight comments on every scene, and he evilly laughed at most of the sad scenes while you scolded him for it.

As the movie reached the end, you had been leaning against him with your head on his shoulder. He had one hand behind his head and the other resting against his thigh. You nearly cried.

As the movie finished, you fell asleep against him. He abandoned the movie a while ago, but not on purpose. He took a little time to think about you since you’d been running around his mind without consent anyway.

Not only were you pretty, but your personality seemed to be a calming point for him. You, yourself, seemed to tell him to chill. You liked similar things, and you introduced him to incense which he secretly had on his shelf, above his bed. He had also ended up putting in orders for a few new posters after seeing your room.

He took the chance of your sleeping state to quietly shut off his laptop and hesitantly reached his hand around your body to rest it on your hip. He rested his head against yours as he rubbed small circles on your skin.

You shifted a little and his heart jumped, not wanting you to think he was some sort of pervert. Bakugou was slightly sure that his classmates were asleep, so he decided to carry you back to your dorm.

You awoke the next morning in your bed, sluggishly rising up and stretching as your joints popped. 4:32 read the time, and you definitely couldn’t go back to sleep now. You decided to take the extra time and get ready for school.

You smoothed out your skirt as you took your seat, and this time you didn’t rest your head in your palm. You felt like you finally rested your body. Your eyes darted up as you heard a thud in front of you. It was.. Bakugou?

He crashed into the seat in front of you, putting his elbows on your desk and turning his body to you. “Let’s uh.. study at that new cafe that opened up.” He looked away as he huffed the words out, suddenly interested in the outside world.

Is he asking me on a date or something? “Oh.. I mean,” His heart dropped and his brows furrowed as you started to talk. He had doubts about you saying no, and it seemed they were coming true.

“Sure.. I was gonna ask you, actually.” You giggled, setting your hands on the desk as you tapped your nail occasionally against it. He turned back to you, and he had a genuine smile plastered across his face as he didn’t leave this time immediately. He stayed, and he talked with you.

And he would do it many, many more times.

pls do not post anywhere w/out permission

[2chopsticks2eyes]

Don't Play Dumb

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Han Jisung/Han x Fem Reader

Themes: Shameless smut

Word Count: ~3.3k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Alcohol, Cussing, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Vaginal Sex

Summary: Minho and Jisung were living their best lives to their gayest potential. Well, at least that's what they thought before you moved in next door...

Author’s Note: This story was inspired by a request from my girl @lyramundana. I had to physically restrain myself from making this, like, 20 pages more than it is just because I told myself this was only going to be a short one-shot to put out there while I write my main stories. 😅

__________________________________________

Jisung always knew he was gay, he was vibing too much babygirl energy to be otherwise. Minho always knew he wasn't attracted to really anyone, however, he always had a thing for a nice set of pecs and a nice, perky ass. That is until he met Jisung and realized his 100% attraction towards the man. And the biggest plus was Jisung had a really nice ass AND pecs. Like. DAMN.

But I digress. Neither believed in love at first sight until they first locked eyes on each other. 

That was YEARS ago, and they were still as in love (if not more) as they were before.

But then one hot summer day, you moved into the flat straight across from theirs.

The two were just coming home from a romantic brunch and were already a couple of horny dogs before noon even hit. However, when they saw you struggling to move in by yourself, all it took was one look at each other and they immediately rushed over to help you despite your ramblings that you could do it yourself and weren't some damsel in distress.

They respected that, but still insisted on helping if not to speed up the process so you wouldn't turn into ashes in the summer heat and, if you were being honest with yourself, it sounded particularly preferable. So after brief introductions, the three of you set to work.

So, after these two Greek gods of men finished helping you move everything up, all of you were drenched in sweat from head to toe.

"I'd offer you something to drink, but I think I only have tap water..." You explained meekly, trying not to focus too hard on each drop of sweat that ran down their tanned skin.

They were in a similar situation.

They had watched you lift those heavy boxes like they weighed nothing and they soon found out that you were more than capable to do this yourself. But with the sun blazing and heavy lifting up two flights of stairs, they couldn't help but notice your... attributes.

You had worn just a thin tank top and some breezy shorts due to the weather, and the more sweaty you got, the more they clung to you, and the more the boys couldn't help but have their eyes wander.

They giggled and reject your offer. "Do you want to come and have a drink at our place instead?" Jisung offered sweetly.

"No no no! It's totally fine! I have to start unpacking anyway and, besides, you two have helped me out plenty today..." They couldn't help but notice the blush blooming on your cheeks as you looked down with a small smile, biting your lip to contain your shyness.

Minho wanted to coo at you for being so damned cute, but he was afraid that it would make you uncomfortable, so he refrained. 

Once Minho and Jisung returned to their own flat, Jisung turned to Minho. "Okay hyung, I know this is going to sound super weird, but was she not absolutely drop-dead gorgeous or what?!" 

"Holy shit, I know right?! Am glad I'm not the only one who noticed!" 

"Like, shit, I'd fuck her stupid if I wasn't the gayest bottom bitch there is out there!" They laughed heartily and Minho playfully swat his arm with a loud cackle.

This was why they loved each other so much, they could be completely open and honest with each other and they knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they’d still live and die for each other.

"Speaking of bottom bitch, I believe we had some plans once we returned home if I'm not mistaken?" Minho gave Jisung a wry smile as he moved closer to place a sweet kiss on the edge of the younger man’s jaw, instantly reminding Jisung how stupidly horny he was.

Instead of answering, Jisung just decided to strip naked and get on all fours for the man right in the middle of their fucking living room carpet.

Weeks went by and, what started as simple greetings as you occasionally passed them coming and going, turned into the three of you spending time at each other's places every week for the designated 'movies and margaritas' nights.

"Okayokayokay, Ji! Truth or dare?" You questioned the round-faced man. After your third round of drinks, you all had foregone your attention to the movie on the screen in favor of playing the classic game for drunks.

"Truth..."

"Don't be such a pussy, Sungie!" Minho complained loudly.

Jisung shoved his face in front of the elder’s line of sight in retaliation. "Get over it! My answer remains the same!"

You giggled wildly even though the situation was not nearly as funny as you thought it was, but they had endeared expressions on their faces as they looked at you cackling like an idiot.

"Okay *ahem* Ji. Have you ever topped Minho?" You knew the question was pretty bold, but you had quickly become extremely familiar with these men. Besides, neither reacted poorly to the personal question.

"Sweetheart, hyung and I have been together for AGES. Do you seriously think we haven't already tried everything in the slutty book?"

"They have one of those?" You asked while giggling into your drink.

"Yeah, we wrote it," Minho smirked and winked at you while you cackled.

"Well, at least now I know that Ji knows how to fuck." You taunted said man with a wicked smile. 

"Oh, I can do a lot more than fucking, sweetheart," Jisung said in a sultry tone with a wink thrown at you. This was a common occurrence between you three, they would flirt with you while your heart was being suffocated knowing they were gay.

You visibly shivered with a blush and Minho narrowed his eyes, taking a mental note of it. "Okay, little miss dirty mind, your turn. Truth or dare." You could already see Minho brewing up a storm in his head, but you were never one to back down from a challenge.

"Dare. Hit me with your best shot, pussy cat." You said with a challenging grin on your face.

"Oh no. You shouldn't have said that. Minho's the devil incarnate. He'll seriously fuck you up." 

Minho answered his boyfriend with an amused hum. "Hmm, let's see..." He made a show about thinking about what he wanted to say as if he didn't already know. "I dare you..." Both you and Jisung waited with bated breath for the hell that was about to be unleashed. "...to french kiss both me and Sungie."

"WHAT?!" Both you and Jisung exclaimed in tandem.

"You heard me, bitches. You have to kiss these gay boy lips like you mean it, now pay up!"

Jisung breathed out a disbelieving laugh as his slack jaw hinted at a shocked smile. He turned to you to gauge your reaction, only to see that you had completely frozen in place. Their smiles instantly dropped. "Aw shit, I'm sorry, love. I was just teasing. If that makes you uncomfortable I can--" 

"No!!" You shouted, covering your mouth immediately afterward. "N-no! A dare's a dare! I'm no pussy..." At least that's what you told yourself.

Internally, your heart was racing at a thousand miles a minute as you scooched closer to Jisung. You took a deep breath and cupped his cheeks, watching his beautiful eyes go wide and his moist, plush lips part. Before you could doubt yourself any further, you dove in and planted your lips on his.

You had instantly melted as Jisung tentatively placed his hands on your waist and you furthered the instructed 'french kiss' by tangling tongues with him.

After a moment, without waiting to check their reactions, you pulled away and lunged at Minho to do the same, drinking in the taste of the alcohol on his lips. When you felt his strong hands smooth over your shirt and around to your back you slightly whimpered.

You flew back while covering your mouth and saw their wide eyes and dumbfounded looks on their faces. "Oh-oh, my god!" You scrambled to stand up. "Shit guys, I'm so sorry. I..." You couldn't stay with the humiliation any longer and, without another word, you fled from the apartment.

Jisung and Minho looked at each other with equally shocked expressions. "Are you as turned on right now as I am?" Jisung said breathily. And Minho just dumbly nodded. "Do you think she would... or would you be down for...?" There was an unspoken question there, but his soulmate already knew.

"Fuck yes." Minho threw himself on his boyfriend like a hungry wolf and proceeded to fuck him over the back of the couch until he came with a cry on his lips.

Okay... they were definitely, infinitesimally homosexual but... they never met someone like you…

Maybe they had some talking to do.

When they knocked on your door unannounced the following evening, you were shocked to say the least. "Minho? Jisung? What are you--?"

“Can we come in?” Jisung cut to the chase rather quickly and you could see the determination in his eyes. You nodded shyly, still not able to get over the fact that you made an ass of yourself the night prior.

As soon as they came in, they bracketed you and you looked up at them like a frightened animal. “G-guys… I-I’m sorry about yesterday… I didn’t mean to and we had a lot to drink and–”

“Do you like us?” Minho cut in this time and you sealed your lips. You felt a shiver run down your spine and, even though you were sure he meant it in a different way, you answered respectfully.

“O-of course I like you guys! We’re friends!” You sounded shocked that they even had to ask.

“No…” Jisung brazenly stepped closer and swept your hair over your shoulder to speak low into your ear. “Do you like like us?”

Minho moved closer on your other side as well, however, he bent down to eye level with you “Don’t play dumb baby girl. Do you have dirty little thoughts about me and Jisungie? Hm?” He tilted his head and you looked like a deer caught in the headlights as they both stared you down. “Do you imagine what it would be like having two men fuck you stupid? Is that why you asked Sungie that question?”

You didn’t know whether to tell the truth or lie out your ass but, eventually, you could only reply with a shy nod directed at your own bare feet, not trusting your mouth to be able to form words.

With your shameful face still directed towards the ground, you peeked up at their expressions. Your eyes widened when you saw identical Cheshire grins on each of their faces. “Well then, I think we should assist her with that. Don’t you think, hyung?”

“I agree wholeheartedly Sungie.”

You whipped your head up and stepped back a hair. “Woah woah woah! No need to stoop to that level, guys!  I’m sure I’ll get over it eventually!”

“Well, you see sweetheart, we've been thinking an awful lot about this. Hyung and I are in it for life, but with you…” Jisung said as he stepped an inch closer to you. “You’ve got us questioning what it would be like with a woman.” He gently trailed a finger down your arm, inducing goosebumps that they could blatantly see.

“We want to know what it’s like to make you fall apart. We want to see how to make you scream. Make you beg.” Minho trailed his gaze languidly over your body with each word and you felt like you were being crushed with all the tension in the air.

You involuntarily gasped when you felt Jisung’s soft lips press against your cheek. Soon enough, he was whispering in your ear. “That blush on your cheeks is really pretty, should I deepen it?” You felt the wet heat of his tongue press up against the tender skin under your ear and you quietly whimpered.

“It sounds like you are more than willing to experiment with us, honey. Tell us, baby. Do you want to play with us?” Minho wrapped an arm around your waist and began kissing your neck to drive his intentions forward. Also to inform you that “playing” didn’t mean you’re going to play fucking Jenga or some shit.

