#she headbutts me a lot. sometimes in the face.
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im bored so im posting cat. this is trixie she likes to scream and does not own a single braincell
#cat#she is also a grumpy old lady#and Only likes me. she will meow at me until i lay down and then jumps up on my lap immediately#but she does NOT do that for anyone else. not really#she has cat anxiety and likes to lick everything she can#she headbutts me a lot. sometimes in the face.#shes a good kitty and i love her
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To me it is canon that Eren borderlines between pretty and handsome (or rather androgynous type cuz why not.) I mean, doesn't he look like his mom a lot?????? When he's not depressed and whatnot. On top of that mofo has the most prettiest eyes who wouldn't like have a big ass crush on that fine mf. Fanfic authors IM POINTING THIS OUT FOR A FANFIC TO MAKE ABOUT YALL. Andro!Eren is all I think about.
I mean. Jean in their cadet years pointing out that Eren with just a wig and a make up he would look like a girl and Eren would just smile all pretty and shit and Jean would be like omfg, mf has a beautiful smile when he doesn't scowl all the time, then Eren would say thanks I got it from my mom. Cuz everyone in shiganshina tells him all the time that he looks like his mom, but has the color palette of his father. Jean is obsessed with Mikasa's hair while he is the same with Eren's eyes everytime he headbutts him or get too close to his face all eager for a fight and Jean would be down bad for him.
Mikasa probably has the same filter Eren has with her that highlights his beauty and some shit. In her POV Eren's eyes would no doubt be brighter and be mixed with more gold and silver from his parents. He probably is a more flawed gary stu in her eyes. Eren probably is the reason why she's a little bit bi. Girls and boys alike would try to reason with her to tell Eren to have longer hair or shorter hair (she doesn't ask Eren to do shit to her hair but sometimes she wonders how long chestnut locks would feel on her fingers and hands.)
Armin would be more entranced with Eren after seeing the sea and the northern lights or the night skies. They're smooshed within Eren's eyes anyways. (According to the anime) Green and blue like the sea he always wanted to see, with sparkles of silver and gold like skies he wasn't used to admiring that much or rather pay attention that much, then with the hints of violet like the northern lights. All of it, all of it was in Eren's eyes.
There, done with my Ted talk lmao
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“You stopped petting me, mortal. Now you must suffer.” 😆🤣😂🐈 Do the Cryptids also do the head bump of How Dare You Ignore Me, Human? (We have one Ginger Terror who will sing an aria and debag your trousers if he feels attention is wanting. 😸🐈🐈.)
Polk will sometimes headbutt me, but mostly she whaps me with her paw. Dearborn doesn't seem to understand she can headbutt/scentmark living creatures; the only time she ever headbutts is when I'm already petting her and it's really more shoving her face into my stomach, and she never scentmarks me or Polk. Polk, meanwhile, wants to scentmark everything, all day long, forever. They really are such funny sisters.
Polk has noticed in the last six months or so that if she makes noise, I always respond to the noise, and this has led to a Lot More Noise Than Usual. She doesn't seem to understand vocal tone, so I've got one cat that only trills to herself and purrs, and one cat that can't purr and only screams in panic even when she's not panicked. These babies, I swear.
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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡
I'm SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG
and thank you to @yesitsloulou because I saw you sent me this too and y'all are so so sweet for it. Seriously. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO FREAKING MUCH
Top 5 things that make me happy, let's goooo (strap in this is a long one)
Friends & Family
I'm putting them together cuz technically friends ARE family to me. More and more do I realize just how stinkin important they are and how much they make my day/month/year.
My friends sending me tiktoks/memes they think I'll love or remind them of me, who love me for me and I can be my goofy self with them
my parents being endlessly supportive and hear me out, who sometimes pick me up coffee or snacks simply because they are thinking of me. My mom, who used to take my brother and I to anime cons and would patiently listen to us rant about our latest obsession and STILL does it till this day even though she has no interest in any of it because she loves us that much. Or my dad who will be a big ol' goof and won't stop till he's cracked a smile out of me.
2. Mutuals
I would put mutuals in the friends and family category, but y'all deserve your own spot because otherwise I'd go on forever lmao (also I see mutuals as friends but I know some people might find that TOO familiar and I'm not trying to weird ya out or nothin)
mutuals who leave tags on reblogs, letting me know their thoughts or little comments to me. Or the reblogs on my art and letting me know if you love it or not?? like 'IM OVER THE MOON'. Know that I'm squeeing and kickin my feet and twirling my hair. All of it. Also, seeing how excited y'all are about a certain show, books, fandom etc Even those posts that are like 'reblog if you would gently headbutt with the person you reblogged this from if y'all were cats'. I love that. I mean it when I say that all of this makes my entiiirrree day. I love it and I love y'all!!
3. My Pets
Seeing their cute little faces gets me through so much. They let me hug and kiss them a whole bunch and it fills me with so much seratonin, holy hell. They have helped me on lonely nights, being little supportive spirits when I'm in my head too much or going through a bad break up. If y'all want some cuteness too, heres a pic of the two of them. I lost my sweet Gir last year and it still gets to me. It's also the anniversary of her passing, but she was an amazing dog.
4. CBD gummies
okay so this is left field and sounds goofy, but I struggle with sleep pretty badly. I'm a night owl through and through, so it makes settling down super hard. My brain just won't shut the fuck up. It's caused my anxiety to spike enough to get medicated for it. However, with these gummies I can FINALLY bank on a good night's sleep and for that I am forever thankful. It also makes me feel so damn good too, so it even calms my anxious nerves. It's made me happy to tears, let me tell ya.
5. Baking
Been finding a lot of happiness in trying new recipes. Some of my favorite nights are getting tipsy/high, baking, and watching horror movies. I've mad pie dough, mini pumpkin pies, brownies, no bakes, caramels, truffles, muffins and god its been such a TREAT. I made my friends and family baked goods and it filled me with so much joy.
Thank you so so much for the sweet ask!! <3 I'm so happy to have y'all as mutuals. Seriously, you make the weeks that much sweeter. I hope you are doing great. Sending you lots of love! ❤️❤️❤️
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🗣️💗👻 for the WIP ask game.
Under the cut because it's long and I still feel like I wouldn't have said everything I need to say orz
🗣️Talk about your favourite WIP
To be honest, I don't think I ever written it down because I felt guilty about it being an inspiration from another fanfic I had read. It was for Kimetsu no Yaiba and on paper it sounds interesting because I wanted to use the concept of The Butterfly Effect as a basis. I also wanted to throw in a completely scene lifted from another anime completely unrelated to Kimetsu no Yaiba, specifically a scene where someone flips a coin to help them make a decision and then the person decides not to see which side the coin landed. I feel like as I'm writing all of this down it feels like I'm reaching with trying to make a connection about decision making, coin flips, and the concept of a butterfly effect.
(Correction, I looked through my phone and I did have some prewriting on there, but there's a lot of details I do remember I wanted to make a point of adding but never wrote them down in the prewriting)
I still remember the details and general direction, but I think the biggest hangup I have is that it's inspired from another fanfic.
[Going to link the fic that gave me the inspiration anyway.]
💗Is there a scene you can’t wait to write for a WIP?
This is a Pokemon one, but I think it'd be funny if Jirachi tries to push Brendan using Zen Headbutt, but it fails because Brendan ends up flinching and not moving. Jirachi had to stand there and watch with a :I face before sending him flying with psychic instead. Yes, this is a Serene Grace joke. (I also have a running gag where Pokemon just look at Brendan and have the instinct to fling him the air, from his starter, to Latios/Latias, to Rayquaza, to JIrachi)
👻Is there a scene that you find intimidating that you have yet to write?
Not a specific scene, but I do find writing dialogue a bit hard. I always worry too much if I *sound* like the character. Honestly, I do feel a bit bad because there's not much distinction between the narrator and my own voice. Truthfully, I avoid writing Futo even though she is my favorite character because I'm not really fond of trying to write in Shakespearean (I think the reason people do it is to play up her archaic language) but i would rather just play up her nobility status with very formal language. Though I guess the tradeoff is that she can sometimes sound pretentious...
Now that I think about it a lot of my fanfics stop around the time where dialogue starts to get heavy....
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Taken
Summary: Natasha will do anything to skip dinner with her family.
Natasha Romanoff x Super Soldier Fem Reader
Word Count: 786
A/N: Just a small blurb about something fun I had on my mind. I’m considering writing a second part where R, Nat and her chaotic family have dinner together. Let me know if you’d like that! And I hope you enjoy this, it was fun to write :)
It should be an easy choice. Black was elegant, red was your favorite color (because of Natasha’s hair, of course).
“Miss Y/L/N” F.R.I.D.A.Y said, as you kept putting the red dress in front of you, assessing your look in the mirror.
“Yes, F.R.I.D.A.Y?”
“Miss Romanoff asked me to inform you she’s been kidnapped and won’t be able to make it to dinner”
“She WHAT?”
“She assured me she’s fine, she just won’t be able to make it”
“I know she’s fine” you threw the dresses to the bed and began to pace around, looking for your suit and gun. “What I can’t believe is she’s missing dinner with her family”
Like hell she was, you decided, packing up a change of clothes for both of you.
“I’ll need her location”
“Right away, Miss Y/L/N”
***
“Are you disappointed your friends haven’t come and saved you yet?”
“We’re more like coworkers”
The man mocked Natasha and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. A warehouse in the middle of an abandoned factory? Predictable. His speech? She didn’t even need to question him; he’d give everything away on his own. Her only concern were the cuffs; it felt impossible to pick at the lock. The redhead would definitely have to break the chair and then take them to Tony to analyse the technology.
“Cowards. That’s what they are. All this power and they choose to build little robots. In the right hands, men could become gods”
“Gods?” she echoed with a smirk. The man’s facade came crumbling down at Natasha’s smugness. “So this is about Thor”
“I didn’t…”
At that precise moment, an explosion shook the building.
“Don’t take this the wrong way… but thank you for...”
An alarm interrupted the spy’s words and she looked annoyed at the door. The man walked towards the entrance, but quickly stepped back and stood next to Natasha, several of his men shouting in the hallway.
“Thank you for your coopera…”
More men shouted, their bodies crashing against the door. Natasha lost her cool and screamed, knowing full well you could hear everything.
“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH?”
“FINE!”
As the man glanced back, Natasha winked at him and was able to deliver her line.
“As I was saying. Thank you for your cooperation”
A kick in the leg, followed by a headbutt and he’s unconscious before he can process anything else.
“Did I step on your moment?” you mocked, kicking the door down.
“You ruined my favorite part”, she complained, unable to loosen the restraints that kept her arms behind her back.
“Honestly, Natalia”
“What? I’m working!” she looked over her shoulder, while you kneeled trying to break the cuffs. “Try not to break them, I want Tony to take a look at them”
“Working on your day off, on a mission that wasn’t supposed to happen until next week” you grumbled, ignoring her request.
“Did Maria betray me?”
“No, I hacked into her system”
“She’s gonna be pissed”
“Yeah, well. That’s half the fun”
There’s a sigh of relief as you finally broke Natasha free. She brought her arms forward, inspecting her wrists.
“I never said I was going to dinner”
“Yesterday you said and I quote, I’m coming”
“Because I was sitting on your face, you idiot!”
“Huh, that explains it”
Natasha didn’t reply, keeping her head down. You’d expected at least a threat of not getting laid for a week if you forced her to go.
“Hey, Tasha. What’s wrong?”
“They’re a lot to handle”
“I know that. But it won’t be so bad. I’ll be there with you. And Yelena will surely bring a bottle of vodka” you’re caressing her wrists, your thumb circling the back of her hand in a soothing movement.
“That’s the problem. You’ll be there. I can handle them. But what if you get tired of everything? My life is too complicated sometimes”
“Nat” you sighed, heart breaking over the lost look in her face. You brought her hands to your lips and left a trail of kisses. “You’re my world and you’ll definitely never be too much to handle. I love you and all that implies. Including Alexei asking me to arm wrestle every time we meet”
You caught the glimpse of a smile and when she finally looked up, you knew you spoke the right words. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against yours.
“Thank you”
“No problem. Now let’s get out of here. I have a change of clothes for you in the Quinjet” you stood up, offering your hand. She quickly took it and jumped on your arms to carry her, bridal style.
“My hero”
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hi!! so you’ve done leo getting hurt during the greyback game and Finn getting hurt during a Tampa game, so I was wondering if you could do Logan getting hurt and then the aftermath of that? thank you!!!
Oh, Tremzy, how I love you. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!
TW for minor injury, blood, fight
Logan Tremblay did not back down from a fight. Especially not one that dropped itself so nicely into his lap.
“Bitchass motherfucker,” he snarled, jamming his elbow into Hanes’ gut as they grappled. Hanes had three inches on him but was built like a twig—one solid shoulder jam into his sternum, and Logan heard his breath rush out around a grunt.
His own helmet was long gone and the whistle warnings blasted sharp in his ears; a set of hands locked onto his upper arms and began dragging him away. “That’s enough, Tremblay,” the ref barked. “Hanes, you better not—”
Logan didn’t hear the full warning, because his vision went dark.
The blinding pain hit before the spots in his eyes fully cleared. Something warm was gushing down his numb lips and chin. Logan tasted metal, and raised a clumsy hand to check until his knees gave out under him and the ref had to haul him upright a second time. “Oh, shit,” he said thickly, blinking down at the crimson drips on his jersey.
People were shouting. Nothing good came from people shouting, as a general rule. A blurry face swam into view and he nearly went crosseyed trying to focus. “Lo? Lo, hey, look at me.”
“Hey, Harzy,” he managed as he stumbled to his feet and immediately listed forward into Finn’s arms. “Woah.”
“Oh—Jesus, Leo,” Finn muttered. Logan squinted to follow his line of sight and whistled lowly when he found the intended target. Sometimes, he forgot how strong Leo was. How those broad shoulders filled out his goalie pads like he was born for it, how his long legs could take him across the ice in a few strides, how one ungloved hand could easily hold a grown man by the scruff of his jersey and drag him to the nearest ref. He even gave Hanes a light shake when he tried to squirm free.
“That’s hot,” Logan said approvingly. The rink had started to spin a little. His face felt like it was on absolute fucking fire. “Harzy?”
“Yeah?”
“My mouth tastes weird.”
Finn cursed again under his breath and tugged his sleeve down, then pressed it beneath Logan’s nose in a familiar routine. It was their own little dance they had been doing for eight years, now—Logan fights, Logan bleeds, Finn soaks up the blood, Finn looks after him for the next day or two with the occasional affectionate “idiot” thrown in as compensation.
“Did he hit me?” Logan asked as they shuffled toward the bench.
“Headbutt, the motherfucker.”
Logan attempted a grin; from the look on Finn’s face, it came out as more of a grimace. “Hey, that’s what I called him. Did you know helmets are really fuckin’ hard?”
“Yeah, baby, I did.”
“Did I win the fight?”
“Mhmm.”
“Is my nose broken?”
Finn sighed. “For your sake, I hope not. Hey, Layla.”
“Logan Tremblay,” she huffed with a shake of her head. Logan had never heard his name used as an insult before. “C’mon, concussion check.”
“I feel dizzy,” he agreed, allowing Finn to transfer his weight to her shoulders like Logan was a ragdoll. “Layla, I can still taste blood.”
“That does not surprise me, bud,” she half-laughed. “Pain level on a scale of one to ten?”
“Eight. You ever had someone shove un piment up your nose?”
“A what?”
“Un piment.” Logan’s ankles wobbled for a moment before he righted himself. “Desolé. Ah, it’s the tiny, spicy vegetable? Tastes like hell.”
“Chili peppers?”
“Ouais.” He tried to smile and instantly regretted it as the diagonal lines returned to his vision. “This feels like someone put a lot of chili peppers in my face and I would really like to be unconscious right now.”
“Not on my watch.”
His adrenaline was fading fast, along with the delirious confusion. Logan was quite unkindly informed that both of those feelings had acted as a pad and distraction for the, frankly, excruciating pain that radiated all the way from the back of his throat to his forehead. “Oh, fuck.”
Layla stopped walking. Through the blur of involuntary tears, Logan could see the concern flooding her features. “Logan? Hey, eyes on me. What’s going on?”
“I can feel it,” he forced out through gritted teeth, though the clenching of his jaw only made the throbbing worse. “Fucking shit motherfucker—oh, that is so much worse.”
“That’s broken,” she said, almost to herself. “Okay, ten more feet and we’ll be in my office. Take it nice and slow.”
Logan blew out an unsteady exhale, then nodded as best he could. Calm thoughts, he reminded himself. Calm thoughts.
----------------
“Who is it?”
“Just us.”
“I need cuddles and at least two kisses, s’il vous plaît.”
The squeaky sneaker footsteps picked up the pace and Logan smiled, cracking an eye open when they halted by his bedside. Leo raised an unimpressed brow. “You broke yourself?”
“He broke me,” Logan corrected, accepting Finn’s gentle kiss and reveling the butterflies that came with it. “And then you did something about it, so we’re good.”
“Concussion?”
“Just the nose.” He made kissy noises until Leo finally bent and brushed their lips together, skimming his thumb over Logan’s jaw. “I can’t feel my upper lip en ce moment, so I’m sorry if my kisses aren’t up to par.”
Leo frowned slightly when he pulled back. “You’ve got a little split in it.”
“Mmm. Not the first time. Cuddles?”
“Layla said we have to be gentle,” Finn informed him, tucking himself along Logan’s left side. “But I think this is an essential part of the healing process.”
“Ouais.” Logan leaned his head on one angular collarbone and held out his free arm with an expectant look; for all his fussing, Leo didn’t hesitate before claiming his place and resting a hand over Logan’s stomach. “Stop worrying, Knutty, mon dieu.”
Leo made a disgruntled noise into the bend of his neck, then left a small kiss there. “You’re broken. Of course I’m worried. How’s your pain?”
“I got ice and the good stuff. Can’t feel a thing.” That was a bit of a lie—he could still feel his pulse all throughout the bridge of his nose and into his back teeth, but Leo didn’t need to know that. It was manageable. There was no reason for anyone to worry more than they clearly were. Logan tilted his head to the side and let his eyes fall shut again, snuggling into Leo’s damp curls while Finn looped their fingers together.
He felt Finn’s chest buzz with a hum. “We got your stuff together, by the way.”
“Didn’t even think about that,” Logan mused. The freckle just above Leo’s eyebrow was looking far too lonely for his liking, and he pressed a light kiss to it. “Hey, Peanut, I saw your fight.”
“What fight?”
“Hanes.”
“Didn’t fight ‘im,” Leo mumbled, rubbing the side of his face on Logan’s shoulder.
“No, you just dragged his ass halfway across the ice,” Finn teased.
A small, pleased smile curled over Leo’s lips. “His skates stayed on the ice the whole time. He was fine.”
“Mauled his ego, but other than that…” Finn trailed off as the three of them dissolved into laughter. Logan tried to breathe in through his nose on instinct and winced. Both Finn and Leo went still. “Lo, you good?”
