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roosterforme · 4 months

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The Younger Kind Part 45 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is loving his life at home. Skittles continues to fit right in while you inadvertently insist on nearly finding the one thing Bradley wants to keep hidden. A family day at the beach followed by a night alone with you are the only things he wants to focus on right now. It would be great if that's what he was allowed to do.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

It was late by the time Bradley got home with Skittles, and you were pretty tired after assisting with an emergency at work. But Noah must have heard him pull into the driveway as he called out, "Daddy's back!" in the middle of coloring a rainbow turtle. He was out of his seat and heading for the front door before you could stop him, but it didn't matter, because you were anxious to see Bradley, too.

When you rounded the corner, he was kneeling on the floor and collecting Noah in his arms, a light blue bakery box on the floor next to him. You were used to seeing him with one arm around Noah while he held Skittles, but right now he was looking up at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention. It was remarkable that he still made you feel this giddy.

"Hey, Baby," he rasped. "You had a good day? Your emergency patient doing okay?" Then he stood up with his arms full and leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was still in his uniform, tall and strong, holding everything you cared about against his chest.

"Yeah. I had a good day," you replied, somehow managing to squeeze your way between Noah and Skittles to give him a kiss on the neck while he chuckled.

"Me too. Skittles got a clean bill of health," he whispered, and you could hear his stomach growling. It had probably been seven or eight hours since he had lunch, so you bent to pick up the bakery box, already craving a donut.

"That's good. Come on," you coaxed, tucking your index finger inside the top of his pants and earning a raised eyebrow as you tugged him toward the kitchen. "We already ate, but I'll heat up some leftovers for you while the two of you color."

"Daddy, is Skittles your best friend?" Noah asked as you set the box on the counter and took a peek. You gasped, because it was filled with crown donuts. You looked at Bradley over your shoulder where he was now sitting with his son on his lap.

"I think technically either Mommy or Aunt Natasha is my best friend, Bub."

You smiled as Noah sternly said, "No. It's Skittles. Mommy and Aunts don't count."

"Right. My bad," Bradley replied as he fiddled with something in his pocket. When he met your eyes, you noticed his cheeks were a little flushed as you bit into one of the donuts. "I got you a whole dozen this time."

"I see that," you replied, setting it down again so you could heat up a plate of food. "Did you run into Casey?"

"I did not," he replied as Noah handed him a green crayon. "It was just Skittles and I running up the credit card bill. That animal clinic is expensive."

"I believe it," you replied, taking a bite of potato from his plate to make sure it was hot enough. You'd always wanted a dog, but according to your parents, everything to do with pets was too pricey. They wouldn't even let you have a goldfish when you were a kid.

You set Bradley's dinner in front of him before grabbing the container of ants on logs out of the refrigerator for Noah. You arranged them on a plate in a zigzag shape before giving them to him, and he had one in his mouth before the plate was all the way set down. When you turned to get your donut, Bradley reached out and wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling you back to him.

"Princess," he whispered. "I love you."

He looked tired, and he was clearly in a bit of a soft mood. Maybe even sentimental. The way he called you his best friend a few minutes ago made you smile even now. But his dark eyes held so much devotion as he examined your face that you ran your fingers down along his cheek and let your forehead rest against his. You knew he was starving; you could still hear his stomach growling, but he made no move to release your leg to take a bite of his dinner. So you just stayed there, your lips brushing his every time you moved.

"I love you too, Daddy."

You grinned against his kiss as Noah crunched loudly on his carrot sticks. This was where you belonged. You could barely even remember the details of your tiny rental because of all of the richness of your home with Bradley. It was overpowering. Living with Bradley and Noah had a dreamlike quality that made everything better.

"You need to eat," you whispered, kissing Bradley one more time before returning to your donut.

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

"I want Skittles to sleep in my bed!" Noah was practically crying, his cheeks bright red with frustration as Bradley tried to get him ready to go to sleep. He was overtired and cranky, and right now he was inconsolable. "You said after she got her cast off, she could sleep in my bed!"

"Noah," Bradley said in his softest tone as his son's arms flailed in his pajama shirt. "I said we can try, but we can't force Skittles to do things. Do you understand?"

But he just whined, "I want her to sleep in my bed!"

Bradley sighed where he sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor, the engagement ring still tucked in his khaki uniform pants pocket. He didn't know where to put it. He didn't even know exactly when he wanted to give it to you. But he desperately needed to get it stashed away somewhere before he just proposed to you tonight, because having it on his person was making him feel a certain way about you. Maybe it was a good thing that Noah was kind of killing the vibe.

"Just get in bed," Bradley told him. "If you get in bed right now, I'll bring Skittles in."

He watched Noah launch himself into his twin bed and pull the blankets up to his chin. The odds that the pup would stay in Noah's room even for a few minutes were pretty slim. You had her out in the backyard right now so she could go to the bathroom, but the little pooch was almost glued to Bradley's side whenever he was home.

As soon as you walked back inside in your cute little shorts and tank top set with Skittles at your feet, Bradley bent and scooped her up. "Noah is losing his mind. Wish me luck." He turned away from you with a smirk and kissed Skittles on her head. "If you stay in there until Noah falls asleep and long enough for me to fuck my Princess, I'll give you a treat."

You were cracking up in the kitchen as he walked away. "You're bargaining with the dog!" But he knew better. Skittles wasn't just a dog, she was his best friend after all.

Noah's eyes lit up in the soft glow from the nightlight when Bradley entered his bedroom with the pup. "She got used to her own bed, okay? So if she doesn't want to stay, we can't make her." But Noah's arms were outstretched, ready to hold his pet, and Bradley got her nestled in under the blankets next to his little body.

As the dog looked up at him, concern for her new sleeping arrangement in her puppy eyes, Bradley bent to kiss Noah on the forehead and Skittles next to her bow. "Try to go right to sleep," he whispered to Noah. "I'm serious."

He just giggled in response as the dog licked his face, and Bradley did not see this little experiment ending well as he exited the room. He patted his pants pocket just as he had been doing all night. It took all he had within him not to open up the box and check to make sure your ring was secure, and he still didn't know where to put it for safekeeping.

When he entered his bedroom, he abandoned the idea of finding a good hiding spot when he found you in the middle of the bed wearing your paper crown. You looked so young and impossibly innocent with your glossy lips and your pajama set, but your filthy words betrayed you. "I heard you wanted to fuck a Princess."

He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked as he stood next to the side of the bed while you crawled toward him. "I always want my Princess," he whispered as your lips hovered just inches away from his zipper. When you looked up at him, every trace of innocence was completely gone, and you leaned in until your lips met his tip through his khakis. "Baby," he moaned, but before you could get his zipper down, he reached for your hands.

"What's wrong?" you asked as he pulled you up so you were kneeling in front of him.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is very right."

You smiled up at him as he kissed your lips softly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as plainly evidenced by the ring in his pocket right next to where your hand just settled. So as he guided your fingers up to his chest, he asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You laughed against his lips. "You're asking me on a date? We're already in a relationship."

Bradley's hands settled on your hips as he nipped along your jaw until his mouth was next to your ear. "Doesn't mean I can't ask you out. I got selected to fly in the air show, and I want you to be my date for the weekend."

"Really?" you gasped, your fingers tightening around his shirt buttons. "Noah and I get to watch you fly? And you and I can tour the children's hospital?"

"Mmhmm. I wasn't about to let you go with Jake. That man only has one thing on his mind when it comes to you."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, feigning pure innocence once again through your voice. "What does he have on his mind?" When Bradley responded by tucking his hand inside your tiny shorts and stroking your bare pussy, first you gasped, and then you laughed.

His touch remained soft and tentative as he slipped one finger down to tease your opening. "You see, he doesn't want you the way I want you."

"How do you want me?" you whimpered softly, kissing his lips.

"I want you with me for the rest of my life."

"Daddy!" you whined, kissing him desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew nobody else had ever spoken to you the way he did, but he also knew he'd never been in love like this before. This time, when you reached for his zipper, he let you have him. His shirt and pants ended up on the floor along with your tiny pajamas, and you welcomed him into your tight pussy as you told him you loved him.

"I have everything," he groaned as he made love to you as you peppered kisses along his flushed cheeks. "You're everything."

After you came for him, Bradley let himself indulge in filling you up while thinking about your belly all swollen and pregnant, and you reached for him just as Skittle came trotting back into the bedroom. Your soft laughter as Bradley curled up behind you had him laughing, too.

"The dog will literally do anything you ask," you whispered as she walked across the room and turned three circles around her dog bed before plopping down. "She stayed in bed with Noah long enough for you to fuck me."

"Dogs are man's best friend for a reason, Princess."

You snuggled in his arms for a few minutes, fingers laced with his as you kissed his forearm. Just as Bradley was starting to doze off, you said, "I'll check on Noah before I get ready for bed." He squeezed you tight one time before releasing you and rolling onto his back to stretch. "Ow!" you gasped when you climbed out of bed. "Shit! I just stepped on something hard in your uniform pants."

His eyes went wide as you started to bend down to investigate, but he vaulted out of bed. "I'll take care of it," he practically yelled, and you dropped his pants. The ring box made a soft thud as it hit the floor, and you gave him a strange look.

"Okay," you replied, glancing at him one more time before pulling your pajamas on and heading out of the room.

"Fuck," Bradley grunted, picking up the pants and rooting around in the pocket until the box was in his hand. He turned away from the door and snapped it open, revealing the most perfect ring he had ever seen. He was already obsessed with imagining it on your finger. But he snapped it closed again quickly and ran for the dresser.

He could leave it with his undershirts, but when he opened that drawer, he realized you were in that one a lot, often borrowing from him. He opened the next drawer down, but it was filled with your cute underwear, so that definitely wouldn't work. He reached for the bottom drawer which was filled with his socks, but he heard you coming back down the hallway, so he dropped the box and kicked it shut.

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" you asked as you plugged your phone into the charger, still eyeing him a little cautiously. Bradley realized he was just awkwardly standing there naked in front of the dresser for seemingly no reason, so he was definitely going to have to move the ring later.

"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing some clean underwear and kissing you as he walked past. "Getting ready for bed."

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

On Thursday, Bradley let you know that everyone was insisting on a beach day on Saturday, but when you texted Natasha about what kind of bathing suit she was planning on wearing, she claimed she might not even go.

"Well I don't know if I want to go if Nat isn't going," you complained to Bradley while you made dinner. "I don't want to be the only female there. In a bathing suit. That would be weird."

"She's going," Bradley said with an eye roll. "She's just being difficult, because she's trying to pretend nothing is going on with Javy. Besides, I'm not going unless you're going." He took the spoon you were holding out of your hand and spun you around to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without my Princess."

You let him kiss you and slip his hands underneath your top, trying not to moan as his calloused hands danced softly along your skin. When his lips skimmed along your cheek, you whispered, "You just want me there to help you walk safely across the uneven rocks and sand." You bit your lip as he eased his face away from yours to give you a cautionary look. So of course you immediately added, "Because you're such an old man."

One big hand slipped down and softly spanked you on the butt as you laughed. "Old or not, I can still get the job done. And that includes walking across the beach."

"Sure, Daddy. But I'll go, too. Just in case."

"Thank you. Now if you think you can be nice for a minute, I have something to tell you."

"I can be very nice," you said, kissing him on the tip of his nose before spinning around to check on dinner.

Bradley patted you on the butt before reaching into the refrigerator to get two beers out. "Penny offered to take Noah home after the beach and keep him for the night."

As he opened both bottles, your gaze drifted to where Noah was sitting on the kitchen floor, building blocks while Skittles basked in the last rays of the setting sun. You licked your lips as you watched Bradley press his mouth to his beer and take a long drink, the bob of his Adam's apple capturing your attention. "We'd have the house to ourselves for the night?"

He winked at you as he set his beer on the counter and pressed the other one into your hand. "Just you and me," he rasped, pecking your cheek. "And I can think of a few fun ways to pass the time."

Then he was on the floor with Noah, and Skittles was in his lap, but he kept shooting you his smug smile that you liked so much.

On Friday night, after Noah was in bed, you started to get things packed up for the following day. "Why do we need so much stuff to go anywhere?" you mused out loud as you found sunblock and beach towels.

"Oh, hell no," Bradley said, taking you by the hips and pulling you away from the tote bag you were packing. "First of all, you used to bring your textbooks over in that bag when you were babysitting, so it gives me an instant boner." You erupted into laughter as he held you against his chest. "But second, you drastically over packed when we went to the lakehouse."

You looked up at him over your shoulder. "I know," you whispered. "But I want Noah to have anything he might need or want. And you know how my parents were." You didn't like talking about them. They never understood you when you were a child, and that's why you'd moved out as soon as you could. They were also the reason you had a hard time spending Bradley's money even though he wanted you to be comfortable.

"I know, Baby," Bradley crooned, and you melted back against him. "I love how much you love Noah. And I hate that you never got to do anything or ask for anything when you were his age, but there's no need to go overboard for a beach day."

You nodded. "Well then why don't you help me pack?"

"I'd be happy to."

But you and Bradley spent more time kissing and laughing softly than anything else. His hands were all over you, just pulling you closer and trying to keep you there. "Let's go to bed," he whined for the third time, convinced you'd packed everything the three of you could possibly need. "I want to cuddle with you."

You nearly shrieked as he picked you up, leaving the pile of gear for the beach next to the front door, and carried you back to the bedroom. "Oh, you want to cuddle?"

He hummed and nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah. Let's save all the nasty shit for when we're home alone tomorrow night." Butterflies erupted in your belly as he set you down on the bed and climbed in next to you. "Let's cuddle."

You were wrapped up tight in his arms, Bradley's soft, even breaths tickling your neck as he whispered that he loved you. This was perhaps the safest you'd ever felt in your life. Nobody was going to hurt you here. Not now. Bradley would take care of that. And you would take care of him.

As you snuggled in to go to sleep, your eyes caught on the items lined up on the dresser. "What's all of that out for?" you asked softly.

"Huh?" Bradley grunted, probably already part way asleep. But you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at the purple USB drive, a pile of your underwear, your purple plug, your paper crown, and the bottle of lube. All sitting in a tidy row.

"On the dresser, Bradley."