Instead of using words, you let your hands do the talking. You tentatively grasped their wrists and slowly led them further into the apartment. You made your answer clear enough when you brought them to your bedroom and turned around to silently face them at the foot of your bed.

Your eyes were glued to the floor and Minho cooed at you. When you looked up, the two gorgeous men were looming over you with hungry eyes. Unable to look directly into their intimidating eyes, you stared at your feet while saying, “I usually use the traffic light system…” You peeked up at them to make sure they understood. “I-is that alright for you guys?”

“Fuck yes…” Jisung said with an airy tone and stepped closer to grab the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off, sweetheart?” Instead of answering, you removed said item and chucked it across the room, face getting hotter by the second.

“You guys can do whatever you want… I trust you…” You bit your lip but made sure to look them in the eyes as you said this. You wanted to make sure they knew you wanted this.

“You might be regretting saying that later, baby girl.” Minho groaned in a wicked tone.

Before you could prepare yourself, Minho had moved around behind you to hold your arms in place while Jisung stepped in front of you, slowly gliding his fingers over your exposed skin. “Shit, she’s gorgeous. Isn’t she hyung?”

Minho hummed low in his throat and then you suddenly felt his warm tongue glide up the side of your neck. “Tasty too.”

You didn’t know why, but the fact that they were talking about you like you weren’t even there turned you on even more. “Hmmm, where should I start?” Jisung rhetorically asked as he examined your body. Your breathing picked up when you felt his soft hands move up to slide one of your bra straps down. “Here?” You whimpered as his fingers glided over your nipple through the thin fabric.

You heard a chuckle come from beside your head where Minho had begun lazily kissing your neck and shoulder. “I think you have your answer, jagi. Go on, show us what a bottom bitch can do.”

Jisung bit his lip and gasped at his boyfriend’s provocative words, but when he looked back at you, he looked absolutely sinful. “Of course, hyung…” 

Jisung was an enigma. He was both equal parts submissive and domineering while Minho was a born and bred master. Created to have both you and Jisung on your knees for him with little to no effort.

They ravaged you properly. They kiss, licked, and sucked on almost every inch of your body except where you were aching the most for them. However, kissing them was almost just as good because those boys had an amazing set of lips on them.

When you all eventually stripped with an insane amount of teasing from them, Minho sat up against the headboard while you faced him on all fours, Jisung just behind you looking at your dripping cunt in awe.

Minho leaned forward to kiss you once more before leaning back and holding his oozing cock in place. “Suck.” He commanded, and you complied eagerly. As you took him in, you heard a low groan in his chest. “Sungie. Show me what you can do to her, yeah? Make her scream on my cock.” Minho said with labored breaths.

You weren’t able to see him, but you felt chills wrack your body when you felt the man behind you blow his hot air on your folds. You whimpered but continued on your mission to suck the life out of the man in front of you. You felt gentle fingers glide through your hair and felt Minho slowly begin to guide your head to bob on his dick.

You had to stifle a moan when you felt Jisung drag his tongue over the entire length of your pussy and then heard the smacking of his lips. “Wow, that’s a lot better than I imagined.” You squeaked when you felt a finger plunge inside you, pumping a few times before pulling it out and holding it up to Minho’s lips. “Hyung, taste her.”

You looked up at him from an awkward angle, not allowing your mouth to release him for a single moment. You whined when you watched his tongue slide over the digit before sucking it into his mouth. “Hmmm such a pretty and tasty girl, aren’t you?” 

You felt his hips slightly buck up but you refrained from gagging, instead, doubling your efforts. It was right as he let his head fall back against the headboard that you felt more fingers enter you, thrusting and moving in you at an unforgiving pace until you came violently and unexpectedly. 

When you pulled off of Minho’s cock to cry out your ecstasy, they watched you wide-eyed and hungry before you desperately fumbled for the bedside drawer to pull out a couple of condoms. “P-please fuck me… I need you inside me, Ji.”

Both of the men muttered expletives before you wrapped your mouth around Minho again and Jisung hastily opened the condom wrapper. You saw stars when you finally felt him enter you. “F-fuck, hyung…” Jisung whined as he bent over you to kiss him. “She’s so tight…”

“Fuck her real good, jagi. Open her wide for me.”

And without further ado, Jisung did just that. He grasped your hips and roughly slammed his cock inside you until he was whimpering with every breath. When he had fucked you long and proper, you came once again and Jisung was at his breaking point. “F-fuck… can I cum on you, sweet thing?” Jisung asked while smoothing his hand over your dewy back.

You released Minho’s dick, although he was also close, and you replied. “Fuck you guys can cum anywhere you like if you can fuck me this well.”

With an airy chuckle, Minho flipped you over onto your back and hovered over you. He and Jisung had traded spots so now Minho had on a condom, poised at your soaked entrance, while Jisung stood next to the bed with his now bare cock aimed at your face.

They didn’t pause for a single moment, Minho ramming you full force, devouring your neck as you quickly pumped Jisung’s cock in time with his boyfriend's thrusts next to you. It almost felt like fate when all three of you came in tandem and you held your mouth open to catch every drop of seed that Jisung had to offer you. 

Then, as if all the life was drained from the room, you all collapsed.

You all laid there in the mess for a moment to catch your breaths before they made a move. They were proper gentlemen, cleaning you and handling you with care as they tucked you in bed. “Guys?” They smiled at you with their full attention. 

“What is it, beautiful?” Jisung as he laced his fingers with yours.

“I know we need to talk and all, but can you guys just stay tonight and talk later?” You looked at them with pleading eyes and they smiled in adoration before plunging under the covers on each side of you. 

Yeah, Jisung and Minho knew they were gay, but after that day, they could confidently say they weren’t opposed to the opportunity when it was you they were considering…

__________________________________________

If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! This is why it takes me so long to write my stories! I always want to make it into a fucking full-length book! Let me know how you liked it!

Please like, follow, and share! Thanks baby stays! 😘

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Seams Masterlist

Explicit 🔞 NO minors allowed

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Series tags: loose-fit mini series | self-conscious!Joel | shy!seamstress!Reader | 👏🏻 body positivity 👏🏾 | sexual tension | slow burn | no physical descriptions of Reader

Part 1: Seams

Joel has a problem. Having settled into some semblance of a 'normal' life in Jackson that no longer involves running for his life and living off scraps, his clothes are getting a little… tight. Self-conscious, he deals with it the way he does most things - he ignores it.

That is until one day, the zipper on his jeans finally gives up after one too many desperate tugs, leaving him stuck. With neither Tommy nor Ellie anywhere to be found to get him out of the tight spot, Joel begrudgingly heads to the clothing store he’s seen in town for help - and a new pair of jeans.

There, he meets you.

Part 2: Threads

When Joel revisits Main Street Outfitters two weeks later, he finds you on your knees. Again.

Part 3: Edgestitch

You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Part 4: Notch

While Ellie works her first shift at the Outfitters, Joel drops by yours to return the blouse you left behind at the baby shower. Turns out, there's plenty around the house to keep him occupied until the teenager clocks off.

Part 5: Raw Edge

One lazy afternoon, Joel tests your patience.

Drabbles/Oneshots

Patch: Ellie finds a Pride-themed sew on patch that leads to revelations.

Hallow'seams, Halloween special: Joel proves to you that he can be adventurous if he wants to be.

Ravel, Christmas special | moodboard: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Voicemail: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Requests for Seams sleepover

Where Else: You wake up self-conscious on your first morning with Joel.

Rookie Mistake: Tommy walks in on you and Joel at the Halloween party - follow-up to Hallow'seams.

Buttons: When Joel's shirt loses one too many buttons, he goes to you for help.

Double Denim: Joel goes clothes shopping, for you.

Buck: Joel can't sleep, no thanks to you.

Seams x Grays crossover

Denim on Denim (set before Seams): Joel tries to get a haircut - but it turns out he can’t do anything in the QZ without getting into a fistfight, and you’re lucky enough to be in the audience. [from POV of Grays!Reader, Shiv]

Behind the Seams

For each chapter, I will post a behind-the-scenes peek into my creative process. Other posts and asks that touch on the creative process or inspire the series will be tagged behind the seams for easy access. I am also tagging each chapter with specific tags to make relevant posts easier to find e.g. seams iii.

Edgestitch | Notch | Raw Edge

Sneak peeks

two | three | four

Art

Commission of Part 1 by the incredible @mjpens

Visuals

Asks about Joel's clothes: white undervest, jeans, denim shirt

Moodboard by darling Sil @psychedelic-ink

MAIN MASTERLIST

[jen-with-a-pen]

Dancing in the Kitchen

summary: After the worst night imaginable, your best friend helps you when you need him most. What you don't realize is just how much you've always needed him. or: Tony Dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together.

parings: protective!best friend!Steve Rogers x best friend!f!Reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: fluff, angst, self-doubt and insecurity, verbally abusive relationship elements, insults + language/name calling, reader cusses and so does Steve bc he can, no smut!, wearing Steve's clothes (very little to no description about reader's body so do with that what you will), intense feelings, confessions, crying, anxiety, best friends to lovers, intimate touch, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, protectiveness, not Tony Stark friendly, cap quartet mention

a/n: these characters are out of college! It's set in their early-mid 20s following graduating and I thought it'd be a little more relatable (also since I'm not in college anymore I wanted this specific fic concept to be more relatable. self-indulgence and stuff). the cap quartet rent a house together. there might be more shenanigans in the future involving them. maybe. who knows? enjoy <3

If I've missed any tags, please let me know!

gif by @annislittleshopofhorrors | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Everything was cold. 

Everything was ruined.

Everything was a fucking nightmare.

Dark clouds shrouded the night sky, hiding helpful moonlight. Rain pelted at you from above, mixing with fresh tears, drenching you to the bone as cold water collected on your skin and soaked through your dress. Your hands morphed into balled fists at your sides as you shook with rage, heartbreak, and the innate need to punch something.

You couldn’t wrap your pounding head around the events of the night; everything blurred together after ten o’clock. It was like a cruel joke, one where you waited an eternity for the punchline, begging for it not to be real no matter how hard you screwed your eyes shut and prayed. 

You didn’t want to believe it, yet there you were.

It sure as hell wasn’t the first time you found yourself standing at the backdoor of Steve Roger’s house on the cusp of a breakdown– and a breakup– warring with your own body to simply knock on the fucking door. Hell, Steve was already expecting you. He knew something was wrong the second you called; there wasn’t a warning text, just you, asking in a choked-up whisper if he was home. His response spilled out in a rushed ‘yes’ before you could explain further. A ‘no questions asked’ request, something not uncommon in your friendship. Steve, since day one, was one of your main sources of comfort within a thousand mile radius. 

Now, he was your only source of comfort within a thousand mile radius. 

Remnants of the phone call from Tony only minutes earlier echoed in your eardrums like a bad case of tinnitus. Annoying, repetitive. His hoarse, drunken slurry of vicious words clawed at the inside of your skull. Another fight. Another screaming match. Another forgotten birthday– this time, it included meeting your family. You’d planned it for months prior, making sure Tony knew not to forget it.

Your insides were twisting in knots as you waited at the restaurant awkwardly with your parents, brother, and an empty seat next to you. After an hour, eight failed calls and fifteen texts later, Tony finally picked up. Delight revived the few butterflies left in your stomach, only to be crushed, turning them into weighted dread as loud club music obliterated your ear drum as he shouted at you. 

“You bitch!” he spat. “Why the ever-loving f-fuck are y’blowin’ up my phone for?!”

You didn’t have time to process what he was saying before he’d already reloaded and shot you with more.

“What the hell is sooooo important? Huh? Y-you stupid bitch! You fuckin’ knew I’m busy t’night!”

You tore the phone away. Even at arm’s length, you, and the rest of your family, could hear every single thing he spewed at you. A couple from the table next to yours stopped mid-bite to turn and throw rude looks at you and your family.

