#like i feel like i lost my spark. i dunno | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoejosatoru · 5 months

Text

Off Limits

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bonten!Ran Haitani

Summary: Your older brother, Mikey, forbids any of his subordinates from putting their hands on you. Naturally, Ran takes that as a challenge.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Alcohol mentioned, drugging mentioned (reader not drugged), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, raw sex, cream pie, Mikey is an over protective brother, guns, pet names like angel, sugar, pretty girl, etc I think that's it? kind of an abrupt ending bc I'm silly like that

It was a boring day for Ran Haitani. Well, if you consider hunting rival gang members down and beating information out of them dull like Ran does. As much as he loves his job, the thrill of seeing another man's fear, feeling his fist connect with deadly precision, sometimes it was a bit monotonous. All work and no play makes Ran Haitani a dull boy and such.

He thought he'd fix this with a trip to Bonten's strip - no gentlemen's club. He could hear Koko yelling at him in his head for, 'lessening the value of their asset' by not using some euphemism. Ran didn't think it mattered much. Men just wanted to see women take their clothes off; they didn't care what it was called.

Usually going to the gentlemen's club made him feel better, but even this was feeling dull to him today. He's already fucked all the girls he had an interest in. Some of them multiple times. And they were great, sure, but he nothing that could spark his interest now. He needed fresh blood, so to speak.

Then you walked in. Ran had been idly drumming his fingers along the dark mahogany of the bar top, half listening to Rindou and Sanzu drone on about the days' events. His fingers halted the moment he saw you, straightening up and zeroing in. He'd never seen you before, he would have remember that face... that body. Were you a new hire? He wondered... No it couldn't be. The execs ran background checks on all the women in the club, which fell to Ran or his brother to do. No way you slipped through the cracks.

A prickle of anger flared through him as he wondered if you were dating one of the execs. He couldn't image one of the guys dating a woman like you and not bragging about it though. Maybe a patron's girl? You seemed to be looking for someone. Ran smiled. He could be a helpful guy, take you to your boyfriend... and then put a hit out on him. He didn't play fair, but he always played for keeps.

"Shit, who's that?" Rindou piped up behind him. Ran stifled a wave of possessiveness rushing through him. If he made it too obvious how bad he wanted you, this would become a contest he didn't want. At least Rindou's response to you confirmed that he didn't know you, so you couldn't be a dancer.

"Dunno," Ran shrugged, "But looks like she could use some help."

Sanzu rolled his eyes. "Since when do you care about helping random women."

Ran knocked back the rest of the whisky in his glass. "What can I say, I am a feminist." Sanzu and Rindou groaned at him, but his back was already to them making a beeline towards you. The closer he got, the more he was taken by you. You were so beautiful, but you also looked more nervous that he originally appraised. Maybe you were truly just lost. Wrong place, right time - for Ran at least.

"Hi," Ran said, mustering all the calmness in his voice he could manage. You looked him up and down, your pulse quickening - and not because you were nervous. The man standing before you was one of the finest you'd ever laid eyes on. But you couldn't let that distract you from your purpose here. "Haven't seen you around here before, are you lost?"

You shook your head. "No, I'm... looking for someone." You were vague, not sure of who this man was and not willing to trust anyone but who you were looking for.

"Oh? Well I'm one of the owners here," Ran replied casually, though he was dying to know who you were here for. "Maybe I could help you out?" His words sparked recognition in you, he could see it in how your eyes widened.

He's an owner? That mean he must know... "My brother, I'm looking for my brother." You felt the tiniest rush of relief that you bumped into someone who could truly help you.

Brother. Ran couldn't help but smile. This was the best case scenario; there was not issue of competition there. "And who's that, sweetheart?"

"Mikey."

"Mikey?" But it wasn't his own voice that verbalized his surprised. He whipped around, irritated to find Sanzu and Rindou followed him. Sanzu was shocked by the mention of the boss's name. Ran couldn't deny he was surprised too; he had no idea Mikey had a sister.

"Since when did Mikey have a sister?" Rindou questioned.

Sanzu scowled. "I knew it," he snapped, "But I didn't know it was her." Of course Sanzu, Mikey's little dog, would be privy to that information. But even he had never laid eye on you before, he simply was just aware a sister existed. "You're not supposed to be here," his comment pointed right at you.

"I know, I know," you replied quickly. Mikey was very clear to you that you were supposed to stay far away from his... line of business. "But it's an emergency. These guys came to my job and I- they were looking for me." You shivered at the memory of your close call.

Sanzu's eyes widened. Ran could practically hear the gears turning in his head: how was he going to use this as an opportunity to further win Mikey's favor? Ran rolled his eyes, as if Sanzu needed to do any more ass kissing.

"Did anyone follow you here?" Sanzu demanded.

"No - I don't think so," you replied. "Please can't I just talk to Mikey?"

"C'mon Sanzu, you're scaring the poor girl," Ran interjected. If Sanzu could use the situation to his benefit, so could he. "Even if someone did follow her, we'll handle it. Let's just get her to Mikey." He gave you an assuring smile that caused a blush to rise in your cheeks. Ran didn't miss it, of course, savoring the soft little smile you returned to him.

Sanzu didn't argue, telling you to follow him instead. He led the way, weaving through the tables where patrons sat. Ran and Rindou took up the rear behind you, following to Mikey's private room at the club. Ran gave a particularly nasty look to one man who stared at you a beat too long.

"Did you know Mikey had a sister?" Rindou whispered to Ran.

"No."

"Interesting."

Ran smiled, this was exactly the type of fun he needed. "Very."

Sanzu opened the door to Mikey's office. He was sitting alone at his desk, a whiskey in his hands as he looked through a pile of papers. His eye flicked up, annoyed at the intrusion until he saw you. He jumped out of his seat. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" he was half between anger and concern.

You rushed past Sanzu to your brother. Ran leaned against the closed door, eager to see how this played out. "I'm so sorry Mikey I- I know I'm not supposed to be here," the words tumbled out of you. "But there were men looking for me. I got scared."

Mikey's eyes darkened. "Tell me exactly what happened."

You sat down, realizing how badly you were shaking. You'd come here on pure adrenaline and now it was wearing off. You explained to Mikey how you had been in the back of the bakery where you work, when you heard a gruff voice asking for you. Well, it was really more like demanding. At first you had been afraid you fucked up someones order, but when you caught a peak at the 2 men looking for you you knew instantly they were not looking costumers.

Thankfully, they hadn't seen you and your coworker had the good sense to insist you were not working today. It took some convincing, but they finally left. You lied to your coworker and said you had a crazy ex. But really, you knew the symbol on their jackets was one your brother warned you of. A rival gang. And somehow, despite Mikey's best efforts to keep you far away from his lifestyle, they found you.

"You swear you weren't hurt?" Mikey questioned, softening now that he understood why you were here.

"I'm okay I promise, just a little shaken up," you replied, "I don't know what I'm gonna do about work."

"You're going to quit," Mikey state, shooting you a look when you balked. "I should have known something like this would happen. You got really fucking lucky today, y/n. If they had gotten to you... I don't even want to think about it. You have to stay close to me. Under my protection, there is no other way."

"But my coworkers could be in danger," you replied, sad at the thought of never getting talk shit about rude costumers while kneading dough again.

"I'll have my guys watch the shop for a few weeks to make sure it's safe. And tell me the name of the girl who had your back. I'll make sure she gets compensated," Mikey replied. Before you could protest, Mikey returned his attention to the men behind you. "Sanzu, get everyone to the meeting room. We need to discuss this immediately."

Sanzu slipped out obediently. Mikey eyed the two remaining men suspiciously, particularly the taller one. "And who do I have to thank for finding her?"

The taller one, Ran you believed his name was, smiled. "That would be me boss."

Mikey's jaw tightened. "Of course." He didn't express gratitude as you expected, but Mikey was not the most warm and fuzzy person. "You two can go wait in the meeting room. I'll be there shortly." They both nodded and slipped out wordlessly. You noticed, though, Ran eyes scan you one last time, which made your heart stutter in your chest.

Mikey instructed you to stay in his office while he went into the next room to have a meeting with his executives. "Don't worry, the club is guarded by my men, you're safe here. I'm gonna make sure everything works out, okay y/n?"

You nodded. You trusted your brother completely. Mikey squeezed your arm in attempt to be comforting before exiting the room. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the headache that was dealing with subordinates.

Despite the short amount of time lapsed, all his executives were there waiting. At least they knew their place, he thought. Dogs who come when called. The room was much more cramped than their board room back at HQ, but it worked for when they needed it. Mikey took his spot at the head of the table.

"Most of you don't know this, but I have a sister," Mikey began, his eye shifting around the room. All the men, besides those you had already met, looked surprised and confused. Sanzu was the only person who knew of your existence prior to this. Being he was Bonten's number 2, he had to ensure someone would look after you should anything happen to him.

"I've kept her secret from everyone because I didn't want her to be in danger. But somehow our rivals have found out about her," Mikey stopped, swallowing his anger as the weight of the situation hit him. "We are going to find the men looking for her and we are going to fucking kill them. All of them. Destroy their gang one member at a time if we have to."

The men nodded along, Sanzu particularly eagerly. He always excited at the thought of bloodshed.

"You're all to guard her with your life," Mikey continued, "I'll be working on a schedule for everyone to take turns keeping an eye on her while the rest of us continue work as usual."

"What if you bring her to work?" Koko asked. Mikey's brow furrowed, but he continued. "Our headquarters is secret and there always a bunch of us around. That's gotta be safer than just one of us at an apartment. And then you don't have to worry about shifts."

Leave it to Koko to find a way to be more efficient. Mikey debated it. On one hand he had a good point; it was probably safer to have you surrounded by more people. And then Mikey would alway be around at work and when you went home. Because he was definitely making you move in with him, at least until he was sure there weren't any active threats against you. But at HQ you'd in the middle of his business and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Plus there were other concerns he had...

"I think that's a good idea," Ran piped up.

"I agree," Takeomi said, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Of course they like the idea. Mikey wasn't an idiot, he knew you were a pretty girl. He's seen the way men look at you and being a man himself, he knows what those looks mean. It makes him sick to his stomach. It's not that he is some control freak that would say you're not allowed to date anyone, but he has high standards when it comes to who should be allowed to date you. And this lot of men don't even come close. They were great employees, cunning and devious, but he wouldn't want their hands on you. Having you around would be like throwing blood in shark infested waters.

Still, he couldn't deny it HQ would be the safest place for you to be. Mikey sighed. "Alright, you're right Koko," he replied, acknowledging only his white haired subordinate. Had it been anyone else who suggested it he may have said no, but Mikey trusted Koko not to have ulterior motives. He wasn't so obsessed with getting women in his bed like the others. "But there will be rules. Her safety is the number one priority. I'll expect you all to take a bullet for her if needed."

No one objected. Signing on to Bonten meant being willing to take a bullet for Mikey. What was one more person?

"And no one fucking touches her," Mikey stated, looking every single one of them in the eyes so they'd recognize the weight of his words. "If you do, I'll put a bullet in you."

Ran's lips twitched ever so slightly. He couldn't say he was surprised, but he was still amused. He was a man who loved a challenged and Mikey just made this all the more fun for him.

***

Moving in and working with Mikey was not as bad as you thought it would be. Mikey's "apartment" was more like a penthouse and did not make you miss your shabby little apartment at all. You had been worried about privacy, but you had your own room and bathroom down the hall and he gave you space when you needed it. You were actually liking the arrangement, getting to spend more time with your brother than you had in a while.

Even going to work with him wasn't so bad. At first he expected you to just sit around all day, but you insisted on doing something while you were there. He was very wary of it, not wanting you to get too involved in his way of life, but eventually allowed you to do some small stuff. You cleaned up a bit, made coffees, helped organize some old files. Simple stuff.

Then you discovered the HQ had a kitchen. It was little, but Mikey was more than happy to buy all the gadgets you needed to make it functional. Since then you spent your days baking, the thing you missed most. It worked out perfectly, it kept you busy with work Mikey deemed safe and the guys got fed delicious pastries. Everyone was happy.

In fact, you were surprised by how much you were enjoying this. There was still an element of fear knowing that the bad guys knew who you were and sure you got frustrated you couldn't go out with friends, but you did like going to work Mikey.

There was another reason you enjoyed going to Bonten HQ with Mikey so much. Ran Haitani. The attraction you felt towards him the first time you saw him has only grown. He charmed you with ease, like he wasn't even trying. Ran, of course, was trying. Specifically he was trying to make his flirtatiousness seem as casual as possible, as to not upset Mikey. He loved testing the limits, seeing what he could get away with.

"What're you making, sugar?" Ran asked as he entered the kitchen. He'd started calling you that nickname after you started supplying the execs with endless sweets. From anyone else you would think it was corny, but from Ran and it made your heart skip.

"Peanut butter brownies," you replied, taking in his appearance. He was always dressed well, but today he looked particularly good in an immaculate lavender pinstripe three piece suit. You reckoned no other man could pull it off.

He looked you up and down, a sly smile on his face. "Can't wait to get a taste." Your cheeks colored. You knew he was talking about the brownies, but the way he looked at you...

"You sure do have a sweet tooth, Ran."

"Well you're certainly hard to resist. Your baking, that is," he said with an innocent smile.

"Is there something specific you'd like to try?" you asked, returning his faux innocent banter.

Ran grinned, "I could think of something." It was then you realized the two of you had gravitated towards each other. Ran towered over you, his rich, warm scent filling your lungs.

Before you could speak, your brother's voice shattered the tension between the two of you. "Am I interrupting something?"

Ran turned, a calm smile on his face. "Nothing, boss. Y/n here was just telling me about the brownies she made. Was hoping she'd let me try 'em." He spoke so casually, nothing like the low simmer in his voice that had been pulling you in just seconds ago.

"Yeah, I bet," Mikey replied flatly. "A word alone, Ran." Mikey left without another word.

"Save a corner piece for me, they're my favorite," Ran smiled at you before slipping out of the room.

"I thought I made myself clear," Mikey stated when they were alone.

"I don't know what you're talking about, boss," Ran replied, that stupid smile still on his face. Mikey wanted to punch it off him.

"Do you think I'm stupid Haitani?" Mikey asked, his jaw tightening.

"Not at all, boss."

"Then you know that I know what you're up to," his eyes narrowed.

"I just wanted to try some bro-" Mikey cut him off by pounding the wall next to his head. Ran didn't even flinch.

"If you touch my sister you're a dead man," Mikey snapped.

Ran smiled again. "Wouldn't dream of it."

But dream he did. Hell he straight up fantasized about it. What you'd look like bent over those counters you constantly worked at, looking up at him with those pretty eyes while on your knees, how sweet you'd taste... He thought about it all. But more importantly, he planned.

Later that evening Mikey addressed the incident in the kitchen with you. "I don't like you talking to Ran."

"What? What's wrong with him?"

Mikey almost laughed. What wasn't wrong with him. "He's just..." he searched for the right word, not wanting to scare you. "An idiot."

You laughed. "All men are idiots." Mikey gave you a look, but couldn't help but smile.

"I'll ignore that comment," Mikey replied, "But he's just involved in bad shit. I don't want you getting close to people in my line of work, even the one's I trust. Plus, he only wants one thing."

You rolled your eyes. "Why do I feel like I'm about to get the birds and bees talk."

"I'm serious."

"Oh, I know you are," you half sighed, half laughed. "Like I said, all men are idiots. I know what men want, I've dealt with plenty of guys like that. I'm sure I can handle myself. Plus, he doesn't seem that bad."

"Well he is. So stay away from him," Mikey said with finality.

"What're you gonna do, kill him?" you asked, half joking.

"If I have to," Mikey replied so casually you couldn't tell if he was joking or not. You knew he would never hurt you, but you weren't blind to what your brother was capable of.

"You're way over thinking this," you replied, realizing that it would not be worth it to argue over this. "I don't see Ran like that. He's just another weirdo you work with. I'm not interested in him."

That seemed to appease Mikey. You were a better liar than you thought.

Since the day Mikey found you in the kitchen with Ran, the two of you were never alone together. Neither of you address what was going on between the two of you, but you knew he felt it. You could tell by the way he looked at you. You were certain it was not a one-sided crush. However, you were smart enough to know it could not be openly pursued.

Then, one day Ran appeared to you in the kitchen. Alone. "Mikey's out on errands."

For a half second you wondered why he was telling you this, but then it hit you. "Oh." Mikey was gone. That meant...

There was nothing more to be said. You were on each other in an instant, as if taken over by autopilot. Ran's hands felt so good on your body, already wrapping around your waist. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, desperate for more.

Ran wasn't patient in the best of times, but today? He couldn't wait another second to have you. He lifted you up on the counter with ease, pulling a half giggle half gasp from your lips. He moved skillfully, stripping your lower half without ever breaking away from the kiss until he dropped to his knees in front of you.

"Been dreaming about tasting you," he hummed against your thighs. He licked a stripe up your pussy and groaned. "So sweet. Knew you would be."

Ran buried his face between your legs. He knew he didn't have a ton of time and wasn't going to waste a second of it. His plush lips attached to your clit, making you gasp. You knotted your fingers through his lilac hair, needing something to steady yourself. His teased you, pressing against your aching entrance.

"Fuck Ran," you gasped, hooking your thighs over his shoulders and locking him against. Ran loved it, the feeling of your plush thighs pressed against him, how desperate you sounded. He needed to see you completely fall apart.

