#it’s such a small detail but it’s so sweet he’s just making sure his bf doesn’t fall iM GONNA CRY

[nicksstrongrugbyarms]

Nick holding the ladder for Charlie while they set up for prom is really putting me through the ringer right now

[luxurychristmaspudding]

Pickup Truck

summary: frankie hates your boyfriend. in fact, everybody does. but he’s willing to give him a chance. you’re his best friend, after all. until frankie discovers something he can never forgive.

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+. MDNI. this fic contains allusions to, but no descriptions of, domestic abuse. please do not proceed if you know this will upset you.

frankie's pov. no lady and no baby for our boy. drinking, violence (against pos bf), angst, lots of hurt, allusions to dv. comfort, fluff. frankie to the rescue. unprotected p in v (wrap it irl!). oral, f receiving. creampie. bad spanish (again). kings of leon references. happy ending, of course.

wc: 9.8k

an: whew, this was an emotional one to write. but i hope a good love comes to all of you in time, no matter where you are at the moment. and if you already have it, may it always keep you safe. lovely divider from @saradika.

Frankie really doesn’t like your boyfriend.

Scratch that. Nobody does.

Nobody really knows where you found him, either. A sweet, smart girl like you, moved back to your small town from your big city life, and it looks like you picked up the very first guy who sidled up to you in a grimy bar.

Which, if you’re really honest, is exactly what happened. Because he was nice at first. Real nice. He was charming and sweet and interested - he bought you drinks all night and didn’t push to come in when he walked you home. You went for dinner a few times, and sure, he could be a little rude to the waitstaff, but it was only because he was so focused on you. He bought you flowers and took you for rides, and sure, sometimes he’d come home far too drunk after seeing his friends and get a little too close, a little too loud, but he always apologised.

And sure, he sometimes made you cry, but he always made it up to you. Sweet promises, small gifts. And he'd never laid a finger on you.

Not until last week, anyway.

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know who to turn to. The thought of it makes you so sick you have to lock yourself in the bathroom at work. How did this happen? How did it turn so sour?

And how do you get out?

Walk you home to see

Where you're livin' around

And I know this place

Frankie walks you home from the bonfire. He always does.

It’s his favourite moment of the night.

He gets to have you all to himself. Gets to watch your cheeks cool in the night air, watch as the blush from the heat of the fire subsides. Your giddy, wide eyes, your tipsy babbling about stories which had been swapped over the flames, picking out particularly scandalous details for you two to giggle about before doubling over into breathless laughter over something Benny had said. 

He likes to hold your elbow, your hand, as you catch him in your amusement, gripping onto his bicep. He loves to lose himself in this little pocket of time with you.

He loves the sparkle of the stars, the glow of the streetlights as they light your features.

Frankie loves you.

And he’s so glad you’ve moved back from your life in the big city to come and be around your real friends again. So glad that you’ve all found your way back to each other. Tonight has left him with such a mellow tingle in his bones that he finds he can’t stop smiling at you, looking at you, on your walk home.

Bonfire nights have always been your monthly hangout, a time when you can be sure you’ll get the whole gang together. There used to be more of you through highschool, and still a fair few during college. It dipped when the boys joined the forces, when people moved further east and further north. But eventually Frankie, Benny, Santi, and Will had come back. Jessa, your other best friend, had returned too. A few others coming and going - Lily, Marcus, Maggie - also back and forth from their new homes to their old ones. And then eventually folk had just… settled. 

Frankie felt like he was one of the last, like he was maybe the one finding it the hardest, retired to a life of civvy duties. Unable to hold down a girlfriend, struggling to stick at a job, sofa surfing around friends’ places. He was still flying whenever he could, but then this coke allegation happened, and it was like the world was finally swept from under him. 

You were the first person he had called, the first person to talk him down from his panic, that debilitating squeeze around his heart when he thought about the future. The first person who made him feel like it would be okay.

So of course his joy when you had come back had been immeasurable. Maybe this time, he’d thought.

And then you’d met Tanner.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as you drag your hand out of his, skipping a little further up the dark street until you reach a corner. Frankie watches as you spin on the spot in the quiet neighbourhood, gesturing down the pathway before you. 

‘This is me.’ You say.

But you don’t turn to keep walking. You watch him, a small, excited smile on your lips. Like you’re waiting for him to work it out. 

Frankie drags his eyes from you, away from thoughts of your new boyfriend, to look up and down the street you’ve led him to, and for a second he is pulled beneath the ebbing flow of memory, towed with the riptide of things forgotten. 

This is his grandmother’s street. Was his grandmother’s street.

The cracked concrete, the peeling paint of the porches. The weeds, the flowers, the smell.

He breathes your name like you’re the only thing tethering him to the now.

Breathes your name through the bright, sunny flashes of his childhood. His mama bringing him here with his brother, his papa swinging him by his legs in the flower-riddled front garden. Cartoons in the ripe heat of the afternoons, him and his cousins stuffing their faces with Guagitas and Frugele until they’d made themselves sick while the younger siblings napped in the sunbeams of the bedroom next door. Cycling over on his bike after school to sit at her kitchen table to do his homework, letting her fuss over him - his height, his friends, his grades, girls -

A skinnier, younger Frankie stopping by his abuela’s house with you to pick up her up for his nineteenth birthday party, along with her homemade tamales, her chiles rellenos, and specially made pumpkin sopaipillas for later on. The way you had chatted to her, natural, easy going, how you had made her laugh, her eyes sparkle. How, when you had taken some of the plates to the car, his abuela had pinched his cheek. I like her, she’d said, Será tuya algún día, mm, mijo? And Frankie had flushed bright red, batting her arms away as she chuckled at him. He had hidden in the back bedroom when you came in from outside, and listened a little longer to your conversation as he waited for the heat of his face to die down. When he reemerged, you had helped his grandmother into her shoes, her cardigan, and kept ahold of her arm until she got into Frankie’s beat up old car. At the end of the night, his abuela had kissed both your cheeks several times, rocked you back and forth in a hug, and clapped her hands as she said how she looked forward to seeing you again.

When you came home from college every summer, you’d have tea with her in her garden. She always asked Frankie about you, about how you are doing. When he told her you were coming home, she’d been so excited. Quizás este sea el momento? She’d said to him, squeezing his hand. He’d smiled, his heart quietly full of hope. Tal vez, abuela, he’d said.

When he called you two weeks later, his voice weak from crying, to tell you that she’d passed, you had been heartbroken. And it seemed like her wish, the red thread she’d seen between the two of you, had been snipped, too.

Pour yourself on me

And you know I'm the one

That you won't forget

Frankie likes to listen to you talk, because he’s never much been one for talking. 

He supposes you just bring it out of him, though. Because here on this street, in the moonlight, he tells you more about his grandmother. You spend hours walking up and down the pavement as he recounts every story he can remember; him and his brother, his parents, aunts and uncles, cousins. Birthdays, weddings, funerals. The street comes alive with the ghosts of people, the spectres of feelings. You and Frankie talk of growing up. Of falling in love. Of each other. 

Your small, well-loved house is half way down the street, four up from his abuela’s. It does something strange to his heart to have two of his favourite people, who loved each other in their own ways, so close but so far away. 

Your fingers hold his wrist as he shows you a scar on his palm from eating shit on his bike when he was eight, and when he looks up, your eyes are shining under the streetlights. There is a glint of moon in your teeth, and a shocking want so clear on your face, but when he meets your eye there is suddenly hesitation, a realisation, a shuttering. Frankie stops his story. There is a moment, and then it slips away like sand.

You shiver, chilled all of a sudden, and wrap your arms around yourself. Frankie tries not to look too hard at the goose bumps blossoming on your bare skin, tries to fight off the urge to kiss the little raises until you’re warm again under his touch.

‘Cold?’ he asks, and you smile back up at him. God, his heart.

‘As a hole,’ you giggle, and he feels himself smile goofily back at you. ‘We gotta warm up.’ You say, and then freeze.

It takes Frankie a little while longer to hear the inadvertent invitation in your words.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

You both stand on the porch, frozen, like some great frost has swept over the land. If Frankie squints, he can imagine the glitter of your eyeshadow, now fallen, dusted on your cheeks, is a collective of tiny constellations of ice. 

Your body is wracked with a shiver again, but when Frankie looks you in the eye, you’re burning up from the inside. He swallows.

If he could only make the steps towards you. If he could only will his heavy feet to move, if he could summon his nerves to do exactly what his brain says, he would already be in front of you. He would have your face in his hands, be able to look into your eyes to see that deep, hidden want again, and kiss you. Again and again and again, and he wouldn’t stop, because things like that shitty boyfriend of yours wouldn’t matter anymore.

No. The whole world would be glitter and stars and constellations of ice crystals.

And then you blink, smile softly, and wish him a goodnight.

When he can finally lift his foot to move, your door is already closed.

And in your denim eyes

I see that something's awry

And I see you’re weak

You don’t see Frankie for a while after that, always finding a way to brush off his attempts to hang out. 

At first he doesn’t worry too much about it. You’ve just moved back - you have a new job, a new place, new friends to get to know. Tanner. 

Frankie finds other things to do. He gets business cards made up for the flying school he’ll be setting up next month. He pilots people across the state, sometimes across the country. He sees the boys for drinks, even sees Jessa for a coffee. He starts to worry when they say their texts have gone mostly unanswered, and they haven’t seen you either.

It must be why he turns up on your front step one day, a six pack in hand. 

You open the door on the second ring of the doorbell, and Frankie finds himself rendered speechless. You look… different.

Tired and wary, a little thinner. And when he gets you chatting, you say you haven’t really been anywhere, done anything. You’ve been settling in, getting used to it. You have two beers each, but you seem on edge, like you’re waiting for a knock on the door. And then Frankie asks about Tanner, and your eyes linger on the entryway a little longer.

‘Yeah,’ you say, ‘He’s okay.’

Frankie’s jaw twitches, his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

‘Just okay?’ He asks. 

Because you should be excited. You should be gushing and giddy and falling in love. But you’re not.

‘Yeah,’ you shrug. ‘He’s good.’

There’s something in your eyes. Something which shrinks away, skitters back. Something drained, something sapped of life, of energy. Hurt, maybe. Fear, perhaps.

When Frankie thinks back now, he knows he should have pressed you harder. Maybe should have taken you to his, made you talk a little more for a little longer. Away from Tanner, the threat of his presence. But he didn’t. He didn’t.

And he hates himself for it.

When he comes around

I see you're fixin' to shine

And my face won't speak

When Frankie next sees you, you’ve had a hair cut, and there are deep, dark bags under your eyes. Both of these things worry him equally. 

Your beautiful hair that you’d been growing out since you were young, hair that you swore you’d never cut shorter than it was in seventh grade, when your mum had to chop it into a bob after you got gum caught in it. And here it is now, much shorter. 

Jessa says she likes it, and you give her a watery smile, a weak thank you. She asks where you had it done, when. She asks if you like it, and you shrug. You say you’re trying something new. You say Tanner likes it.

Over your shoulder, Frankie exchanges a look with Santi.

You’re quiet the whole time you're at the bar. Far too quiet, so far from the bubbly conversation you usually hold, your loud cackle, your bent-double amusement. Your affection for your friends - the hands on knees, arms around shoulders, kisses pressed to cheeks. It’s hardly there. 

Frankie offers to walk you home, but you wave him off kindly. Tanner’s picking me up, you say, he’s probably outside. Jessa frowns at you.

‘Are you sure, babe?’ She says. ‘It’s not even late yet.’

You smile and nod at her, gather your stuff to go. Jessa catches your arm.

‘We’re still on to go shopping Saturday, though - right?’ 

You smile at her, the first warm one you’ve mustered all night.

‘Of course,’ you say, ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ 

When you stand to leave, you hug everybody goodbye. Tightly, for longer than usual. Frankie doesn’t give you an option when he walks you out to Tanner’s car. The smug prick is hanging out the driver’s seat window. He watches Frankie as you walk up, hostile, threatening, arrogant, and somehow still ridiculous. And, Frankie thinks cruelly - ugly.

Frankie pulls you into his arms a few steps away from your boyfriend. He kisses your hair, and you sigh.

‘Have a good time on Saturday,’ he says softly. You twitch a smile at him. 

‘Thank you, Frankie.’ You say before stepping back and walking to open the passenger door. As you climb in, Tanner winks at him. 

‘Gettin’ a new one tomorrow,’ he says, stupid fucking grin on his face. ‘New car. Exciting stuff. Anyway, better get this one back,’ he says, squeezing your knee a little too hard. You don’t look at Frankie, something like humiliation colouring your cheeks. ‘See you around, Frank.’ Tanner says.