“Tony, please, I–” 

“‘Tony please’– just shut up!” he mocked. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t fuckin’ care what you gotta– what you have t’say! I can’t f–fuckin’ stand you anymore!”

Hurt and hunger morphed into churning waves of anxiety and embarrassment. Your throat was closing. Tears began stinging your eyes. You looked between your parents in shame, meeting their stunned looks filled with pity and disappointment. Your brother refused to look anywhere but the spot on his plate where he played with his food, sadness and second-hand embarrassment plaguing his face.

Yelling, jeering, and chanting echoed out of your phone. Tony didn’t stop. 

“Y’know what? I’m not doin’ this anymore,” he slurred, gulping some unknown liquid down, swallowing, gagging. More cheering. “We– we’re fuckin’ done. You’re out. I’m done.”

The other line fumbled. You winced as you heard Tony wet his lips, preparing the final blow. His breathing became heavy, ragged, hard enough you could smell the liquor through the phone.

“Fuckin’ cunt.” 

Click.

You loathed yourself for tolerating him; the endless cycle of poisoning you, providing the antidote, and taking it away when it seemed to get better. The whiplash from his unpredictable moods and personal attacks on you hurt as bad as it felt when he’d come around with endless apologies– accompanied by flowers, cuddles, and kisses– to heal each wound he was responsible for. 

This time, though, the stab was fatal. This time, you bled out; it’d been akin to getting gutted and hung helplessly in front of your fucking family. 

A sob snuck its way up your throat. You choked it down, willing your fist to reach up and knock on the door. You didn’t understand why this was next to impossible. Steve was your best friend. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. It wasn’t like he’d chastise you or yell at you or tell you to fuck off. Yet, there was a fear, deep down, feeding on the anxiety and self-doubt in the pit of your stomach, telling you the opposite; it whispered to you, telling you to run back to your car, scream into the steering wheel, and speed off to disappear from everything and everyone for just a little longer. It’d only be until you got your head on straight, until you figured out what to do with the apartment and your classes and your stuff and–

Knock. knock. knock.

In the blur of a million thoughts racing through your mind, you automatically reached up and weakly knocked, body tensing every muscle as you waited.

The door swung open, revealing one extremely concerned Steve Rogers.

Steve panted, a result from sprinting down the stairs from his upstairs bedroom in an attempt to open the back door by your first knock. Acutely aware of his jaw hanging from its hinges, Steve’s soft baby blues bore into you, scanning you up and down, stunned at you and your dress and how desperate you looked. 

Time stopped the second you saw him; it was difficult to describe, but everything magnetizing between the two of you was different. You felt different– different in the way he was familiar and somehow new at the same time. Steve felt different– different in the way you were single for the first time in two years and he was single since… forever ago.

This time was unlike the million other times.

You both stared. Your lips quivered, his parted in disbelief. Both your minds instantly went blank, unable to think of anything to say, to do. So, the sky thought for you. It opened its floodgates, releasing a torrential downpour as you stood inches from warmth, from comfort.

“Steve,” you croaked, reaching for him. 

It was then, everything came crashing down. 

You crumbled to the ground in a heap, knees buckling while your hand and arms braced for impact with the ground. Steve quickly abandoned his tight grip on the doorframe, catching you, helping you inside. Lungs gasped for air as heavy sobs poured from your chest and tears flowed steadily down your face. You pawed at Steve’s arm hooked around you as he stumbled back into the house, kicking the door closed and collapsing onto the kitchen floor with you in tow. He immediately pulled you closer and hugged you tightly against his chest. You heaved, crying out from the painful pit in your heart, digging your fingers into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. You buried your face into his t-shirt and bawled.

All of it– the rage, the hurt, the mess of balled-up emotions from the last two fucking years– came unraveled. Hands twisted into Steve’s t-shirt, balling the fabric and pulling it taut enough to rip. 

Steve didn’t shout. He didn’t complain. He didn’t utter a single word as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets, rocking you gently, squeezing you harder as his chest rose and fell rhythmically against your pounding skull, silently coaxing you to follow his breathing. Blubbering in his lap, stringing words together became futile as thoughts became unrecognizable. Another wave of panic and anxiety crashed over you. Steve’s mumbled shushes softened you; the deep timbre and honeyed bass of his voice and vibrations in his chest grounded you, welcoming you to safety. To home. 

“Shh… don’t worry, I got you. I have you. You’re okay,” he muttered, running a hand gently up and down your back.

“I–he–bu–” you fumbled, lip quivering as another sob overtook you. Rage clawed at the walls in the chasm of your chest. You screamed. Guttural, pained. Again. And again.

“Shh… it’s okay, let it out. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” he soothed, rocking you, adding in a lowered octave, “I’m here.”

“T–Tony,” you hiccuped, fists twisting more of Steve’s t-shirt. “He–he–”

“What, angel? What about Tony?” 

“He–he c–called me n–names a–and,” you shook your head violently, “he b-broke up with me. For real, this time.”

Steve cupped your cheek, softly wiping away fresh tears with calloused fingertips. While you continued to cry in his arms, his focus turned to the back door you tumbled through. Inside, he seethed; his rage nearly boiled over at the thought of anyone doing this to you, let alone Tony fucking Stark. Out of all the things you’d told him over the last couple years– all the threats, the cruel jokes and abandonment and insults– tonight was the ultimate cherry on top. It validated every time Tony’s actions made Steve think vengeful thoughts on what he’d do if he ever got five minutes with the douchebag. Just five minutes. Alone. 

He shook the thought away, looking back down to you. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him upset, let alone remotely think you were the cause of it. He’d promised himself that the first time you met.

Tony was going to fucking pay for what he’d done to you every single second for the last two years. And on your birthday, for chrissake. 

“What–” Steve swallowed the excess rage in his chest. “What kind of names, sweetie?”

You softened, sniffling, refusing to look at him. “He called me a b–bitch, a–and,” you bit your tongue, “a… cunt.”

The moment the word left your lips, Steve fought every last nerve in him not to put you to bed, get in his car, and go teach Tony a lesson on some fucking manners. Hell, even the idea of taking Bucky and Sam crossed his mind. 

He pushed the thought away, focusing back on you. You needed him. You came to him for help. No one else but him. 

Steve slid his hand off your back and placed it under your chin, thumb and forefinger gently coaxing you to look at him. Big blue eyes swam with concern and worry. In the dark of the kitchen, they seemed brighter than ever– a beacon guiding you back from the hurricane in your head.

In an instant, everything in your head went quiet. No more muffled echoes from the phone call. No more sobs readying to burst out your chest. No more caring about how swollen and puffy your eyes were, or the drying combination of mascara and tear stains running down your cheeks and neck. Your sopping wet dress that drenched the floor, and Steve, was pushed to the back of your brain, the cold no longer leaking into your bones as he brought you back down from the ledge.

All you saw was Steve. All you smelled, all you could feel, was Steve. 

Steve swallowed. His jaw slacked, tongue jutting out to wet his lips, slowly drinking you in for as long as he was able. 

And honestly? You couldn’t care enough to stop him. It’d been so long since someone looked at you the way Steve did.

Had he always looked at you like that?

“Listen to me. You are none of those things. Not even close,” he whispered, hoping you believed him. 

You nodded lightly. “I–I know, but it hurts,” your voice cracked again, eyes drifting away from him. 

“Hey, look at me,” he tugged at your chin, “you will never be anything like he says you are. Ever. Okay?”

You stared at him. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you placed a hand on his, taking it from your chin to your chest. Warmth bloomed as it rested against your damp skin. 

“‘Kay.” Barely a whisper. Enough for only him to hear.

He paused, gaze holding steady on you, lips twitching at the corners. 

“Let’s get you up ‘n out of that thing, yeah?” He nodded to your dress. “You gotta be freezing.”

Gently, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the kitchen floor and pulling you up on your feet. Your legs felt like a wobbly blend of jelly and nerves that forced you to lean onto Steve for support. He anticipated this, catching you and gripping your shoulders. You didn’t say a word. Instead, you clung to him as he guided you through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. You passed by Sam and Bucky’s rooms, both empty for the night, just like Natasha’s downstairs. 

As Steve rifled through his drawers and closet, your focus wandered to his messy desk: the lamp cast a soft, warm glow across the room, sitting next to history books and sketchbooks stacked high on top of one another; pencils and dirtied paint brushes littered the surface, products of his latest art assignment. His bed was half-made, dark green covers on one side neatly tucked in while the opposite was thrown aside, exposing gray pinstripe sheets. The walls were covered with scattered art– some his, others his favorite artists’– posters and pictures of family, friends, and some local bands. You bit back a smile. Memories of the shows you both went to over the last few years played like a highlight reel in your mind. You never regretted it; you never passed up a single invite, even after the time Tony locked you out for a whole weekend. 

“Here, these are clean,” he handed you a neatly folded pile of his clothes before adding, “I promise.”

A fuller smile broke across your face. The first of the entire night.

“Uh huh, sure, I believe you,” you joked sarcastically. He feigned hurt, scoffing at your false accusation.

“I did the sniff test, if that makes you feel any better.”

You giggled, taking the clothes from him and turning to head to the bathroom.

“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” he called after you. “You, um, you want something to drink?”

You paused, turning to look at him from the bathroom doorway halfway down the hall. From where he stood, the saturated pink creeping up his neck and reaching his face was more visible than the light on his desk. You couldn’t help but hold in a snicker and flash him a relieved smile, thankful.

“Coffee would be a godsend, right now.”

Steve smiled, saluting you. “Coming right up.”

You headed into the bathroom, tossing the clothes onto the counter, slumping against the door the second you shut and locked it. Finally relaxing, you realized how much tension was pent up in your tired shoulders– which, in turn, prompted the realization you were holding your breath the entire time in Steve’s room. 

Brushing the self-induced lightheadedness, you slipped the ruined dress off your body and hung it up on the shower rod. You hated the color, the texture, but wore it anyway. For Tony. On your birthday.

You cursed yourself, pulling your bra off next– a pushup that held your rib cage hostage the entire night. Just how Tony likes it. 

Or, liked it.

You silently prayed Steve included some Bailey’s in your coffee. 

Pulling on Steve’s sweatshirt, the scent of him enveloped you instantly. You couldn’t help but nuzzle into the neck of it, filling your lungs with the familiarity of Steve. He was a quiet, sunny Sunday morning and freshly brewed coffee. He was a nice night in watching your favorite movies and playing cards. 

Your head was swimming, swirling, caught up in the entirety of your best friend. He was yours just as much as you were his. Through Tony, through other guys you’d subjected yourself to the last few years, none of them compared to Steve. 

You tugged the sweatpants on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror and realizing the runny makeup staining your face. You snorted at how fucking ridiculous you looked, remembering the caked-on layers you’d put on for the evening. Again, just for Tony. The snort turned into a giggle, utterly grateful for Steve not making fun of how you looked and for ignoring the mascara stains on his poor t-shirt from earlier.

But, again, it was Steve. He’d never make fun of you. Ever.

Butterflies– the ones you’d thought were long gone months prior– stuttered suddenly, alive and fluttering in your stomach. 

You instantly recognized the feeling: it was the same you had the day you met Steve.

The same feeling you’d get on roller coasters, or reading an exceptionally good romance novel. Giddiness, dizziness. It was as if you were spinning while the room stood still. Your head felt light, high on helium. Your skin burned. Meeting your own gaze in the mirror, you scanned yourself, the question ‘is this happening right now?’ running on a loop at the forefront of your mind. 

Bzzt.

You jumped at the buzz of a text. With the trance broken, you took into account your shaking hands and the bumping tempo of your heart. Turning on the sink, you made sure the water was as cold as possible before cupping some in your hands and splashing your face. Refreshing. Needed. You rubbed the rest of the runny wakeup off your skin, stuffing your face into the fluffy hand towel and silently promising to get the boys a new one. Picking up your phone, teeth chewed on cheek to hold in your smile at the sight of Steve’s name on the screen.

⍟ Steve: You doing OK? Coffees ready 

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told your reflection. “He’s only your best friend.”