"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he pulled you down flat again. "I started packing for the weekend, too. So to speak."

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

Bradley grunted, trying his best not to let you see how awkwardly he was walking across the sand. Not after you made the claim that he'd need you to hold his hand and guide him. You and Noah pranced ahead of him, but he was stuck carrying two bags, a cooler, an umbrella and a beach chair. And the temperature of the sand was roughly that of the surface of the sun.

"Fuck," he growled as the sand rushed into his flip flops and his aviators slid down his nose. How you were managing was literally beyond him. He just wanted to get this afternoon over with and get you back home and into bed. He had some plans for you, all of which were becoming more explicit by the moment as he watched your ass swaying in your purple bikini bottoms.

Literally the last thing he needed right now was to become aroused, so he just pushed your delicious looking rear end from his mind. Apparently you found the perfect spot, because you finally stopped and turned around to look for him. Then you laughed and left Noah with Nat while you made your way back to him.

"This sand is fucking hot," he complained before you could say anything at all.

You took one of the bags and the umbrella from him as you said, "It's August, Daddy. Of course the sand is hot. Do you need me to help you along? Or, I could run back to the Bronco and get your walker?" You started to turn in the direction of the parking lot with an innocent look on your face.

"You're really looking to get it tonight, aren't you?" Bradley replied, dumping everything next to where Noah was burying Nat's legs in the sand. You looked so pleased with yourself, and he thought about the ring that he had moved to the pocket of his dress whites that he'd picked up from the dry cleaner. They were hanging in the back of the closet, and he figured you'd have no reason to look there. Before you could run off, he pulled you in for a tight hug and said, "Stay out of trouble. Be a good girl. And I'll give you anything you want later."

Your lips met his ear, nudging his aviators crooked. "I love you." His fingers skimmed your skimpy bathing suit bottom as you joined Noah who had Nat covered to her thighs.

Javy was trying his best to casually toss a football around with Mickey and Mav, but he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was a good thing Bradley was absolutely convinced he was looking at Nat and not you, otherwise he'd have a problem. He left you next to the pile of everything you packed, intending to simply join the little football scrimmage that was going on, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, that's really nice, Bradshaw," Jake drawled. "You brought the family today. The little ball and chain, and the big ball and chain."

Bradley hooked his sunglasses with his index finger and dragged them roughly down his nose. "Funny," he said without emotion. "But you weren't calling her a ball and chain back in April when you tried to hook up with her in my kitchen."

Jake hooted with laughter, and it made Bradley's skin crawl. He was such a dick most of the time, and it was always intentional. "There's a difference between hitting a tight pussy and inviting it to live with you. I know the difference. You don't seem to. I'm surprised you didn't bring your dog along, too."

Bradley snapped. "What the fuck is your problem, man?"

Jake met his gaze, and Bradley was reminded without a doubt that Jake would love to get inside your little bikini bottoms just to say he could. "I don't have a problem, but it looks like you do." He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets, and Bradley turned to investigate. You were standing there, holding hands with Noah while you talked to a guy with blond hair. Upon further inspection, Bradley realized it was your ex boyfriend, Greyson.

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Well, well, well. We actually hate you, Grey. If Daddy and Princess can manage to make it to their sexy night home alone, what would you like to read about? And I really hope that ring is well hidden until Daddy comes up with a plan. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 46

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msdoodlesposts · 3 months

Text

Part 1

(Slight blood and language)

Mrs. Rich!Player x DogDay!Rich

September 12 1992

Three years before the hour of joy.

“Richie?” You muttered lightly still between the realms of being awake and sleep, though you were starting to wake up more when you moved your hand and didn’t feel the warm body of your husband Rich, You blinked your eyes a few times to get the sleep out before turning over and turn the lamp on,

Rich came out of the bathroom at the same time, dressed in his work blues and you couldn’t help but make a face.

“Your supposed to be off today”

“I know Angel” Rich spoke as he came over making sure his shirt look presentable “I got a call, a surprise load came in and the night crew needs a manager”

You crossed your arms lightly “can’t they get someone else to watch over them?” You asked, You been waiting a whole year to celebrate your first wedding anniversary and may have bother Rich a bit to always make sure he had that day off.

“It will only be for a few hours, when you wake up, I’ll be here with breakfast and those donuts from Randy’s you like so much” Rich spoke smiling softly, leaning down giving you a gentle kiss on the lips then on the forehead before turning off the lamp next to you.

“You get some sleep angle and I’ll see you soon”

***

Present day.

13 years after Richard was killed, 10 years after everyone went missing.

“How the fuck were these things even approved!” You couldn’t help but yell annoyed as you shot another flare when a small unicorn and chicken plushy started craving you way. Like what was cute about blank eyes and big grinning smiles that would be like nightmare fuel!

You sigh and gently rubbed your eyes to try and get them from being blurry having not slept in about what a day if you could remember correctly.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you heard more of those tiny animal squeaks as they came closer again. You could understand why Ollie found this place terrifying but to you it was starting to get annoying with all of the critters. You saw the wires you been fallowing lead to a button and you hope that

It would open it a door thus leading to a exist.

Ok so you were half right it did lead you somewhere, when you went down the stairs beyond the door and into a indoor swimming pool(they seriously had one?) You fallowed another pair of doors into something that definitely didn’t look like a child’s place, your eyes gazed over the cell block area, a frown appearing on your lips as you remembered this was where Catnap-Theo was kept.

You took in a deep breath and slowly walked in, looking around as you went and frown as the inside of the cells, your nose twitching, smelling blood.

You walked by a door and almost jump out of your skin when you heard a voice spoke, a familiar voice.

“You…Your Poppy’s Angel”

You glance that way, eyes widening slowly as they looked over what appeared to be half of a Dogday costume, but knowing this place it was anything but that.

Your nose twitch a bit at the smell of blood coming from what was left of the Dog’s lower half.

“Come to save us” The costume wheeze a bit “nothing left to save, not here…”

You frown upon hearing that and step a bit closer, eyes trailing over the mix of belts holding the character up.

“Your in catnap’s home,Angel”

And there it was again, the nagging feeling in the back of your head, it been years since someone had called your Angel, the last one to do so was Rich…

You slowly felt your face stiffen and eyes slowly widening in horror a bit.

You could be wrong you really wish you were wrong but from the evidence you seen here and the videos you saw everything was singing a different tune.

You didn’t have a open casket for Rich’s funeral nore did you ever saw his body, you were only told that it was best for you to not see it, to remember Rich the way he was.

Your mind wander franticly trying to remember the last few days before Rich’s death.

You remember being excited about your anniversary, double checking with Rich to make sure he gotten the day off even though he had assured you a millions time that he had.

You made dinner reservations for that day and you had went over to the calendar to write it down so neither of you could forget.

You remember seeing in red pen ‘PlayCare interview’ written the day before Rich’s death.

Oh sweet god.

You made a noise and step back away from the cell before bending over and promptly lost your lunch.

You tried to take in a few deep breaths only to end up coughing a bit.

“Listen to me,you need to get out-“

“Say that again”

His head move a bit, blank eyes covered by ears, now looking annoyingly (you pretty sure he was annoyed cause you were having a bit of a crisis during his speech). “You need to leave” he spoke again, emphasize on the word leave.

You took in a deep breath and rubbed your temples “Trust me I’ve been trying since the moment I got here, I…I need you to say Angel again” you spoke, a bit embarrassed upon the request, but you did have to make sure.

You heard him wheeze again, you were sure it was a chuckle,he looked at you annoyed(this time you were sure).

“Angel”

You recognize that tone, the same tone Rich would you when you stared to get on his annoyed side.

“Rich?”

Dogday’s eyes widen (as much as they could since their eyes were already big )

And saw a peice of fabric start to move bring him, wagging like a tail.

“Angel?” He ask softly.

You took in a deep breath.

“Fuck”

(Hope you enjoy part 1, it might be a two or three parter)

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someonealreadyhadmynickname · 10 months

Text

Dad headcanons | Leon S. Kennedy

warnings: pregnancy

I picture Leon being in absolute bliss when you break the news to him. He’ll be laughing while hugging you. He’s never had a normal family, and I believe he would want children of his own. He’ll be so happy he won’t be able to erase a dumb smile from his face for the rest of the day.

Reads lots of articles on parenting and baby development.

A worrywart. One day several noises woke you up late at night and you discovered your husband babyproofing everything in the house. Turns out he was so worried he couldn’t wait til’ the morning.

You have to be very careful about mentioning your cravings because this man is driving in the middle of the storm if that means getting what you want. You’ll have to physically stop him from going out at ungodly hours just because you crave some donuts.

If it were up to him, you wouldn’t even get out of bed. He has to be holding your hand when you use stairs, no matter how many times you’ve tried to convince him you are totally capable of doing it alone.

“What’s next? I’m not allowed to use scissors?”

Your laugh slowly quietens as you notice Leon’s thinking face.

“... I don’t see why you would have to use scissors”

One day he came home with a big present box and when you opened it a german shepherd jumped at you. He got a trained police dog to keep you company. (Not before making extensive research on the best family dogs, of course).

On top of that, he would want to hire someone to help around the house because the thought of you being alone makes him worried sick.

He’s so silly. Talks to your belly all the time. When he comes home he always greets you with “how are my babies doing?”

He goes crazy with baby stuff. Clothes, plushies, bottles, toys, everything he sees in stores ends up in the baby room. The room is so full of stuff you two had to keep some things in the attic. He has promised to stop buying things several times but there’s always something that catches his eye and he has to get it.

“And this is a baby monitor— I know that face, you don’t like it”

“No, I love it, it’s just…”

“Yes?”

“You already bought one of those, love”

“Aha! No, I bought a different one. Now, you see, the one we had doesn’t had all the features this one has…”

Strikes me as the kind of guy who would want to wait a bit before telling people about the pregnancy… However, he ends up spilling the beans two or three times. Also, people kinda catch onto it because all he talks about is about children’s development.

Sometimes you wake up at night to find your lover lying awake, watching at the ceiling. Truth is, he can’t help but worry about your child’s future and spends hours thinking about it; but when you ask him what’s keeping him up, he always answers that the excitement of becoming a dad won’t let him sleep.

Will do the impossible in order to be with you during the delivery. He has warned his superiors months in advance that he needs to rest during the days when is probable the baby is coming. In the worst case scenario, where he isn’t able to make it in time, he is gonna be regretful for a very long time.

Definitely cries the first time he holds his baby.

He randomly wakes up at night and goes to check the baby. He’ll sit in front of the crib and stay there for a while, sometimes he picks the baby up and just holds them. Will always give them a kiss on their forehead before leaving.

Converses with the baby. He could be feeding them, or changing their diaper, and he talks to them as if they could understand him. Tells them about his day, how work is going. If you two were ever to argue (which is very rare and, if you do, always with a certain joke air), he is bringing the baby and puts them on his side. He looks at the baby and asks “can you believe this?”

You’ve found him watching baby cartoons not noticing the child is long asleep.

He is beyond cheerful because everytime you are carrying the baby, they raise their tiny arms to his dad wanting to be held by him.

Asks Claire to babysit whenever you two go out on dates.

Which he later regrets because now, everytime the baby sees Claire, they reach out for her. Even if Leon is carrying them. Makes him a bit jealous.

Your baby walks and talks very early on because of how much time Leon spends with them.

Every parent believes their kid is exceptional, but Leon could win the proudest dad competition. As your child grows up, Leon is so amazed by every milestone they complete. “I’m telling you, this child is going places”, he tells you the day your baby learns to roll over.

You mentioned to him once how cute you thought albums were, so now you two keep one for your kid. He takes terrible photos, but you think those are very adorable and keep them in the album.

Takes playtime seriously. He isn’t like those parents who don’t even care about what’s happening and leave at the middle of the game. Tea party? He is wearing his best clothes. Pretending to be spies? Won’t break character. He will be bashful if you catch him tho.

He has this ongoing thing with your child where they try to build the biggest sandcastle everytime you go to the beach.

He always says ‘I love you’ when saying goodbye. Once your child hurriedly kissed his cheek and pretended to leave, but Leon stopped them and said: “Everytime I tell you I love you, I mean it, it’s not just mindless words. Do you mean it?” He knows that, and god forbids it happens, he could not come back home one day. So it’s crucial for him for his child to understand how much he loves them.

It breaks his heart to leave his family so often. On one occasion he overheard your child begging you to talk to their father and ask him to please stop going on missions.

I picture him having a daughter.

The kind of man who takes his daughter to dates. Everytime he brings you flowers, he has another bouquet for his princess.

Your daughter is a performer. She makes up dances and songs and performs in front of you two.

Once, when she was young, she told him she wanted to marry him. He answered he couldn’t marry her because he is already married to you, to which your girl replied “Can I marry uncle Chris then?” Leon hasn’t recovered from that.

Maybe a bit delusional but you two invite over his D.S.O friends for Christmas, Claire and Chris included, and everyone brings a present for your daughter.

He’d like more than one kid, but often worries about what would happen to his family if he ever goes missing, so for now, another one isn’t in the plans.

Lying by your side at night, he sometimes thanks you for the opportunity to have a family.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #re2 #resident evil #resident evil 2 #fluff #leon headcanons #tw pregnancy

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bitchlessdino · 10 months

Note

okok i'm here for a request

wonwoo as your coworker who you've been having an office romance with - which you have been taking as a joke. everyone thinks you'll get together, and you play along with that. but wonwoo is very serious.

so late night booty call from coworker!wonwoo? or maybe drunk dial to wonwoo and the aftermath the next day (fucking in the office)

Pairing: wonwoo x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.9k

tags: office au, feturin bartender!chan and coworker!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet name

author note: hi bee ily bee, you're messed up for this bee. but im worse for producing it gdjgwkjg. anyways enjoy wonu rot

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro

Wonwoo is a handsome guy and it was clear as day to everyone in the office. You like having a bit of his attention. He’s funny and quite friendly with you, but that is perhaps because the first time you met you had the courage to fight with him over the last jam-filled donut in the break room. Since then, there’s never not been a reason to talk as if you’ve known each other forever.

