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pirateprincessblog · 6 months

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player 9

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: finally reuniting with your family after years of working abroad, your six year old nephew doesn't leave your side. he wants you to take him to school, he wants to do his homework with you, he wants to sit on your lap during meals, and he wants you to watch his football practice. how convenient that you're almost always alone on that stadium, and that his coach is just the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, whippedforhernephew'scoach!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: gagging, semi-public sex, oral (m!receiving), creampie, unprotected sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: is it soccer or football? football or rugby? either way, i'd let yunho demolish me in the locker room (or in the middle of the football field). :)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"it's called soccer, dumbass."

"no, it's called football, dumbass."

"you don't know what you're talking about." your brother rolls his eyes, then stuffs his mouth with the hotdog you had made for game night.

"there's a ball, and you kick it with your foot. what part of that seems to be the issue?"

"football is an entirely different sport-"

"oh give me a break-"

"god, it's like you both are sixteen again. is that just a natural thing? no matter how old you get you'll bicker like this all your life?" your mother complains, sipping her cucumber water and judging the calories on the table with a single eyebrow raise.

your brother's son, your nephew, laughs in your lap. you laugh with him, seeing the ketchup mess on his face and his sticky little fingers.

"and what are you laughing at, you little rascal? come here!"

the young man grabs the child from your lap, tickling the life out of him as a punishment for mocking his father. he playfully reaches towards you for help, and you do, tickling your own brother to make him stop.

"oh god, my white couch!"

"stop that, our daughter came back after many years apart and you care about the couch?" your father scolds his wife.

"it's not like that-"

"hush! is it 2:1? is it?! yes it is!" he jumps, spilling the beer all over the just mentioned couch.

"oh, heavens." her voice is light, and she looks like she is about to faint.

the four of you snicker, and silently cheer with another hot dog.

you forgot just how boring your town is. you do nothing but lay in your bed watching tv shows, walk to the local bakery, and drive your nephew to school. he is almost glued to you twenty four hours a day, and you don't mind. he is the squishiest thing ever, always listens to you, and helps you piss off your brother.

he doesn't have much of a mother figure in his life. your brother works a lot, and your parents are raising him. his mother died during birth, and even though they begged to save her and not the child, it was too late. your brother didn't want the baby at first. pushed it away, yelled at it, saying it took away his wife and his will to live. then, he started therapy. he started getting better, and started spending time with his child. your nephew has all the love he could possibly get, but your arrival changed him. he has become very attached to you; sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night just to sleep in your bed, making his kindergarten teacher call you mid playing just to tell you that he built a rocket out of clay, to only eating when he sits on your lap and you feed him.

much like this morning.

"auntie?" he mumbles between the waffle bites.

"yes, pumpkin?"

"will you watch me play soccer today?"

"it's football!" your brother calls from the living room. "you broke my kid."

"i didn't break him, i just passed him some of my IQ."

the man sticks his tongue out towards you, making his son giggle.

"don't you want grandpa to take you?" your father makes a disappointed face, teasing his grandchild.

"i want auntie to take me! and then you can meet my coach! and then you can see how cool our new jerseys are! we are only allowed to wear them at the stadium and not take them home because they are new. i really wanted to show it to you but coach wouldn't let me. he says i'd make it rip it as soon as i enter the house!"

"oh, how dare he!" you say, noticing your father's wink as a sign to support him.

"and sometimes he yells at me! but grandpa told me that he just means well, and that he only wants to teach me so i can be a great player like him! did you know that he is going to play the- the- oh no, what's it called again, grandpa?"

"the derby?"

"yes! that! he is going to play in a few weeks! he is so cool!"

he may not be able to feed himself, but instead of that, he can talk. all day long. and just sometimes, your ears become irritated. so you agree to drive him. you blast the music, muting his babbling from the back as he sits in his car seat. can anyone blame you? it's a two hour drive. you don't have the energy for it today.

you finally arrive, and after making sure you've locked your car and rolled the windows up, you finally let him lead you inside. you can barely keep up with him, he is too excited to see his friends. you see other women standing near the group of children, and you let go of your nephew's hand so you can greet them. after all, you'll be coming here quite often it seems.

"hi, just wanted to introduce myself."

"oh, the new stepmom?"

"what? no- i- what?" you're just as confused as them, and you look over to your nephew.

"oh, i'm so sorry! he keeps talking about his new mom and we just thought-"

his new mom? your confusion disappears when you see the little boy pointing his finger towards you, excitedly showing you off to his friends.

"no, no. i'm his aunt." you inform them.

before they get to say anything, the doors on the side of the stadium open, revealing a tall male wearing a jersey. you hear whispering behind you, maybe even a particularly long exhale, and you have to say that you agree with them.

the coach is stunning. he is drop dead gorgeous, and the more you look, the more self conscious you feel about your lazily picked outfit today. he is so tall and lean, his waist probably smaller than yours. his lips are plump and a pretty pink colour, and his hair a dirty blonde, almost a mullet. no wonder all the moms were dipped in makeup and dresses. you wore your brother's hoodie with his favorite football team logo on it, short leggings and zero makeup.

"hi, ladies." he greets, smiling at the group. he surely knows his impact.

his gaze stops on you, catching you red handed. you must've been staring at him weirdly, because he smiles wider your way, then finally lets the kids inside to change and get ready for the practice. all except...

"coach jeong! can my mom please come and watch me?"

"mom?" the coach is caught off guard, glancing your way.

"oh, no no, honey-" you try explaining. that man needs to know you're single.

"please?" the boy puts his palms together, and does his best puppy eyes to convince the man in front of him to let you in.

"well i- i guess. come in then." he holds the door open for you.

other women do not seem to take interest in going in and watching their children. instead, they greet the coach, then head over to the nearby café. your nephew tugs at your hand, smile so wide his eyes turn into half moons and he doesn't even see you.

"you little rascal." you scold him, ruffling his hair.

he runs off to the locker room, and you watch him drag the backpack that is almost bigger than him across the floor.

"well, this is an odd surprise. i didn't know he had a mother. not to be rude, of course."

"oh, i am not. i am his aunt." you finally explain.

"ah, so that's the case. i was wondering. you look so young."

he smells of freshly cut grass and a hint of manly sweat, mixed with some type of cologne. his face is clean shaven, giving you a chance to notice his sharp jawline as you walk together towards the football field.

"he is a gem, really. but, god, can he talk."

"i know. he got that one from me." you joke, knowing your nephew has outbursts of energy often.

yunho laughs, then opens another door for you. you finally step into the green field, nostrils immediately filling up with the pleasant smell of freshly mowed grass. you were never one for sports, but you gladly watched a game or two with your friends and now family. you wouldn't do it willingly on your own, you have more interesting things to do. but you don't hate it.

you also don't hate it when yunho places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the chairs where you've seen coaches and other member's of the team sit during matches. you thank heavens for the early winter sun and long sleeves, otherwise he would've seen the goosebumps from an innocent touch like that.

"have a seat. if they kick a ball in your direction, i'm sorry on their behalf."

"real comforting for my first live match, thanks."

the children run out on the field after changing, taking their positions on a white line in front of their coach. you study his moves, and needless to say, you find yourself squirming in the plastic chair quite soon. he is stern. he gives orders, guides them, and cares for them. you are turned on by something as simple as his yelling over the field. you never knew you could be so turned on by someone doing their job.

he starts the warmup, doing the squats and pushups with them. his arms aren't that big, but they are still muscular and decorated with bulging veins.

"coach, remember when you made us do pushups with your backpack on our back?" one of the older kids says.

"yeah, so? want another session?"

"no, no! i was just wondering if you could do the same." the rest of them start smirking, especially your nephew, and yunho scoffs.

"of course i can."

"but not with the backpack! with her on your back!" he points his little finger towards you, and you scoff.

"i don't think that's approp-"

"he can't do it," you accidentally interrupt, trying to save him.

he looks at you, one eyebrow cocked. you swear you could slip off the chair from the sudden rush of arousal.

"oh, really?" he asks, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"really." you decide to tease back, to see just how far it gets you.

"well why don't we try?"

he gets into the position, not even allowing you to decline. the team starts cheering, your nephew the loudest of them all.

"come on, now. sit on me."

you choke on your saliva. he smirks to himself, and you are ready to wipe it off. he likes teasing, doesn't he. little narcissist.

you walk over to him, purposely sitting on his back with force. but he holds, his wide back a comfortable seat. his arms start working his body. and your jaw drops at how easily he is doing the push ups with you on his back. the cheers get louder, seeing their coach effortlessly carry a person like that. he does a few more, just to show off, until you get off of him. your nephew runs over, hugging your leg and cheering for the handsome coach. yunho winks at you, then proceeds to train the boys.

your stops to the stadium become your new hobby. you sit on the same chair, watching the man teach the young ones, occasionally catching a glance or two from him, then arriving home and falling asleep mid day to the thoughts of his arms and voice. some days you fall asleep from simple thoughts, and some days you need a locked door and a buzzing device.

with each practice, he finds a way to somehow touch you. last time, he asked you to help him set up a new net on the goal frame. he couldn't "reach it", so he held you by your waist in the air while you secured it. if he can carry you around so easily, could he also carry you as he thrusts into you back in his office? or in the back of the-?

"guests! get up!" your mother knocks on the door, and you are quick to throw your gadget under your pillow, stopping the fantasies in your brain.

poor thing has been working non stop for the past few weeks, and still doesn't do a good enough job. sure, it gets you over the edge, but seeing yunho's slender fingers spin that ball so effortlessly when he is busy watching the kids play is just making it more complicated. not sure if on purpose, but lots of times he toys with the little hole on the ball that is there for inflating it. he circles it, slowly and carefully, eyes not leaving the green field. your eyes are locked on the ball and the middle finger rotating on the ball, mouth going dry as you almost feel that same finger circling your own hole.

"see? told you he's a gem." he interrupts your drooling one day.

"huh? oh, yes. absolutely." you catch a glimpse of your nephew celebrating victory.

you miss the way yunho bites his lip, hiding another smirk forming. he knows he has you wrapped around his finger, and he can almost smell the arousal off you. at first, he enjoyed teasing you for fun. but now? seeing that you've started showing up in short knitted winter dresses and knee high boots? it gets him going too. especially when you put those sunglasses on when you get in the car and help your nephew in his car seat, looking like a really hot young mom.

a mom he'd like to fuck all day every day in the back of the car after she drops her kids off at school.

"guests? who the hell is it?" you ask more yourself than your mother.

you throw on a sweater and the first pair of jeans you find, then check if you've put the vibrator away just in case a certain child decides to come in the room and snoop. it is securely locked in your drawer, along with a local newspaper cutout with yunho's figure on it, the jersey proudly stating his last name and his player number: nine. he looks dashing, so why not? you're not doing anything weird with it. just masturbating to it. no biggie. everyone does that.

it is a random wednesday and middle of the day. nobody familiar is coming to your mind when it comes to guests. but when you go downstairs and join your mother in the kitchen, you freeze. the big glass door to the patio is open, revealing the very coach you were just touching yourself to sitting on your favorite chair near the pool. your father hands him over a beer, like they do this every day.

"what is the coach doing here?"

"your brother invited him to wish him luck for the game next week." the woman simply explains, lining up the various cheese bites on toothpicks on the oval plate. "here, take this to your father while i grab a few more beers for them. for an athlete, you'd think he drinks less."

"mom!" you scold, in case he might have super hearing.

you carry the plate in one hand, while you use the other one to fix your hair. yunho is quick to notice you coming towards them, a smile forming on his lips as he examines you head to toe. you look cute in maroon and black, that oversized sweater hiding your waist from him. ever since he lifted you in the air that day to fix the net, he has been dreaming about holding that waist again. he wants to bite into it, leave purple marks all over it, kiss it and whatnot. you are just that addictive, and you didn't do anything but exist.

"hi, coach."

something about you calling him coach is setting his body on fire. it has the same effect on him as the word "daddy" or "sir" would have on someone else. he decides he enjoys hearing it from your lips. he hopes he'll get to hear it in a shape of a moan or gasp too.

"hi, my lovely assistant. did you know that your sister actually knows a thing or two about football?"

"soccer. and no, this dumbass right here?"

all three of you roll your eyes at his correction. yunho snickers, taking a sip of his beer.

"yes. she helps me set up the training ground and comes up with very interesting and actually beneficial stuff. the other day she even managed to score against our thirteen year old goalkeeper!"

you squint your eyes at the man, holding grudge for mocking you. he is half right, you did set up the training grounds for the kids. and you did score against the thirteen year old goalkeeper. go you!

"cheese?" you offer, stopping their little bullying session.

"why, thank you." he takes one, then continues his conversation about the upcoming game.

you run back to the kitchen, helping your mother with more drinks. you hear your nephew somewhere, and his quick and heavy footsteps.

"careful, i'm holding liquid!" you warn before he can bump into you.

you make your way towards the patio again, ready to secretly start flirting with his coach. you don't know how. you'll figure it out. only this time, he doesn't notice you coming, and stands up while still talking to your family. he doesn't hear you warn him over your nephew's loud and bad cover of the teenage mutant ninja turtles theme song, and walks straight into you, spilling the beverages all over his white t-shirt and your maroon sweater. you almost slip on the wet tiles, but his hands are quick to grab your waist and steady you. your body is pushed against his, soft breasts pressed against his own firm chest, your heart almost breaking through your ribcage and hitting his.

"shit, i'm so sorry." he finally lets go, then bends over to pick up the half empty cans of beer.

"oh, just leave it! i'll clean it up!" your voice is squeaky, hands still trembling from the interaction you just had.

his grasp is so firm, you want him to pick you up again just so you can feel that rush of lust one more time. the way his slender fingers pick up the pieces of glass from the floor shoots arrows to your core. a task so simple that it has you wondering if your brain is healthy for getting turned on by it.

"sweetie, will you go get coach yunho a new t-shirt so he can change? yunho, go with her, she will clean that up for you." your father offers, completely oblivious of your death glares.

the young man gladly accepts. he follows you quietly through the house, not yet speaking. you unlock your room, then let him in.

"ah, so this is what this door is? your nerdy little room. always wonder every time i come over."

you rummage through the pile of unironed clothes on the ironing desk in the corner of your room, trying to tell the difference from your brother's and father's plain white t-shirts.

"so you come here often?"

"not that often," he walks over to your nightstand, looking through the window above it, "they sometimes invite me for dinner or lunch as a thank you for training their grandson. say, why do you keep your room locked?"

you plug the iron into the socket, then wait for it to warm up as you turn to face him. his fingers are tracing the corner of the nightstand, somehow seductively.

"to keep my nephew from snooping." you laugh nervously, seeing how close his hand is to the forbidden drawer.

"right," he hums, nodding his head.

the iron makes a sound, notifying you that it is ready for use. you turn your back towards him, ironing the creases in the soft fabric. you hear him walk around the room, probably admiring your poor taste of room decorating when you were seventeen. you didn't manage to redecorate much, only bring in some things from your old home. like the very toy that is buzzing in his hand right now.

"interesting."

"god, give me that." your cheeks are flaming hot.

you hid today's pink pleasure, but forgot about the yesterday's one, also from an interrupted session. he holds the silver bullet vibrator in his hand, playing with the settings on it.

"give it back! it's dirty, how can you even touch it?"

"oh, so it's recently been to places? i don't know, looks pretty clean to me."

you reach for the shiny item, but he is quick to throw it in his other hand. he smiles, amused by your poor attempts at getting the gadget back.

"we can do this all day, or..." he points it towards you, like a magic wand, "you can show me the proper use of it."

your heart drops, and your stomach feels like a centipede is walking all over it. your mouth goes dry, and your eyes feel like they're going to jump out of the sockets.

"what?" you manage to say.

"show me how you use it." he simply says.

"you're crazy. here's your t-shirt." you grab it from the desk, avoiding eye contact with him.

you hear his wet one drop on the floor, and he reaches for the one in your hand. instead of grabbing the clothing item, he grabs your wrist, pulling your body into his bare one. you gasp, eyes looking up into his as his other hand snakes around your waist, vibrator still secure between his fingers.

"those jeans are driving me crazy." he admits in a whisper. "and looking at that bed, i can't stop imagining you using this on your dripping little cunt after coming back from my practice."

you hate that he is right, but you won't tell him that. ever.

"i have more attractive things to masturbate about." you whisper too, eyes dropping down on his pink lips.

"like what?"

"like that substitute coach from monday morning?"

"ah, so your little hole only clenches for song mingi? got it."

he lets go of you, throwing the vibrator on the bed. you gulp as you watch him wear the freshly ironed warm t-shirt, eyes running down to his v-line and defined abs. he is so damn hot.

"i should get back there. wouldn't want anyone to know how desperate you are for me." he winks.

"i'm not desperate!" you reach for a pillow, ready to aim it at that smirking face.

the next few days, you ask your father to take the boy to the practice. he is sad, but if you look at yunho one more time after a good training session, after his jersey starts sticking to his skin and reveals all his curves and hollows, after his sun kissed skin starts shining from sweat, and after his veins start bulging even more, you might drop on your knees at his feet and just take him in your mouth right there in the middle of the field. with nobody around, of course.

the derby is getting closer and closer, and you go to the practice one more time before it accompanying your father. you sit quietly as you watch him fidget in his usual spot. he doesn't yell today. he doesn't instruct. he doesn't do a warmup. he lets the kids play whatever they want, just shushing them when they start cussing and punishing them with burpees. he is nervous about the game, that you know.

"hey," you call after practice.

your father is busy helping his grandson change his footwear, while you busy yourself with comforting the coach.

"it'll be good. you'll win, i know it."

"our goalkeeper is kinda shit. he has been alcoholizing himself the past few days, too nervous about the derby. i'm afraid he is going to get some kind of poisoning, or that he'll show up drunk. or hung over. i don't care about the win at that point, our image will be destroyed."

you hum, looking over at the dark clouds approaching in the distance.

"get some sleep tonight. if you want, call me. i am known to put people to sleep with my talking."

he laughs, sincerely. nothing flirty this time. "will do, darling."

"i'll see you tomorrow then, coach. hopefully with a trophy in your hand."

the game went fabulously. they destroyed the other team, despite the goal keeper being a little hung over just how yunho predicted. they all cheer, your nephew is going crazy in the front row, and so are you. shiny confetti is flying everywhere, some of it landing on yunho's head. he is holding the trophy above his head, pure happiness on his face. he is cute.

the celebration continues in the decorated basketball hall, drinks and food already served and music already blasting. the audience is slowly leaving to join the team in proper celebration, and it takes almost half an hour for the place to properly empty before you can move. a few families stay behind, cleaning after everyone and collecting lost items to hand them over to the doorkeeper later. you and your mother stay to help, collecting all the confetti and food remains.

"miss! miss!"

you turn around, almost bumping into a woman. she holds a backpack in her hand, and hands it over to you.

"would you be a sugar and go give this to player nine in the locker room? their coach had to go and didn't have time to give this to him."

"but-"

"thank you so much! i've gotta run."

and indeed, she does run. your mother nudges you with her elbow, rushing you towards the stairs and to the entrance under the bleachers.

you do not know where you are going. the hallway is empty, and there are no signs on any doors. you almost reach the end, hopelessly dragging the heavy backpack with you. a door to a locker room is half opened, and you decide to knock. receiving no response, you carefully enter, the strong smell of body spray pinching your nose.

"coach?" you call.

he doesn't answer. you set the backpack on one of the benches, then make your way towards the other side of the room. a jersey is discarded on it, the number nine proudly facing up from the bench. you reach for it, feeling the fabric in your hand. he smells so good. not a strong scent, like the rest of them have. he is more of a soft vanilla mixed with slight sandalwood. you bury your nose in the fabric, surprised that even after sweating so much after the game, the jersey isn't smelly and wet.

two hands creep onto your waist, startling you and making you jump.

"i snooped through your things, so now you have to snoop through mine?" he teases.

you feel his naked wet chest press against your thin blouse, and a slight bulge in the back of your pants. he turns you around swiftly, allowing you to take a good look at him. he is fresh out of the shower, smelling absolutely heavenly. his hair is not yet dry, waterbeads sliding down his neck and collarbones and disappearing down his v-line into the towel he has so carefully wrapped around him. it hangs low on his hips, probably on purpose.

"aren't you going to congratulate me?"

"congratulations?"

"i was thinking about a different kind of congratulations. something like..." his finger pulls at the belt hoop of your pants, then lets it snap against your skin, "this."

"you have to play another match to get to that point," you tease.

"do i now?"

truth is, you wish for nothing more than to get down on your knees and have him twitch in your mouth. you so desperately need it. so you let your hand reach for his towel, easily undoing it and letting it fall on the floor. you don't look down just yet, eyes locked with his. yunho finally grabs your face by your jaw, pulling you in for a hot kiss. his tongue is quick to find yours, circling it and rubbing it all the right ways. your blouse doesn't get unbuttoned. ripping it open seems faster to yunho, firm hands shredding the fabric and letting buttons fly to the floor. you gasp at the action, and he is quick to place his hands on your breasts. you're thankful for wearing a decent bra today, not one of those you had as a teen.

"i'll have to see you wearing my jersey and bouncing on my cock one day after practice. think you could do that?"

"i think i very much could," you say, excitement running in your veins.

yunho sits on the bench, trying to pull you into his lap. you stop him, dropping down on your knees. a proper congratulations.

you take a moment to admire his length. he isn't thick, but he is very long. he feels hot under your fingers, eager to be taken cared of. your tongue gets a first taste of him, and soon after, you're struggling to take him in. he is too big for you, but the pleasure is too good for him to back away. he grabs your hair, pushing your head down to make you swallow as much of him as you can.

"yunho?"

you freeze around his cock, eyes going wide. you are hidden by a row of lockers, but only a few steps in and the whole situation would be visible to the poor intruder.

"keep going," yunho mumbles, caressing your cheek.

you slowly start swallowing him again, working your tongue around him.

"yes?" he says, masking his pleasure well.

"everyone is waiting for you, man. they already finished off that fruit tart you were waiting for!"

"let me just take a quick shower and i'll be right there."

"if you say so."

the door shuts, and yunho spares no time in ramming his cock into your mouth a few more times before pulling you off and picking you up. he slams you against the lockers, hands firm on your thighs. he manages to take off your pants, not bothering with the panties. he only pushes them aside, and not even bothering to stretch you out beforehand, carefully inserts his hot muscle inside of you. it is no use biting your hand down to hide the noises, his pace continiously ramming into the soft spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back.

"you'll have to be a bit more quiet, baby." he says, voice low and raspy.

you look at him, your body completely relaxed in his hands as you take every pump he has to offer. yunho looks at you as if he is trying to hypnotize you, with eyes so focused on your face, examining every single reaction you have to his moves.

"we wouldn't want anyone to interrupt again, would we?"

you shake your head, unable to speak. you can only moan, louder and louder, as your fingers desperately tug on his still damp hair. having had enough of your loud noises, yunho carries you to the bench, cock still buried deep inside of you. he lays you on the bench, then reaches over your head to grab something.

"open up for me," he instructs.

you do, and he gently places his jersey between your lips so it muffles your moans.

"good girl," he praises, then continues his moves.

the fabric in your mouth proves itself useful, successfully muffling the noises you make. not long after, you feel the pleasure building up in the bottom of your stomach.

"fuck, you're clenching so much, i'm going to cum soon," he hisses, hands desperately gripping your waist.

you look at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would take the message and make you cum too. he recognizes it, and brings his hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers. he then places them on your clit, rubbing the tense bud in ways that have your back arching from the bench, mentally begging him for release already.

"fuck-" he groans, speeding up.

you bite down on the fabric, focusing on reaching the sweet release, clenching your walls to help him reach his too. he moans, for the first time, throwing his head back as he fucks his seed into you, filling you up until you can't take it anymore and let it spill on the bench. the new warm sensation inside of you triggers your own orgasm, your hands reaching for his as you twitch, orgasm washing over your body in multiple ways.

yunho holds your hands above your head, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbones and neck, calming you as you get down from the high. it takes you a while to come back to your senses, feeling yunho's hair tickling your bare skin as he still peppers your skin with kisses.

he laughs fondly, seeing what a mess he made out of you. removing the jersey from your mouth, he wastes no time in kissing you properly, this time a bit softer than before.

you pull away, the cold air from the air conditioner finally hitting your bare skin and sweat, making you shiver.

