#I find it ironic that she's only nice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollfacefantasy · 3 months

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hi! i love your writing so much! i was wondering if you could write something with leon and a clingy reader? she just likes being held by him, and one day a make out session gets out of hand while he’s holding her so he just fucks her while standing up, not letting her get down. i don’t know if this makes sense but the thought won’t leave my head. hope you’re having a good day/night! <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you're such a needy little thing. leon can't get enough of you, and when he finds out you like being held, he has to take advantage of that.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), standing sex, daddy kink

word count: 3.9k

a/n: thank you so much for the request! i FELT this one cause i also have a thing about being held hehe. i hope it's what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are really appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

It only took Leon a couple weeks of dating to figure out that his girlfriend was exceptionally needy. He could tell you tried to suppress it to the best of your ability, control your yearning for physical contact, but it was still there. Honestly, it was obvious from the way you looked at him alone. Glossy, pleading eyes just calling out to him for some love.

At first, he was wary of this trait. He wasn’t good with affection normally. Didn’t like talking about his feelings. That stuff was just too much. He’s a busy guy already. He didn’t need extra worries in the form of a sweet thing like you rubbing your cheek against his neck, snaking your arms beneath his shirt, softly pleading “Leon, I wanna cuddle.”

But his problem was that he always gave into that stuff. Words like those hitting his ears, your pouty lips begging for his kisses, and grabby hands roaming around his body always got you what you wanted. He’d plant a smooch on your temple or forehead, grunt a quiet “c’mere then baby,” and pull you on top of him.

Time passed, and you grew on him like ivy climbing a stone wall. Your clingy nature took root somewhere inside him and drove him wild. It was addictive, feeling so needed. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone’s absolute first choice. It was nice living out his days with the subconscious idea that he was your favorite person. He could get a bit cocky about it sometimes but more than anything it made him all sappy. He couldn’t help it. He tried keeping up the cool, slick persona around you for a little while because impressing you was so important to him. But the way you looked at him made him feel like Superman. Your precious face tilted upwards to gaze at him like he was the only man you’d ever laid eyes on. It just made him wanna scoop you up and take off, soar far up into the clouds where it would just be the two of you.

So he ended up feeding into this kind of behavior one thousand percent, enabling you with no reservations. If you were sitting together, you were on his lap. Standing near each other? His arm was around you, keeping you tucked to his chest. The two of you would be lying in bed and simple cuddling just didn’t cut it anymore. No, instead, he’d be rubbing your back, nuzzling and kissing your neck, massaging your scalp. And the pet names were constant. Your actual name was only reserved for serious or special occasions. In ordinary conversations, it was always “my baby” with the intermittent “precious girl” or “princess” mixed in.

Because, from his perspective, why wouldn’t he? You both deserved this. You craved the physical affection you’d never gotten enough of while he yearned for a sweet little thing to dote on and love between the brutal DSO missions that plagued most of his time. He didn’t give a fuck if someone wanted to say it was codependent or that he was whipped. You were his baby, and if sweet tender affection was what revved your engine, what kind of man would he be to deprive you of it?

Maybe he was whipped. He wouldn’t shy away from that label. He loved you undoubtedly. His heart ached to see you smiling and laughing. Each individual cell in his body cried out to be pressed against you. But in the same breath, he’d be a liar if he said that sex played no part in his urges to coddle you.

He’d never seen a girl get as cock drunk as you. He’d warm you up with his cooing and caresses, and then all he had to do was slide a few inches in you, and you were gone. Nothing had ever gotten him so hard. It’s like your brain shut off as soon as your sweet little pussy was filled up. Really, you went the whole nine yards; whining, babbling, drooling. Your gorgeous lashes would flutter as your eyes went hazy, and you always wanted to hold his hand. Well, more specifically, you wanted him to offer his hand to you. He’d simply murmur “Aw, is it too much, princess? Here, hold daddy’s hand. That’s my girl,” and you were already cumming.

Cause that was the other part of this whole thing. Shortly after he caught on to your intense need for physical affection, he discovered your penchant for the infamous d word. The first time you’d said it, he had you pinned down to the mattress, face shoved against your pillow, hips slightly elevated while he stuffed you full of cock. You just cried it out in the same way you’d yell for God or whine “fuck.” And he rolled with it. One little word wasn’t gonna get in the way of what he’d found with you.

Beyond calling him daddy, Leon tried to take note of all the things that got you going. Sure, you were fond of physical expressions of love, and you probably wouldn’t turn down an offer from him ever. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have favorites when it came to this stuff. Leon took pride in remembering what you liked. Over the months of your relationship, he made a point to remember the specific motion you liked him to do when he rubbed your back. He burned into his mind that you liked to kiss in a way that would definitely make those over-the-top smooching noises found in network dramas. What could he say? He just wanted to do everything right for you.

Possibly his favorite thing that he discovered about you though was your love for being held. Love probably wasn’t even a strong enough word. Your affinity? Proclivity? Plain white hot need? Who fucking knows. All he knew was that you had a major thing for being wrapped up in his arms with your head on his shoulder.

The first hint he’d got at this part of you came by pure accident. He’d just arrived home from a mission, a long and taxing one at that. He’d missed you like crazy, felt as needy as you did on a daily basis, and you were practically vibrating with a longing for his touch. So when you came bounding down the hallway to meet him at the front door, he’d grabbed you by the waist, picked you up and spun you around like in an old cartoon when the prince and princess finally get their happily ever after.

Coming out of the short twirl, he’d brought you to his chest and held your body a little ways above the ground. He cradled your head to your shoulder and kept his grip tight to support you. And it wasn’t like you melted or had little hearts gleaming in your eyes, but something in your demeanor shifted.

“There’s my baby,” he muttered while smacking kisses on the side of your head.

You replied with how much you missed him, more than anything in the whole world. He laughed his deep, rumbling laugh and brought you over to the couch. You were all over him even more than normal which was really saying something. You couldn’t stop pecking his face or pushing up against him. Next thing he knew, you were tugging at his belt and taking his dick down your throat.

“Fuck, precious. don’t gotta choke yourself. It’s not goin’ anywhere,'' he hummed while tilting his head back against the couch. You weren’t normally so forward. You were always needy, but typically, you waited for him to initiate. It was much more your style to drop hints that you were in the mood and wait for him to pick up on your signals, but this time you just went for it.

He stroked the back of your head while you bobbed your head, taking him deeper each time. Groans fell from his lips, and his hips jolted in small twitches. Your saliva seeped out over your soft lips and dribbled down to his balls. You had never lacked enthusiasm before, but now you were taking him like his cock was the best treat you’d ever had.

He could barely stand the sight of you in that moment. Cute eyes drooping while your cheeks hollowed. Once he heard the muted sound of you gagging, he was done for. Shot his load deep in your throat in what would have been an embarrassingly short amount of time if you were anyone else. But you swallowed it all without any complaints and then crawled into his lap to cuddle some more. As you curled up to his chest, he knew something he did struck a chord with you to get you so eager.

So naturally, he tried picking you up again a couple days later. He had to know if that was a fluke or if it really was a thing. This time it was much more intentional, but he still played it off as a teasing gesture. He scooped you up from behind while you were fidgeting with something in the kitchen, expecting a whiny chorus of “Leon!” and “Stop, put me down!” But you didn’t say either. You let out a soft squeak and a quiet “What are you doing?”

“Just giving you a hug, baby,” he teased and situated you in his embrace so your front was pressed to his.

Almost immediately, as if your skull was magnetized, your head fell to his shoulder. Your limbs tightened around him a little and you took a deep breath like you wanted to commit his scent to memory. You didn’t even complain about him pulling you away from whatever task had been occupying your attention.

“This isn’t a hug,” you’d said softly.

“Says who? Seems like a hug to me, got my arms around you,” he responded with a small kiss to your temple.

His hand rose to your head and cradled it against his shoulder as your legs locked around his waist. He stood there with you for a moment just taking in the embrace. It was as if he could feel you melt against his body.

“A hug is when we’re both standing,” you say quietly while slotting your face in the warm crook of his neck.

“Yeah? You look that up in the dictionary or something?” he mutters in return.

When he had a firm hold on you, he walked you through the living room, taking the long way up to the bedroom to give his little experiment some time to play out. You rested quietly in his grasp as he navigated past furniture. He ran his free hand up and down your back as he moved, his other one planted firmly on your thigh to support you.

After the two of you reached the bedroom, he set you down on the bed and climbed in after you. His fingers coasted across your cheek as he looked down into your eyes, studying you in a way. He was still curious about what was going through your head. Again, him holding you like that had led to some of the best sex the two of you’d had, but there was something deeper there too. This wasn’t just a cheat code to get you to drop your panties. There was an emotional part of this too. He could tell.

“So you like when I pick you up, hm?” he’d asked.

You looked up at him from your spot against his chest, glowing a bit as you came down from the high. “I guess,” you answered with a tiny shrug.

He’d chuckled at your attempt to be casual and just dropped the subject matter. Your reasons were probably sensitive to you. Located in a deep, private cavern of your heart that was too guarded for you to let even him in yet. And that was ok with him. For now, he’d just chalk it up to some desire on an instinctual level. It was just something that made you tick, and it became something he did for you from time to time when you needed that extra level of care.

This evening, the two of you had been watching some movie. To be honest, Leon didn’t even remember what it was called at this point because he didn’t really wanna watch it in the first place. He was much more interested in you. You had just started it up as he arrived home from running some errands though, so he didn’t want to be rude and ask you to shut it off just because he was horny. Instead, he flopped down next to you on the couch.

A small laugh bubbles from your lips as he pulls you to him and kisses down the side of your face, murmuring for you to explain what’s going on in the thing you were watching. You ramble on about the story, telling him that it’s the end of the world and these guys are trapped in this house, and that one is friends with that one but hates the other one, and blah blah blah. He loved you to death, but he just couldn’t care less about that right now. He hums along with a stream alternating between “mhm” and “oh yeah.”

Your laughter increases as his kisses become more distracting. He nips at the skin of your throat and litters your soft skin with love bites. His tongue laves at your neck as his nose coasts over your flesh. After a while, your own interest in the movie begins to dwindle. You turn your head and plant some smooches on his face, enticing him to tilt his head upwards. The two of you meet in the middle, connecting your lips.

Mouths move in sync, tongues brush each other, and soon enough, your seat’s been abandoned in favor of your true favorite spot. You’re parked on his lap, the lush flesh of your ass flush against his semi-hard bulge. His hand slithers up your back underneath your shirt to rub up and down your spine while pulling you closer. Your breathing gets heavier, and you’re practically panting when you two finally pull away for a break. Your lips are wet with spit and a little puffy from making out. He drags his thumb over your bottom one as he smirks at your glazed eyes.

“Think you’d be ok with finishing this later?” he asks.

To his pleasure, you’re quick to accept the offer with a nod. “Seen it before anyways,” you admit and lean back in for more kisses.

He chuckles into your mouth and boosts you up without even turning the tv off. He’s stumbling to the bedroom, and you’re latched onto him like a little spidermonkey or something. He knew well by now that being carried took your brain to that sweet spot of utter submission, but today you were on something else entirely. You were getting whiny between kisses. He was having to support you extra because your hands were trying to slide in between the two of you and get at his pants. He assumed it was cause he got you riled up before picking you up, but he didn’t lament about it too much. He wasn’t thinking with his head right now.

All your squirming around nearly made him trip and topple the both of you to the ground. He grunts and shifts you around, trying to get you to settle down at least till you reach the bedroom. You wouldn’t let up though, continuing on with your impatient hip rocking and greedy fingers. He’s sure he’s about to fall over and one of you is moments away from serious injury, so he totters a few steps over and secures you against the wall.

“Jesus, you’d think I’d just got back from a war or something,” he breathes.

You laugh, but keep up your neediness. “Just want you so bad. Missed my daddy all day,” you murmur.

“Yeah? I know it’s hard being away from me. Your little head’s just not cut out for all that thinking is it?” he coos condescendingly, “This is how you're meant to be, just attached to daddy, letting him take care of everything while you tag along.”

“Mhm,” you nod and kiss him again. He can feel you smiling against his lips.

“Yeah, so how bout you do me a favor then and stop wriggling around so much. You wanna get dropped on your head so thinking isn’t even an option anymore?” he teases.

“No. I just…” you whimper defensively. A smile spreads across your face as you hide your face at the base of his neck. “I just want you… really bad.”

That was a tone Leon knew well by now. That was the tone of the guessing game. It was the voice you used when you wanted something but were too shy to just ask for it. So Leon had to decipher your signals and figure out what that thing was. Luckily, this time around it was pretty simple.

“Really bad? Like pinned down in the middle of the hallway while I’m stuffing you full of cum bad?” he asks.

“Sorta…” you say.

With an amused shake of his head, he thinks a little more. The stuffed full of cum thing was a given. So what was off? He was thinking through this as if searching for a missing puzzle piece. He runs through different scenarios before it clicks. He laughs a little. It was kind of obvious once he had it.

“Oh, of course not. There’s no way you’d choose to be out of my arms. What was I thinking?” he says, exaggerating his cadence, “So you want it standing?”

You nod, and with the right answer, that little smile feels so much sweeter. He leans harder into you, keeping you by pressing you between him and the wall. Giving you a few messy kisses, he finally undoes his pants and pushes them down to his mid-thigh. He was fully hard now. You could feel it as he rolled his hips against your center.

“Lucky you’re wearing a skirt, nice and easy for me,” he hums.

He bunches up the fabric around your waist before dragging his fingers over your panties, feeling how they were damp. He smirks against your lips while applying more pressure, seeking out your swollen clit.

“Already so wet, baby,” he chides, “Is this how you get while I’m not with you? Can’t think of anything but daddy cause your pretty pussy’s just crying for some more attention.”

“Yeah, need you to make the ache go away,” you say in a breathy whimper.

“I know you do,” he coos.

It’s a bit difficult in this position, but Leon manages to remove the last barriers of cloth separating the two of you. He lines up his dick with your entrance and slides home. Now it’s his head that falls on your shoulder as he groans. His stance didn’t really allow him to ease in. He was balls deep in the first stroke. You let out a long satisfied moan.

Taking a moment to readjust, he gets his elbows hooked under the bends of your knees. You’re basically bent in half, his cock to your cervix. This angle felt even deeper too. Your walls pulse around him as you work to accommodate the length.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Every part of you clings to me,” he grunts before taking a step away from the wall.

