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floralcyanide · 10 months

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𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 - 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞

jonathan crane x f!reader

“I broke apart my insides, I’ve got no soul to sell. The only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself.” “I wanna fuck you like an animal, I wanna feel you from the inside." "You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.”

warnings: smut, rough sex, choking, first time, penetrative sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, spitballing, cum eating, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking/ deepthroating, nipple play, orgasm denial, porn with some plot, pwp, wow there's a lot here lol

word count: 2316

authors note: if Dr. Jonathan Crane has a million fans, then I'm one of them. if Dr. Jonathan Crane has one fan, then I'm THAT ONE. if Dr. Jonathan Crane has no fans, that means I'm dead. anyway, I love this man and his character so much, so I had to be feral about him. he's so pretty, and for what??? also Closer by NIN is soooo Jonathan-coded. I don't make the rules. (not beta read, we die like men here)

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Six months have passed, and you’ve yet to have any form of sex with your boyfriend, Dr. Jonathan Crane. You get that he’s busy most of the time and doesn’t really hold sex to a high standard like most men do. But god, you wanted him to have your way with you already. Jonathan looks like he was hand sculpted by the gods themselves with his piercing blue eyes, strong jawline, and perfect lips. You’d do anything to have his stunning face between your legs. And you seriously mean anything at this point. Both of you trust each other with your lives. Jonathan has taken a while to open up to you, and the last thing he’s yet to show you about himself is his sexuality.

For the last week, every time you so much as kiss Jonathan, you get irrevocably turned on. Sometimes he’ll give into you and let his tongue explore your mouth, but then he’ll pull away with a satisfied smirk. It’s almost as if he teases you on purpose. But then again, you doubt Jonathan would do it for this long, purposely depriving you of physical affection. But the things he does, don’t surprise you anymore. He could very well be torturing you without you realizing it.

Everything changes when you stay at Jonathan’s apartment one night. You take a shower and put on your favorite pair of matching lace underwear and a shirt you stole from Jonathan’s dresser the first time you came over. You have no makeup on, you’ve just finished brushing your teeth for bed, and you haven’t put on any pants as of yet. The hem of the shirt is tucked into your underwear unbeknownst to you. So, when Jonathan walks into his bedroom, he sees you standing in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom with his old white t-shirt inside your bright red underwear. You barely notice his eyes turn three shades darker as you go to rinse your mouth.

Jonathan comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you’re ducked into the sink, spitting out the remainder of your toothpaste. He presses himself against your ass when it sticks out as you bend over. You don’t pay much attention to Jonathan and him being close to you. He was surprisingly clingy. But when you stand up straight and look at him behind you in the mirror’s reflection, you notice his features are much darker than usual.

“Are you-“ You begin to ask if Jonathan is okay, but before you can finish your sentence, his mouth attaches itself to your neck.

With his hands splayed across your stomach underneath your- his shirt, he pulls your hair away from your shoulder. Jonathan then makes eye contact with you in the mirror as his hands travel up your abdomen to your breasts. He gives them a harsh squeeze as he bites down into the skin between your neck and shoulder. You hiss at the feeling of Jonathan being so close to you, touching you like this. You wonder what’s gotten into him but push that thought aside when his fingertips delve past the lace covering your nipples. You gasp as Jonathan circles one with his index finger, licking up your neck and jaw slowly until he reaches the side of your face.

“You look irresistible,” Jonathan breathes into your ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you ask, biting your lip in anticipation.

Jonathan picks up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you over to his bed, where he all but gently throws you onto it. Before you can react, Jonathan is on top of you, ripping your underwear clean off your legs.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” Jonathan coos, pushing the shirt up and over your head before unclasping your bra next.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” you sigh, tugging at his white button-up that he’s yet to change out of.

“I think I have an idea of how long. Show me how bad you want it,” Jonathan says, moving his hands off of you completely.

The urge to rip the man in front of you apart bubbles up in your lower stomach, and you sit on your knees in front of Jonathan. You rip his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere in the room. You leave open-mouthed kisses on his chest as he slides his fingers through your hair, gripping it harshly as he pulls your head back so you can look at him. You stare at him unwaveringly; your eyes half-lidded with growing lust. After studying the smirk on your face, Jonathan lets go of you, and you immediately go for the button and zipper of his trousers. Unbuckling his belt, you yank it out of the belt loops and toss it on the floor. You pull his pants down his hips far enough for you to get where you want. Pulling Jonathan’s cock out, you marvel at it momentarily before taking his head into your warm mouth. There was no way you’d be able to take all of him without gagging, but you’re going to try anyway. You’ve waited too long for this.

“Fuck,” Jonathan keens as you swivel your tongue around him, gathering his precum.

He realizes he’s definitely waited too long for this.

But he has been nervous about being vulnerable around you. He actually cares about you, believe it or not. And doesn’t want to hurt you- not severely, anyway. Only as much as you’ll let him.

Before Jonathan can tell you to hurry up and take his cock, you slam your nose into his pelvis, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. He lets out the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard, sending heat straight to your bare core. You’re impossibly wet, rubbing your thighs together as you bob your head along Jonathan’s length with fervor. You let him thrust into your mouth as you helplessly gag around him, spit dribbling down your chin as tears fall from your eyes. Jonathan face fucks you, and you simply take it, enjoying every second of his perfect cock in your mouth. Your fingernails dig into his hips, causing him to bite his lip as he looks down at you. You peek up at him through your eyelashes, pulling him out of your mouth and flicking your tongue on his head. Suddenly, your face is ripped away from his body.

“Lay back on the bed like a good girl for me,” Jonathan growls, your hair in a vice grip in his hand once again.

You quickly crawl to the pillows, lying down as Jonathan discards the rest of his clothing, completely naked and revealed to you at last. You scan his body, freckles dotting the places his clothing hides. They’re not just dusted along his cheeks but his shoulders too. His back is also covered in constellation-like freckles. Jonathan tries not to notice you studying him, but he can’t help but drink in your appearance too. How your waist and hips make the perfect shape, how your breasts are perked up from your arousal, and how your skin looks in the room's lighting. Jonathan looks perfect to you, and you look flawless to him.

“Beautiful,” Jonathan sighs, kissing your ankle and up your calf until he meets your thigh.

Your breath hitches as his face lingers at your pussy, right where you need him, but then he goes to your other thigh and sucks a mark into your skin there. You throw your legs over his shoulders, and he tilts his head to the side, looking at you with that sassy yet emotionless look of his.

“Impatient, are we?” Jonathan asks, hovering his lips right over you as his breath hits the sensitive, wet skin.

“Very,” you drawl, glaring at him playfully, “I’ve waited six months for you to eat me out, you know.”

“I’m aware,” Jonathan says, his eyes carefully taking in your anatomy, “I want to make it well worth it, dear.”

You reach down and rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his head closer to you. Jonathan wordlessly attacks your folds, licking intense stripes up and down your slit. He’ll circle your clit with the tip of his tongue before flicking it back and forth on the bundle of nerves, causing you to entangle your fingers deeper into his hair. Jonathan then takes both hands and spreads you open, flattening his tongue and shaking his head vigorously as he laps at you like a thirsting man.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, thrusting into his face.

Jonathan sneaks a finger into your entrance, curling it against the spongy spot he finds inside you. He strokes it teasingly to the same rhythm of his tongue against your clit. You clamp your thighs against the sides of Jonathan’s head, essentially trapping him. He slips another finger into you, slamming them in and out of you as the sound of your arousal bounces off the walls.

“That feel good, baby?” Jonathan hums, his mouth pulling away from you despite your thighs, his darkened blue eyes boring into yours.

“Mhmm,” you nod, rocking your hips onto his fingers as he adds a third, stretching you out.

“That’s right, fuck yourself on my fingers,” Jonathan gasps, thrusting them faster and harder into you as his thumb finds your bundle of nerves, pressing into it.

You’re so close that you can already feel the knot in your stomach about to come undone. Your hand finds Jonathan’s cheek, caressing it as his eyes meet yours again. You arch your back close to your peak. But then, Jonathan pulls his fingers from you, tucking them into his mouth as you glare at him. He just chuckles darkly at you before grabbing you by the throat.

“Open your mouth,” he demands.

You obey, Jonathan’s grip on your neck dizzying you. He gathers your slick and his spit in his mouth before spitting it into yours, forcing your mouth closed.

“Now swallow like a good girl,” Jonathan says, holding his hand around your throat once more.

You taste yourself on your tongue, swallowing the spit as you were told.

Jonathan’s hand travels to your face as his thumb pulls your mouth open so he can thoroughly inspect it, “Perfect.”

He sits up, spreading your legs further open so he can line himself up with your begging entrance. Gathering some of the wetness there, Jonathan pushes himself into you slowly. Your hand flies to his shoulder blades, your nails digging into his pale skin. Finally, Jonathan fills you up completely, his hips flush against yours. You throw your head back at the feeling of fullness, the sting of the stretch turning into pleasure.

“God, Jonathan,” you move your hips a little, “You feel amazing.”

“You’re so tight it’s almost ridiculous,” Jonathan dryly jokes, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he pulls all the way out, then slams back into you.

“Fuck,” you seethe, and one of Jonathan’s hands find their way back to your throat.

He repeats his motion, pulling his hips back then snapping them forward again, gaining a steady pace. You’re a moaning mess as he quickens his rhythm. Jonathan’s face is leant down to your ear as he grunts into it. The headboard begins to slam into the wall behind you, but neither of you care about the dent it’ll probably leave in the drywall.

“Jonathan,” you drawl out in a high pitched cry, his cock hitting your cervix just right.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long to destroy you like this,” Jonathan says in between his groans, “I love seeing you fall apart underneath me.”

Your eyes screw shut, rolling into the back of your head as he fucks you hard and fast, sure enough to leave you sore tomorrow. The sound and smell of sex fills the room as sweat beads on your forehead. You’re moving your hips at the same time as Jonathan, matching his quick and harsh thrusts. He’s hitting every spot within you just right, the shaft of his cock rubbing your clit perfectly every time he pushes it into you. You start seeing stars behind your eyes from the pressure his fingers are putting on your throat and the building orgasm in your stomach.

“God, I wanna cum,” you scream, “Please make me cum,” you’re nearly begging incoherently now.

“Fuck, that’s right, beg me. Show me how long you’ve wanted me to fuck your witty little brains out,” Jonathan says behind gritted teeth, his own orgasm peeking over the horizon.

You start babbling and repeating, “Please,” like a mantra until Jonathan hits a spot within you that causes the stars behind your eyes to explode with white light. You feel yourself gush around him as his thrusts become sloppy, your clenching sending him over the edge. Jonathan spills into you as you both ride out your orgasms, whispering each other’s names weakly.

Jonathan runs a hand over his hair, sitting back as he catches his breath and pulls himself out of you. Your chest heaves as you feel the mixture of your cum and Jonathan’s cum seep from you.

“That was amazing,” you sigh, melting into the mattress.

Jonathan lays down next to you, pulling you into his chest, “We can clean up later. For now, just rest a moment.”

After a brief moment of silence, you finally ask the begging question.

“Why did you wait so long?”

“I was nervous,” Jonathan confesses, “I haven’t let anyone in, in a long time. And I’ve finally let you in enough for you to experience this part of me.”

“I see,” you say, curling your arms around his that are crossed over your breasts.

“Was the wait worth it?” Jonathan asks, burying his face into your neck.

“I think one more round will make it even.”

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2K notes · View notes

argreion · 25 days

Note

"Soft/smutty requests" you say, I can only think about comfort sex.

Putting it in short, reader is having a really bad day, or week, or month, too many thoughts about the future. Leon also is at his limit, back from a mission that lasted two weeks, mf got an injure he can barely stand.

Both exhausted with the head full of shit, not even a word is spoken during dinner, not even to ask why this man walks like he has a stick up to his ass. But when it's time to sleep and the lights off, that's when the heart opens. Cuddle and chatting session to catch up, turning into a slow fuck, full of kisses and the love both starved the time he was gone, of course, careful not to make his wound worse.

May not be a proper request, I've never done one, but feel free to expand the concept!

Sun-kissed

“Words are where most change begins.” — Brandon Sanderson

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — P in V/Riding, soft loving sex turned into Leon wanting pussy 'cause I said so. Lots of praise and sappy talk. A tiny bit of degradation. BIG hint towards cunnilingus. Talk of Leon's pain (suicide talk, drinking, possibly overdose talk cause I forgot if I kept it in. Alongside tiny blood and gore talk if it counts.) Stupid cringey argument over a table, because tables have FEELINGS.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 7.4k

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — So, uh, hi! UHM, I yapped a lot. I actually really enjoyed this! Uhm, I don't think really counts as comfort sex anymore considering this was an ask from two weeks ago BUTTTTT, I did go a lot into comfort and talking and emotions! Think it balances out! Kind of scared to post this but I know I got my moots love on this! Keeps me going! This MIGHT be shittily written cause lazily edited it so if there are mistakes you didn't see anything.

Please, make Leon wear his back brace and take his medication after he's home (P.S. don’t let Leon know we’ll be going to bingo.) — Ingrid.

Your eyes ran over the pastel yellow note from the bottom of Leon’s pill bottle. Standing in the bathroom with a hand on your hip. Brows furrowed at this peculiar find. That was odd, wondering how the government could sneak notes under pill bottles. First, it was learning who Hunnigan was and then realizing what kind of sneaky woman she could be when needed. Felt good to have her as a friend sometimes, even when it was her being on Leon's case.

That was before Leon arrived back at your front door. His arm pressed against the door frame with the most painful grin ever. Leon's teeth clenched and his breath stunk—doubt he even had mouthwash or toothpaste on hand on a mission. Not to mention the dirtied clothes, reeking of gore, and gunpowder. Your nose wrinkled at the smell and your sinuses hated it.

“You stink.” You stated the observation out loud. Hoping he’d explain, but he didn’t.

“Don’t ask about work.”

Leon brushed past you, stumbling against the wall. The grime on his shirt now taints soft colors on the painted wall. Of course, you helped him—that’s human decency—gently pushing the man to sit on the sofa, squeaking as his weight hit the cushions. Watching the dip on the sofa from his weight.

“Well, Leon," You started, reaching out to help him with his shirt. This had become the norm—the one routine you did every time he came back. Strip, bandage, bath, sleep, followed with food after he woke up. “You don't expect me to be curious when you come home stinking of ass? And you're—"

Your words caught in your throat as Leon helped you remove his shirt. Letting the stained fabric fall onto the floor, revealing many things you didn't wish to see—heaven forbid it came from Leon. Cuts, bruising, and a gunshot wound. Anger filled your body as you stared at the artwork. Is this even art? If so, it's beautifully grotesque.

“Don't ask about work, huh?" You repeated, tilting your head with a raised eyebrow. Won't even talk about work, but he'll make hints about Raccoon City like it's nothing. Nobody even knew what happened to Raccoon City still, but many could guess.

“Don't look like that, you'll get more wrinkles." The man smirked, using his fingers to flick your nose. Laughing at you flinching back and smacking at his arm.

“Dipshit, do you think this is the time for jokes!?” Concern boiled over into rage at his nonchalant attitude. Flicking of a nose, a joke, smirking, did he not value himself? Could a man not value himself but rather his looks? The jokes he makes that rarely hit and often made you cringe at the cheesiness.

Sometimes he didn't, did he? A year ago you remember when Chris pulled you along into a bar in Colorado. Colorado. You remember what Chris said without delving too deep into what was your mind,

“I wouldn't want you here unless it was needed. Please, talk to him."

Sitting there with tired eyes he was. A bottle of ‘Aerial Shot’ in his hand. Worn biker gloves with the stench of sweat and unwashed leather. You'd never seen him look so dead before.

The worst part was meeting his gaze. Awkwardly taking those seemingly quiet steps to sit beside him. What do you say to a man that's dying? Leon should've already been dead at this point. Gunshot wound, infected, surviving things. No wonder he never wanted to watch The Walking Dead. Why'd it take you a year to understand that? Guns and brains set him off, as did drinking too much.

“You're probably wondering why I'm here, huh?" You chuckled, staring down at the table. Blessing Chris and Rebecca for the heart-to-heart—one chance to get through to a stubborn man.

No response came from him. Body language said a lot for him instead. Tense, grip tightening on his shot glass. Impregnated silence… Was he that bad at saying a yes or no?

“This is the part where you say yeah, Leon."

He sighed, leaving you alone at the table. Picking the bottle up alongside himself like it's his baby. Did a bottle ever go ‘guu’?

