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#frank doesn't give a shit

carnivalcarriondiscarded · 8 months

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sorry im coping with aus again oopsie daisy. anyway here's my take on a fantasy au

it all started with me rewatching the D&D movie and thinking "hm. what (broad) classes would the neighbors have?"

and after much thinking i came to the conclusion: Barnaby = Bard / Eddie = Paladin / Sally = Sorcerer / Julie = fighter / Frank = monk / Howdy = Artificer / Poppy = Healer / Wally = 'Wizard'

those seem fitting! BUT i don't like restrictions or rules so in this very light worldbuilding for a casual (strongly glaring at myself here) CASUAL au, it's only dnd-esque. not actually dnd yk yk

in my head, they're not technically puppets for this au. they're flesh and blood, they've got bones, etc. they're actual Creatures, though they still look like Them! Julie's still pink w/ candy-corn-horns! Frank is still a gray tube! Barnaby is a big blue dog! they're just... not puppets. it's the same for the other beings in this fantasy world - they all keep the style, but they're all flesh n' blood if that makes sense. a cartoony fantasy world

so they have their little found family adventuring group titled, of course, The Neighborhood. because when they were first forming, Wally went "oh! are we a neighborhood? i've always wanted neighbors!" and it Stuck. so they all lovingly refer to each other as neighbors, even though the closest they get to being actual neighbors is pitching their tents next to each other & staying at an Inn in neighboring rooms

like your classic group of adventurers, they're almost constantly on the move. the longest they stay in one place is a couple of months - the rest of the time they're wandering! they take quests, get roped into general Shenanigans, etc. they adventure! and get into a lot of battles of varying severity

so Barnaby is still kiiiiind of a bard? best i can describe him is jack-of-all-trades moral support! he provides battle music, keeps the mood light, and stands off to the side to offer quips and tips. he prefers not to fight, and only Gets Involved when the others need Backup. even then, he usually takes the role of defending his neighbors. he has a good eye for whether or not physical support is needed - he never needs to be asked when there's a legitimate need for him! unless he's thoroughly distracted from the goings-on. he does have magic, but it's more for show / defense-based

Eddie's still pretty classically a paladin. healing powers, armor, there to be on the front lines and Protect! the group's sword and shield! he technically serves a god but he forgot who <3 he just makes the occasional general offering and mumbles some vague prayer. he's super friendly! super helpful! super willing to dive into the line of fire! Will disregard his own safety without a second thought! his magic is pretty much restricted to healing, and it's weak healing at that (maybe because he can't properly serve his god...), so it's mostly good for quick mid-battle heals and little wounds. temporary fixes!

Sally has innate fire/light magic, and she's very showy with it! she puts Flair and Pizazz into all of her casts and is very dramatic on the battlefield - she manages to turn her fights into a performance. She tag-teams keeping the Neighborhood entertained with Barnaby. he handles the humor/lightheartedness, she handles the escapism/encouragement. she writes scripts & stories in her off-time, and often reads them (or spins a new one) after dinner. when they have weeks / month breaks in one spot, sometimes she'll recruit local thespians to create a play

Frank is all about that hand-to-hand combat babey! he wants to feel bones break under his fists! he wants those split knuckles! he very often starts fights, and even more often finishes them - what he lacks in raw power he makes up for in vicious tenacity. he just Keeps On Going! he seconds as the group's Knowledge Guy. while his hobby is studying insects, he also catalogues/studies monsters and enemies and terrain so that the Neighborhood can always be prepared. the only time he stays out of fights is when he's researching or note-taking. he tries to micromanage the battle from afar anyway

Julie is like... put a druid, a fighter, and a barbarian in a blender. she's got a big sword! she's got seemingly endless energy in battle! she can talk to plants, especially flowers! her flora magic is very minor, so it's not like she's making giant roots burst out of the ground and strangle people. but plants can give her information, and if she asks nicely and they feel like it, sometimes they'll help her out. in battle she's a force to be reckoned with! nothing will stop her and her sword! she's usually the second (closely following Frank, with Eddie hot on her heels) Neighbor charging into battle - but she's the one with the stellar war cry! & where Sally and Barnaby tend to the Neighborhood's emotional wellbeing & entertainment, Julie keeps things fresh with Physical Activities during their downtime!

Poppy is a powerful healer! she draws on an individual's energy (often taps into her own as well) to convert it into healing power. it's draining but it's damn good healing! she also takes the role of the Neighborhood's cook (the others still like to help, especially Frank who is essentially her sous-chef) and makes sure they're all healthy. she hangs back during battles, waiting to (and hoping that she doesn't have to) heal a wounded Neighbor. if one of them is badly hit, she forces herself to run into battle and drag them to safety before working on their injury. she has a tiny bit of illusion magic, which she'll cast from afar to assist her Neighbors. she tries not to use it outside of emergencies - it takes a lot of energy, which she tries to conserve just in case.

Howdy has Zero Magic! none! four hands and none of them are magical! however, he's a damn good inventor & a whiz at potion making. he can Use magical items like there's no tomorrow - he just can't wield it himself. he supplies the group with potions, helpful items, all sorts of goodies - given that they can trade for it with anything he'd accept in-canon. the only exception is when they're mid-battle - he hands stuff out when needed without haggle. he supplies the group with their cash when they're not getting it from looting/quests - he has a magic backpack that can unfold into a fully-stocked merchant stall! he sells at towns, on the road, anywhere he can! In battle he hangs back with Poppy and, yes, supplies items, but he also uses ranged attacks - magical weapons that cast for him, magic 'bombs', that sort of thing! but there's a little secret - he's the Neighborhood's secret weapon. he invented fantasy guns! four magic revolvers that, when the 'second safety' is turned off, multiply into a giant clusterfuck of guns (with ammo ranging from magic 'bullets' to essentially rocket launchers). unfortunately he can only use this setting once & for a limited time before the guns overload & have to be manually repaired. so he either uses them off of the first safety (i.e, they're 'normal'), or not at all. you know shit is Really hitting the fan when he joins a fight

and Wally! Wally Wally Wally... you may have noticed that i put his class 'wizard' in quotes. that's because he says he's a wizard, but he's not! he just says he's one due to the automatic stigma and fear of what he really is - a Warlock! his patron is Home, an eldritch horror that many would classify as a demon. they have a very special, codependent pact that neither of them can live without - Wally wears their 'seal' as a house-shaped pendant on a choker (necklace) hidden under his clothes. Home is extraordinarily powerful, but Wally barely taps into that power. he has a grimoire that Home inscribed with a bunch of sigils that convert into spells when drawn & then cast in the air. the only other powers he uses are seeing-in-the-dark, seeing-magic, and opening teleportation doors! Wally can't sleep, but he can doze - though he's never fully unaware of his surroundings (its kind of like how dolphins only sleep with one half of their brain). he still eats with his eyes, which both feeds him & acts as a form of providing daily energy to Home, since Home can't exactly consume souls every day. If Wally uses too much magic, he has to rest inside of Home's house-form, which is the only time he actually fully sleeps. no one knows about Home, or that Wally is lying about his wizard status.

Home is a lovecraftian being with three forms. the first is the lowest power level - a cute one-room house with Eyes! i.e: Home Classic! Wally's pendant unfolds into it, and it's the main way Wally and Home physically interact & communicate. the second is possession - if Wally explicitly allows it, Home can completely take over his body and kind of 'tuck him away' to have a nice deep nap while Home takes the reins (Home can technically force this, but it's very difficult and would not go over well w/ Wally - it would also be an unstable possession). the third is Home's true form - a massive shadowy eldritch monster made of writhing darkness and nightmares that no one in their right mind would look at, let alone fight. Home has very complicated feelings about Wally & the Neighborhood. they are also, quite literally, Wally's heart - which is part of their pact.

i have some scene ideas & little Plot Concepts (most notably the times the Neighborhood learns two Very Big Secrets about Wally, one of which being the warlock/Home reveal).

but yeah that's moooostly it. basic stuff yk, not very in depth! just fun things to feed my maladaptive daydreaming & escapism

#warlock-masquerading-as-a-wizard wally is fun #cause youve got this funny little guy! in his little wizard outfit and his staff and classic wizard eccentricities!#but he has a lovecraftian horror curled up in his chest excited for its next opportunity to consume souls #home when making wally's body: ah fuck how do people eat again??? with their eyes right??? that sounds right... thats how i eat...#home a week later: shitshitshit their MOUTHS they eat with this Mouths goddamn it.... too late to fix it now #cut to wally internally panicking while watching other people drink/eat normally #hm i Realized that like... half the Neighborhood more often than not doesn't outright fight #poppy hangs back. howdy hangs back. barnaby rarely joins. frank is often busy researching #and then you've got eddie & julie going full-tilt nonstop absolutely mowing down enemies like there's no tomorrow. sword besties <3 #wally and Sally casting from the middle ground...#wh fantasy au #maybe the howdy enthusiast in me is jumping out lately but hes soooo good in this au i swear #he's out here bargaining over a potion with his own neighbor mid-battle #bc he Will be funny about it when the stakes aren't high #forcing them to go through transactions even though he'd give the goods to em anyway #him vibing with poppy & barnaby while explosions go off in the background #and then when shit hits the fan he gets to be a Certified Badass and whips out the big guns with the cockiest grin you've ever seen #hes fun. i love him.#they're all fun. i love them.#home & wally make me especially Ough in this au. their relationship is so messy and you literally cannot have one without the other

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llatimeria · 8 months

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Just finished The Santaroga Barrier by Frank Herbert (my dad likes to play audiobooks in the car on trips) and I didn't like it much (and there's quite a bit of Yikes in it, because frank herbert and the 1960s in general,) but the aspect I found most interesting was the concept of like. A world's subconscious desire to kill The Other.

In the book an investigator visits a small cultish town in order to investigate it for a market study after a few other researchers mysteriously died. he gets into a frightening number of "accidents" while he's there (like the former investigators) and starts believing that there was a conspiracy among the townsfolk and all of them were intentionally trying to murder him.

tl;dr, it turns out it actually was a subconscious yet intense phobia/hatred they had of The Outside they had as part of their personal traumas, childhood indoctrination into their local cult, and the LSD-like drug they were constantly on. They didn't mean the investigator any harm, if anything they were extremely welcoming, kind, well-meaning people, but this background radiation of fear and rage kept making them accidentally do things to kill him - mixing up insecticide and spices in his food, gas fumes being pumped in his hotel room after a botched maintenance job, a torn carpet tripping him off the railing of the balcony, and Many Other subtle attempts on his life that he just happened to avoid by sheer chance.

But all the townsfolk don't really think anything of it - the town doctor, especially skeptical, "diagnoses" him as "accident-prone" until the investigator begs and pleads with him for days after several brutal accidents in a row, and only then does the doctor start believing him but even then only comes up with the theory that all of this supposed malice towards the investigator is "subconscious" - later shown to likely be correct when the investigator himself, after overdosing on their special drug, "accidentally" shoves his colleague off a roof, killing him, but the investigator physically cannot see it as anything but an accident anymore. it simply doesn't reach his mind that he killed a former friend of his. it was just an accident. he just fell, all on his own.

the idea of A Town That Wants To Kill You, But It's Nothing Personal resonated with me from the perspective of being a disabled person, especially one in a generally welcoming, accepting environment. when you're disabled, not a lot of people will come to you bearing their ableism between their teeth. They'll be nice, insensitive maybe, but nice, and are often outwardly willing to accomodate you. But they also stick out their leg as you're walking along to trip you. They'll apologize, and you'll maybe even believe it, even though to you, from your perspective, it was obviously an attempt to harm you. You excuse it once, maybe twice, but after a point, you realize that this world, this community you have entered, is actively hostile towards you and everyone like you. so you start screaming it to the rooftops. you tell authorities that the world wants to hurt you, but they begin affixing labels to you like "paranoid" or "anxious". they know no one actually has it out for you, personally, after all. that would be ridiculous.

but you still keep getting tripped down the stairs. the rat poison and the sugar at your favorite coffee shop still keep getting mixed up, but only when it's your order. in the hospital, recovering from your previous "accidents", a nurse will still accidentally pump you full of saline instead of medicine.

after a point, doesn't the fact that all of these are "accidents", and that no one WANTS to kill you, just... stop mattering a little bit? Yeah, no one wants to hurt you, but they just keep doing it. They keep making stupid little mistakes. They know everyone like you who has visited their community has died or been seriously injured under suspicious circumstances, but the idea that they, themselves, could be a little bit at fault just doesn't even register to them. they don't even consider that they might have to change their ways in order to protect people like you. After all, you can't prepare for every "freak accident". Even when the solution could be as simple as "stop putting rat poison next to the sugar", every time it happens to you, or a person like you, it's just an "accident", that no one "meant" any harm, and "nothing could be done".

it doesn't cross their mind that a string of unfortunate accidents ceases to be accidents, but serious negligence. it can't cross their mind, because they're not the victims here. they only even begin to acknowledge something might be wrong when the victims are screaming in their face, day after day. even then, they come to the conclusion that even if you're right, and the community does want to kill you because you are Other, they won't immediately see anything wrong with that. To Them, the answer is clear as day: just become one of Them, and you'll be safe. They take care of their own.

