#ALSO i've always loved how he apparently stayed the night there...like he was NOT about to go back home and deal with his family's bullshit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingforstraykids · 1 month

Note

I keep thinking about dilf!Felix like him being your besties dad or something….

-🎀

I swear I've been staring at this for so long, debating if I should do a full fic or just some thoughts. Well, thank my dear Azzy @galaxycatdrawz for this, because you made his thoughts go wild. Basically I just had to transform his whole little plan into a fic. There will be 2nd chapter (including smut) but have fun with this for now.🖤

Finding home in your heart

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader (mention of Minchan | Jisung)

Word Count: 7571

Summary: Felix got cheated on by his wife repeatedly and ends up heartbroken after the discovery. His adoptive daughter, your best friend, tells you the whole story and asks you to move in as you're struggling to find a place. Your only problem; you had a crush on Felix for ages and living with him isn't making it easier...

Warnings/Tags: angst, emotional hurt!comfort, fluff, insecure!lix, domestic shit, baking, cuddles, slowburn (ig?), first kiss, age difference (8 years, it's legal since this fic is for adults, chill out)

PART TWO

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix’s love life had been nothing but a steady stream of predictable days blending into years. He would have never doubted his beautiful wife and would have never second-guessed her love for him. They had gotten married early and soon found out his wife was incapable of carrying his children. So, after some consideration, they adopted a young girl and raised her like their own. She had grown into a smart young woman, and Felix couldn’t be more proud of her. Given the age gap of only ten years he had always been rather close with her and later you, her best friend.

One night he decided to surprise his wife, coming home early as his daughter was staying at yours. What greeted him wasn’t the usual warmth and coziness of his home but the sight of his wife in a certain setting no man wants to find the love of his life in with another man. For a moment, Felix found himself frozen in place, the safe foundation of his life slowly crumbling away beneath his feet. He whispered her name in disbelief, only to find out that this had been going on for years. Felix felt like his whole life shattered to pieces and the betrayal left an ugly taste of bitterness on his lips. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this?

“And then she just left,” your best friend ends her story, and your eyes grow even wider than they have already been.

“You’re kidding?” you ask, shocked.

“Apparently, she said something about how this shit has been going on for years, that she never really loved him, and that she’ll leave until he finds a new place,” she rages on and paces her bedroom angrily. “Oh, and I’m just another burden he talked her into,” she scoffs, and your frown deepens.

“You won’t stay here, right?” you ask cautiously. You can’t imagine she will, but still.

“Oh, hell no. I’ll go with Dad, she can piss off,” she shakes her head and drops onto her mattress. “The perk of being not related to her is that I can push her out of my life for good,” she snorts, and you gently pat her back. “I feel so bad for him,” she sighs.

“It must’ve been a huge shock,” you nod, your heart feeling heavy. Felix has always been kind to you from day one. Whenever your family was struggling, he helped out, even if it was simply by taking you with them to theme parks, the movies, or shopping. Felix was only eight years older than you and ten years older than your best friend, so the older you got, the more he felt like an older friend instead of your best friend’s father. Also, he was stunningly handsome, but that wasn’t relevant right now.

“He’s trying to hide it, but I know how shitty he feels right now,” she tells you worriedly. “I mean, he’s never been with anyone else and-.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” you assure her gently. “He has such a kind heart, I’m sure someone will love him, truly.”

“I will thoroughly check the next person. You’ll have to help me then, go all detective on them,” she smirks, and you agree, laughing.

A gentle knock at the door interrupts you, and Felix opens the door flashing you a tired smile as a greeting before glancing at his daughter. “Channie called, he has a spare place we can have.”

“Just like that?” she asks baffled.

Felix chuckles weakly and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just like that. I told him I’d pay, but Minho insisted they don’t need the place, and it’s all paid off.”

“How convenient,” she smirks and rolls her eyes. “Typical uncle Min,” she grins.

“Yeah,” he laughs and sighs softly. “You think you can get everything ready in the next few days?”

“You really can’t wait to get out of here, huh?” she laughs, and his smile dies, eyes clouding with pain.

“Yeah, I guess,” he nods and clears his throat as his daughter looks at him apologetically. “Well, let me know when you’re hungry, and we can order something,” he announces, putting on a smile and quickly pulling the door closed.

“See?” she whispers. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

You hum gently and pat your best friend’s knee. “Well, I can help you move, I have nothing to do those next few weeks.”

“You’re so sweet,” she giggles and hops up, ripping the door open. “Dad, Y/nnie says she’s gonna help us move our stuff!” she shouts downstairs.

“Lovely,” Felix shouts back halfheartedly and flinches as his daughter slams the door closed again. “Fucks sake, this woman,” he snorts and stands still in the living room for a moment. He chews on his lower lip as the many memories he made in this very room crash over him like a wave, trying to drown him. “You’re such a dumbass,” he whispers to himself.

“No, you’re not, she’s just a massive bitch,” you speak up gently, suddenly standing in the living room with him.

He blinks at you with wide, confused eyes before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Mhm, you could say that. Doesn’t make me any wiser, letting her fool me for the past ten years,” he huffs softly and rubs his face. “I just feel bad for her,” he says, and you know he means your best friend upstairs. “All I always wanted for her was a stable home after everything she went through.”

“Look at her, you did great,” you tell him, and he chuckles weakly.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” he waves you off and blinks at you surprised as you offer him a hug. He accepts it after a short moment of hesitation and bites back a laugh as you pat his back encouragingly.

“You’ll be okay…she’ll never find someone better, so fuck her. It’s her loss,” you tell him, and Felix snorts before letting go of you and grabbing his phone.

“We’ll see,” he hums softly, subtly bringing some distance between the two of you again. “You’re gonna stay for dinner?” he asks, and you gently shake your head.

“I promised Mum I’d be home for dinner today,” you tell him, and he nods gently.

“You need a ride?” he offers, and you wave him off.

“I’ll be fine, promise,” you assure him and exchange your goodbyes.

One week later

You put down the boxes you carried inside and look around with wide eyes. “Wow, Min wasn’t lying. This place is huge.”

“Right? I didn’t quite believe it as well,” your best friend giggles and puts down her boxes as well.

“Why would I lie about that, huh?” Minho asks playfully offended, adding some boxes on the floor next to yours. “You think we’d give your dad and you some shabby place? You think that lowly of us?”

Chan pokes his side, making him squeak and giggles as Minho playfully raises his fists to fight him. “Relax, no one’s calling you a liar, baby.”

“Sure hope so,” he teases and naturally intertwines their hands, pulling Chan with him. “You haven’t seen the view from up here yet,” he announces and waves you after him.

You follow the pair of them onto the huge balcony, and your breath hitches. From up here, you can see parts of the city and the ocean, and still it’s so peaceful up here.

“How’s your dad, kiddo?” Minho asks your best friend after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Worse than he admits,” she answers, and Minho hums gently. “If you ask me, he’s fucking heartbroken and feels worthless. If you ask him, he’s okay and just a little caught up in his thoughts,” she further explains.

“Give him time,” Chan tells her gently and sighs, looking down at the ocean. “Ten years is a lot, you know?”

The door to the balcony opens, and Felix steps outside, laughing at you all. “Seriously? You’re out here enjoying the view while I’m carrying all those boxes?” he asks, and you all start laughing before hurrying back inside to help him.

Once everything is inside, Minho and Chan give you a tour through the house and you wonder what Felix and your friend would do with all this space. The couple soon leaves again to give them some space to settle in.

Your best friend strolls through the house and frowns softly. “You’re alright?” Felix asks her, frowning softly. “I know it’s not home, but we can make it work, it’ll just need some time and-.”

“Dad, home is wherever you are, relax,” she laughs, and Felix nods, stunned, looking adorably touched by her words. “I just…this place is huge.”

“It is,” he nods. “I have no idea what the hell they had planned for this.”

“Nothing useful, as Min put it,” you chime in, and Felix grins at your remark.

“I’ll feel so lonely here if you’re at work,” she speaks up after a moment, and Felix’s face softens.

“Dear, there’ll be a point in your life when you move out and everything. I won’t always be around,” he says, and she glares at him.

“Don’t say shit like that, you’re only ten years older than I am, it’ll take a while,” she points out, and he snorts but gives in, remaining quiet. “Y/nnie, how’s the hunt for a flat going?” she asks.

“I already told you it’s shit,” you sigh softly, not quite picking up on her true intentions behind that question. “It’s either too expensive or so much out of town it’s not exactly convenient.”

“Oh, you’re going to move out?” Felix asks, busying himself with one of the boxes.

“I want to, my parents could use the space for something else,” you nod.

“Dad?” she asks, drawing out the word with a sweet tone.

“What do you want?” he asks, not even looking up.

“She could move in with us,” she says, and you frown at her. Felix looks up, confused, and tilts his head at her. “She can’t find a place, I worry about getting lonely here…you could use some more company as well before you’re fully depressed and-.”

“Will you stop?” he snaps at her. “I’m not depressed, I’m fine besides the fact that I got cheated on after wasting ten years of my life,” he continues and shakes his head at her. “Stop reading into it that much, I’ll start believing you at this point.”

You lower your gaze at the floor and awkwardly shuffle on your feet. “Gosh, relax,” she sighs. “That just proved my point.”

Felix throws the contents of the box back inside and pushes himself up. “I’m getting some fresh air. And yes, you can move in if you want to, it’s not like we’d lack space or whatever,” he says before leaving the two of you.

“Nice one,” you sigh softly.

“What?” she groans and rolls her eyes. “You know I’m right.”

“And that makes it better?” you chuckle, and she huffs softly. “Fine, fine, I’ll go apologize…but would you?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh softly. “I’d feel like I’m intruding,” you argue gently.

“Never,” she shakes her head firmly. “Also, you’re here every day anyway, so nothing changes,” she grins before sighing softly. “Dad?” she shouts, and you roll your eyes at her.

Should you? Move in with your best friend and her heartbroken, conveniently handsome adoptive father? That could only go wrong, right?

You join them on the balcony and sigh softly, meeting your best friend’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

She shouts in joy and pulls you into a tight hug, hopping excitedly. “You’re the best best friend I could’ve ever wished for!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, catching Felix smirking at the two of you.

Three weeks later

You hum to yourself as you make your way from the kitchen to the living room area. Your best friend is staying the night at her boyfriend’s, and Felix is out on Stray Kids duty, as you jokingly call it. So, for now, you have the whole house to yourself. You moved in fully about two weeks ago, and your new room is bigger than you ever dared to imagine. There’s an attached bathroom as well, and your few things look ridiculous, trying to fill up all that space you have now.

You grab your phone and check your messages before scrolling through some news. Refreshing the page, a new article appears on top, and you realize it’s about Felix. Curiously, you click on it, and your eyes widen, realizing it’s about what happened with his wife. You read through it and smile sadly; Felix seems to have tried putting it as respectfully and vague as he could. You don’t support what that woman did for years one bit, but you also know how their fans can get so you’re glad Felix tries to stay neutral in public.

You glance up from your phone as the front door opens downstairs, and Felix comes up the stairs only a little later. Looking at him, you can tell he was crying, and your heart sinks to your stomach, seeing how tired he looks. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow softly as he stops in his tracks as if he just remembered you live here as well. “You’re okay?” you ask softly, and for the first time in weeks, Felix shakes his head.

“Not really, no,” he admits, his voice a little raspy. You can tell he’s fighting back tears, and you gently pat the spot next to you on the sofa. Felix momentarily searches your eyes before moving forward and dropping down on the sofa next to you. “I know it’s my own fault because I took off my wedding ring but I didn’t expect them to ask already,” he tells you quietly and nervously fidgets with his hands. “Chan told me to be honest before she comes up with something that’ll drag me down.”

“I think you’ve handled it quite well,” you tell him gently, and he groans in response.

“Already online, huh?” he sighs, and you hum softly. Felix throws his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling. You can’t help but take in his side profile and let your eyes wander down his neck. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” you ask gently.

“I have to have an explanation for everything as if I’d know why she cheated. Maybe it’s because I’ve been gone often with all our schedules. Maybe she got bored. Maybe she just saw past that facade of fame and sunshine behavior and realized I’m not as lovable as everyone thinks I am,” he huffs, making you frown at him. “Maybe she never loved me in the first place, and I can’t even blame her for that.”

“Stop it now,” you scold him firmly and Felix turns his head, blinking at you. “Have you ever considered that maybe she’s just a massive bitch and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you?”

“Not really, no,” he shakes his head and sits up straight again. “That’s rather unlikely, isn’t it? There’s always a reason people cheat.”

“Sometimes it’s simply stupidity,” you insist. “Not everything is your fault, Felix.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” he asks quietly, and your heart breaks at the desperate glint in his eyes. “Why does it feel like I’m the one who fucked it all up? And why doesn’t she care one bit, and I’m here feeling like complete shit?”

“Because you loved her,” you say quietly and watch his face fall. “She didn’t try to make it right, did she? She didn’t protest when you suggested a divorce.” Felix shakes his head, eyes brimming with tears. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she never loved you for who you truly are. Maybe all she saw was the fame, the money, the places you went to…but how is that your fault?”

“I…I should’ve known,” he says quietly, his lower lip quivering a little.

“You can’t know that shit if they’re good at hiding and pretending. Who knows how long she could’ve kept up that show if you hadn’t come home early that day?” you ask, and Felix avoids your observant gaze, staring down at his hands. “The only thing you’re at fault for is beating yourself up for this and thinking you’re worthless.”

Felix remains quiet and presses his lips together tightly as hot tears run down his cheeks. His hair falls into his face as his head hangs low, and you can only tell as he sniffles softly. You hesitantly reach out for him and rub his back soothingly. Felix whispers an apology and buries his face in his hands, a quiet sob rippling through his body. You don’t know where you get the confidence from, but you move before you can reconsider what you’re about to do. Wrapping your arm around him, you pull him into a warm embrace and gently rub his shoulder. Felix tenses up briefly before he relaxes into your touch, allowing himself the comfort you spend.

It doesn’t last for all too long, and Felix pushes himself off the sofa, messily wiping his cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t-,” he stammers and exhales shakily. “I shouldn’t dump this all on you.”

“I don’t-” you start and shut your mouth as he raises his hand to stop you.

“I know you don’t mind. I know,” he says and shakily wipes his cheek. “That doesn’t make it any better. I appreciate you trying to help, but I’ll go before I start unloading even more nonsense,” he sniffles and flashes you a sad smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome,” you nod gently and watch him leave. Only then do you notice your heart racing in your chest and the wet patch of his tears in your sweater. “So much to keeping boundaries, Y/n,” you scold yourself, rubbing your face tiredly.

Felix closes the door to his room and buries his face in his hands with a soft groan. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers and stands still for a moment. What is he doing, sobbing in his daughter’s best friend’s arms? Is he going insane? Felix closes his eyes and tries to forget how comfortable your hug felt, how good you smelled, and how soothing your presence was to him. “Fuck,” he whispers into the emptiness of his room.

One week later

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you walk down the hallway, clutching your visitor pass. Your best friend asked you to pick up Felix from work tonight because she had to work late and would then stay at her boyfriend's again. Would he think weirdly of you for it? He's been avoiding you a little after that emotional breakdown a week ago, and you can't blame him.

You reach Chan's studio and knock gently, letting yourself in.

“Oh, Y/nnie,” Chan greets you cheerfully.

“Haven't seen you here in a while,” Minho adds curiously.

“Yeah, uh, I have to pick up Felix,” you say, and they frown.

“I thought-”

“No, she's working late and staying at her boyfriend's or something like that,” you shrug your shoulders.

“She asks you to move in so she isn't lonely and leaves all the time,” Minho shakes his head, amused. “Well, at least someone's keeping an eye on Lix, then.”

“Mhm, yeah,” you nod. “Where is he?”

“In the practice room down the hallway. Uh…he's in a shit mood today,” Minho tells you.

“Define shit mood,” you chuckle.

“Everything is shit, nothing works, he's useless,” Chan sighs softly and shakes his head. “We tried.”

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes. “Fine, I'll do my best.”

“Good luck,” Chan giggles.

Only a little later, you open the door to the practice room and slip inside. You frown as you spot Felix stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “I swear, Channie, if you're here to tell me another bad joke that's supposed to make me laugh, I'll snap,” he announces.

You stop next to him and tilt your head at him. “Not Channie,” you say. “What's that supposed to be?” you ask, vaguely waving at his current position.

“It's my new favorite yoga position called utter depression,” he says dryly and throws you a peace sign. “That's I'm a failure, what's your name?”

“Chan wasn't lying,” you nod slowly.

“Did Chan call you? Seriously?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows.

“No. In fact, it was your lovely daughter asking me to come pick you up. She's working late, and then she'll stay over at her boyfriend's.”

“I still can't believe she asked you to move in so she wouldn't be lonely, and now she's barely home,” Felix snorts and groans softly.

“Mhm, you guys are repeating yourselves, Min said the same thing,” you tell him and gently poke his side with your shoe. “What's going on, Mr. utter depression?”

“Nothing, as you can see,” he sighs. “I fucked up during practice today. Minho only didn't call me out for all the mistakes because he felt sorry for me at the time,” he tells you.

“And that led you down the good old road to self-hatred?” you ask, sitting down on the floor next to him.

“Maybe,” he answers vaguely.

“Surely,” you correct him. “Lix?” you ask gently, and he turns his head toward you. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” he shakes his head as his eyes trace your features.

“We could take a walk and grab some food on the way. We don't have to talk or anything. It's just for you to clear your head and empty all that garbage you keep up there,” you tell him, tugging a small smile at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods.

You exchange your goodbyes with Min and Chan, who secretly throw some hearts your way when Felix isn't looking. Idiots.

After that evening, it all got easier again. You didn't talk much that day, but the fresh air, bright lights, and warm food had lightened Felix's mood immensely. Over the following two weeks, you two grew closer, and Felix allowed himself to be more open. With your best friend gone quite frequently, it was often only you and him.

The more time you spent together, the more you realized how ridiculously perfect Felix was. His beautiful brown eyes, soft features adorned by all those sweet freckles, and blond hair falling around his face made your stomach flip. His sweet smile and even prettier laugh made you feel like winning a trophy every time you were the reason for it. He's so kind and polite that it makes your head spin.

Felix can't quite stop himself from looking at you whenever you don't notice. The more time you spend, the more he notices how beautiful you are. How caring and gentle. Your smile brightens his days and he can't fully shake the longing to be in your arms again off. He hasn't felt as comfortable around someone in a while, and there's a lingering worry in the back of his head telling him that he really shouldn't allow himself to fall for you. It only gets worse watching you doing the most mundane things and wishing that you wouldn't leave again.

Another two weeks later your best friend announces she'll be abroad for a holiday with her boyfriend for two weeks. Two weeks. It'll only be Felix and you for fourteen days. That thought wasn't helping your anxious heart, trying not to fall for him at all.

You decided to make the best out of it and forget about your worries. Seeing Felix smile again was all that counted.

The first morning, Felix tiredly strolls down the hallway from his room and stops in his tracks when he sees you at the stove. A sweet scent lingers in the kitchen, and he realizes you're making pancakes for breakfast. His heart picks up pace, and he takes a deep breath, reminding himself to act normal. “Morning,” he says, not knowing that his even deeper morning voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Good morning,” you smile at him, bright as ever. He has to look somewhere else to stop himself from blushing. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” you tell him, and he hums softly.