"so..." you breathe out.

"so..." he repeats.

"when is your next match again?"

feedback greatly appreciated! 💕

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

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Bro when they remade the game of re4, Leon made me want to just....do anything for him. He's just- so- AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.....You know? And thinking of him as a yandere made me giggle and kicking my feet

part 2. part 3. part 4.

tw :: yandere!leon, obsessive!leon, alcohol, kidnapping, drugging blood, being chained up, insinuations of suicide.

⸺ ommgggg !!! i've been playing the game bit by bit in my free time and im actively going batshit over this man. so here are some of my thoughts……………….

you met leon during the events of RE2 in raccoon city. you ever heard of scary dog privilege? that was basically him with you the entire night. your personal bodyguard, your guard dog. he saved your life over and over and over again until you both practically lost count. however, once you both survived the night and the sun arose, you went your separate ways (much to his dismay). law enforcement and the government were attempting to track down survivors, due to their theories of them having links with umbrella. you had absolutely nothing to do with it, obvi. so, to avoid it all, you vanished. and for 6 long, insufferable years, leon has lived without you. countless therapy sessions, solace in alcohol, and numerous partners who didn’t last longer than a month, nothing could make him forget you.

now (knowing your luck), you just so happen to be one of the missing hikers the police officers speak of in the very beginning of RE4. you were taking a daily stroll through the woods to meditate before you were kidnapped and brought into the los iluminados cult. fortunately for you, you managed to evade being infected. however, you have still spent the last week in sheer misery. running from the village-folk, dodging hidden bear-traps, and scavenging for any crumbs you could consume. you can only dream of the shower you'd take after this nightmare, where you can scrub your skin of the grime, blood, and god knows whatever substances have stained your form. you did befriend a lone wolf, however, so that's a plus!

leon just so happens to be in the same area you're in, only with intentions of saving the president's daughter. he had hoped that by becoming a secret agent, he would be able to manipulate the provided resources and find you. before he knows it, leon soon wakes with a gasp, finding his hands above his head and his wrists chained together. he yanks the chain down, only to hear a quiet voice whisper "hey, quit it!" that voice. leon springs to his feet and turns to verify his suspicions, the sudden movement behind you scaring you into doing the same. he gasps your name in disbelief, before he falls into awed silence while staring at you in complete captivation. you have no fucking idea how much he missed you. all these years of searching for you, dread satiated through him at the possibility of you being dead. leon knows in his heart he would not have the strength to live if you had truly been gone forever. but now, there are no worries. the light of his entire life is alive and by his side! exactly where they belong.

on your end, however, was a complete different story. that night 6 years ago was now an entire blur. umbrella had managed to hunt you down mere days after the event, drugging you with a variety of different remedies. their efforts succeeded and had caused you to almost completely forget that night. your brain has only been able to scrutinize the blood, the death, and the groaning and screaming of undead figures around you. weekly visits with your therapist are helping you disinter forgotten pieces, but leon wasn't present in any of these newfound memories. so, when this stranger whispers your name into the air and stares at you as if you had just descended from heaven itself, you aren’t able to connect the dots.

a smile, one that could rival the sun, breaks out on the face of the mysterious blonde. tears brim in his honeyed gaze. "oh, god. you have no fucking idea how happy i am to finally see you!” holding his hands out, he takes several long strides towards you to engulf you, to where you take several steps away from him.

"who the fuck are you?" his world shatters, "how do you know me? are you the one behind this shit?" your eyes are full of confusion and uncertainty. a major contrast to the look of heroism and gratitude you gazed at him with ages ago.

without another breath, leon pulls the chain towards him, causing you to spring forward. your wrists are tied above your head and your feet are practically dangling off the floor. there are now mere inches in between you and this man. and the look of sheer horror on his face is unforgettable.

"look at me…” his eyes feel like bullets stinging into you, tears spilling down his cheeks. “it- it's me, angel! it’s leon! leon scott kennedy, i worked in the RPD that night 6 years ago.” his breath hits your face as he desperately recounts the worst night of your life. “y/n, i saved your life. and you saved mine. don't you remember?"

leon’s hand cups your face, skin hovering over yours, almost as if he were afraid to fully touch you. his face scrunches up from the sobs racking through his body.

“don’t you know how much i still love you?”

you finally have the revelation that whoever this 'leon scott kennedy' is was with you that night in raccoon city. you also conclude that you are most definitely not getting away from him so easily.

n e ways.... i went wayyyy to overboard with this, but like i said, i've been having some THOUGHTS about re4 and our golden boy. also some other characters too, hehe…………

if you'd like to see more, pls don't be afraid to send some asks in !!

#*sighs dreamily again*#resident evil 4 #re4 #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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lialacleaf · 9 months

Text

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 4

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

You were beginning to feel like Simon was hiding something. When he went out on missions he was insistent that you didn’t contact him. At all.

You never once wondered if there was another woman involved, Simon was too good to you for it to be that.

He was just so closed off when it came to the topic of work, and you weren’t sure why. Maybe he was battling PTSD, and trying not to let it color your relationship.

It had been six months since you had married Simon, two of which he’d spent deployed somewhere. Your parents had asked if you were coming home for the holidays, and you told them you would be working.

They still believed you had a job. In a way you did. When Simon wasn’t home you did light house chores, now that Dr. Radcliffe had cleared you for more movement.

Your leg was still weak, and running was out of the question. You’d begged Simon to let you get a dog but he’d bit his lip, given you a pained look, and explained that it wasn’t fair to the animal if you couldn’t care for it properly.

You’d nodded in agreement but it had hurt all the same. You were lonely when he was gone.

“So what are we doing for the holidays?” You asked as Simon washed the dinner dishes and handed them to you to be put away.

He shrugged as he scrubbed pasta sauce off one of the plates. “Haven’t celebrated in a while,” he admitted, handing you the next clean dish.

“Do you ever visit your family?” You asked.

“Have you ever been to Cambridge?” He went about scrubbing the cup your tea was in.

“I’ve never been to the UK, just the parts of Europe the 141 has taken me. Is that where you’re from?” You asked in excitement.

“No, I grew up in Manchester,” he said, passing you the cup.

“Is your family in Cambridge now?” You asked, feeling as if the conversation had gotten slightly off topic.

“No.”

You blinked in confusion. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to spend the holidays in Manchester with your family?”

“It doesn’t have to be Cambridge, London is nice too,” he added, drying his hands on the spare dish towel. “We’ve got a few weeks to decide anyhow.” He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

You gaped slightly, blinking in confusion. What just happened? Had he really just swept your questions about his family under the rug with the distraction of a holiday vacation?

Maybe it was only fair. You’d made no effort to introduce Simon to your parents, but that was different. You were a daughter, not a son. If your parents found out their little baby girl had been injured, and married off to some strange man, your father would blow a fuse.

You knew very little about Simon though. The only thing you knew about him was his strange relationship with Ghost. Why was someone as sweet as Simon even mates with someone like Ghost?

Simon had started taking you into town once a week. He didn’t like to keep you cooped up, and Dr. Radcliffe had warned him you’d end up in trauma therapy if he kept you isolated during recovery.

Simon was relieved you didn’t display much interest in going to the mall. You were perfectly happy to go to the park and pet dogs, or go to the bookstore for hours on end.

You were begging to accumulate a small library, and sooner or later he’d need to build you a bookshelf.

“Out for the weekly book haul I see,” Jesse, the store owner said as you approached her counter, most of your books in Simon’s arms. You grinned at her as she scanned your latest finds. “You’re practically keeping me in business at this point.”

You shrugged and gave Jesse a bright smile. “You had new stuff in the gardening section, thought it might be helpful for the herbs we just planted,” you said, flashing Simon a grin.

He didn’t give you much of a reaction, but that was normal when he was in public. He wasn’t exactly fond of strangers, but he tolerated Jesse for the free cups of tea she bestowed on the two of you when you sat down to read in her cafe.

She’d never asked for the details of your relationship with Simon, but she always chuckled softly when he handed over his debit card without so much as a grumble for your somewhat expensive taste in books. A man that supported his partner's love of books was a good man in her opinion.

Jesse placed your books in a bag and handed them to Simon with a smile, unbothered by his flat expression and aversion to talking more than what was necessary.

“Have you decided where you want to go for Christmas yet?” He asked as he helped you load into his truck.

“Maybe we should stay home this year. I was just thinking it’d be harder to travel with my leg, and you already don’t like crowds, I can’t imagine how busy London must be this time of year…” you trailed off as Simon buckled into the driver’s seat. “But I would like to put up a tree!” You added.

Simon raised a brow at you as if he were amused by your declaration. “A tree?”

“Yeah! A Christmas tree! And we could have some of your teammates over-“

“They’ll be with their families,” he stated quickly.

Your smile fell. Oh. Right. “Maybe just the Captain then?”

Simon bit his lip but nodded. Price was aware of the situation, and the least likely to spill the beans. He supposed inviting his Captain over for a holiday meal would be alright.

“Speaking of family,” you began carefully, “Can we stop by the post office next week? I’d like to ship my parents' Christmas presents,” you requested softly.

Simon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Would you like to see your family?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“No, I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“You haven’t told them.” It wasn’t a question. He’d heard your phone calls with them. They still thought you were working for Price.

“It’s…it’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. It’s just that I don’t want them to worry, and I know that they will.” Simon nodded, grasping your hand gently in his. “I’ll figure something out…eventually.”

“I have to go for a mission next week, but I’ll be back before Thanksgiving. We can put up the tree when I get back. I’ll…leave the truck with you, you can make it to town on your own?” He asked.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to even offer, but now that you thought about it, it was a little ridiculous to expect you to stay put while he was gone. It was your left leg that was injured after all, you could still drive.

“Yeah, I know the way. Thanks, Simon,” you said, offering him a brilliant smile.

“Just be careful,” he reminded you. He’d leave a pistol with you just in case. The holidays were always more dangerous. He was starting to regret not getting you that dog. He would have to look into putting up a fence, but that was a long term project that he’d need a longer break from work to accomplish. Like hell he was gonna pay some stranger to come out to his home where his wife was to do the job.

Once the truck was parked and your books were unloaded, Simon went about doing his chores while you made lunch. At some point you heard the buzz of his saw outside. He seemed to always have some sort of project going.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the other night as you went about piling chicken salad on two croissants. Why was he so closed off concerning his family?

You eyed you bedroom door, wondering if you should just leave it alone, or put your detective skills to work.

You left your plates on the counter as you slipped into your bedroom. Simon didn’t keep many personal items, therefore your nightstand was always a little more cluttered than his between your laptop, medications, and other odds and ends.

You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for. All you really knew about Simon was his name and that he’d grown up in Manchester. Your search would likely yield little result.

At least that was what you thought until you were starting at a death record. A death record for Simon Riley, bearing the same date of birth and identification information that was on your marriage certificate.

“Y/n?” You jumped, your head shooting up to see Simon in his sweaty work clothes standing in the doorway. “Gonna hop through the shower before lunch…everything alright?” He asked, noticing how pale you’d gone.

“I…um, yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You sputtered, closing your laptop screen. “I’ll go finish lunch,” you said, limping back into the kitchen.

Simon watched you, his head cocked to the side, before he shrugged, and stripped down to get a shower.

You tried to ignore the knots forming in your gut. Simon Riley was dead, and you had no unearthly clue who this man was. Did Ghost know? Had he unwittingly sent you right into the arms of someone dangerous, or was Ghost well aware of who Simon really was?

Your hands shook as you went about finishing the lunch preparations, and you quietly set the table, hyper aware of the other person in the house.

Simon was still in the shower, you had time to go back for your laptop. You quickly made your way into the bedroom, lifting the screen as you sat on the bed.

Your eyes scanned over the obituary with concern. Simon Riley…served in the royal army…died in a fire…no body…wait…no body?

You scrolled down a bit until you got to the photo at the bottom of the page. It was your Simon. You felt your throat tighten.

Why was your Simon supposedly dead? It made no sense. The man in the picture, albeit a little older, was currently showering in the bathroom.

You scanned through the rest of the obituary, noticing the mention of his family. Each name was highlighted, and you risked clicking on the name of the previous Mrs. Riley.

You felt like you were going to hurl when you were greeted with an even more morbid obituary. His entire family was gone. Murdered. Stolen right out from under him. It suddenly made sense. His overprotective nature was simply a trauma response. It still didn’t explain the falsified death certificate, but it was a start.

It wasn’t until you were staring into the photographed eyes of Tommy Riley that it clicked.

Tommy had brown eyes, practically identical to Simon’s. There was one other person you knew of with those eyes. One other person who’s voice sounded so similar to Simon’s, even if it was a little rougher.

Was Tommy…Ghost?

AN: OOOOOH Ya'll excited? We get spicy next chapter...

Tag List:

@warenai @livynicole @ghostlythots @hilowhiho @mrmountainman @miamia89 @shiraya92 @crocodilefeet2707

@zzariyahchan @gaida-511 @misshoneypaper @soldierlass @dazaiscum @mockerycrow @kaysav608 @classygardencroissantcolor @innerskylover @kristalhi @hotaruteba @tzutology @sushiumex @l3xiluve @immajustlikeok

@iplayghoul @linoskitten11 @zollaris @whore-for-anime @migeuloharaslxt @blog-luvdance @embermdk @buttercupmuffins

@corpsebridenightamare @15382663884 @discowizard88 @strawberryjambrrread @lieblinqs

@waves-against-a-cliff @saturnknows @elliesbabygirl @vynz0ne @teapartydreams @thesinsoflust @vantedaes @berryjuicyy @lovergyal @01trickster10 @coolcatyarb @nirvanaaaonly @innerskylover @thriving-n-jiving @whoisjazy @yeoldedumbslut @vinithechocolatevampire @starlettemoony @die-prophetin @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @emily-roberts @mokyoenthusiast

@betelrus @shiftedvoid @beebeechaos @bitchoftoji @katbug37

@thatgirlboss1 @homeofthe-80s-90s-andnow

@illyanam1011 @hrchyysnz @chxosangxl @animarix @happy-mushrooms @pearlm00n @cathnoneofyourbusiness @ray-rook

@novausstuff @copiasratscheese @i-feel-violated @itsagrimm

#simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

Text

Headcanons for Hotchner!daughter Service Dog

No one asked for it but here we are.

Inspired by the headcanons done by @ssa-thotchnerr on hotchner!reader emotional support dog

As someone who is a service dog handler, this topic is near and dear to my heart, especially service dogs who do psychiatric work. It's also important to me to address the differences between an ESA (emotional support animal) and PSD (psychiatric service dog) as they are two seprate things.

If you have questions about ESAs or Service Dogs send me an ask or a message! It's something I love to talk about and educate on!

Here we go:

CW: Foyet, Haley's death, counseling, medication, PTSD, PTSD symptoms, meanings to names

The whole thing with Foyet was traumatic. Being pulled away from your dad, being in witness protection, being told your dad was dead only to find out that he wasn't, your mom being killed- it was all too much.

Hotch was very proactive about getting you and Jack into counseling. Jack recovered from the events far faster and easier than you did.

After evaluation from a psychologist, they concluded you had severe PTSD.

You were talking to a therapist multiple times a week, taking medication, being open with your dad, even peer support groups, but after a year you still struggled immensely.

Panic attacks, nightmares, hypervigilance, depressive episodes, and avoidance still ruled your life.

Your medical team brought forward the idea of a service dog as an addition to the rest of your treatment.

You and your dad looked into it and decided it would be a good idea.

Until you looked at the price of training or getting a program dog and it was going to be upwards of $15,000 (really closer to $25,000) or at least two years on a non-profit waitlist. Some options were both.

Thank god for the "anonymous donation" from Uncle Dave.

You and your dad met with the program. They had you meet a few different dogs that were ready for task training, but ultimately you were matched with a solid black female german shepherd.

"She's from our outer space themed litter. Her name is Comet, after Halley's Comet."

That had you and your dad in tears.

It would still be months before she would complete her task training, but you got to see her when you went to do handler training.

She finally finished her training with the program and got to come home to complete it with you!

At first, having Comet almost made things worse.

People would point and stare, little kids would scream, rude people saying things like "you don't look disabled", "I thought only veterans could have PTSD", access issues, even some of your friends who didn't want to bring you along on activities anymore since you'd have Comet with you.

But it forced you to be a bit brave and learn to stand up for yourself and her.

And her tasks made your life so much better and gave you so much more independence.

Comet would "search" the apartment for strangers before you entered, so you could come home alone without Hotch or Jessica having to be there.

If you were home alone, she would bark when someone came into the apartment and go check to see who it was. If it was someone she knew, she would stop barking and come back to you, but if it was a stranger she would continue barking so you could call your dad and ask who was supposed to be coming to the apartment.

When you had nightmares, she would wake you up before they got really bad. This improved the sleep quality of everyone in your family.

Comet would alert you before you had a panic attack so she could perform deep pressure therapy and you could use your coping skills to try to make it less intense.

If your panic attack did get intense, she would do a "take down" to put as much pressure on your body as possible and gently lick you until you calmed down.

In the after-fatuige of an attack she would take you to a quiet place to recover and continue to provide pressure therapy.

If it happened when your dad was home she would get him to help you through it.

She would annoy you at certain times of the day to remind you to take your medications, sometimes even fetching the bottles for you.

When you would cry alone she would just starting bringing you anything she could find - water bottles, papers, pillows, dirty laundry (usually bras because it made you laugh) - so you didn't have to be alone with your feelings.

She would stand behind you and alert to people approaching so you didn't get startled.

Sometimes would provide "checks" around corners if you were having a really bad day with hypervigilance.

Having Comet opened up an entire new world for you, making you feel safe without having to have your dad or your aunt with you.

She wasn't a replacement for your therapy or medication, and the public could still be extremely rude. Sometimes you did leave her at home if you were going somewhere that it would be hard to accommodate her and you had your dad to help you incase anything happened.

But she gave you independence that you didn't have before and made your life so much better.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x child!reader #hotch x daughter!reader #hotch x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 5 months

Text

The Hope in the Fault Lines | Part 4

The final part....THIS HAS BEEN SO FUN. It's been a labor of love for sure, so I hope you read it and love it and reblog it and all the good things. I don’t have enough requests to have a tag list or anything so I’m relying on faith and prayers to get this in front of the ppl who liked the previous parts, so PLEASE REBLOG THIS 🥺 I’ll love you forever fr. Here are links to part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you haven't read them already! Warnings: references to child abuse (mentions of a father giving a daughter a black eye and references to a belt being used), reference to a past child custody battle, sexism, forced contact by abusive parents, drinking, grief, ptsd, some angst but just for a little, vanilla sex, oral (f receiving), I tried to leave a lot to the imagination because this was my first time writing any kind of smut, but still minors don't read or interact with it, police investigation. lmk if there's anything else! Word count: 13k (I AM SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY.)

Eleven months later

Time was funny.

Together, you, Sara, and Mingyu had watched the summer fade into a hazy autumn, where the leaves faded into gold and red and orange and then fell, leaving bare branches clawing at the sky with skinny fingers. The winter had been a long one — Christmas was nearly unbearable without Jeri and Jisung to keep you company. But spring prevailed, as it always did, and now you watched as the latest of the April blossoms popped through the surface of the earth.

It’s been almost a whole year since the accident. At the outset, your grief had been like a massive wall. It was hard to see around it, and pushing against it was useless. Now, the grief was still there, but had transformed into something more akin to a stray dog that followed you around. It was always present, but you could still move with it, and it wasn’t always unwelcome. The pain of loss had been tempered by the stretch of time, the therapy sessions faithfully attended every Tuesday morning, and the love that had grown between you and Sara.

At a year and a half, she toddled around clumsily still, but could run and jump and talk. She was extremely independent and energetic, and sometimes when she was displeased the look on her face was so reminiscent of Jeri that it made you pause. However, where before that would’ve made you cry, today it fills you with comfort. You also, surprisingly, saw yourself in her — she was adventurous and tenacious, and didn’t like to be told she couldn’t do something. But she was also sweet, cooing over even the beetles in the grass or the spiders in the corner. The force of your love for her was both surprising and strong, because when she’d first come into your life, you had felt uncertain you’d ever get the hang of being a parent. Now, you could hardly imagine life without her. She made each day full of an infinite meaning — everything you did now was for her.

And then, there was Mingyu. The relationship between you was sweet and easy and didn’t demand anything more from you than you could handle. You had learned early on how kind Mingyu was and how easy it was to talk to him, but you had come to know him even better over the time since your illness, and you had become endeared by his pouty expression when you teased him, the clumsiness you suspected was a result of becoming very big very fast and still not knowing his own strength, and the comforting timbre of his voice, as well as so much more. Mingyu made you feel like you never had to do anything by yourself, with a talent for drawing the vulnerability out of you when you were keeping yourself from being helped. And even though he was positive and upbeat most of the time, he never expected that from you. His grace in handling your down days was enough to convince you that in any other circumstance, this man would have been your perfect match, inside and out.

But the circumstances are what they are, and so you can’t let yourself give in to what you want. It has been a long time since Mingyu has held you — since the nightmare, in fact. Which, you remind yourself forcefully, is a good thing. It was professional of you to keep that physical distance. Because, Heaven help you, you were struggling to keep any emotional distance between you.

When Mingyu had come back to work after he’d stayed the night at your place that one fateful night, a pattern had begun. When you’d come home, Mingyu asked you about your day. You’d give him the low-down: “Emily dropped the pencil sharpener and thought I’d fire her…am I that scary?”, “we got a story with Brie Larsen,” “one of our writers is getting married in a few weeks and invited me”, and so on. Then you’d ask for his updates: “Sara ate a solid banana today,” “Bora and Morrie came over for a play date”, “I lost Sara for fifteen minutes today and found her in the massive drum of flour”. This usually kicked off an hours-long conversation full of teasing, laughter, and the occasional philosophical discussion that only ended when one of you mentioned Mingyu should go home and get some rest. The past eleven months of this behavior had only made you more and more drawn to Mingyu; it was how you learned he learned to cook from helping his mother in the kitchen, and that he also had a little sister whom he loved dearly, and about the friends from college he still saw frequently, all of whom he seemed to only have positive feelings for. You had started to wonder if there was a person he didn’t like. And all of this added up to you being absolutely smitten with him.

But you also keenly felt the guilt of having a crush on your nanny. After all, it felt like such a midlife-crisis move to pull. You tried to comfort yourself in the truth that Mingyu was usually the instigator whenever the both of you rocketed over those carefully drawn lines in the proverbial sand, but you knew it was also partially your responsibility, because you never talked to him about maintaining a more professional distance. The fact was, you didn’t want any more distance at all between you and Mingyu, but you understood how complicated it might be if someone who essentially made sure he could pay his bills confessed romantic feelings for him. Not that you’d ever take advantage of him, but it also felt unfair to put him in a situation where he had to trust you on that.

So you stayed as you were — for eleven months that had proven to put you through every emotion on the spectrum. You laughed at Mingyu, you competed against Mingyu, you wondered about Mingyu, you worried about Mingyu.

But most of all, you yearned for Mingyu.

You try not to let it show as you watch Sara play with her dolls in the living room, supplemented by the dollhouse Mingyu spent a whole day building for her. “Tomorrow’s the big day!” he says. “Are you excited?”

“I am,” you hedge, half-listening as Sara clumsily tucks a doll into its bed and says goodnight. “A little nervous, too.”

“Why are you nervous?” he asks. “You’ve practiced a lot. I almost have your speech memorized by now.”

You laugh. “It’s normal to be nervous, even when you’re prepared.”