#this isn't even really what the santaroga barrier is even about i just found this to be a useful structure for talking about disability #It's not... NOT what it's about??#it's definitely got themes of Otherness #but it's more about like.#My dad put it as 'how much of your individuality would you give up to live in paradise'#which is also interesting to think about but . imo if i have to give up parts of myself it would no longer be paradise #But also a lot of what the cult-town tries to get you to 'give up' is. like. Believing in capitalism #And to me it definitely feels like Herbert was on the santarogan's side with that part at least but it's still interesting that that's like #it's still interesting that That of all things is what you have to give up in order to Become Santarogan.#Like. Personally i'd have to change very little to become a santarogan. the trade off for me is not that huge #which makes the protagonist actually seem a little unhinged and unnecessarily hostile #Does daesin just want to believe in capitalism That Badly even when he doesn't understand that that's what this is about #Is it like the scene from They Live where the protagonist tries to get his friend to wear the Anticapitalism Sunglasses but the friend #just refuses point blank even though he has no reason to?#idk. it's definitely an interesting premise. but the racisms. and the misogynies. it's really hard to look past that #especially the part where one black character describes himself like #'before [santaroga] i was an ignorant [n slur hard r]. now i am an educated n-gro“#which was just. holy fucking shit. that is unspeakably awful. shut the fuck up frank #Also a part where a woman disrobes herself to prove herself to be no harm to the investigator [her fiancee]#and he says something like. 'you're so beautiful i just might rape you' and shes just like teehee thats sweet :)#Which. Bad. Very nasty. Don't say that.#And the general concept of potentially using that woman to lure the investigator into the cult. it's unclear how much of that was #on purpose on the part of santarogans but it does have this slimy Women Are Evil Temptresses That Trap Men In Bad Situations miasma to it #anyways. sorry for blabbing on and on about a 50 year old book by the same guy who wrote dune which is clearly an unquestionable masterpiece #/s.#I just had no choice in listening to this story while sitting in the back of a car on Very Empty Montana And Wyoming Highways #so I might as well rotate it just a little I guess. nothing better to do

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ecurai · 10 months

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Look, it was pretty obvious we were getting the Bortasqu’ and Lleiset back. But still.

Anyway, it was a lot less obvious to Ael.

She’s much, much closer to Koren than to Jarok, just due to circumstance and personality; but Lleiset is still Romulus’ Enterprise. She doesn’t have to love the ship on an interpersonal level for it to mean something seeing her safe.

#ironically there's good odds Avarel ends up reasonably close to Jarok for the same reasons #Ael likes Koren because she's frank and kind and secure #secure enough that she doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks and can befriend who she wants #Avarel will probably be a little more intimidated #and Jarok is calm and safe and quiet #reassuring in a different way

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obvious-captain-rogers · 1 year

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All you need to do if you want Frank Castle’s wardrobe is to walk into your nearest Rural King or Tractor Supply

#LISTEN #it's the same shit but in black #like homeboy doesn't give a single fuck #he's here for utility and utility only.#frank castle #the punisher #punisher

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inkskinned · 1 month

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okay if you're really cool about things, i can be honest with you. before you read further, decide if you're a girl's girl. if you're cool and actually cool or like not cool.

men don't talk in my book because i was fuckken tired of the way they're the center of every fucking story. i was tired of how every story takes a moment to let them talk. men can shut up for literally one fucking book.

unfortunately not everyone is cool. professionally what i usually say is i didn't want to add violence to the world. the only men in my book are abusers, so they don't get to talk. they don't get to take up space. they ruined my life, they don't get to have their words echo anymore.

because like, yeah! you find practically any story about a person surviving trauma and... there's a man at the center. men are often rescuing us from these things. a "good man" is always standing around, being a good man, proving to the victim that good men are the real men. that her experience was unique rather than universal.

the redacted text has not been taken well by all of my early readers. there is this weird, crouching growl that keeps occurring with men-of-a-certain-age. why don't we hear his side of the story?

when i sat down to write everything that happened to me, i couldn't look at the frank brutality of my abuser's words on a page and think to myself: i actually let him speak like that. i had to redact his words from the manuscript. i then left it redacted. no victim is going to read this book and hear the person who hurt them. it is a book for the victims to speak. abusers shut up challenge, forever. for eternity.

my father once told me, chuckling, i should just have a page of redaction where i let the man just finally talk. it is funny to joke about how we should make a whole page in my book about a man that hurt me. this was not the only time someone commented - it feels like you're hiding things. how do i know you're actually a victim if he doesn't get to speak?

there are books where women aren't even present. i even genuinely like some of those books. like, who doesn't like the hobbit?

i keep running into people defending this imaginary man. the default narrative is so true to some people that they will defend any man, just by virtue of the assumption - "if he's acting like that, you had to push him." certain people need definitive proof that you didn't accidentally make your partner into an abuser. they need to decide if you deserved it, because they want to be able to judge you.

which makes sense, i guess, from a hind brain perspective. if you can figure out "why" someone was cruel, you can protect yourself against it. if you defend the bully, the bully might side with you. i don't really know their explanation for feeling this about a character in a book. trust me, i wrote the guy. he is not going to protect you.

i guess i just - there was a time in my life where i desperately wanted anyone to defend me. where i could have really used someone saying holy shit are you okay instead of what did you say to make him act like that to you.

instead, over dinner, a friend-of-a-friend i just met is pouring herself wine. i heard you wrote a book, she says. she gives me the kind of chilly smile i associate with knives. i heard it's unfair to men.

#the author is nonbinary. don't get fucking weird.#btw if ur a woman and u do this u go to advanced special hell. like if u defend ab*sers at all #u dont get to pretend ur protected from being misogynistic. ur not. we all have internal work.#writeblr #i can't write lately wtf

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pigfacedbitch · 8 months

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Let's Break Up (I)

summary : you try to do the break up prank on your boyfriend.

word count : 0.5k

type : headcanons

pairing/s : Jason Grace / Percy Jackson / Nico Di Angelo x Reader

warning/s : none

here is my masterlist! Part II is composed of Leo, Frank, and Will.

Jason Grace

"Let's break up."

Jason is formally trained to remain calm and level-headed in the most drastic of situations ever since he was young.

So if you're expecting him to look surprised or upset, he won't.

Don't be fooled though, he may look like he's listening as you explain but deep inside this electric boy is panicking! 😂

"Okay, Jason. What in Jupiter's name have you done to make (Y/N) upset? Think! THINK!"

It might take a while for Jason to respond because he is torn between asking you what he can do to fix it, what he did wrong, or just be desperate and beg you to stay with him.

So he does what any Roman would do in his place. Accept his fate.

He fixes his composure and coughs a little to avoid his voice from cracking.

"If that's what you think is best, I understand-"

"It's just a prank, love."

"Thank the gods."

You never knew your boyfriend could sigh that hard.

Jason laughs in relief and hugs you tightly, like he wasn't thinking of crying his heart out and eating ice cream alone in the Zeus cabin later.

He'll never tell you that though.

Percy Jackson

"I want to break up."

"Nope."

Percy just can't see the two of you breaking up. No matter how much he tries, he knows it's literally imposible.

He already has a list of plans; when he will propose, where to get married, where you'll spend the rest of your lives together, how many children you two will have, and their names. Even the number of pets allowed in your future home.

But you don't give up easily.

"What do you mean, no? Isn't that my decision?"

"OUR decision, (Y/N). And I say no."

"But-"

"No buts, baby. If you're tired of this relationship then rest. We'll try again in the morning."

You just pout in defeat, taking a bite of the blue chocolate chips cookies his mother made for him before he left for Camp Half-Blood.

He smirks like the handsome devil he is, pulling you into his arms and lays his head on your shoulder.

"There's no getting rid of me, (Y/N). You're stuck with me forever."

He doesn't notice the small smile on your face, preferring not to have it any other way.

Nico Di Angelo

"I was thinking of breaking up."

He would shadow travel even before you could say another word.

Just YEETS HIMSELF OUT😌

Good luck trying to find him because he would be nowhere to be found. You already asked everyone yet nobody knows where he is.

Hours passed, no sign of him. You got truly worried that you can't even fall asleep.

You were just laying on your bed, staring into nothing when you hear a knock on your window.

It's Jules-Albert, holding a bag of McDonalds with your favorite foods and drink. It also has a note.

"Just think about what you said with a full stomach. You do stupid shit when you're hungry."

You don't know if you should be offended or laugh.

Still in your pajamas, you run to the Hades cabin and knock on his door. No one answers.

You do feel a pair of arms around your waist and cold nose nuzzling your neck.

You turn your head to kiss Nico's cheek as he leans more into you. He then whispers in your ear-

"I love you, tesoro mio. Don't scare me like that again."

Gods, you didn't have the heart to tell him it was a prank.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson headcanons #percy jackson imagine #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus headcanons #heroes of olympus imagine #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace headcanons #nico di angelo #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo headcanons #break up prank #riordanverse

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katakaluptastrophy · 6 months

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One thing that has me gnawing on the metaphorical drywall is that Abigail Pent apparently never learned just how awful Jod is.

There she is, in the River, murdered by one of god's fingers and gestures, having been invited to the First so that she could kill her husband and eat his soul and...she's triggering Harrow by exclaiming that "The King Over the River is good!" when she learns some people survived.

Having worked out that there is something fundamentally, practically, metaphysically wrong with the River she...just assumes poor old god doesn't know and could do with some Cliff Notes.

And then there's the battle with the Sleeper. She's hiding from a mad, gun-wielding ghost, her husband shot in the stomach on the other side of the room, and her carefully planned exorcism in pieces, and Ortus begins to recite the Noniad. And realising the impossible thing he wants her to do, Abigail - who pages earlier expressed her doubts about god's omnipotence, prays: “Oh, God... God, please help me” (which makes her the only character who isn't a literal priest or member of a religious order who we see praying).

When she describes her childhood bedroom to Harrow, everything she mentions sounds like something of significance to her: her grandfather's bones, her desk, the bed where her brother sometimes slept, and "a pretty chroma of the Prince Undying, but a little cockeyed." (think mass produced 1950s Sacred Heart picture and you're probably not far off...)

Despite having formative memories of having weird devotional art in her bedroom, Abigail is miles away from that other enjoyed of Jod pictures in their living space, Silas Octakiseron. She's open about her heterodox views, and clearly has the knowledge to back them up (including, it should be noted, at least one degree taken on the Eighth). And she clearly has form with going off on a heterodox tangent, as Magnus seems to have a well-rehearsed pattern for bringing her back to an acceptable line. And while she's happy to acknowledge that her views aren't orthodox, she's not being pointlessly controversial: she doesn't mind being a heretic, but she's rather upset by the idea that Marta might think her a mad one.

Marta, meanwhile, is one of several characters who show us that Abigail's intensity isn't just the result of living in a theocracy: “No. The Second House doesn’t overthink the River...If we did we’d just have to fill in forms.” Meanwhile, Ianthe is clearly thinking about dogma with an eye less to worship than replication.

And maybe it's because I know a lot of people who are devout but heterodox, and in relationships only tenuously accepted in their tradition (or only in their specific bit of the tradition)...but I just have a lot of feelings about Abigail here. Someone who's willing to be frank and informed about the complexities inherent in her belief system, but who seems to be committed to her faith. She seems so willing to think the best of Jod, to pray to him even when she's intellectually aware it may not be quite that straightforward and...he doesn't give a shit. He isn't god. He's a stupid little man who looks down on the humanities and I wish Abigail Pent got the chance to say something devastating to him.

#the locked tomb #tlt #tlt meta #abigail pent #john gaius #harrow the ninth #Let Abigail Pent emerge from the River and hit Jod with a steel chair I am begging you Tamsyn #Obviously as a queer anglican with a history degree my feelings about Abigail here are entirely intellectual...

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beom-pyu · 10 months

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i can't swim, idiot ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu

choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags: best friends to lovers au , beomgyu is annoying(ly cute) , fake dating? nah... fake married? bingo! , reader is so fed up with beomgyu how is he still alive , fluff , black cat x golden retriever dynamic ??? , hinted bisexual!beomgyu happy pride month , hinted pining , nsfw , some cliche moments bc who doesn't love a good cliche

warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is referred to as a wife and "mrs" , cursing , playfully (?) threatening each other's lives , soft dom!beomgyu , sub!reader , pool sex , unprotected sex , marking , praise , creampie , cum eating , morning sex <3 , cunninglus (fem receiving) , overstimulation , dry humping , big dick gyu community please gather

a/n: another summer fic for you lovelies!! <3 i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i had fun writing it! (not edited yet!)

song recs: island - youha, spotless mind - jhene aiko, nature feels - frank ocean

wc: 10.7k+

[I THINK WE JUST GOT SCAMMED.]

“wait, wait, wait. you did what?”

you slowly lower your lukewarm cup onto the cafe table before taking out your airpods—no music is playing, but you want to be 100% sure you heard him right. your best friend shoots you a lopsided grin from across the table, stirring his drink with the chewed straw in between his fingers.

“i entered us into an exclusive giveaway for married couples to win a trip to greece for a week?”

one by one, you can feel your brain cells begin to die off at his words, your eye twitching while beomgyu smiles innocently at you.

“beomgyu, i’m going to ask you a simple question and i want a simple answer.” pinching the bridge of your nose, you inhale for a second before meeting his eyes with the most exasperated gaze you've ever worn in your life. “why?”

the brown-haired boy is all too quick with a reply.

“why not?” beomgyu shrugs, his tiny grin morphing into something menacing on his lips—as if this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in all of his 22 years of life.

you have the sudden passing thought to throw your coffee at his face, but that’s a precious $6 you’d never get back, so you refrain from doing so. instead, you take a slow, deep breath and momentarily close your eyes. “god, if you’re out there, please, please give me patience.”

“i’m pretty sure the phrase is ‘god give me strength’,” beomgyu retorts from his seat across from you, sipping annoyingly on his nearly empty caramel frappe.

you blink at him once, twice. “if god gave me strength, you’d be in a casket right now.”

beomgyu simply cackles at your response, feigning a scared face with his hands up like he’s being held at gunpoint before he continues to laugh at his own mockery. you kick him under the table, successfully wiping that wide smile off of his dumb face.