“Je vais bien,” he groaned with a light smack to the back of Finn’s head. “I told you to stop worrying.”
“We’re your boyfriends, it’s our job!”
Logan huffed. Stubborn. So rude. “I’m not made of glass.”
“Then you get to carry your own bag back to the car,” Leo teased. He patted Logan gently on the chest and sat up, leaving his side cold; his brows pitched. “God, you two are so cute.”
“We try.” Finn stretched until his feet fell over the end of the PT table, then pushed himself upright despite Logan’s noise of protest. “Let’s go, Tremblay, you need a shower and I need a snack.”
“Layla has snacks,” Logan grumbled, even as he hauled himself into a sitting position and blinked to clear the fizzy spots in his vision. “She’d share.”
Leo crinkled his nose. “Layla has healthy snacks.”
“And butterscotch.”
“Grandma candy?”
Logan raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “Sometimes it’s good.”
Finn and Leo each went to wrap an arm around his lower back before Logan batted them away, rolling his eyes. Two boyfriends, and both possessed by my mother. His jersey was a lost cause—even a few rounds of washing wouldn’t get those bloodstains out—but his pads were in a neat pile that made it easy to tuck into his duffel. Despite Leo’s earlier words, Logan barely got a hand on the straps before it was snatched away. He scowled, but Leo just smiled sweetly.
Finn sidled up to him the second they made it into the hallway and looped an arm around Logan’s waist with a comforting squeeze to his hip. Logan sighed through his nose despite the awkward whistling noise that followed. “Harzy…”
“What?”
“I can walk. I don’t need help.”
“See, I don’t think you understand the point of having two boyfriends,” Finn said. Logan quirked a brow; Finn knocked their temples together lightly. “It’s not about needing anything. You get to let us help.”
Logan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want to.”
“Well, that’s the point of me having two boyfriends.” He turned a sunny smile on Logan and kissed the tip of his bruised, battered nose. “I get to help you whenever I want and let Knutty do the hard work.”
#logan tremblay#finn ohara#leo knut#oknutzy#my fic#fanfic#sweater weather#coast to coast#cubs#lumosinlove#fight#injury
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chained, m | myg
pairing(s): yoongi x reader
summary: You ever fuck someone wearing a collar and a chain... that's attached to the hot girl with the demonic grin? No? Just Min Yoongi? In his defense, he really likes a bad bitch.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; yup, there are Marilyn Manson and Slipknot references; D/s smut (fem reader, black leather collars and a chain leash, [a lot of] choking, saliva everywhere, handjob, m-receiving oral, slight edging, hair pulling, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - rapper, sub!Yoongi x goth (also kinda his manager? lol) dom!reader; kinda PWP; Yoongi's POV
--
feel like I'm hexed, yeah, that bitch bad
collar on her neck and her ass real fat
Most people would say, “Nah, dude, don’t mess with girls like that.”
Most people would say, “She’s fucking scary, why the hell would you think she’s hot?”
Most people would, but Min Yoongi wasn’t most people.
“I want to play a game.”
He tilted his head. “Then let’s play a game.”
She grinned, wild hair over her left eye. “Yeah?”
The first time he met her, he was at a bar and a woman was chatting him up, engaging him in conversation he didn’t want to be in. Fuck. The only reason he came was to accompany his friends, but they were all much more extroverted than he was and had already wandered off with potentials of the night. He didn’t want a potential. He just wanted a damn shot of whiskey and then he was going to slink into a corner and pretend nobody existed.
He minimized his responses to, “Mhm” and “Yeah,” but the woman wasn’t getting the hint and the bartender was busy. Sigh.
All of a sudden, a short man with a white, mannequin-like mask appeared. The white mask was painted with black streaks. He had stringy, long black and red hair and was wearing black coveralls.
Yoongi and the woman jumped away from each other, disconcerted by the appearance of the strange, tiny man.
“Bartender! Hey, real quick, can you get my friend here a drink?”
And then, fuck.
Black leather jacket, silver hardware. Tight fitted white top, so shredded the black bra underneath was visible. Short black pleated skirt. Ripped tights. Thick black boots with chains. Yoongi felt his eyes widen, looking up and down at this curvy frame. Wild hair, lush tits, juicy thighs, an ass that could put anyone in a trance with the way those hips swayed. Dark makeup, playful grin with red-stained lips.
A black choker with at least eight-centimeter spikes.
A pure white contact lens in her left eye.
“Hey, you can’t cover your face here,” a patron interrupted. “That’s creepy.”
The small man in the mask didn’t reply. The woman in black, however, swatted a hand like she was whacking away a fly.
“He’s part of the entertainment. Buzz off.”
“Oh, yes, you’re the band’s drummer, right?” The bartender rushed over. “Sorry, sorry. What will it be?”
The masked man said nothing.
“Double shot whiskey on the rocks,” the woman replied for him. “Did I get it right this time, Hana?”
A single nod from that stringy head.
“What about you?”
Yoongi jumped, startled the woman in black leather was addressing him. She cocked her head to the confused bartender. “You’ve been standing here ignored for the past ten minutes. I noticed because I was waiting for the guys to suit up to bring Hana to the bar.” She waved her hand. “Come on. Give me your order. I got you.”
“O… Oh. Same thing.”
She nodded. “Ya heard him. And don’t just only pay attention to cute girls, bartender.”
The bartender’s cheeks flushed. “A-Ah, I apologize! I’ll have them ready right away.”
The woman sighed and shook her head, completely ignoring the chatty woman who was making eyes at Yoongi, trying to get near him again. Yoongi pretended not to notice, stepping closer to the short, creepy man. The white mask didn’t move. The woman leaned down a bit because the man was shorter than she was with her height and platform boots.
“Don’t be takin’ nothing with the whiskey now. I’m treatin’ ya,” she chuckled under her breath.
Yoongi noticed the slight satoori. It made her voice a little deep and gruff.
“Shut it.”
She snickered. “Made you talk, Hana.”
The white mask went back to being silent.
She sighed and stood back up turning her attention to Yoongi. “Sorry about my friend here. He doesn’t like talking or people. I’m trying to get him to be more personable. Is it working?”
Yoongi blinked.
“Uh.”
Damn, every time she smiled, he felt a thrill shoot up his spine. White teeth showing, pink tongue peeking out between them.
It just seemed a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.
“I know it’s not working. Can’t say I didn’t try.”
The masked man might as well have been a mannequin with how still he was.
“You’re his manager?” Yoongi found himself asking.
She shrugged. “Kind of? I actually just own the studio space the band records. But I like coming to the gigs sometimes if I can. Good excuse to get a little drunk, eh? Plus, I’m trying to find musicians to rent out the other spaces.”
Fuck.
Was it his lucky day or what?
“I’m looking for a studio space to record my music, actually.”
Her eyebrows raised. “No shit? You wanna talk some business?”
Oh, they talked business to bass and drums thundering the bar.
Later, they talked about some… other things too. What could he say? Yoongi liked a bad bitch. She wore leather, she owned cluster of studio spaces – “well, they ain’t mine, they’re my dad’s, but he’s never here, he’s off gambling and chasing booty, I think” – she gave him a fair price, and she loved to suck dick.
Yoongi didn’t find out about that last bit until later.
Right now, she was clipping the end of a silver chain to the collar around his neck.
It was heavy, probably metal. The collar he was wearing was thick black leather, with a steel ring resting against his collarbones. Yoongi was pretty sure she was doing a number on him. He wore a lot of black, yeah. He liked leather jackets too. But being around her presence was messing with his head and he was pretty sure he was being influenced by her energy. He used to hate his eye shape and his dark circles, but when he saw himself in the mirror with her tangled around him, riding his dick, he found himself thinking he didn’t look so bad after all. He looked good standing with the woman with the white contact lens and the demonic grin.
Maybe he was a little crazy, but everyone was a little crazy. Yoongi wasn’t worried about something like that.
Right now, she licked her teeth with that lithe, pink tongue of hers.
The other end of the chain was connected to the collar around her neck.
“You wanna play?” she drawled.
Fuck, he loved that shit. Her voice got slightly deep and throaty when she spoke in satoori. He wasn’t sure if she noticed it or not. It must be from her father. She mentioned that she had been raised by her dad – “sporadically, he liked to travel and, by travel, I mean gamble and chase ass, although surprisingly he didn’t come back with more kids, so I guess he learned his lesson” – but she was kind of the same way.
Not the gambling bit.
He didn’t really mind it though. She didn’t try to hide anything and he encouraged her to be herself. Plus, no one was getting the treatment he got. Yoongi was pretty sure about that, because when she fucked around, she did it in public. He had to be the one to tell her to take it upstairs and go for the throat.
Alright, not the throat. The dick.
In some way, Yoongi felt that was her way of asking if he approved, because she never took it upstairs and out of his sight unless he gave her the go ahead.
Right now, her tongue extended and wiggled in the air, glossy and slick with her saliva.
He smirked, open-mouthed and with a flick of tongue at the edge of his teeth.
She gripped the chain and yanked him by the neck to her face, crashing that demonic grin to his lips.
Like an injection or a spell, it gave him a rush, the firm leather snapping against his neck, chained to her, both wearing the collars, but she was always in control, always, and he liked it like that, liked the way she traced his lips with her powerful tongue, her saliva his aphrodisiac, before she captured his lips and rolled her body into his lap, skin to skin, moving like a snake, his gasp against her devouring mouth, her bare ass sliding on his thigh, fuck, so sexy, so soft, so bouncy, one hand on his face and another on his shoulder, fingers spread out and tendons flexing.
He liked to say she was the angel that held up her blinding halo with devil horns.
She yanked on the chain and Yoongi sucked in a breath, closing one eye as she licked his cheek, ending with a kiss on his brow. Cold air chilled his wet skin, making him shiver.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”
Pretty sure neither of them believed in a god but it got the point across.
He raised his hand and she smacked his wrist down, pinning it to the bed.
“Nuh uh.”
Yoongi wasn’t really expecting her to let him.
He raised his other hand. It was immediately swatted down onto the bed, her eyebrow cocking.
“Naughty, naughty.”
He cocked an eyebrow back, defying.
She leaned down and snatched the chain in her mouth, tugging on it with teeth and neck, narrowing her eyes. The white contact lens on her left eye gleamed under her lashes. She always wore it except right before sleeping. He once asked her why and she had shrugged.
“Mental security, I guess.”
Now, she growled like an animal.
“Down.”
She looked like she was about to headbutt him. He wouldn’t put it past her.
He lowered himself slowly, her mouth holding the chain taut until he was laying on the bed. She grinned, pleased at his obedience. Yoongi was quite sure that she was probably the closest being to a succubus that he would ever encounter with the violent thrill of arousal she was giving him with those plush lips and white teeth around the silver chain, pink tongue circling around the metal to tease him.
Maybe he was the crazy one for being turned on by it.
She dropped the chain on his chest. He flinched, the wet, heavy metal thudding onto his sternum, right against his pounding heartbeat. She rubbed her thigh against his balls and hardening cock, raising her head, chain following, higher, higher, letting go of his hands, arching her back, tits up, until it was fully taut between his neck and hers, the sides of the collars forcefully digging into his neck and hers. Yoongi did not lift his head from the bed to reduce the tension. Her devilish smile widened. A chain tug-of-war between collar to collar, both of them choking the other.
She lifted her hand and licked her palm, saturating it with saliva.
She reached down and wrapped her long fingers around his stiff length.
Didn’t say he could touch her though, so Yoongi didn’t.
“Think you can last longer than last time?”
He clenched his jaw. “Maybe.”
She pulled harder and he locked his neck and shoulders, clutching the sheets with a sharp gasp, pleasure shooting up his core, firm, strong strokes up and down his cock, fuck, fuck, every damn time, that second of cold as her saliva soaked his skin and then it warmed up fast to hot, slippery ecstasy, hard and getting harder, his pre-cum mixing with her saliva, staring at her hard nipples and juicy hips, knees around one of his thighs, shaking her ass when she noticed him looking, changing the pace, addicted to the feeling of her hands. He could feel the bones and the hard muscle of her grip and, sure, that didn’t sound sexy, but it felt incredible, adding stimulation in that inescapable hold and paired with slickness, choking his cock slightly and he craved every second of it, thighs tense and hard, growling in his throat as he dug his head into the mattress, pulling the chain for all it was worth, lightheaded now, the leather cutting in, probably leaving a mark, locking eyes with mischievous orbs and an impish smirk, the sides of her collar also cutting into the sides of her neck, choking herself as she was choking him while jacking him off.
Black haze threatened the edges of his vision.
He was going to pass out or cum. Yoongi didn’t care which happened first.
“F… Fuck!”
Yoongi snapped his jaw shut and shot up her forearm and down his length, strained groan of her name leaking past his teeth, bolts of pleasure invading his nerves all the way up to his scalp, blossoming into an erotic haze. She snapped her head forward. Oxygen flooded his brain, his jaw going slack with a moan, his eyes rolling back, high so high his whole body shuddered, barely registering her movement, hearing the lewd slurps of her drinking up his cum.
Wet.
Hot.
“Shit!”
Her mouth enveloped his twitching length, burying it deep into her throat, slathering tongue and satisfied hiss, chain clinking against his stomach and hitting his trembling balls, twisting her head so the chain wouldn’t cause any damage to them as she began to suck, flashes of tongue flickering out of the edges of those plush lips, grazing his crotch and scrotum, pointedly staring at him with an arched eyebrow.
She bounced her hips when she noticed him looking, shaking her ass as she sucked his dick.
Yoongi grinned.
His vision was barely focusing, trying to recover from orgasm in the midst of the intoxicating pleasure of her soft and tight mouth, tongue rubbing under the head of his cock, causing it to jerk and swell in the back of her throat and then she thrust it all the way back in there, taking him impossibly deep, sinfully moaning around his cock, vibrating it with lust. He glanced at her hands, fingers spread out and joints locked, tendons flexed, pointed black fingernails clawing into the sheets.
The heat flaring over his abdomen and hips was rising to his limit once more.
Yoongi panted her name, hoarse and breathless, realizing his Daegu satoori was suddenly more prominent in his disheveled state.
“I’m gonna cum–”
She popped her mouth off his cock and he snapped his teeth, snarling.
“You bitch.”
She grinned, wiggling her tongue, thick plops of saliva dripping down and hitting his flinching hips and throbbing cock, the head an angry purple-red from being so roughly stimulated after orgasm. The white contact gleamed alongside the devious glint in her right eye, black pupils blown out, a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.
It didn’t matter who was on top because she knew she was always on top.
To be clear, Yoongi didn’t take shit from anyone without a fight. It got him in trouble sometimes, but this particular brand was trouble was the kind he liked. She gave him a long period of two seconds to roll the condom down before tangling one hand in the metal chain and the other in his black hair, pulling both in opposite directions. He hissed dangerously, plunging his hard cock into the wet, waiting heat, scorched by her roughness and his desire, one of her legs on his shoulder and the other around his waist, smacking their bodies together with violent force.
The tip of her tongue traced her teeth, grinning demonically.
“Come on, you said you were gonna play the game with me, Yoongi,” she chuckled, naughtily mocking him, voice deep and rough from her satoori.
“Let’s see if you can keep up,” he growled in kind, low and gravelly.
She pulled on the collar much harder than his hair, but both were equally arousing, prickling pain on his scalp and circulation cut short once again, brief flashes of oxygen bleeding through with his aggressive thrusts, the excess chain knocking against her collarbones, just another layer of sound along with slapping hips and squelching juices, her velvet walls clenching around him with every descent, not going fast so he could last, burying deep and hitting her hard. She winced, guttural growl at the base of her throat and the side of his lips quirked up.
“Too much?” he taunted.
“I’ll tell you when it’s too much,” she grunted, jerking her hips up and brutally squeezing the head deep inside.
“Fuck…”
He knew she wouldn’t let him do anything she didn’t want, so he kept going, her wrist flicking up with every thrust, leather collar snapping into his skin, thinning his breath to gasps at the stinging pain, the hand in his hair releasing him, messy black strands invading his vision, but he had no time to complain, groaning as her nails dug into his back and dragged up, inflamed hot lines that shot into his system and fed his adrenaline. His fists bunched the sheets, locking his shoulders, clenching his jaw, flexing his neck, and now he was being choked again, consistently this time, oxygen thinning out once more, barely able to keep his eyes open.
Her smile sent thrills up his spine and they split at the base of his head, tendrils of vicious desire numbing all sensations except lust, gluttonous for the pain that nourished more pleasure, greedy for everything she forced him to take, too prideful to ask her to loosen her hold, desperate not to give in to her wrath, usually slothful but now using every fiber of his strength to push himself to the limit, high getting higher knowing that anyone would be envious of how good he got it from that fiendish playful grin and hot delicious body under him, collared together in joined sin.
She let out a low moan, basking in him, feeding his need to satisfy hers.
“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”
He managed to get out half of a breath, staring into those irises, one real, one covered in white.
“Fuck, your voice gets me off every time,” he hissed.
He slammed his hips down and she clamped around his entire length, releasing the chain, both of their heads tipping back, his in the air and hers into the pillows, moans in unison as he shot into the condom and she released onto his twitching length and skin, coating him with slickness. The scent of sex permeated the air, his previous orgasm soaked into the sheets already and hers smearing with it as their hips descended, his throbbing cock pulsed by her flinching walls, her thighs tense around his waist and his hard ones against her ass, making sure to lean forward so he didn’t fall out, savoring every second of their joined bodies.
The hotel room was certainly getting some important use.
Yoongi remembered he had been annoyed when she said he should rent one since the potential gig was rather far away and transportation so late at night was going to be a bitch. He almost didn’t do it, but she rolled her eyes and booked it anyway, triumphant when he sold out the venue. Not a huge venue, but bigger than he had ever performed before.
He still said she had to make it up to him for making him travel farther than he originally wanted.
As usual, Yoongi was not disappointed.
“Housekeeping is gonna be pissed,” she chuckled. “Smells like sex.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“How’s your throat?”
“Pretty sure rapping strains the inside of my throat, not the outside.”
She chuckled. “Now you hurt all over.”
“Good.”
Yoongi closed the distance and kissed that smirk, metal chain sandwiched between their hot, sweaty skin, the steel rings of the black leather collars clinking against each other.
--
masterpost
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the lyrics in the beginning are from hot demon b!tches near u!! by CORPSE ft night lovell
#yoongi x reader#bts smut#yoongi smut#yoongi x you#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x you#min yoongi smut
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you did NOT say “hey send more wanda requests!” but here i am... sending you one jejeje :) how about cute fluffy red eyed jealous wanda? she just wants to hang with reader but EVERY! AVENGER! ALSO! DOES!
Wanda Maximoff x Reader #2
Words: 1,970
Warnings: Jealousy, Cursing
Notes:
Thank you for requesting, and by the way: I appreciate all of the Wanda requests so...hey! Send more Wanda requests. Oh, and this was written during a writers block so it’s not the best but I hope it’s good enough ;( Sorry for spelling mistakes.
