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byexbyez · 10 months ago

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love me more | leon kennedy x f!reader

pairing: re4r!leon kennedy x f!reader

summary:

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

word count: 19k

warnings: 18+ towards the end, angst, yearning, marriage of convenience but there isn't a tangible convenience, strangers to spouses dynamic, grief/mourning, depictions of depression and low self-esteem, also trauma and anxiety, family issues, kinda touch-starved leon if you squint, domestic fluff if you try hard enough, non-linear and vague timeline, mentions of canon typical violence, alcohol and cigarette consumption, p in v smut, brief alternation of POVs, ada wong mention, suicidal thoughts, minor original character, minor character death, spoilers to the hunchback of notre dame, no use of y/n

notes: meant to post this on tumblr after i was done with it but that never happened so here, have it. took me 16 months to post it here lmao. english is not my first language. you have been warned. also beware of a whole lot of mitski and hozier references. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)

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And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved

Me and my husband We're doing better

—Me and My Husband, Mitski

It’s quiet. It has always been that way from the start. Your husband is late, which is not unusual. You sit in the somber light coming from your living room TV. You don’t like the overhead lights, which explains the abundance of lamps around the living room and bedroom in your home. Your husband found it strange that you never turned on the actual lights but it didn’t take him long to realize that you were right. Any kind of overhead light was annoying to him now. He blamed you for his headaches at work.

No matter how many times you told him that he could turn on the overhead lights he insisted that he did not like them anymore. “I like it like this,” he had said. “You’re right, it’s cozier this way.” His head was on your knee, his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. You wanted to brush his hair away from his face and maybe scratch a bit as if he was a cat. But you didn’t, you had no idea what he would react like to such an intimate gesture. You turned your gaze away from his peaceful sleeping face to the TV you had been watching on low volume before he stepped through your home’s front door.

It was a fucking joke, really. Thinking twice, three times about touching the man that you call your husband.

You hear his keys jumble from the door. He didn’t tell you what time he would be home, so you didn’t prepare anything for dinner. It’s late anyways. You consider closing your eyes and resting your head on the back of the couch but it hasn’t been long since he told you he could tell when you were not sleeping. You thought about the number of times you pretended and he could tell. Embarrassing. Now that your secret was out, you had to greet him awkwardly.

He calls your name. “Are you asleep?” His voice very faint.

“No,” you answer while untucking your legs from under your butt. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He places the keys on the keyholder. “No lights?”

You reach to your side and turn on one lamp. “I didn’t realize the sun had set.”

“It’s past eleven.” Now that the lamp was on you could see his worried eyes. His five o’clock shadow prominent. “Did you eat anything?” he asks. You can’t tell if he hopes you did or not.

The moment you see the plastic bag in his hand, you shake your head no. Honestly, you were hungry because it had been hours since you ate a bowl of cereal as dinner.

He steps over your legs instead of pushing the coffee table away to make room for himself and plops next to you on the couch. “Brought Chinese,” he says and places the food bag on your lap instead of the coffee table. “You like their fried dumplings.”

You aren’t surprised that he remembers it. He was nice like that, maybe he thinks this is the least he can do. Soon after the wedding, he realized you did not enjoy cooking. It has never been a problem, he knew his way around the kitchen and knew of really good takeout places.

“Thank you,” you say softly while leaning on the table to place the noodles and the dumplings. “Leon, did you drink?” you ask when you catch a whiff of him.

“Yeah, I’m a little tipsy.”

That explains his lax attitude. He has his arm around you across the back of the couch, he’s sitting close to you. It’s because he wants to eat, you say to yourself. And he’s a little tipsy.

“Did you have fun?” you ask when you separate your chopsticks.

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he says, watching you separate his chopsticks for him. “I had a drink by myself.”

“Only one?” you chuckle.

“One or two,” He cocks his head to your direction and grabs the chopsticks from your fingers. His fingertips are warm.

Unlike you, his body always runs hot. You remember the comment he made when he held your hand and cupped one cheek, kissing you after you two had said “I do”. His breath was hot on the lower part of your face. You somehow felt him everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s really hot, why are your hands cold?” he had whispered. It was unusually hot on the day you eloped. Leon had to dab his sweat away so often.

“I’m just nervous,” you had whispered back. The hand that he was not holding was trembling, surely, he could tell.

“No need to be.” That was what he said right before your first kiss. It was more of a short peck because he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

It was easier for him to say, he didn’t have anything to be nervous about. He looked really beautiful that day and it didn’t help your nerves one bit. You felt like you were committing a crime while signing your documents that sealed the fact that you were now married to Leon Kennedy. You wonder if he felt the same, knowing this marriage was not a real one.

You didn’t lie to anyone really, so why did it feel like you did? You never told anyone you were in love. You never told anyone this was legit. You just told your sister you were married and that Leon was a good man. She had shrieked over the phone, demanded that you quit joking. The moment she was convinced that you were not, she expected pictures of him. The only picture you had of him was from the day you eloped. He had taken your cold hand and placed it on his arm. His other hand on his stomach so he didn’t look awkward. You had raised your small bouquet of baby’s breath to your torso as well. You did not look as nervous as you thought when the photo came in the mail but Leon looked more handsome than you remembered. You emailed it to your sister.

It didn’t take long for her to respond. How the hell did you bag that man??? Do you have blackmail material against him?

We met at work, you replied shortly.

I thought you worked with dudes that are old as fuck.

We don’t work together. Met through a coworker.