You admit some of the socializing you’ve been having with Wonwoo is more than what you do with any other coworker, let alone friend, but you were just playing along and it was too late to go back. Besides, both of you know what this is. All this talk was simply harmless flirting, playful jokes, and lively banter. You make it clear at the end of it all that there is nothing between you and Wonwoo, that things are as platonic as two subordinates can get.

You can’t say the rest of the office believes that though, seeing as so many of them with jealous glares in your direction or the nudges from the suspecting coworkers that ‘lowkey ship’ you two together as if you were some characters in television.

“Ugh, you two make me sick. Just get together and have beautiful children already.”

You and Wonwoo shared a harmonious chuckle together, one louder in humor and it wasn’t the man dashing in a silk silver necktie.

“I wish I could, but they like to sleep on the left side even though I also sleep on the left side and I don't know how that would work,” Wonwoo knocks against your shoulder

“Not to mention he likes cats way more than dogs and the fact that we could never really be together because we’re just good coworkers.”

“Right,” he lightly punches, indicating agreement. “It’d be a really bad idea if we were actually together.”

You raise your brows, almost offended. “Woah, woah. I never said it was really bad.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

“Lover quarrel I hear?” Mingyu butts in after getting his morning joe. “They’re always at it at this time of day.”

You roll your eyes at the giant. “All I’m saying is. I and Wonwoo are good together at work. Just work. Dare I say he’s a good work husband, even if he steals the last of the pastries—“

“Will you ever let that go—“

“No—and that’s all there is everyone. Sorry to disappoint.”

The crowd gives their share of snide smirks before dispersing. Mingyu is the last to stay behind, a Cheshire smile on his face. “Sure, you two. Just keep your hands to yourself around here…if you can help it.”

You were about to throw a light kick at the man before he started scurrying off, leaving you and Wonwoo in your lonesome as always.

“They mean no harm by the way,” Wonwoo points out, “but if it bothers you that much, I can tell them to lay off.”

“Nu-uh,” you reply, shaking your head, “and make me look like a buzzkill? I don’t mind the back and forth. Just don’t anyone get the wrong idea that our jokes are actually serious?”

“Yeah, because it’d be just awful to be caught dating someone like me.”

You groan at his choice of words. “That is not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. This is why we wouldn’t work together.”

Wonwoo shrugs, a smile on his face that truly does brighten up a whole room. God, no wonder people think you’re dating him. What single man smiles like that? “Alright, sweet face. Fine. Who cares what they think? We know left from right, okay?” There’s a hint in his tone that says otherwise but you decide to ignore it.

“Okay, good. Anyways, what are your plans tonight? Up for another night of Valo queue?”

“I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” You say wiggling your eyebrows. “Hot date?”

“Maybe? Haven’t met them yet.”

You’re playful expression fades. “Oh, actually? Wow. You must be…excited.”

He shrugs, freshening up his mug. “It’s nice to have plans outside of binge-watching TV at home, so a little bit.”

Your smile can’t seem to reach your ears until you’ve found a way to find the humor out of it. “That sounds nice. I wanna be set up—Wonwoo don’t you have any hot friends?”

Wonwoo feigns thought, clicking his tongue, now noticing the watch on his wrist. “Well, would you look at the time? Back to work.”

You sneer at him leaving you unanswered, following after him to continue the rest of your day. This is how most days went. Outside of work, you shared your personal interests with him, such as video games—perhaps adding to the assumption that you both seem very couple forward—but otherwise, that was all. There was nothing else that made you more than people who work in close proximity together, and not by your own fault either.

Despite this dynamic, Wonwoo is a private person and you only know what he lets you know. Perhaps, that’s why you are so dead set on keeping the formality the way it is. Who knows the type of person he is behind doors?

You try not to be curious about him for the sake of your circumstance, but the thought of Wonwoo and his date stays in the back of your mind, pestering you like an insect well into the afternoon until after work. That’s when you decide to hit up the local bar, grab a drink—or 5–and catch up with your favorite bartender, Chan, to see what he’s up to. He’s normally a good distraction, seeing as he can talk circles around any subject while jumping from one to the other, and you think it starts to make you forget why ever you came in the first place.

However, ‘drunk you’ does whatever the fuck they want, even if ‘sober you’ says otherwise. You seem to forget that every time you go out, perhaps because you think you’ve overcome that part of you after a while of not drinking. Truth was you haven’t.

“Hellooo…”

The dial tone plays on the other end and you continue your incessant greeting until you’re met with a familiar and confused sound. You automatically grin, clutching the device close to your ear in hopes of hearing his voice again.

“Wonwoo…are you and you having fun…”

You hear shuffling in the background, unaware it was Wonwoo checking caller ID to make sure it was you. “Are you doing okay?”

“Me? I’m great…how are you bud? Buddy? Companion? Bestie?”

“Okay. Where are you right now?”

You chortle, glancing back at Chan who is preoccupied with other customers but watching you from the corner of his eye concerned. “Hehe, I’m with a friend. A very handsome friend…”

Chan lets out a light chuckle before finishing up the drink and handing it to the person waiting. He strolls out to you, listening in on the rest of your call as he pretends to clean up glasses.

“Handsome friend?” Wonwoo repeats.

“Very handsome.”

You aren’t sure what’s going on with you, but you feel the urge to simply narrate everything around you, making sure the man on the other line hears every word.

“Is there a reason you’re calling me, Y/n?”

You hum against the phone in pondering. “Just…because. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Chan lightly scoffs at the scene, almost seeing the pink in your eyes as you speak to whoever is on the other end and politely asks for your phone. You pout at him, denying him the device, but with a stern look, you melt into mush and soon obliged.

“Hi, you must be Y/n’s friend right? They’re at the Carat Club right now and it looks like they’ve had enough to drink.”

Wonwoo hums into the phone before responding back cautiously. “Are you the handsome friend?”

Chan grins hearing the hint of jealousy. “Why yes, I am.”

“You don’t sound that handsome.”

“Well, you can judge for yourself because I’m also the bartender here. If you aren’t too busy, I’d really appreciate you getting them home. I’ll keep an eye on them but I can only do that for so long with the rush we’re having.”

There’s a moment of silence on the phone that makes the young bartender think the calls have dropped until the gravelly voice on the other end begrudgingly agrees, quickly hanging up right after.

Chan sets the phone back to your side, doing what he’s promised to do. After some time, he recognizes Wonwoo right away by his frantic arrival and the bartender waves him over. Wonwoo scans your current state with a frown creasing his eyes. He tries shaking your sides, and see how little effect it makes.

“How much have they had to drink?”

“A couple of cocktails but by how early they’ve gotten here I assume they haven’t eaten. Best to take them home before it goes right through them.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo, picks you up by your limp arms and supports your side in the direction of the door. When he’s out of sight, he quietly curses to himself about the accuracy of the bartender’s appearance before settling you in his passenger seat.

His goal is to get you rested and safe. Seeing as your driver's license is doctored from the city several hours from where they are, he assumes it is in need of an update, and tries to pry your address out of you. To no avail, nothing useful comes out from your drunk slurred lips and he ends up taking you to his home, dumping you on his bed, and tucking you in.

You don’t remember anything after the third drink: making that call to Wonwoo, or the debacle of trying to get you home, or his persistence in climbing up the flight of stairs in his own home with the extra body weight. You can only assume the worst when you wake up the following day in a foreign bedroom; your internal alarm was clock accurate as always. You jump from the sheets in pure fear, scanning your surroundings for an owner, when you realize you still have the clothes you wore to work the day before.

Promptly, Wonwoo walks towards the bedroom you occupy from the wide open door and greet you, a smile on his face. “Good, you’re up. Work is in an hour, I’ll get you there.” “Wonwoo, where am I?”

“My place. I would’ve taken you home if you had been more cooperative.”

It takes your eyes some adjusting but you soon realize the lack of clothing on his body, warranting the smooth, broad, and muscular appearance of a Jeon Wonwoo you wouldn’t dare dream of. You gulp at the sight taking it in before hearing him chuckle as he crosses his arms to obscure the view, forcing your eyes on his face that was bare of the thick pair of metal frames you are used to. Instead, you see his eyes, overflowing with warmth you worry you’d stumble upon seeing them. “Extra bathroom at the other end of the hall. I can lend you a shirt.”

“T-thanks.” You say before he disappears in order to get ready for another day.

You quickly finish what needed to be done, taking advantage of the oversized shirt Wonwoo left you behind and somehow making it work. Soon enough you’re off to the office, in his passenger, only time sober and a lot more self-conscious.

“Did I do or say anything weird?”

He lets out a deep, familiar chuckle. “Depends. What’s your definition of weird?”

You try thinking of an answer but none would come up, having you change your mind about getting his prompt response.

“If it’s any consolation, you didn’t get sick like I thought you would, and you were mostly asleep.”

“That just means I was a mess,” You whine.

“Perhaps, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Wait, what about your date? Don’t tell me you—“

“She canceled and I had nothing going on. You called at a good time.”

“I called you?” You question him in bemusement.

“Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

His repeating that phrase does something the chemical in your brain, retracing the dents of his torso as if they’re right in front you, glistening against the sun rays peaking out of the windows. The smile on his face makes your heart pound a little harder than you’re used to, and now you’re noticing the veins on his hands as he grips the wheel.

You feel yourself swallow. Hand to heart, you pat down as if trying to manually regulate it, but ultimately fail as Wonwoo continues to speak. This must be the embarrassment talking.

“For a second, I thought you called me to confess your undying love for me or something.”

“What?” You ask laughing a little too hard, for once grasping the humor in the situation with difficulty. “Why would you think that?”

“For one, you were drunk. It seemed likely.” He clears his throat, trying to focus on the road. “And maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Those words settle into you like hot cement, frustratingly slow, and before you finally answer, you’re already back at work, following Wonwoo as you leave the car. When both obviously arrive together, the usual attention has multiplied by tenfold, and the treatment feels different than normal. More flustering a suffocating after the night you’ve had. Wonwoo is the only one to notice as he calmly escorts you to your cubicles, leaving the questions of your coworkers unanswered.

You aren't sure why they’re comments are getting you like this now, making you feel hot, hands clasped against your cheeks like a bashful child, but it bothers you throughout the day, forcing you to keep mostly to yourself. Its then Wonwoo, sends you a note, meeting him for lunch alone knowingly while everyone else planned a meal out. You hesitantly oblige to his request and when the time came around, it’s unexpectantly timid, awkward, and nerve-wracking. That’s not how monets with Wonwoo are supposed to go.

“You’ve been quiet.”

You bow you head. “Sorry.”

“Why are you being sorry?”

“I didn’t think I was bothering anyone.”

You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.“Well, you were bothering me. Talk to me, joke around with me, be mean to me I don’t know. The silence is annoying me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Apologizing again? Look at me.”

It was difficult given the predicament you’re in, but he forces you to anyways by lifting up your chin between his fingers. You watch a dark storm brew in his eyes and now you can’t bare to tear away.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

You don’t get it. For the past year, you’ve known him, there's only ever been amicable looks or gregarious smiles at a maximum, but in the deep pit of your stomach bubbles a new sensation that has finally festered enough to rise to the surface. You clench your legs in instinct, eyes fluttering back at him as you let each breath take a slow turn.

Intuitive as always, Wonwoo sees that shift in your eyes. It’s disturbing, daunting, and tempting all at once and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

With the break room wall behind you, he pushes you against it, claiming your lips and body until there is no way of escaping. His lips are soft against yours, but moves languidly and impatient, and the grip of his hands on your hips drains the energy out of your lower body. You attempt to chase his vigor, hands against your neck as you suppress your moans at how he kneads your flesh through your slacks only to press your thigh to his side.

“So I’m what’s wrong?” He asks in a low rasp against your lips.

You naturally hold him by the back of his neck, his nose nuzzling against yours. Wonwoo feels your lips part to speak, but he is in a daze by how soft they felt only seconds ago. “You are far from what’s wrong,” you finally answer.

Ridding of inhibitions and doubt, Wonwoo opens the storage closet behind you and shoves you in to lock you both inside. His hands run up your body needily, desperate to taste the skin underneath the shirt you’ve borrowed. You help him undress the same way he does to you, and your pristine pressed Van Hausens fall near your feet like rubble.

His lips then fall underneath your chin, trailing your neck, he refrains from leaving too much pressure but is almost swayed by your natural scent mixed in with his shampoo. He roughly plants you against a mostly empty shelf, the ice cold metal somehow burning your skin. He helps you tug off your slacks finding that sopping cunt that’s been dying to have him discover them since this morning.

“For me? Just for me?” He wastes no time shoving his hand down the frail fabric of your underwear and gliding his thick digits over your wet slit. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself this time.”

Your voice reveals itself, saying his name in a way you wouldn’t dare let another person hear as long as you lived. He repeats the action, watching you crumble in front of him like award-winning cinema.

“I never heard you speak like that to me. I could get used to it.” He find your ear, his cat-like smile forming before his lips closes around your skin and his whispers cause the ripples of chills down your spine. “Say my name like that again for me, darling.”

You tremble under his touch, feeling his fingers dip into your heat enticingly. “Won…wooo…”

He lets out a soft and gentle moan, and the heat of his breath fans your pebbled skin. “Such a pretty little thing. I’ve dreamt how you’d be like this for me so often.”

“You…have?”

He presses a lingering kiss on your neck. “More than I can be proud of.” He curls his digits before taking light jerks, his thumb rubbing your arousal around the circumference of your clit. He drinks in your pretty pants, teeth grazing back at your skin. “You like me touching you? Aren’t I being such a good work husband?”

Your eyes screw shit, mouth etching open to give him a well-deserved praise, “So goo—“

“Where are my keys,” a voice breaks outside the door.

Wonwoo seizes his fingers from you and clamps them over your mouth, your arousal basically coating your lips and his eyes staring back at you intently.

“Where did they go anyway?”

Wonwoo shushes you with pursed lips. “Better be quiet.” His tone is stern but his actions say otherwise as his zipper comes down in a fraction of a second. “It’s in our best interest not to get caught, right?”

His name muffles under his palm, squeezing the life out of your cheeks as he exposes the bulging cock that’s been fighting away at him since he kissed you. Your eyes dart in their direction, beading perspiration across your forehead, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as his cock draws closer to your fluttering heat.