“what was that for?” beomgyu whines with a pout, reaching down to rub his shin. a few heads turn to see what the ruckus is about and you shoot them a polite, apologetic smile and bow before turning back to mr. drama queen. the kick wasn’t even that hard.

“did you even think about what would happen if we actually won? we don’t have the time nor the money for a resort in greece.”

“oh, calm down, y/n. you know no one ever actually wins those things, right? they’re all scams.” beomgyu waves you off with his hand before bringing the green straw back up to his lips, your ears bleeding at the sound of his obnoxious slurping. you can’t stand his face.

“and how are you so sure of that?”

“because i entered that nickelodeon giveaway thing when i was 11 and never heard back from them.”

you blink at him again, thrice this time—just in case you’ve been transported into a different dimension and a stupidity demon has possessed your best friend’s body. nonetheless, beomgyu is still grinning idiotically as he chews on his straw, tilting his head at you like a maltese.

“please be so serious right now.”

“i am! plus, even if we do win—which we won’t—and it’s not a scam… shit, that’s a free trip to greece!”

the joy on his face boils your blood to no end. he’s truly dense; you can’t believe you’re insane enough to call him your other half. everything on earth must be balanced out, you suppose—the yin to your yang.

“have you considered the fact that we aren’t married?” you cock your head at him, hands folded on top of the table, speaking slowly as if you’re talking to a child… hold on, wait—you literally are.

“shoot—could’ve fooled me!” beomgyu lets out a puff of laughter. “we might as well be.”

you blink at him again.

“please don’t ever say that again. i think i just threw up in my mouth.”

beomgyu rolls his eyes before snatching his phone out of his pocket with the speed of light to show you the flier he had screenshotted. he shoves the phone in your face, tapping incessantly at the bottom text of the photo.

“look. it says all expenses paid.”

you stare at him with a silent ‘so what?’ and beomgyu sighs dramatically as he lowers his phone. he has the nerve to be exasperated with you? you’ll never understand where men get the pure audacity.

“so you’re going to look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t pretend to be my wife for a few days so we can get a free trip to greece?”

you look him straight in the eye. “beomgyu, i’d rather be burned on a stake.”

“yea, 'cause you’re a fucking witch,” he mumbles under his breath, trying to hold in his laughter. you don’t know how much more patience you have with him, so you simply exhale, checking the clock on your phone.

“i don’t have time for this—i gotta get to my lecture,” you huff out, standing as you grab your bag that sits by your feet. beomgyu pitifully whines, looking up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes known to man.

“would you seriously not do it?”

it’s now your turn to laugh, picking up your coffee to take a big sip. you’re gonna need the caffeine.

“those things are scams, gyu—you said it yourself! see you later.”

☆

nights are oh, so serene, you think, as your head hits your fluffy pillow later that night. you’re freshly showered and tucked under your covers, snug as a bug in a rug as you doze off to the lovely scent of your hibiscus air freshener and the quiet waves of your sleep sounds machine. there’s no need to count sheep—you’re completely drained from all of the walking you had to do today. all of your classes just so happen to be on opposite sides of the campus, and you’re sure your step counter is on the verge of exploding by now.

your mattress feels even comfier today, a slight breeze coming through your cracked window, balancing out the heat from your thick duvet. it takes no time at all for you to be tugged under by the lust of sleep, drifting off to a perfect dreamland full of bright colors and open fields and your blaring ringtone.

wait.

your ringtone?

you don’t even bother to open your eyes, patting around your bed for your phone before you feel the cool screen against your fingertips. it takes a few failed swipes to actually answer, mumbling out a half-asleep “hello?” as you lazily press the device to your ear.

“hi, my wonderful bff. my world, my girl, my bro, my home-shizzle! hypothetically, on a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if i told you that the greece trip thing wasn’t a scam? and that we won? and that we leave in 2 days? hypothetically.”

the silence is incredibly loud.

…

“eleven.”

[NEWLYWEDS.]

three months ago, if you were to tell yourself that you would be adorning a fake amazon wedding ring with your best friend’s arm wrapped around your waist as you stand inside some modern insurance firm being interviewed as a newlywed couple—well, you probably would’ve admitted yourself into the nearest asylum.

you don’t know what choices from your past led you to this moment, forcing a smile as a middle-aged woman with the cleanest-cut bob you’ve ever seen enthusiastically shakes your hand before moving on to beomgyu’s. he seems completely unfazed and the thought alone irks your soul to no end.

truthfully, this is all your fault. if you would’ve just told beomgyu that you are not going to pretend to be his wife for a week, you would’ve never ended up in this situation in the first place. but can anyone blame you when he offered to pay for your coffee every single day for the next 6 months, and wash your car, and take out your trash for as long as you ask him to?

right! any sane person would’ve said yes, too!

so here you are as mrs. choi (gag), laughing along as the lady cracks a few jokes, complimenting beomgyu’s silky hair and your bright smile before sighing dreamily.

“my goodness, aren’t you two just the cutest newlyweds i’ve ever seen! how many months has it been?”

beomgyu looks down at you with a soft smile; anyone who is meeting him for the first time would’ve taken the gaze as something filled with pure adoration and undiluted love… but you know him. you see the way his eyes sparkle with mischief, the annoying quirk of his playful grin, and the pure amusement that washes over his features at your subtle glare.

he’s having way too much fun with this.

you pinch his side hard, a small bout of victory washing over you as he flinches.

deserved.

“we’re coming up on three months now?” beomgyu speaks through slightly gritted teeth before looking back up at the short woman, sending a charming smile her way. she squeals, bouncing on her heels and you bite back a grimace at the sheer volume.

“we decided to travel a bit before settling down and buying a home here in seoul,” you speak robotically, following the exact script you both came up with in your notes app on facetime last night. beomgyu hums in affirmation, tapping your side in a silent “good job”.

“awe! how sweet is that? what a wonderful idea to travel together while you're still young and nimble, unlike this old lady right here.” the lady honks out a laugh as she points to herself with her thumbs. you glance over at beomgyu who seems to be having the time of his life and—the regret of saying yes quickly settles deep in your bones. “you pair are such a lovely and beautiful couple!”

her high-pitched and overly enthusiastic voice pierces your ears and you can already feel the headache coming on.

“well, what can i say? it was love at first sight. i knew i had to make her mine and see the world with her as soon as possible,” beomgyu smoothly recites, gazing back down at you with the same look as before. you feel the bile rise in your throat. the words are so foreign to your ears, it’s almost jarring. the lady doesn’t even notice your discomfort and continues on and on about how cute you both are, how you remind her of her niece, and how beomgyu should totally be a model.

you force the fakest smile ever as beomgyu pinches your side, a cue for you to speak up. resisting the urge to punch him for pinching you (even though you had done it first), you simply nod along with an artificial laugh, your hand coming up to rest on his chest in faux infatuation.

ew.

“marrying beomgyu was the best decision i’ve ever made. i’ve never been happier.”

you swear you feel your eye twitch as the lady coos—she claps her hands excitedly, her short bob bouncing with the movement.

“how heartwarming! i’m sure this trip will bring you even closer, shedding a new light on the glitter of your love for decades to come!”

you and beomgyu are silent for a beat—because what the fuck is she even saying?—before awkwardly laughing, nodding along in hopes that she’ll wrap this up quickly. the lady’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as a stiffness fills the air, clapping her hands again as he ushers you two towards the lyft.

“better get a move on so you don’t miss your flight! i hope you have a wonderful time, lovebirds! and congratulations once again!”

the car is absolutely silent as you both settle in after all of your luggage is loaded up. beomgyu has this annoying, close-lipped smile on his face, his lips pursed like a duck—he’s so obviously trying to hold in his laughter as you grumble under your breath, snatching that stupid plastic ring off of your finger.

you glance at him before rolling your eyes. “go ahead.”

in the blink of an eye, his boisterous laughter fills the car, high and squeaky, and you silently empathize with the lyft driver who subtly turns the radio up to combat the intrusive noise. beomgyu’s doubled over, patting his leg as he gasps for air, eyes squeezed shut; and as much as you hate to admit it, your own lips quirk up into a small smile at the sound. curse your best friend and his contagious laughter.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” beomgyu heaves out before another round of giggles leaves his lips. he reaches up to push his hair out of his face before wiping at his eyes dramatically.

“i didn’t think i had it in me,” you agree, giving in to the grin that slowly spreads across your face. you make the horrible decision of meeting beomgyu’s eyes, and it takes less than a millisecond for you both to aggressively burst out laughing, bodies falling against each other's as your limbs grow weak.

“no, that was the funniest shit ever, i swear. we sold it.”

“for a second, i actually thought you were really in love with me.” your laughter slowly dies down as beomgyu lifts himself off of you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath. you’re sure you don’t look any better—you definitely have abs after all of that.

“i just had to pretend that you were i.u,” beomgyu admits with an overexaggerated dreamy look off into the distance. you’re quick to fall into another fit of laughter but for a different reason this time.

“i.u doesn’t date freaks.”

beomgyu’s lips dramatically pout as he crosses his arms over his chest like a little kid, scoffing at your comment. “why do you always have to crush my dreams?”

“i don’t always crush your dreams. only when they’re stupid.”

“so… always?”

“no—yes.”

beomgyu’s quiet for a moment, turning his head to look out the window. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, but the expression quickly smooths out as he turns towards you, uncrossing his arms to play with the fake ring on his finger.

“i’m not taking the couch.”

“what?”

“it’s a couple’s suite. i’m taking the bed since i’m the one who entered us in the first place.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes again—your mother had told you that one day your eyeballs would get stuck in the back of your head, and right now, that idea didn’t seem so bad. beomgyu’s teasing smile is anger-inducing, and you think you might rip it off if you have to look at it any longer.

“what happened to chivalry? i’m your wife now, so as the man, you have to give me the bed.”

“fuck chivalry! you’re mean to me. i owe you nothing,” beomgyu huffs, squinting his eyes at you.

“i’m not mean to you,” you immediately defend, hitting his arm for even making such heinous accusations. beomgyu gasps, reaching up to hold his arm where you made impact.

“see? mean!” once again, the dramatics are almost admirable—there’s no way that hurt. he’s been hitting the gym with his roommate taehyun lately, and you’ve seen the way he’s bulked up from the scrawny shrimp boy he used to be in high school. if anything, the hit hurt you!

“let’s play rock paper scissors, then. two out of three gets the bed.”

beomgyu huffs, but obediently holds up his fist. “fine.”

three games pass by in a blur.

“you cheated!” he whines, pointing his finger at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“how did i cheat? just admit you suck ass, mr. couch.” your triumphant smile results in another whine from the loser next to you, putting his fist back up for a rematch. “no, i already won!”

“you’re lucky i love you.” beomgyu’s quick to give up, a tiny smile appearing on his face at the way you pretend to gag at his words.

those butterflies in your stomach are only because you skipped breakfast that morning—totally not because of the soft gaze he sends your way, mindlessly playing with the plastic ring on his finger as you two fall into a comfortable silence. totally.

☆

this sucks.

today is the first time you’ve ever ridden in first class, and you can’t even enjoy it because of the exhaustion running rampant through your veins. there’s a reason why you picked all afternoon and late night lectures; why you avoid any invitations to go out for breakfast with your friends; and why you have blackout curtains on all of your windows. you are not a morning person, whatsoever, and with that 8 a.m interview and your flight at 10 on the dot, you’re absolutely beat.

for starters, pretending to actually be in love with your best friend in front of a lady who cannot speak at a normal, human volume is more taxing than swimming from portugal to australia with no breaks. you swear. second, beomgyu has apparently never ridden an airplane before and therefore has no idea what airport etiquette is.

(“you have to put all of your electronics in the bins, okay?”

“when i go through the x-ray thing, will they see my underwear? oh my god, no, will they see my dick?”

“no, they won’t see your dick, beomgyu.”

“but how do you know they won’t see my dick? sick fucks.”

“they’re literally doing their job, beomgyu.”

“they can do their job without looking at my dick!”

“they aren’t going to see your dick!”

the lady in front of you covers her kid's ears as she shoots you two the nastiest glare you’ve ever seen. you both bow in apology before you flick beomgyu on the back of his neck.)

you can barely keep your eyes open as you watch some marvel movie on the little screen in front of you, fighting to at least stay awake long enough to order dinner. it’s futile, though, because you’re already blacking out every few minutes, head lulling side to side like a bobblehead.

you finally give up the battle, reminding yourself that there will be endless food at the resort, so you settle yourself into your plush seat, resting your cheek against your neck pillow. from this angle, you have a perfect view of beomgyu who’s in the secluded seat next to you, and—oh.

he looks… he looks softer than usual, only illuminated by the natural light emerging through the circular windows. his hair is slightly mussed from his fingers, his long fringe hanging over his eyes in such a way that he has to keep shaking it out of his vision. he has his earbuds in, watching the sky through the tiny window next to him with his bottom lip in between his teeth—a habit he’s had since he was young. you know he’s thinking, lost in his mind abyss by the way his fingers fidget with the end of his shirt, his leg shaking incessantly.

“hey, gyu,” you call out quietly so as to not disturb anyone else around you. his music must’ve been turned down low, seeing as his eyes find yours at the call of his name, taking an earbud out to hear you better. “you okay?”

if there’s one thing you know about your best friend, it’s when he’s nervous. it shows with the way his leg doesn’t stop moving, even as he nods out a yes in reply to your question, seeing his jaw move as he grinds his teeth together.

“the plane keeps shaking,” he whispers, eyes wide and worried as a little bit of turbulence rocks the cabin right after he finishes speaking. even in your tired state, you can’t help but laugh softly at his animated expression, shaking your head.