Frankie steps back from the car as it glides forwards, and he watches it disappear up the street. 

Deep anger burns in him. And a kind of fear. It crawls over his skin, cooling the sides of his neck. His heart churns uncomfortably in his chest.

He tells your friends about it when he returns to the table. And they form a plan. Jessa texts you a time she’ll pick you up on Saturday. You say you’re excited again, you need some new clothes.

But Frankie knows Jessa won’t take you shopping. 

No, she brings you here, to the beach, to the bonfire. To him, to Santi and Benny and Will. Because they’re worried.

So worried, they tell you.

They sit you down in one of the chairs around the fire, and they explain why they’re worried. They tell you they love you - so much - and they just need to know if you’re okay. Because they can help. They want to help, want you out of this, because he’s not good for you. The silence, the hair, the clothes you were going to buy. They tell you they hate the way he doesn’t let you speak, how he speaks to you. And you are so quiet through all of it, Frankie begins to get more worried. He speaks to you gently over the fire, but you can’t meet his eye. He tells you his worries, their love for you again. He swallows down his own confession, anything to make you see. How they don’t want you pushed closer to him, want you to be pulled closer to them instead.

But your eyes are so vacant, so far away, that Jessa leaves her deckchair next to you to sit on the burned up log closer to you on your other side. She takes your hands, and you finally, finally look at her. You open your mouth, and you say so quietly -

‘You’re right. You’re right.’ 

It feels like the biggest gulp of oxygen Frankie has ever taken. He feels lightheaded from the relief, from the knowledge. They were right, they were right, which is a terrible, terrible thing.

Will clears his throat, and Frankie looks at him to see similar thoughts flicking over his face like film reel. He licks his lips, opens his mouth, and -

Hate to be so emotional

I didn't aim to get physical

But when he pulled in and revved it up

I said, ‘You call that a pickup truck?’

And in the moonlight I throwed him down

Kickin', screamin' and rollin' around

A little piece of a bloody tooth

Just so you know I was thinking of you

Whatever Will is about to say is cut short by the sweep of headlights over the brush near the dunes. 

A beat up old pickup truck bumps up the track and pulls up alongside Will’s Ranger. The driver’s side window slides down, and Tanner’s face emerges from the gloom. He revs the engine loudly, making you and Jessa jump. A sick feeling curls in Frankie’s stomach as he watches him, this piece of shit who’s been so busy crushing you down. 

Tanner leaps out of the truck, and slams the door. Frankie looks over at you, visibly panicked on the other side of the fire. How the fuck did he find you?

‘Hey baby,’ Tanner says, sickly sweet as he strolls towards you, ducking to press a kiss to your unresponsive mouth. He turns to the rest of the group, eyes skating over Will and Ben until they land on Frankie. Tanner steps towards him, offers his hand.

‘Good to see you again, Frank,’ he says, ‘Told you I’d be getting a new ride.’ 

Frankie stares at his hand. He takes a deep swig of his beer, breathing deeply before looking Tanner in the eye, refusing to shake it.

‘I’m surprised to see you.’ He says to the dirty-haired man.

Tanner tries his best to appear unfazed, but there’s a glimmer of something hot behind his eyes.

‘’Course man, wanted to show off the new pickup.’ He says, grinning broadly. He looks around again, eyes falling hungrily on Jessa. She shifts uncomfortably on the log, rearranging her body so there’s less for him to look at. A deep heat begins to rise in Frankie’s chest.

He glances again at the ancient car that Tanner’s driven up in. The front bumper almost hanging off, the red paint aged and scratched, bumps caved in all up the sides, the roof sagging. 

‘You call that a pickup truck?’ Frankie says lightly. Tanner narrows his eyes at him, angry, before he catches the sound of Santi’s laugh.

He whirls around to the other man and spits -

‘Who the fuck are you?’

Frankie almost laughs, too. Almost.

Pope spreads his hands. He looks up at him through his brows, a glint in his eyes that Frankie is violently familiar with. You must notice it, too, because you clear your throat and say -

‘Santi’s one of my friends.’

Tanner doesn’t even look at you. Just keeps staring at Pope. 

The moment seems to last an eternity. Frankie feels like he’s watching everything through sludge, like he’s in someone else’s dream. His whole body is on edge, vibrating, ready to lunge - he’s just not sure at who. He looks between the two men before he catches your eye through the flames. The adrenaline in Frankie’s heart gutters at the look of panic in your eyes.

Please don’t let them do this. Please help me stop it.

Frankie glances back to Pope, and says, so softly only he can hear it -

‘Pope.’ 

And Santi immediately looks away, taking a swig of his beer.

Tanner stands there still, clearly baffled at Santi’s sudden lack of interest. Then he turns to the rest of the group like a petulant child, a toddler who has been ostensibly robbed of its favourite toy.

‘It’s a good truck,’ he says, before turning to you. ‘Ain’t it, baby?’

You hum your agreement as Tanner scoops a beer from the pile by Will’s chair, shucking off the top with his teeth. Jessa looks away, disgusted. He settles himself in the deckchair at your side.

‘Y’aint allowed to touch it, of course, sugar,’ he says to you, before laughing into his bottle. ‘Ruin everything you come into, anyway. Root of all my problems, ain’t ya?’ Tanner takes a pull of his beer. The group is silent around him. Around you. Tanner notices.

‘Boy, fun bunch you are.’ 

You look at him through your eyelashes.

‘Baby, that’s enough.’ You say as softly as possible, and Frankie cringes at the pet name. 

Tanner looks at you sharply. Dark, furious. It’s in the pinch of his jaw, the anger at what you’ve said so obviously rolling around in his skull.

Frankie hates him for it. And he hates that he hates him for it. There are already so many things he hates him for, but he’s so fucking stupid it’s almost funny. Not your equal in any way. In kindness, in conversation or in intellect. And not even willing to try. To learn. For you. Just trying to dumb you down instead, squash you into smaller, more digestible bites to chew on. 

When it comes down to it, Tanner has nothing smart to say back. He just pushes a short breath from his nostrils and mutters out a little -

‘Well, well, well.’

Then he flexes his fingers against the chair, and you flinch. 

You flinch hard, your brows coming together, chin scrunching, waiting for the blow to land. And when it doesn’t, your eyes flicker open slowly. Hollow, bereft, drained and dim. 

Tanner hasn’t noticed, but everyone else has.

The awful unveiling of your last secret.

Frankie forces the bile down his throat. His head swings forward to the ground of its own accord, a faint, resonant ringing in his ears. When he looks at his hands, they aren’t his own. In fact, he recognises no part of his body as the ringing gets louder, as he gently places his beer bottle on the floor. When his eyes leave the dirt, the mix of faces around the fire are all mirror reflections of each other. Horror, disgust, grief. Grief that this is what you hid from them, this is what they have taken too long to pull you from. The burning building splintering around you, your shell of a body immovable in the middle. 

You won’t meet his eye. You won’t meet anyone’s eye as your hand shakes around your bottle. Jessa notices. She stares at your trembling fingers for too long, but she can hardly say anything. None of them can. Her eyes shine like beacons from her seat, wet with tears. Frankie sees her bottom lip quiver, her chin dimple. And then she swallows, swallows again, and reaches for your hand.

You flinch again, softer this time, and Frankie is sure everyone around the fire - everyone in the town, the world, must hear his heart crack. Because he feels it so keenly, so deeply, that it takes the air from his lungs. His breath is caught in his throat, and no matter how hard he tries to draw it, it seems impossible to claw it down. He’s drowning. He’s drowning right here in front of everybody, and it makes it all the worse to know that this is how you must feel. Every damn day.

Come on, he hears Jessa say, Let’s go and get another drink. And through the dark swirling of his mind he watches the two of you stand slowly and disappear towards the back of Frankie’s truck. He waits until Jessa has you hidden from view, her arms around your hunched back as you bring your hands to your face - crying - and that’s when the thread snaps.

Frankie gets to his feet, slowly.

Pope and Will watch him. Benny is still staring at Tanner.

Tanner looks up at him, chin jutted out, smirking as Frankie approaches. 

He’s challenging him. He’s waiting for a war of words, for the shouting to begin, for the insults, the observations to fly.

He expected the wrong war from a soldier.

The first punch sprawls him out of his seat. It makes a satisfying cracking sound, and the first trickle of blood starts to bleed from behind his lip.

Then Frankie kicks him. He kicks him hard in the ribs, making sure he doesn’t have enough time to recover from the punch to deflect Frankie’s boot. 

Tanner clutches at his abdomen, wheezing, gazing up at Frankie with bewildered eyes. Fucking coward.

Frankie grabs him by the front of his shirt, pulls him upwards. He has nothing to say to him, but the fury he feels, this deep, endless, swirling pit of rage, he lets him see. He lets it fill him from the soles of his feet all the way up through his eyes, and he lets it bleed out. He lets the blackness flood the ground. He lets Tanner watch it, lets it petrify him, and then Frankie swings again. Tanner takes it on his chin this time, his jaw snapping closed, and when it goes lax, a couple jagged bits of tooth fall out. Frankie grunts in satisfaction and swings again, again, until blood spouts from Tanner’s eyebrow and his cheek begins to bruise and swell. Frankie breathes deeply, in rhythm, doesn’t even feel it when Tanner manages to land a lucky punch to his eye socket. He plants a knee into the other man’s crotch, lands him an elbow to the back of his head when he keels over, and then shoves him to the ground. Frankie gets on the floor with him, raining blows down on Tanner’s body, his face. He’s methodical about it, a punch to each eye, the crack of the cunt’s nose, one to either side of his mouth, then bloodying up his jaw. He’s aware, somewhere, that Tanner is screaming. Strangled, gargling sounds trying to claw up his throat. And then he’s aware of two pairs of hands around each armpit, dragging him away, pulling him up. Will is saying something in his ear, that’s enough, Frankie, alright now, and Benny is speaking, too, panicked - you’ll kill him, Fish, come on man.

Frankie blinks, really looks at Tanner where he lays bleeding on the dirt. His eyes already swelling, a couple more teeth scattered on the ground next to him. His face different shades of red and purple, a mess of a man, and Frankie is pleased. He could keep going. He wants to see him bleed much, much more. Will and Benny keep their grip on him.

‘Leave,’ Frankie growls, low, without a quiver in his voice. ‘And don’t you ever come back. You ever look at her again, I’ll gouge out your fuckin’ eyes. You ever touch her again, I’ll break every bone in your body. I’ll make sure they don’t find anything left of you.’

Tanner doesn’t say anything, which must be the only smart thing he’s ever done in his life. But he still doesn’t move.

The four men watch him for a moment, the silence heavy, broken only by the crackle of wood and Tanner’s heavy, wet breaths.

Then Benny lets Frankie go, steps forward and picks the man up by his collar, swinging him around to the direction of his truck. He throws him down on the dirt.

‘Move,’ he spits. ‘Get out of here. And if you have the courage on the way, wrap your fucking truck around a telephone pole.’

Tanner finally has the good sense to crawl over to the vehicle. He hauls himself up the scarred body work before creaking open the driver’s door and slipping inside. The truck sputters to life, yellow bulbs flooding the bonfire site again before it quickly backs away, turns, and drives off. Frankie watches its blinking red brake lights until he’s sure the cunt is gone, and then he turns around.

You’re stood with Santi’s arms wrapped around you, back from the fire where Tanner’s blood is drying. Pope strokes your hair, squeezes you tightly as your body shudders. And Frankie can only stare. 

Minutes might have passed. Hours. And Frankie is terrified. Terrified that he’s scared you, broken you, pushed you away. And then you turn your face on Pope’s chest, moving your head from shoulder to shoulder, and you’re looking at him. Eyes red-rimmed and raw, face flushed and damp, and it’s like Frankie’s trance breaks.

Frightened, he takes a step forward. He breathes your name.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, and you shake your head. Fuck. What has he done? What has he allowed himself to do? ‘I’m sorry, querida, please - I know, I know -’ but what does he know? He looks to Santi, pleading for help, and the man offers him a small smile as you step out of his arms. 

Through a fog, you come towards him. Your chin wobbles. Your eyes swim. You’re a little wide-eyed, a little shocked. And something else, something beyond his reach. 

You get to him, and your arms make their silken way around his middle as you begin to cry. Hot tears stain the front of his shirt, and he cradles you to him, holding your skull gently, enveloping your abdomen. A loud sob looses from your ribs.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers, ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’ You wrap your arms around him tighter, press your nose into his sternum.

‘I’m not scared of you, Frankie,’ you sob into his chest. He clutches at the back of your head, holds you even closer, strokes your hair. When you speak again your voice is higher, strained with your tears. ‘I could never be scared of you.’

