#And often much more if we’re answering asks
Text
of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 2/34 - decaf coffee
[Read on AO3]
In the next week, the topic of adoption doesn’t come up again, and she tries to put it out of her mind as much as possible. They wrap up their case, spending several dull hours working on their reports, and wait impatiently for something else to come across their desk, ideally something a little more intellectually stimulating than the last few duds they’ve worked.
The good thing about not having any cases, though, is that no one blinks twice when they take a long lunch here, or leave work a few minutes early at the end of the day there. A spontaneous mid-morning coffee break at their favorite cafe down the street gets them out of the building, enjoying a rare warm day in December.
On the way to the coffee shop, they walk side by side—as always—until Scully stops suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Oh, Mulder. Look,” she says sadly.
He follows her gaze to the other side of the street, where a little boy no older than four stands with frightened eyes, looking back and forth helplessly while busy businessmen and women in suits pass by without sparing him a glance.
Mulder checks for cars quickly before jogging across the street, giving Scully little warning before taking off. She follows behind, carefully dodging traffic as it approaches.
“Hey, buddy, you lost?” Mulder asks, approaching the boy and kneeling down to his height.
The boy nods, red-faced and eyes brimming with tears.
“That’s okay, we’ll help you get this figured out,” he says consolingly. “Are you here with your mom?”
“Uh huh,” the little boy answers shakily.
Mulder gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. “Alright, well let’s find her, yeah?”
“Okay.”
“I’m Fox and this is Dana,” he says, nodding up at her. “We work for the FBI, do you know what that is?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Well, we’re kind of like cops.”
He sniffles.
“What’s your name, bud?”
“William.”
The world slows to a halt, and Scully’s eyes widen.
It’s a common name. So common, in fact, that she can name at least six Williams, Wills, or Bills off the top of her head without hesitating. But that’s exactly the problem.
It’s a family name. Both her family, and Mulder’s.
Fox William Mulder.
“William? Hey, that’s my middle name!”
She won’t think about it. She won’t think about the way that she wanted to use that name, if they were lucky enough to succeed at in vitro fertilization. She won’t think of that little boy she pictured, or the man she hoped would stay and be his father.
“Really?” William asks, eyes lighting up for the first time.
Mulder smiles. “Yeah, better than Fox, right?”
She hears a giggle, and remembers Emily. Mulder got her to laugh, too, even under the most harrowing circumstances. She shakes her head, focusing on the situation at hand. She won’t be of any help if she can’t get her head out of the clouds.
Mulder asks, “You know what your mommy’s name is?”
“Um—Susan,” William answers.
“That’s great. Good job, buddy, that helps. Where did you last see her?”
“We goed to get me shoes for playing soccer,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Soccer, huh? I’m partial to baseball myself—”
“Mulder—” Scully stops him, tapping him on the shoulder. When he looks at her, she points to the other side of the road, and he nods his thanks.
“Hey, look, there’s a shoe store across the street,” he says triumphantly, refocusing in on William. “I bet you she’s right over there looking for you!”
He stands, reaching out his hand for William to hold, and they cross the street together with Scully following closely behind. She watches them, and thinks that if she were a passerby, she might think they were father and son, out for a midday stroll.
It’s a side of Mulder she doesn’t often get to see. A side she suspected lay dormant for a long time after Samantha disappeared, but it’s still there, popping up here and there when it is needed.
“Hey, Scully, can you go in and check if there’s a Susan in there?” Mulder asks, looking to her for assistance. “I want to stay out here in case she comes by looking for him.”
She nods, clearing her head once again of the swirling thoughts that had occupied her. “Yeah, of course.”
She goes in and comes back out just as quickly, shaking her head despondently.
“The clerk said she and her son left about 10 minutes ago,” she reports.
“Did he say which way they went?”
“To the right.”
Mulder glances in that direction and nods. “10 minutes, well she couldn’t have gotten far. We found him just over there,” he says optimistically. “William, keep an eye out for if you see her.”
“Okay,” he agrees.
They head to the right, Mulder now carrying William on his shoulders up above the crowds. They pass a few stores, finding no luck so far, but then are startled when some pedestrians up in front of them nearly get bowled over by the sudden opening of a shop door. A frantic woman exits, then darts off, apologizing as she goes.
Mulder starts jogging, knowing that it must be the mother. He dodges other people walking, skirting between them expertly, which leaves Scully behind by a fair few paces. Luckily, she’s used to it. The woman is poised to enter the next shop when he calls out, “Susan?”
She turns.
“I think this little one belongs to you.”
An instant wave of relief washes over the woman’s face, and she runs to reach them. “William!” she gasps.
The boy all but leaps into her arms, curling in close while she strokes the back of his head, comforting them both.
“Where did you find him?” she asks through tears, holding tight to her wayward son.
“Just across the street,” Mulder says with a smile, pointing to where they came from.
Susan sighs in muted frustration. “There’s an ice cream shop over there, I should have known.”
“My sister did the same thing when I was about 9. Gave us all a heart attack,” Mulder chuckles.
The casual mention of his sister causes Scully to look at him in shock, but he’s too preoccupied to notice.
“I can’t thank you enough. I turned my back for one second.”
“No problem, just glad he’s back where he belongs,” Mulder responds.
After waving goodbye to William, he turns around, a content smile on his face. He starts in the direction of the coffee shop, as if the events of the last few minutes had never happened. Expecting Scully to follow, he walks right past her, but she stands frozen in place.
It’s insane. It’s impulsive. She’s going to do it anyway.
“Okay.”
He pauses and glances back at the statue that is Dana Scully. Amusement plays at his lips, though there’s more than a little confusion there too.
“Huh?”
“Okay.”
He laughs, backtracking a few steps so he is closer to her.
“You’re gonna have to say more words, Scully, I don’t know what you’re—”
“I want to adopt a baby.”
His eyes widen, and he looks to his right and left as if someone might overhear their personal conversation and go tell on them to their supervisors.
“You’re bringing this up now?” he asks, a little incredulously.
“Yeah.”
“And– and you’ve thought this through? You’re sure?”
No, not really. To be honest, she’d barely thought through this at all. There are so many reasons why they shouldn’t, why this is a terrible idea. They’re not ordinary people. They have enemies who could use this against them, careers that have proven to be life threatening on multiple occasions.
And yet…
“Mulder, seeing you with that boy…” she says, her eyes trailing off in the direction the mother and son had disappeared. “Yes, I’m sure. Only if the offer still stands, I won’t hold it against you if you’ve changed your—”
He stops her. “No! No, I’m in. Let’s do it. Let’s– We should talk about this.” He grabs her elbow and starts toward the coffee shop with her in tow, and the pace of his step forces her to walk faster to keep up. “Buy you a cup of coffee? Breakfast sandwich?” he asks, scrambling for something to say.
“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”
“Just the coffee then.”
The bell jingles as they enter. They sit down at a booth and Mulder leans in, his voice low and placating.
“Okay, no need to panic. We’re just talking about it, yeah? Breathe.”
She huffs out a laugh. “How are you so calm about this?”
He smirks. “I’ve been reading about this stuff for months. You only found my stash of brochures last week.”
“Months?” she breathes, voice laced with disbelief. Her head feels like it’s spinning. “It’s just a little… overwhelming, I suppose,” she says.
“I have that effect on people,” he jokes. “It’s not a rush. If we do this, it will take time, we just have to decide if it’s something we want to pursue. There’s an application process, and getting approved, not to mention finding the right placement...”
Scully feels out of her depth. He knows a lot more about this than she does. She almost wants to ask if he has a slide show prepared.
“I want to do it. I do,” she assures him, carefully choosing her words, “I just don’t know where to begin. It sounds like a crazy idea. Is it crazy?”
“Probably,” he says with a shrug and a grin. “Kind of just makes me want to do it more.”
She’d never admit it, but she feels the same way. Maybe Bill’s right. He has rubbed off on her.
“So… where do we start? What do we need to do?” she asks, needing more information before she starts spiraling.
“Why don’t we take it slow? Start with you and me and an actual adult conversation about our priorities, and then maybe this weekend I can stop by with some Chinese and we can look into next steps.”
She takes a deep breath, heart rate slowing back down to normal.
“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”
How do we do this? How do we have this conversation we should have had months ago?
Before they get a chance, a waitress stops by to take their orders, and Scully opts for decaf. As electrified and anxious as she feels right now, she really doesn’t need caffeine to make it even worse. She can feel her knee bouncing relentlessly under the table.
Once the waitress is gone, Mulder gets the ball rolling with the first order of business.
“I guess to start us off, I need to know how involved you want me to be. I can help you find an agency and be your personal reference on your application, or I could—” he pauses. Breathes. “Like I said, I’ll be as involved as you want. I just need to know what you’re thinking.”
She shakes her head. “Mulder, I couldn’t ask you to—”
“I should tell you that the agencies favor couples over single parents,” he adds before she can finish, “It might be more difficult to get approved on your own, but if that’s what you want, I’ll help you.”
She studies him, the nuance of every microexpression on his face. She knows what her heart is wishing for, but what about him? Would she be asking too much of him?
“What do you want?”
He ducks his head, staring at the chipped surface of the table before glancing up at her with an apologetic smile.
“I’m a selfish man.”
She looks at him, needing more of an answer before she dares to respond. If he doesn’t mean what she thinks he means, one wrong word could spell disaster. Upset the delicate balance that is their friendship. She has to hear it straight from his mouth, this is no time for assumptions.
He sits back in his booth, and she braces herself for what he’s about to say.
“I want to coach little league,” he confesses. “I want to drive an ugly minivan, the ugliest one you’ve ever seen. I want to help with math homework, to tell crazy stories at bedtime and go on camping trips together.”
He looks deep in her eyes, and she shudders, feeling like his words have penetrated her very soul.
“I want it all, Scully. I want a family.”
I want you.
She feels tears pool in her eyes, her throat closing with emotion.
“I want that too,” she chokes out, unable to form any more words.
He reaches out a hand across the table and takes hers. She holds on tight.
“Well, that’s one thing settled,” he says, blinking back the pinpricks of tears in his own eyes.
~~~
Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]
@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson
#msr#txf#x files#xf fanfic#mulder and scully#my fanfiction#fox mulder#dana scully#of our own making#ooom#msr adoption fic#adoption
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Could you do one where the whole band is in the studio and reader is so desperate that she rides axl in front of everyone. Preferably the original line up in the current era please I love you❤🌷
A/n: I may have gone a little crazy with this but that's ok because who doesn't love the whole pretty boy band <3
Warnings: Smut, gang bang, riding, fingering(f receiving), hand jobs, breeding kink, if you think I missed anything please let me know otherwise enjoy :3
Guns N’ Roses was finally back from tour and you couldn’t have been happier to get to be with Axl again. You called everyday while he was away, with the calls often ending in phone sex, but it wasn’t enough.
You knew from the get go with him that you wouldn’t be able to be with him as much as you might have liked to be, it was just part of being with someone in a band. Didn’t mean you didn’t miss him, in more ways than one.
You’d spent the first few days together, as per usual, but one morning you woke up to find him getting ready to leave.
“Hey, babe, where’re you going?” You asked as you walked into the bathroom where he was.
“Going to the studio today.” He answered through a mouthful of toothpaste. You glanced at his reflection in the mirror then back to him.
“Why? You guys just got back from tour.” He spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth.
“Yeah, where I had a lot of time to think of new songs.” He explained. He planted a kiss on your forehead before heading out of the bathroom and to the walk-in closet. “We’re going to a studio to work on the instrumentals of some of them for our next album.” You watched as he sorted through clothes.
“What about me?” You asked, looking up at him with a small pout.
“What about you?” He asked with a chuckle.
“You expect me to just sit here all day?”
“Don’t you do that a lot anyway?” You glared at him, arms crossed over your chest and he gave you a kiss instead of apologising. “It’s only a few hours and then I’ll be home again.” You scoffed. He started changing in front of you, you watched him shamelessly.
“I’m coming with you.” You stated and started picking out your own outfit.
“No you’re not.” He looked at you with a confused expression. “What would you even do?” You shrugged.
“Nothing.” You said as you found an outfit for yourself. “But I want to be with you, so I’m coming.” He stared at you for a moment before deciding that he’s not going to be able to change your mind.
“Fine, be ready in ten minutes or I’m leaving without you.
You finished getting ready, it took longer than ten minutes but you knew he wouldn’t leave without you, and of course he didn’t. He was still waiting in the kitchen on his phone, completely having lost sense of time.
Upon entering the studio you were met with familiar faces all around. Slash was looking down at his Les Paul, Izzy was watching him and strumming along a rhythm to it. Steven and Duff were talking about dogs. At least you assumed so since they were showing each other pictures of dogs.
They all greeted you and Axl when you came in. Axl guided you to the couch and sat next to you, throwing an arm around you and holding you close to his side.
They were all talking about one thing or another, the tour, home life, stuff like that before actually diving into what they came there for which was the next album.
You were bored out of your mind. No one cared when you went on your phone, you didn’t really have much reason to be there anyway other than them asking your opinion on some things, which lyric fit better, whether or not they should add more solos. You enjoyed helping when you could but you were so fucking bored you were losing your mind.
You started reading about Axl, finding smutty fics about him to pass the time. It did help, to a point. After a few minutes of reading all you wanted was to act it out.
You knew he had his phone in his pocket so you texted him, saying how needy you were. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and looked at it, glancing back at you before responding. He told you to go deal with it in the bathroom. You huffed and stayed seated on the couch.
As they kept talking you decided ‘fuck it’ and started pushing the joint in your thumb against your clit through your thin, summer shorts. It wasn’t much but it was some form of friction, friction you were craving.
You kept your eyes on your phone for the most part but when you heard Slash’s low chuckle you had to look up. His glasses covered his eyes so you couldn’t see exactly where he was looking but you could tell he was looking at you, watching you touch yourself. His hand covered his mouth but he was smiling, you could see it in his cheeks. That much was a motivator to keep going.
You spread your legs and reached your hand into your shorts, continuing to touch yourself but this time with a viewer. Slash kept watching, smiling, chuckling to himself.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Slash?” Axl finally asked. His tone wasn’t angry, even though you couldn’t see his face you could hear the way the corners of his mouth were pulled into a smile.
The guitarist shook his head and gestured to you. You quickly closed your legs and hid what you had been doing so when Axl turned to look at you there was nothing to see. Sure enough he asked Slash what you’d been doing.
“Go deal with your girlfriend.” He mumbled, aiming his gaze to the ground. Axl turned around again and took a closer look at you. Your cheeks were flushed, sweat was starting to collect at your hairline and your breathing was heavy.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He came over to you, getting your pants and panties off. You started squirming and reaching for your clothes, not expecting him to undress you in front of his band. “I told you to stay home but no you just had come along, now look at you.” He gestured to your now half-naked body. You still tried to cover yourself but he wouldn’t let you, holding your legs apart as his bandmates gathered around behind him to gawk at your glistening folds.
Axl slapped your thigh. “Get up.” You did as he asked, though still wanting to cover yourself. Axl got his half-hard dick out of his pants and sat down behind you before pulling you down on him, slipping into you with ease given how hot you made yourself prior.
He got your legs onto the couch so you were straddling him, backwards cowgirl style. He wanted you to do all the work, since this was what you wanted in the first place. He also wanted this position so that his friends could see everything, from your pretty little cunt to the faces you made when you came.
“Go on, give us a show.” Duff said, already palming himself through his jeans. Axl patted the space beside him for Duff to come sit. He did and pulled out his hard member for you to jerk. You let out a soft whine and reached for him, starting to bounce yourself on Axl’s cock while stroking Duff’s.
Steven came over as well, standing to the side of you so as to not abstract Slash and Izzy’s view of you. He dropped his own pants and waited expectantly for you to let him in on the fun. You glanced back to Axl. “Can’t keep him waiting.” He said with a grin. You looked back to Steven and started pumping his shaft as well.
You thought this was a lot but you knew it wasn’t the end of it either. Izzy and Slash were both standing farther back working themselves. It seemed that you watching them acted as confirmation and they came over.
They didn’t make you take them into your mouth like you thought they would, much to your delight. Instead, they started jerking themselves off in your face and all you could do was wait for them to cum on you.
Your body was getting tired, arms wanted to fall to your sides and your legs began to shake under you as you kept bouncing on Axl. Seeing this the ginger started fucking up into you, making it a little easier.
Of course he knew your body better than anyone and knew exactly which spots to hit to make your eyes roll back. You had five men around you, all with their dicks out for you. It made everything feel better, especially when Duff reached over to rub your clit.
He has long, talented fingers that quickened everything you were feeling. “Fuck! ‘M-’m gonna cum, gonna cum!” You whined, hands clenching and unclenching around Duff and Steven’s cocks which seemed to get Steven over the edge, white liquid spurting onto your lap.
You looked down at it with stars in your eyes. It was then that you realised how badly you wanted all of them to cum on you. You kept jerking Steven off, his voice getting higher now. You could feel Axl twitching inside of you so you looked back at him.
“Please cum inside, want it so bad, please.” You whined. Axl had always wanted kids so you learned early on in your relationship that he had a breeding kink and asking him to cum inside your tight cunt was a sure fire way to make him cum.
Sure enough he grabbed your hips and held you down on him while his cum filled you up. That feeling alone almost made you cum but what really did it was Slash toying with your nipple.