He watches you carefully, noting how after a few moments of silence your eyes slip out of focus, miles away. After eleven months, Mingyu has learned that when you get like this, you are reliving a vivid memory inside your mind. The more this happens, the worse your dreams are later. So, after catching Sara before she whacks her head on the coffee table, he puts his hand on your knee so your mind connects to your body again. “Where were you this time?” he asks, releasing a squirming Sara to the floor, his gaze between you and her.

“My sister pep talking me before my valedictorian speech,” you say in a tiny voice.

“I didn’t know you were valedictorian!” Mingyu exclaims. “You were a huge nerd, weren’t you?”

“I still am,” you say, pretending to be scandalized. “Why do you think my magazine won an award for publishing? It certainly wasn’t because academic validation isn’t important to me.”

He laughs. “Your magazine won an award for publishing because it’s awesome. But I appreciate that you’re still trying to achieve academically even though you’re almost three years post-MBA.”

“I know when I’m being made fun of,” you sniff. “And I won’t have this from you, Mr. ‘I Flunked Out of Chemistry But They Still Let Me Play Basketball’ Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu shoots you a reluctant grin. “I never should’ve told you that, first of all,” he says. “Secondly, despite all that, I think you would’ve liked me in high school.”

“I probably would’ve,” you admit. “You, however, would never have even looked at me in high school,” you say. “I had glasses, braces, the whole nine yards.”

He stretches, laughing. “I was into nerds, actually. Still am, in fact.” He smiles to himself, on cue with your heart turning all the way over in your chest.

You’re in dangerous territory, so you steer away. “Have you been practicing your ponytails?” you say seriously.

“Who do you think I am? Of course I have.”

“And you’re still not gonna show me what her hair looks like until the day of?”

“Of course not. It’s bad luck.”

You scoff. “I’m almost positive nobody thinks that.”

“I’m pretty sure I think that,” he counters.

“And I don’t even get to see her dress?” you ask.

“Not unless I get to see yours.”

You grin — this had been a constant “argument” since you’d come home with the dress bag, and you had denied his request to look at it. “What if I hate her dress?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “It’s impossible. She’s the cutest little girl in the world. So even if the dress sucks, she’s gonna look darling in it.”

“You make a good point,” you admit. “The dress doesn’t suck though, right?”

“You have so little faith in my taste,” Mingyu says, frowning. Then he lights up again and abruptly changes the subject. “Also, get this — Wonwoo says he’s gonna come and he’ll bring a girl.”

“Oh?” you say, lifting Sara off the ground as she reaches for one of the spark plugs in the wall. “Is it the same girl he brought home a couple weeks ago?” You’d become friends with Mingyu’s bespectacled, tech-savvy roommate due to occasional contact over the past almost-year, and the thought of him with a girl is sweet.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “But here’s the thing. He insisted — emphatically — that nothing was going on between them. They were just friends.”

“How long ago?”

“Like two weeks.”

“Maybe for one of them that’s true,” you suggest. “I mean, maybe he doesn’t like her like that.”

“No, he definitely does.”

“Okay, well, maybe she doesn’t like him like that.”

“Have you seen him?”

You laugh. “Have you seen yourself? I mean, if she hangs out at your place pretty often there’s really no reason she couldn’t like you too.”

Mingyu blushes, an uncharacteristically bashful move on his part, and you realize how much you’ve just given away. So you, blushing too, move over to Sara, beginning to play with her hands and let her grab at your necklace. “I should probably go,” Mingyu says. “Gotta be here early tomorrow to make sure you don’t sleep through your alarm again.”

“I only did that one time,” you protest. “And I don’t think I’ll sleep at all tonight.”

He makes a sympathetic noise. “Well, at least try, will you? It’s a big day for you, and you should be able to enjoy it.”

You smile up at him. “You’re right. Thank you, Mingyu. Say bye bye to Mingyu, Sara.”

“Bye, Googoo!!” Sara squeals — her endearing nickname for Mingyu.

She bounds over to him, and he sweeps her into his arms for a swift hug before setting her down gently. “Bye, Sara!”

***

“Wow,” Mingyu says, his eyes wide and mouth open.

You tug at the tight, silvery-blue fabric of the floor-length gown you wear, blushing. “Thanks.”

“You’re always pretty,” Mingyu begins, finally recovering from the shock of seeing you like this enough to speak.

“Oh, stop it,” you protest, hiding your face in your hands.

“But this is … wow,” he finishes.

Your face could not be warmer. “Please desist before I’m so embarrassed that I have to change.” You peek from behind your fingers at Mingyu, who is looking positively devastating in a suit and is holding Sara in her fluffy pink dress. He was right about her looking cute in anything, but the dress suits your sweet, sassy, rambunctious little girl. And, true to his word, he has tugged her hair into two adorable pigtails fitted with feathery pink bows to match the dress. “You did an amazing job with Sara.”

Mingyu finally tears his eyes away from you to look proudly at Sara’s outfit. “Never doubt me again,” he jokes.

“I never will,” you vow.

“Well, I think we need to leave,” Mingyu says. “I wonder what everyone will think about me arriving with the two prettiest girls at the party.”

You roll your eyes as you grab your things. “You’ll fit right in,” you tell him. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” he says, wrestling a grumpy Sara into her car seat. “Shall we?”

The party is a fancy affair. Big names in publishing mill around with your employees, some turning to greet you and offer words of congratulations when you walk in. Mingyu is impressed with how gracious and genuine you are with everyone, even the people you’re just being introduced to, his heart swelling with pride whenever you include him and Sara as a part of your introduction.

Sara is amazed at the surroundings, looking around the beautifully furnished hotel meeting room with its twinkling lights in an overstimulated stupor. Plenty of the female employees are talking and whispering at the sight of her in Mingyu’s arms, a few even venturing to approach him and play with Sara’s hands or feet. “So, are you her boyfriend?” A blonde in a stunning red dress asks, leaning in with hooded eyes.

“No, I’m just her nanny,” Mingyu says with a laugh. “Um, excuse me.”

You have to bite back a smile as Mingyu meets eyes with you nervously. “Meredith from accounting is zeroed in on you, I see,” you tease him.

“She’s very friendly,” Mingyu agrees. “I think I saw Wonwoo come in, though.”

You look toward the door. There he is — tall, slender, with his signature glasses and a shy but very happy smile, hand-in-hand with a pretty girl in a pink dress. “They look cozy,” you observe. “Say hi to him for me, will you? I need to get ready to speak to everyone.”

Mingyu gives you a prolonged look that makes you more nervous than even the impending speech before he answers, “sure thing, boss. Break a leg. You’ll be great.”

It feels surreal — all of these people are mostly people who you see every day, mingling with publishing giants and friends, and everything is different. After what feels like no time at all, you take the low stage to begin your speech.

You take a deep breath, looking in the crowd for two specific people, and it isn’t until you’ve met eyes with Mingyu, who is softly smiling at you, and aimed a wave at Sara, that you begin. “This award is something I’ve been working toward since we started the magazine. I naively thought that receiving this award would finally help me to feel like I belonged in this industry, or that all the time I’d spend slaving for this business was actually worth it.

“The past year, however, has been the absolute hardest of my life. As many of you know, my sister -- the person who encouraged me to start this business, and the person without whom many of you, including me, would probably not have jobs -- was killed in a hit-and-run accident a year ago Thursday. And when you go through something like that, well...your perspective on life definitely changes. I have always been a believer in the power of story, but because of the life-altering experiences I’ve had over the course of this brutal year, I gained new insight into the stories that we should be telling with the voices we have in the time that we have them. I’m convinced that the team’s vision aligning so well with this change in priorities is why I’m on this stage accepting this award. So I have some people to thank for this.”

You’re practiced enough that your voice only shakes a little as you begin this part. “Firstly, my editor, Cory, who not only held us together while I was completely incapacitated, but also understood perfectly how to make this thing into the kind of thing that wins awards like this. If this was a ship, Cory would be at the helm, and I’m so glad that we have someone who is a perfect navigator. Cory knows the metaphorical sea and stars like an albatross, and he deserves to be the one speaking to you today, but we drew lots and I got the short stick.” The crowd laughs, and in the audience, Cory raises his glass to you, his arm snaked around the waist of his new girlfriend Lele.

You smile at his gesture and continue. “Secondly, to my assistant, Emily. She was hired only one single month before the accident, and she has become indispensable to me. One thing you should know about her is that her desire to do everything she can for anyone who needs it is not just one of her biggest professional strengths, it is also one of her best personal ones. Her competence and kindness will take her far -- here or wherever she goes.” When you spot Emily, her eyes are streaming with tears, and she gives you a little apologetic shrug as she wipes her eyes.

“Thirdly, I cannot thank the writing team, the creative team, the social media team, and the editing staff enough for supporting me through my bereavement and continuing to do such excellent work. I am grateful to have hired the right people, so that I can be confident that this important work we do will not be stopped if I am stopped.”

Now, the final message -- the part you hadn’t shown Mingyu yet. Partially because you wanted to surprise him, and partially because you were terrified of what he would know about you because of it, and you wanted to prolong the moment. You steady yourself and press on. “Finally, there have been a number of people in my personal life without whom I couldn’t be here today. Friends who pulled me out of the mud, almost literally, neighbors who looked out for my lawn, the kindest friend who watches my beautiful niece while I come to work --” and at this point, you intentionally avoid Mingyu’s gaze, “and Sara herself, who gives me a reason to wake up in the morning and who carries Jeri with her in her eyes. You have all been my hope in the fault lines, and without you, I would be so lost. Thank you for being my solid ground when everything around me was shaking.

“And of course, to my dear sister, my best friend, Jeri. From wherever you are, know that this award means infinitely more because of what I learned from you. I wish I could’ve learned it with you beside me, but I’m hoping every single day that when it’s my time, I’m even half of the person you are. Thank you.”

The audience applauds, and someone hands you a small glass statue as the physical evidence of your award, and pictures are snapped, and then it’s all over. You’re back in the crowd, and you’re drained and a bit embarrassed and empty, and the only person you want to talk to is Mingyu. You want to run to him and throw yourself into his arms and let him carry you away from the stage and the people who are flocking to you to hug you and offer condolences and shake your hand and congratulate you. But you can’t, so you let them approach until Emily (bless her) extracts you from the crowd.

“Your parents came,” she whispers to you, and you feel your jaw clench.

“Where are they?” you ask through your gritted teeth.

“By the food. I’ve tried to hold them off, but they want to meet Sara.”

“Where is she?”

“Mingyu’s changing her diaper.”

You grab Cory’s arm as he passes. “My parents are here. Please go in the bathroom and tell Mingyu not to leave until you come back to get him.” With an alarmed look, he obeys, and you stalk toward the two elderly people staring haughtily around at the crowd at the food table.

Your mother sees you first. As she meets your eyes you remember her wearing that same look while your father had “disciplined” you — with a belt. It’s a shrewd look, a calculating one. The last night you’d lived with them, before you’d taken Jeri and gotten out of that place, she had told him she didn’t think the message was sinking in enough. She suggested more stripes might remind you of “a woman’s place.”

As hard as she is to look at, he is infinitely worse. Your father has grown hunched in the ten years since you’ve seen him, his face becoming even more gaunt and severe, almost cartoonish in its caricatured lines. You stand up straighter and realize that you’re not afraid of him anymore. “What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice quiet so as not to attract attention and cause a scene.

“Is it a crime to want to see my daughter and granddaughter?” your father croaks.

“I don’t remember inviting you,” you say shortly. “I want to know how you found out about this.”

“I read about it in the paper,” he says.

“Well, thank you for coming,” you say. “But I think I made it clear that I don’t want contact with you after the trial.”

“The judge only ruled that Sara would live with you. They didn’t mention that we could never see her,” your mother claims.

“No, they didn’t say that. But I did,” you remind her, your voice surprisingly gentle despite your anger.

There is a sudden warmth from a hand at your shoulder. “Are you okay?” Mingyu asks quietly.

You turn to face him, giving him a tight smile. “Yeah,” you say, a bit shaken but still determined. “Where’s Sara?”

“Wonwoo is watching her,” he replies. “Do you need help with them?”

You had told him about your parents and the vaguest details of their abuse around month four. He knew you’d left home at seventeen with Jeri in tow, determined to let her be safer than you had been. He knew that there had been a nasty custody battle necessitating your admission of everything they’d done to you so that Sara would never be subjected to the childhood you had. He didn’t know that you’d had to teach yourself how to do makeup in seventh grade to hide the black eye your father had given you, because your mother believed makeup to be deceitful and of the devil. He didn’t know all the times you’d stepped in front of Jeri to prevent your father from hurting her. He didn’t know the fear you’d felt when they took you to court to try and take your niece away from you — all on the basis that a child without her father, raised by only a woman, could never be complete.

He didn’t know everything, but still he was there at your side. Big and strong and never angry except for right now, his dark eyes flashing and his mouth set in a straight line. You’d wondered how your soft, silly, sweet Mingyu had managed to survive for years as a federal agent, but now you knew. Mingyu could be intimidating if he wanted to be – he simply chose not to be most of the time.

You sigh, relieved. “I think I would like help with them, actually.”

This is all Mingyu needs to spring into action. He moves for your father, taking him by the arm in what you’re sure is a vice grip, as you link an arm around your mother’s arm. “I need the both of you to go,” you tell her. “And if I see you again, I’ll file a restraining order. Don’t think I won’t. I’d prefer not to do it, so just leave us alone. We’re happy.” You release her in the hotel lobby, and she and your father scurry away.

As you walk back to the party with Mingyu, you ask, “did he say anything to you?”

Mingyu shrugs. “Nothing worth repeating.” The two of you hunt down Sara, and you give her a big hug before letting her finally wander around on her own two feet, which she’s been begging Wonwoo to do. It does your heart good to watch her be herself without any fear of retribution.

You’re surprised at how normal you feel after returning to the group. Your hands still shake, and you do keep a closer eye on Sara than normal, but you don’t dwell on it. It didn’t burn you like you expected to see them again. Perhaps, you reason, although the pain of seeing your parents again is very different from your grief, and there is nearly ten years of distance between that pain and your current life, you have actually become stronger. The thought makes you warm from the inside out. The rest of the event goes by in a blur -- all the way up until you overhear Mingyu talking to Wonwoo. “Come out with us tonight,” Wonwoo plies.

“I don’t know,” Mingyu says, sounding reluctant.

“You should,” you find yourself saying, grinning as they both jump at your words. “Sorry for eavesdropping. Why wouldn’t you go?”

Mingyu snorts. “I’ll go if you go.”

You grin regretfully at Wonwoo. “Sorry,” you say. “I have the duties of motherhood to attend to.”

Bora is standing nearby and interjects. “Actually, I think it’d be great if you went. I can take Sara tonight.”

You shoot her a look. “I wasn’t even invited. That was a joke.”

“No, you’re definitely invited,” Wonwoo says. “Please come. Seungcheol is going to be there, and he just got rejected, so he needs someone more responsible than me to look after him. Who better than a literal mother?”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t birth her, Wonwoo.”

“You’re still her mom,” says Bora. “I’m taking her home with me. Go out, have fun! It’ll be good for you. The last time you went out, you ended up finding Mingyu. So maybe tonight something great will happen.”

You can hear the suggestive edge in her voice. It has you glaring daggers at her as she reaches for Sara. “I’ll leave you to it,” she says, and scurries away.

***

“I’m not good at drinking,” you confess over the music.

“Then don’t drink too much,” Wonwoo says.

“Is everything just that simple for you?” you ask him, amused.

He grins. “Actually, yes.” He looks over to where the girl he brought and Mingyu are chatting happily about some inane thing, and frowns. “Sometimes even I complicate things, though.”

“I think she really likes you.” Wonwoo turns to look at you, eyes wide, and you chuckle. “I think we’re alike,” you explain. “Neither of us are very forward usually, or very good at expressing ourselves.”

Wonwoo nods with a sheepish grin. “That’s accurate.”

“So…do you like her?” you ask him bluntly.

Wonwoo clears his throat and downs a shot before replying. “I’ve been in love with her for a long time.”

“And you still haven’t said anything?” you ask sympathetically.

“Well, I mean, we’ve kissed. And we’ve held hands. And I kind of confessed.”

You eye him skeptically. “And would you say she’s more like you and I, personality-wise, or more like Mingyu?”

“Definitely Mingyu,” he replies.

“Do you think Mingyu would pick up on a half-confession?”

Wonwoo thinks to himself. “He’d probably understand what you’re saying, but I think he’d be too worried to do anything about it unless you were explicit. He’s too polite and cautious to cross a line like that.”

You try not to think about what he’s saying in the context of you and Mingyu, but it’s hard. “So, do you know what you need to do?” you ask him, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“Own up to my feelings, probably.” Wonwoo laughs at himself.

“You’ve already kissed,” you point out. “And she’s stuck around. If she hated that you kissed her, it might be one thing, but it seems to me like she’s pretty into being with you. You don’t have to be poetic, just tell her how she makes you feel and let her respond how she wants.”

He nods, putting the shot glass back on the bar and standing up. “Thanks,” he says. “You might consider taking your own advice, too.” And with that, he walks across the room to the girl and leans in to whisper something to her. The two of them leave together, and Mingyu turns to look at you, giving you a quizzical look.

“What did you say to him?” he asks, coming to sit in Wonwoo’s vacated seat.

“I told him to go for it,” you say, your head still buzzing with Wonwoo’s last comment to you. You sip sparingly at your piña colada and sigh. “What are we even doing here?” you ask Mingyu with an uncharacteristic giggle, probably brought on by the alcohol in your system. “I’ve never been a person who goes to bars, and since becoming a parent, I am even less of one.”

Mingyu laughs. “Well, I was having a great time talking with Wonwoo’s girl, until someone decided to be an inspiration. As per usual.”

“Where are Seungcheol and Vernon?” you say, ignoring his compliment but for a small grin.

“I think they’re in an intense game of pool. Vernon’s doing a better job distracting Cheol than I thought he would,” Mingyu says. “Although they’re both super drunk. We should go check on them.”

Mingyu takes your hand and guides you through the crowded bar, to a back room with a pool table, a ping pong table, and a couple of old arcade games. Vernon and Seungcheol have abandoned the pool table and are standing by the ancient-looking jukebox. As you watch, Seungcheol whacks the jukebox with his fist, and then groans in pain. Mingyu wordlessly jogs over to them and grabs Seungcheol’s hand to inspect it.

“Wanted it to play that one song,” Seungcheol slurs at Mingyu as you approach. “The one that reminds me of her.”

Mingyu looks at him in a mixture of amusement and worry. “Which one?”

“She’s Got a Way,” Vernon says, stumbling over. “Billy Joel is the best.”

“I think you should sit down,” Mingyu says to both of them as they lean heavily on him. You grab Vernon by the arm and help him over to the nearest collection of chairs, just as a pretty girl in a black dress strides up to Mingyu helping Seungcheol.

“Hi, handsome,” she says.

“Pia?” Mingyu says, shocked. “Oh, wow. Um, hi! It’s been awhile.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“Sure has, soldier.” She doesn’t spare you or either of the other two men a single glance -- her focus is solely on Mingyu. “Where have you been?”

“I was living in Italy for a minute. You know, doing the whole nannying thing still.” He clears his throat. “But I’ve been back awhile.”

“Huh,” Pia says. “Can’t believe you haven’t lost your mind around all those kids yet. Let me buy you a drink. You can tell me all about it.”

Mingyu shoots you a sideways glance. You want to drag him away from her -- with your teeth, if necessary -- but you say nothing, hoping your face isn’t betraying the open hostility in your heart. “I don’t know,” he says, hesitating. “I’m supposed to drive later.”

“Then I’ll buy you a virgin daiquiri. Nothing hokey, I promise,” she says smoothly, taking Mingyu’s arm. “I’ll have you back here before you know it.” And with that, she waltzes him away as he looks at you, wide-eyed, over his shoulder.

You aren’t really mad at him. You could tell that if it were up to him, he’d have stayed with the three of you -- if only because he was worried about Vernon and Seungcheol being too much for you. And yet, it still rankled to see him walking away with another woman.

Another very pretty woman.

Maybe it’s this that leads you to order another drink when the waiter comes around. And another. Two drinks was enough alcohol to get you shit-faced. Three has you singing along to She’s Got a Way with the other two when it finally plays, even though you never sing.

By the time Mingyu arrives back to your group, he is shocked to see you with your arms slung around the other two, your cheeks pink and your eyes bright, belting another song along with them while Seungcheol weeps unabashedly into your shoulder.

“I think it’s time to leave,” he says, amused, propping Seungcheol up. “Stay right there, baby. I’ll be back.”

You blink. It feels like time is moving in slow motion as Mingyu turns to leave the bar. “Did he just call me baby?” you ask Vernon stupidly.

“I think so,” Vernon says, nodding. “It’d be weird if he called me that.”

You frown. “Why does he do stuff like that?”

Vernon shakes his head. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that the room is spinning, which means I drank too much, so I’m gonna just lay down for a second.”

You watch Vernon put his forehead to the table and give a drunken scoff. Mingyu arrives shortly afterward, lifting you princess-style out of your chair as though you weigh nothing and telling Vernon he’ll be back. He lays you in the passenger seat of your car, grinning down at you. “I see why you don’t drink often,” he teases. “You really are a lightweight.”

Seungcheol groans from the backseat. “Kiss her,” he commands, too loud, causing passerby to look over in shock.

To Mingyu’s surprise, your eyes light up. You still have a hand gripping his soft tee from when the world tilted alarmingly as he hoisted you off the chair, and your eyes are out of focus and you keep blinking at him to try and see him, and you’re uncomfortably aware that your hair is plastered to your forehead with sweat.

Adorable. He can’t help but think it. The alcohol has done its job admirably — your cheeks are flushed, and your usually-guarded gaze is open and almost dangerous in your blatant desire for him. It takes everything in him to restrain himself from listening to Seungcheol and kissing you in front of all these people.

But you’re so drunk, and he cares too much about you to do it like this, so he gently removes your fist from his shirt and runs back into the bar to get Vernon, hearing Seungcheol yell “Coward!” at him as he retreats. In no time he packs Vernon into the back of the car and drives off, monitoring you in the passenger side.

Seungcheol gets out at Vernon’s house, and together they stagger inside. Mingyu watches them in amusement until he hears you sniffling. Alarmed, he looks down to see you crying quietly into your hands.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, befuddled.

“I’m drunk,” you say in a choked, muffled voice. “People just cry when they’re drunk sometimes.”

He shrugs, then pats your shoulder. “I guess you’re right.” But he continues to watch as your tears continue to fall. Finally he pulls up to your house, and you claw at your seatbelt, trying to pull yourself loose. He chuckles and pops the button easily, and you fling the door open and promptly fall out of the car.

In a panic, Mingyu runs around the side of the car to see you weeping on your own driveway. When he moves to help you, you weakly try to push him away. “What’s going on, honey?” he says, suddenly realizing you may not have told him the truth earlier about the reason for your tears.

“I’m mad at you,” you admit, wiping your eyes. “And I cry when I’m mad.”

He purses his lips. “Well, can I at least get you inside? Then we can talk about it.”

You hesitate, then nod. Wordlessly he scoops you into his arms, and despite everything you’re feeling, you tuck yourself into the crook of his neck. He’s so warm, and you breathe in his scent, feeling the pain of the fall and your own feelings ease a little.

“So,” he says after he’s propped you up on your couch. “What’s this about, huh?”

You look up at him with red eyes. “I’m not actually mad at you.” You take a deep breath in. “I’m mad at me.”

The realization had hit you when you’d reached Vernon’s apartment. You had broken your own heart, beyond what you thought was possible after losing your sister, because every version of your future that you had even the slightest desire to live in had Mingyu in it. And not as your nanny — as your partner. The sudden impossibility of any of those futures becoming reality has rushed to you, because Mingyu needs a job, and you need a nanny, and to change anything about your relationship would cost him his livelihood — or cost the both of you the relationship you already have.

The only thing more impossible than explaining this was staying quiet, however.

So when he asks why, you tell him. “I ruined everything, Mingyu. I … I put us both in the worst possible situation.”

“How?” His eyes are zeroed in on your face, alight in the dim room.

You can almost taste your own heartbeat as you reply. “I…fell in love with you.”