Ran slipped a finger into your throbbing hole and returned to sucking at your clit. You gripped his hair so tightly it made his scalp ache, but that only egged him on more. The feeling of his fingers curling inside you and his tongue lapping at your clit was too much for you. Your body shuddered as came, moaning his name. Ran savored every second, not pulling away until he was sure you were completely finished.

He stood up, about to kiss you again when his phone went off. He checked it, cursing when he saw Rindou's message. "Mikey's on his way back," He practically groaned. Ran almost laughed at how you pouted.

"I want you so bad."

"I know sugar, believe me," his eyes flicked down to the tent in his pants, making your eyes widen. "But if you're brother kills me before I get to fuck you then we're both shit outta luck." He gave a quick kiss. "Promise I won't make you wait too long." And with that he was gone.

***

It had only been two weeks, but it felt like an eternity. You thought there had been a lot of tension before you hooked up, but now it was down right unbearable. You both seemed to be avoiding each other, not because you didn't want to see each other, but because you couldn't trust yourselves not to pounce on each other. The few times you were in the same room together were a true test of endurance.

The way Ran looked at you drove you wild. His eyes would scan your body in a way that would seem casual to anyone else, but you could feel him undressing you, thinking of all the ways he would ravish you. It made your heart race and your knees buckle. Ran had one hell of a poker face, but the glint in his eyes told you that he too was dying to get his hands on you.

By the time a month passed, you were wondering if Ran was ever going to make a move. Then, on a Thursday night just as you were about to head to bed you got a text.

Ran: Come get the door. Quietly

Your heart raced, wondering if you were reading it right. The door? As in the front door where you lived with Mikey? He wouldn't dare come here, not with Mikey at home. But you had to check. Your crept out of your room, pausing to listen for any signs of Mikey being awake. His room was on the opposite side of the house from yours, but you didn't dare get to close and risk waking him.

When you finally opened the door, you were shocked to see Ran standing there with a calm smile on his face, despite his text.

"What're you-"

Ran held a finger up to his lip, silencing you. "Let's talk somewhere private, yeah?" The way his eyes flicked over you, smirking at the tiny shirts and tight little tank top you wore told you he wasn't looking to just talk. This was a bad idea, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

The next thing you knew, Ran was in your room. It was weird to see him there, in your private space. It made your stomach churn with anticipation.

"What're you doing here?" you tried again.

Ran sat on your bed, making himself comfortable. "I couldn't stay away from you any longer."

"But here? With Mikey at home?" you questioned.

"Mikey and Sanzu hang out and drink every Thursday night," Ran replied, "They always come in Friday with hangovers. I was feeling generous and bought them a few bottles of their favorite whisky for this evening. I imagine they'll both be sleeping well with how much they drank tonight." Your eyes widened as you processed his words. Ran didn't tell you that he slipped some sleeping pills in their drinks. You didn't need to know that; all you needed to know was that Mikey was very unlikely to disturb you two tonight."

"Are you saying-"

"I'm saying, if you can be quiet for me sugar, we can have some fun tonight," Ran smiled wickedly. "Whaddya say? Can you be a good girl and be quiet?"

"Yes." The words were barely past your lips when Ran pulled you on to his lap. Your straddled him, your bodies easily fitting together. You replayed Ran's kiss countless times since hooking up, but feeling it again blew your imagination away. His lips and tongue moved expertly, intoxicating you. Any concerns of getting caught fell to the wayside as your hips rolled against him, feeling hims harden under you.

In a flash, Ran had you flipped over, your hands pinned above your head. He licked his lips as he looked down at you. "God the things I would do to you if we had time." He kissed at your neck, nipping it lightly. He was careful to not leave a mark, but couldn't resist the way it made you gasp. "Promise one day I'll be able to do everything I want to you. But for now I just gotta be inside you."

You nodded eagerly, wanting to feel him in you so badly it ached. Ran practically tore your clothes off as you pawed at his. His fingers slipped between your legs, grinning smugly as he felt how slick you were. He toyed with your clit before sliding two fingers inside your tight pussy. He watched as your wriggled and gasped at him pressing your g spot.

He drank in this sight, relished the rush of having you splayed out and needy for him in Mikey's own home. Fucking you like this was the ultimate fuck you to Mikey. He could practically get off on the power trip of it alone.

Ran continued to finger you as he sucked on your tits. Your fingers tangled in his hair, scraping his scalp. He hummed in pleasure as he took your nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud as he played with your clit. The sensation grew too intense, pushing you over the edge.

You let out a moan and Ran's free hand clamped over your mouth. He secretly loved that you couldn't keep yourself quiet, but couldn't risk getting caught before he got to fuck you.

"Thought you were gonna be quiet for me?" Ran teased as you came down from your high.

"Fuck I'm sorry Ran, just felt so good," you replied breathlessly. He couldn't even pretend to be mad.

"That okay pretty girl," he replied, "But I'm gonna fuck you even better than that, so you better keep that pretty little mouth shut." You nodded eagerly, anything to get Ran inside you.

Ran stroked his long, hard cock as he spread your thighs apart more. He admiring how slick your pussy looked, his cock aching to feel you wrapped around him. He lined himself up to you, pushing in. His held fell back as his bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan.

"Fuck, angel, prepped you and you're still so fucking tight." He kept his voice low. He rolled his hips, feeling your pussy suck him. "Feels so fucking good."

You didn't trust yourself with a reply. The way Ran thrust into you made your entire body flutter with pleasure. You felt him so deep it left you breathless, his cock hitting spots in you you didn't know existed. You grabbed the back of his neck, burying your face into it. You sucked and nipped at his neck, trying to prevent yourself from crying out. The more Ran fucked you, the hotter it was to keep quiet. Your teeth sunk into the junction of his neck and shoulder and Ran relished in the sting of your bite.

"Fuck Ran," you whined against his skin as pleasure consumed your senses. Your pussy throbbed around him as you came, making his thrusts falter.

"Shit baby so good," Ran panted. His cocked twitch as he finally released, filling you with his cum. He slid out, a smug grin on his face as he watched his cum leak out of you and make a mess of your bed. He was debating if he should risk a picture when he heard the familiar metallic click of a gun cocking.

"Mikey what the fuck!" you gasped, covering yourself in your sheets, though he wasn't even looking at you. His dark, cold stare was solely on Ran as he point his gun at the lilac haired man's head.

"You're fucking dead Haitani."

#I finally wrote something who cheered #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani headcanons #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers hcs #ran haitani imagine

561 notes · View notes

b0r3dtod3ath · 3 months

Note

hi! could i req lando x old money!reader blurb? maybe like meeting her parents, or going to her father’s annual christmas gala together, i dunno..

thanks!!

A/N: Hii! Omg I love this idea. Actually it popped up in my brain last summer but I never really wrote it so big thanks for requesting! Let me know if any of you are interested in a part two!

Word count: ~1.8k

Saint Tropez - one of the most popular places in French Riviera. Known for its beautiful weather, sun-kissed beaches and picturesque landscape. Every summer Y/N's family would spend at least a month there. Cruising on a yacht and resting in a mansion could get quite boring when done alone so last summer Y/N's parents invited the Norisses. The two families had been friends since the early 2000s, famously attending many high-society galas and events. Their kids used to know each other but haven't met in a long time due to their hectic lives. Lando would be a bit ashamed to admit but he was excited to spend his summer break there. Being with his parents made him feel like a teenager again. Not only that but also the fact that he couldn't wait to meet Y/N. He had heard about her from his sisters but in fact, has little to no memories of her.

As the families met at the dock, the yacht swaying in the background, the two couples hugged and laughed leaving the young ones to awkwardly greet each other. Y/N, taking off her sunglasses that protected her eyes from the sun reflecting in the blue water, approached with a subtle smile that held a hint of curiosity. She extended her hand, a gesture in a formal but warm manner. "Lando, isn't it?" her melodic voice hit her companion's ears. Lando, with his easy charm and green-blue eyes that would make most of the ladies lose their minds, clasped her hand in a firm yet gentle handshake. "That's right. A pleasure to finally meet you." His words were accompanied by a genuine smile, a sigh of relief.

The first evening brought the families together for a two-family dinner on the yacht's deck. The air was infused with the scent of sea salt and the warm sun was just to set. The table, covered with crystal and silverware, glowed in the soft light of candles. Y/N and Lando found themselves seated next to each other, their parents subtly orchestrating the arrangement. At first, they didn't talk to each other much - focusing mainly on the food and wine while also encouraging their parents to tell some stories from when they were young. The two of them exchanged glances and smiles still waiting for the other one to make the first move. After the last course, as the dessert and coffee reached its end, Lando found a moment to break away. Leaning towards Y/N, he suggested, "Would you care for a stroll around the yacht? The night is too beautiful to be just sitting here.". With a subtle spark in her eyes, Y/N agreed. The two of them excused themselves as they slipped away from their parents.

Under the moonlit sky, Y/N and Lando strolled along the yacht's deck, the soft glow of the ship's lights casting a warm ambience. The Mediterranean breeze whispered through the night, and the distant sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation. They paused at the railing, the yacht gently rocking beneath them. Y/N leaned on the side, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Lando joined her, the moon casting a silvery glow on his face. As the conversation flowed, they peeled away the layers of their lives, revealing dreams and aspirations. They went from talking about Lando's work to more deep, secret thoughts and feelings. Y/N wanted to avoid the Formula One subject, she knew who he was but didn't want him to think that it was a category she put him in. She spoke about her love for literature, and although Lando didn't have much to say in this field he was more than happy to listen. He found himself getting lost in her beauty as she shared about her passion. The night held an intimacy, a shared exploration of vulnerabilities. Y/N, confessed her love for the quiet moments, the beauty found in simplicity. It was surprising to her when Lando agreed with her "I know I'm rather a fast-paced life guy but I feel like my lifestyle allows me to appreciate moments like this even more". Y/N finally looked up from the shiny waves crashing to the side of the boat to see the man next to her looking at her with admiration. They held eye contact and smiled in silence, the chillness of a summer night ignored. That night they both felt a connection forming between them.

A few days later, as no clouds hung over St. Tropez, Y/N found herself once again on the terrace. Immersed in the embrace of a plush chair, she was captivated by the ending of one of the books she found on a bookshelf. Lando, drawn to the lovely scene, approached with a warm smile. "Mind if I sit here with you?" he asked. "Of course, Lan. Please, join me," Y/N responded, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. As he settled into his chair, warm sunlight washed both of their bodies. Y/N, bookmarking her page, looked up with a soft smile. "Have you read 'The Great Gatsby' before?" Lando shook his head, "No, but I've heard it's a classic. What's it about?". Y/N went on trying not to say too much and Lando listened, captivated by the vivid imagery painted by her descriptions. After a comfortable pause, the girl looked into her companion's eyes "You know, they turned this into a movie. How about we watch it together later?" Lando's grin widened at this idea, "That sounds fantastic. I'd love to.". "Great, meet me in my room at 9pm, I will figure out some snacks." she said, got up and left him alone.

Lando found himself standing outside Y/N's bedroom door at 9 sharp. The air was filled with anticipation as he raised his hand to knock. A soft sound of footsteps and the clinking of plates hinted at Y/N's preparations within. Y/N opened the door, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Right on time. Come on in," she welcomed. The aroma of the room was very comforting, Lando couldn't explain it but it reminded him of Y/N a lot. He stepped into the dimly lit space, the flickering light from scented candles creating a cozy ambience. The room was decorated with touches of luxury, reflecting the social status of the family. Y/N, wearing comfortable yet stylish pyjamas, gestured towards the plush seating area she had arranged. "Make yourself at home. The movie is all set up," she said, her enthusiasm evident. As they settled in, the glow from the movie screen bathed the room in a soft luminescence. The cinematic adaptation of "The Great Gatsby" unfolded. Y/N and Lando shared the experience, their thoughts and emotions reflected in the glow of the screen. Throughout the movie, their laughter and shared comments added a layer of connection to the evening. The subtle tension between Gatsby and Daisy echoed in the room, mirroring the unspoken bond developing between Y/N and Lando. As the credits rolled, Y/N turned to Lando with a satisfied smile. "What did you think?" she asked, her eyes searching for his reaction. Lando, his gaze lingering on Y/N, grinned. "It was incredible.". To be honest, he didn't remember half of the movie as a beautiful person next to him captivated his attention. Y/N mirrored his smile. After a pause, Lando asked, "Do you think Gatsby's love for Daisy was genuine, or just an illusion he created?". Y/n leaned back, thinking about the question. "It's a bit of both, I think. Gatsby's love was genuine, but the illusions he created were born out of his desperation to recapture a past that had slipped away." Their discussion flowed seamlessly, weaving through literary analysis and personal interpretations. Deep eye contact was comforting and neither of them wanted to end it. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Maybe we can make this a tradition. You should pick the next movie" she suggested, her eyes holding a promise of more shared movie nights.

And the days passed just like that. On the last night, as the clock struck midnight, the yacht sailed under a blanket of stars, the moon casting its silver glow on the deck. Lando, overwhelmed with his thoughts, wandered outside. The night air was infused with a sense of bittersweet anticipation. There, on the deck, he found Y/N, a alone figure under the dark sky. The distant sound of waves protected them from the silence. Y/N sat in contemplation, a cigarette in hand, the soft moonlight illuminating her features. "Mind if I join you?" Lando's voice cut through the serenity, and Y/N looked up, a small laugh escaped her lips as she retrospected on one of their first interactions. She allowed him to, the smoke from her cigarette to twist into the air. Lando sensed a subtle shift in Y/N's demeanour, a quiet sadness that hung in the air like the sea mist. "You seem a bit distant tonight," he remarked, his eyes tried to focus on the horizon but seemed to be too curious of her. Y/N took a drag of her cigarette, exhaling slowly. "I guess I've been thinking about tomorrow," she confessed, her eyes didn't even dare to look at him as it would cause even more pain. Lando nodded, a shared understanding passing between them. The unspoken bond they had formed over the past weeks had transformed the usually boring yacht trip into a place of shared laughter, quiet conversations, and stolen glances, making both of them feel like stupid teenagers who would sneak around behind their parents' backs. The impending departure, however, indicated an end to this state. "I'll miss this," Y/N admitted, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments. "I don't want this to end just because the trip does," Lando confessed, his voice steady. "Maybe we can explore what this could be beyond St. Tropez. I'd love the chance to continue getting to know you, to see where this could go." Sea, once the witness of shared stories and vulnerability, now observed the promise of possibilities.

Weeks passed since Lando and Y/N parted ways. Mornings felt different for Lando, mainly due to the lack of two things: sun and Y/N. He often catches himself wondering what Y/N could be doing at this very moment. Yes, he could just open Instagram and DM her but he felt like he needed to do something more refined. Although they got to know each other pretty well, he didn't want her to think that he was just a cocky, young fuckboy who wants nothing more than just a body. He had to show her that he truly cared about her. Then, one morning, a letter arrived. The envelope was outstanding, decorated with intricate patterns and sealed with a wax emblem. Lando's heart quickened as he recognized Y/N's handwriting, the anticipation building with each passing moment. As he carefully opened the envelope, Lando realized that their story was far from over. Whatever that envelope contained held the promise of a new beginning, a chance to reignite the spark that had ignited in the hot, summer days. With trembling hands, he opened the letter, his heart racing with anticipation.

my masterlist

here's a fic i wrote last summer that reminds me of this scenario

feb 5 2024

#writers on tumblr #fan fic writing #x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando Norris imagines

214 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

Note

How about Kieran practicing asking out his crush in front of some Pokémon in the terrarium? Oh and said crush is currently using the synchro machine with a Pokémon who can easily blend in with the ones found in the terrarium and is among the group watching / listening to him. Thankfully his crush likes him back.

Here's some cuteness for Pokemon Day! ❤

..........

'Man, this synchro machine is fun.'

It was just another warm and sunny day in the Terarium, with you running around as a Smeargle and painting on rocks to your heart's content. A few others were doing the exact same thing, not knowing that you were actually a human trainer in disguise.

It was nice becoming a Pokemon for a little while. You didn't have any immediate responsibilities nor would you attract unwanted attention from others.

People kept coming up to you asking for battles, especially after you became the new BB League Champion. Even now you didn't think it was that big of a deal...

Besides, you still felt bad about ripping the title from Kieran.

You knew that he needed to be humbled and beaten in battle, although the guilt lingered as you recalled how devastated he was that he lost to you again.

Fortunately, things have gotten a lot better for him, as he learned to enjoy Pokémon battles again and realize it's just a silly title at the end of the day.

It's not something he needed to have in order to be worthy of love and respect.

All in all, your friendship has grown stronger than ever. To the point where the casual battle you both had didn't stress him out. He enjoyed it despite its outcome.

But today you haven't seen him anywhere in the academy, although Drayton pointed out that he ventured into the Terarium...and said nothing more than that.

You figured he just needed time to ease back into everything after a much-needed break in Kitakami.

Of course you two recently saved the whole land from Pecharunt's possession-spree. So you'd give him time to ease back into things.

So while he was doing whatever in the Terarium, you were just living the life of a Smeargle, painting a pokeball on the face of a boulder. One or two others have joined you, inspired by your art, and a few stray Deerlings and other Pokémon stopped by to observe.

Then suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.

"Th-This is kinda awkward, but...you think you and your friends could help me out?"

"Smear??" Spinning around, you completely forgot you were a Smeargle for a second, eyes wide to see Kieran there, and he was holding...a paper?