Your eyes double their size and then shrink to half the size once he’s inside you. His raw, long heat pushes into your core inch by inch, and you feel the necessary evil to bite down his palm. If Wonwoo was bothered by it, he doesn’t show it as he claims you with deep strokes, having your hands rest against his firm pectorals in reluctant trust. His low grunts can only be heard by you and the slight fog in his glasses is apparent the closer he thrust into you, even in the dim closet lighting,

Outside these walls still is a confused Mingyu, not foreseeing the event occurring behind a door mere feet away. “Maybe, they went somewhere else for lunch.”

You audibly squeak within the tight space and Wonwoo shushes you again, knocking back into with a curt but harsh slam before forcing your walls to hold his cock inside you like a natural plug. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, darling. I’m not done with you yet.” An accumulated thrill runs through your veins at the thought of being caught, taking every thrust with pressure and liquifying at the devious smile on your rumored boyfriend’s face.

“No they’re not here,” the intruder says to a voice unheard from their distance. “…Coming!”

His footsteps noticeably scan the perimeter once last time before they retreated further and further away.

“Finally,” Wonwoo breathes out, “now I have you all to myself.” Although he states that, he doesn’t let go of your mouth, in fact, you swear his hand is getting tighter and now his face closer, finally processing the spearmint on his breath “We should still be careful. Can you be quiet for me?”

You quietly nodded, grasping at his body desperately, gesturing for him to keep going.

He scoffs. “My darling being impatient?” He pulls out almost his entire length before shoving back into you, earning a feeble tremble. “My. Cock. Making. You. Needy. Hm?”

You nod back at him, holding back your tears, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“Eyes on me, darling. Your work husband is need of your attention while I fuck you senseless.”

Shallow breaths escape your nostrils, finally meeting his eyes, which seemed to have lost the thick barrier of his glasses somehow already set on the shelf behind him. “Would you like for me to cum in you?”

You gingerly nod.

“Will you listen to everything I say when I let go of your mouth?”

Like a glitch, you nod the same exact way.

“Such a good little darling.”

His cock fills you up as naturally as breathing does. While his lips are home against yours, tongue entangling to the point it becomes sex itself. Your hushed moans are music to his ears and bear motive as his cock plunges deeper and harder inside you. He doesn’t mind how you bit his lips, nor how your nails drag against his back, rather he revels in it, doubling over you to push his cock inside you deeper until you're unable to contain your screams and he’s forced to silence you again.

You whisper how you’re close and it’s a natural drug, encouraging him to only ram inside you and claim the sweet sound of your orgasm coating decadently around his cock. He handles it rather gentlemanly, fairly as his cock is next to ripple in climax, shooting his thick over churned honey until it fills your heat until the point of fully occupancy. His arms come around you in a firm grasp, bruising your lips until you’re imprinted with the memory of him.

You let out light pants, awkwardly thanking his promptly done tasks before you’re whisked away again by his perfect, salvia-sheened lips. “That was very…superb.”

Strange adjective but it’s done the job, you think.

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles in a way that tells you things are far from over and you’re proven correct when he brings up your legs, thighs crushing his cheeks that splays the most impish smile. “But we still have 15 minutes of our lunch and a man’s gotta eat.”

Part of my 3K Follower StayCation!!!

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n

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theemporium · 4 months

Text

this is the first instalment of a mini 'wisdom teeth blurbs' series that i am doing as my last wee bit of writing for this year! and it only feels right to start out with my first babies<3

series masterlist

The engine came to a stop once Daniel turned the key in the ignition, letting silence settle in the car as the dental practice loomed past the windshield.

“I can’t believe this.”

Despite the pain pulsing along his jaw, Daniel couldn’t help but smile a little as he turned to look at you in the passenger’s seat. “You aren’t even the one getting the surgery, Sunshine.”

You let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in your seat as you glanced over at him. “Maybe they can sedate me too.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” Daniel assured you as he leaned over to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and giving you a soft squeeze. “They’ve done it a thousand times before. I’ll be in good hands.”

“I know,” you murmured before you shifted in your seat, turning your body towards him. “Do me one favour?”

“Anything.”

“Smile for me.”

Daniel’s brows furrowed together as he tried to hold back his laugh. “What?”

“Smile one last time in case they ruin my favourite smile,” you said, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which only made the Aussie laugh harder. “Danny, I’m serious!”

“I know,” he said with a shake of his head, leaning over the console to take your face in his and press a quick kiss on your lips. “My smile is still gonna be here afterwards and I’ll smile all you want. Promise.”

You sunk into his embrace, nodding. “Okay. Let’s go in before they start wondering why we are lingering here.”

Daniel snorted. “You still good with driving my car after?”

Something in his chest tightened at the way your face instantly lit up. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna be doing donuts in the car park while you’re inside.”

…

“Mrs Ricciardo?”

Your cheeks heated up as the nurse stepped out, head peeking around the door as she looked at you with a smile. A part of you knew you should have corrected her, but another part of you didn’t want to. You quickly gathered your belongings, following her as she led you through the different corridors until you reached the office Daniel was sitting in.

“MY WIFE!”

Your face was burning as every pair of eyes settled on you, but your focus was the boy lying on the chair. He was grinning at you, mouth stuffed with bloody gauze and a blissed out look on his face that only laughing gas could give a person.

“Hey, baby,” you smiled as you approached him, barely in arm’s length of the boy before he was tugging you close. Before you could even say anything, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, settling his head against your stomach. “Someone missed me.”

“He’s been asking for his wife ever since he woke up,” the nurse said with a kind smile on her face. “Kept on telling us we would never believe how pretty she is.”

“Oh wow,” you murmured, though your stomach warmed at the thought.

“He also wouldn’t allow us to let you in until we assured him his smile was still perfect,” she continued and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Your smile is still perfect, baby,” you assured your boyfriend as you looked down at him, fingers lightly pushing his curls back from his face.

“Really?” His wide eyes staring up at you, full of love and adoration.

“Really,” you confirmed as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you back home.”

“Cuddles?” He asked hopefully.

You laughed, nodding. “All the cuddles you want, baby.”

“I have the best wife!”

#daniel ricciardo #formula one #f1 #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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persephonewritessometimes · 1 year

Note

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.

Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?

Smut n fluff

Please

Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full

Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.

"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.

"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.

"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.

"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."

"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.

"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.

"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."

"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.

"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."

"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.

"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.

"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.

"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."

"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.

"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."

"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.

“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.

“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.

I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.

“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.

“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.

“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.

“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”

“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.

“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.

“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”

“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.

“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.

“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”

“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.

“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.

“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”

“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”

“My…hands?” He says slowly.

“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”

“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.

“They’re big,” I whisper.

“And what does that make you think about?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“No, no I want to hear you say it.”

In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”

“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.

“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”

“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.

“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”

“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.

“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.

“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”

“I understand completely, sir.”

“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.

“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.

“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.

“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”

“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.

“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”

“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I understand!” I blurt out.

“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.

“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.

“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.

“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.

“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”

“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.

“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.

“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.

“Green,” I say quickly.

“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.

I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.

“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.

“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.

“Try again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Daddy.”

“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.

“Daddy, people will see.”

“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.

“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”

“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”

“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,

“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.

“Daddy, please, too much.”

“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.

I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.

“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”

“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”

“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”

“Okay, let me grab a condom.”

“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”

“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.

I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.

“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.

“How long was I out?” I say softly.

“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.

“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”

“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.

“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”

“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.

“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Good, because I don’t want you to.”

#hotch x y/n #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch smut

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gojo-enthusiast · 5 months

Text

Choso Kamo ~ My Little Porn Star

Master list here

Your boyfriend admits to watching porn, so you have an idea to help him never wanna watch that cheesy shit again.

18+, MDI, p in v, clit stimulation, blowjob, facefucking, video taping, consensual.

Word Count: ~ 1.3k

“Hey Cho- I’m home!” You call out to your boyfriend. You and Choso’s had been in a relationship for 3 years now. You two had met at a little donut shop at like 5AM on a Sunday. It was love at first sight! He asked for your number within 5 minutes of talking.

“Hey love.” He says softly. Despite Choso’s built stature, and him towering over your short stature, he was so timid in his speech, quiet, well spoken. People would think, because of the tattoos he had all over, he came off scary. The way sometimes when he let his hair down and it covered, part of his face— he just looked unwelcoming.

“How was your day baby?” You say, smooching his cheeks, planting kisses all over his face. He chuckles. “It was fine, tiring. How was yours?” He asks, looking up at you with tired eyes. “Oh my baby, you look so sleepy.” you say pouting your lip. “Yeah I am actually. I think I might get to bed right now.” He says, standing up, kissing your forehead.

Something felt off, he usually didn’t leave so quickly, even when he was tired he would lay on the couch with you, and fall asleep.

“Hey Cho, you okay?” You ask, walking into the shared bedroom. “Hmm? Uh- yeah.” He says avoiding your gaze. Yep, you knew something was definitely off.

“Cho, what’s wrong? You can talk to me.” You smile. “I- look it was an accident…” he starts to say, causing you to worry. “What do you mean baby?” You ask, sitting beside him on the bed. “Okay, listen. I came home, and I was- well, you know- sometimes when a guy, feels- well.” He is stammering. “Choso! Spit it out.” You kind of chuckle. “I watched porn.” He spits out, “I was really pent up since you were on your period last week and weren’t feeling good. And I just, I don’t know. I needed to blow off some steam, and I kept trying to imagine your tits bouncing, but it was hard to visualize it. So I watched some cheesy ass porn. But I feel horrible.” He says covering his face with his palm’s.

“Baby that’s it?” You chuckle, “What- what do you mean that’s it? You’re not mad?” He huffs,

“No baby, I mean I don’t necessarily like my boyfriend watching porn, but I get it. It happens!” You smile, kissing his cheek. “Fuck— I don’t deserve you.” He smiles, kissing you back. You see that dog like energy start to emerge in his eyes. You lean into his ear, and whisper—

“How about we make our own video.” You say with a smirk. “Our-own?” He chokes out. “Yeah, you can video tape me bouncing on you, or to start off, you can tape me sucking you off.” You say, starting to place sloppy kisses on his neck.

“Fuck— yeah. I wanna do—that.” He says panting.

You grab his phone, opening up the camera and switching it to video, “Now you won’t feel the need to watch those cheesy ass fake videos. When you can have the real deal.” You say giving him the phone. You see him press record, and you start unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down to his ankles. He kicks them off to the side. “Mmm- someone’s excited to see me.” You say, pulling his boxers down- caressing his length against your cheek. “Fuck—“ he mutters, you see his hands shaky. “Hold the phone still, don’t you want to save this for next time?” You say, starting to lick the tip of his length. Pressing the tip of your tongue onto the hole of his tip.

“Shit— fuck, that feels good.” He whimpers, you start putting his tip into your mouth, sucking lightly, swirling your tongue around. You start pushing your mouth deeper into him, feeling his cock go into your throat, your gagging. “Fuck yes— choke on it.” He moans, starting to thrust. He’s still recording you, face fucking you. “Wait.” He says, playing the phone upright on the night stand, so the camera can get a clear view from the side of you getting your mouth fucked. He grips you by the back of your head, slamming into your mouth. And finally after a couple thrust, he cums deep down your throat, he pulls out & you’re licking your lips. Catching your breath.

He picks the phone back up, laying on the bed on his back. “Sit on it. Now.” He demands. You loved when he got rough with you. He was usually so sweet and loving in bed, but when his demon side came out, he was ruthless.

“Plant your feet on the mattress, and hold my thighs for support. Hover that pussy over my cock. I want to watch it go in and out.” He says, so you do. He wanted you to hover over his cock, and dip your hips down, to go in and out. He’s recording it all up close. Turning on the flash, so he can see it go in and out, stretching you out. “Fuck- yes you dirty slut.” He groans, starting to rub your clit while you are bouncing on his cock.

“Yes- Choso, just like that.” You’re moaning, feeling the knot in your stomach. You see him place the phone upright against a pillow so it’s perfectly showing your pussy and him fingering you. “Keep those fuckin legs spread. Don’t fuck up my video.” He hisses, starting to thrust into you from below. He’s being absolutely ruthless, destroying your cunt. He was hitting your g spot perfectly, and all while he’s doing so, he’s rubbing your clit.

“CHO-SOOOO. I’m gonna cum baby.” You’re yelling out. “Fuckin’ squirt on this cock baby.” He groans, chasing his release. He’s pounding into you immaculately. And after 4 pumps, you’re squirting all over his cock, and chest. He grabs the camera zooming in, showing the cum dripping down his cock from your cunt, and the way there is a ring at the base of his cock. Still pounding into you, fucking you into overstimulation. He’s grunting, and groaning all in the video, and your moans are filling up the video and room. Finally you drop down into his cock completely, falling onto his chest. “Fuck— cho… that felt amazing.” You’re moaning out.

He had put the camera landscape mode, on the night stand, then flipping you over, fucking you again. “CHO- AGH WAIT!” You moan out in a yelp. He was feral, there was no stopping him.

“Shut the fuck up, and take it.” He hisses, taking your tit into his mouth, sucking and nibbling. Then going and leaving love marks all over your chest and neck. You knew it would be a bitch to cover those up tomorrow, but you didn’t care. He had your legs over his shoulder and had your legs almost pressed against your chest, fucking you into hell. “This pussy is heaven.” he groans, cumming into you. Fucking his cum into you, filling your tummy up.

It went like that for another round, fucking you on your side, then doggy. He was done after doggy, your face was in pure ecstasy. He had flipped you over, and came all over your stomach, and face. Spreading your legs, he grabbed the camera, recording your state. Then switching to the photo mode, snapping a photo of your leg spread, with his cum all over you, while you were sucking your finger that had his cum on it.

“Fuck I should make this my Lock Screen, anytime anyone sees it, they will know how good I fuck you, & how good I got it.” He smirks,

Leaning down, planting a kiss on your lips. He gets up, picking you up bridal style. Taking you to the bath. “You’re so smart baby, that was the best idea.” He says kissing your cheek. “I’m glad you liked it.” You tiredly smile. “You’re gonna have to wash me, I can’t move.” You chuckle.

“Anything for my little porn star.” He laughs smacking your ass.