Mingyu’s jaw drops.

“I know, it’s stupid. And you…you have better options than me, plus…we’re impossible. You and me, it would never work anyway. But I had to say it before I catch fire from the inside out.”

When you finally look at Mingyu, his shock has turned into a pained expression. “Impossible?” he repeats quietly.

You nod sleepily as the tears overtake you again. “Like trying to fit a round peg in a square hole,” you confirm, sniffling.

“Why is it impossible?” he asks. “Explain that.” For the first time since you’ve known Mingyu, he sounds angry with you.

And this makes you angry, too.

“Because this is not the life you deserve,” you say, your voice too loud for the living room. “Me, my grief, my baggage, a kid — you deserve your own family. One that isn’t so … messy.” Your voice cracks near the end of your rant, but you choke your tears down like you had in front of your parents and their rage all those years ago.

“What if you’re enough for me?” he challenges, eyes flashing.

“I’m not going to let you throw the whole life you could have with someone else away for someone who can’t give you what you want!” you yell. “I can’t love you like you deserve, Mingyu!”

Mingyu’s face crumples from anger to shattering grief. He stands up, grabs his jacket, and heads for the door.

You want to yell at him to come back, but feel too guilty and tired and stressed and awful to say a word. Before he opens the door, he half turns over his shoulder, not meeting your eyes. “I know you, and I know how you love. And it’s more than enough. You are what I want.” His tone is so careful and measured that you know he wants to yell back at you. He couldn’t be more serious, or more plain about what he’s saying. He finally looks into your eyes as he opens the door.

“If you ever stop being afraid of that, you know where to find me,” he says quietly.

And without another glance, he steps into the night, letting the door shut with an awful sense of finality.

***

“Get up,” says Bora sternly, ripping the sheets off you.

You groan and bury your face in your pillows. “No,” you say.

“Sara has been asking for you,” she insists.

You glare at her, but push yourself up and follow her downstairs. Sara is playing happily on the floor with Morrie. When she catches sight of you, she yells her toddler version of your name. Your heart partially pieces itself back together, and you respond to her reaching arms by pulling her close. “Hey, baby. Did you have a fun sleepover?”

“Yeah!” Sara yells excitedly. “We had soooooooooo much fun!!”

“We played with my princess toys,” Morrie informs you.

“Oh did you?” you say, trying to mimic their excitement.

“Yeah!! Mommy said you went out to have fun with a cute boy,” Morrie says. “Did you have fun?”

You glance over at Bora before responding. “I may have had a little too much fun.”

Bora hisses, but you shake your head at her, letting her know with your eyes that you’ll talk later. She hangs around for the morning, and when Morrie and Sara go down for their naps, she corners you.

“Tell me why Mingyu didn’t show up this morning,” she demands.

You sigh. “Because I am the dumbest, stupidest idiot known to all mankind.” And you tell her everything.

She listens intently. “And then he texted this morning and told me he needed some time,” you finish, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat.

“So what are you gonna do about it?” she asks you. You note the strain in her tone and realize she’s mad at you too.

“I don’t know,” you snap, her anger and your own pain making you feel trapped and defensive.

“That man is in love with you,” she says, exasperated. “I mean, it was really obvious that he feels the same way about you that you feel about him. And you’re just going to stubbornly suggest that he’s too good for you?”

“He literally is, though,” you say, desperate to make her understand. “He’s the perfect man. He could be with anyone. I have a kid and a company, and he deserves someone’s full attention and full heart, and that will never be me.”

Bora’s shaking her head. “No, listen to me. You’ve always been like this. You think love is this finite thing and once you give it to one thing you don’t have enough to give to something else. I thought Sara would change that about you. Do you forget about Sara when you’re at work?”

You think to yourself. No, in fact. You thought about her constantly. You even did your job in the hope that one day she would know she could do whatever she set her mind to. “And did you stop running your business just because you became Sara’s guardian?” Bora asks you, watching you as you think. “Of course you didn’t. Because love isn’t finite, you dummy.”

You stare at her, unconvinced. She sighs. “Sweetheart, I see the way you look at him. I know you know you have feelings for him, but when you think about an entire lifetime without Mingyu, when you think about him moving on with someone else, how does that feel?”

“Unbearable,” you whisper. You’ve already thought about it -- all last night, after you sobered up, you thought about what would happen to you if that was the last time you ever saw Mingyu. You knew you’d keep going, for Sara, like always. But you also knew you’d be a shell of who you were when you were with him, and you didn’t like to think how long it would take for you to fill yourself back up.

Which brings you to a greater worry. “What if I just…got attached? Because he was something for me to hold onto during all this?” you ask her.

“So what if you did? That’s as real a reason to be attached to someone as I can think of.”

“I don’t want to be trauma-bonded, Bora.”

She rolls her eyes. “Have you ever heard him say anything mean? About anyone?”

“No?” Because he hadn’t. Not even your parents. He was unfailingly kind.

“And has he ever made you feel inferior, for any reason?”

“Of course not,” you say. In fact, even when he teased, he was never disrespectful.

“And are the two of you able to talk about things together without antagonizing each other?”

“Yes,” you tell her, realizing all at once that your friendship with Mingyu is one of the healthiest you have.

Bora nods. “You need to go see him.” She grabs your hand and starts tugging you up the stairs.

“But I just got Sara back, and he says he needs time!” you protest, shocked.

“He needs time from the you that didn’t know you didn’t want to live without him,” she says forcefully, throwing one of your duffel bags onto your bed and tossing a random assortment of clothing into it.

“Why are we packing?” you ask her in alarm.

“You aren’t coming home tonight,” she says matter-of-factly.

“I’m not?”

“For the smartest person I know, you’re an absolute idiot,” she says. “Grab pajamas, sweetie.”

You know better than to argue with Bora when she gets into tornado mode. So you pull out your favorite sweatpants and a hoodie. Bora looks at your selections with a critical eye. “Comfort over style?” she asks, moving to your dresser. She opens the top drawer and extracts the pretty pink lingerie an ex boyfriend got you for Christmas three years ago.

“What is that for?” you ask as she grabs a black bra and panty set and shoves it into the bag as well. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the beating of your heart suddenly rattling in your brain.

She doesn’t respond, just takes you out to your car and hands you the keys she grabbed -- still on the counter where Mingyu had left them the night before. “I’m prohibiting you from coming home tonight. I’ll take care of Sara. Don’t worry about anything, just go.”

It’s not until you’re on the road that it hits you fully what you’re about to do. You’ve never done anything like this before -- never cared enough to take the risk that you’re about to take. You try not to imagine him slamming the door in your face and drive faster, wanting to get to the part where you’re standing in front of him saying what you need to say.

Finally, you arrive. You take a deep breath before dashing from the car to knock on Mingyu’s door. Your knocks are so persistent and loud that he answers right away, looking shocked to see you of all people on his porch with a duffel bag.

The first words out of his mouth aren’t what you expect. “Are you fleeing the country?”

“Huh?” you ask.

“Your duffel bag. And you look like you just robbed a bank,” he says with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh. Um, no. I...can I come in? I really need to talk to you.” You can hear how thick your voice sounds, and you try to clear your throat, but breathing is hard. Because there he is -- wet hair from a recent shower, white tank top with massive arms fully visible, and eyes that only just barely betray the hurt of the night before. The hurt you caused.

He steps aside to let you in, and you scurry past him and lay your bag down before you turn to face him. “Is Wonwoo here?” you ask first.

“Nah, he stayed with his girl last night.” Mingyu’s eyes are steady on you, urging you to explain yourself, and you’re more nervous than ever. You rub your slick palms on your sweatpants and will yourself to find the words to continue.

“I’m so scared,” you finally whisper to him.

His face is stony, unreadable. “Of what?” he asks.

“Everything,” you tell him. “All of this. I’m scared of you most of all.”

He softens a little. “Why?” he asks, taking a step toward you.

You step forward too -- close enough to touch him. And for the first time in your life, you make the move, reaching forward and taking his big hand in yours. “Because you, Kim Mingyu, could ruin me. I love you in a way that’s never supposed to end, and that terrifies me. I don’t ever want to lose you. And I could. I might have already.”

He’s very still, watching your face, looking for any signs of a lie. It’s such a relief to be touching him, and you’re so high on the feeling of his warm hand in yours, that you sigh as you bring his knuckles to your lips, breathing a kiss over each one.

“You mean it,” he says quietly, watching you adore him.

“I do,” you say. “I really, really do. I love you, Kim Mingyu.”

Those are the words that seem to hit him like a comet breaking through the atmosphere. He tugs you forward and into his arms and buries his face in your neck, squeezing you hard enough that you feel your ribs crack.

“I love you too,” he says, and you hear the hint of tears in his voice. “I wish I could find a way to tell you how I feel right now,” Mingyu says into your hair. “I meant what I said. You’re everything I ever wanted. Sara, too.”

And you know there’s still things that you’ll need to work out, but when you’re in Mingyu’s arms, it all seems to matter a lot less. The relief is instantaneous, his touch soothing the tightness in your chest, and you finally let yourself open up fully, melting into him and squeezing him back. Mingyu lets go of you only briefly and only partially to pull you over to the sofa, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind and pulling you to his chest.

“What made you decide to come?” he asks you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You give a small laugh. “Bora,” you say. “It was actually barely my choice at all. She basically threw me out of my own house.”

You can feel the vibration of his own chuckle where your head rests against his chest. “Thank goodness for Bora.”

“Mmm,” you say in agreement, relaxing into his embrace. Mingyu’s arms tighten around you, and he leans down to kiss your shoulder through your several layers of sweatshirt. “So, how long have you liked me?” you ask him shyly.

He sighs. “It was almost at first sight for me,” he admits, blushing as your jaw drops. “I’m serious! You looked so cute that first morning. So frazzled, too.”

“Imagine my shock,” you explain, “when I hire a nanny and someone who looks like you shows up.” You trace a light hand up and down the arms wrapped around you, watching as they erupt into goosebumps.

“What do you mean? Did I look irresponsible?” he teases.

“No, you’re just the hottest man alive,” you say, grinning at him over your shoulder.

He looks both shy and pleased with himself. “I am?” he asks, his smile growing.

You turn back around and sink into him again. “My love, I’m going to need you to invest in a mirror. You clearly don’t know what you look like.”

Mingyu gives a soft laugh. Slowly and deliberately, he kisses down the side of your face from your temple down your cheekbone, bringing a hand up to turn your head to face him. “Would you like a kiss from the hottest man alive?” he asks very seriously, but he can’t help the corners of his mouth from turning upward just a bit.

You nod, privately and internally screaming to yourself. It’s been a very long time -- what if you’re bad at it?

But Mingyu is so careful. He just barely tilts your chin up and lets your lips meet his, soft and warm and tender. You let your lips part slightly, and lean in just slightly more, adding a bit of pressure. His hand on your face is steady and strong, and you can taste coconut oil on his lips from his chapstick. Kissing Mingyu is heaven, as thrilling as a roller coaster but as safe as a night at home in Sara’s rocking chair. Your mind is full of him — everything else seems to evaporate as though Mingyu is the only real thing in the world, and you cling to him, trembling, as though he might disappear too. You have to remind yourself to take it slow, although your heart clattering against your ribs is begging you for more from his lips, but can’t help a soft hum of pleasure from escaping you as he breaks the kiss and comes back for another, slipping his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck.

He smiles against your lips at the sound. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, pulling away a bit.

And although you’re trembling with a surplus of emotions, you manage an eye roll. “I don’t have to answer that,” you say, breathing too heavily.

Those darling crow’s feet appear at the corners of his eyes as he notices the heat rising in your face, even brushing a thumb along the pink that has appeared on the apple of your cheek. “I would do things all the time to make that happen,” he admits, dropping a feather light kiss on your cheek. “You looked so cute, and it also made me feel like maybe you might love me back one day.”

“For your information, I liked you almost this entire time, too,” you tell him.

“When did it shift?” he asks. “Between liking me and loving me, I mean.”

You consider. “I think it became clearer to me when Sara started calling you dad — you remember? It was around her first birthday.”

“I remember!” he says. “I was worried you’d be mad.”

You smile. “I wasn’t mad at all. It occurred to me then that I couldn’t see myself finding anyone else to love Sara the same way, or that it would just all feel wrong and weird if it wasn’t you. I thought about it plenty of times beforehand, though. I think the first time I felt something real was when I got sick.”

“Two weeks in?” Mingyu asks, surprised.

“Yeah, about that long,” you confirm, and his eyes go wide.

“We’ve really just been driving each other crazy and not saying anything for the past however many months?” He laughs his high-pitched giggle. “We’re idiots!”

“Well, we figured it out eventually,” you say, spinning around to face him. “Now, I have a question.”

“Ask away,” he says, his eyes soft and adoring as he gazes at you.

“Why did you fall for me? I’m a wreck.”

He laughs again, and you swat at his arm. “I’m being serious. You couldn’t have come into my life in worse circumstances, and you’ve seen me at every extreme. Why do you love me? Why not someone...I don’t know, younger? Less riddled with grief? Someone who isn’t a package deal?”

He thinks for a minute. “Well, you’re not a decrepit old woman, as much as you might think you are. I’m actually six months older than you,” he informs you.

“You are? How do you know?”

“Your birthday is October 16. Mine is April 6 of the same year.”

“How do you know that?” you repeat, shocked.

“I stalked you on social media,” he replies, blushing himself.

You decide to let this go. “But you still haven’t explained why you love me,” you protest.

He looks at you, grinning at your eagerness with stars in his eyes, brushing your hair out of your face to see you better. “The first thing I loved about you was how much love you had for your niece,” he begins. “You didn’t resent her at all even though she’d sort of wrecked your whole life plan. That said something about you. I could tell you had a good heart.” He pauses. “The second thing I loved about you was your ass.”

You gape at him. He bursts into laughter, and you shove his shoulder. “I’m kidding,” he says. “Although,” he continues, reaching around to lift you onto his lap by said ass, “it is pretty incredible.”

You have to rest your hands on his chest to keep yourself upright, but you avoid meeting his eyes, even though you’re straddling him. You’re feeling like someone zapped you with a bolt of lightning as a tingle spreads from your inside out. “Hey,” he says softly. “Look at me, baby.”

You force yourself to look into his eyes, which are warm and smiling at you over a fine dusting of freckles across his nose. He shifts his weight a bit so you’re resting more comfortably across his hips, and your breathing grows heavier. “Is this okay?” he asks, a bit amused at how much the simple change in position seems to be affecting you.

Trying to look unbothered, you nod. “Please go on,” you say.

“What was I saying?” he asks, his hand dancing down your spine and making you shiver, still grinning up at you.

“Something about my ass,” you tell him, and he laughs.

“Right,” he says. “But seeing how you treated Sara was the first thing. Then I appreciated how hard you worked. And then I loved your humor and how you teased me. And then I admired how you opened up to me. And then —“

“Alright, enough,” you interrupt, embarrassed.

“The point is,” he continues with a broad smile, “it all came down to how much love you had inside you. You loved everything and everyone so much, in a way that was so unique to anyone I’d ever met. It was just you.”

You laugh at this – the very reason he fell for you was the thing you were worried about not being able to give him.

He sighs contentedly at the sound. “After a while the possibility of being with anyone else just felt … gross. You can ask Wonwoo — we had a few particularly miserable nights of drinking about it.”

You ruffle his hair. “You talked about me to your friends?”

“Almost constantly for almost as long as I’ve known you,” he confirms. “They’re so sick of me.”

You tsk softly, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder. “They deserve for us to take them to dinner,” you say, lightly scratching up and down his back. You can’t help but sigh in relief — Mingyu’s touch feels like stepping inside from the cold. You can feel yourself relaxing against him, your heartbeat slowing.

After several minutes of holding each other like this, Mingyu extricates himself. “One second, baby,” he says, pecking you on the forehead.

“Where are you going?” you ask, wincing at the whine in your voice.

“I just need to text my housemate,” he calls over his shoulder as he disappears into one of the bedrooms. “I’m gonna tell him not to come home.”

You suddenly become painfully aware of the pink lingerie buried in your duffel bag.

If it’s been awhile since you’ve kissed anyone, it’s been an age since you’ve had sex. And on top of that, all the sex you’ve had has been at worst embarrassing and at best okay. To say you’re nervous is an understatement — more nervous than you were the first time you ever undressed in front of a man, and you’re still fully clothed.

So you just wait for him to come back, smiling at him as he re-enters the room, flops onto the couch, and lays his head in your lap. You almost automatically run your fingers through the slightly longer hair on top of his head, letting your fingernails lightly brush against his scalp. He nestles into you and sighs. “So, what do you want to do tonight?”

You can’t help the choked laugh that escapes you. “Well…” you begin, as you blush and Mingyu looks up at you in alarm.

“Oh,” he realizes, sitting up. “That was such a leading question. I didn’t mean it like that.”

You put a gentle hand to his cheek. “I know you didn’t,” you say. “But…”

At your hesitation, he shakes his head. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I just told Wonwoo to stay out because I want us to have uninterrupted time together before we need to go take care of Sara.”

The anxiety leaves you almost instantly. “Thanks,” you say in relief. “Um…are you hungry? You’ve cooked for me so often. It might be fun to do a little role reversal tonight.”

“I’m starving,” he admits, “but what if I take you out to a restaurant?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Looking like this?” you ask, gesturing to yourself.

“We could change?” he suggests.

“How’s this for compromise,” you say, feeling like he just doesn’t want you to do anything for him tonight. “We order takeout. I know this great pizza place.”

His face lights up. “Pizza sounds amazing.”

45 minutes later, you’re both tucked into Mingyu’s comforter on the sofa, eating pizza with your legs tangled together. “Let’s pick a movie,” Mingyu says with his mouth partially full.

You nod, handing him the remote. The two of you scroll through options before settling on Legally Blonde. When you bring up that you think Mingyu is only watching the movie for you, he side-eyes you comically. “This is one of my favorite movies!” he insists, and you let him have it.

But there’s starting to be an issue. The adrenaline of the impulsive decision to come to him and confess has worn off, and in its place is a new, unfamiliar, and powerful feeling. An unbearable ache you barely recognize, coming from body parts that haven’t been touched in years. And you definitely aren’t surprised that you’re attracted to Mingyu, but you are surprised at how turned on you are by him in his tank top, eating pizza straight out of the box. You’re practically salivating as you watch him watch the movie.

It doesn’t take long for him to notice. “Um, baby,” he says. “Everything okay?”

He’s got a little piece of cheese at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes are big and slightly concerned. Before you realize what you’re saying, you blurt out, “I wanna do it!”

“Do what?” he asks, bewildered.

“Do you,” you clarify. You grin sheepishly at him.

He chuckles a little, watching you carefully. “Are you sure?” he says once he can see you’re serious.

“Well, unless you don’t want to,” you backtrack, realizing that in your painful need for him you’d forgotten his feelings.

He raises an eyebrow. “No, I most definitely want to,” he says, scooting closer to you. He lightly brushes his fingers over your cheekbones, his touch sending a jolt of desire through your body. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can take it slow.”

“Mingyu,” you say, closing the distance between the two of you and taking his face in your hands. “We’ve been taking it slow for four months. I’m officially finished going slow with you.” You puff out a breath, uttering a quiet but desperate “please” that fades into the air like smoke, and before it has, Mingyu has pulled you into his arms and stood up off the couch. He kisses you deeply, catching your bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle bite that has you gasping for air. He stumbles blindly to the bathroom with your legs locked around his waist, sitting you down on the counter to continue kissing you, only pulling back to pull your sweatshirt up and over your head to reveal the bare skin and bra underneath.

And then, at a dizzying pace, he’s kissing down your cheek, down your neck, across your shoulder, feathering kisses over every freckle there until he’s brushing your bra strap to the side while one hand at your back slides up to unhook it.

You find yourself wishing you had a camera present for the way Mingyu’s face looks when he sees your bare chest for the first time. You half-expect him to bury his face in your breasts, so you tug him closer by the waistband of his sweats and press yourself closer to him, his fingers drawing lines of fire up and down the bare skin of your back as you hook your legs around him once more.

You’re tugging on his tank top, now, discarding the useless material so you can finally let his warmth completely envelope you skin-to-skin. He lifts you up off the counter and sets you down gently, taking a step back and gesturing to your shorts. “Need those off, baby,” he says, running a hand through his hair before smoothly untying the lace at the front of his own sweats and slipping them off.

But now it’s your turn to stare. You’d never really been given the chance to appreciate a naked body in such a present way, but you weren’t about to waste the opportunity when that body was Mingyu’s. You let your eyes roam over every perfect inch of him, only allowing yourself to look back at his eyes when he says your name. “You okay, love?” he says softly, taking a hesitant step closer.

You laugh softly. “That is not nearly a strong enough word.” You finally reach down and remove your own shorts, and Mingyu sucks in a breath from between his teeth. “Damn,” he exclaims, looking you up and down briefly before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the bedroom you can see through the other bathroom door.

He climbs into bed, under the covers, and pats the space next to him. You crawl in beside him as he pulls on a condom and then puts his hand to your cheek. “You ready?” he asks.

You’re breathless, you’re sweating, and you need him biblically. So you whisper “yes,” and Mingyu’s pulling you in for a deep, slow, spine-tingling kiss, his eyes fluttering shut, shifting his weight so that he’s hovering over you.

But then he does something you don’t expect, trailing kisses from your chin down your neck and chest. When he stops to drag his tongue over your nipples, you squirm a little, getting more and more heated by the minute. After a few minutes spent worshiping your breasts, he continues kissing down your body, pausing when he reaches your waist. “This okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, about two octaves higher than your normal voice, and he grins before his next question.

“Can I go lower, sweetie?”

This is new. No one has ever offered to eat you out before, and you’re suddenly insecure.

Mingyu can see it on your face. “It’s just so that you can feel good,” he reassures. “If you don’t want it, I won’t do it.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quickly. “It’s just new. But I trust you.”

“New?” he questions with raised eyebrows.

“My first time,” you confirm.

He scoffs. “Then I guess I have to make up for lost time,” he says, pulling your legs over his shoulders and going to work.

And you can’t help the sharp intake of air, nor the moans that escape you, because this feeling is one of the best you’ve ever felt in your life. Mingyu eats like his life depends on it, and your back arches in pleasure as he responds to your sounds, learning what makes you feel best. Your hand finds the back of his head, and you find yourself wishing he had more hair that you could grab as you tremble with his efforts.

It doesn’t take long before the pleasure overtakes you, washing over you in a warm wave and making you feel all floaty and euphoric, your whole body seizing and twitching feverishly as Mingyu works you down from your high. When he finally pulls back, his mouth wet and grinning, you have to remind yourself how to breathe. “How was it?” he asks.

You can only shake your head and stare at him, dumbfounded. He laughs, then kneels in front of you on the bed so you can see how hard he’s gotten. “Can I?” he asks you, and in response you sit up and kiss him before pulling him down by his neck on top of you, guiding him inside of you.

You whimper a bit at the stretch, but Mingyu’s left you wet enough that it slides right in, and it feels amazing. “You okay, baby?” he checks again, and you chuckle.

“Yeah, just kiss me, Gyu,” you say, almost drunkenly, and the nickname on your dazed lips is almost enough to bring him to his own climax. But Mingyu is a good listener, so while he thrusts into you, he kisses you, over and over and over again, pausing every now and then to kiss your neck so that he can hear you moan into his ear.

“Good girl,” he says after a particularly loud one. “Talk to me. I wanna hear it.”

“How does it feel for you?” you ask him breathlessly.

“Like heaven, baby,” he grunts. “You’re so good. So, so good.”

You come another two times with him inside you, the last bringing on his orgasm. He collapses on top of you with a moan right in your ear that nearly undoes you yet again – so you can know how good you really are – and the weight of him is once again what brings you back down to earth. Your brain is hopelessly mushy, and your legs are shaking, and you have never been so satisfied.

After a minute, Mingyu pulls out and rolls off of you, chuckling. “Wow,” he says simply.

“Wow,” you agree, blinking rapidly to try and clear your head.