You hadn’t been looking at him so his warm hand was already a surprise but the way he fondled you made your eyes roll back into your head. Your body shook and the couch under you, along with Axl’s lap, was now drenched.
You heard Duff groaning beside you and looked over just in time to catch his dick leaking, thick liquid coating your hand. His hand didn’t stop working on your clit, rubbing it, pinching and flicking. Seeing what made you moan the loudest and sweetest.
Izzy turned your head and thick ropes spurted onto your face. You stared up at him, lips parted as his seed slipped into your mouth. You were in such a trance for a moment you almost missed the feeling of Slash cumming on your chest.
More than once you’d caught him staring at your chest, really anyone’s chest. You smiled up at him and moved up and down Axl a few more times so he could watch your tits bounce while he came.
You were all breathing heavy, panting on one another as you came down from your highs.
“Get up.” Axl said with a heavy breath, patting your thigh. You got up and then started questioning what he wanted, your mind still in a haze. Sweat and jizz mixed together on your body and dripped down.
“Why..?” You asked out of breath and legs shaking beneath you.
“You wanted to get fucked so bad,” the ginger started, “why not give everyone a turn?” You stared up at him with wide eyes as you felt Slash’s big, warm hands wrap around your waist.
#guns n roses#guns n roses fanfic#guns n roses x reader#guns n roses smut#gnr fanfiction#gnr#izzy gnr#duff gnr#slash gnr#axl gnr#axl rose x reader#axl rose smut#axl rose fanfiction#axl rose#axl rose gnr#axl rose imagine
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frequently asked questions (FAQ)
i sent something in. where did my ask go?
hoo boy, big question with lots of possible answers… let's break it down.
- the most likely answer is that i haven't gotten to it yet.
- i could have deleted it for various reasons.
- you may have reached your ask limit unknowingly (5 anon asks per hour).
- i may have blocked you on anon due to spam, nsfw, or for using keywords that i take issue with.
how often do you open the ask box? how long does it stay open?
- that depends entirely on my availability. i felt that if i made it a scheduled thing, it would add unnecessary stress to my schedule.
is shane romanceable here? can i eventually 'date' or 'marry' him?
- shane is NOT romanceable on this blog. he will stay single. you can flirt with him as much as you’d like, even go on ‘dates’, and/or develop a strong platonic friendship with him— but there cannot be an established romantic relationship.
what are "events"?
- events are basically themed roleplay sessions. they will center around a specific "event" for a limited amount of time... more to come in the future!
can i roleplay with shane using my OCs?
- yes. however, keep extended roleplay in text-only format. if we’re going back and forth in an OC roleplay, please do not keep sending images of them!
can i send an ask even if it doesn't have a question?
- sure! this is also a roleplay blog. but please keep in mind the above point.
does this blog include crossovers with other media or my own oc universe?
- unfortunately, not extensively :( you can still use your OCs to roleplay, but know that asks are presumed to be in the canon stardew universe.
can i make fan art, fan edits, or other fan works for the blog?
- absolutely, please do! these make my day and i'd love to see them.
what should i do if i want to submit something to the ask box, but it's closed?
- it is preferred that you wait until it is open again to ask. if it's time-sensitive, or something you're particularly excited about— please direct message me.
will shane ever get better and heal here?
- it's very possible :]
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3000 posts!
Alright tumblr, call the team out for being on tumblr too much. It’s valid
#3000 posts#tumblr milestone#It ain’t a lie#We post at least thrice daily every single day#And often much more if we’re answering asks#But oof#At least we can say we provide that promised daily bear programming#Sticking to the bearotonin international company mission and promise:#Daily bear programming to make your life bearable
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b’elanna vs her mother at similar ages, plus some sketches!
#my art#star trek voyager#my very first deanna…. my original obsession. if i ever read as much about betazoids as i do klingons we’re all in grave danger#also wrt the first image b'elanna is. 12 years old and as such is about to go emo mode but not quite yet. the girly girl thing is a front#sometime in winter she'll chop her hair off without permission#what do we think? human girl look to fit into the image her father has while he's still around or after to try and get him back?#miral is also a little bookish like b'elanna but on different subjects.... likes to keep to herself naturally but is also loudmouthed and#got told she shared her opinion too often a lot in university. didn't stop her though she speaks up when she thinks (knows) she's right#what did she study? don't ask me my answer changes with the weather#botany....linguistics.....military strategy.....chemistry....... uhmmmm religious studies. or even better the klingon system doesn't have#starfleet equivalents and she spent ages 15-22 doing apprenticeships for a certain (or multiple) disciplines#anyway.#kessik 2352 b'elanna has trouble sitting still for photos until she gets a little older so all the pics from before 7 are of her father#physically holding her so that she won't wander OR off guard shots or super blurry. theres more videos of that time than anything
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My psych says I don’t like my mom or my ex because they make me vulnerable but I think it’s because they are/were both serial boundary violators. Well serial boundary violators sounds serious but I mean they are just good kind people who would not leave me alone when i ask(ed)
#i mean so am i so i dont exactly blame them but like. my mom doesnt knock used to hold me down and epilate my body doesnt take no for an#answer ever on anything unless youre MEAN to her and i dont mean anything serious i mean she asked me to go to the store with her to pick#out paint for her walls i said no she asked again i said no she asked again i said no so she went on her own and facetimed me so id help her#pick. my ex had a similar thing where if i was like hey lets not talk tomorrow im burnt out hed be like okay and then the next day early#morning he’d send a good morning text and then several more throughout the day and then we’d call at the end of the night#people do who not let you fucking breathe. i hate it. if i saw my mom less often id probably like her but her so much as sitting next to me#on the couch will have me tense and pissed. she also takes glee in hating things i like and its not a conscious or serious thing but its#really weird. ive done the same for her since i was little i dont know who did it first. like ok we’re moving our new place had wallpaper in#my room i wanted to keep it she wanted to remove it she agreed to keep it and then made plans to remove it bc she was going to get rid of it#at some point later on anyway for the house’s value or something. they removed it recently and she showed me a vid of the place and when she#gets to my room shes like hehehe its goneee like girl what the fuck is going on with you. she wouldnt let me change the decoration of my#room as a child it had to be the way she liked it. even my body had to be the way she liked it dude the epilation thing shed laugh as i#cried (in a shirt and underwear man) bc i was finally hairless. my ex was nowhere near that bad but again ZERO breathing room and whenever#id try to take some hed be like ‘’i just worry that if you take this space you’ll come back and break up with me’’ uh. yeah with that#attitude the breakup’s coming either way. he’s a good guy though just 24 and a man (both sad afflictions) he’ll shape up. or not. idk im no#t invested#he did listen to a lot of what i said just not the basic things of ‘’leave me the fuck alone sometimes’m#im annoyed that my therapist framed this as a me issue but shes right when it comes to me having trouble w vulnerability and i should just#clarify my pov here so she can change her assessment#my ex leaves me alone now. he does a great job at it i thiiink hes moved on which im happy about#i dont know if id ever want to be friends again though idk if either of us can do that#i cant. rn#i understand why he wanted so much from me though. i get it
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guess who gets to have chipotle today
#it’s me!!!! the last time i had it was my birthday in april#and i keep asking if we could have it and the answer is always no and then. a couple weeks ago when i was at work#my dad and sister had chipotle without me. and that made me real sad#but today i get to have chipotle!!!! im so excited#chipotle and red robin are my two favorite restaurants not counting [redacted pizza restaurant] where i work#and i have a secret kids menu hack that gets me super cheap food at red robin but it’s expensive for the rest of my family#so we don’t go there often. chipotle on the other hand is still a special treat but it’s a more equal special treat#where everyone can feel like they’re getting their moneys worth and im always in the mood for it#and so im really glad we’re doing it today. i love chipotle so much#we’re just gonna go order takeout and then eat it at home but that’s better than sitting in the restaurant with lights and loud people#so this is the most ideal meal possible. my dad went a couple weeks not really feeding us anything but this is the second day this week#that we’re getting food as a family. i guess he’s doing that cause my mom and little sister are almost home so he’s making the most of the#last week. other things he’s taking advantage of being able to do: smoke weed cause he thinks i don’t know the smell so i won’t know#i do know i just don’t want to be confrontational about it. we’ve almost made it through this entire time with no fights and im really proud#so im not gonna mess it up calling him out on something like that. for vague context i live in a state where it is a crime. but i don’t#really care from that standpoint it’s just. idk i just wish that when he’s supposed to be a responsible adult he would keep his wits up#like. my mom told me once that when i was growing up she would smoke weed before she hung out with me and my sister so that she would be#in the right headspace. she would smoke weed so that she’d be more childish and fun to play with#which i guess i appreciate the goddamned effort but it didn’t work because as long as you still have power over somebody#any superficial idea of equality isn’t going to do anything. three year old me did not cry less when my mom got mad at me if she had been#high when she was taking care of me earlier. that is not how that works. so anyway i guess it’s a sore spot#he’s only smoked once the past couple weeks and now he is again today i could smell it when i went to the basement to do my laundry#and it’s just not a great vibe. hang on i heard the dryer song from far away im gonna go move my laundry#anyway this is actually a happy post because i get chipotle so um. sorry for all the weed talk i got distracted#drug cw#ok i’ll see you guys later i have to move my laundry and then im getting dinner!!!! very excited#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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🍰 for Sanji prebby please <3
YES THIS IS LITERALLY SO PERFECT FOR HIM!!!
Original ask game here
Baking with Sanji
Sanji didn’t let anyone into his kitchen, it was like a shrine to him in it’s importance. To touch even a bowl meant certain death, if the giant mousetraps around the pantry weren’t a threat enough. Sure, people could come and visit if they stayed good and quiet and didn’t touch anything, but for a group of pirates, that tended to be pretty boring.
That’s what made this sight so peculiar to those unfamiliar with the duo in question, to those who didn’t know of the past they shared.
“Icing is almost done mixing, how’s the rest of it?” The chef questioned calmly, his skilled fingertips setting the whisk down as he flitted his gaze over to his side.
“Just about finished cooling I think,” Responded another man, poised in front of the refrigerator with a clawed hand carefully feeling at the bottom of a pan with a moist, undecorated chocolate cake set atop it. Jet black pointed ears flicked curiously in the direction of the chef’s voice before he continued. “Hows the timer looking for the cookies?”
“Probably five minutes left on it.” Sanji responded, glancing breifly over before returning his gaze to his companion and flicking the stove on with a gentle click as he rested a pan atop it. “Can you get the chocolate melted?”
“Obviously.” Snarked the other, ocean blue eyes rolling as he took the cake out and set it on the countertop before tucking a strand of ebony hair behind his soft, pointed right ear which flicked in surprise, jingling together the three golden earrings that dangled from it. “Only question is if you still have the skills to flambè.”
“Oh how dare you.” Chuckled the chef as he made room at the stove for the man as he set a pot of water on the burner. “You know I’m a better cook than you are.”
“Ah yes, a better cook, but this is baking, not cooking.”
Sanji let out a soft snort at the comment, his wrist beginning to move in a well practiced motion, sliding the oil around the pan until it was completely coated in that familiar glossy shimmer.
“So you say, but I’m pretty sure the act of flambè is cooking, Zayne.”
“Mhm, a likely excuse.” Accused the shorter man, a swishing tail calmly swaying behind him, swatting at Sanji’s leg gently as they bantered. “But you know if you aren’t careful, the soufflé might deflate.”
“Oh shush, thats an old wives tale and you know it.” Sanji smiled, adding the diced bannanas to the pan.
Sanji didn’t let anyone into his kitchen. Except for a very particular fox.
#one piece#selfship#sanji x zayne#sorry this was mostly dialogue#i dont bake often#but the context is we’re making dessert for the straw hats#80% will be eaten by luffy so if we dont make a ton we wont have anything#luffy eats as much as 20 men if not more#we just sass each other the whole time#thank you for the ask!#ask game answers
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 4; ghoap x reader)
part 1, part 2, part 3
tags: dubcon/noncon, nsfw
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Much of Ghost’s behaviour is reactive. Oddly passive for the assumptions people often make of him. He doesn’t run from trouble, but certainly he doesn’t seek it out. Aside from a few rare deviations from the norm (running his father out of the city at eighteen, not breaking enough bones to count as restitution, and finally leaving home to enlist), that remains the rule.
The way Johnny mopes for days after parading his bird around base has Ghost nearly rolling his eyes, already exasperated. He should’ve known his puppy wouldn’t share well.
It’s worse than he expected though. Johnny mopes for a week straight after the fact, hardly able to meet Ghost’s eyes in briefings. He stares straight down at the floor pathetically, dragging his feet behind him when he’s dismissed. Price notices it right away, raising an eyebrow at Ghost after Johnny leaves the room.
“Trouble in paradise?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach.
“In the dog house, I reckon. His girl’s pissed at him.”
“Your doing?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Ghost replies smoothly, face giving away nothing.
Price is hardly convinced. “I’m sure. Nothing to do with you.”
Ghost doesn’t answer that. He waits until he’s dismissed and then takes off down the same hall Johnny just left, curious about wherever his boy’s slunk off to.
He can’t help the latent sadistic streak in him that curls up in pleasure at the sight of Johnny pouting and squirming whenever he walks into the room. Still, his attitude will need to be rectified soon enough—there’s only so much Ghost will tolerate, only so much disrespect he’ll turn a blind eye to. One day Johnny will look back and reflect on this, and appreciate the extent of Ghost’s magnanimity.
Still, he doesn’t enjoy being ignored. One week bleeds into the beating heart of the next and Ghost realizes that he’s had enough of the silent treatment. He’s given Johnny more than enough time to come to terms with their new situation.
He tracks him down to the armoury on a Monday evening after most of the other soldiers have already left for the day, back home or eating supper in the mess hall. It’s empty apart from the two of them, and when Johnny finally notices his presence in the room, his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t flinch at least. Good boy. He’s gotten better at being less reactive, less shaky about being caught off guard.
“Done for the day, sergeant?” He keeps it light to start, taking a step closer.
Johnny tenses at the approach. “Yes, sir.” The title would usually satisfy on its own, but it comes strained, polite but removed.
“Where’d you come from?”
“Layouts and gunners training, sir.”
On any other day, Johnny’s deference might come as a lovely note to end the day on, but not today. It rankles now, the edge of his voice sweetened by a kind of silent dismissal, not giving any more information than what’s required of him. Nothing like the boy who used to open his mouth and sing the world back to him. Ghost has earned his every thought.
“We have a problem, Soap?”
“No, sir,” Johnny grumbles, still not meeting his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he says the words, teeth all but grit.
No dealing with this temper tantrum like adults then. For all Johnny must carp and bitch to himself about the hardships that Ghost has put him through, he seems to have no desire to actually deal with the problem. That’s too bad. It would’ve been easy enough to talk it out like grown men.
They’ll have to come to terms some other way.
“Come. We’re fixing this attitude of yours now,” Ghost grunts, turning before Johnny has the opportunity to complain and marching down the hall towards the gym.
He hears Johnny make a sound like an angry bull before following him down the hall. The loud footfalls against the tile floor betray his simmering anger; it reveals to Ghost what he already knew intuitively. His boy still needs to learn to play well with others.
In time, this anger will fade into the ether, replaced by Johnny’s old doggish need to please Ghost, but it’s causing too many problems now to be tolerated. He hasn’t gotten to see the bird since the week before. Doesn’t even have a photo of his own to look at when he rubs one out. It would be less aggravating if Johnny were willing to spread his legs and let Ghost rut between his thighs, but they aren’t there yet.
The gym is empty as it usually is around early evening when Ghost opens the door, the lights off from whoever last used it. Johnny follows him sullenly, dragging his feet about it. Ghost’s eye ticks at the show of attitude persisting into this space.
“Lock it behind you,” Ghost says without looking back at him, crossing to where the mats are on the other side of the gym.
Neither of them are dressed to spar, still clad in their fatigues, but his blood cranks up to boiling when he turns around to watch as Johnny crosses the room angrily, picking up steam now as well. He comes in hot, not even bothering to suss out Ghost’s first move before launching himself at him.
Ghost staggers back a step at the hit, but he takes it in stride, shifting his weight and using Johnny’s momentum to throw him off, sending him sprawling. He’s quick to get back to his feet, but that moment of carelessness gives Ghost everything he needs. The next time Johnny throws himself at him, Ghost lets him get an arm around his leg and nearly grins to himself when he feels Johnny put all his weight into trying to flip him.
He knows strength isn’t everything, but there’s something to be said about the several inches and even more kilos he has on Johnny. That plus a decade’s worth of experience. Sparring devolves into a sweat-slicked grapple, Johnny’s shirt coming untucked and rucked up, his hair mussed. He tries to go for the mask, eyes gleaming with a wet, savage glint—forgetting decorum or tact, and just going for the most underhanded maneuver.
He pays for it when Ghost takes him hard to the floor, catching him with a leg sweep that he might’ve been able to avoid if he were fighting with a clear mind. Anger makes him sloppy though.
“Fuckin’ bastard—” Johnny grunts when he hits the floor, narrowly avoiding clipping his chin against the mat.
“Folks never married, so guess you’re right,” Ghost remarks, unbothered. Hardly winded even, only the lightest sheen of sweat on his brow, obscured by the mask.
His sudden divulgence makes Johnny falter. So rarely does Ghost open even a crack that the momentary honesty catches him off guard, giving Ghost the opportunity to wrangle him into a tight hold.