'Oh right..I'm a Pokémon, he can't tell..' You realize and internally sigh with relief, curious as to what he wrote.

"I'm just..t-trying to ask out this person I really like, but..I'm too embarrassed to do it in front of people. So...Pokémon might be better? I dunno.." He grumbled to himself, shaking his head. "Just let me know if this is good or not."

You looked to the other Pokemon, who seemed to understand him with a collection of nods, chirps, and growls. You gave your approval with a thumbs-up.

The way Kieran smiled at you made your heart skip a beat.

"Okay, th-thanks...ahem.." Clearing his throat, he glanced at the paper, before pocketing it and looking directly at you. "So..[y/n]..."

'It's...me? Oh my arceus..' You held onto your tail brush, trying not to give yourself away but at the same time feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 'Be cool, be cool, be cool-'

"I know I..wasn't a great friend back then, but I'm glad we were able to move past all of that stuff. You've made me happy in ways I could never imagine. I lost my spark..and you were the one to put it back into me, and I'm forever grateful. That being said..I-I...um...I'm ready to be more than just friends....so....I.....w-wowzers..this is tough..I dunno if I can do this." His posture became slumped, and you frowned a little.

"Smear, smearg!"

'Kieran, c'mon..don't give up.' You silently encouraged.

He perked up at your cry and saw the other Pokémon cheering him on, and he shyly smiled. "Thanks guys, so..would you...um..like to go out with me, [y/n]? Or wait, that might be comin' off too strong..uh...wanna grab somethin' at the cafeteria later---no, no..that sounds too much like Drayton...ugh....I'll be fine."

Rubbing his hands over his face, he calmed himself down and looked at the group, sheepish. "Worst they can say is no, right? But...I-I hope they don't. They mean a lot to me..although if they wanna stay friends, I don't mind that too.." He mumbled.

You felt a strong tug on your heartstrings upon seeing the despondent look on his face. Like he was expecting you to reject him right away.

It made you wanna desynchronize right now and reassure him you accept his confession, but you didn't wanna scare him with the fact you were listening this whole time.

Maybe you could drop subtle hints.

You wanted to express your feelings for him, too, in your own way.

So after the Pokémon dispersed, and Kieran stood there pondering over what to do next, he noticed you walking up to him, handing him a rock.

"What's this..?"

After close examination, he realized there was a heart painted on it.

"You think [y/n] would like this?" He blinked, before smiling and kneeling down, patting you on the head. "Thanks, Smeargle...y'know your tail color is also their favorite color. Funny coincidence, right?"

"Smear.." You pointed to yourself, tilting your head.

"Yes. You." He laughed a little. "You don't happen to belong to them, do ya?"

"Smear..smear!" You nod.

"Oh? Where's your trainer?"

"..........."

A look of realization crosses his face. "Hold on-"

Suddenly, you switched off the synchro machine, causing your Smeargle to vanish and him to freeze, now understanding what was going on.

It was you.

This whole time you were synched to it, listening to his confession and watching him fumble over his words like an idiot.

After you emerged from your hiding place, back in your actual body and Smeargle at your side, you searched around for Kieran--only to find him sitting by a small pond, his back to you.

"Ki?"

His shoulders were tense, although he didn't dare look at you. Instead his face was buried into his hands, trying to make himself look as small as possible.

Maybe, just maybe, if he sat very very still....you wouldn't see him.

But unfortunately luck didn't shine on him this time, as you just calmly sat beside him, chuckling. "C'mon, that was actually really sweet. Practicing in front of Pokémon. They don't judge."

"...I-I didn't know you were there.." He spoke, voice slightly muffled. "I'm so embarrassed...this isn't how it was s'pposed to go-"

"Well, if you want my answer..it's yes."

"......huh?" Peeking through his fingers, he gazed at you for a long while, wondering if you were joking or not. But the look in your eyes was warm, and your smile genuine.

"I was trying to use Smeargle to express my own feelings, but just so there's no confusion...I'll go out with you, Kieran." You told him, feeling your heart beating fast again. "You make me happy and..I wanna keep being there for you. Through the good and the bad. So...I'm ready to be more than friends, too."

He was stunned. "Really..?"

"Yes." You opened your arms up to him, and a few moments later he uncovered his face to hug you tightly. It lasted for several seconds, before you pulled away to kiss his cheek.

Immediately, he began burning red. "W-Wowzers...so..we're official, huh? Just like that?"

"Yep." You chuckled at his flusteredness, intertwining your fingers with his own. "And if you wanna go on a little cafeteria date, I don't mind."

All Kieran could do was nod and smile, his gaze going to your Smeargle who was painting absentmindedly on a different rock. And when it was done, it presented you two with a simple drawing of you holding hands with him.

They were stick figures, but it was still a masterpiece.

You got yourselves a little wingman in the form of a Painter Pokémon.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon kieran #smeargle #i chose smeargle bc its everywhere in the terarium #fluff

222 notes · View notes

ackermans-posts · 2 years

Text

❣︎✩ — 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

feat: eren yeager x f. reader

warnings: sexual content, corruption, inexperienced reader, thigh riding, couch sex, pet names, size kink, penetration, dirty talk, slight mean eren, but overall sexy, minors dni

note: enjoy :)

a whole week of eren loving how cute and fragile you are, how horny and needy you can get without even realizing it — practically throwing yourself at him every chance you can get. he doesn’t stop you though, does he? no, because he secretly loves how you walk around the house in adorable pink lace panties and a cute little tank top. his gaze always travels towards the cute buds peeking out of your shirt, and fuck you for that because those nights always end up with him in his room, jerking his cock to the sheer thought of you.

but one thing he fucking hates is how riled up he gets when you dumbly ask to sit on his lap, wanting to be closer to him. it’s almost as if you don’t realize how you grind on his thigh, rubbing your clothed pussy against his leg almost every single time.

“are you in heat?” he says, gritting his teeth like he’s upset with you. your cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you have to cover your face with your hands to hide from him. you don’t have the strength to face him when his handsome face contorts in angry features, it scares you.

“w-what do you mean?” you whisper, fighting the urge to continue with your shameful act as he tightens his hold on your hips.

“just what the fuck do you think you’re doing grinding on me like that?” he spits. a rush of shame fills your body that consumes you whole. why are you doing that? you hadn’t even noticed — too focused on that slight spark of pleasure you felt with each rock of your hips.

“m’ sorry ‘ren.. jus feel really weird right now.. i dunno what’s wrong with me,” you answer quietly, feeling tears burn at the back of your eyes. the ache between your legs stays persistent and you feel lost without the release your body craves.

eren feels a little bad now, being so harsh for no good reason. he should be taking care of you, make you feel so fucking good you won’t be able to stand up straight. “nothings wrong with you baby,” eren murmurs, lifting your chin so you can look up at him, “but that feeling must suck, hm?”

you nod as you feel your lips tremble, your core clenching at the petname erens given you. you stare at him and he smiles, the look making the ache feel all sticky and needy.

“must feel like you jus’ wanna rub that pretty pussy all over something, yea?” he taunts, leaning down to kiss your neck, gently licking and sucking at the sensitive skin. you whimper and nod vigorously, hoping he understands, hoping he’ll help you.

“when you fuck yourself on my thigh, does it help? does it feel so good that you jus’ wanna do it all over again?” eren teases, feeling your legs tightening over his. a murmur of ‘yesyesyesyes’ escapes your lips as he begins to bumps his leg up and down, the friction rubbing against your swollen clit thru your panties.

“please ren’, want it to feel all better” you whimper loud, holding onto his chest as you ride his thigh. his dick hardens, and even he becomes unwilling to deny his pleasure any longer. his thumbs find place on your nipples, squeezing gently as his other hand forces your hips to move faster.

“that’s it. take what you need princess” he grunts, and not even seconds later you’re moaning his name, mouth gaping and whining about how good it feels.

“somethings happening, ‘ren.” you cry, rubbing faster and faster until a sharp pleasure stops you, blinding your eyes and exploding your insides in a fit of ecstasy.

eren groans, eyeing the wet spot now formed on his pants before taking a look at your face. you already look so fucked out its adorable that you think it’s over so soon. “good girl, came so pretty for me,” he smiles, bringing your face in for a messy kiss.

“ren’… felt so good.” you whine, drooping your body over his. he unzips his jeans, pulling his waistband down to reveal his cock, all pretty and veiny hard. your eyes bug out of their sockets, and your pussy contracts around nothing at the sight. “bet it feels even worse now, yea? like you jus’ wanna sink your needy pussy down on my cock?”

“pleaseplease” you cry, and eren wastes no time, sliding your panties to the side and rubbing the tip of his dick thru your folds over and over again till he finally inches his cock all the way down to the hilt, your gummy walls already sucking him in so tight, he’s worried he’ll cum within seconds. you cry, begging and pleading for more time to adjust to his massive girth.

“gonna let me corrupt you, baby?”

#eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren drabble #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger imagines #eren fanfiction #eren jaeger smut #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren aot #aot thirst #eren thirst #aot boys #aot drabble #aot imagines #attack on titan thirst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin imagine #aot fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

in1-nutshell · 30 days

Note

Uh hi, this my first ever resquest, and i'm sorry if things don't make sense, english is not my first language.

Could i get tfp bot buddy who has shadow powers(like can turn into one and use them as portals), has the appearance of nightmares and is close to Ultra Magnus(dunno if is platonic, familial or romantic)?

They kinda been living as Ultra Magnus shadow since forever and help him on missions,tasks or just anything, but in one of their missions, the decepticons maneged to reallyyy hurt buddy and buddy, not wanting to die, retreated to Ultra Magnus shadow and went into stasis to heal but Ultra Magnus didn't knew that and thought that buddy had perished.

Only now on earth did buddy finally wakes up.

Could i get reactions from the team or something like that if not, that's okay :) also love your writing

Magnus was so close to having a spark attack when he saw Buddy pop out of his shadow the first time they used their powers, that's for sure.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy with shadow manipulation and being Ultra Magnus's Amica Endura

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Buddy met Magnus through Optimus.

He introduced them to Magnus during the earlier years of the war as his Second in Command.

Magnus just thought he was getting to know another coworker.

A couple missions later, several late-night conversations and some free time later they become Amica Endura.

“You know you never did tell HOW you became Amica with Commander shoulder pads over there. Was it a bet you loss?”--Wheeljack

“No bets were lost Wheeljack. We became Amica out of our own choice and free will. Nothing else to do with it.”--Buddy

“Sure…”--Wheeljack

Buddy loves to prank Magnus with their shadow powers.

Magnus does not find this funny… but he does find it a bit endearing after a while.

Being an Outlier was rare to find in this world.

Even rarer to find after the war broke out.

So many had been the first ones targeted at the beginning of the war there were barely anymore left.

It was a risk putting Buddy in the Wrecker’s, but so far it brought greater success to the unit than any point in their formation.

“Freeze Autobot scum!”—Random Decepticon

Buddy putting their servo in the air almost mockingly.

“There’s three of you and one of me… what ever shall I do?”--Buddy

Buddy’s servos start glowing a bit.

“Have you met my Amica?”--Buddy

“Why would we—”—Random Con

SLAM!

Magnus takes out the three mechs after appearing from behind thanks to Buddy’s shadow powers.

“That was brutal!”--Buddy

Magnus fixes his blaster a bit.

“I hate when you put yourself in these situations.”--Magnus

“Its in the job description Mags.”--Buddy

“Buddy we’ve been over this.”--Magnus

“And we’ve been over this too.”--Buddy

“…”--Magnus

“…”--Buddy

“First one that takes out five Cons has to buy the other a drink.”--Buddy

“If you insist.”--Magnus

Buddy has defiantly used their powers to get Magnus to sneak up on unsuspecting troops.

Magnus is always there for Buddy when they overexert themselves and need someone to watch over their back.

One trip left Buddy badly injured.

They saw Magnus’s backside as he was trying to find them in the rubble of the exploding base.

They tried to call for him, but they could barely keep their optics open.

His shadow was the closest thing they could reach so they snuck into his shadow.

With a quick nap, their wounds would get healed in no time.

Magnus thought that Buddy had died in the explosion after coming back to the base for regrouping.

He checked all other places they set rendezvous points and in none of the places did he even find a trace of Buddy.

Magnus could see it in the optics of his Wrecker’s that the war was about to turn bloodier than it was now that Buddy was gone.

Hopefully things would get better…

Hope was the last thing they had.

Timeskip to Magnus being on Earth…

Buddy finally feels ready to get out of the shadow.

Yeah, it took a while to finally get healed, but they are sure they are ready now.

By their calculations they missed about a couple weeks in the war. Things couldn’t have changed that much.

Magnus is arguing with Wheeljack when Bulkhead sees something wrong with Magnus’s shadow.

“Hey guys, shadows aren’t supposed to do that right?”--Bulkhead

Miko looks from the perch.

“Wow! Wheeljack made Magnus so mad his shadow gained sentience!”--Miko

In a blink there is a bot laying on the floor rubbing their helm.

“Urgh! Never doing that again… hey Mags when did we get better lighting—Mags?”--Buddy

Ultra Magnus stares at Buddy with wide optics.

“By the Allspark! Buddy is that you?!”—Wheeljack

“Who’s that?”--Miko

Buddy moves their helm a bit and spots Wheeljack.

“Wheeljack? I thought you left cycles ago—Hey!”--Buddy

Bulkhead scoops Buddy from behind giving them a crushing hug.

“Bulkhead!? I thought you left to team Prime? Magnus? Magnus what’s going on?”—Buddy

“Seriously who’s that?”--Miko

Magnus remains still just staring at Buddy like a ghost.

Buddy gets out of Bulkhead’s grip stumbling a bit until they reach their Amica with a worried look on their face.

“Mags? Are you okay?”--Buddy

“I…I thought you had perished in the explosion. I looked everywhere…”--Magnus

Buddy scratches their helm a bit.

“Yeah, I got injured pretty badly back there. Your shadow was the closest thing I could reach and… well…”--Buddy

“So, this entire time you’ve been in Ultra Magnus’s shadow?”--Wheeljack

Buddy furies their optics a bit.

“You’re making this sound like I was gone for millennia. I was just gone for a couple of weeks most.”—Buddy

Magnus gives them a sad smile.

“…You never were good at your calculations Buddy.”--Magnus

Magnus puts a servo on his Amica’s shoulder.

“Mags?”--Buddy

“Mags?”--Miko

Buddy finally looks over at Miko.

“Who’s this?”--Buddy

“I’m Miko! Welcome to Earth!”--Miko

Buddy’s optics widen.

“How long was I in there!?”—Buddy

Optimus walks into the room with some of the reports.

“Ultra Magnus where—Buddy?”--Optimus

“WHY IS PRIME SO BIG!?”--Buddy

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #tfp ultra magnus #tfp ultra magnus x platonic reader

143 notes · View notes

lovelyhan · 10 months

Text

— caught in the middle (a teaser) ⟢

mingyu knows. he's perfectly aware that his best friend's girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader x mingyu

★ WORD COUNT; 1.3k words

★ TAGS; established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining, fluff, smut (in future scenes; this teaser is completely sfw)

★ WARNINGS; brief mentions of twitter porn

★ NOTES; streamer wonwoo is back and he now comes in a set with his equally hot streamer best friend :] i'd recommend reading underlying pretense and favorite poison first for added context, but you can totally read this teaser (and future story) as a standalone :^)

★ DISCLAIMER; some elements in this teaser are not final and might change in the actual fic.

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life.

Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis.

And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.

How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

“Mingyu, you’re dragging your ass a lot today,” Seungcheol’s voice sounds pissed through his headphones and Mingyu can’t exactly fault him for it. Not when he ended up making their team lose their third Valorant match in a row. “The hell’s up with you? I thought you already practiced using Gekko with Vernon the other day.”

“We did and he was actually pretty good,” the younger man comments. “Dunno what suddenly got into him today though.”

“Cheol-hyung, you shouldn’t berate Mingyu when you royally sucked at using Neon during the time she was first released,” Wonwoo quips.

Seungcheol immediately makes a disgruntled noise at that. “I did not royally suck! She just doesn’t fit my playstyle. And I get that you guys are glued to the hip at this point, but you of all people should know when to call out your teammates especially if they’re being a bunch of noobs, Wonwoo.”

“Now, now, didn’t we already talk about this? No fighting when we’re only doing a bunch of scrimmages between friends.”

A less abrasive voice flits into the call and Mingyu finds himself relaxing into his seat as he stares at the glowing red DEFEAT screen on his monitor. Ever since you and Wonwoo finally dropped the act of hating each other and started dating, you’ve constantly mediated any petty arguments that sparked within their group. Mingyu is all sorts of grateful, but is just a tad bit embarrassed whenever he’s part of the argument in question.

“Yeah, what she said,” Wonwoo agrees with a huff.

“Whatever, man. Koyahngi has watered down your temper so much, it makes me look like the most easily tilted player on the team,” Seungcheol grumbles before adding, “Ugh. Couples.”

Vernon laughs softly. “Crazy how you’re the one who always insisted for Wonwoo-hyung to be kinder, but now that he is, you suddenly want him to go back to his trash-talking ways.”

“Now why’s everyone dogpiling me now!” the older man whines.

About half an hour and another lost match later, everyone decides to call it a day. Seungcheol and Vernon are going to hold a joint stream together and Mingyu needs to get ready for another modeling gig he managed to land a couple of days ago. He’s not sure what you and Wonwoo had in store for the day, but his best friend and roommate mentioned that you were going to drop by their apartment sometime today.