Like & Reblog ✨🫶🏻 ~ okkkk goodnight

#choso kamo smut #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso smut #choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x you #choso x y/n #anime smut #anime fanfic #anime #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen

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wolvesbaneandbuttercups · 9 months

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Pro tips from a therian who was open about being a therian in high school for others currently/about to be in high school:

If you wear a tail to dances, hold onto it when out on the dance floor because freshmen will pull on it. Anywhere crowded really depending on your school you're gonna want to hold onto it while walking.

REPORT PEOPLE. If they bark at you, report it. If they pull your tail, report it. If they yell at you, threaten you, throw food at you, etc, report them. It dosnt matter if you're reporting so often it annoys the school staff, do not let those people feel like they can continue their behavior because it is not appropriate.

If you are someone who likes to fight back, do not bark or meow whatever back at them. Here's alternatives though: make direct eye contact with a blank/dead stare for an extended period of time. Bring a bag of dog or cat treats to give them. Say "badboy/girl! no barking/meowing!" in the tone of voice you'd use for an animal or say "whos a good boy/girl??".

Be yourself, don't let the bullies stop you from being you because dollars to donuts you're gonna inspire others to be themselves as well (I know from experience) and it'll draw the right people towards you.

that's all I can think of for now but those are my best tips, stay strong and don't let bullies get to you! you are valid and awesome

#therian #otherkin #transspecies #alterhuman #otherkin community #therian community #alterhuman community #alterhumanity #other kin #otherkind #otherkinity #therianthropy

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makeitmingi · 3 months

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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 11]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

You tilted your head, staring at the bouquet that was now sitting in a glass vase on your counter top.

"Staring at it isn't going to make it grow legs and walk, darling." Seonghwa chuckled from behind you. You rolled your eyes, straightening up and turning to walk to the fridge. You grabbed a tray out and put it on the island.

"I'm still in shock, Hwa. A little empathy or even sympathy would be greatly appreciated. I've never gotten flowers from anyone before." You said.

"Wow...."

"You don't count." You hissed. You grabbed another tray from the fridge. But this one was covered with aluminium foil.

"What are you trying?" Seonghwa rounded the counter and came back to where you were, peering over your shoulder. You removed the foil to show him the second tray.

"I'm trying to see if I prefer the flavour of a dry brine compared to a wet brine for monk fish." You explained.

"Because it's meatier and tougher?" He tilted his head. You nodded.

"Usually for fish, we use a wet brine but since monk fish is so firm and can act like chicken or red meat, I was thinking if a dry brine might enhance the flavour a little more." You said. You took the pieces of fish out of the flavoured water, patting it dry between two pieces of kitchen roll.

"What's in the dry brine?" Seonghwa asked, taking a brush to help you brush off the salt seasoning mix on the surface of the fish. He wasn't going to wash it or it would get rid of too much flavour.

"One has salt, white pepper, kombu, dried shiitake. The other has salt, black pepper, rosemary, thyme, bay leaf, garlic and a hint of sweet paprika."

"Not smoked?" He turned to you.

"No, as much as I wanted a herbier, heavy flavour combination, I didn't want to overpower the flavour of the fish." You shrugged.

"Good choice. Especially since the monk fish can be sweet, it only enhances the natural sea water flavour that's already there." Seonghwa hummed.

"How should I cook it without impacting the flavour...?" You scratched your head.

"Ooh, you're making me think of a monk fish curry now." Seonghwa smiled, almost drooling at the thought.

"I said I don't want to impart any of flavours, Hwa. If we make a curry, all the dry brine flavour will be overpowered." You slapped his arm. In the end, you decided to lightly steam half of them and pan sear the other half. Seonghwa helped you manage the pan.

"As much as we should, we shouldn't baste it. Even butter will affect the taste." Seonghwa said. You agreed. When the fish came out, you left it to rest for a few minutes.

"So, you want to talk about that?" Seonghwa nodded over to the vase of flowers you were looking at.

"What's there to talk about except why did you put it in a vase?" You raised an eyebrow.

"You just left it on the table, sweetheart. They'll die if you just leave it like that, you have to put them in some water to let them survive." He rolled his eyes.

"Oh, so you're the flower expert now?" You asked.

"We're digressing here... Tell me what he said to you when he gave you the flowers." He said.

"I already told you. He wanted to 'cheer me up' and give me energy so he got me sunflowers. And he thought sugary sweets would also do the trick so he got me donuts, which were rather tasty, by the way. I'll be curious to try more flavours from the shop." You shrugged and took the tray of fish to start slicing.

"And what did you reply to that?"

"I said thanks and split the donuts with him. You know I don't eat sugary things much... What else was there for me to say or respond to him?" You questioned.

"Well, I guess it's the first time he's seen you in your... grumpy tantrum mode..." Seonghwa sighed.

"I wasn't grumpy and/or throwing a tantrum." You frowned.

"Sweetheart, there was a literal dark cloud floating above your head." Seonghwa chuckled. You glared at him with a small pout before focusing back on slicing the fish pieces.

"Okay but that's all? You didn't say anything else?" Seonghwa went back to the topic.

"Oh. I... patted him on the head..." You said, remembering your actions. Seonghwa's eyes widened before he burst out laughing at your words. You sent him a flat look for laughing at you. You ignored him and put the fish slices on plates.

"HE'S NOT A LITERAL DOG, (Y/N)!" He exclaimed amidst his laughter. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words.

"I know! I didn't mean to, I don't know what came over me so I just reached out to pat his head. It's not my fault he caught me as I was snoozing." You muttered.

"Still... You must have surprised him." He laughed, wiping a tear that had formed in the corner of his eye.

"Now that you're done laughing at me. Here." You handed Seonghwa a fork with gritted teeth. You both dug into the fish, quietly tasting and savouring each one for their different tastes.

"Oh, wow." You were amazed.

"The different dry brines bring out such different flavours." Seonghwa said as he chewed.

"Between the dry brines, the delicate seasoning of the kombu one fits steaming method while the heavier seasoning benefits from the pan sear." You noted.

"I think because the pan sear toasts the herb flavour on there like how we usually toast our herbs to bring out the aromatic oils. So after searing this piece, you taste a lot more rosemary, thyme and paprika." Seonghwa theorised. You nodded your head, writing all this down in your iPad journal.

"It takes on more flavour with the dry brines. But the texture is softer with the wet brine." Seonghwa took another piece.

"I think the dry brine has been able to remove more moisture so it's firmer in texture. If serving on it's own, I would like the dry brine. In stews or curries, wet brine for sure." You concluded.

"Should we do something with monkfish for tomorrow's dinner service then?" He suggested.

"Lotte à l'Armoricaine (French tomato based stew cooked with white wine and monkfish)?" You looked through your recipe archives.

"Good idea. Since it is served with rice. I think customers will like that." Seonghwa nodded, moving to start on the dishes. You took a piece of paper to write this down.

"The supplier said he has some nice pears so shall we make baesuk for dessert (Korean poached pears)?"

"Yeah. What will you poach them in?" He asked.

"If we go Korean inspired, I think a light honey, ginger poaching liquid. Maybe add some pink peppercorns instead of black peppercorns for a more berry-like flavour. We can accompany it with yuja sherbet and candied ginger." You said.

"That sounds good."

"I think we should do burgers tomorrow. Cheese stuffed burgers with bacon on top and caramelised onions. Koreans love burgers and fries." Seonghwa laughed.

"That doesn't sound too bad though. But I'd hate to be the one stuck on deep fryer duty." You cringed.

"We should do at least one savoury dish that has Korean flavours." Seonghwa reminded.

"Hmm... Scallop, kombu angel hair with perilla oil? It's light on the taste buds." You scrunched your nose, trying to come up with a dish and flavour profile.

"That'll work. I was thinking for appetisers, we can do mussammari (Julienned vegetables wrapped in a thin slice of pickled radish) with a gochujang sauce." He finished the dishes and sat with you.

"I like that. We can grill pork collar with salsa verde. And beef carpaccio with brine tomatoes and shredded shiso leaf." You turned to him. Seonghwa thought about the flavour profiles and nodded while you wrote it down. If Wooyoung and Jongho wanted to add other dishes, they were free to. Any of them could.

You put the paper aside, leaning back against Seonghwa's shoulder. Tomorrow's morning bake items had already been decided so you didn't need to brainstorm on what to bake.

"Tired?" Seonghwa asked.

"Not physically. But my brain is, I think it's fried." You sighed, closing your eyes.

"You don't need to tire yourself out so much. Don't think and overthink too much. It'll only lead to faster burnout." He said as his hands massaged your achy ones.

"I know..." You said.

"Hwa?" You called out. He hummed in reply.

"You don't have to always take care of me and watch out for me, okay? You have to make sure that you take care of yourself too." You told him.

"I know." He replied, reply identical to yours. He knew you always felt guilty that he was constantly taking care of you, especially because you're known to not take care of yourself. But Seonghwa didn't see it as an obligation to care for you, he just wants to.

"Don't feel guilty or bad. You take care of me too, (y/n). We take care of each other, it's what we do and what we have been doing since we've met." He said.

"But you take care of me so much more."

"It doesn't matter who does more, you shouldn't worry about that. We're best friends. No one is measuring." Seonghwa chided.

"I just don't want to hold you back from anything. Like you said, we're best friends. And I would want you to venture out and do what you want to do, what's best for you." You sighed.

"What I want to do is be here with you. My best is being by your side. You're not holding me back." He comforted.

"Sure? Promise me that if I am, you tell me." You looked up at him.

"I'm sure. And as silly as that is, fine, I promise." He said. You held up your pinky and he chuckled but laced pinkies with you, stamping it to seal the deal.

"Tch, we've been glued together for so many years and you're still worried about all this. I already told you the day that we met that you're not getting rid of me so easily. That's why we never had any other friends growing up, except each other." Seonghwa playfully scolded you, flicking you on the forehead.

"Oww!" You held the place his flicked. Seonghwa clicked his tongue, knowing you were exaggerating. He didn't even hit you with so much force. He would never actually hurt you.

"So technically, you admit you're the reason I was a loner growing up?" You raised your eyebrows in accusation.

"You weren't a loner. You were with me and that's more than enough." He scoffed.

"That's true. You always made sure I wasn't left alone, Hwa." You giggled. You couldn't really remember a time where you and Seonghwa were apart.

Sure, you weren't spending every waking minute together but you've both never really let the other person feel lonely.

"Alright, it's time for an afternoon nap." You stood up, stretching your arms over your head.

"Shall I order Vietnamese food for dinner? I know you've been craving it." Seonghwa said. You were not shocked at this point that Seonghwa remembered something that you casually said in passing. You nodded your head excitedly.

"Yes. I would like bun bo hue (spicy beef noodle soup), pork tau hu ky (fried beancurd skin rolls with pork filling) and lemongrass pork please." You ordered.

"Okay." Seonghwa took it down.

"What are you having?" You asked as you laid down in bed, getting under the covers. Seonghwa took the spot beside you.

"My usual, bun rieu cua (tomato, crab and pork noodle soup). And some other sides to add on." He said, scrolling on the menu. You hummed, snuggling into your pillow.

Seonghwa has a large appetite so you could usually order a variety of food and he'll help you with finishing them.

"Go to sleep." Seonghwa put his phone down, turning to you. You hummed again, already starting to drift off. Seonghwa was always encouraging you to sleep more since you've had insomnia for as long as you can remember. It could build up and lead to you sleeping for a few days. Hence, you being sleep deprived the other day.

"Hwa, it doesn't mean anything, right?" You asked, half asleep.

"What?" He was confused by your question and what you were referring to all of a sudden.

"The flowers... He's just nice, right? I shouldn't be mulling over it or thinking that it means anything more." You clarified. Seonghwa was quiet for a while.

"If he meant something else, I'm sure he would have said it. Yunho wouldn't do one thing and mean another." He said.

"You sure?"

"We've known the guy for a like two weeks, (y/n). There's nothing really to be sure about when we barely know him. I'm just stating based off intuition and observation so far." He chuckled.

Yunho smiled stiffly as he sat at the table with his parents and younger brother at their family favourite steakhouse. He wasn't listening to their conversation at all, only plastering a smile but his mind was elsewhere.

"Hyung, what's up with you? Your head is in the clouds." Yunho's younger brother, Gunho, teased. Yunho sighed, his head wasn't in the clouds, just focused on something else.

Or rather, someone else.

"Is it work, Yunho? Something with the restaurant?" His mother asked. Yunho shook his head.

"No. It's nothing, don't worry about it. Sorry for not paying attention." He bowed his head, cutting into his steak and taking a bite.

"Which reminds me, we should pop by for dinner one of these days. You know, to support hyung." Gunho suggested to the two. It was true, Yunho's family had not visited since the opening.

"That's a good idea. But we don't want to pressure you, Yunho. We'll go when you're ready." His father smiled.

"Thanks, appa. I'm confident in my team. So please, when you're all available." Yunho smiled. His father was a lawyer and his mother was an accountant. Yunho knew that they were always trying to make up for the fact that they were never around while the two were growing up. But Yunho never really blamed them.

Them being busy also meant that Yunho was able to form such a deep and rich bond with his grandmother. And that was something Yunho would never, ever regret.

"That is exciting, I can't wait to see how things are." Mrs Jeong said with a big grin.

"As long as you're not helping out in the kitchen, hyung." Gunho snorted, making Yunho glare at his younger brother.

"I'm a lot better now. I'm slowly learning small things to help out in the kitchen. My head chef is always ready to teach me." Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Oh, tell us about him." Mr Jeong said in interest.

"Her, actually. She's an amazing chef, the whole team is. They work well together and you can tell when you watch them. It is almost like watching an orchestra play." Yunho explained.

"They must have been working together for a long while then." Mrs Jeong said.

"Yeah, they've known each other for a long time to know each other's likes, dislikes, work habits, skills, everything. I think you will be just as impressed by them as I was when you come to the restaurant." Yunho smiled proudly.

"That's good, Yunho. I'm glad you found a team that can work well not only amongst themselves but with you and your friends too. Good job." Mr Jeong commended.

"Thanks, appa. I couldn't have done it without my friends as well, especially Mingi." Yunho chuckled.

"Ah, you and Mingi hyung are inseparable as always." Gunho said.