“are you scared?” the teasing tone in your voice is apparent—beomgyu rapidly shakes his head in disagreement, but you see right through him as his hand grips the armrest, eyebrows knitted together. everything in your nature tells you to tease him, rile him up a bit, poke fun at him—but he genuinely looks concerned, and you’re too tired to come up with anything witty to say. instead…

“it’s just turbulence. you’re okay, gyu.”

you watch the way beomgyu relaxes ever so slightly, nodding his head as his grip loosens. you send him a little smile, not bothering to wait for him to smile back before turning your head the other way, finally letting sleep pull you under.

[FREE MARGARITAS.]

you don’t get a single moment to look around the resort because as soon as you both lug all of your things into your suite, you’re told a romantic, candle-lit dinner on the beach just down the hill has been reserved for you two as a welcome gift by the company. you’re not complaining of course, but you still would’ve liked to at least get acquainted with the area before indulging in everything.

it takes you an hour and a half to get ready; partially because beomgyu’s showers take forever. he’s in there singing along to some random 70s hits playlist, having the time of his life, while you take the time to look around the suite.

it’s huge, to say the least. a single pod building that sits on a hill full of others alike with pristine white walls and elegant decoration—it’s almost 3 times bigger than your own apartment and you can only imagine how much all of this would’ve cost. wide, open windows line the walls with marbled tile underneath your feet, the furniture ranging from white to beige to a palette of blues, mimicking the colors of the beach in the distance.

outside is a wide patio with a glistening pool and comfy lounge area, complete with a loveseat and a swing. it has the perfect view of the coast, the sun already lowering behind the horizon. it’s absolutely breathtaking, and you make sure to take plenty of pictures, even posting a few on your instagram story (without tagging beomgyu, because you’re pissed at how long he’s taking in the bathroom.)

by the time he comes out, his hair is blow-dried and pushed out of his face with a headband. he looks like casper the friendly ghost with the white facemask he adorns and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

you force yourself to dismiss the way he only has a towel wrapped around his waist, chest completely bare as he strides over to his suitcase—he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence as he pulls out the most formal thing he can find, dropping it onto the bed.

“you gonna shower or what?” he asks over his annoyingly broad shoulder, hands reaching down to undo the towel around his waist. a yelp leaves your lips at the sudden movement, covering your eyes as you rush towards the bathroom.

“you’re disgusting!” you yell before slamming the door shut, locking it for good measure. his cackles ring throughout the suite and you flick him off from behind the wall—he can’t see it, but you want to at least get it out of your system.

halfway through your shower, you realize you forgot to bring your clothes into the bathroom to change. you blame this all on beomgyu—half because somehow every inconvenience in your life is all his fault and half because you just want a reason to ignore the way you keep thinking about how toned he’s gotten recently. you mentally make it your mission to shut down every single gym in his vicinity.

you wrap your towel tight around your body before cracking the door open, the cool air from the a/c attacking your skin like icicles. poking your head out, you scan the room for any sign of your counterpart, but the room seems to be completely empty. you wait a few seconds, just in case he decides to make any unannounced appearances before deeming the room safe enough to enter. the coast is clear.

you rush over to your suite case, unzipping it to find an appropriate dress, deciding on a white one to match the white button-up beomgyu had pulled out. you grab your makeup bag, as well as your perfume and it isn’t until you stand back up to find refuge in the bathroom that you notice the figure in the doorway. you jump in surprise, a small scream escaping your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself defensively.

“you fucking stalker,” you huff as he doubles over in laughter.

“oh my god, you should’ve seen your face,” he gasps, holding his hand to his stomach as his entire body vibrates with cackles. despite the venomous glare you send his way, your eyes can’t help but catch onto the fact that beomgyu cleans up nicely.

you’ve gotten so used to beomgyu’s endless collection of sweatpants and hoodies that the thought of him looking like an a-list celebrity never once crossed your mind. the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest, appropriately decorated with a few layered necklaces. it seems like he decided to trade out his usual dangly earrings and ear piercings for simple studs that shine when the chandelier above you hits them.

those black dress pants hug his legs in a way that makes you swallow, feeling your body grow warm at the way he tucks his hands into his pockets. he cocks his head at you curiously, a jesting smile on his lips—he looks infuriatingly good, to the point where you have to physically rip your eyes away from him.

“like what you see?” he badgers while he strolls into the room, as if he can see right through your little facade. you scoff, holding your stuff tight to your chest as you flee towards the bathroom again.

“what happened to privacy?” you make sure to completely ignore his previous question—he can tell all too easily when you’re lying, and you really don’t feel like being teased relentlessly tonight.

“what’s the issue? you’re my wife now, aren’t you?” his voice is provoking, playful as you burn through him with another intense glare.

“beomgyu, i promise you, i will drown you in that pool if you say another word.” and then you happily slam the door shut in his face.

“no, you won’t! you love me too much,” he singsongs from behind the door. all you can do is roll your eyes because—yes. yes, you do.

☆

you don’t think you’ve ever seen beomgyu act so… gentlemanly ever since he tried to get his 6th grade crush to like him back—but this time, without the weird phrases he stole from western movies and the electric blue braces that lined his teeth.

he’s committed to this husband act; pulling your chair out for you and pushing you in after you take a seat, kissing the back of your hand (you kicked him under the table at that), and even telling you that you look, and you quote, “absolutely stunning, baby.”

you hope your discontentment isn’t showing too obviously through your forced smiles and giggles, that plastic wedding band around your ring finger uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

you can’t deny the fact that the dinner is really nice, though. never in your life would you have thought you’d be drinking expensive wines and eating 5-star cuisine on a beach with your childhood best friend—you’re pretty sure 14-year-old y/n would’ve complained about how it should’ve been choi soobin from 4th period instead of beomgyu, but you’ll take what you can get.

in all honesty, it simply feels like a normal dinner out with your best friend. you both still laugh and joke as usual, reminiscing on the time when beomgyu forgot to take out his retainer before his band performed at the school festival in 10th grade, resulting in a slurred rendition of sk8er boi by avril lavigne and a crowd full of giggling onlookers. (if you had to threaten a few people to leave beomgyu alone about it afterward, then so be it.)

the thing is, it’s not hard to let go around beomgyu. you’ve known each other since you were in diapers; defending beomgyu from bullies in elementary, attending all of his self-made band’s concerts, and hanging out on your rooftop eating popsicles and gummy worms. you could complain all you’d like about his teasing, his constant, exuberated nature, and his inane questions, but there’s no one else that you’d put your life on the line for, other than the puppy-like man in front of you.

his eyes sparkle with the reflection of the candlelight as he rambles on about how he genuinely thought planes did a loopty-loop before taking off and your heart aches with a sort of warmth you’ve been trying to dismiss for so long.

the dinner ends all too quickly, and by the time you down your last glass, you realize you’re slightly tipsy. you’ve always been a lightweight, but you really didn’t think you drank that much—you must’ve been too distracted by beomgyu’s crazy stories to acknowledge the waiter constantly filling your glass after every few sips. at least it was free.

you slightly wobble on your heels as you take a stand in the sand, a little noise of surprise leaving your lips as a warm hand meets your hip, swiftly steadying you. you look down and automatically recognize the amazon ring, your head turning to meet beomgyu’s gentle eyes.

“don’t tell me i have to carry you all the way back.” and even though it’s a joke, there’s a layer of genuineness in his tone as you stumble again.

“‘m not that drunk,” you reply with the slightest of slurs, quietly giggling at the simple image of beomgyu carrying you bridal style to the bed. now that would truly sell the act, for sure. beomgyu shakes his head with a small smile, but his hand doesn’t leave your waist as he guides you back towards the suite, his touch firm and sturdy.

you’re almost across the beach when you stumble again, but this time, your heel actually gives out as you trip, a tiny yelp leaving your lips right before you hit the ground. you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact—but it never comes.

“yep. i’m carrying you.”

you crack an eye open to see beomgyu with an amused smile on his face, both of his hands holding onto your hips. turns out you weren’t even close to hitting the ground at all… okay, maybe you are drunk.

“piggy back ride?” you ask with a little giggle. you’re reminded of that time beomgyu had to give you a piggyback ride all the way back home from the park after you sprained your ankle trying to do a backflip off of the swing in elementary school. what a time.

beomgyu rolls his eyes fondly, but gives you a little nod, letting go of your waist to kneel down by your feet. “give me your foot.”

you give him a quizzical look, cocking your head at him in pure confusion before he pats his thigh, motioning towards your leg. still a bit out of it, you hold onto his shoulder as you lift your foot, feeling a weird sensation rush up your spine at the way he gently holds onto your calf to slip your heel off of your foot. he does the same to the other without a word, completely unfazed by the way your mouth remains slightly ajar in shock. his fingers are gentle and soothing against your skin, despite being mildly calloused from his guitar back home.

it’s enough to throw you off, swallowing as his eyes meet yours again. his eyes are incredibly soft as he smiles up at you—he motions towards his back with a quiet “hop on”.

you obey, only faltering slightly as your arms sling around his shoulders. with the new proximity, you can smell his cologne, something sweet and woodsy. his hands grab onto your thighs—one decorated with high heels hanging off two of his fingers—before hiking you up a bit. he begins walking, saying something about how he thinks there’s 10 tons of sand in his shoes by now—and if he notices you’re too distracted by his hands on your legs to process what he’s saying, he doesn’t mention it.

☆

the view is absolutely breathtaking through the glass tall windows of your suite, the rays bouncing off of the pool as you watch beomgyu wade in the water, his eyes shut. it’s weird seeing him like this—fully relaxed, calm, and still.

it seems like ever since you met beomgyu, all chubby-cheeked and busy-bodied, he’s always been on the move. whether it be to sprint down the road to meet you at the corner so you can walk to school together, or high in the air as he jumps on your trampoline… and even when his body is physically still, his mouth still runs a mile a minute, talking about anything and everything in the entire universe, letting his thoughts run wild around you.

as much as you truly do adore his silly side, him being the main reason why you were able to break out of your shell in the first place, you can’t help but be slightly fascinated with this alternate side of him.

it’s morning now; the yellowish-white hue of the blinding sun bounces off of his skin as he soaks up the moment, his brown hair getting so long it falls down the back of his neck in soft layers. you feel like a creep, watching him like this, but something about the entire atmosphere makes your eyes unable to look away as you slowly sip on the complimentary margaritas.

your best friend has always been attractive—that’s one thing you cannot deny. he’s had his fair share of flings, and partners (and even a throuple once) throughout the years while you’ve only endured a few situationships here and there. he’s been called handsome his entire childhood and well into his adult years, taking the compliment in stride. he never let it get to his head or fuel his ego, though; for some reason, that fact makes him even more appealing.

he’s always just been your best friend, and you both are incredibly okay with that label—you know each other best, and that’s all that really matters. never mind the way his eyelashes flutter like monarch butterflies, or the way his cheeks flush when it’s too cold outside, or the way his leg bounces when he’s excited or nervous, alike. you try to ignore the way his laughter always manages to make the sun come out, and the way he always orders for you at restaurants because he knows you aren’t a fan of talking to strangers, and the way he seems always to know what you need, right when you need it.

he’s truly the yin to your yang. but there’s something else bubbling under the surface that you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to acknowledge yet.

a loud call of your name grabs your attention, your vision focusing on a grinning beomgyu waving you down from the edge of the pool. you don’t even have it in you to huff at the prospect of moving from your comfortable lounge chair, standing up to make your way to the large patio. sliding the door open, you poke your head out, immediately feeling the muggy air of midday wrap around you like a heated blanket.

“get in with me! the water is super warm,” he calls, motioning you towards him with his arm, the action flicking water everywhere. you frown a bit, looking at the pool behind him before meeting his eager eyes again.

“you know i can’t swim, idiot.”

beomgyu’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as he shrugs, holding his hand out.

“then i’ll do the swimming for you.”

the offer is so light-hearted and casual—it shouldn’t make your heart lunge in your chest, your gut twisting with anticipation at the simple implications of his words.

you’re already in your bathing suit from the mirror selfies you took for simply the aesthetic—a simple blue bikini tied tightly around your frame. you really don’t want to waste your time here; when else will you get the chance to stay in greece for free with your best friend?

so you let your feet carry you to the stairs of the pool, your fingers wrapping around the metal railing as you slowly step in, foot by foot. by the time you’ve made it waist deep, you begin to feel the fear creep into your bones.

“i won’t let you drown, y/n,” beomgyu laughs as you suspiciously eye the deep end of the pool, unable to even see the bottom of it. your hand tightly grips the rail as beomgyu wades his way toward you, holding his hand out for you to take. “i promise. just hold on to me.”

you nibble on your lip as your eyes flicker down to his hand, feeling the water move gently around you. drowning has always been one of your biggest fears, and because of that, you’ve always stayed far away from any body of water capable of swallowing you up whole.

but beomgyu’s eyes are warmer than the water, the most delicate of smiles resting on his soft features. there’s no room to be scared—not with the way his hand is so grounding as you take hold of it, squealing a bit as he tugs you closer.

“do you trust me?” and when he speaks, his voice is just barely above a whisper, his face so close to yours that you can individually count his eyelashes. his margarita-tinted breath fans over your lips and you find yourself unable to cringe away, nodding cautiously in response.

your hands tightly grasp his shoulders as he wraps a strong arm around your waist, holding you close to him as he uses his other arm to swim deeper into the pool. his doesn’t let up, even slightly, his grip sturdy around your figure as he utilizes one arm to keep you both afloat.

“here, wrap your legs around me,” he speaks, tapping your thigh under the water. you’re sure your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline, your mouth bobbing open and shut like a fish out of water.

“wha… huh?” you question oh, so eloquently, the rumble of beomgyu’s laughter transferring against your skin. his nose crinkles up in the way it always does when he finds something to be a bit too entertaining, his eyes forming those pretty crescent moons as his eyelashes tickle his cheeks.