But when Mingyu finally deigned to grab a towel and head to the bathroom, he instead makes a detour to the couch with a desolate sigh. He unlocks his phone and opens the Twitter app like it was second nature, tapping on the button that pulls up his most recent searches.

goodcat_badcat

He absentmindedly types the username to an account that’s been his constant companion whenever he needed to let off some steam. Though he hasn’t checked her profile in a while, Mingyu was under the impression that goodcat_badcat would still be there to give him a hand especially when his schedule has been driving him insane these days.

But when the app redirects him to the main profile, the same words that greeted him when he woke up with his painfully hard morning wood stare back at him. Something went wrong. Try again.

She deactivated. His favorite Twitter porn girl is fucking gone and now he’s got nothing but despair and the bluest balls in the entire city.

“Hey.”

Mingyu jolts at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice, immediately locking his phone before tossing it on the other side of the couch as if it burned him. He’s quick to whirl around to greet him with a too-wide smile.

“Hyung, what’s up?” Mingyu asks, thanking the heavens that his voice didn’t crack.

His best friend looks at him weirdly. “Uh, do you have any plans today? We’re going out to go bowling today and she told me to ask if you wanted to come along.”

Bowling. Wonwoo sucks at bowling, but you managed to rope him into going with you anyways. If that’s not true love, Mingyu doesn’t know what is.

“I’d love to, but I’ve got a shoot in…” Mingyu’s voice falters before reaching for the phone he just tossed away—heart dropping to his stomach when he looks at the time. “Shit. Thirty minutes.”

He doesn’t wait for Wonwoo’s response before bounding towards the bathroom with a towel in hand.

The part-time model hasn’t gotten ready faster in his entire life. Though his manager told him that the brand he’s shooting for this time isn’t strict with time, Mingyu doesn’t want to make it a habit to show up late for his commitments.

Streamers already have a bad enough image to those who aren’t part of the industry, and he wants to make it a point that not every single one of them is a slob who doesn’t shower and makes tardiness a way of life.

As he pulls on a snapback over his still-damp hair—opting to let the stylists on the set handle it for him instead—he faintly hears your voice outside of his bedroom door.

“Aww, he isn’t coming?”

“Yeah. Let’s just invite him next time,” Wonwoo’s muffled response manages to reach his ears as well.

With one last glance in the mirror, Mingyu hoists his bag across his shoulder before opening the door to his room. He spots you seated on the armrest of their couch, kicking your legs somewhat adorably before you meet his gaze with surprise.

For someone who’s supposed to be bowling today, you don’t really look the part. Of course, your signature Koyahngi cat ear headband is sitting on top of your head, as in-theme as always. You also paired up your short, pleated skirt with lace-trimmed thigh highs and chunky white boots. Not to mention the sheer, low cut top that gives him an ample view of your cleavage…

“Gyu, do you have a photoshoot today or something?” Your question promptly snaps him out of his somewhat rude staring. “Here I thought we could team up and destroy Wonwoo together in the bowling alley.”

“As if I’d allow that,” his best friend scoffs. “Mingyu’s teaming up with me, princess. Then you’ll be crying in the bowling alley while we get ourselves a victory treat from the snackbar.”

“We are not going to do that, and yeah, I have a photoshoot…that I’m already late for actually,” Mingyu replies with a bubble of laughter. “That’s okay. You and Wonwoo-hyung have fun. Pro-tip, he actually sucks at bowling, so you’ll score much better than he will.”

You giggle before getting back on your feet, making your way over to Mingyu faster than he can prepare himself for. He hasn’t quite noticed it as vividly as he does now, but you’re so much smaller than him—even with the added inches of your boots.

It doesn’t help that the way you’re cutely looking up at Mingyu with those pretty doe eyes as you examine his outfit is making sweat bead across his temples. Great.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re heading to a shoot though,” you laugh. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you? Who’s the lucky guy or gal? Why’d you dress up like Tadashi Hamada just to impress them?”

Wonwoo snorts. “You mean the guy who died in Big Hero 6?”

“Well, yeah, but he was also my childhood crush, so shut up, Wonwoo.”

Your childhood crush. He looks like your childhood crush.

As Mingyu watches you bicker with his roommate—your boyfriend and his best friend—he realizes something that could change the trajectory of this friendship forever.

He might have a crush on someone he isn’t supposed to want.

⟢ end notes: hope you enjoyed the teaser so far! do leave a reply if you want to be tagged once the fic is up (hint: i'll be dropping it on wonwoo's birthday hehe)

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #wonwoo smut #mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #lovelyhan #q: i always need queue 🐇

327 notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 27 days

Text

MERRY GO

author's note. 3rd time is the charm so here's my final angst piece in this event :3 no but the song is so:( i saw ian's comment abt it on genius and i just ... dunno, had to write it

word count. 672

summary. your and jun's relationship reminds you of a merry go -- but there is time for you to get off it

“we need to… stop, whatever this is”

your voice echoed through the walls – but also in his head. it was heavy but not as heavy as the burden jun carried in his heart.

“i know, i know” jun replied, a sigh escaping his lips.

the silence in the room buzzed between you, a tension hanging densely. one spark of a wrong word and there will be an outbreak. both jun and you knew it well, too well.

“we’re not making any progress, are we?” an airy scoff ripped out of you, something amusing in this helpless situation “it… jun, it feels like an endless loop”

“oh, i know”

shifting in the red leather armchair, crossing your legs, scanning junhui’s silhouette. his eyes were somewhat teary but you weren’t sure if it was because of you or his overall state of being. you knew him like the back of your own hand, like the inside of your pocket. jun was exhausted - both mentally and physically. maybe you were a part of the problem, sure. but something told you he wasn’t taking care of himself properly.

hence you’re here.

“i… we, jun. we can’t keep doing that” your voice was quiet “i'm still fumbling with your memories about the last time we tried, when our worlds were falling away from us”

your relationship with jun was sweet at the beginning. but over time it turned bitter, eventually leading to a breakup. and everything after that - because you wouldn’t call it a relationship - reminded you of a merry-go round carousel. breaking off, ignoring each other and then coming back, only to hurt the other more. again and again, in a loop; in a spinning circle.

“you don't know what you've done to me, y/n” jun grunted.

meeting on a neutral ground was a good idea. no sentimental value of his living room or your bedroom. just a cheap motel, with occasionally flickering lights. it lit up his skin with a yellowish gleam, making his brown eyes look less scary to look in. the ridge of his nose which you adored so much looked so appealing, you wished you could just reach your hand out and trace it… like you used to.

“i can’t live without you” the man in front of you said “i want it all back”

“we can’t, junhui” you still loved him but you two ere no good for each other “it’s a lesson we learned too many times. i don’t want to hurt you and… i don’t want to get hurt either”

“i know, i know” jun’s throat felt like there was a rock stuck inside, his ability to speak dropping to a toddler lever.

his work, your frustration. your bottled feelings leading to hurtful words. then redemption - shared moments sweeter than the previous ones, kisses more passionate because both of you knew it will snap eventually. a repeating loophole that you lost count of how many times it has repeated itself.

“one… final chance. i cannot live without you… you, you know it. and you need me” he stuttered out and it was true. both of you acknowledged it.

with the sound of a flickering lamp in the terrifyingly silent room, a decision was made in your mind - quite the opposite of what your broken heart wanted.

“don’t… call me again. i love you jun but we can’t. i genuinely wish you the best, you deserve it. but i can’t be the one to bring you pure happiness” you didn’t even notice the crystal tears falling down your cheeks.

both of you stood up and jun wiped your skin with a sad smile. one word and he’s going to break down too, you could see it in his eyes.

“sorry… but you know it’s a right decision” you whispered, letting his embrace comfort you for the last time.

“oh, i know” the most heartbreaking sigh reached your ears.

jun hugged your shaking silhouette, tears balancing at his own waterline as well.

no more sending back around this merry go.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #wen junhui #junhui fluff #junhui imagines #moon junhui #seventeen fluff #wen junhui fluff #wen junhui imagines #seventeen angst #junhui x reader #wen junhui x reader #wen junhui angst #svt angst #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt imagines #jun seventeen

58 notes · View notes

quinloki · 1 year

Note

Marco, Newgate, Jinbe for Pregnancy kink, breeding kink, Praise kink please

I'm going to preface this with - I see Jinbei and Newgate as very fatherly (not Daddy-ly? ) so I don't have much personal head canon for them. (My apologies, I am a horny bastard most of my head canons are horny-based XD)

That said, I will do my best! I'm not uncomfortable with it or put off by it personally, so no harm. Oh my I thought Jinbei was in his mid-50s, seems he's a spry young 46!

Let's do these by Kink - Praise, Breeding, Pregnancy.

Praise Kink:

Marco - FUCK Yes - Marco will have a hard time not praising you, to be honest. Those calloused warm hands slide over your body just as smoothly as his gaze, and his words drip down softly like honey. It's a steady, soothing cadence, and his words delight in every sound and twitch he pulls from you. You purr so sweetly for him, you take him so well, you always listen like a good [insert here].

He certainly doesn't mind getting praised in return, it's always a pleasure to hear your voice. But he gets more from giving than receiving in this case.

Newgate - Yes - Newgate often sings the praises of his sons and his crew, so it's fairly second nature to him. Of course he would praise someone who could stand by his side, and support him in ways that no one else can. That deep voice rumbles through your body like rocks and thunder, in a tone a little different for you than anyone else.

Jinbei - Yes - Of course Jinbei loves to praise you \o/ This is a very positive and supportive gentleman, and you deserve all the praise. Jinbei is a busy guy, and you've stayed by his side through a lot of employment changes. Things always manage to work out, and you always manage to find your way back to him. The warm hands, the warm voice, and the kind words.

His tone of voice for praising you behind closed doors is a little different, but that's just for you to know.

Breeding Kink:

Marco - Sure - Marco is more than happy to fill you up. He loves letting himself go inside you, the noises you make the way you feel throbbing against him. He couldn't possibly ask for more. But there's not really anything else to it - there's no fantasy of using you just for breeding, there's no connection/desire regarding marking you or filling you up. It's not a matter of "It's hard to get overt enthusiasm out of Marco", so much as there's just not that extra connection or spark for him.

Condom or not he just enjoy finishing inside you and bringing you over the edge at the same time (or near enough to count), makes him feel like he hasn't lost his touch.

Newgate - I dunno - I just don't feel like the guy who adopted (sometimes a little forcefully) a couple hundred sons is at all interested in any part of the process for creating biological children. I do think he's a caring enough guy that he would give it a try, if it was a fantasy of yours. I imagine he'd be more enthusiastic and into it if he was breeding you anally, to be honest.

Now, to be fair, breeding kink does not equal pregnancy kink, so I want to make sure I'm clear I'm not saying they go hand in hand. His hesitation isn't because he can't separate the two, his hesitation is because, well, regardless of gender he's more of a "swiggty, swooty he comin' for dat booty" kind of guy.

Jinbei - Yes - This man appreciates the sight of you just overflowing with his seed. The certain way the blood rushes across your skin, how you tremble in pleasure, there's just something different from other times, and he appreciates that difference.

(I wish I had more, but he's a simple guy who has simple pleasures)

Pregnancy Kink:

Marco - I don't think Marco knew he had this kink until you got pregnant. He'd seen/dealt with pregnant people before now, and it never did anything to him. But once you started showing he started to get a feeling that he wasn't sure what to do with. He became nearly feral in the bedroom, and spent most of his free time tending to you - massaging your feet, rubbing your shoulders, offering to feed you and other acts of service. Anything to be around you.

He wrote it off mostly to some instinctual drive to protect you, but the strong desires and urges were almost hard to control. You two ended up sitting down and talking about it and realizing that it was very much a oh god you don't even know for him.

Newgate - No - Pops wishes anyone who is pregnant good luck. May everything go correctly, and may you have many healthy babies. Just leave him out of it. He's not completely averse to the visual of pregnant people, he's just not terribly comfortable around it. Babies and kids? He's good with that, he's Pops after all.

He just doesn't have any interest in the process.

Jinbei - Sure - Jinbei falls into the "you were beautiful before, you are beautiful now" category. He's not turned off or away because you're pregnant, but he's not doing more or less with you because of it. Well, he's doing more with you - your pregnant - he's going to look after you and help you out like a good partner. He does his best to match your energy and pace - in and out of the bedroom.

Sorry, this is a little bare bones for what I usually do ^_^;

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

#kinky one piece head canon #Jinbei #edward newgate #marco the phoenix #x reader #jinbei x reader #marco x reader #edward newgate x reader

238 notes · View notes

penvisions · 2 months

Text

the melting point {chapter 17}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (exEMT! reader)

Summary: You and Frankie have some conversations about the future, but not all of them are so serious. Meanwhile, the gang are up to something....

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: medical jargon, description of injuries (not detailed), mention of surgical scarring, reader has limited mobility, reader uses a walker, reader uses a wheelchair, panic, depression, anxiety, reader is self-conscious in her body, a lot of emotions, description of female body, body modification, reader gets some new ink, and someone else too, pet names, canon typical violence, frankie loses his temper (inspired by the one gif of him yelling about killing ppl), frankie gets overwhelmed, smoking, cigarettes, consumption of nicotine, a lot of emotions!

A/N: okay, okay, i know i said i'd post this on friday but my brain decided to be not so nice to me and make me stare at the document for this chapter for hours. but, it's here and i'm happy with it. there are so many grammar errors but uploading this is the last task of the day before bed, so they’ll be fixed tomorrow

if you have the time, please take a peek at the poll for this fic

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You feel shy.

You feel self-conscious.

You feel like it’s the first time meeting him all over again the next morning when he descends from getting dressed upstairs and greets you in the kitchen.

You had woken up early, bones aching and enough feeling to shuffle with your walker toward the miracle invention that was the coffee maker. Spacing out as you held you left hand out in front of you and took in the way the diamond he must’ve spent countless hours working to afford was nestled in the delicate gold band that fit so perfectly.

All of his working despite you being in the hospital, being comatose and then being awake but a faucet of never-ending emotions that ticked from hot to cold at a moment’s notice. It had been to provide for you, to offer you a future with him, to spend two weeks of unbothered time with you to help you navigate the new routine of your life.

You startled when his arms wrapped around your waist, his forehead resting against the back of your head, rustling the untamed strands. You felt heat bloom atop your chest and stretch over the expanse of your neck to fill your cheeks. Ducking your head, you squeaked out a small greeting, bringing your hand back to yourself and settling it over the mug of long chilled coffee.

“Everythin’ okay?”

You could only hum in response, voice lost amidst the bashful way in which you were almost afraid to turn around and face him head on. His beautiful face, crowned by chocolate curls that you could spend hours running your hands through, the endearing scruff that tried to grow in fully but never managed to tinged with sparkling silver, those wide eyes that sparked warmth the second they turned to you.

No, everything was not okay.

He was beautiful, he was handsome, he was everything you ever wanted all rolled into one package. He was yours, now, and you felt completely unworthy.

The repeat of his question was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

Panic rose up suddenly, spurred on by the self-doubting thoughts that had been consuming you from the moment you woke up in a cold sweat. Your body tensed in his hold, his arms twitching as he felt it happen in real time. Your breathing became labored, legs twitching with the need to move, to run.

“I dunno who would be here this early…” He began to turn toward the door, hold loosening around you and allowing you to take in an attempt at a calming breath. He assured you he would be right back before your eyes followed his movement over the threshold and toward the front of the house. Without a thought for even the walking aid you had, leant up against the cabinets beside you, you pushed into motion and fled the room. Thankful for the layout of his house, you rushed on shaking legs to the safety of the guest room, hands heavy on anything that could help to stabilize you, closing the door and locking it with frantic movements. Tears of embarrassment welled up and you felt like a fool.

Anyone who would be coming to Frankie’s house was a friend or family. There was no need to feel the pricks of anxiety or panic that were spiking all over your body, beads of sweat budding on your temple and the small of your back.

Faint sounds of an easy-going conversation floated down the hall and underneath the cracks of the door.

The anticipation of them moving further into the house has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, skin prickling. You have no idea why you’re suddenly so afraid, but you are and it’s stolen the very breath from your lungs, the voice from your throat.

“Querida?” Frankie’s voice called out, confusion coloring his words as he no doubt returned to the kitchen to find you gone and your walker abandoned. The cup of coffee you had indulged in alone on the counter. His muffled steps down the hall on the plush carpet had you gripping the handle of the door despite the lock still being engaged. Emotions overwhelming as the tears began to slide down your heated cheeks. His voice called out again, closer, and your heart thudded in your chest. “Sweet girl, you back here? Pope brought us breakfast, said he was headed into the office but wanted to drop by and say hi."

Silence. Save for the halting steps right outside the door. You could swear he was able to hear the way your heart was beating hard in your chest, knocking on the inside of your ribcage in a heavy, hectic pattern.

“Mante?” Santi’s voice called from down the hall, hesitant but laced with concern. His steps were louder than Frankie’s, presence appearing on the other side of the door alongside him. “How did she even manage to get far without the walker?”

The doorknob jostled as one of them tried to open the door, shaking your already trembling arms as they realized it was locked.

Your name was spoken with caution, worry saturating the sound.

“The door’s locked, Fish.” Santi’s voice was hushed, like it was a secret you were all trying to keep each other from knowing. But it was blatant, obvious in the way that your fingers had deliberately engaged it and the hands of theirs that had tried to turn it. The handle wasn’t budging and neither was the door.

“Sweet girl…are you okay?”