The sting in Frankie’s throat becomes hot, burning. He doesn’t know whether to pull you impossibly closer or to push you away, to run as far as he can from your broken, heaving body in his arms. Because what he’s done should scare you. It should. He’d lost all control. The only thing he’d been able to see, to feel was his all-consuming, depthless fury. And Tanner’s face as it splintered, bloodied, swelled. And he’d wanted to keep going, until there was just pulp. No nerve endings, no teeth, no eyes, no mouth, no body that he could ever hurt you with again. He doesn’t want you to hurt any more.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers into your hair.

Trembling misery

And as cold as a hole

I hug your bones and skin

Frankie holds your hand the whole way home, the drive passing in a dazed silence.

You still don’t talk when you get to his place, when he unlocks the door, lets you in, and locks it behind him. You take his hand in the quiet cool of the house, lead him upstairs. He follows, slowly, sore, exhausted. Trying to process it all.

When you reach the landing, you turn on the bathroom light, and he trails behind you. He stands propped against the sink as you dig around in his medicine cabinet, finding wipes and bandages and anything else you think might be useful. You take Frankie’s hand again, examine his bruised, bleeding and swollen knuckles with solemn eyes. You are so gentle, twisting his hand in the light, inspecting. You look over it for a while, and Frankie watches you. When you reach for an antiseptic wipe, your hand is shaking.

Frankie winces silently when you start to dab at the blood on his knuckles, cleaning it away with minute swipes. You chase the dried rivulets of blood down his fingers, over his palm. The scar there from when he ate shit riding his bike.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. You ignore him, breathing shallowly as you inspect his hand, holding his wrist, cleaning blood which is no longer there.

‘Might be a hairline fracture or two,’ you say, distant. ‘I won’t bandage it, gonna let it dry out first. But you’ll need to rest it. And we’ll need to ice your eye.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he says again, into your hair. You shake your head, and the light catches the different colours in every strand. Frankie’s throat tightens.

‘Please stop apologising.’ You whisper.

A shaky breath pushes itself from between Frankie’s lips.

‘No, querida,’ he says softly, ‘It wasn’t right. Shouldn’t have done it. And I shouldn’t have let you see -’ he swallows thickly, throat bobbing. He looks over your head at the white tiles behind you as your grip on his wrist tightens. You still don't look up at him. ‘But it’s not how you treat someone you love. Not how it should be. Should be protecting them, treating them right, loving them the way you love -’ him. He cuts himself off, because he realises as he says it he’s wrong. So wrong.

Right to be like you in your gentleness. In your care, your touch, your tenderness, your loving. But Tanner deserved none of those things. He didn’t deserve your faith, didn’t deserve your protection or your silence either. None of it. 

He closes his eyes.

An image of you flickers through Frankie’s mind. Your fingers on his wrist as they are now, your eyes shining under the streetlights. The glint of your teeth, and the want so clear on your face, then the hesitation, the fear, the shuttering - 

And if only he had kissed you then. If only you had taken him inside. He could have shown you what it was supposed to feel like. He could have saved you from the hurt, the fear which lay ahead.

There’s a splash of warmth on the pale skin of the underside of his forearm, and he opens his eyes again. You’re still hunched over his hand, but your movements have stilled. Frankie waits, confused, before another warm drop lands on his arm and you hiccup a sob out. He whispers out your name, and you turn your face up to him, devastated.

Frankie’s face crumples, and your grip on his wrist loosens enough for him to lift his hands to your face and cup your cheeks.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said it. I wasn’t thinking -’

‘You think I love him?’ You croak.

Frankie’s jaw works around his next sentence, his next thoughts. He tries to process what this means. That look in your eyes, your tears, your implication. His lips move, but no sound comes out.

‘I don’t love him, Frankie,’ you choke, ‘I don’t. Christ - I don’t think I ever did, I never could -’ you suck in a deep, stuttered breath. ‘I’ve never - never hated anyone more. I couldn’t stand him, couldn’t have him near me, couldn’t have him touch me -’ Frankie flinches at your words. ‘But I was so scared. And embarrassed. I didn’t know how to leave - I didn’t know how to tell anybody about what was going on. I was terrified of what he’d do. To me, to you guys, if he found out I’d spoken about it. And he made it so hard for me to see you, so hard for me to get away.’ You sob now, panic and relief forcing out your words. ‘I thought - wherever I go, he’ll find me. He’ll track me down, and he’ll bring me back - and somehow - somehow that was worse than if he tracked me down and - and - I don’t know, killed me or something -’

Frankie’s eyes shutter. He can’t even follow your thought, so awful is the image, the gaping emptiness. He pulls you close, he lets you cry. Curled into his chest, your body wracking with tears, shaking, tense and uncontrollable, the sounds you make rooting in his brain. They file themselves away in a box where very few things go. Deployment. Tom. The darkness after his investigation. You break and break in his arms, and it’s all he can do to hold the pieces of you together. To press kisses to your head, breathe in the smell of your hair, rub his hands over your back, cradle you like a child. 

He doesn’t know how long the two of you stand there for. He waits until you stop sobbing, stop crying softly, stop hiccuping, stop sniffing. He waits for a few more minutes in the silence, too. And when he pulls away, he presses a long, sweet kiss to your forehead. 

You blink up at him through red, swollen eyes.

‘You’re safe here.’ He says, and you nod.

‘I know. Thank you. For - everything.’ You say thickly. Frankie swallows, nods. You know it all anyway. Any time, for however long you need.

He pads downstairs to get you a glass of water, and while he’s pouring it, he can hear you blow your nose, wash your face. Somehow, they are the most perfect sounds in the world.

Crackling wood’s gone white

And my eye swole up now

I can see the light

Frankie gives you one of his sleep-stretched t-shirts and an old pair of shorts for you to wear to bed. 

The clothes dwarf you a little, and he can’t wipe the small, thrilled smile from his face, even when he looks away. You look fucking adorable. 

You giggle at him every time you see it, your little what? only making him smile harder. It stretches his mouth until it hurts and his cheeks start to cramp up, squishing his swollen eye. Stop he tries to say, but it comes out as an equally breathless huff of laughter - and that only makes you giggle more. So much so that he sweeps you up into his arms to stash you under the covers, and you laugh even harder as he tucks the sheets in tight around you, just like his mama used to do when she wanted him to stay put. 

He looks down at you from the side of the bed, hands on his hips, and you laugh back at him - eyes shining, mouth open in wide hoots of delight, your hands coming up in a desperate attempt to contain yourself. He points a finger at you.

‘You need to calm down,’ he says, voice tight with bridled amusement. ‘It’s bedtime.’

But you cackle back at him, this glorious puddle of sunshine in his bed, only howls of laughter for a response. Unable to help himself, he returns your joy, turning off the bedside lamps to slip in beside you.

In the darkness, your snorts subside into ragged breaths, and you turn on your side to look at him. You study him as though you never want to forget a single line on his face; such warmth, such affection in your eyes that Frankie’s whole body swells and lifts.

You take his hand beneath the sheets and hold it between your faces, smiling softly at him.

The first and only girl he’s really ever loved. This brilliant, fierce, bright, intelligent woman damped down by the waste of fucking space who had bled by the fire. At the thought of it, Frankie feels his heart fall out of his chest, down through the floorboards, and plummet towards the middle of the earth.

And finally, he begins to cry.

He tries to stop it, he really does. It’s selfish, he thinks, so awful and selfish to cry in front of you when it’s you who should be wrapped in his arms, swept away by emotion again if you needed to be, safe and warm and unworried, never having to fret about anything again.

But he can’t stop it. It comes out in great shuddering breaths - pained, wracked sounds slipping past his lips, and he can’t help it. He tries to gather them in his hands to shove them back in his mouth, tries to scoop them in his arms and press them back into the caving ache of his chest, but he can’t.

When Frankie was a child, he saw his dad cry once. Only once, and exactly like this, after his father’s brother was killed in a car accident. He had seen it through a crack in his parents’ bedroom door, and it had hurt him. It had wounded him, as a child, to see his father break with such grief, such pain, such emptiness, and to know there was nothing he could do about it. And now, he is split into those two people - younger self, older self - as he thinks of you lying next to him on the bed. This person who he loves so much, who is now so full of the knowledge of the worst parts of living, wound up so tight within you that you let it settle, let it unfurl around your bones. He sees your hurt, your grief, your pain refracted around him tenfold, and he hurts with you. He sees you as the boy he once was, this poor creature looking in at a heart breaking, as he has unknowingly watched yours break for months.

And he’s so sorry, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to stop saying it.

But here you are, still, performing the ultimate act of kindness. Comfort.

He feels the mattress move as you slide closer to him, and then your hand is on his back, swooping in gentle movements. He feels the scrabble of your fingers under the ribs he has pressed into the bed, the pressure of your arm moving under him so you can hold him properly. Frankie sobs harder, but he opens his body to you. You press closer to him, burying your face in his neck, and he breathes you in as he cries. Your scent is here, you are here. And like you heard him, you whisper -

‘It’s okay, Frankie. It’s okay. ’M here. I’m safe.’ And this realisation allows a little more air, but it doesn’t make Frankie’s guilt, his shame any better. But you’re right, he knows it. And somewhere in his crying, this turns his gasps to tears of relief. Softly, you retract your arms from around him.

You take his hands away from his face, and kiss the palms. You kiss each fingertip, each bruised and cracked knuckle. You lean forward and press a kiss to each tear, each trail of saltwater on his face. And you are so beautiful in the moonlight. Soft and wide eyed. Safe. Kind, always kind, and full of understanding. Frankie sees now that you have been crying against him, too, your eyelashes cloyed with tears. Sees his thoughts in your eyes as though you have had each of them zip to you through the air. When you were a child, you saw your dad cry once. Only once, and exactly like this, after…

A smile breaks through your eyes, chasing away the remnants of tears, glazing down, softening your lips. 

And Frankie doesn’t think this time. His feet don’t fail him. He doesn’t think of stars or glitter or constellations of ice crystals. He just kisses you. And kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. And he doesn’t stop, because nothing else matters anymore.

You’re safe. You’re warm. You’re in his bed. 

You’re here.

You tip your head back, deepening the kiss, licking into Frankie’s mouth. He gives in so easily to you he’s almost ashamed. But then your fingers clutch at him, ball at the bottom of his shirt, tangle in the thick of his hair, and all his thoughts are forgotten. He feels you slip a soft, strong leg over his, pulling him forward. You groan against him, and Frankie’s cock twitches. You feel it, you must do, as you pull your body closer to him, tight against him. Frankie is so lightheaded he doesn’t know where his hands are, what they’re doing - and when he concentrates, he finds them skating over your back, squeezing the tension out of the back of your neck, gripping your hip.

He moans against you as you rock your hips over his thigh, as he feels the heat of your sex against his skin. He feels like he’s on fire.

You slip a hand under his sleep shorts and palm him, brushing his silken length with two fingers, feeling him grow harder, thicker against you. You take him in your hand, pump him once, twice with the perfect grip, the perfect speed, like you were made for him. He’s gasping against you, panting as you suck his lower lip into your mouth.

‘Baby,’ he groans, breathless, ‘We don’t have to. We really don’t -’

You look up at him through gorgeous, glazed eyes.

‘I want to,’ you say, ‘Do you?’

Dangerous, dangerous question. 

Frankie tries to shake his head, look away, think of anything but the tight fist of your fingers around his cock.

‘I do,’ he says, ‘I do. But I don’t think - this is the right thing -’

You loosen your grip, draw away from him. His body aches with a shudder.

His eyes flick back to yours again - confused, hurt - fuck, he can’t do that to you, ever -

‘I - I don’t want to take advantage of it - of you,’ he says. Your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks as you look down the sheets towards your toes. His jaw tightens. ‘And - and I don’t want this to mean - different things for us. I don’t want it to ruin what we have.’ Frankie breathes out heavily through his nose. He has to tell you now. He has to. ‘I don’t want it to mean different things, because I love you. I always have. And if we do this, if I have you even just for a night, I - I’ll never recover from it.’ Tears spike in his eyes again. He tries to smile. ‘You’d ruin me. And I don’t think I’d ever forgive you for it.’

Your breath hitches in your throat, and Frankie watches as your eyes flit back up to his. They search his face, the dribble of his barely-shed tears, the slope of his sad smile. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, running your thumb over his scraps of beard. He closes his eyes.

‘What you said earlier,’ you begin. Frankie swallows. He waits for the blow of rejection. ‘About me - about me loving him.’ He opens his eyes slowly to find yours, bright and clear. Something begs to bubble over in them. Something golden and warm. ‘You were wrong - obviously. And I couldn’t tell you truly why, because I was afraid. So afraid of pushing you away, even though I think that’s all I’ve ever done. I’ve never thought I was worth it, Frankie. I don’t deserve you. And I am terrified of how much I love you.’ You beam at him, eyes bubbling over with that thing - love - ‘I love you,’ you say simply, like it’s not the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. 