Losing the stability behind your back had you rocking and shifting more, causing his tip to nudge against all those sweet spots. Your thighs quiver as Leon gets into a rhythm and figures out how to bounce you on his cock like his. The sound of your skin meeting floats down the hallway. You whine and whimper, your eyes roll back as your head tilts the same direction.

He could tell you were loving it. Your favorite place to be combined with your favorite feeling in the entire world. There was nothing his sweet girl loved more than being stuffed full of cock and held by him.

“Feeling good, princess? Is daddy fucking you just how you wanted?” he asks.

“Mhm, mhm, mhm,” you whimper and nod dumbly.

“Good,” he says. He focuses on working himself in and out of you. His mind is locked on the sensation of your slick coating his shaft and collecting at the base, dripping down to his balls. But more words fill his mind and rush to his mouth to be let out. “This is why you’re so needy, right baby? You just need some cock in you or you get so frustrated. Can’t even think straight without your fill, can you?”

You shake your head wildly. Your legs tense over his arms. His hands dig into your back to keep you supported. You see his biceps flexing beneath his sleeves as he uses his strength to hold you up. He rocks you on his cock, back and forth, sliding himself in and out. You’re gasping and trembling more noticeably now. He knows you’re approaching the peak.

“Doing so good for me, precious,” he murmurs, “Keep squeezing me like that so I can fill you up just how you need.”

Your noises become more desperate. It feels as though you get even tighter. Leon slams into you deeper than you could remember. But then again, in this state, your memory wasn’t worth much. Pumping in and out, he sees your eyes squeeze show, your mouth widening into that cute familiar shape it always made when you came.

“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess for daddy,” he groans.

You do as he says, following your orders. You seize up and moan, long and loud. He tightens his grip and takes a step closer to the wall to ensure your high isn’t cut by falling. His hips don’t stop though. He feels that tensing in his belly. Gritting his teeth, he pounds you over and over until he has to stumble back to the wall.

You hit the surface with a thud, but he’s a little too busy to notice. He growls and whimpers into your neck, hips working at a more strained pace as he tries to grab that brief euphoria. A few thrusts later and release is washing over him. He fucks you full, going deep and staying true to his word about filling you up. He pumps every last drop in.

You slowly slide down in his arms till he lets go of your legs and your feet can touch the ground again. Looking up at him as he comes down, you watch his features melt into the relaxation of post-release. You lean up and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. His eyes open and look down at you. A lazy smile spreads on his face and moves in to return the gesture.

“So how’d I do?” he asks with that smug look you loved so much.

“Perfect like always,” you answer, genuine in contrast to his teasing. You step forward on wobbly legs, grabbing his hand to finish your trip to the bedroom together. He leans down and smacks a kiss on your neck.

“Clearly not perfect enough if you’re walking on your own now,” he purrs in your ear.

You smile and look down. “There’s still time to fix that,” you offer.

“Of course there is,” he agrees with a light swat to your ass. He pecks your lips once more before following you through the entryway to your shared room.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #smut

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goldsbitch · 30 days

Text

My name

Busy schedules don't allow Y/N and her boyfriend Lando Norris much down time to chill with her friends. But missing a wedding is a no go.

fluffy fluff, wedding, one shot, for the vibes only

It was almost a stroke of luck that Y/N's friends managed to pick a date for their wedding on a day that Lando could attend. This was a rare opportunity, while she accompanied him often during his events or outings, more than often he was unable to be there as her partner on her personal affairs.

Missed family gatherings, friends birthdays and grill parties. She accepted that part of their relationship, with the hope that in the future, it might come to change. They'd been dating for two years now - if she had to pick the brightest days of her life so far, it would in this time frame.

There was lot of excitement in the late summer air. One of her best friends was marrying a guy she became good buddy with over the years. And Lando would finally be joining her, as her partner. No more half smiles following the question "Would Lando join us this time?". These two friends marrying each other were a nice inspiration for the kind of relationship Y/N strived for. And Lando was that for her - a partner, lover, friend and the one to always make her laugh. But some of the people in her life were not convinced that he was good for her, mainly for the lack of his presence. She did not want the opinions of other to spoil their relationship. However, it would be a lie to say that her heart wasn't jumping around with happiness at the prospect of having him join them.

Her friends organized their dream wedding in a lovely estate somewhere in South of France. Small village remote from any city, safe from any prying eyes. It was refreshing from the flashing lights of racing tracks. Eighty people, all mostly friends with each other.

Y/N came in earlier with the main couple, in order to help them put everything in place. Two days of hard work navigating typical struggled of wedding organizing, with tomorrow being the big day. Regular guest were coming in, but she was only waiting for him, counting every minute.

Those prep days were packed with dealing with logistics and all this wedding usually concern. Going back and forth and trying to make everything perfect for the main event. But, she manages to find a moment of solutide to take in the beauty, the smell of late harvest, sun kissed valleys and heavy summer air, that set everything in. Having the bottom of your dress shiver with light breeze is the epitome of bliss. Life was good. And for the main part, she would get to experience all this with her love around her arm.

The two getting married? They were something else.

"Babe, what the fuck are these glasses?" said the bride to be as she watched the caterers setting up table for an evening dinner buffet.

"Well, you said yes, to them, remember? Back in May," was how the groom replied hastily. Y/N watched, knowing well enough that the strange looking glasses that were too big for her friends small hands were definitely not what the bride would have picked. She smirked as she watched them bicker playfully.

"They look like some futuristic ashtrays," the bride continued, shooting arrows playfully at he soon to be husband.

"Hm. Isn't that cool?" he said, trying to talk himself out of it. They were both strong opinionated people, so this was not a rare debate.

"No? How do you think this suits our late summer garden vibe?" she said, pointing around to the fields.

"You said yes to them, I remember specifically..." he defended without a beat.

"My mom's going to think we smoke."

"Well...we could use them as ashtrays," he said, inspecting the items.

The bride threw her hands up, not believing the game her "soon to be" was playing. "Babe, we don't smoke!"

He mimicked her hand gesture ironically. "We could start!"

"Just admit you've made a fuck up, honey, and we're good."

"That will never happen. This is all part of the plan."

Y/N observed and chucked, knowing well enough that the best thing to do was to stay out of their way.

A small quiet whisper came from behind Y/N. "Is this how they always act?" Shiver down her spine. She smiled, because she could recognize that voice anywhere. Heard it thousand times in the morning, in the middle of a busy day and on too many late night phone call to count. She turned her head slightly only to find him standing right behind her, his head now resting on her shoulder.

"Hi, muppet," he continued as he wrapped his hands around her, hugging her from behind. "I'm sorry I am a little late. Turbulences held us up."

The two stood there, as young lovers would. Completely wrapped in their own world.

"Did they? I completely lost track, as you see, big problems over here," she said and pointed inconspicuously to the couple still bickering about glasses. It wasn't technically true, she managed to get her phone out every other minute as they were unpacking stuff. But that was too embarrassing to admit.

She finally turned around to give him a welcome kiss, a much needed physical contact after not seeing him for almost three weeks. "Do you think we could take a walk around the garden? I would to get my head clear before facing other people," he said sheepishly. The last few race weekends had been very tough on him.

"I would be more than happy," she replied with a smile.

The scenery was too good to be true. Never ending fields of trees, heavy air sitting on the top of everyone trying to breathe and smell of hot soil and dried leaves cut though it all. They walked hand in hand in silence for a while, the sound of cracking branches accompanying them with every step. These two had spoken a lot in the past few weeks, every day it was either a phone call of few videos shared mapping their separate days. Texting was not good enough for these two. Lando was pretty much touch starved. Even though he was touched by random people more than an average person would be, as some fans felt like it was ok to do so. It made him miss the consensual touch he shared with his girlfriend more than ever. Girlfriend was an interesting word, felt outdated for the feelings he had for her. A small box had been accompanying him whenever he saw her for a while now. But he figured that highjacking someone else's wedding with his own proposal was a bit rude and selfish. He was grateful that this time he did not bring the box with him, as he was not sure he'd be able to resist proposing when he saw how the light reflected from her hair made it all shine, like a fresh jar of honey. A white dress would definitely suit her and his last name as well. He knew she'd want to keep her maiden name too and was more than fine with that. But to add "Norris" behind it was his ultimate goal.

"You seem more quiet than usual," she asked after a moment, being more than capable of reading his face. He was slowly letting go of his stress from the races.

"I'm loosing myself in the thoughts about your dress," he replied cheekily, letting her think he is talking about the teal summer dress she was wearing at the moment.

"Are you, now?" she winked and pulled her dress up slightly, only stopping at her bikini line.

"Oh, you can't do that to me," he said, defeated.

"You sure?" She stopped walking, came closer to him and put her arm around his neck. "But it's been so long since you've touched me," she added, knowing this will set him off. Teasing and seducing him was like a second language to her. She god real close and rubbed her core against his crotch.

"You're asking for trouble, Ms....Y/L/N," he nearly had a Freudian slip there. He panicked slightly and decided to kiss her immediately. She didn't seem to notice. Once he calmed down a bit he slid his hand down to he legs and the went back up to cup her ass and pulling her dress up again. "I would have you right here and now," he mumbled into their kiss and she smiled. Absolutely in love.

"We'll have to wait until the evening, we have a very nice room..."

"I don't care about that, I want to cum into you right here and now," he continued and bit her upper lip lightly.

"Anyone could walk by," she kept resisting.

"As if I care."

She laughed and broke their kiss. "We have to go now. I still have to help the poor bride with the decorations."

He signed overly dramatically. "You are making my life a living hell, Y/N."

"You can punish me later," she ended and got out of his embrace and started heading back to the estate. "Come on," she instructed as Lando watched her ass as she walked away. Norris. It's going to suit her.

Evening marked shared laughter, catching up with many friends, local wine with cheese and hands held under the table. Only once it was really happening did Y/N started to notice how much she needed this. Being able to "show" Lando off to her friends for longer than a short appearance. They got to finally know him, not only listen to stories about him. Oh and he was marvelous that evening. Charming, funny, criminally handsome - and always by her side. He was happy to be there. One of the reason being finally able to listen to the people she spoke about, but also to let loose and not have to think about what he says. These were no sponsors, interviewers or teammates. He loved that they cared about her more than him. It was a nice change. And he was on board with that, enjoying the fact that she was the star and not him.

The wedding day had swung by in a blur and suddenly, Y/N and Lando were sitting in a small local chapel, watching her friends making a mark on their relationship.

But Lando was not watching them. He was watching his now girlfriend. With the sight he had in the corner of his eye, the thoughts hanging in the back of his mind were getting louder and louder.

The ceremony was a non serious and cheerful one, the priest making many jokes while still keeping the atmosphere together. As far as ceremonies go, this was an honest one. The only thing to bring people out the holy romantic vibe this gave off was an unapologetically explicit kiss the bride and groom shared as they got wed. It was more like watching drunk teenagers make out. Some people laughed, some people cheered and the rest were slightly mortified. Y/N was one of the people to turn their heads away from the sight, she had known this girl ever since they were kids, this was a little too much. Lando found her reaction amusing, as he had heard many stories of her and her friend to know that she'd witnessed way more extreme things. "Look at you, prude," he whispered to her ear as he watched the bride and groom fight with their tongues.

"I refuse to accept this," Y/N said, keeping it up with the grandmas in the room.

"Well, if this repulses you, then I'm afraid you're going to die of embarrassment at our wedding," he said as if it was no big deal. But to Y/N it was. They had joked about marriage few times, but Lando used a different tone of voice this time. But she had been secretly dreaming about it for a while now.

"You're going to have tie me down if you're planning on doing that," she said, pointing at the pair, not quite sure how to process that he was probably thinking about their marriage too.

"So far, you've never said no to my plans," he winked at her.

Y/N smiled and turned her eyes to the ground. If someone had asked why she smiled so much, she'd say it was because of her friend's wedding. Though it would only be one half of the truth. She held his hand, as they walked out of the church. For some reason, it almost felt like a rehearsal.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #meet cute #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n

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asuyaka · 6 months

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Gojo-Sensei has a husband?!

★ - drabble s part of m' first Satoru oneshot !!૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

☆ - Gojo Satoru x Househusband! Reader

♡ - f m' manga readers, how we feelin' 'bout nurse kenny ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ (she's m wife m callin' it rn!!)

Gojo [Name], the loved and unknown husband of The Strongest, Gojo Satoru.

Satoru was at work, most likely teaching the first years he loved to talk about. You were at home. Cleaning the house and making preparations for dinner when Satoru got home like the good husband you were.

You brought out a chicken broth cube from the cupboard, brushing the slight dust on your pretty light-blue apron that Satoru brought for you (then ended up fucking you in but that's on days when you're being a brat).

Your eyes scan the countertop, looking for the knife holder until they land on a sage-green bag dusted with flowers that you hand-painted. It was Satoru's lunch bag that he had forgotten.

You weren't a sorcerer, but you're able to see curses. Ironically, that's how you and Satoru met. A younger you (who just got unemployed) was walking home when something you couldn't describe stopped you in the alleyway you took sometimes as a shortcut.

It was tall, with eyes running along its skinny, dark-red arm. You were only twenty-two at the time and have only ever seen things like that in shitty horror-flicks. You never thought they were real.

As if you were in a cliché love story, a patch of white hair stands in front of you. He has sunglasses on despite the sun being nowhere in sight.

Due to you being (obviously) weaker than the average sorcerer, Satoru always discouraged you from going to Jujutsu High unless it was an emergency.

You huff diligently, grabbing the lunch bag and putting your shoes on. You'll make sure Satoru gets his lunch. What kind of husband would you be if you didn't?

Turns out, the people at Jujutsu High are either scary or odd. There's absolutely no in-between.

You've only been at Jujutsu High a handful of times. More times than not, it was to help Megumi.

You make your way to the main school building, holding the bag close to your chest for safekeeping. You didn't bust your ass making cute shapes out of food just for Satoru to go eat fast food instead.

Reaching the door of Satoru's class, you knock softly. It’s quiet, and you guess Satoru must be out training with his students. You turned around to try and find just where the training grounds could be on this huge campus.

All of a sudden, the door opens and there he is. Your beautiful husband, wearing his black blindfold and Jujutsu uniform. “Baby? What are you doing here?”

Baby. That’s right, you’re his baby. No one else's. “You left your lunch, so I…” Your voice trails off as you gesture toward the bag in your hands. Satoru smiles, opening the door wider and pulling you in.