Pinning Johnny isn’t an easy task because the kid fights dirty when he feels cornered. Lashes out wildly with his fists when Ghost gets an arm around his neck and holds him in place, less precise than when he’s coolheaded, but still brutal, all raw strength packed behind his punches. He twists Johnny over onto his stomach when the boy tries to buck him off, slamming him down hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
“Gonna tell me what’s got you all riled up now?” Ghost asks, twisting Johnny’s arms behind his back to pin him in place.
He struggles in Ghost’s hold, trying to find a weak point. The search is fruitless. Ghost’s body weighs him down like a boulder pinning him flush to a dirt-streaked mountainside, forcing the air out of his lungs when he presses down harder.
“Ye cannae just take her from me—” he spits out, face flushed. He kicks out a foot, trying to free himself, but all Ghost does is shift slightly to press his shin to Johnny’s calf, holding it down. “I told ye she was different and ye had to—and now she willnae even fuckin’ talk to me. Barely texts me, willnae answer my calls. I cannae—I can’…”
His voice trails off on a hitch. Not quite a sob, but a frustrated, wretched sound.
“Held that in for a while, didn’t ya?” Ghost murmurs, holding Johnny down with ease when he struggles again, trying to wrench his arms out of Ghost’s hold.
“I almost fuckin’—almost just fuckin’ gave her to ye,” Johnny says, shame thick in his voice. “Thought maybe it wouldnae be worth…jus’ dinnae want a girl coming between us. But she’s—I told ye, Lt, she’s special, I cannae jus’—I cannae jus’ let her go. And now she doesnae want anythin’ to do with me.”
Ghost doesn’t bother pointing out the absurdity of that statement. As if Johnny could give him something that’s already his.
“Not trying to steal your bird, Johnny.” He taps Johnny’s cheek, a little reprimand. It makes him blink and scrunch up his nose. “What’d be the point of that?”
He forgets how young Johnny is sometimes, just now nearing the end of his twenties. Still wet behind the ears, all blood flushed and pink cheeked. Green still to the realities of the world and Ghost’s presence in his life (permanent, fixed; unchanging).
There isn’t a version of him that wants someone who doesn’t also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they’ve been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Johnny wants—at times, Ghost almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny’s thoughts into his.
Johnny twists his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Ghost. “The fuck are ye on about? Ye grabbed her ass in front of God ‘n everyone, for Christ’s sake. Said your intentions loud ‘n clear.”
“‘Course I did. She’s got a nice arse, doesn’t she?”
“You’re really startin’ to fuck with my head, Ghost, I dinnae understand what ye—”
“You keep running your mouth off about trying to take the girl from you—I don’t need to take anything.” He stresses the word to be clear, forcing Johnny back down when he tries to buck Ghost off again. This time he stays in place, both calves pinned down to the mat, cheek pressed into the fabric when Ghost slots a hand into the scruff of his mohawk, forcing his head down. “Quit struggling—you’re not getting back up. We’re sorting this shit out now so you quit moping around base and giving me a fuckin’ headache.”
“Stop exaggerating—I havenae even opened my mouth around ye in days. I’m no’ doing anything to your head—”
“How the fuck am I supposed to think when you keep running away?”
The air hangs heavy in the wake of his words, the oxygen all but sucked out of the room.
“The two of you are mine,” Ghost says in a low, harsh voice, the sound making Johnny flinch against the mat. “I’m not asking for just one of you. You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d leave you out of this, mutt.”
He’d sooner lose them both, but that’s another scenario that he’d never tolerate.
With some effort, Ghost tips Johnny over onto his back, holding him down before he can start to struggle again. He keeps his wrists trapped behind his back, forcing Johnny to arch his back off the floor, presenting himself. From his vantage point, it’s easy for Ghost to flick his gaze down and find Johnny’s dick pressed hard against the zipper of his pants, all plumped up from being pinned to the ground.
“Good, you’re already hard,” Ghost grunts approvingly, rolling his hips down to alleviate some of the pressure building up in his groin. “Haven’t come since she left the other week, I bet.”
Panic flares red hot in Johnny’s eyes, widening when Ghost settles deeper between his legs, his own hard cock unmistakable. “Wait—wait, Ghost—I’m no’—I’m no’—”
It would be a stretch to say that anything softens in him, but a part of Ghost does feel for the boy. He’s been around Johnny long enough to know his persuasion—strictly women with the occasional appreciative glances towards some men. An appreciation he relegates to furtive, guilty glances, holding it inside of him like a nasty secret that he’ll never part with. Too riddled with Catholic guilt and the ease of just playing it straight.
Ghost has no intention of making it easy on him though.
He tries to imagine what it might be like if he were on the other end, but for him it’s only ever been cunts and Johnny and the bird. Now just the latter two hold any weight.
His protests only last as long as it takes Ghost to unfasten their belts and zippers, fishing Johnny’s cock out first. The second his rough hand wraps around Johnny’s length, the words die on the boy’s lips, replaced by a choked off grunt. His balls are full enough to corroborate Ghost’s words—he probably hasn’t come since seeing his girl off the other day, too frustrated and upset to jack off, the ducts shut, working himself up into a frothy mess only for it to slip right out of his hands at the last second.
Johnny’s eyes roll back when Ghost grips both their cocks in his fist, slicking his hand up with Johnny’s precome. Sweat sluices down the sides of his neck. He looks good with his tongue tied up in knots, thoughts emptying out through his ears in rivulets.
Even with Ghost’s hand as big as it is, he can’t wrap it all the way around the two of them. Johnny’s come provides a nice glide though, lubricating the underside of his shaft when Ghost grinds up into his fist.
It spurs him into a kind of protolithic fervour, desperate only to come. The iron rich scent of blood and sweat makes Ghost salivate, eyes drawn to the tender skin of his neck, the flush now riding high, up and over his cheekbones. Lips bitten red, also swollen with blood. In a better mood, Ghost might indulge him, might roll up his mask and lick into the wet mouth hanging open deliciously, teasing him, but there’ll be time for that later.
He slurs out Ghost’s name when he comes, Simon ripped from his lips like it was dug clean out of his soul. His come splatters across his belly and shirt in thin, watery spurts, the wind knocked out of him again.
Johnny squirms when Ghost doesn’t let go of their cocks, hand still dragging up and down, mumbling that he’s too sensitive, fuck, lemme go, I cannae—
“I’ll stroke your cock and grab the bird’s ass whenever I feel like it,” Ghost growls down at him, at the end of his patience now. He pants out a ragged breath when his cock throbs at a particularly whorish moan dropping broken from Johnny’s mouth. “I’ll nut in her cunt and make you lick it out if I want. And you’ll fuckin’ thank me for giving you a taste.”
Johnny almost goes nonverbal at that, a leg trying to kick out weakly even though it’s still pinned down under Ghost’s heavy thigh. His dick twitches against Ghost’s, a valiant effort.
When Ghost comes, it settles in a thick, viscous mess across Johnny’s stomach, pooling around his belly button. It radiates hot down his back, the ache in his lower spine abating momentarily. Can only imagine how much better it would feel balls deep in Johnny’s ass or the bird’s pussy, a wet warmth clutching him tight, legs wrapped around his waist to drag him closer.
He’ll have that soon enough.
A ragged wheeze is pulled from Johnny’s chest when Ghost drags his cock through it, spreading it over his stomach. It’s worse when Ghost dips his fingers into the mess, a sticky blend of both their come, before bringing his fingers up to Johnny’s mouth, forcing them past his lips and over his teeth and gums. Johnny sputters at the taste, going cross-eyed to look down at Ghost’s hand.
There’s no time for pillowtalk or soft words though. Even if there were, niceties come out of Ghost’s mouth like a ring of smoke. Still, the thought of the bird not returning Johnny’s calls or texts makes him bristle, his annoyance renewed. His own disinclination to communicate aside—a waste of words as far as Ghost’s concerned, he says more with his actions anyway—none of this works if the girl won’t talk it out.
Probably pent up, the stubborn thing. He’ll have to sort that out too. It keeps him young at least.
“C’mon, Johnny,” Ghost says, rising to his feet. He dusts his hands off on his fatigues as if nothing happened, then holds out a hand for Johnny to grab. “Let’s go see our bird.”
#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#ghost/reader#soap/reader#ghoap x reader#ghost/soap/reader
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Jason has cuteness aggression.
Anything that you do is cute as fuck to him and all he wants to do is squeeze the fuck out of you in his strong arms, but has to restrain himself from doing so because he doesn’t want to genuinely hurt you.
He’s just so full of love that he doesn’t know what to do with it other then spend all his time with you doing your own thing, even though everything within him is screaming at him to reach out and squish your cheeks together, all the while smothering your face in a abundance of kisses for doing absolutely nothing because that’s how badly in love he is.
Jason just didn’t want to scare you off in how he loves because it could be quite suffocating or too much, but as long as you communicate to him that his love wasn’t suffocating or too much then expect it to quickly be apart of your daily routine, then again it’s not like you’re complaining because an affectionate Jason is an adorable Jason.
So you’d happily just sit there and allow him to hold your face between his hands and kiss you senselessly for just simply existing.
‘Why. Are. You. So. Fucking. Cute.’ Jason would say between planting kisses on your lips, forehead and nose.
‘I’m not even doing anything other than sit here.’ You chuckled, smiling widely at feeling of his lips against your skin.
‘Not a valid enough response.’ Jason replies as he continues his barrage of affection.
‘But it’s true!’ You exclaimed as Jason enough you into his arms and squeezed you tightly as though you were a plush toy. You cuddled into him and rested your head on his chest, finding this side of Jason to be sweet and beautiful as himself. ‘Then why are you the most precious person in my life Hmmm?’ Jason asked rhetorically, burying his face into your head, tightening his grip on you. ‘Then why is it that I would do anything you’d ask without a second thought?’
‘Because we’re together?’ You said, faking ignorance as you wanted nothing more to hear him say it.
‘It’s because I love you chipmunk.’ Jason murmured as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, knowing that even if he did manage to show you all the love he had within him, he’d only find even more love underneath all that to give to you.
[PLATONIC ONLY] Damian Wayne claims that he hates being your friend.
But if that was the case then why is it that he goes out of his way to make sure that you were comfortable and treated with respect when he brings you over to the Wayne Manor; Something he’s never gone out of his way to do for anyone besides maybe Jon Kent, but that’s neither here nor there.
Then why was it that when he first introduce you to Titus as a sign of trust, the Great Dane didn’t waste a second in wanting to get to know you with how often he would impatiently nudge you with his head, whine and howl until you gave him head rubs and or cuddles. Damian on the other hand acted as though he was embarrassed by this, but was secretly happy that you and his dog got along as it meant a lot for Damian if Titus instantaneously likes you, he trusts Titus judgment as he believes that dogs were great judges of characters.
Then why was it that when you showed genuine signs of struggle, he was the first person to notice and help you with whatever you were having troubles with as best he could. Damian knew that he would be considered the last person people who go to for help and for obvious reasons, but when it was you Damian wanted to be your first choice, your first option out of everyone; If you get stuck then you might as well get stuck together, even tough he’s intelligent in his own right, he’s not prone to not knowing the answer to something.
It happens to everyone and you have to remind him in those moments that he’s imperfect human, not a weapon. He needs reminding of that now and then in all honesty.
Damian won’t out right call you his friend but he will show it without even knowing he’s even doing it until someone -maybe one of his brothers, mainly Grayson- points it out to him.
‘Is your friend coming over today?’ Grayson would ask.
‘They’re not my friend.’ Damian answered bitterly.
‘Then why are you clearing a space for them.’ Grayson then points out and that’s when Damian stops to realise what he was doing, scowling as he crossed his arms. ‘Tt. That’s none of your concern Grayson I just like to keep my living spaces clean and easily maintained.’ Graysons smile grew as he leant against the doorframe. ‘Oh really? That’s the only reason you’re doing this?’
‘Yes.’ Damian replied, adamant with his answer.
Grayson shrugs and raises his hands in surrender. ‘Okay, if that’s what going on then I guess I’ll leave you be then.’
‘That would be much appreciated Grayson, I still have much to do before y/n’s arrival-‘ Damian once again stopped upon realising what he was insinuating and looked towards Grayson who looked like the cat who caught the canary. ‘Not a word to anyone.’ Damian threatens as he points a finger at his older brother.
‘I didn’t hear a thing.’ Grayson said but as he walked into the hallway only to scream, ‘DAMIAN IS CLEARING UP HIS ROOM FOR HIS FRIEND! JASON YOU OWE ME MONEY! I WON THE BET!’
In the distance Jason could be heard cursing Dick out for cheating somehow.
Damian gritted his teeth but he knew he can’t hunt Dick down for sport just yet, you were arriving in ten minutes and he still had some work to do until then.
Dick has an obsession with you resting your head on his shoulder or on his back, followed by your arms holding onto his waist for dear life.
He lives for it and gets embarrassingly excited whenever you do it to the point that it’s obvious that he was expecting something every time you came home. Dick just likes the idea that despite how exhausted you might be, you still go out of your way to drag your feet across the room and rest your head on his shoulder as you whispered a greeting into his skin.
He enjoys this so much that if you ever dare to forget to do so, he’ll pout and silently watch you as you moved about the apartment expectantly. If after five minutes you still don’t do the thing then Dick will show you his back and sigh dramatically until you’re forced to take notice.
‘What’s wrong pretty bird?’ You asked wearily.
‘Nothing.’ He replies.
‘Dick you’re huffing and sighing every five seconds, somethings wrong.’ You said, getting up to move towards him before resting your head on his back and throwing your arms over his waist. ‘So tell me what’s wrong so that we can talk about it and get through it together.’ You murmur and you felt Dick relax as he rested his hands over your own.
‘There’s no need to talk about anything because you’re already doing the thing that I’ve been waiting for you to do since you got in.’ Dick answered and you couldn’t help but laugh at this while tightening your hold on his waist. ‘This? Seriously?’ You asked.
‘Yep.’ Confirmed Dick as he moved himself so that he could properly hold you against him. ‘Just this and only this.’ He adds softly and you had no reason to argue with him over something that brought him comfort and reassurance.
‘Okay, I’ll remember to do this a lot more, just for you.’ You promised, kissing his shoulder.
‘I’ll hold you to that promise sweetie.’ Dick says as he rested his head atop of yours, closing his eyes as he basked in your closeness and allowed himself to breathe and be in the moment with you.
Because that’s all he wanted, to live in the moment with you.
#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#jason todd fanfic#jason todd x you#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#nightwing x you#nightwing x y/n#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#dick grayson fluff#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc x y/n#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc fanfic
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“i’m tireddd.”
*in a whiny voice* “i’m tired.” *mocking them*
this is sooo eddie coded
ty for feeding my grumpy eddie obsession anon — grump!eddie's boyfriend instincts take over when you're sleepy (ditzy!reader-ish, established relationship, fluff, 0.6k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
There’s something heavy in Eddie’s lap. Something heavy and warm and smelling like a fresh shower.
He fights open drooping eyelids, not knowing when he’d dozed off or how long he’d dozed off for — or exactly when you crawled haphazardly into his lap. He figures it couldn’t have been that long ago. ‘Cause his show is still on, and you’re still shifting to get comfortable over his legs.
“What are you doing?” he asks you, voice thick with sleep until he clears it away.
You’ve got yourself curled in a tight ball, trying to make yourself as tiny as possible so you can fit more of yourself in his lap. The effort is futile. Only half you thrown over half of him. It doesn’t look comfortable in the slightest, but you settle with a contented sigh like you are, anyway. Eddie smooths a warm hand over your back and lets you lie there, on top of him.
“Laying on you,” you answer, muffled against him.
“Okay… Why?”
“‘Cause I love you.”
“Boo,” he moans. “Too vague.”
You whine. “Today was just so long, and I’m sooo tireddd.”
“Aww, you’re tired?” Eddie coos in a mocking voice. “You poor baby.”
He uses his sarcasm to compensate for how sweet he is to you. He acts annoyed but grabs a blanket from the back of the couch to drape over you anyway. Even goes as far as to swaddle you in it when he resituates you in his lap, sitting you more wholly over his thighs.
Vulnerability has always been hard for him, only ever feasible when he pretends it’s insincere.
“Is this better?” he mumbles into your hair.
You hum, warm against his neck. “Mhmm.”
“Good. ‘Cause you’re blocking the TV.”
“Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this,” you tease and pull slightly back from him. The tip of your nose runs up his jaw to the apple of his cheek. “There’s a reason I call you Teddy, you know?”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’re soft. And fuzzy. And you love to cuddle.”
Eddie squints at you. “…You just made all that up.”
“You can like me, you know? We’re not in high school anymore, Teddy.”
“I always liked you,” he scoffs and holds you tighter against him, one arm around your back and the other beneath your knees. “Even before you knew I existed.”
“I always knew you existed!”
“Yeah? Since when?”
“Mr. Hauser’s Sex Ed class. Freshmen year. He was like, ‘That’s how the homo sapien male holds an erection—’” You recite it like it’s something you think about often. A reminiscent smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “—And the boy with the grown-out buzz cut behind me said, ‘Actually, Mr. Hauser, I think an erection is better held in the hand of the homo sapien female.’”
Eddie laughs at the long-gone memory and starts to sparkle with it.