Your hands laced together as you heard the gentle thumps of his boots slowly fading into the background. Chris wasn't happy, you could hear the steam coming from his ears. Wanting to cause a scene because someone was too much of a depressed loner to talk.

No, he just needs something firmer. Strong. Get the damn fucking bastard out and off of his own arse.

You moved out of the chair to follow after Leon. He always disappeared into the bathroom. Hope was something powerful, something you always had for Leon. Hoping he changed slightly, hoping that he could be changed.

Slamming open the bathroom door to reveal that Leon was splashing his face with the sink while washing the ghost that haunted him. Their screams, tearful eyes, the sounds of people eating each other alive. Then there was you coming to lecture him on the right path—something he knew he didn't need.

Your hand grabbed at his shoulder, halting his frantic washing. Overlooking him like his disappointed mother. Brows furrowed like her, too. Made him crumble into shambles as you reminded him so much. Remind him of an angel from the heaven he heard of. Why must you haunt him so?

“Stop avoiding this, Leon."

"You shouldn't be here at all. Chris is an idiot for even bringing you here." He snapped, shrugging your hand off of his shoulder.

He buried his head in his hands, groaning. Alcohol wasn't saving him from this vacation nor the stare of the woman he loved. Where was God when you needed him? Your angel was mean, father, mean for making him realize things.

“Look," you started, moving his hand away from his face. “I'm here on personal matters too, not just because Chris wanted me here."

Your arms encircled him and your chest pressed against his back. Looked like you were a koala on its mama. All snug and warm, despite the smell of a sweaty old man.

“They need you, Leon—I need you." The whisper fell from your mouth and into his ear. How'd animators draw flowing notes of music? Each word hit his heart, especially the last three.

At Leon's core, he was still like he was when he was twenty-one. Human.

Your hands moved over his, holding them. Protecting him from the mental battle in his head. You knew how much it meant to him to have you here. Regardless if it was after a fight, or when he was drinking.

“I know it's probably hard, ok? Killing things, coming home aching, and getting no break. I can't help you because I'm not exactly qualified for what you do, am I?"

The small sounds of you shuffling caught his attention. A small movement and you came into his peripheral vision. Standing there with a kind smile. Please, go away.

"I also know you probably don't want me here either. It hurts to know you can't avoid certain things. You probably couldn't avoid Chris. Just be glad it's me and not him… He's, well, something else with emotions.” You laughed, looking away from him in the mirror. Staring at yourself in the mirror then at him.

Staring at him made you realize a lot. Pain and resentment emanating from him. With each rise and fall of his chest, you could see it more. Even when he met your gaze at the mirror. You wish he got help.

Sometimes the value of man could be seen through gazes, words, and even their hands. Body language said a lot, and so did their responses. You thanked yourself and Chris for helping him become checks today. Well, mostly Chris. Sometimes, you couldn't help but think he needed something normal in his life.

Someone normal.

Something normal to him became jokes like these. Bleeding on a couch and there he was, flicking noses. Kennedy's charm never failed as you were defeated by his nonchalant attitude at home.

“Wrinkles, huh?" You sighed, kissing his forehead gently. Letting your nose rest in his hairline as you thought of what to do.

Ice…? A doctor's visit, too. Guess we're his little booker and Leon's the celebrity. The stunt celebrity who every day seemingly breaks his ass. What a silly comparison you thought of.

“Let's just make sure you're not dying, Leon. And then maybe we can have pasta. Your mother's recipe.”

“Mom's recipe was always good…” He tilted his head up slightly, using his fingers to gently push your head away. Made you flinch as he stood up, excusing himself towards the bathroom. Hearing him yell out towards you,

“And please, stop trying to eat my hair! It's not for sale, and I doubt it ever will be! Not until I'm old and wrinkly, then you can eat it. Scottie's Special Spaghetti!"

Hair spaghetti wasn't the only thing that began to happen. Pills weren't his savior, as were the copious amounts of bandages used. Took an hour for one cut to stop bleeding, and then another started. Drove you to insanity as you stared at another box.

Shuffles across the wooden floor caught your attention. Forgetting the box to opt to peek out the door. Did Leon really not take a doctor's call to rest? Doctor's word was best, and he was too dense to not listen.

There he was, shuffling towards the bathroom where you were. Resting your hand on the door frame, you watched the suffering begin. Annoyed mutters as he finally makes it to the door, giving a smile. Hand on the wall to balance himself.

“You have a stick up your ass walking like that."

Leon huffed, forehead wrinkling at your blunt statement. Spare him a little mercy, he can't sit down. couldn't sit down ever since Spain. He had to help one way or another, didn't sit with him right—Wouldn’t sit with him. “What do you want me to do? I thought we were supposed to help each other." He argued, his grip on the wall faltering. It'd be like Humpty Dumpty. The eggshell wouldn't crack, his back would. Well, probably a lot more than his back, technically.

"Well, Leon, I know you aren't going to sit your bum down and rest. I'm very tempted to force meds down your throat so you take care of yourself.” Your eyebrows were furrowed, pointing towards the living room. Did you need to be here? Explaining to the poor bastard to just relax? If Chris could come home more often than Leon, he was doing something wrong.

What did you say?

It caught Leon's attention, his hand twitching as he leaned up against the wall. There goes his pinky and there goes his thumb. Leaning down despite the rising pain inside my back. Exploding like pop rocks. A warzone at his lower back.

“Force meds down my throat?" The word rolled off his tongue. Followed by frustration, and that you even had the gall to say that. A bad taste settled in as words died in his throat. Being held back by his rationality. No one wanted the pretty guy to be an ass. He doesn't want to be, but what people say the least… exotic. No, exotic was a nice term to him. Peculiar, very-fuckin'-peculiar.

“Fine… I'll rest. If I hear a damsel or damoiseau in distress, busting my sticked-up ass for them.”

His white flag was accepted as he gave a kiss to your forehead. Dry crusty lips that needed that lip balm he loved. First, it was collecting guns. Then a record from the 1950s exploded into what was the wall of wonder. Wondering what deranged person decided to put records on the wall. Wish he didn't try to keep up with the times. Seeing Pinterest girls with records on their walls. Restaurants in New Orleans—a city of jazz and comfort food—follow the same deal. Now it's lip balm, lips soft and sweet. Something he adored by giving kisses. Sweet strawberry, benevolent blueberry, wonderful watermelon. Seriously, he needed to stop naming lip balms… His lips were already sweet enough without them.

With the parting of lips to a forehead, he bid adieu. Pushing himself back into the living room with the TV a bit too loud for your liking. He's already losing some his hearing, poor guy. Made you smile at him being logical, returning to check on things in the bathroom.

Why were you buying yourself time till dinner? It was a good time to ponder what'd you make. What was near itGive? Was he near his date? What, why'd that come into your head?

To be frank, it was only a day since Leon came home. One day since he got to rest. How long could he keep this up? Were you a good lover for doubting him? Doubting someone you trust felt wrong. It was wrong, wasn't it? Watching a man come home more broken than before. The cracking of the perfect man in some ways. Leon always screamed the guy with the suburban house and wonderful wife.

Cracks weren't good for what he was. Every day, he seemed to grow another falling apart. Leon couldn't have known. He didn't genuinely know anything aside from killing. Didn't know what normal life in some ways felt like. Was his nine-to-five killing? It was like the records he collected. They're dated, like him. Spinning again with a needle to them. Instead, there was a bullet threatening to put a hole through his head.

“Why do I wonder about this theory…” Leon muttered into the air. Fading into the sounds of the TV. Letting out a heavy sigh as he let himself stare into the TV. Drowning out his thoughts.

He just couldn't, though.

Why would you shove drugs into his throat? Was he such an old man to you? 'Here you go, gramps, your medicine.’ Taken daily and gulped down with water.

The very thought of that sent him spiraling. Why was he always babied? He's not an idiot just because he has a perfect face. What was the count of proving people with his skill? Four? Three? Fuck, he lost count. His own lover? Made him pissed off at himself if he couldn't at least prove to you he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. In his mentation, he slammed his fist on the table. Thoughts like these made him resent his parents for good genetics; he didn't want good genetics, he wanted to be treated decently.

The sound echoed through the apartment, causing you to jump. Almost dropping whatever was in your hand. Shoving it onto the sink as you feared the worst.

What if he fell?

“...Leon?" Your voice was soft, as if scared. Looked around the corner to just see a closed fist on the wood. Observing it raise to reveal a crack in the wood.

"LEON!?”

His neck snapped at the sound of your voice. Watching the frenzied grabbing of a coffee table. Looking at it like it was a baby. People and their grandparents' furniture… Ironic, giving his alcoholism still. The baby he couldn't give up.

“W-why did you do that!?"

A sharp slap against Leon's cheek from you sent him overboard. On instinct twisting your arm. Pain sprouting through it, Indian burns hurt. Hated when kids at school did it too. All for laughs when someone's in pain.

You yanked your arm out of his grasp. Rubbing the irritated skin as you spat incensed words.

“You know how important that table is to me! How am I supposed to show my parents it's cracked? Are you dumb!? Did being shot in the back make you stupid? Or did it miss to hit your brain!?”

Words gushed out without thought. Leon is staring at you like a hurt puppy. You wanted his head blown off? Why would you say that over a table?

“You wanted me to die?" He asked calmly, gripping the couch arm as he sat up. Swinging his legs over the side. “Or did it miss to hit your brain?"

“N-no!? I know I said it but, of course not! I-I just… I don't know!?”

Hands were thrown as you went into a frenzy. Tears wanted to fall out of your eyes as you freaked out over a table. He didn't know the importance of a table because he didn't have his parents.

Those words you said… What the fuck?

“Look, I may not be the most amazing person ever, but wanting me to be shot in the head is where the line is, ok? Why don't you cool off? There's the gas station, and the—”

"Why don't you fucking cool off the gun!? When are you going to stop your little job!?”

You were switching tactics. Want to draw him out so you feel better. Learning that during training wasn't fun, only in his early twenties. “You know what? If you want to play this game, I'll play it too.” He sighed, rubbing his face. How many times has he now? Did it at work with training rookies, with Hunnigan, friends when he rarely went out, and you, too.

“You're wishing I was dead over a table, what's the logic? Look, I know it's important but dead? Dead? I thought you were better than wanting someone dead! Besides, it's only a crack, not a smashed leg." His thumb rubbed over the crack from earlier. A gentle apology to an inanimate object.

Logic against emotions never mixed well. Always end up with one storming out—that one is you. First, it was Leon who waved his white flag a year ago, now it was your turn. Hands raised as you responded to his reason,

“Fine, fine, I'll admit maybe it sometimes. That still doesn't help the fact you cracked the table. The fact we went and got it from my parent's place?” Your hands moved on their own, motioning between the two of you to change your point. You two, a duo, couple, buddies, lovers, WE.

“Who slams their hand on a table in the first place? How is your hand even that strong to do that? Are you doing drugs?”

Drugs? Drugs? Accusatory. Did your eyes fail you? He knew you barely left the house nowadays. He recently found a study on his phone that said eyeballs needed sunlight to grow, and you lacked it. Lacked the past sunshine he knew, bright and sweet. Why'd all relationships end like this? Turning red from anger, exploding like dwarf stars as a relationship's lifetime. Exploding…

You excused yourself, going into the kitchen to prepare dinner anyway. Waving your hands as you excused. Fussy little thing you were. Leon watched you, face full of concern over your emotions and what was said earlier. He knew you didn't mean it, but if you said it, meant you thought it. If you thought it, it meant you doubted. If you doubted then he… He didn't know.

Something felt off during dinner, it could've been Leon going suddenly quiet or the thoughts in your head. The scrapes of metal against porcelain filling thick silence. Thick like mustard gas that choked Leon of his voice and made his tears fall.

“I'll take care of cleaning up, you go get ready for bed. You'll probably shower anyway." You muttered, taking your leave from the table. Collecting plates as you went, lingering on Leon as he paused. Frozen like those Greek statues—perfect even in mental agony.

Still, he didn't want to speak, words not wanting to come out. He didn't need his voice to convey his pain from earlier, the regret he had. Your answer was received through his subconscious responses and body language.

Stealing his plate away from him to bring it back to its home. You started on the obvious: cleaning up after eating. Using the same sponge you had for months alongside dish soap. Didn't understand the ads about how certain dish soaps were unique—it’s just soap.

Soap that cleaned, soap that was washed away. Just like your thoughts circling down that very drain. The fight from hours ago was still reasonably in your mind. Fuzzy as you dried your, hands off. Moving to retreat to your safe space of sorts.

Bedrooms did wonders in many ways. Offered comfort, love, passion, and the chance of reconciliation. You chose right with the sheets, cottony fabric. Was it basic? Perhaps. But it felt right for an ‘American’ home.

Tearing casual wear off for something more flowy. Nobody wanted to be hot when they slept—except the maniac Leon was. Your clothes drop to the floor, leaving you bare to the choices in their closet. Rummaging through it as the man of the day finally made it to the bedroom. Slipping on something comfortable for the night.

Now it was his turn to change his clothes, well, more like stripping from them.

Courteousness could've helped to mend what seemed like the bridge between the two.

“Do you need help?" A question you asked, reaching out towards the male to tug at his shirt. The silent hand between each other's minds. The sorry neither of you wanted to say but had to learn.

Leon thought for a moment, chuckling as he looked up at you, “Sure, if you wouldn't mind?” His smile was soft yet confused, wondering if this was your way of apologizing. Did you think it was an apology? He could've guessed to accept it.

With a drop of a head, you couldn't help but let a smile show through. Huffing at his confused answer. Letting your fingers already help with the stubborn fabric. Pulling it over his head to reveal a canvas full of dark purples and reds. Pretty together and alone, but this canvas was… Unique. Showing the pain one has endured will bring pride. With the main fellow of the show being the fresh gunshot wound on his side.

“Are you staring at my muscles or the bruises?" Leon asked, quirking an eyebrow. Moving to sit on his side of the bed. Working on his pants to reveal Calvin Klein boxers—dark like his soul. (That's what he always said, you ball of depressing sunshine.)

“The bruises that cover the muscles?" You queryed, moving to sit beside him. Hands clutching the edges of the bed as you glanced over at him. Observing his actions as he went on with his night.

“How long are they keeping you from work?" It was a good question to ask. He never said, Leon never wanted to speak about work in his home. It felt forbidden to him like he wasn't keeping you safe from a part of him.

“A week," he simply responded, finally shrugging his pants off. Moved his elbows on his knees as he met your gaze. “Wish it was less sometimes."

“Why less? Wouldn't you want more? It's a break, Leon. Do you not like coming home?"

If he had to mentally delve into his memories, he would've fallen off that building long ago. Floors high with a bioweapon charging for him. He couldn't leave Chris with Rebecca, couldn't leave you alone with guilt and regret. Pretty tears like yours made him feel regret.

Breaks in a sense were bad. He knew the fact he wouldn't escape the government or their work. The work pulled him away from his tear-stained pillow and favorite pair of sweats. Gave him holes in the body and sweet blots of color on his skin. Fuck him and his brain, wanting to save everyone.

“Complicated, real complicated.”

Well, complicated isn't exactly the most honest answer. It just was used as a general term with him. A cover-up.

"If it's about earlier… I was stupid, ok? Who wouldn't be? It's just a table, I know. Just that table means a lot to my family, despite how ridiculous that sounds.” Gesticulating as you talked, Leon couldn't help but notice the clear unease to admit you were wrong—oddly finding it adorable. Resting his chin in his palm as you spoke your truth.

“There's a lot I want to say to you, Leon. Mostly just… Why all this? This job, it's killing you, literally. Your back is worse than a grandma's, you're becoming a dopehead at this point, too. I get antidepressants, but then all these pain medications and others amongst them. I'm not trying to be the person who says drugs don't help problems, but too many hurts you. I'm happy that you're seemingly happy with them, I am.”

Words were bubbling up as you poured emotions out. A waterfall that never ceased and honestly could've made you gag. Those clowns that pull fabrics from their mouths, how? Each fabric you pulled made you want to cry from the emotions. The guilt, pain, resentment, love, all in each pull.

Each fabric you pulled from your mouth to Leon felt like a prodding. Slowly turning into a stab that leaked oil. Catching aflame with certain words and making him recall painful memories. He wasn't a dopehead, he didn't want to be. No one wanted to stare at the six bottles of pills he tried to take daily.

"I want you to take care of yourself, to just take a fucking break.”

Breaks… How many vacation days did he have? Time paid off? Er, he'd have to check. Tapping his finger on his cheek as he tried to recall.