He keeps your hands intertwined, softly pushing you against a chair. “You’re so nice, baby. Going out of your way to bring me my lunch?” His hands are on your cheeks now, still smiling sweetly even with a saccharine voice.

Your face flushes and your hands are stiff. You don’t know where his students are, but you’re sure they’ll be back soon. This is risky— irresponsible even.

“Satoru, ‘s risky..” You mutter under your breath, your hands cupping his. They’re warm like they always are when you two are close. You wish you could see what his eyes looked like, but they’re for his comfortability, you’re aware.

“You know I love you, right baby?” He leans closer, to the point you can smell the cologne on him. It’s the one you bought him a few weeks ago because it smelt like home.

Satoru smells like home.

Shakily you nod. “Are you sure this is safe…? I don’t want you—”

“Shh… let me worry about all that.”

And with that, he closes the space between your lips. Satoru’s strong– dominant even; and no matter what he does, it always manages to show through his actions.

His tongue breaches past your lips, slotting perfectly against yours. You can hear the clicking of teeth as Satoru sits across your lap. It’s hot and you can feel your cock start to rise in your pants.

“Wore this cute fuckin’ apron all f’me–” He plants a kiss on your cheek, your face flushed and breathing heaved.

“Satoru– sir, I need—”

“But baby…” He whines.

He fucking whines.

His face is pouty and it looks like he’s getting off your lap. Is he denying you? You haven’t done anythin’ wrong– did he give you instructions and you didn’t see them?

“I’m at work, and as much as I want to fuck you ‘till you can’t think– you can’t have my students seein’ you all messed up like that, can you?”

Satoru’s words bring your attention to your appearance. Your apron is messed up and so is your hair (most likely from Satoru gripping on it). Your lips are slightly swollen and your cock is half-hard.

Embarrassment brings you back to your senses, your arms covering what's between your thighs. If you stood up, your apron would cover it (hopefully), but your pants weren’t going to do you any justice. “‘M sorry ‘toru…”

Satoru cocks his head, sitting on his desk and crossing his legs. “It’s okay baby, I know you just can’t help yourself when I’m around.” His tone sounds mean like he’s mocking you. It’s condescending.

“But that’s what makes you my good boy, isn’t it?” His foot brings the chair closer to the point where your body is sandwiched between his legs. “Always so plaint f’me to fuck you, right?”

God. You can’t do this, and it isn’t helping your slowly growing problem go down.

Satoru must sense your nervousness (he knows you and your emotions like the back of your hand) because his expression turns soft again. “Just wait till I get home, okay baby? Relax for me.”

His fingers caress your cheek gently. It’s lulling you, pulling you in. Like he’s a siren, and you’re a plaint, very easy sailor.

You nod because you’re his good boy and you want it to stay that way.

Satoru smiles before pulling you in again for a kiss.

It’s gentler this time. There’s less kiss and more gentleness behind it. It feels like the kiss you shared at the altar. It makes you calmer, it makes you happy.

All of a sudden, the door slams open. Revealing three, very surprised teenagers.

“Gojo-sensei!?”

“Gojo-san?”

Satoru breaks the kiss, briefly smiling coyly at you before looking at his students. “Hello, my favorite first-years! I didn’t know lunch had already ended…”

A boy with pink hair and what seems to be two sets of eyes stares at you, then back at Satoru. “Lunch ended five minutes ago. Nobara stayed to eat more watermelon.”

The girl, who is shorter than all of them and who you assume is Nobara, kicks the boy in the knee. “Shut it Yuuji! Not my fault somebody decided to eat all my food while I was gone!”

“Gojo-san, I thought you’d be at home.”Megumi looks at you with a confused expression. Your heart tugs in fondness when he says ‘home’ like all three of you share it together (legally, you do but Megumi would never admit that).

“Why would Gojo-sensei be at home? He has to teach us, stupid.” Nobara rolls her eyes, before pointing at you accusingly.

“All I wanna know is why this random man and Gojo-sensei were kissing!”

Satoru steps off the desk, grabs your arm, and pulls you up as well. He slings his arm around your shoulder, slightly leaning on you with a bright smile on his face. “Yuuji, Nobara, this is my husband, [Name]!”

“Husband?!” Yuuji and Nobara parrot, staring at each other before staring back at you.

Nobara notices it first, the sleek ring on your finger. There’s an initial that she can’t make out but can only assume it’s the one that belongs to her teacher.

“Why would anyone date you?” She says suddenly, causing Yuuji to laugh.

Megumi rolls his eyes. “I thought that at first too. Gojo-san is too good for him.”

Satoru gasps. “Rude! You cried during our wedding, or do I have to ask [Name] to pull up the photos?”

“Wedding?! Why wasn’t I invited?” Nobara looks at Satoru like he committed a war crime.

You don’t notice it, but somehow Yuuji is right in front of you. “Hello! I’m super glad Gojo-sensei has someone to love!! He’s always saying something about how he misses his ‘hubby’ randomly during class but we never thought he was being serious!”

You smile bashfully. You never thought Satoru would think of you during work, and for him to call you his “hubby”?

Megumi stands beside him, handing you a book. “That’s because Gojo-sensei can’t shut up. They’re so lovey-dovey behind closed doors it makes me sick.”

Yuuji smiles. “That’s ‘cause they’re in love Megumi! Shouldn’t it be sweet that your dads love each other?”

Megumi frowns. “They aren’t my dads.”

“They totally are! You called Gojo-sensei dad one time during a mission, don’t think I’d ever forget that!” Nobara teases, holding Satoru’s ring in her other hand to presumably examine it.

Satoru claps his hands. “Okkayy! I appreciate that you two love my husband, not as much as me of course, but he’s got stuff to do! And we have to learn about the boring sorcerer families. Ew.”

His students groan but make their way to their seats. Satoru walks you to the door of the classroom, a small apologetic smile on his face. “I can’t walk you all the way to the door, Yaga would kill me, but I’ll see you at home?”

You nod with a soft smile on your face.

Satoru kisses you one last time. It’s more of a peck than anything, then leans into your ear. “Prep yourself for me before I get home okay? I have to reward you for being so good today.”

Blush rises up to your cheeks as you nod again. Pushing your hands down to your lap and turning away from his classroom door. The blush gets harder when you hear a loud “See you at home baby!” from the door.

Satoru watches you until he can’t anymore. A relieved sigh leaves his face as he closes the door and sits on his desk. Legs crossed and a ring adorning his finger, with your initials on them.

“Ask away, and I’ll show you any pictures you want.”

Yuuji and Nobara visibly light up and begin asking questions about where he met you, how long you’ve been together, and how long you’ve been married, plus the pictures of Megumi crying.

He shows them every photo and answers every question without hesitation.

After all, they’re all questions about you, his husband.

And he knows you’ll be home waiting for him with dinner, and dessert.

Your ass (that he loves to watch jiggle every time he fucks you), and ice cream.

He loves you, and he’s glad his students (and son) love you too.

#ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 — ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴ' ᴍᴀɴɢᴀ #jjk x male reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x male reader #satoru x male reader #jjk fluff #gojo #gojo satoru #male reader #x male reader #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #gojo satoru x male reader

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attapullman · 1 month

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Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops

A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘

Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.

You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.

The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.

From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend.

To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps.

He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.

You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.

She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.

The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.

Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.

W-why was Bob in your villa?

Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”

Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.

“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you.

Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix.

You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”

“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always.

You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.

Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”

God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”

Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.

“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.

You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.

“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”

You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”

“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”

Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?

And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.

Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.

Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation.

Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.

“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”

You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?

Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”

You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”

Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”

Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”

“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.

“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”

You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.

And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher.

“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”

“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.

You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.

And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.

Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?

And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”

It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar.

Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.

There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.

Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.

“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men.

You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”

She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”

You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.

By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.

You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.

In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.

Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin.

This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.

You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest.

He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.

When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.

Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.

While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.

And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.

His eyes were so blue without his glasses…

Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.

The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after.

The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out.

You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor.

Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along.

You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.

Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.

“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.

The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock.

Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.

While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly.

“What are you pretending to do?”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”

Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck.

“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited.

His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.

When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers.

You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”

“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.

The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.

He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.

“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.

Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.

The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.

Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.

It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.

When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.

A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.

You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”

He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.

“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”

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jaylver · 2 months

Text

ROCKLAND — P.SH

synopsis: almost like a nightmare, park sunghoon plagues your present just as much as your past regrets had done. however, this time around, you and him decided to right your wrongs one last time.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: exes to lovers, miscommunications, angst, second chance romance

warning(s): profanities, brief mentions of smoking, drinking, partying and alcohol

wc: 8k

a/n: i'm BACK. this has been in the works for far too long because of the constant writer's block so i'm not sure if it's good or not, plus it's my first exes to lovers so please be nice <3 greatly inspired by gracie abram's "rockland", so do give it a listen too! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

If there was one thing you’d regret forever in this lifetime, it would be ending things with the love of your life.

You admit it, you’re selfish. Selfish for wanting to leave the town you grew to hate, selfish for prioritising yourself and chasing your dreams, choosing to leave the people you loved instead. Painted a villain in the eyes of many close to the person you once went home to and even the man himself. But, how could he fully blame you when he was equally selfish too?

Park Sunghoon thought keeping you in the cage of this small town was going to make him a happy man. He often fantasised about the possibility of you and his future together, completely pushing aside the thought of you leaving, until it actually happened.

He was angry. He let himself be consumed by his own feelings and mindlessly projecting his anger and blame on you, while you regretfully did the same.

Pools of tears and venomous words spewed out of impulse left you scarred and broken down. It was a bad ending that you’d see in movies coming to life. The moment you had everything packed and goodbyes said, you figured leaving was for the best, now that your ex hates you and his friends who probably felt the same.

It was a shame, though. Heading to somewhere far from home with a heavy heart knowing you didn’t have the chance to see him once more. Frankly, you were a coward, and so was he.

That explained why returning back home was the scariest thing you had to face in a while.

It was ironic, wasn't it? Coming back to the place you wished for years to escape and actually doing so, but eventually having to return after you dropped out of the college that you've been praying and praying to get into, only for it to be overwhelming and the city lights couldn't compare to the starry night of your hometown.

You suppose you got the thing you wanted, but it just wasn't what you imagined.

Freshly twenty-two and out of school, you figured home was what you needed in your next step before deciding if you should re enrol. However, you find yourself not having the guts to face your family and friends, not after the promises turned out to be empty.

"You should quit smoking,"

Yunjin, your cousin and practically your closest friend growing up, was just a distance away when you spotted her, leaning against her car with a cigarette in hand. You found it amusing how she didn't cave into vapes instead in this day and age.

"Y/N!" She pushed the bud of her half smoked cigarette into the wall, then started jogging towards you, her dress flowing in the wind and boots making obnoxious clicks against the ground. There was a sense of relief in her eyes, her usual smile that you missed graced your presence. "God, I missed you, things aren't the same without you here,"

In the span of a few seconds of her hug, you took the chance to digest her words. Did that mean the traditions you've upheld are now gone? Parties, trips to the beach, all those?

"What?"

Yunjin pulled away, still managing a small smile. "I don't think things were ever the same since you left … and after you broke up with Sunghoon,"

You blinked, looking away into the distance. "I don't think I'll be welcomed,"

Yunjin scoffed, slapping your arm and scurrying to get your bags. "Don't say that! So not true. Everyone in the family is waiting for you to be back—"

"And talk behind my back about my failure in graduating? Yeah, no,"

‘‘That’s not going to happen,” Yunjin sighed, struggling with your bags and declining your help, but you still forcefully grabbed some knowing she’d eventually crumble. “I think they’ll get it,”

Would they?

Once you are settled into the car, bags successfully loaded into the trunk, you let yourself melt into the comforts of Yunjin’s passenger seat, finally getting to close your eyes and drift away. You thought it was best before having to face everything and everyone once again.

“What’s your plan now, anyway?”

Without opening your eyes, you envisioned a distant image in your head. “Take my time off and see if I’d like to re enrol or not. If I don’t, I’ll just go plan B,”

“Which is?”

“Accept the job offer in London,”

Yunjin almost hit the brakes out of shock, the news that came from you felt like it had hit her in the face, but somehow, she managed to keep her cool and not get you both killed. “What?” she shrieked.

“What?” you questioned back, sounding nonchalant as if this was just another normal offer that didn’t seem particularly significant. But it was.

“You have a job offer in London and you’re coming back here,”

“I left the city for a reason, it’d be stupid to go to another one right after,”

Yunjin exhaled, blinking in stupor. “Right,”

“How’s … everyone?”

Yunjin knew you weren’t referring to your family. Of course you’d know how your own family was doing, that’s a no brainer. What you were trying to mean was your old friend group. You couldn’t blame them for being mad at you, after all you were only a part of it because of Sunghoon.

“Heeseung’s graduating soon,” this was the first update you’ve gotten from Yunjin after those years away. It took you every will not to ask her about them, but here you were now, finally giving in. “They’re still the same, nothing’s changed,”

“What about him?”

Yunjin seemed hesitant, obviously holding back something that she didn’t want you to know. “I’m not going to explode upon hearing, you know that, right?” you joked lightheartedly, but secretly dreading hearing about him.

“I think he’s seeing someone,”

“Good for him,”

Would it be a crime to admit that you still missed your ex? Something in you was wishing you could rekindle a connection again now that you’re back, but all that hope shattered. If he had already moved on, why couldn’t you? Even after knowing how he probably hated and resented you for doing what you did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate him back.

“That’s all?”

“You want me to go full crazy ex mode? You’re insane,” you shook your head, smiling a little, hoping Yunjin didn’t notice the speck of sadness swimming in your irises. “Whoever she is, I’m sure that I would like her … if I were slightly nicer,”

She let out a ‘tch’ in response, though grinning. “What are you going to do with them around? There’s no way you’d be able to fully avoid them,”

“What can I do? I’ll just have to coexist.”

Coexist was a funny word. How were you able to do that when you couldn’t even fully get over Sunghoon in the first place? Thinking about meeting him in flesh already made you feel like doubling over and projectile vomit. That was how pathetic you were, what a shame.

Settling in was easy. It was natural to be back home, way better than being in the noisy city and constantly surrounded by a bunch of fake friends. The question of why you left in the first place started burning your mind as you tossed around trying to sleep, but it only persisted to bug you. Then came the thoughts of Sunghoon and the friends you left behind, which prompted you to be fully awake, sitting up in bed.