“And I’ve been smitten over that boy ever since,” you tell him with a sickly-sweet smile.
He scrunches his nose in disgust, still not used to the affection you show him so effortlessly. “You had a crush on me in ninth grade?” he teases like he hasn’t loved you since eighth.
“Uh-huh,” you nod. “Still do.”
“That’s so gross,” he grumbles like a storm cloud right before hugging you that much closer.
He holds you with firm hands, suffocating in the best of ways, with every intention to melt with you. The bridge of his nose smushes into your neck. He inhales deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of your shampoo. His exhale fans warm against your skin.
“Too gross to kiss?” you wonder in a tiny voice.
“Yes,” he answers quickly as he pulls away. “But I like gross, so…”
You press a smacking kiss to his plush grin. Then another for good measure. You hug him closer and bury your face into his neck. “Mm. You taste like a TV dinner,” you mumble into his skin.
Eddie tries hard to hide his laughter. It bubbles from his throat like sunshine, anyway.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: bug turns one
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hi roro! love your works!! they’re so good like, I come back and read them over and over😭 can you do a fic where the reader is regularly in landos streams and the fans just adore them and it’s so cutie? thank you so much! if not just ignore this omg 😂
ꔫ baby we’re on camera
°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )
°. — summary ( lando loves teasing his girl on stream )
°. — details ( g; fluff. w; slightly suggestive at the end ig? wc; 2.6k )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg I’m soso sorry about how long this took for me to get out, I absolutely loved the idea I just don’t know why it took me so long to write! I also read the part where the reader is regularly in the streams wrong, but I do hope you enjoy it! And thank you so much for the kind words! 🫶🏻 also thank you to my lovely bestie @chrisevansonly for helping me come up with some of the ridiculous usernames! )
main masterlist f1 masterlist
“Where is y/n” Lando reads aloud as he leans back in his chair, the neon yellow username catching his attention in his moving chat. A smile immediately appeared on his face at the mention of his girlfriend of a few years, a few people in the chat noticing and commenting on it. When he first started streaming, he always used to get shy whenever his chat would mention you, sometimes choosing to not comment on the messages.
Only because he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by over sharing. He loved talking about you, he could talk about you for hours, but he would respect your desire for privacy. But over the years of your relationship the two of you became more open about your relationship, and you often found yourself appearing on his stream; and his chat absolutely loved all the cute moments that would happen when you do.
“She went out with some of her girlfriends” he nodded as he softly drummed a beat on the armrests of his chair with his fingers. His mind took him back to the morning where he kissed you goodbye and watched you walk out of the apartment; you looked so pretty all dolled up to go out with your friends. Lando suddenly missed you very much the more he thought about you.
“Actually, she should be home any minute now” he mumbled, loud enough for the microphone to pick it up. He leans forward and picks up his phone, hoping to see a text from you saying that you're on your way home, but instead he just sees his wallpaper of you posing dramatically with a golf club, no text in sight. His lips twitch up to a smile at the sight of his silly wallpaper, he loved your silly side.
“Actually, I have no idea when she's going to be home” Lando chuckles as he sets his phone back down. He hoped that you came back soon, he had noticed it started to rain and he always got worried about you driving in the rain. You were fully capable; he was just always worrying about you.
“Did she go out with the other wags?” Lando read out loud a chat message, he had noticed a few other messages asking the same thing. He didn't understand why a lot of his fans were so obsessed with seeing you with the other wags. He answered with a smile “No no she went out with some childhood friends that came to visit; she was really excited to see them.”
“Guys I'm not going to call her; I don't want to interrupt her fun” Lando shakes his head with a small chuckle. Sometimes it felt like his chat was clingier than he was with you, and that's nearly impossible because he's one clingy boyfriend. Lando focuses on one of his monitors to change the music, his eyes were on his monitor, so he didn't see the chat explode with messages about you and he didn't see you open the door and peek your head in.
You had gotten home about 10 minutes ago and usually the first thing you would do is greet your boyfriend, but this time you had to change out of your damp clothes. The rain had definitely surprised you and your friends. You quietly opened the door, your fluffy sock covered feet softly padded against the floor. Lando glanced at his chat and saw everyone saying, ‘hi y/n!’. Lando quickly turns his head, and a big smile appears on his face at the sight of you “Baby, you're back!”
“Yeah, I got back not too long ago, had to change first” you explained to your boyfriend as you stepped closer to him, looking down at your outfit consisting of, fluffy socks, gray sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. You tried not to glance at the camera too much, you were still a little nervous about being in front of the camera, so you kept the conversation going. You hand your boyfriend who was smiling at you, the brown bakery box filled with delicious pastries “I brought you something, i just knew i had to get you some when i tried them.”
“Thank you, baby, these look delicious” he gives you one more big smile before he takes a bite into one of the sugary donuts. He lets out a dramatic groan of satisfaction as he leans back in his chair, they were absolutely delicious. You roll your eyes and let out a small laugh, leaning slightly against his chair. You look away from the chat that was moving way too fast for you to read, and back down at lando who was absolutely devouring the pastry. “Just don’t eat all of them, i don't want jon to hate me.”
“Who cares if he does…because I love you” Lando smiles cheekily, tilting his head up to place a kiss on your cheek. You close your eyes and let out a surprised giggle, wiping off the excess sugar that got on your cheek from his lips. Lando gives you a wink when you open your eyes and goes back to reading his chat. His heart filled with warmth at all the messages saying how cute the two of you are, and how some said they wished they had a sweet girlfriend like you; those made him want to smirk, knowing that there was no one even close to being like you. You were perfect in his eyes.
landolotts you guys are so cute, y/n is so lucky…
ittybittypiastri where did she get that sweater? Link?
dannyricscowboyhat lando can pull??? How???
hornerishot omg moms back!
oconsunderatedbby can y/n/n stay? We've missed her! <3
quadrantstar we've missed you y/n!
“The chat wants you to stay, so do i” Lando looked up at you with a smile on his lips, his tone trailing off to a soft whisper. His eyes silently begging you to stay, he understands why you wouldn't, but he still was hopeful. You noticed the look in his eyes, and you couldn't say no to him, not with how he was looking up at you. “Okay, let me go get a chair.”
“You have one,” Lando smiles playfully, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down to sit on his lap. Your eyes widened for a second at his boldness and Lando worried for a moment that he was too bold when he felt you stiffen in his lap, but the both of you relaxed as you leaned back against him and laced your fingers with his, that now rested on your thigh.
You decided not to look at the chat, knowing that their messages would make you feel more flustered. You clear your throat and tilt your head to the side to get a better look at lando, who was already smiling at you “So what were you and chat up to?”
“We were just chatting and trying to decide what game to play next” Lando said with a cheeky smile as he looked away from you to read the chat, a giggle leaving his lips at some of the messages. Most of them were funny and sweet, of course there was the occasional weird one, but Lando chose to hold his tongue, not wanting to go off on weird chatters while you were there. You already weren't the most comfortable in front of the camera, he didn't want to make you feel more uncomfortable by calling out the weird freaks in his chat.
“You should play Fortnite” you suggest with a big smile, you have enjoyed watching your boyfriend stream the game. The two of you having even more fun when you played it together off stream. Lando playfully rolls his eyes and tilts his head to the side, dramatically shaking his head “You only want me to play that because you like teasing me about how bad i am.”
“That I do” you quickly agreed with a laugh. Lando gasped dramatically and his hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you back closer to his chest, as he continued with his dramatics, little did chat know he was already booting up the said game “Are you hearing this chat?”
The chat was moving fast, as many of the chatters commented on how cute the two of you were, and how natural the banter was. A lot of the viewers agreed that he should play Fortnite, saying that ‘mom’ always has good ideas. Lando had also wanted to play the game, but now he wanted to play it more because you suggested it. He spoke quietly, his tone sending shivers down your spine as his eyes were focused on the screen. “I’ll play just for you baby.”
The couple spent the next hour playing Fortnite, well lando was playing and you were still perched in his lap and giving him some tips, you had younger siblings so of course you knew how to play the game. After Lando got frustrated about losing for the third time in a row, he was quick to suggest you have a go at the ‘stupid game’.
So, you sat straight on his lap, your eyes focused on the game, determined to place further in the game then he did. Lando had both of his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched with a smile at how cute you looked with his headphones on your head and the cute look of focus you had on your face. He had to stop himself from leaning down and littering your neck in kisses, he could vividly imagine your reaction if he did. ‘Baby were on camera’ you would mutter shyly with that flustered smile on your lips, that he loved so much.
You weren't familiar with the new map that well, so you let lando pick a place for you to drop. When Lando started to tease you for your sneaking you were quick to defend your game play, sassily telling him that you're not playing for kills but playing to win. The chat loved the chemistry that the two of you had, Lando teasing you about how he's better and you with your witty responses.
“Lan'' you muttered in a warning tone when you feel him slip one of his hands under the front of your sweatshirt, his warm hand flattens on your stomach, you know his touch is anything but innocent. Lando has a toothy grin on his face, his fingers now tracing shapes on your skin as he spoke innocently “What? Is my touch distracting you?”
“You wish” you scoffed playfully, not wanting him and chat to know that his touch was in fact distracting you. Lando smiles triumphantly at your reaction, knowing that you were lying, and he was in fact distracting you but nonetheless he stops his movements. Lando rests his chin on your shoulder again and quietly watches you play. His eyes glancing at the chat ever so often, his heart filling with warmth at all the sweet chats about the two of you.
As the game goes on, Lando's quiet tone turns into a tone of excitement when he realizes that there are only three people left, including you. The chat spammed loll’s and laughing emojis as Lando excitedly tried to give you tips and you telling him to shut up because you couldn't hear yourself think. Lando pouts grumpily and leans back in his chair, now wanting your attention even more. You were too caught up in wanting to win the game to notice your pouting boyfriend.
And win is exactly what you did, you hid until the other two started fighting and that's when you jumped out of the bush you were hiding in and killed them both. As soon as the #1 victory royal showed up on the screen you turned your head to smile excitedly at lando. Lando laughs and places a sweet kiss on your cheek, his hands rubbing our side under your sweater “Good job baby” You giggled as you say thank you, also thanking the chat that was congratulating you for your win.
When you feel one of his fingers secretly dip into the band of your sweatpants, you take your hands off the keyboard and mouse and nonchalantly get up from his lap. Making your way over to the shelf that was by his desk and out of sight from the camera to ‘grab’ ChapStick. Lando’s frown from you getting up, turns into a smirk when he realizes why you did, having felt you clench your thighs together before you got up.
“All right, chat I'm gonna head off. Gotta go properly congratulate my girl for winning” Lando watched your figure as you got up from his lap and moved to the other side of his room out of the view of the camera with the bite of his lip, he glanced back at the camera with a smirk. His tone was suggestive, and a loud laugh leaves his lips when you turn around and throw the small plushie he had on one of his shelves that you had gotten him at his head. Lando catches the bear as you give him a look of shock and embarrassment “Lando! Chat he's joking, please ignore him”!
“Trust me, chat I'm not joking” Lando winks with a cheeky smile at the camera, very much enjoying how flustered you got and the way the chat started to go crazy. You groan in embarrassment and grab your phone off his desk “That's it, I'm leaving!” you wave your hand for the chat, not wanting to bend down to be in the frame of the camera, knowing that the chat would definitely be able to see how flustered you were “Bye chat!”
Lando watched you walk out of the room with a grin, you give him a playful glare before closing the door behind you. Lando had planned on streaming for longer, but he couldn't ignore that ache he felt in his heart when you left the room, he wanted to spend more time with you. He loved watching you become more comfortable in front of the camera, in front of his chat in the short amount of time you joined him. Lando picks up his head set that you had set down on the desk when you took them off, lando hums along to the song that was playing as he closes his tabs before leaning back in his chair and reading the chat “Alright chat, it's time for me to head off.”
Lando tried to keep up with his chat, the messages zooming by, most of them were about you. Talking about how they enjoyed your presence and begging Lando to convince you to come back on the stream soon. Lando smiles “I'll let her know chat” Lando hears the familiar sound of his phone going off with a notification. He was quick to pick up his phone, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips when he saw the notification.
y/n 💞: in bed…waiting for that proper congratulations ☺️
Lando quickly shuts off his phone as he feels a warm blush spread across his face and neck. He clears his throat and giggles nervously when the chat breaks out in a bunch of question marks with your name, obviously seeing how flustered he had become from seeing the notification. Lando nods and waves at the chat, eager to end and join you in your shared bed “See you guys soon.”
Lando ends the stream and quickly rushes to shut off his computer, he grabs his phone and quickly gets out of his chair and makes his way to the door. He stops in his tracks once he remembers something and rushes over to his desk to pick up the brown box of donuts. Lando opens the door, careful not to drop the delicious pastries and his phone, rushing down the hallway. Calling out for you.
“Baby wait for me!”
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I really missed writing for Lando, I have a lot of ideas and req’s for him that I want to write! I’ve just been kinda focused on my hockey AU! But I will try to find a better schedule so I could work on that and my f1 fics! I also have another idea for another lando streaming based fic, it’s going to be so cute! )
°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @ophcelia @cixrosie )
#﹕─┈ roro’s works#formula 1 imagine#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris#ln4#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#f1 x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader
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Say Yes to me
summary: You've been in love with Jeon Wonwoo since forever, and due to your family relations, you had hopes you'd marry him. Your only problem? he's getting engagement to someone else.
or
During his Engagement party, your childhood best friend and love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo, asks you to run away with him.
pairing: 1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader
word count: 10k (45~ minute read) – My longest ever!
warnings: unrequited crushes and overall foolishness, idiots in love, best friends to lovers to not lovers to lovers again, some angst?, Wonwoo is such a nerd, making out in dingy motels, unrealistic mileage for gasoline, seokmin being the sweetest
a/n: This will most certainly be my last fic of the year! So, Happy Holidays everyone! This year has been so troublesome, but I've grown so much and written a lot more, too! I'm so, so grateful for everyone I've met and everyone that's enjoyed my stuff! See you in 2024!
Had you been questioned, there would never be a concrete answer to the question of just how long you had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo.
You’d know him forever, and maybe you loved him all along.
Your families were business partners turned friends. And there had always been talk of marriage between the children. Of course, for convenience. The Jeon’s produced top-class racing and sports cars, while your family were in the chemical business, specialising in industry paints and finishes, it was only natural to unite the two families and profit.
Although your wealth was vast, it was nothing compared to the Jeon’s, despite always having the chance to frequent the same environments, you often found you were on different levels altogether.
Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son, and he carried himself as such — with all the poise and arrogance of the heir to a global conglomerate. He liked golfing and late night swims. Always took his coffee black with no sugar, and barely had anything for breakfast, preferring a hearty lunch instead.
His younger brother, Lee Seokmin, was the result of an affair with a secretary, though that did not mean he was loved any less, no. Seokmin lacked a single mean bone in his body, he had a pure heart and a contagious laugh.
They were by all means what people liked to call Irish Twins, born less than a year apart. And the nature of that fact only made their differences more apparent. Complete opposites they were, and that extended to how they treated you, too.
Every summer growing up, your family would travel to the country house and you and your sister would spend the better part of the months at the club. Oh, how you loved the country club with the fun summer activities the clear chlorinated water, having a meal under the pool umbrellas and getting funny tan lines.
But most of all, you enjoyed Jeon Wonwoo.
His family frequented the same club and every summer, you’d be practically glued to Wonwoo, even if he didn’t dare to pay you any attention.
You were only three years apart, yet he acted as if you were an immature brat. Seokmin had always been happy to play with you and your sister, though.
More often than not, Wonwoo would lounge by the pool with a book, never daring to go in. And you would cross your arms over tile by the sides and try your damnedest to strike a conversation with him. He would ignore your every word, or worse, poke fun at your latest obsession.
“Wonwoo, at what time where you born?” You ask, spitting out any chlorine filled water off your mouth.
He arches an eyebrow, looking up from his book.
“What?”
“What time were you born?” You repeat, unbothered by his acidic tone.
“Why would I know that?”
“Can’t you ask your mum?”
He rolls his eyes, “Why do you wanna know?”
“So I can see your birth chart,” You shrug, twirling a wet strand of hair around your finger.
“The fuck is a birth chart?”
“It’s like… It’s a way to see your personality… And I can check to see if we’re compatible.”
“That’s stupid…” He rolls his eyes, again, “You’re stupid.”
You scoff, “You won’t play along— You’re such a bore!” You yell out and dive back in the pool, leaving behind a cackling Wonwoo.
Those hapless summer days were spent lazing by the pool with your sister and Seokmin — without a care in the world, laughing about nothing. With the isolated water-balloon fight every now and then.
You’d grown up before you could realise it, never truly leaving behind your childish crush on Wonwoo. Even if by the age hierarchy, you had no chance of marrying him — Your sister were to marry Wonwoo and you possibly married Seokmin.
Though you held hope, it crumbled away with every passing minute.
But that year, your sister had the greatest early birthday present: She’d found the man she was to marry and best of all, your daddy could never say no to his girls.
With your sister marrying the love of her life, it meant that you would marry Wonwoo, right? It was only a matter of time and you would be sworn to each other before God, your friends, and family. And your first love would blossom.
On your 21st birthday, your father took you to work with him for the day, though you most lazed around and answered his calls. You only expected to have lunch for your birthday and a party on the weekend.
At noon, he drove to the Jeon’s factory to deliver the new paint samples.