Felix sits down at the kitchen island and watches you thoughtfully. It's ridiculous how used to your presence he got over the past few weeks. Almost as if he couldn't imagine it any other way anymore. “Do you have any plans for today?” he asks and you shake your head as you put the pancakes on a big plate.

“Why?” you ask curiously and turn off the stove.

“Uh, I was thinking about painting her room since she wanted a new color so badly…I was wondering if you'd like to help?” he asks nervously.

You put down the plate and nod. “Sure, why not?”

Felix flashes you a sweet smile and thanks you as you hand him a plate with some pancakes. They're so fluffy they almost melt on his tongue, and he has trouble biting back a moan. “Oh, they're amazing,” he tells you and notices the subtle blush settling on your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you smile almost shyly.

Seriously, can't you give him a break?

After breakfast, Felix takes a quick shower, and you put on some clothes that could be ruined by the paint. You meet again in your best friend's room, and you smile at how soft Felix looks in a pair of gray sweatpants and a wide sweater. You pull all the furniture away from the walls, covering everything up before Felix shows you how to apply the paint properly. In the beginning, you're both quietly working and it feels peaceful, just focusing on painting for now. Then Felix starts talking, trying to kill the silence. “I signed the divorce papers yesterday,” he says casually, and you need a moment to figure out how to answer.

“Congratulations?” you chuckle, and he laughs, realizing how out of pocket this has been.

“Sorry, that was pretty random,” he apologizes.

“No, it's fine. I'm glad you did,” you say, and he glances at you, making you ramble on quickly. “I mean, it's the right thing to do. Did you settle on anything? Does she demand stuff?”

“If she doesn't want my legal team to be less nice about the reason we're getting a divorce than I was, then she won't,” he tells you and sighs softly. “She has the old house, and I don't have to pay her anything. I'm glad when we're done with the whole process,” he admits tiredly.

“I bet you are,” you nod gently. “You deserve some peace after everything,” you say, and he hums softly, pressing his lips together briefly. “We can stop talking about it,” you assure him gently, and Felix nods thankfully.

“We need more paint,” he states.

“Well, we should let this dry anyway for today,” you nod and flash him a gentle smile. “We could go buy some more and then call it a day?”

“Sounds good,” he nods, rubbing his face tiredly, and turns toward you fully now.

“You've got some paint on your cheek,” you say, and he blindly reaches out to wipe it off. He doesn't quite get it and you step in front of him, reaching out for him. “Let me help,” you say and gently rub your thumb over his cheek, wiping the still fresh paint off.

Felix freezes in place, staring at you as you do so. He feels like the world stops for a moment but then your soft touch is already gone again. He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in and follows you outside. Fucks sake.

You wander through the store next to him and you end up buying some more stuff to decorate the house a little more. Felix's phone rings and you can tell it's Chan by the way his face lights up. He nudges your side after a moment. “You're hungry?”

“I could eat,” you nod.

“Min and Chan ask if we wanna stop by,” he tells you, and you shrug your shoulders.

“Sure, why not?”

Only shortly after, you reach their house, and your eyes widen, spotting the two small kittens on the carpet. “Oh, you have new ones?” you ask excitedly and Minho looks at you as if he's going to hit you.

“Or not?” you ask, chuckling.

Chan gently pokes his cheek and grins at you. “Yeah, we got them like a week ago,” he nods, and you crouch down as they make their way over.

“Can I hold them?” you ask, looking at Minho, and his face softens.

“If they let you,” he nods and tells you to sit down on the floor.

He picks up the first one and gently hands it over to you, making sure you hold it right. “He's usually very calm, so if you don't move too quickly, you should be fine,” he tells you and sits down, grabbing the second one. “She's a little rascal,” he smirks and gently scratches her head.

“They're so tiny,” you say, amazed.

“Here, he loves those,” Chan says, handing you a little treat.

You hold out your hand for the kitten, and he doesn't waste much time. You giggle at his tiny tongue licking over your palm and beam at Minho excitedly. Chan passes Minho and gently runs his hand through his hair mindlessly. Minho smiles softly and looks up at him so full of love you can't help but wish you'd find someone you shared the same type of deep love with. “Wanna help me set the table, Lix?” he asks, and Felix hums, following him, not after a quick glance in your direction to make sure you're alright.

Soon after, you're all gathered around the table, and you all thank Minho for cooking. Chan glances at Felix after a while and seems to debate whether he should ask what's going through his head. “Lix?” he asks, and his friend turns toward him. “How are you holding up?”

“I'm fine,” he smiles tiredly, and you know the question starts to bother him by now.

“You said that from day one,” Minho chuckles and tilts his head at him.

“No, I am. I signed the papers yesterday and then soon it'll all be over,” he explains.

“Have you met anyone new?” Minho asks curiously. “I mean, it's been almost two months.”

“Mhm, after ten years of a fake marriage. I still have time, don't you think?” he asks sourly.

Chan steps in, trying to ease the mood. “We're just worried about you getting lonely, Lix,” he tells him.

“I'd rather be lonely than that,” he says and rolls his eyes at them. “Not everyone finds the one and lives happily ever after from day one on,” he says, looking at the two of them.

“That's hardly realistic, nothing was perfect from day one,” Minho shakes his head.

“Not really, no,” Chan snorts and winks at him.

“Well, you're not me, so…,” Felix says quietly, and the mood changes.

“Meaning?” Minho asks patiently, even though you can tell he’d rather punch some sense into him.

Felix puts down his chopsticks and sighs heavily. “I'm way too emotional, I'm too shy to approach anyone or initiate anything further, I mess up stuff constantly and-.”

“Will you stop?” you cut him off, and everyone looks at you as if they're remembering you're still here. “You keep on talking shit about yourself, and you don't even realize you're letting her win.”

“I'm not letting her—” he frowns. Chan is about to speak up, but Minho stops him, resting his hand on his.

“Yes, you are. She used you for years, and you're still letting her by making it all your fault. As if she had no other choice but to go off and fuck around with whoever she found moderately fuckable,” you say, and he blinks at you, stunned as Chan chokes on his breath. “You're talented at what you do, you're hardworking, and you're one of the most caring people I know. You didn't have to, but you always made me feel at home when I visited your daughter. You haven't done any differently since I moved in, and as long as you aren't talking shit about yourself, you're pretty funny. And-.”

“Y/nnie,” he says softly, and it's the first time he's called you that. “Eat up; it's going to get cold.”

You quickly shut your mouth, ears burning up as you realize you've just been pretty open in front of Minho and Chan. “Yeah, okay, you better shut up then…respectfully.”

“Message received,” he smiles gently.

Minho raises his eyebrows and glances at Chan before moving his eyes between the two of you. Chan frowns before his eyes widen, and he squints at him. Minho widens his eyes and puts on a little passive aggressively encouraging smile, signaling him that, yes, he is VERY right about this.

“You can stop the eye fuckery over there, I'll get sick,” Felix calls them out, and you frown softly at Minho's mischievous grin.

“Y/n, what about you?” Minho asks curiously.

“You're playing cupid as a side business, or what is this?” you ask right back.

“Simply interested,” he gives back.

“I'm single if you must know so badly, and no, my self-esteem isn't drowning as much as Lix’s,” you say, and Felix pokes your side, protesting softly.

Chan watches you quietly before glancing at his husband and humming softly. Minho simply smirks.

Later, when it's time to leave, you hold your hand out for Felix, and he tilts his head at you questioningly. “Keys, please,” you smile.

“Huh?” he asks, amused.

“You had two drinks, I didn't have any, and I'm driving,” you tell him, stretching your hand out once more.

“Listen to her, Yongbokie,” Minho tells him, and Felix gives in and hands you the keys.

“That was really sweet,” Felix says, almost too quiet to hear.

“The kittens?” you giggle.

“Mhm, yeah, they too,” he nods and glances over at you. “I meant what you said…I uh... thanks.”

“Oh,” you nod and feel your heart warming at the softness in his eyes. “I meant it.”

“I know,” he whispers and can barely meet your eyes.

“You should give yourself more credit. Try seeing yourself through the eyes of the people you mean something to from time to time,” you say, parking the car in front of the house.

Felix looks at you, a little stunned. “I mean something to you?” he asks softly.

“Well, of course you do, Lixie,” you smile and lean over, brushing his hair back for him.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes traveling down to your lips before he can fight it.

“Mhm,” you hum softly and search his eyes. Suddenly, you move forward and your lips meet in a soft kiss that has him melting in his seat. He reaches up to bury his hand into your hair and-.

“Felix? Felix, wake up,” you say gently.

“Huh?” he asks confused.

“Wake up, Lix, come on,” you say softly, daring to brush a loose strand from his face. “Come on, let's get you upstairs.”

Felix blinks at you drowsily and needs a moment to realize he's been dreaming—dreaming of kissing you. His face burns up red with embarrassment as your gentle eyes meet his, and he shoots out of his seat. “Yeah, sorry,” he stammers, and you watch him a little confused.

“You're okay?” you ask, closing the door for him.

“Sure, why wouldn't I be?” he asks, laughing nervously. Don't look at the lips. Don't.

“Man, you're weird when you get woken up,” you shake your head and unlock the front door, letting him in. Felix stumbles taking off his shoes, making you laugh. “Is alcohol having such an effect on you?”

“Mhm, yeah,” he lies, spotting his lifeline.

“Well, let's get you to bed then,” you say and gently pat his back, shoving him inside.

“I'll make it on my own, thank you,” he quickly says and wishes you a good night. He throws himself face forward onto his bed and groans into his blanket. “Fuck, no, Lix, you can't.” He turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, brushing his fingers over his lips. Groaning softly, he fumbles for his phone; he needs some clarity now.

“It's late, what the fuck, mate?”

“Jisungie, I fucked up,” Felix whines softly.

“Oh, please don't tell me you're drunk,” Jisung sighs softly. “Do I have to pick you up somewhere?”

“No,” he quickly assures him. “I just…there's this certain someone I can't stop thinking about, and…Ji, it's wrong!”

“I don't like the sound of this,” he states calmly. “Go on.”

And Felix does, spilling all his hurt, feelings of emptiness, and worthlessness. Telling him how you mend his heart, fill his entire being with happiness, and make him feel loveable. He confesses how he can't stop thinking about you, worrying how messed up this could get.

Jisung lets him ramble on and nods gently once he's done. “That's fucked up, mate.”

“I know,” he whispers.

“No, I don't think you know how bad that bitch fucked you up,” Jisung says, and Felix is too stunned to speak for a second. “Fucks sake, Lix! Where's my pretty boy getting all the girls, huh? When did you get all shy and scared? Did she fuck up your self-esteem that badly?”

“Ji, you're missing the point here,” he insists. “Everyone would think I'm using her, she's eight years younger. They'll make her a victim and-.”

“Lix,” he cuts him off firmly. “I'm that victim you're describing here, you do know that, right? My hubby is ten years older, Hyune’s wife is six years younger, and no one gives a fuck,” he tells him. “The thing you really can't take is the fact that she's your daughter's best friend.”

“That surely doesn't help,” he groans.

“Well, technically-.”

“She's my daughter, you can try and twist this how you want,” he shakes his head. “And she'll hate me if I act upon my feelings for Y/n.”

“All she wanted was for you to be happy. Why not with Y/nnie?” he asks gently. “Listen, buddy, you gotta figure out what you really want and then act accordingly. Stop sending her signals if you don't want this to evolve into something more.”

“I know,” he sighs softly. Fuck.

“Can you get the eggs?” you ask him as you pour some sugar into a bowl, weighing its content as you do.

“Sure,” Felix nods and his hand rests on your lower back for a brief moment, notifying you of him standing behind you to stop you from bumping into him.

You swallow softly at the lingering touch, and it's already gone again before you can't think much of it. Felix got home from the studio about an hour ago, and you two decided to surprise your best friend with a cake for her birthday tomorrow. At least she had planned to come back again for it. After quickly buying the ingredients, you two got busy in the kitchen. He's unusually clumsy, your hands brushed against each other four times already since you've started and you already bumped heads, both wanting to grab something off the floor he dropped. The brief touches and his soft eyes combined with that shy smile are slowly driving you insane.

Once you're all done you put it in the oven and set a timer, cleaning up the kitchen for now. You'll still need a few things for the icing later but you get rid of most of the mess for now. After loading the dishwasher, the 25 minutes are over, and Felix carefully takes it out. You leave it there to cool and throw yourself on the sofa.

Felix joins you and turns on the TV, putting on the next episode of the series you've recently started watching together. After a while, your head slowly drops onto his shoulder and it takes him a moment to realize you fell asleep. He cautiously wraps his arm around you to make you more comfortable and lets you rest against his chest. He tries not to think too much of it and chews on his lower lip nervously as he tries to pay attention to the screen.

As much as he tries to fight it, he's exhausted from their intense practice today, and his eyes grow heavier with every minute. It doesn't take long and he falls asleep as well, getting more comfortable and dragging you down with him in his sleep.

You wake up in his arms, your head resting on his chest. Your eyes widen in shock, and you fight the urge to jump up and get as far away from him as possible. You barely dare to lift your head. Glancing down at him, your heart skips a beat at how soft and vulnerable he looks in his sleep. His chest is slowly rising and falling, his hair hangs into his face and he looks so soft it makes you want to squish his cheeks. You admire the beautiful freckles painting his face as the fading sun caresses his golden skin. Gosh, he's pretty.

He moves in his sleep, tightening his grip around you and rolling you both onto your sides. Burying his face in your neck, he lets out a content sigh and pulls you in close. You bite your lip and curse yourself for wanting this so badly. You should really wake him up…but you couldn't. Not when he had a long day and finally got some rest. Not when he looked this content and peaceful. You couldn't.

You timidly rest your chin on his fluffy hair and wait for a moment, but he doesn't seem to mind. Carefully, you fondle his back and rest your hand between his shoulder blades. He doesn't stir one bit, and you decide to try sleeping some more as well.

You wake up again when he stretches in your arms, pulling back with a soft groan. Felix squints at you drowsily before he slowly picks up on your current situation. A blush creeps up his neck and colors his cheeks and ears. He pulls away and rolls onto his back with a soft sound, rubbing his face tiredly. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“For what?” you ask gently.

“Uh…this,” he awkwardly gestures between the two of you. “I uh…I tend to get cuddly when I fall asleep. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or-.”

“You didn't,” you say firmly, and he slowly glances at you.

“No?” he asks quietly.

“Not at all,” you assure him, and he hums gently in response. “You seemed like you needed it, so I let you sleep a little longer.”

“Oh,” he nods dumbly and searches your eyes timidly. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” you nod and smile at him. “I think we can finish the cake by now.”

“Probably,” he laughs and sits up.

The pair of you soon gets busy in the kitchen again and Felix turns on the mixer to finish the icing for the cake. It's a little too fast, and some of it lands on his sweater. “Fucks sake,” he curses softly before slowing it down.

You laugh at him, and he turns to you, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, you got some on your face,” you giggle and step in front of him. You cup his face gently with one hand, rubbing your other thumb across the icing on his forehead. “Keep still, Lixie,” you say and don't quite notice his lips parting at the new nickname. You move further down, wiping the bits on his cheek off, and only then you meet his eyes. They're wide and filled with thousands of questions and insecurities. “You're okay?” you ask worriedly.

Felix blinks at you before very slowly shaking his head. “I'm not okay,” he says, and you turn off the mixer, bathing the room in silence.

“What's wrong?” you ask and want to pull your hand off his face, but his hand wraps around your wrist keeping you there.

“I…,” he trails off, sinking deeper into your eyes, and you can see the sudden longing in them. It's pure and innocent, making you all dizzy the longer you look at him. “You're driving me nuts,” he confesses.

“Breathe,” you tell him before experimentally brushing your thumb over his lips. He exhales shuddery, eyes fluttering close at your touch. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“What?” he squeaks, eyes snapping back open.

“You heard me,” you say and tilt your head at him. “Can I?” Felix gulps before nodding timidly. You close the distance between the two of you, and your lips brush against his. A soft, quiet sound escapes him and then you're cupping his face and kissing him. Felix melts into the kiss, body searching yours as he grips your waist and stumbles a little, shoving you against the kitchen counter. He pulls back only to catch his breath and presses his forehead against yours. “You're okay?” you ask again. This time, he nods.

“Yeah,” he whispers with a soft smile. “I'm okay...”

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaa-sia @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits @mellhwang @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @palindrome969 @harshaaaaa

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owliellder · 9 months

Text

All Pent Up

MDNI 18+

Puppy Hybrid! Leon Kennedy x afab! Reader

Word count: 3.85k

Warnings: Porn w/ plot, unprotected p in v (stay safe), no use of y/n, spanking, crying, slight ass-play.

Description: After a long night at work, you come home to a very pent up Leon. A trip to the park to help with that energy turns a little sour.

Tags: Submissive! Leon, neck biting/marking, begging, cunnilingus, knotting, mommy kink, fluff, near illegal amounts of praise AND aftercare, a lovely creampie to end the morning

Not proofread. I am once again sat here bored at work. More self indulgence since I work the same kind of job aforementioned in this lmao.

Also VERY much inspired by @abp0rns art of puppy Leon, specifically the two I put below the crop. Please check out their art they gotta be one of my favorite doodlers out there.

Edit: cross posted onto Ao3 if it's easier for you to read there (cause it is for me)

It had been an incredibly boring night at work for you. Working graveyard at a gatehouse meant you did practically nothing. Easy money, sure, but you can only watch so many movies and doodle so much before it becomes redundant.

The only thing keeping you going was making sure your puppy, Leon, stayed happy and comfortable. You'd found him at the shelter a few months back, and though you never considered yourself to be a hybrid kinda person, Leon was just too damn cute at that shelter.

After adopting the hybrid, you quickly fell into a nice afterwork routine; come home, get jumped by Leon, make breakfast while he asked a plethora of questions about your night and made sure you knew just how much he missed you by licking and slobbering all over you. He was the sweetest boy, but man was he excitable.

Some mornings, you'd come home a bit more awake than others. It was random and you're not sure what made that so, but today was apparently one of those days.

"-sosososo glad you're home, mommy! I've been so lonely and bored without you!" Leon happily talked on after you'd walked through the door, his golden fur covered tail thumping loudly against the back of the couch. You remained quiet as you let him ramble, reaching up to pet through his messy bedhead with a smile. "I chewed on my toys, broke one of the squeakers though, but you've gotten me plenty of other toys for me to play with!! I really like this fluffy red pig you got me-!"

He continued to talk loudly about everything he did after you left for work only 8 hours prior, running around to grab and show you his chewed up toy and his favorite toy, tail continuing to wag avidly all the while.

"Alright, alright.. settle down, Leon.." You spoke up, cutting off his talk about laying in your bed so you could take a moment to shed your work clothes in favor of some more comfortable lounge wear; an old, faded graphic tee and a pair of soft sweatpants.

The hybrid followed you throughout the apartment while continuing to ramble, albeit a lot quieter now. Clearly Leon had a lot of energy this morning, which wasn't unusual by any means, but since you weren't all that tired this morning you decided that a trip to the dog park would be a good way for him to get some much needed exercise and enrichment.

After making breakfast, you dressed your puppy in a cozy outfit since it was always little chilly in the mornings where you lived, damn cold desert. You only had to reach for the leash for him to start jumping and yapping enthusiastically, making it rather difficult to hook it onto his collar.