It wasn't the greatest idea to reach for your phone and search for his contact name, just to recall the day you deleted his number. Yet, your memory never failed you, remembering the digits like it was first instinct, fingers already typing his number. Your thumb hovered over the green call button, a haze in your mind.

Inevitably, you shut your phone and dug your head into your pillow. He would've laughed then, if he had seen this happen, the exact moment of you almost caving in and finally saying the sorry you never gave him.

The pictures you saw of him on social media here and there made you wonder how he was and if he had already forgotten about you. There were a few recurring appearances of a girl that seemed to linger by his side in group pictures that caught your eyes. Who took your bed when you left? Who laughed at everything that he said? Was it that girl?

Just like the time you first had a crush on Sunghoon, you stayed awake thinking about him, except this time around, you were filled with regret instead of hope.

"Heeseung asked me about you,"

Yunjin's random confession in the middle of the day had surprised you. Lee Heeseung, the best friend of your ex who you swore hated your guts, asked about you? Shocker.

"What did you say?"

"I said something along the lines of you figuring out life and just chilling here until the time comes," Yunjin shrugged, and you nodded slowly. "But there's something he said that made me a bit … confused?"

"What?"

"He said they wanted to see you again,"

You raised your eyebrows, a hint of scepticism flashed over your eyes. "They want to see me? Tell me a better joke next time, thanks,"

"I'm not joking! I mean, he did say excluding Sunghoon, but the other guys wanted to know how you were now that you're back," Yunjin winced a little at the mention of your ex, but you waved it off.

"Are they treating me to dinner or something?"

"Well … no. But Heeseung asked me to bring you to their next party, which is in a few days," Yunjin's gaze softened, hand patting your back. "You know you don't have to come if you don't want to. I mean, after all that happened with you and them and Sunghoon,"

You let out a small sigh, absentmindedly fidgeting your fingers. "It's all in the past now. I'm sure Sunghoon has moved on with another girl, and maybe—just maybe—the guys do hate me less."

You never went to that party Yunjin mentioned.

It was hard to admit but you knew, deep inside you, you were afraid, too cowardly to face the people you once knew. Instead, you chose to linger around like a lost soul in a town full of the ghosts of your past.

It didn't help that the party was also in Sunghoon's house. How did they expect you to go in the first place? You thought you'd never step foot in there after you broke it off with him, and you were adamant on keeping it that way, but your heart got the worst of you.

On the night of the party, you drove around the neighbourhood, eventually stopping across the street of his house. You didn't know what got to you to do so, but you guessed reminiscence and bright lights coming from the house were the reason. The music was loud, people were coming in and out of the house, and the only thing you could think of was him.

That thought alone was enough to have you drive away, leaving the house further and further away into the background just as the memories of him being pushed into the back of your mind.

Rotting in your bed wasn't how your early 20s were meant to be spent, and avoiding almost everyone most definitely wasn't the case either.

Your family and Yunjin were the only people you saw daily, as for the friends you once had, they were long forgotten or didn't even bother to reach out. Except for Heeseung and the others.

That, to you, was a really funny thing to think about. People who stuck by you after the break up and swore to be your closest friends didn't try contacting you once you moved back, knowing damn well word traveled fast in the town; whereas the friends you thought hated you were the first to reach out.

"I'll go to that party," you said to Yunjin on a sunny afternoon tanning session by the pool, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose, hiding the apprehension in your eyes.

"Really?" Yunjin almost jumped out of her seat. It was a party she had brought up days ago, still persistent on taking you out. At least this time around, it wasn't in Sunghoon's house, but her friend Chaewon's. "That's great! Chaewon and the girls are super nice, you'll love them. Let's pick a nice outfit for you, okay?"

Yunjin was by far the most enthusiastic one between you and her. She was picking out dresses and tops, literally rummaging through your closet for anything, and you had to remind her it was just a college party. So, you settled for a skirt and a plain top.

"Will you be okay? I'll stick by you," Yunjin had her arms around you, standing by the front door of Chaewon's house, hearing the music blaring from the inside.

"I'm fine—I think I'll be fine—I just don't want to run away from everyone anymore," it was mostly true, you thought it was inevitable to hide all the time, that wasn't how you're going to spend your life living.

"If there's anything, tell me, okay? We'll leave if you're getting sick," Yunjin gave your arm a final squeeze of assurance before crossing the threshold.

It was the same as every party you've gone to. Loud music, drunk college kids, liquor and beers strayed around, it reeked of your nightmare in a nutshell there.

Yunjin's friends were all as lovely as she had promised. The host herself was wobbling on her feet but managed to grace you with her humour. There was Sakura and Kazuha that you learned were foreign students.

Throughout the night, you were stuck by Yunjin, going from circle to circle and introducing yourself or recognising some of your past school mates. But, almost inevitably so, Heeseung, Jay and Jake had made an appearance too.

"Y/N," Jay was the first to call your name, causing you to turn your head at the familiar voice.

Your thoughts during then were jumbled into a mess. The people you were fighting to avoid were standing in front of you, all of which were much different than the memories you had of them in mind.

Three of them had grown taller, gained some muscles and matured in many ways. Jay's hair was dyed pink, Heeseung got new piercings and Jake had a tattoo on his finger. It was strange to admit they're the same people you knew despite feeling the complete opposite of familiarity.

"Hey—" you were cut off by Jay closing in and pulling you into a hug, this for once was something you remembered about him.

"We're so glad you're back," he whispered into your hair, squeezing you tight. It reminded you then that you were friends with him and the guys before you even dated Sunghoon, that connection was deeper than it seemed, and for it to be severed just because of a breakup was gut wrenching to realise. "We're sorry, Y/N, we're so sorry,"

His apology was genuine, that's for sure. Once you pull away, you let both Heeseung and Jake take turns to hug you, whispering apologies into your ear. It was odd, to accept their apologies and having to start afresh. You held onto them, just taking it in. To forgive was a big step, but maybe it was your first step.

You sat there, catching up with them and slowly getting comfortable just like the old days. Heeseung graduated and got a good job offer, Jay and Jake were still studying, both of which were in the same university. You were relieved there was nothing too awkward between you and them, or else you would have regretted your choices.

The night continued on with a few small talks and eventually you had to excuse yourself to the toilet. You wondered how Chaewon's house was so big, with halls that seemed to never end, or it could just be the effects of alcohol.

Stumbling around, you held onto the walls, passing by rooms occupied by people probably doing something unspeakable. You thought your peace of mind would be intact until the end of the night, but you were wrong. Upon turning a corner, you froze.

It was Sunghoon. It was him.

Grief was a funny feeling, especially when it comes to someone you once knew. You stared at him and there he was, like a ghost from your past coming back to haunt you. He was the shell of the person you loved, and you couldn't help but grieve the person he once was. What was he like now?

Before you could even turn around and make a run for it, his wandering eyes landed on you. He had the same thought process as you. Realisation, panic, sadness, confusion all mixed into a heap of feelings.

Your feet started moving on its own, as you stepped back, he took a step forward. Your breath became ragged, heart thumping hard and blood pumping in your ears. He was nearing, and you were running away, it was the same as before.

"Y/N!" He called out, and all it took was him to say your name again to have you stop in your tracks. Gosh, you were pathetic.

He was standing before you now, closer than he was a moment ago. It was then you realised how much he had changed too.

He was taller, smile lines etched much deeper into his face, almost changing along the same wavelengths with the others. There was something different about the way he looked at you, however. From love in his eyes that eventually changed into hatred was now filled with longing and confusion.

"Y/N," he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice, as if he couldn't believe you were there.

"Sunghoon," you blinked, a frown unknowingly making its way to your face. You let a few beats of silence pass, conflicted and nervous. "I—I should leave,"

"No—!" his hand reached out for you, but you didn't feel his touch. He didn't dare to touch you, letting his hand linger before pulling it back to his side. "I mean, you don't have to leave,"

"I thought you hate me,"

Sunghoon's gaze fell to the floor, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. He met your eyes once more. "I should hate you, shouldn't I? But I don't think I do, I never did,"

You blinked, a little surprised, a little hurt. All along he had made you think he hated your guts but he actually didn't? "Oh," you seemed to have lost the ability to talk or to compute a proper sentence.

You thought of the things you wanted to ask him. If he was still angry at you or if things were working for him. But, what came out was the question you've stored in the back of your mind instead.

"Are you with someone new?"

You figured he didn't expect such a question from you, much as you didn't expect yourself saying it. It was an itching thought, one that made you look like a typical ex, but you couldn't help it.

"I'm not," he sounded almost exasperated, as if having to squash down this rumour for the thousandth time.

"Oh … oh," you didn't know what to say, averting your gaze away from him and finding comfort in the wall behind him.

Sunghoon paused, gaze following yours, looking reluctant whether or not to continue the conversation, but alas, he did. "How have you been?"

"Bad," you laughed a little, and Sunghoon's ears perked at the sound of it that he hasn't heard for ages. "You?"

"I quit skating,"

That was surprising. How could he have? Skating was his dream, his past, present and supposed future, but now, it came crashing down. You didn't know if you should feel sorry for him, as you have been a part of his journey, but one bit of you also seemed to have started mourning the changed Sunghoon that stood before you.

"Why?"

He shrugged, hands slipping into his pocket with a solemn look. "I lost interest. I'm into music now, I'm in a band with the guys,"

You heaved a breath, a deep one. Ironic it was that he was doing music now when he was the one criticising you in the past for wanting to pursue it. Who even was this person? With a new appearance came a new personality, he was much further away than you thought despite the physical distance.

"You've changed," you didn't know what prompted you to say that, maybe it was the disbelief or the denial that he was someone new, but whatever it was, neither of you could deny the fact that he did change. "I'm scared of the person you've become,"

A beat passed, an unreadable expression on Sunghoon's face that you couldn't distinguish even though by now you thought you'd know every one of them.

"And I'm scared you're still the same."

Seeing Sunghoon that night seemed to have altered something in your life. Somehow, he was everywhere you went.

Who was working at the register? Sunghoon. Who was at the park? Sunghoon. Who was at the party Yunjin managed to drag you to? Sunghoon.

It was haunting.

All those little encounters didn't mean you talked to him like normal, though. The awkward tension in the air still remained, seeing each other only reminded you and him both of your pasts, and you hated it. That explained why you were having a hard time seeing him at another party you were at.

Yunjin was much more of a party goer than you expected, and she successfully convinced you to go to all of them. It was fun until you got drunk and started being emotional. Your efforts of hiding from Sunghoon that night failed when he barged into the empty room you were sobbing in, whether it was accidental or not, you didn't know, you wished to not know.

"Y/N?"

His voice brought back the times he called your name. Both the good and bad ones. You stared up at him from the ground, tears welling your eyes. The person you were looking at was someone you thought was a soulmate, but now stood as someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

"W–what are you doing here? Why are you crying?"

The alcohol messing with your brain was processing his words, but what came out from your lips was the total opposite of an answer. "I'm sorry, Hoonie,"

Sunghoon's eyes widened at the nickname, the privilege that only you had. He kneeled down, taking a seat on the ground opposite you, a visible distance in between.

"I hate this—us—I feel like if we gave it one night, to talk, to just feel—you'd hate me less and make it alright," you choked back the sobs building up in your throat, the dizziness making you unaware of how Sunghoon reached out only to hesitate and pressed his hand back to his side. "Just wish that we could fight now, I'd hold you on the comedown …" your voice faltered, head leaning onto the wall.

"Y/N, you're drunk, we can talk this out another day," Sunghoon striped off his jacket and covered your exposed thighs with it. "Just … don't avoid me. I–I don't hate you, I just hope we can have a decent conversation without thinking about the past,"

He admitted it, how the two of you had secretly been thinking about the past, letting it be a big wall in between instead of growing from it. Yet, you could tell the unspoken anger and sadness still lingered, choosing to pour out gradually and unknowingly.

"Bet you wish you never even met me," you started slurring, hand gripping onto his jacket tightly. "I can't blame you, I broke your every heartbeat," your eyes were shut, images playing in your mind, not knowing the saddened look dawning on Sunghoon's face.

"Let's get you back."

In your sleep that night, you saw him. He was there, so far yet so close, and just like reality, he was hard to reach, harder to understand compared to before. He was a knife cutting deep, leaving a mark that constantly reminded you of the past.

How could you even make everything go back to the way it was?

Sunghoon was on your front door step the night everyone was out for dinner except you.

You hadn't expected him to turn up, thinking it'd be you that stood at his doorstep instead as you still had his jacket from that party (which you do not want to think about again).

"Sunghoon. Hey," the door was opened and you leaned against it, trying your best at hiding the hint of pining in your gaze.

"Oh, hey," he greeted back rather stiffly, dressed in a simple attire with the classic white Lacoste sneakers that he always wore. "I–I wanted to—"

"Take your … jacket?" You cut him off half way, nerves wrecking your brain.

A beat passed, Sunghoom visibly gulped. "Y–Yeah, my jacket,"

"I'll go grab it for you," you jerked your thumb over your shoulder, awkwardly scurrying back in to retrieve his jacket and coming back to see him chewing on his bottom lip, seemingly nervous. "Here. Thanks for it,"

"No problem," Sunghoon coughed, grabbing the jacket but absolutely paying no mind to it. His stare was straight at you.

"That's all, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah," you echoed, hating the sudden rigidness between the two of you. "Bye then, Sunghoon,"

"Bye," Sunghoon said, looking dazed. Weird.

You saw him backing away and decided to close the door, but before you could even do so, a force had stopped you from closing it. Not a force, much rather a hand, his hand. The door was pushed open, and you physically jumped at the suddenness of it. Your eyes met Sunghoon's sorrowful ones.

"Don't push me away, Y/N, not again,"

"Sunghoon,"

He made his way in, closing the door behind him and you let him. Was this seriously happening?

"You said you wanted to give us one night to talk, so I'm here now. I didn't care about the jacket, I cared about you. I hate seeing us like this, it's like we're strangers," Sunghoon let out a frustrated huff, eyebrows furrowed.

"We can't just pretend nothing has happened between us,"

"So you want me to hate you instead? You're saying as if it's easy, Y/N, feelings don't work that way!"

"Then how do we go back to how it was? We can't, that's the truth. You're not the same person I used to know,"

"Cut the bullshit. I'm the same as I was, maybe just a little different than I was years ago, but that doesn't change anything. When does that ever stop you from loving?"