“Could try, but it'll cost you a little somethin'."

Leon leaned close, kissing your temple before resting his head on yours. Chuckling to himself as his hands reacted on their own. Interlacing with yours as he smiled to himself.

“Debt paid, guess I will take a break." This statement made you breathe a mental sigh of relief, even after countless talks of his well-being. “I do actually hear you, though.”

His voice took a serious turn, as thoughtful-sounding as he could be. Reflection on what he could improve on, which was being vocal.

“Soon, I promise. I think I may be getting towards the end of work. Losing the Kennedy spark and all I have is a title.” Leon recalled Helena, or Patrick. The title of being the savior of Ashley Graham. The other being one of the first and best of the D.S.O. "Got a tummy to show for protecting a shitty country as well.” He laughed at his own self-deprecation—the walking circus he was. “Had that talk with Chris during last year, actually. When you were at the bar with him, after you left?”

He glanced over at you with fond eyes, “I talked with him during that. Helped me a lot, you did too." The man paused, stiffly rubbing his neck. "Chris also… Said hi."

Classic Chris, felt like a family friend now. Alongside Leon's unique bunch of friends that he called colleagues, but you knew better. Every aging man needed their little circle of buddies. Made you giggle at Leon's annoyed expression.

“Chris and his hellos… Loves popping his head in when you're home. Do you two even still talk?”

"Rarely,” Leon replied. "He likes to go out for drinks sometimes, quite nice. Sometimes he's one the only guy who gets me.” He gave a forced smile. Earning a gentle punch in the arm. One he brushed off with a push.

“At least you have fun with him, he's a clown once you get past the sternness."

This felt odd. Welcoming. Just a simple conversation with your lover. Backs falling against the bed and limbs tangling themselves as you spoke about life. Two little squids comforted in the presence of their mate. Losing yourselves in a everyday conversation. Pretending that earlier had never happened.

As the two became comfortable, so did your words. Reaching out to stroke his cheek. Over the faint line on it from years ago he said. Doubt he'd ever tell you it was from a old mentor. Thumb slowly moving down to his lips, a kiss being put on the pad.

“I'm still sorry for earlier, ok?" You whispered. Guilt had set in earlier at your emotional outburst. Telling him to die but you meant it in a caring way. Putting a hurt animal to rest with a bullet. If it was him, you'd give him that mercy. Let him finally rest as blood oozed from his corpse.

“You’re getting too old for this job. It's too physically straining on you. Drugs won't save you everytime and the hospital isn't either. How many names and faces do you know from there, huh?”

"Probably around fifteen, maybe twenty. Same doctor but different nurses.”

"See?” Your argument was valid in your mind. If he could remember faces, he'd visited it too much. It hurt you as much as it hurt him to dislocate a shoulder or get a bullet in the back.

"I love you Leon Kennedy, I really do.” A whisper you meant, feeling solemn. Leaning over to capture his lips against yours. Fondness and desire in one simple action. Feeling his hand curling up on the back of your scalp. Leon's eyes fluttering shut as he allowed it.

Your lips left his, breathless as you stared down at him. Watching him smile and the slight crinkle on the corner of his eyes.

“Love you more.”

"More, huh?” You jested, pressing your noses together with a giggle. Gently kissing him again as your hips straddled him. Keeping him pinned at the waist down. Hands moving to the hem of his shirt to pull it off.

“Can I…?”

“Can you…” Leon trailed off, looking at you expectantly. Before letting himself take off his shirt. Revealing little wisps of chest hair and a gunshot wound on his shoulder that's faded from time. Now just a light patch of skin with a ring in the center. It's younger cousin on his side, bright red and certainly angry.

With such gentle touches, Leon smiled—such care and caution. Made him aroused at the love. Made the back of his mind also angry he was getting aroused at something so simple. Trying to make him say something or pry you off with the excuse of pain, but no.

Your eyes wandered the pretty little canvas of bruises and scars his chest was. Even with the new gunshot wound. At least it was beginning to heal. You'd be gagging if you saw it before he left the hospital. Bleeding and the inside of human muscle and flesh.

“I don't know what to say right now," you mumbled, giggling at his stare at the awkward silence pervading the room.

The awkward silence felt right, comforting as you stare at each other. Payback for whenever Leon watched you.

“A little friend does." He whispered, watching your face burn at what he meant from friend. His hands grasped your hips, pulling your pelvis in to rub against his bulge. Situating it perfectly to where he could grind against your pussy. Seeing him so entranced watching his bulge rub against your underwear. Breath caught in his throat as he loved it.

“Gentle, Leon,” you remind, shifting your leg to not brush against his wound. A little uncomfortable with the way your muscles felt but if it made him not hiss in pain, worth it. “You don't like thinking about these things, huh?"

“You don't get to think about many things in my line of work. I only think about getting ready to be back in your arms—where I belong."

Sweetheart he was with those words, made you all giddy and embarrassed. Waving your hand like those shit Lifetime movies towards the Jock with a pea-sized brain. All this grinding and loving talk made you mush. Should’ve been a housewife at this point if you fell for such suave.

“You jest too much,” you scoff, rolling your shoulders back as you prepared for a smooth ride. Grinding sexes against each other while seducing the other with half-lidded yearning eyes. Running your hands up his chest to his throat. Wrapping your hands around the muscle to give a gentle squeeze, earning a soft moan.

“Babygirl, you know what a little squeeze does to a guy like me.” Leon purred, his words becoming husky. Rubbing his hands up and down your thighs and hips. Resting his head back on his pillow. “Pull those panties aside, gotta see my babygirl’s little pussy.”

Giggles erupted from your lips as you shuffled back a little. Instead of embarrassment, arousal was coursing through you. Simple acts could set someone aflame so fast. Dirty talk was one of them if paired with the right voice and man.

Instead of pulling it aside, you pulled them off. Albeit a bit awkwardly due to your pose, but still could be done. Dangling it in front of his face for the alluring factor before throwing them at the wall.

With your underwear out of the way, Leon got a good show of your cunt. Looking at the slick that made him groan involuntarily. Imagining the scene that would play out alongside you. Being lost in his world made his body react for him, making him grind into the warmth you brought. Rocking you back and forth against him.

“There she is! Good girl, baby, just like that.” He rasped, glancing up at you. Noticing you were entranced as well, the way he handled himself.

Leon chuckled, reaching out with his free hand to grab your chin. Snapping you out of the trance as you meet his gaze. So mesmerized by a simple movement. “Eyes on me, Miele. You're doing so good for me.”

His hand left your chin to return back to it's resting place; your hip. Guiding you to grind against his bulge.

“You're unfair if I have to be bare and you get to keep your boxers on." You huffed, impatiently yanking his boxers down. Watching it hit his abdomen with a small slap against his skin. Leaking precum onto the skin, made you let a appreciative hum. “Better, I don't wanna be lonely." You chuckled, mimicking an earlier Kennedy wink.

Why were you two chuckling or laughing so much? You felt like the two of you were having your virginities taken. The awkward sex, shuffling of sheets, and being embarrassed. To be honest, it had been a while considering Leon left home so often. Leaving you without any genuine love-making.

“How about you lie on me? It'll be easier, promise.” Leon motioned with his hands towards his chest. Free and open like the two of you. Sweet smile on his face that revealed those dimples you loved.

Taking the offer, you moved to lay on him. Ear pressed to his chest as was his cock against your opening. Your arms wrapped around his chest as you sunk down. Letting out a soft moan at the insertion.

He rubbed your back, comforting you as you grew accustomed to him again. Murmuring soft words of praise,

“Good girl, just like that.”

His fingers went up and down your back. Languidly thrusting his cock up into you. “Missed this, missed you," he moans, bucking his hips up into you on accident. Squeezing him like a vice as his cock head pressed up into that sweet spot. “Missed that face you make when taking my fat cock."

“Missed you too," your hands go to stroke his chest. Propping your head up on his chest with your chin. Face in a faux pout as you blink slowly. Letting out a small gasp every few thrusts. “We haven't done this in a while, Leon."

“Yeah, we really haven't." Leon sighed, letting his head rest back against his pillow. “Look, I'm still sorry for not being here for you."

He looked back at you, eyes somber as he added more, “It's hard. I know you want to know but I can't tell you. I'm afraid of what'll happen if I tell you. The government is terrifying powerful. I don't want you to die because of me."

It was obvious the government was terrifying, seeing how it reacted to certain things. Police brutality, shitty presidents, probably running some bioweapon deal underneath it. Power hungry just like everyone else. Those who denied being power-hungry were always the ones who were most. They just knew when to not say they were—they were smart.

“I could see that, Leon. I know what you do, ok? Bioweapons? Fight them? You and the government aren't exactly ‘low-key’. I'm sure a lot of the public knows.” You answered, feeling odd while talking about the government with Leon during sex. Such a turn-on.

Of course you'd know, even if he didn't want to go into details—mostly because it invalidates his contract and have himself and you be shot; he knew you weren't dumb. Worst part it was during something so vulnerable.

"Yeah, that's the bad part." He muttered, letting his hands grab your cheek. Giving it a small pinch as he gave a smile. “You look so pretty when you're taking my dick.”

“Turn off?" In truth, it only did a little. Knowing it would've gotten you a harsh thrust into your core. “I love you, but geez… You are something else with certain words.”

"Ah, losing my charm now, hm?” Leon thought to himself, pursing his lips as his eyes seemingly ran after some cleverly thought up phrase that made girls wet. "Ah, I think I got one.”

He drew closer, tipping his head forward so your noses touched. Knowing the smile on his face as he purred out sultry words, “Been thinking about this all day, especially when you made dinner. Wanted to take you over the dishwasher and fuck that tight little pussy into being mine.” His hands grabbed at your hips, moving you up and down on his cock faster. Fucking you with a purpose. The feeling made your eyes flutter, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

“Leon…” You moaned out, hearing the slap of skin behind you. "Y-you're ‘pposed to be gentle!"

A loud whine came from your throat, followed by a smack to your ass. Your shoulders jumping at the sudden harsh smack. Fingers digging into Leon's chest as he fucked you himself.

“Mmmm, I know, baby," he groaned, “But this pussy’s too perfect for me to not fuck.”

Leon laughed, eyes crinkled. All the while his dick kept curling up your walls to hit you again and again in that sweet, gooey spot. Making you leak down his cock to his balls.

Noticing his effect, he adjusted his hand to where he could rub lazy circles into your clit. Making your thigh quiver at too much stimulation. Hips tried to avoid his stubborn hand as he grew relentless in the stimulation.

You leaned forward to kiss him, before pushing his bangs back. Shutting yourself up so you wouldn't get a noise complaint from your next-door neighbors. They didn't need to hear more of Leon fucking you right. Felt amazing to finally be able to feel him again. His hands on your hips, dick curling up inside of you, lips against yours. Made a girl almost cry at the luck.

“Stop being so tight, gonna choke my dick out of oxygen and blood." Leon chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He ran his hands up and down your back, moving to your neck. Pressing your foreheads together so he could gaze at you.

“I love you…” Leon murmured, pulling you back in for another kiss you eagerly accepted. Hands curled up into his hair and pulled it. Pulling away from the kiss to pull his head back. Delivering kisses from his jaw to his throat. Nipping at the skin that made him moan. Making him roll his hips up into you quicker. How'd that angel a year ago become such a succubus in his arms?

"Love you too.” You responded, burying your head in his neck as you began to moan. Biting down on the skin that'll leave a bruise.

With such love came passion, each thrust carrying it. Each touch of Leon's fingers on your skin lighting it afire. The nails scratched the vulnerable flesh as he started huffing. Reaching its peak, as does every man that ages.

“I got you, don't worry." His hands tightened around you. Pulling you tight against his chest as he rushed to climax. Balls slapping against your pussy and hearing the vibrations of his voice in his throat. Rumbling with each thrust. Almost seemed pathetic with how he was acting.

“That's it baby, you're doing so good f'me. Taking me so well. Just let go, squeeze my cock. Wanna feel you gush around me.”

Oh, sweet fuck those words sent you over the edge. Drenching his cock with more slick. Whining at the overstimulation with his quick thrusts. Crying as he pulls you from his neck to give you a sloppy kiss. Muffling his last groan he released himself inside of you. Hips slowly came to a halt as he panted.

“That’s my girl" Leon whispered, giving one last sweet kiss before resting his head back against his pillow. Letting his arms fall from your body to rest beside him.

Taking it as a sign to get off of him, you scooted off. Almost pulling him out of you before he stopped you with his hand being lazily raised.

“Wanna stay in my pussy a little bit longer. Too lazy to pull out.”

You groaned, brows furrowed but relenting as you pulled him into his side into a spooning position. Moving to where your back pressed against his. Arm wrapped around your waist and stubble rubbing against your neck. Leon already rubbing himself into the crook of your neck. Resting his forehead in the crook with an appreciative hum.

“Such a good girl you were." Leon praised, kissing your shoulder. Giving both your shoulder and neck small ‘good job’ kisses. “Kinda hurting, though…” He mumbled, groaning as he pushed his weight into your back.

“I did say while getting my brains fucked out you're supposed to be gentle. La mia brava ragazza.” Your hands squeezed his forearms. Sighing as you came down from your high. Tired from the dick in you and dreading having to wake up with dried cum on your thighs.

“I’ll get out in a few minutes, need to shower anyway.” Leon chuckled warmly, finally catching his breath. His hands come to hold your chest, giving a small squeeze. Not sexual in any way, just something comforting he did.

“Count me in…”

“When I wanted to come shower with you, I didn’t say eat me the hell out, Leon.” You hissed, swatting him with a towel as you stumbled out of the shower. Second orgasm within the hour and you're shaking like a little lamb. Already watching Leon drying his hair off with a shake and towel. Glancing over at you with a cheeky smile. You paused, before shrugging, ok, maybe it was good. Too good with his stubble rubbing up against you. Sucking on your clit like a lollipop.

“You expect a man like me not to take this opportunity?” He asked incredulously, a hand on his chest as he raised an eyebrow towards you. Almost as if offended you didn’t know who he was despite being his lover. “You hurt me, amore mio.”

As expected, he couldn’t help but jest at you. Watching you shake your head and pinch the brow of your nose. Offering a temple kiss in kind of his attempt to make you smile. “I’ll stop for tonight, don’t worry.”

“You should.” To keep yourself from losing another brain cell at your smitten lover, you dried off. Leaving him to his own devices while you dried your hair and body.

Leon smiled, before noticing the pill bottle on the bathroom sink. Taking it as his medication for the week is another opportunity for conversation. “So, this is what they gave me?”

He held the bottle in his hands, giving it a small shake with an estimate of how many pills were in it. Before moving to read the label and daily amount. Reading the daily amount, he hummed, before noticing the sticky note.

“You’re going to bingo without me?” It shattered his heart as he said it out loud, glancing over at you. Watching your eyes widen at the word ‘bingo’. Bingo? What’d he know about bingo? He only knew where everyone went for bingo.

“Bingo? What about bingo?” You asked, confused as you looked up to see the pill bottle in his hand.

“Oh…”

Someone’s getting an angry phone call later.

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — @rigorwhoring, @xoxostarlet, @leqonsluv3r

If you wanna be apart of my taglist just send a DM or ask! I don't mind! Tomorrow I'll be dropping two bots! Then you will see me a week or so later! Love you guys! <3

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔

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unreliablesnake · 7 months

Text

“Do you think I’m old?”

You raised an eyebrow in question, your gaze slowly turning to John who was looking at himself in the wide mirror of the bathroom. You put down your toothbrush and toothpaste, then reached out to make him turn his head to you. “Honey, you’re 37. That’s not old,” you stated with a smile.

He let out a long sigh at this. “Yet everybody calls me an old man.”

“Probably because you’re a captain.”

“Then they should call me that. Or Price. Or John. Anything but that, really.”

With a short laugh you gave him a kiss, your fingers finding their way into his hair at the back of his head right away. For some reason he was unsure, as if he wanted to say something, to object, but you didn’t let him. How could he believe he was old? His face was so young under that stupid beard you had gotten used to, barely any wrinkles could be seen on his skin.

When you pulled away, you looked him in the eye and said, “Remember the first time we met?” His lips curled into a smile at the memory. “You had me at ‘hello,’ I’m drowning in the blue of your eyes,” you began to sing before starting to laugh at yourself. “But seriously, I will never get bored of your eyes.”

“I can still be old,” he pointed out.

With a sigh you shook your head at him. “Don’t be stupid. You’re not old. Don’t dwell on it, okay?”