“Did you get scared, carino? It’s just me, I know I stopped by unannounced, but I just wanted to see you is all.”

The answer you want to give them is a ghost on your tongue. Existing only in your mind, never given voice. The door handle jostled one more time, a heavy sigh sounding as it didn’t turn and allow them entrance into the sanctuary you had sought out. Retreating footsteps weren’t enough for you to unlock the door, but you did retreat from it and slowly move toward the bed. Pain licked at you through the aid of the pain killers you had left in the kitchen, the intention of the coffee that had been forgotten as you got lost in thought and now hidden yourself away.

A muffled conversation, the sound of the front door opening and closing, an engine turning over. Then silence.

Frankie called your name as he padded down the hall once again, an edge to his voice that hinted at his growing concern. A sniffle and a lilt of desperation punctuating in his words.

Surging up at the sound of his watered voice, you pressed your forehead to the door. You wanted to open the door and fall into his embrace, to soothe his tears and worries but you couldn’t. You felt so frozen, body unwilling to do what you bid.

“Sweet girl, just let me know you’re okay? You don’t – you don’t have to open the door, I promise. Just, I’m setting the walker next to it if you need it, okay?” Frankie’s words were soft, comforting despite the unease you were sensing through the door.

Before he could even think, his fist was slamming against the interrogation room’s mirror. The glass shook violently, giving away the audience hidden on the other side of the two-way device. The figures on the other side startled, the shooter breaking out into a wicked grin after looking toward the mirror.

“To answer your question, officer. There was no motive, she was just there, alone, an easy target to pick off until that bitch got in the way.” His words were snide, unflinching in honesty.

Another hit landed on the panel of glass.

The officer leading the interrogation leaned over to speak to the one standing guard at the inside of the door. A quick word into his walkie and the two men in the observation room were announcing that Frankie needed to step out and collect himself. Santi agreed on the angered man’s behalf, a guiding hand on Frankie’s shoulder as they moved toward and then through the door out into the hall.

“Hey, look, it’s not okay. But you gotta reign your emotions in check. We’re here to corroborate what happened, as witnesses.”

“Pope. C’mon, man, you know that hijo de puta needs to be locked up, with the heaviest sentence possible. My six-year-old daughter is having panic attacks and had to delay her entire school year. Mante wakes up every other hour, whimpering in her sleep and crying out like she’s being shot all over again It’s hard to see her that way and she can’t- she can’t even-“

A large hand scrubbed roughly at the tears of anger and frustration that began to cloud his vision.

The sound of the door to the interrogation room opening halted Santiago’s move to embrace the crumbling man. Frankie lunged, mind focused on the man being lead through the door in cuffs. Before anyone could blink, Frankie’s large frame was across the hall and pushing the smaller man up against the wall. The back of his head meeting the wall with a harsh thud. He let out a grunt at the contact, unable to shield himself or block the rage aimed at him as Frankie’s fist came down hard on his cheek.

“Frankie, primo, you gotta calm down!” Santi’s voice was harsh, tone biting to try and break through the chaos, the officers also stepping in to separate the two men before Frankie could land another hit.

“I’ve got a terrified fiancé back home who’s barricaded herself in a room and won’t even speak because of this piece of shit!” Frankie growled, rage taking over him in a way he couldn’t recall since his days running around jungles and guns an extension of his hands. An extension of himself and who he used to be. His shoulders were taut under his friend’s hands, pulling him back and holding his hands behind his back. One of the officers wrangled a pair of cuffs over Frankie’s wrists, the clink of the metal loud amid the sudden silence of the hallway. All Frankie could do was watch at the shooter was lead away, his heaving chest lightening slightly in pride at the sight of blood dripping from a cut that was in the middle of an already blooming bruise.

“Alright, now that that’s out of your system, we’re gonna have to keep you until you calm down.” When Santiago began to open his mouth to say something the officer closed his eyes and nodded his head slightly, beginning to lead a cuffed Frankie away. “We won’t press charges, but there’s no guarantee he won’t try to. We’ll vouch that it was provoked. Try to sweep it under the rug.”

“Of course, thank you.” The man moved away from Frankie to allow the officer room to undo the cuffs around his wrists. “We really appreciate you allowing us to sit in on the reading of the official charges.”

“I should be thanking you, you were the run who took him down, right?”

“Yes,” Santiago shook the man’s hand, keeping Frankie in the corner of his vision, unnerved by the violent display of his normally calm and cooperative friend. “Had my service gun on me that day, years of experience allowed me to keep an even head despite having seen my friend gunned down. And he- he’s normally so levelheaded with this type of stuff but it’s his family that was targeted. He’s allowed an outburst or two, huh, primo?”

“Well, again, thank you. Please feel free to reach out with any questions regarding the case but it’ll be fairly open and shut from here on out with his taped confession.”

“We need a weekend away.” Santiago spoke into the silence of the cab. He was in the driver’s seat, Frankie silent and stewing in the passenger side. The cloying scent of nicotine wafting from their twin cigarettes, the snick of their nails as they asked the only sound aside from the ticking of the cooling motor.

“Can’t even get her to come out of the guest room, I’ve been sleeping on the couch, hoping she at least makes her way into the kitchen, but that door’s been shut since you came over two days ago.”

“Is it still locked?” A long inhale, held on his tongue and them blown out the window between a frown, Santiago turned to his friend, emotions a hum lit up and amplified by the events of the day.

“I’ve been too worried to check. I don’t want her to feel cornered if I do and it is open.”

“She’s talked to Will a little more in depth about her past, maybe it would be good to call him over?”

“I asked her to marry me.”

The cigarette dropped from Santiago’s fingers, his curls bouncing as he tried to catch the smoldering thing before it could burn his leg. The breakdown you had on your last day in the hospital rang in his ears, the worry and anxiety you had been carrying around at the lack of physical attention from the man beside him now.

“Fish, that’s…that’s a lot. Are you sure-“

“She said yes.”

“That’s…that’s good, Fish.”

“But now she’s hidden away in that room, she’s…she’s going through so much and I just want to be there for her.”

“When you first started getting clean, you didn’t want to see any of us, remember that?”

“Because I was ashamed that it got so bad.”

“I think…even if you want to be there for her because you feel like it’s the right thing, you have to be there for her in the way that she needs right now.”

“I should call Will, he’s the one with the degree in this type of stuff.”

“Taylor too, he’s still in town, helping run the shop, right?”

“Yeah…”

“You know there’s nothing to worry about with him….right?” The question lilting from Pope was hesitant, the man unsure if he should broach the subject. He knew how these things went between people, half of a couple dealing with trauma by backpedaling into the comforts they know. He didn’t want to worry about you that way, acting on past emotions in the wake of such an event, but he did. For Frankie should that happen, for all of them should that happen. You moving out of the state and back to what you knew would cause a hole to open up in their group, a missing piece that became a part of the set.

You had brought so much with you as they folded you into their lives, a bright spot as they tried to move past the things they carried with them, that plagued them when it was too quiet.

“I’m not worried about him.” Frankie took a drag from his own cigarette, the last from the dwindled down filter between his fingers. He snubbed it out on the side of the truck before flicking it toward the asphalt of his driveway. “Talked to him a lot at the hospital, he’s…he’s just a part of her and I accept that. He helped me pick out the ring and said it would be a good time to do this, if the thought was already there and I know it’s only been six months, Pope, but…she’s – she makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.”

“She’s a good one, knew it from the moment she didn’t punch my lights out when I approached her in the gym one day. Just wanted to help correct a stance and she…she smiled so brightly at me and listened instead of waving me off.”

“She didn’t deserve this,” A hiccup forced its way through Frankie’s throat as he tried to tamp down swell of tears. He coughed, trying to rid himself of the lump in stuck in the base of it, but he couldn’t. The surge of heat that accompanied tears was all too familiar.

“No, but she’s strong. She’s got all of us to help her, she’s got a place with all of us to take her time healing and she’ll be okay. I promise you that, mi amor.” Santi reached over and pulled the shaking man into an embrace, hand curling into his hair and knocking the cap from atop his head. All Frankie could do was bury his face in his friend’s neck, tears falling as he failed to keep them at bay.

Neither man noticed the flutter of curtains in the living room window.

It was late, the only sound in the dark house was the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. Frankie had tried to sleep on the couch again, but when he woke up with a jolt of pain in his back he had retreated to his room. The third night of doing so finally getting to his ragged body. Frankie sighed as he reclined in his bed, heating pad on the highest setting below him and right on the small of his back. Sleep pulled him under, the day’s events having wiped him out.

Between Lex’s afternoon therapy, his trip to the precinct downtown, a visit to your bakery to gather the mail and a few more items with the help of Taylor. Dinner was hard, with Lex asking quietly after you, worried for you even as she struggled with her own emotions and what had happened. She wasn’t as chatty as normal, which was okay with Frankie, though he did wonder if she would be able to overcome what had happened. She was so young, it would follow her throughout her entire life in ways they didn’t know until they showed. She was already nervous in crowds, an obvious one.

It was something Frankie had tried to prevent his entire life, the exposure to violence in his personal life, but of course it found a way.

Repentance for the things he once did and the violence he inflicted himself. Guilt and the urge to do something about it weighed him down as he tried to be the best version of himself for his daughter.

He didn’t stir at the sound of the guest room below creaking open or your soft steps as you hesitantly peeked out into the short hallway.

He didn’t stir at the at the clank of your walker moving around the hardwood of the living room, nor the soft pants of your exertion.

He didn’t stir at the sound of it clattering suddenly when you lost your balance.

But at the whimpered call of his name, almost scared from your lips, he was surging up. His feet carried him swiftly through the room and down the hall, to the landing of the stairs where he could see the shadow you made as you gazed up from the bottom of them. You had tripped on the first step and he hoped you hadn’t tried to scale them.

“I-I didn’t know where you were, I thought- I’m sorry. Just go- just go back to sleep.” Your voice was shaky, a touch higher than your normal timbre.

You moved your hand from the railing where you had reached out, looking for all the world like you had been about to attempt to ascend them. He was thudding down them before the words even left you, so quiet and hesitant.

“No, no, sweet girl, please don’t apologize.”

“You weren’t on the couch…” A sniffle, followed by a scrub of your hand underneath one of your eyes.

“I was,” Frankie rushed out as he sat down on the second to last one and reached out for you. You only looked at him through the dim moonlight filtering in from the windows, blinds closed but curtains still pulled back like they were during the day.

“You went back to your room, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ You turned away, hands settling back on the bars of your walker, prepared to leave him there, just out of reach. His heart panged in tune with your own as you wouldn’t look at him directly. The shine of unshed tears in your eyes hurting him so much more because he was the cause of them.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m here.” He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, urging you to stay with him. You let him gently pull you toward him, his arms wrapping around you in a loose hug. Your hair tickled his face as he rested his forehead against your own. His own curls, wild from tossing and turning and then finally face planting crushed softly against you.

“…can you help me with a bath, please, I know it’s late….” You looked so scared, so worried about disturbing him and he mentally cursed himself for anything he may have done to make you feel such a way.

Moments later, you found yourself submerged in a steaming bath. Bubbles and Epsom salts comforting in a way you had needed. A warm washcloth was gentle on your back and shoulders as Frankie leaned down from his spot on the lip of the tub to run it over your skin. He was admiring the delicate work of the ink that decorated your shoulders and upper back. Thinking, not for the first time, that he wanted to get his daughter’s name.

“Can you…can you do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweet girl.”

“Can….can we just go back to being friends again?”

The sudden splash of the washcloth startled you, body jolting at the unexpected sound.

“Like…you want to give the ring back?” Frankie’s words were low, gruff in surprise.

“No!” You turned to face him, not liking that your poor phrasing and lack of articulation caused the man to think you didn’t want him anymore. He looked completely defeated, curls flopping over his forehead from the steam of the bath, eyes rimmed with dark circles, his facial hair a little longer and less tamed, deep crease in his forehead. You reached for his hands, just hanging from his wrists flat over the edge of the tub. Intertwining your fingers with his, you tried to explain better. “No, I very much still want to be your wife!”

A moment goes by, where he waits for the words he can see flitting across your face come to life.

“Just, everything is about the hospital, or therapy, or medication, doctor appointments. I feel more like a burden than anything right now and I just want, I just want to be with you like that again. Dumb jokes, the teasing at jumbled words, your casual touches. I want to be normal again, Frankie.”

“I-I didn’t mean to let that all fall away, I’m so sorry, mi amor.”

“You don’t touch me unless it’s to help me move around and it…that hurts Frankie.”

“I’m so worried I’m going to hurt you, that I’m going to do something wrong.” He kept his gaze locked on yours, brown eyes wide and earnest. You could feel the honesty and concern laced in his voice, he had been keeping his distance because he was scared. Seeing anyone laid up in a hospital bed was a lot, to see someone close to you? That was even worse.

You couldn’t imagine the thoughts and feelings he had been overwhelmed with for all those weeks. The thing that caused you to be there already so much. Doctors and nurses rushing you off to emergency surgeries, internal bleeding spiking, the postings of your x-rays displaying the slow progress of your broken bones. It had to have been so much for him, someone who is so caring and so willing to do anything for those in his circle. And he wasn’t able to do anything except sit beside you, hold your unmoving hand…

“I’m already broken, what could you possibly do, you think you’re really that strong?” You tried to smile, but he could see how worried you were, afraid to banter with him.

“I’m stronger ‘n you,” He brought your joined hands up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “I’ve seen you struggle with a bag of flour how many times now?”

“That’s not fair! They’re bulky and awkward.” The smile that broke out across your lips was so bright, Frankie could feel his heart skip a beat in his chest. How could he have ever been the reason it dulled, intentional or otherwise. He mentally scolded himself for being so caught up in helping you the way he thought you needed and not the way you wanted. His friend’s words coming to the front of his mind.

“Point taken, hermosa.” He watched the way you perked up, complexion lightning and the giggle that bubbled from you made warmth bloom in his chest.

As you searched for the fallen washcloth, the movement jostled you, chest jiggling where it was exposed above the water and bubbles. Nipples perked in the shadows of the candles he had lit for the space after a mumbled comment about the overhead being too much for your eyes. He felt a different type of heat wash over him, his cock stirring half-heartedly in his boxer briefs.

“Okay, we can go back to you washing me now.” You held it out to him, but he ignored it in favor of swooping down and placing a kiss to your forehead, to your cheeks that were pulled up with more endearing giggles.

“Hey,” He pulled you closer to him, chest pressed to your warm back. No shirt had been put on, a whispered complaint about the fabric being itchy on your sensitive skin.

Your sleepy hum was the only response he got, not stirring at his quiet voice. Frankie buried his face in your hair, breathing in the scent of you deep into his lungs.

“Was thinkin”…” He pressed his lips behind your ear.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to get Lex’s name.”

“What?” You stirred, confusion furrowing your brow. Taking a deep breath, sleep fogging your thoughts and making it hard to engage fully. The pull of your medication making it even more so. “Frankie, you’re not making any sense. Go to sleep.”

“As you wish, hermosa.” He pressed another kiss to the back of your neck, carefully tangling his legs with your own, hoping he wasn’t jostling you too much. But you didn’t huff or shift away, content in your sleeping state to let him get as close to you as he needed.

After what felt like far too long, the ebb and flow of your easy breath finally lulled him back to sleep, murmuring his love for you into your skin.

“Frankie!” Twirling in your spot in front of the coffee maker, you enthusiastically greeted the half-awake man as he entered the kitchen. It was mid-morning, the two of you having slept in a bit, stirring when Lex came into the downstairs room to ask after breakfast. You had both tried to rouse the snoring man to no avail.

You had tried to talk to her over pancakes, but she had shirked the more serious topics. You had let her talk on and on about the book she was reading, just having upped her level despite how much school she was missing. It was about jellyfish and she beamed when you showed her the blackwork piece you had on your calf.

She was far from her usual bubbly and energetic self, but she wasn’t completely shut down like Frankie had described directly following the shooting. You worried for her, truly. She was important to her and you promised her to make cupcakes later on if you could convince Frankie to run to the shop. She was in the backyard now, painting on the patio table, a sheet of protective canvas over the top of it.

“Uh…yes?” He was rubbing at his lower back, waiting for the icy hot patch he had just applied begin to work. He might need to ask for one of your pain pills but he didn’t want to take from your bottle.

“You wanna get a tattoo? Like for really real?”

He chuckled, sound deep in his chest, his voice huskier than usual as he tried to wake up. He had knocked out shortly after you, heated blanket covering you both in a makeshift nest of the blankets and pillows you needed to sleep comfortably while still healing.

“Yes, hersmosa, for really real.” The dimple in his right cheek caught the warm sunlight coming in through the window. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you felt shy again, like the man before you was too good to be true. You looked away, the sight of his tousled curls and his sweet brown eyes making you self-conscious.

“I was tryin’ to tell you last night, but someone fell asleep in their bath.”

Wide smile dimming sheepishly, you beckoned the man closer. His strong arms wrapped encased you, but he reached behind you and stole your mug from where you had just poured creamer into it. But when you didn’t move to wrap your arms around his waist, he paused.

“Pastel?”

“I-I’m fine.” You pressed your forehead to his chest, hiding away from him. His arms wrapped around you, hands cupping your hips and drawing soothing circles into the healed spots the hospital had inserted metallic pins. The only sound for a few beats was the chirping of birds out in the yard.

“You’re just….really, unbelievably handsome and I just…feel like,” You mumbled the rest of your sentence into his chest, pressing your face further into his shirt.