“it’ll make this easier. i’m not trying to carry a dead weight,” beomgyu speaks as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. you’re still dumbfounded, blinking at him blankly—so he decides to take matters into his own hands, reaching down to situate you against him by himself. “there, that’s better.”

a persistent heat surges through your stomach as your brain slowly registers the position. beomgyu’s arm tightens around your waist as you adjust your hips in a way that makes your clothed core brush against his bulge. you almost see the way his eyes darken, his tongue peeking out to swipe over his bottom lip. it’s quiet, still as the distant sound of the beach’s waves and the gentle trickle of water fills in the silence.

your arms slowly come up to wrap around his neck—you don’t know what possesses you; some weird entity that makes beomgyu’s lips look all too kissable, and his eyes sickeningly alluring. his adam’s apple bobs as his eyes flicker across your face. you don’t register the way he slowly wades you both toward the wall of the pool, effectively caging you in as your back gently presses against the tile.

you have the chance to run, to push him off of you, and go back inside—to pretend your core doesn’t pulse with want as he presses his entire body against you. his chest is warm and his eyes are blown out, and you can say no.

but you don’t want to.

his eyes search yours for something before they trail down to your lips, his hips meeting yours in a way that renders you slightly dizzy with the proximity.

“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop, right now,” he whispers, his fingers leaving a ticklish feeling against your exposed skin under the water. you swallow.

“i want this, please.” and his lips are on yours before you can take another breath.

it’s nothing gentle; as if he’s been starved for your taste for all of eternity. the kiss is bruising as he nibbles on your bottom lip, his tongue meeting yours as you gasp into his mouth. he takes control easily, his hips moving against yours as the water moves around you, the sound mixing in with your quiet moans and beomgyu’s sparse grunts.

he swallows all of your sounds, holding you down against him as he bucks up into your core, his dick hard and heavy in between your legs. you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist as you match his movement to the best of your ability. you’re nearly unable to think straight as he kisses the oxygen out of you, your mind growing hazy as pleasure shoots up your spine when he rubs against your clit just right.

beomgyu breaks the kiss to dive into your neck, sucking and biting small marks onto your unblemished skin before kissing over the soon-to-be marks. he can’t keep his mouth off of you as he trails his lips under your jaw, over your clavicle, nipping at your cleavage. your own voice sounds foreign in your ears as every lick and bite shoots straight to your core, feeling that knot in your gut tightens with every thrust.

“think you can cum just like this, hm? just from humping my cock?” beomgyu pants against your skin as his lips brush over your cheek, his breath fanning your ears. the head of beomgyu’s clothed dick catches onto your slit for the slightest of seconds, and you have to clench all of the muscles in your body to not cum on the spot.

“ye—yes, please don’t stop,” you whine, tilting your head back to invite his lips back to your neck. you’re sure you’re leaving marks on beomgyu’s shoulder blades from how hard your nails dig into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, it makes his hips work faster against yours, pressing you full-on against the pool walls.

“so good for me, fuck.”

beomgyu kisses up your neck, a low groan leaving his lips at the way you’re bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat, clawing at his skin as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“gyu, ‘m—can i cum? please, please, please.” you can’t hold on anymore—not with the way beomgyu laughs against your skin, his free hand reaching up to grab your chin, forcing your lips against his again. he licks into your mouth with fervor, your teeth clashing together. your spit-slicked lips slide against each other, wet and messy, and he finally decides to take pity on you.

“go ahead, cum for me, baby.”

your brain goes blank as you finally come undone, blindly sinking into beomgyu’s lips and his faltering thrusts. your entire body tenses up as you moan against his lips, feeling like a ragdoll in the way he leaves soft kisses against your lax mouth. a low, rumbling groan emits from his chest as his hips still, twitching against yours subtly. he exhales once he finally pulls away from your swollen lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

it takes a second for you both to catch your breaths and when you finally blink your eyes open, beomgyu’s puppy-like eyes are already on yours.

“you okay?” his voice oozes with a type of concern; care that feels all too intimate. his pupils are blown wide, alluring and deep as they scan your face. you nod with a small sigh, leaning forward to drop your head onto his shoulder. you feel his torso shake with a chuckle at the action, feeling an unnamed emotion run through your chest.

you don’t pay any mind to it, though. not while you're ruminating in a cum-contaminated body of water.

“we should probably call someone to clean the pool.” and the laughter that bubbles out of beomgyu’s mouth is enough to distract you, just for a moment.

[I DO.]

it’s a weird, strange domestic feeling waking up to a fluffy head of brown hair resting on your shoulder, caged in by gentle arms around your waist. beomgyu’s always been a cuddler, and a week ago, you would’ve cringed at the simple thought of indulging him.

but now, a warm feeling blooms in your chest like a hydrangea as your fingers slip into his mussed hair to play with the strands. you’ve been cowed by your emotions, unable to fight off the fond smile that climbs onto your lips at the sight of the teddy bear-esque man clinging to you in his sleep.

you don’t know what to do with all of these butterflies swarming in your chest, flapping against each other, kicking up a sandstorm of admiration that runs wild through your veins. he’s your best friend—and at this point in time, you know he’s more than that.

it’s crazy to think that romantic feelings can accumulate overnight, and you’re starting to suspect that maybe these feelings have existed all along. he’s the only one capable of rendering you speechless, whether it be from the crazy things he says or the way his eyes sparkle with a sense of youthfulness that tethers you two together. he’s the only one who can make you feel so carefree and in the moment—you don’t worry about the future or what’s to come with beomgyu. you simply enjoy the now, soaking up his blinding smiles and outlandish stories.

he’s waking up, you realize, as he mumbles under his breath, nuzzling closer to you. his lips brush your neck, his hair tickling your cheek in a way that makes your nose scrunch up with a small giggle. you feel drunk despite the fact that all of the alcohol has long dispersed in your body overnight—you blame it all on the fact that the sun sits high in the sky, shining kindly through the wide, open windows. it lights beomgyu up in a way that squeezes your heart painfully, the white sheets strewn across his waist making him look so soft and gentle.

“good morning,” you mumble with a tiny smile as beomgyu begins littering faint kisses against the expanse of your neck, brushing over the previous marks he’d left there yesterday. he simply hums in response, his arms loosening from around your waist to trail up the side of your body—his touch is so delicate, you let yourself get lost in the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he softly nips at your skin.

he situates himself so that he’s hovering over you and you open your eyes again, feeling the sudden urge to shy away from his gaze. you’ve never seen such a look in his eyes—something so heavy and raw. as if he’s prying you apart and putting you back together again. it makes a shiver run up your spine.

“good morning, beautiful,” he finally replies and you can’t help but giggle again—you feel like a teenager, the way your stomach flutters at his morning voice, all deep and raspy and sultry. his brown eyes are half-lidded from sleep, his skin warm as his fingers brush your cheek.

the tension in the air isn’t incredibly prominent—it still lingers but with a less demanding presence. it’s natural and easy in the way it always is with beomgyu. existing with beomgyu is just so uncomplicated.

you feel yourself melt into the sheets as he presses closer, molding himself into you perfectly—as if he was destined to be right here all along. his nose brushes yours as he leans in, and when his lips touch yours, any thoughts clouding your mind immediately disperse, making room for the sun itself. your arms come up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you, feeling his heartbeat against yours. you feel safe, lax, content; all things good in the world.

his lips are unrushed as they move against yours, silently speaking a thousand words as he cups the side of your face, his hips subtly moving against yours. you sigh into his mouth, tilting your head to deepen the kiss—you don’t care about morning breath or the fact that you probably look a mess with your ridden-up shirt and tired eyes. and beomgyu doesn’t care either, licking into your mouth as if you’re a rare delicacy, grinding down against your thin panties.

he’s half-hard in his pants, desperately rubbing against you to chase whatever pleasure he can get. it’s endearing almost, the way he moans into your mouth as you reach down to slip your fingers past his waistband to trail a light touch over his dick. his voice is deeper than normal, stirring something inside of you that makes your legs clamp around his hips.

“i want you, gyu,” you breathe out once his lips finally leave yours, pumping him slowly. his lips catch in between his teeth as your fingers run over the head of his dick, feeling your fingers coat with sticky precum.

“hm? gotta be more specific than that, gorgeous,” beomgyu teases despite the way he’s slowly thrusting into your hand, smiling down at you in a way that usually would’ve pissed you off—but right now, it only makes your pussy drip with want.

“i want you inside of me. want you to fill me up,” you whine out as his fingers rub your clit over your panties, moving lower to press against your damp entrance. his resolve crumbles all too quickly as you peer up at him with your doe eyes, lips parted as you whine softly, moving your hips against his fingers.

“fuck, okay baby.”

you let him move away to strip himself of his sparse clothing as you pull your shirt over your head. the butterflies return quickly as you realize this is the first time you’re seeing each other completely unclothed and—oh god. he’s huge. your half-asleep state didn’t realize the sheer amount of dick between your fingers, but now that you’re seeing it in the morning light, you aren’t even sure if it’ll fit.

beomgyu makes his way back over to you, his fingers hooking onto the band of your panties to drag them down your legs. his eyes are almost predatory as he takes in your glistening folds, unable to stop himself from running his fingers over your cunt, collecting your juices.

“you’re dripping,” he awes, his eyes flickering up to yours with a small smile. a heat rushes up your neck, shyly covering your face with both of your hands. beomgyu’s small laugh resonates throughout the room, feeling his clean hand come up to gently move your arms away.

when you meet his eyes again, they’re filled with a sort of fondness that makes your head spin, makes your heart stutter—it’s horrible and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips as his fingers return to your cunt, slightly dipping into your hole, soaking them even more.

“i want you to look at me. can you do that?” beomgyu gently requests and you’re nodding before you can fully register his words. he flashes you a proud smile before he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean of your juices. an airy, surprised moan leaves your body against your will at the sight, and his smile broadens. “you taste amazing, baby.”

his middle finger enters your entrance with no resistance, and you feel yourself clench down as he curls it upwards to gently explore your walls. it’s all too much and not enough all at once. he’s going incredibly slow, as if you two have all the time in the world, but you can’t wait. you need him now.

“please, just fuck me. ‘m ready,” you demand through a whine, pleading with your eyes, an action that effectively softens beomgyu's gaze. he doesn’t remove his finger, but instead adds another alongside it, his thumb coming to brush against your clit. you buck against his hand with a small moan as he moves up your body, trailing kisses from your hipbone, to your breasts, and finally your lips.

it’s a chaste peck, but it’s enough to leave you wanting more, chasing after his lips once he pulls back. you whine at the loss, already feeling your brain turn to mush with the way his fingers slowly drag against the walls of your cunt, his thumb just barely applying pressure to your swollen nub.

“are you sure?”

“yes, yes, ‘m sure. want your cock, gyu. just—” you’re nearly hysterical as your hips grind down on his fingers. you can already feel the frustrated tears brimming your eyelashes, reaching up to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his. “please, please…”

“shh. it’s okay, baby,” beomgyu coos, pressing a few soft kisses to your lips. you quietly gasp as he removes his fingers from your hole. he kisses your cheeks all too delicately, his forearm resting by your head to steady himself. “i’ll take care of you. just relax.”

you almost cry happy tears with the way you feel the head of his cock tease your hole, dipping in but not fully entering. his lips find yours again as he drags his dick in between your sopping folds, swallowing his low moan at the feeling. “my perfect girl. so pretty, so wet for me.”

when he pushes in, your arms tighten around his neck, your enter body locking up at the intrusion. you feel like a virgin again, his girth stretching you open almost uncomfortably. his thumb rubs your hips to soothe you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss to distract you from the feeling. he stops for a second, letting you get used to his dick as he peppers kisses across your face.

“fuck, it feels like you’re splitting me in half,” you blurt out and beomgyu can’t help but laugh softly, his forehead resting against yours. “i think i can feel you in my throat.”

“can you stop making me laugh so i can fuck you stupid, please?”

his words are lighthearted, but the thought of being fucked to the point where you can’t even speak has you shutting up in no time. you whine quietly as beomgyu continues pushing into you until he’s fully situated inside of your cunt—you’re fluttering around him like crazy, feeling the faint pain slowly dispersing into pleasure as he kisses your jaw.

“you can move now,” you mumble, and beomgyu wastes no time pulling out, almost all the way, just to snap his cock back into you with a force that rocks the bed slightly. you can’t cover up the choked-out gasp that leaves your lips, eventually turning into a stream of moans and whines as he quickly sets a brutal pace.

his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust, your mind clouding over as pleasure fills your bloodstream, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. he places one last kiss on your lips before sitting up, both of his hands moving wrapping around your thighs. you’re so wet that his dick easily glides in and out of you, wet, squelching sounds filling the room as you drip around him.

“you’re so tight, god. letting me fuck you raw like the needy slut you are,” he chastizes, groaning as he pulls your body in to meet his hips. his strokes are so deep, you already feel yourself nearing your high.

“yes, yes, yes. need you,” you cry out, hands gripping the sheets. “so big, gyu. ‘s too much, i can’t—”

“you were the one crying for my cock, so you better take it.” his sudden demeanor change sends a tingly rush up your spine, leaving your brain a muddled mess. his bangs have fallen into his eyes, his cheekbones flushed with a slight pink from the physical exertion and the warmth of the sun beaming through the windows. his stomach contracts with every thrust into your wet heat, low moans and sharp gasps leaving his lips as his eyes fall shut, his head lolling back at the feeling.

your core throbs, gut tightening with every passing moment—at some point, he brings his fingers down to circle your clit, whimpers leaving your mouth at the overwhelming feeling of it all. you clench down around him, hand stretching out for something, anything; and it only takes a few seconds for beomgyu to notice. his fingers interlace with yours, giving your hand a grounding squeeze.