You decided to stay in your comfy clothes, seeing as it would keep you warm enough until the sun warmed the air outside.

"Do you think Chris will be there?! Can you text his owner?? Who else is gonna be there?! I can smell the park from here!-" Leon rambled excitedly as he tugged you along to the park, smelling every bush and tree the two of you passed thoroughly. His tail never stopped wagging, those soft floppy ears perked forwards as he moved his head every which way, focusing in on every movement and sound while beelining to the park. He knew the way there, the leash was just to make sure you didn't get lost.

The air was cool the, sun beginning to warm you up. It was starting to bring out your exhaustion, but you wanted Leon to get at least half an hour of playtime in so he wouldn't bug you while you slept later. The thought alone made it easy for you to power through that brain fog that threatened to settle in.

You and Leon walked across the street once the tall chainlink fence that bordered the dog park was in view, the Golden Retriever hybrid practically dragging you to the other side of the street as his excitement grew. There were always other hybrids out early in the morning, the cool mornings were nicer for walks compared to the hot afternoons, at least in your opinion.

Leon was rubbing himself along the side of the fence, sniffing with a large goofy smile on his face. He had playmates that were normally here around this time, namely Chris, a German Shepard hybrid. Though Chris was a little bigger than Leon, they always played nicely, never having gotten into any sort of scuffle.

Chris was quick to notice Leon, running up to the fence so he could sniff him. They rapidly got each other riled up, so the moment you made it to the gate you unhooked the leash from Leon's collar. This wasn't so he didn't get choked out when he launched into the park, no, it was because the last time you forgot to unhook his leash first, you were yanked face first into soggy grass and mud.

The second you unlatched the gate, Leon pushed it open. He sprinted into the grassy park, Chris not far behind before tackling the smaller hybrid with a playful growl. The two roughhoused, chased each other, and played tug-of-war with a stick Chris had found.

You decided to sit on a bench not too far from where the boys played, looking up from your phone every minute or so to make sure their play didn't turn ugly.

Only 30 minutes had gone by before- "Mommy! Mommy!" Leon shouted from across the park, prompting you to look up from your phone. It only took a moment for your eyes to nearly bulge out of your head when you spotted a now brown Leon. His tail wagged, slapping loudly against the thick puddle of mud he was laying sideways in. "Looklooklook! Chris and I found a ball!" he yelled with a grin, Chris holding up the muddy ball high in the air so you could see it.

You sat there dumbfounded for a brief moment before letting your head fall back, breathing in and letting out a deep sigh as your eyes closed. You tilted your head forwards again, letting your eyes open slowly as your annoyance showed clear on your face.

Your puppy could see your expression change even from where he was, his ears drooping more than they were as the mud had weighed them down a bit. Seems like playtime was over.

Chris' owner wasn't all that happy either, walking over to the filthy hybrids only a few seconds sooner than you did. You pulled Leon from the mud by the collar since he seemed a bit stuck, glaring weakly at the now cowering puppy.

"Leon is always getting Chris into some sort of mess." Chris' owner huffed out, clearly irritated with the situation. You frowned, running your free hand over your face with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Leon just seems to really like the mud lately. I can't help that Chris follows, but I'll try to keep Leon from the mud." You didn't really care for someone implying your Golden Retriever puppy was a bad dog, but the idea of confrontation mixed with your ever-growing exhaustion was enough to have you just let it go.

After apologizing again, you let Leon shake off the excess mud from his body before hooking the leash to his collar once more, beginning to pull him towards the gate. He was very resistant to leaving, whining and whimpering something fierce. "I'm sorry! ImsorryImsorry! Please I'll be good! Let me stay a little longer mommy! Please I'm sorry! Mommy!"

As pitiful as he sounded, you now had to squeeze a thorough bath in for the hybrid before you were even able to think about sleeping. You continued to drag him along as he fought against you, crying out softly as you finally got him through the gate, closing it before he could run back through.

Your exhaustion was making you irritable, and having to fight to get Leon back home was enough to make you angry. It got even worse when he growled at you.

You stopped walking, the entrance to your apartment building only a few feet away. Turning around to face him, he immediately shrunk down at your furious glare. "Bad boy, Leon." Your voice was harsh, yet also so calm, it scared him. He hated being a bad boy, he never wanted to hear those words together again.

After you started walking again, he followed obediently, staying silent all the way into your apartment. He stood stiffly by the front door once you closed it, watching you stomp away. The puppy was on the verge of tears, his muddy tail tucked between his legs and his ears flat against his head.

Leon's bottom lip trembled the longer he couldn't see you, his ears twitching a bit as he picked up on the sound of the bath faucet turning on. His hands were clasped in front of his legs, head down in shame.

"Leon!" You called out from the bathroom, your tone still laced with irritation, he could definitely tell that much. The hybrid quickly shuffled to the bathroom, trying his best not to get clumps of dried up mud on the carpet along the way.

Leon stood in the bathroom doorway before you gently dragged him in, making silent work of his clothes that were absolutely caked in mud. He knew what to do afterwards, quietly seating himself in the bath, shoulders slumped. The bath was silent except for Leon's weak attempts to apologize, his voice faltering every time once he looked at your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you just looked so disinterested.

After the bath, you shooed the puppy off with a towel draped over his shoulders, lazily washing off his collar in the dirty bath water before unplugging the tub.

Leon sat in the living room, drying himself off as best as he could with the towel. Even after, he shook himself off on instinct, the towel left discarded on the floor. He had sat himself on the couch, still slouched with a strong pout on his face.

He knew he was in trouble. His stomach sank when you walked out and stood in front of him with that same irritated look. You then walked and sat next to him on the left. "Lay across my lap, Leon."

The Golden Retriever hybrid whimpered, though he did as he was told, laying himself so his abdomen was laying on your lap, his tail still tucked between his legs. He yipped when you grabbed the base of his damp tail with your left hand, roughly untucking it so you could get a clear view of his ass. "Look at me, Leon."

He turned his head and tilted it back slightly so he could look up at you, his eyes sad and watery. He didn't have anything to say for himself. "You growled at me. You've never growled at me before." You sounded upset, and you were. You didn't want to punish your sweet boy, but him growling at you for something so insignificant deeply bothered you.

Sighing, you pulled his tail up away from his ass even further, grip tightening on it as you felt him try and tuck it back between his legs again. Wordlessly, you drew your other hand back, a sharp smack along with a cry from Leon ringing out in the quiet apartment. You hated having to do this, but he needed to learn.

A few harsh spanks later and the hybrid's ass was bright red and sore, tears spilling down his face as he sobbed out barely comprehensible apologizes in between loud cries every time you brought your hand down on his tender behind. His hands gripped the couch cushion tightly, those pitiful sobs of his tugging at your heart.

Once you feel Leon'd learned his lesson, you gently ran your hand along both his ass cheeks, soothing the hot and red skin while your other hand caressed the base of his tail. You waited until his crying quieted to talk to him again, listening to him sniffle wetly as you let go of his tail to wipe away his snot and tears.

"Okay, okay... there you go, sweet boy. All done. I'm all done..." you whispered to the whimpering puppy hybrid in your lap, shifting your body sideways so he could climb up and lay his head against your chest. You combed your fingers through his hair with one hand while the other stroked the side of his face, clearing the few stray tears that continued to fall.

Leon buried his face into your chest, hiccuping out muffled apologies as he brought his hands up to wrap around you. "I'm sorry mommy. So-.. sososo sorry... Didn't mean to, mommy..."

As he trembled against you, you couldn't help but feel terrible for punishing him that way. He'd never been bad before, the punishment really shouldn't have been so harsh..

You waited until he quieted to speak up again, tilting your head to the side slightly so you could see his face a little better. "...you took that so well, Leon. Such a good boy for mommy, huh?" Despite the suggestive undertone, you made sure to talk softly, careful not to upset the delicate puppy on your chest.

He lifted his head up slightly, nodding weakly as his eyes turned glassy once more. "Please.. I'll-I'll be a good boy for you m-mommy. I'm sorry- I'm so so sorry mommy- I didn't mean to growl- ImsorryImsorryIm-"

You shushed him, running your hand from the side of his face up through his hair as he began to cry again. "You're a good boy, Leon. I forgive you, baby.."

All Leon wanted to do was make this right. He never wanted to be a bad boy again. He hated the way you spoke to him, the way you had looked at him. It was so scary, he wasn't a bad boy, no, he wasn't.

His mind was flooded with everything he could possibly do to make it up to you, tears falling onto your shirt as he pulled himself up off of you. He crawled backwards and sat back on his haunches, giving you a wary look as he tucked his fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Oh, Leon, sweetheart, you don't have to-" "Please..." Leon's meek voice cut you off, making you pause for a moment before nodding with a smile. His hands trembled as he pulled your sweatpants down, taking your panties with them. The hybrid hiccuped again before bringing his head down between your thighs, putting your legs over his shoulders as he cautiously placed his hands onto the points of your hips

It only took a second before he shoved his face into your cunt, whimpering at your smell and taste as he licked between your folds. You gasped, feeling his tongue eagerly lap up your slick as it leaked out of you, his low whimpers vibrating deliciously against you. "Leon~... oh~.. easy, boy..."

You reached a hand down to gently stroke his hair, attempting to get the puppy hybrid to calm down a bit still. He was obviously so eager to please, though he was still shaken up by the punishment; tears falling from his eyes, quiet sobs muffled by your pussy, eyes closed, and cheeks flushed a beautiful pink. His tail had started to wag again and you were relieved to see it sway slowly. You just wanted to see your puppy happy and excitable again like he always was.

Leon continued to lap at your cunt, keeping himself firmly buried in it. His breathing was a bit shaky but you just let him do what he needed to do, reaching your hand to the right a bit so you could stroke one of his soft floppy ears. He sighed at the feeling, his tail wagging a little faster.

"That's a good boy, Leon~... god- such a good boy for his mommy.." You praised the hybrid as he worked his mouth on you, the praise causing him to whine into your cunt. His eyes peaked open, looking up at you as small tears fell from them. "Good boy~..." You ran your hand down to stroke your thumb between his eyes, prompting him to close them again with a sigh.

Your words encouraged him further, sucking at your clit when his tongue wasn't buried inside of you. The puppy hybrid licked all around, making sure none of your sweet slick was left to waste. He eased his grip on your hips, partially worried he would hurt you, but mostly cause he adored the way you writhed when you drew close to your orgasm. He relished in how you pulled his head impossibly closer, practically grinding against his face, using him. What a good boy he was.

Leon was in heaven when you came, whimpering into your cunt as you gushed against his face. He made sure to lick up everything he could, even dipping down to your ass for a minute, tongue flat against the puckered hole. He'd be mad if he saw the couch got some of your juices.

After a moment, he pulled his head away, resting the side of his slick covered face against your thigh as he looked up at you with those puppy-dog eyes that you just couldn't resist. You knew what he wanted, and who were you to deny him?

"My good boy wanna fuck his mommy? Show his mommy what a good boy he is?" You whispered, to which he eagerly nodded in response, his ears perking up. You could hear his tail thump lazily against the back cushion of the couch, all the while watching him lick his lips. "I-I'll be a good boy for mommy. I'm a good boy-..good boy for mommy.." he mumbled quietly, hoisting himself up onto his haunches again after carefully laying your legs down off his shoulders. His thick cock was leaking pre-cum, flushed red at the tip while his knot was fully swollen. It was hard to look away.

Leon continued to mumble to himself, almost like he was trying to convince himself that he was a good boy. His breathing was still shaky as he watched you flip over, your ass up in the air while you rested your elbows on the armrest of the couch.

The poor thing was practically drooling at the sight of you, frozen in place, just staring at your glistening pussy. Your voice snapped him out of his trance, a hushed "Pretty boy..." causing him to lurch forward and mount you without further hesitation.

You cried out as he shoved his cock into you halfway, stopping only to grab the skin right above your collarbone with his teeth. He made sure he was positioned properly, shifting slightly before pushing his throbbing dick all the way. He whined at the way your slick walls gripped him, his knot pressed firmly against the outside of your cunt.

Leon's teeth broke skin as he began to piston in and out of you. He was drooling, whimpering, moaning, and his tail was wagging so fast. He loved the way his mommy felt, gripping his so tightly, sucking his thick cock in.

His let go of your skin to lick at gently, which was a stark contrast to his fast and rough thrusts. "So sorry mommy- sososo sorry.. never growl at you again- ah~..! I-I'll be mommy's good-.. good boy.."

The hybrid panted next to your ear, reaching his hands up and under your loose shirt to grip and massage your breasts. His fingers pinched and tugged at your sensitive nipples, causing you to moan loudly. You could feel every bit of his cock as he slammed it into you over and over again, the tip kissing your cervix which made you hiss at the slight pain it caused.

"Gonna- hnghh~.. gonna fill mommy up.. gonna be mommy's best boy again..." Leon whined, tilting his head to the side so he could nip at your neck, kissing and licking under your jaw. He sucked numerous hickeys down your neck, making quick work of the other side as well. He wanted you to remember how good he was for you, how much he was willing to do to make things better, what a good boy he was for you.

It didn't take long for him to near his own orgasm, his chin resting over your shoulder as his hands had worked their way back to your hips. He was so close; the sounds of your moans, the sinful way your pussy squelched with slick as he fucked into you, your smell, the lingering taste of you on his tongue, everything was just so overwhelming.

The puppy hybrid didn't have the words to give you warning, only a long drawn out whine as his hips stuttered forward, knot stretching you open. You came again from the feeling, barely being able to clench around his knot. It was just so big.

With his cum pumping into you, you could only groan pleasantly at the feeling of being so full, his knot having basically plugged you to the point that none of it could escape.

You could partially register Leon running his hands up and down your body, anywhere he could reach in his position, bunching up your shirt in the process. His large hands felt nice, helping you come down from your high. He was whispering something, you couldn't make out what, but it was probably the same thing he'd been spewing before.

After Leon was able to pull out of you, you made sure to reassure him over and over that he was your good boy, and he'd always be your good boy.

You made him a little snack once you'd cleaned yourself and him up, seeing as the park and your at-home playtime had influenced his appetite quite a bit. You loved to see him happy again; those beautiful blue eyes crinkled with a smile as that fluffy tail of his wagged.

Your body finally realized how tired it was once more, your brain catching up with that as well. You waved Leon, who was elated to follow you, into your room, practically bounding in like a deer. He begged to lay the way you two did on the couch, and again, who were you to deny him?

You laid back, head on your pillow as Leon nestled himself on top of you. He laid his head on your chest, turning his head to the left as he rested his arms on either side of you, his hands just barely tucked up under your pillow after pulling the blankets up over the both of you.

"You're the greatest boy anyone could ask for, Leon. Always taking such good care of me.." you whispered as his eyes closed, his tail going from a lazy wag to a stop as he fell asleep.

"I love you, my sweet boy.."

#baby baby boy #love puppy leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut #puppy leon kennedy

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randombush3 · 14 days

Text

a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.

“I am always on your side.”

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

…

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.

And… you, apparently.

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.

“Of course.”

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”

“Maybe she only likes men.”

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”

…

You are more than a little confused.

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”

“I cried for months.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.

Do you regret it?

It’s unclear.

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.

There are many reasons why you go out with him.

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.

He’s not Ona. You know that.

That's the whole point.

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.

But you just… don’t.

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.

It won’t. (It does.)

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”

It’s not true.

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”

“Why?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.

She picks up.

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

“Are you back at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.

“Need me to show you around the city?”

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?

…

Your visit goes very well.

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?”

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.

“Who do you care about, then?”

“You.”

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”

Ona blushes.

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.

And that’s when she whispers it.

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.

It has taken years but it does not matter.

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

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milkywaydrabbles · 8 months

Note

geto and 39? :>

A/N: foaming at the mouth I love Geto sm. I'm not sure if this was quite enough body worship but also I feel like he wouldn't be that obvious with it, especially after his defection and leading up to the night of 100 curses. But I am a FIRM believer he would try to baby trap. Hope you like it mwuah

CW: riding, pet names, baby trapping

Body worship x Geto Suguru

"A-ah, Geto-Sama!" Thrust. "Please, beautiful." Thrust. "I thought I asked you to call me Suguru when we're alone." Thrust.

It had been a few months since you and Geto had met each other. You, an apparent normal human being who has been saying what you thought to be ghosts for your entire life. You had ignored them the best you could, being in and out of psychiatric hospitals because of your bouts of fear with the paranormal. Society had shunned you for your "insanity". But you knew they were there, even if you were the only one who saw them. Eventually, you faked being cured of whatever level of psychosis they thought you had, stopping the medication that sedated you. You simply learned to pretend they weren't there. It got easier as the years progressed, however some days were more difficult than others, depending on the size of the curse, and depending on how in your face it wanted to be. You thought you would just live like this—on the verge of a mental breakdown one day at a time. Until you met Geto.

You saw him one day, at the tail end of swiping away at one that seemed to be a pretty big nuisance for him, before condensing it into a black orb and ingesting it. You couldn't help but stare, eyes wide and hands trembling. It was someone else that saw them, someone else that can do something about them. There was no way you hallucinated that. He glanced over at you in disgust that a monkey would even have the audacity to look at him. But tears accumulated in your eyes, and you whispered "you see them too?"

He softened immediately after that.

Geto took you in, soothing your tears after telling him all the terrible years you've endured. Days turned into weeks, of helping you understand what the world of jujutsu is, of what curses are, of his end goal. Weeks turned into months, of him letting you stay with him even though you weren't a fighter, and your healing abilities were barely sustained. He let you stay because he had a soft spot. And feelings emerged. Started to cherish you, started to steal glances, fingers grazing just a bit more than deemed normal.

Geto was in love with you. The rest of them could see it, but they wouldn't dare say anything around him.

"Ah—fuck—'msorry Suguru" you hiccuped, bouncing on his lap, cock buried deep inside your sloppy pussy. Suguru loved you like this, chest to chest, as close to him as possible. It felt right this way. "Let me take care of you, pretty girl. You deserve it" he slowed his movements, wanting to take his time with you. Suguru placed open mouthed kisses on your chest, lavishing your nipples under his tongue. "You're so perfect" he'd whisper, hands caressing your back like he was holding a doll. "I can't believe I've gone my life without you." Another kiss to your chest, and a suck to your other nipple. You gasped, clenching around his dick, juices flowing freely over his balls. "Suguru," you whined "feels good." He kissed your neck, and pressed you closer to him. A hand came up to your head to pull you down for a kiss on your lips, slow and deliberate, taking his time to taste you fully. "I want to make you feel good always, my perfect baby. Taking me so well, your pussy was made for me." Another clench and whine, head lulling to the side out of sheer bliss. "Never want to let you go" he murmured, though he wasn't sure if you heard it.

Geto quickened, a hand coming in between your bodies to rub at the swollen nub at the apex of your thighs. You cried out and tightened around him, orgasm closing it. "Come on, beautiful. Cum for me, I want to feel your cute little cunt milking me" Suguru bit at your neck, angling his hips to hit that delicious squishy part inside you that made you see stars. "S-suguru! A-ah fuck, oh fuck" you cried out, legs trembling and body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. You rode out your high as Geto continued to pump his length into you. "Gonna cum in you, pretty, gonna fill you up." He thrusted into you a few more times before shooting his load into you. He fucked his cum into you, wanting more than anything to keep it inside that puffy cunt of yours.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

He was going to make sure it took, that you'd get pregnant. You wouldn't leave him now, he was sure of it. But he needed a guarantee.