A stunned little laugh ripples up his throat, and you copy it. He grips your face in his hands, and kisses you again, again, again.

‘I love you,’ he says.

‘I love you, too,’ you giggle.

‘And you are,’ he presses to your lips, ‘You are absolutely worth it.’

He rolls over on top of you, and begins to kiss your jaw, nipping at the skin there, before moving down your throat. He kisses you with a hot, open mouth, sucking marks into the sensitive skin at your pulse point. Mine, he groans, and you whimper against him, rubbing your thighs together.

Frankie pushes your shirt up - his shirt - so he can bite at your chest, press kisses to every bit of exposed skin. Every single part of you that deserves to be loved, every single place which has so far been unknown to him. He sucks each nipple into his mouth, delighted when you keen beneath him, panting, please, please Frankie, before he sinks lower down, peeling his shorts away from you to expose your glistening cunt. 

He groans, unable to take his eyes away from it as he leans forward, pressing his body into the mattress to lick a stripe from your asshole to your clit.

‘Frankie -’ you groan down at him as he begins to work at you, sucking and licking, nipping at your thigh before slipping his tongue into your hole, swiping and tasting everything you’re giving to him. He grinds himself into the mattress, hissing at the relief, the uncomfortable weight of his cock dragging below him.

‘Taste so good, baby,’ he tells you, and he doesn’t think he ever wants to taste, wants to smell anything else ever again. All he can do is eat at you, breathe you in, until you’re begging him -

‘Frankie, your fingers - please -’ And he flexes his hand at your hip before brushing a fingertip against your entrance and gasping at the pain. 

You try to bear down towards him, but he rips his hand away, lifting his head towards you.

‘Can’t,’ he gasps, and you mewl, bucking your hips up to his face, desperate. ‘Hand’s fucked,’ he says, and you still your movements before beginning to laugh again. It’s loud and from your belly, and it's bizarre. But Frankie gets it. He gets it, and he giggles too. He doesn’t try to fuck his broken knuckles into you, but he does try to continue lathing you with his tongue. You’re making it pretty fucking difficult, though.

‘Stop laughing,’ he huffs against your clit, ‘I’m trying to make you come.’

‘Okay,’ you say, gasping for air, ‘Okay. I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. You’re doing really well, by the way.’ But this only makes him laugh. He groans, leaning his forehead against your inner thigh. ‘This is impossible.’ He pouts.

‘Nooo,’ you cry, leaning up on your elbows to pout down at him. ‘Please, baby. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. I won’t laugh anymore.’

‘Promise?’ He says. You hold out your pinky to him.

‘Pinky promise.’ You say.

Frankie stretches his hand out to you and tries to extend his pinky. He winces at the sharp pain which shoots from the movement, and grunts at you, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

‘You bastard,’ he says, trying and failing to hold his smile, ‘You knew I wouldn’t be able to do that.’

‘Just keeping you on your toes,’ you grin, and then before you can make any more smart remarks, Frankie resumes his ministrations, lapping and tonguing at your clit, your hole, mouthing hot, wet kisses to your pussy. He shakes his head from side to side, running your bud in tight, hard little circles until you’re a moaning, whimpering mess beneath him. Your hips buck unconsciously, and Frankie hooks both his arms around your thighs to hold you down, flattening his hands against your belly to keep you firmly in place. He reaches up to twist at your nipples and you gasp. 

‘God, Frankie, tongue feels so fucking good -’ 

He can feel you begin to pulse against his chin as your whines get higher in pitch, and he groans as you twist handfuls of his hair.

‘Come on, baby,’ he says, ‘Give it to me. Wanna see you come, querida. Wanna taste it. Come on my face.’

And you do, the sensation of it arching your back tight like a bow, a strangled moan cutting off into the ceiling.

‘Fuck, Frankie, fuck -’ as he drives you through it, nodding and murmuring against you as you try to wriggle free, squealing in protest until you manage to twist a leg and set a foot against his chest, pushing him off. 

‘Fucking - hell -’ You pant, and Frankie grins down at you, smug.

‘Good?’ He asks, quirking an eyebrow.

‘Oh, fuck you, Morales.’ You laugh, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, moaning when you taste yourself on him. Your tongue explores every part of his mouth, every crevice behind every tooth, like you can’t get enough of him. Like there'll never be enough of him. ‘Now fuck me.’ You whisper.

And Frankie does not need to be told twice.

He rips his shirt up and off his back, shucks his shorts down his legs, and squeezes himself tight as he can in his left hand. He ruts into his palm, thumb swiping to slick his heavy beads of precum down his length.

‘Ready?’ he asks, looking down to find you staring wide-eyed at his cock. It twitches under your gaze.

‘What?’ He says, and you shake your head in quiet disbelief and amusement. You lift your eyes back to his face, and they are so dark with arousal he almost melts into the mattress.

‘Nothing,’ you shrug. ‘Just somehow never believed Pope and the boys when they said it was like two coke cans put together.’ 

‘Jesus Christ.’ Frankie laughs, his face pulling tight with a grin as he lines himself up at your entrance, swilling the head in your arousal.

‘I mean, what if it doesn’t fit?’ You babble, and he shakes his head.

‘It’ll fit, baby,’ he says. ‘We’ll make it fit.’ Then he sinks the first inch in, and just waits. He waits and watches you, watches as your mouth falls slack, all the smart things coming out your mouth grinding to a halt. He throbs at how tight you are around him, at how you clench already, trying to suck him in further. And fuck, you are so wet.

‘You okay, querida?’ He asks through gritted teeth.

You manage a nod, a broken whine escaping you.

‘Move Frankie, please baby -’ you beg, and he groans as he pushes further inside you, watching the obscene stretch of your pussy around him, the way it pulses, the way it gets wetter and warmer and tighter around him. When he bottoms out, he feels the hot rush of his orgasm leap towards him a little too quickly.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he breathes, closing his eyes just to make sure he doesn’t come right away. You squirm beneath him, canting your hips up, trying to fuck yourself. Frankie grips you, gritting his teeth. ‘Stay still,’ he hisses, flushing a little. ‘God, fuck, please - just for a minute.’ He opens his eyes to find you watching him, your bottom lip caught in your teeth. His eyes glaze down your body - his t-shirt bunched up around your chest, perfect tits, perfect belly, and your sweet, sopping cunt split open on his cock. 

He groans again, slipping out, watching as he retreats, soaked by you, before pushing back in. A high pitched whine leaves your lips, and you twitch your hands up to play with your tits. Frankie doesn’t think he’s ever seen something more sexy in his life.

‘That’s right,’ he says, ‘Keep playing with yourself like that, gorgeous. Look at you.’

So you do, looking up at him with doe-eyes as he fucks into you, soft at first, letting you adjust before quickening his pace, readjusting his angle, feeling you leak around him. His balls slap against your ass loudly, and you keen up at him, eyes wide, begging for something as you tighten like a coil around him, something you can’t quite voice. But Frankie knows.

He swipes his thumb against your clit, and your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching again. He groans at the sight, and works the bundle of nerve endings in tight circles, faster and harder, harder and faster, until you’re gripping him so tight he thinks you might push him out.

‘Come baby, come,’ he pants, ‘Please, querida, need to feel you - need to feel you soak me. Need you to come for me, come on this cock, baby, please -’

And he groans, long and loud as you clench and pulse around him, milking him, pulling him impossible deeper - fuck, Frankie, oh my god, feels so fucking good - the delicious pressure at the base of his spine at breaking point as he fucks you through it, as he pants and gasps -

‘Come, Frankie,’ you plead, ‘Please - want you, need you -’ and he spills himself deep inside you, hips stuttering, eyes clamping shut, overwhelmed and short circuited. He’s never known it could feel like this - good to the end of every synapse - and he’s fucking it in with three long thrusts, pulling out slowly just to watch it dribble out of you as he twitches against his thigh. He thumbs your clit just to watch you seize and sigh against him, then sits back on his knees to look at you.

‘You are something else,’ he says in disbelief.

You smile lazily at him.

‘Ain’t so bad yourself, Morales,’ and he laughs, throwing himself down next to you, kissing anywhere he can. I love you, I love you, I love you. Safe.

You lay there for a while afterwards, just feeling each other, calming your ragged breathing. Eventually, Frankie rises from the bed to grab a washcloth, coming back and swiping between your legs tenderly, gently, before collapsing back into bed and pulling you into his chest.

He feels like he’s in space, and he tells you as much. He spills secrets like a child at a sleepover. He tells you about the glitter and the stars and the constellations of ice crystals. You match him with a galaxy of feeling spanning the time he’s known you. And he feels that this is a dream, this love which floats like a nebula within the bed. He tries to keep his eyes open for as long as possible, even as you sleep. And even when he does drift off, he dreams of you. He dreams of you sparkling with stardust, waiting for him with your arms open.

When he wakes the next morning, you’re still there. Safe, soft and warm against him, furled into his ribcage, heart beating against the hand that’s pressed against your chest.

Everything’s okay. That red thread still intact, after all.

When the sun rises, bloody and mild, it’s never been so sweet.

A little piece of a bloody tooth

Just so you know I was thinking of you

[withahappyrefrain]

Deserve it (Bob Floyd x reader)

Summary: After working hard, your boyfriend gives you several rewards.

Warnings: older BF Bob, slight daddy kink, definitely some dd/lg vibes in here, older BF Bob eats it from the back okay, fingering, language

“Hey sweet girl,” his voice was deep, the gravel showing off his age. The very sound made your knees nearly buckle.

Not that you had to worry about falling; Bob already had one arm wrapped around your waist, the other draped around your leg, long fingers gently tracing the soft flesh of your bare thigh.

His broad chest was pressed against your back, salt and pepper stubble gently brushing against your temple.

Despite feeling so small in his arms, you had never felt more secure.

When Natasha invited you to her co -worker's barbeque a year ago, you knew it was done out of politeness. You had just moved to the area and her sister, your best friend, wanted to make sure you were actually going out and meeting folks. Nat was doing you a favor, nothing more or less.

You just wanted to get through that night, to beat your anxiety over being the youngest person there by nearly a decade. The most you were expecting that night was a few conversations and drinks.

Meeting a real life prince charming that night was not on your Bingo card.

At first, you thought Bob was just being a good host as he spoke to you. That was the polite thing to do, considering he was in his late thirties and you were just a friend of a friend.

Even when he asked for your number, you tried to be realistic. You had been led on before, had placed your whole heart in someone just to be disappointed.

A year later, Bob had more than proved he was serious about his relationship with you. The age difference didn't make a huge impact, aside from childhood references and social media knowledge.

Bob was patient. He understood you hadn't been in a serious relationship until he came along. He was more than happy to guide you, never making you feel stupid or unworthy.

“Hi Robby,” you giggled, feeling his skin heat up at your special nickname. Only you got to call him that, just like only he got to call you his sweet girl.

Bob continued peppering your jaw with light kisses, his large hands continuing to gently stroke your exposed skin.

“How was your day? Did your presentation go well?” His attention to detail was one of the things you loved most about Bob. He was invested in all aspects of your life.

“It did! They're going with my proposal.” It was impossible to hide your wide grin, especially when Bob spun you around to show the matching one on his face.

You only saw that slightly crooked, honey drenched smile for a brief moment, as Bob pressed his lips against yours.

Despite dating for a year, his kisses still made your heart flutter. His hands would cradle your jaw, practically covering the entirety of your neck. He always bent his knees, not wanting you to strain yourself while trying to reach his lips, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind.

“Knew they would,” He murmured against your lips, “So proud of you, my smart girl.”

Your knees practically buckled at the praise. Some would have felt it was condescending, you disagreed. You loved that Bob was proud of you. In fact, you wanted it, wanted to be his good girl.

“Stay here, wanna show ya something.” Bob pressed a gentle peck to your lips before walking out of the bathroom.

You bit your tongue, holding back a comment about Bob buying you things. It was a battle you'd never win. Bob spent his money on you and Lego sets, and that was how he preferred it.

So when he showed you the tennis bracelet he had purchased, you just smiled. No comment on how his money would have been better spent elsewhere.

“May I?” He motioned to your wrist. You held it out so he could gently place it on your wrist. While it was simple, you knew the diamonds would sparkle once you were in light.

Once the bracelet was secure on your wrist, you threw your arms around Bob’s neck, head buried in his broad chest.

“Thanks Daddy.”

You could hear him sharply inhale through his nose, the nickname always drawing a visible reaction out of him.