John kissed your forehead then wrapped his arm around you to pull you against his chest. “All right, all right, I believe you. But it sure hurts my ego that they call me an old man,” he said with a laugh.

#call of duty #modern warfare #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #john price #mw2 #takes place during mw2 #mw3 didn’t happen #nope

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shiny-kaibernyte · 5 months

Note

I immediately gave you a follow since you wrote Drayton content. Toothpaste man!!!

Anyways, I love drama. I like the idea of Drayton pining after the reader while also making Kieran jealous 😭😭 could you write something like that??

Please take care of yourself btw! You write wonderful content!

We love our toothpaste man! And I'm so glad you like my stuff. This is so sweet of you and such an amazing request as well I would love to do this for you! I really do hope you like this 💜💜

Side note: I got a shiny Popplio when I read your request so I named it Cloudy as a little nod to you whenever I play.

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

A rivalry between the Dragon Elite four members and the Champion of the BB League turns into much more than just a race for Pokémon battles. When Drayton just wants to take you out on a date, Kieran's jealousy comes out to play, only pushing Drayton's goal to win your heart more.

SPOILER WARNING AHEAD (Indigo Disk Main Story and a little bit of The Teal Mask)

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A Dragon’s Heart | Drayton x Reader

“Awe, come on~ just one date!” Drayton innocently pleaded, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes staring down at you whilst you scribbled down notes from your previous shiny hunt.

You shook your head with a cheeky smile on your face, as you continued to scribble, “And my response will remain the same Drayton, a cafeteria chat is not a date! Maybe I'll say yes when you think of something creative, hm?”

“I’m creative! The cafeteria is just easy, it's not too noisy since everyone eats out in the terrarium! Plus free food!” He joked, attempting to make it sound appealing, even though he knows it's not good. Unfortunately, his brain can’t think of anything good enough, at least for him. Everything he’s thought of, he doesn’t think is good enough for you. And he’s thought of a lot. “I can help you out with your shiny notes, you know~ maybe even join you on a hunt!”

“Drayton, you don’t know the first thing about shiny hunting, let alone actually joining me on one.” You sighed jokingly, looking up at him as you closed your notebook, “If I remember correctly, didn’t you fail a shiny Pokémon?”

His face turned slightly red, embarrassment washing over him for a moment as he grumbled to himself, “Hey I thought the Axew was sick… It’s not my fault I didn't know the Axew was going to run from me!”

“You threw a berry at its head!” You exclaimed, lightly chuckling when you saw his embarrassed face. “And you call yourself the Dragon expert”

His embarrassment turned into laughter as he thought about how stupid that was, the pair of you laughing together with bright smiles on your faces.

Your laughter didn’t go unnoticed however, from across the room, Kieran's eyes glared into Drayton. The sound of you laughing along with him only fuels Kieran's desire to be the best. But the jealousy was too strong for him to focus with the two of you laughing. “If you two are finished chirping like Starly’s over there, Drayton, you have a battle in five minutes. I suggest you get going.”

“Relax Kieran, I got plenty of time bud! Besides, it's unlikely they will be on time, it takes a while to prepare for a battle against one of us. So my opponent can take as long as he needs to!” Drayton argued with a hint of playfulness in his voice as Kieran gritted his teeth. A small smile crept on your face when you heard Drayton’s response, that was something you always admired about him. His patients was contagious, never rushing anyone into anything, always trying to make someone smile. Sure he has his moments of cockiness but that just adds to his character, every Dragon has a bite after all.

“Spoken like a true Elite, Drayton!” You chimed, standing up from the sofa. Drayton’s face turned a light pink, his heart lightly thumping. Surprised at himself that something so simple made him blush. His dragon heart only making more room for you.

Kieran's heart pounded in rage at your words, annoyed over the fact you were saying those words to Colgate and not him. Eventually, he puts on his no fudges given face and turns towards you both fully. “If you want to remain as the top Elite four members, Drayton, I'd get to your battle. I still have the power to remove you from this club.”

“Alright Alright! I’m going!” Drayton sighs, raising his hands in defeat. Kieran shook his head displeased as Drayton stretched his arms up, a sigh leaving his mouth before turning back to you. “So about that date… How about instead, as a warm-up, you come watch my battle as my special guest? That way, it’s not our official first date and I still get to spend time with you.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to see where he’s going with this and what extra little plan he has going on inside that head of his. Until he raises a hand up for you to take, a genuine smile on his face as he patiently waits for your decision. With a bright smile, you take his hand, “I think that is a fair deal.”

“Have fun moping, Kieran!” Drayton yells as he gently pulls you along with him towards the door. Kieran had steam coming off his body as he watched the pair of you leave, and not just from Drayton’s response. A smirk appeared on Drayton’s face when he saw the jealousy in Kieran’s eyes.

Soon his focus returned to the matter at hand, and he smiled at you, pushing and holding the door open for you as he guided you through it, “After you sweetheart~”

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rowretro · 1 month

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Yandere!demon! heeseung x human! Reader( Please?)

TOOTHPASTE MOJITO

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned, somewhat sexual(?), alcohol consumption

❁synopsis: Heeseung, a demon of many demons that roams earth, bored. His eyes then land on y/n. The girl who was disgusted by her raspberry mojito, and proceeded to order more mojitos. That's when Y/n saw hell....

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

Heeseung smirked, his hands stained with blood, as he stared at the limp body before him. Another day another slay, demon edition. He literally slays them. Could you blame him? I mean what did the drunkard expect? trying to steal his wallet. He didn't stand a chance. Heeseung groaned as he went to his mansion, maids slipping off his coat and placing his shoes aside, as he walked in. The man's rich, anything he wants he gets, money, shoes, cars anything.

But he was missing one thing... a wife. Sure he'd sleep with some girls now and then when he's bored, but none of that satisfies his loving for love. True love, the kind of love one'd find in any movie, a shoulder to lie on, a person to turn to and feel comfortable. The man checked himself out in the mirror, a branded leather jacket worn over his black button down shirt, and trousers to match it. He slipped on a Rolex of the many he owned, followed by some jewellery.

The man walked into the party, fitting in as Jay threw an arm over him "Thought you'd never come, I assume you're here for the girls?" Jay asked as Heeseung snickerred "not this time- I got some time off of work so I decided to drop in... where's the bar?" He asked as Jay pointed it out. The man sat down at the stool, beside him, he could see the back of a girl, her dark hair somewhat covering her bare back, she was dressed is a shimmering, short black dress.

So far she seemed like a hottie to him. "Ack- disgusting... It tastes like grass-" she complained turning around to the bartender. Heeseung got a the full view of her face. Fuck was she beautiful. Her eye makeup really did suit her, purple glitter reflecting blue, lips so plump and kissable, her nose slightly big, but really added a stunning touch to her pretty face. "Can I get a mojito with Ice... make it really minty" she said as Heeseung frowned at her.

As the bartender walked off to prepare her drink, Heeseung turned to face her "Minty mojito?... that'd taste like toothpaste in alcohol- its already minty as is why ad more?" He questioned as she giggled "Toothpaste mojito.... not a mint lover huh?" she asked then she froze "Wow... Jay knows so many attractive men but damn." she added quite boldly. "He seems to know very pretty girls... none as pretty as you though, can't believe he gatekept you from me... Heeseung." He introduced himself. "Y/n.... " she said with a smile

If only she knew there and then that he's a goddamn demon. Literally. She thought she was just drunk, one second she was at the party, the next in a luxorious bedroom with a fine man. That morning she realized, the man did the impossible, he literally teleported her. She saw him really murder a man. She looked under the blanket. No sign of pain, hickeys or anything, she smelled nice, dressed in a man's jumper, presumably Heeseungs.

Oh how stupid she felt. Thinking it'd be easy to sneak out of a demon's home without being caught. Acting cool, walking out as the guards assumed she was just some slut he slept with. "Where do you think you're going sweetheart?" he asked, her back against the wall, as his body trapped her. "uh... home? I need to feed my bunny" she excused as he just laughed.

"Oh baby how drunk were you?... you ARE home... and I fed your bunny see? *he said with a smirk pointing at the little white rabbit that rested comfortably in a more spacious cage". It was too much to process. did she move in with him? did something happen? are they in a relationship? "yes, I guess, and Yes.." he answerred without missing a beat, red eyes staring into hers. "Did I say that out loud?..." she asked as he smirked.

"As you can see darling, I'm a demon, I know everything you think about. When I first laid my eyes on you... thought I'd just let you stay in my bed one night.... then you talked to me and fuck." He groaned, holding her heart at his chest "feel that?! Im in fucking love with you baby, I fucking wanted you... no I fucking needed you. so here you are." He said with a smirk "You're crazy. Im not into you Heeseung. You can't just kidnap me, and my bunny and say im you're in love with me. Im leaving." She claimed confidentally

"That's where you're wrong. You're mine, you're not going anywhere and you won't need to, everything you need is in this mansion. If I want something sweetie.. I get it. How about you think twice before your decision, sure you wouldn't want to anger a demon... I KNOW you're smarter than that." He simply said. He's right. Only an idiot would do such a thing, she really had no choice... She was in hell and there's no going back....

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(so sorry to all my readers, Ill try work on the series's too, yes my blog is wet now- its no longer a dry desert)

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pixelated-pogues · 1 year

Text

Shaved Confessions (j.m)

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: An innocent moment of watching JJ shave turns into a little more.

Warnings: Fluff, slight suggestive content

Word Count: 1.6k

Gif creds: @cherryusa

“JJ,” I call, entering the Chateau without knocking first. John B always gave me shit for drumming my knuckles against the front door before entering his house, so I’ve finally broken the habit.

“You’re at my house more than you’re at your own, Y/n, it’s really not necessary to knock. Just come on in and let your presence be known,” he’d chuckled one day after answering the door to find me shyly twiddling my thumbs.

“In here,” he responds from the bathroom, leading me towards his voice. I find him hunched over the sink with his toothbrush hanging half out of his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed as he runs his fingers over the stubble on his chin. His hair is damp and disheveled, the towel wrapped haphazardly around his neck indicating that he’d just gotten out of the shower. “You like what you see?” My eyes lock onto his boyish grin for a split second before rolling back into my head.

“Just surprised by the fact that you actually shower. I always assumed you thought a dip in the ocean did the trick,” I quip back, shrieking when his towel whips against my bare thigh in retaliation.

“Oh shut up,” he smiles, throwing the towel back over his shoulders before spitting the toothpaste into the sink so he can rinse his mouth out. “That accusation holds no weight when you’re always telling me that I smell good.”

“Touché,” I hum, pushing past him to sit on the toilet. He gives me the side eye, ensuring that I catch the wink he sends my way before rummaging through the drawers to find his shaving cream. “Damn, you got a hot date tonight that I’m crashing by being here?”

“Bold of you to assume that you’re crashing my date instead of being it,” his eyebrows raise for a brief moment before he returns his focus to smearing shaving cream across his jawline. A sarcastic laugh falls from my lips, but the awkward cough that follows kills it’s credibility. JJ’s lips twitch knowingly, but he doesn’t say anything, instead he drags his razor across the left side of his jaw, ridding it of the stubble.

“That seems like a satisfying process,” I hum after roughly thirty seconds of comfortable silence.

“It is,” he agrees, turning the faucet on to clean cream off the razor. He moves to continue shaving before his movements pause. JJ straightens up, angling himself towards me, “You want to try it?” The question takes me off guard, my cheeks burning under his curious gaze. I opt for nodding rather than trusting my voice, standing from my position on the toilet to meet him at the sink.

“Sure,” I shrug, taking the razor from his hand. “The angle’s going to be a little awkward though.” JJ nods in agreement before hooking his hands around my waist to hoist me onto the counter in front of him. “You’ve gotta give a girl a heads up before man handling her, J,” I giggle, steadying myself with his shoulders.

“Noted, ma’am,” he comments, his own laugh mixing with mine before he situates himself between my legs. “Better, though?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, gesturing for him to look to one side so that I can focus on the task at hand. I gently hook one hand behind his neck to keep my grip steady, unintentionally sucking in a breath before carefully continuing the job. We stand in silence for awhile, JJ’s fingers mindlessly drawing shapes on my legs attempt to steal my focus but I reel my thoughts in rather than allowing them to make something out of such a small gesture.

“You look really cute when you’re focused like this,” JJ points out, just before I’m finished with the last section of his face. My eyebrows crinkle together at his words, a slight scoff escaping my throat while I rinse the razor one last time.

“I do not,” I huff, steadying my free hand against his neck again, my thumb resting right again his jaw. His adam’s apple slowly bobs at the touch, his tongue swiping across his lips before they curve into another smile.

“Yes you do,” he whispers, just as I finish up. I roll my eyes at him, moving to remove my hand from his neck but he halts my movements with his own, catch my hand with his to keep it in place against his skin. “In fact, you always look really cute. God, how’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“JJ, what the hell are you saying,” I murmur, unable to fight the blush erupting across my cheeks. He’s always unapologetically flirted with me but it’s always been in a joking manner. The tone in his voice makes me believe that this time is different. “You sound love sick.” My voice wavers at my own words, disbelief evident as they rolled off my tongue. His eyes search mine for a moment, clearly an act of contemplating if he wanted to say what he was thinking while I remain frozen in place.

“Maybe I am,” he admits so easily, no hint of laughter evident in his words. I never thought he could be so focused on me before, his eyes seemingly swimming over every aspect of my face as an attempt to gauge the effect his words have on me.

“Don’t play with me,” I sigh, discarding the dirty razor into the sink. My voice low and unsteady. I’ve always wondered and desired for his attention to be on me in this way, to solely have his undivided attention as more than just his best friend, but now that this reality is unraveling in front of me, I can’t help but feel as though he’s joking around and tooling with my emotions. “I don’t think this is funny.”

“I don’t either,” he murmurs, casually catching my loose strands of hair with his fingers so that he can hook them behind my ear. His hand reminds in that position, his palm gently resting against my cheek as his eyes focus solely on mine. “Who said anything about playing? I’m being dead serious.” Another sigh rolls off my tongue, but I can’t keep myself from leaning into his palm, my eyes closing at the effortlessly comfort that his touch brings. “God, you’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

Now my eyes are snapping open with his admission, my head lifting to lock with his gaze long enough to assure myself that he’s being genuine. “JJ,” I begin, but immediately close my mouth when he shushes me, clearly not finished.

“God,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb across my jaw. “I’ve been in love with you for so damn long that it physically hurt me to keep it to myself anymore. I know we’re best friends, but I’ve always felt like we’ve been more than that beneath the surface. I just didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong, but I couldn’t go another second without telling you the truth.” He pauses for a second, sucking in a sharp breath as he’s met with silence. “Please say something,” he breathes, both hands finding a home on either side of my face. My eyes flutter closed while I intentionally take a moment to cherish the feeling bubbling in my chest right now. “Tell me I’m not the only one that feels this way.”

“Kiss me,” I whisper, internally jolting as the words slip off my tongue before I can catch them.

“What?” he chokes out, his grip on my face tightening in the slightest so that I’ll look at him. My eyes flutter open to meet his gaze once again.

I lean forward in the slightest, just enough to where our noses nearly graze one another. “Kiss me,” I command gently, my heart skipping a beat when I catch his endearing expression just before he leans in, breaking the space between us to cement the truth that both of our heart have been living in denial about for ages. That we’re two best friends who were always destined to fall in love.

I gasp the moment our lips collide, my hands instinctively pulling him flush against my body while he takes the opportunity to fight for dominance, winning almost instantly. My fingers tangle themselves in his hair as he trails his lips down to my neck, the unexpected contact earning a breathy moan from me. He reattaches his lips to mine immediately following the noise, quickly hooking his arms under my thighs to hoist me into his embrace again, not breaking contact as he effortlessly carrie’s me to his bedroom and closes the door, pinning my body against it as his fingers swiftly twist the lock. He presses me into the faux wood of the door, slightly grinding his hips into mine with a husky groan.

“JJ,” I murmur breathlessly as he makes his way back down to my neck, his kisses growing more desperate with every passing second. “Hey,” I stop him, hooking a finger under his chin to force his attention onto me. “I’m all yours if you mean everything you said. I’ll let you prove it to me unless you’re gonna go changing your mind tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t take any of this back if my life depended on it,” he mumbles, before turning around and dropping me onto the soft covers of his bed. “Count this as proof, you’re tied to me forever.”