#getou x reader #getou suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto smut #milk kinktober #milk writes #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 months

Note

I have enjoyed your some of stories! You are a wonderful writer and I'd like to request a story if you don't mind.

(Kinda related to you mimic one)

Can I get a Yandere male monster that traps the reader in an endless fourth-dimension-like plane? Their they are trapped in a place (whatever you decide) with the monster that endlessly stalks them with mimic appearances or voices, gaslights, acts psychology cruel, and is generally highly manipulative. The creature loves the reader but loves in an utterly devoted alien way.

No non-con. Toxic/forced relationship but no non-con. Plus, I've also believed that any truly alien/nonhuman creature wouldn't think nor desire sex in the same way as us humans do.

I hope you consider my request and have a great day!

A/N: This was sent in a WHILE ago, but here is my interpretation!

CW: Sleep paralysis-like/mimic creachure, kidnapping (?), possessive dialogue & behavior, nightmares, etc.

Synopsis: You wake up to something staring at you from the end of your bed.

Apparently no matter how many melatonin gummies you take, your sleep is not guaranteed to be a peaceful, long-term slumber. You too, can be awoken in a deep sweat while stuck to your mattress by an unseen shadow figure in the corner of your room. A couple nights ago it was in-between your closet doors, but something about that just wasn’t close enough, apparently.

It reached the end of your bed, black blurred fingers reaching up like the cold beneath your blankets, your ankle crushed by the grip of a frigid hand. It drew you forward, sliding you unceremoniously to the end of the bed. Your eyes were frozen, going watery as your body cramped. fear turned your skin into needles with your heart on the verge of exploding inside of you.

Each time ‘it’ came to visit you, it was enough to paralyze you in a suffering state of fright. You thought sleep paralysis demon’s were supposed to stay in their corners, just barely touching the tips of your toes, keeping you frozen in fear from a distance. But this, it came to huff on you with damp breath, always feeling unbelievably real, even in the achy mornings.

You were slid to the edge of the bed, silent screams unable to escape from your mouth as each leg disappeared into darkness, the rest of your body slowly following. You were being dragged into some dark, fuzzy hole of emptiness, yanked completely in by a twisting arm. It circled around your ankles entirely like shackles, turning your feet purple.

Your wide, dilated eyes were shifted from seeing the spinning blades of your ceiling fan, to the stary black of a rippled room of infinity. The “sky,” twinkled with small dots of light, but they sparkled in a way most stars didn’t. The ground wasn’t wet, but it seemed to flow over you, like waves of blurry obsidian sea brushing against the sides of your body.

The collective cackling of grainy, laughtrack voices in sync rang out. It was a flashbang of noise in the echoing universe, this other realm repeating sound differently than you had ever heard before.

“So easy…. Too easy!”

You recognized the voice to be from one of the characters in the show you watched before going to bed… but you couldn’t remember, who it belonged to. It was masculine, almost game show host-esque in inflection.

You swallowed. You felt worse, frozen in this infinity pool of unknown, trapped to the floor and completely exposed to whatever dragged you in here.

‘Wake up.’ You scrunched your eyes shut. ‘Wake up…!’ Your toes wiggled, still feeling that abyss of dark ‘water.’ ‘Please just wake up!’

“There’s no use, not when I have your body here stuck in limbo.”

The face of your 10th grade “boyfriend” appeared, peering down at you with his post-braces teeth, shining like a shark. But that wasn’t him, it wasn’t even his skin. Parts of him were twisted and too fractured, blurred out as if details of what he truly looked like were manufactured to be hidden.

The beast, it had his voice though.

“You looked so vulnerable while sleeping, turning blissfully frightened when you saw me hiding…” He laughed with a snort, a trait your highschool 5-second ‘lover’ often let out.

But that face was quickly peeled off by black fingers, blurry ones, those that ripped you from your bed. The dark mass left behind turned into a handsome young surgeon, one on the telenovela your friend had forced you to watch the other day. He was famous in Brazil, often for playing the devious, unexpected villain.

You could see the smile in his eyes before he took of the surgical mask, piercing greens big and bright with cheekbones sharper than the scalpel he killed his victims with.

You could hardly mumble between your tight lips, frozen as a gloved hand ran down your navel.

“I’ve seen what humans look like on the inside… but you make me so curious.” He spoke, slight portuguese accent snuffed by a long black tongue glazing over his full lips. “But I would never hurt my sweetly gentle creature, who couldn’t help but walk into my den… Should’ve been more careful in your dreams, my dear.”

“Wht’re talkin’ abt…” Cold drops fell down your neck, lips sewn shut as your gaze unwavered against the demon surgeon. His soft pupils were growing large enough to consume him.

“Our little, how do you say.. Date.” His pearly teeth disappeared and swirled into a new face, a 2D one of your childhood cartoon crush, the one you had the pleasure of lucid dreaming a cuddle session of. He had needed your help, desperate and despairing as he was stuck behind a midnight-colored, steel door. “Only you can open it.” He ushered, muffled behind the lock as he pleaded for release. He sounded so guttural, so unlike how you remembered in the hundreds of episodes…

But that smug, one-liner attitude and charming face that taught you love as a child came through and it praised you for such kindness. He was so flattering, your consciousness wrapped around his finger as the character of your dreams fed you sweet line after line.

“Have you never heard of leaving unknown doors closed in the unconscious world? Or were you too dense-headed to realize some dreams are too good to be true.” Your cartoon crush spat, A clawed hand coming up to pinch your cheek.

“Then again if you hadn’t been so brainless, we wouldn’t get to be here together. I guess I have you to thank for making you so… capturable.”

You clenched your teeth, wincing with every painful beat of your heart the closer the creature came. It morphed from your beloved character to a faceless black void, red filling where its features should be. With a ragged snap, its breathing left in chopped pieces. Out sprouted its teeth, protruding from cracks in its ink skin, splitting in its sternum and human-like arms. Along the middle of its fadingly red-black face, layers of teeth were rubbed over with individual tongues. They all seemed to speak, to breathe in rhythm as they chomped and let out guttural purrs.

“Plsz…Let m..go..!” You gurgled out, the sensation of its black wholeness wrapping around you like a blanket fort.

From its- his? Confession, you concluded he must be the reason your body’s been stuck in a deep sweat, spasming muscles immovable besides shaking against each other.

Tendrils made of something similar to the thick fog crashing waves over you began to wrap around your legs, leaving a thick, snail slime against your skin with each slow slither. The tips of them had a mind of their own, tentacles swirling, tickling and inching as their latter, larger midparts connected to the shadow beast hanging above you. Each new textured offspring latched and crawled up your body, dragging you closer and closer to the lower half of the beast. Its humanoid-shaped head tilted, fingers-- not tentacles, this time-- grappled at your arms stuck to your sides. Its eyes began to sprout, polka-dotting his body as an array of eyes covered his void of a face.

“You wouldn't be able to live without me… those blissful dreams with whatever handsome creature preoccupied your subconscious. I'm all of them, and they are me.” A black gooey tendril circled around your cheek, the tip wiggling to caress. “I am the prince charming you have run to, night after night, begging to be let out of that hole until you finally caved.” Faces flashed on his empty skin, ones you faintly remember from past dreams that always seemed to make your heart skip a beat. Our rendezvous kept me going all this time..So long i’ve watched you in the waking world from the shadows, wishing I could hold that pretty, unaware face.. My savior, my pet; I'm finally free to trap you for myself!”

He flashed to red again, the tendrils and hands keeping you still staying all the same, before the horrors’ face returned to a horrifying amalgamation of teeth and haunting black eyes.

You wriggled the small bits of your body that were free from paralysis, however that only seemed to be your tongue and toes, your arms jerking only minutely despite the screams inside your head telling you to move. Wherever you were, whatever time it was, it wasn't the same as your bedroom. You were limitless, the space around you nothing but a black hole sucking up everything around it into nothing.

You hardly recalled the dreams it mentioned, The faces only barely ringing a bell. But it was enough for him to see the familiarity flash in your eyes, a smile piercing that mouth of a face that looked as if it wanted to devour you.

“so tender.. so soft, I forgot what it was like having a human nearby at my disposal, receiving the flush of my form and my affection.. I'm afraid I'll never have the heart to free you from my burdened presence.” it chuckled a tad, fingers from its firmly real hands gliding to your shoulders. “Well, to be honest I never intended to, the moment I entered your sweet nightmares...”

You dared to think of speaking, only to find your mouth in a crumpled frown and the air in your chest nearly gone. It felt like you were suffocating under a great weight, sweating under your pajamas as a creature-like nail came to wipe away a drop of perspiration, or a tear, from your eye.

“Now, let's see what fun we can have here before the sun comes up.”

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oneshlut · 6 months

Note

Oh my God.

I had a very funny and slightly strange idea...

Imagine that there is mutual sympathy between the reader and Jax. In short, Jax have crush on reader, but the reader... don’t know it (or just don’t see it.)

So, a new person appears in the circus. It doesn't matter who it is, what it is, what their name is, etc.

So, newbie and the reader became very close friends. I mean, sometimes spending the night in the same room, hugging, holding hands...(I mean friends not like lovers)

Look, I just want to see Jax get jealous, okay...?

Thank youuu🫶💋❤️

A/N: awwwww we love a jealous jax,,, thanks a bunches for requesting!! i've been getting OVERLOADED with requests (which is why i closed them for a while, dw, i've got a schedule goin for me now), i'm just so happy you guys enjoy my works!! yesyes, enjoy! <33

Overly Warm Welcome (Jax x Reader) [Imagine]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Imagine: Reader gets a bit too close to a new character, and Jax gets jealous. How does he respond?

You and Jax have always been close. Everyone in the circus knew this. Mainly because you were partners in crime, pranking everyone in sight together.

Jax would never admit it--not to you--but he had always enjoyed your company. You didn't think of him as some 2-dimensional asshole, but rather someone who actually had a life before. He felt.. seen.

On good days, you'd spend a bit of time in his room with him, chatting about nothing in particular.

Yup, I'm lying. The two of you gossiped about everyone all day. Bantering, teasing, joking.. Jax found himself growing increasingly fond of you. Eventually, he had put his full trust in you.

One day, a new sucker joins the circus. It happens every now and then, but not often, so he finds himself intrigued. Apparently, not as much as you were.

You and the new person became friends immediately. Jax is glad you were able to find someone to relate to, as you were both still pretty new.

Doesn't think much of the two of you at first. He's not immediately jealous, don't worry, his confidence is still intact.

So you start spending more and more time with them. Jax does miss you, but he's, again, not that fragile. He doesn't really care, neither does he care to know the person's name that you started spending all your time with.

He will get slightly more antsy around you, though. Doesn't ask you to join in on pranks anymore, since he thinks you're too busy. Okay, he's just dragging himself away from you at this point.

Jax will watch from afar as you and your friend chit chat and what not.. hoping you still cared for him, and then he just happens to spot the two of your hands were interlocked with eachother.

Surprisingly, that wasn't his final straw. Although, when you had talked to him earlier, he was much more tense with you. He forced laughs, and had a constant envious glint in his eyes.

He would've been fine, if you had just went up, introduced yourself to the new fella, and went on to your day. You could've stayed in a safe relationship with them where you only talked sometimes because of circumstance.

But that's not what happened, huh? Now, you had only spent about two minutes a day with him. And he missed you. There, he admitted it. And if he was being honest, he always wanted you and him to be something.. maybe something more. He's not too confident that's going to happen now, though. He felt overlooked.

You just now begin to notice the edge to his voice. Suddenly, he feels a lot more hostile to be around. He'd mumble about nothing in particular, be lots more rude around you. Ruder than usual, at least. And sometimes, he didn't even want to look you in the eye. Part of you thought that it was something you did.. and a small part of you thought he was just close to abstracting. But you knew him better than that. He had a better mental state than Kaufmo ever did.

One night, he decides to approach you about this. He didn't want to live in silence forever, did he? He also didn't want to.. live without you. But when he knocked on your door, his response was a hollow room.

Jax goes to Ragatha for answers, and tells him that the last she heard of you, you were on your way to the new fella's room. If anything was his last straw, this would be it.

But how else is he supposed to drag you away from them? He'd need a reason, and all he's got right now is.. either admitting he missed you, or admitting to something even more mushy and gushy. He did not feel like doing that at the moment.

Instead, it ends up accidentally slipping out in one of your conversations. Not the liking you romantically thing, but the, uh, missing you thing.

Hearing that he missed you left your heart soaring a mile a minute. I mean, sure, you were close, but.. Jax doesn't normally care for anyone. Except for.. you, apparently.

After you were able to silence the flush look on your face, you questioned him about it. He told you about how much time you've been spending with the "newbie", and how he just misses your company, is all. It didn't seem like everything, though. You decided to save that question for another conversation.

So, he was jealous? Hah, he denied it, but you knew better. You had apologized to him, and agreed to set up a prank on Zooble later that day. His voice no longer felt as tense, and you saw a glint of his usual cheeky grin coming back to him. You smiled back. Not before teasing him relentlessly about it, though.

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itsmeatballworld · 21 days

Text

| it ends in heartbreak |

pairing | daryl dixon x f!reader

summary | you both knew he would break your heart. he couldn't help himself.

wc | 1400

warnings | cursing, sadness/heartbreak [aka the title]

a/n | I've had this in my drafts forever lol I forgot about this one! Also this is the first time I've ever written pure angst so go easy on me <3

You always knew this day would come.

There were signs pointing to the downfall of your relationship, signs you chose to ignore to enjoy the moments of happiness.

But the signs couldn’t be any clearer–it would never last. It couldn't.

It was the end of the world, for starters. Life was always in shambles. The group never stayed in one spot long enough. Even the prison wasn’t safe. With everything unstable, it should’ve been obvious this would happen, but you were naive to think you’d would be any different.

Because the reality was: this was always how it was supposed to end.

He was built on a fractured foundation. He set up walls and built his life around a broken base, worn down by his past that he couldn't escape. First, parents had cracked and hardened his outlook on life. Then his brother taught him he meant little to others by leaving him behind. Not once did he ever learn how to fix the ache in his heart.

Yet when he met you, things changed.

It was gradual. Pieces of him started to align and heal. The tough outer shell wasn't as indestructible as he first imagined. After some time he opened up and let you in.

But you both knew he would break your heart.

He couldn't help himself. It was in his nature to push back, to fight and wrangle away from anything that became too real. Too good.

But for the time being, you enjoyed the blissful moments of his affection.

When he kissed you goodnight it was over.

He lingered, almost as if he was allowing his lips to memorize the feeling of your skin on his. His fingers fell against your curves as you pressed into the cellblock’s cool cement wall. It was in these seconds of quiet where you both had a chance to breathe.

Pulling back, Daryl rested one arm above your head. He leaned in close, gazing sweetly down at you. His other hand slowly traveled to your face and Daryl’s thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

Without hesitating you whispered the words he never imagined hearing from you.

Love you.

There. Right there. You saw the spark in his bright blue eyes dim. The crystalline color washed away into a deep ocean blue. Rocky and turbulent. Daryl’s eyes were no longer filled with love, but rather, fear.

You lost him, right there, pressed against the concrete wall of Cellblock D.

This was destined to fail.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Have to.”

“No…no you don’t have to, Daryl.” Your chest tightened. It was like the air was on fire. No matter how deeply you breathed in and out, pain still resided in your chest. He was crippling you.

“Daryl–”

“Ain’t up for debate.” He stepped back, snatching his crossbow from the watchtower’s metal flooring.

Your hands fumbled to find your shirt, hating how he sprung this on you in the middle of the night. He didn't have patience to wait, apparently. Just break your heart and go, like it was nothing.

“I’m not trying to…I just…” you groaned. “What happened? Was it me? Did I do something?”

His eyes went wide. That scared, fearful expression washed over him once again.

Fuck, you squeezed your eyes shut. That was it. That look. It was just like the other night. When those stupid words stumbled out of your mouth, falling to the ground at Daryl’s feet. Just before he crushed them with his silence.

“Was it something I said?”

He didn't answer and his silence (unlike most nights) wasn't good enough. You needed answers.

“So that’s it then. You say ‘I’m done’ and leave before sunrise?”

The broody man fought to glance in your direction. Instead, he focused out towards the tree-line. He grabbed onto the windowsill and squeezed so tightly that the white of his knuckles appeared. But his tactics to avoid the conversation at hand weren’t getting past you tonight.

You shot up from the floor. “Daryl.”

“I ain’t got time for this.”

“You fuck me, say we’re done, and leave? Like this was all nothing? Like we mean nothing to each other?”

Daryl paused. He turned to you with lips curled into a tight frown. Even in the darkness of the watchtower, through the bright white moonlight, his frustration was clear.

“I said ‘I love you’, Daryl.” There was a desperation behind your words. Your voice was so deeply distressing it made your chest ache. It was heavy and exhausting to display your feelings out to him in the middle of the night. But you wanted more–deserved more–than a shitty ending to whatever you had with him.

“You think this is love?”

You gawked, “yes!”

He paced the small room like a caged animal ready to pounce.

You love this man.

“This ain’t love.”

You love this man. This jerk.

“Then what the fuck is this, Daryl? Tell me.” You paused, tears welling in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. “Fucking tell me!”

The shirt in your hands balled up tight around your closed fist. You were hurt. Everything about him was trouble and you let him in.

“I said ‘I love you’. I said it and now you’re pulling away.”

As he watched you, just for a moment, his eyes didn’t fill with fear or confusion. There was something there. Between the declarations, he looked apologetic. His blue eyes softened, letting the emotions he desperately tried to conceal slip past those walls he built back up.

“Well, shit! I’m sorry I said it. I fucked this up, didn’t I?” The gravel in your voice scratched your throat. Everything burned.

The apologetic stare turned pitiful. A deep scowl crossed his face and your heart sank. “Can’t mess it up when there was nothin’ here, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. It was so condescending as his drawl pulls at the syllables. That tightness in your chest balled into a pit of rage. Fire that burned you before ignited an anger inside.

You moved closer towards him. “You sleep with me every night. You kiss me before leaving on runs. When you think nobody’s looking, you hold my hand. We talk about our past. Our future. This is real, Daryl.”

“Nah.” He grabbed his belt, twisting it through the loops. “This ain’t real.”

Your fingers tightened on the fabric as you tugged the shirt on. “That’s not true—“

He huffed, staring out into the cloudy night sky. “You’re better off without me anyway.”

“Don’t. Don't say that. I’m not better off without you. I’d be worse.”

Daryl paused.

But the hurt and anger fueling your body didn’t stop. “So don’t make me feel crazy for falling in love with you. Like it was a choice? If I was fucking smart, I would’ve ran far away from you the second we met. But I didn’t. Because I saw you for more than the asshole you pretend to be. So excuse me for feeling blindsided by your decision to leave me.”

“Leave you?” He spat. “Get it through your head, girl. You ain’t mine! You’re just some bitch I screwed.”

The frogs croaking down by the creeks ceased to exist. Trees stopped rustling in the breeze. Crickets no longer sang under the stars. The world froze as his words were thrown at you with such haste. Like he didn’t think twice.

Your arms wrapped around your waist, tugging at the fabric clinging to your body.

He didn’t look back at you. His eyes seemed to drift anywhere but you like he couldn't face the fact that he said it out loud.