“‘Course baby,” his hands moved from your back down to your hips, “Did you eat breakfast today?”

You nodded proudly, “And lunch!”

Bob dipped his head down to press a kiss on your forehead, “Been so good today sweet girl. Think you deserve a reward for it.”

You looked at your bracelet, confused, “I thought this was-”

Bob shook his head, a near Cheshire like grin on his face, “That's just because I wanted to. So tell me sweet girl, do you want a reward?”

You tentatively nod your head, heat flooding your face, “yes please.”

He's pleased that he didn't have to remind you to use your words. Bob places one last kiss to your temple before spinning you around, forcing you to face the bathroom counter.

Without even thinking, you lean forward, your chest brushing against the marbled counter.

Bob hums in approval. You've learned quickly.

He quickly kneels down, his large hands trailing up your bare thighs. He's able to effortlessly spread your legs apart, pushing up the hem of your skirt to reveal your bare cunt.

“Been such a good listener baby. So proud of you,” he cooed, holding back a chuckle at how your legs trembled at the praise.

You were so sweet, always wanting to be good for him. It had taken you some time, the idea of being with someone who truly loved you and wanted the best for you was a new concept.

You shuddered upon feeling his breath against your core. Unable to see him, all you can rely on is touch. His deft fingers gently parted your soaked folds, sending sparks throughout your body.

Your body lurched forward when Bob's mouth made contact with your entrance.

Prior to Bob, you didn't know someone could be so enthusiastic when it came to giving oral. It was always seen as something required before sex, not an act that could be enjoyed on its own.

Then you met Bob.

Bob, who cared about your pleasure more than his own. Bob, who didn't view sex as a thing, but as an experience.

The bathroom quickly filled with your breathless moans. Your chest was pressed against the counter, your soaked cunt completely at the mercy of Bob’s mouth. His large hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, sure to leave bruises.

Not that you mind. Having a physical reminder that you belonged to him was thrilling. You quickly learned that Bob loved marking you, nearly bordering on an obsession. Hickies, hand shaped bruises, bite marks. He couldn't get enough of your body.

“Taste s’good, s’fuckin sweet,” Bob groaned inbetween lapping up your arousal. A large hand snuck around the front of your body, long fingers quickly finding your clit.

Your hand found the back of his head, clutching his sandy brown locks in hopes it would be enough to ground you. His mouth felt like heaven. Each stroke of his tongue pushes you further and further away from clarity and closer to that pleasurable edge.

“C-close,” you gritted through your teeth. You didn't need to ask him permission, but knew Bob wanted to know when you were near.

He loved to watch you fall apart.

Just as expected, his mouth was replaced by his fingers, your cunt welcoming the stretch. His breath was hot on your ear as he was now leaning over you.

“So pretty like this,” he cooed, “I know, you're so close. Just let go sweet girl, I got ya.”

You gripped the edge of the counter as white hot pleasure coursed through your body.

Bob watched you in the mirror, memorized by how your body reacted to his nimble fingers.

What a long way you had come. At the beginning of this relationship, you were hesitant to allow him to see you in such a vulnerable state, to have him hear you let out such lewd sounds. You would ask for the lights to be off, would have buried your head into the pillow to muffle your sounds.

Now you felt safe to fully let go, to show him all of you.

“There ya go, that's it.” His voice was soothing, a sharp contrast to how his fingers were thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, “Comin’ so hard for me, sweet girl. Fuckin’ love it.”

His hand continued its ministrations on your poor cunt, his lips ghosting over your temple. Your body leans into his, craving more.

Before Bob, the idea of coming twice in the same session was preposterous. Unrealistic.

Now it was the bare minimum.

This time when you came, your legs shook, your brain practically blacking out from the pleasure. You could hear how hard you were coming, lewd squelching sounds vaguely ringing in your ears.

“It's okay, I gotcha, Daddy’s gotcha,” He whispered against your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist to help you stand up as you recovered from your high.

“Made a mess,” you mumbled, able to feel how much you came on your inner thighs. But now your head was in a pleasure filled haze, only able to vaguely register that Bob was leading you to bed.

“I know, and I'll clean you up. But I want you to lay down first.” The back of your head gently hits soft pillows, your body melting into the mattress. True to his word, Bob returns with a warm washcloth, gently wiping you down.

“You wanna take a nap, sweet girl?” he murmured in between pressing gentle kisses against your forehead.

“But dinner-” you started, only for Bob to gently shush as he helped you out of your skirt.

“I'll move it back. You had a big day, you deserve to rest.”

“Robby?” You hummed, opening your eyes to find him helping you into one of his old T-shirts.

“Whatcha need, baby?” He asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Can….can I keep you warm? While we nap?”

This time it was his turn to blush. Bob nodded, quickly moving to take off his pants and boxers, laying down on the bed. He didn't need any help, watching you come twice had made him hard enough.

With his help, you were able to move into his lap, your hand finding the base of his cock, wrapping a hand around it so it could align with your entrance.

A content sigh left your lips upon being filled with his cock. You laid your head against his chest, your breathing slowing down as Bob traced shapes on your back.

You were always amazed by how well he filled you. So full, unlike anything you had experienced before.

Without thinking, your hips began to lazily grind against his, the movement causing his cock to shift inside you.

Two large hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, stilling your movements.

“Later,” Bob said, eyes still closed, “Want you to rest now sweet girl.”

He was far from done with you. But Bob also knew you would need your energy for later.

Besides, good girls deserve a nap.

And you were his best girl.

------------------------------------------

@lewmagoo @sometimesanalice @charmedkim @thepurplelovewitch @sio-ina-bottle @sugajar @briseisgone @idontcare-11 @cherrycola27 @auroralightsthesky @ryebecca @bobfloydsbabe @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @mxgyver @callsignspark

[xokohaneazusawa]

hello i have a bllk request!

so uh today i got hit in the face during PE with a football (we were playing football for PE and i was daydreaming about bllk boys 💀) and i wasn’t paying attention and got hit in the face and got a small cut on my nose 💀.

yet all i could think about was how my favourite characters would be laughing their asses off at me/judging me and the amount that would genuinely be concerned was a bit tragic. 💀

which led me to think of this potential fic idea. inexperienced reader who has probably touched a ball less than 10 times in her life, whose class is required to do football for PE (as much as i love bllk, i could never enjoy playing football myself.)

so anyways, her bf (chigiri, rin, nagi, bachira, isagi, reo, and sae) sees her get hit in the face and is ready to laugh at her, but starts lagging when they see blood. (sweet infirmary scene maybe 😍😍)

reader is absolute dog shit at football due to a lack of experience, compared to him, who’s on the mf school team. (hence why they were in different teams.)

overall i’m just feeling a little mortified over the little accident and i think it’s gonna scar 💀 but watching other ppl, even fictional, suffer with me just makes me feel better lmao. it’s fine if you don’t wanna take this request or shorten the list of characters tho 🫶🫶

(my injured nose hurts as i’m typing this 😭😭)

OMG It’s been a couple days so I hope your nose starts feeling better!! But you're so iconic for thinking about Bllk boys when you’re supposed to be doing something else- Also Anon if you want me to go more into detail about some of the like infirmary and nurse scenes just lmk and I can totally make a part 2 and go into more detail!

Chigiri Hyoma -> Sadly this man did actually laugh at you, but then when he came over to check on you and realized there was actually blood he got a little nervous and did actually take you over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else people call it -> Though when he brought you and the nurse said he was fine to go back he almost fought the person working in the nurse's office and they let him stay and keep you company -> He stayed by your side almost the whole time and did make fun of you a little bit, I mean it was a little stupid (HIS WORDS NOT MINE, I've had the same thing happen just with no blood) though he does kinda feel bad that it was somebody on his team that did it, though he won't ever tell you that -> He does eventually, after you stop bleeding, scold you a little for not paying attention, even though you don't know how to play you should at least be paying attention, though if you ask ever so nicely (aka he also hits too it) he'll at least teach you how to defend yourself from being in a situation like that again (It's his way of showing that he cares and doesn't want you getting hurt again<3) Rin Itoshi -> He will rush over immediately, I mean as much as he likes to win he doesn't wanna see you get hurt in the process, he could clearly tell the way the teams were set up was quite unfair, having the good players on one side and the bad ones on the other -> Checks around for injuries, all while grumbling that you should have been paying attention and not off in whatever world you were in -> When he realizes that you're bleeding though he stands you up, not too fast just in case, and takes you over to a teacher, letting them know that he's taking you over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else, and then makes sure you get there safe before heading back -> Only goes back because the person working there said it was fine if he did and not because he wanted too, in all honesty he wanted to stay with you to make sure you were okay, as much as he didn't sound or look like it -> tries to take his mind off it by going back and playing more, but going against a team of lukewarm nobodies doesn't quite hit the spot for him so he just ends up worrying even more Nagi Seishiro -> The second that he saw you get hit he waited for a second and when he saw that you didn't bounce back like the people on his team normally did he made a slight effort to move a little faster to go make sure that you were alive still -> When he walked over and saw you were bleeding, he got up and let one of the teachers know, since he wasn't exactly sure what to do. They ended up making him help you to get to the nurse/infirmary/ whatever else, and when get got there he just kinda sat on the chair next to you, even when they told him he should go back to class -> He was kinda over football right then anyway, and he would have much rather stayed with you, way less of a hassle for him away, he would have also had to walk all the way back to the class and that's way to much work -> So instead he just stayed in there with you, and like everybody else kinda scolded you, or more in his case, lazily warned you about not paying attention when football are being passed around Bachira Meguru -> As soon as he witnessed you getting hit in the face with a ball, he laughed. No questions asked. -> Though as he was laughing he came over to check on you, at least to make sure that you were already and when he realized you weren't he quickly stopped laughing and tried to find somebody to get tissues or like really anything -> Gladly took you to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it when the teacher ask him to walk you down/over/up there. He def giggled about you getting hit in the face and was so curious about what you were thinking about before it happened -> Another man who is staying with you, Manz is not leaving until you leave, no matter what person tries to send him back to class -> Also, he's never gonna let you live it down Isagi Yoichi

-> This sweetheart! The second you got hit, he was right by your side (now if this was a match in Blue Lock, eh things would be different, but since he most likely wasn't trying all that hard since it was like people who actually knew how to play vs people that didn't he didn't wanna destroy anybody)

-> He helped you up and grabbed tissues and the whole nine yards, made sure to get you some water and everything like that, even volunteered to take you down to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it to make sure that you got there safe, and got some water on the way

-> When he got there, def was such a sweetheart to the people who were working and how concerned he looked for you, they didn't even ask him to go back to class, they just let him sit next to you and hold your hand and even almost all let out an "aww" when he would ask how you were every few minutes

-> Though once you started feeling better he would try to explain that you really have to be paying attention when you play, but also give you some help in learning ways to defend yourself against said flying footballs Reo Mikage

-> Another sweetheart, while he did slightly chuckle at you at first, when he jogged over and realized that you were bleeding he started worrying, asking people to grab him basically anything, which knowing Reo's popularity at school everybody scattered to grab something

-> Walked you up/down/over to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it, and while he did also laugh on the way, teasing you slightly about if you were thinking about him, he was still pretty worried for your safety

-> Would sit in the infirmary/nurses office/whatever else with you the whole time, making sure that either the bleeding spotted or their wasn't any bruising or anything along those lines

-> Another one who would wait to scold you, he needs to make sure you're okay first, and he will tease you the whole time about getting hit in the face with a ball, and you'll never live it down

Sae Itoshi

-> Brother Like Brother

-> Will wait for a couple seconds just to see if you can take care of yourself, but when he realizes you're bleeding he walks over pretty fast, pushing anybody out of the way

-> Gets somebody to grab some tissues or something, or just anything to stop the bleeding as he takes you down to the nurse/infirmary/whatever else you wanna call it

-> Unlike his brother, he will stay, even if people tell him to head back. Why would he, it's not like lukewarm players will actually change anything for him

-> The staff might be a little pissed off at him later about his mean comments, but that's an issue for later.

-> He'll also ask every couple minutes if you're okay and if you need anything, but he won't sound as nice as Isagi when saying it. He will also call you dumb for not paying attention and getting hit in the face (but later on he'll also smile and chuckle at the thought)

[sminiac]

Heyy can we get soul bf if not its okay i really live your intak,theo and keeho ver.

⋆ Haku Shota + Reader

💌 — Of course I can my sweets! Thank you sm <3!!!

Bf!Soul who buys you the silliest gifts whether he’s travelling or not, the type to see ads of utterly ridiculous items that would have no practical value to it and still put them into his cart without hesitation and giggles to himself when handing the package to you when it comes in, wouldn’t say a word even if you repeatedly ask him what it is, just sits and waits patiently for you to open it.