He props himself up on his side and looks at you, his eyes devouring your body like a man starved. With a shaking hand, he traces the outline of your figure, from the curve of your shoulders to your waist to the widest point of your hips. “Can’t believe how lucky I am,” he says, moony-eyed and smitten. “God, you’re amazing.”

“Was it really that good for you?” you ask him, a little shy.

“Easily the best I’ve ever had,” he says. He sits up, pulling his condom off, and heads into the bathroom, returning in minutes with a towel and some wipes. And then he cleans you, kissing your thighs as he gently wipes you off, and your heart skips a beat as you watch him. Once again, nobody has ever done this sort of thing for you, leaving you feeling odd after every sexual encounter – almost used.

“Me too,” you say softly, knowing how you must be looking at him. “Do you want to shower?” you ask him when he catches you staring yet again.

“Yeah,” he says with a smile.

The rest of the evening is spent in comfortable, peaceful companionship. You tease Mingyu over his 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, and he responds by making out with you in the shower, which leads to both of you almost falling on the slick wet tiles. “Can’t help it,” he says with a laugh when you scold him, gripping the top edge of the shower and holding you around the waist to keep you upright. “I’m addicted to you.”

After the shower Mingyu hands you one of his softest big white t-shirts to wear, snapping several photos of you on his phone when you come out wearing it. “I miss you sometimes,” he explains, and you chuckle. “And I wanna remember tonight. I’m not exaggerating – it’s been the best one of my life.”

Finally, the two of you decide to actually finish Legally Blonde. You fall asleep before it’s over, but he stays up watching the way your eyelashes flutter in sleep, feeling that the sight of you curled up against his chest is the only sight he needs for the rest of his life.

And that’s how you end up spending the entire first night over at Mingyu’s sleeping on the couch in his arms.

***

“It’s Saturday,” you mumble into Mingyu’s neck.

“Mmm,” he agrees sleepily.

“So we can sleep in,” you sigh.

His arms constrict around your waist. “Sara,” he murmurs.

The word makes you open your eyes. The first thing you register is how warm it is – Mingyu’s big body is radiating heat like a furnace, intensified by how snugly he’s holding you against him. So you gently ease off his side and sit up, brushing a kiss over his cheekbone before heading to the bathroom.

You’re a wreck, your hair a knotty mess, in nothing but Mingyu’s tee. But your eyes — there’s something vibrant in them you haven’t seen in a while. There’s still a sizable amount of grief, a weight you doubt will ever fully be lifted, but you look happier.

You pull out one of the sweaters and a pair of jeans that Bora had packed for you and change, rolling your eyes at the lingerie still sitting in your bag. You’re just finishing up braiding your hair when Mingyu sits up. “Hey, sexy,” he calls across the room into the bathroom, his morning voice low and raspy.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling with the ease only he brings out of you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really well,” he says, standing up and stretching. Then he comes into the bathroom with you, wrapping his thick arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to the base of the back of your neck. “I love you.”

You lean into his touch and let the joy sweep over you. “Good,” you say firmly. “I love you too, Mingyu.”

“I like the braids,” he says, looking at you both in the mirror, slouching to rest his head on your shoulder. “They’re really cute.”

“Thanks.”

“Maybe I can learn to do them on Sara,” Mingyu says, letting go of you and stepping into his own room and grabbing new clothes.

You shamelessly watch him as he strips out of his pajamas. “Maybe,” you murmur as he turns, shirtless, and catches you staring.

He grins. “You’re watching me change? Creep,” he teases.

So you make your slow way up to him, stopping just in front of him and sliding a hand from his abs up his chest. “Can’t help it,” you say lightly, watching in satisfaction as his cinnamon skin becomes a mess of goosebumps under your fingers. “You’re irresistible.”

He gives a grumpy sigh. “You better stop, or Sara’s gonna have to wait a couple more days before she sees either of us,” he says, and you are endeared to see that he’s blushing. Mingyu knew the effect you had on him, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to rebuff you when you’re standing there with the morning light streaming in, lighting up your eyes, dragging your warm fingertips across his chest slowly and deliberately like you just want to savor him.

His words make you frown, but he gives a light chuckle and kisses your forehead. “Don’t worry,” he reassures you. “We’ll have plenty of time for just us. I’ll make sure of it.” He pulls on his shirt and his sweatpants, then grabs your hand. “Now let’s go see our little girl.”

Your face hurts from smiling so wide, and at this statement, your heart explodes.

***

Aside from all the I-told-you-so’s, the transition from a working relationship to a dating relationship with Mingyu was simple, easy, and absolutely painless.

He still came over every day. But now Sara watched as you kissed him goodbye in the morning on your way to work. She didn’t seem confused at all by the change, nor did she notice that more and more often Mingyu stayed the night at your house. In her mind, Uncle Googoo was always welcome. It was as natural as breathing.

Maybe it was because you were still doing all of the same things you always did – you’d just added a few. Mingyu had always fit so seamlessly into your life. The two of you were happy, Sara was content, your friends were thrilled – Bora and Wonwoo especially, although Chan also took partial credit – and everything seemed perfect.

And then something shifted, just a tad. It was about a month after you became official. Mingyu spent a bit of time every night searching things up on his laptop. Occasionally, he spent a few minutes outside on the phone, never giving a direct answer when you asked who he’d been talking to.

He never acted off – he was still as affectionate (and insatiable for your body) as ever, so you weren’t nervous he was seeing someone else. Your first concern was that he was shopping for wedding rings. As smitten as you were with him, you worried that was a bit soon for two people who’d only been dating a month (although, admittedly, you’d already filled up a Pinterest board with ideas for the eventual wedding you hoped for). But then, after about two weeks, one of the phone calls comes while Mingyu is making dinner and you’re upstairs in Sara’s room trying to locate her hairbrush, and he can’t suppress a whoop of excitement.

“I need you,” he calls, and you respond by jogging down the stairs with concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, I just have some news.” He carefully removes the pan from the stove and comes over to you, pulling you into his arms.

“What is it?” you ask, your hand coming up to touch his cheek.

“They caught him,” he says simply.

“Who, baby?” you ask, confused.

“The guy who hit your sister’s car,” he explains.

Your jaw drops. “What?”

“I’ve been working on it,” he admits. “I have some friends on the force, and a couple of informants leftover from my days as an agent. Someone knew someone who knew the car, and they knew the person who used to drive the car, and it turns out that the parking lot where it was abandoned had security cameras. He’s right there on camera, literally fifteen minutes after the accident. They arrested him two hours ago.”

You are speechless. Mingyu lifts you into his arms, and you bury your face in his neck. “Oh, thank you,” you say through tears when you can finally speak. “So that’s what you’ve been up to.”

“What did you think I was doing?” he asks.

“I literally thought you were looking at wedding rings.”

He laughs. “No,” he says. “Not yet.”

You hear the promise in his voice and know that the future is going to be better than you ever imagined – just like the present is.

#svt #svt fic #svt creator #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu smut #kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu x reader #svt mingyu #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu fanfic #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #and so ends the tale of manny Kim mingyu

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thought--bubble · 4 months

Text

Breakin You In

Will (Salad Days ) X (Rich Girl Reader)

Warnings After The Cut

Will Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

A/N: This was purely self-indulgent. I absolutely LOVE Will. Everything about him is chefs kiss so I legit imagined this scenario (Might need therapy IDK) so I thought I would share some of my crazy.

Warnings:: Smut, Virginity loss, Drinking,

You are a good girl. That's what your friends called you. It's what your parents boasted about you, how your older brother teased you. A good girl. Great student, great grades comes from a great two parent household with a daughter son and a family dog. All the perfect ingredients for you to grow up into some successful adult and achieve all the things your parents have planned for you.

But at 18 freshly graduated with one last summer before uni you were ready to rebel and you knew exactly how you wanted to do it. Your friends all came from the same area. A well off nice area just outside of Derby filled with nice homes with nice cars in the driveways, but when they wanted a little fun they knew where to find the real parties, the parties where everyone went wild happened down in Derby proper.

The kids down there might be broke, come from broken homes or bad situations but one thing they did know was how to have fun and your friends loved to venture down there, and as long as they showed up with a wallet full of cash they were welcomed with open arms.

You had joined them on a few of these excursions before. Usually the designated driver. It was your responsibility to make sure all of your friends made it home and did so in one piece. Which you always did. because you, you are a good girl.

But tonight, tonight was going to be different. Tonight was the night you were going to catch his eye instead of being the invisible observer. All those times you had gone to these parties sipped on water and watched everyone have fun there was one person in particular you always kept your eyes on.

And that someone was named Will. He was handsome, as gorgeous as he was tall, with ocean blue eyes, shaggy blonde hair and a swagger that had you swoon, and every time you went to these outings, a different girl on his arm. sometimes it would be someone you knew, other times someone you didn't recognize, but never the same person and always someone dressed up and clearly looking for fun, and the worst part? Never you.

You, usually in a jumper and jeans hair down with a beanie on have never so much as caught him glancing at you, which is something you were determined to change tonight.

Your best friend Ashley is the assigned designated driver tonight and is fully aware of your plan. She was shocked at first but then decided she wanted to help. So she came to your house early with some clothing options for you to look through.

"you sure this doesn't look absolutely ridiculous?" you ask while checking yourself out in the mirror.

You are wearing Ashley's skin tight black mini dress. You aren't as curvy as Ashley but you had some feminine curves and this dress was definitely built specifically to show them off.

"You look like a snack" she winks at you. "but we have to do something about the shoes you can't wear runners"

"I know, I went out and bought two pairs of shoes today because i knew I wouldn't fit into any of yours" You hold up a pair of chunky Mary Janes and a pair of Chunky healed ankle boots.

"I was hoping for..... something a little more pointy.... but the boots should suffice" Ashley grabs the boots from your hand turning them over "Yeah, these are actually pretty cute"

"You got the stockings?" Ashley asks while wiggling her eyebrows.

"Yes I just don't understand how exactly these are supposed to stay up on my legs?" you hold the sheer black thigh high stockings you had bought at the store today as Ashley had suggested.

"You snap them into this" She holds up a black silky garter belt and you swallow.

"Right, obviously," you chuckle nervously as you take the belt and buckle it into place under the dress and over the small black lace thong you also purchased today.

"Ok" you release a deep sigh and shake your limbs. "Let's go"

The entire ride down to the city, you are wracked with a mixture of nervous and excited energy your leg bouncing in the passengers seat.

"Calm yourself," Ashley rubs your knee. "You look incredible.... if he don't go after ya he's blind"

She pulls up down the street from the dingy old flat, and you can already hear the music playing as you step out of the car.

Ashley holds your hand, your other friends Sasha and Katheryn trailing behind.

"time for your entrance" Ashley teases.

"What do i do?" you ask as she laughs.

"You just walk in the look will do all the heavy lifting"

There are a few people hanging out front smoking cigarettes, they briefly nod as you and your friends pass.

Then you walk in, the air is hot and the smell of alcohol fills the room. People are laughing a few dancing a couple or two kissing on the couch or against the wall.

You squeeze Ashley's hand tightly. "Lets just get you a drink yeah?" she drags you through the crowded room as your eyes flit about looking for him, and you find him easily enough. Sitting with his friends a whiskey in hand laughing about something or other. No girl on his arm. Not yet, it's still early. Not that you would let that stop you tonight.

you reach the kitchen table that is set up with some plastic cups and random bottles of booze. A cup in the middle of the table stuffed with cash. Its known if you're one of the rich kids you are expected to put some money in this cup when you come.

You take out some cash and jam it into the cup.

"Awe the pretty ones don't have to pay" You turn to see one of Will's close friends Tom smiling at you. You know he is one of his closest friends because they always stand around together before will finds his girl of the night.

"That's ok I don't mind" you smile at him as Ashley pours you a drink.

"You been out here before? Don't think i've seen ya" he questions as he moves slightly closer.

"Been here a few times yeah" You take the drink from Ashley.

"Obviously she's been her before ya knob" Will interrupts putting his hand on Tom's shoulder "Just usually aint drinkin" he gives you a sly smile as he leans over the table taking the whiskey bottle towards him to refill his cup.

You blush hard the corners of your mouth raising even though you are desperate to play it cool.

Tom catches this and rolls his eyes. "That would be the way of it"

You look at him confused while Will just chuckles.

Ashley leans into you whispering into your ear "I'll be in the main room by the door if you need me"

You look at her bewildered this is exactly what you wanted but now that you are about to be left alone with him you have gone into full panic mode.

"So what's changed then?" He asks as Ashley passes by him making her way from the area.

"W-w-what?"

"well, your drinkin" he motions to the cup in your hand. "You've.... changed your style up a bit" he raises his eyebrows and smirks. "so.... what's changed?"

"I... Ummm " you can't think of anything to respond to that with that wouldn't sound stupid, but begin to panic when you realize that stuttering also sounds stupid.

He chuckles and walks closer to you cup in hand. "Why's the quiet good girl dressed up like a bad girl tonight?.... you got plans? Something...." he moves right up next to you and whispers "New you wanna try?"

You feel a chill run down your spine. "C'mere i'll show ya how to have fun" his hand slides into yours and he winks and pulls you toward the roar of the party, and just like that for tonight you're the girl his arm is around while he's laughing with his friends. You're the girl sitting on his lap while he plays cards, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

Finally it's you, and you are eating up every moment, as he stands in a circle with his friends, his arms around your midsection his head resting on your shoulder you feel satisfied. The alcohol coursing through your veins and his breath on your neck as he talks and laughs. The sporadic kisses he places on your neck and shoulder in between talking. Everything about this night has been perfect.

"Hey" he whispers rubbing his nose against the shell of your ear. "Come upstairs with me" Your eyes go wide and your stomach flips. You're filled with nerves but, these are the best kind of nerves so you nod your head and he smiles.

He wraps his arm around your shoulder pulling you from the group as they continue talking Tom shooting will a knowing glance. Will doesn't acknowledge this look, keeping his gaze locked on you.

He takes your hand and gently guides you upstairs as Ashley watches you go from her place leaning against the wall in the main room. A small smile on her face accompanied by a look of shock.

She didn't think you would actually do it and honestly you really didn't think you would either but here you are your hand in his as he leads you up the stairs of this dingy place, of whom you don't even know who the owner is but you follow him anyway. You follow him with a smile on your face and a chest burning with anticipation. Any thoughts of turning around and going back downstairs vanish when he turns around and gives you that smile. The smile you have dreamed about, the smile you thought could never be yours but for tonight, just for tonight, that smile is for you and you will hold on to it for as long as the night allows.

When you reach the landing your legs start to shake and he chuckles as he brings you into a nearby bedroom and closes the door.

"i've got the good girl upstairs all by herself..... what am I to do now?" he smiles as he walks closer to you. You swallow, your eyes are wide and your body is trembling and you want him to do whatever it is he wants.

he wraps one arm around your back and pulls you to him sliding his other hand up the back of your neck and into the base of your hair.

"What are you thinkin sweetheart?" he asks as he gently rubs his nose against your cheek. You breath in sharply at a complete loss for words.

"I.. I... ummm" your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, "I've ummm... never done this before"

He chuckles as he guides you towards the bed walking you backwards.

" I guess i'm breakin you in then, aren't i darlin?" He lays you back on the bed and clicks his tongue.

"Such a good girl.... and i've got you all to myself"

He crawls on top of you grabbing one of your thighs and pulling it up to his hip as he brings his lips down on yours in a gentle sweet kiss.

You smile into the kiss and he pushes himself against you. "Never thought I would get you up here" he whispers.

"Never thought you even saw me" you say as you lean up to kiss him again but he pulls back.

"Course i saw you. All beautiful standing there alone." he kisses you slow and sensually the soft click of your mouths the only noise in the room. "Thought to myself, that girl is out of my league. Too smart, Too pretty, too ... good" He kisses you again pressing his body up against you with more pressure.

You grip the back of his neck pressing your lips harshly to his. he pulls back slightly and chuckles. "But if you're looking to be bad tonight.... then i'm your man"

he slides his hand down between your legs pushing your thong to the side and you shiver. as he starts to gently and slowly rub your pearl you moan quietly.

"That's a good girl" he whispers as he nibbles your cheek. He slides a finger into you while rubbing your pearl with his thumb. "So very good" he breathes heavily while you arch your back. The intense pleasure washes over you like a tidal wave. He slides a second finger in and speeds up his pace.

"Please, Please" You don't even know what you are asking for but whatever it is you know you want it and that he can give it to you.

"Oh don't worry darlin, i got you" He quickens his pace again his other hand under your back steadying you and you ride out the sensation.

"Oh, holy - ahh" You open your eyes wide and gasp and you are absolutely rocked by an explosion of pleasure unlike any other you have ever provided to yourself.

he looks down at you will a smile and a chuckle. "Mmmmm.. still such a good girl" he takes out a condom and quickly gets it on positioning himself between your thighs.

"Hold onto me, I promise i'll take it slow" in a daze you nod and grab onto his shoulders as he pushes into your core. it feels like a lot of pressure not exactly pleasurable but not painful.

he growls and bites his bottom lip "fuccccck ..... That's fucking magnificent"

he pushes in slowly until your hips are pressed together. He bites gently at your neck "You ok?"

"Yeah" you struggle to get the words out ass the discomfort starts to fade being replaced with a feeing of fullness.

He starts to move in and out gently. "this o-o-ok?" he says between labored breaths.

"Yes" you sigh the fullness making way for a pleasurable feeling, that feeling building with each gentle buck of his hips.

"So good.. You are so fucking good." he nibbles at the tip of your ear as his pace becomes more regular and his breathing heavier.

"Your so good" you moan back at him.

"No i'm not, but i'll steal something good even if it's just for the night" he pistons his hips into you gradually getting faster and faster. That feeling from before building in your stomach once again.

That feeling builds and builds as he moves faster and faster holding your hips tightly. "give me one more. One more to remember" he demands as his hips slam into yours with purpose. "Be my good girl"

Your legs tense around him like a vice holding him in place, as your eyes roll back in your head a feeling of Euphoria and endorphins flowing into every crevice of your being.

"Good girl.." he grunts and slams into you harder gripping you tight "Good fucking girl!". His thrusts get sloppy and desperate. "Fuck! So fucking....." he grunts loudly and then stills dropping his head onto your chest. he keeps his eyes closed head down but runs his fingers along your cheeks.

"You're so good" He whispers barely loud enough for you to hear it. The two of you lay there for what feels like hours but must have only been about 20 minutes. You make your way back downstairs on unsteady legs.

"Oh the classic walk of shame" Ashley muses as she watches you descend. You give her an annoyed look and the middle finger as you hear Will chuckle from behind you.

"You ready to go?" Ashley asks

"Yeah in just a couple minutes" you respond pushing some hair behind your ear. Ashley nods and walks off no doubt to find Sasha and Katheryn Sasha and Katheryn. Will takes your hand and walks you outside lighting a cigarette.

"You're off to some fancy university in Autumn aren't ya?" he asks looking unbothered as he flicks his cigarette.

"Imperial College" You smile at him as he looks away.

"Makes sense" he nods gently.

Ashley and the girls come out heading toward the car Ashley waving you over.

Before you go to her you place one last kiss on his lips and smile. then walk off to join Ashley and the girls. Will stands there just watching you walk away smoking his cigarette in thought.

"another one to add to the list then?" Tom joins him in his cigarette while nudging his shoulder.

"Nah mate she's far too good for the list" Will says voice low and serious.

"You'll see her again then?" Tom says slightly shocked.

"Nah, i'm not quite good enough for that" he looks away. "I'm gonna call it a night mate" Tom nods at Will as he leaves and starts his walk home.

In the car on your way back home Sasha and Katheryn are in the back seat drunk and giggling. Ashley turns and grabs your knee giving it a little shake.

"You can finally drop that good girl title huh?" she laughs

You stare out the window hair a mess and still in a daze.

"Nah..... I'm still a good girl"

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#ewan mitchell verse #will salad days fic #will salad days fanfic #will salad days #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan nation #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #jess fics #my emo angsty bf

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years

Text

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Dilf! Cowboy! Peter Parker x Innocent! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Coming home for the summer back to the farm had it's perks. One of them being, you get to help out the owner of the ranch next door, Peter Parker. As they say- save a horse, ride a cowboy.

Warnings: thigh riding, over stim, BREEDING KINK, pet names, sir kink, praise kink, dumbification kink, degradation kink, tit play, smut implied, choking, cum feeding, teasing, swearing, yelling & booze mentioned ( readers father gets drunk & mad), age gap ( reader is mid 20s, peter is 40s), i let all my daddy issues shine through with this one yall, saddle up!!

Notes: "you're in the wind, i'm in the water- nobody's son, nobody's daughter... watching the chemtrails over the country club" - lana del rey, chemtrails over the country club

The caw of the rooster woke you every morning.

You didn’t have the luxury of an alarm clock, the blaring red numbers and constant blaring every five seconds being replaced with the trickle of the sunrise through your dainty lace curtains, the weight of your dog Harley jumping on your legs.

You didn’t mind.

It was a nice change from the sound of the bustling streets, the yelling of people down below mixed with the consistent sirens.

You loved your little apartment in the city, your roommate always providing you with comfort and kind words with a side of her jasmine tea.

But you had missed home.

You missed breathing in fresh, clean air, the soft breeze that would sway through the willow trees by the creek. You missed the feeling of the warm sunlight beating on you as you sat in the pasture with the cows, often sketching them while your father would yell at you to feed them, not just give them therapy sessions.

You could already hear their mooing from by the barn, causing you to sit up with a stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you scrambled out from under the sheets.

An extra pep was in your step as you scurried down the hall to the washroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face in record time.

Today was the day.

You braided your hair in little pigtails, wrapping little pink bows to finish them off, smiling at your reflection in the mirror.

Today, you'd be seeing Mr. Parker again. Mr. Parker was your neighbour, the owner of the ranch right next to your farm. Your father had introduced him to you the second you had hauled in your suitcases in the door for the summer, and you nearly had fallen to your knees right then and there.

He was a living Adonis, his boyish smile making your face heat more than the stale summer heat outside.

I offered you up to help Mr.Parker this summer Y/N. His boys left the ranch to settle in the city before their first year at University.

Now typically, you hated when your father did this. This, little thing where he’d offer you around to the villagers like carol songs on Christmas, announcing that’d you'd be helping them with chores, without charge.

Of course, you couldn't just say no- being rude was not in your nature. But it irked you to no end when you’d have to scrub Mrs. Dorris's endless pile of dishes, or when you were forced to shovel manure on Mr. Hill’s barn with a smile plastered on your face.

But this wasn't Mrs. Dorris, and sure as hell wasn't Mr. Hill. This was Mr. Parker.

I’ll go easy on ya darlin. he had said with a wink, when the look of surprise was stunned upon your face at your father's words. Your heart had fluttered, hands went clammy as your fidgeted with your sundress. The thought of him and the words that rolled off his tongue had you smiling, a blush staining your cheeks as you ran back to your bedroom, slipping on the prettiest shirt you owned, and a pair of jeans that hugged your curves like a glove.

A basket filled with fresh berries and slices of homemade bread you had prepared last night was wrapped in flannel linen as you kissed your father on the cheek, and rushed out the door.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come in!” the husky voice called in response to your soft knocking on the oak door, sending shivers down your spine as you creaked it open, peeping your head inside. The sight had you nearly falling to your knees, the basket near slipping from your fingers.

You had walked in on him buttoning up the last of his white dress shirt, his beautiful, calloused hands adjusting the silver watch at his wrist. There was no ring on his finger, you noted.

Part of you hated yourself for feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you at the bareness of his hands, the other side encouraged it.

It was agony, wanting this man. You knew deep down, it probably wasn't right, him being a little younger than your father. Yet you couldn't stop the feelings you felt, no matter how much you tried to repress them back down. They bubbled to the surface, with every smile he gave you, with every word that spilled from his lips.

“Hello, love.” he smiled, bringing your attention up to his soft, brown eyes, the sunlight shining on them, turning them caramel.