I blink up at him, blindly shuffling backward toward the headboard with a daring smile dancing on my lips. “Oh, I’m tied to you forever?” I pause, deepening the intense stare I’ve locked onto him while nibbling at my lip. Sparing him a slow, unquestionably seductive, once over before meeting his eyes again, I muster a taunting smile. “Why don’t you prove it?”

The expression on his face twists into something more feral, an exasperated groan bubbling from his chest as he launches himself on top of me, earning a surprised squeal in response.

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A/n: I’m currently dusting off some of my drafts in celebration of season fours oncoming release, when reading this one, I simply had to finish and share it with anyone willing to give it a read.

Tag list: @thelocalpogue @maaybanks @drewstarkey @ssjiara @bluebirdsbluebells @spilledtee @maebanks @poguemackin @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @outerbongs @ilovejjmaybank @marvel-writer @astrydis @hijohnd @pogueslandia @scenesofobx

#outer banks #outer banks season four #outer banks fics #outer banks blurbs #outer banks imagines #obx #obx fics #obx blurbs #obx imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #maybank x reader #maybank #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fics #jj maybank blurbs #jj maybank imagines

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daycourtofficial · 2 months

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - part 11

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: hmmmmmmmm things are getting… interesting… Wonder what's going to happen next..... also shout out to @aboggoblin, @doriansgf and @prythianpages for help with the plot ily 🫶

(Masterlist)

After letting his hands slip through your own, the muscles of his palm freshly massaged, his hands trail up your hips, making their way up to your breasts.

“Is this okay?” Azriel’s voice whispers in your ear.

“Gods, yes,” you whisper back, your hands tracing up his thighs. He groans at the touch, the way your fingers delicately move up closer to his hips.

His fingers begin cupping your breasts, your skin hot from his touch. You moan into his ear, and he turns his head to capture your lips in a kiss. His lips are everything, as they move from your mouth down your neck. His hands move towards your pants, unzipping your jeans and helping you shimmy out of them.

His fingers begin moving down stomach, gently hooking into the waistband of your panties before-

You wake up with a jolt, feeling as if his hands are still in your hair. You take a deep breath, reaching for your pillow to hide under to calm yourself down, but when you reach your hand up, it meets skin.

Your eyes widen as your head shoots up to find Azriel underneath your hand, a soft groan coming from his lips as he wakes. The sound mimics the ones he made in your dream, shooting straight to your core.

Oh gods, you think. You fell asleep out here after finding him in the middle of the night.

Oh gods. You fell asleep with him on your couch and had a dirty dream about him. If you had any luck at all, you kept quiet in your sleep and the man underneath you had no idea of the dream you just had about him.

His eyes open ever so slightly, and you swear his hand squeezes your back a bit tighter as he says, "good morning." You melt at his touch, burying your face further into his neck.

“G’morning,” you mumble into the shirt as he chuckles. You reach your hand out, searching for your phone to see how long you have until your alarm goes off.

Your arm pads around the table, and you find his phone on the coffee table, the screen lighting up to display the time.

No fucking way.

“8:40?” You screech, scrambling to sit up off of Azriel, using his chest to push yourself up. Your limbs get dragged back down by the weight of the large blanket and long legs tangled with yours. “My class starts in twenty minutes!”

Azriel can’t contain the chuckle he lets out as you scramble, trying to claw your way out of this ever sinking couch.

You’re able to get out of the cocoon of blankets surrounding you two, one foot meeting the carpet. You start swinging the other leg, and on unsure footing, you’re on the carpet.

Until you aren’t. Falling forward, you brace your hands in front of you to catch yourself.

Fortunately, you catch yourself on Azriel's thighs, him having sat up trying to help you. Unfortunately, your face is now approximately four inches from his crotch.

Your cheeks are burning as you start to stutter, trying to stand back up. You can't even look at Azriel as you grip his thighs, using them to hoist yourself back up.

“I- um- class-,” you say, pointing a thumb at your door as your feet connect to solid ground. You look at him, getting lost in his eyes for a few moments before remembering that you are late.

"Um, class. I have. Today."

You scramble into your room, not letting yourself think about how outrageously idiotic you sounded, grabbing a pair of pants and quickly brushing your teeth as you jump into your pants. You spit out the toothpaste, grabbing a bra and then your shirt before swiping deodorant on.

Once you’re dressed you open your door back up to find Azriel still on the couch, and before you can register what’s happening, you’re bending over the couch, placing a kiss on his forehead before grabbing your bag and ducking out the door.

You would have been much better off staying in your apartment with Azriel because you have no idea what your professor is talking about today, only able to tune in to every hundredth word or so. Your thoughts keep going back to how it felt to wake up in his arms and how badly you wanted to nuzzle back into him, and how fucked up it was to dream about his hands right after he opened up to you about them.

And how badly you may have messed everything up by falling on him and trying to fix it with a forehead kiss.

Class eventually ends and you make it back to your apartment and groan as you push open the door, knowing that Azriel will not be on your couch, but hoping you’d see his messy curls anyway. You can’t hide the disappointment as you find Cassian in your living room, sheepishly at your door.

“Can you tweeze my eyebrows?”

You walk in, placing down your bag, “hello to you too, Cass. I had a great day, thanks for asking.”

He rolls his eyes at you, clacking the tweezers in your face, “I’m seeing Mor later tonight and she hates when my eyebrows are unruly.”

“Why don’t you ask her to do them?” You ask, moving to sit on the couch, patting the spot next to you.

Cassian rounds the couch, holding the tweezers out to you as he sits, “because she says it’s better if I’m already pretty for her and she doesn’t have to do anything.”

You laugh, taking the tweezers from him, “are you a baby about your eyebrows being done?”

“No,” he huffs, crossing his arms. You sit up on your legs, putting your hand on his face. You look at his eyebrows, taking a moment to figure out the shape of them and where you want to pluck from.

You place the tweezers around the first hair, and Cassian squeezes his eyes shut as you pull just hard enough for the hair to come out.

“Was that it?” Cassian asks, still not opening his eyes. “Are you done?”

“Yes, I have plucked off your entire eyebrow.”

“Maybe I can just draw them on every day,” he muses, as you grab another hair and pull.

“Says the man who wakes up ten minutes before he has to leave to go somewhere.”

The two of you sit in silence as you continue plucking his eyebrows, despite Cassian’s constant twitching, when the door opens and Mor’s blonde head pokes out from the other side.

“Hello darlings.”

You chuckle, both you and Cassian greeting her. She stops in her tracks at seeing you plucking Cassian’s eyebrows, a huff coming from her lips.

“Cassian, what do you think you’re doing?”

Cassian tenses beside you, putting a hand up to block her view of the tweezers, “nothing, dearest.”

She stalks towards you two, pointing at him, “did you really ask her to pluck your eyebrows?”

He shrugs, “your hands are so cruel, they hurt me.”

You laugh as Mor swats at him, “of course they’re going to hurt, you big baby.”

You nearly avoid stabbing Cassian in the eye as Mor sits on the other couch, away from your roommate, and says hi to you again.

“Hi Mor. You won’t believe what happened last night.”

“Try me,” Mor replies, a hint of challenge in her voice. Your eyes dart to Cassian, trying to gauge if you should discuss this in front of him. You turn back to Mor, whispering quickly, “I fell asleep on Azriel on the couch and I had a sex dream about him and then when I woke up I fell onto his cock.”

Mor is quiet for a second before saying, “so you slept with him, then you slept with him?”

“No, I just slept with him the once, I didn’t sleep with him.”

“Okay, so you had sex with him on your couch? What if Cassian had walked in on you two?”

“I would never be able to look at you again for defiling my brother in such a way,” Cassian says, shaking his head.

“Mor, no. We slept together,” you reply, ignoring Cassian completely.

“Yeah, you slept together.”

You sigh, trying to make this as clear as possible. “No, we fell asleep on the couch together, and I had a dirty dream about him and then when I woke up I slipped on the blanket and my face landed right next to his cock.”

“Was he hard?”

“Mor that is not the point.”

“What?” She shrugs. “If he wasn’t, that’d be worse.”

Cassian points to her, nodding his head in agreement. You pluck the next hair extra harshly, a soft ow coming from Cassian as he pushes your hand away.

“I’m going to go wash my face. Thanks for your help. You have delicate hands, unlike some people,” Cassian says, glaring at Mor. She gives him a shrug, but he still walks over to her, giving her a forehead kiss before walking off to his room, closing the door behind him.

Mor watches Cassian close his door, and once she can hear the water running, she turns to you and asks, “what are you doing tonight?”

You narrow your eyes, sitting up straighter, “why do you want to know?”

“Mor,” you press, voice more stern when she won’t respond.

“Let me set you-“ You cut Mor off before she can finish her sentence.

“Mor, please. The last date was awful - I need at least 10-15 business days to recuperate from it. He showed me his NFTs for pete’s sake.”

She sighs, “this one is different, trust me. It’s someone Cassian knows.”

You groan, hitting your head against the couch. You pick up your throw pillow, holding it against your chest like a shield. You think back to Az telling you to just say no. To stand up for yourself more.

“No, I’m not going.”

You felt proud standing up to Mor, but you could hear her frustration as she sighs, looking up at the ceiling as she muttered something.

“Cassian says this guy is crazy hot, really sweet, and that you’d really like him.”

Azriel’s face appears in your mind, as you squeeze the pillow. You can’t go out with someone else, not when it feels so right with Azriel.

Especially not when you spent your night cuddled up to him on your couch.

You sigh, “Mor, what about Az-“

She interrupts you, “it’ll be a great date, I promise. And if it sucks, I’ll never set you up again.”

Your ears perk up at that, “yeah?”

“And I suppose if it goes well, I won’t have to set you up again.”

You laugh, “okay, but only if you promise that if it sucks you will never, ever set me up again, and you’ll leave me a giant container of ice cream.”

“Deal.”

Seven o’clock at a restaurant downtown, she tells you. You'll explain to Azriel later that it was purely a chance to get Mor to stop setting you up. Surely he'd understand that.

Right?

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel #azriel fluff #azriel x y/n #acotar writing

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leahluvr · 9 months

Text

nightfall - alessia russo x reader

genre: drunk lessi, fluff

warnings: mentions of alcohol, suggestive

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a friday night was typically an eventful occassion after a long week of work and alessia’s training. you usually accompany and tag along with alessia and her friends from man united to a bar, almost always ending up in a club returning home during hellish hours. as you still had a report to complete, you told alessia earlier in the evening you would be skipping the night out, allowing her to spend the night out with mary and tooney.

seated quietly on the couch with a cup by your side, you typed away at your report. suddenly you heard an aggressive rattled at the door. it genuinely took minutes until alessia managed to crack the door open, stumbling through the hall on her way in. she kicked off her shoes and entered the living room, locking eyes with you. her already pink cheeks, turn into a darker shade upon seeing you in your pyjamas, comfortably sitting on the couch.

“ynnnn,” she sang before collapsing into your arms, fortunately, you had moved the laptop from your lap in time.

“hi my love,” you reply.

you closed your laptop shut, shifting your focus to your girlfriend.

“so, how was it?” you smiled softly, as she took she took your hand into hers. she played with your fingers, tracing the lines and crevices delicately.

“yeah, it was pretty good. we went to this fancy restaurant, but tooney got sick of the formality, so we just ended up drinking heaps and heading to the clubs instead,” alessia explained slowly with a slurred speech, looking a bit sheepish about the ‘club’ part. nonetheless, you hummed in understanding.

you moved your hand to playfully squish her cheek while giving her a stern look.

“you didn’t happen to share your lips with any other pretty girls, did you?” you inquired.

“no!” she explained loudly, making you flinch, “the only pretty girl i give kisses to is the one i’m looking at.”

you laugh as she leaned in, leaving an uncontrolled, slobbery kiss to your lips. instead of pulling away after the initial kiss, alessia kissed deeper and more passionately, taking you by surprise.

“lessi,” you say breathlessly, pulling the girl’s face away from yours, “you’re drunk. you smell sweaty and like alcohol, let’s get you cleaned up, hey?”

she pouted, but got up with your assistance to head to the bathroom. clinging to your clothes, she tugs you as you walk. you lift her by the waist and seated her down on the vanity.

“you look good underneath me,” she smirked. rolling your eyes at her comment, you ignore her, pulling the zip down from the side of her dress.

“oi! you gotta ask a girls name before getting her naked!” she waffled on jokingly.

“up,” you instructed, once again ignoring her.

you pulled the dress down until it pooled at the tiled floor. grabbing an old hoodie, you slipped it over her head, she whined as the collar was tight when passing her head.

she patiently sat on the counter, watching as you applied make up remover to a cotton pad.

“baby, close your eyes for me,” you whisper.

she flinched from the cold liquid against her face, but stayed still while you worked to remove the makeup from her face. you traced her inner thigh with a finger, indicating for her to open her eyes and hop off the vanity.

“we can worry about washing your face tomorrow, brush your teeth please.”

“can you help me?” she moaned, pouting once again.

“god, you really are a baby aren’t you?”

you teased, grabbing her toothbrush and applying toothpaste. opening your mouth as an example, you motion for her to do the same. you place one hand under chin as you move the toothbrush back and forth through her mouth and against her teeth.

“all done,” you say.

she spits her frothy mouth out and rinses it, spinning round to face you, almost tripping from the sudden turn. you grab her by the waist and press her against the counter, placing a soft kiss to her lips.

you lift alessia up, as she starts to sink to the ground from exhaustion. you place her on the opposite side of the bed, pulling the cover over her limp body and placing a kiss to her forehead.

“goodnight sweetheart, i love you.”

you also get into to bed, turning off the light, waiting in the darkness for alessia’s breathing to even out. it doesn’t.

breaking the silence, alessia speaks up.

“i want to have sex.”

“the answer is no, alessia,” you scold, “go to sleep.”

with a ‘hmph’ you feel the bed move as alessia moves away from you. you scoot closer towards her, holding her close as she nestled into your embrace.

____________________________________________

an: not very original mb also not proofread

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #manchester united wfc #lionessess

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songmingisthighs · 7 months

Text

your child called txt 'dad'

group : txt

pairing : txt (individual) × single mom!reader

genre : fluff

wc : 2.4 k

warning : kids being kids and txt being txt don't talk to me i am so soft for soobin rn and this is the start of my descent into absolute insanity because what the fuck

a/n : aight i might open request for reactions for both txt and ateez but i might have to work some things out first bc this is hella fun ngl

buy me coffee ?

soobin

Your son was uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, when your boyfriend, Soobin, is around, he's a regular chatterbox but not this time. While you noticed it since the day before, Soobin noticed it the minute he walked through the front door and asked for his regular hug that your son gave half-heartedly. It didn't worry you but it saddened Soobin a lot because he truly loves the boy. However, since he was about to go on tour, the next day, he figured he had to be the adult and just try to work through the boy's sulkiness.

From the moment Soobin arrived, he was determined to make your son, his best bud, go back to his usual giggly self. Hours spent on different activities that started indoors with stupid board games to Soobin trying (and failing miserably) to copy Taehyun's card tricks, and even outdoors to get ice cream from the convenience store (which was an excuse because he totally forgot to buy a travel size toothpaste and he needed to buy one while he still remembered). But absolutely nothing seemed to make your son crack a smile, his lips were in a permanently pursed form and his eyebrows furrowed. It was an understatement to say that Soobin was devastated because while your son was out in the living room, you and Soobin scurried to the kitchen so the giant of a man could bury his face in your stomach and let out a muffled scream while you held yourself from squirming, squealing, or even punching him due to being ticklish.

"Did you have fun with Soobinnie today, bud?" you asked as you scooped some food on your son's plate before moving to scoop food for Soobin who was on the other side of your son while you were at the head of the table. You could see your son peeking at Soobin from his bangs momentarily before nodding, quietly eating his food. It was almost comical how you started the day with one boy pouting and now you have two boys at your dining table. The fact that they looked so similar was hecking adorable though.

"You know, Soobin really wanted to spend the day with you having fun because we're not going to see him for a while because he has a tour. Remember the last time Binnie went on tour? He wanted to be able to play with you before he left because he's going to miss you," you tried reasoning with your son, hoping to at least get him to crack and pay attention to Soobin. But much to your and Soobin's surprise, your son finally looked up at you and then at Soobin with tears streaming down his face and bottom lip quivering as his tiny nose sniffled, "I don't want daddy to go," he whimpered before wailing, arms outstretched at Soobin, asking to be held.