Were you too scared to love?

Sunghoon ran his hand across his face, wetting his lips. "You’re scared of change, and I don’t think that’s something new about you,”

Ouch.

“But I really wish you could let it all go. I don’t hate you, nor do I harbour any anger regarding the things that happened years ago. It hurts, it did, but seeing you now made me feel the opposite of all those emotions,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, and you were holding yours. “I think about you a lot, actually. I regretted a lot of the things I said and done, and I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being there for you and giving you the support you needed. I should've fought for us and not leave, I–I—" Sunghoon choked, unable to hold in his overpowering emotions anymore.

You didn’t say anything, instinctively closing in and pulling him into your arms, letting his head lie on your shoulder, ignoring the feeling of his warm tears soaking the fabric of your shirt. "I'm sorry too, for leaving you so easily,"

You stood there with Sunghoon in your arms, inevitably crying along and sobbing out your own apologies, the ones you had owed him and hidden all these years. He held you tight just as you did, and it felt like the nights he had you in his arms whenever you cried. You eventually calmed down whereas Sunghoon was still composing himself, avoiding your gaze.

You took the opportunity to hug him again, tighter and firmer this time, as if trying to stop him from running away.

"Can we start over? I don't want us to be strangers,"

You heard a sniffle, then a shaky breath of relief. "I'd love to,"

Pulling away, you locked eyes with him. They were twinkling brighter than the stars in the skies outside, filled with a spark of hope. "I'll make us some hot tea. Do you want to … stay over?"

"Can I?"

"I really want you to."

It didn't take more to convince Sunghoon to stay, all you had to do was ask and he'd listen.

That night, you and him hid in your room, talking for the whole night until the break of dawn. Nothing about the way he talked had changed, nor his laughter or the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. He told you about the band and some side gigs, offering to bring you to some too.

You laid there in bed laughing all night, occasionally peeking over the side of your bed to check up on him who slept on the extra mattress, only to meet his eyes and freeze.

The red string of fate tying you and him together was beginning to reform.

Not feeling dread every time you saw Sunghoon was a new start for you. In fact, you were glad to see him.

The misunderstandings and complexity built up over the years were finally addressed, leaving you to peace and a small hope of rebuilding what you had with him. But you kept that thought away for now, holding onto the pieces you had at the moment.

"Come to one of my gigs," Sunghoon made a trip to your house on a random afternoon, a box of your favourite chocolate covered strawberries in his hand. He never forgot anything about you, didn't he?

"Are you bribing me or asking me?" You said despite accepting the box, your heart squeezing at the thought of him remembering the littlest details about you.

"I'm asking you but also offering a gift," he let himself in, almost like always, and you didn't even notice, just letting him do so. "I saw it and I thought of you so I got it,"

"Thanks," you waved the box a little, setting it down on the table and leaning slightly against it. "You still remember,"

His gaze softened. "Of course I do," his hand by his side was itching to reach out, but it never did, instead, he played it off by giving you a smile. "So, what do you say? This Saturday, watch our gig at the pub,"

"Are you singing?"

"I wish I did," he laughed, and you momentarily recalled the times you had karaoke sessions with him. Curse reminiscence. "I play the bass, Heeseung's the front man,"

You nodded slowly, picturing them as a band and smiling slowly. You've missed them, and it was then when you realised it. "I'll go,"

"Really?"

"Obviously, do you want me to say no?"

"Well, no," Sunghoon chuckled, quite literally unable to hide his excitement from the way he's grinning widely. "I'm just … glad, and surprised, and happy,"

You bit back a smile, shaking your head at him. "Text me the details, will you? I don't want to miss it."

Saturday rolled around quickly. You and Yunjin were sitting in a corner of the pub, beers on the table and whispering gossip about some of your high school classmates. High school might've ended years ago but gossip never stopped.

"Alright, folks, the next act is someone you already know, they are not strangers," the manager of the pub stepped onto the small stage, announcing Sunghoon and the guy's band. "Please welcome … April Nights!"

April?

You bit your tongue, an odd feeling boiling in your stomach. April was the month you broke up with Sunghoon and left for university, it was more than just a coincidence for him and his band to have 'April' in their name. All you knew was the sinking feeling never went away.

"You alright?" Yunjin noticed your silence, casting a worried glance at you.

"April …" you mumbled, eyes staring straight ahead at Sunghoon who was setting up his bass on stage. "There must be something behind it,"

"What?"

"Nothing,"

You shook away that feeling currently eating up and put your focus on Sunghoon instead. It wasn't your first time watching him perform. It has always been him on ice in a big arena, but now it was him on a small stage at a dingy pub.

Sunghoon's eyes wandered all over the room, finally landing on you, a smile spreading on his pretty face. You managed a small smile, waving a little to let him know you're there, you're actually there and not a figment of his imagination, a dream that he has been wishing on for far too long.

The first song they played was an ABBA song. To be specific, it was your favourite ABBA song that you would listen to with Sunghoon in the past. Was it a coincidence?

You knew Heeseung had a vocal of stars, but to hear it for the first time in years was sending you into heaven. However, you failed to keep your focus on him, redirecting it to the bassist. You couldn't stop looking at Sunghoon, and his gaze wouldn't leave yours either.

The second song soon came by, and at that point onwards, you knew it wasn't a coincidence. It only took two songs for you to realise that Sunghoon had prepared a set list of your favourite songs. The band was currently playing Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, a song you had loved ever since forever.

You shouldn't be feeling light headed, but you were.

The set ended almost a few hours later. It was filled with your favourite songs, undoubtedly. The whole time, you were truly holding your breath, especially when Sunghoon was holding your gaze.

While people were filing in and out of the pub gradually, you stayed. It was well past midnight and Yunjin's cheeks were pink from the alcohol, wandering off to join Heeseung and the others. You, on the other hand, were sober as hell, waiting for Sunghoon with nerve wrecking anticipation.

"Hey, hey, hey. How did we do?" Sunghoon slid into a seat like an apparition appearing out of thin air. You jumped a little, but melted into a smile at the sight of him.

"You guys were great," it was genuine, because they did do amazing, probably more than just amazing. "'April nights', an interesting name,"

Realisation dawned on Sunghoon's face, he swallowed thickly. "I—yeah. April was an interesting month,"

"The set list …"

"Right, the set list," he chuckled, shifting on his feet a little nervously and stiffly. "I figured since you're here I'll play some of your favourite songs,"

"Oh," you let out softly, not knowing what else to say, this was something you found yourself acting around Sunghoon now. "That's … nice,"

Sunghoon gouged your expressions and the tone of your voice, a slow frown etching onto his tired face. "Did you not … like it? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,"

"No, it's not that! I'm just—" you paused, thinking of an appropriate word to describe how you felt. Frankly, you didn't know your exact feelings. "—surprised and … confused?"

"Confused?"

"Sunghoon, we're exes, and you pulling this isn't exactly helping—this—" you gestured to the space between you and him. "Us,"

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, occasionally opening his mouth to say something just to close it before he could. "I—maybe I read it all wrong, I thought—you know what, forget it,"

"Don't. Just tell me," you reached over for him, but didn't touch his hand. "What are we? We're not exactly best friends nor are we enemies. I don't want any tension between us and I don't want you to think you have zero chance at all," you breathed, searching for his eyes. "I would want us to work out again, if that's what you want too,"

Sunghoon's eyes glistened with a spark of hope, relief washing over his face. It was an answer to his question. "I want us to work out. I want us to have another chance," his hand reached out for yours the first time since you've seen each other, feeling the warmth of his touch that you were no stranger to. He carefully and gently intertwined his hand with yours.

"We'll always find our way back to each other."

It was odd but comforting to know that nothing has changed when it came to you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon brought you to your favourite places, ate your favourite dishes, did your favourite activities as an attempt to rekindle everything back. Safe to say it was working.

Just like the first dates you had together, you felt yourself having the same bubbly feeling internally, the same giggles you caught yourself having after a stupid joke he made. Despite all that, over the course of a few weeks, it had you wondering about your relationship with him.

"Will you date him again?" Yunjin could tell you were struggling, even if you didn't say it, it was still quite evident.

"What's with the sudden question?"

"Well, considering he has taken you out on so many dates and still hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend again, I could tell you're troubled,"

"Okay, mind reader," you grumbled and shifted in your seat, hating how right she was. "He said he wanted to give us a chance again, so I was expecting that—you know—we'd get back together soon,"

"Your 'soon' seems a bit urgent, but I don't blame you," Yunjin shrugged, gaze softening at your words. "I can tell how much love there still is between the two of you. It's natural to gravitate towards each other, but time, time is what you need to heal the scars, Y/N. It's been years, give yourself time."

You suppose giving yourself time truly was what you needed. But when you mentally said you needed space, you didn't mean wanting Sunghoon to ignore you.

That's right. He was ignoring you.

How did you know? Apparently, the hard way.

Calls, messages were all brushed aside. You didn't even see him physically. At one point, you considered him dead, but seeing him at a party proved to you that he wasn't.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Cornering him was a challenge, but being headstrong and slightly buzzed, nothing could possibly stop you.

"Y/N?"

"Wow, I'm surprised you remember my name," you seethed, almost stumbling forward and throwing a punch at him. "So, we're playing the game where you get back at me and ghost me after all that we've been through lately? Sweet! Could've given me a head's up though,"

"What? You're the one who's planning to abandon me just like before!"

"What are you even saying?"

"Your email, Y/N. I saw your email. How you have a big job in London and you just can't wait to join, throwing me away like a summer's fling right before you leave,"

"You're not making any sense, I'm not accepting that role!" You were heaving at anger at this point, matching the fumes emitting from Sunghoon's ears. "You dickhead! I'm literally throwing my dreams away and you're here thinking I'm leaving you again? Is that what you thought of first? Oh, maybe you could've just asked me, but you didn't, just like the past,"

Bringing up the past had triggered something not only in you but him. He blinked, keeping silent but chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek.

"You never changed, huh?"

You heaved a deep breath, shaking your head a little, not to answer his question, but at him.

"Well I guess that makes the both of us."

"I fucked it up, didn't I?"

The night after the confrontation, you woke up on Yunjin's couch with a hangover thanks to your habit of drinking your problems away. Remembering Sunghoon's face and the feelings you felt literally had you shrivelling back into the couch, a deep frown etched on your face.

"Partly, yes, but mostly, no," you felt the couch dip beneath Yunjin's weight as she joined your side, a warm cup of coffee in her hand. "He fucked up first, but I think it's all just a big misunderstanding,"

"I don't we've healed from it," you took the cup from her and drank from it. "He's scared of me leaving and I was considering leaving again. Maybe we're just not meant to be,"

Yunjin sighed, moving her body closer to you and placing a comforting hand on yours. "If you're not leaving, that means you're staying, which also means you get to make it right. You get to have time to mend it all unlike the last time,"

"I have to make it right, don't I?"

A nod of confirmation from Yunjin was all you needed to know your next step. So, you decided to show up at his gig in the same exact pub without thinking through it twice.

"He's not here tonight," Heeseung looked thoroughly puzzled by your sudden appearance, and it seemed none of them knew about the small altercation you had with Sunghoon.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's been acting a bit … off. We asked him to take a night off, maybe you should give him a call."

If only it was that easy.

Walking back home with a dejected heart was not the plan you had in mind. A part of you even thought this was truly the end, maybe he reached the conclusion of going no contact and you have no choice but to accept it. Was this karma?

It didn't help that you walked past the park that you and Sunghoon used to run off to back in the past. The exact bench which you and him sat on still resided there. Your curious mind led your legs towards it, taking a seat and remembering all the memories you shared with him.

Being alone under the night sky and getting accompanied by the dim light coming from the street lamp had given you a chance to rethink your choices about coming back home, whether it was worth it to see Sunghoon once again and try for the closure you never got. Well, look where it got you now.

The ruffles of the leaves got you snapping your head towards the direction of the noise, but it only landed on a figure.

"Y/N?"

You squinted, waiting until the figure walked under the streetlamp to distinguish that it was … Sunghoon. You should be feeling glad now that he was there in front you, but why were you feeling the exact opposite?

"Sunghoon? W–what are you doing here?" You stood up, watching him getting closer, the anguish in his face was clear.

"I–I … I went to look for you," he started, carefully and slowly inching closer until there's a comfortable distance between you both. "You weren't home and I thought … that was it,"

That was a fatal flaw you and him shared, wasn't it?

"I went to the pub to look for you too," your voice came out in a hushed whisper, breathing becoming ragged. "And you weren't there, so I thought … I thought it was the end too,"

"Fuck's sake, I know I said this many times but I'm sorry, Y/N," he sounded desperate, apologetic and almost exasperated. "I'm sorry for assuming things and ignoring you, I guess I never really got rid of the avoiding thing. I'm just … scared of you leaving me and I can't accept it again,"

"I'm not leaving, Hoonie," you were the first to reach out, to touch him and pull him into your embrace. "I didn't think you'd see that email so I never said anything about it. But I'm not leaving, okay? Not this time, never again. I'm here and I'm staying,"

You heard Sunghoon's quiet breathing next to your ear, his calming heartbeat thrumming against your shoulder. "I'm sorry, I really am, Y/N. I said I wanted to make this right but why does it feel like I'm fucking it all up?"

"You're not, Hoon, trust me. If I have to be honest here, both of us have past scars that aren't healed yet. It takes time, one step at a time, and that was what I learned. I think we're not fully healed from the past," you held onto him tighter, spilling all your hidden truths. "We can make it right, but first, we have to forgive ourselves, forgive each other and move on,"

Sunghoon pulled away a little, but his arms still remained around you. It was the first time you were ever so close to him since the split, wholly vulnerable and showing him your truest emotions.

"I forgive you," he whispered, pearly tears threatening to spill from the edge of his eyes. "And I'm sorry again,"

"I forgive you too," your grip on his jacket tightened, a small comforting smile appearing on your lips, one that Sunghoon reciprocated.

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving you," he confessed, a little out of the blue, but it was something he needed to get out of his system before he burst. "Those years when you were away, I see you in everyone else, I don't think anyone could ever compare. I still love you even after this long,"

Your mind was in a haze upon hearing his confession, sincerity and longing hidden in his words but evident in his eyed. For a moment, you thought of what you could say, but nothing came to mind, so you did the first thing your body told you to. You kissed him. Actually, it was more of a peck, a simple quick peck that was enough to shock both him and you.