“Hello sir.” you smiled softly placing the basket of goodies on the table, clasping your hands together. As if your inner conscious knew if you didn't, you'd reach out to touch the living artwork of the man, running your fingers down the planes of his shoulders, across his sharp jawline, through the strands of his silky hair from under that damn hat…

“Are those for me darlin’?” he asked, tugging you out of your daydream. “They're from Daddy's bushes outback… I picked some yesterday. The bread I made last night.” you blushed, watching as he popped a raspberry in his mouth.

Juices stained his fingers, in which you watched him suck them clean, his eyes boring into yours the entire time, gaze mischievous.

You gulped.

“You shouldn't have love. You’re too sweet.” he winked, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows as he brushed past your frame. “You give little treats to everyone darlin?” he asked, eyebrow raised as he held the door open, nudging for you to step back outside with him.

You obeyed.

“Only the ones I like.” you teased, earning a laugh from him. It was your new favourite sound, you decided, as light and airy as the birds who chirped from the branches of his oak trees.

“I’m honoured, sweetheart.”

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Mr. Parker stood true to his word, of course. He did go easy on you.

Not once did you lift a finger, as much as you offered to. He just shooed you off with a smile, saying today was an “introduction day”.

You were given a tour of his property, its beautiful pasture and meadows appearing like a painting in your mind. You couldn't help but smile as you watched some horses gallop in the meadow, their manes blowing in the gentle breeze as the grass swayed. It was stunning here. All seven hundred acres of it.

From the little apple trees that bloomed white in the spring to the creek that stretched to the back of his property, you never wanted to leave here. Especially if Mr. Parker would be here.

The day was drawing near, the afternoon heat diminishing as he took you around his barn, showing you all the horses that nicked in their stalls. You’ll mostly be helping out here, if that's alright darlin. Just keeping them fed, watered, clean and maybe even on some rides while I get stuff done out back. He had told you as you scratched a pinto mare's forehead lovingly, laughing as he snorted at you.

“I saved the best for last.” he teased, leading you to very last stall. A gorgeous chestnut mare poked its head out from the opening, it’s doe eyes wide as it took you in.

“This is Layla. She’s truly something.” Sure enough, a golden plate with Layla was underneath her long neck, glimmering brightly as the sunlight trickled through the open doors. “She's beautiful.” you gasped, placing your hand out for her to sniff.

“Layla’s the first horse I ever bought. Don't let her age fool you though, she runs as fast as the greens our back.” he joked, scratching her neck gently. ��She seems very friendly.” you nodded, your heart seeming to triple three sizes as she nudged Peter's body, as if to say- more attention on me please!

“Oh she's a sweetheart. She's my good girl, aren't you Layla? Such a good girl.” he cooed, patting her neck.

The barn suddenly became hot, the sticky afternoon heat reappearing as your cheeks flushed. Such a good girl.

Those four words alone had you keening, causing you to chew on your cheek as you clenched your thighs together, kicking little pebbles as a means to calm down.

Those words weren't sexual. They were not intended for you. So why did it feel like it was?

You wanted to slap yourself silly for thinking this way, taking something so innocent and contorting it into… whatever this was. The dampness in your panties increased as he turned his attention towards you, a grin on his face.

Almost as if he knew. Almost as if he could see right through you.

“So does that sound okay then love? Lookin after them?” You nodded, following suit after Peter as he turned on his heel, heading back out the main doors. “Good. Wanna make sure you're comfortable here, okay?”

“Yes Mr. Parker. Thank you, um, for showing me the ropes and stuff today.” you blushed. “Of course darlin’. And-” He stopped you with the gentle touch of his hand, the feeling warm against your goosebump ridden skin.

“Don't be afraid to come over after hours okay? If you need anything at all, I’m here.” His eyes bore into yours, the softness they portrayed making you hypnotised.

You would do anything this man asked of you. You'd come over every day, every night, every hour if that's what Peter wanted.

“Thank you sir. You’re too kind.” The fact his grip tightened slightly at your words didn't go unnoticed by you. Nothing ever did, when it involved him. “Have a good evening darlin’.”

It was going to be a very, very long summer indeed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“YOU RUIN EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH GIRL!” Your fathers' cruel voice and the sound of the glass hitting the floor echoed, his whisky coating the floor with its bitterness had you running for the door with a cry.

Your vision was blurry as you sniffled, tears making your eyes red and puffy as you sobbed. The door slammed behind you with a thud, your legs carrying you as fast as they could down the steps and to the driveway.

You needed out.

You needed away from this house, and your fathers booze stained breath. His temper raged when he drank, and that was many times this week.

Many, many times.

The cool air soothed your heaving lungs, the cicadas buzzing under the moon distracting the buzzing in your brain. You couldn't think of anywhere else to go but, well… Peters.

The offer he had given you the first day of your time on the ranch blazed in your memory like a wildfire, his soothing voice numbing the pain.

You wanted to see him.

The idea of his soft embrace and charming smile sent your feet running down the driveway, down the road and to his house. You prayed the offer still kept. You had worked for Peter nearly every day this summer, and when you didn't work, you still often dropped by to give him little treats and pastries.

It was too late to second guess yourself any longer as you clambered over the closed gate, lock and chains jangling as you jumped down. Cursing yourself for wearing a little lace nightgown, you made your way down the long driveway.

There was dim lighting from behind his curtains, and you were thankful he wasn't asleep. The guilt that would wash over you if he was would never leave. You made your way up the front porch steps, rattling on his door quietly, The curtains shuffled as he made his way to the door, creaking it open slowly.

“Y/N? Darlin are you okay?” he asked gently, a look of concern on his face as he shooed you in. “I know its late, Mr. Parker sir but I just…”

You burst out into tears, hands covering your face as you cried. You felt his large frame wrap around you in a comforting embrace, swaying you side to side in his arms.

“Shhh, shh its okay love. Just let it out, atta girl.” he cooed softly, stroking your hair in a soothing manner as you gripped his shirt like your life depended on it.

“M’so sorry sir.” you sniffled, rubbing your nose as he lead you over to the couch. “Hey, never ever apologise honey. I told you that you could over anytime, did I not?”

You nodded softly, glancing up to meet his gaze. “Exactly. Can you tell me what happened love?”

His voice was so rich, so smooth and dreamy you never wanted him to stop talking. Each word was a note from a symphony, blending together in perfect harmony. You trusted him. More than anything, you trusted him. Which is why you told him everything.

“Dad was drinking again and he- he started getting mad again. Throwing stuff and yellin, blaming me for things I- I have no control over.” you sniffled, his palm cupping your cheek as he whipped your stray tear with his thumb.

“Oh honey I’m so sorry. That's not very nice of him is it?” You shook your head. “He’s being so cruel to you angel. But I’m so proud of you for coming over, you did the right thing.” he whispered, kissing your forehead tenderly.

You felt your heart thud madly in your chest, its beat in sync with the cantering stallions in the barnyard. His skin smelt of oak as he drew you even closer to him, sliding your body across his lap. There was nearly no space between the two of you now, but you didn't care.

Peter was here now.

He’d take care of you.

“He’s always telling me mean things, it makes me cry. I don't like to cry very much Mr. Parker.” you whispered, the throbbing in your core becoming more prominent as he began to bounce his knee.

Up down, up down.

You hiccuped softly as his hand came to rest on your thigh, tracing circles gently against your skin. It was comforting. You liked it, more than you should have.

“Tears can be pretty sometimes sweetheart. Happy tears, for instance.”

“But these aren't happy ones sir.” you smiled weakly, watching as his hand inch up your thigh. “I know sweetheart. We should do somethin about that eh? Get you feeling all better?” he purred.

You nodded, too dumbstruck for words as his hand resumed its hitch hiking, making its way closer to your soaking clothed cunt from under your nightgown.

Oh god.

“W-what are you doing sir?” you asked meekly as his fingers gently traced the cloth, making you shiver, the pulsing of your clit near unbearable as he teased.

“Oh darlin, I’m making it all better, see?” he pouted, slowly adjusting you so you sat straddled across his thigh. “But Mr. Park-”

“Shhh, darlin. Its just me, its your Peter.” he shushed you, hands tracing the curves of your hips, running up and down as he watched your nipples pebble from under the soft nightgown. He could sense the worry on your face as you chewed on your lip, looking up at him softly.

You wanted this. More than anything you wanted this. But deep down, you knew it was a bad idea, getting mixed up with your employer.

But weren't the bad ideas always the best ones?

“I see those thoughts runnin in that pretty head of yours baby. Little girls like you don't need to think, they need to be taken care of. And I’m gonna take care of you okay? I’ll give you everything you need, everything to make you feel better.” he cooed, tugging on a curl that had fallen from behind your ear as you swallowed, nodding.

He was right. Peter was always right, you knew this.

“Yes sir.” you whispered, eager to please the man. “God when you call me that darlin you drive me wild. Make me so god damn hard and you don't even know it, you silly girl.” he mocked, eye brow raised as he squeezed your cheeks together.

“Makes me wanna bend you over and stuff you full of cum, till your drippin. Makes me wanna spank your ass red, till you're a blubbering mess. But I can’t do that, can I sweetheart? That'd be too cruel for my innocent lil girl.” Peters grip made its way down to your neck, closing firmly around your neck, making you gasp.

“Mr. Parker I need-”

“Ah ah ah..” he clucked his tongue, watching your doe eyes widen. “I know what you need darlin. I always know what you need.”

Any thoughts from your brain has left, your body and mind solely given to use for Peter in whichever way he wanted. You wouldn't be surprised if drool dribbled out of your mouth with the way you were under his trance, your gaze fully focused on his full blown pupils.

“Yes sir.” you speculated, smiling as his dimples showed. You were making him happy. “Good girl. Now you're gonna ride my thigh yea? Then I’m gonna fill you with cock until you're fucked stupid.”

You found yourself nodding, his grip on your hips tightening as you began to rut your hips against his thigh, the denim feeling delicious against your clit. “Mghmm.” you moaned, rolling your head back as he guided you slowly against his bouncing knee.

“You’d like that huh? My dumb lil darlin, stuffed full.” he teased, country drawl even heavier as he watched you in delight. The praise and degradation was making your head spin, your bones turned to mush as you rode him.

There was a fire in your veins, a simmering in your core that continued to burn with each rise and fall of his knee, with each gentle kiss and lick he placed on your collarbone.

It ached. It ached more than anything.

“I know it aches honey, but you gotta be a good girl and take what I give you.” he murmured against your skin, moaning as you slid your hands up through his hair, tugging.

The brown, honeyed strands were as silky and smooth as you thought they'd be, perfect reins for you to hold onto. “Been wanting you so badly sir please!” you cried, your slick coating his jeans as you slid your hips.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

It was addicting, the way he was making you feel without truly touching you. “Oh honey I know. I’ll just have to ruin you for all those boys at college won’t I?”

He was toying with you, a cat chasing its dinner. You were the mouse. And you were perfectly fine with that.

“Please!” you gasped, pulling on his scalp as he leaned down to suck on your breasts through the lace of your dress. “Mmm. By the time I’m done with ya darlin, these will be full of milk. Gonna fuck you r-right.” he stuttered as you tugged on his his hair, arching your back to provide better access as he licked and sucked. He bit down on your nipple, tugging at his teeth as you screamed his name.

You were shattering. You were floating, a simple atom floating with the stars as you came, toes curling from the sensations. You never wanted to stop.

You never wanted him to stop.

No one had ever made you feel this way, had made you orgasm so hard your eye rolled back to your brain…

“That’s a good girl. Such a good baby.” he praised, his gentle voice snapping you back to realty as he brushed his lips against your soft, warm skin.

“M’so good. So so good…” you trailed off, sleepy smile on your face as he slid his hand down to the wet patch on his pants, smearing your juices on his fingers.

“Open up darlin.” he hummed, winking as you stuck your tongue out, lapping up your cum from his fingers like a kitten drinking its milk.

“My good girl.” `

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vaspider · 1 month

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If it's true that every 7 years, the cells in your body "turn over," so that you are physically not the same person, then as of... about a month ago, I think?... not one cell of me remains that has played on a MUSH.

I am so happy for the friendships and the loves that remain. I wish I'd left that ... incredibly toxic community... behind long before I did. It feels like no coincidence that so many people I know blossomed creatively once they made a clean break. (Hell, my anger over the queerphobia that made me quit my last MUSH is what pushed me to slap my imposter syndrome in the head & submit the writing sample that led to every RPG project since.)

It is obvious in retrospect - and with lots of therapy and working through shit - that remaining in a community that toxic was, in the end, a form of self-harm. That's not an easy thing to think your way through, but once you do, it leads to freedom. (And being there surely did not make me the best version of myself, either. Boy howdy.)

Anyway. If you're in a situation that you know you need to walk away from & you've been dragging your feet, well, here's your sign, I suppose. 7 years on, I've realized a ton of my professional writing goals, written a full-ass novel, had an article published by Star Trek??, have a shelf full of RPG books with my name in the credits, own a successful business, came the rest of the way out, transitioned, and I'm living in my beautiful house in the People's Republic of Portland with my gorgeous wives, my daughter, and v cute dogs. A lot of that wouldn't have happened if I didn't detach the energy lamprey from the base of my skull.

So yeah. Whatever the energy lamprey you have is, detach it. Fling it away. You won't miss it *at all.*

#not rebloggable #bc some of those weirdos hate-follow me #fuck offfffffffff #:)

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enrosadiraanisaaa · 9 months

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Within Session .Part Three.

Hey there cuties, do not think I forgot about y'all! This fanfic consist of Yandere!Leon Kennedy. I intend for this fic to progressively become disturbing and fucked up with each chapter. While the first few chapters will be tamed, expect the following in this series:

~Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Breeding, Degradation, NonCon, Gang Banging, Forced Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Blackmail, Manipulation, Abuse, Pet Names, Obsessive Behavior (Duh), Torture, Constraints, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Mental Degradation, Toxic Relationship, Sexual Abuse, Masturbation, Drugged & Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Forced Penetration…

Also you will be retconned (Too bad 😏): Female Reader, 24 Years old and from Texas 💝

This story was purely written with RE 4 (Remake) Leon in mind. So no puppy dog Leon from RE2 or DILF Leon from later games & movies. The story takes place several months after the events of RE4. Yay, you’re in 2004!

I plan to make this series long and fleshed out, but I promise what you want will hit you like a train~🚂

This chapter does not contain any 🔞 material. This story will contain +18 content (NSFW) in the near future 🔞 If you’re a minor, please go read a real book or something, don’t cry to me when your mom finds your shit. This story will eventually hit that point so don’t set yourself up.

Summary

As an on sight therapist for STRATCOM in Nebraska, you’re tasked with providing quality therapy for US military personnel and government agents. After working at the headquarters for 6 months, Hunnigan recommends you to a notable government agent, Leon Kennedy, who is in need of therapy. After a number of sessions with you, Leon notices a substantial stability in his sanity yet is threatened when you are offered a position back home, closer to your family and friends. Your choice doesn’t sit well with one particular client, who can’t fathom you out of your role as his therapist. Leon has found a means of keeping his precious therapist and realizes you are the key to his permanent solace. You were obviously destined to be his in some form. Why dream of him letting you go?

A\N: I was heavily inspired by Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue 💙, ExploreVenus’s Something Permanent and Guardian Angel by NexysWorld. This chapter was oddly hard to write, especially writing out a session on a serious topic. Once I was writing, I kept writing so you might find this chapter to be long! Expect the next chapter to be out in two weeks!

Hope y'all enjoy the third part! More to come 💝~ Anisssa أنيسة

Here is Part One and Part Two of Within Session

Cleared Mirror

When Leon finally mentioned to Hunnigan his need for help, he did not expect immediate validation to improve his mental health. After the Raccoon City incident in 1998, the horrifying experiences that had cost him a normal life had embedded as an inevitable trauma. The grueling military training that followed after he was captured by the US government and forced to become a government agent to protect Sherry. The underlying hazing that he endured in boot camp tested his abilities and mental state beyond his capabilities, yet it was a period of time that distracted him. Then the recent mission to Spain to save the president’s daughter and his fight against Las Plagas of Los Illuminados seemed to weigh in after losing Luis and confronting Ada Wong after a number of years. His guilt was engulfing him at this point, so he looked forward to his first session with the referred therapist by Hunnigan.

However, when he did arrive at the office for the scheduled session at 5PM, he did not expect a young woman to be assigned his therapist. He noticed she was preoccupied with paperwork on her desk before he knocked on the doorway door to notify her that he had arrived. Once her awareness of him occurred, she stood up from her chair to greet him. Leon instantly notices her red attire with black heels, reminding him of a certain woman.

Without realizing it, Leon accidentally scrunches his face from the reminder. Even when you offer a seat on one of the chairs in front of your desk, a glare on his face remains for a moment. However, when Leon takes another glance at your face, he eases the features of his face, nearly dazed at the sight of your eyes and lips as you both sit across each other. For a moment he studies your facial features while you speak until a question from you returns him to reality. Leon blinks his eyes in realization and nods to the question, simply muttering,”Yes.”

His heart nearly flutters when you provide a reassuring smile while nodding your head,”That’s okay, let’s get started, Leon,” He hears you tell him.

By leaning over the chair, you reach over with one hand to retrieve paperwork clipped to a clipboard from the top of your desk. Leon patiently sits in silence across from you, curious of the next course of actions. With a swift flip of the papers attached to the clipboard, you reaffirm all the necessary documents before leaning over in the chair to hand the clipboard to Leon. Once Leon had the clipboard in his possession, he curiously skimmed through the pages while you spoke,” Alright Leon, we’re going to take the first 15 minutes to get through all this annoying intake paperwork. Essentially review HIPAA concerns, consent forms, and ethical guidelines. Afterwards, I will ask more questions regarding your background, then begin discussing your reasons for therapy and goals so we can formulate a treatment plan along our sessions. How does that sound?” You question him, provided with a gentle smile.

Leon follows with a head nod, content with the flow of the session.”Sounds good,” he immediately responds, eager to hear your voice more. Despite Leon never receiving treatment before, he was honestly impressed with your diligence.

With the reassurance from Leon, you proceed on explaining the following paperwork.”Also, please feel welcomed to ask me any questions, I want to ensure you’re not leaving here confused and that my skills are what you’re looking for in a therapist,” You sincerely express, shifting in the chair to cross your legs.

There were several questions that instantly came to Leon’s thoughts: ‘How old are you?’ and ‘Are you single?’

“The first page contains a HIPAA authorization form, basically entailing how your medical information is disclosed and your rights regarding your medical information…''You explain, leaning over the side of the chair again to snatch a pen from your desk. With the pen in hand, you lean over the chair to hand it to Leon,”So just write today’s date, your full name, date of birth, social security, check the boxes, and provide your signature. Please let me know if you have questions,” You breathe out, observing him as Leon fills out the worksheet in silence, hearing the scribbling of the pen on paper.

After a moment, Leon glances back up to you, signaling he was finished with signing this section of paperwork. In this moment, you provide a smile in reassurance,”Sweet, now we can continue to the next section, which is simply covering ethical guidelines between therapist and client. If you flip over to the next page, it will clarify all the different points. When you’re done reading, just sign at the bottom,” You advise him, sinking back into the chair as Leon flips and reviews the next page of ethical guidelines.

At this moment, several points mentioning friendship and gift exchange between client and therapist caught Leon’s attention. Therapists are legally required to maintain a professional relationship with their clients, thus can not accept gifts over a certain amount. Leon briefly glances at you, then instantly returns his sight to the paperwork on his lap. He would have to abide by these guidelines to receive treatment. With the pen in his hand, Leon inscribes his signature on the line at the bottom of the page along with writing the current date.

With all the paperwork finally reviewed and signed, this prompted you to clasp your hands together, instantly capturing Leon’s concentration from the paperwork on his lap up to you at the sudden noise,”Okay, we’re done with paperwork! You can set that on my desk, now we can finally get into why you’re here. I will ask a couple of questions, then you can tell me more about yourself, Leon,” You explain, your voice full of enthusiasm as you directly observe his blue orbs across the room. In response to your declaration, Leon nods his head.

By adjusting your throat, you then exhale before asking the first question: “Has your family or you have any history of substance abuse that is not limited to alcohol, illegal drugs, and abuse of medication?”

From across the room, you notice Leon shakes his head,”I am not sure about my family, but not me…”

To acknowledge him, you provide a subtle head nod to his response,”That’s okay if you don’t know. Another question: During your childhood, did you live any significant period of time with anyone other than your natural parents?” You question him, intently observing his expressions. Despite his file entailing he was an orphan, you needed more context.

There was a momentary pause from Leon at this question, his gaze elsewhere but you as he ponders this question. He then returns his gaze to you, nodding,” Yes. I was in the foster care system until I became 18 years of age. There was an incident in my family that I don’t have much recollection on…” He tries to clarify.

‘There was an incident?’ This thought comes to you, debating if this subject should be pressed on and explored. You veer your head to the clock on the wall, it was already 5:32PM. Session will be ending soon at 5:50PM and there is at least one important question left for Leon.

With another head nod, your lips form a smile to Leon,”We can explore that at another time if you like… My last question is: What has brought you to therapy and what goals do you want to accomplish?” To some, this inquiry might seem ridiculous, but this direct question was for clients to explore their reasoning to receive therapy.

An exasperated sigh escapes his mouth, tilting his head to the sides as it seemed he did not want to confess his sentiment. “Uh… I feel alone” He finally admits, his face expressionless.

“At what point in your life do you feel alone?” You inquired, keeping your tone serious to Leon’s response.

Over the span of his life, there were an absurd number of instances when he was abandoned by people. The initial example was during his childhood, when his family was massacred for unexplained reasons. He spent a considerate amount of years in the foster care system, unloved by blood. The girlfriend who broke off their relationship the night before he experienced the incident in Raccoon City. Hell, even when Claire Redfield deserted Sherry and him to search for her older brother after they barely survived that harrowing night together. Leon had to fend for Sherry when Claire had left them to the mercy of the US government. Then the infamous Ada Wong, who used him twice before vanishing without a trace. People were brief in his life, either from death or they left him.

Despite these prominent circumstances, how would he express some of these details without explaining an incident that was covered up and immensely classified. His hands and tongue were tied, he would have to brush over this portion of his life.

With several blink of his eyes, Leon considers other reasons for his lonesomeness. There was an uneasy feeling that swept over him due to the unsettling silence in the room. You were attentive for his answer.

“The nature of my job… I am too busy to involve myself in meaningful relationships,” Leon conjures, returning his gaze to those eyes that seemed too distant from him.

As Leon provides a response to your final question, you notice hesitation in his demeanor as if he is recollecting something traumatic. However, as a professional you can not dismiss his answer, but simply acknowledge him.

Since Leon was an agent of STRATCOM, no doubt that life threatening missions contributed to this sentiment. Similar among other agents and military personnel, coping with isolation and loneliness was common.

“Are there any particular aspects of your job that contribute to your feeling of loneliness?” You ask him in a sincere tone. With a quick glance at the clock on the wall, there were only a few minutes of session. Damm…

Leon noticed your glance to the clock on the wall, yet continued to speak,” People are temporary in my line of work…” He admits, noticing the hands of the clock were at 5:46pm.”Session is done already, huh?” Leon comments, returning his attention to you for confirmation.

A faint smile forms on your lips, nod slightly.”Unfortunately…but we can continue this subject next session..” You respond, standing from the chair to retrieve another clipboard from your desk, consisting of another signature page. “Before you leave, if I could get your signature. I did check your health insurance and it’s all good to go. They require a client signature to authorize that you received treatment today,” You inform him, offering the clipboard to him with both hands.

Leon stands from his seat, taking the clipboard with one hand while his other hand grasps the pen attached to the clipboard. After signing his signature at the bottom of the sheet, he returns the clipboard back into your possession with a faint smile on his lips.

You reciprocate the same faint smile on your face,”Alright Leon, it was a pleasure to meet you today. I really recommend writing any thoughts or topics you want to speak about in a small notebook for our sessions, that way you don’t forget… but other than that. You are free to go. I look forward to seeing you on Friday at 5PM. If you need to reach me for any reason, definitely reach me by email or my work number.” You mention, leaning on your desk.