Immediately, Soobin took your son in his arms and hugged him tightly, looking at you with eyes swimming in emotion. He didn't know how to react nor what to react to first, the fact that your son didn't wanna see him off or the fact that your son called him dad. The rest of the night they refused to be separated and honestly you wouldn't be surprised if Soobin bought your son a ticket to visit him while he was on tour. Just your son though.

yeonjun

"How can you say no to this? Baby, we're gonna be fucking adorable!" Yeonjun shrieked, following after you who was trying to evade him by going to the kitchen. Your eyes widened and you instinctively turned around and slapped Yeonjun on his arm after he cussed. Yeonjun's eyes widened and he too turned around to see the 3-year-old in pigtails looking up at him with her adorable eyes. "I mean, freaking," he chuckled nervously.

Going back to you, Yeonjun fell to his knees and hugged your legs, preventing you from walking away. "Yeonjun," you huffed, looking down at him, "Let me go." But Yeonjun shook his head, "Not until you said yes to either one of my ideas," he demanded, glaring up at you with determination. "For the last time, we are not going as Shrek, Fiona, and the little green ogre baby to your company's Halloween party!" You exclaimed exasperatedly. "And I told you we can go as Marlin, Dory, and Nemo!" He argued back. As if on cue, your daughter trod over to you and hugged your legs like Yeonjun with a giggle, "Nemo!" She exclaimed, grinning widely. "See? The little miss gets me," Yeonjun said, winking at the girl before pecking her on her cheek.

You do think that the three of you would be adorable in a group costume and you do think it would just be the best to see Yeonjun and your daughter together. You might actually look like a family even though you're not.

"Wait, if we go by Nemo," Yeonjun squealed through sealed lips in excitement only to stop when you gave him a look, "Are you Marlin or Dory? Because Little miss there is mine so I should be Marlin, right?" "What? Of course not, you're Dory, duhh," Yeonjun scoffed as he got up, feeling like he won because you were indulging him in the conversation. "Why am I Dory?" "Because you forget things all the time? Like you still haven't gotten milk so this morning I ate my cereal with americano," the look on your face only made Yeonjun nod, "Yeah, it was disgusting." Hearing the word, your daughter chimed in as she shook her head, "Yucky 'sreal."

"Whatever. Because of that, I'm not going as Dory or even Fiona. I'm Marlin or bust," you huffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Yeonjun was about to say something when your daughter screeched, "Mommy, no! Mommy Dory, daddy Marlin!" her cheeks were puffed as she clung onto Yeonjun's leg to make a point, startling you. While you were surprised, Yeonjun was simply amused, liking the sound of her calling him dad. He scooped her in his arms and bounced her slightly, "See? Daddy's little munchkin said daddy's Marlin so, boohoo mommy," he cackled turning to make his way to the living room with your daughter, leaving you baffled in the kitchen.

beomgyu

As a demon child himself, Beomgyu understood how you couldn't find a babysitter for your own demon child on such short notice. So of course, without thinking (at all) twice, Beomgyu offered to watch the little ankle biter (literally, Yeonjun's leg still has the mark) until you're finished with... Whatever important thing you had to handle. You mumble a lot when Beomgyu's daydreaming and he doesn't know why you do that when you end up scolding him for not listening. Knowing that Beomgyu has a rather special and unusual effect on your son (aka he's the only one who's able to calm him down), you decided why the hell not.

Somehow Beomgyu had managed to convince your son that he had a treasure buried in his room and the broom would make a loud beeping noise once he found it. Safe to say your son has been diligently sweeping Beomgyu's room while he and Soobin played a computer game. At least he's still paying attention to the boy. "No, no! Buddy, we don't go in the closet because..." Beomgyu trailed off, trying to think about something that would prevent the boy from ransacking the whole thing, "You'll leave your scent and the monster from the closet dimension can track you down when you go home?" Even Soobin was paying attention to see if your son would buy his bullshit. Thankfully, the boy gasped and immediately scrambled to Beomgyu's lap, "No, not the monster!" he whined, hugging Beomgyu tightly as he buried his face on Beomgyu's shoulder. Beomgyu couldn't help but chuckle and pat the boy gently on the head, loving how adorable he was and how absolutely similar they both were. Then again your son is 3 and Beomgyu has the same mental age, so...

"For someone who's able to come up with that L-I-E," Soobin peered down to see if the boy could understand his spelling only to see him furrowing his eyebrows at Soobin, "You suck at thinking on your feet in this game," he pointed out. Beomgyu scoffed and kicked Soobin's chair slightly, "Because I got you as a teammate, you're a bum!" he said. Determined to prove the other wrong, Beomgyu and Soobin soon found themselves in a fierce one-on-one battle while the little boy was perched on Beomgyu's lap, slumping as if Beomgyu was a couch as he sipped on his juice box. His eyes were darting between Beomgyu, Soobin, and their laptops, the colours and the clicking sound absolutely hypnotized him.

It wasn't until Beomgyu screeched loudly that the boy even noticed that he had lost to Soobin who was sporting a very smug smirk on his face. "Face it dude, you suck," Soobin teased. Your son looked between the smirking Soobin and the sulking Beomgyu before he puffed up his cheeks and reached over to slap Soobin wherever his hand could reach. "Daddy don't suck, Binnie sucks!" he huffed loudly, snarling at the shocked giant. Hearing how your son called him dad and was defending him, Beomgyu's defeated look was changed to a satisfied grin. Knowing how successful his babysitting was, Beomgyu was determined to share every single bit of detail so he can rub his success on your face.

"Yah! Beomgyu, help! He's biting my arm!" Soobin shrieked.

Well, maybe he could spare some details.

taehyun

It was supposed to be date night for you two. You had planned it down to the underwear Taehyun was going to take off of you but your daughter got sick out of the blue. She was fine in the morning when you confirmed your date with Taehyun on the phone but an hour before Taehyun was supposed to arrive with Kai and Yeonjun, your daughter caught a fever. While it sucked for you, it sucked for the little girl too because she was promised a cupcake frosting station back at the dorm. You had been so busy with your daughter that you forgot to tell Taehyun until he came knocking on your door.

"Taehyun, are you sure this is okay?" you were on the verge of another breakdown, feeling bad for making Taehyun stay in and also feeling dejected that you didn't get to go somewhere without a playground. But Taehyun just smiled gently, placing his coat on the armrest of your couch before enveloping you in a hug, gently kissing the side of your head as he spoke gently, "Hey, the whole point of date night is spending time together, are we not doing that?" And with that, you broke down sobbing again because of how sweet he was being. "If you're gonna cry, go cry in the kitchen, I'll get her back to bed," before you could ask what he meant, a cough and a tiny voice called out for you, "Mama?" Immediately, Taehyun let you go and rushed over to scoop the girl into his arms, "Hey there cutie, I heard you're sick, huh?" Taehyun asked gently. At the question, your daughter nodded her head slowly as she looked at Taehyun before she peeked at you and looked back at Taehyun as if asking what was wrong with you. Taehyun simply smiled and shook his head, "Don't worry about mama, okay? Let me put you back in bed," he was about to carry her off to her room when she squirmed and shook her head with a pout on her face. Looking down, Taehyun saw your daughter pointing at your room with glassy eyes and quivering bottom lip. Chuckling, Taehyun nodded and brought her to your room where her blanket was laid out in the middle of your bed, putting her down and tucking her with a peck to her forehead.

After you regain your emotions, you manage to immediately jump to your daughter's aid with Taehyun. It was a good thing too because apparently a sick child is a two-person job and Taehyun counted as three on his own. It amazes you how he was able to take care of your daughter well, knowing just what to give her and how to get her to eat and stay still as you flush the snot out of her nose. Despite her crying, wailing, and kicking, Taehyun managed to stay calm the whole time and even gave your daughter little praises whenever she managed to do what she was asked to. By the end, your daughter was clinging onto Taehyun with a cold patch on her forehead, her head rested on Taehyun's sturdy chest and her mouth agape. You couldn't help but take a picture of the absolutely endearing sight.

It was around 8 o'clock when your daughter finally calmed down and you both realized that you hadn't eaten dinner yet. "You go change into something less snotty, maybe wash the puke off your hair, and I'll order us some food, how's that?" Taehyun teased. Though you rolled your eyes at him, you nodded and left with a peck to his lips. As a man with taste and consideration, Taehyun decided to order something for not only you two but something your daughter can also snack on in case she woke up hungry and didn't want to finish her porridge. Taehyun was in the middle of placing the order in the delivery app on his phone when he heard tiny sniffles and sobs coming from behind. He snapped his head back only to see your daughter sitting up and crying. Her hands were outstretched towards him and her fingers made grabby motions, asking to be picked up. "Papa," she whimpered. If the crying child didn't melt his heart, him being called papa absolutely crushed him.

When you came back from your short shower, you were surprised to see your daughter draped over Taehyun's chest with her blanket covering her body and Taehyun scrolling on his phone. Sensing the attention, Taehyun shifted his gaze to you and grinned with a finger to his lips, "I've ordered something for us but I think you might have to go get it later," he explained. When you got closer to them, Taehyun grabbed your hand gently and he grinned so wide you were afraid that his face was going to split in half, "And she called me papa," he giggled, feeling happy which made you feel happy for him too.

huening kai

Honestly, you don't know why you agreed to Kai's suggestion in the first place. It wasn't that you don't like being in public with him, especially with staff around and his band members running around everywhere because you do. His members are some of the funniest people you've ever met and his job requires him to always be with staff so you acclimated because you love him. The same goes for how he acclimated with you and your son. Kai is a person with a big heart, he just wanted to have the people he loved around and get along well. Which wasn't hard at all because your usually shy-with-strangers son was suddenly being carried like a sack of flour by Yeonjun and you didn't even have to worry because Kai was there telling his hyung to be careful.

Within an hour, the initial doubt about your attendance at TXT's jacket photoshoot was scrubbed clean off your mind. Sure, it wasn't the first time you all met together with your son, but you were there to witness them working. You thought your son was going to hinder the work there but as it turns out, the staff loves him. Moreover, the staff loves him with Kai who insisted on spending as much moving time as he could spare with your son. Not only him, but the rest of the members seemed to like your little boy. You could only grin at the sight of your son playing with the members whilst waiting for directions.

During their group shoots, your son would sit by your side with his legs tapping impatiently. Kai seemed to speak the same language as your son, somehow managing to get the boy to sit quietly until Kai told him he could move around. You wanted to know what exactly he said. While it would be very out of character, you couldn't help but conclude that it's most likely a form of threat. It's not that you were judging or restricting Kai, you wanted to know so you could use it too. But then again, you didn't want to disturb whatever they have, it's better that it's just between them.

One thing you noticed most was the way your son was so intrigued with the wardrobe. While he stuck by Kai's side like glue in general, you noticed how he seemed to be very interested in Kai's jacket. While Kai was retouching his makeup, your son would play around with the material; tugging on it gently, putting it over his head, and even slipping himself between Kai and the material. When Kai went over to do his solo shoots, your son could only follow after him and stood by, watching your boyfriend work in pure awe.

You seemed to have lost track of time and attention because before you knew it, you heard your son squealing and running to the set but this time with a jacket and hair styled similar to Kai's. You thought that people would be mad and that your boyfriend would scold your innocent little rascal. But he laughed and crouched down with arms opened wide, happily gathering your boy in his arms and spinning him around. "Look, I look just like daddy!" Your son giggled, showing off the jacket he was wearing whilst tugging on the jacket Kai was wearing. You must've only expected the worst-case scenarios because while you thought that Kai would be embarrassed, you only saw him beam and wave at the photographer, asking for a couple of shots of them together for his phone wallpaper.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @thesolarplanetarysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread @spooo00oky @jwnghyuns @cutie-wooyo @asjkdk @shinotani @aestheticsluut

@chloepurpy

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omgjumin · 2 years

Text

6:32am ☆ miya atsumu

tags: fem! reader, pet names (princess, girlfriend, girl)

you've never been provoked to hit your boyfriend, but with atsumu dragging you out of bed too early, only to prop you up onto the bathroom counter so you can watch him get ready, this might be a first for you. "tsumu, i wanna go to bed." you repulsively dragged out. your darkened eye bags were evidence of how tired you truly were but atsumu didn't seem to care. and he only hummed at your current drowsy state.

"and i want bonding time with my girlfriend, is that a problem?" you had to scoff at his deceiving explanation. he, who begged to the point where he might've even gotten on his knees for you to spend the night. you would've cooed at him if that was the real reason he woke you up, anytime spent with him is amazing. however, you've spent the last two days under his roof, in his house eating, drinking, napping, cooking, chilling, and sleeping together. not one moment was spent without atsumu so you knew this was not solely him wanting to be with you. but rather him wanting you to watch him get ready. to see how perfect and attractive your boyfriend truly was at any point of the day.

you rolled your eyes and groaned at the half naked man in front of you. with his gray worn out sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips while a towel draped over his shoulder, atsumu threw you a quick smirk before turning away. you really hated to admit it, you'd rather go on his 5am jog than admit it to his face that he was actually really attractive right now. with his stupid messy damp blonde hair and his stupid pretty brown eyes that lit up everytime he looked at you, and his stupid stupid stupid attractive voice that sounded like heavens gold in the morning. you hated how even after turning away from you, his bare back was stupidly pretty, his muscles that flexed ever so slightly with how he walks and the way his hands flowed loosely along side his hips. "ya comin' or not?" he asked, stopping to lean against the door frame. "yeah, whatever." you rolled your eyes, annoyed at his jaw dropping sight but you can't complain. "i know im pretty but pick yer jaw off the floor." atsumu quickly snickered before running away. his slightly damp body hitting the bed in laughter. shortly after, you landed on top of him, hands tickling his sides, before stopping to place a kiss to his soft lips.

"you're lucky i love you." you huffed before connecting with atsumu's lips again. there's a distinct taste of his toothpaste on your lips but you didn't mind, not when his hands held you tight in his arms while your lips slowly danced together. his blonde hair was still messy, his face was soft from his nicely put together skincare, the unwelcomed sunlight grazing his skin, making him glow even more, and his still not yet fully clothed body though he needs to leave in five minutes, but even despite his current state, he truly was the prettiest at this moment. atsumu is pretty. prettier than all flowers that bloom in the spring, his eyes shining more than the sun when he looks at you, but what you think is the prettiest of them all, is his charming smile. the lazy smile that sits on atsumu's face after you pull away from his lips. "and i love you too, my pretty girl."

but most importantly, atsumu thinks if there's one person who's prettier than him, is you.

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legendsofamultishipper · 2 months

Text

So, since TOWL started, but even moreso after this episode, we've been discussing when was the exact moment Rick & Michonne fell in love.

Here are my thoughts.

-For Michonne, I think it's obvious and Danai already said as much. It was when she watched Rick bite a man's throat out to save his son. She saw that this man (a man she cared deeply for, a man she was very attracted to) was willing to do absolutely anything for his family and she realized he was the one. This was the man she loved. This was the man she wanted. For herself and for the future family they were already building.

-For Rick, I think it was a more gradual process. The attraction was there from day 1. From the moment he saw her standing at that fence. Sure, he was still grieving and half out of his mind, but he could see the woman standing in front of him was out-of-this-world gorgeous and their chemistry was undeniable. He could feel that tension between them even if his mind wasn't there yet.

-I think he started to fall for her in "Clear." The moment she told him she knew he'd been seeing things and she could relate, he realized she saw HIM. She saw him and accepted him in a way no one else could. What was he going to do, NOT fall for this amazing woman who understood him in a way no one ever had? Please.

-I think he fell in love with her more and more each day, but when did he actually realize he was in love with her? Imo, it was when they got to Alexandria. When he had time to take a moment to really process everything they'd been through. He takes a minute to himself and it dawns on him that he's in love with Michonne. But also, he can't be.

-Because Michonne is his son's best friend. She and Carl, they've built this incredible bond and it's precious. It's too precious to put at risk. Rick starts to worry that if he and Michonne get together, it could damage the relationship between Michonne and Carl. And Rick can't do that. He can't take that away from them. He loves his son and he loves Michonne and he won't risk hurting either of them.

-So he makes a decision. He and Michonne can't be together. At least not now. Maybe, when Carl is older. Maybe once his son has formed close bonds with other people like the one he shares with Michonne...but not now. Not when Carl and Michonne need each other. So it can't happen.

-And as Rick is trying to figure out how to suppress his feelings for Michonne, Jessie is there. And she's nice and pretty and suffering in a bad marriage to a bad man and that's a problem Rick can actually do something about. He can get this woman and her kids away from her pos husband so they can be safe. Now he's got something to focus on. Now he's got a mission that will take his attention away from the breathtaking woman he's in love with but can't actually be with.