The butterflies continued to multiply, bumping against one another, fluttering and escaping out into your chest and your limbs. 

“Fuck.”

You opened the door. 

⋆˙ઇଓ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I was beginning to think you climbed out the window up there,” Steve quipped upon seeing you round the corner into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the stupid grin spreading across his face when he saw you in his clothes. You looked more relaxed, more comfortable.

More like you. 

You noticed he changed, too, donning a heather-gray t-shirt that clung to his torso in all the right ways– ways you hadn’t noticed before.

You mentally scolded yourself.

“A–Almost. But I’d never pass up a cup of world-famous Rogers Roast.”

“Wow, world-famous? I would’ve preferred universally-renowned, but I’ll take it.” He held a mug out to you, one faded with a ‘I ❤ New York’ logo– the one you’d gotten for him during your senior-year college internship. “Made it just how you like it.” 

He paused as you took a sip. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you, biting his lip in anticipation as you drank. The coffee tasted like liquid gold, warm and comforting and all-around delicious. You didn’t care if you burnt your tongue. This was what you needed. 

He was what you needed. 

Was he?

You looked back up at Steve. His cheeks flushed as he pressed his lips together, entranced with the mug in your hands, eyes ever-so-slightly flitting from it to your lips and back again. 

“Thank you, Stevie.” 

“You’re welcome, angel.”

You pinched yourself, then took another sip.

Silence fell, comfortable and calm, as you both nursed your drinks, checking your phones and letting time pass. You didn’t care to check the clock. 

Steve cleared his throat and set his phone down. 

“So, um,” he began. “What else did you have planned for your birthday?” 

His voice was low, tender, careful with the question so as not to upset you. He was curious, however, and determined to see exactly how much Tony fucked up your night.

And your life.

“Oh,” you swallowed, chewing your lip in an attempt to remember what you’d originally planned.

“He was, ah, gonna take me dancing. After dinner, after he,” you took an unsteady breath, “after he met my family. It was the one thing he told me he'd let me do after dinner.” You shook your head, adding under your breath, “besides him.”

Tension seeped into the space between you both. You didn’t want to meet Steve’s stare; it was the one you’d always see whenever you told him about Tony, one filled with anger so palpable it made his arms flex subconsciously, one he thought he hid well enough so you never saw, but you always did. Without looking up, you already knew his jaw was clenched and his shoulders were stiff and his eyes bored a hole into the wall behind you. Butterflies started to somersault, crashing into the waves of worry and anxiety. 

“Why?”

You looked up. Blue eyes. Stormy, swirling, stubborn.

“What?”

“Why did you stay with him?” Steve asked steadily, voice barely above a whisper. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

You paused. “Because he wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I could’ve helped you. We could’ve helped you,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the house.

Your teeth tore into your bottom lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I–” Steve sighed and carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, frustrated, trying to keep his promise while also appealing to you and balancing the fragile tightrope you two stood on. “I care about you, angel. I care about you so fuckin’ much. I just wanna know why. Why he was– why you were–”

“I–” Don’t fucking cry. “I was trapped. Every time I tried to leave, he’d tie me down more. It… it wasn’t as easy as you fucking think, Steve. Rose-colored glasses, wool over my eyes, wolf in sheep's clothing, that sorta thing, ya know? These last couple years, I… I don’t know why tonight was it, and I don’t know how I was able to get out, and I just… I don’t fucking know. I don’t. I–” 

You felt tears again. 

“I– Angel, I wasn’t trying to–”

“No, I know,” you cut him off, setting down your mug to rub your face in your hands. “I know. But I need you to understand that I– God, my fucking brain feels so scrambled. I just feel so confused, I feel like I’m going insane right now. Fuck!” 

You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths to feed your strained lungs, holding on to each before exhaling. In, hold, out, repeat. 

The room was spinning again, whirling around like a sick carnival ride as your center of gravity began to give.

As you braced the counter, strong hands and warm, muscular arms engulfed you, lifting you back from the countertop and guiding you into the middle of the kitchen. Steve pressed into you until you relented, reaching your arms around him and pulling him closer. The tension in your shoulders melted, migrating to your chest where your heart surged the moment he touched you, where it pounded against your sternum, threatening to break out of its marrow cage. You inhaled him, savoring him, feeling him all around you.

Slowly, delicately, Steve unwrapped from you. He was careful with every touch, as if he would shatter you– even though he had no problem with putting you back together again. He’d done it a million times before, and he’d do it a million times again.

He’d do it all again for you. 

Steve carefully slid your hands from around his center, placing one onto his shoulder, then– nervously and ever-so-slowly– he held your other hand out, sliding down your forearm and entwining his fingers into yours. His free hand fell softly onto your waist, fingers absently and lightly kneading the fabric and skin underneath his palm.

“May I have this dance?” he whispered.

You looked up from the floor to Steve, speechless. You nodded.

Then, he started to sway. He guided you both, rocking side to side to an unheard rhythm and subtly spinning in unison under the soft glow of the kitchen light.

He smiled softly, boyish and genuine, with admiration and tenderness in his eyes. Something gentle and kind, something about the feeling and the familiarity of it– of him– sank into you the longer you looked at him. Your focus shifted around the features of his chiseled face. You recognized the light freckles stippled across his nose and cheeks leftover from the summer; the scar on his earlobe from the night Natasha drunkenly dared you to pierce his ear and failed; the faint worry lines sculpted into his forehead he inherited from his father; the soft, full pink of his lips that innocently parted when you caught him staring at you.

It was the feeling that felt foreign to you; the one missing from your life after the last two years. But, it wasn’t missing. It had been right in front of you the entire time stealing glances, accidental touches, and irreplaceable memories.

Steve had been there. 

Steve had been the one looking at you like that for the last two years. 

He wasn’t missing. He was just waiting his turn. 

And, judging by the realization that washed over your face, his waiting was over. 

Steve's smile widened as he squeezed your waist, wordlessly confirming the thoughts running rampant in your head. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the ghost of a cry, blinking away tears forming in the corners of his vision. 

Your lips trembled as you smiled back. Slowly, you snaked your hand from his shoulder to his cheek and cupped his face. He leaned into your touch instantly, stubble and skin rubbed against your palm as he kissed it lightly. The press of his lips sent a spark coursing through your veins, electrifying your body and the air around you. The two of you continued to sway while the kitchen spun faster, a blurred whirlwind while you both remained in focus.

“When?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“Since the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you–”

Steve shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you first. Didn’t wanna be some random dude who just wanted you for your number. You seemed too special to rush into something. Still are,” he sighed. “I wanted to be your friend first, but before I could muster up some courage, Tony swept you out from under me.” 

Guilt crawled up your throat. “I– I’m sorry, Stevie.”

He stepped away from you, twirling you, then dragged you back to him. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. 

“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I promise. I–” his voice broke. “I wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. I just– I wish I did more for you. I should’ve done more for you.”

He tilted his head to the ceiling trying to stop his tears from falling, but you pulled him right back down to you. 

“Steve,” you started, keeping on his baby blues while your own voice struggled to remain steady, “you’ve done more for me than anyone else in the entire world. Hell, in my entire life. I just lost the last two years of my life suffering with someone I thought I loved. Who I thought loved me.”

You brought your other hand to his face. “You did all you could. I just… I thought it was gonna get better, you know? I thought, I hoped– God, I even fucking prayed– that he’d get better, but he didn’t. Nothing did. And I couldn’t find a way out. It’s like he conditioned me to believe he was the only one I had, like, he was the only one who’d ever save me.”

Steve frowned, but nodded in understanding. 

“I’m glad you came to me. Not just tonight, but every night. It was like reassuring me that I didn’t totally lose you, or like I never totally lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Stevie.”

His face, red-hot underneath your touch, moved closer to yours. You couldn’t tell if you were pulling or he was pushing. His hands gripped your waist the tighter you held his face, the two of you crashing into one another in slow-motion. The light above you grew brighter, the humming of the appliances was getting louder, the room spun at an infinitely unfathomable speed. 

You crashed together. 

Soft lips– softer than either of you could’ve ever pictured feeling– fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces. Neither of you moved, staying locked together until your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer and smashing his nose into your cheek. His grip became bruising as his fingers kneaded into your waist, steadying himself with your hips. You felt another surge of electricity as his tongue jutted out, parting your lips and swiping along the bottom before retreating back behind his.

He tipped you backwards on your heel, smirking against your lips as you flinched and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt. 

Setting you upright, he pulled away from the kiss and whispered, “I’ll never let you go.”

“Never?” 

“Ever.”

You kissed him again, and the butterflies went wild. 

[bones4thecats]

you could do, Breakdown x fembot pregnant reader x Knockout. all three are conjux. 💙❤

TFP! KnockDown w/ their Carrying! S/O

Characters: Knockout and Breakdown (Transformers Prime) Requester: 💙❤Anon A/N: I jinxed myself in my last post lol. Short my ass!!! XD ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Nothing ⚠️

Disclaimer: This is set in a timeline where Breakdown lives and joins the Autobots alongside Knockout and their S/O before the film!

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Knockout and Breakdown ═══════════════════╝

🪚🥊 You were very content with your two sparkmates. While it was normally unusual to have more than one with your species, nobody really judged you for it, which surprised the three of you, as you lived on the Nemesis full of judgmental 'Cons

🪚 Knockout was very pleased to have both you and Breakdown by his side. He adored how strong Breakdown was and how intelligent you were. It was like you two were the two sides of a coin while he was the ridge that surrounded you both in a welded-mixture

🥊 Breakdown was like Knockout, he was happy to be with you both. He and Knockout went quite a bit back, but when he met you, he felt that you completed them both perfectly, allowing Knockout to be the perfect middle-ground to your Yin-Yang bond with Breakdown

🪚🥊 The two mechs were happy to live a life with their sparkmates. But, this was turned on their helms when you found out that you were carrying

🪚🥊 If they had it up to their choices, they would've held the carrying-process for after the War ended to keep you and your future-sparklings safe from any danger. But alas, Primus had to be cruel sometimes

🪚🥊 The duo decided to try keeping this from Megatron as best as possible. He had no care for anything happy, so if he were to find out that you were carrying, who knows what would happen to not only them for hiding this and technically causing it, but what was happen to you and your offspring?

🪚 Knockout proposed finding a way in old records to keep the sparklings growing in a tube of energon so they would be fed and grow at a constant and healthy-rate, though you declined and didn't like the risks it would give you guys

🥊 Breakdown was silent throughout the process. He had no idea what you guys could do in the situation, he wasn't specializing in anything other than destroying things and taking orders from his superiors

🪚🥊 After nearly an Earth-week long discussion with your sparkmates, it was leaked that you were carrying, which did not put you guys in good-waters with Megatron

🪚🥊 He called you three to the main room, and you stood nervously between the two mechs. You could hear the light tapping of your Lord's claw-like digits against the keyboard, and it was a very scary noise at the moment

"I heard that you're carrying, Y/N. Is that correct?" He asked.

"Yes, Lord Megatron."

"Why keep such information away from me?"

"We were just in shock from the announcement, my Lord. It was more of a 'heat-of-the-moment' kind of thing, you know?" Knockout said.

🪚🥊 Megatron nodded and looked down at you, making you slightly shiver in fear as his red-optic glare nearly bore holes into your processor. It was as if he wanted you dead more than he wanted the Prime defeated

🪚🥊 Your Lord blinked and looked up at the two 'Cons behind you, glancing at you before looking them both in their optics before saying the thing that would push you guys to your edge

"If there are any complications; I want that thing exterminated, no matter the cost. Understood?"

"Y-yes, sir." Knockout replied, bowing to the larger mech.

"Understood..." Breakdown agreed.

🪚🥊 It was that night that you three left for a drive before contacting the Autobots, much to their confusion and anger. Why were these three; three of their biggest adversaries in the Decepticons, wishing to speak?