"We just went to his mother's restaurant the other day to eat and see how she is doing. She sounded so happy that her son is working in the food industry too." Mrs Jeong giggled.

Of course with Mingi and Yunho being best friends since middle school, their parents were also close friends.

"San's father was proposing a fishing trip for all the fathers soon." Mr Jeong laughed.

"The mothers should take a trip too while the fathers go fishing. You all deserve it." Yunho said, glad that his parents were friends with his friends' parents. Mrs Jeong smiled softly, her son was always so caring and considerate of others. Mr Jeong nodded in agreement, raising his glass to clink it against Yunho's.

"But Yunho, I take it the restaurant has been well?"

"Yes. Business has been going well and we've been receiving lots of compliments and good reviews despite being so new. I pray it'll only go up from here." Yunho said.

"We know you can do it. If you ever need any help, you know you can always ask us." Mr Jeong said.

"I know, I am very grateful for that. But I hope to not rely on both of you, I want to be independent in this." Yunho spoke firmly.

"You're right, that's a good thing to want." Mrs Jeong reached over to pat the back of Yunho's hand. Yunho nodded his head with a hum, holding his mother's hand.

"However, you should make sure to have some time for yourself. Find a girlfriend." Mrs Jeong added.

"O-Omma!" Yunho stuttered nervously.

"Aren't you just gonna marry Mingi hyung?" Gunho laughed. Yunho kicked Gunho under the table, too flustered to respond back to the teasing. Yunho's mother was always invested in Yunho's love life, encouraging him to 'venture out' and find a partner.

"Dear, he's too busy running the restaurant. He doesn't have time to find a partner now." Mr Jeong said, taking a bite of his food. Yunho agreed with his father.

"Plus, I'm not in a rush to find a girlfriend, omma..." Yunho muttered.

"I can only dream, can't I? Both you and Gunho don't have girlfriends, I want a daughter to pamper and do girl things with."

"What sort of girl things?" Yunho asked.

"Oh, you know. We can go shopping, do mani pedis together, go get our hair done, all that stuff you can do with a daughter. You boys never want to do anything with me." Mrs Jeong scoffed.

"Omma, sounds like you have your own motive in wanting us to get a girlfriend." Gunho pointed out.

"Of course I want you both to be happy too! Who knows, maybe Yunho can settle down and start a family." She said.

"Alright, I think we're thinking a little far here, omma. Who knows if I'm going to settle down with the next person I date? But anyway, I'm currently focused on getting the restaurant up and running before looking for a partner." Yunho spoke. Honestly, he hadn't thought about settling down or starting a family.

"Like I said, I can only dream." Mrs Jeong sighed dispairingly.

"Look, omma, when the time comes and I meet the right person, then I'll start thinking about all that." Yunho said, trying to somewhat appease his mother.

"Sorry to say hyung, but you can be a little... how do you say? Oblivious when it comes to girls." Gunho snickered.

"What do you mean? I'm not oblivious." Yunho said.

"When a girl tries to flirt with you, you always think it's just her being a nice person in general. Meaning, you don't flirt back or reject her. You're too impartial to everyone you meet." Gunho explained.

"It's good to be impartial. And being nice isn't a bad thing, Gunho ah." Yunho crossed his arms.

"But you never know, someone might misunderstand your kindness as something else. Let's hope your future girlfriend doesn't get jealous."

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monseulamourrr · 4 months

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→ “of pink sunsets and cotton candy kisses.” || ahn yujin x reader fic.

— a nice and eventful day out with your girlfriend gives you the peace and relaxation you’ve needed for a while despite it all being unexpected…

word count: 1.3k

tags: tooth-rotting fluff once again!

requested? : nope.

a/n: this is for the wonderful @vex91 🩵🩵 this kind of came out of the blue so i hope it isn’t too messy 💔 i hope you all (especially vexie!) enjoy this one! ☺️

when your girlfriend told you that she was going to give you your well-earned rest, you thought would hand over a free admission to the local spa and massage salon or treat you to a nice dinner by the beautiful lake but then again, your girlfriend is ahn yujin. and ahn yujin was full of surprises.

she stood beside you with her eyes a million times bright than all the colourful lights that surrounded the two of you. she took note of your bewildered and utterly confused expression and laughed as she gently nudged your shoulder with her own. the smell of cinnamon and a whole lot of other sweet things start wafting into your nose, the sounds of machinery and the different music coming from numerous speakers were tantalizing despite your confusion. you turned to your girlfriend (whose eyes did not leave your face the entire time you let everything sink in) and spoke in a quiet voice, “the… fair?”

“THE FAIR!”

a couple of people turned their heads to your direction, making you slightly bow down yours as a small apology. yujin seems unaffected, however, slaps the all-you-can-ride wristband on your arm, “there was no way i was gonna let you miss this, of course! we’re gonna go on every ride, we’re gonna eat a lot of food, and we’re gonna be happy.” she said.

she pulls you aside so the two of you wouldn’t be in the middle of the pathway. yujin looked pretty under the golden lights of the giant carousel the two of you have decided to stand beside in. she takes your hands, “you’ve been wanting a break for a while. and i thought this would be fun. we don’t really do this often.” she raises your hands to your lips and gives them a soft kiss. “is this okay?” she whispers, this time with a quiver in her voice.

“are you kidding?” you smiled at her, then looked around. the entire place was bright with lights, music, energy, and happiness. this was the next best thing yujin could’ve done for you. “it’s more than enough.” and then you kissed her hands in return, grinning when she noticeably got shy.

“come on then, let’s have some fun!” yujin puts a fox ear headband on your head and a dog ear headband on her own before taking your hand and dragging you towards the nearest intense ride in the area.

it was more like yujin was going to have fun and you were going to scream your head off. she made sure to drag you to all of the scary rides. not only will she have the time of her life laughing at you but because you would hug her arm so tightly and refuse to let go the entire ride. was it worth the playful hits on the shoulder after? totally.

at least you beat her on almost all of the carnival games though. except for the ones that involved shooting balls through hoops—yujin played basketball a lot in high school, after all. she won you a lot of stuffed dolls and after the fourteenth doll, you had to drag her away from a game even though she absolutely refused. (she just really wanted to win you that giant snorlax plushie!)

last but not least, the two of you snacked on the variety of food that the fair offered! from corndogs, candy apples, rolled ice cream, shawarma, and (your personal favourite) mini donuts! yujin had insisted on sitting on one of the tables near the stage inside the fair. there was a live band that performed a variety of songs and you teased yujin about going up there and singing with them (since the band was inviting some audience members to sing and show off their talent) but she bashfully refused. always so humble about her talents!

“you’re such a messy eater.” you grabbed a napkin from your bag and wipe the ketchup from her lips (she was eating pigs in a blanket, saying that they looked too cute not to be feasted on). yujin grins while you cleaned her face up, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

“thanks, love.” yujin says as you trashed the napkin. you pinched her cheek as a response, getting a whine in return. you then opted to watch as the band sang for the crowd, nodding your head along to the music.

(apparently, yujin much rather preferred watching you. her eyes were fixed on your face the entire time the band played. and even when you caught her staring and teased her for it, she refused to look away. happiness looked good on you. yujin wanted that feeling to be constant—even better if she were the one to make it so.)

what to do for the final hour? walk around the park right beside the fair where it was much more quiet, and where the two if you were offered some scenery as you decided to rest in the middle of a bridge. the stream underneath it ran smoothly along its path and you found joy in just staring as the sun reflected on it.

you averted your gaze from the stream to the skies above. a mix of orange, purple, and mostly pink. beautiful.

“look what i got us!” ah, speaking of beautiful. yujin approaches you with two sticks of cotton candy; hers was blue, yours was purple. “i couldn’t resist the kid that sold them. i swear this is our last snack today.” she leaned on the railing as you did, taking a bite out of the sweet stuff she had and humming in approval right after.

the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with only the sounds of the water running and the distant music accompanying you. you move closer to yujin, laying your head on her shoulder as you stared at the trees in the distance. you feel her rest her cheek on your head, and she wraps her free arm around your waist loosely to keep you close.

“did you like all of this, (y/n)?” yujin asked. you feel her thumb caressing your hip. you feel safe.

“of course. this is the best day i’ve had in a while,” you raised your head slightly. all your worries and troubles seem to just melt away when you look at yujin. “so thank you.” you lean close, laughing slightly when your foreheads bumped against each other by accident, and gave yujin a kiss so light it made her want more.

she doesn’t ask for more, she simply takes it. politely, of course. yujin tilts her head and catches your lips in a searing kiss. you giggled at her enthusiasm but you returned the affection with the same energy, your own free arm snaking around her back and clutching her sweater. her lips tasted sweet, must be the cotton candy. you liked it.

yujin pulls you closer (maybe she tasted the cotton candy on you too), never really having enough of your kiss and always needing more. a gust of wind blows towards your direction and what with yujin melting you into a puddle, your grip on your cotton candy stick loosens, making you accidentally drop it into the stream.

“shoot—sorry, yuj.” you apologized, watching as the water washed the cotton candy away along with its stick.

“it’s okay,” yujin gives you a kiss on your temple and pats your head. “we can share this one!” she said, raising her cotton candy to your face. well, with a smile like hers, how could you resist? you took a bite out of the blue cotton candy, humming in approval at its delicious blueberry flavour. yujin couldn’t resist kissing you again, making you giggle but it was welcomed.

“i’m glad you enjoyed this day, (y/n),” yujin presses her forehead against yours. “and i want to give you more days like these. if you let me.”

you laughed softly and gave her nose a small kiss, “i’m looking forward to it all, love.”

the two of you spent the rest of your time there on that bridge—warm and happy while sharing cotton candy kisses underneath the pretty, pink skies.

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beanibon · 1 year

Text

Mermaid!Vash x Reader Headcanons

A slight continuation of the Mermaid!Knives but instead with the sweet boy that is Vash.

Reader works at beach Cafe, who leaves food out for the anonymous 'stray dog' they think wanders the beach. Always mentions of Mer!Knives and his partner from previous submission cause why not.

TW: interspecies sex, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, impregnated reader, marking, belly bulging, cockwarming.

🚫 Minors DNI 🚫

Mer!Vash oftens wanders from the underwater observatory to people watch on the beach not far, sometimes dragging Mer!Knives who tags along only to entertain his brother.

Mer!Vash who gains a particular interest in a certain section of the beach as the Cafe there makes his mouth water from the smell of food.

Mer!Vash catching a small glimpse of you as you serve customers from the outdoor porch, head cocking to the side in interest as you laugh alongside your regulars, happily patting a young child's head.

Mer!Vash who pouts as he returns to Rem and his brother, jealously watching Mer!Knives pregnant partner comb his hair with their fingers. Blowing bubbles in the water until his brother chases him off for being annoying.

Mer!Vash returns on a regular basis, edging closer each time to watch with shining eyes as you work, head resting in his arms as he basks in the morning rays as smiles whenever you do.

Mer!Vash becoming surprised at the donut and quartered sandwich on the waters edge one morning, daring to snatch the food before anyone sees.

Mer!Vash finding that every morning there'd be more food left along the shoreline, a sense of happiness at the sight. It wasn't until later in the day that Mer!Vash noticed some humans handing you some weird coloured seaweed after grabbing their own food did he begin leaving his own 'payment' in exchange for the food.

Mer!Vash who watched you as you retrieved the white plate, frowning at the colourful shells and dried up sand dollars. Shrugging as you just thought some kids probably used it to keep their finds safe, leaving them somewhere further up the beach. This made Mer!Vash pout in confusion.

Mer!Vash appearing one morning only to find the Cafe empty, dark and void of life, no food left for him as usual. It was a day he normally didn't visit, but he couldn't stand watching everyone around him being all lovey dovey while he remained alone, even his cold brother finding someone.

Mer!Vash swimming up and down the beach until he spotted a familiar figure on the rock bed, a book in hand, a pack on donuts and some weird container you put to your lips every now and then.

Mer!Vash who made a chirping noise a little too loud, causing you to look up and lock eyes with him, mouth wide as you jumped back slightly upon seeing the unusual creature.

Mer!Vash approaching slowly, eyes never leaving you as he reached up and rummaged through the bag of donuts, happily eating one despite the way you pulled the bag away earning a high pitched whine from him.

Mer!Vash blinking as he rested his head on your lap, placing some sand dollars in your in your panicked hands at the sudden contact.

Mer!Vash who listened to your disbelief of figuring out you weren't feeding a stray dog but a mermaid, making him give you a goofy smile as you reluctantly gave him your last donut, eyes lighting up as he grabbed it.

Mer!Vash who purred as you gently began scratching at his damp hair, earning a tired yawn as he pushed his body up onto the rock beside you, body wrapping around you as he laid his head in your lap, arms wrapping around your legs.

Mer!Vash pouting as you nudged him awake, attempting to get up and leave as the sun got hotter, causing him to cling to you and nuzzle into your side.

Mer!Vash eventually letting you leave after you promised to come back, telling him to meet you back here.

Mer!Vash doing as you said and returning, noticing how you'd swapped your clothes for a swimsuit and a loose white button up that kept you somewhat warm in the morning ocean breeze.

Mer!Vash lapping up the way you call him over, face reddening as remove the white shirt, sliding into the water nervously as he swam faster to you excitement evident in the way he circled you and nudged your body further into the salty water.

Mer!Vash pulling you into the deeper parts, holding you close as you were clearly nervous about not feeling the ocean floor under your feet, pulling Mer!Vash closer and yelping at the sudden colder water.

Mer!Vash who swallowed thickly, nuzzling into your chest, echoing a long, drawn out octave that made you look down at him, becoming aware of the many scars and surgical steel plates that adorned his upper torso.

Mer!Vash whimpering as you traced each one, hands caressing the uglier ones with such a gentle, loving touch. Mer!Vash looking up at you as you pressed your lips against a particular nasty one on his shoulder.

Mer!Vash biting his bottom lip as he moved his arms, hands turning your head to reveal a portion of your neck. Before you could question him, sharp teeth bit down making you cry out and panic at the sudden pain, gasping at the sudden feeling of something being injected into your neck.