“gonna fill you up—gonna make a mess of this pretty pussy,” beomgyu pants out, a low moan leaving his lips as his hips slightly stutter.

“‘m gonna cum, gyu, ‘m cumming,” you babble out, your head rolling to the side as your eyes shut, the immense pleasure coursing through your body becoming all too much. somewhere through your muffled ears, you hear beomgyu praising you for taking him so well, but by that point, you’re already gone.

the moan that leaves your lips is nearly pornagraphic, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your orgasm washes over you. all the air is punched out of your lungs and beomgyu thrusts deep into you before settling there, a low groan leaving his lips as his dick twitches inside of you.

“fuck, baby, i love you. i love you so much,” he breathes out as he cums—you feel the hot streaks of his cum painting your insides, shooting places you weren’t even sure existed inside of you. it leaves your mind hazy, unable to even process the way he pulls out, his cum dripping out of you and onto the white sheets.

the feeling of a hot, wet tongue against your entrance makes your hips buck up—you let out a surprised gasp that’s quickly overtaken by a whimper, your hand reaching to entangle itself in his hair.

“wait, gyu—fuck, i’m sensitive,” you whine, feeling your eyes brim with tears at the overstimulation. his tongue flicks against your abused cunt as he cleans up his own cum, fucking it back into you with his tongue.

“you can take it, baby. i know you can,” he pants against your pussy before his lips encircle your clit, sucking and nibbling ever so slightly. you can’t control the noise leaving your lips, whining and moaning as your legs clamp around his head. beomgyu simply chuckles against you before two of his fingers enter your pussy, teasing and prodding at your sentive walls.

“gyu, i can’t, i can’t…” you sob, tears running down your cheeks as the overstimulation sends painful shocks up your spine. you’re gushing around his tongue, the sheets beneath you completely soaked through. your brain fights against itself, your body unsure of whether to press closer or pull away. you can’t think about anything other than beomgyu’s fingers and mouth, eyes squeezed shut as your body racks with sobs.

“yes, you can. cum on my tongue, pretty girl.”

and you do, your back arching as you moan loudly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as your hips frot against his face, waves of pleasure washing over you, drowning you. your entire body trembles with shocks as your mind goes blank, flopping back onto the bed as you attempt to catch your breath. tears are still running down your cheeks—your entire body feels like it’s floating. you’re completely wrung out. that was probably the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

you don’t even register beomgyu’s soft hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears away, his lips pressing against your forehead, your nose; anywhere his lips can reach. it’s grounding as you slowly come back down to earth.

“you did so well for me, baby. so, so perfect. so beautiful. you took it all, i’m so proud of you.”

you blink your eyes open at his words, feeling those butterflies flock with the way he’s watching you so attentively, his eyes flitting across your face quickly.

“i didn’t go too far, did i?” beomgyu’s voice is almost nervous, low and quiet in your ear as he strokes the side of your face. you crack a small smile at how cute he looks, reaching up to brush some of the hair out of his eyes.

“no, not at all. i liked it,” you reassure, your fingers trailing down his neck, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. he visibly melts into your touch at the words, shoulders slumping in relief.

“thank god,” he breathes out, slumping on top of you—you half-heartedly protest, but the weight is nice, loving the way it feels to have his chest rise and fall against yours, his head resting in the crook your neck. you wrap your arms around him with a little giggle, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“you big baby,” you tease. he’s completely unbothered, though, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder before settling against you again.

“only around you.”

the quiet is relaxing, hearing the calm waves of the beach down the hill and the slight buzz of the air conditioner. as much as your brain wants to believe that you imagined it, his words from a few moments ago ring like a mantra in your head. words that make your chest tight, and your mind spin, and your stomach flutter. having him in your arms like this makes you sure that what you heard wasn’t made up in your mind.

“you said you love me.”

a beat of silence.

“hm?” he hums inquisitively as if he didn’t hear you correctly the first time.

“when you, um—when you… came…” you whisper the last part, feeling the vibrations of beomgyu’s laugh fill your own chest.

“you’re still shy after all of that?” beomgyu asks incredulously as he lifts his head to look at you. a tiny, playful smile sits on his lips and you pout, nudging him softly.

“stop changing the topic!” beomgyu laughs again as he relaxes back into your hold.

“okay, i did say i love you. because i do. i love you.”

the words hit you deeper this time, now that your mind is clear—he sounds so sure of himself, and the confidence seeps into you, confirming your own feelings that have been threatening to spill over these last few days.

“i love you too.” you pause for a second. “ like, love love you.”

beomgyu chuckles against your skin, his arms tightening around your frame as he nuzzles in closer to you, despite already being skin to skin. he’s cute, you think.

“i’d hope ‘love love’ is what we’re talking about right now,” he speaks almost sarcastically and you lightly tug his hair for being a smartass—you get the opposite reaction you were searching for though because beomgyu dramatically moans at the action just to rile you up even more.

“oh my god, you’re insufferable,” you huff, but the smile on your face is telling enough as he lifts his head once again to meet your eyes—his hair is all messy and strewn about, lips bitten red and raw, cheeks flushed; and that fact that you’re in love with your best friend full sinks in. he’s everything to you.

“but you love me.”

you sigh.

“yea. i do.”

a blinding smile breaks out on beomgyu’s lips as he leans in to peck yours a few times, your body melting as he kisses you with so many emotions, it makes your heart get caught in your throat, your skin buzzing with contentment.

he pulls away, sitting up to climb off the bed, searching for his sweatpants.

“come on. time for me to do my husband duties and run you a bath.”

“you’re still comitting to this, huh?” you giggle as you sit up too, watching his figure retreat towards the bathroom. beomgyu turns slightly, the smile on his lips absolutely menacing.

“so? i gotta practice for the future.”

your future, you brain tells you.

and that idea isn't so bad, you think.

reblogs and feedback are highly cherished!

tags! @grayscorner @banggyu0308 @huckleberrykai @agustdiv1ne @yunhorights @nes-caf @1921choi

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

#txt #txt imagines #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #txt x reader #txt x y/n #beomgyu imagines #beom-pyu #beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu hard hours

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marksbear · 1 year

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Heyyyy I always love you fics🤭🤭 I would like to request a Lip Gallagher X Top Male Reader. This is just if requests are open and if you have the time🤭

-💋

.Hiii Love! Thank you for loving my fics! I love lip with every single bone in my body let me tell you. Since day one I have loved that man. I'm making sfw and nsfw headcanons!

LIP GALLAGHER X TOP MALE READER

-You are most definitely his bisexual awaking.

-He'll quit smoking and drinking if you just say the word. I mean he'll go completely sober and clean if you'd just ask.

-Meet you in the school bathrooms during randoms times in the days just to kiss/ makeout or just spend time together in there.

-Likes to ramble about you to Ian. He'll talk about you to him for hours on end until he can't even say anything about you anymore.

-Doing reckless shit together most of the time yall hangout.

-Gives you an extra key to the house.

-Likes to sneak inside your house even though he could have just knocked.

-Him not giving a shit about homophobic remarks people make about the two of you.

-Tries to keep you steer clear from Frank. I mean Frank already ruined his whole life he doesn't want him to ruin his love life now.

-Wouldn't mind leaving this place and starting a new one while having a family with you. Its something that he frequently dreams about and hopes to have with you one day.

-He cherishes the days when you two just lay in bed together not even talking or doing anything.

-Making out in the living room inside the Gallagher house while crazy shit just plays in the back. The two of you are just in your own little world while everything outside of it is just hell.

-While Lip was in college you'd two would be in his dorm room studying with each other. And having breaks here and there making out.

-He secretly loves it when you walk him home especially when it's night.

-Loves pda.

-Secretly to be treated like a prince or arm candy. He likes it when you brag and compliment him in front of your friends.

-If you have a job he'll be there waiting for you to be done working. Like he'll just walk around wherever you work or just follow you around as you work like a lost puppy.

-Tries to keep you out of the family Gallagher drama.

NSFW Headcanons!

-After the two of you first fucked he was completely shocked and satisfied in the same time.

-Loves it when you man handle him. It's just something about being thrown around that he loves.

-He absolutely loves sucking your dick. Hes infatuated with it and tries to suck it anytime. And especially during risky times.

-He's into a lot of things. Like degrading, thrill of being caught, size difference, choking and rough. I mean can you blame him.

-Tries to act dominant outside of the relationship. Tries to act like he's the man/ top of the relationship, but in reality he's a slut who likes to be used and treated like trash.

-Rides your cock like there's no tomorrow. He loves holding and grabbing onto your chest as he does it.

-VERY VOCAL.

-When hes with a woman hes mild he can be quiet and loud sometimes, but with you hes LOUD. He's moaning out every cuss word in the book as he screams about how good you make him feel.

-Very much into cigarette after sex or just smoking a blunt during it.

-While he smokes he'll just blow smoke on your dick as he is about to give you head.

-Loves to call you anything you'd like. Just tell him and hours later in bed hes moaning out the name like his life depends on it.

-Likes to say you took his gay virginity.

-He likes to grind his ass down on your cock whenever he can. He'll just do it out of nowhere.

-Likes to jerk you off during the most random and worst times. You two could just be in the train sitting down in the seats he'll randomly just move his hand to your crotch palming you through your pants.

-He loves facials.

-Loves kissing randomly during sex. Something about that just turns him on so much.

-He loves dirty talk. And especially just randomly at times. You just leaning over to him and whispering the most filthy dirtiest things in his ear.

-Loves it when you mark him. It can be bite marks, hickeys hand prints you name it he loves them with all his soul. Likes bragging about it and showing people like its nothing.

THE END

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagaher x male reader #x male reader #male reader #shamless #shameless x male reader #shamless x reader #x top male reader #x dom male reader

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souliebird · 6 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 8]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Words: 3.9k

There is a pigeon perched on the streetlamp that sits on the north corner of the block. It's got some sort of stick, most likely, and has been unsuccessfully trying to make a nest for the past hour. Given that the streetlamp is curved, this is a very bad idea, but the bird doesn't know that. The poor things weren't meant to be in the wild and a single stick is not going to save its egg from falling off if it chooses to lay it there. But it keeps at it, picking up the stick and putting it back down at different angles.

Matt very much understands the dumb bird's struggles. He has no idea what the hell he is doing, either. He felt, finally, after many a year, he actually had his shit together. And sure, maybe it was held together with duct tape, a lot of ibuprofen, and multiple prayers, but it was stable and balanced. He had a handle on things, for the most part.

He was doing what he loved, in all aspects of his life - defending people with the law and with his fists. He had Foggy and Karen, and he was working more with the Defenders, and he could be in Frank's presence without a fist fight happening. There was a drop in crime in Hell's Kitchen - he'd stopped the last two crime families who had tried to set up shop here before they even had a foot hold.

Then everything in his universe changed and Matt is now the human equivalent of a pigeon trying to lay an egg on a streetlamp.

He never thought he would be a father. It was something he dreamed about, in the deep recesses of his mind, but he never thought it would be a reality. Not with Daredevil. But, oh did God love to yank on his chain and remind Matt he had no clue what His plans were for him.

Matt wouldn't change it for the world, though. Something fundamental in him changed the moment the words had left your mouth and when he met Minnie for the first time, he knew he was a goner.

He would happily throw himself into the pits of Hell if it would make his daughter smile.

He wants so much to be a good father. Everything in him aches to be half as good as his own father was to him, but he doesn't know how, and he is terrified of fucking it up.

Because if there is one thing Matthew Murdock is good at its fucking things up. Especially when he thinks he means well.

So, Matt is taking in all the lessons God has taught him over the last few years and going against his instincts and he is going to ask for help.

Foggy and Karen should be at his door any minute, if they stop pausing to talk on the stairs, and Matt is going to tell them everything.

He hasn't been this nervous in years and he can't stop pacing. He's pretty sure he's going to wear his path into his floor if he keeps going, but he just adds it to all the other damage the apartment has incurred over the years. It's not like he's getting his security deposit back anyways.

He wants to open his front door and yell at his friends to hurry up, but he doesn't want to alarm them. They know something is up with him, Matt apparently wears his emotions on his sleeve, but they don't know what. He suspects Karen might have an inkling because Karen has an extra sense when it comes to detecting secrets, but Foggy is clueless and Matt doesn't want to worry him.

He allows himself to stop pacing once they reach his landing and tells himself to walk calmly once they knock on the door.

He prides himself in not wrenching the thing off its hinges from his nerves and gives his friends a beaming smile, "I thought you'd never make it up the stairs."

"Oh good," Foggy chimes, clapping Matt on the shoulder as he walks by, "He's still being weird."

"I'm not being weird," Matt counters quickly, only for Karen to pat his cheek when she passes him.

"You're being weird."

He shuts and locks the door before following them into his main living area. Foggy goes straight for the fridge, browsing his beer options while Karen takes residence on the couch. He doesn't need to be able to see to know she's staring at the two big binders sitting on the coffee table.

"Buddy," Foggy starts, popping three beers open with a hiss of the bottles, "the past few weeks you have been Grade A weird. You keep getting this dopey look on your face and spacing out. And usually," he continues, walking leisurely to the couch and handing Karen her beer first, before giving Matt his, "I would suspect a woman, or a man, because the heart wants what the heart or dick wants, but I know Matt Murdock falling for a girl weird. This isn't that type of weird. And this isn't Daredevil weird, because you get broody when it's that. This weird? I don't know this weird. So, spill Murdock, why are you being weird."

"And don't tell us it's nothing," Karen adds. Her beer sloshes in the bottle, indicating she's pointing it at him. "Because I agree with Foggy. We don't know this weird."

Matt deflates just slightly. He guesses he's been way less subtle than he thought he was being.

"Fine, I've been weird, BUT," he says with emphasis, "It's for a very good reason and I want it on the record that I was not hiding anything or keeping it secret. I was confirming all the facts before presenting my case. I.." he pauses to choose his words carefully, "didn't want to get ahead of myself."