————
There are moments during Wanda’s life where she is jealous, believe it or not. No, it doesn’t happen very often anymore; because really she has nothing to long for that she doesn’t already have.
But it happens… So despite her unwillingness to admit it, she’s currently experiencing one of her not so often bouts of jealousy—and it feels like such an ugly word, but it’s how she feels because everyone really just loves you, and she just wants you for herself.
and yeah, okay, someone could make the argument that she ‘has’ you already, and she feels that way, but she knows she doesn’t. Logically.
You could completely decide that you don’t want to be with her anymore, Wanda knows, and if that were something you wanted she wouldn’t even think about stopping you.
She’s not that type of jealous though. She’s not concerned you’ll leave her for someone else, despite how close you and Steve get while you’re discussing something, and despite how many times you fall asleep with Thor on the couch, despite how many times Tony seems to be looking for you, she doesn’t necessarily care about any of it.
As a matter of fact, Wanda would say that she loves the way everyone loves you. She loves how close you are with them...she just wishes it didn’t have to mean so little time for her.
So she’ll train with Clint and watch from the corner of her eye as you train with Natasha, and she’s not jealous about the way that you laugh with her, or the way that she smiles at you, or the way that Natasha pulls you until your faces are inches— okay she really didn’t need to fucking pull you so close-
“Y/N,” Wanda calls, absentmindedly throwing Clint into the cushioned wall with her powers. You don’t pay attention to her, much to Wanda’s dismay, instead you smirk at Natasha and she smirks at you— and really Wanda’s about a second away from throwing Natasha into the wall too— but then Nat headbutts you with just enough force that you’re winded by it, and completely and utterly finishes the fight.
Wanda stops her advancements towards you and starts clapping her hands, feeling utterly ridiculous but hiding it well.
From the way Natasha tilts her head at her perhaps she isn’t hiding it well enough.
You still don’t turn around to notice her though because now you’re locked into conversation with Bruce. And Okay.
She’s able to admit to herself now, that yeah, sometimes her jealousy comes from fear rather than want, but it’s only because anyone would feel threatened by Natasha.
She is also able to admit to herself that this is...harder for her than she previously thought.
————
This continues for a while longer. Wanda looks at you hanging out with the others, tries to get your intention, and gets utterly ignored.
She knows you aren’t doing it on purpose, but it hurts enough that whenever you, or the person you’re hanging out with ignore her she sighs and completely leaves the room.
She waits for you to look for her like she looks for you, she waits for you to be alone, but you never do, and you never are.
It hurts in a way it probably shouldn’t.
———-
Wanda has been pouty lately.
When you ask about it she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest like a disobedient five year old. It’s both amusing and concerning.
Concerning because she’s obviously upset about something, and amusing because she has the cutest pout, and the most dramatic flair about her.
You won’t be dropping this though. “Wan Wan-”
“Okay,” Wanda grimances immediately, “please never call me that again.” She looks horrified when she says it, and your amusement only goes up. Until you see the red glow in her eyes and remember that her powers have been showing the whole day.
This can’t go on.
“Wanda, did I do something wrong?” You ask, clearing your throat in an attempt to start the conversation over.
Wanda momentarily stops glaring at the table so she can glance at you. When she does she seems to sag into her seat at the worried look on your face. This isn’t your fault, she reminds herself, angry that she let her own stupidity affect you. “No,” Wanda sighs, her jaw clenching and unclenching. “No, draga, you haven’t.”
Darling, you remember. That’s what ‘draga’ means. Despite circumstances the term of endearment fills you with butterflies. “Then what’s wrong?”
This time when you ask Wanda answers, looking sheepish and guilty. “I...Y/N I want to spend time with you. Is that…” she pauses, feeling frustrated beyond belief, “is that okay?”
You’re...confused, to say the least. You don’t understand why Wanda would think it isn’t, she’s your girlfriend, you love spending time with her. You had thought that you were already spending time with her before.
“Wanda,” you stutter, eyes wide at the sudden tears in her eyes. When she tries to look away you put a hand on her cheek and force her glowing red eyes to meet yours. “Hey, hey, Wanda—baby—of course it is.”
It’s more than okay.
Wanda nods, looking just as shocked by her tears as you are. “I have no idea why i’m crying,” she says shakily, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know why...I” Wanda pauses, letting out an angry defeated growl, “just- god, I...i’m just so frustrated.”
And she is, she really is. Wanda hadn’t realized how much this has been affecting her. She’s just angry at herself for needing you so much, and angry at the others for taking you away from her all the time, and then angry at herself again for being angry at the others just for wanting to be with you— she’s just angry. And it’s so exhausting.
But you aren’t. You’re the only thing in this life, to Wanda, that isn’t. It means everything, that’s why she needs you. Not all the time. Just sometimes at least.
You, little does Wanda know, need her around just as much, and more than that you need her to be okay, and she isn’t right now. Wanda looks so devastated and helpless, so helpless, that you’re hugging her before you can even register it, like your body moved on it’s own accord.
“Wanda,” you ask, concerned, “do you feel like i’m not already spending a lot of time with you? I mean...we sleep in the same bed.” Wanda hugs you so tightly though, that you wonder if you’ve been imagining the moments you two have spent together.
“No, no you have been,” she says sadly, and with a resignation in her voice that you don’t understand. “I guess...with all of the loss that’s surrounded me, and with the way I still try to distance myself from the others, I'm just really alone without you.”
You freeze completely, hit with an unbearable amount of sadness for the women you love.
Wanda pulls away from you when you tense, looking frantic because she worded that wrong, she hadn’t meant it to sound like she was guilt tripping you. “Obviously it’s not your responsibility to hang out with me all the time, I want you to hang out with your friends, it’s just...I mean...they do get to do stupid mundane things with you more...and I mean I want that too, but only if—”
You put a hand over her mouth, silencing her immediately. “Baby, slow down. Breathe. You’re gonna die if you don’t.”
“Okay…” you start when you realize Wanda has done what you asked and calmed down as much as she’s going to be able to right now, “no, you’re right, now that I think about it. Lately the others have been asking for me a lot and we only ever get a chance to watch a movie at night...we hardly see each other besides that.”
As you say it you’re shocked to find out how true it is. You’ve been so busy with your project with Tony, and training with Natasha, and Thor has been so sad lately that you’ve been trying to help him— and Clint with his sudden want to start cooking, and Peter with his girl problems, and—
And you hadn’t really taken a moment to realize that you miss Wanda too, you haven’t had the time to realize it while you were shuffling around the compound, but Wanda has had time. She’s had all the time in the world.
“Hey,” Wanda says when she notices the guilt on your face, “none of that.”
So you tackle her. Naturally. You tackle her because you love her, and she’s too sad. She looks too sad, she’s always too sad, and she never deserves to feel that way.
Wanda lets out a loud; ‘oof’ and falls back against the couch with you on top of her burying your face in her neck.
She doesn’t understand at all what’s going on, but she’s willing to give you what you want...until you start making weird noises.
“Rummmmm, tssssssss, weeeeeee.”
“Are you okay?” Wanda asks, legitimately concerned.
“Shhh, babe, i’m charging us up. Weeeee-”
“Okay,” Wanda laughs, pushing you off of her. When you yelp and nearly fall off the couch she catches you with her powers and gently lowers you on the ground.
You glare at her the whole way down, a humorous gleam in your eyes. “I’m trying to help babe, what the fuck.”
Wanda simply rolls her eyes at you, releasing another breathy laugh that has your features soften immediately.
“There it is,” you whisper quietly, reaching up to cup her cheek. Wanda smiles into your palm. “I’m sorry, Wanda. I’m realizing that I've missed you desperately too, so we’ll definitely have to make up for the time we weren’t together.”
“You don’t have to,” Wanda sighs, looking down.
“I want to,” you assure, because you do want to. You hadn’t noticed the ache in your heart until it was pointed out to you, but now that it has been...you just want to spend time with Wanda. But…
“But I want you to have other people as well,” you say quietly, “Do you think you could start opening up to the others? They really love you.”
Wanda studies your eyes, thinking. “I have been open with them.”
“You treat them like comrades more than family, even though they obviously love you more than that, and even though you do too.”
It’s something you’ve noticed. Wanda will protect everyone, and be there for them, and she’ll confide in them when necessary, but she’ll also avoid them, and avoid talking with them.
“Okay, I will try.”
The relief you feel at those four words is indescribable. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with Wanda, and the fact that she’s finally ready to listen fills you with joy that has you jumping back into her arms and smothering her with kisses.
“Hey,” Wanda protests, but she’s laughing, “I'll have to take it slow. Maybe i’ll start by finally coming to their movie nights”
“Sounds perfect,” you grin. And it does. Wanda hides in her room during those nights, but now she can be your game night partner. “Oh!” You yelp, jumping off her lap, “we should start training now. No one’s been able to beat Natasha at scramble but if we start training now by Friday we’ll be able to take her down.”
“I really am going to regret this,” Wanda sighs.
“It’s only two all-nighters, don’t be dramatic.”
“WHAT? I am not staying up all night.”
“We’ll see about that.” You whisper under your breath. You don’t think Wanda hears until she throws a couch pillow at your face.
#marvel x reader#marvel x y/n#marvel x female reader#marvel x you#marvel imagine#marvel#wanda x y/n#wanda x you#wanda imagine#wanda x reader#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff#wanda maximov#x fem!reader#fem reader#imagine#ask prompt
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Headcanons - Dream Team Omegaverse 1
I don't really use this blog for much else, so I figured why not take a suggestion from @starrynyxa and start throwing random headcanons here for funsies? They're mostly gonna be for AUs, but maybe every once and a while I'll do some lore ones, we'll see... Anywhodilydo, these are always gonna be in half-word vomit/half-structured form, but if you're really curious about something, feel free to ask me more about it. I'd be happy to discuss them with you, and I might give more put-together info in my responses. With that being said, here are some Omegaverse headcanons for the Dream Team~
To start off, in my own personal interpretation, I see Dream as an Omega with Alpha tendencies, George as an Omega, and Sapnap as an Alpha with Omega tendencies.
None of the Dream Team cares all that much about societal norms surrounding secondary genders, and they actively defy expectations when it comes to them. A lot of young fans actually look up to them because of all the barriers they're breaking for future generations to follow them through.
Despite being an Omega, Dream is voluntarily considered their pack leader by both George and Sapnap. In fact, Sapnap defends Dream maintaining this position anytime someone asks why he isn't in charge instead. He explains without an ounce of hesitance that Dream is simply the best choice to lead them because he knows what he's doing and has that natural-born talent. He's very vocal about not counting Omegas out and arguing that they can be just as good leaders as Alphas because of this and considers anyone who says Dream shouldn't be their leader dumb.
George and Sapnap are always quick to jump into the fray when Dream is unfairly called out for things such as not speaking out against Alphas still taking leadership roles more than Omegas do. In that case, he can't control those types of things, and just because their situation is different doesn't mean everyone else is going to be and they don't have to be either. Some Omegas just like an Alpha being in charge - everyone is different and as long as they're happy with the arrangement, it isn't anyone's business.
Sapnap likes to tease that Patches is actually the alpha of the house, a joke title she actually seems to take seriously. She's very good about reminding them to take care of themselves, always nudging them toward the kitchen when they're hungry or toward bed when they're tired. She also doesn't trust new people in the house nearly as much as the boys do, so she's always lurking to make sure the visitors are treating her pack right.
When it comes to heats, Patches instinctually knows by now when Dream is due for his and you can tell as much by her behavior. She'll start meowing and herding him toward his nest or tugging blankets onto his lap and nudging her way into his arms to be snuggled. During it, she's right by his side the whole time nuzzling his face and will curl up by his side for comfort - sometimes she'll headbutt his hands to reach for water and food when he needs it as well.
Seeing as they now live together, Dream and George's heats have subsequently become synced and they'll go into them at pretty much the same time. While they tend to ride them out alone and in separate nests, sometimes they'll share one during rougher cycles due to sensing their rise in distress. On instinct, they aim to help where they can to make it more tolerable for one another and comfort them through the pain. During this time, they exchange everything from nuzzles, hugs, and even hand-holding if touch is too much to offer relief. They also spend a lot of time sleeping in snuggled a heap so they know one another is there if they wake up delirious or dazed at some point.
To make them all more comfortable during heats, Sapnap has arranged to stay with Punz - an Alpha - or even visit Karl - a Beta - for a while whenever they occur. This gives Dream and George the space they need to ride them out, and it also prevents him from being tempted by anything. None of them think he would ever actually do anything because he has pretty good self-control, but he wants to eliminate any chance of it happening just in case.
Dream and George always take care to air the place out and clean all the blankets and linens from their nests before giving Sapnap gets the okay to come home. They do this mostly so he's not punched in the face by the scent when he walks in the door because the after-heat smell is pretty strong. It's not that he's bothered by the natural scents that linger from day to day, but that pungent smell gives him migraines from time to time with how intense it can be.
Regardless of secondary genders, they own a couch similar to this that they all collectively use for "pack piles," which is basically what they call group cuddle and nap sessions. It's considered a pack nest of sorts with all the blankets and pillows they load it with, and they're not afraid to call it such.
Whenever George and Sapnap travel home to visit their families for holidays or other celebrations, they always take care to pack one of the blankets from their pack pile. The scent of it helps calm them and makes it easier to sleep knowing they're away from their pack, something they've all grown accustomed to by now. George is actually a massive hoodie thief for the same reason, but Dream and Sapnap don't complain about it all too much.
In their absence, Patches is a good pack cat and takes extra special care of Dream for them while they're gone. They all know he gets lonely and misses them deeply when alone in the house - it just doesn't feel right without them. More often than not, he has trouble adjusting the first few days they're gone, so Patches is on mega cuddle duty throughout that time.
In true Dream fashion, he gets antsy and clingy when either is gone for even a handful of hours, which they do tease him about from time to time. They always remind him "We're coming back, Dream, promise." but they recognize it's just because he loves them and wants to make sure they return home safely.
Their first Halloween together, they decide to dress up as Scooby-Doo, Scooby-Dum, and Scooby-Dee with Patches starring as their Scrappy-Doo. This, unfortunately - but not unsurprisingly - leads to some ridiculous discourse from antis because they're wearing collars. They accuse that it's super offensive to members of both secondary genders and blah blah blah, but Dream has none of it. He argues that while collars can be offensive to some, a lot of people think of them as only costumes or accessories. On the other hand, some people really do like wearing them for their intended purpose, and that shouldn't be shamed either. To him, collars don't define who anyone is, and it's stupid to say their choice of wearing them is a way of saying they need to be owned. He's always advocated for people to make their own choices and be their own people regardless of secondary gender norms, so why would he say something like that now?
Following this incident, they decide to be petty and actually wind up getting tags engraved with their logos to put on collars of their signature colors. They wind up wearing them for a future photoshoot with the caption "Style's gone to the dogs - get the limited edition Dream Team Woof-Woof merch before it runs out!" in a campaign where 20% of the profits go to different charities for National Pet Day.
The first design they go with is one sold in each of their stores and varies from person to person in color and the doggy blob face printed on the chest. Each one has paws printed on the inner cuffs so you can have actual sweater paws, the hoods have dog ears printed on them. The second design they go with is sold in the Dream Team store in either black or white with the paws and ears carrying over from the previous design. This one has all three doggy blobs printed on the chest while little bones, balls, and collars are printed down the sleeves.
That's all I have for now, but if I ever come up with more, I will either add them to this post, or I'll make a new one and start making a master post for them all. Either way, thank you for indulging my nonsense thus far, and I hope you enjoyed~
#i need sleep#star's word womit#headcanon#alternate universe#omegaverse#alpha beta omega#dreamwastaken#georgenotfound#sapnap#punz#karl jacobs#patches#omega!dream#omega!george#alpha!sapnap#alpha!punz#beta!karl
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holding you like this
stray kids
13.4k words
female reader insert
Reader x DILF!Hwang Hyunjin
EXPLICIT/NSFW
🖤 warnings: original characters (adult f and child f), single father, unhealthy family dynamics, relationship insecurity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, breeding/impregnation kink 🖤
🚨🚨 the unhealthy family dynamic warning applies to hyunjin and his parents, NOT hyunjin and his child! there are elements of emotional manipulation and emotional neglect of an adult child by his parents. please don’t read if you would find this content triggering!
connect with me! / masterlist
You prepare yourself for a lot of social what-ifs when you go to the grocery store, but a three-year-old almost taking you out with a headbutt to the knee isn’t usually one of them.
On this particular day, you’re standing in the coffee aisle, scanning the rows of beans, trying to pick between a new roast for your French press, or a new flavor for the automatic drip. You’re not having an easy time of it, either. They all look the same to you. And really, is a French vanilla that different from a caramel swirl? Why are some of these so expensive? They’re all just beans, aren’t they?
The coffee dilemma is taking up all of your conscious focus, so you don’t even hear the tiny footsteps clicking against the industrial tile floor. You don’t see the head of bouncing dark hair, barreling toward you. You don’t notice anything until a tiny body slams right into your leg, and little arms wrap around your knees.
You look down in shock, rocking back to steady yourself so that you don’t topple right over. Your phone nearly slips out of your hand, right onto the head of the very small human peering up at you with big round eyes.
It’s a little girl.
She has glitter extensions and a floor-brushing gown, looking royal and in control right down to the tiny Mary Janes on her feet. She doesn’t look confused or perturbed at all, not even bothered by clinging to a stranger like this. Well, that makes one of you.
“Hello,” the little girl says, her voice high but confident. “What’s your name?”
You tell her, and she nods wisely, in a way that looks incredibly bizarre for someone so young.
“Okay. I’m Minnie,” she says.
“Minnie,” your repeat.
The girl nods, her arms still clamped around your knees. “Like the mouse.”
She points at one of the barrettes clipped into her meticulously styled hair. It’s a flat metal cameo pin of Minnie Mouse, smudged with tiny fingerprints as if she touches it often.
“Cool,” you say awkwardly.
You reach down and gently unwind her arm from around you, freeing yourself, and you kneel down so that you’re at her height. She just looks directly at you, and you can feel the judgmental intelligence behind her gaze. It’s kind of scary.
“I’m three and three-quarters,” she tells you proudly.
“Where’s your grown up?” you ask her.
You don’t really think you’d be much help to this child. You certainly don’t want to have to be responsible for her for too long. Where are her parents, or whoever she came here with?
“My grown up?” she mulls it over, “You mean Daddy. He’s lookin’ at juice.”
“Why aren’t you with him?” you ask.
“Ran away,” she shrugs, “If I run, Daddy chases me.”
“Do you think Daddy likes chasing you?” you ask.
You immediately curse yourself inwardly for asking a preschooler a half-sarcastic question like that. You don’t know this kid from Eden, you can’t just mouth off at her. But Minnie is sharp, and she just smiles at you winningly.