The workers, most of whom had watched you, your sister and the Jeon kids grow up, greet you excitedly and some even wish you happy birthday. Your father goes straight to the floor to speak to the manager.
Unexpectedly, Mr. Jeon himself shows up.
Mr. Jeon was a handsome old man a captivating smile, he was incredibly passionate about his work and adored mechanics, but he loved his sons above all — And he had great expectations for his boys.
He greets you with a warm hug and wishes you a happy birthday before discussing business with your father. To which you busy yourself with staring at the pieces waiting for a coat of paint.
“Hey, baby, why don’t you come with us to the patio?” Your father calls and you oblige, skipping toward the two men.
The patio is where they stored their models waiting to be shipped out to agencies or sometimes, for the higher profile clients, directly to the customer. You look at the new line to be launched next winter: sleek and modern with leather seats and wooden accents on the interior. You could never criticise the Jeon’s for their taste, they knew their stuff.
“Come here, baby,” Your father waves his hands, “What do you think of this car?”
You study the convertible in a bright red with a cream leather interior; a classic.
“It’s gorgeous, daddy, when are they launching it?”
“It should be out next year, but what do you think of the colour?”
“I like it,” You nod enthusiastically.
“That’s great baby, why don’t you read up on this model?” He hands you a tiny card, common in the factory, that has the model and batch number, as well as the signature from the supervisor. But just underneath the model, you see the colour name: your name.
As you look at your father, completely astonished, he just lets out a warm laugh and opens his arms for a hug.
“You named a shade after me?!” You glue yourself to him, still in shock.
“Happy birthday, princess.”
“Thank you, daddy, you’re the best!”
“That’s your dad’s present, how about you open mine, now?” Mr. Jeon interjects, waving a tiny jewelry box in the air.
You fix your hair and take it from his hand, expecting maybe a ring, or earrings.
But you find brand new car keys.
Mouth agape, you look at him while your father can only laugh at your surprised expression.
“Why don’t you give it a spin?” Mr. Jeon encourages, rushing you toward the convertible.
And though your father is beside himself with worry for you driving during rush hour, he settles for sitting in the passenger’s seat and doing some good old backseat driving, even though you barely make it past 30.
You drive around the block and return to the factory before your father has an anxiety attack over your driving.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Jeon! When did you even do this?! I had no idea!”
“Wonwoo oversaw the whole thing, he’s the one you should thank,” He laughs it off, but your heart can only skip a beat at the mention of your beloved’s name. Especially thinking he was the one to take care of such a great gift.
Wonwoo loved mechanics as much as his dad, sometimes even more. He even went to a good college for it, coming back even smarter than before — and much sassier, too. He never stopped doing manual work in the factory, guaranteeing every car made was up to the Jeon standard.
And you were very biased toward his mechanic abilities, especially when he would furrow his brow, glasses perched on the very tip of his nose; he would wipe off sweat off his forehead with his grease covered arm.
You remember to this day the last time your father came to discuss swatches and you stopped by the shop. Watching Wonwoo work on an older model with a leaky oil tank.
He did everything himself, changed the tank perched under the car, soldering a brand new one. He also did a once over on anything else that could become a problem in the future, any filters needing change, checking wires and gears, making sure the oil was fresh. The problem came with the lights. He had such a hard time wiggling his thick arms through the machinery to reach the right spot, and you watched very intently how his triceps flexed, deep green veins bulging under his skin.
Wonwoo had gotten so frustrated he’d shed off the top part of his coveralls, sporting a white undershirt so tight you could basically tell the shape of his sweat-clad torso. Oh, how you’d hoped he never got that bulb in place.
“Come’ere,” Wonwoo calls out without further ado.
“Why?”
“Need your help,” He mumbles under a sigh.
You rise from the barrel you were sitting on and approach the open hood. “With what?”
“Getting this fuckin’ bulb in place,” He hands you the tiny light bulb.
“Where do I need to put it?”
“See— in between this part, need to shove you hand until you reach back here in the light, then you just screw it in.”
“What if I get stuck?”
“You won’t, you’re so petite,” He smirks.
You scoff, “Shut up.”
Leaning over the hood, you place your left hand on the chassis to steady yourself and shove your right hand in between gears and machinery, trying to find the spot he mentioned.
“I can’t find it,” You complain.
“Keep trying.”
“I am!”
“Here, deeper—“ He reaches for you, one hand on your waist and another on your arm, forcing you toward the place.
You’re way too focused on finding the damn spot for the light, that you barely notice the proximity at all.
“Can’t find it!”
“Right, right— My right.”
“It’s the same freakin’ right, you idiot,” You hiss.
He laughs, “Fine, our right,” you groan at his stupid joke, “It should be there, try to bring it closer to you.”
“Found it!” You squeal with a smile, screwing the bulb in its place.
“Atta girl,” Wonwoo smiles.
“There!” With a relieved sigh, you finally free your grease-clad hand from the machinery, slightly cringing at the black covering your fingernails — It’d be such a bother to clean it up.
When you finally lean back, you stumble onto Wonwoo’s firm chest. Lucky for you, he catches you, steady hold at your waist. You’re finally aware of his proximity, to which he only smiles.
Looking down at where his warm, tauntingly large hands meet your waist, you’re suddenly filled with nothing but rage. ‘
“You got grease all over my dress!” You whine, looking at the perfectly stamped print of his hand over your brand new summer dress.
He only laughs, “Looks better this way, trust me.”
“Ugh!” You groan, stomping toward the washing area where they kept clean rugs.
He closes the hood with a loud thump that echoes through the shop and slides into the driver’s seat. The car comes alive with a loud hum and ta-da! The headlight works.
You are a little proud of your work, yes. But it’s not like you’ll show it.
“Do you not anything clean in here?!” You complain, eyeing the pile of grease-covered rags thrown in a corner. That had to be a fire hazard.
“What?” Wonwoo shouts over the running engine.
You huff and stomp your way back to the car, throwing open the driver’s door. “I have a formal dinner to go to,” You state, leaning over the door.
“Okay, then go.”
Rolling your eyes, you hold back any possible insults, “Like this?” You gesture toward your otherwise perfectly fine dress.
He holds back a little mischievous smile, “I have some clean clothes in the office.”
Wide eyes, mouth hanging agape, you stare at him dumbfound, “I hope that’s a joke, Jeon Wonwoo.”
He laughs, genuinely. That sweet, deep, dorky laugh of his that reverberates through his chest and plunges straight into your heart.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
As much as he did tease you, Wonwoo never made short on his promises.
“Is he around?” You ask Mr. Jeon, trying your best to suppress any expectations.
“Oh, he had some business… But he wished you a happy birthday.”
Your smile falters before your catch it, forcing the corners of your lips into a beautiful, rehearsed smile. “Let him know I’m grateful. For the wishes and for the amazing present.”
It would soon be Wonwoo’s birthday and you had been preparing for what felt like ages. You got him a really nice set of electric work tools since he complained often about how the shop’s tools were always malfunctioning. But you did feel somewhat bad about only getting him a gift relating to work on what should be a day about him.
So you caved in and got him a gorgeous wrist watch with classy black leather straps; on the underside you had his name inscribed with a heart. — You actually hadn’t planned for the heart, but the jeweller got confused in between so many orders and it was too close to the date to have it re-done. You hoped you could play it off in a cool manner, maybe he would laugh at your story.
The party would be held the eve of his actual birthday, and you arrived at the venue with hours to spare. Your father and sister are by the entrance, speaking to Mr. Jeon, you greet them.
“Hi, Mr. Jeon! Where should I put the gifts?”
“Oh—“ Surprised, he looks at your father, “You’ve brought gifts—“ He seems… surprised? As if it were so weird to bring presents to a birthday party. “Uh— I’m not sure, let me check with my wife where you could place those.”
You father nervously sips on his champagne, avoiding your sister’s burning looks.
“You haven’t told her,” Your sister turns to your father, “Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Tell me what?” You ask.
“Honey… This isn’t Wonwoo’s birthday party…” Your father speaks very slowly, gauging for your reaction at his every word.
Eyebrows raised, you question, “What do you mean?”
“It’s an engagement party, he’s getting engaged to Suzy,” Your sister rips the band-aid off.
And you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs at once, an agonising knot pulls at your throat and your nose stings with the threat of tears. The shopping bags fall from your hands and you fight off the urge to bawl your eyes out.
Before you actually do cry your eyes out, you rush outside.
“Baby—“ Your father calls but you just storm off, not wanting to be near anyone.
Engaged? Engaged!
Engaged…
Wonwoo was getting fucking engaged.
With a bitch named Suzy who had the prettiest hair you’d ever seen and knew how to talk to investors and could speak a thousand languages. And worst of all, she was the kindest, sweetest girl ever. You couldn’t even hate her!
You weren’t even allowed that! As much as you weren’t allowed a simple heads up. How hard was it to tell you beforehand “Hey, the guy you’ve loved your entirely life is getting married to some girl and you just brought lemon pies to his engagement party, thought you’d want to know.”
Maybe you should’ve taken the pies with you, at least you’d have some comfort.
You know what, what the fuck. Why didn’t Wonwoo tell you anything?! It had been barely a couple of days since you saw each other, why couldn’t he tell you? Were you not even worthy of that?
Like having known each other your entire lives doesn’t make you worthy of such ”wonderful” news? How hard is it to tell someone in passing that you’re getting engaged! And now, you’re supposed to smile all night and pretend like your guts aren’t festering in rage and melancholy and your blood doesn’t run cold at the mere thought of Wonwoo walking down the aisle.
Giving it a second thought, maybe it wasn’t set in stone yet.
It’s the modern times and even back in your parents’ days, engagements were broken off all the time! He might not marry Suzy. You might have a chance.
Maybe you could ask— no, you could plead with your father to tell Mr. Jeon to think it all over. Wonwoo is still young, it’s not time to settle down just yet. He wanted to study abroad, he talked about the automobile industry in Europe with such amaze, and if that took a little longer, maybe Suzy would get tired of waiting?
Who were you fooling? You should’ve seen it coming.
Of course, he wouldn’t have married you, what were you thinking?!
He’s the Jeon’s precious firstborn and you’re… someone who can’t even tell apart the sizing in wrenches — To top it all off, Suzy was notably great with mechanics.
You really wish you had those pies with you, it would make your salty tears a little sweeter.
By the time you’re done sobbing in your car, you look a hot mess with runny make-up and swollen eyes. With a sigh, you pull out your purse and muster up any cosmetics that can save you for tonight.
You could cry all you wanted at home, but right now, you needed to look pretty and have your pictures taken.
By the time you return, the party is to start and guests are gathering at the front, your sister immediately rushes to your side.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, soft hands reaching for yours.
Forcing out a smile, “Of course! Who do you think I am?”
By the look on her face, you know she doesn’t trust your words not one bit, but will not pry at your emotions any further. At least not for tonight, you’re sure tomorrow she will grill you about this. But for now, you put on a bright smile and greet all the guests.
From the Jeon’s, Seokmin is the third to arrive, missing only by the birthday boy himself. But he immediately greets his parents and comes to greet your family.
“Hey!” You smile, putting aside your glass of champagne so you can hug him properly.
“How you doin’?” He asks, gorgeous smile on display.
“I’m— Well—“
“They’ve told you then—“
You press your lipstick coloured lips into a thin line, “Yeah,” You nod.
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” You shrug, “I’m happy, Suzy is… a—“ Nice words. Nice words. “—wonderful girl.”
Seokmin offers you a sweet smile. “Let’s hope she can handle his tantrums,” he nudges at your arm.
“Oh, please!” You laugh.
Wonwoo was known for sometimes having a bit of a short temper, not often, by any means and maybe that’s what made them so memorable. Like the one time he couldn’t finish a puzzle during game night, so he gathered all the pieces and set the ablaze in the backyard.
“Or—“ A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he so kindly grabs two glasses, offering you one. “Listen to this— He gets to the church, covered in grease from head to toe.”
You laugh at the thought. Gods, how many times has Wonwoo decided to work on an engine while wearing his most expensive outfit? His mother nearly had a fit every time he would show up dishevelled and smelling like motor oil pretending like nothing’s wrong.
“Please,” You sip at your drink, “I bet he’s gonna be all greased up tonight.”
Seokmin laughs wholeheartedly. He was the sort of guy to never hold back a fit of giggles no matter how inappropriate it may be, and it was certainly refreshing to know someone genuinely found your company enjoyable.
“For sure, I think her parents will freak out.”
You nod.
Tapping at your glass, you hesitate the following words, “Guess we’ll be the ones getting married for the family, then…”
You didn’t hate Seokmin, far from it. You loved him to bits— Not like Wonwoo, of course, you believed you would never love a man like you loved Wonwoo, ever again.
He was funny, and such a gentleman. Not to mention, handsome, too. If you weren’t hopelessly in love with his brother, he would’ve been the perfect husband of your dreams. But he did deserve better than a wife who could never give him what he deserves.
“Sorry about that,” Seokmin comforts you and that only makes your nose sting with the threat of more tears.
“Stooop!” You whine in a shaky voice and he’s overcome with worry.
“Hey— What’s wrong—?”
“Don’t be so sweet— I’m emotional tonight—“ You laugh at your emotional state, despite the teary-eyes.
“Are you a crybaby tonight?”
You nod, fanning your eyes in the hope of drying your tears before they can wash away your makeup.
Seokmin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and you lean against his chest, fighting the urge to cry.
It’s only when you’re certain you won’t bawl your eyes out, that you respond. “It’s not that I hate you, you know I love you, but… You deserve someone that will love you like a husband.”
He nods, “I know— But it might not be so bad, we’re friends! We’ll have sleepovers every day, and we’ll have Italian every night, we’ll watch those silly movies you like…” Seokmin lists off all the things you would do in your very platonic marriage and it doesn’t sound so bad.
He knew exactly how you felt, he loved you, of course he did, you were so precious in his eyes, but not like a lover.
You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Are you gonna let me choose your clothes?”
Seokmin sighs. You hated his questionable fashion since forever and in only very rare occasions did he accept your input, any other time and he assaulted your spirit with clashing patterns and silly shoes.
“Fine—!”
You smile brightly, properly comforted.
Before you can tease him any further, you spot Wonwoo entering the venue. Although he is immediately swarmed with congratulatory words, his shy nature makes it so his only response is always an awkward smile.
He immediately spots you among the crowd.
You breathe in. In that moment, despite knowing he was sworn to another, that did not stop your heart from fluttering at the sight of him, his broad shoulders and the crooked tie he clearly put on a rush.
“Congrats, bro!” Seokmin is the first one to greet him, not letting go of your shoulder but instead pulling Wonwoo into a semi-hug.
“Seokmin…” Wonwoo eyes his brother and then you, and then his brother again.
“Congrats, Nonu,” You smile, letting go of Seokmin’s comfort to reach for a hug.
Wonwoo smiles, letting you cling onto his neck, your citric perfume seeping into his clothes and body.
Oh, how his warmth could never compare to another. How you craved his affection like no other.
“Thanks— Uh, did you bring me anything?” He asks in a teasing tone.
“Ey— Nonu!” Seokmin scolds his brother.
“How did you know I brought you something?” You giggle, pulling away from the hug.
Wonwoo shrugs.
You reach for his crooked tie, straightening it to the best of your abilities. “I brought it earlier, but I think your mum took it to the back room,” You explain, focused on the tie.
He, however is focused on your concentrated face, parted red lips and furrowed brows. The proximity that lets him almost feel your chest pressed against his, as if extending the hug.
“However, you, mister, have to greet your guests!” You scold, setting his tie in place.
Seokmin joins in, once again throwing his arm around your shoulder. “That’s right, mum already gave me an earful about how late you were— And I got here on time!”
“Yeah— Yeah— You’re right,” Wonwoo nods.
“Liquid courage?” You offer your half-drunk glass of champagne and he downs it in one go.
You and Seokmin goof around a little more and gossip about certain guests behind their backs. Dinner is served and you all sit down to eat, Seokmin insists you sit beside him, which just so happens to also be next to Wonwoo. And you thank him for indulging you one last time.
Wonwoo is mostly quiet, but you were used to him not being rather fond of public parties, especially when all of the attention is on him. On his other side, sits Suzy, the blushing bride-to-be. She tries to make conversation with Wonwoo, though most of it falls flat, he only ever gives her monosyllabic answers and rarely contributes to discussions.
That is until Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand up, tapping forks to their glasses to call for everyone’s attention. The room quiets down instantly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little gathering tonight,” Mr Jeon greets the guests. “We have some wonderful news we would like to share with you all.”
“My beautiful son, how proud I am of you,” He adds, “Every day I am amazed at your intellect. Often, I question just where did you get those smarts!”
Everyone laughs.
“You have grown into a fine man, and I can’t take credit for any of it. You are the most mature, talented, and intelligent boy and you did it all by yourself— ”
You can watch how Wonwoo’s eyes gloss over with tears.
“I’m growing old, you know. And every father wants the guarantee that his children will be taken care of… That’s why I’m so relieved and happy to announce that my worries will soon be gone—“ He laughs but his son’s smile falters, “I’d like to announce the engagement of my son, Wonwoo, to this beautiful young lady named Suzanne. Welcome to the family, Suzy.”
He raises his glass and soon, the room fills with uproar. Everyone claps and you join in, smiling toward Mr. Jeon and Suzy. She stands up, thanking everyone and raising her own glass.