“You are everything,” Frankie’s chest heaved as he took a deep breath, letting it out to ruffle your hair where he places a kiss. “You are the most gorgeous woman, hermosa. I love you, I am so incredibly and absolutely in love with you. I’m lucky to have you in my life, you’ve helped me to feel more like myself than I ever have.”

You couldn’t help the small hiccup that bubbled up, his arms holding you tight.

A quick call to his mother to watch over Lex and Frankie was opening up the door to greet his mother. He helped to relieve her of the bags in her arms, saying she would make a few easy dinners to toss into the oven over the remainder of the week, to ease some of the day-to-day troubles. You moved to get up from the couch, laid up with Lex, an animated movie on the screen and two indulgent soda’s empty on the coffee table. But when you went to grip the handles of your walker, the woman clicked her tongue at you and waved you back down.

You settled back into the cushions, feeling reprimanded by the woman you had yet to officially meet.

“Sit, sit, I’ll come to you.”

Lex groaned out as you hit pause, wanting to be respectful. But at the look aimed at her from the woman, she sat up at attention much like you just had, an apologetic look overtaking her features.

“Mrs. Morales, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

She ignored you both as she moved in a flurry around a nervous Frankie, ducking into the kitchen to get a water, a damp paper towel, and the small collection of your medications and basic medical supplies contained in a small storage box with a handle. She set herself on the coffee table in front of you, handing you the water, a silent command to drink. As you did, she pulled out the thermometer, trading you the empty glass for it. Popping it into your mouth, she looked you over as she wiped at your face with the damp cloth, brushing your loose hair back.

“Such beautiful color, natural?”

You hummed an affirmative, pulling the large cardigan you had thrown on closer, hesitant to let her see even a peek of the ink decorating your body. You weren’t sure how traditional she was, Frankie answering your questions honestly. He wasn’t sure how she would feel about them and it made you self-conscious.

When the thermometer beeped, she pulled it from your mouth to inspect.

“A bit high, why don’t we take this off and get some air on you, hmm?”

“Oh, um-“ She reached out to begin pulling the cardigan from you, but you jerked, seeking out Frankie at the front of the room.

“Mijo, don’t let those groceries go bad!” She waved her hand at him, spurring him into motion. While you watched him go, she carefully helped you remove the cardigan, not even batting an eye as the tank top underneath revealed the plants mirrored on your collarbones. She smiled at you, a gentle, comforting one. As if she could sense how nervous you were. “Oh-okay, whatever you think is best, Mrs. Mor-“

“Call me Isabella, we’ll be related soon enough, but you’re sweet to be so polite to an old lady like me.”

Turning in search of Frankie, your frantic eyes met his as he came back in from the kitchen. You thought he had talked it over with his parents beforehand. She gripped your hand in her two and gazed at the culprit of the secret you hadn’t known you’d been complacent in.

“This ring on your finger told me, mi amor, because you certainly haven’t yet.” Isabella pinned her son with a stern look.

“Mama, it just happened.” Frankie sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck, knowing he had been found out in an omission of information. Having wanted to get things back on track with you a little before you told anyone.

“Just happened? You proposed the day she came home from the hospital. I know you, bebita.” Her gaze softened, only a teasing edge to it with the raise of an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna be my mom?!” Lex squealed; her small body suddenly pressed to you as she wrapped her arms around you.

“Alexia, calme, be careful with her. She’s still recovering.” Isabella wrangled the little girl off of you and settled her on the other side of the couch, with soft words and the offering of a few candies from her pocket. The movie was turned back on.

“Now, let me help you get dressed, what are you two getting up to today?” She held the walker steady with both her hands and ushered Frankie into motion. He came to stand beside you, hands helping to dig you out from the blanket that had fallen around your waist. His palms were warm around your upper arms as he grazed them close, allowing you to wrap your own around his shoulder to pull yourself up.

“We’re uh, actually going to get some errands done. Maybe some lunch, if you’re hungry, hermosa.”

His mother nodded at him, keeping close to you as she helped you down the hall.

The shop was beautiful. Flash sheets decorating the walls encased in simple frames, funky art mixed in, photos of the people who worked there. A comfortable looking curved couch and a few chairs filling the waiting space, a coffee table with art books and references, photos of pieces done on the premises.

“Hi, I was wondering if you had any time for a couple of walk ins?”

The man at the counter looked you up and down, gauging the seriousness of your question. His eyes moved to Frankie, slightly behind you as you were seated in a wheelchair. The image you created was attractive, complimentary. From Frankie’s worn in black denim, to his simple caramel sweater, aviators hung on his collar. To your simple sundress and hair up in a messy bun, majority of your tattoos on display. Skin kissed by the sun and the casual comfortability between you despite the slight nerves that could be sensed from the tall man guiding you forward.

“Depends on the ideas, but we can surely figure something out.”

You turned to look up at Frankie, gently encouraging him to tell the man about his idea. But he was nervous, unsure of sounding like an imposter when next to you. Smiling, you shifted back to face the counter.

“It’s his first time,” You carefully surged up, and Frankie rounded the chair to hover as you took slow steps up to it. “He’s just a little nervous, but weren’t we all?”

You could see the pink bloom on the tips of his ears when you teasingly winked at him.

“He would like some script, his daughter’s name. Where were you thinking of again, carino?”

“Uh,” He cleared his throat, hands ready to help support you at the slight sway of your body. “On my chest, left side.”

“How big?”

Frankie turned to you at the question, unsure of how to answer.

“No bigger than palm sized, but at least half an inch in height.”

“Gotcha, well…”

“Frankie.” He reached over the counter to shake the man’s hand in greeting.

“Well, Frankie. Any particular font?”

“I was thinking cursive, but nothing too fancy. Easy to read.”

“Okay, give me a few moments and I’ll talk to the artists. See who has the time.”

“Thank you so much.” Frankie looked around the space, taking everything in, his fingers nervously twitching at his side.

“It…doesn’t hurt right?”

“You ever get scratched by a cat?”

“Oh yeah, Rig didn’t like that I was late with his treats one afternoon. Stung like a bitch, but it didn’t really hurt.”

“It feels like that.”

Half an hour later, Frankie was shirtless and standing for the placement of his stencil. The words Alexia Sueno in blue on his left pectoral, right over his heart. The spot had been shaved bare, his bronze skin on display and glistening with the shine of the lotion to ensure it was moisturized enough.

“Placement okay for you?” The woman doing his piece asked, gloved hands holding the paper that helped apply it. He pivoted in his spot, eyes tracking the way it looked as he turned this way and that. “I can move it if you want, just want you to be happy with it.”

“No, no, it looks good!” He reassured, moving to sit in the chair she had set up while getting ready at her nod.

“Alright, now I’m sure you asked your girl how it feels and while it is different for everyone, just let me know if it’s uncomfortable or super unbearable, okay?” She scooted her own stool close, picking up her wrapped machine and clicked it on. She dipped the needles into the ink cap, rubbing more lotion into his skin. “Just keep your breath steady. Ready?”

“Ready.” Frankie nodded as he tightened his hold on your hand, wheelchair pulled up as close as the artist allowed on his right side. The needle kissed his skin, the hum deepening in pitch.

Fresh ink shining, Frankie winced when a dry paper towel was rubbed over it to clean off the excess. The man from the counter walked into the room, brandishing his personal device at you.

“Did a few small doodles, any of ‘em look good to you?”

He turned the device around, displaying simple, clean lines. There were four different depictions of a helicopter. Frankie’s hand tightened around yours, having looked up curiously from watching his own artist busy going over the script once more.

With Frankie’s piece done, second skin applied over it and his sweater back on, it was now your turn.

You were seated in your wheelchair still, but your left arm was stretched out over a cushioned and saran wrapped stand. The small empty spot just above your elbow had a stencil ready and waiting.

The hum of the gun was loud but comforting. At the first touch of the artist applying the lubricant over the stencil was like a welcome home, the needle positioned just over it.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” You chirped.

The needle kissed your skin and all your worries melted away.

You thought you spied a familiar head of steel curls over a broad back in the crowd meandering past the restaurant’s outdoor patio and you called out. Frankie startled slightly, attention on the menu in his hands. He looked up to see you frowning, eyes narrowed as you tried to focus on someone in the crowd, a hand over your eyes to block some of the sun.

Sighing, you plopped back down into your seat fully, having stood halfway to call out.

“I’m pretty sure Pope just ignored me.” You huffed, grumpily twirling the straw in your water to face you and took a sip.

“He probably didn’t hear you, you know we all have pretty damaged hearing.”

“But he can hear the sound of Will’s silent phone on group nights to tease him over Luciana?”

Frankie just chuckled at your annoyance, loving the expression in wake of everything. It was adorable, the was your brows furrowed and your glasses slid down your face as you grumbled to yourself, looking over the menu.

Across town, Pope sighed in relief, knowing that if the bags in his hands had been spotted, it would’ve been a dead giveaway. He rushed across the packed lot he had left his truck in, the downtown area too unpredictable at the most random of times. But he had wanted to talk to the owner of the space specifically, knowing it would be a better sell in person. For them to allow him to rent the space for a night…

Frankie had just closed the door behind you both, bags in one hand and leftovers from the restaurant in the other when a knock sounded. He carefully set everything down on the coffee table, making sure you were comfortable on the couch before turning his attention to the door. A man in a sharp suit was on the other side, a large envelope in his grip.

“Mr. Morales?” He had a thick drawl, his words curling as he spoke. But it was anything but warm, his tone was

“Yes, how can I help you?” Your attention was pulled to the appearance of Frankie’s mother coming down the stairs, a full laundry basket in her hands. But your head swung back to the door at the man’s next words.

“You’ve been served.”

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers: lovely @saradika-graphics

taglist: @tanzthompson @clevergirl74 @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @jessthebaker @peppermintfury @for-a-longlongtime @peppermintfury @tuquoquebrute @readingiskeepingmegoing @christinamadsen @heareball @soft-persephone @vivian-pascal

43 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 2 years

Text

The things I do for you: (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader x Frankie “Catfish” Morales)

Summary: you don’t have a cock… but sometimes you wish you did, specifically so that you could make Santiago suck it 😇. Luckily, Frankie thinks he has a bright idea to help with that. (Aka, maybe this is niche content idek anymore)

Genre: purely smut. Poly! Established Realtionship (MMF)

Reader: fem!reader (vagina-owning)

Author’s note: just don’t even think about looking at me, okay? 😝 Just don’t look at me. Clearly I was on a very specific thing when I wrote this. I found this hiding in my drafts from an age ago and it’s not proofed or refined at all and probably shouldn’t even exist but I got super sick of not having anything to publish, so here it is. (As ever, credit to @astroboots for inspiring Frankie / Santi poly thoughts that I can’t escape through her incredible and flawless Homecoming universe. Consider this a meagre tribute.)

Rating: EXPLICIT. MINORS DNI. Do not read or interact unless you are 18+ or you will be BLOCKED.

Warnings: reader is vagina-owner and in this scene is “wishing” she “had a cock”. As it’s written, this desire is for fleeting and fantasy purposes only, rather than connected with, for example, gender dysphoria. This may however be difficult for some readers even if it is presented exclusively in a fantasy context. Other than that, lots of MM, MF, slightly rough consensual blow job (M/M but fem!reader controlling the situation), oral m to f, general sexy times, some dirty talk, slight praise kink, reader calls Santi good boy a fair bit, lot of cumshot/cum play. Out of character maybe, it was purely for the smut. Not proofed. Probably a ton of autocorrects which will come back to embarrass me. Questionable logistics also. Like I said, don’t look at me 🙈

“You know. Sometimes, I wish I had a cock so I could make you suck it,” you blurt out of nowhere, fracturing the lazy ambience of the morning, and causing your two boyfriends to snap their gaze up at you around the breakfast table.

You could back-pedal. Add some qualifiers, maybe - but given the looks on their faces you feel it will be much more fun to stand by your statement.

“Oh yeah?” You can tell by the instant sweep of his eyebrow that Santi is interested in this conversation. Interested enough that he puts his book down on the table without bothering to save the page, leaning forward in his chair. Meanwhile, Frankie’s spoonful of cereal falters just before it reaches his mouth, crunchy hoops plunging right back into the milk as he loses his faculties.

“Which of us do you want to suck it, hermosa?” Frankie asks, gathering himself immediately and mustering concentrated heat in his mahogany-dark eyes. Meanwhile, you take a deliberate sip of your coffee, looking deviously between each of them from beneath the rim and stoking their suspense.

It’s a tough call but…

“Santiago,” you purr definitively, a positively lewd glint in your eye which causes his jaw to go slack and his big brown eyes to fixate on you. His gaze is brewing with heat but a dull spark settles there too, like he’s somehow dazed. Cock-drunk already.

Okay. He’s listening. And it’s not lost on you that, in your periphery, Frankie squirms in his chair as though he needs to make himself more comfortable all of a sudden.

“So pretty when he sucks cock,” you praise, and Santi’s eyes grow instantly hooded with want, pupils lust-blown and devouring. He talks a good talk but he’s a sucker for a little praise, this one. Not opposed to earning it either. You like that about him.

“Tell me more about that,” Santi says, a hard swallow sinking down his roped neck, and his rough morning voice flecked with grit, as deep and dark as his black coffee.

The two of them are rapt with you, and you love that after all this time together, you can still make them feel so needy. That rarely is a want of yours ever off the table. At least, not without fair discussion.

“I dunno,” you breeze, standing and circling the table, Santi’s gaze following you in your oversized tee and bare legs. His head is already turning and tipping up as you come to stand above him, your crotch falling level with his pretty face. You cup his sculpted jaw almost gleefully in your hand and tip it up further, his thickened fleck of Sunday stubble bristling beneath your hand.

His head goes so easily where you lead, and you think that could prove to be a lot of fun. You shuffle forward, lifting the hem of you tee and pressing his proud nose into the seam of your panties, your fingers snaking tightly into his mussed morning curls. He exhales gruffly against you and you feel his hot breath permeate the fabric, a damp warmth suffusing over your mound. “Hnnngg. I just wish I could fill you up,” you purr, tugging his curls and pressing his face more firmly against your heat. “Sink you down on me until you made those pretty little gagging noises.” Santi lets out a wracked moan already, and you feel him begin to pant ragged breaths against the thin strip of material - all that stands between his lips and your now aching clit. “Use this pretty little mouth up.”

“Fuuuuck.” Frankie expels in a low, abrasive keen. “If you need a cock for him to suck you can borrow mine.” He does so love getting sucked off by Santiago.

Santi twists his head towards Frankie then, licking his lips, but you fist more firmly into his curls and push him back into your heat.

“Do it then.” Santi goads Frankie with little concern for logic, his words sending a vibration right through your core. His robust thighs are now spread on the chair beneath him, and you can clearly see him growing fat and rigid beneath his painfully thin grey sweatpants. Instead of taking care of himself though, Santi -ever the giver- languidly snakes his hands up your bare thighs, and you know it won’t be long before he is moving the dampened strip of fabric aside and delving into your wet heat, his tongue rolling against your folds right here at the kitchen table.

God, you want that, but…

“I wish I could, Frankie,” you coo, almost petulantly. “I want to bury myself in him. He’d look so pretty taking me.”

“Really, Princesa,” Frankie says urgently, watching what Santi is doing to you with a slack-jaw and a razor focus. “You can lie on top of me, put my cock between your legs, grab a handful of those gorgeous curls and make Santi suck you off.” You don’t know what is more compelling in this moment - the way Santi’s long lashed eyes flutter closed or the intense scope of Frankie’s gaze on his mouth and your clit as Santi’s wet writhing tongue fleets teasingly against you. You throw out an arm to steady yourself against the table’s surface as your legs start to wobble.

Christ though. Santi is reliably the cheerleader for your ideas, but Frankie is one hell of a logistician. And he’s deadly serious.

Meanwhile, Santi simply makes an indecipherable sound against your folds as a single thick finger swipes through your slick, noting how wet they both have you already. He looks undone and lust drunk already, even as he hitches one of your legs up on to the chair for better access. “Uh huh. Pussy or cock - whatever, querida. Just tell me where to point my mouth.” You yelp as he curls a finger inside, sending a jolt of pleasure through you, a smugness blooming on his lips as he feels you react. “Or my hands. Or my cock. Or my ass.”

You smile with glee. Your boys sure do know how to treat you right.

You could easily forget the trajectory - the specific thrust of your want, and simply let Santi eat you out like this; however, you hear the scrape of a chair on tiles to your side, and Frankie’s eyes remain full of determination.

He always does enjoy giving you exactly what you want.

The man stands. Apparently, he’s had just about enough of watching. “Upstairs. Now.”

You and Santi each turn to him in unison, and give him the same devilish smile.

Then; you move.

That’s one thing about Frankie. He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

***

The noises are everything. Frankie’s gruff, abortive exhales against your neck. The deep hum and delicate wet sounds of Santi bearing down on Frankie’s thick veined shaft.

The logistics are working as perfectly as they can. You are sprawled on top of Frankie, his broad chest flush to your back as he sits slightly propped on an array of pillows. His head hooks over your shoulder, and his hands under your ass keep you in position. His thighs are spread to make room for Santi to settle in between them and yours are spread too, laying just outside of his, providing contact with his smooth, lightly muscled quads.

Reaching down between your legs, you wrap your hand around Frankie’s hardened length, earning a gentle huff of air into the junction of your neck as you settle Frankie’s shaft up against your heat - because you can’t resist the wet, warm grind. The feeling of him all rigid and needy like this.