“I dunno. Prob’ly not,” she shrugs again, and you marvel at the big attitude in this small person.
“What if he’s worried about you?”
“Then he should find me,” she answers.
And with that, the kid sits down cross-legged on top of your feet, settling her gown neatly around herself. You’re floored. Apparently, you’ve become the shade tree that this kid is gonna sit under until her poor father finds her. Are all little kids this weird?
You’re not sure what to do. If you move, if you take her and go searching, you could spend all day missing her father at every turn. That means you should probably just stay here and wait for her dad to come to you. At least this way you know the kid’s safe and not running around to meet strangers more dangerous than you.
You get back to your coffee dilemma, as Minnie just sits primly on your feet. It’s not like you could walk away without dislodging her, anyway. And as you pick out a package of coarse-ground beans for your French press, you hear it.
“Minnie!”
An exasperated voice, from the end of the aisle. You turn toward the sound, and the person that you see takes your breath away.
It’s a man, tall and slim, long legs in wide-legged denim. His hair is shoulder-length and blonde, the top half of it held back in a small ponytail at the crown of his head. His face is equal parts angry and relieved, dark thick brows furrowing. The guy is incredibly, distractingly beautiful. You kind of can’t believe it.
“Daddy,” Minnie pipes up, as if confirming it to you.
She leans back against your shins like you’re her personal throne. You look down at her, and then back up at the man as he approaches, dragging a half-full shopping cart behind him.
“I am so sorry,” the man is saying, “She has a mind of her own and sometimes-”
“I made a friend!” Minnie interrupts her father.
The man leans down and scoops his daughter off your feet, plunking her into the basket of his shopping cart.
“You’re in jail, princess,” he tells her curtly.
“I’ll get out,” she replies.
You’re sure that your jaw is actually hanging open several inches as the man turns back to you to continue his rambling apology.
“I really am sorry, um…” he pauses.
“(Y/N),” you fill in for him.
“Right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you dismiss, “She just wanted to talk. And I wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost. More lost.”
The man grins at you sheepishly. “I’m Hyunjin, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say.
“I like her,” Minnie calls from her shopping-cart jail cell, “She’s funny.”
“That’s a high honor,” Hyunjin tells you soberly.
“I’m glad to finally hear that someone thinks I’m funny,” you say.
Hyunjin laughs. He has a nice laugh, sharper and shriller than you would have thought, but full and honest. He looks just like Minnie when he smiles. You’re thoroughly charmed.
“Well,” you say, tugging yourself back to reality, “I have some more shopping to do, so…”
“We’re friends now!” Minnie announces.
Hyunjin glances at his daughter. “You two are friends now?”
“Yes!” the girl insists.
Hyunjin returns his gaze to you. “I guess you’re friends now. Any chance you’re up to see us again sometime?”
“See you again?” you repeat, nonplussed.
“Just for coffee, maybe. A playdate?” Hyunjin’s grin is teasing.
“Doesn’t she have other friends?” you ask, “Friends who are more…three years old?”
“Oh, sure. but Min is an equal-opportunity befriender,” Hyunjin says, “She likes everyone.”
You really don’t know what to make of this precocious little girl who’s just declared you her new friend and her very indulgent but admittedly very attractive father. You might consider that he was hitting on you, except that he’s clearly just bending to the will of his very willful child, and that he’s way, way, way out of your league.
“Sure,” you say, finally.
“Cool.”
Hyunjin pulls out his phone and offers it to you with the keypad open. You enter your number and call yourself, and you save each other’s data into your phones. ‘Hyunjin (Minnie’s Dad)’ goes in as your newest contact.
“We’ll text you to make plans!” Hyunjin promises, as he wheels his cart away.
“See you later!” Minnie calls.
She waves furiously at you until the two of them round the corner to the left, toward the checkout counters. You’re left standing there with your package of coffee and butterflies in your stomach.
Just like that, you have a new friend.
---------------
When you do eventually get a text from the number saved as ‘Hyunjin (Minnie’s Dad),’ it’s abundantly clear which of the two is doing the texting.
‘hello!!!!!!’
‘yo u have to wear’
‘princess dress!!!!!’
It’s a Thursday afternoon, and you’re at work, sat at your desk overlooking the production floor. Your lunch is just about to end, the boys in assembly below are already getting back to it, and you need to make this quick before your next meeting.
Hyunjin must have helped with the spelling, but that is definitely a message direct from Minnie. You’re debating how exactly to respond to this message, when a call comes in, instead. You answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi!” The voice on the other end is unmistakable.
“Hi, Minnie,” you say patiently.
“Did you get my text?”
“Of course,” you answer.
“Good. Wear your princess dress,” she says decisively. “Talk to Daddy now.”
The phone clatters loudly like it’s been dropped right on the floor, and you hear a shout in the background. You wince at the noise, but keep the phone pressed to your ear until Hyunjin’s voice replaces his daughter’s.
“Hey, sorry,” he says, “She decided that PJ Masks are more important than this phone call that she DEMANDED I make to invite you for coffee on Saturday.”
“Coffee, huh?” you repeat.
“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Hyunjin says.
You can hear real hesitation in his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him, “No, no, I think it’s cute. It’s okay.”
“She just never takes to strangers this fast,” Hyunjin explains, and you can’t quite fathom why that piece of knowledge makes your stomach swoop. “I wanna encourage her to see the world as kind of…safe and fun, y’know? Is that stupid? Like, she shouldn’t just run around with strangers, but she shouldn’t be afraid of the world, either.”
“That makes sense,” you assure him.
“We had a talk about it, I think she understands the difference.”
He’s kind of rambling at you. You wonder how often Hyunjin gets a chance to talk parenting with someone.
“No, really, I understand,” you say, “I’d love to do coffee.”
“Great,” he says, “You can meet us at this café…I’ll send you the address. It’s called Mama Dining.”
You’ve never heard of it, but you trust Minnie’s taste. Hyunjin, you can’t say for sure. But you trust that little girl with more blind conviction than is probably necessary.
“Okay, see you then,” you say.
“Cool.” You can hear Hyunjin’s smile in his voice. “Bye, (Y/N).”
“Bye!” comes Minnie’s voice, far away but loud, and you know that she must be screaming as loud as she can.
You laugh, and you hang up.
---------------
Mama Dining is a small glass-front piece of realty across from a folk medicine shop and underneath a square brick apartment building, a few metro stops away from the area where you live. It’s so stuffed full of potted plants and flowers in vases that there’s barely any surface area for anything else, but it’s clean and bright inside. The tables are mismatched with their chairs, and the whole place smells like coffee and sharp herbs and fresh bread.
It’s homey, that’s the word for it. Cozy, and homey.
You’d taken your pint-sized new friend’s advice to the letter, busting out one of the nice dresses that you save for special occasions. The last time you wore it was to a coworker’s wedding; it’s light and floaty and floral, a long floor-length skirt over a tighter inner slip. It’s the closest thing you have to a princess dress. But it’ll have to do.
You check your reflection in the glass as you pull the door open, bells tinkling above your head. As soon as you step into the café, a little voice shrieks at you.
“YES!”
Minnie is sitting at a table in the corner, in a different gown, her hair in an elaborate braided style, half-up and half-down. She’s looking at you with the utmost approval, and even though she’s a three-year-old, you still feel proud that you’re passing her test.
“A princess dress,” she says, satisfied.
“I tried my best,” you say.
You give a silly little spin on the spot, so that your skirt stands out for her, and behind you, someone laughs. You freeze, cheeks heating up.
“You look nice.”
It’s Hyunjin, because of course it is. You turn around to see him in casual jeans and a long sleeve tee, an apron tied around his waist. His hair is pulled back again, off his face. He’s gorgeous. But it kind of looks like…
“Do you work here?” you ask.
Hyunjin nods. “Easiest place to meet up is here, while I’m on shift. Hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine,” you assure him.
“I’ll get you a coffee,” he says, “What do you like?”
You tell him your regular order, and he heads to the espresso machine to start it up.
“Oh,” he calls, over the sound of the grinder, “And if Judy comes in while you’re here, I’m sorry in advance.”
Judy? Your stomach does an awkward flip at the idea of him inviting you here if he has a girlfriend, or a wife. You don’t think you’ve seen a wedding ring on him, but…
Oh, well. Nothing you can do, at this point. You’re here for the kid, anyway, aren’t you?
You go over to the table where Minnie has set up camp, propped in a booster seat to reach the tabletop. She has a coloring book and a pack of glitter crayons in front of her, and you pull up the second chair to join her. Minnie stares at you for second, her cute upturned eyes so much like her father’s, and then she opens up her coloring book, flipping the pages as carefully as she can.
When she finds what she wants, she sets the book down and rips the page out. It’s a picture of a teacup and saucer on a table, with a pitcher of flowers behind it.
“This is yours,” she says, with the utmost seriousness.
“Okay,” you say, matching her tone, “Can I use your crayons? I didn’t bring mine.”
You kind of expect a kid as serious and assertive as her to be careful about her possessions, but Minnie just upends the crayon box onto the table.
“Yep,” she says.
She grabs a lilac color and dives right into her own coloring page: a dressing table covered in cosmetics and trinkets. You select a red crayon from the pile and join her, filling in the delicate pattern on your teacup.
You can’t explain why it doesn’t feel like babysitting, but it doesn’t. It feels more like…coexisting. Like this preschooler really is just happy to have your company.
What a weird kid.
Hyunjin comes over after a moment with your coffee. The café is empty aside from you three, so he sits down at the table with you, placing the cup with your drink down beside the precarious pile of crayons.
“Daddy can’t color,” the kid tells you.
“Really?” you ask, looking up at Hyunjin wryly.
Hyunjin raises his hands as if in defeat, “My talents lie in performing arts, not studio arts. Unlike this renaissance child, who can do it all.”
It’s obvious that Hyunjin adores his daughter. You can see it in his eyes as he watches her scrub her crayons across the picture, in the way he talks about her. You’re not around kids a lot, but you can tell that this little girl has a lot of love in her life. That’s probably why she’s so bold; outgoing, kind, and well-adjusted kids are usually well-loved kids.
You smile to yourself as you keep coloring, switching the red for a grey. And after a while, you’re aware of Hyunjin’s watching gaze focused not on his daughter, but on you.
Embarrassed by the attention, you look up and meet his eye. He’s just watching you, with a lopsided smile that shows all of his teeth and crinkly smiling eyes that emphasize the little mole under his bottom eyelid on one side.
“What?” you ask.
He gives himself a little shake.
“Sorry,” he says.
It seems like all he does is apologize to you when he’s done nothing wrong at all.
“I was just thinking, it’s really sweet that you’re here,” he admits.
“Sweet?” you ask.
He tilts his head. “Yeah. How many people do you know who would come across town just to hang out with a little kid?”
You take a sip of the coffee. It’s perfect. Maybe the best you’ve ever had. Is he even real?
“Well, she’s like the coolest person I’ve ever met,” you say, “Regardless of age.”
“Yeah, she is,” Hyunjin says fondly.
“I’m cool,” Minnie agrees.
The doors of the café open softly, and you and Hyunjin turn around simultaneously to see a young couple, maybe college students, seating themselves and talking softly. Hyunjin excuses himself to go help them, and you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.
What are you even doing here?
Did you agree to come on this very strange playdate because you were so taken by a strange child that you felt the need to keep a promise you made to her? Or, on some level, did you just want to see Hyunjin again? Neither answer is particularly good. Or sane.
“You and Daddy can be friends, too.”
Your head snaps up when you realize you’d being addressed, and you regard Minnie. “What?”
“You and Daddy can be friends. You’re my friend, but Daddy, too.”
You hum, as if you’re really puzzling it over, when in reality you’re about to collapse from the embarrassment of this child inadvertently setting you up with her dad. Or maybe advertently. You have no idea how smart she actually is.
“How does it look?” you ask instead, holding up your drawing.
Minnie puts down her crayon and scrutinizes your picture as if she’s a museum collections pro scouting for art.
“Do pink flowers,” she says eventually, and she returns to her own drawing with the same intensity.
“Good idea,” you say.
You pick out a rosy pink color and try to will all your nerves about Hyunjin away. He’s just a new friend. The father of you new littlest friend. You can’t make this weird just because he’s good-looking. Hyunjin himself has vanished into the back kitchen, tucked away to prepare something. You can hear a stove going, cutlery clattering.
The café door opens again as you’re idly listening to the sounds of the kitchen. This time, it’s a middle-aged woman with a long black ponytail and a practical, motherly outfit. She greets the young couple cheerfully, and then she sets her eyes on you.
“My Min!” the lady coos, and Minnie looks up from her drawing.
“Hi. I’m coloring.”
“I can see that,” the lady says, coming up closer to lean on the table next to your casually, “And who is this?”
“(Y/N),” Minnie answers.
“I see.”
The woman is smiling, but her eyes are regarding you coolly, as if she’s sizing you up. You just offer her a nervous smile, unsure who this is or why she knows the kid.
Hyunjin emerges from the kitchen then, timing perfect, a plate holding a large grilled sandwich in hand.
“Oh, hey, Judy,” he says, on his way past to give the couple their lunch.
Judy? This is the Judy that he mentioned earlier? Not to be ageist, you think, but she seems too old to be Hyunjin’s partner. But romantic relationship or not, you can understand why he apologized on her behalf; she’s already giving you incredibly intense vibes.
“(Y/N)’s picture goes on the wall with mine, okay, Judy?” Minnie says suddenly.
“Sounds like a plan,” Judy agrees, “Now, is someone going to tell me who this young lady is?”
Moving very quickly and pretending that he’s not, Hyunjin rejoins the three of you over in your corner, setting a comforting hand on Judy’s shoulder. You can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it as a means of subtly holding her back.
“Min made friends with her at the store the other day after one of her famous mad dashes,” Hyunjin says. “And we figured the polite thing to do after that would be to invite her for a cup of coffee.”
“I see,” Judy says.
Her face softens at Hyunjin’s words, even though she’s still looking you over quizzically, like she can’t decide how to feel about you being there.
“Well, welcome,” she says, finally, “I’m Judy. This is my café.”
She extends her hand to shake, and you take it. Her hand is slim and pretty, heavy with a few jeweled rings and slightly roughened on the fingertips from hard work.
“She takes care of us,” Minnie pipes up.
“I try to,” Judy agrees. “They need all the help they can get.”
“I resent that!” Hyunjin says.
“But really, I just use this pretty face to attract customers,” Judy continues, waving a hand at Hyunjin.
He squawks his outrage, and you can’t help the smile that creeps over your face.
“The teens see this face and they come right in. It’s like magic,” Judy says, as if she’s being purposefully oblivious to how much she’s embarrassing him.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” you say.
And you mean it, too. Hyunjin obviously has an unconventional support system going on, with this woman who he introduced by her first name and not by her relation to him. It leads you to believe they’re not blood-related or anything. It doesn’t really matter, though. She seems nice, if not a little protective.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Judy says, with such heavy finality that you feel as though you’ve just cleared a hurdle.
And from the way Hyunjin’s whole body perks up at her words, maybe you have. Why do you get the feeling that this was the equivalent of a meeting-the-parents moment?
As quickly as the atmosphere had heightened, it settles back to the lazy calm it was before. Judy pats Minnie’s head fondly and disappears into the back of the café, not to reappear. Hyunjin returns to his work, and you take back up the task of neatly filling in the coloring page, careful not to upstage your tiny host and her not-quite-developed motor skills.
It’s a slow afternoon.
The young couple eats their lunch across the room, adding only a quiet hum of activity to your surroundings. Minnie tells you stories while you work, regaling you with the deep inner workings of preschooler life.
“Their names are Sage and Ginger!” she’s saying happily.
You haven’t been listening closely enough, clearly, because you’re stumped. “Whose names?”
“The babies!”
“What babies?”
“From Blue’s Clues & You,” she huffs.
Oh. You vaguely remember the original Blue’s Clues show, but you can’t say you know exactly what she’s talking about. Is she talking about…the sentient salt and pepper shakers? Do they have babies? Why do they have babies?!
“That’s cool,” you say, with level enthusiasm.
Minnie looks at you flatly, but accepts your words with a nod. “They’re cute. So little!”
It goes on like that, bits of kids’ programming trivia and input on your crayon color choices. The couple leaves, and you can see Hyunjin zeroing back in on you as he lets them out with a wave and a call to come back soon.
“How’s it going?” he asks.
You pick up your drawing, for him to see. You’ve been finished with it for a while now (it’s a children’s coloring book, so it’s not all that intricate) but you don’t want to appear unengaged, so you’ve been going over your lines and blurring out the crayon marks. His eyes crinkle up with joy at the sight of it.
“Done!” Minnie announces.
She brandishes her own drawing, too, and Hyunjin beams at the two of you with equal pride.
“Can I put these up?” he asks.
“Together,” says Minnie.
“You got it.”
He takes both rough-edged pages and whisks them away to the counter. Behind the register, on an expanse of wall, there’s a collection of doodles and coloring pages that you hadn’t noticed when you walked in. They must all be Minnie’s; the bold coloring strokes are all the same, her heavy hand immortalized in wax and marker and glitter pen.
Hyunjin tacks up the pictures side by side on the wall.
It’s the tiniest gesture in the world, really. You can’t even count how many scraps of paper, how many school notebooks and work memos that you’ve scribbled on over the course of your life. You’ve colored kids’ menus at restaurants, done detailed adult coloring books at mixers. Somehow, this one ragged coloring page tacked to the wall of a café seems like a turning point in your life.
You wonder when you got so sentimental. It’s silly, but it’s there; warm happiness in your chest.
When Minnie begins to wilt, saying in not so many words that she’s getting tired, you know that your playdate time is coming to an end. It’s only been an hour and a half, maybe two, but that’s an awful long time to keep such a young kid occupied on one activity. You’re proud of yourself, honestly.
“She’ll go down for a nap soon, before dinner,” Hyunjin tells you softly, “You can head out if you want. I don’t wanna monopolize your day.”
“I think I will,” you agree.
It’s been a nice time, but you’re not one to overstay your welcome.
You say goodbye to Minnie, who insists on giving you another crushing full-body hug, and you make it all the way to the door before you realize Hyunjin is following you.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Walking you out,” he replies.
“I’m just going to my subway stop.”
“Then let me walk you to it,” he says.
You struggle to hold back your smile at his easy grace. “Okay, sure.”
The two of you set out into the afternoon, side by side, for the short walk from this inner part of the neighborhood to the metro stop that will take you back home. The breeze tugs at your skirt and ruffles Hyunjin’s apron, and you can’t help but sneak sidelong peeks at him as you walk.
“I hope Judy didn’t scare you too much,” he says.
“She’s intense. But I can tell that it’s out of love,” you reply.
He laughs at that, and you continue your slow meander down the unlined streets.
“She’s like an adoptive mom to me,” Hyunjin tells you. “I’m lucky to have her.”
“Oh,” you say, curious but knowing that you shouldn’t ask.