-And so he uses Jessie as a distraction. Now, let's be clear, he doesn't do this on purpose. Rick is a good man and he would never intentionally use someone in that way. He just wanted to help this woman escape her abusive husband. But she's kind to him and she reminds him of Lori so they form a connection. And it's good. Or it could be good. If he works at it. If he tries. It could maybe, someday, turn into something good for both of them.

-But then Carl is shot and everything changes. I think, even if Jessie had lived and it had been some random kid who shot Carl, their relationship would be over. Because now Rick knows what matters to him. He knows WHO matters to him and it's not Jessie. It's Michonne. It's only ever been Michonne. And while he's still worried about how Carl might react, he can't deny his feelings anymore. So he's going to tell her how he feels.

-But how does he do that? How can he make his move on the woman who means everything to him? Where does he even start showing her how much he loves her? He's still trying to figure that out when she gives him an opening. The toothpaste. She needs something and he can give it to her. Sure, it's a small gesture, but it's a way to start showing her how he feels. He can do this. He's going to do this. He's going to bring her a whole damn truck full of toothpaste until his plans get shot to hell.

-So he gives her the mints. It's not what she wanted, but maybe it's enough. And it is. Because she doesn't need the toothpaste or the mints or any other small romantic gesture. She needs him. She needs him the way he needs her. She LOVES him the way he loves her and all that worrying was for nothing. Because Carl is going to be fine. (😭) His relationship with Michonne is unshakable. And whatever weirdness he feels at seeing Rick and Michonne together is something they can deal with. As a family. Because that's what they are. That's what they've always been.

.....Anyway.......those are my thoughts :)

When do YOU think Rick & Michonne fell in love?

#richonne #meta #i guess?#rick x michonne #twd towl #towl spoilers #the ones who live #rick grimes #michonne grimes #carl grimes #grimes family #danai gurira #my thoughts #long post

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Note

Happy 500! 🩵 I feel like "best friend's brother" and the Millers is something smutty just waiting to happen, maybe? 🫢

Best Friend's Brother.

y. Best Friend's Brother

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. thank you for this request!! another one for my will girlies - love you all <3

Pairing - Will Miller x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 900

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

You've known Benjamin Miller since you were a teenager.

He's been there through thick and thin, love and loss, good and bad.

He makes you laugh until you cry, happily watches awful movies with you, and loves to make you breakfast for dinner. He knows you like the back of his hand, and vice versa. He's the best friend you could ever ask for.

He also has the most beautiful brother in the world.

William Miller is the bane of your existence. Golden hair, big blue eyes, gleaming smile. He's aged like a fine wine, and damn have you noticed. You love Benny more than anything, and you'd never do anything to jeopardise that. But my god... it's tempting.

You're one too many tequilas down when you realise you're wobbling. You're holding onto the bar's bathroom sink for balance, attempting to keep yourself upright. You pull out your phone and call Benny, your designated taxi driver.

"Hello?"

"Benny. Baby. I am drunk! So drunk. The room is spinning, actually. Bathrooms don't spin, right?"

"Sweetheart, this is Will. Benny left his phone at my place. Where are you? You need me to come and get you?"

"Will! Hey Will. Wonderful Will. I am drunk. Very drunk."

"You may have mentioned that," he chuckles. "Where are you?"

"O'Lockes, I think. You know the place with the lights? The pretty lights?"

"Yeah, I know the one. Stay there, okay? I'm coming."

He gets to you within 20 minutes, which means he can't possibly have followed any of the speed limits. You're sat on the bench waiting outside when you see his truck pull up.

"Hey, you."

"Hi, William. Beautiful boy. God, you're the best."

"Thank you," he chuckles.

He gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to help you in.

"Chivalry isn't dead, huh?" you giggle. "Such a gentleman. How are you single? Why are you single? Do you want to be? You don't have to be. Every single girl in that bar would swoon for you, William."

"Alright, this feels like 20 questions. You need help with that seat belt?"

Will reaches over and buckles you in. His face is so close to yours, you can smell his toothpaste. The tiny part of your brain that's still rational begs you not to kiss him.

He jumps into the drivers side and starts up the engine. He turns up the heat so you're warm enough, and turns the music down so it isn't too loud. You curl into the heated seat and sigh contently, sobering up pretty quickly.

By the time he's pulling into your driveway, you can't feel the tequila anymore. You're warm, you're happy, and you're madly in love with the man sitting next you. What could go wrong?

"Hey Will?" you ask when he cuts the engine.

"Yeah, honey?"

"Why are you single? I'm not trying to be nosy. Just curious."

"Curious, huh?" he drawls, smiling gently at you.

"I mean - I've never heard you talk about a girlfriend, or even going on a date. Ever since I've known you, you've been practically always single."

"Yeah. Dating isn't really my thing, I guess. Too much effort."

"Too much effort? Will, I've never heard you say anything is too much effort."

He chuckles, and you laugh along with him.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just waiting for a certain someone."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Anyone in particular?" you ask, toeing the line.

"Maybe," he mutters. "Maybe."

He leans in over the centre console and presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You thread your hands into his hair and pull him closer, desperate to feel all of him. He grabs your hips and pulls you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.

You whine and the sound shoots straight to his core. He groans in response, tongue licking into your mouth. You shakily unbutton his jeans, pulling your skirt up around your waist.

"Should we go inside?" you pant breathlessly.

"Can't wait that long," he replies quickly. "Need to feel you now."

You pull him out of his underwear and lower yourself down, the both of you moaning in unison. The angle is a little awkward and you accidentally bump your head on the roof of his truck, but neither of you can find it in you to stop.

You set a steady rhythm, rising and falling with determination. Will helps you, grabbing at your hips and moving you as he pleases. You drop your forehead to rest against his, sweat mixing and breaths mingling.

"Oh, fuck," you whine.

"Yeah, baby. Keep going. You're doing so good. Don't stop, yeah?"

"Not stopping," you reply. "Never stopping."

Will moves his thumb to rub circles between your legs, causing you to breathlessly pant his name like a prayer.

"So close, Will. So close."

"Come on, honey. Give it to me. I can feel it. Yeah, that's it."

You fall over the edge with a moan, gripping at his hair. You tug a little harder than intended, but it does the trick, sending him into his own climax. He's groaning your name, and you're convinced the sound will be ingrained in your mind forever.

You're both panting, chests heaving. Then, you burst into a fit of giggles. It seems to be contagious, because Will joins you.

"What?" he asks through the laughter.

"How the fuck are we gonna tell Ben?"

637 notes · View notes

persefolli · 11 months

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮…𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Miguel! Ah!” You squealed, feeling the cold ocean water on your skin. “You got my hair wet! I'm gonna fucking kill you!l You giggled, splashing more water at him.

Miguel laid awake as the sun began to dawn over Nueva York. His eyes were red, watery, and sore, but he insisted on staying up, just to watch his home videos a bit longer.

His lips winced into a smile before jumping at the sound of his alarm. His growing smirk faded almost as soon as it came.

Miguel swiftly waved his hand, making all of his video tabs disappear in thin air, then sitting up.

“Morning Miguel!” A chipper voice greeted him.

He looked over, pretending to be annoyed at his AI companion.

“Oh…” You grimaced at his appearance. “You really need to get that insomnia checked out.” You commented

Insomnia was a lie Miguel made up so no one would ask questions as to what he was doing that made him so grouchy during the day. He also didn't want to break your code by confessing he was watching memories of the two of you together…well not you, but you, his wife.

“Today is gonna be a sunny day. Eighty two degrees with a windchill of eighty.” You spun and appeared in shorts and a tank top. “Don't forget your sunscreen O’Hara.”

“Don't need it.” He groaned getting out of bed.

“That's a myth! Us people of color still need our sunscreen Migs.”

His head snapped up from brushing his teeth. He quickly spit out his toothpaste and looked towards your floating algorithm. “What did you just call me?”

“Migs.”

Miguel stared with an indifferent face for a few moments. The way his nickname rolled off your tongue….It was almost as if-

“Don't call me that again okay?”

“Fine?” You stomped mid-air.

Miguel suited up and you began the morning sequence. Playing some soft music, starting the coffee machine, and lifting all the blinds in his apartment, switching on the TV, and opening up his closet.

Miguel walked over to the kitchen and made him a bagel, something quick and easy. He held the bagel in his mouth as he suited up in his spidey-suit for the day.

After a coffee break, his alarm started beeping. Once

“Great.” He muttered. “Y/n what's the problem?”

You appeared in front of him. “Anomaly detected on Earth-65.”

“Take me there.”

---

The building was destroyed…to say the least but Miguel and Jessica saved the day. They ended up inviting the spider of that earth to join the spider society, of course after a bit of convincing from you and Jessica.

Miguel walked into his headquarters and powered on his large device, where multiple screens popped up. Camera feeds in each universe, at least the ones that were hit spots for anomalie. He swiped through, checking to see if anything was out of order.

“You know it's unhealthy to stare at screens for long amounts of time…and that close.” You popped up.

Miguel looked at you annoyed. “Who summoned you?”

“Summon is a very…strong word. I can tell you're looking for something so i'm here to help.”

He scowled at you before sighing. “The Spot villain. I need to know more about him.”

“The Spot is-”

“No, No.” Miguel stopped you. “Do the explany thingy.”

You smiled softly and nodded. Soon, the room turned into a fake void, and you grew to full size. You spun and turned into a man with long hair and a beard.

“Don't-. Turn back.” Miguel demanded.

“Ugh you're no fun!” You turned back into your normal self and shrunk back to pixie size. Resting on his shouldersu, you waved your hand.

“Doctor Jonathan Ohnn worked for Alchemax on Earth-616.” You displayed the human, pre villain of course. “He worked closely with Doc Ock, but unfortunately became a laughing stock after…being hit with a bagel.”

“A bagel?” Miguel asked.

“And everything bagel with cream cheese.”

“No peppers?” Miguel said amused, referencing his own bagel go-to.”

“No peppers!” You exclaimed back. “Anyways, he HATES that kid Miles Morales, the one you were talking about.”

Miguel's face fell flat seeing the events replay in front of him. His eyes narrowed at the clumsy young boy, and he shook his head.

“Would you like for me to continue?”

“No.” Miguel turned back to his screen. “That's enough for tonight.”

You turned the room back to normal and pulled up a few screens of Miles Morales spidey-profile.

“Would you like me to elaborate on-”

The change in Miguel's face intensified seeing Miles again. “No! Cut it off!” He yelled.

You quickly did as told and crossed your arms.

“Migs, what is with you and that kid?”

Miguel took a few deep breaths in before turning to face you. “What did I say about that nickname?”

“Miguel- Okay listen. I know you're the boss and all but the mere mention of that kid sets you off. Why?”

Miguel didn't want to tell you that he envied Morales. Watching him from a distance and seeing him go home to his parents, his family. While he was stuck in a world without you-

“Shut down for tonight.” Miguel places his hand over his eyes.

“Miguel-”

“Lock the computer and shut down.”

You nodded and disappeared.

---

The internet is an endless void of searches, media, content, and texts. When Miguel allowed you in the computer during his free time you opted to watch youtube videos on stupid things like cats getting scared by cucumbers

When Miguel ordered you to lock the computer, it was like being a security guard for a museum. You only had access to personal files, which was far too complex for you to want to see anyway. So basically you chilled on the home screen until Miguel summoned you again.

You waited on the dark home screen, one of which was a spiderman logo. Groaning, you cursed yourself for angering your boss. Miguel was so emotional, and it drove you crazy at times.

Standing on the deskbar, you stomped, accidentally opening the already open tab of his files. And what came up shocked you.

Hundreds of videos and pictures of….you?

“What the hell?” You walked closer to a video of your face that was close in a camera. You put your hand on the play button and watched

“This is Y/n and…man.” Y/n turned the camera. “Miguel got us a room at the Ritz-Carlton for our honeymoon.”

You watched confused as you….but not you, showed the luxury hotel room.

“Here's a bottle of champagne and- oh! These fancy robes.” Y/n pushed the camera out to show that she was in a robe.

“Thank you so much baby.” Ricky smiled before turning the camera to Miguel, who was on the bed, in his robe reading….a book?

The video ended, and you quickly went scrolling through pictures. Going down a rabbit hole, you found pictures of your wedding, the trips you took, the two of you playing around in the spider suit…and some spicy moments between you two.

It all came to a halt when you came across an obituary. Your face was plastered on it, with a birth and death date.

---

The next morning you were more quiet, starting the morning sequence and watching Miguel prepare for the day.

“Miguel.”

“Hm?” He said looking down over the skyline of Nueva York from his window.

“We need to talk.”

You watched his body stiffen at your tone. He turned around and tilted his head. “About?”

You looked at your hands and shivered. “Who am I?”

“You're an AI, named Y/n.” He answered with a snarky tone.

“Who was I?”

He fell silent for a few moments. “A program.”

“That's not what I meant Miguel.” You waved your hand and multiple screens of your findings popped up. Miguel's eyes widened and his breathing stopped once he saw you everywhere at once.

“Y-you're….I-”

“I'm not just an AI am I?”

Miguel shook his head. You looked at him in disbelief as he pulled a screen in front of him, playing a video.

“You were my wife.” He stated at the video with loving eyes, “My beautiful, sweet wife…” He trailed off.

You looked at him with a sorry expression.

“On Earth-2099 you got sucked into a wormhole…one of my failed experiments.” He looked at his hands as if they were covered in blood. “I jumped through every dimension trying to find you and never did. Then I found a new dimension where you were just normal old Y/n.”

He looked over to you. “We were happy…for 6 months. Got married and everything.” He sighed deeply. “But I didn't know that if I attempted to call another dimension my home it would be destroyed I-...I fucked up a canon event…I think. You- You were never meant to marry me, not in that dimension.”

A body camera popped up in front of you two and it showed the demolition of your dimension, running while holding your hand. Y/n ran as fast as she could, but the next time Miguel turned around she was gone. He didn't even feel her disappear.

Miguel sat on the edge of the bed sobbing, holding his face as he cried. You'd never seen this before. Eyes red, nose runny Miguel. You could hear the pain in his voice, and it made you regret bringing this up to him.

“If I- If I- If I made you like this…kept you like this.” He motioned around your body. “You can't leave me.” He choked out. Miguel tried reaching for you but his hand went right through, which made him lean his head down and sob. “I can see you! I can get through the torture of every day if I can just see your face.”

“Oh Miguel-”

“Don't! I don't wanna hear it!” He yells.

You looked at him somberly before smiling softly.

“If it helps. I am programmed to absorb information and adapt. If you give me access to your files, I can accurately depict Y/n.”

Miguel stopped his crying and looked up at you. “You can do that? From just photos and pictures?

“Yes, social media and personal documents as well.”

“And you'll be the same? Just like her?”

“Like she never left.” You reassured.

Miguel quickly wiped his eyes and ran over to his laptop, opening it.

“Do it. Do it now.”

#persefolliwrites #persefolli #wattpad #spiderman astv #astv x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #angst

559 notes · View notes

ghostiexe · 5 months

Text

Teacher!Wilbur x Teacher!Reader Part 2

hello friends & merry christmas to those who celebrate! my gift is chapter two of this haha. i might start doing a taglist, so please let me know if you want added!! cw: lots of awkward conversation (not uncomfortable topics wilbur is just shy), wilbur spills boiling hot coffee on his hand, i think that's it!

words: 3,831

also, welcome tommy to the stage everybody :)

part one here

On Monday, you find yourself waking up to the realization that your alarm never went off. A panicked sound slips past your lips, and you practically throw yourself out of bed.

Okay, yes, a bit dramatic. However, you really don’t want to have to rush to get ready. You ended up having to go home before you were able to finish decorating your room, so you had been hoping to get to the school as early as possible and get it done.

You start to root through all your clothes, still mildly panicked. You finally find something suitable to wear, shoving it on and glancing yourself up and down in your full length mirror on your closet door. You sigh softly and nod at yourself, a weak attempt to hype yourself up. Then you drag yourself to the bathroom and start to brush your teeth, staring at yourself blankly in the mirror before you lean down, spit out the toothpaste, and hurry to finish the rest of your routine.

On your way out the front door several minutes later, you adjust your shoulder bag and sigh as you check the time on your phone. You don’t live too far away from the school, only a couple blocks, so you opt to walk. You don’t have a car, anyway– it had broken months ago, and you didn’t have the energy or money to get it looked at.

So, walking it is.

It only takes you about five minutes to get to the school, and when you arrive, you rush through the building to your room, shivering slightly from the walk. The school was mostly barren outside of a couple kids who were waiting outside and a few teachers you passed, though you didn’t know them. As you finally make it to your room, you reach for the door until you notice the sound of arguing a couple doors down.