No, no. He doesn’t really think that…

Your voice cracked as the tears from earlier were not going to wait much longer. “Daryl–”

He turned on his heels and was out the door. Down the ladder, each step was louder than the last. You paused, bawling your fists as the tears finally spilled across your cheeks. Loud and heaving gasps, muddled together with hot tears.

He broke you down within seconds. The tears and sobs continued on for what felt like forever until you finally had a moment of rest. The tightness in your chest subsided, thankfully, but this was the easier part. Tomorrow will be harder when you’ll have to put on a fake smile, wipe away tears in the dark prison hallways, and avoid him.

Forget him. Forget him…right like it would be easy. It’ll be fucking impossible to forget him.

You wished you could hate him. But you don’t.

So for tonight, you let yourself feel the heartbreak and planned to stand taller tomorrow. Because in the end you knew it would never last.

But it didn't matter.

You loved that man.

Yet after everything, he might have been right. You weren't truly with him.

And maybe he never really cared for you at all.

-xx-

a/n 2.0 | daryl PLEASEE {as if I didn't write him to act this way}

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #dary dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #y/n x daryl dixon #reader x daryl dixon #you x daryl dixon #angsty angst #sad reader and broken daryl #daryl twd #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl

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fallingdownhell · 1 year

Note

Doctors make the worst patients; or you take care of a sick Tighnari.

Doctors make the worst patients... that really is true, I can tell you that. I may not be a doctor, but I'm working as a nurse and I've had many doctors under my care. Let's just say, it wasn't always pleasant...

But yeah, let's get to happier stuff, because Tighnari makes me happy <3

Content: gender neutral reader; comfort; sickfic; Tighnari is sick and you take care of him; fluff

Word count: 620 words

Tighnari would be a whiny little bitch when he's sick

and I mean that in the most loving way that I can say that

he would not stay in bed, even if it's clear to you and anyone else around that he needs to stay in

he insists that he's fine and that he can keep working, while his ears hang low, just like his tail. His eyes also lack the usual concentrated look

He is stubborn like no one else. Convincing him to take care of himself is nigh impossible

For Tighnari himself to say that he's sick and is better of staying in bed, he would have to be on the brink of death. Not literally, but he would have to feel like literal shit, otherwise he would still force himself to get up and take care of his duties

Even though you tell him that the other forest watchers will survive a few days without him, he doesn't listen

You try every trick in the book to get him to lay down: bribe him with his favourite food, offer him cuddles, but nothing seems to work. Only when you would beg him would he finally realize what he is doing and start to listen to you

He crawls into bed with a defeated look under your watchful eyes and only when his head hit the pillows does he realize how tired he actually is

He falls asleep almost instantly, but he doesn't really get any rest from it. It's a restless and dreamless sleep

when he wakes up again, he feels like shit. His hair is sticking to his forehead from how much he's sweating, but there is also a cool, wet washcloth placed on top of it to cool him down

He sees a glass of water on the table next to him and he immediately chucks it down, his poor throat feeling as dry as the desert itself

Next thing he knows, he hears footsteps approaching and within seconds, you're by his side, kneeling on the floor next to him

You ask him how he feels but one look at him is enough to tell you everything you need to know

Grabbing the now empty glass, you return to the kitchen to fill it up again, but that is not the only thing you grabbed while in there

When you emerge again, you're holding a tray with a full glass, a plate of soup and some medicine for him

Tighnari thanks you as he chucks down the medicine with the entire glass again, before he eats a few spoons of the soup. But a few is as much as his stomach can handle apparently and he has to stop fairly soon or he would risk throwing up

You seem to understand without him even having to tell you and you grab the stuff to bring it back to the kitchen

Once back, you replace the washcloth on his head one more time

As you are about to leave for the night, Tighnari suddenly holds you by the wrist, not wanting you to leave

"Stay?", he asks with a weak voice. You want to refuse, but the way he's looking at you with such big eyes makes it impossible for you to deny him

So, with a sigh, you climb under the covers with him and he instantly snuggles into you more, yearning for you to be even closer to him

he drifts off to sleep soon after that, feeling the warmth of your embrace even in his sleep and he thinks to himself, that maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all if you were here to take care of him..

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #tighnari x reader #genshin impact thighnari #tighnari x you #tighnari headcanons

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iaure · 1 year

Text

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗱

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city. tw: general yandere behaviour, stalking, harassment, ptsd, mentions of panic attacks, entrapment

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ wait a week, muerte...a week off...but i am apparently incapable of that. i'm certainly not complaining. these next two chapters are going to be much shorter, as there's more plot as well as giving your coworker a name, but leon's perspective is coming next!! i've also been getting into welcome home arg; it looks very fun!!

things had been dying down.

♡ your life had been smoothing itself out after that night with Leon, and he'd been taking it upon himself to walk you home when you close.

♡ you've been more relaxed, especially if he stays the night. he doesn't sleep in your bed, sure, but it's nice just having him around.

♡ the eyes on you seemed to have gone away, and things in your house stopped moving.

♡ or, at least, you wanted to tell yourself that.

♡ but some pieces are clicking, forming one horrible, ugly puzzle.

♡ you figured Leon had always been a bit focus on you. that much was obvious.

♡ but you began actually seeing how he treats you.

♡ he's clingy, dedicated; it's almost like worship.

♡ his eyes are always on you, no matter what.

♡ if you weren't in his line of sight, he'd evidently freak, or at least be upset-the bed incident was a great example.

♡ he knew everything about you, but you knew next to nothing about him.

♡ his birthday? his favourite colour? family? nothing.

♡ all you knew was his name, and that he survived raccoon city, which you weren't even sure of at this point.

♡ how much of what he said was a lie to get close to you?

♡ and his name! it took you far, far longer than you would've liked to put together what K meant - K for Kennedy.

and it broke your heart.

♡ because Leon was just so sweet.

♡ he was so caring to you, carrying groceries and hanging out with you and at one point even attempting to cook you dinner, which ended up burnt beyond belief.

♡ you didn't want to accept the idea that it was him doing all of this.

♡ but everything only made sense if it was him.

♡ maybe he used to sneak into your house, but your superintendent changed your locks and you'd been inviting him into your apartment.

♡ maybe he'd been satisfied from that.

♡ either way, you weren't sure how to handle it.

♡ lately, you've been trying to avoid him.

♡ you haven't been able to make him not walk you home, not yet, but for different shifts you've had some peace.

♡ he hasn't been watching you the way he did before-not lately.

♡ but he has been mopey.

♡ about half of the time, if he tries coming into your work, you hide in the back.

♡ your coworker, bless her, always covered for you.

♡ if Leon asked where you were, she'd respond that you were were working in the back, smooth as butter.

♡ Leon would mope, and ask to see you, but your coworker would make up a smooth lie. your favourite had been that your boss had gotten upset with how distracted Leon had been making you, so you'd been placed in the back to be more 'efficient'.

♡ Leon would leave with his tail between his legs.

♡ speaking of your coworker, you'd be confiding in her more!

♡ her name was Selia, and she was a sorely needed ally.

♡ she was much taller than you, and younger by about a year; but she acted mature, and had a sharp tongue and quick wit, so working with her was always pleasant.

♡ she was the only other employee at the bakery aside from the owner, and she often was in charge of the baking itself.

♡ you confessed to her about your suspicions with Leon, and she took it upon herself to try and help you.

♡ she acted as though he'd committed something far more vicious, accusing him of capital crimes.

♡ and as much as the situation sucked, it made you laugh.

♡ you knew Leon was picking up on it, too.

♡ he'd been more irritable to Selia and other people that hung around you, and far more clingy to you specifically.

♡ he never got mad, but you hated to think just what his version of mad would look like.

slowly, you began replacing Leon with Selia.

♡ it was Selia walking you home, Selia was your pizza buddy, Selia stayed up with you on the phone when you were having a panic attack; Selia was your friend.

♡ there were a handful of times where Leon would go out of his way to catch you.

♡ he'd show up during another (surprisingly frequent) power outage, geared with his wonder bag and board games, only to discover that you had invited Selia instead.

♡ he'd come literally running down the block, trying to catch up to you during a closing shift

♡ but he'd stop dead in his tracks - literally skidding to a stop - a yard away from the door when he'd see Selia holding the lock for you so you could get your things together.

♡ and you knew it hurt him.

♡ but how else were you going to cut him and his creepy antics off unless it was cold turkey?

♡ but sometimes, through the backdoor, during those power outages, during those moments after closing, you'd catch his eye.

♡ and the look he gave was haunting.

♡ it's as though the soul was sucked out of him, every time.

the guilt was going to eat you whole.

♡ there was the off chance that it wasn't Leon - that it was some other creep doing this. that little chance that you were just putting him through emotional torture, for no reason.

♡ but who else could it possibly be?

♡ who else would fit the profile so well?

♡ and were you willing to take that chance? were you willing to bet that it wasn't Leon, only for him to do something drastic? like kidnap you?

♡ no, you thought not.

♡ after a week of your forcible separation, you thought Leon got the message.

♡ you didn't feel him on you anymore; he didn't show up to your shifts. he was...gone.

♡ you walked home alone for the first time in forever, and all was well.

♡ you eventually got to the point, after three or four days, that you assumed he simply gave up.

♡ he'd find some other person who was pretty and smart and just the fit for him, you were sure.

♡ you began walking home more and more, against Selia's advice. But you didn't listen.

♡ it was a warm spring evening that you got home, and off-beat, everything was fine.

♡ you set your bag down, hoping to simply change out of your work clothes and then melt into your couch.

♡ in the middle of you changing, though, you heard a weird noise.

♡ it was by your door; a weird sort of 'thunk'. you wondered if some dipshit kids outside had thrown something against it.

♡ you huffed.

♡ once you finished changing, you stepped out of your room, ready to call some parents.

♡ but your heart stopped cold.

♡ Leon was in your living room.

♡ immediately, you looked to your front door, but he'd apparently already thought of that.

♡ he had put his wonder bag in front of it, and you could see inside several, at least dozens, of weights-the fabric of the bag was fraying the seams, several weights spilling over onto the floor. it was something that Leon would have trouble with, let alone you.

♡ it took a second for you to look back at Leon.

♡ and he looked...good.

♡ he'd done his hair, dressed in nice clothes, and had a set of flowers on the coffee table. if the situation was so nauseating, then it'd be almost cute how nervous he looked.

♡ he rose, playing with his hands

"we need to talk."

𓂋

ʚ♡ɞ taglist

@theybotomy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @kujosuke ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @je-suis-argent-miel ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @xxacademy

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader smut #yandere leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ dearest updates #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ palabras muertas #divagaciones (per)

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sethsclearwater · 7 months

Note

the au where seth and reader were in a relationship before him and paul imprinted on her, seth would probably have already said i love you, but paul hasn’t yet

could you do paul saying i love you to reader either during sex or like a fluffy moment and seth is just grinning bc he already knew because of the wolf bond

these two🥺🤍🤍

...

"you sure about that?" paul asked softly, a teasing undertone to his voice that had you giggling as you spun around to face him and nod your head.

"positive," you reassured, stepping over to press a quick kiss to his lips. paul apparently had other plans though and quickly lifted his hands to slide them onto your hips and tug you closer to him as he deepened the kiss, absolutely loving the way you so easily melted into him.

the two of you were supposed to be attending tonight's council meeting at billy's but you saw how tired and stressed paul had been with the recent increase in patrol shifts and had opted to pretend you had the world's worst period cramps in an attempt to get the two of you out of it without throwing paul under the bus.

you giggled against his lips after a few moments, sighing softly as he gently squeezed at your hips, "we can just stay here tonight," you added softly, a flirtatious tone to your voice that had paul mentally cursing himself for wearing gray sweatpants that he knew you'd easily be able to see his hardening length in, "wanna watch a movie with you," you murmured, lips barely ghosting over his as you spoke, the two of you maintaining heavy eye contact that had you also feeling all sorts of ways.

paul paused for a moment, eyes scanning your own as he thought through what he was about to say. you gave him a moment, knowing he usually needed a few extra seconds to speak his mind with you especially when it was something rather intimate.

"i love you," he said for the first time, voice soft and quiet as he spoke, though his voice never wavered which had you knowing he absolutely meant it.

you froze for just a second before the biggest smile crossed your face as you processed his words, "i love you too," you murmured just as the front door of your apartment opened and closed, followed by the third member of your trio's footsteps heading over to your bedroom.

paul smiled, pulling you closer to him for another gentle kiss and you slid your hands up his chest to gently knot in his hair as you melted into him, allowing him to control the intensity of your little makeout session.

within a few moments though, you heard seth setting down his car keys on your dresser so you and paul parted so you could peek over your shoulder to see him, "hi seth," you giggled, untangling one of your hands from paul's hair to reach out for him.

seth gladly took your hand and stepped over to you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, "i heard you have the world's worst period cramps?" he asked teasingly, both you and paul letting out breathy laughs at his question.

"wanted to stay in with you two tonight," you murmured, a bit bashful as your cheeks heated up to a light pink over your embarrassment over your little lie.

seth just chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, "well i think you had the best idea i've heard all day," he teased, "so what are we watching?" he asked before releasing your hand so he could turn around and go find the pair of pajamas he always kept at your place for night's he spent with you.

you giggled, "not sure yet," you mused before turning your attention back to paul who was watching you with a soft smile on his face, "i love you," you whispered to him again, giggling when he immediately tightened his fist in your hair and pulled you back in for another kiss.

you didn't see it because you were a bit occupied with paul's lips against yours but seth was smiling at the two of you while he got changed into his pajama pants, absolutely loving that paul finally worked up the nerve to say 'i love you' to you after thinking about it for so long.

"i love you too princess," paul murmured against your lips as he allowed you to part for air, both of you smiling dopily at each other as you took in the moment.

#poly!paulxreaderxseth #poly!sethxreaderxpaul #seth clearwater #paul lahote #seth clearwater x reader #seth clearwater blurb #seth clearwater imagine #seth clearwater fluff #paul lahote blurb #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote fluff #twilight #the twilight saga #imagine #fluff #blurb

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weebsinstash · 9 months

Note

Ohmygod your thoughts on Yandere Miguel give me life

Idk how your blog works so feel free to ignore and delete this ask but I have some thoughts I'd like your take on

So platonic yandere Miguel with a teen reader who's crushing on a villain from her universe (im a sucker for the enemies to lovers trope </3). And villain reciprocates feelings but is obviously evil (i can't fix them I'll love them for it) so Miguel HATES it even more.

And I'm imagining that villain is also a yandere so there's just gonna be so much drama like AHDISHDUSHD

But yes this idea has been bouncing around in my head alot

If you give me permission I shall come in here with more thoughts on this if I get them

Anygays have a nice day or night make sure to stay hydrated!!!

*Tyler the creator voice* ok ok ok ok ok

so, I was thinking of something earlier, and, I forgot to grab a screenshot of it, but, extremely incredibly minor ATSV spoiler, when Miles is being shown the holograms of the Spiderverse, another series of canon events that is shown is every Spider having some sort of Symbiote experience (as in Venom, which, I have to admit, I'm uh, not extremely knowledgeable on Spiderman lore, I've been out of the game with this series since like grade school, I used to be big on DC and TMNT and hero shit, so, yeah)

Reader is just crushing on like, some evil Eddie Brock or some bad boy with a Symbiote, and dedicated/obsessive Papá Miguel instantly recognizes when your moods and behaviors start to change, more rebellious, more moody, you're becoming a bit more assertive, but not always in the good way, you're hurting people, maybe even stealing and other petty crimes. He presses you on who you've been hanging out with because APPARENTLY you've been sneaking off your watch so you can't inherently be tracked or spied on or contacted

Some drama ass shit like, Miguel has been trying to reach you because you both have some sort of really sentimental or important date coming up, maybe the anniversary of when he first met you or your birthday or his birthday where you both were supposed to do something nice together, something that's been planned and talked about for ages, and then, this rebellion stuff begins and, the date comes and you completely ghost him, he can't find you, contact you, he's frustrated and angry but also worried because what if you're hurt? What if his baby girl is HURT 🥺 SURELY that's the ONLY reason you wouldnt show up and break your poor stressed beloved daddy's heart liks this 🥺 and he finally finds you and you're totally fine, it's just like "haha sorry 'dad' I was getting railed by my evil big tall hunky villain boyfriend and also I have a Symbiote now, look at my spooky black costume, im evil now :)" and here's Miguel like "NOOO PRINCESA 😭😱✝️", but, technically he's only able to interfere in certain ways, like, maybe he can pressure you to break up with this guy but your Symbiote is canon and whether you defeat it and get rid of it or somehow master it and befriend it like say Ghost Spider, that isn't up to him, he can only pressure you but he can't MAKE you do anything, at least, not directly

You're running around having your rebellious Evil Girl Autumn and he's trying to, you know, steer you back onto the path of righteousness and all that and the harder he tries to control you the angrier you're getting until you're even losing your temper and throwing things at him or eventually physically attacking him (to which he's forced to overpower you which, you two have sparred before but this is different and it breaks his heart). You throw your watch at him and tell him to go fuck himself, that you hate him, that you never want to see him again, but you're crying and he takes this as a sign you aren't serious (which, you aren't, not 100% completely, you kinda lowkey ARE having a huge temper tantrum and rebellious phase and being a criminal brat, but, like.... spiderverse babyyyy we got Spider powers, shit has no consequences, or so it feels like to you at the time, and the Symbiote is maybe questionably evil and corrupting your thoughts)

Oh I just realized you said teen reader and here I am talking about getting railed 💀 maybe the villain is a teen too or just a few years older than you but either way like. Miguel doesn't want his sweet innocent pure virginal baby girl having sex! With anyone! Especially before marriage! (Although i was hearing he's kind of a slut in the comics?) He ever finds that shit out it's like, A CRISIS EVENT. He's like that one stereotype of brothers/fathers who hate seeing their sister/daughter date because that's the baby the raised/grew up with. Picture having an argument with him and you're just trying to piss him off and like, it's true but in anger you say "OH YEAH? oh YEAH??? Well, well, you know how you hate Hobie Brown so much?! We've been dating JUST TO MUTUALLY SPITE YOU, and you know what, i actually like him, and he likes me! Maybe we'll hook up for real! Maybe I'll FUCK HIM, DAD :) maybe we'll HAVE A BABY TOGETHER, DAD :)"

Like girlie nooooo you're getting put into The Biggest Time-Out The Multiverse Has Ever Seen. You think getting locked up in a room would be bad, NO, because at least you'd have some vague sense of privacy and personal space. You're now on 24/7 Daughter Duty, with him literally all the time except for, bathing and that stuff. He's dragging you around, making you accompany him, controlling what you're allowed to do, really an extended prolonged punishment. Hss making you sit in his office or whatever while he works and you'll be absolutely fucking bored out of your mind because you're basically given nothing to do, have no phone, no tasks really. He's not outright hurting or abuse you but it's a kind of psychological burden for you, but from his perspective he's just, basically guarding you like a dedicated father, protecting his baby from tarnishing her reputation, her body, and otherwise when he isn't there. CLEARLY he has a lot more fathering to give you than he originally thought

#yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts #and yeah sure homie youre free to send ideas whenever i just might not always reply #im working 40 hour weeks and kts third shift and its really uh messingup my sleep after all these months #also weed. tons of weed lol

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weirdkpopgirl · 1 year

Text

Starving Yourself | Dream Reaction #6

Reaction: When their gf skips meals

Genre: Angst, slight fluff

Warnings: subtle mention of eating disorders, body image issues, lots of crying (I apologize)

Word Count: 3435k

Author's Note: I've had this subject in the back of my mind for a while now. A few days ago, I just got into it and thankfully finished today. I want to first credit my friend who helped me come up with scenarios for this lol.