The two of you walk a while longer in your quiet bubble, but eventually, Hyunjin sighs.
“I don’t talk to my parents,” he says, “It’s not that crazy. Just how it is.”
“You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want, I understand.”
“And now I’m oversharing. Sorry,” he winces.
You shake your head, “It’s not a bother, I just won’t pry.”
Hyunjin considers this, and nods. “It’s just me and Min, so Judy’s been a livesaver. Mom and auntie and grandma all in one.”
Just him and Min, which means no wife and no serious girlfriend. That makes you feel a bit better. You’d hate to get in the way of a serious relationship, even indirectly. Minnie is a nice kid, and you like her, but you’re not her nanny or her babysitter or anything. You’d hate to be that kind of person, shoving yourself into a family where you have no business being.
“But…I wanted to know…would you wanna hang out again?” Hyunjin asks.
You laugh gently. “For Min? I’d walk into traffic. Yes, I’ll hang out again.”
“Not with Min,” Hyunjin says, voice soft and hesitant. “With me.”
The word that falls out of your mouth before you can stop it is, “Why?”
Hyunjin snorts, and then breaks out laughing, harder than you’ve ever heard him laugh.
“Because I think you’re cool?” he says eventually. “You’re cute and you like my kid, which is more than I can say about ninety percent of the people I meet.”
This was not part of the plan. Not that you had a plan, but come on. You were here to hang out with a super weird toddler, to entertain a precocious little girl because it’s cute and fun, not to be asked out by her dad. Her gorgeous dad, who’s so out of your league that it makes your head spin.
You spare a thought to wonder if he’s playing a prank on you.
“Unless…” Hyunjin draws away from you (when did he get so close?), “Unless you’re already seeing someone? God, I didn’t even think – I’m sorry, I just-”
“No, you cut in quickly, “No, I’m not-”
“Am I being weird? I’m being weird,” he laughs, and he almost sounds…nervous?
“You’re not being weird,” you assure him, “You just surprised me. I didn’t think…”
“Then you’ll go out with me?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say, surprising yourself, “Yeah. I will.”
Hyunjin’s smile is the fucking sun coming up. It warms you right down to your toes.
“I’ll call you,” he promises, “I’ll call and we can make plans.”
“Okay,” you agree.
The dimly-glowing sign marking the subway entrance looms ahead, and Hyunjin falls back, as you approach the down escalator.
“I’ll call you!” he says, again.
You wave as you go down the escalator, and once he’s out of sight, you practically melt. You have no idea why life is throwing you this curveball, but you’re not complaining.
---------------
True to form, it’s Minnie who calls you some days later. Not Hyunjin, the adult who presumably has control over the phone and has to dial the call. No, it’s the toddler whose voice filters over the line, the toddler who is undeniably and ultimately in control of her father’s whole world.
“Hi, (Y/N)!”
“Are you supposed to be making calls?” you tease.
“It’s okay, I have a mission,” she tells you.
“A secret mission?”
“Maybe…” Minnie’s voice pulls away from the phone, and you can hear her shout, “Daddy! Is it a secret mission?!”
Hyunjin’s voice calls something in reply, and then Minnie returns.
“Yeah, a secret mission,” she says.
“What’s your mission?”
“We gotta know, do you like Japan food or Italy food better?”
“Hmmm,” you think out loud, “I think I just like food.”
“Me too,” Minnie agrees, “I just like food.”
There’s another shout from Hyunjin that you can’t make out.
“Daddy says it’s gonna be a s’prise, then,” Minnie reports.
“Surprises are fun,” you say.
“It’s okay?” she asks.
“It’s okay,” you confirm.
“Okay! I gotta go. Talk to you later!”
Minnie hangs up, and you burst out laughing so hard that tears pool at the corners of your eyes. She manages to make it sound like she has a high-powered meeting that you’re keeping her from. How does she hide all of that thirty-five-year-old boss energy in her cute little self?
But more important than the absurd circumstance of the call is the outcome. You’re going on a real date. With Hyunjin. You try to pretend that a whole swarm of butterflies haven’t hatched in your gut.
You have a date with Hyunjin.
---------------
The date goes well.
It goes incredibly well, in fact. If you thought Hyunjin was pretty and charming when he was in more domestic setting, with his kid and at his job, that was nothing compared to fully-focused-grownup Hyunjin on a date.
He dresses well, he’s funny and he’s gentle, he nearly cries because the dish you order to share is too spicy for him. He’s got all the puppylike charm of the young man that he is, and this underlying tired seriousness of the doting single father that he is.
You argue with him until he lets you split the bill for the meal, and he gives you a gentle kiss on the lips when he leaves you at your subway stop. It’s like a fairytale.
So you go out again, and again, and again, still. Sometimes it’s barbeque in your neighborhood, at an outdoor restaurant with great side dishes handmade by the older couple who own the place. Sometimes it’s just coffee and a long chat at a 24-hour café. You haven’t been to his home, yet, and he hasn’t been to yours, but it’s refreshing to just take things slowly with him, when the rest of life moves so fast.
Underneath the fun of being with Hyunjin, though, is the doubt.
Everything you see makes you more and more certain that he’s not a real person. He’s a dating sim come to life. He’s so good-looking that teenage girls stop to whisper and giggle about him, and passing aunties give him bold compliments. Dogs like him, service staff like him, little kids like him. And you understand it; you like him tremendously.
You’re not entirely sure why he likes you, though. Compared to him, you’re kind of reserved, kind of plain. It’s not that you don’t like yourself, but you’re a cottage to Hyunjin’s skyscraper, a woodwick candle to his disco ball. Just different realms entirely.
It doesn’t matter, you suppose, because regardless of his motivation or your understanding, you’re spending more and more time with Hyunjin, and Minnie.
You learn that it’s Hyunjin who does her hair every day, creating looks with pins and braids and tiny ponytails. He grew out his own hair to the length it is now to practice on, he tells you one day. You learn that Minnie only likes crunchy vegetables, raw carrots and the stems of lettuce, and that she can inexplicably eat much spicier food that her father can.
You’re comfortable being part of the mundane. But Hyunjin seems to have different aspirations for the two of you, in your casual and fluid relationship, still without titles or formalities.
“I want to take you somewhere nice.”
You glance up from your laptop, blinking to get the fuzziness out of your vision at you look at Hyunjin where he leans over the prep counter. It’s a weekend, but you have a pile of leftover work to get through before Monday, so you’ve set up camp at the café for the afternoon. Hyunjin is on shift, and he’s been slinging you snacks and coffees between customers. It’s been just the two of you, work obligations notwithstanding, and it’s been…domestic.
“This isn’t nice enough?” you quip.
“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes, “Like a real date.”
“Oh, so now you’re saying the first half dozen dates weren’t real?”
Hyunjin sticks out his thick lower lip in a pout. “What happened to the shy awkward person I met at the store? Bring her back, please, this (Y/N) is mean to me!”
You laugh. “Where did you want to go?”
“There’s this place I haven’t been to in years. It’s really nice, my aunt used to take us back when family outings were more my thing,” he says.
“Sounds okay,” you decide.
“You’d have to dress up,” he warns, “Like, for real. I’ll have to dig out a suit.”
“That’s fine.”
You turn your attention back to your laptop, trying to hide your flustered face at the idea of Hyunjin cleaning up extra nice for you, Hyunjin in a fitted suit and shined shoes. He might notice it anyway, though, if the smile that lights up his face as he turns back to the kitchen is any hint.
---------------
It’s decided that Hyunjin will pick you up from work and drive the two of you to your first fancy date. So that morning, you hitched a ride with a coworker so as not to strand your car at the office overnight, carrying your change of clothes in a bag. The downside of that was having to explain to your coworker what necessitated the change, and your team quickly found out that you have a date. The teasing hasn’t stopped all day, good-natured ribbing all during your shift, about stoic, shy supervisor (Y/N) going on a hot date with a mystery man.
You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your office’s nice bathroom, the one reserved for visitors who can’t pee with the staff. The one with potpourri on the counters and immaculate tile floors. You’ve gone for a menswear look yourself, wide-legged slacks and a silky blouse, and heels. Hyunjin’s already seen you in a nice dress, you figure, and besides, clinging to the businesswear that you already don at work gives you just a bit more nerve.
Somehow, a date at a nice restaurant that holds some sentimental value for him is more serious than anything you’ve ever done, more intimate than splitting cakes at the café and watching Minnie force the other kids to take turns on the slide at the playground.
You adjust your French tuck just a bit, make sure that your necklace hangs neatly, and deem yourself as good as you’re gonna get. You walk out of the bathroom, bag now holding your work clothes tucked under your arm, only to see a whole group of your production team boys waiting for you.
The company where you work is a decently large tech manufacturing plant, and as a production manager, you oversee a team of techs and assembly workers who tend to be on the younger side, and much more often are young men close to your age. They’re all nice boys who you’re quite close to, but they’ve already been on your case all day. Several of them are right here in the hall, now, ready to make fun of you the way that annoying little brothers are meant to do.
“Jeez, (Y/N), out for blood,” says Taehyun, his silica filter mask hanging off one ear.
“Don’t be gross,” you say, rolling your eyes.
“It’s true, you’re really going all out for this date, huh?” adds Jeongin.
“Quit it before I vom and then report you all to HR,” you say.
“Oh, come on,” says Taehyun, “I’ve worked for you for like two years and I’ve never seen you have fun on purpose before.”
“That can’t be true,” you argue, walking toward the front of the building with your little line of assembly-boy ducklings following behind.
“On your birthday, you asked us to get you a firm handshake and a new set of pages for your planner,” Jeongin deadpans.
“You’re Ron Swanson with tits,” Jaemin says.
“Charming,” you glance at him, and he shrugs.
“It’s true.”
Car headlights shine in the picture windows that span the front of your building, and you can make out a small red car sitting in the visitor’s parking right by the door.
“Please don’t embarrass me,” you implore the boys, as you haul open the heavy glass door to let yourself out.
“We would never do that,” Jeongin says, defensive.
“Maybe we should talk to your date, though,” Jaemin suggests, “Rough him up a little.”
“Yeah, please don’t ever do that,” you say, “I’m leaving now.”
The driver’s side window is rolled down, and you can see Hyunjin leaning out, waving to you. You walk around to the passenger’s side of the car as fast as you can, giving your stupid underlings as little time as possible to ruin things.
You slide into the seat and slam the door behind you right as you hear one of the boys yell, “GET HER HOME SAFE. BY TEN.”
“Oh my God, go, drive away,” you groan.
“Who are they?” Hyunjin asks, amused, as he backs out of the parking spot.
“They work for me,” you say. “They wanna intimidate you, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“They must really like you,” he says.
“No, they just really like being annoying.”
Hyunjin laughs, glancing at you as he maneuvers onto the main road.
“You look really great,” he says, sounding a little bit shy.
“Thanks.”
“The restaurant isn’t far,” Hyunjin says, “But I wanted to look cool and drive you.”
“I already think you’re cool,” you tease.
“Well if you’d told me that before, we could have called a cab,” he says.
“Nah, I wanted to see your car,” you say, turning around in your seat to get a full view of the interior, “Big pink carseat and all.”
“Min’s constantly telling me to just get a pink car to match,” Hyunjin says, “I don’t know if I could pull that off, though.”
“With your good looks and princess hair? I think you could.”
“Good to know. Next car, pink,” he says.
Hyunjin wasn’t lying about the restaurant being close by, because the whole drive is less than fifteen minutes. You’ve barely relaxed when he pulls up to the street parking outside a modest building with a pretty marquee and rough brick siding.
“This is it?” you ask, peeking out at the building.
“Yep.”
You scrutinize the restaurant as two of you get out of the car, and you can tell instantly that it’s an upscale place. Everything from the valet in front to the fabric of the curtains reeks of steaks that cost a paycheck and truffles in every possible dish. You’re kind of excited for it.
The maître-d greets you warmly, and brings you to a table against the window, with a view into a small back garden full of lanterns and lit trellises. The table itself is a delicate wooden thing, with full-course silverware and origami napkins. Candles dance on the tabletop, a single red rose in a vase brightening the whites and silvers of it all.
Hyunjin must know a thing or two about romance, because you’re properly wowed. It’s so stereotypically wonderful, it makes for a great sixth-or-seventh date. You’ve known him long enough that you know he’s not trying to blindly impress you, but just to treat you.
You wonder what kind of family he has, that they would bring him to a place like this as a kid or a teenager.
When the waitress, a pretty young woman in server’s blacks, comes over, the two of you order from the set menu and argue only a little about what dishes to taste and what wine to have.
“They’re barely Brussels sprouts,” you’re saying, “They’re covered in oil and bacon and shit.”
“They’re green vegetables,” he counters.
“They’re gourmet, don’t be a baby.”
Starters come and quickly disappear.
The main course comes, and by this point, you’re a glass or so of wine deep, and Hyunjin is only looking more and more handsome, as your stomach starts to be comfortably filled and the drinks warm you up from the inside.
Hyunjin’s gazing at you between bites of his dinner, expression so soft that you wonder if he’s gonna lean right across the table to kiss you. It’s tender, it’s lovely, and it’s unlike any other date you’ve ever had.
But a woman’s shrill, furious voice shatters the entire atmosphere with a single sharpened word.
“Hyunjin?!”
It’s almost comical, the way Hyunjin freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth, eyes wide and startled. It’s only almost comical, because this emotion seems to be very real fear on his part. He keeps his eyes on his plate, but you look toward the sound.
There’s a woman approaching your table, thin and elegant and beautiful. She’s got only the faintest age lines on her perfectly made-up face, and her clothes are designer, a plum-colored dress that brushes her knees and a handbag worth more than your whole closet. She doesn’t even spare you a glance, zeroing in on Hyunjin as she comes to stand right beside the table, puffed up in self-righteous anger like a provoked bird.
“Hwang Hyunjin!” she barks.
Hyunjin turns his head so slowly that you wonder if he’s even moving at all, until finally he’s looking at her.
“Of all the places – what on EARTH are you doing?!” she asks him, tone stiff and angry.
It’s the kind of tone that you can imagine her using to yell at waitstaff, or berate the hotel bellhop. She’s that kind of wealthy, you can just tell. You’ve been dodging people like this your whole adult life, working your way up in the tech field, littered with its new and old money. You glance at Hyunjin, but the urgency in his face tells you to hold your tongue.
“I’m eating,” he says finally.
“Your aunt told me you were still in the city,” she says, “I can’t IMAGINE what you’ve been up to that you haven’t had time to even call, the nerve-”
“Mother,” Hyunjin says evenly, “You’re interrupting a nice time.
Mother. This is Hyunjin’s mother?
As if she’s just noticed that you’re there, she rounds on you. “And who is this?”
The disgust in her voice makes your stomach twist unpleasantly. It’s been a long while since someone has been so openly dismissive of you. Not since you were a student, you think, but God does it hurt.
“This is my date,” Hyunjin answers.
His words are clipped, like he really doesn’t want to say more.
“Well, obviously,” his mother sniffs, condescending, “What is her NAME?”
“You don’t get to know that,” Hyunjin says.
You know that Hyunjin is distant with his parents. He’s mentioned that they don’t talk anymore, and that they don’t really know his daughter at all. But it speaks volumes that he doesn’t even want his mother to know your name.
“And where did you meet this shining example of gilt wood pretending to be gold?” she asks, “The community center? The food bank?”
“There’s no need to be mean,” Hyunjin says, much more calmly than you would be able to, “We’re trying to have dinner. You should leave.”
“I’ve finished my meal. I’m on my way out,” his mother says haughtily, “But I saw you and I needed to come say something.
“No, don’t let us keep you,” Hyunjin says, gesturing toward the exit with his still-full fork.
“Hyunjin, when are you going to give up this ridiculous act and come back to make things right?” she asks, and though the tone is sincere, there’s no warmth behind it.
“Never,” he replies, “Things are just the way I want them.”
This woman, in her all finery and dignified air, stamps her foot on the ground like a child having a tantrum.
“You’re making a mockery of our family, you know that, yes?” she asks.
“You’re the one yelling at me and embarrassing yourself in a restaurant full of people,” Hyunjin points out.
“You are an aggravating and ungrateful child,” his mother hisses.
“Maybe,” Hyunjin agrees, “But I’m happy.”
Perhaps sensing that she’s starting to make a scene, his mother glances around at the other patrons, who are trying to hide the way they’re listening in with varying levels of success. Your waitress is lingering by the edge of the service floor, eyes glued on the scene.
“You’ll come to your senses,” she promises darkly. “And you’ll come begging for my help. We’ll see if I take pity on you then.”
And with that, she turns around and stalks toward the exit, not even pausing as she barks at the valet to bring her ride around. You watch until she’s outside and out of sight, and then you focus on Hyunjin.
His hands are shaking so badly that his fork clatters against his plate. You reach out and cover his hand with yours, easing the fork out of his grip and laying it down. You feel horrible, and kind of sick, but you know that between the two of you, Hyunjin is worse, so you have to push that discomfort down, just for a while.
“Let’s finish our dinner, okay?” you say, “And then we can talk about this.”
---------------
The rest of the date isn’t agonizing, but it is uncomfortable. You chat, and joke, albeit without the same easy grace as before. Seeing his mother, and having her speak to both of you that way has really seemed to rattle Hyunjin more than a confrontation usually would.
You settle the tab, splitting it like you always do, and then you find yourselves on a bench outside the restaurant, set away from the main road. It’s dark, and it’s chilly, but it’s comfortable with the gentle atmospheric music from the restaurant marquee and the sounds of traffic.
“Min’s mom wasn’t ready for a baby.”
You glance at Hyunjin at the sound of his voice. He’s fiddling with the cuffs of his blazer, still looking distinctly unsettled.
“Neither of us were,” he amends.
“Was she a hookup?” you ask.
“A girlfriend,” he says, “But not…she was just a girl from a good family. Someone my parents thought would be a good match, so we dated for a long time.”
“A good match,” you repeat, “A good match for you?”
“A good match for the family,” he says bitterly.
“What does that matter?”
“Oh, it matters. Way more than what I want,” he says.
“They’re really rich, aren’t they?” you ask, thinking about his mother’s clothes, and her attitude, and pretty much everything about her, “Your parents, I mean.”
“Disgustingly rich.”
“Oh.”
“She’s a really nice girl, a good person. But she really didn’t want to be with me forever, and she certainly didn’t want a kid,” Hyunjin says.
“So what happened?” you ask.
“She broke things off when she got pregnant, which made both of our families pissed beyond belief. The proper thing to do would have been to get married, right? But instead she ended the relationship, and moved home,” Hyunjin says, “They took care of Min for like a year and a half, her parents and a nanny.”
“Not the mom?”
Hyunjin shakes his head. “She just didn’t want a kid. Which is okay, more than okay. Our parents were the ones who wanted to keep the pregnancy, not her. I just wanted everyone to stop fighting.”
You just nod. Hyunjin is keeping this story so purposefully vague, not dropping names or placing blame or really showing any anger. You wonder how much time he’s spent thinking about this story, or telling it in different ways. He seems almost desensitized to it all.