But Wonwoo doesn’t move.
“Nonu?” You whisper.
In his ears all that can be heard is muffled screams of joy and the incessant acute ringing. He closes his fists so tight that his blunt nails almost break through skin, he doesn’t look at you, but it’s so clear something is wrong.
You and Seokmin exchange glances.
Before you can call for him again, he stands up at once, the chair falling behind him with a loud bang that silences the room in an instant. In large and rushed strides, Wonwoo leaves for the patio.
You stand up and follow him.
“Wonwoo!” You call out, almost tripping over your party heels.
He stands in the yard, hand gripping at his gelled hair while the other fights with his tie, pulling at the suffocating fabric until it slides down.
The yard is decorated with a gorgeous fountain, sound of running water somewhat soothing in this moment.
“Nonu, what’s wrong?” You whisper, a hand reaching for his heaving shoulder.
“What wrong?!” He yells back, shoving your hand away, “Did you not fuckin’ hear ‘em?!”
You step back and his gaze somewhat softens, realising he just pushed you.
“You didn’t know…” You whisper to yourself, epiphany hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could Mr. Jeon do this?! Throw this on him without any previous warning?!
“You— You knew?” His voice is shaky, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.
“I found it out myself tonight when I got here— I— I thought you knew! I thought you agreed to it!” You argue.
“How— How can you think I would agree to marry someone—“ His words trail off in the night breeze, never to be finished.
“Then— What will you do?”
“I don’t know!”
You bite at your nails, finding a concrete surface to sit on and ponder.
“I must leave—“ He speaks out, “Run away with me—“
“What?!” you stand up.
“Let’s leave, drive somewhere— Wherever! I can’t stay a moment longer in this place.”
Oh, what a dilemma it was.
Abandon an engagement party with the groom-to-be, leaving behind furious parents and confused guests. And part of you knew that, despite your family’s closeness and no matter how much your father claimed you were all very close like family, driving off in the middle of the night with a committed man was a blow to any respectable, single, young ladies.
What a dilemma it could’ve been if you weren’t so enamoured with this man you would beck at any given call of his.
“I’ll get my bag and tell your parents you want to stay out here for a couple of minutes,” You announce and he nods.
As you walk back into the venue, all eyes are on you.
“He’s got the wedding jitters, everyone, not to worry. Wonwoo will return after he’s had a bit of fresh air,” You announce with a smile and all guests return to their previous activities.
But Mr. Jeon immediately corners you.
“What is he thinking?!” He half-yells, half-whispers.
“He’s just nervous, it’s a big bit of news…” You lie through your teeth, “I think a little heads up would’ve helped, you know he doesn’t do well with surprises.”
The man sighs, “He wouldn’t ever agree to it. I’ve offered him countless girls to marry and he never accepts any of them.“ Mr. Jeon looks at you and then sighs. “Do me a favour, convince him to come back, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” You nod and head off into the back rooms.
Unbeknown to you, Seokmin is on your trail and he waits until you are in the back lounge, gathering your bags and jacket to close the door and corner you.
“What the hell happened?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion, “You scared me!” You whisper.
“Sorry,” He whispers back.
“He didn’t know!”
“What?!” He says in a normal tone, soon realising just how loud that was.
“What I said, I think your dad set up a trap… He knows Wonwoo won’t go against his word.”
“Shit. What are we gonna do?”
“He wants to run away,” You announce.
Seokmin looks at you, and then at the purse hanging from your should and the jacket in your hands.
“And you’re coming with him?”
“I can’t leave him alone, not tonight.”
“And where are you going?”
“I don’t know,”
“And when are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are coming back, right?”
“I have no idea, Seokmin,” You realise, but the prospect doesn’t scare you as badly.
He scratches at his head. “Leave through the kitchen, I’ll hold off my dad. Make sure to give me a call once you guys are… I don’t know— Just give a call, will you?”
You nod, pulling him into a hug.
Doing as he instructed, you pass through the kitchen staff and rush through the backdoor, unseen by the guests. Wonwoo is sitting on a concrete bench, his head between his hands.
“Ready?” You call out.
Wonwoo looks up, nodding before he rises to his height. You offer him a comforting smile and reach for his hand.
Once you get hold of his hand, you bolt across the yard toward the parking lot. He almost stumbles over his lanky legs, but catches up rather fast. You throw your stuff on the backseat and enter your car, Wonwoo decides to jump over the door.
You laugh at his antics with a shake of your head.
Once your heels are discarded, you start the engine and drive off, leaving behind that dreaded engagement party. Wonwoo busies himself with shedding his formal wear, throwing his tie on the floor and removing his blazer.
In any other occasion, this could’ve been such a lovely late-night drive, just the two of you in your beloved car, night breeze caressing your faces with her ice-cold kisses, cruising through deserted roads, barely a soul in sight except for the night owls.
And you might allow yourself to enjoy this moment.
The silence isn’t a bother, no, Wonwoo was always a man of comfortable silences to you, but this once, you’re worried about goes on in that busy mind of his.
“You alright?” You ask, looking away from the road to steal a glance or two at him.
“Yeah,” He replies.
“Truly?”
“No,” He scoffs at his own lie. “But I’ll be.”
You nod.
You drive out of town and on the interstate roads for ages until Wonwoo finally speaks up. You’re completely engulfed in darkness except for your headlights.
“We should stop soon and have a rest.”
“Okay,” You nod, “Any preferences?”
“Anywhere.”
And so you tell him to keep his eyes peeled open when a sign on the road says there should be a motel in the next couple KM. It doesn’t take too long before you’re pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel, much of a far-cry from your expensive hotels and luxury living.
You check in at the front desk with an old man who seems very unhappy with his life, he short of throws the keys your way.
The room is… surprisingly nice, given the circumstances of the ambience. Only problem is the, although quite large, singular bed. You exchange glances.
“Shit,” Wonwoo curses, “I’m gonna
“You wanna get hit?” You joke, “He’s minutes away from killing us over this room. We can just share the bed.”
He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’ll sleep in the tub.”
Oh, he certainly seems to hate the idea of sharing a bed with you, huh.
“Nonu, please, it’s late and we’re both tired. It will be just like when we were kids,” You explain, setting aside your stuff.
Wonwoo nods, sitting on the strangely comfortable bed.
“You think they have robes?” You ask, looking around.
“Wouldn’t bet on it.”
“Oh, I’d kill to get out of this dress,” You whine, running to the bathroom to check for anything you could wear instead of your dress.
He just bites at his lips, watching you pace from side to side in that tiny bedroom.
That’s when you remember your forgotten shopping bags sitting in the trunk! Your compulsive shopping habits just saved you from a very uncomfortable night’s sleep, how convenient!
“I think I have some clothes in my car,” You announce, grabbing the keys and heading toward the door.
“Wait, you’re going by yourself? let me go with you.”
“I don’t wanna lock the door, though,” You whine.
He sighs, “Stay here, I’ll go.”
You jump, “Thank you, Nonu!”
While Wonwoo rummages through your trunk and pulls out the surprising large amount of shopping bags, you shed off your clothes and head toward the bathroom, dying to get some hot water on your body, put on your new PJs and doze off.
When he returns however, he is greeted by a sight any other man would die to see. You’ve left a trail of clothes from the bed toward the bathroom door. Starting on your pretty dress, splayed out over tiled-floor, and then your tights and then your underwear, matching, too—
He clears his throat. “I’m back!”
But you probably don’t hear him through the running shower, so he just sets down the bags and avoid the sight of your clothes. He decides to turn on the tiny TV and browse through any late night re-runs. You take only a couple of minutes in your shower.
“Nonu?” You ask from the bathroom.
“Yeah?” He turns down the TV.
“Did you find the clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you bring me something to wear?” Wonwoo gulps.
“Uh— Which one?”
“There should be a light blue bag and a pink one.”
“Okay—“ He stands up and searches for the aforementioned colours.
Wonwoo heads to the bathroom door and leans against the wall, facing away from the door. He knocks once. You open the door and shove your arm through, reaching for the bags.
“Thank youu!”
He returns to the boring TV. Though all he could think about was the sight of your wet supple skin, knowing you were bare with only a thin sheet of plywood separating you.
You leave the bathroom smelling of cheap soap and fresh into your brand new nightgown. It is tentatively short with an almost see-through round of lace over the hems. In your defence, you weren’t planning on showing this nightgown to anyone anytime soon.
Sitting on the bed, you look around the room, not noticing how Wonwoo’s eyes don’t really meet yours or how red his ears seem to burn.
“Aren’t you gonna shower?” You ask.
“Feels a bit redundant to shower and get back into my dirty clothes.”
“I think I might have something for you, if you don’t want to sleep in a suit,” You pry.
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”
“But you can’t judge! I bought this for my dad because you know he deals very poorly with the heat— And he never buys himself anything!” You’re explaining yourself in advance because you remember very well what you bought.
Silky boxer shorts and a tank top, which your father loved to sleep in on stuffy summer nights but you doubted would be Wonwoo’s first choice of wear, ever.
He haggles with his own mind; give into the silky boxer shorts or sleep in the most uncomfortable outfit ever. With a tired sigh, Wonwoo accepts his fate and grabs the bag.
You smile as he stomps toward the bathroom with a defeated frown.
By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned up your trail of clothes and made yourself very comfortable in the bed. You turn your head to face him.
God, he could make a potato sack look good.
“How’s the fit?” You pull your eyes away before you look for too long.
Wonwoo shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”
You laugh.
He coyly joins you in bed, keeping a large gap between your bodies, settling on top of the covers while you’re under their warmth.
“Ain’t you cold?” You ask, fidgeting with the TV remote.
Wonwoo shakes his head, leaning back into the headboard. With a pout, you cross the figurative bridge between the two of you and reach for him. He doesn’t shy away from your touch but it visibly confused.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, hands hovering in the air, far away from your exposed back.
“I’m sorry your birthday party sucked,” You murmur against his chest, Wonwoo smiles softly, letting his hands rest on you.
“It didn’t suck in its entirety,” he says, palms slightly tapping at your back, “it was fun running away with you.”
You giggle at his comment, heart fluttering at its meaning, “What are we going to do? About the engagement, I mean…”
“We?” He raises an eyebrow.
You pull away from him.
“Well— You dragged me into this!” You slap at his chest and he lets out a boisterous laugh that almost manages to pull the corners of your from into a smile.
“I know, I’m taking the piss out of you,” He extends his arms, pulling you back to your previous position, resuming the soft caresses he leaves on your arms. “I don’t know— This is the first time I’ve ever gone against my father.”
You sigh. “Don’t you wanna marry Suzy?”
There’s a pause and oh, you’re begging, wishing to hear the words you want most.
“Fuck no!” Wonwoo exclaims and you fail to hide your excitement.
“She is pretty,” You throw the bait, to pry at his true feelings.
“So is your sister, should I just marry any pretty girl?”
You raise from your position, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. Wonwoo looks at you, completely clueless to his words and its consequences.
“What the hell?!”
“What?”
Kicking off the covers in a flurry, you kneel on the bed, staring at him dead in the eyes. “You have the hots for my sister!”
It’s Wonwoo’s turn to get angry, “What?! No— You’re twisting my words—“
“I’m twisting your words?! You just said you think my sister is pretty!”
“Because she is!”
You jaw drops, you can’t believe he is doubling down. “Wow,” you shake your head.
“What’s wrong with saying that?”
You shrug, turning away from him and crossing your arms. “I don’t know, why don’t you just go an marry my sister, then.”
Only then, does this thick-headed man you love so much realise he has been complimenting other girls without so much as telling you a single nice word — the bare minimum. He sighs and offers you a soft smile, shifting in the bed until he is near you again.
“I don’t want to marry your sister. I think she is pretty, but she’s not the prettiest sister, you are.” He waits for your reaction.
Hook, line and sinker.
You turn around immediately, a hint of smile playing in your pretty lips.
That’s enough for him to break into a wide smile, opening his arms to welcome you back into his warmth. You crash into his chest, wrapping yourself around his torso.
He groans, falling back into the mattress but not letting go of you.
Minutes pass before you speak again. “It’s past midnight…” You whisper.
“It’s well past midnight… Why?”
You shift upwards until your faces are only inches apart, breath tickling his lips, your beautiful eyes gleaming under dim motel lighting. “Happy birthday,” You whisper between smiles, “Make a wish.”
Wonwoo breathes in, eyes scanning your face, “There’s one thing I want…”
“What is it?”
If he said it out loud, he might’ve lost all courage to do so.
So he just does it, Wonwoo leans forward until his lips meet yours in a chaste kiss.
It probably lasted a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a lifetime when you were finally kissing the man you’ve loved for god knows how long. There’s a spark of electricity that burns bright from the moment your lips touch and travels through your body, blood boiling in excitement, shyness, and pure love.
When the kiss ends, Wonwoo studies your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. Which is even more worrying when you’re standing there, froze solid with an empty stare.
But thankfully, before he can say anything, you throw caution into the wind.
You pull him into a kiss. Throwing every sense of morale and shame you had out the damn window. He was a man sworn to another, for Pete's sake! But here you here, crashing your lips into his perfect, soft ones.
Wonwoo lets out a quiet groan, almost inaudible, but you hear it, oh yes, you do. And it runs straight through your chest and down to your core.
Although the sensible, rational part of your brain tells you to quit kissing him at once and just apologise, the other 99% of your brain, who’s been in love with him since forever, wants nothing of the sort. And you might have listened to the not-so-rational part of you, because you just deepened the kiss, shifting your weight until you’re partially on top of him.
Your lips move against him, shyly exploring this kiss, engraving every moment into your memory.
Yet he reciprocates. His warm hands finds your waist, holding you flush against his torso, heartbeats thumping completely in-sync. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the chance to pull you deeper into those dangerous lips of his. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, licking and twirling against yours, hot and eager.
He dips his head, one hand reaches to tangle into your hair and manoeuvre you around, allowing himself complete freedom to explore every bit of your mouth.
Wonwoo kisses like no other. Not that you had too much of a repertoire to compare him to.
But he consumes your lips with an unbound hunger, nothing similar to the calm and collected Wonwoo you knew, no. He’s hungry, messy, and very clumsy, clashing teeth one too many times, letting saliva drip down your chins and struggling to move with you on top of him.
When you part the kiss, you lay there breathless, gazing into his ridiculously beautiful beady eyes and long eyelashes, his handsome sharp nose and the most kissable lips you’ll ever see.
It was breathtaking, mind-blowing and nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your heart beats so fast you feel as if you might pass out at any moment but you’d die before you give up experiencing that again.
“What was that?” He whispers and his breath tickle your kiss-swollen lips.
“Your birthday gift,” You bite at your lower lip. “Did you like it?”
Wonwoo smiles, breathless and half-lidded and your heart damn near bursts. “I did. Did you?”
You nod.
He nods. “Wanna do it again?”
You nod and he gives you that stupidly handsome smile of his.
And once again, you’re attached at the lips. This once, nothing like before, which you though impossible. It’s so much more desperate and it burns, it boils your blood in absolute desire. It leaves you light-headed, it wipes away your cognitive thoughts and leaves behind a foggy cloud of barely strung-together words that only translate into wanting more. More of him.
You sigh into the kiss and he drinks it all up, he consumes everything you give him with erratic hands and eager tongue.
Wonwoo leaves your lips and you whine with a breathless sigh of his name, almost chipping at any resolve he had left. But he nips at your neck nonetheless, warm, wet tongue trailing along your skin, making you twitch in his arms with the most delectable little ‘yips’ of surprise.
He bites, feral and determined; determined to make his claim, to leave behind his mark on your body, to indulge in carnal pleasure without a prospect of tomorrow, letting everything else be a construct beyond these motel walls, away from where you laid. Away from this reality where he had you in his hands and you moaned his name with a soft smile.
Practically tearing your nightgown, he pulls the silky fabric just enough until your tits spill out of its confine. Wonwoo sighs at the sight, fingers trailing the contour of your boobs, raising goosebumps along sensitive skin. His eyes are burning in adoration, the most depraved glaze of hunger hidden behind sheer excitement.
He dives in, hands kneading at the flesh, squishing soft skin.
Slender fingers caress your aereolas, running fingernails along your nipples in curiosity, watching you squirm and bite at your lips as your nipples begin to perk up.
And when you thought he was done, Wonwoo attaches his mouth to your nipple, sloppily running his tongue around it before he sucks. He makes sure to let his teeth graze, just to watch you jump.
All while his other hand makes work of your unattended boob, your attention is so thinly divided between his teasing fingers and his hot tongue and the sweetest, most satisfied groans that erupt from his throat.
Your face burns and you bite at the back of your hand, shoving down every stubborn moan that tries to make it past; but he won’t have that, no. Wonwoo reaches for your arms, pinning them above your head without so much as pulling away from your tits.
Mindlessly, you’ve been rocking back and forth against him, chasing a gut feeling you’re unsure of but desire more than anything ever. And without realising, you’ve been teasing him just as much as he has you, which is clear by the volume contained by his shorts.
He wishes he could ravish your breasts all night, but any more of your squirming and he will come undone without so much as a touch from you.
Wonwoo pulls away, hands once against finding your waist as he pulls you back to his chest.
“You know what comes next, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, half-lidded, lust-filled eyes gazing so deep into your own.
“I— I’ve never done it before,” You confess.