Just a little disclaimer, I wanted to say something for those with poor body image. I feel like you hear things like this a lot, and you might read more things like "oh I also struggle too," and "please don't feel bad about yourself." When I was working on this, I did write some of the stories based on experience. So I don't have any right to advise on improving your self-esteem or working to have better eating habits. I'd be a hypocrite if I said those things. All I can say is that I know how what self-hatred is like, and how it can take you down some dark paths.

Please stay strong. I am very sorry for how long this note is 😅

~ ~ ~

MARK

His life was going normally, being a workaholic as always. At the same time, he felt more at ease since he was dating you. The other night, you guys went out on a movie date to see the new Black Panther film. It wasn’t until near the end of the movie that he noticed the popcorn you bought was barely touched. But knowing your slight dislike for greasy foods, Mark didn't think too much about it.

After dropping you off, he returned to his dorm. He was met by the Dream members who appeared to have been waiting for him. They watched quietly as their leader removed his shoes and took his jacket off.

“Hyung?” Jisung asked cautiously.

“Yeah? What’s up?” The Dreamies exchanged looks with each other that he couldn’t quite read. Was it uncertainty?

“I don’t think he knows,” Chenle murmured, causing Mark’s brows to furrow in confusion.

“Know what?”

Chenle glanced at his hyung, and back toward the members beside him. But he was going to tell Mark the truth no matter what.

“That (Y/n) collapsed at her university last week.”

Mark stepped back, clearly shocked by this news. “What? Why?!”

“Apparently she wasn’t eating much,” answered Jaemin.

“She’s your girlfriend. Didn’t you notice something was off?” Haechan’s voice raised slightly. As one of your good friends, the singer couldn’t help but show his irritation. He knew Mark had been so caught up in work recently. But you’ve been struggling for a long time now.

Now in distress, Mark ran a hand through his hair as he searched his memory for anything he might’ve missed. He paused for a moment, remembering the popcorn from earlier. Then he was dashing back out the door, despite it starting to rain.

That was how you heard the sound of your doorbell ringing close to midnight. Luckily you were awake, but you were surprised to see Mark soaking wet. He also looked as if he was about to cry any second.

Despite your befuddlement, you pulled the man inside so he could change into some dry clothes. Mark would bring up to you what the guys told him earlier. At that moment, you began to regret hiding your problems from your boyfriend. You’ve never seen him so worried before.

You spent the rest of the evening—or morning cuddling in bed. Mark kept repeating how much he loved you and apologized for making you feel like you couldn’t come to him. All he sincerely wished for was for you to be happy and healthy. He wasn't going to allow another incident to happen.

✎__________________________________________________________

RENJUN

You had spent nearly an hour getting ready to meet up with Renjun’s parents. Seeing them was the first thing on your list for a weekend trip to your boyfriend’s hometown. It’s been nearly a year since you last met his parents, which made you more nervous than usual.

Renjun’s eyes lit up when you finally came out of the bathroom. He instantly recognized the white blouse with a dark blue floral print and the matching blue skirt you were wearing. It was the outfit he bought you not too long ago.

“Wow, you look so pretty!” He exhaled. There was no hiding how taken away he was with you.

Even though you didn’t agree with his compliment, you thanked him shyly. Renjun noticed something wasn’t quite right pretty fast. The previous times you were about to meet his parents didn’t feel like this. But he couldn’t pinpoint why things felt strange with you.

Deciding to not dwindle on it, you guys left the hotel to meet up with Renjun’s parents at a restaurant. His mother quickly stood up when she spotted you two coming in. While she happily hugged her son, you exchanged greetings with his father.

“It’s so nice to see you again, (Y/n),” Mr. Huang smiled warmly.

You bowed your head politely, “Thank you. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

Mrs. Huang pulled away from her son to get a better look at you. Her eyes filled with slight concern, and she took your hands. “My Dear, you’ve gotten skinnier!”

That's what it was. Renjun now knew what he was wondering about earlier. Preoccupied with carrying on a conversation with his mom and dad, you didn’t notice how he observed you throughout dinner. He waited until you guys came back to your hotel room to confront you.

“(Y/n), are you okay?”

Your body tensed slightly at his question. “Of course I am. What makes you ask that?”

“It’s just—you’ve become so thin lately. Also, you barely ate anything tonight, and you love Chinese food,” He pointed out. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

Honestly, you felt like you’ve been playing a game over the past few weeks. Wondering how long you could hide your unhealthy eating habits from Renjun. Of course, it didn’t take him very long.

Your eyes dropped to the floor. “Nothing—I just haven’t been hungry recently.”

“(Y/n)-ah, please don’t lie. You have to eat,” Renjun chastised.

He walked over to your side and lifted your chin with the tips of his fingers. “Now I know why you’ve been so tired lately. If you keep this up, you can faint or something worse might happen.”

“I’m sorry. I guess, I just wanted to look my best for you and your parents,” You admitted, after a short pause.

In return, Renjun pressed his lips against your forehead. “For the record, my parents love you, and so do I. You don’t need to change anything about yourself. Especially if your health is at risk.”

You melted into his touch, and let yourself sink into his embrace. Renjun was always there to reassure you that you were more than enough for him.

✎__________________________________________________________

JENO

Jeno and you were a newer couple, after having met through mutual friends at university. His major was computer programming, while you studied creative writing. So your schedules were different, but you did share one class.

Your boyfriend was the one to convince you to take dance. Honestly, you were a little reluctant at first. But you ended up signing up for the class to spend more time with him. Since Jeno was more athletic, dancing was a lot easier for him. You…not so much. It was still fun, despite the increasing levels of anxiety the class gave you every week.

One afternoon, you met up after both of your classes finished. That’s when he asked to eat lunch together later. Yeah, a typical thing for a just-got-into-a-relationship boyfriend.

You agreed to his sweet offer. But you didn’t think when you jokingly added that it felt weird since you usually ate one meal a day. Jeno turned to you in astonishment.

“Eo? Only once?!”

Confused by his reaction, you slowly nodded. “Yeah…”

He stopped walking and moved his hand to your shoulder.

“(Y/n)-ah, that isn’t healthy,” He lightly scolded.

But you quickly brushed off his concern for your eating habits. You took his hand and dragged him to the school’s dance studio. “It’s not a big deal, Jeno-ssi. We better hurry, class starts soon.”

In spite of Jeno being slightly wary, you seemed to be learning the new dance routine fairly smoothly. That was until you were changing formations and you started to become dizzy. Huffing quietly, you shook your head to dismiss the slow onset of a headache and kept up with the next moves. This feeling was something you were used to whenever you did any intense physical activity.

However, things were different when the room suddenly began to spin. Your legs were the first to give out, shortly after. Wincing, you pressed your knuckles against your forehead. Gasps and words you couldn’t process only irritated you more. Fortunately, Jeno rushed to pick you up off the ground and carried you to the health office.

The nurse checked up on you after getting settled. “Did you eat anything today?” She asked.

Jeno couldn’t hide a scoff when you told the woman you had. He frowned when the nurse advised you to rest. Once she left, Jeno allowed himself to sigh.

“(Y/n), you need to eat more.”

“I-I think I just need rest,” You contradicted him.

The boy crossed his arms in persistence. “How can you rest when you have a headache because you don’t eat three meals a day?”

His tone softened a bit when he realized how fatigued you were. Lecturing wasn’t going to help you in this state. With another sigh, he made his way to the chair you were sitting in.

“Rest for now,” He said gently. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Jeno petted your head and pecked you on the lips before dashing out of the room. You waited anxiously for about 15 minutes before your boyfriend came back with assorted types of kimbap. He must’ve bought some from the nearby stand owned by a halmeoni.

You almost cried when he opened the wrapper and fed you. For the first time, someone showed you that they cared. Though you were both early in the relationship, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling deeper for Lee Jeno. Most likely, love.

✎__________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

Due to upcoming exams, you and Haechan spent your Saturday afternoon in the library preparing. Studying on a weekend may not be an ideal date in Haechan’s opinion. At the same time, he knew how stressed you got when exam season came around. But that didn’t stop him from complaining now and then.

“Aish, I missed breakfast because Jaemin was taking too long,” Haechan groaned.

He pouted when he received no response from you. His salty mood prevented him from getting anything done. On the other hand, you were ultra-focused on finishing up an essay for one of your English classes. However, you snapped out of your zone by Haechan’s hand tapping on the corner of your laptop.

“Are you hungry too? Did you have breakfast?”

Almost instinctively, you replied to his question with a simple “no.” You shook your head when he asked if your roommate was also running late this morning.

“I just forgot,” You said absentmindedly.

He watched your eyes flicker back to the computer screen in front of you. It kind of seemed like you wanted to end the conversation quickly. But you couldn’t escape your boyfriend that easily.

Then he asked, “How do you forget to eat breakfast?”

The cool expression on your face slowly faded, as you stopped to think for a moment. Lately, finals haven't only been your source of stress. This past month was spent traveling back and forth between Seoul and Pohang to take care of your sick mother. On top of that, you were balancing school life and hiding your problems from everyone. You guessed self-neglect was a result of all that.

Haechan noticed your sudden change and instantly became worried when tears formed in your eyes. He proceeded to reach his hand across the table to take yours.

“(Y/n), is everything okay?”

You promptly clasped your opposite hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs. At least you still had half the mind to cry quietly, remembering you were at a library. Usually, you were the last person to have an emotional outburst. But Haechan’s question made you realize how not okay you were.

Fortunately, your boyfriend was quick to act and rushed to your side. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you in a tight embrace that would hopefully calm you down.

A few minutes later, Haechan closed your laptop. “Okay, you’re going to stop thinking about school for the rest of the day.”

“Hyuck…” You wanted to argue, though you knew he was already standing up and packing your things away.

“You can tell me what’s been bothering you over lunch,” He added, “Does jjamppong sound okay?”

Haechan had no idea what was causing you to break down, or why you weren’t taking care of yourself. But getting you to eat was his priority, and he started by recommending your favorite dish.

Since then, he’s become a lot more protective and gone out of his way to take care of you more. Whenever he was down, you were always there to support him. So that’s what he was going to do for you.

✎__________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

The first thing he did after getting out of bed was to look for you. He was a little sulky that you didn’t get to wake up together. Especially since he hasn’t seen you in one month and two weeks. Jaemin loved his job, but he hated how it also brought this distance in between you two. What made him feel worse was how you never complained. Not even this time, when he showed up at your apartment at one a.m. Instead of scolding him for coming over at such a crazy hour or for walking to your place in the cold, you simply led him into your room to get some much-needed sleep.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for Jaemin to find you. He was greeted by one of his favorite aromas when entering the kitchen. And there you were at the counter, carefully pouring a pot of steaming dark liquid into a blue mug. Watching you he realized you had gotten up early to make coffee for him.

As his heart swelled with a dozen emotions, he walked up to stand behind you. Barely startled by his presence, you merely glanced upward to see the tired grin on his face.

“Did you sleep well?” He responded with a delicate kiss on your exposed neck.

His arms circled your waist, gently pulling your back to meet his chest. It was then, did he notice how his girlfriend’s waist was practically nonexistent, or in other words, thin. Thinner than usual and definitely not healthy.

Jaemin’s smile contorted into a look of concern. Slightly pulling away, he turned to you.

“Jagiya, have you been eating well?” His tone was soft, despite his deep voice.

Automatically, you could tell your boyfriend wasn’t speaking in a casual small talk way. Nonetheless, you pretended not to be fazed.

“I’ve been on a diet…” You set the coffee mug down.

He frowned. “What kind, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You cursed in your head, as you hurriedly made up a lie.

“A low-carb diet,” You tried your best to sound assertive.

“A low-carb diet or a no-carb diet?”

You froze in place when you noticed the hint of anger in the last part of his question. Jaemin slowly turned you around to face him. “(Y/n), be honest. Have you been eating well?”

Several seconds of silence passed by, as you couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“No.” There was a catch in your throat, as your lips quivered.

Jaemin brought you back into his embrace when you began to cry. His chin rested on the top of your head, as your tears soaked his shirt. His heart broke at the sound of your sobs. All he could do was press kisses into your hair, and pat your back.

You sniffed, “I just…I just see pictures of us, and I hate how I look when you’re so perfect.”

“(Y/n)-ah…”

“I know it sounds stupid. But I want to be a girlfriend who is also beautiful.”

Jaemin cupped the right side of your face and sighed, “(Y/n)-ah, you’ve always been beautiful to me. You don’t need to lose weight or do anything else to prove that.”

As comforting as his words were, Jaemin knew that it would take more than that to make you feel better. From then on, he didn’t miss a chance to shower you with compliments and affection. He loved you and had no problem making sure you believed that.

✎__________________________________________________________

CHENLE

You were currently on opposite sides of the room. Chenle was watching Instagram videos on his phone, and you were writing the next chapter to a story you started a while ago. This was agreeably considered hanging out with each other. Doing your own thing until someone broke the silence. And this time, it was Chenle.

His stomach growling did not go ignored by him. Naturally, he pulled up a delivery food app. He then paused and looked over to you who was typing away on your computer.

“(Y/n)-ahhh, I’m ordering food. What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” You replied, without looking up.

Chenle sat up in his spot on the couch. “Do you want tteokbokki?”

“Um, I’m not in the mood for tteokbokki.” He saw your head shake behind the computer.

“Jokbal?”

“Haechan will be upset if we eat that without him.”

“How about tonkatsu?”

“Eh…”

“Okay, what about-”

Losing concentration, you shut your laptop in frustration. “I’m not hungry! Just order something for yourself.”

“I want to eat with you though,” He whined. You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed before starting to speak again.

“But—”

“No buts. You’re going to come here and help me choose something.”

Just as you opened your mouth to protest, Chenle already decided he had enough. He lifted you from your chair which earned him an “are you crazy?” look. Then he brought you to where he was previously sitting. While doing so, he noticed that you were very light.

“How are you not hungry?” Chenle asked. “Your stomach is practically crying out to me.”

You wrapped your arms around your waist self-consciously. “You’re exaggerating, Chenle.”

Even though you made it sound like not a big deal, Chenle had a feeling there was an underlying problem here. He knew that you had a small appetite, but having no desire to eat was separate. For someone who was such a big foodie, the idea of his girlfriend starving herself worried him.

“We haven’t had a meal together in so long,” Chenle pretended to sulk. “But if you really don’t want to eat, I won’t force you.”

Ugh, you just couldn’t resist the rare look of sadness on the boy’s face. He knew you hated to be guilty.

So with a sigh, you slowly made a new suggestion. “Actually…maybe we can get tteokbokki. Can we just share the bowl?”

As if he wasn’t moping a second ago, Chenle smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Of course. Anything for you, Cutie.”

✎__________________________________________________________

JISUNG

He sat patiently in the lobby, waiting for you who was at a doctor's appointment. You insisted this was nothing but a normal check-up. But that didn’t stop Jisung from accompanying you. He stood up in slight surprise when you came out earlier than expected.

“(Y/n)-ah! You’re done?” You bobbed your head and grabbed his hand with a small smile.

Jisung noticed you were being quieter than usual during the drive to your place. But he thought you might be tired from a long day of classes before having to visit the doctor’s office. You’d probably feel better when you got back home.

Once you guys arrived, Jisung was left alone when you went to change into more comfortable clothes. As he plopped down on your small couch, his eyes darted to the medical papers you had previously left on the coffee table. Out of habit, Jisung picked up the papers to organize them.

However, your recorded weight on the first page caught him off guard. His eyes widened in horror at the number. He knew you were small, especially compared to his size. But he didn’t think you were underweight to the point that it was dangerous. This must’ve been why you barely said anything earlier.

Tears flooded his eyes in an instant when he saw you walk out of the room. Suddenly confused as to why your boyfriend was crying, your lips parted to ask what was wrong. Then you spotted the slightly crumpled papers in his hands.

“Jisung—I can explain,” You spoke calmly, in an attempt to keep your voice stable.

Jisung looked at you in despair. “Is this why I haven’t seen you eat lately? Or how you don’t want to go shopping together anymore?”

Your confirmed silence made him feel worse. Regardless he rushed up to hug you, engulfing your small frame into his taller figure. The two of you stayed in that position for a long time. Your fingers stroked his back as you also tried to calm him down. You made sure to reassure him that you knew you had a problem and were going to try to build better eating habits. Jisung would offer any support he could give you.

✎__________________________________________________________

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Text

daisy, porn links vol. 3

this one is centred around their summer after high school (chapter 10) and the time after the series (college vibes, we love)

there might be spoilers in this for the series

daisy series masterlist – p links vol. 1 – vol. 2 – vol. 4 – vol. 5

school is over and summer is upon us. sure, Steve is a bit sad that he's gonna have to say goodbye to the uniform, but it's good that he can cheer himself up a bit with flowy summer dresses...

beg and beg and beg on his knees till you occasionally wear them without anything under. give him easy access to tease you to his hearts content. watch as he gets you literally dripping down your thighs and wound up in a way that he might not even be ready for. although welcome the happy surprise none the less. it's his fault, if you can't get enough of him after he has cum, then that's his problem. he'll just have to take it (which he happily does omg, you can overstimulate him as much as you want)

and i mentioned that they go out on all sorts of adventures that summer? this one gives me trip to lovers lake. it starts off by Steve helping you with touching up your sunscreen and turns into this. he'd be whispering in your ear about how you never know who else could get the same urge for a dip in the water, maybe someone is just around the corner? maybe someone is already lurking behind those trees over there...

he'd totally also do that kind of thing where you go through all your memories together, like travel to the places where they happened. one day he takes you out into the woods at the exact spot where he told you that he loved you. it started out with him just being like well we have to reenact the kiss, but then before you knew it this happened.

and that road trip? *screams* CAR SEX!

he will make such a mess all over the seats...(ignore that the car is actually moving in this one lol)

and even at night when he's maybe driving the last bit before getting to one of the motels you were staying at, you're getting sleepy, getting comfy in the seat beside him. he just has his hand glued on your thigh, caressing it dangerously high. and the sleepier you get, the more you slump in the seat, gliding down and causing your dress to ride up... well, let's just say that he keeps you awake till you reach the motel...

but eventually you arrive at college, now with a new roomie at your little student apartment...

one could say that he's amazing company

he is your best friend after all

and now he's always just right there, ready to distract and help you relax, counteract some of that uni stress that is inevitable

one day you come home totally ready to fall back on the instant ramen that keeps so many students alive. but then, just as you enter the small kitchen, there is Steve! apparently, he's sick of watching you live off that stuff just because you don't have time. I have the time, I can learn how to cook! can't be that hard. so it becomes a ritual on days when your classes run long. you come home and sit up on the counter, watching the last few moments as he finishes up dinner

as soon as the food is in the oven and his hands are free, the pants are flying off! I've got you, ace, I've got you, he will whisper while keeping you from slipping off tiny sliver of the counter you're balancing on as he pounds into you

and even though you were done with private school, he still made sure you kept the uniform...

and living together means showering together.

and you two tend to get dirty so easily...

guess that just means a lot of showers!

steve, are you seriously hard again? I literally just blew you in the shower.

the former high school athlete even convinces you to join him at the gym, even if that just means never getting past your warm up because holy shit is your boyfriend hot when he's working out

you don't really wanna go to any college parties, but Steve keeps telling you how it's a crucial experience and that he'll go with you so that you won't get bored or even anxious. sure, you could say that he makes sure you have fun... he drags you into the frat house's bathroom after maybe a few too many shots, makes you stare at your own reflection as he fucks you from behind, telling you to ignore the crowd of guys that eventually gather outside the door once your activities became clear over the loud music. although, you can't help but notice how his own moans and grunts become louder as the audience outside offer drunken comments

one new years, this is his resolution. that's all. he just wants to train your throat throughout the new year so that you'll eventually be able to take him like that.

it's not because he needs you to learn that skill. you truly don't need to do anything but smile at him and he's blowing his load

and he knows he's huge and that you can barely even handle the tip, but fuck if he doesn't wanna try...

he just loves you so crazy much

and living together also means just all of the cosy domestic moments

just lazy little moments like this

an alarm clock? what even is that

from now on Steve is your alarm. he'll never let you get up late for class...

long story short, having your best friend as a roomie was a good idea

probably the best idea ever

#lea’s writing #daisy #p link #p links #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #stranger things p links #steve harrington p links #joe keery smut #perv!steve harrington x reader #perv!steve #perv!steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x you

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alexiswritingstuff · 9 months

Note

Just wanted to let you know that I've been binge reading all of your writings and I love them so much, keep up the good work! :)

I know you might have a lot of Gus requests, so it's okay if you put this one on the back burner for a bit. But I read the "Not So Scary After All" work and I was wondering if you could write a sort of sequel to it?