Mer!Vash gently licking away the blood, watching as the mark was already healing yet holding his mark in place, offering you a goofy smile as you just stared at him.

Mer!Vash nibbling at your jaw, before pressing his lips to your in a gentle, inexperienced kiss hands pawing at your chest as his tail wrapped around your body.

Mer!Vash watching as you panted heavily, half-lidded eyes watching as he disappeared under the water, tugging your bikini bottoms off and nuzzling against your pussy, hands positioning your legs around his neck as he began mouthing your clit, your sudden cry of pleasure muffled by the water.

Mer!Vash suckling on you until you come, fascinated by your body's reaction, he takes you back to the rock bed, head resting on you chest as he unsheathed himself, cock pressing against your thigh.

Mer!Vash slowly entering you, watching as your face contorted hands squeezing his shoulders at the unnatural inhuman cock inside you. It took you a while to get use to his girth, Mer!Vash happily cockwarming you until you relaxed, adjusting to the intrusion.

Mer!Vash bucking into you, arms wrapped around your waist so you didn't scratch your back against the harsh surface of the rock behind you. Whimpering loudly as you fit him so perfectly, whether you agreed or not, it perfect to him as he buried his face into the mating mark on your neck. Something that would be difficult to hide at work, especially in the summer.

Mer!Vash becoming more desperate as he picked up his pace, your moans like music as your arms found a place in his neck, a hand tangled in his hair.

Mer!Vash looking up at you, gently pull your head down to face him, signing his name.

Mer!Vash chirping a long, pleasure filled octave as you moaned his name, making him cum instantly.

Mer!Vash ignoring you as he continued to ruthlessly fuck you, turning you over so he could press himself into your back, hands squeezing your breasts as he pumped you full of his seed a few more times.

Mer!Vash finally stopping, nuzzling into you as you groaned, pleading him to pull out. Instead he just turned you back around, pulling you into another sloppy kiss before falling asleep.

Mer!Vash waking up to you shivering, as you glared at him telling him to pull out before you catch a cold. Of course confusing the poor boy, as he didn't understand humans can't be in water for long periods of time. Obliging as letting you go, you gasping at the sudden emptiness of his half hard cock, watching it disappear as you clenched your legs.

Mer!Vash whining as you exited the water, only to realise you no longer have bikini bottoms on, grabbing for your white shirt and making a poorly made skirt out of it. Turning back to him and ruffling his dried hair, teasing the soft tresses as you cupped his face to give him a kiss.

Mer!Vash who couldn't contain his excitement and shaking Mer!Knives awake to ramble on about his new mate, playfully slapping his brother awake each time he tried to fall back asleep.

Mer!Vash who stayed away from the underwater observatory for longer periods, meeting up with you to bask out in the sun curled around your body like he was some oversized water cat.

Mer!Vash who blinked up at you in disbelief as you told him you were pregnant, eyes slowly shining as he jumped up, pulling you, your favourite book and the half eaten donuts into the water as he kissed you.

A/N: hiya guys! Hope you enjoyed this little continuation of my mermaid au, I'm actually having so much fun writing these and I'm already planning on doing a Wolfwood one, so stay tuned for that!

Again feedback is much appreciated and requests and asks are always open 💜

Tags: @boiledhotdogwater

#trigun smut #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash smut #vash x reader #vash x you #vash #vash the stampede #knives millions #million knives #trigun merboys

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thisismeracing · 1 year

Text

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 03

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, twitter environment, mention of food, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

summary: some things are not passing unnoticed by the fans, Y/n and Mick are getting closer and bolder with their interactions and some people seem to be into discovering and watching all this unfold.

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

part. 02 | series masterlist | part 04

theofficialyn posted on her stories

theofficialyn

liked by sza, mercedesamgf1, and others

theofficialyn It was not bring-your-dog-to-work day, just roscoe-misses-you-and-I-need-a-babysitter day, turned out to be one of my best days in the Paddock hahaha

view all 4,209 comments

charlescarlos The way Angie Schumacher is looking at you I just know she's in love like her dad jajaja

⤷ user20 no, but why did I have the same impression

charles_leclerc we need a Yn-appreciation day

⤷ estebanocon I'm gonna tell your nutricionist you're eating donuts in the morning

⤷ theofficialyn It was after lunch, it's not considered morning!!!! 🙄

⤷ sainzf1 their dynamic looks so chaotically funny lmao I would love to watch all the interactions

ynraindrops Who did you have breakfast with? I spot a second plate...

⤷ theofficialyn Someone who prefers juice to coffee and don't approve ice cream on top of the pancakes in the morning 😔

⤷ ynfrance SHE ACTUALLY REPLIED HAHAHAHAHA

⤷ tayloryln @mickschumacher is that you, honey? sounds like you

mercedesamgf1 💜💜💜💜

mickschumacher

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and others

mickschumacher A slightly different kind of day at work 🖤

view all 5,102 comments

sunshineschumi why do I got a feeling it was yn who posted this (aka the last pic)

sebastianvettel HAHAHAHAH it was a great day

⤷ bejewledts I bet even sebs love yn

theofficialyn it was so much fun working with those two! 💜💜

⤷ mickschumacher me and angie loved working with you too

⤷ theofficialyn I meant roscoe and angie 😜

⤷ fan12 LMFAOOOOO I LOVE HER

hamiltons2 "you're doing amazing, sweetie" last pic HAHAHHAHA

royallynyln It's nice watching two people fall in love 🍿🍿

yn1990 It's missing a picture of Y/n on this photo dump

⤷ theofficialyn I'll make sure to add on the next one 🫡

⤷ heelshighyn She's so active lately it's refreshing HAHAHAHA

⤷ energydrinkcars Not y/n causing a havoc on the fandom lmao

********************

If you liked it, make sure to like and reblog <3 feel free to talk to me as well, my inbox is always open!

wanna be tagged on my stories? click here

#mick schumacher imagines #f1 imagine #social media au f1 #black!reader #hamilton!reader #king of my heart ms47 #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x black!reader #famous!reader au #ms47

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ohworm-writes · 7 months

Note

I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT STATION 141. PLEASE. for a friend definitely not for me thinking about how fucking FINEEE good they would be.

「✰」 ━━ STATION 141

RATING PG-13 - Parents strongly cautioned [ Content warnings : light cursing, depictions of a vehicle accident, fires, mentions of injuries, references to and depictions of smoking, peer pressure (?), depiction of a house fire, mentions of and references to 9/11, implications to alcoholism, brief mentions of guilt and insecurity ]

SYNOPSIS Character explorations for the members of Task Force 141 in the case that they opted towards working for the fire department instead of the military, expanding on what the roles they play are, their backgrounds before pursuing the profession, and a few headcanons, here and there.

WORD COUNT 4.9k

Station!141

Firefighters are known for being dorks and pranksters outside of their profession when they’re trying to relax and ease the tension that comes with the job, and Station 141 is no different. Gaz and Soap are the resident pranksters, of course, and perhaps that comes with being the youngest out of anyone employed at the station. But, unfortunately, that leaves Price and Ghost to deal with their tormentation, both the acts and the aftermath of it.

Soap and Gaz do simpler, more tame pranks. Something like dumping water over someone’s head, pieing someone in the face when their backs are turned, or if they’re dozing off, switching the salt and the sugar—that kind of stuff. Simple, annoying pranks—those are elementary. Ghost and Price are evil when it comes to pranking, or, more accurately, getting people at people for pranking them. They’ve replaced the water in the ice cube trays with hotdog water, put cling wrap over the toilet bowl, replaced shampoo with hair dye, and done other things that you wouldn’t even dream of. The two of them get really creative with it.

Gaz very quickly stopped pranking the two after Ghost snuck into his house and hid those really loud alarm clocks with the bells everywhere, setting forty of them up to go off in the middle of the night. When they went off, he screamed so loudly that he swore he had a heart attack because of it. Soap’s a masochist, though, and he keeps on pranking the both of them without any sign of stopping. He’s never able to one-up Ghost or Price, though, that’s for certain. It’s a challenge for him, though, and it’s fun (sometimes, not often, though).

Granted, most firefighters already do this, but making fun of, taunting, and mocking cops is a given, and the 141 boys are no different. Soap hooked a donut onto a fishing line once, positioning himself on top of the firetruck, staying hidden, and dangling it above a cop when they were visiting the station one time. They locked onto it quickly. Another time, he did the same sort of thing but left a donut on the floor attached to a fishing line, pulling it closer towards him any time a cop tried to come close to it. Also, plain and simple: making pig sounds.

They do have a fire dog of their own at the station, actually! And, of course, ever the classic choice, it’s a Dalmatian. In terms of technicality, it’s the Chief’s dog, given that he bought the thing... but, ever the generous man, he allowed the station to adopt the dog as their own. They all fought over the name for days, with some individuals actually getting heated about the matter. Price eventually got sick of it, went down to a pet store, and printed out a tag for the pup, a circular tag that reads the name ‘Ozzie’ with the station’s address printed on the back. Nobody argues against it.

Soap isn’t the biggest fan of dogs as is, but Ozzie loves him, trailing after him and following his lead without hesitation, the others often joking about how the animal played his shadow better than his own did. Ozzie’s the only dog he likes, but he won’t admit it aloud, giving the dog a playful rub on the head here and there when someone’s around and roughhousing and playing freely with him when they’re alone. Gaz and Price are unabashed in their affection for the canine (Price has bought everything for this dog, he swears it), while Ghost is more or less neutral about his presence, but he won’t deny him a good rub behind the ears if he barks enough.

Let’s spend a moment talking about and appreciating the uniforms that firefighters wear, yeah? Station wear is typically worn around all the time, even under their PPE uniforms when out on calls. It consists of a short or long-sleeved button-up shirt, sometimes as simple as a t-shirt, which is navy blue in color and often sports the insignia of the department or the station or something of the like or any relevant patches. They’re matched with navy blue or black pants, giving the whole outfit a formal yet equally comfortable look.

As for PPE uniforms, the bunker pants are held up by a set of suspenders and matching jacket, often being either black or tan in color with long yellow or red reflective strips stretched out along the fabric at the chest, waist, shoulders, wrists, shins, back, and legs, with knee pads visible from the front of the uniform. The color can depend on either the rank the firefighter holds or, simply, what’s in stock.

But, just to state it, each and every one of the boys within the station looks good in their uniforms. They fit snugly in just the right places and loosely in others, especially the station wear—not to say the PPE doesn’t do the same, but rather, it looks good in the sense that we can all appreciate a man in uniform, now can’t we? PPE uniforms are designed to not fit snugly, providing more mobility that way, and they’re rather bulky. This, however, doesn’t at all negate the fact that the men within Station 141 look fuckin’ good in them.

As a matter of fact, the boys often get a lot of people who come up and flirt with them shamelessly. Sometimes, it can be a bit of a nuisance, with civilians watching from the sidelines as they respond to a call, making flirtatious and lustful remarks—it's distracting, in more negative ways than positive, in complete honesty. Though, when they’re off duty, maybe dressed in a tee with the station’s logo, they can be entertained.

Gaz was shell-shocked the first time he was flirted with by someone for nothing more than his profession (and, honestly, it pissed him off a little, but he wouldn’t say that aloud), and he was turned into a confused, awkward mess, trying to get himself out of the interaction. Soap will entertain them as much as his attention can handle, but after that? He’s giving polite nods and hums here and there, but he isn’t listening all that much. Ghost just tells people he’s married, even though he isn't—he isn’t all that fond of getting flirted with on the basis of solely his job, much like Gaz. Price, honestly? He could care less. Have at him.

One of the scariest moments that the station went through where one of the boys lives’ were at stake was in the case of a methanol fire that had broken out on the highway as a result of a crash. A car had run head-on into a truck that carried a methanol chemical tank, which had been damaged and spilled. Nothing bad happened until the car involved in the accident caught fire, lighting the methanol and causing an invisible flame to spread. While all of the boys were on scene, Gaz was busy helping one of the civilians out of their car from the wreck when the fire started.

Obviously, immediately, he jumped away from the civilians, not wanting to catch them on fire too—they didn’t, thankfully—but Gaz was left screaming and yelling for help as the fire began to burn through his PPE equipment. Ghost put out the flame with a CO2 ABC extinguisher, realizing what the cause was immediately, but Gaz still suffered through some heavy burns along his back, legs, and arms and rushed to the hospital sooner after being put out.

The first time Soap tried to go down the fire pole during the fire academy, he sprained his ankle, not knowing how to descend it properly and just shooting straight down onto his foot. He was fine, thankfully, but nobody ever let him live it down. Ghost tells him to be careful with this big, smug grin spread out across his face anytime Soap rushes through the fire house to go towards the fire pole to descend the floors (he flips him off each and every time, rightfully so).

Price tries to call out sick every time he thinks it’s going to rain. For anyone who knows anything about first responders, it’s that they hate it when it rains. It’s a guarantee for more accidents, more calls, and, put simply, more work. Price has been working long enough in the field to know this, so he just so happens to catch the cold or the flu any time he sees it’s going to downpour—unless, of course, someone calls in sick before him and he can’t get out of work, or if he fails to check the weather. He’s pissed off for the rest of the day, and he makes it everyone’s problem.

Soap is the one who's driving the truck, obviously, with Price sitting in the passenger’s seat. Behind Soap sits Ghost, and Gaz sits across from him. It’s lively whenever they go on calls together; most of the conversation in the truck is devoted to work, but there are more than a few occasions when they’ll just talk comfortably together. Especially on the rides back to the station from calls, usually when it’s getting late at night. That’s when the most heartfelt conversations happen.

Overall? A dorky yet hardworking group of firefighters dedicated to their professions, sharing a bond like no other.

Firefighter!Price

He, of course, plays the role of ‘Captain’ at the station, primarily due to the fact that this role does actually exist as a role within the profession; while I would have made him the ‘Chief’, the ‘Captain’ plays a way more present role as the commander of a company and overseeing the daily operations of a station. Chiefs, typically, only supervise and view the situation as is, not often actually being a part of the process of resolving an incident.