From this angle, with his proud length settled between your legs, it almost looks like it could be your cock - regardless of skin tone. You lose some length -perspective wise- given he is settled under you, but he is so deliciously and generously endowed that you still have plenty to enjoy. To take control of.

You pump Frankie languidly in the circle of your hand, angling so the shaft of him bumps against your clit, even planting your feet so that you are better able to angle your hips and grind your folds along the length of him, coating him with your arousal.

You enjoy the way his thighs tense up against yours. The way his broad hands claw a little more insistently into the flesh of your ass, and the way you can feel his chest heaving at your back.

“Come here, baby. Make me feel good,” you command Santi, and he wastes little time.

Within moments he is there on his hands and knees, bowing his head towards Frankie’s need. Of course, the smug fucker doesn’t do exactly what he’s told right off the bat - but you let him off since he does something better.

First, he writhes his tongue all over, licking a wide stripe up the side of Frankie’s shaft and your folds at the same time, shimmying and undulating to reach each of your most sensitive spots.

You know that Santi is nothing but dedicated. You know that if he can make the both of you come undone he will, and you know he’ll drag it out too, until you are barely sure where you end and Frankie begins; however, that’s not exactly what you had wanted. Not the reason you have him bowed before you, his mouth all ready to be used. You’d wanted the power here, and you plan to take it - from both of them.

Indeed, you grip Frankie’s aching, veined cock and you smack it cruelly against Santi’s cheek, causing each of them to whimper deliciously. Then, you run the swollen head of it along his plumped lower lip, swiping the pearl of precum beading there along him and leaving an irresistible salt tang. Lids heavy and brow burdened with need, Santi’s pink tongue swipes the taste of Frankie away with a hum.

“You gonna be a good boy and suck my nice big cock, Santiago?”

You are enveloped by deep, resonant moans as you hold Frankie’s pleasure in the palm of your hand - quite literally. You feel him twitch with anticipation, and you relish Santi’s slack-jawed, needy expression too.

“That right, Frankie? This my cock now?”

“Yes, bonita. All yours. Do anything you want with it.” Christ, he sounds undone already, voice wracked with need.

“And this?” you ask, pushing your thumb past the pillow of Santi’s lips and gliding it along his eager tongue, his lips closing around you as he sucks gently. “This my mouth to use too?”

“Yes,” he croaks obediently.

“Good, ‘cause I’m going to make you choke on my dick.”

With perfect timing, Santi’s mouth falls open with a musical, flowering moan, and that is when you grip his curls and push Frankie’s length past his lips with an insistent surge, until he is all filled up.

Tears prickle at the corner of Santi’s eyes but he takes it with relish, surging wetly down Frankie’s -your- length until you hear his throat rebel with a glug; sounds like crushed fruit spilling over. You release him and he surges off, Frankie’s length gleaming for him, linked to him by spit trails.

“Do you like that, baby?”

“Uh huh,” Santiago nods, a blatant tremor in his voice, looking blissed out and hungry. “Tastes of b-both of you. So f-fucking good.”

When he’s ready, desperate - both of them desperate for more, Frankie’s thighs now trembling against yours - you guide Santi’s head back down on this thick, slick shaft.

This time, his gag reflex relaxed, Santi takes it almost all the way. At least, deep enough that his proud nose nudges against your clit, even whilst his lips and tongue are folded obediently around Frankie’s arousal.

“Fuck,” you breathe at the sudden pressure, Santi all too deliberately nosing gently at your sweet spot until he needs to surge off of Frankie again, his cheeks glistening with squeezed out tears. “So good for me. So pretty like this, Santiago.”

With relish, with your own barrelling need and that of Frankie shuddering and moaning and writhing under you, you control the pace of Santi’s ministrations. Frankie helps you out, thrusting lightly in time to deepen his passage into Santiago’s eager throat, the whole motion grinding you up against them where it counts. Your own arousal swells, your juices leaking from your cunt until they coat Frankie’s shaft too, Santi tasting you as he works so diligently to suck this cock for all it’s worth.

You fall into the rhythm of it, the pace, the wet surge and slip and slide and the choke and release and those pretty tears beading in Santiago’s eyes - practically poetic with need now - his breath ragged and his lips plumped and beaded with spit and cum. Everything so wet and liquid.

Frankie helps you too, finding space for his girthy finger to massage your clit in time with the sensations being delivered to his length, almost as though the pleasure delivered by Santi’s mouth is going directly to the core of you. Almost as though the swirl of his tongue around that fat, contoured head is one and the same as that white hot pleasure spreading through your middle.

You thrill as you watch Santi surge off that cock another time, your stomach lurching pleasantly.

“Good boy. Such a good boy for me. You like this, don’t you? All needy for us?”

It’s not lost on you that -yes- he’s enjoying this. Very much. That besides the moans and the way he pushes his curls insistently into your palm, eager for your control, he’s also hard as a rock, beginning to rut himself up against the mattress less than subtly too to relieve his own throbbing want.

God, he must be aching. Must be so needy as he takes care of you.

“Good,” Santiago gushes, mouth still full of ‘you’, words all rounded and incoherent. “Tastes so good.”

The fact Frankie’s head is now thrown back on to the pillow, his hands fisting into the sheets, is a sure sign that he is close too. The jagged breaths he’s submitting to the air now are a dead giveaway, in fact.

“I’m not going to cum yet,” you insist, even if Frankie evidently has other plans. Even if he seems thoroughly ready to pop and paint Santiago’s throat. “Gonna take a little more from you, sweetheart.” Frankie’s breaths are gusts of air now, like he’s fighting hard to stave off his release. To truly give you the control you crave here.

God, you’re close to your own end too though. You’re dripping now, your nectar coursing down to dampen Frankie’s thatch of coarse dark hair. Dripping to coat his tightening balls.

Frankie’s hand finds your clit again, with new resolve, and somehow he manages to find words - fighting through the pre-nut fog. “You are gonna cum now. Santiago’s making you feel so good with his mouth, hermosa. You are going to come.” He’s warning you. He can’t hold it much longer before he bursts. He’s inviting you - to feel it with him.

You moan into the air, Frankie’s words and fingers both making a rather compelling argument. And, Santiago’s ministrations show increasing vigour, the suck and pop louder and wetter and that crushed, glugging rhythm growing far more insistent.

So eager to please. Such a good boy. Ready to drink it all down.

“Gonna take my cum on your face, pretty baby? Gonna let me paint you?” you ask him, and you hear a muffled affirmative spoken around the girth jammed deep into his face.

You could let Frankie spill over into Santi’s throat - that delicious salt-tang flooding over his tongue. You could keenly watch the bob of his corded neck and he swallows it all down… but you want to see him covered in it. Want that pretty man to be left a mess from you, all chaotic curls and tear-tracks and glistening seed coursing down over that proud chin. That’s what you want.

And so, you reach between your legs and you pump Frankie’s slick, sensitive length in the circle of your hand, just how you know he likes. He groans for you, the sound rattling through you as his hips start to stutter.

Santi waits obediently, basically presenting his face to you while he waits for this thick load to be delivered all over his face.

Frankie follows your lead, his diligent, skilful fingers making your own release bloom through you. At the same moment, your explosion of pleasure is made visible, as Frankie shoots himself, thick and abrupt ropes of cum coating Santi. Spilling over his grizzled curls, his nose, his cheek, his lips, his eyelashes, his face scrunching up with the initial shock of it and then settling into a blissful, awed calm. Then, as you continue pumping his gratified length - pressing the head of Frankie’s cock into Santiago’s cheek as the final pulses of his seed spillover, all warm and creamy over your knuckles too - your core convulses in time, your throbbing waves of pleasure only heightened by the delectable sight before you.

“Fuck,” Santi breathes after a while, lazily swiping seed into his mouth from where it has settled on his mouth.

Beneath you, meanwhile, Frankie is still wordless as he floats back down to Earth. You felt how hard he came, his whole body tightening under you - now slack and boneless and sweat-sheened.

You both flutter down from your high, eyes closing as you drift back down to your bodies. However, as soon as your eyes are opened, you are each eager to survey the mess you jointly made of your beloved Santiago, Frankie’s seed now slowly coursing down his face, already beginning to stiffen in that way it does, but you opt to let Santi enjoy/suffer with it for a few extended moments more.

Then, you feel Frankie’s warm throaty chuckle wrap around you like a blanket. “You got it in his hair, hermosa. Need to work on your aim,” he teases fondly, wrapping an arm around your soft middle.

“Nope. My aim was perfect,” you insist, allowing yourself a devilish smile as Santiago looks mock-accusingly at you - as if he isn’t loving being covered like this - marked as yours and Frankie’s. All used up.

You reach for a cloth from the beside table and laugh gently -fondly- yourself as you help him to clean up.

You’re waiting though, for his inevitable question, his brow and his cock still burdened by his own need.

“Have I been a good boy?” he purrs sinfully, knowing fine well that he has. Knowing that that tone can only help him to get what he wants. Permission to find his own end.

“You have.” Surprisingly. He’s far more of a brat for Frankie. “You can take care of yourself now, baby.” You know he’ll spill himself in moments. Can see the ruddy, swollen head of his cock, flushed almost purple with need as he languidly pumps himself in his own hand - almost reluctantly, as those he’s almost too sensitive to be touched after being made to wait for it while you were pleasured.

“Yeah? Who wants it?”

You roll off of Frankie, and you settle on the bed with your legs wide open, all spread for him. “Cum on my pussy, if you wanna? You earned it.”

From the way Santi practically growls and shifts himself on the mattress, you know he likes the sound of that. Very much. “Fuck. Look at you, hermosa.”

“Mmm,” you hum, fingering your own slick - playing with it, as Santi appears rapt with your plump, glistening folds. “Did you like sucking on my cock? Did it get you all hard?“

Your voice is velvet, and apparently, your words and the sight of you is all that Santi needed. With only a few thrusts into his palm he is coating you, pulsing his seed over your heat until you are a warm, creamy mess. His release is punctuated too by Frankie and Santi both firing gentle, breathy expletives into the air, loving how you look all laid out like this.

Well. Alright.

It seems like your idea worked out pretty well? It seems like everyone had an exceptionally good time - you included. But still, you’re not averse to a little praise yourself, so you simply have to ask. “How was I with a cock then, boys?”

“Honey, we need to get you a strap.” Frankie insists immediately. Oh yeah? He’s keen? That’s… very interesting. “I gotta watch you fuck our little brat. Fill up all those holes of his.”

There Santi goes again, that dazed, lust-drunk look overtaking his face. “Uh. Uh huh,” he agrees efficiently. “Fucking hot.”

No complaints from him either, then? You take that as a good sign too, and a happy, giddy grin spreads over your face as your boys set about cleaning you up too and showering you with long, slow, loving kisses.

With these two, almost anything is possible, it seems. Apparently, Santi can be relied upon to cheerlead any kinky idea you may have. And luckily, the two of you have Frankie to help you work out the logistics.

Actually… there’s an idea.

You bite your lip shyly. “Frankie? Do you think… Can we maybe get Santi a cheerleading outfit?”

The man’s jaw goes slack now as he plays with that mental image, but when you look at Santi to absorb his take, he appears nothing but smug.

Santiago flings himself on to the mattress by your side, nestling himself in between yours and Frankie’s naked bodies. Little attention-seeker he is. Always looking for snuggles. “Cariño,” he teases, with a playful flutter of those pretty lashes. “You’re not ready for how good my cheeks would look in a cute little skirt.”

“Probably not,” you admit, thinking about how on Earth you would survive the sight. “But I’m willing to find out.”

“The things I do for you,” Santiago jests, snuggling even closer into your side. Yeah right, as though he doesn’t love every minute of this. The way that you and Frankie both fawn over him.

Still, you notice Frankie reach to the bedside in that moment, cutting the snuggles unusually short as he reaches for his phone and reading glasses, post haste. “Watcha doing, babe?” you ask curiously.

He turns the screen towards you both and his quest becomes immediately evident. “Your wish is my desire,” he says in all seriousness, and you wonder how you managed to get so lucky. “I’ve got some shopping to do.”

#santiago pope garcia x reader #frankie morales x reader #Santiago Garcia x reader #Pedro Pascal #Oscar Isaac

501 notes · View notes

miasmaghoul · 1 year

Note

I’m so zooted and feeling certain emotions i didnt even think i could possibly ascend to, i think around 60% are horny but atp my emotional-ness is a solid yes.

Now i have a prompt, just hear me out, a transmasc dew sandwiched between two ghouls, like Swiss ‘nd Aether??? I dunno man, i have thoughts i didnt know could be thunk

I cannot express to you how quickly I had a scene for this in my head, it was like getting hit by a flashbang.

One needy transmasc Dew sandwich, cumming right up!

Dewdrop is surrounded. He can't catch his breath, can't move, can't do anything but drool and whine and take what's given to him.

It's bliss.

He's knelt between the softness of Aether and the firmness of Swiss, their bodies engulfing his own. Seated fully on Aether's impossibly fat cock, the ghoul's strong hands firm around Dew's bony hips. Moving his slight form however he sees fit. Every push and pull makes Dew's brain leak out his ears; he can feel the way he's dripping slick, so hot and wet and so much. It must be everywhere, all over Aether and pooled on the sheets below. The image makes him shiver and he tips his head back onto Aether's shoulder.

"Please," he squeaks, reaching back to thread trembling fingers through Aether's hair, "Aeth, please, I need -"

Dew moans, high and feminine, when Aether catches him in a deep kiss, letting the other ghoul lick into his mouth. He tastes like the weed they'd shared, combined with something uniquely Aether that Dew can never quite place. He sucks air through his nose when Aether moves him in slow circles, feeling every bit of the way the other ghoul stretches him.

"Feelin' good, baby?" Dew pulls from the kiss with a groan as Swiss latches on to his throat, his cock pressed against the fire ghoul's twitching abdomen. "Sounds like it. Aeth got you all filled up like you deserve?"

Dew tries to nod, but he's pinned. His other hand worms it's way into Swiss's hair, hanging on for dear life as the multighoul starts moving down to mouth at his chest. Aether lifts him barely and inch before pulling him back down, and even that brief drag against his walls has Dew keening.

"More," Dew whimpers, pressing sloppy kisses to Aether's jaw. "Need...please." He has no idea what he's begging for, lost in the throb of Aether inside him and Swiss's mouth against his skin.

"You look so pretty like this," Swiss murmurs as though Dew hadn't even spoken, licking a stripe over a prominent collar bone. "All shaky and blushing. Doesn't he, Aeth?" Swiss kisses just above one of Dew's nipples and the little ghoul gasps, trying to hold Swiss's head to him, to get more.

"Always," Aether purrs, deep voice reverberating through Dew's chest. It makes him clench so hard they both gasp, makes his clit throb and his lashes wet. "Always so sweet for us. Aren't you, firefly?"

Dewdrop tells himself that he wants to cringe at the praise, wants to bitch and argue that he's not pretty or sweet. But it's a lie - when they have him like this, pinned and helpless, the center of attention, all he can do is preen.

"Yeah," he breathes, burying his face in Aether's neck. "For you, always good for you." He can't stop shaking. They've had him like this for so long, he can't take much more.

He never wants it to stop.

The other ghouls groan in unison, Swiss finally flicking his tongue over a nipple and Aether grinding up into him. It shoots sparks down his spine and Dew cries out, hyperaware of the kick of Aether inside him and the way Swiss leaks pre onto his thigh. He whimpers, grabbing at the ghouls overwhelming him.

"You wanna make Aeth cum, baby?" Swiss moves to bite gently at his nipple, a callused finger rubbing the other as Dewdrop chokes on his inhale. "Want him to get you all full?"

Dew wails as Aether lifts him suddenly, slamming him back down at an angle that has him seeing stars. He scrabbles at Swiss's shoulders, digging in blunt nails as Aether repeats twice more, Swiss's thumb coming to rest just above his aching, ignored clit. He's out of his mind, out of his body, and all he wants is them.

"Need it, need to, oh fuck," he feels hysterical, Aether holding him still again while Swiss grins up at him with crinkled eyes. He nuzzles into Aether's neck, voice small. "Please let me help you cum."

Aether sounds like he's been punched in the gut. They're moving immediately - Swiss shuffles back on his knees, stroking himself with a lazy hand as Aether wraps one arm around Dew's waist. The other snakes around his chest, holding him tight as Aether lays down on his back, Dew using him like a mattress. Every little move shifts the way Aether sits inside him, and Dew can't hold in the sad little sounds pouring from his lips.

"Shh, 's okay," Swiss soothes, Dew looking up at him with bleary eyes. "Just keep bein' good for us, sweetheart. Gonna take care of you."

Like he could hope to do anything else.

Swiss grips the backs of Dew's knees and raises his legs, the little ghoul letting out a soft yelp, off balance. Aether still has him held tight though, pouring praise and reassurance into his ear. The words swirl around Dew's fuzzy mind, eyes slipping shut as he lets himself be arranged and tries to remember how to breathe. Calm.

"There you go, that's it," Aether's voice is like a warm blanket, soothing the sharp ache in his chest, "almost ready, firefly, just relax for us."

He does, floating on Aether's voice and the feeling of large hands and strong arms. He's barely aware of the way Aether bends his knees, planting his feet on the bed and shifting his hips enough to drag an involuntary trill from the fire ghoul. He hardly registers Swiss gripping his own legs, holding them up and open while the multighoul moves to lay on his stomach.