Maybe Jesse keeps trying to tell GN reader how obvious it is that he likes them. How he's seen him try not to smile when talking to reader, the softer tone of voice, things like that.

Reader obviously doesn't believe him and thinks that Gus is just being nice to his employees, especially the ones that are responsible for the cooks.

Anyways, after a few days of Jesse pestering the reader about it something happens to make them realize he might be right. I was thinking maybe they would make another mistake with the cook and Walter is there to see it. Maybe he gets mad, a little TOO mad, and Gus walks in 🤭 Or anything else works too! I just love the premise of a protective Gus that doesn't like to show how protective he actually is

First of all, thank you for the comment about my writings, I'm glad you have enjoyed them so far! Initially I didn't think about writing a part two, so I hope this does it justice, as well as that I hope it was what you were looking for!

Thank you for sending this in!

Not so scary after all. 2/2

Pairing: Gustavo x gender neutral reader.

Other appearances: Jesse Pinkman, Walter White.

Warnings: arguing, walter being a douche.

also be aware of spelling mistakes, or other errors. I do read these over but I can tend to miss stuff either way!

A/N: my brain has been fixated on other characters recently, so if these guys seem ooc then that may be why. It's hard to write scenes where gustavo is interested in another person because we barely get to see that in either show, so I also hope my portrayal of him just generally feels correct.

I hope you enjoy!

more Gustavo fics.

Taglist- @sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana

previous part.

It never mattered how many times you had gone through the same routine. Surprisingly, considering your line of work, waking up in the morning was always the most jarring part.

You could’ve had a great nights sleep, not woken up at any point, had no distractions or noisy neighbours. Yet the second you were in that car to get to the laundromat, it was like you had to force your eyes to stay open.

Which was apparently the same for Jesse too as there was a series of mumbles and grumbles that would fill the car every few seconds.

Each time you spared a glance to the passenger seat he would be leant further and further into window, his head bobbing whenever there was a difference in ground level or direction of the wheels.

It had you amused, but also a little concerned, “Did you wake up too early, or too late?”

Seeking no comfort from the hardness of the glass, and after his temple ended up smacking right into it, Jesse got himself to sit upright in a speed that closely resembled one of those stairlifts.

He groaned, having to make consistent attempts to keep his body from just slumping all together, “Both?” His hands raised to his head, the sides of his fingers beginning to rub at his eyes as if it would rid them of their tiredness.

In all honesty, outside of the cooking sessions and other shenanigans you found yourself in, you and Jesse never really... hung out. There would be times where you had lunch together, or had to show up to his house if there was something to drop off.

But that was mostly it.

And there wasn’t exactly a reason as to why. You had absolutely nothing against Pinkman, it was like the opposite. The more you spent time with him, the more you felt like some kind of guardian watching over some kid. Even if he also was an adult.

“You had breakfast, though, right?” Your gaze was trained on the lane ahead despite your ongoing conversation.

You had just turned onto a state road, meaning that, regardless of it being early in the morning, people were up and about. Trying to get to their jobs.

It always made it seem busier than it was.

At first, in response to your question, Jesse simply emitted another mumble of something. He was thinking, the intensity in which he rubbed at his eyes increasing for a moment, and then his hands dropped. “Oh,”

“Shit, I don’t... I don’t know.”

You supressed the urge to sigh. It had already happened a few times. Depending on what he did the night before, there would be some mornings where his mind was rattled enough that he would almost forget where he even was, so.

You came prepared.

“Well, I guess luck is on your side today.” you commented, flexing your fingers against the grips of the steering wheel, “There should be a sandwich or something in the back.”

By now Jesse’s head was leaning into the headrest, definitely having the same problem of trying to keep his eyes open like you did. The heat outside probably wasn’t a helpful factor either. “Seriously?”

You didn’t want to take your attention off of the road. The cars in front were starting to slow, and you needed to keep note of the distance from the ones at the back. “Check.” you told him, adjusting the rear view mirror for better visibility.

Jesse sort of rolled his head to the side after a moment, his chin almost knocking into the bone of his shoulder as his gaze cast onto the few items that were in the back seats.

He lazily blinked for a good few seconds, his eyes trying to adjust to the redirection of a sunlight beam. And then he saw it. Right in the middle.

A brown bag.

“No way.”

The next move he made was so fast that the seatbelt strapped around him had immediately stalled against his body, attempting to keep him in place at the assumption of sudden danger.

But that wasn’t enough to stop him at all.

He pushed against it once, then twice, and then one more time before simply manoeuvring himself around the belt so that the top half would basically be protecting the car seat instead of him.

When Jesse leaned himself between your seat and his, it was so much harder to keep your attention on the road. He was reaching out, arm extended as far as it could go and waving almost madly, until eventually, he grabbed the bag.

Jesse practically had to shove himself backwards to sit upright again, but soon he was able to resume his previous position with a big sigh of relief. Your head could only shake.

Now, there was this sound a rustling paper that filled the entire car as you moved onto the accompanying lane. Something that was definitely not supporting your concentration. “Damn.”

His voice was muffled, the noises coming out of his mouth barely even sounding like a word which in turn made you send him a look.

He had finally gotten to the sandwich. “You make this?”

“Nah, I had too many errands to run.” you informed with a slight sigh, finally beginning to let yourself relax in your seat, “Would’ve done it if I had the time, but I think that is better anyway.”

Jesse didn’t even have to speak for you to know his response. He had taken another bite, nodding his head just slightly in proper approval. If his eyes were closed it would look like he was in pure bliss.

After relentlessly chewing for a hot minute, he attempted to swallow it down, “I didn’t-- I didn’t take you as an early riser.” Yet his voice was still almost unintelligible.

“Well, believe it or not, other people are in fact active in the mornings.” you pointed out, slightly leaning to the side for further emphasis on who the comment was aimed at in a way that had Jesse rolling his eyes.

You swear you saw a clump of crumbs fly from his mouth when he next spoke, “Yeah, yeah-- You sure your too many errands wasn’t just you making sure that you looked good for a certain Fring?”

Your head snapped in his direction in a way that had looking back to the road immediately after, and probably almost gave you whiplash. But you saw it either way.

That damn grin had taken over his lips.

Again.

“Please don’t do this right now.”

Jesse had to clear his throat to stop himself from almost choking, “Aw come on, man, it’s-- There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you did.” Your head shook like it had done before, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It was always so stupid to you how the indirect mention of someone made your body react the way it did. You were only trying to get to work, yet your heart was acting as if you had just gone for a run.

“But I do.” The look you sent Jesse almost had him wanting to put his hands up if he wasn’t so focused on his sandwich, “What? I do-- Look, I may not have that much experience, or whatever, but there is totally something going on.”

“Definitely on his end at least.” He moved the sandwich around in his hands, trying to locate the best part to bite as he had finally swallowed the last one, “I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve seen him give you the look.”

Your eyebrows furrowed within seconds, “The... The what now?” You tried to turn in his direction for confirmation, but he seemed a bit too busy to notice your movement.

Due to a junction being up ahead, your foot had moved onto the foot break, watching the lights fully change the closer you drew.

“The look.” Jesse finally repeated, his mouth full all over again in a way that needed real concentration to understand the words coming out of it, “Yeah, he gives you the look, like, all the time.”

Soon, the car in front of you had fully stopped, and then so did yours as you put it into first gear, keeping your feet on the first two pedals.

The moment the car had stopped moving, you turned to Jesse within seconds, eyebrows furrowed more than they had ever been. “What is the look?”

Pinkman gave you a simple glance at first, thinking that you were just messing around as he kept munching away... But no matter how much time went by, you didn't move. Still watching him.

His chewing slowed when his head turned back in your direction. He just blinked for a moment. “You don’t know... You don’t know what the look is?”

Your chin lowered, your eyelids slightly doing the same, “Does it sound like I know what it is?”

“Okay, but... how?” Despite Jesse’s previous complete interest in his sandwich, it lowered with his hands to his lap. There was utter confusion written all over his face while he remained smacking away. “How do you not-- How old are you?”

Your attention went to the road ahead all over again, the back of your head sinking into the headrest as a huff left your lips, “Older than you.” you pointed out, trying to sound more authoritative, but that just seemed to spark an already lit flame.

“Then how do you not see it, huh? I mean, even I can tell that it’s pretty obvious-- And not just because of the look either,” Jesse fully twisted in his seat so that he faced you, “He like... He wants to actually, like, talk to you, and shit-- I’ve seen him smile-- genuinely smile at you, okay?"

“Now, if he was doing it to me? I would... Man, I would be terrified-- But it’s you, it’s... different.” You were trying so hard not to shake your head again, but Jesse’s voice practically being right in your right ear was making it a lot more difficult. “It’s something else--”

“It’s not...” You regripped the steering wheel, “You do realise we’re talking Gustavo Fring, right?” Your head attempted to turn back to Jesse, though your eyes were trying to keep the attention on the road as one of the final vehicles seemed to cross through the junction.

“Exactly!” Jesse practically threw his arms up, almost losing his grasp on the sandwich in the process, “You should be caring about this more than you do.”

Your head shook as your gaze fully went back to the road, your foot readying to release the clutch while your fingers tapped against the steering wheel in anticipation.

You were trying to find something to zone in on, something to distract yourself from the kid sitting in your passenger seat as he was still eagerly trying to get you to see the things the way he did. But you weren’t giving it to him.

“Fine then.” Jesse reached behind him, grabbing the top half of the seatbelt, pulling it until it was in front of him again, before he ducked himself beneath.

“But I’m telling you, Y/n.” It was back, slinging diagonally across his torso by the time he was seated properly, and also by the time the lights had finally turned green.

“You’ll see.”

There was something about this day that was starting to feel a little familiar.

You and Jesse had arrived ages ago. You had gone down the windy red stairs, did the whole thing of taking off unnecessary clothing so that you wouldn’t completely boil in the obnoxiously yellow protective suit you would put on next.

And at first, once you were all geared up, the two of you stood in front of the machines. Your heads were raised, eyes cast up to the walkway above as you awaited the arrival of your usual partner at their usual time...

But the door never opened.

There was no proper estimate for how long the two of you just stayed waiting as you had set your watch to the side, and the clock was on the other side of the room, however, there was one thing you knew for sure. Someone was late.

Eventually, the two of you were trying to compensate, finding something useful to do while giving the benefit of the doubt that maybe it was just tough traffic or something going on that made them lose track of time.

Though, the ability to sympathise got smaller and smaller the more minutes began to turn into full on hours.

You found yourself at your usual table with your hand supporting the weight of your head, attempting to occupy your mind by looking over the paperwork from passed cooks. A habit that you only recently developed.

“Dude,” you heard somewhere to your side before there was an exasperated sigh, and a quick creaking of a chair, “What the hell is taking him so long?”

Earlier, Jesse had taken one of the other wheeled chairs from the table connected to yours and had rolled somewhere, enough so that you could only see him from the corner of your eye.

His body was slumped back, the seat beneath him creaking with every move that he made. And considering that he didn’t have anything to do, that was like every. Single. Second.

He had tried out the difference created when he would shift his weight, tested what it would feel like to have his legs hanging over the left side of the chair and then the right, he had pushed his feet onto the floor to roll himself backwards and forwards against the smooth tiles.

And now, as apparently none of that had seemed to have settle his mind, Jesse had resorted to zipping and unzipping the protective suit he was so ready to take off by now. Over, and over... And over again. “Okay,”

“That’s it.”

The pencil held in your gasp was cast to the side of the notepad, you were barely looking at this point, before your hands moved to the edge of the table so that you could push against it enough that your chair started to roll.

You stood up, winding round the seat that was still on the move as you began to walk towards one of the pathways between the machines. Jesse fully planted his feet on the ground, “Yo, Y/n, where are you going?”

Your fingers grasped onto the zip of your suit and you yanked it down as far as you could without having to bend for the rest, beginning to pulling your arms out one after the other moments after.

You moved round that damn settling tank and soon ended up at the wall where you would keep or hang up your loose items. “I...” you began, your voice becoming strained as you bent down to free your feet of those big welly boots, “am going to find out what the hell is going on.”

The squeak of a chair echoed somewhere to the back of the room. “Well, don’t-- Don’t leave me in here by myself.”

Finally, after one last tussle, your, once worn, protective suit was now sprawled on the ground beside the clothing rack. You moved to your usual shoes, putting either feet in their respective ware before tying the laces to make sure they wouldn’t fall off.

Before Jesse could even appear by your side to complete the same process, you were on the move once again, directing towards those windy red stairs that always made you feel like you were going to fall up and/or down them.

“Y/n, wait, dude, wait-- Just give me a minute.” You could hear the hurried rustling of plastic suit echoing through the steps you took on the metal staircase.

Eventually, when your movements had allowed you to arrive at the cat walk, you found yourself complying to Jesse’s words... While the man himself was still trying, and failing, to get the suit off.

It gave you a moment to catch a breath you hadn’t been able to take all day. You were stood high, looking down at the problems below, and not drowning neck deep in it like you usually did.

A deep breath sucked into your nostrils as you let your eyes fall closed, the air of the lab starting to cool the warmth that had festered across your skin--

A sharp whistle squealed through from your left before it bounced around each wall one after the other.

Your eyes had snapped open as soon as the sound appeared, but it wasn’t until your head had started to turn that your brain realised what it had come from.

It was the door.

Your body twisted in the direction of the man who was almost stumbling across the cat walk, a series of huffs and puffs spluttering from his mouth that would have you worrying any other day.

But as of now, all you did was cross your arms over your chest.

“Yo, Mr. White! What the hell took you so long, dude?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he began through a slight wheeze that ended with him doing this horrendous cough. And once he was about three steps in front of you, he stilled his apparently over exhausted body, using a hand to shift his weight onto the railing, “There was... car trouble, and stuff with the kids, you-- you know kids.”

“You would think, maybe, after the first one that it was going to get easier and then...”

In the midst of Mr. White stabilising himself, his head had turned to the right in at attempt to locate Jesse, which wasn’t hard to do considering the fact that he was still taking off that damn suit, to further emphasis his... guilt?

But instead, after he did a sort of double take, he began to slowly face you once again, “Why aren’t any of the machines on, why... Why aren’t you wearing your suit?”

“We were waiting for you. I was just about to try and find at least someone to tell us where you were.”

“Wait... Wait a minute,” Mr. White started, holding his hands up while he took a step closer. “You didn’t start?” His chin slightly lowered in a way that made his eyes peer at you over his glasses.

“No?” you stated simply, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden change to his demeanour, “After last time... We didn’t think you wanted us to do it by ourselves.”

“But that was-- That was last time, Y/n.” With every word that the man spoke, his hands rose higher and higher until they were inches away from touching his face, “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

The urge to scoff was stronger than ever, and you had to hold it back more than you ever had in your life, “I think I should be asking you that question.”

The man before you began shaking his head in a way that was almost not visible. “I told you... I was having problems with my car.” For a moment his expression remained the way it was, a visible attempt at holding back what you were guessing was anger.

But then it failed.

“I have... a family to take care of...” His hands dropped to his sides. When he next spoke the corners of his mouth slightly downturned like there was utter distaste for the words coming out of his mouth, “They are not going to be put at expense because, again, you weren’t able to do a simple job.”

Regardless of how loud it usually was when someone walked up the windy stairs, right now, as Jesse began to do just that, it was barely audible to your ears. The sound fading more and more the longer you stared at the man before you. “Guys, can we just--”

“I am doing my job just fine, Mr. White.” you started up with this lack of emotion to your voice, trying to make it as clear as possible that you wanted to get this over and done with, “We just didn’t want to do another batch all by ourselves, simply, because you couldn’t be bothered to show up.” Though it seemed your mouth had other plans.

There was something that almost satisfactory when you saw a side of his face twitch. But soon, it was one that ended with this sort of smile curling at his lips, his eyebrows raising more than you had ever seen in your time working with him. “Oh.”

“So, you want me to apologise for making a singular mistake? Is that it?” He took yet another step towards you, “You know what, how about we count how many times you have made-- No, caused, a mistake, hmm?”

You couldn’t count the amount of voices that were telling you to take a step back, to move away the closer he got to stand directly in front of you, “But that wasn’t only my fault-- There’s a big difference between actually trying and just not showing up.”

Your feet remained planted on the ground beneath. Your arms were held tighter than ever across your torso as you tried to maintain the blankest expression possible.

“Dude, both of you just... just chill out, please.” Jesse tried to insist as he walked up the last few steps, but no one paid any attention to his words, “We can-- We can work this out--”

“You allowed a contamination,” Mr. White began, narrowing his eyes as if in disbelief, “How did you-- Did they not teach you to read, or listen, to instructions in school?”

“My education has nothing to do with this.” you insisted without missing a beat. And regardless of your attempts to keep your composure, it was inevitable that something began slipping into your voice.

You had been up early.

You had been running back and forth to make sure that certain things were sorted for certain people, had to drive all the way to downtown to pick up Jesse and then all the way back up to get here. To work.

And then, while at work, you weren’t even able do your damn job because your other partner, that was supposed to be there at a specific time by contract, just didn’t show up.

Which then lead you and Jesse to have to stand and do absolute jack shit for hours on end.

Walter just shook his head again, even raising his hands like he was about to shove you or something, though he might have wanted to simply point a finger, “Well, apparently it does, because if you still aren’t competent enough to follow something so basic, then--”

“What is going on here?”

Within the next second, the man in front of you had twisted round in a way that almost gave you whiplash just from watching. He stepped to the side, and moved backwards until he was practically next to you. “Oh, Gus, I, uh... We were just... Slow start.”

But, of course, he was still a little ahead.

Your feet, however, hadn’t moved an inch. In fact the only move you made was to let your arms finally fall free to your sides as you stared onwards.

It was Gustavo. He was stood in the doorframe, one hand pressing against the weighted metal so that he had enough time to take in his surroundings. And then he took the final step inside.