Ex: Sometimes he even goes out of his way to buy you matching accessories, but sometimes it’s the most absurd looking thing you’ll ever see. Also yk how he has 2 custom rings of his dogs? He’d 100% get custom pieces for the two of you, the design pertaining to something that only you and him understand! Would also get a few pieces with your initials engraved in the back, another little secret only you’d know about.

Bf!Soul who doesn’t like messaging you when he’s away, he absolutely will when there’s no other option but he’d much rather hear your voice, and he makes sure to tell you too! “I just missed hearing you talk to me that’s why I called, it makes me feel better, you know?” He’d also send you little texts throughout the day to keep you updated on where he is, what he’s doing, but they’d never be in great detail, you’d look down randomly at your phone and there’s just: “Baby I ate a bug!!” and “Walked head first into a pole >ヮ< I’m okay I think”

Ex: He’d also frequently tell you “I miss you” but every time he’d explain why, and it would almost always be a different reason each time :,)

Bf!Soul who is such an affectionate person, hugs and kisses given to you for the smallest reasons, you open something for him? You’re suddenly being smothered in kisses, they’re so quick and gentle that before you know it he’s pulling away like he didn’t just leave you blinded and dizzy from his lips. Also the type to hug you unexpectedly, just slowly raises his arms leaving his chest open until you get the hint and pull yourself into him, the same with holding your hand, but instead he’d keep reaching, pulling, trying to dig his fingers to his designated spot between yours.

Bf!Soul who builds you the cutest, most aesthetic buildings you’ve ever seen in your shared Minecraft world, the amount of time and effort he’d put into making everything pretty for you is insane. Takes care of your cats, dogs, and other random plethora of animals when you’re offline, would also leave you random little signs with messages on them for you to find whenever you’re active again, sometimes they’re just silly nonsense, others you’ll find really cute ones of him just completely gushing over you.

Bf!Soul who I feel like is so “Guess what Y/n did?” To his members, a constant yapper about you, if you’ve done anything to your hair recently, that one makeup look you did, that outfit you wore, that thing you said, everything and anything he’s constantly connecting to you and then he just has to tell everyone!

Bf!Soul who lets you do anything you want to him, he’s just pure putty in your hands! You want to put his hair in cute pigtails again? He’s already finding a spot between your legs so you have easier access to his head. You want to see him in a certain outfit? He’s laying out all of his options for you to pick from, and he doesn’t complain even one bit throughout the process.

Ex: Small spontaneous photoshoots happen quite often with this, does so many poses for you, even refers to you as his ‘pretty photographer’ when crediting you in the caption of his posts for taking the pictures of him.

Bf!Soul who would request of you to send your favourite songs to him just so he can make a freestyle video for you :,)

Bf!Soul who I feel like puts an incredible amount of effort into conveying his love for you, he really appreciates someone who can even help him, whether that’s guiding him into the words he can’t seem to find or just simply being patient with him. Likes cuddling into you while you play with his hair as he rambles on and on about you, what you mean to him, how lucky he must be to have found someone so reactive to his energy that not a lot of people can match in the way he feels is genuine. When he has the time he really gets into the details about how he feels, the emotion behind it, I feel like he’d really like the deep, touching talks late at night where everything just pieces together right in front of his eyes thanks to your presence, your kind heart. He could talk to you for hours, things are just easy with you.

[malarign]

butterflies (pt. 2)

(how they would get butterflies)

contains: bf!hyungline x fem!reader (individually) | genre: fluff | tw! mentions of making out and other intimate situations (nothing serious and explicit though!) | wc: 0,6k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: this is somehow part two of Butterflies (how they would give you butterflies), be sure to check it out!

Lee Heeseung | 이희승

➶ when you compliment him *ೃ༄

it could be something short like “you look good today”

or “you smell really nice”

or maybe something longer, almost like a confession

all he knows is that he has to cover his ears bc they’re totally red right now

idk what he expects though?? man is good at everything he does

so you tend to remind him about that once in a while

his response to that is always the same

which is looking down at the floor or his shoes and smiling shyly

please he’s so cute

➶ when you play with his hair *ೃ༄

or any head-related touch like head pats

scratching or massaging his scalp

brushing through his locks

or tangling your fingers in them while you two make out

it’s basic, it’s cliche but man,,, how it makes him feel

the moment your hand lands on his head he’s on cloud nine

Park Jongseong | 박종성

➶ when you whisper into his ear *ೃ༄

idk it’s just something about him

i feel that soft sound like your whisper makes his body tingle

the place doesn’t matter tbh

it could be you whispering while he has a break in his practice

or when you’re alone and you just tell him sweet nothings

he just sits and listens to your sweet voice with his eyes closed

feels dazed whenever your hot breath hits his skin

➶ when you grab his arm *ೃ༄

okay specifically not hand, hand is too basic for this man

but when you hold his arm

please he’s lost, doesn’t know what’s going on

add a little squeeze on his bicep and not only his heart jumps out of his chest

but also his ego is bigger than ever

innocent acts like this just make him want to protect you (i’m not crying)

Sim Jaeyun | 심재윤

➶ when you initiate any form of intimacy *ೃ༄

usually, it’s he who starts any make-out and cuddling sessions

so he’s just stunned whenever you initiate it

bonus points if you take initiative by sitting on his lap and holding him in one place by doing that

so what if he could easily take it away from you

but why would he?

plus he would be so giggly, humming in content at the smallest contact

➶ when you address him by his name *ೃ༄

i mean it’s jake, of course he is master in making weird but cute nicknames to you

but whenever he hears his name coming out of your lips?

he’s gone

he just thinks that the way you say it is the most adorable thing you do

especially when you call him a cute form of his name, either english or korean one

he would anything and everything for you as soon as he hears “yunie” or “jakey”

probably would get teased by others, but doesn’t really care ✋

Park Sunghoon | 박성훈

➶ when you pay attention to him *ೃ༄

this man would be just as whipped for you as jake, but silently

he can swear his heart jumps out of his chest whenever you attently listen to him and his worries

especially that he is always the one to notice small details about his close ones

like the sight of you nodding looking straight into his eyes makes him kinda intimidated

whenever you remembered a small fact about him, like his new favorite ice cream flavour

or his new favorite movie

just show interest in any detail about him and he’s gone

our big boy just loves small gestures

➶ holding eye contact with him *ೃ༄

we all know he’s really bad at holding eye contact

likes to think he’s the one who’s more intimidating

but honestly whenever you look straight into his eyes for a little longer than usually

he can’t help but look away pursing his lips together into a thin line

even when it’s been a while of your relationship

he smiles whenever you’re staring at him, feeling a little less shy comparing to the beggining

but still blush tints his cheek tying a knot in his stomach

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

[bby-blu-swirll]

sit on my lap while you do my eyeliner - bakugo x reader

i can't find it now, (i will tho if it kills me) but this is inspired by this tumblr post i saw on my pinterest that was like " 'let me do your eyeliner' gf and 'okay sit on my lap while you do it' bf" lol

pls enjoy xx

bakugo loves your makeup. (he loves your natural face just as much, but he also thinks you look drop dead gorgeous no matter what.)

his favorite days are when you pull out the eyeliner pen. when you look at him and your eyes are rimmed with black, bringing out the hue of your irises, he just folds honestly. subtly, because his pride is too strong to let anybody see him so weak for you, but you've definitely picked up on it.

he loves anything you do with it. a wing, big or small, a messy grungey outline, drawing hearts or stars, anything. he loves watching you do it with such attention to detail and even more loves seeing the finished product and how it might have changed the shape of your eyes. whether it's soft and cute and gives you little doe eyes, or sharp and cutting like a knife, pulling your eyes into dangerous (& admittedly sexy) slits, he adores it.

he doesn't show it much, though. he's not as bad as compliments as you thought he'd be, really, but this is just a bit different.

he can call you pretty, gorgeous, hot, whatever- all he wants. there was no problem there. especially, in front of other people. it was almost like bragging to him.

like once, in the middle of a conversation with the bakusquad, he caught your arm as you were walking by just to press a kiss to your cheek and tell you that you looked beautiful. of course he meant every word of it, but there was a silent emphasis on the fact that he was the one you got to tell you that, and that it was very true. it was like his way of being able to say, "suck it, extras, that beauty is my girlfriend," without sounding like the cocky douchebag he usually did. (bc he knows you don't like it when he's such a cocky douchebag <3)

but complimenting such a specific part of you was a bit more difficult, and he wasn't quite sure how to articulate it. he knew he liked it, but he wasn't sure why. he just thought you looked sexy and sweet like that.

like you did today.

it was one of those lazy saturdays for the both of you, where you slept in a little and kind of just floated through the day, maybe go out maybe not, maybe make out on your bed, who knows.

it was close to half past ten when you were finally up and at your vanity, doing your makeup for the day. your boyfriend was spread out and taking up most of your bed while he studied for the test you had on monday. you thought he was a bit of a nerd for spending one of his only mornings off on school, but you admired his dedication.

neither of you liked silence much, so soft music filled the quiet in your dorm, along with the occasional page turn from bakugo, usually followed by a sigh.

you capped your eyeliner pen with a huff. you had been looking at your face so long, it was hard to tell if it was even. "hey babe?" you turned your swivel chair to face him.

"yeah?" he didn't bother looking up from his book.

you pressed the closed pen to your cheek and blinked a few times. "does this look okay?"

he glanced up for a moment, doing a double take when he saw you. there was no concealer on your dark circles and your eyeliner was smudged underneath your eyes and your lips looked a bit cracked, and he could feel his stomach swell with butterflies the second he looked at you.

"yeah, its.. its perfect." he looked away and cleared his throat, hearing you chuckle slightly.

once you turned around in your chair, his eyes were glued to you. just watching you sort through your makeup tray, trying to find something. the way you knit your brows together, your bottom lip stuck out- his quickly averted his gaze back to his book when you turned to him. he could feel your eyes trained on him as he thumbed the corner the pages.

"hey katsuki?"

he hummed in response, still not looking at you.

you stood up and slowly sauntered towards him, smirking when his eyes flicked up to you every few seconds. you took his book and set it aside.

"the hell are you-" he clenched his jaw when you leaned close to him, still standing. he dropped his voice to a soft tone, just shy of a whisper. "what're you doing, huh?"

"can i do your eyeliner?"

he chuckled and smirked. "'course.."

you grinned and took a seat next to him, your face heating up as his hands found your waist. he lifted you up and set you on his lap, wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. his smirk grew as a blush crept up your cheeks.

"just as long as you sit... here." he pecked your lips, mindlessly stroking his thumb across the skin just above the waistband of your pants. "you can start whenever, babe, i'm not stopping you..."

you huffed and bit the inside of your cheek, internally rolling your eyes. his cocky smirk softened a little when your fingers delicately cradled his jaw, turning his head slightly.

"close your eyes..." you kept your voice low, watching his eyes flutter shut.

his skipped a beat when he felt your breath on his lips. he took deep breaths, just inhaling whatever lotion or perfume had you smelling so good.

you bit your lip and did your best to keep your hand steady. it was hard to keep the lines straight when he would squeeze your hips occasionally. but you prevailed nonetheless, keeping the ink close to the rim of his eyes. you were going for a sort of rodrick look.

"okay.." you clicked your tongue and capped your pen, setting it to the side. "you're done~"

he opened his eyes slowly, a playful look dancing across his features. "well? how do i look?"

your breath caught in your throat. his red eyes glowed, half lidded and staring right into you.

"hmmm..." you brought a hand to his chest, the other messing with the hair at the base of his neck. you traced small circles across his skin. "handsome."

"yeah?" he took your cheek in his hand, pulling you closer to him. "that all?"

you shrugged and chuckled a bit, watching his cocky grin return.

"hm, you think i'm hot. coulda just said so..." he pressed his lips against yours softly, which quickly changed to a rough, demanding kiss.

looks like you did end up making out on your bed,,

totally meant to upload this over a week ago,,, my bad lol i've been very busy, sorry this is so crap lol i'll probably rewrite it in the future <33

love you sm !! stay safe & sleep well 💗💗

[prettypei]

plot: satosugu bf headcanons (seperately); fluff!

reader: gn! Reader

parings: highschool! geto, gojo

warnings:none?? I don’t think so

(a/n): SUGURU ON THE MIND!!!! esp after that new ep gawd damn

✰GOJO

HES SUCH A LOSER BF

like you knew it from the way he asked you out

he planned to ask you out by making a cake that said "date me?" on it

he thought it was romantic

but gojo srsly cant cook

he even though he really likes sweets he cant even fry an egg so the cake turned out something like... imagine the worst cake possible with frosting everywhere and the message on top of the cake is unreadable and the cake is a weird brown color? yeah its like that

you agreed to go out with him anws

if you ever get in a fight hes definitely pullin up to fight with you, no matter how wrong you are

"cats are dogs" "yea they're basically animals so they're the same!"

will ask to copy homework EVERY. SINGLE TIME.

he claims that he trusts you like you grades vould be going downhill and he would still borrow urs

is the type of person to accidentally copy the name too

such a virgin everyone says he's a major f-boy but in reality he has never felt another person touch him romantically

he gives you goofy grins whenever he does sth stupid (and when he does it's mostly bc he wants to see you laugh)

calls you the most ridiculous pet names "sugar bby pookie bear"

also likes referring to you as candies like he called you liquorice one time???

has a habit of applying lip gloss... like A LOT.