"You didn't want to get ahead of yourself?" Foggy confirms and he gives a nod.

The response is for both Karen and Foggy to take long sips of their respective beers. Matt's nerves are too riled up to drink his, yet so he starts to scratch at the label to get the energy out.

"So, this is Devil related?" Foggy asks. There's a hint of disappointment and exhaustion in his voice and it makes Matt's heart hurt. He has really put his best friend through it, hasn't he?

"No. Well, yes, but no. It's complicated." Because the Devil is involved by default because it is Matt and it will be something that needs to be addressed down the road, but for right now, no. Not Devil related.

"That's not very reassuring," Karen points out.

"Just tell us, buddy. Whatever it is, we're here for you."

That makes Matt's lips turn down, "It isn't a bad thing, Fog."

"Well, we wouldn't know that because you've told us nothing," Foggy counters.

His instinct is to keep bantering with Foggy and he knows they can go at it for another hour, but he reminds himself of his resolve and settles back into the couch.

He's practiced his speech about a dozen times but all of it dies in his throat and the truth comes out on its own, blunt and to the point.

"I am a father."

Foggy has the more intense reaction, confirming Matt's suspension that Karen had an idea at the truth. His best friend inhales sharply, heart starting to beat harder in his chest. His body is sending all sorts of signals, and this is one of the times Matt wishes he could see - just to know what expression Foggy has.

It feels like hours before Fog finally says something.

"You're going to be a father?"

"No," Matt corrects, "I AM a father. I already am."

Karen leans forward, her spine creaking and her hair swishing, "The little girl. From last week. That's her, isn't it?"

Matt nods, feeling a smile start to pull at his cheeks, "Yeah. That was her."

"Oh my God, Matt!" He hears her weight shift as she pushes herself across the couch and right into Matt, loosely throwing her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it, hugging her back with the arm not holding his beer. "She is adorable!"

"She is, isn't she?" He preens.

Foggy's brain finally seems to process the information and he sits on the arm of one of the chairs, like he needs the support, "Wait, no, that was a toddler, wasn't it? That child was like five."

"She's three. And a half." Matt says as Karen pulls away from him to go back to her spot.

Foggy's bottle of beer sloshes and Matt imagines he's holding up his hands in a mock surrender. "Sorry, three and a half. Plus, nine months that would…Jesus, Matt, that's before we started the firm. The first time."

"Blasphemy, Foggy. And.. Yeah, the Christmas before we started the firm. When we were still at L and Z," he allows himself a sip of beer before diving into his explanation, "That Christmas party we went to, the one good one we ditched the L and Z one for."

Foggy shakes his head, "I was with you that whole night, Matt."

"Until you ditched me for the French woman," he gently reminds his best friend.

Foggy goes quiet and he must be trying to remember. Matt can tell Karen is watching like a hawk, keen eyes and ears trying to unravel the whole story.

"I forgot about the French woman. She ditched me and I guess I assumed you left and…" Fog trails off.

"Well, I did leave, to be fair," he reminds them. "Just not alone."

"Jesus, Matt," Foggy repeats and he lets it slide this time. He'll say an extra Hail Mary for him. "Did you not wrap it up?"

Both Karen and Matt give a bark of laughter.

"Of course, I did. And she was on the pill, but you know that is not a guarantee."

"Why come forward now?" Karen asks, redirecting the conversation.

"She didn't know who I was. She says she tried to find me, and she wasn't lying. Then she saw that interview we did and recognized me," he tells them.

He hears Foggy rub at his jaw and Matt just knows his brain is going into lawyer mode.

"But why did she tell you," Karen pushes, and he can tell she's looking for an angle that isn't there.

He ducks his chin just slightly and goes back to playing with the beer label, "It's not like that. It's not. She wants what is best for Minnie. She wanted me to be aware and have the option to get to know her. She was fully prepared for me to turn her away. She had already signed the forms waiving her right to ask for child support. The only thing she wanted was to know my family medical history."

"Her name is Minnie?" Karen cooes and that warms Matt's heart. He suddenly very much understands your need to gush over your daughter.

"It is. Winifred Love. She goes by Minnie or Mouse," he knows he's smiling like an idiot, but he can't help it.

"That is such a sweet name," Karen hums and he can hear her smile.

"It is," he agrees, then he tilts his head towards Foggy, his voice dropping to something almost apologetic. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to be sure. She wasn't lying when she said I was the father, but that could have been because she believed I was. And I am. We got a paternity test and I wanted…I wanted it to be official. Real. Before I told you. And now it is. My name is going to be added to her birth certificate. I filed the paperwork and everything."

He can't nail down how Foggy is reacting and that scares him. He doesn't want his best friend to be upset with him, again. He was really, really trying to do the right thing this time.

Foggy finally, finally pushes himself off the chair and steps around the coffee table before enveloping Matt in a tight hug. Matt hugs him back, just as tightly.

"I'm so happy for you, buddy," Fog breathes against him. The corners of his eyes start to sting, and Matt tells himself he is Not going to cry.

Foggy holds him for a good thirty seconds before letting go and stepping away, "Okay, before we jump into the whole Daredevil -"

"I'm going to tell her," Matt cuts his friend off. He puts his beer down and leans forward to put his elbows on his knees, "Not right now, but I completely intend to. If I can trust her. I think I can, but we've only just really met again. But I've learned. From both of you. I want to do this right. I want to tell her about my senses, first, and then we can build up to the other stuff. Once I am completely sure I can trust her."

Neither Karen nor Foggy respond to him right away and he has the feeling they are having a complete conversation with just their eyes. He waits. He doesn't want to rush them either. Matt wants to go into this with all of them on the same page. It's important to him.

They are his family, too.

"Tell us about them," Karen finally says and Matt doesn't even try to fight the grin that spreads across his face.

He tells them your name, then reaches for the first of the binders - the one that is twice the size of the other.

"She's…she's Good. You'll like her. She, uh, made me this, kind of big guide to our daughter. Everything I need to know and it's…in Braille. She knew I couldn't read print, so uh, all of Minnie's life she's been requesting copies of documents in Braille for when she found me." He pushes the binder towards Karen, and she picks it up in a flash, starting to flip through the pages.

"This is pretty detailed," she hums, before cooing again, "There's pictures. Look, Fog."

Foggy walks around the couch to stand behind Karen. Matt can tell that even though they are both Happy for him, they are worried, and he more than understands. He knows once he tells them more, that worry will fade.

He just needs to drop the final off the bombshells.

He licks his lips, clears his throat, then throws himself into the open, "Minnie is like me. She has my senses."

They both go as still as they can, taking identical sharp inhales.

"Not as…intense as mine, I don't think, but she has them. I.. Confirmed it. She could hear an ice cream truck four city blocks away."

"Matt…" Foggy starts and Matt shakes his head.

"We had a conversation, Fog. Clear across the park. I was whispering. She's…she's like me. She was born with it, but she's adapted, for the most part. Her mom just thinks she's sensitive, and she is, and she…she.." he motions with his hand, trying to convey what he wants to say, "Her mom helps. She gets her these headphones to block out sounds and all these things to help her. She just does it, she's doesn't question the why. All those little stupid things that make my life more annoying - the smell of cleaning supplies and how food tastes like the sewer or that certain fibers feel like sandpaper - Minnie deals with those and her Mom does her best so that she doesn't have to suffer. And that's…I need your help." He taps the second, smaller binder. "She made me a guide, so I want to make her one. I just…I don't know how."

He deflates a little. Over the past two weeks, he's done his best to type things up, things he thinks will help, but he has no clue if any of it makes sense to anyone but him.

"Oh, Matt," Karen hands the big binder off to Foggy, then leans forward to take Matt's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, "Of course we will help you."

"We will make the best how to deal with your bat radar guide that has ever existed, bud. You can count on us," Foggy adds, starting to flip through the binder himself.

That evaporates Matt's doubt, and he huffs out a laugh, "I don't think there is another guide, Fog."

"Then we will set the standard for human bat radar guides," Karen counters with mirth.

"I'll drink to that," his best friend says, once again moving so he can grab his drink. He raises the bottle in a toast, "To the best damn bat radar guide there will ever be, and to Matt, whose man whore ways have blessed us with another him!"

Matt scoops up with beer with a laugh and clinks his bottle against Foggy's, Karen's joining a moment later.

"To Minnie," Karen adds and that makes Matt beam.

"To Minnie!"

They all take long pulls on their beers then set them down on the table.

Matt can practically feel Karen grinning at him, "What?"

"I want stories," she says, reaching over to shake his arm, "You've told us the big picture, I want to know about this little pumpkin. How many times have you gotten to meet her?"

"A few times," he says, unable to hide his own smile. "She calls me Mister Matt. We haven't told her who I am yet. We want her to be comfortable and I…want her to want me to be her father, you know?" He hears both of them nod and he keeps barreling on. "She's…she's perfect. She's so sweet - she loves to use her manners, you know? Please and Thank yous. And she just wants to help, with anything. She's pretty good for a three year old at being a Guide. I'm learning a lot about what she thinks is important."

"What is important?" Foggy asks, and Matt can hear the underlying happiness in his voice and that makes Matt giddy.

"Colors. How soft something looks. If it has a name and how it's feeling." He grins and adds, "At the park she was telling me how we can't walk in the grass because it's rude and hurts the grass' feelings. And that we can't pick flowers because it takes them away from their families and makes them sad."

Karen cooes, "That's the sweetest thing."

Foggy huffs fondly, "She wanted to pick flowers with you?"

He shrugs and ducks his head a little, "Kinda? She was talking about how to make flower crowns and bracelets."

"Is she going to make you a flower crown?" Karen asks, and Matt can sense her leaning towards him. The teasing in her voice has him guessing she's got her Mischievous look on.

"Maybe."

"That's so sweet."

"It's so 2014," Foggy adds with his own teasing.

Karen throws one of the throw pillows he's somehow accumulated at Foggy, "She's a baby, leave her alone."

Both he and Foggy laugh and Matt can't help but get his own dig in, "Like you would deny a flower crown from her."

"Damn right, I wouldn't," his best friend bites back. "I'm accepting all flower crowns, hair braiding, nail painting, and tea parties. I am going to be the best uncle she could ever dream of - wait, does she already have an uncle? Do I need to do research? I'll out Uncle anyone."

Matt shakes his head, "No, it's just the two of them. No other family. It seems like a sensitive topic, so I haven't.. Pushed. She hasn't either, but my background is a little more…public? I haven't told her about Maggie, yet."

The couch groans as Karen leans back into it, sipping again at her beer before humming, "Well, it will be easier to keep your late night activities under wrap. Less people to question things?"

"That's a way to put it," is the response from his other friend. Matt shakes his head at both their words.

"I told you I want to tell her, once it's safe. I need your help with that, too," Matt pushes himself up and starts to pace behind his couch, "With everything we've been through, all the things we've been working on as a team - and I know most of that is me with all my bullshit and issues." He stops his walking to rub at his jaw, "I know…I know I'm going to be bad at this. I know I'm going to fuck something up. I've done it to both of you countless times. And I can't give up on being the Devil, we've seen how it goes when I try to go either way, so I need to find the balance quick but I can't.." He trails off slightly as the emotions swell in his chest at his self sabotaging this and he has to inhale deeply to keep himself from getting too worked up. "I can't lose them. I can't."

"Oh, Matt," Karen whispers.

He's so caught up in his own emotions he doesn't hear Foggy get up and actually starts when he's clapped on the shoulder, "Matt, let me say this with my full heart, and I know Karen will one hundred percent agree, and I'm pre-facing this with I love you and you are my brother and best friend, and I think this is exactly what you need me to tell you. If you pull any of the bullshit you did with us with them or anything similar, I will personally drop you into the Hudson. After Karen is through with you."

It catches him off guard, but his best friend is right and it is exactly what he needs to hear.

"There would not be anything left to dispose of," Karen cheerily adds and Matt doesn't need super human hearing to know she's telling the truth.

He nods in understanding to both of them, "Thank you." He needs to properly thank them for so many things, but he doesn't know how and all he can do is repeat the words.

"So," Foggy starts again, squeezing Matt's shoulder before shaking him a few times. "When do I get to meet my newest niece?"

"Once we tell her the truth about who I am to her. I'm going over for dinner tomorrow, to try and be in more everyday things to get her used to it all." He wonders if his excitement about the dinner is showing through. He gets to visit where you and his daughter live and that always says so much about a person. He wants to be let into that bubble.

"Wait!" Karen gasps, turning more in her seat so she is facing towards the two of them, "If Foggy gets to be Uncle, does that mean I'm an Aunt?"

"Do you want to be?" He asks, because it is obviously a 'yes' in his mind.

Karen considers this, Foggy narrating, "She's debating on her head, doing the whole tilting it one way and then the next."

"Oh, hush, Fog! Of course, I want to be!"

This quickly dissolves into playful bickering.

"Aunt Karen has a good ring to it."

"Oh, like Uncle Foggy is much better?"

Matt grins and finds his way back to his seat and his beer. He grabs the bottle and takes a long sip, listening to two of the most important people in his life bask in the glow of their little family getting bigger.

Maybe, just maybe, he isn't as helpless and lost as he thinks he is.

Maybe it will all be okay.

He just needs to have faith.

taglist:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then I met you

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months

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hi, I absolutely loved your headcanons for Bucky (agree 100% with everything you said), but I'm a sucker for Frank Castle... so can I ask for rum with him? 💙

Frank Castle Headcanons.

warnings - sexual content.

so glad you agreed with my bucky headcanons, my love!! here are some for our Frank. <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

- I think if you give him time, Frank would thrive on domesticity. Making you breakfast, doing the laundry, grocery shopping. He'd settle into an easy life so easy if he let himself.