🪚🥊 The Autobots appeared from their Ground-Bridge and saw you three standing there, Breakdown's arm being wrapped around you as you shivered and fearfully thinking about the future of your child if they were to be exterminated

🪚 Knockout stared at the 'Bots and sighed, walking up to them so he could speak face-plate to face-plate with their leader, Optimus Prime

"We're sorry for interrupting your night, Autobots," he began. "But, there were some issues that came up with us and we are... in need of your assistance."

"Why are you needing our help?" Bulkhead asked.

🪚🥊 You freed yourself from Breakdown's grasp and walked up to the Autobot team, reaching into your compact-space and pulling out a digital pad, showing them an image of your spark, two little balls of Cybertronian-life floating beside it, one having a cherry-red color while the other had a blue-glow

"You're carrying?" Ratchet asked.

"They are. And Megatron found out..." Breakdown said.

"You want to keep them safe from danger, am I correct?" Optimus said, looking at the two 'Cons for any sign of deceit, only to find none.

"Yes." They said together.

🪚🥊 The others looked at Optimus for his answer, and were surprised when he looked at you and pat your shoulder-pad before moving it to lightly rub your helm gently, much like how a Sire or Carrier would help their sparkling calm down their processor during development

"They can stay with us." He said, smiling at the two mechs.

🪚🥊 Breakdown and Knockout smiled and looked at you. You just looked back and stepped up to them, wrapping your arms around one of their neck's each, pulling them into their own sides of your own neck

"You'll be safe, beautiful." Knockout said in your audio sensor.

"We'll contact you daily, okay? Promise!" Breakdown added.

🪚🥊 Optimus and the others watched with slight pity. Yes, they were their enemies, but seeing just how much they cared for one another made them wonder; should they really separate them all?

🪚🥊 Before the two of them walked off, Optimus called their names, making them turned around in confusion

"Separating a sparkling from their Sire, or rather Sires, is horrible... so..."

🪚🥊 Sighing before holding his servos out for them to shake if they wanted too, Optimus finished;

"Would you care to join us as well?"

[cherryfennec]

So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-

Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!

This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:

General headcanons;

This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:

Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.

The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.

Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;

While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.

In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.

Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.

There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.

In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.

Few bonus headcanons!

I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!

[sailorrhansol]

Storm Breaker | Teaser (l.jh)

❀ Pairing: Lee Jihoon x reader  

❀ Summary: It’s a known fact Lee Jihoon is one of the best pilots the Jaeger Program has. The only problem? He can’t keep a co-pilot to save his life. He thinks you’ll just be another Ranger in the rotation, but you are an unpleasant surprise. 

❀ Word Count: ~23k

❀ Genre: SciFi, Rivals to Lovers  

❀ Type: Pacific Rim AU, Smut, Angst

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: TBD

❀ A/N: A fun little project me and @daechwitatamic decided to collab on :) coming to a Shatterdome near you soon. Also - this is set in the Pacific Rim Universe but I'm writing it in a way that you will not need to have seen the movie to understand.

❀ Also in this Universe: Cherry Bomb by @daechwitatamic

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀

Read Full Fic Now

“You can and you will. Your drift compatibility is 98% and you have similar fighting style and come from similar machines. You’ll start Conn-pod training tomorrow.”

“Don’t make me partner with her. I don’t like her.”

The Marshall stands. “One day you might learn that if you give people a chance, you’d like what you find.” 

“Marshall-” 

“That’s all, Ranger.” 

The air feels heavy as Jihoon leaves the Marshall’s office. He stops on the command deck, his eyes flickering over to the windows. The glass is floor to ceiling all the way around, giving the tower a 360-degree view of the pacific ocean. Blue stretches out as far as the eye can see, backdropped by the shining silver of the city. 

Boats bob on the water, shifting back and forth on the dark surface. Air teams go back and forth, working in the aftermath of Chan and Wylie’s successful kaiju destruction. Jihoon can see the toxicity on the surface of the water, an oil slick that he knows the exact pungent smell of. 

Trailing to an observation window, he stares with unseeing eyes. How many times had he stood up here and provided commentary to his friends during a fight? He didn’t frequent the command deck, but sometimes it gave him perspective. Or he was a little worried about his friends, especially when they were taking on higher category kaiju. 

Jihoon chews on the side of his lip. He’s talked Wylie and Chan through plenty of bouts before. He remembers sharply the terror of the fight that had changed all of their lives over a year ago, watching as the hull of Fang Striker was breached, the screams of terror as Wylie took a talon to the stomach, nearly killing her. The aftermath of Chan’s grief.

A chill breaks out over his arms. Jihoon knows he isn’t cut out to sit through something like that again, to try and get a panicking pilot to focus and get to safety. He’s not made for an advisory role. Not built to watch pilots come and go, completely operating out of his control. 

Death is easier to process in the heat of battle. It gives him an excuse to be distracted, to hide from the immediate pain of losing a pilot during a fight because he’s too busy protecting himself, protecting the city. He’s not made to watch it from afar and take the full weight of it.

Turning away from the window, Jihoon descends back down to the ground floor. 

Probation period. Three months of having to stomach you or he’s out. Flexing his fingers, he heads to his room, needing the silence. If Jihoon is going to do this, he knows he needs to keep himself in line. Can’t push you away like he has the others. 

And he hates you for it.

-

Also in this Universe: Cherry Bomb by @daechwitatamic

[ap41cu5]

Hello! I just finished watching Ghostbusters Frozen Empire because of your recommendation, and OH MY GOSH!! Lars is absolutely the type of character that i find attractive!!

I actually have a request for him! Here me out, A Lars and Female Reader, where she's his apprentice/assistant, and she secretly has feelings for him. But she feels guilty about it because he's essentially her boss! And she keeps having fairly sexual fantasies about him, normally when she's asleep or zoning out. But then, one day, he actually makes a sudden move on her, and she genuinely believes that she's simply having another fantasy again!

Reverie or Reality

Lars Pinfield x Fem! Reader Rating: Slight NSFW - Suggestive Themes Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2922 A/N: i hope this was what you were looking for! since ive never written for lars before, i dont know how in character he is, but i hope you enjoy!

His hands gently held your waist as his lips gently pressed into the soft skin of your neck. Your nails dug into the back of his uniform as you winced under his touch.

You carefully took in his scent, the feeling of his hands around your waist as they slowly–

“Could you grab me the syringe?” Lars requested, holding his hand out while his eyes remained fixated on the petri dish in front of him. 

Your eyes shot up and you were immediately broken out of your trance. You quickly brushed away any thoughts regarding the wildly inappropriate fantasy as you quickly got up from your seat. Pulling your goggles down so they hung loosely around your neck, you quickly set down your marker and rummaged through the tool tray. 

As the main parabiologist, Lars mainly took on the hands-on aspects of each project. He would directly manage and study the biology of any and all possessed objects you encountered, while you calculated the physics and math behind it. Your job consisted of serving as both a theoretical physicist as well as Lars’ apprentice. Both of which you didn’t mind, and quite enjoyed. Math was always your forte, and working with Lars was always enjoyable. You loved learning new things, especially from him.

Listening to him ramble on about science and how fascinating he thought it was with that same glint in his eyes as usual, there was something about how passionate he was about the paranormal that made him vastly different than any other scientist, or even any other person, that you knew of. He was sweet, had a delightfully dry sense of humor, not to mention easy on the eyes.

Hastily rushing through the tool tray, your fingers finally met the plastic surface of the syringe as you quickly placed it in his outstretched hand. Your fingers just barely brushed over one another’s, momentarily causing your breath to get caught in the pit of your throat. 

As his eyes never left the microscope, he motioned for you to come closer. You quickly scurried beside him, the smell of his cologne being an all-too-familiar scent. 

His fingers were curled around part of the microscope, the veins in his hands being strangely attractive as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. His lips were slightly parted, and his waist was notably narrow. 

He stepped aside, “have a look through the microscope.”

You almost didn’t hear him with how good he looked at that moment, the lamplight highlighting his features as he looked back at you. It took you a few seconds to process his request, your eyes momentarily traveling down to his lips before you hastily nodded and positioned yourself in front of the microscope. 

Lining your eye up with both of the lenses, you observed the spore-like objects in the petri dish.

“Just looks like regular fungus,” you commented.

“Give it a moment, now,” he replied, his eyes glued to you as he waited for your reaction.

A sudden purple, plasma-like substance seemed to shoot throughout the fungi, immediately sparking your interest. A small gasp escaped your lips as you quickly adjusted the zoom knob in an attempt to observe a larger area of the dish rather than the single, concentrated area. 

“Fascinating…!” You whispered under your breath, craving to see more.

“That was paranormal energy. I collected it off of our latest subject. I wanted to see if the paranormal energy was concentrated down to the cellular level, and it seems we have our answer. Why it only travels in spurts rather than a constant wave is still a mystery, however. But I’m working on it,” Lars explained, laying a hand on your shoulder.

His touch immediately made you tense up as you bit the inside of your cheek. 

“While you’re here, why don’t you take some of that serum I made the other day and try dropping it into the dish again?” Lars suggested, giving your shoulder a gentle pat.

You scoffed, “so it can explode in my face again? I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s all part of improving. You want to learn more about parabiology as my assistant, no?” he nudged you, pointing to the bottle of green serum.

Giving him a hesitant nod, pulling your goggles back up as you carefully reached for the serum, grabbing the pipet next to it. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, desperately hoping you wouldn’t create another huge mess like last time. While Lars didn’t seem too worried about it, part of you really wanted to impress him, to be someone he could admire in the same way he was to you. 

You gulped, carefully measuring to make sure you had exactly one drop in the pipet before you dropped it into the petri dish. You could feel Lars’ eyes on you, and you weren’t sure if his presence was more comforting or nerve-racking. 

Your hand trembled above the petri dish as you painstakingly held the pipet at just the correct distance. Like ripping off a band-aid, you finally squeezed the liquid out of the small tube, as the singular drop landed in the petri dish with a faint “ploop!” sound. 

Prepared to back up and get a faceful of fungal matter, the substance in the petri dish only exhibited a small ‘poof!’ as a miniscule smoke cloud shortly followed. 

Immediately, your face lit up as you quickly turned to Lars.

“I did it!” You celebrated, a big smile gracing your features.

“See, I knew you could do it.” Lars lightly smiled back at you, your eyes traveling back down to his lips again before you quickly looked away.

“I– uh, was there anything else you needed?” You quickly asked, praying to God he didn’t notice the subtle glances you’d take at him.

He seemed to think for a moment, “yes, actually. Could you please disinfect the syringe from earlier as well as this scalpel?” Lars asked, handing both of the tools to you.

“Yeah, yeah sure,” you stammered, quickly making your way down the hallway to the disinfecting station.

Letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, you felt as though your knees could give out at any moment. Your hands were trembling and your face still warm, your infatuation with him was truly getting out of hand. 

Turning on the water, you sprayed some of the sterilization liquid onto the scalpel first, carefully spreading it across its metallic surface. 

This is getting out of hand. I can’t feel this way for him. We’re nothing more but coworkers. He’s my boss, I’m his assistant. Maybe even just an apprentice, at this point. But he’s just.. so…

No– no! How would he feel if he found out you were thinking about him in such a manner? He’d be disgusted! I’d need to find work elsewhere, no doubt. He’d never want to see me again! I really, really need to control–

“Ouch!” You winced, a small patch of red forming on your fingertip.

Looking down at the scalpel, then back at your finger, you realized that you accidentally nicked yourself while you were embarrassingly deep in thought about the man you were working under.

“(First Name)? Are you alright back there?” You heard Lars shout from the lab.

“Uh– yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry, I’ll be over in just a second!” You unconvincingly called back, rummaging through all the different cupboards looking for a pack of band-aids. 

Lars took off his goggles, growing curious and a tad bit worried. It never took you this long just to sanitize used tools before, not to mention you sounded awfully suspicious just then.

You groaned, Lucky never reorganized the drawers after she used them, making it impossible to find the god forsaken box of bandaids. You could feel the blood dripping down your hand as you stood back up to search the upper cabinets. 

“Damn it, Lucky,” you swore under your breath as you stood on your tippy toes, searching the very top of the cabinet.

“(First Name)?” Lars inquired, approaching you from behind.