With a nod from Leon, offering a cheeky grin,”Yes ma'am. I will see you on Friday then, stay warm...” He comments, noticeably glancing at your body up and down, implying your poor choice in your red attire. At those words, Leon turns around to exit your office, leaving you alone in silence.

This was definitely an interesting client, there was no doubt in Leon’s charisma and intellect.

#leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #re4 leon #leon x fem reader #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #within session #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon x reader #female reader

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susvale · 3 months

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M.I.A. Homelander X Reader X Steve Roger

Title: Missing In action

Pairings: Homelander X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader, Dark Steve x Reader, Dark Homelander x reader [Crossover]

Summary: You were an avenger, one of the more magic ones. People called your name in excitement and felt safe being around you, then thanos happened… when you weren’t snapped and after a police call you were somewhere else. Now all you know is there is a man with a cap calling himself Homelander calling himself “Americas Hero” and the world is different… is it isn’t so bad though.

I made this is 2022, It’s been sitting in my drafts for that long… so yeah!

[Part One] -> [Part Two]

It was overwhelming at times. Cameras in your face after a mission were you were left battered and bruised, nevertheless you smiled, you gave a proud smile to the reporters reporting. They had risked things coming here did it make your job harder, yes, the helicopters flying around while you try and fly. It added pressure to keep people in the air safe. At least you weren’t Steve, they made him do dumb shit, like that time he was in a Detention video spouting nonesense. You job was only to keep people safe. People may offer you movie rolls but you always decline, you weren’t an actor your a hero. Even if declining meant buying an okay-ish apartment with a broken Landry machine. You weren’t a millionaire, just a lady with the power to say “bang” and a mans head would explode if you wanted to. Even then, you had the option to live in Tony’s tower. Maybe then some random wouldn’t show up ever week looking to kill you. A sigh left your lips as you looked down at the TV, Thanos killed half the population and vanished. That is what’s in the News again. Men lost daughters, mothers lost sons but everybody lost someone. Even so it still stung he wouldn’t pick up your calls, you wanted to shout at him ‘your not dead yet and neither am I! stop ignoring me before one of those things change!’ Missions still came in, unsteady but they did come in.

“Maybe I should get a real job, part time.” You mumbled to yourself while you stared at the TV. Everyone you ever knew had distanced themselves or been snapped, maybe getting out would be good… people have been starting to expect that this is life, ‘maybe thanos was right my gym has been less crowded lately!’ Kinda people, jokes that might not be jokes anymore.

You still think about it, maybe he was right. It was horrible, you know. So many people lost and yet you didn’t lose anyone significant, Bucky of course but you were only just starting to get to know him… Steve maybe but you could still see him, feel him breathe, he didn’t get snapped. He was just distance, like he wished he did get snapped…

Witch hurt…

You didn’t have a family, friends outside of the avengers, hell you never had a boyfriend before Steve. How could you? Caged and trained like a dog, feed needles and pills like food. Given faces and names to quietly kill, you never had your own name till the avengers… Y/N… it was a nice name though. you named yourself off the first person you ever killed, you didn’t know if they would ever have agreed but they were dead… so it didn’t matter.

Steve and therapy, You remembered. Keep breathing don’t think about it. Or maybe it was think about it regret is good? Your therapist had been snapped so it’s been a while. The police called you once in and while about cases. Maybe answering back wouldn’t suck? You were lonely and bored, nothing to do then unsteady mission that lacked any sort of life.

Grabbing your phone you called a man. He was your contact to the police, you could never remember titles or anything like that but he was pretty high up.

“Thank god you called, you use to be so active I was starting to worry you got snapped too.” He joked, people cope with humor, you know that. Still, it irritated you that you and your friends put your life on the line and failed only to be joked about by people who didn’t know anything. Nevertheless, you gritted your teeth and held your tongue. “More and more people are disappearing. We think it may be an aftershock effect of some kind.”

“I doubt it.” You mumbled to yourself, he didn’t hear you and went on about the investigation. A group of people who agreed with Thanos’s ideals has been here and there, left and right. They think a select group talking it too far and hurting or making more people disappear. That sounded more likely, he told you about peoples corpses. Looked like they had been shot with high power lasers, or they’re heads have been smashed in. They had a certain person in custody, maybe if you worked with them you could find a way to undo the snap? That’s what the officer proposed anyway. You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, you would be their for the interview is what you told them.

You should call Steve. This looked like such an important case, he had to know people were making more people disappear… it could lead to something. He would want to know.

So you did call him. He didn’t answer, instead you were greeted by the all so familiar call after the beep speech. It was nicer then actually speaking to him nowadays, though. “Heya, it’s Steve. Leave a uh… voicemail..? After the beep? Did I do that right?” You’d hear him call to someone in the background, “yeah, other then forgetting what a voicemail was called.” You heard your own distant voice greet you, “Steve you have to-“ you were the last thing you hear as the beep signalled the end of the recorded ‘can’t get to you’ message.

A sigh left you when you realized you’d have to speak now, “Hey Steve, the police called me and they have a case of more disappearing people. A group of Thanos supporters popped up making even more people disappear.” You paused, “I think it’s something you’ll be interested in, might lead to something, heh… listen, I miss you, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. I… can’t…” your voice trailed off, you breathed in deciding not to do this over a call. “Anyway, call me when you get this. Can’t make it too long.”

That’s right. You couldn’t keep the police waiting… So you grabbed your bag and left. Off to the police station.“Hey, we put the suspect in the interrogation room.” The man spoke, he opened the door to a standard interrogation room. Blue walls, four barely cushioned chairs and a table in the middle closet to a wall. The suspect looked like a regular man. You frowned.

This all felt too… cultish? It made you uncomfortable, the look in his eye. He looked at you like you were a god among men.

#homelander #homelander x reader #steve rogers #captain america x Reader #cross over #avengers endgame #the avengers #the seven #the boys #marvel

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mediocreanomaly · 10 months

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Baby Fever with Trigun Boys!

Authors Note: I’ve been so obsessed with the Trigun baby post recently it’s been filling my head with thoughts, so here’s all the Trigun boys with if they would want kids + how many kids I think they’d have! (w Livio, Razlo, and Legato because they never get enough love 💔)

Trigger warning: hints of pocd in Legatos (his is at the very end so you can stop reading before his if it’s a sensitive subject)

Vash:

Would Vash want kids? Yes...eventually

•When he first thinks about having kids with you he’s over the moon excited but then the longer he thinks about it the more nervous he gets. He does want a baby but he already feels bad for dragging you along and putting you in danger, and he’s got a bit of a self loathing streak (he makes me so sad) so he’ll probably slow down and try to convince you to wait until he stops his brother to have a family

•The other thing is he’s also not even sure if it’s possible, plant and human hybrid??? it’s never been done, not that he’s not eventually down for trying

•Although once he gets it in his head that you want a baby with him he discovers a side of himself that he didn’t know existed until now, rest assured you won’t be leaving the bed anytime soon.

•If you get pregnant before Vash can stop his brother he might mope just a bit apologizing despite you not really being mad, but it doesn’t last long. Then he’s both super excited and super stressed! What do babies need? are you hot? cold? do you need him to carry you? need help reaching something? he’s there fussing over you like a mother hen

•If you get pregnant after he deals with Knives, then he’s a lot more eager right off the bat, excited to start a family after everything he’s been through (still a mother hen though)

•Vash 👏 has 👏twins 👏

•Two little girls to be exact! one for each arm, one for each parent! Double the cuteness!

• Vash is a very good dad, eager to raise his children the way he thinks Rem would want him to, plus he has you! They grow a bit faster than human children thanks to the plant genes but not nearly as fast as Vash and Nai grew up so luckily you guys get to still enjoy them being small

• As the twins grow up they are eerily similar to how Vash and Nai were as children. In fact Vash gets a bit nervous when his other little girl takes on so many personality traits of his older brother, he stresses about it a bit, not that he didn’t love Nai but he doesn’t want history to repeat itself. Luckily he has you by his side, every time he lets his thoughts run wild, he watches the way you so gently parent the twins...he takes a small breath of relief. He feels in a way...he failed his brother but this is different, this time it’ll be okay

Wolfwood:

Does he want kids? Yes 👍

•Wolfwood loves kids so it’s natural he’d want some of his own and especially if it’s with you

•Thing is slightly similar to Vash he’d be a bit reluctant to have kids right now. He’s got a lot on his plate and he also has a bit of a self loathing streak (Trigun boys x therapy) he isn’t sure he deserves to start a family with someone as good as you

•When you do start a family Nick goes from 0-100 real fast, and by that I mean he goes from being protective to guard dog mode 24/7 but can you blame him? He’s seen how dangerous the world is he’ll die before he let’s anything happen to you or his unborn child

•Your first kid is a little girl, one that grows up to be...a little too much like her father. Sarcasm is her default speech and she’s a little head strong, but very protective of her family

•Now I don’t see enough people talking about this but??? Wolfwood??? would for sure want to adopt a kid??? He grew up in an orphanage, so of course your second kid was adopted. As much as he loves your daughter he knows how much the kids at the orphanage need a good home, so you welcome in a little boy. One that's a bit timid and shy and reminds Wolfwood all too much of little Livio when he was young, safe to say it pulls on his heart strings

•The last kid is the baby! Your daughter and son are a bit older and the third was admittedly a bit of an accident, not an unwelcomed one, but not planned. Either way Nick is happy about it (plus he’s really good at taking care of babies) In all you tie off your happy little family with three kids (four if you count nick lol)

•Wolfwood is a good dad though. Also he’s the kids favorite, so expect to get jealous when after school all the kids run into his arms. Don’t expect condolences either, this man will look up at you, all the kids in his arms and give you the biggest shit eating grin too...the bastard.

Knives

Would he want kids? Yes if you take care of them lmao

•Okay so unlike Vash and Wolfwood, Knives sees himself as an apex, so he can protect you and his kids from anything, if he decides he wants kids he doesn’t feel the need to wait

•The only thing is...it’s cannon he’s got a thing for impregnation right? but you have to realize this is for Plants, plant children aren’t like human children (or in this case plant/human children?) they grown alot faster, understand alot quicker, and he’s not the most...nurturing guy in the world.

•So buckle up because you’ll be in charge of most the children's care! don’t worry too much though, if you ask for something he’ll provide it so you won’t ever need to stress about not having anything.

•During the pregnancy he’s fiercely protective over you, keeping you in his private wing in a plush bed. Only letting Legato help take care of you and Conrad whos in charge of your check ups

•Now honestly I’m not sure how many kids he’d have, so I see one of two options

•option one, an only child. One that he has you raise then begins to take more under his wing as he or she grows up. A child that's, in a way, the heir of everything Nai has built, one that will grow to be as strong as their father (with hopefully a bit more care thanks to you)

•option two, lots of children. Once he sees your pregnant the first time...well he likes you like that, might as well keep you like that all the time right? Besides don’t you want to continue his legacy?

•Either way he does like love his children, he just has a hard time showing it. He tries to show he cares though i mean you’ve seen how he is with Vash. Honestly I think it’s easier for your kids to understand their fathers affections since their half plant, gives them a better insight you know? (if you mess with them it’s literally the quickest way to die though so it’s not like that aren’t under his care still)

Livio

Does he want children? 100% Yes!

•This man...ugh this man

•Livio 100% wants kids with you, he’s a gentle giant and a soft soul at heart. He wants nothing more than to settle down with you and have a couple little feet running around.

•This man is so patient so caring with you. He’s also a little scared he’ll hurt you once you’re pregnant I mean look at you!!! you’re so cute! waddling around all that baby weight, what if he crushes you? or bumps into you and hurts the baby? what do you mean that's not how that works?

•Despite his worries you welcome a happy healthy baby girl, who he’s still a little apprehensive about hurting at first but once you guide him through holding the little bundle of joy he’ll settle a bit

•So you have your first little girl, and after about a year you decide to try for another. You and livio decide you want to try to have one boy one girl, only thing is...you have another little girl! but that's okay! because a year after that you try again...and have another little girl. Livio accepts his fate after that.

•all jokes! Livio really does love his little girls to death, he doesn’t really care if he has a little boy or not, besides it’s endlessly hilarious to come home and see this hulk of a man surrounded by three little girls, one of which has dressed him up in a pink tutu so he can attend her royal tea party, another using her cheap kid make up to make him “the prettiest girl at the ball” while she smears eyeshadow on his face and another one yet pulling what hair he has into multiple little pig tails.

•Now I do have one small headcannon that only applies if you are in a relationship with both Livio and Razlo. If you are in a relationship with both the boys then Razlo sees the girls as his kids but not his kids if that makes sense...as in he helps raise them as his own but he doesn’t feel like he in particular made them you know?

•Razlo will probably ask if he can try for one kid with you (if you know what I mean) and you'll end up with one more kid, your youngest and ofcourse...it’s a boy! Razlo will never let Livio live this down, he will tease Livio about this fact forever. “What like it was hard?” “Shut up Razlo”

Razlo

Does he want kids? Maybe?

•Razlos a little on the fence about kids at first. He’s spent his life training, protecting, killing. As cocky as he acts he isn’t sure he’d be a good dad.

•Once he get’s more settled into his life not constantly fighting he’ll start to consider it though, because Razlo does like kids it’s just...he spent his whole life protecting Livio he had just never really considered the fact he might one day have a family of his own

•When you’re pregnant he follows you around like a puppy, his broad form is like a large shadow keeping a watchful eye over your smaller form. Unlike Livio though he’s a little less scared of his strength, in fact he likes to use it to his advantage, why waste his gift right? so expect him to try to carry you around everywhere. Also don’t even think about lifting anything, that’s what he’s for!

•As mentioned in Livios if you are in a relationship with both Razlo and Livio then Razlo will only really try to get you pregnant once after all Livios kids born. He’s content with raising all the girls and one little boy. (Razlo also gets swept up into the parties. He puts up a bit more of a fight and complains and bit more then Livio does but he loves them so he deals with it.)

•As for his little boy he tries to get him into more traditionally masculine things so he can have a break from playing princess but he’s actually very accepting of whatever his kids want to do. If his little boy end up liking the stuff he does? great! If he doesn’t and just wants to join his sisters? also great! I mean, he’s a little less thrilled there's now four sets of hands hastily applying lipstick to his face, but that’s life. (Jokes on him, it ends up being one of the little girls who’s a little tomboy. “papa Razlo? can we go catch bugs?” “Oh thank god yes let’s go”)

•But!!! If you are in a relationship with just Razlo then it’s a bit different. He’ll probably end up with two kids, both boys. The first boy is alot like him, very loud, blunt, and protective. He’s also a bit of a trouble maker and it doesn’t help Razlo is a bit of a yes man which ends in both of them with their heads bowed while you scold them

•Your younger one is a bit more of a gentle soul. A lot more shy, more of an introvert and defiantly glued to you in his younger years. Razlo doesn’t 100% understand his interest as he gets older but he does try, in fact his shy nature reminds him a lot of Livio which makes him a bit protective of your youngest. in all he ends up being a great dad

Legato

Does he want kids? No.

•Now listen, you need to understand, this man did not have a good childhood, in fact he didn’t have a childhood.

•He doesn’t have any experience with kids and the way he was treated as a child...yeah he’s got a lot of trauma around the whole concept of children as a whole, and honestly it’d have to be pretty far in your relationship for him to even be willing to be physical enough with you to even have the chance to conceive a kid.

•so no he doesn’t want kids.

•but lets say accidents happen and somehow the two of you are a bit careless and you end up pregnant

•oh boy are you ready? Because Legato makes me really sad. He’d be a bit distant during your pregnancy, he doesn’t really know how to feel about all this, he never imagined himself as a father and now...

•When your baby is first born (a little boy) you’re going to have to do all the care. It’s rough but honestly with his trauma? he’d be scared to death to touch his kid. He’s paranoid. He knows what he went through and he’s scared. What if he hurts his kid? What if the same thing happens to him? In reality he’d never and I mean never hurt his kid but it’s a common for this kind of paranoia in victims of the type of abuse Legato suffered.

•It’s a rough couple of first years but after some reassurance (and therapy! please get this man therapy!) He slowly comes around. No matter what though he’s protective. Like I said he knows how cruel humanity can be, and even in the first years with his paranoia he’ll be damned if anyone hurts his little boy. In fact he might go a bit over board and refuse to let anyone even touch him or pick him up besides you

•Once he settles in though...it’s not so bad. He slowly warms up to him, admittedly it’s a bit rocky at first. To your little boy Legato is a bit of a stranger living in the same house of him since Legato refuses to let himself get too close, but give it time and they’ll slowly bond.

“I’m told you like to read?” “...yeah” “maybe...I could give you some of my favorite books? would you like that?” “...okay.”

•Don’t worry!!! the two end up okay. Despite the less than ideal start, Legato gains more confidence the more he interacts with his son. Especially since they have a lot of the same interest. At the end of the day Legato realizes something, he want’s to give his kid the childhood he never got to have.

#vash x reader #wolfwood x reader #livio x reader #razlo x reader #legato x reader #trigun x reader #vash x you #wolfwood x you #knives x reader #legato x you #livio x you #razlo x you #knives x you

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persephone11110 · 3 months

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Self Control

Jake Seresin x Reader

Three times you should’ve stopped fucking Jake Seresin, and one time you finally did.

tw:one night stands, insecure reader, KINDA DARK, mentions of sex throughout—DUBIOUS CONSENT fic,Dead Iceman->reader is grieving and doesn’t how to process her emotions properly, asshloe J.S->cheater Jake, they both need fucking therapy!!,—jake abusive childhood Jake chokes reader->bruises, happy ending, the two kazansky children seen in the movie are cannoned just gave them names(Xander,Ana Kazansky),self-slutshaming, reader calls herself whore 2-3x, mavdad—feminist icon

WC : 2.7k

AN: I really can’t tell you how this fic was born tbh, but enjoy❤️, title from Self Control- Frank Ocean

—

THIS FIC MENTIONS SEX ALOT, I PUT DUBIOUS CONSENT BCUS READER & JAKE ARE NOT IN RIGHT STAND OF MIND, PLEASE BE CAREFUL!!!

1. his bedroom

You’ve been thinking to yourself lately,everynight you lie in bed in wondering if you should be tired of doing this?, giving a piece of yourself to Jake Seresin three times a week.

You wondered if the man even cared enough to get to know you, after all you’ve been acting as his bed warmer for the past three months.

But that just it, you were warned of how this would work, you both agreed to emotionless sex— being each other’s fuckbuddies when work got to much to emotionally handle.

As it seemed neither of you had the mental capacity to have a healthy coping mechanism. You sat on your floor infront of a mirror trying to cover up a neck bruise, Jake had a nightmare again—the same one as usual, Instead Jacob Sr was the one doing the choking.

“Jake, Jake!” your throat was closing, Jake hand around throat was tightening—his fingers digging deep into your skin Again. You were begging for him to release you. You stared into his green forest like eyes—their so fucking beautiful.

At first he doesn’t acknowledge your pleading tone, Jakes most likely still stuck in nightmare from hell “Jake please let go”. Your voice was dry now, tears sprung from your eyes as it did his.

A loud thump happened as your body rolled of the bed to the floor. You heard heavy breathing which normally signaled Jake had finally woken up . He banged his head against the headboard loudly. Jake utters a small—“I’m sorry”before leaving you alone in the room to gather himself.

You sat on the floor like fucking obedient dog waiting for Jake to come back and tell you what do next. While you sit there in silence apart of you wonders were the strong Y/n“Killerfrost” Kazansky went, the woman who didnt break a sweat while looking death in the face. The woman who flew more colder than Iceman more crazier than Maverick. What happened?

Death happened,cancer stripped your dad of his life. Sitting at his beside watching him struggle take his last breath, shushing him he because he was pushing himself to use his voice.

Going on base and listening to the Admiral Simpson go over on the speaker and tell the base that Admiral Kazansky—your dad drew his last breathe. Which led you to Jake Seresin bed.

Younger you would be so disappointed in you right now. Younger Y/n Kazansky would rather die before laying down with man who’s ruining their mental health. If someone told you ten years down line you would be fucking one of the worst men as an emotional outlet. You would’ve laughed in their face repeatedly till you passed out from lack of oxygen.

“Tom Kazansky would be so disgusted with his daughter”, a thought lingered around your mind, “Dad wouldnt even want to be in the same room as you”.

You picked yourself off the floor as you heard Jake’s footsteps getting closer. Your legs were bouncy as anxiety was coursing through your veins—flying never did make you feel this, but leave it to Jake‘Hangman’Seresin to.

Jake voice was low and rough,“See you next week”. Before you could say something to the man, he already had his back turned walking away from you.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment,“How am I falling for a man who doesn’t love me and never will?”. You continue to slip your clothes back on as you toss the thought around in your head, careful of your sore neck skin. “You should be ashamed of yourself Y/n Kazansky, you were not raised be a whore who re adjust their clothes as a John throws a fucking dollar at them., You were raised with dignity”.

Whore. Y/n Kazansky callsign should be Jake Seresin whore.

Your pressed your head into the shower wall, allowing the hot pressed water to soothe your aching muscles.“I’m so sorry daddy”.

—

2. Family Dinner

You kept tugging at the hem of your turtle neck, it was to hot to be wearing this damn thing in the first place. But last thing you wanted to was to worry your siblings as they had just lost their father. That last thing they needed was their weak sister falling apart at the seams, as if they weren’t either.

Two times a month your siblings held saturday dinner. The idea was to keep up with eachother.

Guess who’s been missing family dinner to fuck Jake Seresin?, the answer is Y/n Kazansky.

You stood on Ana porch quietly, wondering if you should even go in, not wanting the catch the end of your short-tempered sister.

“You plan on standing there till hell freeezes over?”, a voice pulls your from your thoughts, Xander Kazansky was standing behind you with pie in his hands. “Come on sis, Ana been waiting to see you”. He smiled, softly pulling on your wrist to get you into the door. You mirror his smile, forgetting all about last night. You closed the door behind you.

“Hey kid”, you stand there waiting for him to put the pie down before you pull him into a tight hug. Your ruffling his hair, with one hand.

“I have you know Y/n I can legally drink alcohol”. Xander pouts like little kid.

“Y/n didn’t wait until she was twenty one drink”. Ana tone of voice was sour as she gestured the both of you to sit down.

“Ana I—“ Your cut off by her harsh words.

“Y/n the longer you spew bullshit at me the longer its takes to bless the food”. Ana states before bowing her head and closing her eyes.

You and Xander make eye contact before joining her.

“So us non-aviators aren’t good enough for you anymore?” Ana asked you in calm tone, yet you could hear how angry she truly was.

Xander was to busy scraping at his dinner plate, shoving food in his mouth—not wanting to be caught in the middle of his sister’s argument.

You bite at the inside of your cheek unsure of what to say back. Can’t say the truth because then Ana will really flip out if she finds what her little sister been doing lately.

You glanced at your plate again thinking up lie to tell her. “I’ve been busy Ana, since the mission the dagger squad have become a permanent squadron”. Your telling the truth but the full truth.

You pray Ana takes the bone you threw at her and leaves it alone. Ana gave you a dirty look before picking at her broccoli and shoving it in her mouth. Thank god neither of your parents were here as they would’ve picked up on ticks, the picking at your nails, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Sweetheart you can tell us whats going on you know that right”, your dad would say while nudging your shoulder, “Your off the clock, you can retire Killerfrost till your up in the air”.

You thought Ana had let it go as she stopped acknowledging you, and was only talking to Xander. "I hope that whatever you been doing was worth it Y/n, you haven’t even seen mom in goddamn month”.

“Ana” Xander sighed, he was getting tired of his sister remarks, you didn’t wanna defend yourself anymore, not that you even tried to.

You bowed your head in shame, no longer wanting to make eye contact with either sibling.

“What Xander?”, Ana raised her voice,”It’s the same fucking thing dad would’ve say to her too,I’m getting tired of her acting as if she’s the only one who lost a dad, like mom didn’t lose apart of her”.