- He wouldn't want any more kids. Not even sure if he'd want to remarry. Being a father and being a husband are roles that are associated with so much pain, for him. He'd be more than happy being your partner, though. You don't need a marriage certificate to prove your devotion to each other.

- Big sweet tooth. Loves candy, cookies, popsicles, pastries. Loves anything with chocolate on/in it. Loves ice cream, loves frozen yogurt, loves frozen custard. He's a secret sugar fiend.

- He's always the big spoon. Loves to wrap himself around you, tangle your legs together, snake his arms around your middle as tight as he can.

- The man is a walking radiator. A breathing space heater. He runs so hot. Always puts your feet under his thighs on the couch to warm them up. Smothers your hands in his when you're in public, especially if it's cold.

and now for the sexy stuff...

- There's one word for this man in bed. Shameless.

- His dirty talk is enough to get you off. He doesn't even have to touch you. He's got this low, rough, buttery tone, and he's filthy. Says the most unhinged shit. Makes you blush and stutter and hide your face in your hands.

- Loooves missionary. He thrives on watching your expressions, the way your eyes flutter shut, the look on your face when your mouth drops open.

- I think Frank likes to be a little possessive, but not in a toxic way. More in a you're-mine-and-i'm-yours kind of way. Lots of atta girl and my good fucking girl and that's it, there's my baby.

- Big fan of when you get a little rough with him. Likes the edge, thrives on the pain. Slap him, scratch him, bite him, choke him. He's into it.

- Can be soft with you, if you want it that way. Slow, smooth thrusts, covers you in kisses, strokes your hair back from your face. Plasters his body to yours, not an inch of space between you.

- Tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He knows you know. He just wants to make sure.

in conclusion... he might be a little rough around the edges, but that man would devote his life to you. no questions. <3

as always, feel free to agree/disagree/expand on these!! let me know if you have any thoughts about any of these headcanons, or if you have any of your own. <3

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle x reader fluff #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #the punisher smut #the punisher #murphy's 3k celebration #jon bernthal #frank castle headcanons #frank castle headcanon

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mcrslover · 2 months

Text

MCR quotes for anyone who needs them:

"Kids would say they were going to kill themselves then they heard our music... it's our mission"

- Mikey Way.

...

"Reasons why mcr is good for you

juradsleigh:

Feeling like a rad vampire? Listen to bullets

Feeling angry? Listen to 3 cheers

Feeling sad? Listen to black parade

Feeling colourful and happy? Listen to danger days

Feeling like breaking up your band? Listen to death never stop you"

...

"This is for every kid out there... That dyed their hair a fucked up colour and can't get a job. They got a tattoo on their neck like Frank, and can't get a job. That does this because they fuckin' love this. This song is for every kid in the audience- even if you don't have fucked up hair or tattoos-every kid on stage, this song's about us, this song's about you, it's called The Kids From Yesterday."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Stop covering your children's eyes.

Everything is fucked up and pretending it's not won't make it any better. I'm tired of people praying for a change when it's up to them to get off their asses and make a change."

- Frank Iero.

...

"I spent most of my time in the back of the class, just drawing. My goal was to not get noticed in school, because spent so long not being noticed anyway or being treated as if I were invisible that I started to like it.

I've learned that it's actually not very lonely... It's like, you have less friends but the friends you have count more. I met a lot of people that weren't outsiders, or they were very popular, and they have a lot of friends but I don't know if they're the kinds of friends you would call up at 3 am to help you out or talk about being depressed."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Promise me, when MCR's gone, you'll do what it takes to survive. You're strong enough to do it without us."

- Gerard Way.

...

"All your quirks and all your problems, even your depressions, and your failures that's.. that's what makes you, you."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you or someone you know is severely depressed you need to fucking talk to someone! Your mom, someone in school, I don't give a fuck! Because suicide is fucking bullshit."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Nothing is worth hurting yourself over, nothing is worth taking your life over"

- Gerard Way.

...

"If we never play another show again, just keep yourself alive."

- Gerard Way.

...

"We're outsiders, we're the kids who didn't get dates for the prom, we're the kids who were confused, who didn't fit in with the cliques, who weren't part of the in-crowd.

Growing up can be a very frightening and confusing time, and I think people look at us and see it's okay to be different. They see that there is a way other than what they're being offered. That you can stand out, that you can be creative, that you can be yourself."

- Gerard Way.

...

"gerard-hey:

I love MCR so much it's like they have a song for every situation. Feeling sad? Listen to The Lights Behind Your Eyes. Feeling frustrated? Listen to I'm Not Okay. Feeling Energetic? Listen to Na Na Na. Feeling like you wanna kick some ass? Listen to Destroya.

Feeling rebellious? Listen to Teenagers. Feel like you wanna break up your band? Listen to Fake Your Death."

...

"The difference we want to make is, number one, to let these kids know that they're not alone, that they're actually not that messed up, and that they can do whatever they want they can express themselves in any way they want without being persecuted or called a faggot or some kind of racist thing. Really just get people to get over their stuff so they can live."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Whatever happens to you, no matter what, l'm always fucking there for you... Don't forget that. I don't give a shit if your boyfriend dumps you. If your girlfriend dumps you. If you're working a shitty job or can't get through school. If you can't get through a fucking Harry Potter book, there's nothing worth dying over. There's nothing worth taking your life over. I will always fucking be there."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you come to an MCR show, you're probably a little fucked up, and that's okay because we're just as fucked up as you. It's us against the world. And it's great because there's thousands of us in one place."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Someone doesn't like you? Fuck it.

Having a bad day? Fuck it. Didn't get that job, or that grade, or that promotion you wanted? Fuck it. Fighting with your lover? Fuck it. Feel fat today? Fuck it. Losing control of everything and everyone? Fuck it.

What matters now won't matter soon; the truly important thing is that you are alive, and that you have the capacity to do absolutely anything with this beautiful, crazy coincidence of being on this earth. Just stick your middle fingers in the air and think, 'Damn, I have it good."

- Gerard Way.

...

"You're going to come across a lot of shitty bands, and a lot of shitty people. And if anyone of those people call your names because of what you look like, or bedause they don't accept you for who you are. I want you to look right at that mother fucker, stick up your middle finger and scream

"FUCK YOU!!"

- Gerard Way.

...

"Real revenge is making something of yourself."

- Gerard Way.

❤️🖤❤️🖤

#emo #gerard way #frank iero #my chemical romance #alternative #quotes #mcr #mcrquote #emokids

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qprstobin · 9 months

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I'm gonna be frank, Eddie just does not give me the impression that he was bullied all that much in high school to me. Especially as he got older, like he was the school drug dealer, he was not getting beat up by the same jocks who were going to be buying from him later that week. It just doesn't make sense to me!

I'm not saying he was never bullied at all (personally I think he was probably bullied by the people in his grade in like middle school, but leant more into the satanic image by the time he got to high school (which is when the satanic panic wouldve been starting) and people became more afraid to mess with him or it stopped when BS started dealing) or that people can't headcanon and project onto pm. It's fandom, do what you want lol. I've just gotten to the point where fics lose me whenever they claim Tommy/Steve/Jason was going around beating the shit out of him or shoving him in the halls every week or the like. Eddie just does not give the impression that he is scared of the jocks normally. He looks down on them and thinks he's better than them! He taunts them openly in front of everyone and pontificates on table tops.

I think if you take it in that context too, it makes the town turning on him more sinister? Like obviously, satanic panic was only growing at that point, and it was within the last year or two they started pointing at metal and D&D as recruiting centers for satanic cults. (Eddie also like an asshole is walking around with a satanic symbol on his jacket - peak edgy teen in the middle of a moral outcry.) But while people might've been afraid of him, and most definitely talked about him behind his back, that's worlds away from mob violence. The change was startling, even if Eddie might be able to see it on the horizon.

Idk to me that's more of what the hunt the freak line was about. The knowledge that they could turn on you and would if you gave them a reason (or if you want to go with the Eddie is closeted interpretation - if he got outed). I think he probably has been called the freak for a while but honestly I think he's proud of it at this point.

Obviously all of this is up to interpretation, I guess I've just gotten to the point where a lot of the popular fanon interpretation doesn't feel like Eddie to me anymore

#eddie munson #st meta #fandom wank #i guess #also like i said if you interpret it that way like i do think eddie is queer (bi specifically) but like lol not really the point of the post #also i just know someone eventually is gonna call me a tommy apologist #like lol nah i just think tommy is too much of a pussy to beat someone up #that boy has not punched someone in his life #also ngl uncomfortable ghat its a constant point of contention in steddie fics that steve or steves friends used to bully eddie #like no i dont want that in my ship fic #eddie #also i just want a more confident eddie #one who has had shit happen to him and is pretty fucking weird but owns it #and isnt a sad boy who is constantly beat up all the time #thats boring!

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bxnnywrites · 7 months

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🖤 Killers Reacting to Nervous!Reader Holding Their Hand (Pt. 2) 🖤

AN :: Since my last one was well received, I decided to do another one as a quickie! I'm also testing out a new layout so lmk what you think!! Hope you guys enjoy <3

Characters :: Kazan Yamaoka (The Oni), Eva MacMillan (The Trapper), Frank Morrison (The Legion), Susie Lavoie (The Legion), Bubba Sawyer (The Cannibal), Ellen Ripley (Bonus!) Pt 1 Here [link]

༉ Kazan Yamaoka :: The Oni

[PT: Kazan Yamaoka: The Oni]

✴ He's surprised by it at first, your small hand in his giant one.

✴ It puts into perspective just how tiny you are compared to him, though these days it's rare for anyone to be bigger than he is.

✴ You're so small, so frail. It gives him a surge of protectiveness, the need to keep you safe.

✴ He leans over and brings the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it softly, gentlemanly.

✴ Fucking hell that makes you blush even more.

✴ He chuckles a bit, ruffling your hair with one hand. A small act of affection to let you know you're safe.

✴ He will keep you safe, no matter what.

༉ Evan MacMillan :: The Trapper

[PT: Evan Macmillan: The Trapper]

✴ Honestly? He's a bit nervous too.

✴ He won't admit that though, won't even show it. Him? Nervous over someone holding his hand? Nah, he would never.

✴ He squeezes your hand in return, pulling you just a bit closer, but doesn't have much immediate reaction to it.

✴ Absolute sap about it in private though, can't stop thinking about it. It was so simple but it reminded him that you loved him, only him.

✴ The next time you're together he takes the initiative and holds your hand first. Keeping you close to him to really let everyone know who you belong to.

✴ Fuckin dork.

༉ Frank Morrison :: The Legion

[PT: Frank Morrison: The Legion]

✴ Aw, lookit you! You're so nervous from just some hand holding.

✴ "You're damn cute when you blush like that, babe."

✴ You pout in return and he chuckles, pulling you a bit closer and kissing your forehead.

✴ "You're just provin' the point, y'know?"

✴ More pouting and he's grinning ear to ear, bastard that he is.

✴ But you suppose that's why you love him in the first place, cocky son of a bitch.

✴ Anyways, similar to Michael, his hand now. It shall be returned within 3-5 business days. Dw about it.

༉ Susie Lavoie :: The Legion

[PT: Susie Lavoie: The Legion]

✴ asdfghjkl;'

✴ Oh my god hand? Hand Holding???? You are Holding her Hand?????

✴ Screaming internally

✴ You're blushing so much oh fuck you're so cute you're so pretty

✴ What does she do oh shit fuck uuuuuuh

✴ Holds your hand tighter, trying not to implode from her own nervous wreck of emotions.

✴ Eventually, and very quickly, she kisses your cheek.

✴ Trying not to die from her own blushing and embarrassment.

✴ You give her hand an affirming squeeze, smiling at her, and she relaxes.

✴ God how did she get so lucky?

༉ Bubba :: The Cannibal

[PT: Bubba: The Cannibal]

✴ You...you're holding his hand?

✴ You're so gentle, your hands are so small, so soft.

✴ He could crush your hands if he wasn't careful, a similar worry to Michael's.

✴ But you were holding his hand!!! Your dainty little hand was in his!!!!

✴ It was a sign you loved him, really loved him!

✴ He starts giggling, he can't help himself. He doesn't even notice how nervous you are, consumed with his own delight.

✴ Pulls you into a really, really tight hug. One of the ones where you have to remind him to be gentle.

✴ He makes an apologetic noise and nuzzles his face into your hair, picking you up bridal style to hold you close.

✴ He's so happy you love him, he loves you just as much. He's so darn lucky to have you.

༉ BONUS :: Ellen Ripley

[PT: Bonus: Ellen Ripley]

AN 2: wifewifewifewifewifewifewife

✴ Damn that's sweet.

✴ Sweet like the feeling of fresh coffee in her veins, like hearing her cat purr against her chest.

✴ And you're so damn cute all nervous like this, it makes her heart sing.

✴ God she's so glad to be trapped in this hellhole with you.

✴ She kisses the back of your hand and runs her thumb over it gently, giving you this look that lets you know you mean the world to her.

✴ And you look at her the same way.

✴ Wordless but full of meaning in such a simple touch. Affection that goes beyond what words could describe.

✴ The other survivors are gagging from how sweet you two are.

Final Notes :: I'm a big butch lesbian so I added my Wife as a bonus because this was a bit of a sausage fest (besides Susie, perfect lil angel baby). It was weird writing romance for Susie tbh bc when I look at her I'm just like "Ah yes, my child." because whenever I play as her I get weirdly protective and if she gets palette stunned it becomes like, a personal offense. That's my fuckign niece dude!!!!! But I know some peeps would love to be romantic with her so I am here to provide. As is the authors duty. If you make it weird I'm shanking you behind a Wendy's.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to rb and follow if you enjoyed!! <3

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