Your head immediately shot towards him, stumbling back a bit. You hadn’t even noticed him approaching.

“Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to take so long. I just accidentally nicked myself with the scalpel. But it's no big deal, I just can’t find where Lucky put the band-aids for the life of me,” you exasperatedly sighed, ripping open another drawer.

He sighed, taking a few steps closer. “Let me take a look,” Lars gently requested, holding one of his hands out. 

“No– no, really it’s alright, you don’t have–”

“(First Name).”

You gulped at his stern tone, hesitantly holding your hand out for him to take.

He sighed, his thumb gently tracing your palm as he patted down the cut with a paper towel, soaking up all the excess blood. He slowly brought your hand up closer to his face, his eyes meticulously scanning the small cut. The feeling of his hand against yours made your face beet red all over again as you prayed he didn’t notice that you were trembling.

“Just, relax,” he reassured you, grabbing a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and pouring some of it onto a cotton ball.

“This is going to sting a bit, okay?” He braced you before he gently dabbed the ball of cotton onto the cut.

You winced, struggling not to pull back as he gently blew on the cut. He continued for a few seconds until the stinging finally subsided.

He held your hand by the wrist as he tossed the cotton ball into the trash can, grabbing a box of bandaids out of his pocket.

“You just carry band-aids around?” 

“You can never be too prepared,” he shrugged. “Don’t touch any of my experiments, alright? We don’t want that cut getting infected with whatever germs those ghost-infested objects may carry.”

You nodded, following him back to the lab. His touch was comforting, too comforting. You liked him too much– way too much. 

Stretching, you returned to your desk, mapping out any equations that needed to be solved. You sighed as you tried to keep a steady grip on your pen, the pressure on your fingertip causing it to ache. 

“Where’d everyone go?” You inquire, looking around the empty room, leaving just you and Lars alone together.

“They left ages ago. It’s nearly midnight. Had you not realized?” Lars replied, taking a granola bar out of his desk.

Late nights weren’t uncommon with Lars. Going home early for either of you was amongst the rarest of sights to behold.

“No, I guess I must’ve lost track of time,” you replied, fighting to keep your eyes open.

He glanced back over to you, “you look tired, (First Name). Why don’t you head on home for the night? You deserve it.”

“No, no, I’m okay. I just need to finish up these last few equations and I’ll be on my way. Promise.”

Lars sighed, taking one last worried glimpse at you.

“Alright, but only because you promised,” he remarked before pulling his goggles back on.

Begrudgingly getting up out of your seat, you grabbed a marker and began solving the last equations up on your whiteboard. With a sigh and a hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you got to work. 

The only sound breaking the deafening silence was the noise of your marker squeaking against the white board along with the occasional yawn from either of you. 

But it was just so hard to focus.

The way he so carefully held your hand to tend to your cut, he didn’t have to, but he did. He was gentle with you, and sweet. At this point, you were almost certain your feelings for him stretched beyond just the point of infatuation. Far past the point of just infatuation. 

The countless times you’d spaced out during a project thinking about him was awfully embarrassing, and frankly you don’t know how no one around you noticed. Or even how he hadn’t noticed, for that matter. But you weren’t complaining in the slightest. He’s your boss, you can’t imagine how disgusted he would be if he ever found out how you truly felt about him.

“(First Name)? You alright over there?” Lars inquired, looking up at you from his station.

“Yeah-! Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, confusion lacing your voice.

“You’ve been staring at the whiteboard for the past 5 minutes,” he added, taking his goggles off from around his neck.

Shit. 

You felt your face grow hot with embarrassment as you quickly turned back around to face the whiteboard.

“I’m alright! No need to worry!” You stammered.

You could just barely hear the sound of Lars’ boots tapping against the floor behind you as you tried as hard as you could to solve the next part of the equation. But it was like your mind blew a fuse and you couldn’t think at all, even the skills required for basic arithmetic escaped you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, his hand finding its way to your shoulder.

You couldn't find the words to respond, like you were in suspended animation. You stood frozen, marker in hand and eyes glued to the whiteboard.

“(First Name),” he paused, “you’ve been acting differently for a long while now. And I.. have a theory.”

You hesitantly turned to face him, setting your marker aside. 

“Oh– it’s just– it’s nothing, really!” you stammered, hoping to come up with something coherent until your rambling was quickly interrupted by the feeling of Lars’ tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured as his thumb gently traced along your jawline.

What is happening!? Does he really feel the same way? No, I must’ve fallen asleep at my desk after he helped me with my cut! Does this mean I’m lucid dreaming? But this dream feels awfully realistic. There’s no way..!

“L-Lars..?” you murmured, just barely above a whisper.

“It appears my hypothesis was correct,” he replied, his eyes studying you.

This isn’t real. I’m asleep, I’m dreaming, I have to be! 

His thumb traced along your chin, then gently traced along your bottom lip.

“I hypothesize,” his eyes traveled down to your lips, “that you, (First Name), have feelings for me.”

What a realistic dream. Okay, I’ll bite.

“And if I do?” 

His expression quickly changed to a bit of surprise, you were almost never this forward. 

“You’re feeling awfully bold right now,” he commented.

“Awfully. I’m surprised I haven’t woken up yet,” you mumbled to yourself.

He quickly pulled back, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“What?” He asked, his head tilting.

You paused for a moment until it finally dawned on you.

“Holy shit– holy shit, this is real,” a hand slapped over your mouth as you felt your face burn in pure embarrassment.

You were just about ready to dig yourself a hole under a rock and live there for the rest of your life.

“You’ve been dreaming about me?” Lars inquired, an all-too-familiar smirk appearing on his face.

You grumbled into your hands, not daring to look at him.

He chuckled a bit, “there’s no need to be embarrassed now, is there? I’m sure you’ve already figured out by now that I feel the same way.” He gently pried your hands off of your face.

You stared down at the floor, your heart beating out of your chest as he carefully pulled you closer. 

He gently pushed your chin upwards, “look at me, (First Name).”

You gulped, your eyes darting around the room before finally landing on Lars’ eyes.

“Would– would it be alright if I kissed you?” He asked, his face ever so slightly heating up at the request.

You’re not sure what came over you, but you didn’t even give it a second thought before you quickly thrust your lips into his. He stumbled backwards a bit, but quickly steadied himself as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

A groan escaped his lips as he melted into you, one of his hands gently tugging on the back of your hair. You both pulled away just for a split second for air before you quickly enveloped each other in another kiss. All the pent up desire you had for him seemed to flow out of you, every inch of him taking over your senses.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he grumbled, planting a chaste kiss just below your ear.

You whimpered at the contact. The feeling of him kissing your neck was better than you could’ve ever imagined. Your fingers intertwined with his soft curls, gently tugging on them, eliciting a low groan from the significantly taller man. Each kiss sent a shiver down your spine, hitting you directly in your core.

He quickly pulled away, his breathing was heavy and his cheeks were flushed.

“We.. we should stop. I’d– I’d like to take you out first. At least before we do.. anything,” he explained, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

Your neck felt cold without his touch, but you agreed anyway. A small smile graced your lips as you looked back up at him.

“I’d love that,” you stood up on your tippy toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Tomorrow, 8 o’ clock? I’ll pick you up,” he added, one of his hands resting on the base of your neck.

You beamed, “I would love that.”

[terabyteturtle]

hey!!! Can I have Jin Kazama x Pregnant wife (who happens to be a model) Reader headcanons. An idea I have is what if they have to keep the pregnancy a secret from Kazuya due to a fear of harm??? Make it fluff with a bit of angst

Jin Kazama x Pregnant Model Wife Headcanons

Once again, I apologize for taking so long! I tried my best to encapsulate everything you put in the request. Hopefully, it's what you wanted!

- It takes him a while to process the fact that you're pregnant. When you first break the news to him, he's just in shock. He experiences so many emotions at once that his mind just stops working. You better have a chair ready because Jin will need to sit down and process everything for a few moments.

- Once it sets in, he becomes angry with himself. He took every precaution to prevent this from happening, and yet somehow, it still did. It's his fault. It has to be. Jin blames himself for burdening you with a child potentially capable of mass destruction, and although he's tried to separate you from his family feud, you're bound to get dragged into it anyway, and it's all because of him.

- The fact that you're a model only makes matters worse. You already get a ton of publicity and exposure on a daily basis, but now that you're pregnant, that'll increase tenfold. With help from Lee and Lars, you and Jin have managed to keep both your relationship AND your marriage a secret so far. However, with a child on the way, it'll be impossible to keep that secret any longer. People will ask questions about the father's identity, and it's only a matter of time before the paparazzi find out the truth.

- Upon realizing this, Jin launches into full-on panic mode. As soon as he's revealed as the father of your child, his face is going to be all over the media. And Kazuya will be the first one to see it. Jin isn't entirely sure what his father would do, but he has his suspicions. He can only imagine the sheer horror of G Corp soldiers busting down your door, hunting you down like hound dogs trying to take you and the kid. If those suspicions are correct, then you'll likely be forced into hiding until the war is over. As long as Kazuya retains his powerful position, there's no telling how much danger you'll be in.

- Additionally, the people closest to him are sure to freak out. Xiaoyu and Hwoarang would panic, and he already knows Lars won't take kindly to it. He's not sure how Lee or Alisa would react, and that uncertainty only makes him more nervous. Jin knows that he should tell his loved ones before they find out through the media, but the mere thought of mentioning it makes his heart skip a beat.

- To top it all off, Jin's main mission is to exterminate his bloodline once and for all. The fact that you are now pregnant is pretty much the opposite of what he wanted.

- His course of action was to take Kazuya's life, then take his own. He was ready to sacrifice himself so that the Devil Gene would no longer exist. As much as he loved the people closest to him, as much as he adored and cherished every moment with you, he knew deep down that the world would be better off without people like him.

- But now, this complicates everything. He doesn't want to take his own life and leave you to raise the kid by yourself. Sure, friends and loved ones might help you out, but at the end of the day, you're going to have a lot of responsibility on your hands. Additionally, Jin knows how it feels to have grown up without a proper father figure, and he'd seen how difficult it was for his mother. He knows how it feels to have lost a parent, and no matter how much time passes, it will always hurt. Does he really want his child to witness those same struggles? To feel the same pain? Does he really want to leave you behind, after everything you've been through?

- Beneath that cold, edgy exterior, there's a soft spot in his heart that truly wants to settle down with you, but he doesn't believe it'll be possible.

- As he tries to solve his dilemma, a million questions race through his mind. Like, what if the kid has the Devil Gene? Will he have to kill his own child? But it's not just his child; it's your child too, and he can't bear to imagine the pain you'd feel if that were to happen.

- But then, what if the kid doesn't have the Devil Gene? What if they turn out to be a normal kid? In that case, he'd care for them and love them until the end.

- But that's when a thought strikes him.

- Why does it matter whether they have the Devil Gene or not? They're still human, after all. They still deserve love and compassion and nurturing. Just because they have the Devil Gene doesn't mean they're inherently evil; they still deserve a chance. Hell, Jin himself has it, and although he's done some terrible things, he's trying his hardest to atone for them.

- Maybe Jin could help teach them how to control it. Not that he really has control over it himself, but that's okay. Maybe they could learn together. Maybe that could be their way to bond.

- That's when he starts to realize how happy this truly makes him. He loves you more than life itself, and the fact that he's going to have a child with you is one of the greatest blessings life can give him. Being a father will come with a lot of responsibility, but Jin is willing to bear it and do the best he can for his kid. He realizes that he is willing to undergo the trials and tribulations that loom ahead, and he will fight to the ends of the Earth to keep you both safe.

- Jin will try and convince you to take a break from modeling and lay low for a while, as any publicity will become more dangerous as time passes on. You think it would be suspicious to just drop off the face of the Earth, which is why you let your agency know beforehand that you're going to be taking a hiatus for personal matters.

- As the baby starts growing and it becomes progressively obvious that you're pregnant, you will be heavily discouraged from going outside at all. For the baby's safety as well as your own, it's best that you refrain from going out in public where the paparazzi are bound to catch you.