Firefighter!Price, who, contrary to popular belief, does not, in fact, smoke. It’s not as if he’s prohibited from smoking, per se, especially given that around 13.6 percent of firefighters smoke, but it’s more of a moral thing for him—his job is to fight fires, and cigarettes and other smoking materials make up a huge percentage of top fire causes, so it seems, to him, like a stupid decision to make to smoke. Also, it would affect his ability to do his job, and it just looks bad to have someone that people are supposed to look up to doing something like that, so he doesn’t.

Firefighter!Price, who, okay, yes, has smoked a cigarette and cigar at one point in his life, maybe once or twice, or a few more times than that, but never consistently. It’s not a habit that he has or ever indulges in, only having ever taken part in it thanks to a friend or two offering him a cigarette or cigar, outstretched hands taunting him, and teasing “c'mon, one puff ain’t gonna kill ya’, mate”, to which he relents. He hates the taste of cigarettes, and he refuses to go anywhere near one again, but he can entertain a cigar around the right company.

Initially, he had intended on joining the military straight out of secondary school; however, a few months before he intended on joining, he bore witness to a violent house fire within his neighborhood. The house had been completely engulfed in flames, with smoke pluming into the sky and the flames spreading to a few nearby houses. He watched on with awe as the fire department showed up with swiftness and took care of the situation with ease, resulting in no casualties whatsoever.

Although, yes, the job was far from being a proper equivalent to the military, it still provided a similar sense of fulfillment, and he would still be protecting innocents. (On a morbid note, his life would still be consistently on the line and threatened.) Thus, he joined the profession when he was around nineteen, working as a volunteer firefighter for a few years before eventually taking on the job full-time. He’s worked with numerous different stations and companies for the past ten years, give or take a few, and he’s made a number of different connections throughout different departments.

Firefighter!Price, who toys with his suspenders when he’s clad in uniform like it’s a second job. It’s an unconscious habit he’s developed with the elastic straps, and there’s a certain progression it follows—it's like clockwork. It’ll start off with him simply hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of the trousers of his bunker gear, holding himself there comfortably as he stands and walks around the station—casual, if anything. But then, it slowly starts to progress further, with his hands wandering, his fingers gently trailing up and down the straps, and his calloused fingers brushing over the material in a repetitive up-and-down motion.

Firefighter!Price, who holds onto his suspenders near his chest in a loose grip, his thumbs grazing back and forth over them, pulling them not even an inch away from his chest, just holding them there. That is, of course, before he starts to snap the elastic against his chest, gently or not, it doesn’t matter; the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt as he repeats the action over and over and over again—it's something to do with his hands; he’s restless, and who can blame him?

Firefighter!Price, whose natural scent is simply smoke, the acrid redolence of sulfur clinging to his skin like a parasite, a second skin that he’s come to call his own. No matter how many times he washes his clothes until they start to fade into a lighter shade, no matter how many times he scrubs his skin until it blotches into harsh, raw, red patches, that scent still clings to him. It’s, in a sense, becoming a part of him, molding in with his natural musk effortlessly until it becomes it, a scent identifiable to him, whether that’s for better or for worse, he wouldn’t know.

Firefighter!Ghost

Again, of course, Ghost plays the role of ‘Lieutenant’ at the station, which is a role that falls directly under ‘Captain’, leaving him tasked with typical daily operations, readying their crew for emergency situations, and supervising the Engine or Rescue Company and the personnel within it, reporting directly to the Fire Captain or Chief, acting as a temporary captain, should they be absent from a scene.

Firefighter!Ghost, who kids absolutely adore. He can come off scary and intimidating, sure, given the fact that he’s, put simply, a huge guy, not to mention the balaclava he often sports that conceals his identity. But kids still think he’s the coolest guy in the whole world. Being a firefighter already has its own charms; several kids are asking him about his profession and how their dream job is to become a firefighter when they grow up, like him. He’s a bit awkward, unsure of how to respond to all of the compliments and praise, but takes it in stride.

Firefighter!Ghost, who has to deal with the fact that nearly every kid he comes across adores him, soon decides to just embrace it, honking the horn on the engine any time he passes by kids who wave at him or whose eyes light up when they see the truck, relishing in the way they let out loud, excited yells. Whenever kids come by the station, either for field trips or to simply ask if they can have a tour, he takes up the task of touring them around, lifting each and every one into the truck, watching as they giggle, laugh, and smile so brightly at him.

A close friend of his who became a firefighter from secondary school was the one who eventually got him into the field, the friend in question having joined a little more than half a year after the two of them had graduated, though he didn’t immediately and solely join due to his friend’s encouragement. He still worked as an apprentice butcher for nearly two years after graduating at a local grocery store; that job kept up most of his focus, though instead of joining the military after September 11th, he chose to join the fire department.

(Because the fire department played such a large role in this event, I thought it would match more appropriately than him joining the military, like his background states in his biography.)

His friend was the one to tell him everything he needed to have before joining: his certifications, his license, his CPAT, et cetera. He completed each task without any hesitation or reluctance, and he was even willing to get a degree in Fire Science if it meant he would get into the profession. He passed the academy with ease and, soon after, was offered a volunteer position working at the same station his friend was positioned at, transferring, unfortunately, without him to Station 141 a year and a half later, though the two still keep in touch regularly.

Firefighter!Ghost, who comes back to the station after a long day of rough calls, be it mentally or physically grueling, likely both, hops off the truck with deep, guttural breaths, beginning to strip himself of his PPE as he makes his way towards the locker rooms, hanging and folding everything up, his SCBA first, then his helmet, then his bunker gear, before he finally tears off his balaclava—his hair’s completely damp with sweat, beads dripping down his face, splayed across his forehead messily, letting out an exhausted sigh, running a hand through his hair, slicking the blond strands back across his skull.

Firefighter!Ghost, who takes a seat on one of the benches in the locker room, leans over with his elbows on his knees, his hands falling limp in the space between them, his back slumped over, and his shoulders dropped. His station wear is stained with sweat; the skin around his eyes and across the bridge of his nose darkened from the smoke that had penetrated through, dirt clinging to his body like a second skin. His suspenders hang off around his waist lazily, clinking against the bench as he shuffles around, letting out a long, drawn-out groan before standing and moving to rid himself of the day’s events with a well-deserved shower.

Firefighter!Ghost, whose vice falls to liquor. It’s nothing close to an excessive extent, but it’s enough to take the edge off and ease his mind from the horrors that come with the profession. It's a heavy task to fulfill, and having worked in the field for so long, enough so that he’s become an officer, that means he’s seen his fair share of shit, so who can blame him? After a particularly rough day, he’ll take a seat in the common room or his dorm, hand gripped tightly around the neck of a bottle of Bourbon, mask pulled up to his nose, drinking until his head spins and he can’t think. He'll wake up with a hangover that bashes against his skull, wash his face, and prepare himself for the day, only to repeat this cycle over and over again—maybe it is a bit excessive.

Firefighter!Soap

In a more unique aspect, Soap, instead of simply being a firefighter, works as a Firefighter Engineer, his primary focus being directed towards maintaining and driving firefighting vehicles and performing maintenance tasks on the vehicles. Though, still, he does play his role as a firefighter all the same, his specialized position not interfering or making it so that he has to do one or the other. He’s still put in his time to become a firefighter and accomplish the tasks that come with the profession, and he does his job well; all it is is that he plays a specialized role in addition to that fact.

Firefighter!Soap, whose dorm is positively filled with the drawings and doodles he’s received personally when he and his crew visit local primary schools to teach them about fire safety and how to properly act during a fire drill, spends a significant amount of time telling the kids all about their careers and what they do, giving them a tour of the truck and everything. And, by the end of the day, three or four separate kids had given him drawings they had made of him and his crew. One little girl in particular gifts her drawing to him, and it’s just of him and her, holding hands, his mohawk overexaggerated, with a message written out sloppily, stating, 'I want to be just like you when I grow up!!!’.

Firefighter!Soap, who tapes each drawing he receives to the mirror in his dorm, the one he gets ready in front of each and every day without fail, fingers gently grazing over the different people within the pictures, each messy stroke of crayon, colored pencil, and washable marker. It’s a reminder to him of why he does what he does. Of why he puts his life on the line each and every day without fail. When the job gets tough and unbearable, the weight of it laying heavy on his shoulders, guilt and insecurity eating up at him, he looks at the drawings, memorizing them, committing every detail to memory—he has to make those kids proud by keeping on. And so he does.

He dropped out of university to become a firefighter. He initially majored in the field of Military Technologies and Applied Sciences, specializing in the fields of Explosive Ordinance and Bomb Disposal, but after spending nearly five semesters in school, he concluded that the field and higher education weren’t something he was willing to pursue. So, he applied to become a firefighter when he was twenty-one, spending the first year and a half working towards getting his EMT certification and taking his CPAT, already having his driver’s license, and spending the next six months in the fire academy before he was eventually employed as a volunteer firefighter.

He spent the next two years working as a volunteer firefighter, not yet deciding to take on the role of a full-time firefighter, given he had a bit of apprehension and worries about taking on the job for longer hours. However, it was soon after he first became a volunteer firefighter that he learned about the career path of a firefighter engineer, which garnered his interest, which eventually led him down the path of driver training before ending up with the position and taking on the job full-time.

Firefighter!Soap, who can’t even help the way his muscles flex as he works, which is most visible when he’s in his station wear—that short-sleeved button-up shirt hugging onto his biceps with ease, his pants holding onto his thighs snugly—it's the perfect combination of loose and tight. It leaves nothing and everything up for the imagination to think of. Especially when he’s sweating through his top, the fabric clings to his skin like a glove, showing off every inch of him without shame.

Firefighter!Soap, who is so unconscious of how strong he actually is, regularly wearing equipment that can weigh up to seventy-five pounds (34.01 kilograms), not to mention the weight of the hose and the pressure it exudes, the way he has to control it, or all of the other equipment he uses while on the job. Because he’s so unaware of it, this just leads to him picking up some of the heaviest things—people, too—and acting as if they were nothing, because, to his credit, it isn’t anything to him.

Firefighter!Soap, who is an earlier riser. He wakes up the earliest of anyone who works at the station, being the first one to arrive at work if he’s sleeping off site. He tidies up what he sees, maybe goes out and grabs some coffee or pastries for his co-workers, and just relaxes and basks in the silence of the station—that is, before the others begin to arrive, of course. If he’s sleeping on site? Same thing. The only difference is that he doesn’t have to rush around like he typically would; driving to work takes up the most of his time, so he can work at his leisure if he's already at the station.

Firefighter!Gaz

Gaz, arguably the coolest of them all (it’s not an arguable statement whatsoever; it’s just a fact), gets the job, plain and simple, of just being a firefighter. Responding to emergency calls, performing search and rescues, providing aid with traffic accidents, and educating the public on fire safety are just some of the tasks he completes each and every day. The job is both physically and mentally grueling. Yes, the horrors that can come with the job are unlike any other, but god, is it such a rewarding profession to be able to see the direct result of your actions

Firefighter!Gaz, who actually really enjoys having new recruits shadow under him their first few months on the job. Even in meeting them for the first time, he has such a welcoming and warm personality, not at all shy to introduce himself, how long he’s been working in the field, the ups and downs of the job—everything! He spends a lot of time getting to know the recruit, not just in a professional sense but a personal one, too, and it fosters such an accepting environment that the recruit can become comfortable in, which is the whole goal!

Firefighter!Gaz, who can be stern sometimes when it comes to teaching newer recruits, but those occasions come far and few between, favoring a gentler, kinder approach of encouragement and redirecting and teaching the recruits on how to properly hook up the truck to a hydrant or operate the pressure controls for the water on the truck as opposed to yelling and barking out orders with a firm strictness. The Chief typically sends all of the new recruits over to Gaz for this exact reason, and, as you might have guessed, these recruits become professionals in no time.

Unlike the others, Gaz actually had the intention of joining the fire department since he was young. He was one of those little boys who had a number of different toy trucks and cars and played with them obsessively, and his favorites were the firefighter trucks. His dream of becoming a firefighter was solidified when they came to his primary school one day. One of the firefighters present gifted him one of those crappy plastic helmets, letting him sit in the truck and telling him everything he wanted to know.

From that point onwards, he dedicated himself to becoming a firefighter, spending years getting himself into the ideal physical shape required for the job, taking medical and health courses throughout secondary school to prepare himself for the EMT training program he’d apply to take once he turned eighteen, obtaining his license as quickly as possible—he's devoted to the career path, and he fully intends to push every ounce of his being into fulfilling the role to the best of his abilities, and then some. The day he graduates from the fire academy, in addition to actually receiving an offer to join a station as a volunteer firefighter, he swears up and down, is single-handedly the best day of his life.

Firefighter!Gaz, who's almost always the first one to rush inside a burning building, given that it’s still structurally stable and will remain that way for the duration of time that he’s inside, holds a hatchet in both hands, firmly grasped, kicking the front door inwards before making his way through the interior. He’s completely composed, not an inch of doubt taunting him as he sweeps the area, finding civilians and immediately working to usher them out of the building, barking orders in a way where it sounds less like a command, so softer and so much more filled with care. He can easily sling anyone over his shoulder, hold them in his arms, or lift them on his back if need be, rough grunts resounding from him, strained at times from both the heat and the weight of carrying another human being.

Firefighter!Gaz, who doesn't ever complain or tell the other person to move and fend for themselves, because that’s his job, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t fulfill it to the fullest. Given he doesn’t have any civilians to worry about, he’s rushing through flames, heat nipping at his PPE, trying its hardest to penetrate the fabric, failing while he comes out of the building, fire trailing after him, smoke and dirt caking his body beneath his uniform, and labored breaths wracking his body. All he can do is rip off his SCBA when he's at a safe distance from the smoke, mask off, sweat dripping down his skin, soak his hair, and kick his head back as he breathes the smell of anything but smoke.

Firefighter!Gaz, who always walks around the station in his bunker gear, is ready to go at a moment's notice. He's rarely seen in something as simple as his station wear, complaining that the uniform is unnecessary to be seen in if he’s going to change into his bunker gear anyway. In reality, the weight of the gear is comforting to him—it's heavy, yes, and can leave him sweating until he’s certain he’s drenched if he’s in it for too long—but the weight, feel, smell, and overall “vibe” of the bunker gear is something he’s spent his whole life dreaming of. Why be out of it if he’s dedicated his life to becoming the person to wear it?

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