"I'm sorry!" You saw his wide eyes and wondered if it was a good time to have even done that.

Sunghoon melted into an expression of adoration, a wide smile etched on his lips, as if in both disbelief and relief that you kissed him. "Don't be sorry," he stepped closer, only an inch measured the distance between you and him. The space became smaller when he leaned down, eyes flickering down to your lips. "Can I?"

Was this happening? "Yeah,"

Sunghoon didn't waste any moment in meeting your lips with his. It was natural, easy, for you to kiss him just like first instinct. The amount of desperation, sadness, anger and love were poured into the way he kissed you. There wasn't any urgency, but it spoke louder than intended.

It was short, but it was enough to let the both you know the true feelings you harboured for each other. By the time you pulled away from him, you felt his eyes on you, a giggle erupted from you unexpectedly, and he started joining in.

You really looked like a lovesick fool standing under the streetlamp with your lover.

"Do you want to stop by that old spot we used to go to?" Sunghoon suggested, a little shyly this time.

"The one nearby?"

"That one,"

"Let's go then." you nodded, casting him a soft smile.

Sunghoon didn't say much, but his hand did the talking by reaching for yours. He held onto it tightly, intertwining his fingers with yours and swinging your interlocked hands as you walked. He might've not said much, but you could tell how he felt.

Feelings might be complicated, and making amends with the history behind a broken relationship was equally challenging, but what mattered most was getting back with the one who you called your soulmate, your lover, your best friend.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun @ilovegyuvin @hyunniesvlog @eleanorheartschishiya @nanabbg @letwiiparkjay @teddywonss @classicroyalty @run2x @yannnnaj @jakesfurry @gyuwooboozle @nylajp24 @usedto-me @vernonburger

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agaypanic · 2 months

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hi omg i got so excited when i saw you were doing egon spengler x reader aaaa! could you do egon and an personality opposite reader? he's all serious and deadpan while she's happy and upbeat (it'd be cool if she was the new girl in the team and had a crush on him). sort of like a "she fell first, he fell harder" situation?

The Sunlight On My Spores (Egon Spengler X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The new addition to the ghostbuster’s team is a ray of sunshine, and she has her sights on a scientist with an interest in fungi and the supernatural.

A/N: AHHHHH ive been waiting for an egon/ghostbuster request!!! since i havent written for egon before, i hope i get his character right lol also idk shit about science/paranormal jargon. and idk if eegs is spelled the way it should but it’s pronounced ee-gs, like egon but s instead of on

***

Joining the Ghostbusters definitely brought amusement and hecticness to your daily life. Although you handled more of the office work, you had seen your fair share of the paranormal action. Namely Slimer, who would get ahold of your lunch every now and then.

Ray was the first on the team that you had met, being the one to interview you. You liked to call him ‘Sun-Ray’ for his bright and positive personality.

You were pretty much hired on the spot, mainly because Janine had been complaining about the lack of extra help. But as long as you had a steady paycheck, you didn’t mind. Ray had immediately showed you around the firehouse. You met Peter and Winston on the main floor, the former being flirtatious and the latter being more polite in his welcoming.

Then Ray took you up to the second floor, where the dining area, sleeping quarters, and lab were.

That’s where you met Egon Spengler. His tall frame was hunched over one of the lab’s many workbenches, doing some soldering work on a proton pack.

“Spengs!” Ray said with a wide grin, bringing you over to the scientist. The man in question set down the soldering iron and straightened up, adjusting his glasses as he turned around.

“What is it, Ray?” He asked in a somewhat monotone voice. He glanced at you, furrowing his brows slightly before looking back at his friend. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/n, our new recruit!” Ray replied enthusiastically, patting you on the shoulder.

“Ah, so you’ve filled the new receptionist position.” He said, giving you a once-over. “Janine will be happy to hear that.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spengler.” You greeted with a smile. He outreached his hand, which you grasped firmly and gave a few shakes. His hand was slightly calloused, probably from his work, but still felt nice.

“Egon’s fine.”

“I’ve read a few of your papers on paranormal studies; I think the whole thing’s fascinating.”

Some of his research papers weren’t the only thing of Egon’s you’ve seen. Ever since the Ghostbusters had gained some popularity, you couldn’t help but find him quite cute, spending an extra few seconds looking at him whenever a picture of the group was in your newspaper or on your television screen.

And he was definitely even more handsome in person.

“Well then, you’ve definitely come to the right place.” Ray grinned, but your focus was still on the spectacled man before you.

“Thank you, that’s very flattering.” Although his voice was a bit monotonous, the response was genuine. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my spore samples.”

“Spore samples?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes. I collect spores, molds, and fungus.”

“That sounds like fun!” Egon was a bit taken aback by your response. That wasn’t a reply he was used to hearing. And the fact that you sounded genuine and peppy was even more confusing to him.

Ray, wanting to show you the rest of the firehouse, started to pull you away. You gave a quick goodbye to Egon before bounding down the stairs after Ray. Meanwhile, Egon needed to take a second to get his befuddled thoughts straight before he could tend to his samples.

***

You fell into a routine pretty quickly. The job was mainly making appointments and ensuring the boys were ready for a call, scheduled or unexpected. Occasionally, you filed paperwork or got coffee for everyone at odd hours in the day. But because the job was shared between you and Janine, you often had at least a little bit of free time.

“Got another one!” Peter announced as he stepped out of the Ecto-1 that had just rolled into the firehouse, holding up a slightly smoking trap. As Winston and Ray emerged from the car, you wondered if Peter had been wearing a poncho because he was the only one not covered at least halfway in goo. “He was a real slimy one, too.”

“I can tell.” You laughed as Ray and Winston peeled out of their uniforms with a grimace.

“You’re back.” Egon’s voice almost made you jump; you hadn’t realized he had come down from the lab. He walked until he was standing next to you, holding his hand out towards the ghost trap. “I’ll take that, Peter. Ray, come with me, I want to discuss the containment facility with you.”

“What about it?” Ray asked as he closed his locker. Egon brushed past you to walk down to the basement, Ray close behind.

Not wanting to be caught staring at Egon’s leaving form, you whipped back around to the car. It seemed that Winston and Ray weren’t the only ones who got slimed. Poor Ecto.

“I think I’m gonna clean the car.” You thought aloud. “You guys don’t have any more calls until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Y/n,” Winston said.

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” Peter interjected. “We gotta ride in style, after all.”

“Really, Winston, I don’t mind.” You insisted. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug.

Patting you on the shoulder, Winston went upstairs to take a shower. While Peter hung up his jumpsuit, you looked around in a storage closet for car washing supplies.

“Y/n?” You looked towards the sound of the voice, seeing Egon peeking out of the basement entrance.

“Yeah, Eegs?”

“You, uh-” He cleared his throat, cheeks going slightly pink, and you wondered why. “You can wear my jumpsuit, if you want. So your clothes don’t get dirty.”

You grinned, straightening up from your slightly bent position. Peter raised a brow at Egon, although you couldn’t see that because you were also looking at the tall man.

“Thanks, Egon!”

He nodded once before going back downstairs, Peter hot on his tail.

“You sweet on her or something, Spengs?” He asked quietly, not wanting to gain your attention.

“Shut up, Venkman.”

***

Music blasted as you washed the soap suds of the Ecto-1. You were pretty sure everyone was out of the building, either getting lunch or just not wanting to be in the firehouse. You had taken Egon up on his offer, his jumpsuit fitting very baggy on you. You had to roll up the sleeves and pantlegs, but you didn’t mind. Especially when seeing the patch with his last name on your chest.

Over the music and your own voice singing along to Whitney Houston, you didn’t hear Egon walking down the stairs. When he reached the bottom step, he watched as you jumped around to the beat.

“I need a man who’ll take the chance, on a love that burns hot enough to last.” You sprayed the last of the soap off the front of the car before turning the hose off. “So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls. Ohh- Oh!” You yelped in surprise as you turned around, seeing Egon, who was still looking at you. His eyes trailed up and down your form, but it was so quick that you didn’t notice. “Hey, Eegs! I thought you’d gone out with the others.” Even after turning down the radio to hear his response, you still danced a bit. Although, your movements were a bit more subdued.

“I was up in the lab, checking on my fungi.”

“Oh! Was the music distracting you?” You asked, already sounding apologetic. “I can keep it down if you-”

“No!” Egon answered quickly, taking the both of you by surprise. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “No, the music’s fine. I wanted a snack and found that we were out of Twinkies, so I was going to get some.”

You nodded in understanding, moving to put away the car cleaning supplies that you were no longer using. And then you noticed that Egon hadn’t made any move to leave. You looked over your shoulder, seeing that he was standing in the same spot with eyes darting around the room, and turned back around to face him. You tilted your head with a questioning look.

“Would you, ahem, would you like to come with me?” He seemed a bit shy to ask, and it made you smile brightly. “Wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone and all.”

“Sure!” You answered enthusiastically. “Lemme just put all this away.”

Without asking, Egon helped you gather everything and put it in the storage closet. You unrolled the limbs of Egon’s uniform, and he couldn’t help but admire you in his attire, despite how much the fabric consumed you. It was hung back up in his locker with care before you grabbed your purse from your desk and skipped over to him.

“Ready?” You nodded, and the two of you walked out of the firehouse. Without thinking, you looped your arm through his. But before you could pull away and apologize for not asking, he was already pulling you along the sidewalk, the tiniest hint of a smile on his serious face.

#agaypanic #egon spengler #egon spengler x reader #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters

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priyajoyyy · 3 months

Text

Meangirl!clarisse la rue - concept [part 1]

Part 2 [here]

Mean girl!heavily inspired by renne rapps Regina George!Clarisse la rue x fem!shy!kinda a doormat!Reader

Concept for a mean girls Regina George style Clarisse and nerdy doormat reader because I'm to scared to write my first imagine rn lol

May do an actual imagine for this if it’s wanted

Warnings:

reader is kinda Aphrodite coded because I’m bias to my own cabin, but nothing is actually mentioned because it’s a school au, this is also based off of American schools but I’m British so there’s a mention of prefects because I don’t know the American equivalent 😭, poor writing (this is my first tumblr concept please be nice to me), mean!clarisse, bullying, a lot of jealous!clarisse

Meangirl!Clarisse who runs the school with an iron fist and looks so good while doing it and newgirl!reader who has no idea what she's walking into when she transfers school.

Meangirl!Clarisse with silena as her bestie and Chris as her ex.

Meangirl!Clarisse who’s captain of the football team and newgirl!reader who successfully tries out for the cheerleading team so Meangirl!Clarisse gets to watch her jump around in a tiny skirt all practice.

Meangirl!clarisse, silena and Chris all having lockers next to each other (she threatened the prefect in charge of locker assignments and had them put the three together while her and Chris were dating) and opposite newgirl!readers locker.

Silena as cheer captain who watches Meangirl!Clarisse stare at newgirl!reader everyday and who tries to get her and newgirl!reader together behind her back.

Newgirl!reader who watches Meangirl!clarisse at her locker every morning because she has a crush on her, and is way too scared of her to ever instigate anything with her.

Meangirl!Clarisse who sees this and thinks newgirl!reader has a crush on Chris so flirts with him by his locker just to piss newgirl!reader off because she’s lowkey jealous (even if she doesn’t realise) and they’re both just like, wtf? And silena who is so disappointed.

Meangirl!clarrise who eventually makes out with Chris at a party (that silena practically forced newgirl!reader to go to, she only went because she scares her too) right in front of her, and newgirl!reader is still like, why tf do you keep doing this shit like I don’t wanna see that??

Meangirl!clarisse who watches luke flirt and ask newgirl!reader out and not realising she’s too scared to say no so goes on a date with him.

Luke who changes his mind the next day, sporting an unusual bruise under his eye, while Meangirl!Clarisse walks around with a not so unusual bruised knuckle and bruise on her cheek.

Newgirl!reader who can’t drive yet so waits for her mum to pick her up after cheer everyday,

And Meangirl!Clarisse who makes excuses to stay later so that she can watch Newgirl!reader shiver in the Carpark and make a flirty comment to her as she walks past on the way to her car, with no one around to see.

Newgirl!reader who just stares, blushes and occasionally says a small thank you in response to her comments.

Silena who needs a lift home one night and makes Meangirl!clarisse to give Newgirl!reader her jacket, forcing Newgirl!reader to interact with Meangirl!Clarisse the next morning to give it back.

Meangirl!Clarisse who was late to school the next day because silena delayed them, not being able to see Newgirl!reader till practice,

And Meangirl!Clarisse who would never say it out loud, but who was thanking silena the entire time as she smirked down at Newgirl!reader stumbling over her words explaining why she had to wait to give her the jacket because she couldn’t find her all day,

And Newgirl!reader who was shellshocked and blushing while her crush told her not to worry about it, and to keep the jacket again tonight because it’s cold again.

Lowkey love this but still scared to write an actual imagine lol

Part 2 is out [here]

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honeykaes · 4 months

Text

inside/out

wriothesley x convict!reader II 2.6k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, convict!reader, fingering, squirting, marking, biting, piercings, rough sex, hate sex, office sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, you and wriothesley are exes, angst, degradation, domestic disputes, set in fontaine before the traveler comes, fontaine plot points references, discussions of legal systems and injustice, mention of drugs, discussion of murder, open ending for interpretation, unedited

synopsis: you swore that you would leave the fortress of meropide when your sentence was done. And when you do, your relationship with wriothesley sours as your two break up. Five years later, you're shocked to end up right back in the iron prison where he’s there waiting for you.

The world seemed so distant to you. The whispering throughout sounded as if it were an untuned violin as they lapped up the drama they so desperately craved in their lives. The Oratrice Mécanique D'analyse Cardinale clicked in the irritating orchestra about to come up with its verdict.

The lawyer next to you fumbled with his papers with a look of shame and defeat in his eyes. Out of everyone in this room, you felt for him. He would surely bounce back with the next chum in your position.

The loud smacking of a cane caused the whispering to dissipate as you finally lifted your head up to witness the Iudeux of Fontaine.His eyes seemed heavy with sorrow. This wasn’t the first time you had witnessed this expression directed at you. Your eyes flickered to your God, Furina yawning as she whispered something to herself in her boredom.

You can’t help feeling irked at her expression; at all of their expressions.

Why were these people allowed to judge you?

The only answer you could find was justice was only for the privileged lucky, and you clearly had run out of it.