- Naturally, Jin becomes very protective over both of you. He starts treating you like a glass vase because he's scared of hurting you somehow. He also gets slightly paranoid around the others and sticks by your side to make sure nothing happens to you.

- He still blames himself a lot for everything that's happening, and he's sorry that you can't just have a normal pregnancy. You have to reassure him that no one's at fault for this, and you're just as willing to fight for the baby as he is. If you have to break away from your normal life to keep them safe, then so be it. It'll all be worth it in the end.

- With a lot of encouragement from you, Jin confides in his friends, starting with Lee, who is happy to help you guys out. As the CEO of a well-known company, he can try to pull some strings and get the press to leave you alone. While it's no guarantee that they'll be gone completely, Lee will try his best to hold them off for a little while. He'll also give you a secret place to stay, stocked with plenty of food and water.

- Lars almost freaks out but manages to keep himself composed. He congratulates both of you and agrees to help you out in whatever way possible. If there's anything you need, be it more food, more water, or just more paper towels, he and Alisa will go out shopping and get it for you.

- Alisa and Xiaoyu are super excited and happy for you. Although the circumstances are not ideal, they still want to make sure that you enjoy yourself and celebrate your pregnancy. In fact, they've already started planning your baby shower.

- Hwoarang also ends up being super supportive. Though he makes himself out to be a tough guy, he has a big soft spot for babies. Rest assured, he will fight tooth and nail to keep this kid safe. Also, Hwoarang has officially proclaimed himself the child's godfather, and there is nothing you or Jin can do about it.

- If Jin's stressed out, you let him lay down and press his ear to your belly. Listening to the baby and being physically close to you has become the most calming feeling in the world to him.

- If Jin doesn't know what to do in certain situations, he'll stop and ask himself what Jun would do. He loves his mother deeply and thinks very highly of her. She was a loving and nurturing woman, so when it comes to taking care of you, he tries his best to emulate that kindness. Jun was a wonderful parent, as well as an excellent role model. When the baby arrives and he officially becomes a parent, Jin deeply hopes he'll turn out to be half as good as she was.

- He will constantly ask you if there's something he can do better. From this point forward, Jin will always be questioning whether or not he's doing the right thing. Your input is valuable to him, and if there's any advice or guidance you have to give, he'd greatly appreciate it.

- At the end of the day, Jin wants to be the best father he can be. Your child's happiness, as well as your own, mean the world to him. No one can take either of you away from him, and Angel have mercy on those who dare try.

[xjulixred45x]

Lotor x Pearl!GN! Reader

Request: Now that the requests are open I want to do one about Voltron (again), about Lotor headcanons with a reader who is like a pearl from Steven Universe, who probably was a "gift" from his governess, I imagine that reader @ is a very scared but sweet person who is afraid of disappointing Lotor and that he will throw them away because of that (traumas from the past before meeting him). I just want some comfort from one of my favorite Voltron characters💕

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Warnings: allusions/mentions of past abuse, reader at first treated more like an object than a person, fear of abandonment, somewhat confusing timeline for the sake of the plot? HURT with Comfort, Fluff, non-canon ending of Voltron for my sanity :') Lotor What have they done to you?

You come from a very... special planet to say the least.

Especially you were born in a social caste that was considered the lowest, so you were trained all your life to be the future accessory of a powerful person. As bad as it sounded.

This was obviously not a pleasant process, especially with the Garla empire breathing down your planet's neck.

You could say that you got especially ruthless training, the slightest mistake was severely reprimanded, only to know that if you did it in REAL practice you most likely wouldn't come out alive...

Then the Garla Empire took possession of your planet. Everyone was terrified of what could happen, YOU were terrified of what was going to happen to you.

But fortunately? You were given as a personal servant to the Garla, along with many others, in exchange for not destroying the planet completely.

But you were lucky enough that it was your turn to serve the Prince of the Garla, Lotor.

This was before the Paladins intervened, so even when they arrived, this still stood.

To say that you were scared was to say, you were terrified of what was going to happen. What if he was one of those super strict princes? What if he had a bad temper? What if he got angry with you and got physical? And If it hurts you? Or worse?

You set out to be as correct and upright as possible for this new position, apparently you would be a gift, well, maybe you don't have to do much, you can do this.

Dayak barely talks to you, although the first time you meet her is only so she can give you a checkup to make sure you live up to her expectations, and fortunately you are and she seems very satisfied.

Before meeting this "Lotor" she gives you a tour of the Garla main ship in a vague way so that you become familiar with everything and thus adapt quickly before seeing Lotor. The ship is GIANT so it takes a while.

Although at least with this you can hear some people talking and whispering about Lotor, apparently the winner of the "Kral Zera", the first Half-Blood emperor and Zarkon's heir...someone to have fear apparently.

Let's just say they didn't make you feel much better.

But at the end of the day you finally meet him. Is he together with what appear to be the paladins of Voltron? And Dayak makes his presence quite noticeable (poor paladin Blue and especially yellow).

Before retiring, Dayak introduced you to Lotor, as his new personal assistant, to serve him in any way he wanted.

To your surprise, Lotor seemed just as off guard as you, it seems that he had forgotten the deal with the Kral Zera matter, it is understandable, but it was especially shocking when he apologized to you because he could not introduce himself properly, since he had a VERY busy day with the Voltron thing...

....weren't you supposed to come help him with that? What Quiznak?

You tried to tell him that, that you could help him manage that, but he said no! That for now he could handle himself well, but that you should give him time to think of something for you...

okay that was VERY strange

But a nice strange? Lotor was not like you thought he would be.

Even when he finally did what he had to do with the Paladins and Princess Allura (love of a person), he still treated you with a respect you weren't used to.

you were mainly in charge of his agenda with the other Garla leaders and works like that, together with the Paladins and Princess Allura, etc. It wasn't a heavy job, but it required attention to detail and you definitely went out of your way to make it perfect.

And contrary to what you thought, you received some recognition from your, so to speak, Boss (because Lotor hated it when you called him "master" or "owner"), Lotor was grateful that you helped him and that you were so diligent, He let you know when he kept you up to date.

You could even have conversations with him! It wasn't something you had been prepared for in the least, but it was nice, Lotor was someone very intelligent and even had an interesting sarcastic sense of humor. You learned a lot by talking to him.

In turn, Lotor learned more about your species based on his experience with you, although at first it was difficult for him, because you insisted on keeping a certain distance, but he was able to make his way through your walls.

He found you quite pleasant and even charming! Lotor always tried to see other species with equal respect, and for you to see him from such a high place (without the need for violence, just doing his job) made him feel very good about himself.

And the feeling was mutual.

It made you feel calmer about all of this, that everything was going better than you thought. You had ended up with an owner--ahem, Boss- who was nicer than you expected and everything seemed fine--

But then you made a MISTAKE.

You were trying to get used to one of the controls on Lotor's main ship and out of nowhere the controls stopped working. They didn't respond, didn't work and seemed glitched.

You realized that you had pressed the wrong places (used to the mothership controls) and that you had "messed up" this one.

But all you could think about was the trouble you'd get into with Lotor.

Oh no oh no oh no What am I going to do? What are they're going to do to me? They're going to have to throw me away, right? How can I get through this? What if they kill me? What if--

You were so panicked that when Lotor arrives you don't notice.

And it only makes you even more afraid.

Lotor asks what happened, but he starts checking the console on his own and realizes what happened, he knows what you did--

And you can't stand the urge to cry anymore.

Lotor honestly freaks out, he thought you would have gotten hurt and that's why you were crying so much, but you were apologizing for breaking the console, and saying that you were fine with being replaced with someone more capable as long as please, please don't kill you...

Even if he didn't show it much on the outside (it's a habit up to this point he's sorry for it), it hurt Lotor to see you like this. And even more so for something so small. Is this why you thought he was going to replace you? Kill you?? Although he sees that it's mostly because you've been traumatized before, so he's not offended (at all).

Lotor tries to calm you down, explain to you that it's not a big deal. It's not broken! It just needs to restart! Please don't cry! He's not going to replace you! Much less touch a hair on your head! You are save with him...

He ends up fixing the console to prove his point and you calm down, something like that, both of your emotions are running high.

From there, you are a little more alert for your possible "mistakes" and honestly, Lotor misses how you were before this little incident, now it seems like you are walking on eggshells (Whatever that means? The blue Paladin said it ) when you are around him.

He discovers that he misses talking to you more than he thought, he is not someone who gets attached easily, but finally having someone who respected him as a person and not as Prince Garla and that you are now in this scared state hurts him.

So it does something... surprising.

He asks the Paladins and Allura for help.

Obviously some make fun of him a little ahem LANCE AND PIDGE ahem, but for the most part they try to give him good advice on how to approach the situation, although they all have a common idea.

TALK IT DIRECTLY or let you adjust naturally again (which seemed unlikely without the former).

So he did it, he call you to speak alone.

Sincerely? You almost died of fright. This on your planet was a VERY BAD omen, VERY BAD.

so imagine your surprise when Lotor was REALLY alone when you went to see him, but you still remained nervous, this man could destroy you with just one arm after all.

But Lotor...just talks.

And he gets straight to the point, he does NOT plan to replace you, he does NOT plan to hurt you, he does not want you to think that you are so expendable, especially when he has come to enjoy your company so much, you can rest assured, mistakes happen, we ALL make them, he prefers that you make them. a thousand mistakes to not having you at all.

Being honest? It was quite nice.

And you were able to be more...at peace with yourself after that. Be the sweet assistant again.

If we talk about advanced terms of a romantic relationship, IT'S PURE FLUFF.

Lotor has shown that he doesn't give a shit about race, so he has no problem relating to you even if you're not even half Garla. What if someone has a problem? They won't have it anymore :)

If your planet is still under the control of the Garla, it is most likely that Lotor has forced them to have laws and a more egalitarian legislature, your people have not lived so well in decapheobes! Of course, there are those who are still not used to it and others who are directly against it, but that always happens.

Lotor is patient when it comes to old wizard habits, chances are you'll still be that way! But more as a consort😅

Get ready, now that it is certain that he loves you and that you love him too, there is no escape from affection. Lotor is aware that he's touch-starved, but when you discover through this that YOU'RE touch-starved TOO, it's like, the perfect mix.

Lotor is the most openly affectionate, which helps you gain some courage to do the same, although of course, when it comes to making the other person nervous, you never win (although Lotor MELT inside seeing you try).

Lots of physical contact!! Especially at events with too many people and where you can easily feel overloaded, it's a quick way to calm yourself down and for Lotor to be happy and calm (literally, if they want to calm him down they have to bring you into the room and he's INSTANTLY in a good mood again).

You have a friendship with Allura! She jokingly says that you're too good for Lotor, but in a loving way.

The Paladins don't understand how Quiznak, someone as sweet as you ended up with Lotor. Did they threaten you? Blink twice if so--

Your nature is now a little more curious, you see everything with new eyes, it is something tender for Lotor, for him most of these things are everyday, but for you it is something new and even unique, it is nice.

He also now handles your crises better when PTSD strikes, takes you somewhere spacious, keeps some distance so you can breathe better, and when you recover he is on you for the rest of the day, quite worried.

In general, Lotor sees his partner with equal respect and love regardless of their race, social status or how they met, he loves you regardless of everything or how you perceive yourself. You are his equal, his partner, nothing changes that.

Reblogs, shares and Comments are very welcome!!

[angstywaifu]

Goodbye - Garrick Tavis

Request by @fw-gt - "I never want to see you again." A/N: This was a weird one to write. I'm torn between liking writing this, but also hating writing something like this for my main Rebellion boy. Please don't hate me! But I hope you enjoy it.

Masterlist

I stare at Garrick in shock as I try to process his words as my heart thunders in my chest, and my blood runs cold. My mind torn between lashing out at him or breaking down and crying. My mind decides on a mixture of both as silent tears start to fall down my cheeks and my eyes narrow at him.

”What did you say?” I manage to get out in a somewhat neutral tone.