"can I kiss u babe" "yeah lemme put on lip gloss rq" *proceedes to spend 10 whole minutes smacking his lips and applying lip gloss*

really big on pda hes suuupperrrr into it, but he'll tone it down if you're uncomfortable

if ur into it tho? he kisses you every two secs

TAKES THE WORST DATING ADVICE EVER FROM THE TRIO

"guys where shld I bring (name) on a date?" "Bring her to a sewer, that way they'll be scared and hug you."-geto "idk a therapist?"-shoko (in the end you were just grossed out, but he somehow makes it sweet and wholesome at the same time?)

✰GETO

he texts you a lot of memes (I'm sure this is widely agreed throughout the fandom lol)

doesn't hug you a lot in public but he does wrap his arm around your shoulder

he wouldn't be reallyyyy affectionate but if you are he'll accept your hugs with a little smile

he likes my melody more than kuromi

his love language is quality time, sometimes you'll spend dates just lounging out on the couch and doing nothing. However, he thinks it's much nicer than just being by himself

really great memory, he notices those small details about you that no one else does, or even the ones you're unaware of like when you always fold a napkin when you're at a restaurant yk hes cute like that

asks the weirdest questions ever: "do you think I'm a squirrel or a chipmunk?" respond with "I think you're an idiot" QUICK!!!

he gets super moody when his hair ties are missing, he has a whole bag of them at his dorm

allows you to give him silly hairstyles when he's sleepin <3

loves truth or dare and 20 questions

has a weird obsession with puzzles and he likes it if he’s piecing one together with you

he also gets competitive without knowing. Like even with you if you guys are at an arcade and you win him at basketball hoops he’s bitter

”let’s do it again I was not ready” “you said that 5 times and I still won” “NO”

he believes in astrology stuff

is more emotionally attracted to people than physically

he may come off as cold but he just doesn’t express as much as gojo

he sometimes paints (mostly watercolor) and a lot of them are of you or are inspired by you <333

MY POOKIE!!! Free my man he did nothing wrong!!!!

[wonfilms]

❝ bf! beomgyu ❞ [ headcanons ] : ☆ warnings : n/a, genre: fluff & more fluff,

beomgyu who kisses your forehead and whispers 'i love you' after you've fallen asleep.. he's loud with his love. always one to be proud of how much he values you as the person who makes everyday more bearable, making sure to show how much he adores you in all the ways he can, but in vulnerable moments like this he whispers his sweet affection for you for only the moon to bear witness.

beomgyu who remembers all the little things about you, he's never been able to do that. he finds himself forgetting things all the time but he never forgets a thing when it comes to you. he knows your go to drink, your favourite candle scents and even the brand of fabric softener you like, but he'll forget what he had for breakfast just earlier that day.. he finds it quite funny really, how he loves you so much that he can't help but remember every detail.

beomgyu who comes to you after a long day, not speaking a word but just nestling into your arms.. maybe it's because his voice would crack and he'd cry just a little if he spoke but it's also because he finds you so soothing, taking his mind off things even if it were only for a little while...

beomgyu who will hold you close at night, kissing your shoulder as you laugh and talk about your day mindlessly. you're cute, so damn cute to him. he can't help but just smile, it's weird how something as small as just your pretty little smile can make his heart feel so full and warm.

beomgyu who loves so hard. he's found loving you makes him love himself more too, you just make his existence feel so damn warm, your sunny smiles and pretty eyes and every comforting word you utter makes him feel like everything will be okay. and it will be, because he has you and he'll do anything to make sure you know that you have him too.

[yourstrulyrika]

a short drabble about Leon as your bf because I love this man. pure sfw and comfort!! just mention of mental health struggles and a self harm mention in one of the sentences, just a mention but i’m saying it just in case.

Leon would be the sweetest type of lover. Like actually. yeah he may be distant and all, but he loves you, and he tries to make sure you know it. always hugging you, comforting you, kissing you. it’s the little things. he notices everything— he always pays attention to your face, body talk.

Leon is so comforting in general. this man gives the best hugs and it’s canon (confirmed by me i am capcom). his arms just wrap around you, covering you like a warm blanket on a winter night. he likes sitting with you in silence, not talking about anything in particular but being with you. like a cat, in some ways. he wants your attention and affection, but he’s also reversed and won’t show it besides the subtle signs. he loves rocking you back and forth in a soothing motion, whispering sweet words in your ear.

Leon loves forehead kisses. he loves kissing your pretty face, holding hands without a word. he loves when you cover his face with kisses, it’s his favourite thing.

Leon is the type of person to kiss your self harm scars if you have them. he doesn’t even have to ask to understand. he knows. and that’s okay — he doesn’t comment on them, just kisses your scars and tries to make you feel validated.

my headcanon is that leon did at least try sh once in his life. there’s no way he didn’t at least think of it.

Leon who is grateful for your existence. you saved him. thanks to you, he started smiling again. it’s still just that small smile of his, but it appears more often and only around you.

Leon who would give everything to you because you’re his everything. he doesn’t want anything or anyone else because he has you — his dear, his angel, his beloved person.

Leon is a quiet lover. but, he loves listening to you. he listens to you rambling for hours, whenever its about games, netflix, work, anything — he likes listening to everything you say. later on he remembers the little details from all your stories and mentions them later.

Leon is so protective over you. when he notices even a subtle sign of distress or even a small tremble or change in expression, he’s growing protective. he went through so much, he’ll do everything to protect you from what he went through.

[strnilolover]

Rough Day - Matt Sturniolo

In which... you’ve had a bad day at work and Matt comforts you when you get home. (No use of y/n, slight crying)

Blue - Matt : Pink - Reader

Pairing: bf!matt sturniolo x gf!reader

Warnings: none just fluff :)

a/n: this is my first time posting any writing ever, so please bear with me. I know it doesn't have much detail but I'm trying 🙏🏻

———————————————————————

It was a rough day. Sitting in your car after your twelve-hour shift, trying to breathe the best you could as you struggled to keep the tears from falling down your face. Your hands gripped the steering wheel as you looked at your face in the small mirror to your right, your eyes puffy and slightly red from those tears that did escape. You exhaled, putting the car into drive and made your way home.

Trudging in through the front door, you kick your shoes off to your right and make your way towards the kitchen to set your things down on the counter. Matt being nowhere in sight, you figure he’d be in your shared room doing who knows what.

You make your way up the carpeted stairs in your home, wincing slightly as the change of texture makes your sore feet ache. Once at the top of the stairs you turn beelining for yours and matts bedroom, pushing the door open, matt sits there at his desk playing games with presumably his brothers.

He doesn’t notice you, too wrapped up in the game they’re playing. Insults being spat at one another as one of them fucks up in what they’re doing. You take a deep breath and slowly make your way over to Matt, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and setting your head down on them, closing your eyes.

He smiles, bringing one of his hands up to grab your arm. “Hello sweetheart.” He coos softly at you, his thumb rubbing your arm. “hmm” You hum in response, your brain catching up to your exhausted frame as you slouch more against him. He reaches for your arms, pulling them off him as he spins himself around to face you. “How was your day sweet girl?” he asks, taking you and tugging you softly onto his lap. Your legs landing on either side of him the best they could as he was still in his game chair.

You shook your head, the words on the tip of your tongue, but refused to move past your lips in fear of letting yourself break loose. Though, you’re sure it would happen either way. Matt frowned, “Rough day huh baby?”, You nodded, your head falling forward onto his shoulder as you started to feel the sobs rack through your body. The tears fell down your face as your body shook, soaking matts shirt in the process.

He brought his arms up to wrap around your frame, one hand rubbing circles on your back, the other stroking your hair as you let your sobs break free. “It’s alright baby I’ve got you,” he says, the hand on your back pulling you tighter to him, “let it all out, it’s going to be okay.” You wrap your arms tight around him, your body melting as the rest of your energy leaves you. “It was such—a bad day matt, so bad...” You choke out between the remainder of your sobs. Pulling away, he looks at your puffy eyes and tear-stained face, frowning more as he comforts you.

Matt takes a breath, bringing his hands up to caress your face. “How about I help you get ready for bed sweetheart? Would you like that?” He questions, holding your face in his hands still. You nod, “Please.” It comes as a whisper, but he smiles softly. Turning his head to his computer, he says something to his brothers and then shuts his pc down. He turns back to you, eyes growing soft as he slowly stands up, carrying you with him.

He sets you down on your shared bed, crouching Infront of you as he looks up at you. Reaching for the hem of your shirt he looks at you, “Can I take this off?” He asks and you nod your head, lifting your arms up for him to slide your shirt off and to unclasp your bra. He reaches for the top of your pants next, tugging them down as you lift your hips for him to do so, leaving you in just your underwear. He then stands up, walking to your closet, grabbing one of his shirts for you and walking back over.

You smile at him, your eyelids hooded as you try your best to keep yourself awake. Lifting your arms up again, he slides the shirt over your head, and you feed your arms through the holes. You sigh, matt sitting next to you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it in the direction of the laundry basket. He grabs you and leans back, pulling the covers over the both of you as you snuggle into him. Your head on his chest as his arms are wrapped securely around you, and you look up at him. “Thank you, matt.” You whisper softly, your voice still a little hoarse after crying.

He looks down at you, “Anything for my baby, now let’s get some rest yeah?” He says, pressing light pecks to the top of your head, his hand rubbing circles on your back once more as they did earlier. You nod, your body melting into him as you felt sleep take over you for the night.

Word count - 870

Time count - 145 Minutes

[chishiyashoodie]

can you write some hc of chishiya and reader’s first date ? 🥺

Sure! Haven’t written anything like this in weeks so bear with me. Also, I’m not taking requests, but thought this was a cute concept! so thank you for requesting it <3

Headcanons of Chishiya’s and readers first date

+ pairing: ooc!Chishiya x reader +

+ warnings: none!

+ word count: 3400ish +

+ author’s note: I got a bit carried away and I wrote two first dates hehe. I think it’s kinda sweet but idk if I’m happy with it. Very quick proofread so sorry for any mistakes <3 This can take place before or after the borderland +

-So you guys meet after work one day to go through some work related stuff

-You go to a Japanese barbecue restaurant

-After you are done eating, he asks if you’d like to meet tomorrow again just to hang out

-“So a date?” you ask him

-“No, not a date”

-“Hmm” you say giving him a suspicious look “Pick me up at 12pm”

-Date-no date day is here and you are super nervous but you don’t get why because first: it’s definitely not a date and second you’ve known him for a long time

-He decides to take you to an exhibition at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum

-You wonder how he knows you like that kind of stuff

-After you guys are done with the exhibition, he takes you to a small food stand inside the museum

-“Are you hungry?” He asks

-“No, I’m good” you say with a smile

-You sit down to wait for him to get his food and he brings you a matcha lather, which you love, and you ask him how does he know you like it

-“I’ve noticed you have this every morning at work when you start your shift”

-So he’s been observing you, which you find kinda sweet, because everything is in the little details

-After the museum date hang out, you walk to a nearby park and lay down under a tree

-You feel so comfortable and peaceful that time goes by so quickly

-“I like this” you say “but I’d rather it was nighttime so we could be looking at the stars. Don’t get me wrong, I love blue skies but stars make me curious because they are there, so close yet so far”

-He’s just looking at you with heart eyes and a soft smile

-“Maybe we could do this again tomorrow?” he suggests. “But when it’s dark so you can see them?”

-“Sure”

-Looking at the stars with him is definitely not something you’d think ever happen.

-The next day you guys meet up at the park.

-This time he brings a blanket for you guys to lay on.

-Before you realise it your head is on his chest

-You start talking about constellations and even though he has no idea what you are talking about, he’s following every word you say.

-When it’s time to go, he walks you home and you invite him in.

-You prepare some tea for the both of you and start talking about life

-“It’s so weird, I can talk to you about anything and I know you’ll just listen” you say

-“Likewise” he says before asking you. “So do you have a boyfriend?”