“When Min was almost two, her mom asked if I would take on full custody so she could sign away her parental rights and be out of the picture for good. And I figured,” Hyunjin laughs bitterly, “I figured, better to have one parent that loves you the most than two while one is half-assing it.”
“No, I can see that,” you say.
“Minnie lived with me at my parents’ house until they realized that my ex was never coming back. They always figured we’d get back together.”
“Why?!” you ask, incredulous.
Hyunjin looks at you. “Because that would be the dutiful thing to do. Get married, stay together for the kid, avoid any embarrassing attention on the families.”
“Even if that meant you were both miserable forever?”
Hyunjin turns his gaze back at the ground, sighing. “My parents said they wouldn’t support me if I couldn’t even do that one thing right and convince my ex to do right by the families and marry me. But I wasn’t gonna force her. She’s a good person. just in over her head, and scared. And I can’t blame her for that. I can’t forgive her. But I understand.”
“So, what, they kicked you out?”
“Kicked me out, cut me off,” Hyunjin nods. “I used to be set for life, with their money to back me up. I could have fucked around forever, lived comfy. They took it all away because I wouldn’t marry a girl who didn’t love me and just wanted to live her own life.”
“You’re a good person,” you say.
“It was an easy choice,” he quips, some of his usual humor returning now that he’s gotten the stress of his story out of his mind, “Either my parents, who only love me conditionally, or my daughter, who loves the biggest and best out of anyone ever.”
You laugh, but you can’t shake the new strange feeling that has settled over you, now that you know all of this about him. Knowing that Hyunjin is the rejected son of a wealthy family, a silver-spoon kid with a heart of gold. It only validates some of those nagging feelings that in some unavoidable way, Hyunjin is far, far too good for you.
He’s given up a life of luxury and security for his daughter, and his freedom. You’re not about to make him compromise on anything else, ever. At all.
“Min doesn’t even miss any of them,” Hyunjin says thoughtfully, “Doesn’t even ask.”
“That’s good, I guess,” you say.
He shrugs. “Means that she’s not too fucked up from bouncing around like that as a baby, which is a fuckin’ blessing.”
“She’s safe and happy with you now, though,” you say.
Hyunjin grins at you. “But you know who’s been a great parent influence on her?”
“Who?”
“You.”
You laugh. “I’m no parent, trust me.”
“I dunno, you’re pretty great with her,” he says airily, “I don’t trust my kid with just anyone.”
“You gotta stop being so nice to me,” you say. “You’re gonna give me ideas.”
“Ideas like what? Afraid I’ll wanna take you out on a date? Introduce you to my kid? Oh wait-”
“Shut up!” you whine, nudging him. “I just…can’t believe you like me, sometimes. Like, that you really like me, like this.”
“Of course, I like you,” Hyunjin says, dumbfounded, “We’ve been going out for weeks.”
“Yeah, and that only started because Min told you that she wanted to be friends with me.”
“Did you really think that I got your number that day because I wanted you to be friends with my three-year-old?” Hyunjin asks.
“Yes!” you answer, totally honest, “Yes, I did. I think that you would do anything in the world for that kid, even something stupid like inviting me out.”
You stand up, suddenly needing some space, some air that isn’t warm from Hyunjin’s presence by your side or scented with his soft cologne. He just watches as you pace a few short steps away from the bench.
“It was maybe twenty percent because she was being so cute with you,” he says desperately, “But the other eighty percent was for me.”
You can’t believe that. Sure, part of you hoped for it, because it’s truly so insane to just let your preschooler make friends with random women in public. It makes sense for him to have an ulterior motive. You’d hoped that it was really him who was interested, even if he just intended to hook up with you and then cut it off.
It’s beyond obvious to you that you’ve fallen hard for Hyunjin, even in just this short time. The idea of him feeling anything like that for you is much harder to fathom.
“I know you care about me, at least a little,” Hyunjin says, standing up to join you, “At least, I hope you do. Something, some chance that you like me as more than a friend, or a casual date…”
“I do,” you say, voice strangled and tiny, “But you…you’re-”
“I’m what? I’m a father already? I have too much baggage for you?”
Your heart breaks a little bit more as he says that, as you imagine other people in the past dumping him with those exact words. The conviction in his voice is all that you need to picture it; a different person, a different night, the same outcome.
“No!” you insist.
“Then what?”
You bite the bullet, and you say it. “Because you’re beautiful, Hyunjin. You’re perfect. You have a wonderful kid and a nice life that you’ve built for her and yourself after all of that shit you went through. You…you’re too good for me.”
Hyunjin recoils like he’s been slapped. “How can you think that?”
“I just look at your life, and I can’t possibly picture you moving things around just to fit me in,” you say.
“How can you think that there’s not already space for you?! Can’t you see that you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time?” he asks.
“Because I’m…” you struggle, “I’m boring, Hyunjin, I don’t know! I’m not worth changing for.”
“That’s bullshit,” he scoffs. “You’re letting my mother get to you, which is just what she wants.”
“Then I’m just not right for you,” you say, trying to ignore his comment about his mother and how absolutely right it is. “You have this cute little picturesque life, and I have my normal job and my hobbies and my family and friends and I would just…be in the way.”
“You’re not in the way now,” Hyunjin says.
“We’re not a serious couple now!”
“Why can’t you just let me like you?!”
He’s practically yelling now, keeping his distance and nearly folding in on himself as he looks at you with eyes that are far too shiny. It’s not the yelling that gets to you, but what he’s saying.
“Because it’s scary!” you yell back. “I don’t want to lose you, or your kid, but I know that-”
“I can show you,” he pleads.
He draws in a little closer, like he’s afraid he’s going to spook you. Against your stubborn brain’s protests, you reach out to thread your fingers with his.
You don’t want to lose him.
But as disgusting and cliché and self-deprecating as it is, you just can’t fathom someone like him wanting to be with someone like you.
Hyunjin leans more fully into your gentle grasp, pulls you right up close to him so that the two of you are toe to toe, there on the street outside the restaurant, as cars pass by and streetlights cast their dim yellow light over it all. He’s looking right into your eyes, expression firm and warm and so, so Hyunjin. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you scan his face for nervousness or insincerity, and find none.
He’s looking at you the way he looks at Minnie when she falls asleep on the couch watching Frozen 2 for the millionth time. The way he looks at Judy when her back is turned in the café.
“I’ll show you that I mean it,” he says again, “I’ll be here for you. I’ll support you the way that you’ve supported us. I’ll love-”
He can’t get to the end of that sentence, because you wrench your free arm around his neck and pull him down to kiss you. He startles, lets go of your hand, and you freeze, thinking you’ve miscalculated the situation and gone too far. But he recovers quickly, wrapping both arms around your waist. He adjusts you so that you’re flush against him, and kisses back, harder.
His plush lips are wine-sour and soft, and he molds them against yours like he’s starving for it.
“My place,” he says, pulling back just the slightest bit so he can speak, “My place.”
“But-”
“Min is at Judy’s for the night,” he says, “Please.”
You want to. You want to so badly that your head is spinning, that your heart is beating out a rhythm against your ribcage. He’s here in front of you, wrapped up in you, so handsome and so unattainable…
Well. You think that Hyunjin is making a mistake. But if he’s gonna make it, you’re gonna enjoy every minute of it.
“Okay,” you breathe.
“Okay, or yes?” Hyunjin says, “I need a real yes.”
You hesitate. You decide. You say it.
“Yes.”
Just like that, he’s pulling you down the road to his car and opening the passenger’s side door for you. His place is across the city from here, so you settle in for what’s sure to be the most impatient car ride of your life. Anticipation drags out the minutes, as the energy between you grows so tense that you’re sure one of you is going to snap and start things up before you even get there.
But you’re spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of his building before you know it, Hyunjin’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you.
You’ve been to his place before, to meet him outside for dates, but you’ve never gone inside before. It’s a regular villa building, boxy and painted a demure white, and he leads you up the metal stairs to the third floor.
“I’m not trying to pressure you into anything,” Hyunjin says uncertainly, as he unlocks the door.
“I know,” you say, “I wouldn’t have come up if I didn’t want…well…”
Hyunjin grins his understanding, and you follow him into the apartment, taking his lead as he kicks off his shoes. You peek around when he flips on the lights.
His home looks about the way you’d expect: modest-sized and full of plain, sturdy furniture that looks like it could take a few hits. The décor is understated, intending to be an atmosphere of minimalist modernism, except that a girly, demanding preschooler definitely lives here. Drawings cover the fridge, the corkboard on the wall, the dining table with its one normal chair and one pink booster seat. Toys, hair accessories, and art supplies sit on shelves, in baskets, on end tables.
“It’s cute,” you say.
“Hm?”
Hyunjin pops his head out of the kitchen, now sans blazer, where he’s switching on more lights. He obviously has a just-gotten-home routine, and he’s not about to abandon it just because you’re here.
“This place. It’s cute,” you repeat. “It suits you.”
“It’s small,” he says with a shrug, tossing his blazer onto the back of the couch, “But we each have a bedroom and that’s really all that I can ask for. You ever shared a bedroom with a toddler? Not cool.”
“I’d like to see your room,” you tease, cringing at yourself instantly for making the dumbest of the dumb jokes.
But Hyunjin’s expression is just dangerously joyful, like he’s really taking it to heart.
“I’ll give you the grand tour,” he says.
“Sounds like you’re plotting.”
“I did tell you that I would prove it to you,” he says, drawing in close to you again, “How much I care about you.”
“The only way you know how to do that is with sex?” you ask playfully, “That’s sad. Maybe expand your vocabulary, first.”
He looks down at you, amused and just slightly frustrated. “Why can’t you make this easy for me?”
“Nothing with me is easy,” you say, “You should get used to that.”
“I dunno. You’re kind of easy to love.”
There he goes again, with that word. You can feel your cheeks burning, unable to process such casual affection from someone you like so much.
“Can I kiss you?” you ask.
“As much as you want,” he promises.
You slot yourself comfortably into his arms and lean up to kiss him. He’s got such ridiculous plush lips, soft and sliding against yours, and he holds you like you’re something precious. It’s an overwhelming amount of attention, but you let yourself bask in it.
“C’mon,” he says, “I’ll give you that tour.”
He winks, and then he releases you, walking across the small living space toward the doors on the far wall. Following him is second nature, at this point, and you pad after him.
“This is Min’s room,” he tells you.
He cracks the door on the right, so that you can see a peek of the pink explosion on the other side.
“She picked all her own décor,” he says.
“I’m starting to think that pink is just your favorite color, and you’re using the kid as an excuse,” you say.
“You’ll never get me to admit it,” he grins.
He opens the door on the left, and this room is soft woods and earth tones. Definitely an adult’s room, almost stark in its lack of personal effects. It’s dark except for city lights filtering between the open curtains, casting the room into a seductive kind of shadow. You follow him into the room, grinning to yourself.
“Bed looks comfy,” you say.
Hyunjin sits down on the edge of the bed, strong thighs in dress pants drawing your eye shamefully quickly, and fixes you with a look.
“Come find out,” he offers.
You can’t keep being so self-conscious about this. It’s Hyunjin, it’s only Hyunjin, your friend. One of your dearest friends. With his supermodel face, and his long blonde hair falling out of its ponytail in wisps around his cheekbones, and the outline of his cock against his thigh-
Fuck.
Something in you snaps. You climb into his lap, settling yours knees on either side of his hips, winding your arms around his neck to pull his mouth back against yours. He laughs into the kiss, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you down harder into him.
“See?” he says, voice low, “It’s not so hard to open up to me, is it?”
“I think you’re making a mistake,” you mutter.
“You’re so mean to yourself,” Hyunjin chides.
You cock an eyebrow at him. “I can be mean to you instead.”
He just laughs again, grinding his hips up into you briefly. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, distinct even through the layers of clothes that separate the two of you.
“Can this come off?” he asks, plucking at the collar of your nice silky blouse.
“Yeah.”
His answering smile is dark and satisfied, conniving in a way that makes your pulse jump. Hyunjin is so calm and sweet most of the time, cheerful in a way that suggests naivety. You almost worry about him, sometimes, worry that to other he’ll come across as just pretty and dim. Why are you getting the feeling that you’ve stumbled across a very different part of him, tonight?
“D’you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asks, against your collarbone, as he unbuttons your blouse down your chest, down your stomach.
“How long?”
“Too long. Way too long.
He’s pushing your shirt off your shoulders before you know it, reaching around to unhook your bra. His hands are firm and certain, the stumbling hesitation that he’d shown while asking you out nowhere to be found. Here, apparently, he’s absolutely comfortable.
Your shirt and bra are discarded carelessly, and you’re surprised that you feel no shyness at all when Hyunjin cups your breasts in his hands and thumbs over your nipples.
“Knew you’d be pretty,” he says.
“Shut up,” you mumble.
He gives you another one of those feline grins.
“Watch it,” he warns.
Hyunjin hooks one arm around your back and flips the two of you over so that he’s on top, all but dragging you up to the middle of the bed. You’re sprawled on your back under him now, bouncing gently on the mattress with the force that he’d used to move you.
“You’re even prettier like this,” he smirks, “I like the slacks, by the way, very professional. I didn’t tell you that earlier.”
“Thanks,” you reply, breathing heavy, unsure how to handle this new Hyunjin and his blinding confidence.
“Can those come off, too?”
“What about your clothes?” you whine.
“We’ll get to that,” he promises.
He only needs one hand to unbutton, unzip, and tug your slacks down to your knees in one fluid motion, and he move aside so you can kick them off all the way.
“These are so you,” Hyunjin says.
You’re confused, until you look down yourself to see the panties you’d put on that morning: light blue with a pattern of tiny white running llamas. They’re not all that sexy, but they’re comfy, and it’s not like you’d explicitly planned on anyone seeing them, date or no date.
“I wasn’t expecting to get fucked tonight,” you say bluntly, “Give me a break.”
“Should have at least hoped for it,” he grins.
“I try to keep my expectations realistic.”
“You need to give yourself more credit,” Hyunjin says.
To punctuate it, he leans down over you fully, caging you in, and kisses you breathless again. He trails his mouth and hands down your front lazily, scraping his teeth against your hipbone where it peeks from the waistband of your underwear. He lets one long finger trace over your panties, across your covered pussy, and you can’t help how you twitch.
“Bet you’re fuckin’ delicious, too. Am I gonna get to taste?” he asks.
“Jesus Christ,” you groan.
The mouth on him…you’ve never had someone talk to you like this before, so tender and affectionate but also so obscene. It sends arousal pealing through you, the idea that he can be so into this, into you.
“Use your words,” he says, “Come on, can I taste you?”
“Yes,” you say, “God, Hyunjin…”
“Oh, I like how my name sounds, like that, listen to you,” he purrs.
He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties off smoothly. Those are abandoned over the edge of the bed, too, and Hyunjin has his face between your legs seemingly as fast as he can.
“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” he says, warm breath fanning over your inner thighs.
“I will,” you say, “Don’t worry.”
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters, and he licks into you indulgently.
He’s got one hand bracing himself against your leg, one hand holding your folds open for him so he can dip his tongue into your opening, drag it slow across your clit.
“Fuck,” he says, and you swear you can feel the word against you, “Can’t wait to feel this sweet pussy around my dick.”
You moan. You can’t help it, can’t help the way you’re leaking your arousal against his tongue, the way his words and his gorgeous mouth are working you over. He pulls away from your core much too quickly, and he smiles when you whine.
“Just a taste, I said,” he placates.
He sits back on his heels between your legs to strip off his own clothes, but you haul yourself up to meet him.
“Let me do it,” you say.
“Be my guest.”
So it’s your turn to undo his buttons and give yourself an unencumbered look at his body for the first time. He’s slim, working muscle like a dancer, gorgeous skin under your hands. You kind of want to take your time, leave marks all over him and get to know every inch. But it does seem like he has an agenda tonight, as he impatiently shrugs off his shirt and undoes his own belt.
He rids himself of his pants and underwear quickly, and you really should have expected him to have a cock like THAT. He’s tall, and pretty, and of course, this part of him matches perfectly, long and thick and beautifully flushed.
“I’m clean,” you find yourself saying, “And on birth control, so if you want…we can…”
Hyunjin grins at you. “You just want me to fuck you raw.”
“I do,” you agree, “Fuck, I do.”
“I’m clean, too,” he tells you.
He nudges your legs apart to make room for him as he crawls back up your body, giving you a gentle playful shove so that you lay flat on your back for him again.
“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up, just like this?”
He’s looming over you, propping himself up with his hands planted on either side of your head. You can feel the tip of his cock nudging between your folds.
“That’s what I want,” you agree desperately. “Please.”
You don’t know why you’re begging him like this. Are you that easy to break?
But you can’t bring yourself to care how ridiculous you sound, because Hyunjin rocks his hips forward to dip the head of his cock into you, and you keen.
“What do you want?” he asks, with a knowing smirk.
“You know exactly what!”
“I can’t give you anything unless you tell me,” he says.
“I want,” you struggle, “I want you to fill me up. Please.”
“That’s a good girl,” he praises gently.
He rewards you with another thrust, a little deeper, sending a fantastic thrill through your body but still nowhere near enough. He works himself into you slowly, just a bit at a time, pulling completely out in between just to be able to sink all the way back in.
After what seems like an eternity, he slides in completely, hips flush against yours. You squirm, needing him to do SOMETHING, after taking his sweet time to get to this point, but Hyunjin seems content to just sit like this for a moment.
“I was right,” he tells you, “Feels fuckin’ heavenly.”
“Move, please,” you beg.
“Be patient. Maybe I just want you to cockwarm me for the rest of the night,” he teases.
“I would go home,” you say.
He laughs. “Okay, okay, you got me, that’s not what I want.”
So slowly that you know he’s doing it on purpose to torture you, Hyunjin draws back and fucks into you, hard and deep. It coaxes a punched-out moan from your throat, already so strung out though you’ve just begun.
He’s stronger than you would have imagined, driving into you with those narrow dancer’s hips and leaning down to press kisses to your cheeks, your mouth, the sides of your throat. His hands roam like he wants to be touching all of you at once: kneading into your breast, smoothing back your hair, bending your legs up farther so he can fuck you deeper, better.
“Look how well you take me,” he says.
You do look. You crane your neck up to look down the narrow space between you, as Hyunjin props up his body above you, and you can just barely see his thick cock working into you, disappearing with an obscene squelch that leaves no question about how much you’re enjoying yourself.
“So messy,” he teases.
“’m not messy,” you mumble, feeling sex-stupid but indignant.
“No?” he grins, “Not dripping wet for me?”
You want to argue, but he’s right; you can feel exactly how wet you are for him. You can’t remember the last time someone had you so desperate, so ready and eager to take what you’re given. Hyunjin falls forward to let your bodies press together, covering you and pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.
“Sweet girl,” Hyunjin murmurs, voice soft and fond and dangerous, “So good for me. So good with my kid. We could give her a sibling, you know.”