I watch as he hangs his head and his shoulders sag. “We need to stop seeing each other. It’s too dangerous.”

”Too dangerous? Why is it all of a sudden too dangerous?” I snap at him.

I’m glad the courtyard is empty, the rest of the quadrant in the dinning hall celebrating graduation. All except Garrick and I. Garrick who has just broken my heart.

”You know why.” He says angrily as he lifts his head to look at me. “I nearly lost you in that attack!”

”And I nearly lost you! But you don’t see me throwing the last two years down the drain because of it!” I yell back as I step towards him.

His gaze hardens at my words and I watch as I notice the tick in his jaw. “You know the last two years have meant so much to me. Do not question that. This isn’t easy for me to do.”

“Then why are you doing it?” I demand.

”Because I will not let them use you to get at me. And don’t you try tell me they won’t because they will. We both know they will do whatever they can to get at us. To get information out of us. And I can’t protect you if I am not here.” His voice shakes at the end.

As much as I know it is hurting him to do this, I still see red. He was willing to end this because of one thing going wrong. Yes we lost people, but we had both walked out alive. Alive and together. We had both fought to make sure we made it back to each other.

”What about Xaden and Violet?” I ask him.

His eyebrow furrows. “What has this got to do with them?”

”Is he also ending things with Violet to protect her?”

”Their situation is complicated. This is different.”

”Different?” I shake my head at him, a sarcastic laugh escaping my lips. “No. It isn’t. She is also in danger, probably more so than me. And we both know I can protect myself better than her.”

"They have mated dragons. She’s a target no matter what he does.”

”And I will be to. We don’t need to be in a relationship for them to know they can get to you through me. I have a target on my back regardless of what we do. I have a target on my back just for being in Athebyne.”

”At least I can try to protect you by doing this.” He tells me softly as he steps towards me as he goes to grab my hand.

I step back out of his reach, shaking my head at him as new tears roll down my face. “You should know more than anyone I do not need protecting. I have been through the same shit as you. I can handle myself.”

He tries to reach for me again. I take another step back. “I know you can. Gods I know you can. I have never doubted your ability to fight or protect yourself. But at least I can try lessen the threat against you. When this is all over we can go back to how things were. Back to each other.” He pleads to me.

“No. There is no us after this is all done. I never want to see you again.” I say sternly even though it breaks my heart to.

I stare into his eyes as I shake my head and I can see the moment his heart breaks. As he realises he’s fucked up. I watch as his hand reaches for me. My body screams at me to rush into his arms and take it all back. To say I will wait for him. But it’s too late. Garrick had broken my heart beyond repair. I watch as tears form in his eyes, one escaping and rolling down his cheek.

”You…. You don’t mean that.” His voice quivering as he speaks. His chest rising and falling faster, his panic setting in.

”Goodbye Garrick.” I say before turning on my heel and walking away.

Each step being harder than the next. I hear a small thud behind me. As I go to turn the corner I see Garrick kneeling on the ground where I left him and my broken heart.

[ohforficsake]

Down, Boy

A Margay Universe Drabble

series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: The boys end up at a dive bar on Frankie's birthday. Snipers are good at pool. Frankie's not gonna be able to wait until they make it home. Can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC Audrey 'Moose' Goddard

Word Count: ~ 1.6K words

Rating: Explicit 18+ / dirty talk, momentary dry humping, jerking off in a dive bar bathroom, mention of oral sex (f receiving), bit of a come fetish (it's these two, they're just like this) / language / drunk!Frankie is the sweetest, filthiest menace with a massive competency kink / Minors DNI

A/N: A little drabble that came up a few months ago but didn't quite fit with the main Margay storyline. Just something fun to tie you over after putting you all through it with Chapter 9.

Divider by @cafekitsune!

Frankie is—

—a bit drunk tonight.

But it’s his birthday.

And he’s always been a happy drunk. 

There’s no falling on the floor. No getting up in other patrons’ faces. Just cheeks ruddy and round from freely-given mirth. 

He’s harmless as a puppy and just as excitable. 

Whooping with cheers whenever anyone sinks a pool ball into a pocket, whether they’re on his team or not.

_____

He had made the trip out to northern California for the occasion, wanting only to spend his day with his daughter.  

But the boys catch wind of his plan and throw in for an Airbnb on the coast for the occasion.

And in the process of planning, Santi and Benny cook up a four-beer deep idea over an empty pizza box to arrange an extra gift.

Aud, what are your thoughts on Fort Bragg? Santi fires off on a text thread between the three of them.

I’m glad that they’re changing that name, guy was a cunt.

Sorry no, California. Benny clarifies. But also, agreed.

Is that not named after the same guy?

Santi sends the house’s address at the same time Benny sends, it is yeah.

Catfish wants to spend his birthday out there with his kid and we couldn’t let him celebrate alone. Pope attempts to steer.

Wondering if you might want to tag along? Last week of June. 

Send me a venmo request for my part of the booking.

_____

Something warm blooms in Audrey’s chest at the sight of Frankie with his friends, quietly strategizing over forest green pool table felt.

He throws his arm around Benny’s neck and thumps Santiago on the back when they win this round, uncaring that he and Will have lost the last three.

“Can you please play this one, this score is embarrassing,” Will leans over on his bar stool with arms crossed against his chest, voice raised just enough so Audrey can hear him over Garth Brooks being played at a decibel below ungodly volume.

“Already told you, if I play, it’s over in one turn,” she takes a swig of beer, “that’s no fun for anyone.”

“Losing isn’t fun either though.”

She studies Will in the haze of neon-red tinged smoke. Audrey’s only known him for three hours, but she likes him already. Enough to grant him this favor.

“Fine.” 

She slips off her bar stool and shimmies her jeans higher up on her hips before shrugging the leather jacket off of her shoulders.

“You playin’, Moose?” Santiago calls with a grin.

“One round,” she holds up a finger, “save these boys some shame,” she finishes as Will hands her a cue. The minute she lifts it off the ground she murmurs “not that one,” and Will swaps her out. 

“There’s no way she’s that good,” Benny quips to Pope as he racks up the balls.

“I—do not have as much confidence as you on that,” Santiago carefully lifts the triangle and slots it back under the table. “You should probably know better, Benjamin.”

“You boys are fucked,” Frankie loops his arms around both of their shoulders as Audrey chalks her cue.

She places the cue ball towards one rail behind the second set of diamonds and glances behind her, gauging the space before leaning down to eye level, bouncing and spinning the cue in her hand to get a feel for its balance before she takes her first shot.

Audrey sinks two balls on the break. 

She quickly assesses the table when they come to a stop. “Stripes, do I need to call the pocket?”

“No need to be a show-off,” Pope quips. 

“Fair enough,” she slips around the far side of the table and sinks the 9-ball in a corner. It lines the cue ball up perfectly and she drops 14 in a center pocket. 

One lap around the table and a glance at the boys to be sure she has clearance before Audrey knocks the cue ball just off its center point, gliding it across felt where it transfers its spin to 15, sending it swirling down the rail into a corner pocket. She slips around to the opposite side of the table, banking the cue ball off the opposite rail and into 13, which slips neatly into the center pocket nearest her. 

“What went in on the break?” Benny calls.

“11 and 2,” Will answers where he’s calmly perched on a barstool against the wall.

She could miss now and he’d still be impressed.

She won’t.

The cue ball is dead center on the table and 10 is sitting a foot short of a corner. Audrey circles the table, chalking her cue as she analyzes angles. The best shot is from the end nearest the three boys but she’ll have to reach for it.

She stands in front of them and murmurs “sorry, boys,” before she hikes one knee up on the side rail and leans down, chest nearly grazing the table. 

Frankie covers Benny and Santi’s eyes from where his arms are still braced on their shoulders. 

His eyes, however, are locked on her ass.

They hear 10 drop in before brushing Frankie’s hands away.

Audrey bounces the cue ball off the edge of 12, popping it into the nearest pocket.

“Oh, that’s done, she’s got it,” Benny murmurs when the white ball comes to a stop directly in line with the corner pocket nearest Will, the 8 ball sitting perfectly in the middle of the shot.

Audrey sinks it and Frankie whoops, clapping both men on the back before rushing around the table to grab Audrey in a bear hug that lifts her up off her feet.

“FUCK yeah, baby!!!” He screams, taking her face in his hands and mashing his mouth against hers.

“Okay, down boy,” she quips with a smile.

“Well played, Moose,” Will holds out his hand for a shake.

“Alright, the rest is on y’all,” she hands the cue off to Will. “I gotta hit the restroom and then I’ll pick up another round.” She makes her way around the table, Benny and Santi congratulate her with claps on the back before she’s off down the hall.

“Hell of a woman you got there, Catfish,” Will chalks his cue.

Frankie answers with the quirk of a brow and a smirk that drips with filth.

One of the patrons recognizes Benny from fight night and it causes a stir. Turns out Will knows him from high school and everyone’s fascinated with what a small world it really is, attention distracted enough to allow Frankie to slip away.

_____

Audrey wrenches the door to the bathroom open and collides with Frankie’s chest.

“Jesus, Francisco.”

He backs her up with his body, kicking the bathroom door closed and latching it as his mouth crashes against hers, twisting his cap around backwards.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, baby.” He smashes her against the wall with his broad form, craning low to kiss at what skin he can get to under her turtleneck before giving up and sucking on her earlobe. 

“Yeah, well, I guess��� she pants as Frankie drops to his knees and grabs at her hips, grinding the bulge in his jeans against her shin as he mouths at her stomach through the fabric of her shirt, “don’t play pool with a sniper.” 

Frankie is fully hard as he ruts against her, pulling clumsily at the button and zipper of her jeans. He inhales against her mound and moans before quickly getting to his feet. 

Harmless as a puppy and just as excitable.

He’ll sniff crotches and hump legs too, apparently.

Audrey grabs his face between her hands in an effort to center him, dipping her tongue into his mouth before Frankie pulls back.

“Fuuuck baby,” he reaches down to squeeze his cock through his jeans, “I’m not gonna make it, baby, I can’t–”

“Frankie–”

“Shhh, gatita, please,” he clamps a hand over her mouth as his forehead thumps hard against hers, “fuck,” he huffs, “I’m gonna. Pull those pretty panties down for me, beautiful. Just a little bit.”

Audrey is positively dying to see where this goes. 

She slips her jeans and thong down her thighs, eyes locked on Frankie’s locked on black lace.

“Right there. That’s my pretty girl. Yeahh,” he shifts around to free himself from his jeans and she moans into his palm where he slides the hot, hard length of him against her center.

Frankie indulges for a moment, slipping his cock against the smooth wet of her lips.

“Shit,” he hisses before gripping himself in his fist, brown eyes searching green for permission.

And having it, he starts to pump his cock.

It takes him less than a minute before thick ropes of semen spurt into the gusset of her panties as he groans against the back of his hand where it’s still clamped over her mouth.

“Gatita?” He lets go on a ragged gasp once his hips have stilled and he’s worked himself through.

She puffs an acknowledging breath against his palm. 

“I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear,” he lets his hand drop but keeps his forehead pressed against hers. 

Frankie’s fingers move down to hook in the waistband of her lace thong before he slips it, warm and sticky and reeking of his spend back up into place.

“Keep that for me?” He slips his tongue in her mouth, fastening the button on her jeans and dragging the zipper closed. “I’m gonna come back for it.”

He presses a final, wet kiss to her lips, warm palm resting briefly on her cheek before he slips out of the door.

He leaves her frayed with want. Panting through burning lips as her head thumps back against the wall.

Sometimes she wonders if Frankie Morales is the filthiest motherfucker alive.

Two hours later when he cleans her cunt with his tongue—cap twisted round backwards on his head, wet panties stuffed into the pocket of his jeans—she realizes he probably is.

He probably is.

And he's hers.

Tagging a few lovely folks who are/might be interested: @tinytinymenace @theshensei @jeewrites @oliveksmoked @for-a-longlongtime

@toomanytookas @missladym1981 @harriedandharassed @76bookworm76 @spookyxsam

@soft-persephone @julesonrecord @legendary-pink-dot