You could feel the tears attempting to escape from your eyes. You placed the silverware back in its place, you stood from the dinner table. Casting a look between the both of them—“I’m sorry Ana, Xander” before you walked out of her house with tears rushing down your face.

Your sitting at a gas station thinking about everything, you really were acting selfish.

Maybe fucking Jake Seresin was a bad idea?

You picked up your phone, eyeing the text message. “I can’t sleep Y/n, come over if your aren’t busy”.

And just like that, Jake was telling you to come over it’s like he knew when it was a bad time for you. How dare you say no to him?

You put the key back in the ignition and start to slowly pull out of the parking lot.

Your on the back road, the shortest way to get to his house.

3. All I Could Was Cry

She was standing there with my man.

I heard them promise death do us apart.

A woman who looked like Marilyn Monroe was her descendant hung off of Jakes arm, she wrapped her hand around his bicep. They both shared a smile with one another, “I’m busy tonight Y/n“, he texted you this morning.

They were pushing eachother into the water- her screams of joy as Jake playfully her slammed into the water. She leaned into to him pushing her tongue down his throat.

I was losing the man I loved.

“Falling in love with a man like that is dangerous game Y/n” A familiar voice interrupts your self pity. Uncle Maverick is standing behind you with two beers in his hands and small smile. “Scoot over kiddo” Your sitting on cold sand, pretending to be okay with the scene infront of you.

“Uncle Mav if your here to give me I’m so disappointed in you speech, I’ve already gave myself one more than once I-“. He gently cuts you off when he pulls you into a tight, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“Your mom been worried about you, so has your siblings , me and the daggers”. His voice is laced with worry, you hated making people worry about you. “Your flying been…crazy these past couple of months”. Maverick struggles to find more words to say, unsure if he does it might push into Jakes arms.

He was right you been flying like your ass was on fire, and if you’ve been pulling maneuvers even he wouldn’t dare to.

“Ana Kazansky is worried about me?”, Your eyes widen at that,“It didn’t seem like that a couple nights ago when she was going for my head”.

“Ana is like your father, arguing with them is like sitting on the stand defending yourself against a criminal charge”. Uncle Maverick explains with a soft tone, “I would know after pissing your dad off for over thirty years”. You swear he blinks away a few tears before continuing.

“I have everything under control, yes I like Seresin and I understand he doesn’t want me”. You feel indifferent as the lie rolls off your tongue through your mouth. “I’m Killerfrost Kazansky who doesn’t allow her emotions to get the best of her”. Your eyes shift away as you attempt to not hold eye contact with him.

“The same bullshit your father tried to pull with me years ago, your Y/n Kazansky the woman who just her father, the woman who misses her father dearly the man who showed you how to spell your name, the man who managed to get out of deployment early to drop you off for the first day kindergarten”.

Tears pricked at your eyes,“I didn’t think about it that way,maybe i’ve been to hard on myself?”. Your voice cracks with emotion. “As much I hate to say it— It feels nice to be ‘wanted’ by someone, Mav”.

“Kid, I was that man thirty some odds years ago when Goose died, I had sex with any woman who looked my way and said yes”. Maverick pulled away from you, gently wiping away your tears. “It’s going to hurt kiddo for awhile, but I promise you its gets better, the last thing Ice would want is for his daughter to lose herself, to allow a man to tell her how worthy she is”. He presses a kiss into the side of your head“It’s okay to feel emotions Y/n Kazansky”, he said low enough for only your ears.

After leaving you alone with your thoughts, your phone blinks as a notification pops up.

“Y/n I need you over tonight”. Your walking back to the car, hand on the car handle. “10 is good”. Your driving past his house, your driving to your apartment.

4. Happier Again (3months later)

He’s in standing your doorway with roses in his hand, and red wine in the other. When you heard knocking on the door you expected Ana because it almost time for movie night or Harvard because he’s sucks at cooking and needs help. But not him—Jake Seresin was standing in your doorway looking apologetic.

The new you wants to slam the door in his face, forcing him to catch a hint that the nights you spent in his bed were over. Deciding against your gut you decide to allow him in, for what you’ll never know—maybe he’s here to offer a peace offering.

You still had to work with him still— the dagger squadron is permanent till Cyclone and Cain think otherwise.

Jake goes to open his mouth but nothing leaves it, which is a first. The great Hangman is left clueless not a insult dripping with anger and sarcastic comment in sight.

“Come in Jake” He cocks his head to the side unsure if he really should.“If you want stand outside and look stupid thats fine by me”. You turn on your heel,but before you get far he grabs you by wrist, pulling you into a kiss.

The roses, the wine—he loves me, Jake“Hangman” Seresin finally loves me. You feel the old you try to blossom like a dead flower, attempting to sprout back to life.

“Stop!”You shoved at his chest he falls back alittle. “No, I’m not doing this again with you Jake”. Your cheeks are starting to get red,“What about that woman from the hard deck?”.

His lips slip into a tight smile“She and I are going through a rough patch right now”. Jake steps into your apartment, “Y/n its nothing to worry about she wouldn’t know”.

You shake your head at him,“You haven’t changed?”.

“Oh come on darlin it’ll be like old times”, He stands tall, his hangman smile is fully on display.

You scoff, doesn’t he understand what I just said?

“Jake you have a girlfriend, its make you a cheater!” You jabbed a finger into his chest. “Your cheating on your girlfriend”. He doesn’t give a shit.

“And your such a fucking angel darlin, we fucked for how long Y/n?”. His voice is harsh, anger bubbling—getting ready to explode like a volcano. “Were’s ya fucking halo at?”.

“I didn’t know” you yell back at him—standing your ground. The one bad thing you inherited from your dad was his temper, when your button been pushed for too long.“You must fell from heaven when your father casted you out, huh?”. A low blow that was uncalled for, but he’s taking it there.

“I need you darlin, I need to fuck you!”. he screams, your pretty sure you and Jake are one second close to having the cops called for a domestic disturbance.

“You and I need therapy Jake”, your voice returning to a calm tone.“Fucking you was worst shit i’ve ever done, I’ve been using you as a tool”. You step back from him.“Jake you can’t honestly tell me we aren’t ‘broken’ a little bit, sane humans don’t do this shit”.

Jakes eyes were squeezed closed, your cupped his jaw with your hands.“It’s okay not be okay, but its not okay to be doing this”. You sighed,“As much as I want to, its not healthy Jake”.

Jake opened his eyes, tears were rolling down his face. “I’m so sorry Y/n I just needed a break, I needed a break from being Hangman”.

“A smart guy told me once your no longer in the air, there’s no need to fake who you are”. Your eyes are beginning to become teary, “We need help Jake”.

“Your right Y/n” His eyes were still wet.

“Go back your place and try to figure out what went wrong with you and her”. You gently told him. “Work buddies?”. You had hope in your voice, you put your hand out.

A wet laugh fell from his mouth,“Work buddies”. He shakes it.

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader

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tayasui-mono · 2 months

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Imagine you meet this genius, surly, beautiful man, and you kind of indirectly ruined his life in the first week by putting him in a situation where he was forced to take a life leaving the victim's daughter an orphan. Now you're like, hey, this guy thinks like no one else, and he's properly traumatized, let's mess with him a bit. Voila! He's in your office for therapy. You gleefully rub your hands, sit down, and he tells you he has 7 dogs. 7 dogs? 7 dogs. Why do you have 7 dogs? Turns out he resques them. 7? Ok.

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal meta #hannigram meta

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bts-hyperfixation · 5 months

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Outside of the Fox

Chapter 33 of 35

3759 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

The doctors' office is a little too cheery for your liking. It's painted in bright sunshine yellows with smiling photos on the wall. Jin had said that his friend specialised in family therapy and so the office would reflect that but he had also assured you that the man had experience in Jungkook's level of anxiety.

The rabbit practically vibrated as he sat next to you. You wish there was more you could do to alleviate his anxiety but holding his hand and gently stroking his hair is all you can provide right now. You are just thankful that is only the two of you in the room. The doctor's secretary had allowed you to wait in the treatment room before the doctor returned from lunch away from other patients waiting for other doctors.

You glance at Jungkook's face, trying to gauge exactly how bad he might be feeling on a scale of hiding under the covers to an actual heart attack. So far he seems to be at the point of his eyes popping out of his skull. You try to pull him more into your lap in the protective way you've seen Namjoon do in the past. He settles a little more into your side but his demeanour doesn’t change. You want to say something soothing but you keep coming up blank."

Just as well, because the door opens and in walks a man can only assume is Jin's therapist friend. He is shorter than you had pictured, with round spectacles and the bald patches that come naturally to some with age.

"Good afternoon both! My name is Doctor Treiver!" he says cheerily "I was awfully surprised when Jin asked me for this favour, I was starting to think the man was never going to find a mate, let alone two."

"Actually there's seven of us, not including Jin so eight I guess." you supply awkwardly.

Jungkook cowers into your side trying to evade the therapist's gaze.

"Ah even better, the doctor deserves an entire family to spoil" The older gentleman smiles fondly. "Anyway enough about him. I assume we are here to talk about you?'

He turns to Jungkook making the rabbit squirm. You try your best to make him face the therapist but it doesn't work he buries his nose in your scent gland and refuses to move away.

The man raises an eyebrow at you but all you can do is shrug apologetically.

"Would it make you feel more comfortable if I talk about me for a little while?"

Jungkook still doesn't respond so he forges on. He talks about being a dog hybrid and about his family: how his wife has gone back to school, and his daughters just had a dance recital that he'd been so proud to watch.

He eats up all of the time talking about himself. But miraculously it seems to distract Jungkook. He begins to unfurl, listening to Dr. Triever talk, he still won't offer any conversation of his own but he doesn't have a vice grip on your arm as the session draws to a close. He almost looks disappointed as the doctor winds to a close.

“Unfortunately that’s all the time we have, my next patient will be here shortly so we will perhaps have to take a rain check on me getting to know about you Jungkook. Jin has booked this session for you for the next few weeks, would you like to keep it?”

Jungkook nods slightly and Dr. Treiver smiles and claps his hands.

“Wonderful, that’s settled then, I’ll see you next week!”

The elder man rises and shows the two of you to the door. Jungkook’s arm wraps fully around yours again as he nervously makes his way through the full waiting room. Only when you are back at the car, does the colour start to reflood his cheeks.

“Do you want to drive?” You ask him as you approach.

“No.” He manages to squeak out.

You open the passenger door for him and run around to the driver's side.

“Are you hungry?” You ask

“Yoongi left us some snacks,” He responds.

“And Jin left us his credit card for your treat. How about you and I hook a laptop up to the big screen and start shopping for everything we need for the new rooms?”

He looks excited at the prospect and now you’re alone, his sunshiny attitude has returned and he babbles on about trinkets he wants to buy for himself and the others. It’s clear he has been thinking about this the most out of all of you since the house upgrades had been suggested. Considering you had all assumed he would be taking it the hardest you were all rather surprised by this outcome, but then he had only really spent ten months in the original hovel, and he was now being offered his wildest dreams (or his most reasonable dreams if Namjoon had a say).

You want to ask him how he is feeling following the appointment but you hold your tongue, thinking it might be better saved for a family meeting later this evening so he doesn’t have to rehash his feelings on more than one occasion.

As soon as you walk into the apartment Jungkook bounces into the kitchen and gathers his favourites of the snacks Yoongi left behind. In the meanwhile, you rummage through the drawers for a HDMI cable.

You play through Amazon listings like Tinder, adding yes’ to the basket and judging the hell out of the no’s. You find yourselves looking through more and more bizarre furniture listings until you stumble across tables with animal legs and chairs that look more like avant-garde art pieces.

Namjoon comes home early and crashes into the bed next to you. He seems less than impressed that you are adding so many things that he cannot buy you into the basket but Jungkook knows the right things to search to have him join in your little game. The rabbit puts the ugliest typewriter he can find on the screen making Namjoon physically retch. It has Namjoon snatching the keyboard away from him and you launching to get it back.

Namjoon catches you easily, keeping the keyboard far out of your reach.

“That thing is a crime against reality! You’ve both just lost your keyboard privileges,” he says.

He places the electronic on to the sofa and then readjusts you into his lap properly.

“We are just putting things in the basket, right? You’re not actually buying anything?” Namjoon asks timidly.

“We haven’t bought anything yet no… only because we thought getting things delivered here would cause logistical issues,” you shrug.

“Then I guess I can play…” Namjoon confirms.

He places the keyboard back into your lap and wraps his arms around you so he can type. Jungkook cuddles up to Namjoon’s arm and your game continues. Namjoon’s mind is much more creative than yours and Jungkook’s had been. He enters things you would’ve never thought of pulling up bizarre appliances and inventive contraptions, he also finds some rather concerning yet arousing intimate apparatus that has you blushing and hiding your face, even though the thought is intriguing. Apparently, Jungkook feels the same way as you hear a whine involuntarily escape his throat.

You are interrupted from going any further as the door slams open and Jimin and Yoongi walk through. You haven’t realised how late it had gotten.

The pair join you in your little game until Jin comes home. You had wanted to wait for Taehyung before you ate dinner, but he rang and told you he wouldn’t be able to leave his family estate until very late today. So you all eat without him, leaving a plate of leftovers in the fridge with a note for him.

__________________

Taehyung pov

Returning had become a tedious exercise long before Taehyung had met the pack, now it was practically unbearable. Unfortunately, as the tax year came to a close, his parents' businesses required more attention, and by extension more appearances of their eldest son.

They had been disappointed with him for a while now. A series of tawdry flings and a couple of minor arrests in his late teens had really made them lose faith in him. No one could blame him for the way he acted, there was always just so much… pressure. And having skipped out the night before in favour of watching you and Jungkook had done nothing to enamour him to them right now.

“You waste so much of your potential Taehyung,” His father sighs dejectedly.

“You knew last night was important, why weren’t you here?” His mother implores

Taehyung doesn’t know how to answer exactly… He hasn’t exactly mentioned the pack to his family. They wouldn’t approve of him partnering with someone they deemed to be in a lower economic class. He explained his absence from the family home with a selection of trips, flings, and slumber parties to try and offset the amount of time he was spending away. He was sure they had their suspicions, after all, he always returned reeking of specific scents. The knowing glances his sister kept shooting him confirmed that he wasn’t being as subtle as he had hoped.

He had rather hoped to find a time to introduce them to just Jin to start with, sure they would accept a doctor as his partner. Although it kills him to think they may never meet you or Jimin or anyone else, not as his mates anyway. He can’t risk losing his trust fund by pissing his family off too much though, he needed it to support all of you.

“Ah Eomma, I told you, I was at a friend's and had car trouble. I promise it won’t happen again,” he replied.

“It better not young man, you know this is an important time for our company. You need to be seen at all events.” His father said sternly.

They sit through an incredibly awkward family meal of food that is far too fancy and nowhere near filling as Taehyung’s father explains each of their roles in the coming weeks. As per usual, Taehyung is to be seen and not heard. It is all pretty standard, His family have given them the same role since it became clear he was probably not going to be the head of the entire business (They only gave him the visa business as it was their least lucrative asset)

However, at the usual end of his father’s speech, he pauses and looks at Taehyung directly.

“You’re not going to like this part Taehyung-ah, but it’s time,”

“Time for what?” Taehyung asked, suspicion peaked.

His parents look at each other, a silent conversation passing between them until his mother nods.

“Time for you to marry,” His mother continues

Taehyung sits there with his mouth agape like a goldfish. His siblings shuffle uncomfortably on either side but he can’t work out if it’s a sign of surprise or guilt.

“We have spoken with the Hirely family and we believe their second daughter would be an advantageous match for you.

The Hirely’s are a family that owns a lot of businesses in similar facets to the Kim’s.

“That’s absurd. You cannot expect me in this day and age to agree to this!” Taehyung shouts.

He slams his hands on the table as he stands in indignation.

“Sit back down Taehyung!” His father shouts. “Their second daughter is a perfectly acceptable young woman and it is time for you to stop with this behaviour of yours. If you do not accept, we will be forced to exclude you from the business,”

“Look, Taehyung, we didn’t want to do this, but you’ve left us with no choice. Your reputation reflects poorly on our family dear. We really do believe this is for the best,” His mother has the gall to look guilty about the situation.

The room is silent. Taehyung grips the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white. He is left with very few choices. He can go through with the engagement, he can come clean and become immediately disowned, he could accept the engagement and hope to convince her to call it off, or he can bargain. He makes his excuses and leaves the house trying to think of his exit strategy.

The obvious choice is to turn them down flat, but then he wouldn’t be able to help provide for the new lifestyle you had all been getting so excited over. Then introducing his family to just Jin would be potentially messy, the entire pack would need to know the situation and he would have to expose how… old fashioned his family were. Going ahead with it to try and get her to call it off was even riskier, he had no idea what was at stake for his supposed bride.

By the time he returns to Jin’s flat everyone is asleep, he tiptoes passed the three of you in the living room and into the kitchen for a drink but when he opens the fridge, he finds the leftovers with Jimin’s note attached.

Taehyung-ie we missed you Yeobo, eat well and sleep well, Love.

He smiles and kisses the note before slipping it into his pocket and scarfing down the leftovers. He sits at the breakfast bar and watches you, Jimin, and Jungkook as you sleep. He watches as you and Jungkook cocoon Jimin in between you, nuzzling into his scent markers and making him whimper a little in his dreams. He knows right then that giving in to his parents is not an option.

_____________

The next few days continue similarly for you and Jungkook. You grow bored of looking for new furniture that you can’t have yet and move on to paint swatches. But there is only so much you can do without a wall to paint.

Next, the pair of you try baking, but it only takes Jin seeing the state of his kitchen after an all-night shift to put a stop to that (Jungkook had never used a blender that was able to start without its lid before, how was he supposed to know it would spray that high…

You suggest gaming but Jungkook had only bought his switch without the tv dock so you have to pass the console back and forth.

You had never realised how tiring it was to think of things to fill your day. Even at your parent's home you had managed to find things to do like study or clean or read. But Jin’s place was spotless (save the batter on the ceiling) and his books were largely medical journals that were far too wordy.

You contemplate asking Tae if you can go back to work for a few days a week, but he always comes home so late and seems so busy at the moment that you never get the chance.

Eventually, you and Jungkook settle into a routine of TV and napping, and maybe a little fooling around in the process. The others all shake their heads as they walk in after work and see the two of you curled up together yet again.

Before you know it the week rolls around again and it’s time for Jungkook’s second therapy session.

______

Jungkook still attaches himself to you with a vicelike grip as you walk into the doctor’s office. This time dr Treiver is already waiting for the two of you, large grin in place as he says his hellos.

Jungkook manages to squeak an introduction this time and you find yourself exceedingly proud of him. He doesn’t manage too much more, although he occasionally nods to the doctor’s questions. Dr Treiver writes some notes on an iPad about the limited motions Jungkook provides.

“I’m glad you’re feeling more open this time Jungkook, I know this isn’t easy for you. I hope we can build a much more successful relationship over time. For now, though would it make you feel better if I also asked Y/N some questions,”

The rabbit looks at you uncertainly but you nod and put him at ease. If it will help him, you don’t mind.

The doctor doesn’t really ask you anything of interest, he mostly just asks for surface-level information, things similar to what he spoke about the week before. You tell him a little about your parents and your husband, nothing you haven’t told the pack before. Then you tell him a little about your life now. It makes you blush talking about how happy you’ve been. Jungkook smiles wide and his grip relaxes as he listens to you.

Once again the session comes to an end without Jungkook having said a word. He is however sitting independently now, having shuffled away a tiny bit so he could look at you better while you spoke. You noticed that the doctor wasn’t paying particular attention to you anyway, he had been watching Jungkook’s body language the entire time.

You take him to the drive-through for ice cream after this session. He is far less wound up than the last time.

_________________

He finally talks to the doctor in the fourth session. He stammers, he stutters, he fumbles his words. But he talks.

Not about anything in particular, he avoids a lot of questions and mostly focuses on other people. He talks about Namjoon’s new book, Yoongi and Hoseok’s song, Jin being too tired. It sounds like a whole lot of nothing to you, but Dr. Treiver leans in like it’s the most fascinating information in the world. And for all you know about psychology, it might’ve been.

______________

Eight weeks after work began, you are informed that the building work on the outside annexe you had requested has been completed. It’ll be another six or so months until the main house is completed, but Jin’s lease was coming to an end and he hadn’t wanted to renew it for a full year if it wasn’t going to be necessary, hence the addition of what is essentially a granny flat in the yard.

You and Jungkook head out to see it after everyone heads to work. You’ve set up for two large beds and some sofas to be delivered ready for you all to use. Taehyung and Namjoon promised to meet you there later to help move things around. But for now, it was just you, Jungkook, and an empty building waiting to be painted.

The granny flat had four rooms: a bathroom, two bedrooms, and open space for a living room with a small kitchen. You had asked for the living room and bathroom to be fully decorated and ready but Jimin had thought it would be more fun if you could put your own spins on the bedrooms and personal spaces. Taehyung and Jin had moaned a little about the manual labour, but Jungkook had puppy dog eyes that no one could refuse so he and Jimin got their ways.

You cart in a selection of paint can swatches and set about pasting them all onto the walls. You start in the first bedroom. Jungkook picks ten colours for himself leaving you with ten more and you both get to work. He starts on the wall facing the window and you start on one with less direct lighting and then you switch.

You stand back and swipe hair out of your face, after finishing 20 foot-by-foot squares.

“I think we might have gotten too many options…” You point out.

Jungkook stands back to admire his work as well.

“I’m not sure we have enough…” Jungkook counters.

“You don’t like any of them?”

“I like all of them, but I’m not sure any of them are right for us,” he shrugs.

“Well this is only our spare rooms, they don’t have to be perfect,” you reason

He whines dejectedly in response and you hold your hands up in surrender.

“How about a combination of these?” You point at your favourite of the cream options and a blue. “Looks kinda like the sky, we could do something with that,”

“Maybe we should have someone paint a mural?” Jungkook suggests.

“Or you could paint one for us,” You say.

Jungkook had a few paintings and supplies he had been working on through the week that had caught your eye, he really came with many surprise talents.

He contemplates the idea for a moment, then his hand flicks up as if mimicking a brush. The only problem is, he is still holding a brush, one loaded with paint.

Paint that is now splattered across your t-shirt... You look at him with mock indignation. He begins to apologise, but before he gets the chance you pick up your brush straight from the tin and splatter blue all down Jungkook’s jeans.

“Hey, mine was an accident!” He pouts

“Mine too,” you shrug teasingly.

He growls, although the sound is rather unthreatening, and closes the gap between you, hugging you close and printing his paint splatter onto you in the process.

You think that might be the end of it until you feel the brush bristles against the fabric on your bum. Jungkook giggles as he draws a pattern, keeping you restrained with one hand.

He lets you go when he is finished and you turn to see the reflection in the window. There is a little bunny emblazoned on the left cheeks of your jeans.

That begins an all-out war. Paint gets poured over heads, and handprints can be found in suspicious places by the time you surrender.

“We should shower,” he says, looking down at himself

“We don’t have any towels,” you point out.

“I don’t mind watching you air dry…”

“Why do I feel like that would lead to something where we might have to shower a second time!”

“I mean we could just do that in the first shower… two birds one stone,” he winks.

“We also don’t have spare clothes,” you reason

“I’ll text Namjoon-ie to bring us some,” he counters.

You can see the horny glint in his eye and know you’re fighting a losing battle, it would be best just to do as he wants. And so you do. He tells Namjoon you need new clothes, and the older man doesn’t even think to ask why, he just lets you know he will be around 45 minutes, an amount of time Jungkook deems as perfect as he takes your hand and escorts you to the new bathroom so you can ‘christen’ the shower together.

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn’t have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you’re feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn’t have to be BTS

two chapters to go... unless... I may have planned a 36th chapter but it has more extra content than the actual plot, maybe an epilogue

#bts fic #bts smut #kpop fic #kpop smut #namjoon smut #bts imagines #jungkook smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #bts hybrids #hybrid bts au

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