And something stirs within him, to know he is your first, the first and only man to every touch you this way, to trace his lips over your gorgeous body, to settle inside of you.
Wonwoo smiles and kisses your nose, “I don’t care… But only if you don’t care that I haven’t either.”
You’re surprised, to say the least.
Kissing in between smiles, you raise to your knees, letting him tug at the hem of shorts just enough to free his cock.
It’s nothing like you’ve seen before and unlike the illustrations you remember from school. It’s red and veiny and it glistens with pre-cum under the dim lighting.
But it’s a part of him and you can’t help that your belly stirs at the sight of him stroking himself.
When you reach for the hem of your nightgown, his hands stop you.
“Keep it on—“ He whispers.
“Why?”
“We’ve got all night to take it off,” He runs his tongue through his top teeth with a side smirk and you almost smack him up the head for being such a little shit.
As he asked so kindly, you bunch up your nightgown around your waist, hips circling around his warmth, meanwhile he’s playing with the flesh of your love handles, kneading and running his fingers over your skin.
“Ready?”
You nod. He raises your hips and lets you control the pace, you feed in his cock, centimetre by centimetre, feeling it’s girth tear at your walls with an unimaginable sting, it burns hot and heavy in your hands.
Crashing onto his chest, you cry out a pained yelp.
Wonwoo run his fingers over your back, kissing the top of your head, his eyebrows are bunched up, face painted with worry. “We can stop— Let’s stop—“
“No!” you raise your head and he can see the tiny droplets bundling around your eyelashes, “Just gimme a minute!”
So you sit there, his cock half-in, pulsing angry red and throbbing under the tease of warmth and tightness. Especially when you look so breathtakingly gorgeous, he gulps, leaning back against the headboard, urging his mind to be strong.
It takes you minutes to get used to it, to slowly let the size settle until your muscles are well and accustomed to it and then you start it all over again, feeding the remaining inches until he’s bottomed out.
And oh heavens, how utterly full and hot you felt. Despite the stinging pain, part of you wants to chase the pleasure, clenching in sheer hunger.
Wonwoo stares up at you, looking for any signs of discomfort but he is met with the most enticing, beautiful, and tempting creature he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Your eyes are glassy with tears, but you’ve got a determined look on your face with a hint of a smirk that sends shivers down his spine and up his cock.
“Shit,” He curses out with a smile, leaning back and rutting into your hips only to watch your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gape, a moan threatening to escape. “Ready to move, pretty girl?”
You breathe out, “Yeah.”
Steadying yourself against his chest, you raise your hips, feeling his absence leave you upsettingly empty until you let your body crash back down, his cock impaling you with its warmth once again. You rock against him, shallowly, though the motion is unbearably teasing, even for you.
Wonwoo lets out an obscene, strained moan, fingernails digging into your waist, but you’re too focused on rocking your hips to notice. How he wants nothing but to piston his hips into your pussy like there is no tomorrow, he relishes in the feeling of your warmth, tight and gummy around his throbbing member.
And he finds you might be just as insatiable as he is, especially when you’ve found yourself a steady pace, bouncing up and down, and his name pours out of your lips in such a beautiful manner. Though he can’t just let you have all the control, can he?
“Oh—“ You yip, “Feels so— Good—“ Still unsure of your thought, you explore the feeling, rolling your hips, feeling him stretch your wider, fill your insides and leave you full like you’ve never felt before.
His hips meet yours half way, chasing your cunt every time you leave and pounding into you when you come back down, filling the room with guttural groans and the lewd sound of skin against skin.
You run your fingers under his shirt, feeling bare, warm skin, the softness of his flesh against your hands, the definition of his pecs and the way his nipples peek through the fabric. Wonwoo groans at the way your manicured nails scratch at his chest, gathering momentum as you bounce yourself on top of him.
He notices you’ve started moving faster, practically fucking yourself stupid on his cock and he would tease you halfway through tomorrow if he didn’t find himself in such a similar predicament. His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows furrowed across his brow, pretty lips hanging agape. You’re so utterly perfect and you were all his.
“Tell me how you feel, baby,” He whispers, slowing down for a second.
You sigh, nuzzling against his neck, “So good— I can’t even describe it—“ Your words are so airy and mindless, you’ve been consumed by the pleasure he gives you.
He catches the sight of the white rim that pools around his member, a mix of your juices, but it’s gone, sheathed inside you before he can admire it. There’s a poisoning thought that flashes in his mind, a fleeting, tempting picture. Of planting his seed in your womb, watching your grow full with child, his child. How absolutely breathtaking you would look, round cheeks and gorgeous smile, pretty fingers caressing your bump. And he would taint your taut stomach with his cum, watching it drip over your skin.
Wonwoo bites his lips so hard it breaks skin, throwing his head back, willing his mind somewhere else, anything else lest he come undone right then and there.
Stomach tingling with indescribable pleasure, you lean forward, moaning incessantly, unable to contain your ecstasy. He supports your body, wrapping strong arms around your torso, firm hands planted on your hips, taking over the moving so you can lay still and let the buzz consume your body with its electric touch.
It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, and it crashes over your body in a colossal wave, building up from the pit of your stomach; sending tingles rushing through your boiling blood.
You raise your head, eyes meeting his and it seems he is familiar with this pleasure. His left hand meets your face, caressing your cheek, yet holding you still so he can gaze, he can watch you come undone around him.
Wonwoo watches, unblinking, how your eyebrows furry, your eyes are glossy with tears that cling to your pretty lashes, your lips sit in an enticing pout. Yet you part them, letting out increasingly louder cries of his name.
And you clench around him like there is no tomorrow, egging him on. He thrusts up into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his over the edge.
He crashes his lips into yours, savouring your hazy kiss, your tired sighs and it doesn’t take long before he’s spurting hot white strings into you, it trickles down him and stains the silk fabric of his boxers.
Soon, he stills all movement except for heavy breathing and the soothing circles he runs over your exposed back.
He kisses your hair. “How do you feel?”
“Good,” You breathe out, “Tired. But good.”
His chest shakes with a soft chuckle, he runs slender fingers along your hairline, fixing any hairs that cling to sweaty skin. “Me too.”
“It felt amazing,” You smile, raising your head to face him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Wonwoo hums.
“I’m glad it was you, Nonu,” You hid your face against his neck in embarrassment at your own mushy words, but Wonwoo feels their extent, hiding the blush of his cheeks.
It doesn’t take long before the post-orgasm haze lulls you into sleep.
And you slept like never before.
The following morning, Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed. He panics for a second or two, scrambling to look for your belongings, only to find everything is still there.
Calm, he washes himself up and gets dressed to leave. Finally having a moment to digest the previous night’s events.
He had made up his mind, he would confront his father. His future was his to decide on.
Looking for you, Wonwoo reaches the foyer, only to see you leaning against the wall, attached to the payphone. When your eyes meet his, you immediately say your goodbyes, ending the call.
“Who did you call?” Wonwoo crosses his strong arms against his chest and you try to ignore the sight of his muscly forearms peeking from the folded sleeves.
You don’t like his tone. “Seokmin.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why did you call him?”
“I promised I would,” You shrug.
Wonwoo can’t believe you would call Seokmin out of everyone, especially after you were glued to him last night at the party. “Why him?”
“He’s worried about you, you stupid— Stupid—“ You choke out on any mean names, simply stomping away from him.
Why was Wonwoo being so mean so early in the morning? You thought after the amazing night you spent together things would change between you. Stomping your way back to your room, you grumble under your breath.
While you’re folding your clothes, Wonwoo comes back.
“I’ll talk to my father,” He announces.
Before you can say anything about that, he continues. “We’ll get married— You and I, I mean— ” He clears his throat, “Will you marry me?”
Like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen, staring at him big-eyed with a dopey smile on your lips.
“You’ll marry me?” You question, just in case you’ve tricked yourself into hearing the words you’ve wanted most.
“Yes. And I— I’ll take full responsibility—“
You smile crashes into the ground. “You want to marry me out of… Responsibility?!” The words choke you on their way out.
Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, not understanding why you would be upset. “Do you not want to?”
“No, I don’t want to fucking marry you!” Not like that.
His face falls and he assumes a much scarier look on his face. “What would you rather marry Seokmin, then?”
And in your fury, you blurt out “Yes! Yes, I would rather marry him!”
You realise your rejection hurt him, you do. But you’re so blindsided by your anger you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he sees you as a responsibility.
Wonwoo is suddenly not so angry, but indifferent. You watch his expression go away, replaced by one much scarier, in your opinion; nothing. A plain poker face.
“Gather your things and go to the car.”
It’s all he says before he leaves the room.
The ride back is the most nerve-racking hours you’ve ever experienced. Wonwoo is silent, even you huff and puff under your breath, angrily chewing on your breakfast of vending machine snacks.
Though he says one phrase as you reach the city. “Leave me here.”
And that’s the last you saw of him for over a month.
Your previous anger dries up, turning into sadness. Then you’re furious. And heartbroken until you’ve accepted your reality. You’ve ruined your friendship and lost the love of your life.
It takes your sister plucking you out of bed for you to finally leave your bedroom in weeks.
She was the first and only person you’ve told about the night spent with Wonwoo. Your parents were absolutely furious that you’d do something so dangerous, though relieved at your safety, they weren’t easy on their words.
“He’s not doing well, you know,” You sister says.
You humph.
“I’m serious. Daddy said he’s clumsy, keeps messing up his work. I think you should go and see him.”
Closing your eyes, you let out a worrisome sigh. You still cared way too much to hear those news and not do something about it.
So you dress up in whatever you can find and drive to his shop, building up a speech on your way there and practising every scenario. You just hoped everything could go back to the way it was.
He’s working on an old model, hunched over the hood in his light blue coveralls, stains of grease from head to toe.
“Knock knock,” You announced your presence, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, looking forward to meeting his eyes as much as you dread to.
Wonwoo immediately recognises your voice, turning around to meet your eyes.
And he looks just as wrecked as you felt. Deep-set eye bags and a tired gaze. Yet he still smiles just as handsomely.
“Hey,” He greets.
“Busy?”
“No! No,” Wonwoo scrambles, placing the wrench down removing his gloves.
“Can we talk?”
“Yeah, I actually— I wanted to talk to you, too.”
It’s somewhat relieving as well at it’s worrying to hear him say that, it could be an apology as well as an insult or something of the sort.
“We should— We should go to my office, someone might come in—“
“Yeah— We should.” You nod.
You walk into his office, one you’ve visited and killed time in quite often. But coming here after everything feels so crushing, all this distance between you.
“Go ahead—“
“You first—“
You both say at the same time and that seems to ease the stubborn awkwardness pooling in the air. You laugh.
“How about we say it together?”
“On 3?”
“1”
“2”
“3”
Breathing in, you say the words that come to your mind from the bottom of your heart.
“I want to marry you.”
“I love you.”
“What?!”
“What?!” Once again, you both say it at the same time.
“You want to marry me?” He breaks into a wide smile.
“And you love me?” The words feel so alien to you, you can barely believe your ears, you feel the tips of your fingers shake in excitement, your heart pounds so strongly against your rib cage you can almost hear the thumping.
Jeon Wonwoo just said he loves you.
“I— Are you sure you want to marry me? You said you didn’t want to!”
“Yes. Well— I’ve loved you since forever! So when you said you wanted to marry me just out of responsibility— I was heartbroken! It’s like you were forced into doing it!”
“I didn’t want to marry you out of responsibility! I’ve been planning to marry you since the beginning—“
You choke, “You what?!”
Wonwoo sighs, “I never wanted to marry your sister and she was well aware of that… We were blessed that she found her husband and when everything went well, I thought— I hoped that it’d mean we’d be the ones to be wed.”
Processing every word, you almost feel dizzy. “But you said you’d take responsibility!”
“For roping you into running away from my party.”
“Oh.” You’re beyond embarrassed for assuming and above all, for getting so angry you didn’t even let him explain himself.
“I should’ve been clearer,” He admits.
“No— I should’ve talked to you.”
Wonwoo smiles. “Thank you.”
With tiny tears threatening to fall, you can only confirm what you want to know the most.
“You love me?”
“Always,” He smiles.
Wonwoo seems to remember something, he raises his finger in a “wait” motion and leans over his desk, reaching for the top drawer. It’s only when you catch a peek of the velvet box that you almost keel over.
Gulping, he gathers his courage.
In his grease-stained coveralls that smells of expensive cologne and lavender cleaning supplies, Jeon Wonwoo gets down on one knee, nervously looking up at your with his stupidly gorgeous beady eyes and an expectant smile.
“Will you marry me?”
And in your least presentable dress, the one he’d ruined with grease stains and an unruly hairdo, you respond with the biggest smile:
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Had you been questioned, there would be an answer to just how long you will love Jeon Wonwoo.
You’ll love him forever.
#svt smut#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen x reader smut#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen x you#seventeen x you smut#svt x reader#svt x y/n#svt x you#svt x you smut#svt x reader smut#mingyu smut#kpop smut#kpop x reader smut#kpop x you#kpop x y/n#💎svt#Say Yes to me#wonwoo smut#jeon wonwoo smut#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo x you#jeon wonwoo x y/n#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x reader smut#wonwoo x you smut#jeon wonwoo
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Dark! Yandere! Leon Kennedy Headcanons
Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Possessive Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Mention of Plotting, Mentions of Smut, Non-Explicit Depictions of Smut, Mention of Dirty Talk, Mention of Overstimulation, Mention of Choking, Mention of Power Imbalance, Mention of Manhandling, Mention of Aftercare, Dominant! Leon, Rough Leon, Feral Leon, Paranoid Leon, Leon just wants Validation <3, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You'.
SFW
Possessive doesn’t even begin to describe how Leon acts around you.
Territorial may be how you describe him to your friends – a compliment, really.
But the fact that he never lets you out of his sight and worries about you whenever you’re not in his immediate vicinity is…telling, to say the least.
Calls you every 30 minutes on the rare occasion that you’re not together.
“Are you okay ?”, “Are you hurt ?”, “Do you need me to come over ?”
Paranoid aaah Leon.
But he means well – you know that much.
Once, you joked that the two of you “Might as well move in together if we’re going to talk this much !”
And that started putting ideas in Leon’s head.
He does have the notion of staging a break-in at your current home address so that you’ll feel unsafe and be more likely to move in with him.
But he doesn’t want you being traumatised like he is. Not by his hand.
But can you blame his rather questionable behaviour ?
After everything he went through in RE2 and RE4, you’d have been surprised if he didn’t turn out the way he had.
Despite all that, he’s a good boyfriend :>
Does anything and everything you ask him to, without question.
Scarily loyal.
And he expects you to be the same.
That being said, he doesn’t get jealous, as such.
Rather, he believes that the guy who’s been glancing at you every minute or so is planning on attacking you.
Not on Leon’s watch.
Scary dog privilege. Though your ‘scary dog’ is rather pretty; he just has an intimidating glare and figure.
Due to this paranoia and constant anxiety about your health and wellbeing, Yandere! Leon prefers an S/O who’s reclusive, one that doesn’t venture beyond their home very often.
It makes it easier for him to survey you, makes him feel more at ease knowing that you’re tucked away someplace safe.
Well, not entirely safe. Leon firmly believes that you can never be entirely avoidant of disaster unless you’re with him 24/7.
Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Leon has a *sliiight* saviour complex.
He wants to feel strong and dependable – to counteract all that the events of RE2 forced him to feel.
While this manifests in his wild daydreams about saving you from some undead horror straight out of a zombie movie (or real life, in Leon’s case), this manifests in more subtle situations in your day-to-day life.
He’ll open a jar for you, or reach something off the top shelf (regardless of whether you can reach it or not).
Don’t ask how he knew you were going to have trouble opening that particular jar, or that you wouldn’t reach your favourite mug that was placed a few shelves higher than it was yesterday.
It makes his chest swell with pride and strokes his ego.
But, as much as Leon likes it when you’re dependent on him, he does want you to have a fighting chance if the unthinkable should happen – that he’s not around to save you.
He tries teaching you self-defence, which, while you appreciate the thought, you tell him is unnecessary.
Yes, you know (vaguely) about what happened during Leon’s missions (though he is typically quite scant on the specifics, not wanting to worry you or drive you from him, as selfish as he believes that desire is).
But when you tell him that “I don’t need to know self-defence,” and Leon, cautious, asks ‘why ?’ you hit him with an answer far better than anything he’s fantasised about. And trust when I say that Leon has fantasised about you. A lot.
“Because I have you to protect me !”
As well-intentioned and innocent as your statement is, something within Leon breaks. Snaps.
NSFW
He has you under him quicker than you can blink.
His territorial, possessive nature filters through into the way he claims you – marks you.
He doesn’t bite you, though.
Years of trauma with the snapping jaws of zombies has put him off the idea.
But he sucks bruises into your skin, goes harder than intended when he turns feral, gripping your thighs, your arms, your sides – anything accessible to him.
And though he tries his best never to hurt you, he does end up losing himself whenever he gets like this.
Not that you mind.
His lips dip beside your head, and you can hear him say “You’re mine. All mine,” as he holds your body hostage.
He has a lot of endurance and an abundance of excess energy (usually emotional), so he ends up overstimulating you a good deal of the time.
Just pounding into you long after you’ve finished, his face buried into your neck, breathing becoming uneven as he works another euphoric release out of the both of you.
Say his name and he’ll go wild.