It was only when the door closed behind him that you realised you hadn’t even heard it open in the first place.

The lab was back to what it had been minutes ago. Silent. No sound at all filtering throughout the entire room.

Gustavo stilled himself not far from the door he had walked through, but enough so that you could feel his presence as well as see it. His arms were unmoving by his sides, a trait that would’ve carried out through his entire body if he hadn’t started moving his head.

Like Walter had done when he arrived, Gustavo looked at the room below. He studied it, looked from one section to the other while noting the quietness that was effecting even him.

And then he turned back to the people across from him, the expression on his face unwavering, “Why is that? There’s nothing in the machines.”

“You know, ex-- exactly.” the man to your side suddenly spoke up, snapping your attention from the other guy you wanted to look at a little longer. “I had... countless problems with a lot of things this morning, and I wasn’t able to arrive on time.”

Walter sort of took a step forward, but instead of what you would naturally think of when someone carried out such a movement, he didn’t properly face Gustavo.

He stood side on, his body turned towards the machines so he could look at you or his boss with a simple movement of his head. And as of now, you seemed to be his main target. “Apparently they couldn’t be bothered to start the batch themselves.”

“That’s not true.” You mirrored his stance, faced directly towards him, instead of the man who was just trying to seek answers, as your eyebrows furrowed as much as they could.

Walter tilted his head, “You sure?” he asked, using the most condescending voice that would of set you off had you already lost the grasp on your, slowly dissipating, self control.

“Yes, I don’t understand--” Your hand rose to your face, fingers pressing into the skin beneath before dragging down to your chin. And then they dropped. You took in a deep breath. “Look... I admit it, sure, we could have started the cook. But.”

“Me and Jesse both thought it was smarter to wait after the previous mistake,” you began, emphasising your point by gesturing to the dude who was now stood behind, and his eyes sort of widened at the sudden attention.

This time it was you who took the step forward. “But yet again,” You made sure to hold yourself back from blinking as you stared right at the man who was trying so hard not to cut you off, your fists clenched at your sides. “You. Weren’t. Here.”

Your heart was thudding in your ears, a sound louder than any other thing in the room. The exhaustion was rampant through your body, continuously attacking system, and at this point testing your patience that had already become thin.

The ability to control anything was about one minute away from collapsing.

“Why were you late, Mr. White?”

When Gustavo’s voice caught your ears, you hadn’t even bothered to look his way despite the fact that Walter did. In fact, he took the chance to move away from you, which almost made him bump into the other railing.

“Car troubles, and, uh... family stuff, too, you know... all that.” he informed, his voice and the look of his face switching into one that you could instantly tell was the fakest attempt of trying to get sympathy.

“And you didn’t inform anyone of these... troubles?”

Your head turned in about a second, your gaze snapping to the man who hadn’t moved a singular inch since the last time you properly saw him. His attention was only on Walter, his eyes now slightly narrowed.

“What...” Mr. White started, the shock clear within his voice and the expression on his face, “Are you... Are you trying to say that this is my fault?”

“I am not saying anything, Mr. White.” Gustavo’s turned in the mans direction with such slowness that had a look of regret taking over anything else that was threatening to appear on Walters face. And once he stilled, he had even slightly tilted it to the side, “I am simply asking questions to understand why a job hasn’t been completed.”

Walter let out this sort of scoff of a sound as he gestured with his hands like before, “Well, then your asking the wrong person, Gus.”

He pointed towards you, this time not even bothering to look unless it was to make sure his finger was actually aimed in your direction, “They... They have been here for who knows how long, I... I-- I mean, the batch could’ve finished by now, if they just--”

“You are putting the blame... on them?” Gustavo’s voice was low, deep in pitch that it was almost gravelly and harsh to any ears that heard it. There was no direct tone, or emotion clear within it. But paired with the slow step forward, anyone could tell that it wasn’t good.

“You are putting the blame on a person who was actively trying to solve a problem that you created... because you weren’t competent enough to make a phone call?”

You were use to his intimidation tactics. In all honesty, usually, it seemed even more affective when he wasn’t using them, like when he wore that smile that never really reached his eyes.

But this...

This was different.

When Gustavo wanted to intimidate someone, or remind them of their place in the bigger picture. He had relationships to maintain, an act to keep up so that nothing could expose him and/or his business, so he never risked insulting a person in case it would backfire, create unnecessary problems.

Gustavo Fring wasn’t a man who directly insulted someone unless he was going to gain something from it... Well, apparently, until now.

For the next few seconds it seemed that Mr. White couldn’t find the exact reaction he had. His lips twitched almost every way that they could, his mouth would open and close again and again like he was mimicking a fish, all the while his head began to shake once again, “I don’t... I don’t know what to say-- I can’t... Gus, I just--”

“I have heard all I needed.” There were no movements that accompanied his words. No change to his voice a part from a mild show of a tested patience. Gustavo just stared at the man before him, unblinking, “You still have plenty time to cook.”

“You can’t be serious--”

“That’s what you came here to do... Is it not?” Gustavo pointed out simply, his head tilting to the side in a way that almost made him look like a puppy. But his face said all that it needed to.

Walter sort of cowered, avoiding the mans gaze as he took a moment to think, “I... I-- Well... Yes, but--”

In about a second, though there was almost nothing displayed on Gustavo’s face, everything sort of... dropped? His eyelids lowered in a way that wasn’t enough to hide his eyes but it was still visible, his jaw unclenched, his lips almost looked like they were turning down the way.

But again. Not once did he blink.

“Then cook.”

For a solid ten seconds, there was just utter silence. Someone could have drop a pin on the other side of the room, and it would still echo like any other sound. No one moved. No one twitched. No one spoke.

Walter took in a deep breath, his shoulders deflating when it made its way back out. And then he turned, beginning to do just as Gustavo said this time without any argument.

But the moment you started to do to the same thing--

“Not you.”

You froze. Your body hadn’t even managed to twist yet, so after sending a look to Jesse who sent one right back, you simply rocked back on your feet, resuming the same position you were in before.

His eyes were only on yours. The first time he had fully looked at you since he had entered the room.

“We have... other matters to discuss.”

After you left the room, it was practically silent when you began to walk.

There was the usual sounds that occurred from the machines within the laundromat, and the workers who you were still not sure knew about the giant meth lab beneath there feet, but between you and Gustavo there was nothing.

No exchange of words and barely even the sound of your own footsteps.

He was a few steps ahead of you, which may have been one of the main reasons, as he lead you across the paths that had big machines towering over you on each side.

There would be a few moments were you had to duck, or even completely manoeuvre, around certain objects that were hung, either needing to dry or they were connected to a moving system that would bring clothes from one section to another.

You had no idea where you were going. The second the two of you had officially exited the lab, his lips had became sealed. He just started walking, and of course, you only had one response to that.

Your gaze pretty much remained on Gustavo’s back no matter how far you went, only fleeting to make sure that you weren’t going to bump into anything, as you followed the man in front of you like a lost duckling... Though, you felt more like a child getting ready to be told off.

Eventually, after stopping yourself from getting caught up in the thoughts swirling through your mind, you found yourself walking out of the big vertical door. The entrance of the laundromat.

If your heart wasn’t pounding before it sure was now. And no matter how badly you wanted to just focus on the feeling of fresh air after being stuck in an underground room for what felt like, and probably was, about five hours... Gustavo stopped walking.

He was stood at the edge of the paved platform, hands moving to clasp behind his back as he resumed that usual straight posture.

Your steps grew slower the more close you got to standing by his side. You wanted to gage his mood, predict what was about to happen or what he was going to say, which was a bit difficult considering that you could only see the back of his head.

You cleared your throat when you had arrived to the right of him. Your eyes were slightly narrowed, adjusting to the sudden presence of the sun, while you gently leaned back and forth on your feet.

“Sir, I... I’m really sorry about this... Again,” you had begun, but almost immediately your speech planned in your head seemed to have fallen apart.

You turned your head to the side, trying to properly convey your apology through your face more than your words. “I know it doesn’t help the business, but I really, really, don’t know why this keeps happening--”

“Y/n.”

You had already been looking at Gustavo throughout your words. And maybe it was because you were too caught up in your mind, or because originally the man before you had been gazing into the distance with the usual expression that barely gave you anything to work with.

But now he was looking right back at you.

“Yes?” you answered subconsciously in a way that had your mouth snapping shut immediately after realising that you didn’t need to actually do that.

This time, Gustavo’s chin lowered, “I’m not going to scold you, Y/n.” His gaze was the most gentle you had ever seen it, along with sound of his voice. He may have said the words simply, and matter of factly, but his face told you otherwise.

You sort of just stood there for a moment, blinking at him. “You... You’re...” And then your eyebrows furrowed all over again, your body turning so that you faced him directly, “You’re not?”

Gustavo kept looking at you, and finally, since thatsituation with Mr. White, you weren’t presented with an expression of judgement. It wasn’t a look that visibly told that they thought whatever they were seeing was utter stupidity.

He took in a breath, letting his eyes fall back on the busy town ahead for a split second, before they were back on your own, “I want you to go home.”

His voice was lighter, the expression on his face no longer holding the tension that had clung to his skin.

Your lips parted, even if no sound initially came out. You stared back at him for a moment, your eyes a little wider than they were before, almost unblinking, “Did I mess up that badly?”

Gustavo’s eyebrows furrowed so quickly that you hadn’t caught onto it until he turned his body in your direction, “Forgive my phrasing.” he started, his hands remaining behind his back no matter the change of position, “This is not a punishment.”

With his next words, Gustavo made sure that you were looking at him, right into his eyes, just in case his meaning was conveyed through his voice, “You are not in trouble for the wrongdoings of another man.”

... Were you missing something? Why would Gustavo take you out of the lab?

I mean, sure, you made the deduction that not starting the batch might’ve not been such a great idea, and honestly at some point expected to get a good talking too because of it. Maybe it would be the final straw...

But here you were. Theman himself, the big boss, stood right in front of you. Directly telling you that you’re not in trouble.

“Then... I’m going to have to say that I don’t understand, Sir.” The muscles beneath your brows were getting a good work out from consistently changing between being normal and then furrowed within, practically, every thirty seconds, “We still have a batch to do, a deadline to follow.”

Influenced yet again by a man stood before you, “And who is that for?”

Your whole body felt like it wanted to deflate, fall limp and just collapse on the ground. This time it wasn’t in anger, or fear, or annoyance. It was because after everything, you could exhale the nerves that had clung to your insides. There was no use for them now.

You lightly nodded your head, the fact of not being in trouble officially processing in a way that had your gaze lowering, “... You.”

Gustavo wanted to smile. He wanted to display his pride of finally cracking the code that was your mind, having created even a bit of equal understanding, but he could still see the ghost of the previous expression that held your face hostage. The genuine concern over possible harming his business.

And him.

“I am not asking you to leave because I think that you are bad at your job, or that you don’t do anything for this business-- Because that would be entirely wrong.” he started up with this new voice that was difficult to ignore, “I am simply saying that you have the day off.”

“It is... normal in a workplace, is it not?”

By the time your eyes met Gustavo’s, your brows had furrowed once again, though now, it was for a very different reason, “I mean... Yes-- But not in this business, just...”

There was a huff of air that passed through your lips. Theexhaustion from earlier was presenting itself back into your system, making the want to talk become a lot less than before, “Let me-- Let me go back in there, we can work, we can... we can get it done.”

Gustavo’s head began shaking before you had even finished your sentence, “I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” you questioned, leaning back slightly so that you could fully take in his demeaner, analyse any look that took over his face, “I thought you said that I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“You didn’t.” he insisted almost immediately, the expression he wore going blank the way it usually did. But now wasn’t the time. “Then...” You took in yet another breath to cut off your words, trying to suppress the urges to sigh, scoff, or the sudden want to raise your voice, “Why?”

To say this day felt long was truly an understatement. Things just kept happening one after the other and still you were left in the dark. No answer as to why things progressed into the situations they had.

“Y/n, I am not... risking the loss of more time to arguing.” It was like you could visibly see the words he chose to say. The pure caution, decisions careful enough so that he wouldn’t set off the things he could see getting ready in your eyes, “I know that if you go back in there, Mr. White will not... let go. Not unless I place someone in there to stand and watch at all times.”

“All I am telling you is that you are free to go while I... sort things out.” Gustavo somehow made himself stand taller, trying to prove the confidence in which was already heard in his voice and to also prepare for the possibility of you finally reacting in the way that your body had wanted to for hours.

But despite what he had envisioned playing out, or tried to predict, it was pretty much the opposite. In fact, the only proper reaction to his words was your shoulders deflating, ridding your muscles of its constant worry.

And then you crossed your arms over your chest, sniffing as you did so, “And what about Jesse... Mr. White? What-- What about them?” you questioned, waiting for the words to settle before you looked back into those other pair of eyes, only to find that the look from earlier had repossessed his face, “It may not seem like it, but I assure you, Y/n.”

“Mr. Pinkman and Mr. White can handle it themselves.”

For the first time throughout the entire day, you felt the want to smile. “Okay then.” You nodded your head once, your grip tightening on your arms as you took a step backwards, “Thank you, uh... Mr. Fring. It seems you have saved me again.”

“Gus. Call me Gus, and please, there is no need to thank me.” Gustavo started up before you could even try to turn in the direction of your car, “It comes under being an employee.”

Your body stilled after about one more steps backwards, your eyes narrowing at the man before you, playfully, “Then how come I haven’t heard you getting protective when someone else makes a mistake?”

Gustavo mirrored the look on your face, “I wasn’t... I wasn’t being... protective?” In his case, however, he wasn’t doing it in a teasing sort of manner, he was just genuinely confused at the comment. “I simply understood the situation and acted accordingly.”

Your arms loosened in your hold until they lowered to your sides once again, “And yet you defended me.” If you were close enough to Gustavo you would probably have started circling him, “Even though I was in the wrong... both times.”

Gustavo unfurrowed his brows, “You weren’t in the wrong just because some man has an incorrect idea of authority… and a very poor concept of time.” His tone was the flattest you had ever heard it. There was no emotion behind it until the words of... slight insult.

The urge to smile grew stronger that had you pressing your lips together to stop yourself from letting out a laugh. “Still,” Though, after a moment, you managed to compose yourself, “If you hadn’t arrived when you did...”

Gustavo huffed air through his nose, bowing his head a tad before he let it shake a few times. When he looked back up it was clear that he was trying to hold back whatever was wanting to take over his face, but you could see it in his eyes.

“Go home.”

There was this feeling of giddiness begging to erupt in your chest. It spread a warmth to every part of your body until it was a collective feeling. It caught you of guard, causing the smile you were trying to hide begin to curl at your lips.

So, after a sharp breath and a nod as a thanks, you sort of ducked away, twisting yourself around so that you could make your way towards your car.

However, the nearer that you got to the vehicle, it seemed there was a thought pushing itself further and further to the centre of your mind. It may have been more of a feeling, as you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to go back to your house.

I mean, sure, being able to take a nice long shower, grab a bite to eat, and completely flop on your bed sounded... Well, pretty nice actually.

But the next session for a batch was now going to be days away.

Days from your work and a certain Fring.

You had completely stilled about a step away from your car. There was a quiet breath that huffed through your nose, one that only you could hear, “You know what, actually.”and then you turned on your heel, the concrete practically scuffing under your shoe. “I’ve worked for you for quite some time now, and yet…”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your restaurant.”

The man your eyes managed to focus on seemed to be closer than he was the last time you saw him. A fact that made your brain almost completely miss the words that came out of his mouth. “Well, it’s not an obligation.”

There was something about the look on his face. Something about the way he pressed his lips together immediately after he finished speaking. He may have assured that the visit wasn’t needed, but... there might have still been a want.

“What hours is it open?” you asked, the sound of your voice almost echoing through the parking area, even if the noises from the active laundromat were louder.

Gustavo’s head slightly rose after a moment, one of his brows slightly twitching as he processed your question. And then he cleared his throat, “That would depend on the day.” he informed, readjusting the hands he still held behind his back.

You hummed in response, letting your gaze fall into the distance as you thought.

Honestly, after the past few hours you could barely remember what part of the week you were in right now. So, instead, you thought back to what a usual week would look like.

What was the day that was perfectly set between the times you would possibly be able to see Gustavo at work? Right in the middle?

“How about Thursday?” you suggested, now watching as Gustavo began to make his way across the concrete, slightly nodding his head, “Then... Seven to ten, I believe.”

“All right,” you breathed out, the speed in which your heart beat increased the more the man approached. “One less lunch to plan for the week.” You practically gulped as you reached backwards, fingers patting against the cool metal of the vehicle for a moment until they located the handle.

Gustavo stilled himself about three steps in front of you, the look on his face signalling that he was thinking about something as he wasn’t making direct eye contact, “Actually... I would suggest to come around dinner time.”

Just as you were about to tug on the handle, your hand froze, along with pretty much every other part of your body.

The man was now looking right at you, his voice sort of timid in a way that caught you even more off guard. And apparently himself too. “It’s... more quiet.” He cleared his throat, “Less people around.”

Your arm slowly moved back to your side, releasing the warm handle from any sort of grasp.

There was a fight going on in your chest. A want to give into the urge of running away like you would’ve done in a situation close to this as a kid. But you weren’t a child anymore, far from it.

It took a good moment for any sound to be able to roll off of your tongue. And as soon as something eventually had, it was like your lungs remembered how to properly function. “Will you be there?”

You felt younger. The two of you may have been stood pretty much right in front of the other, yet neither of you could maintain eye contact longer than a few seconds before you collectively had to look away, no matter how confident either one of you tried to seem.

Gustavo cleared his throat, though it sounded like it had barely done anything. “I believe so.” he finally confirmed, and regardless of the fact that his voice was still quiet, there was this tone that took over his words.

“Well, good...” That giddy feeling returned, even if it had probably never left. “I think I probably would still go if you weren’t there, but... it would be a lot less... fun.”

The man before you let the slightest smile curl at a side of his mouth, “Well, we wouldn’t want that now would we?” He sounded more breathy this time, a natural progression from his already quiet voice. But it wasn’t because of nerves, or a reaction of his lungs, which you had initially thought. It was intentional.

“Not at all.” Your voice in question was more full than his, however, there was this slight whisper to it, as if Gustavo should be the only person allowed to hear it.

“Then it’s settled,” he began, slightly lowering his head in away that had your back pressing into your car. His normal tone had seeped back through his words like he was back in boss mode. But not quite Gustavo Fring just yet. “How does... eight o’clock sound? Unless you eat earlier?”

Your head shook practically without a second of hesitance. The ability to move your lips was barely thereso you resorted to moving to the side, finally pulling on the handle of your car door until it swung out far enough that you could stand behind it.

You could see Gustavo raise his eyebrows just the slightest as the door had created a sort of separation, and it had you biting back a grin. “It’s perfect.” you insisted, trying to sound as neutral as possible despite the, possibly, clear ways you felt at that moment.

And then you lowered yourself into the car, having to slightly shifted backwards a little bit to properly get into the drivers seat before you swung your legs inside.

Your hand grasped the inside of your door, your fingers making certain that they had a good grip, before your eyes landed on the figure through the glass of the window that hadn’t moved an inch.

And then you smiled.

“Gus.”

#gustavo fring #gus fring #gustavo fring x reader #breaking bad x reader #breaking bad #brba #gender neutral reader

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