It sounds like something that just slipped out, the way that it’s so honest and the way that Hyunjin nearly gasps at himself. But your mind has gone one hundred percent completely blank. You let out a moan that’s mostly silent, as you let the implication of that wash over you.
You didn’t think you had a thing for, well…this.
But Hyunjin, looking at you like this, talking like this, honest and filthy, right in your ear. You know that it’s just dirty talk, that he doesn’t mean it, not right this instant. You both know that you’re on birth control. But the game of it, the idea of it…
“Yes,” you gasp, “Oh my God-”
“Oh, you REALLY like that,” he purrs, “I can feel you squeezing around me.”
“Hyunjin!” you moan.
“Is that what you want, baby? You just wanna be filled up with my cum, is that it?”
You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, and you doubly can’t believe how much you fucking love them, how you’re nodding and clawing your fingernails down his back at the picture he’s painting for you.
“Please,” you gasp, “I want – I want-”
Hyunjin draws up so that he can look into your eyes. “Baby wants me to give her a baby. Hm.”
Never in your life have you been brought right to the point of cumming just from someone’s words, but that’s exactly what’s happening. You can feel that perfect fuzzy electricity in your toes, building up. If you cum untouched, just from this, you’re gonna have some real soul-searching to do.
He seems to be at a similar place, fucking into you at a breakneck pace, still murmuring at you mindlessly.
“Want to fill up this sweet pussy, put a baby in you…Jesus fucking Christ, so good,” Hyunjin moans.
“Inside,” you agree, “Please – I need you, I just-”
As if he couldn’t be more perfect, Hyunjin slips his hand between you, presumably to bring you over the peak with him. The instant his finger presses against your clit, starts to rub a messy circle in the wetness spreading across your folds and your inner thighs, you cum.
You feel like screaming, but your voice is strangled, constricted with arousal, “Oh-”
“Fuck!” Hyunjin moans, like he’s agreeing with you.
One, two, three, four deep strokes, and Hyunjin bottoms out, pressing into you as he cums. Your hips buck into him on their own accord as he paints your walls with his cum, and you can’t help the newly-awakened corner of your mind that thinks about what could happen, if you weren’t on your birth control, if you did this again…
Goddamn. You really have some journaling to do later, or something.
“So perfect,” Hyunjin mutters, letting his head fall, burying his face in your shoulder, “So fucking perfect, how did I get so lucky?”
You’re the lucky one, you think to yourself. Your brain is simultaneously too full and too empty to say anything coherent, so you just lay there, wrap your limbs around Hyunjin as well as you can. He gets the message, you think, because he snuggles more firmly into you and turns his head to press a kiss to your jaw.
He’s warm, and kind of heavy, but you don’t want him to move, or to pull out of you. Just let this minute last a little longer, you think. Just a little longer, before you have to talk about what all of this means.
---------------
You only know you’ve fallen asleep when you wake up.
There’s a weight on your chest, pressing you into the mattress. For a second you think you have sleep paralysis, until you get a face-full of blonde hair and realize that it’s just Hyunjin, fast asleep on top of you.
“Get up,” you say, pushing on him gently, “And, ew, let me clean up.”
You can feel his cum drying on the inside of your thighs, where it trickled out around his softened cock while you slept. It’s kind of nasty, but the memory of all the hazy lust-filled things you said to each other makes you not mind so much.
Hyunjin yawns audibly, right next to your head, and then he peels himself off you.
“Sorry,” he grins. “Are your arms asleep?”
“No. Doesn’t your neck hurt from laying like that?”
He presses a smacking kiss to your forehead. “No. You’re a good pillow.”
Hyunjin pulls out of you and climbs gingerly off the bed. You squint around the room until your eyes find a glowing digital clock on his bedside; it’s only just past midnight.
“Shower and then sleep?” Hyunjin offers.
“Sounds good.”
He helps you to your feet, laughing as your knees threaten to buckle despite the cooldown period you’ve had.
“I hope I didn’t cross any lines,” he says tentatively, “I took a risk with all that baby talk and-”
“I liked it,” you admit, shy.
“Really?”
You nod. “I mean, we shouldn’t do anything stupid. Not right now. But just to play with, in the bedroom…”
Grinning, you fan yourself dramatically with your hand, like you’re a proper lady being overwhelmed with the saucy behavior of your male paramour.
Hyunjin laughs again. “Good to know.”
He shows you across the hall to the bathroom, men’s hair and skin and shaving products lined up next to rainbow-packaged kiddie shampoo and a small bin full of bath toys. As the shower is warming up, steam and the sound of rushing water filling the bathroom, he nudges you with his elbow.
“I knew all along that you were just into me because I have a kid,” he says.
You consider it, as you pull back the shower curtain and test the water. It’s warm, so you draw the curtain fully back and step under the spray. Peeking out at him, water starting to run down your back and warm your skin the way that Hyunjin’s presence warms you on the inside, you smile.
“Guess you’re just a DILF.”
💕💕💕💕
#hwang hyunjin#stray kids#hwang hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin fics#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids hyunjin smut#dilf series#kpop#kpop fanfic#tw emotional manipulation#tw emotional neglect#tw unhealthy relationship
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Could we get some headcanons of what it’ll be like to date one of the recruits from rescue bots academy? (Both NSFW and SFW plz or not, it’s fine-)
Let's do SFW. I personally take them as being young adults, but some people don't, so imma just do SFW in this particular ask. You want NSFW, wait till my requests open again to ask for specifically that. Now, let's go!
Wedge!!;
Wedge doesn't ask you out straight up. It's a LOT of snarky banter beforehand, so asking you on dates is actually more implied.
He loves taking you to carnivals and stuff. Stuffed animals, dumb rides-he's 'Mr. Perfect' when you first meet him, but he's not as serious as he comes off.
If you take him to places that involve rides, you will have to hold his hand. It's the only way he can make it through it. And please don't poke fun of him, a decepticon afraid of heights is something that's a sore spot for him.
Doesn't let you carry anything after a day of shopping. He's big strong, and loves to prove it to you. It's almost annoying, but he's cute, so.
He's constantly asking if you wanna build stuff with him. Diagrams, models, all sorts of things that involve you spending a LOT of time with him, and occasionally hand touching.
Don't ask him to pay for things. Not because he can't afford it, my guy just can't fucking math.
Dude LOVES taking you to races. If it goes fast, he's interested. Be prepared to have Hot Shot join tbh, he loves it too.
Honestly you're gonna date Hot Shot too, they're a package deal.
He's not LEGENDERY in his kisses, but he's honest and sweet about it. Likes to hold your face during.
Hot Shot!!;
Awkward. So awkward. Has no clue what he's doing. Seriously, you will have to ask him out, else he's gonna kill himself doing a stunt to impress you. It's cute though, you can tell he's eager.
He wants to impress you like Wedge. Only, he takes it too far, and only does what he KNOWS he's good at, so you'll be impressed by him. His cube skills are great, but it really comes off as self absorbed. Once he realizes you like him though, he's more open for casual dating, liking walks in the park and shit.
Tries so hard to sweep you off your feet. Lots of nicknames that sound awkward coming from him-he'll get the hang of it, eventually. Bear with him, he's still trying to wrap his head around his feelings.
Claims to be a kiss king. Doesn't know what the shit he's doing. He'll learn though, he picks up fast. He'll get so excited though- expect accidental headbutts.
Hoist!!;
Definitely asks for a first date by handing you a note during class. Is a little bit shy, so the classic 'do you like me?' Line is up his alley.
He's very eager to fix things. Things you broke, your sour mood-he's a problem solver for the most part. So much so, you gotta remind him to take breaks, and to be open when he needs help too.
Dates with him include petting zoos, definitely. He likes petting animals with you, and also likes coming up with the best names. Winner gets a kiss. Loser also gets a kiss. It's a fun game.
He'd fight you on it, at least a little bit, but he'd love a good nap and a cuddle sometimes. He's a GREAT cuddle buddy. Mumbles in his sleep, and occasionally sleep walks.
Please take him clothes shopping. He'll wear anything you wanna put on him- especially hats. Oh my god he fucking loves hats.
Is nervous about asking for kisses. You kinda gotta get him out of his shell a bit, but once he's out, he's eager to experiment. Be warned though, he gets distracted easily after, so try not to do it during lab time.
Whirl!!;
Very straight forward, she just eagerly asks if you wanna go on a date. She REALLY hypes it up- even if she thinks a date night is studying police codes.
For actual dates-take the bitch to the aquarium. Seriously, this bitch fucking loves fish. She can name so many of them, you'd think she has a water alt mode. Is also down for watching finding Nemo or any movie with fish. She can absolutely speak whale, just like dory.
Asks lots of questions, sometimes out of nowhere. She just genuinely thinks someone she's dating is so smart, so who better to ask? It's a bit annoying, but she's cute, so.
Will never NOT be excited to hang out with you. Even if you just wanna read a book with her, she drops everything to do it with you.
Expect Chase to third wheel your dates. Not because he's protective- she genuinely wants you to see how cool Chase is. It's cute, until Chase tries to give you a ticket when you try to kiss her.
Speaking of kisses, she's SO enthusiastic! Kisses you out of nowhere, multiple times throughout the day. On your cheek, on your forehead, on your lips. All little pecks. When you give her an actual kiss, she gets all giggly and excited- her rotary blades will spin (speaking of Blades, Blades totally wingmans for you guys. His inner shipper).
Medix!!;
Will not ask you out. Not because of pride or anything like that, he just doesn't see dating as his main focus in life. You'd have to ask him. A...few times. Whenever he's not busy in the medical bay. It comes off as dick ish, but my guy is really just a busy bee.
Dates with him are usually indoor stuff. If he trusts you, he let's you help him in the medical bay, and if you REALLY wanna make him swoon- alphabetize some of his files. Hot.
Doesn't like surprises. Especially confetti related surprises. He's not romantic, but he's practical in a relationship, so he'll be honest and up front about things. While he won't sweep you off your feet, he will know your needs, your wants, your habits. Don't be surprised when he leaves you your favorite snacks at your work station, alongside a little sticker.
Whenever you guys DO go out for dates, it's to listen to music. Seriously, this dude is predictable everywhere else, but once he listens to a sick beat? Dude vibes so fucking hard, it's kinda incredible. He gets his dance skills from Ratchet.
Speaking of Ratchet, he is SUCH a protective uncle. You better bring his nephew home at a reasonable hour. Gives you both a lesson about the bots and the bees. He has a powerpoint presentation ready.
Don't kiss him without permission. If you try to surprise kiss him, he will spray you like you're a feral cat. Don't. Just don't. He doesn't like being touched without permission, at ALL. When he does kiss though, he's actually like. REALLY fucking good at it. Like you'd think it'd be cute, maybe awkward. Lowkey my guy is the best kisser of the bunch, first time leaves your head spinning. It's a medic thing.
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AOT (SNK) HEADCANONS
What their favorite curse words are or which ones they would use in a modern setting. -Includes the Warriors ofc ^^-
TRIGGER WARNING: you guessed it. Curse words and mentions of slur usage (slurs not included ofc).
Eren (S1-3): he would definitely go with the usual “fuck” and “bitch” but have an unhealthy obsession with words related to balls that everyone hates and makes Mikasa give him dirty looks every time he says one.
“Bro you fucking piece of shit, I swear I will kick you in those fucking hairy bollocks you call a face”
Eren (S4): this man just says the most offensive slurs (unprovoked and with no visible emotions) that make the entire room go QUIET.
Mikasa: doesn’t curse too often, but when she does, she mostly uses some Japanese curse words that she picked up from her mother, such as:
“くそ! (kuzo!)”: meaning “fuck!”
“ちくしょう (chikushō)”: meaning “oh shit”
“わるがき (warugaki)”: meaning “brat”. Mostly used towards Eren when she is annoyed.
Fair to say that she doesn’t shout them, she just says them in a low voice.
Armin: we all know it’s really unlikely that he’ll ever insult anyone during an argument, but for some reason i feel that he enjoys to say things like “holy guacamole!” when he stubs his toe in the couch and stuff like that djdjdjhs
Sasha: loves weird word combinations and long curse words to say at any given moment such as: “what in the mother geewillikers’ bazooka trunk is that?!?”
No one really knows how she comes up with these.
Connie: DEFINITELY uses stinky and ass way too much.
“Hey Connie, yo mama-“
“LISTEN YOU STINKY ASS MOTHE-“
Jean: is the one who actually makes the “yo mama” jokes to Connie ALL the time. He likes to get creative.
“Hey Connie, yo mama so fat that Thanos had to snap twice”
“Hey Connie, yo mama’s forehead so big that she can make a pita out of sourdough bread by giving it a headbutt”
Historia: on a daily basis, she uses refined curse words to refer to the people that she dislikes, such as “bastard”, “miserable”, “wretched” and such, but OH- we all know that when she’s either comfortable or really mad she can say (and probably knows) more curse words than everyone in the troops combined.
Ymir: she just needs cursing to live and most of her sentences consist of phrases with random curse words intertwined into every single one of them. Special mention to “shit” because she likes it a lot and most things that aren’t related to Historia are just “shitty” to her.
“I SWEAR TO GOD REINER YOU SHITTY FUCKING DICKHEAD! STAY AWAY FROM HISTORIA”
Erwin: oh, our good suburban dad Erwin. He really likes “bloody hell” and will throw random dammits at small inconveniences like “staining” his shirt with a little bit of coffee or a pen falling from his desk.
Levi: he will for sure call everyone an “asshole” because he simply thinks everyone is. Period. He doesn’t care who you are. To him, everyone is just a “stupid asshole that doesn’t deserve his time and effort”.
Yes. He learned this word from Kenny. Now cry.
Hange: they absolutely love researching funny and currently unused curse words on the internet just for the laughs. Hange doesn’t really feel the need to curse at everything and everyone, but will randomly throw some of the ones they learned when everyone is angry and cursing to just “get in the mood”.
Ymir: “he’s just shitty, I guess…”
Connie: “JUST SHITTY? HE FUCKING SUCKS ASS”
Hange, passing by: “zooterkins! he sounds like a zounderkite. Did you two know that is the victorian word for idiot?” *laughs and leaves*
Reiner: his favorites were “son of a bitch”, “motherfucker” and “whore”, and he mainly used them to insult fellow men when he was at Paradis. Now that he’s back in Marley, he just doesn’t have the energy/tries to avoid doing it for the kids.
Bertholdt: my good man right here would never insult anyone but himself when he is frustrated (which mostly happens in his mind, of course), but sometimes, when he says these things out loud, they’re like:
“Come on Bertholdt you’re such an idiot!”
“Dumb. I am dumb. Goodbye”. *storms off in tiny anger*
Annie: is definitely beyond basic “rat kid insults” (in her words) like “pussy”, anything to do with balls, “whateverfucker” and randomly saying “fuck” or “shit” in every sentence, so she usually goes with the useful basic when needed:
“Fuck off”. Yep, that is definitely a favorite.
Pieck: definitely knows how to curse properly but chooses not to, so don’t be fooled. She might look soft, and she is. But she has also been on too many missions with too many soldiers and definitely knows way more insults and jargon than you.
She doesn’t really have a favorite one, though. She just enjoys the looks on people’s faces when she lets them know that she understood every single word that they said and that “calling her a “carechimba hija de su puta madre” won’t suffice”.
Yelena: will straight up HEX you in russian and occasionally bring up some slurs💀. I know, I’m sorry Yelena but we all know it’s true ㅠㅠ
Zeke: this man is still -sadly- not over “balls and penis curse words”, so you can imagine for yourself what his common expressions are and how he goes from “ballsack sucker” to whatever sounds like it.
Porco: uses the classical “fuck”, “shit”, “bitch” and so on, but additionally tries to incorporate curse words or even slurs that he doesn’t know how to use or what they mean and their implications, only to be met by Pieck’s stare seconds later; and you guessed it: she usually has to explain to him what they mean and why he shouldn’t be using them.
Falco: will mostly say those weird “filtered bad words” that are children-safe, such as “fudge nuggets!” and “snickerdoodle!”, but you cannot tell me that Gabi hasn’t taught him the actual stuff and he secretly uses “shit” on the internet and some others slip out when he’s playing with his friends and gets mad at Gabi for cheating.
Gabi: knows the entire classic curse word dictionary. Occasionally uses slurs pretending she didn’t know that she couldn’t say them.
One day, she called Falco a “piece of pixelated b*kk*ke” because she heard it somewhere and thought it meant “shit”, so Pieck had to step in and age-appropriately explain that it was something that “bad men did to punish women in Japan and that it was not funny at all”. Gabi never said it again.
Casually picked up “suka” from Yelena because she thought it sounded funny.
#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan headcanons#shingeki no kyojin headcanons#eren jaeger#mikasa ackerman#armin aot#sasha braus#connie springer#hange zoë#levi ackerman#erwin smith#ymir#historia reiss#pieck#pieck finger#annie leonhardt#aot reiner#attack on titan bertholdt#porco galliard#gabi braun#falco attack on titan
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maybe a little more oh the things we left behind epilogue fluff??? ;u; i know the entire epilogue was fluff but i am insatiable
yes very good thinking anon and sorry for the long wait my brain is just a heap of goo right now but here we go - some ottwlb fluff set between the Mandalorian war and the very last scene of the fic, a small compilation of how Din found the rest of their family:
oh the things we found
small TW for mentions of blood and trauma
Din doesn't in any way plan on becoming a magnet for Force-sensitive children, he really doesn't, but it happens regardless, something about his unique combination of Force-null beskar, Force-conduit darksaber, and Force-bond husband drawing them in like moths to a flame.
He finds Rey first, on a recon mission out to Jakku, casing a distress signal from a lost covert. She can't be any older than Ben, who is seven now and an absolute terror, but in comparison to him, she doesn't listen to Din one bit, her whole life just a series of defying the authority figures around her. She dangles from a rope above him, in the hollowed-out remains of an Imperial Star Destroyer, sticking out her tongue at him. "I'm not coming with you!" she declares while Din tries to position himself in a way that will allow him to catch her if she slips. "I'm waiting for my family. They're coming to get me!"
He doesn't have the heart to tell her no one in their right mind would ever willingly come back to a place like Jakku. He places all his rations, most of his credits, and, just for good measure, some bacta spray on the ground below her like he's making some offering to an ancient feral god and leaves with an ache in his chest.
"She won't come with me," he complains to Luke later, pacing up and down in the living area of the Mudhorn while Luke brews tea. They don't technically live in the Mudhorn anymore, have their own quarters in the ruins of Yavin's temple, but they always end up here regardless, whenever one of them comes back from a mission, whenever they need it to be just the two of them, away from everyone's worries.
Luke hands him a steaming cup and places a soft kiss on his temple. "Don't worry," he says, in that cryptic tone of his, the one he uses to tease Din when he's being daft about something that's impossible for him to know. "She will." And that's that.