“Say it again,” he pants, his chest to yours as he takes you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can protect you – the only one who– aah! –you love–”
I understand why people say Leon’s a switch with bottom lean, but consider that time in RE4 when he said that “Following a lady’s lead just isn’t my style,”
You can’t say that there isn’t at least a remnant of top energy in there.
Hence, Leon – at the very least Yandere! Leon – can be quite…dominant.
As evidenced above.
Also evidenced by the fact that he gets off on the fact you’re weaker or smaller than him.
Doesn’t matter how tall you are, how much muscle you have; Leon is stronger both mentally and physically.
Though, this is somewhat of a guilty pleasure. But he has no problem letting you know what he’s thinking.
“God, you’re so weak,” he says, voice straining with his release hanging over him.
“Say it – say you need me; that I’m the only one who can take care of you, who can make you cry like this,”
Maybe he grabs you by the throat. Maybe he chokes you a little when you’re taking too long to answer.
But, regardless of how rough he can get, Leon is a certified King of Aftercare™.
Feels absolutely abysmal if he thinks he’s hurt you, or pushed you too far.
And your part of the aftercare is purely emotional. You have to convince him that you’re fine, you’re happy. And maybe enjoyed being manhandled a little…
Masterlist
Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist
Juicy Original Content <3
#resident evil#resident evil x you#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil smut#leon kennedy smut#yandere leon kennedy#yandere resident evil#yandere leon#yandere leon x reader#yandere leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy headcanons#resident evil headcanons#resident evil 4
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City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 6
WC:1288 Masterpost
CW: Self-esteem issues, past abuse, past experimentation, past starvation
“Hey Kid,” Jason said after he knocked on the door. It may have been left open a crack for safety reasons, but Jason still wanted to give the kid as much privacy as they could with all this.
The kid looked up at him from the bed with wide, startled eyes.
Right.
“I’m the one with the helmet.”
“I, yeah, same outfit,” the kid mumbled but didn’t look any less wide eyed.
Jason held back a sigh “Can I come in?”
“Sure, yeah,” the kid said as he forced himself to sit up against the wall with shaky arms.
Jason took the seat that Tim had used and kept a careful distance between them, even as he leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I want you to be honest with me, Kid, because you feeling safe here is the most important thing. I’ve made some soup and I’d like you to eat it and some bread, but if you don’t feel comfortable eating something I made we can do am MRE instead. That way you can know it’s still sealed.”
“No. I mean, no to the MRE. Soup sounds…” the kid had to stop and swallow. “That sounds really good.”
“Okay, Kid,” Jason said with as gentle of a voice as he could manage right then. “It’s only going to be a small portion to start, just to give your body time to adjust, but you keep it down and are still hungry there will be more. Whenever you’re hungry there will be food, I promise, and you don’t have to do anything to earn or deserve it. You can just ask whoever is around. Hell, when you’re well enough to walk around you can get anything you want from the fridge or pantry, okay?”
The kid nodded slowly, but that wide eyed look was back. Jason was going to have to warn the others about making sure that the kid ate and knew that he had free access to the food. They should get some granola bars, chips, and bottled drinks for the kid’s room too, but only once they knew the kid wouldn’t gorge himself.
“And just to check, any allergies or restrictions? I made the soup vegan, just to be safe, but it’s got some corn starch as a thickener.”
The kid shook their head.
“Good. After you eat, if you feel up to it, it would be good for you to take a bath or shower. But if you can’t,” Jason gave a little shrug, “that’s fine too. It can be another time.”
The kid shook his head. “I want to. I mean, if I can, I want to. A shower sounds… really good.”
“Yeah, I bet it does. I’ll go get you that soup and a sports drink. I know it’s going to suck, but we’re going to want to track you staying hydrated so you’ll be drinking lots,” Jason warned to another answering nod. He closed the door most of the way behind him again as he left the bedroom.
“He was awake then?” Dick asked softly when Jason moved to fill up a bowl.
“Yeah. Hey, can you start a log? I want to track what the kid eats and drinks and when,” Jason said.
“What’s the starvation concern?” Dick asked with a little frown as he tapped on the tablet.
“Right now I’m worried about the kid not believe he can eat whenever he’s hungry, so we’ll have to keep asking. But we need to watch for gorging. Lots of small meals often right now.”
Dick nodded. “Okay. I’ll make the log and set a silent alarm for whoever’s with him every hour. Did you talk about moving safe houses?”
Jason shook his head as he place two bowls and a plate of buttered bread on a lap tray. “We’ll let him get fed and through the shower first, maybe even another nap.”
“We don’t want him to get too settled here,” Dick pointed out.
“But we also don’t want to spook him,” Jason countered.
Dick just sighed. “Fucking timing.”
Jason opened his mouth—
“And if you make a dick joke right now I will throw something at you, little wing, I am not kidding.”
Jason help his hands up in surrender for a moment before he picked up the tray and headed back to the bedroom. He knocked with his foot before he pushed the door open.
The kid had fixed the bed while Jason was out of the room. He even straightened up the mess of tools that Tim had left.
It made Jason’s stomach turn over.
“You didn’t have to clean up,” Jason said, hoping to let the kid know he didn’t have do work to stay. “Red leaves a mess wherever he goes.”
The words had the opposite effect and the kid ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Jason soothed. He’d have to mention this to the others too. “It’s nice not to accidentally step on a screw or something, just that you didn’t have to. Can I set the tray on your lap?”
The kid nodded and scrambled to straighten back up. Jason was careful not to touch him as he set the tray down and made sure it was balanced.
“So I divided the veggies up differently. Which bowl do you want?”
The kid’s eyes darted between the two bowls and then up to Jason, as if trying to find the right answer.
“I don’t mind either,” Jason added, casually as he could, and sat on the bed next to the kid. “I can get more if I want it. Hell, I probably will. Spoiler always says I’m a bottomless pit with how I eat.”
Slowly, the kid reached out to scoot the bowl more more potato chunks closer to him. He glanced up at Jason from under the messy white bangs. Jason just smiled and took the other bowl for himself. He blew on a spoonful of soup before starting to eat. A beat latter, the kid did the same.
Jason ate steadily, setting a rhythm for the kid to follow, and the kid was mimicking him. It was almost like the other didn’t even know how to eat any more. For a moment, Jason had to close his eyes and breathe. The Pit Rage wasn’t what it used to be, but there was a still an anger that could burn inside him and when it did, it burned so fiercely hot. Right then, it wanted to burn whoever did this to the kid to ashes. Jason didn’t much want to stop it, but he wouldn’t risk scaring the kid for vengeance.
Not when this was his new little brother.
(He wasn’t going to mess up this time, not again.)
The sound of the spoon scraping softly against the bowl next to him trailed off. Jason kept eating, focused on his own bowl, so not to call note to it. He’d like the kid to eat a little more, but he wouldn’t push it. He’d push so little with this kid, not outside of keeping him safe.
When the barely there weight settled against Jason’s side, he froze.
Slowly he turned his head as little as possible.
The kid was tipped over, head pillowed against Jason’s arm, sound asleep.
Jason reached up with his other hand and tapped his comm twice. Dick was at the door in a flash, silent despite having obviously run. The alert bled out of Dick as he took in the sight and his face split into a grin. Silently laughing, Dick raised the tablet still in his hands and started taking photos.
Jason flicked him off for the next shot.
Damn brothers.
---
AN: Another mostly soft Trauma Tuesday! But my is poor Danny messed up... at least he has his big brothers looking after him! (Even he doesn't know that part yet.)
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe here!
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CLOSE • A. HOTCHNER X READER
fluff; teasing; banter; fem!reader; cuddling; a massage; crude jokes (one); mentions of oral; protected sex!; they're so into each other; exactly 2k words
an ask for my sleepover event. prompts: i like you so much, it's worrying. cuddling while the other does their work. do whatever you want. first time together.
“Aaron?” You call as you drop your things on the coffee table of his living room. “Honey?”
“In the office!” He answers and you smile to yourself, getting rid of your shoes and jacket. You take the time to grab water and put some ice in it before walking in. He looks up from his paperwork briefly and smiles.
“Thirsty?” You ask, not caring if he really is as you place the water down on a coaster by his left hand. Aaron just smiles, leaning back slightly as you crawl into his lap and lock your fingers together behind his neck as you nestle into him.
“Hi,” you whisper after a few moments of him working, tilting and craning your neck to press a kiss to the corner of his jaw.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Aaron whispers, tracing his free hand to your back, rubbing soothing shapes and patterns along your spine. “Long day?”
You nod and make a soft whining sound. “So long. I hate when we’re busy and I have to wear heels because of the clients we’re working with that day, you know that? My feet hurt.” You remember then that he must’ve had a long day too. “Though, I guess you understand. You have to talk politics. That’s like heels for the mind,” you scrunch up your nose and he chuckles.
“Silly girl,” he sighs, more to himself and the room than you. “Do you want a massage later? When I’m not busy.”
“But,” you furrow your brow and try to lean back, but his arm traps you to him as he keeps writing his report. “You had a long day too,”
“I don’t mind spending my nights off making you feel good,” he reminds you, eyes flicking to meet yours. You take his silent invitation and kiss him briefly. “I like you.”
“Not even love?” you despair, and he laughs, the rumbling of his chest setting free butterflies in your own.
“I like you a lot. Actually, I like you so much that it’s worrying,”
You beam at him, knowing this is his way of saying you mean a lot to him, make him feel out of control of his stoic persona and carefully reigned-in emotions. “Really?”
“Really, pretty girl.”
With that, you let the silence settle, curling into him. His breathing and the soft rustling of paper works almost as a lullaby, your eyes heavily lidded by the time he finishes up and closes the file, his leaning and turning to put it up jolting you back to awareness.
You make a soft whining sound.
“Shh, I know. Did you eat?” When you nod, he sighs, relieved. “Okay, let’s get you ready for bed then.”
“But what about my massage?” You sulk, and he laughs before realizing you’re being serious.
“We can do that. C’mon. Skincare, brush your teeth, get into pajamas, and then I’ll give you a massage.”
By pajamas, he means his clothes. You spend most nights at his place but aren’t officially moved in yet, and you’d taken all your clothes back to yours for washing last time, and didn’t have time to pack any for today.
“Fine,” you drag out the ‘e’, whiny and annoying. He just smiles.
It takes a lot of coaxing and kisses to get you to get ready – one as a reward each time you finish a task; one any time you decide he looks too pretty (which is often, because he’s smiling at you with soft and fond eyes); and one any time he teases or reminds you to finish up.
“Baby,” Aaron huffs out at a laugh, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you back slightly, holding you at a distance. “As much as I love your kisses — I do, really –, if you want that massage you need to hurry up.”
You scowl at him but there’s suddenly much more haste to your movements.
When you flop down on his mattress and turn expectantly to look at him, he’s shirtless. Your mouth dries and you yelp at the sight, covering your eyes. “What?” He asks, and when you peek again he’s in a pajama shirt.
“Nothing…” you mumble, trying not to sound too sulky as you realize the view is gone.
His brows raise but he says nothing, settling behind you. His fingers trace the hem of your shirt. “Can I push this up?”
You nod eagerly and he brings it up to your shoulders.
“Where hurts the most?”
“My lower back,” you complain, guiding his hand. “It’s like… I dunno. But it hurts like a bitch.”
He’s used to you trying to compare things before running out of words and whining, just smiling at you. “Okay, well, the lotion will be cold. Brace yourself.”
It is cold, and you squirm until his warm and calloused hands begin to rub it. Then, you’re deathly still, hyper-aware of his movements and the rolling press of his thumb pressing deep on a corded muscle.
You have to remind yourself to breathe, and it’s shaky when you do. Aaron doesn’t comment on it, methodically working inch by inch and muscle by muscle up your back. When his knuckle digs in by your shoulder, clearly finding a deep trigger point.
“Fuck,” you whimper.
“Too much?” He asks, beginning to pull back.
“No. Hurts. But in a good way.”
Aaron hums and presses back on the spot with a little less force, working and tugging the muscle until you feel it relaxing with the gentle slide of his hand pulling it to relax.
“Oh,” you moan, voice soft and airy. “You’re really good at this. Maybe you should be a masseuse. You’d be home more.” He doesn’t comment, moving to the same spot on the other side. “Actually, nevermind. I don’t want you touching other girls.”
Aaron laughs. “Men okay? I could think of people on my team who would love a massage.”
You pout into the mattress. “But you’re mine, you can’t do that.”
“I’m yours?”
“Mhm!” You chirp, the happy sound melding into another moan as he releases another knot. “All mine.”
Aaron smiles and kisses your shoulder. “All yours,” he agrees, voice soft.
You smile. “Aaron,”
“__,”
“Can you do my legs, too? If your hands aren’t too tired…”
“How tall were the heels you wore?” He questions, shifting quickly to give you what you want, helping you flip onto your back before pushing your knees apart slightly, just enough so that he can slip a hand under your calf and support it on his thigh to give him room to work the muscles. “You’re so tight.”
You try not to flush at the double meaning, since you know he doesn’t mean it, but you fail, squirming to close your thighs.
“Hm,” Aaron smiles, pressing slightly more firmly against the muscle, watching how the surrounding ones twitch at the sensation and force. “You’re sensitive.”
“You try wearing stilettos.” There’s no bite to your voice.
“You think I’d look good in them?”
You consider for a moment. “Yeah. As long as you were confident and didn’t slouch, you’d look hot.”
Aaron laughs easily. “Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, baby,”
You moan softly in lieu of response as he begins working your thighs. It’s so close to where you’re starting to ache to feel him, and it’s also just a really nice massage.
When he lets his hand trace the hem of your shorts (his boxers that you’re wearing as shorts, to be specific), you jolt. “What are you doing?”
“Am I wrong in thinking you want it?”
“No…” you mumble, suddenly getting shy. “But we haven’t…”
“It’s okay, __, we don’t have to.”
“I didn’t say I don’t want to,” you whine, sitting up and curling your legs under you. “I just don’t want it to be like some happy-ending massage porno.”
He snorts. “Silly girl,” it’s the same teasing from earlier, but his voice has dropped and his eyes are more hooded as he looks at you. “You want this?”
You nod before whispering a soft “yeah”, melting into him as his arms encircle you and he kisses you deeply. It’s warm and heady, deep, passionate, hungry kisses that are infuriatingly slow, savoring your taste and plushness of your lips. He leans you back into the mattress with the kisses, body crowding you to flatten to the sheets.
“Aaron, don’t tease,” you whisper. “We can try that another time.”
His lips quirk up into a smile before he brings the kisses down your neck, and you drop your head back to give him more room. He tugs your shirt off the rest of the way, from where it’s still rucked up your torso partially from the massage.
“So pretty,” the words rush out before you can even begin to worry about his reaction, lowering himself to roll your nipples between his fingers and leave kisses on your flesh. “And all mine.”
You smile at the way his words mirror yours from earlier, but you can’t form speech as his fingers trace you over the boxers. It’s soft and delicate, curious and exploratory as your hips cant for more friction and twitch under him.
“Can I?” He tugs the waistband and you eagerly kick out of them the second he tugs again. He laughs at your excitement, biting his lip as he drinks in the sight of you splayed on his bed.
“I want to taste you.”
You whine at the idea, turned on and also frustrated. “Next time.”
“You don’t want it?”
“I do, but ‘m so empty, Aaron,” you whine, hoping it’ll spur him. “Need to feel full.”
“I’ve got you,” he reassures, yanking off his shirt. The view is just as good as before.
You help him pull off the boxers, swallowing at the sight of his cock. So pretty, just like the rest of him. Exactly what you needed.
“Please,” you whine as he shuffles closer and you wrap your legs behind his back, locking him against you.
Aaron pauses and reaches over you to the nightstand, quickly and carefully opening the condom and rolling it down his length. “Gotta treat you right.” He guides himself against you, studying your heaving chest and blown out eyes.
“Well, you can do that by fucking me—”
Aaron cuts off your complaint with a smooth roll of his hips into you, the words dying on your tongue as you sigh happily.
“You know I’ll do whatever you want,” Aaron tells you, as if he’s not fucking into you with slow, purposeful, and powerful thrusts that have your walls fluttering around him. “Tell me to fuck you, I’ll go until I can’t.”
You swallow. “That a promise?”
“For next time,” he teases, head falling back with a silent moan as he picks up his pace. He brings his thumb to your clit, and he’s just as good at working it as he is working knots out of your muscles.
“God,” you whine. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” Aaron asks, slowly going a little harder and angling his hips until you keen. “There we go…” he murmurs to himself and your breaths hitch like little sobs in your throat.
“So good,” you affirm, squirming as you get closer and closer to the edge.
“Give it to me. Cum around me,” Aaron orders, and you whine, muscles all quivering and tensing as you fall over the edge.
Your hazy mind can still process his groans and flushed, sweat-slick skin, and the stutter to his hips as he fills the condom and collapses next to you after tying and tossing it into the trash. But you can’t bring yourself to talk, still gasping for air as you come down.
“Hey, __?” He asks and you hum, breath slowly evening out. “I like you,”
You scoff at him, “so much it’s worrying?”
“Yeah, actually.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and you roll to your side to kiss it away.
“Well, I feel the same way about you,” you whisper.
really love how the banter and dynamic came out in this one... the prompts selected worked together wonderfully
#my works#📚 sleepover#mdni#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner fluff
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