The contraption glowed, as Neuvillette collected your sentence.

“Under Article D of the Fontainian Code of Law, you are found guilty of fraud. Under Article J of Fontainian Law, you are found guilty of tax evasion…” he rambled on as you bit your lip.

It seemed that the rumors were right, after all. Most people who come out of the Fortress of Meropide find themselves right back in.

”And finally you are guilty of 1st degree murder of your former business partner, Henry Maugham. As a result, you will be serving a life sentence at the Fortress of Meropide,” Neuvillette announced.

You couldn’t help chuckling, covering your mouth from the cruel smile on your face. The whispering sparked once more, heavy eyes judging every movement you made. You finally lifted your hand away, smiling at the judge, but your eyes remained cold on Neuvillette’s somber ones

”Glad to see you never change, Monsieur."

The Melusine officers escorted you down to the Meropide, with only a small sack of clothes you were allowed to bring. From the photos, to the pat downs, it all seemed nostalgic to you. How many familiar faces would you see? You assumed quite a few.

This underwater prison you desperately wanted to escape from in the past, would be your sole future.

Finally finished with orientation, you threw your sack on your assigned bed sitting down, looking down on the steel ground. With the bed squeaking, your roommates whisper, feeling the heavy air as they make their escape and let you have some space.

Just as you sigh, thankful to have the room briefly to yourself to process, credit coupons hovered in your view as you looked up to see a tiny girl. Her long ear twitched in anticipation, ruby eyes gleaming at you, but at the same time, held pity in them.

”It’s nice to see you again. I really thought I wouldn’t have the opportunity once you left five years ago,” she chimed, brushing a bit of her baby blue hair.You looked at the tickets trying to give it back to her silently but she puffed her cheeks and shook her head.

”No! Think about it like this; this is for all the birthdays I missed,” she reasoned. You sighed, moving to massage the headache threatening to form.

-”...Sigwienne…why are you here? I’m sorry but-”

”Don’t apologize!” she interrupted, ears slightly drooping. “I, of all people, knew how much you wanted to get out. I-I’m here because the Duke wanted to see you.”

”No.”

”Please! I thought you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore,” she pleaded as eyes blew wide, pleading.Your gaze grew more bitter:

“So he sent you to soften the blow or some shit,” you grunted. Sigwienne furrowed her eyebrows in disappointment before you clicked your tongue catching your mistake.

”Sorry…language. I know…” you muttered. Your eyes looked up to see a guard at the door, glaring down at you. It seems she was the nice “cop” and if you kept refusing her, he would get involved. You turn back to Sigwienne’s pleading gaze.

”Fine. Lead the way…” you grumbled getting up from your place. Sigwienne smiled, clasping her tiny hand with yours.

”Off we go then!”

The only solace Sigwienne gave was a timid smile, waving as the door to the Duke’s office closed, leaving you with a man you haven’t seen in five years.

Your former boyfriend. Honestly, the man you naively thought you’d have happily ever after with.

He took a sip of tea before sighing, throwing papers on his desk as he leaned into his chair that creaked from the shifting weight. His hair was the same, black with odd streaks of gray hair he always had. He had a few new piercings on his ears though.

”In all these years, I didn’t think I’d see your face again,” he murmured.Your jaw tense and eyes narrowed. His voice seemed as irritating as he’s ever been.

“You think I wanted you to see your sorry ass again, Wriothelsey?” you barked back. -He clicked his tongue, rolling his icy eyes.

“I can see you’re not over our breakup..” he grumbled, drumming his fingers on the desk. You crossed your eyes, looking down with him with all the defiance you could muster up.

”If that’s what you want to call you being a selfish prick, sure,” you replied back.Wriothesley's nostrils flared but he didn’t spout any insults back.

”I thought you said you wanted to change for the better,” he asked, grabbing a file and holding it up. Of course he knew everything. He knew the second you were preparing to dive down to the Meropide.

”I did and I was. As if I wanted to come down here again. You know that out of everyone! But, I forgot something, people are cruel. And now, I’m stuck here for the rest of my life,” you raised your hands out, proclaiming loudly.

”...Just like you wanted.”

”I did not want that and you know it!” he shouted. It seemed his temper had started to reflect out. Tension was thick in the air as you laughed.

”Oh, right. My mistake. No you wanted to stay in this shithole and be the king of it, how could I forget? Your heart only had room for one person—the Meropide— not me!”

He rose from his seat, face beginning to go red in anger.

”Don’t! I’m not playing this game with you! You know how much I loved you. I loved you so much but you knew there’s nothing out there for me.”

Nails dug in your palms hearing his response as your emotions were beginning to get to you.

“Well you would have made something with ME out there!” you yelled, tears beginning to weld in your eyes. You turned away, wiping your tears and shuttered. You felt embarrassed being right in the same position as you were when the two of you first broke up and crying in front of him again after years.

”...I wanted us to build a new life together. Our sentences finished at the same time. You could have left with me, but you didn’t,” you whispered, angrily wiping your face. Silence fell the both of you besides your occasional sniffle and his heavy footsteps walking closer to you.

-”...And I wanted us to build a new life together here. But I wasn’t going to stop you from getting out of the Meropide.”

A frustrated grunt ripped from you as you couldn’t hold your irritation anymore. You marched to him, glaring at his form towering over you.

To your surprise, he leaned down and kissed you. And shocking you both, you kissed him back with just as much fervor.

”Selfish. Blockheaded. Smug dick--” you stammered out among the heated kisses, claiming your lips with every second. Nibbling on your bottom lip, his tongue darted in your parted mouth as you threw your arms around his shoulder. His kiss was of the familiar taste of Earl Grey you remembered he was so fond of.

“Moody, Frustrating, Manipulative asshole,” he grunted back. Article after article of clothing, fell on the floor as you fell onto his couch with a plop. Your hands ran across his firm stomach and chest.You gasped feeling his large palm cup against your sex.

”Still wearing the same underwear I smuggled in for our anniversary. I see you’re still a cheapskate or are you just sentimental?” he grunted in your ear. His finger firmly brushed across your clit, pleasure soon beginning to reverberate throughout your lower form. You groan, hitting his toned thigh.

”Shut the fuck up!”

Wriothesley slid your panties down until they caught on your ankle as his fingers glided along the bare cunt. He rubbed your clit with his calloused thumb.

”I see you still have rough ass hands,” you chimed. Wriothesley rolled his eyes, before chuckling.

”Yet you can’t get enough of them as always” he shot back. Fingers slowly sank inside of you as you threw your head back. His digits curled and stretched you out, tenderly pumping at a decent pace as you squirmed under his touch.

His hips bucked slightly against your thigh where you could feel how hard his cock was, desperately pressed against his gray slacks.He hitched your legs over his broad shoulders as he nibbled your inner thighs—leaving a wake of discolored marks and soft bite marks.

”Fuck! Fuck!”you whined out, hands shooting out to pull his soft hair. Your legs caved in closer to his cheeks as he pumped his faster.

He leaned in, letting his tongue brush against your clit as it was the last thing to push you over. Back arched, fluid spraying from you as he continually lapped at your overstimulated cunt as the liquid made a mess of his face and the couch.

As your body fell, breath heavy from your high, his fingers pulled out of you—walls unconsciously tightening, wishing they would stay. Satisfied with your fucked out expression, he smirked wiping his hand with his chin from your fluids. You narrow your eyes at him, watching him swirl his tongue around cleaning his fingers that were coated in your essence.

”Your face, it’s pissing me off,” you grunted. Wriothesley briefly laughed. Your heart fluttered momentarily. You hated how much you missed it.

“Said the person who squirted on my face. Been a long time hasn’t it, hm?” he teased. You glared before his eyes softened to something genuine.

”..Yeah, me too.”

He sat on his couch, shifting his pants down as his cock slapped on his lower stomach

He stroked his length as it pulsated in his grip. Every once and a while, a wavering moan left his lips. It seemed he had a new piercing too.

A Prince Albert piercing, glinting from the light and precum budding at his flushed tip.You shifted your hips, contemplating if you should go to the next step of someone that was your ex, but seeing him shutter, muffling his mouth and hearing your name was the push you needed.

”Fuck I missed you inside of me,” you groaned, kissing him. You hovered over his cock lining yourself up before sinking down. His hands found their way to the globe of your ass, grabbing the mounds tightly before you managed to reach his hilt.

”Like old times…” he whispered out, hazy lust gazing over his eyes.

”Just like it…” you moaned.

His pace was relentless as you called out his name. His jaw was clenched, watching your slick dripped down your thighs and his cock as he continued to slam you down on it. Your whole body jumped, as his hips moved up to meet him pulling you down his cock.

”I missed you so fucking much. Your smile. Your voice…fuck your scent. I couldn’t sleep properly for months when you left.” he groaned.

”I-I couldn’t either…fuck! There! Right there!!” you yelled out. HIs cock continued to press against your soft walls, hitting the spot that caused your voice to reach higher and higher, stomach churning as you almost hit your release.

“ ‘Thesley,” you cried out, nails harpooning into his back as you brought him closer to you. Your body shuttered, walls quivering and tightening. He clenched his jaw, having a harder time bouncing you on his cock.

”...I still fucking love you!” Wriothesley grunted, sinking his teeth into your neck. With one final rough thrust— his hips faltered—as thick ropes of cup jet out and inside of you. He slowly thrusted, moving to try to nurse down his high.

You shifted your neck, leaning his chin up before you kissed him once more.

For a second, just for a second, it was like you never left him. That you two were still together.That you were in your early twenties, dumb and in love.

Wriothesley broke the kiss first as your fantasy was briefly shattered. His eyes were soft but clearly searching for something within yours.

“...You still never told me why you are back here,” he replied. You groaned, and rolled your eyes pushing his face away as he grunted. You rose from him, his cum and your slick drooling from your hole before you went to grab your panties and put them back on.

Wriothesley merely sighed, lifting his boxers and pants back on.

”...I was framed,” you admitted, putting your bra on. Just as Wriothesley was about to put his shirt on, he looked up in shock.

”What”

”Out there, I owned a small cute cafe. You know the one I always talked about based on a beloved classic, Les Aventures d’Alice au Pays des Merveilles,” you chuckled to yourself, recalling reading it to Sigwienne with Wriothesley at times.

“ I didn’t have funds. Who would fund an ex-convict, y’know. But I met Henry, the aristocrat who promised my dreams. I thought things were going well until I discovered he had used the business as a front to sell absinthe.” You looked down, finally buttoning your shirt on and looking at Wriothesley’s somber face.

“He tried to kill me, I killed him first.”

Wriothelsey briefly closed his eyes processing the information before buttoning his own shirt.

“..But you know this country more than anyone else. He had power after death, and I was pinned with the crime by his frustrated associates,” you whispered, adjusting your color to hide the marks you knew Wriothesley left.

“I can help. We can catch them and get you back--”

“There’s no point.” you sighed, but smiled. You chuckled humorlessly, walking to the door to his office. You clenched the handle, your back turned to hide your expression.

Your real expression.

”I guess I wasn’t meant to be out there after all."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley scenarios #gi smut #wriothesley angst

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joelsgreys · 5 months

Text

when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.

*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.

He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.

He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.

There are more important things on his mind.

Capturing Pablo Escobar.

Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.

Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.

Those were his priorities while in Colombia.

Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.

And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”

Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.

He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”

“It’s a homemade what now?”

“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”

Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”

Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”

“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”

Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.

Because he’s doing this for you.

Because he knows you love Christmas.

Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.

The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but emptiness this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.

“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”

Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.

You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.

“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.

“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”

Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.

The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.

You were tough as fucking nails.

In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.

But Javier knew your family was your weakness.

His weakness?

His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.

“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”

You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”

Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.

“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”

“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”

“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”

You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”

Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.

About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.

“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”

Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.

He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.

The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.

“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.

“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.

“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”

He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.

Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.

“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”

Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.

You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.

Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”

Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”

You approach him, your hands curled into fists.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”

Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.

He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.

“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”

You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”

Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.

You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”

“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”

Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”

He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”

You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.

He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.

“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”

Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.

“Cierra tus ojos.”

“Javier, I don’t want—”

He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”

Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.

And not just because it’s a job requirement.

Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.

“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”

“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”

Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.

Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”

You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.

His surprise had left you speechless.

Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.

“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.

You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”

He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.

“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”

“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”

Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”

Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”

Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Why did you do this for me?”

Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”

“But why?”

You know why.

But you need to hear him say it.

You need to hear it from his own mouth.

Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”

“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”

Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”

He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”

Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”

“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.

“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”

Javier’s chuckles softly.

“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Javi, what the hell are you—?”

He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

“Connie said this might come in handy.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.

“Ven aqui, Peña.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.

He tastes like yours.

And he feels like home.

diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️

Translations

Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.

No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.

Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.

Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.

Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.

Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.

Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?

Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.

Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.

Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fluff #narcos fanfiction #javier peña one shot #javier peña drabble #12 days of pedro

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justporo · 8 months

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Do you have any headcanons on what Astarion and Tav's home would look like? :)

You bet, I do! But I put some more thought into it over the day so may I present you with:

Domestic headcanons about what Tav's and Astarion's home in Baldur's Gate would look like

After your adventures and some looting of certain castles you go to buy a small but luxurious townhouse in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate - probably criminally under its actual worth but you two are just so convincing, aren't you?

Dark wooden floors, high windows (with thick brocade curtains of course), wrought-iron balcony and fence - it's giving gothic and dark academia but in a homey and warm way

Soft lighting everywhere, lots of candles and candelabra, a fire place of course and oil lanterns that make every room feel warm and cozy

Astarion has impeccable taste and enjoys a bit of decadence (of course) and really finds joy in picking out furniture and decorations - he's going for noble, rich, palace-y, posh vibes, but tasteful

Also Tav would stop him from going overboard - she's not used to all the pompous stuff and cares more about the pracitcality of it all; also she's definitely the one who brings in some plants and greenery; also some nice stuff for Scratch because I'm sure Tav would insist on being the one to keep him

When Tav says she'd rather likes it simple tho... "Simple, love? Everyone can have simple, but not just anyone can have beautiful!" "So... you are not denying that beautiful means more complicated?" "No, but isn't that also why you chose me after all? Because I'm intricately complicated and incredibly beautiful?" Can't argue with that logic

Tav's also focused on making it cozy though and especially creating comfy little corners where they can just lounge together: like a little alcove to sit and read or look out the window or some pillows on the wood floor so you can sit in front of the fire place

There's a chaise-longue somewhere in the house - maybe in the incredibly over-sized dressing room, so Astarion can lay on it and watch Tav dress

DEFINITELY NO MIRRORS - no need to remind Astarion of that particular part of his condition; also why would he need it if you can tell him how beautiful he is everyday?