Din goes back. Once, twice, three times, until the sparse crowd of locals looks at him with pity in their eyes. She does come with him eventually, after his eighths visit, when he draws the darksaber on a dune beast and turns around to find her looking at him with the type of recognition in her eyes that he's only ever seen in the way Luke looks at Ben and Grogu.
"She's like you," he accuses when Luke greets them at the bottom of the Mudhorn's ramp, Rey perched high on his shoulders, her arms wrapped around his helmet so tight it's hard for him to see. Luke just smiles and reaches out so Rey can tentatively take his hand. The change is instant - as soon as their palms touch her whole body relaxes as if something in her is finally at peace and Din has to reach up to keep her from sliding off his shoulders. And well. That's that.
Finn is next, standing tall in front of a group of terrified kids, in a backroom of the imperial laboratory they just raided, his eyes ablaze and lips turned up into a snarl. "I'll fight you," he snaps even as Din can see his hands shaking around the mop he fished out of the supply closet as a makeshift weapon. "I'm not scared, I'll fight you!" And really all Din can do in response is pull his helmet off and fall to his knees with his hands raised above his head.
It seems to work because he gets all of them into the Mudhorn eventually, Finn curled up on the copilot's seat, staring out in wonder at the endless expanse of space while the rest of the kids are rolled up into every available blanket in the captain's quarter. It's a bit of a rough start - where Rey felt turmoil because of the things swirling inside her without guidance, all Finn has ever known is supervision and people telling him to be something he's not, his connection to the Force tempered down in all the wrong places, too silent and too loud all at the same time, and in the first weeks, Din spends a lot of time hugging him close to the beskar plating of his chest, taking strolls under the quietness of Yavin's trees like he used to do with Ben. Finn quiets eventually, just as Rey did, the two of them getting on like a house on fire.
Shara is the one who brings Paige and Rose Tico, two sisters left stranded and alone by the still raging unrest of the remnants of war, and there is barely a discussion before she decides to take them in herself, the two of them glued to Poe the second they step off Shara's ship.
He finds Armitage last, standing over the dead body of an Imperial officer, blood on his hands and all across his face, just a sliver of yellow in the green of his eyes. Din has bruises on his arms for a week from how hard the kid strains against him as he tries to drag him out of the Star Destroyer before it self-destructs, but he figures, all things considered, they'll be able to handle that too.
He turns out to be a menace, of course, too smart for his own good, and way too stubborn to let Ben get away with his teasing, which always seems to end up Luke and Din having to physically drag them away from each other. Din tries to do for him what he did for everyone else, to hold him close and comfort him, but he only ever succeeds in the quiet of the night when he finds him at the very top of the temple wrapped up tightly in Luke's arms, both of them holding onto each other for dear life, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained, darkness hanging around them like rain clouds.
Armitage takes a shine to Bo-Katan though, amidst all of his defiance, a fact that seems to confuse her as much as it does Din, and he knows that that will probably spell disaster in the future given how fast and feral Armitage takes to swinging a lightsaber, but to his relieve the Armorer steps up to pull him to her workshop by the back of his neck and balances the murder in his eyes with ever-evolving engineering challenges.
And so it takes a bit, quite a while in fact, but they find their balance eventually, their weird ever-growing family, all of them slotting into each other in a way that sometimes makes Din wonder if this was their doing too, Luke's and his, if in bending the universe around them, and in becoming one in the Force they somehow became a beacon for all those who are lost.
He wonders about it on the nights when, even after Han settles down on Yavin more or less permanently to be closer to Ben, and even after Paz bashfully asks to officially adopt Rey who's been glued to his shoulders for months, and even after Armitage makes it very clear that he doesn't plan to ever be adopted by anyone, Luke comes back from an excursion to find Din pilled into their bed with a bunch of wayward Foundlings.
"Sorry," Din mumbles sleepily as Luke steps over a snoring Paz who's taken up guard in the hallway, "It just happened."
"Is there room for one more?"
"Unlikely," Din sighs as he always does, but Luke finds a spot anyways, shuffling the kids around until they are just awake enough to demand a story from him.
"It's late," Luke smiles as Din pulls him closer to lean their foreheads together in greeting, Grogu climbing up from where he was tucked beneath Ben's chin to settle in between his dads. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."
"Just one!" Rey pleads from her spot at Din's side, Finn's head popping up behind her in a show of support and Luke raises a warning eyebrow as Poe and Rose scoot closer from where they were sprawled over Din's legs. "You always say we need to be curious about the world around us!"
"It will help us sleep," Armitage argues from his spot at the end of the bed, the one he takes to pretend he doesn't care about any of this, and starts scooting close too, shoving at Ben to make space.
"They make a good point," Din interjects gently and pulls Armitage out of the way and between them before Ben can get up enough to headbutt him with Din's helmet, which is a constant on his head on those nights where they all feel pulled towards each other.
"Traitor," Luke laughs, letting Armitage nestle in closer to him, but he'll tell them about his travels anyways until they are all knocked out and snoring peacefully and Din can press a quick kiss to Luke's lips without having to listen to a cascade of "ew" and "gross".
And so, in the end, he always drifts asleep knowing he doesn't fully understand it, not really, how they all manage to fit so perfectly into each other's lives, how he managed to find this, this place that is domestic in a way nothing in his life has ever been, but he figures he doesn't have to understand it, not when he also knows with absolute certainty that they are all exactly where they are supposed to be.
#dinluke#oh the things we left behind#thank you for that lovely question anon#I had this in my head for a long time I'm glad it's out there now#they all deserve some cuddles and happiness#also yes I made most of them the same age to fit my timeline poe and hux are the only ones who are slightly older#imagine all of them as children in the same place pure chaos#I have some more of their shenanigans somewhere down in my notes#maybe I'll get around to writing them out one day#but now I take a nap#soph andswers asks#soph writes
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Werewolf! AOT Girls as Parents.
[werewolf au] | headcanons
reblogs welcomed | requests: closed !
Annie Leonhardt: This wolf is the most nervous when it comes to the announcement and up until the birth. However, once she sees her kid then she’s feels accomplished. For the first time since her disappearance, she feels truly alive and like she did something right for once. Expect her to sob and hold her kid close to her, nuzzling her head against her wife and a newly born child.
Her parenting would be a lot of trial and error! She does her best! She is what most would consider a “Chill” Parent, she simply likes to let her kid feel comfortable. Annie will correct them if needed but she thinks a kid should be a kid. She enjoys watching them, it just makes her heart happy.
Expect to see her holding her kid everywhere! Where she goes, They go. They end up being inseparable! Sometimes you’ll see Annie with your kid sleeping against her chest. Your kid even learns to headbutt because of her. You’ll see them also sneaking around to do things as well, sometimes you have to be like “Annie?” and she’ll go, “What?” With an emotionless face— She was feeding her kid a lil salami—
Expect her to be the kind of parent that learns as they go, always looking up what kids should and shouldn’t have. She certainly has stumbled a couple of times but you’re always there to help her so that’s always what keeps the peace. “Wait, can kids have that?” “….Let me call Pieck.”
Sasha Braus: She’s here for the ride. The first time she heard the news she was jumping around, her arms coming around you to pick you up and twirl you around as she smothers you in kisses. Oh man, her tired expression when she finally sees it, she’s brought to tears. She’s just crying and talking about how weird it is to actually see the baby.
Sasha’s parenting is laid back and playful, her kid is never not entertained! You help her and she does her best to help you with everything your kid needs. She learns from Youtube— Sometimes she will go, “I’m a professional, Y/N. Let me handle this.” just know after she says that then she doesn’t handle it well—
You swear, after having a kid, Sasha became a pup herself. She is always with her pup outside running out with her kid, pouncing on one another, sometimes you see them nap together in the living room. Sometimes you have to have them run off together in the woods cause their energy is overwhelming.
She’s a carefree mom, always learning something new every day. “Sasha? Where is [child’s name]?” She would always freeze up a bit. “…With Pieck??” You have to be like “Are you asking or telling me?” and you just see her slowly stand up to go look for them.
Ymir: Ready to take responsibility. She wants to be your support every step of the way and is asking Pieck every question in the book about babies. Ymir was fucking happy to see her baby born healthy and was literally happy crying and just saying “Wow!” in disbelief that she is a mom now.
She’s a smothering mom, always doing the most for her kid, they will never not have something they need or want. Ymir may smother but she’s not afraid to put her foot down when needed. Sometimes though, she will just pretend not to see her pup chewing on a pillow. That’s where you step in.
She and Her kid are partners in crime, always pranking one another or getting in trouble together. They even have a secret handshake. It’s not foreign to hear your child bark from happiness as Ymir nuzzles into her kid and when they both play tug of war together. She always is carrying her pup on her shoulders, playing with them, and sometimes making bets with them.
“Ymir— They can’t do that yet-” Ymir will always just shrug her shoulders and then go, “The earlier the better! Ain’t that right, lil pups?” She is protective of her pup even after the phase is over, she will always see them as her lil pup even when they are older. Ymir is the chill but smothering kind of mom.
Pieck Finger: Pieck is in tears when she learns that she is going to be a mom. She’s 100% prepared for this. Oh! And she finally sees her pup then she is in tears, holding that baby close and softly petting its head as she whispers her hellos to it. She’s so nurturing and determined to make sure her kid gets the best.
She’s a spoiler and organized. Pieck has her baby stuff all in their own places, labels them, even has a list of stuff for you to get whenever you run out. Baby isn’t feeling good? Here she comes with the proper stuff to handle it. Pieck’s got parenting down to a T. Your kid will know better.
She always is nuzzling against her kids. Sometimes they will just jump over to her and here she goes, nuzzling and cuddling up with them. Sometimes she’s just napping with them in weird places of your house. You often have to coax her to get up and move to a bed? or at least be somewhere that isn’t the kitchen floor.
She is a very kind and nurturing mother. Always cradling her kid as she softly hums and works on something. That kid will definitely grow up spoiled but disciplined. Pieck is 100% ready for a kid. 
#annie x reader#annie leonhardt x reader#miss tax evader#sasha x reader#sasha braus x reader#miss sloppy eater#pieck x reader#pieck finger x reader#the big braincell#ymir x reader#ymir.#LMAO ymir is just here for the ride#She pays her taxes her taxes are paid
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Cat and... Wolf?
Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist
Request: hey! could you do a bigby wolf x shy but criminal reader? thank you!
+ shy criminal reader req anon here! i was thinking that the reader could be snooping around the office, trynna steal some High Profile folders and bigby is all 👀 gotcha now Bitch
Pairing: Bigby Wolf x Reader
Warnings: Nothing really- this piece is for reader's of all genders!
Summary: It's a game of cat and mouse, but between you and Bigby? It's the same, only he's no mouse.
Word Count: 1.750
Author's Note: The reader is ought to be a fable, so what better fable could there be for this scenario, if not an actual cat? I made the reader into Puss in Boots, I know that the author is Straparola and not the Grimms, but bare with me! It fits so well 😖 I hope you like this, anon! and let's pretend Bigby's office has a window...
Enjoy!
"Oh look, a cat!" Snow White kneels beside your original form, completely unsuspecting and scratches the back of your head. You headbutt her palm and purr loudly, trying to appear as normal as any other cat. "How'd you end up here...?"
"I thought stray animals weren't allowed in," Bigby comments, sensing something in your scent, but then immediately realises the mistake he's made, before Snow gets up and smirks back.
"Really? Do pigs count? Wolves?" She smiles and Bigby sighs loudly. "It's okay, it probably got in because of the cold."
It's a snowy, cold December evening. They leave chatting, but Bigby gives you a final look over his shoulder -over the sleeve of his coat- before they exit the apartment. You stay there for another few minutes for good measure and once they're out of sight, you start making your way up the stairs, to the floor where his office is.
You were being paid very well, for doing this - stealing the criminal file of the man who hired you. It was extra risky, sneaking into the sheriff's office; you could possibly get ripped apart because of this, or thrown down the Witching Well, but he was planning on paying you so well...
You hear just one person walking around the floor as you quietly trot towards Bigby's office and that someone turns out to be Flycatcher. Tsk, too easy, you smirk to yourself; stretch, yawn and meow.
"Huh?" Flycatcher turns around and notices you clawing at Bigby's door. "Hey there, little fellow. You wanna go in there?" You almost nod, then remember you're not supposed to understand him, so you meow loudly instead, then rub against his legs. "Uh, I don't think I should let you in..."
You're practically screaming at him at this point, clawing more and more at the door and jumping up toward the knob; it takes him a while, but your cries finally work their magic as he groans: "Okay, okay! Just don't take your piss in there, the sheriff will kill me if he finds out I let you in..."
You purr loudly and headbutt the sides of his calf as he twists open the lock to Bigby's office. This is going pretty smoothly, you think to yourself and as soon as he opens the door, you run into the dark, cigarette-smelling room. Flycatcher's saying some stuff to you, but you're too busy figuring out where the sheriff keeps all the files of the fables with criminal records, that you don't listen to a single word he says.
Once you're curled up on top of his desk, closing your eyes to "sleep", Flycatcher feels less guilty because you're just a harmless cat who wants to sleep in Bigby's office, what could go wrong?
Tsk.
You hear him leave, but still wait like that for another minute... for good measure. Once he enters the elevator and the floor goes quiet, you transform into your human form. You quickly light Bigby's table lamp and move in front of the sets of drawers to your right, but then turn around and notice you hadn't found a way out yet. That proves easy too, fortunately, a window on the other side of the wall- a big one. Your grin grows wider as you slide open the window and check the height for your drop: It's a long one, but the large trees in the park should allow you to land smoothly. You walk back and immediately begin digging through the messy pile of documents.
"Ugh, typical," You sigh quietly, annoyed at how unorganised Bigby was. No alphabetical order, no proper placement: Just files on top of others.
You and him had a brief history. It's not exactly romantic per se, not on your aspect anyway, you'd like to think. You liked playing around with him, he seemed to have a soft spot for you and, maybe -just maybe- you had one for him, but not as obvious and strong as his. You two followed entirely different lifestyles: You everything you did was somehow always against the law and, well, Bigby is the law. It would never work anyway...
Your brows furrow, Focus!
After a few minutes, you finally find the file and raise it up in triumph after closing the drawer. You want to take a peek, see what the man had done- his file was very thin, what could've he possibly done, that made him ask such a risky thing of you?
Just as you're debating, you suddenly hear urgent steps walk out of the elevator and immediately recognize them.
Ah, fuck...
You quickly hide the file into your coat and turn around right before he opens the door. A vague smirk appears on your lips and Bigby crosses his arms: "Should'a known that was you."
"Hi, sheriff," Your expression is calm and somewhat shy, if not a little mischievous.
"What are you doing here?" He growls by the doorway, not moving an inch from his place while you slowly make your way to the window.
"I wanted to see you," You lie, voice quiet, then bite on your bottom lip. He made you feel a little too nervous for your liking, for many reasons... and he knew every single one of them.
"You always were good at lying," He sighs in defeat, going soft at the sight of your reddening cheeks. It takes him a while to separate your emotions, whether you're actually nervous or not - why you're nervous, because of lying or because of him? Both?
You can't help but feel a little offended at his words and he sees that, which in turn makes him feel a little guilty. "Well," You say, tone giving away how you were feeling, but also giving away your urgency to get out of there: "I was about to leave anyway."
"What's the hurry?" It's his turn to smirk as he slowly rounds the table. You both make your way to the window and it's a little unsettling, but you fight to not give it away.
"I said I was here to see you," You reply quietly. "I saw you, now I'm leaving."
"Hm?" He's toying with you and you realise he might've, with very low possibility, caught you this time. You still had tricks under your sleeve, though.
"You're clearly not happy to see me, no point on waiting around-" You sit yourself on the edge of the window, but he suddenly steps in front of you, looking down into your eyes and crossing his arms again.
"Oh, I don't think so," He grins. "I didn't say I wasn't happy to see you..."
"You sure looked like it," You pout a little. Exaggerating your mimics sometimes worked with him. Sometimes.
"I-" He huffs. "It's been a long day, (Y/N)."
The way he says your name like that, softly, almost makes you purr. You offer a small smile: "It's good to see you, Bigby."
"You too," He gives you a meaningful look. You almost wanted to give yourself up, return the file and somehow 'go back to the old days', but your prize and Bigby now working for Snow put too many things at risk. If only it were as simple as that...
You had to get out of there, fast.
You look up to him with your signature smile, the one that made his heart melt when you first met: It's vague, the message behind it is unclear, but it's a sweet little gesture: "I heard Snow took over, how are you handling that?"
He lights a cigarette and you impatiently wait for his reply, formulating your plan to get out of there- an exit: "Can't say I enjoy it to the core... Used to be easier when-"
"When you played by your own rules?" You grin at him and after putting his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, he walks back over to you.
"More or less," He scratches the back of his neck and stands to your left. "Look. Knowing you, there's always more to it than just I wanted to see you." His soft expression suddenly turns into one of worry: "Are you in trouble?"
"No, no," You reassure him. "Nothing of the sorts. Not yet, anyway..." You bite your lip again. "Well, I'm going to assume you were off to some place but I'm keeping you?"
He doesn't say anything, just sighs and you know you're right. He looks like he doesn't want you to leave, but he's also on alert. After your last encounter, he knows he can't give into you - he knows he shouldn't trust you and listen to Snow's warnings about how you're just a thief who's using him.
Most of it was true, but you still -after all your time with Bigby- cared about him. There were a lot of people who wanted to hurt the sheriff, even after he caught the Crooked Man and restored justice, somewhat; you made sure to stay away from those jobs - jobs that aimed to hurt Bigby, even in the slightest.
The disappearance of an unimportant, forgotten criminal record wasn't one of them, though.
"Call me sometime, sheriff," You get up to be on his level, boldly cupping his cheek and caressing it with your thumb. He seems enchanted- under your magic as he leans into your touch and slowly grabs your hand in his. After a moment of peace and quiet, when you hear the familiar footsteps of Snow White approaching, you lean in further and whisper: "Don't be a stranger."
You can't tell if it was him who leaned in or you, but you placed a shy, teasing kiss on his lips. You soon realise it doesn't matter who leaned in first, as he kisses you back with a little more yearning and urgency, his hands cupping the sides of your face.
Just then, you hear his door opening and you part immediately, his hands lingering in your hair. Snow probably- no, definitely saw you two share a kiss, but before she can say anything, you jump out of the window. Bigby's heart drops in panic, reaches to catch you, but soon realises you transformed to your normal form mid-air and sighs, a faint smile on his lips.
"Who was that? What's going on?" Snow inquires, hands on her hips, looking very displeased.
But Bigby's smile only grows as his fingertips trace his cheek, where you touched him seconds ago, then he finally replies: "An old friend."
#the wolf among us#bigby wolf#bigby wolf x reader#twau x reader#the wolf among us x reader#bigby wolf imagine#twau imagine#the wolf among us imagine#twau fanfiction#twau fanfic#bigby wolf fanfic#the wolf among us fanfiction
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