"Such a good view from here," he says, thumbs rubbing slow circles into Dewdrop's thighs. "Gonna be able to see what a filthy mess you are."

Aether grips his hips as Swiss presses a wet kiss just above his clit, and Dew's whole body lights up in red-hot shame up as realization hits. His heavy head shoots from Aether's chest, panic etched on his features.

"Oh no, Swiss, you-"

Dew breaks off into a broken moan as Swiss runs his tongue through his slick folds, slow licks that trace every bit of the way he's stretched around Aether. He tries to slam his legs together, but Swiss's grip doesn't let him.

"Fuck, you taste so good gumdrop," Swiss breathes into the hollow of his hip, Dew chewing his lip and grabbing at his own hair. His skin is on fire, his muscles jelly, a wanton moan torn from deep in his chest as Swiss kisses his clit. "Can't wait to eat Aeth out of you."

Dew feels himself clamp down at that, feels his toes curl, Aether grunting beneath him. Aether rolls his hips, uses his legs to piston upwards and thrust in so deep Dew's eyes roll back, breath knocked from his lungs. Swiss's tongue is back on him, and the sensation is so wildly overwhelming that Dew wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't the only one crying. Aether presses the heel of his hand into Dew's lower belly, Swiss wraps his lips around his clit, and Dewdrop feels himself unraveling already.

The room is filled with sinful moans, cursing and the hypnotic sound of Dew being thoroughly owned. He's so far gone that he hopes he never comes back. He's being picked apart bit by bit, and soon there'll be nothing left. Reduced to flayed nerves and the chemical soup between his ears.

He can't wait.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #aether/dew/swiss #transmasc dewdrop

167 notes · View notes

spotty-is-slumberous · 2 months

Text

So… this is. A bit of an emotional post for me to make, and I’ve rewritten it a few times and cried over it far more, just because I’ve been feeling very lost and hopeless recently, and I just… really want some advice. Some suggestions. … Some comfort, even.

I turn 20 in April. I spent my last “milestone” birthday, the 18th, half-convinced that I was dying because I had undiagnosed POTS, narcolepsy, and intense chronic pain that genuinely made me feel like I was on death’s door… so, uh, I didn’t really do anything special for that birthday. Or my 19th, as I was also in very poor health… though I’ve now come to the understanding, two years later, that this “poor health” is just. Not ever going to get better.

I haven’t done something “big” for a birthday since I was a lot younger. And with the way things are shaping up for me, this might be the last birthday I’m able to share with my family before I’m inevitably kicked out because I just can’t keep up with college and the deal was I either stay in school or work to stay at home, and I can’t get a physical job for reasons that’ll become clearer later on.

So… This all to say, I’d like to do something “big” for this birthday. But… I have some pretty heavy restrictions. I don’t have a wheelchair (The cheapest one I have my eye on is about $300 out of pocket, and I just. Don’t have that money. Ive been trying to save up for that, though, as it would help me get an actual job + let me get out of my house more with significantly less worry… I’ve been begging my doctors to help me get it covered by insurance, but they claim that it’ll just make me regress, which is… a whole other issue) and can only walk maybe 5-10 minutes with a cane before I need to rest. If I push myself, I’ll be bedbound with blinding pain for the next day or so, or I’ll just straight up pass out — or, usually, both. The weather is turning warmer, and I have a severe case of heat intolerance, so I can’t be outside for long.

I’m not a fan of museums or aquariums or the like… Im not smart enough for escape rooms… Bowling is out. Most arcades are out. I don’t live in a very accessible town… I don’t really want to go and see a movie; that just doesn’t feel like “enough” of a thing to go and do… So, my point here is: Does anyone have any suggestions for what I could possibly go out and do? Just random local town suggestions… I like writing and reading and art and animals haha, if that helps spark anything…

Sorry if this is just… dumb. I probably won’t get a lot of answers anyway, I’m just… I want to do something. And I’d just like some suggestions… maybe some reassurance that it’ll get better someday, and I’ll be able to have a normal birthday again… I dunno’.

Thank you for reading :) and thank you for any suggestions

#spotty speaks #actually disabled #disabled #pots #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #chronically ill #advice #disability advice #young disabled #disability #disability community #I’m just… lost. I want to feel like a kid and just…. have fun. and not be a burden on anybody #I’ve been sobbing for like the past 30 minutes as I write this ugh #like I said… any advice or suggestions would be good :)#disabled community #disabled advice #advice wanted #suggestions wanted

14 notes · View notes

lilas · 5 months

Text

wip whensday

ty for the tag @thevikingwoman and also other people who have tagged me in recent weeks 🥰

I’ve been chipping away at a collection of snippets about Avi’li and Erenville hanging out in the immediate aftermath of ENW. And I’m sorry I just tagged you in a post you shouldn’t read, Viking. 😭

tagging no one because it is thursday

[ENW SPOILERS]

The crystal lays in his palm, small and refined into its precise shape. The touch and feel of it is familiar to Avi’li now. Comforting and smooth. Made even smoother perhaps, by how often he’s held it this past two days. In the dim light of his rooms of the Lavelleiur estate, when that dark, lonely memory of Ultima Thule threatens to take root in his heart, the crystal is a balm. Warm and bright and protective and fierce and Avi’li holds it close to his chest like a shield.

He closes his eyes, feels the magic within spark to life and thread with his aether in a nostalgic dance lost to memory and time. Feels his aether answer the magic in kind, and he swears he can almost hear that voice again, soft like a distant song sung under the breath.

“Y’know, it actually spoke to me?” Avi grins at the skeptical look Erenville gives. No, not skeptical, curious. “No shit. I dunno if it was dynamis or magic or whatever other bullshit, but it—they spoke to me.”

“They?”

“One of the ancients. Someone known as Azem.”

Someone known as Azem. Convocation member Azem. Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus’s dearest friend Azem. The traitor Azem.

“And this is one of the Ancients when you went back into the past?” Erenville scoffs, shaking his head. “I still struggle to wrap my head around that specific feat.”

A slight smile lifts Avi’s lip. Elpis seems so distant and far away now. “We didn’t meet. Guessin’ they had other things to do.”

#i love… thinking about avi’s relationship with azem #endwalker spoilers #lilas wips #ffxiv wips #adventures in labyrinthos

10 notes · View notes

dontspillthefrijoles43 · 5 months

Text

Lost Hero- XII Breisa

Inconveniences

Warnings: Teenagers being teenagers, demigods not getting a break, weird dreams, fluff if you squint

Word count: 800

Summary: Another thing after another, being a demigod sucks— especially being a Hecate kid

Breisa realized that there were three things inconvenient to being a Hecate child.

The first thing was that magic required a lot of skill and patience for it to work. She had neither of those qualities.

The second thing was how intrusive to another person's privacy. She would rather not know why Cal wants to bash in demigod faces.

And the last was how scary and unpredictable it can be.

How did Breisa come to this conclusion? Just pure frickin’ coincidence.

Take the argument that occurred in the hotel room. Leo’s anger had hit her point blank with a vengeance— there was something underlying in it. A spark. But not magic like hers. It was different. And powerful.

Unfortunately the spark wasn’t the only thing. His anger caused a vision.

Briesa saw pieces of it on the way to the palace, but his anger made it clear:

White embers bursting from Leo's hands.

The same steel doors shut close to garage in flames— the sign on top of it said “Espranza’s” burning from both ends.

Dirt women with that same sleepy smile.

Leo had fire abilities.

That killed his mom.

That was the big secret.

Knowing this was the worst. She had no right to pry into his mind and learn of this secret. Even if she kept pressuring him to tell. Only he could have given her that right to know.

If it wasn’t for Breisa’s powers she would have been blissfully clueless.

So yeah being a Hecate kid had major inconveniences.

But, there were some advantages. Like making mini snowmen to entertain Hockey buff. Who in turn let Leo reactivate Festus.

“Fight Fight!!” Cal cheered at the snowmen as they pushed and shoved at each other.

Breisa stood above the snowmen, moving her fingers like a puppeteer. Purple aurora (mist?) twisted along her fingers, some of it floated to the limbs of the snowmen. They moved with her fingers.

“How are you doing that?” Leo spoked suddenly. He had been quiet since the hotel room.

Festus clicked at the snow, he seemed curious as well.

“Dunno.” She shrugged as nonchalant as possible, “Just thought what would entertain a big dumb violent Jock—fighting. So I thought about action figures. And well these guys came along. I guess I summoned them?”

Leo was about to ask another question, when footsteps were heard from the stairs. “Oh meirda. Here they come.”

Breisa stopped moving her fingers causing the purple to fade and the snowmen melted into the ground.

“Awe.” Cal pouted.

“Sorry.” Breisa muttered and quickly put her attention to Khione leading Piper and Jason down.

At the bottom step, Khione turned to Piper. “You have fooled my father, girl. But you have not fooled me. We are not done. And you, Jason Grace, I will see you as a statue in the throne room soon enough.”

“Boreas is right,” Jason said. “You’re a spoiled kid. See you around, ice princess.”

Khione’s eyes flared pure white. For once, she seemed at a loss for words. She stormed back up the stairs—literally.

Halfway up, she turned into a blizzard and disappeared.

“Be careful,” Zethes warned. “She never forgets an insult.”

Cal grunted in agreement. “Bad sister.”

“She’s the goddess of snow,” Jason said. “What’s she going to do, throw snowballs at us?”

Breisa stuck in a breath. She had a feeling that the snow goddess was more than capable of causing a couple of storms than snowballs.

Leo looked devastated. “What happened up there? You made her mad? Is she mad at me too? Guys, that was my prom date!”

“Seriously? Killer frosty as a date?” Breisa scoffed, but quickly caught herself. “Whatever man. Anyone want to share what the hell happened up there?”

“We’ll explain later,” Piper promised, sharing a look with Jason.

“Yeah,” he agreed after a beat, “We’ll explain later.”

Breisa gave a look to Leo, and he looked just as confused as her

“Be careful, pretty girl,” Zethes said to Piper. “The winds between here and Chicago are bad-tempered. Many other evil things are stirring. I am sorry you will not be staying. You would make a lovely ice statue, in which I could check my reflection.”

“Thanks,” Piper said. “But I’d sooner play hockey with Cal.”

“Hockey?” Cal’s eyes lit up.

“Joking,” Piper said. “And the storm winds aren’t our worst problem, are they?”

“Oh, no,” Zethes agreed. “Something else. Something worse.”

“Worse,” Cal echoed.

Breisa wondered what that meant.

“Can you tell me?” Piper gave them a smile.

This time, the charm didn’t work. The purple-winged Boreads shook their heads in unison. The hangar doors opened onto a freezing starry night, and Festus the dragon stomped his feet, anxious to fly.

“Ask Aeolus what is worse,” Zethes said darkly. “He knows. Good luck.”

He almost sounded like he cared what happened to them, even though a few minutes ago he’d wanted to make Piper into an ice sculpture.

Cal patted Leo and Breisa on the shoulder. “Don’t get destroyed,” he said, which was probably the longest sentence he’d ever attempted. “Next time—hockey. Pizza. And Fights!”

“Come on, guys.” Jason stared out at the dark. He was eager to get going. “Let’s go to Chicago and try not to get destroyed.”

Now gliding through the air, Breisa hoped and prayed that whatever was in Chicago would be easier.

After hearing about the interaction with Boreas—threats of being turned to ice, his personality flipped from Greek to Roman, and how their quest humored him— it didn’t seem likely that the ride would smooth over soon.

Leo passed Breisa some sandwiches from his pack. She passed them back to Piper and Jason making sure she gave Piper the vegan one.

Leo had been weirdly quiet ever since they’d told him what happened in the throne room.

“I still can’t believe Khione,” he said. “She looked so nice.”

“I think you’re mistaking niceness for bitchiness.” Breisa grumbled from behind him.

“Trust me, man,” Jason said. “Snow may be pretty, but up close it’s cold and nasty.”

“We’ll find you a better prom date.” Piper smiled, but Leo didn’t look pleased.

Neither him or Breisa mentioned much about their time in the hotel.

With what Breisa knew, she wondered if Leo would ever open up about his powers.

But it seemed like that vision memory might be imprinted in his brain at the moment. She still felt awful for causing it. And deciding to deal with their issues later— Breisa they would break into arguing again.

His mood seemed to be affecting Festus, who grumbled and steamed as he tried to keep himself warm in the cold Canadian air. Happy the Dragon was not so happy.

Nobody talked.

They were all in a mood.

Breisa spaced out and stared into the starry sky. Snow flakes fell, landing into her curls. You could never get this view in East Los.

Her eyelids were getting heavy. She realized how tired she really was.

But how could she possibly sleep right now? It would be better on a comfortable bed.

“Deberías dormir.” Leo looked from the corner of his eye. “It’s a long way to Chicago, you know…It wouldn’t be good if you’re a delirious zombie when we land.”

“I'm the kid of a night goddess.” She argued, “I can stay up.”

“Tell that to the bags under your eyes.” Leo remarked, “You already did a night watch. It's your turn to get some rest. Besides, they’re already passed out.”

Breisa looked to see that he was right. Piper was leaning back on Jason. Both were sound asleep.

With them looking all snuggled up– her whole body began to wear down.

She yawned. “No me dejarás caer.”

“Can’t let you go splat,” Leo said. “Who else is going to manipulate dumb jocks with magic tricks?”

“Hmn.” Breisa hummed. Then leaned down and rested her head on his shoulder with her arms around his waist. Her sleep deprived mind was completely unaware of her actions.

The warmth that Leo radiated was cozy, safe. And he smelled like cinderwood and cinnamon. Surprisingly the army coat added to comfort, it almost felt like a pillow.

The world began to melt away, and she began to dream…

—

“¡Aye, No!” The voice of her Tía cried. “That girl is in so much trouble when she gets home!”

She was in the tiny dining room-kitchen of their small apartment. Pacing between table and stove.

The window above the dining table was open a bit—That meant she just had her cafecito and conchas. Tía Celia liked to enjoy it with the calming scenery of downtown. Especially since Christmas was coming around the corner.

Although right now she is not so calm. She still had her work uniform on. So she might’ve also just gone off.

The home phone was in her grasp. Which meant that she either got a call from Breisa’s school or her own half ass voicemail.

Neither would be considered good news.

“Por Dios.” Tía sighed, “Mateo, you gave me a lot to work with. She’s exactly like us when we were young. Getting into trouble…¿Qué puedo hacer?”

Breisa felt guilty. She didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I know she’s a good kid.” Tía spoke aloud tearfully, “Was sending her away the right thing? I hope this would’ve helped…Am I a bad person?”

‘No!’ Breisa wanted to scream. ‘You aren’t a bad person, Tia! It’s my fault! I’m…I’m sorry.”

Her aunt paused. Like she heard her.

Then she shook her head. “I can’t stress myself out. You wouldn’t have wanted that. Neither would Mija. I need to figure out how I’m going to find her. Especially if she’s staying with a friend.”

She began to dial a phone number. It rang.

Oh boy. Breisa thought. Tía Celica would not be happy once she figured out that she was across the country. Could chácalas travel that far?

She just needed her to stay away. At least until she could get home. And explain everything.

Breisa wished that Tía would just trust that she could handle herself.

The strangest thing happened. Tía paused again. She looked around the apartment. Her eyes landed directly on Breisa's. They held eye contact for a brief moment, before she looked away.

Tía hung up the phone. “I’ll wait. I can’t jump to conclusions. Not like last time…I just hope she calls soon.”

Before Breisa could react the dream shifted. The world spun. And she was submerged in darkness. It was like murky water, but more goopy.

She looked and moved around trying to adjust. But she only sank in.

“It will do you no use, little witch.” That familiar voice rumbled. Her accent stronger and more prominent than before.“You will not find much here. Not if I allow it.”

Bresia breathed uneasily. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

The voice cackled in delight,“To warn you, little witch. See my companions are coming after you and your friends.

If you stick with them, you’ll surely die…but if you choose to leave them. Betray them, so much better. Walk away.

I’ll give you back the life you deserve. You are so much better without them. With your loving aunt, who won’t worry any more. Maybe you’ll reunite with your father.”

Breisa hesitated for a moment. But she shook her head. “No! I’m not letting you get in my head. I won’t walk away. I won’t let you hurt them. We’ll stop you.”

“Strong willed are we?” The voice growled, “Why do you protect? High and mighty sky prince can not recognize his namesake. How do you know he is not dangerous? The girl is manipulative and she hardly knows you. She could easily use you.

And that Fire boy. You think he would forgive you for learning of his secret? And the things you have done to him? Surely the hate will drive you apart.”

“Shut up!” Breisa snapped. Then she regretted it, but she held her ground. “I won’t leave them. You’ll have better than words.”

The voice snarled, “If that’s your choice. They only hold you back. Hope you have a nice trip demigod.``

Breisa felt cold breeze on her neck, the dream world spun—

And she woke up to everyone screaming.

Breisa was free-falling through the air.

—

(A/N: Five months is a long time 😅, but I’m back. Posting slowly, trying to get to the meat of this this story. Hope you all enjoy this, editing for a really long time. [As well as other chapters before] Also it’s ✨Christmas season🎄✨ figured it be the best time to post this.)

Translations for the chapter— coming soon

#leo valdez #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez x fem! reader #poc oc #spanish speaking oc #heroes of olympus #lost hero #pjo tumblr #jason grace #piper mclean #Breisa Alessandro #Hoo #fem!oc #pjo

15 notes · View notes