You probably shouldnt pry, but your curiosity gets the better of you and you slip down to the door, peeking inside to discover Wilbur bickering with some tall blonde kid with curly hair and bright blue eyes. Wilbur is standing with his back turned to the door, trying to hang up a map, while the (presumably) teen boy sits on his dark oak desk and chastises Wilbur on his “horrible placement skills”. You clear your throat and they both turn their attention to you.

The blonde kid just stares at you, but Wilbur smiles. “Oh, hello!” He greets you. You nod, eyes slightly furrowed as you take in his outfit. It’s quite old looking, but it goes perfectly well with his large glasses.

“You look like you came straight out of the ‘90s.” You say instead of greeting him back, leaning on his doorframe. His face goes a bit pink and the blonde kid laughs loudly.

“That’s what I told him!” He says gleefully, like he’s just won an argument. Maybe he has.

Wilbur groans. “Tommy, go find your classes or something.” He grumbles, and you feel a flicker of confusion at the way the two of them interact. “Uh, and who is this, again, Wilbur?” You ask, pushing yourself upright instead of leaning and wandering further into his room. It’s a bit dark, the overhead lights are turned off. Instead, the room is lit by several lamps. You quite like it.

“Oh.” Wilbur says, gesturing to the blonde kid. “This is my brother, Tommy. He’s 17, I’m technically his legal guardian.” He says, and you nod, not pressing for further information. Tommy chimes in. “I’m actually a very strong man.” He informs you.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” You say with a laugh, starting to take in the rest of Wilbur’s classroom. “It looks nice in here, you’ve done a nice job.” You say, looking over at him. A playful grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Soot.” You add. Wilbur smiles bashfully.

“Thank you. Tommy hates it.” He says, running a hand through his brown curls. You laugh.

“Well, I don’t. It’s very cozy.” You say. Tommy groans. “Ugh, who cares about cozy? It needs some spice. Some danger.” Tommy insists, hopping off of Wilbur’s desk and sauntering towards the door. He salutes lazily to the two of you. “Anyway, have fun talking about boring teacher stuff, I’m going to go see if they have breakfast yet.” He says, then promptly walks away, sneakers squeaking as he goes. You and WIlbur both wince at the noise.

“He does it just to annoy me.” Wilbur informs you as the two of you both stare at where he just walked away. Wilbur’s gaze flickers over to you, and you nod.

“Little brothers.” You say, looking over and meeting his gaze. Wilbur cracks a small smile.

“Little brothers.” He agrees.

–

Four short (or painfully long, you can’t decide) hours later, it’s finally lunch break, and you immediately slump down onto your desk, groaning as you rest your head against it. Your kids were pretty good, and it was pretty relaxed since it was only the first day, but you’ve already got an itch on which kids will be causing trouble.

Tommy had ended up in your second period, and to your pleasant surprise, he was actually very enthusiastic about the topics you discussed teaching that year when you went through the class modules and he had very smugly told you to watch out for when he came back for your creative writing class later today.

You actually quite like Tommy, and his friends. He told you he’s friends with everybody, but you can tell by the way that most kids avoid him that he was just saying that. He does have these two kids that he was talking to, though, a short brown-haired boy and a really (ridiculously) tall boy with a mask. You don’t remember most of the names of the kids in your class, which– yeah, you should probably work on that– but Tommy’s group seemed mostly pleasant, if a bit chaotic.

Back to the present, you lift your head off of your desk and sigh as you reach for your tupperware with your lunch in it, dragging yourself to the teacher’s lounge to heat up your leftovers from dinner last night. When you get there, you see Wilbur hovering awkwardly by the microwave, posture a bit hunched as a small group of random teachers talk on the other side of the room.

You walk up to Wilbur and almost tap on his shoulder, but you refrain. You don’t know much about him, after all, he might not be okay with casual touch. Instead, you stand next to him.

“Hey.” You greet him, and he startles slightly, then his body languish shifts into something softer and less tense when he sees you. He offers you a stilted smile.

“Oh, hello.” He says, reaching to open the microwave when it beeps. “How has your first day been so far?” He asks, pulling his food out and pushing his glasses up with his opposite hand. You hum as you think of how to word your answer.

“Good, but exhausting.” You say after a moment, and he laughs softly, looking down at his food.

“That’s fair. At least you’ve got the upperclassman, yeah?” He asks, stepping away from the microwave and gesturing for you to go ahead. You pop your food in and start it, then turn back to him, clearing your throat.

“You’re right. Uh, how’s your day going?” You ask, and he cringes.

“Uhh, I think okay? The kids certainly haven’t forgotten that I’m the boring teacher, though. Um, hopefully I’ll be able to get them interested, though.” He says, tapping his fingers against his food container. Your eyes drift down to them and you notice how calloused they are, but don’t mention it.

“I’ll manifest it for you.” You say, smiling a little bit, and he laughs a bit breathlessly.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” He says, shaking his head and shuffling awkwardly.

The microwave beeps and you pull your food out, looking up at Wilbur, who’s staring down at his shoes.

“...Do you want to eat with me?” You ask, breaking the awkward silence. “Okay.” He agrees, looking back at you, then glancing around the teacher’s lounge. “Um, we can eat in my room.” He decides, then his gaze flickers back to you. “If that’s okay.”

You nod, cracking a smile. “That sounds nice. Thank you.” You tell him, holding your food close to your chest. He smiles back, this time a little less awkwardly, and nods.

“Okay, then. Um, it should be pretty quiet there. The only kid that really drops by is one of my brother’s friends, but I don’t know if he’ll be doing that a bunch this year.” He explains, and the two of you start the walk to his classroom, holding your respective tupperware containers.

“Oh? The tall one with the mask, or the really short one? Or are there some other secret friends hiding around the school somewhere?” You ask, since it’s wholly possible that Tommy has more than just two friends.

“Ah, the tall one.” Wilbur tells you, unlocking his door and holding it open for you. “Thank you.” You say, stepping inside and then letting him usher you over to his desk. He pulls over a comfy looking chair for you and gestures for you to sit, pulling over his own spinny chair to face you.

The two of you sit, and you tap your fingers awkwardly on the lid of your container. He looks at you, then down to your hands, then he clears his throat and starts to tap his blunt nails against his desk.

“Well.” He says, like he has something to say, but he doesn’t add anything after that, looking up to stare at you blankly.

You blink slowly. “Well…” You agree, sitting back in the chair and crossing your legs.

Wilbur takes the lid off his food and starts to poke at it with a black plastic fork. You set your food down in your lap.

“The Front Bottoms.” You say, trying to break the silence. He looks up at you, looking mildly bewildered, then huffs out a breathless laugh.

“What?” He asks, a bit of the tension melting away. You laugh too.

“Sorry. I just meant… Um, you like The Front Bottoms. What else do you listen to?” You ask, and he smiles shyly, looking down at his food.

“Oh, well, I like a little bit of everything.” He says, sounding a bit bashful.

“Come on, lay it on me.” You say, waving your hand as if to brush off his shyness. “Okay…” He says slowly, clearly trying to think. “Well… My favorite band is called Los Campesinos!, they’re a seven piece Welsh band.” He explains, pushing his glasses up with one finger. You think it’s adorable. “But I also like Crywank, Arctic Monkeys, um… The Strokes, american poetry club, Modern Baseball…” He cuts himself off. “Sorry, I’m talking a lot.” He apologizes.

“No, no, it’s okay! I asked, after all.” You reassure him, reaching over to pat his hand before pulling away and starting to poke at your food with your fork. “I know a couple of those bands, we have similar music tastes.” You say, lifting your fork and covering your mouth with your hand as you chew.

He smiles at that. “Oh, yay!” He says, clapping his hands lightly. You swallow and smile. “What music do you listen to?” He asks, looking genuinely intrigued. You think for a moment, genuinely drawing a blank.

“Oh, well, um…” You say, furrowing your eyebrows. He takes a bite of his food. “I- Uh, sorry, I’m not good on the spot.” You apologize, and he shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay. We can talk about music another time.” He says, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right.” You agree, setting your food down again in your lap. “By the way, what’s with the outfit?” You ask, immediately regretting the way you worded it when he frowns. “I love it! Seriously.” You add hurriedly, reaching over and patting his knee. “Just curious.”

He shifts slightly when you pat his knee and he crosses his legs, scratching his jaw as he thinks. “Uh, well… I’m not sure, I just like how it looks.” He says, gesturing to his outfit. “It reminds me of my favorite teacher from when I was in middle school. He was quite old, honestly, but he’s sort of my inspiration for becoming a teacher.” Wilbur explains, a light blush on his face. The soft ‘awww’ slips past your lips before you can stop yourself. “That’s… actually really sweet.” You say, smiling at him gently. “I kinda just assumed you were into the vintage fashion scene.” You say with a soft giggle.

“Well,” he says with a short laugh, “that’s also true. I mean, the glasses should make that obvious.” He says, gesturing to his face.

“Well, it suits you!” You say, smiling. “Seriously, I think you look very handsome.” You tell him, taking another few bites of your food before closing the tupperware and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He smiles. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it, usually the students just make fun of me and call me old.” He says with a soft laugh. “Well, clearly they have no culture.” You joke, gaze wandering from him to the bookshelf in the corner of his room. “Oh, do you mind if I take a look?” You ask, pointing at it.

“No, of course I don’t mind.” He says, putting his hands on his knees and standing up. You follow the action, walking with him to the back of the room. “This side is all textbooks,” he explains, gesturing to the right side, “but the other is all books I’ve brought from home for students to borrow.” He says. You nod and trace your finger over the spines of some of the books, glancing across them.

“I should do that, too.” You say, tilting your head to the side to read some of the titles. He hums.

“Yeah, you are the English teacher after all. Don’t want to get caught lacking.” He says, and you roll your eyes fondly.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he speaks again. “You look nice, too, by the way.” He says.

You’re confused for a moment. “Huh?” His face goes a bit pink. “You said I look handsome. Um, you look great too. Your style suits you well.” He explains, and it’s suddenly your turn to blush. “Thank you.” You say bashfully, brushing a bit of hair out of your face. “Yeah, of course.” He tells you, reaching to pull a book out of the shelf, but suddenly the bell is ringing. You jump slightly and huff, placing a hand on your chest as your heart races.

“Fuck, I need to get used to the bell.” You complain under your breath, standing up straight. “Thanks for letting me eat with you, Wilbur, I seriously appreciate it.” You tell him. He nods. “No problem. I wouldn’t mind making it a habit.” He says, smiling at you. “Let me walk you to your classroom.” He tells you.

“And I wouldn’t mind that either.” You agree. “It’s only a few doors down.” You remind him. A couple kids start filing into his class.

“I know.” He says. “Please?” He gives you his best puppydog eyes and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, fine.” You relent, and he beams.

The two of you walk out of his room and he walks on the left side of you as you make your way down the hallway. Once you make it to your door, he opens it for you and you shoot him a grateful smile.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Soot.” You say, bowing clumsily at him. He giggles.

“Yeah, yeah. See you later.” He says.

“See you later.” You agree, nodding and stepping into your class. You sigh as you walk over to your desk, watching the student pile inside.

Time for your first creative writing class of the semester.

–

By the end of the day, you’re absolutely exhausted, and you feel like a mess. You probably look the part, too, seeing as Tommy gives you a weird look when he walks past you later in the hallway on your way to the teacher’s lounge on your prep period. You’ve been in there for probably twenty minutes now, just holding a mug of herbal tea and staring blankly at the floor. The ceramic mug is hot under your hands, a pleasant burn on the pads of your fingers as you space out.

All in all, not an awful first day, just… wow, you need to decompress. You’re so thankful that you didn’t assign anything for the first day, God knows you can’t grade right now. You’re mostly alone there until about fifteen minutes until school ends, when Wilbur happens to walk in, bee-lining toward the coffee machine. His sudden entrance makes you snap out of it, and you look up at him, walking as he sighs and waits for the coffee, having not yet noticed you.

After a minute of watching him in silence, he finally turns, holding his mug of coffee in his hands. Apparently he was not at all expecting anyone else to be in here, because he jolts slightly and a bit of coffee splashes out and all over his hand. He hisses in pain and sets the mug down, and you stand up.

“Oh, shit.” You say, setting down your own mug and walking over to him, lifting his hand and examining it. You drag him over to the sink and turn on the cold water, guiding his hand under it and holding it there, your own hand also under the water.

“This is embarrassing.” He mumbles after a moment, then laughs softly. “It’s fine. I’ve spilt boiling water on myself too many times.” You say, trying to console him. He hums in acknowledgement and you blink when you realize that you don’t need to be holding his hand anymore, pulling it away and wiping it off on your shirt. “Uh, you can take your hand out when it feels a bit better.” You tell him, walking over to the small table and grabbing some napkins. After a moment, the water turns off and you turn to hand the napkins to him. He dries off his hand and looks down, crumpling the napkins and tossing them into the trash. “Kobe!” You whisper shout, a habit ingrained into you from hearing teen boys do the exact same thing for years. He giggles and shakes his head, and you gesture for him to show you his hand. He lifts it obediently for you and you examine it before humming thoughtfully to yourself. “It doesn’t look bad, it’s only a first degree burn.” You tell him, letting go of his hand. “I have some lotion, it’ll help.” You say, looking up into his eyes. He nods, smiling shyly.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to.” He says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Are you sure? It’ll soothe the burn.” You insist. He relents after a moment.

“Okay. Thank you, I appreciate it.” He tells you, letting you lead him back to your classroom. You hum as you unlock the door and beckon him inside, taking his hand again as you lift your lotion from your desk and take a little bit of it, spreading it gently across his hand. He hums softly as you do so, and after a moment, you let go of his hand and spread the remaining lotion across your own hands.

“Does that feel any better?” You ask him, and he just looks down at his hand before glancing at you again. “Um, yes, thank you.” He says, smiling shyly. “You’re too kind, really.”

You both laugh softly and then you brush a bit of hair out of your face. “It’s no problem, Wilbur.” You assure him, smiling softly. “...we’re friends, right?” You ask, a little bit cautious now.

He seems surprised, but nods eagerly. “Yes! Yes, we’re friends.” He says, reaching a hand out to awkwardly pat your shoulder, but it is a bit comforting. You relax. “Okay, cool.” You say. “Cool.” He mimics. “Coooool.” You say, leaning forward slightly and smiling up at him.

He giggles and tentatively pushes your face away. “No more cool.” He says, trying to sound firm, and you return his giggle.

“Sorry.” You apologize, straightening up. “I’m glad that you’re my friend.” You say. “You’re pretty cool.”

“I’m hardly cool.” He scoffs, but he’s smiling widely. “I’m glad you’re my friend, too.” He agrees.

After you lock up your classroom and the two of you start going back to the teacher’s lounge to take care of both of your mugs. You both work in relative silence, only speaking again once both of you have finished.

“I hope you don’t mind…” Wilbur says, breaking the silence and glancing over at you. “But is it okay if I could get your phone number or something? Just so we don’t have to only talk at lunch and during our prep periods.” He explains, running a hand through his messy curls.

You ignore the way you have instant butterflies in your stomach, nodding. “Yeah! Yeah, of course, here, let me get my information pulled up.” You agree, pulling out your phone and smiling giddily to yourself before handing your phone to him.

“Thank you.” He says, looking a bit flustered as he puts your contact in his phone, then hands your phone back. “Text me so I can save your number, too.” You instruct him, looking down at your phone expectantly. After a moment, a text comes in that simply says ‘hi :)’.

You smile and send back an enthusiastic ‘hi!!!’ before saving his number as “Mr Soot >:)”

He giggles when he gets your text, shutting his phone off and putting it in his pocket. The bell rings, and you both look at the door.

“Well…” WIlbur says. “I look forward to talking to you.” He says, awkwardly extending his arm for a fist bump. You smack your fist against his and then unfurl your fingers as you

pull your arm away, making an attempt at an exploding sound as you do so.

“Text me whenever you want.” You tell him with a soft smile as you look up into his eyes. He nods and stuffs his hands into his pockets, smiling back at you.

“Okay, I will. Thank you again.” He says. “You seem very nice, I’m glad that our rooms are so close.” He says, face tinged a bit pink.

“I’m glad, too.” You say.

You definitely don’t spend the rest of your evening at home waiting (im)patiently for him to text you, and you definitely don’t kick your feet and shove your face in a pillow when he finally does.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #wilbur soot fanfic

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