There's also a piano (as we have learnt before *wink*) and lots of books and trinkets and artworks - Astarion likes all stuff having to do with arts

It might be messy, at least at the beginning, you're both not used to having and holding onto stuff, also Astarion's desperately trying to find himself - that comes with creative chaos

Is there even a need to mention the bed is huge? And also has very much cliché dark red silk sheets? But it's probably the piece of furniture where you spend the most of your nights, not only for mingeling but just sitting and laying there, reading, drawing, talking, teasing each other

Also at some point you'd probably get a joint portrait but you don't want it to be too stiff and regal rather wanting it to show how much joy you give each other

The kitchen is to spoil Tav: when Astarion finds out you enjoy cooking and are pretty skilled at it he gets you all the best equipment he can find - even though you don't know how to use half of it - yet

Oof, I could maybe keep going some more... Thanks for the message, it was fun to think about this. (Also I know I might be swinging between medieval and more victorian vibes but hush, it's a fictional world where everything is possible) Also I knew I wouldn't yet do requests - but really that was just me putting something out there I already thought about. And I'll do some requests soon!

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theloveinc · 11 months

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any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟

whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3

(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)

Miguel O'Hara

- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.

It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!

...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.

- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.

Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.

- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.

No. No sir.

(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)

- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).

Hobie Brown

- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭

You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.

- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.

Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."

HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????

(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)

- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:

"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.

#miguel o'hara x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie #miguel #atsv #LOL THIS WAS SO FUNNNN I HOPE ITS OK TO READ #I'M EBARASSED THO SO YEEET #SORRY I BAD AT TAGS LATELY WAHH #caitie things #gen #anon

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radioisntdead · 1 month

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Hi can I request alastor x Vox's sister reader? Reader isn't a tech demon like Vox and kinda the opposite of when it comes to technology.

Basically the equivalent of someone who's so bad at cooking they could burn water except with technology. And maybe Vox didn't know they were down in hell and only found out well spying on Alastor and reader accidently does that destroys a tech thing.

You dont have to do it if you'd dint want to and sorry its so long I hope it's not to weird or specific.

Good evening My dear! I may have gone slightly overboard, I had fun with this request!

You know where to find me, I know where to look.

Alastor x female reader, Vox & sister reader

Warnings!!

Vox being a creepy lil tv creeper, implied Radiosilence, Alastor plots to take out the reader at one point, both reader and Alastor are on the Aroace spectrum, Am I projecting a little? Yes

Reader has beef with microwaves, not proof read apologies for any spelling mistakes, Leaning into fanon territory here! Ending a little scrambled because it's 7 am and I am supposed to be up in three hours.

Vox's sister was something he didn't talk about often or at all, maybe a brief whisper of "[Name] would like this"

when he saw something she would like but nothing more, while Vox had managed to live up until the 50's you had died before him, a unspecified illness had taken your life, he suspected it was from you over working yourself but he couldn't prove it, all he knew was that you were more then likely in heaven with the angels, probably doing whatever you please.

He'd like to see his sister again after all the two of you were little troublemakers growing up, sneakily stealing the freshly baked cookies your mother made, spraying the neighbors son with the hose when he shoved Vox onto the ground or throwing rotten eggs at the neighbors other son who tried to pull your pigtails, although you did fight a fair amount, with you chasing him down with a baseball bat after he had broken the head off of your doll one time.

When the war took the life of your father and heartbreak took your mother's years after, when the two of you were in the middle of your teenage years, the two of you only had each other, you had each other's backs, even if you disapproved of your brothers obsession with the up and coming TV technology, it worked in his favor once he landed a job working with it, managing to scramble up the connections to get you a nice job as some guys secretary, it paid well and the guy wasn't stupid enough to mess around with Vox's sister.

To his knowledge you didn't get involved in the field politics like he did, where he trampled over the weak ones, stealing ideas and parading them off as his own when his own ideas were rejected, And the other things he did to get to the top, you were a decent person, a woman far beyond her time one would say.

However unknown to him his sister was causing up trouble in her own right, finding the weak spots of her bosses and exploiting them via blackmail or something amongst those lines, and if they refused to be blackmailed by her? Not even giving her a pretty penny to keep her mouth shut about their affairs? Their deals? Their tax fraud? Well the newspaper would have a field day with the scoop she anonymously dropped off.

Both siblings were doomed to fall below, maybe if they had perished around the same time they wouldn't had been separated, maybe she would've even joined the Vee's!

But they perished separately, years apart.

You met Alastor not long after dying, the deer radio host befriending you rather quickly.

Deer were ironically one of your favorite animals, and you always did prefer the radio as opposed to your brothers television, maybe that's why you foolishly put your trust in a friendship with Alastor, that was repaid with the Radio demon reluctantly falling for your charms, you falling for his,and not with him trying to eat you or making a deal with him and taking your soul.

Vox similarly had met Alastor after he had perished, and they were on friendly terms up until Alastor had, to be blunt rejected Vox's proposal, and then vanished for seven years.

Not once in those years of supposed friendship did Vox learn about you, he didn't even know the radio demon had a spouse, let alone that it was his own sister,

It's not that Alastor was ashamed of you or anything, he simply didn't think Vox was important enough to introduce you too, even when you were considered just a good friend and not his spouse, he considered Vox a supposed, one friend but not to the level of Rosie for example,

Rosie was the first person to know about you

Most types of modern technology would fizzle out or explode in your hands, you learned this the hard way after purchasing a flip phone and it exploded in your hands once you turned it on.

Alastor did NOT let you live that down, saying that it was your fault for trusting in faulty modern technology, eventually after some experimenting with random technology it was discovered that anything from the 2000's forward were practically expensive bombs for you,

Alastor took great joy in snatching up modern electronics and placing them in your hands to be rid of them before taking care of the unfortunate sinner that owned them, either making a snack out of them or taking their soul in a deal.

You didn't mind it much, was it somewhat inconvenient? Yes without a doubt, everyone kept their electronics away from you, you could be talking to Angel and he'd slide his phone far away from you, was that a bit much? Probably but if he pissed you off enough for whatever reason you could just reach over and BOOM no more phone!

Vox being the nosey control freak he was, used his devices to lurk around the hotel, and for plot related reasons managed to sneak into the hotel undetected with a remote control car with a camera the size of a hot wheels, at first he didn't see much, The princess and her girlfriend having a little date, The cat bartender and Angel Dust chatting while drinking, Niffty traumatizing baby bugs, blah blah boring stuff to him,

However he perked up as he spotted the radio demon, in the kitchen for whatever reason, cooking away, coat put to the side, sleeves rolled up, tail exposed, chopping up celery, bell peppers, garlic and onions while humming a tune,

Vox watched in stalkerish excitement as Alastor chopped the vegetables to prep for the meal he was making, it wasn't anything to be excited about but he was anyway,

Vox's expression changed from excitement to displeasure as someone walked into the kitchen, Joyfully calling out for Alastor while holding up a bag of what looked to be groceries,

Alastor turned, tail moving swiftly back and forth at the sight of his beloved spouse you moved forwards, just barely brushing against Vox's little spy car causing it to burst into flames.

Simultaneously causing Vox to break out in a sting of curses while you and Alastor looked at each other in confusion, before your face twisted into one of frustration, assuming you had bumped into some type of kitchen gizmo

"Can I NOT touch kitchen appliances anymore?!"

"Settle down dearest, and put down the produce please."

Vox came back at later date with another hot wheel camera, managing to sneak into the hotel when Angel dust opened the hotel doors to leave, this time Vox was determined to avoid whatever had caused the first device to explode,

There wasn't anything worth wild for him, The princess was scrambling with papers, the king of hell surrounded himself with ducks for some apparent reason?? Alastor was nowhere to be seen, but the person he was with in the kitchen was, sat at the bar listening to Niffty explain fanfiction while the bartender nursed a drink muttering something about being too sober for that.

Vox squinted as he zoomed closer to you, he stared for a few minutes before recognizing you as his sister, you looked different then when you were alive but it was without a doubt you.

Why the fuck were you down here?! And why were you in the hotel?! Did you know he was here?! Probably not considering he had a TV for a head now and went by Vox instead of whatever normal human name he had before.

Vox observed for the next couple of days, catching on that you and most modern technology did NOT mix, you had taken down twenty-five of his hot wheel cameras just by nicking them, you also had weird beef with Microwaves, sometimes they worked for you, and others times they fizzled down and refuses to work for you,

It annoyed you to no end especially when you were trying to eat a microwaved meal behind Alastor's back.

He wondered what would happen if you touched his head at all, would he explode? He didn't want to find out.

You hadn't changed much from when the two of you were alive, maybe more outgoing and confident but you were still the sister he grew up with, he debated on whether he should reach out, what would he say?

'hey sister, it's been a couple of decades I've been watching you? Join the Vees!'

that's not a normal thing to say, Not to mention Alastor more then likely wouldn't let him get near you

He found that you and Alastor were close, too close for his liking, cooking together, the two of you would dance together, Alastor would bite you when the two of you were allegedly alone, and the two of you even shared a room!

Was Vox in denial about the obvious? Yes, yes he was.

On one side there was that sibling protectiveness on the other he was jealous because why didn't Alastor treat him like he did you when they were on good terms?! Why didn't he? Was this why he turned him down on joining the Vee's?

Was it because of you? How long have the two of you known each other? Why didn't Alastor mention you to him? Did Alastor not trust him during their friendship? Of course he didn't, he was a heartless cannibalistic deer with gross deer hooves,

Clearly you were being held hostage or something, maybe you sold your soul to Alastor?

Alastor was clearly using you for his own entertainment like he had with Vox during their friendship, after All Alastor could never love another person, he was incapable of it.

But he wasn't incapable of it, you weren't an exception to Alastor's Alastory-ness, and he wasn't an exception to your you-ness

Neither you or Alastor were big on the whole romance thing,

You, in life didn't care much for it preferring to focus your time and energy on blackmailing folks and saving enough money to do whatever your heart desired and Alastor was similar, only instead of blackmail and money it was his radioshow and murder.

And that didn't change after death, even after you met Alastor.

You honestly couldn't pinpoint when you and Alastor fell for each other, it came slow like a horror movie where a serial killer was coming up behind the victim, no one noticing the killer until it was too late,

It got you first, at first you thought he just got bumped up from a good friend to a close friend, then a best friend and that's why you were so fond of him,

Until you started wishing to do unholy things,

Like holding hands, or petting his ears!

The minute you figured out what the budding feelings that had begun to weave themselves inside you,

you resulted to shoving them down, hopefully hiding them away until they disappeared completely, or until you gaslit yourself enough that they never existed in the first place, that it was just heartburn or something,

but that didn't happen, they just got stronger up until the point where it hurt, until you had to physically distance yourself from Alastor in hopes they subsided.

Alastor on the other hand, had it slightly worse,

For him it didn't hit him in small gaps like it did for you, it hit him all at once,

he legitimately thought he had somehow gotten deathly ill, perhaps he had gotten cursed? Maybe he wasn't as fond of you as he thought and instead hated your guts for whatever reason?

But if that was the case why did he yearn for your presence? Especially after you for some reason distanced yourself from him?

Why did he desire to chat with you? Why did he wish to cook you a meal and have a lovely dinner with just the two of you??

He eventually went to Rosie, his most trusted friend with this problem

his smile was strained when Rosie laughed at his troubles and told him he was, shockingly more then likely in love.

He acted like he was just told he had an incurable disease, like rabies.

Eventually he got to the point where he decided he should just take you out, in a murder way he couldn't afford a weak spot that he couldn't control,

However he couldn't go through with it when you showed up unannounced to his home, a frown present on your lovely face, you acted like a guilty child who had just stolen a batch of freshly baked cookies, you carried two folders and a board, and you asked him to hear you out as he let you inside,

You began to set up what one can only describe as one of those conspiracy theory boards, only instead of a conspiracy it was explaining how you managed to fall for Alastor, that he didn't necessarily have to return those feelings, and why he should let you live after knowing this information.

Thankfully before you could begin setting anything other then the board up and a few skeins of different colored yarn out, Alastor grabbed you by your shoulders and reluctantly told you that he adored you for some forshaken reason.

And that was that, nothing was ever officially labeled until a ring was put onto your finger many many years later, but it was comfortable, you stayed true to each other, you never went further then a light kiss or a cuddle, the two of you would be deemed odd for a couple, sometimes invalidated by folks who didn't know how to mind their own business, but they were usually dealt with quickly.

You adored Alastor, and He adored you in return.

And that was evident as he twirled you around his radio tower, Vox's hotwheel mini camera watching from the corner.

Soft jazz played as you were pulled back into Alastor's arms, a laugh escaping your throat as you smiled at him, taking a quick moment to reach your hand out and hold Alastor's face, planting a soft smooch on him before pulling away.

At that point Vox was disturbed and a peng of jealousy ran through him, one, because no one wants to see their sister doing that to their ARCH NEMESIS, and second of all, Out of everyone in hell, why did he have to choose you?

Yes you were nice, he guessed, but he's seen you be a feral little menace when the two of you were young, Alastor could do better [No he couldn't]

What did you have that Vox DIDN'T? Sure you didn't have a giant tv for a head but you also weren't an overlord like he was, you didn't have the connections he did, you didn't have a whole company that dominated the tech industry, you didn't HAVE what he did.

But you did have what he desperately wanted

You have Alastor's heart,

You get the adoring looks, you get the whispers of pure affection, you get to dance with him, you get Alastor.

No matter what Vox did, Alastor would never look at him the way he did you, he would never give him the look of pure affection, he would never ask him to dance, he would never give him his heart.

And that tore Vox apart.

So If he couldn't have Alastor, Neither could you.

To him, You either needed to get redeemed quickly and go up above or you were going to be joining the Vee's, whether you liked it or not.

Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! I know I said Rosie headcanons where supposed to be up next but I ran into some technical difficulties [my writing app crashed and a big chunk of it got deleted so I am not happy about that] anywho, Vox is a funky TV dude and I like the implications that he's lovesick about Alastor,

I need to finish my Vox fic because he's toxic there.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #vox x reader #alastor imagine #radiosilence

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