-“Hmm no?”

-He hums

-“I do not have a bf, sorry your question caught me by surprise” you say staring at his face without realising

-“I don’t have a girlfriend”

-“I’d be worried if you did and you were here with me, tbh”

-He raises his eyebrows at you, after all, this isn’t a date either so why would it matter, right?

-“So how come you are single? You are pretty cute” you admit, before slightly chocking on your tea at the realisation of what you just said

-“I’m cute?”

-He’s staring at you so much at this point he could literally get you to tell him your biggest secrets

-“Super cute if I may admit”

-For the next few minutes it’s just silence and awkwardness. You just told Chishiya he’s cute and by the looks of it, it seems like he thinks you are cute too

-“It’s time for me to go. I have an early shift tomorrow” he finally says

-By now you are inches away from each other like a magnet pulled you

-“Do you really have to go? I mean, I have a spare room, you can sleep here”

-He raises his eyebrows at your forwardness, not that you mean it for him to stay and sleep with you

-You can feel each other’s breaths and your lips are touching

-“Sure, I’ll stay”

[izzystradlinswife]

dont feel pressured but im so soft rn i need to get this off my chest

tracii guns is the type of bf to take you on motorcycle rides 24/7. He loves his bike sm and he loves spending time with you, so its kind of a given. he especially loves it if you're nervous/a first time rider bc it gives him an excuse to "teach" you how to ride ☹☹☹

(anyways)

First off It's definitely an innocence thing, like he wants to spend the time teaching you "things" I won't go into detail, cause you said soft 😚

storing that away for a fic later on

But at any chance he gets, he says something like, "Babe want to go out?" Why wouldn't you want to go out? That's simple enough. When you go to reach for the car door, he's revving the engine of his motorcycle. Mental face palm, it's not like you don't want to ride with him, and it's not like you don't trust him. You do, you really do, but you can't help the nervousness that bubbles up every time from just seeing him on it. The thought of actually being on his motorcycle didn't make you feel any better.

Tracii notices your hesitance, leaving his bike behind as he walks over to you slinging both arms around your waist then resting his head between the nook of your neck. "Baby it'll be fine, I promise" he planted a quick but sweet kiss on the column of your throat. You sighed as you glanced at the bike "I'll teach you, I'll make sure you're safe and if everything goes as planned I'll teach you some other things later" you felt his smirk against your skin leaving a much hotter kiss on your neck.

"Tracii," You dramatically gasped "What kind of girl do you think I am?" Tracii breathed out a laugh as he held your figure closer. "One that'll accept my bargain and trust me" you rolled your eyes at his words, almost forgetting what you were talking about. "Fine, you better be careful" Tracii eagerly grabbed your hand and led you to his bike, he swung his leg over so both of his thighs rested on either side of the bike.

He reached his hand out for you, you shook your head with a laugh as you repeated his motion with ease. "I think I can do that part by myself" Your confidence slowly rose, it couldn't be that bad from here. Tracii turned the bike back on causing a small jump from you. Without looking back he took both of your arms and put them around his waist. "Don't let go, okay?" He said speaking over the engine, you shook your head showing you wouldn't.

You propped up your legs where Tracii pointed to, your nerves getting the best of you once again as you fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket. His hand rested on your knee as his thumb rubbed back and forth while he spoke. "You know I would never do something that I knew would hurt you and if you hold on and don't let go it'll be fun, just breathe baby" although you couldn't see his face you knew he smiled at the end, he took pride in the way you wouldn't trust anyone else to keep you safe.

"We'll start slow. Work our way up." You nodded as you leaned your head into his shoulder as the bike started moving. You held on impossibly tighter, squeezing your eyes shut as he turned the corner away from the house. "I swear to god, Tracii, if this thing kills me, I'm never forgiving you." You heard his laugh echo as you slowly opened your eyes, your hair blew back in the wind as you looked at the sky, squinting from the sharp wind blowing in your eyes.

The sun was slowly setting the purples faded into dusty oranges and then into subtle pink hues. You loosened your grip, not enough for you to fall off, but so your arms weren't straining so much, you rolled up to a stop light. "How ya doin baby?" He looked to the side so he could hear better. "I guess it's not so bad." You sighed, "I told you. It's relaxing, isn't it?" Tracii tapped your arm, bringing your attention to him. "I don't know if I would say that, but it's nice. The sunset is pretty.

"Why do you think I took you this way instead of through the strip?" The light turned from red to green as he finished his sentence. He quickly gained speed again until he reached the limit. You thought about his words earlier on how he would never do something if he knew it would hurt you. You smiled at his gesture and how much he did for you. You don't think you could've picked a better person if you tried.

[mfragilevanilla]

My Armin Arlert bf headcanons ♡ sfw!!

➴ Armin is the type of bf whose love language is acts of service. He adores small details the most, small acts that show all his love. He’ll put his hand on your head when you kneel down to pick something and your head is about to bump on a table, or he’ll prepare a warm bath for you before you come home when he knows you’ve had a hard day, because he genuinely loves you and wants you to be happy.

➴ He also appreciates it the most when you do it for him. He will notice each one of the little things you do for him, like worrying about applying sunscreen on him when you’re at the beach even if he wasn’t thinking about doing it, or simply giving him little gifts based on his likes. He almost cried when you gifted him a handmade drawn bookmark with little seashells and book quotes he liked.

➴ Words of affirmation makes him weak in his heart because he adores feeling loved by you. He’s really insecure with his self, and when you tell him small things you like about him through the day he’ll feel his heart warm and how he slowly falls in love more with you each day. Just tell him how pretty his eyes look while he stares at the sea or how much you appreciate the things he does for you and you’ll have him melting in your hands.

➴ There’s something about physical touch that makes him excited. He doesn’t like overtouch or invading your personal space, but he surely loves giving you hugs from behind, or resting his hands on your waist while y’all kiss just to make sure you don’t go away. He’s clingier inside home than outside, because he feels really shy with being touchy or loving when you’re around people. He’ll sometimes give you small kisses on your cheeks when he feels extra lovey-dovey though, his hand always glued with yours.

➴ He’s the biggest people pleaser, and more with you. He hates denying you stuff, even if it’s the smallest thing because he hates to disappoint you. When you ask him to do something he doesn’t like, he’ll simply smile nervously and nod, doing whatever you told him to uncomfortably. You’ll notice this each time and simply stop him, knowing he’d jump off a bridge if that would make you satisfied.

➴ People think he’d like a dominant, stronger partner, but I personally think he’d just like someone sweet and someone that can understand the little things he likes. He’d like someone that shares his opinions and someone sensitive that would love him like he could love.

➴ This man would respect you the most. He’s head over heels for you and loves you more than anything, so you wouldn’t hear a single word of hatred or disrespect for you coming from his mouth ever. As I mentioned, he appreciates all your little details, and would worship the hard work you make everyday so much.

➴ He will also be your biggest supporter in all your hobbies and interests. You like to draw? He’d hang your drawings on his room’s walls and keep every single one of them. You like to dance? He’d go and watch every one of your performances and trust me when I say he’ll be the one to clap louder. You like to do whatever you like to do? He’ll worship and enjoy anything.

First time posting this kind of stuff ♡

Hope y’all liked it!! And also feel free to request whatever you want, I’ll try to do my best <3

@mfragilevanilla 🐰

Do not repost on other social media pls!

[fantastical-euphoria]

steve perry bf headcanons i came up with:

•he’d be the type to kiss you *all* over. all over your face, your neck (he’d grin while saying to you “whoops, missed a spot” when you’d try to pull away)

•he’d call you sweetheart/sweetie, angel, or darling all the time.

•he’d be very patient with you and listen to all your troubles, woes, and ailments. and he’d try to be as understanding as possible.

•he’d cook lavishly for you. all that would ever be on his mind is spoiling his princess.

•also, you’d own at least one or two cats. i hear he’s a cat person (BYE!)

•the two of you would live for the subtle, small, sweet, intimate moments that you both would share in seclusion. you crave stillness, peace and quiet… while also craving a little bit of fun. and steve would deliver on all fronts!

•his caresses would be the gentlest. his kisses would be the softest thing you ever felt. one of his biggest fears would be hurting you in some way, any way. does it keep him up at night? on occasion.

•if he ever saw you cry, his first instinct would be to hug you, and then ask you what’s wrong.

•i’m all for the goofy polaroids. he’s the fun type, so i see him doing that.

•he’d wanna take you on a private, scenic tour of his hometown, and he would show you everything, but spend more time on all the spots that he would always go to growing up and still goes to. he pays close attention to detail when showing you around and doesn’t leave anything out. he would know the history behind everything (not that he was ever a history buff growing up) every monument, (almost) every tree, he would introduce you to the mailman, the mailman’s dog… hopefully you don’t become easily exhausted from being on your feet all day!

•you’d meet his parents and they’d become your besties instantly. lots of family dinners/outings. you wouldn’t mind it, you enjoy and appreciate the company. steve was a lost and lonely boy before he met you. you’re his entire everything to him!

•we all know he loves to sing, so obviously he would sing to you. take you on a tour of his home studio, and he would show you every little thing. like the other tour, he would pay close attention to detail when showing you stuff and doesn’t leave anything out. he would always take requests, no matter if it’s a song he’s sang countless times in concert and he’s probably sick and tired of singing, he wants it to sound perfect for you, just for you, only for you. cue the funny facial expressions and gestures as well while he sings!

if he saw you cry during one of his songs he’d instantly feel guilty, stop the music and run over to make sure you were okay. or he would simply mouth to you “i’m sorry” with sincerity in his eyes. idk that seems cute to me haha

are there any i’m leaving out? let me know!

[deepdarkdelights]

When I saw you mention ur releasing the fic, I was so excited!! I absolutely love this android concept. I love how you explained further with the details on how the world progressed into it, how it almost became a norm to have an android for one another. That to for several reasonings, especially the loneliness. Which I relate to a lot.

Can I also mention how Jin is the perfect candidate for this type of scenario! He heavily fits the boyfriend look almost realistic.

He was such a sweetheart, almost immediately being the teasing bf yet caring as fuck. I really liked the cute little moments a amongst both.  The part of him having small realisations over those little moments, feeling urges to do things that aren't "normal"

"This feeling like he was trapped behind a glass wall and on the verge of breaking through it and finally taking control of his body." I felt bad for him for feeling this way yet it was scary because that's a sign of it going wrong eventually too

The part when she said if he'd remember her

But the slow and scary transition of him liking mc, keeping her memories and replaying them with others, feeling in his safe space until that client forced themselves on him.

"It felt like he was throwing himself against solid glass - spider cracks slowly but surely spreading along its surface with each violent attack until it finally shattered and fell apart. And he could move. " I loved this description. He always felt trapped with the glass until he could finally open.

But that also lead him to cause other things and murdering. But at the same time, the client violated him completely. But him finally feeling like a human must have been terrifying and confusing tho nothing could be done after that

"He didn’t want to be decommissioned - he didn’t want to die. But he also didn’t want to let go of you. That was no longer an option. " I found this really sweet 😭 I know he's a yandere but its definitely a lot more softer than rough and how he cared for her. Really love your descriptions! 💘💘

But the sick feeling that washes and realisations of him having a virus. At the same time, mc always wanted to be special in his eyes and unfortunately she was in the most horrifying way.

I really really enjoyed this overall, the concept, your mind??, your the best at writing characters so crazy (in the best way I mean bc wow I love ur characters so much) I love your dialogues, your descriptions on everything is so amazing, how easily we can see the shift beginning to occur and how each one of them felt in their ways 💘 I really love android jin, hes coming my favourite after reading this 😭 idc I'm insane but I want him 🤣

Yay! I'm happy that you liked the android concept!

When I started writing Awake, I knew that I wanted the android to be a hyung line member. It just so happened that when I got the idea for the fic, Jin enlisted. And I really missed him and needed some comfort 😭

This fic takes place in the "Detroit Become Human" universe, so a lot of the ideas about the androids come from there - them operating under strict parameters, them learning how to feel emotions, etc. The scene where Jin "becomes human" and murders his client was heavily inspired by the Eden Club chapter in Detroit Become Human. I really didn't want to write about a sex-bot though and that would put the MC in a really difficult position because then what would make her any better than the other clients? And then I remembered that professional cuddlers existed and I wanted to play around with that.

The company that makes androids is Cyberlife, and when androids start "deviating" from the programming Cyberlife claims it's a virus that's making them simulate emotions. The actual question is - is it really a virus or is it sentience? And I think that's something interesting to think about in regard to Jin's fic.

In short, I really love DBH so I was happy to expand on that universe in my own way with my love for the yandere trope as well as BTS 😂