Maybe I should change careers. I mean how hard can it be to train as a government agent???

You looked at the multiple question marks she sent after that. I’m telling your husband.

I showed him the picture and he agrees that he’s hot lol. He also would like to have you guys over.

So you both can ask him what he sees in me?

Hey, I’m only joking. We would really like you guys to come over. I want to meet my brother-in-law.

I’ll tell him but he’s very busy.

Sooo what does he do?

Like I said, he’s an agent. Mostly confidential work.

So you can’t tell me?

I really can’t.

You know what? It’s annoying that you can’t tell me what he does but I can understand. What I can’t understand is you getting married. Out of the blue. Without telling me.

That email left a bitter taste in your mouth. She could tell that it was not real. She knew that you were not easy to love. She knew it was impossible for you to get married. That’s why you stalled her invitation for nearly two years. You hadn’t even asked Leon because you did not know how he would react. He knew you had a sister across the country and that she was older than you but never asked about her for a while. You weren’t offended at his uninterest in your life. He didn’t have any reason to be interested in you.

He did say he was an orphan, that one time.

It all made sense after that, he didn’t like to talk about families. Maybe because he wasn’t used to belong. To belong to a family. Belong to someone. Think about them because he belongs to them and they belong to him.

All things considered, you thought Leon turned out more than okay. Closed off but very kind, gentle, understanding.

He leans forward and helps you split one dumpling into two with his chopsticks. His shoulder bumps yours and stays there because he refuses to let go of the back of the couch behind you. When you pull your sleeve over your fingers, he quickly eats one whole dumpling, leaving you with the smaller one that he helped you split and covers your hand with his.

“You cold?” He looks silly when he stuffs his face full of food.

“No.”

“Your hands are cold.” He doesn’t’ say like always but it’s there in his voice.

He doesn’t mind touching you when he’s in a good mood, mostly when he’s a little intoxicated like this. Usually, he’s not a touchy person. You’re glad he’s not, it reminds you that you definitely like him more than he likes you. He needs the little nudge of alcohol to let go of his inhibitions. He didn’t touch you until you gave him the green light on your birthday. He didn’t know what to get you as a gift so he got you yellow roses and the blandest birthday card known to man.

Happy Birthday, from Leon.

“It isn’t anything special, I know.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

But it was special, it was from him; with his emotionally constipated, probably unintended curt message. You knew deep down he had a big heart. He cared enough to stop on his way to get you these. You didn’t think much, because there were times when you didn’t need to think about this, you just reached and hugged him around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. “They smell really nice. We need to get a vase for them.”

He finally put his arms around you and you felt the stiffness of his shoulders on top of yours. It was six months into your married life.

Yellow roses. He saw you as a friend. You were okay with it, as long as it meant he was not pushing you away. You were not terrible by any means. Boring and awkward, definitely. But you made it clear to him that he could talk to you about what he wanted when he wanted. He was adamant that it went both ways. However, you genuinely don’t think anything going in your life is worth talking about. Hence, he’s the one who ends up talking most of the time.

He rubs your fingers to bring them warmth. The air of the living room feels awfully similar to that one time he surprised you and laid his head on your lap. That one time you wanted to play with his hair but didn’t. It was just like this. Quiet despite the TV’s low volume, comfortable as the light coming from the lamps was soft on the eyes, smelling of alcohol as he was a little drunk. Unsure as your hands were cold and was this what being friends meant?

Sometimes he craved the quiet. He worked and worked and worked. Voices everywhere. Danger constant. His only quiet was home, you suppose.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

“I ate cereal,” you answer him.

“Has no nutritional value whatsoever,” he mutters.

“Yeah, it’s just me being lazy.”

“I don’t think we have anything in the fridge, I don’t blame you.”

You both finish your food in silence, you pretend to watch the screen in front of you the whole time. You hug your knees to your chest when you’re done and he looks like he can fall asleep any minute.

“How was your day?” you ask to keep him awake. You don’t want him to sleep here and have his back and neck all sore tomorrow.

He rests his chin on his shoulder and gives you a funny look through his long lashes. “Same as always.”

You admit to yourself that you love him like this. He seems free, happy even.

You decide to be bold and tap your shoulder for him to lay his head on.

He doesn’t seem to be thinking twice as he takes your offer and nuzzles his head on your shoulder. He’s taller and bigger than you, you suppose the position he’s in right now is not comfortable for him. He reaches back around the couch and the other hand crosses his abdomen, gripping your ankle that he is closest to. His thumb draws circles there and your brain short circuits. “How was yours?”

“My day? Nothing exciting. All paperwork.”

He hums as he squeezes your ankle, his hair tickling your nose and lips.

“You really need a shower, Leon.” You make up the courage to smooth down his blonde hair that is sticking up in every direction.

He hums again. “Are you telling me I stink?”

“Yes, mister.”

“I’m tired,” he groans but doesn’t seem tired enough as he pushes his head and messes up your balance on the couch. You have to hold on to the arm rest as he keeps nudging you with his head.

“You’ll feel gross in the morning if you don’t have a shower.”

“You have a point,” he says but does nothing to get up. Maybe it was a bad idea to offer him your shoulder and unknowingly, your ankle. He’s never acted like a kid like this before.

You get up and turn off the TV before you offer him both of your hands. “You’re not tipsy, you’re drunk. Now get up and wash yourself please.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are. You headbutted me.”

He takes your hands and finally gets up. “I think I ran out of shampoo.”

“You can use mine. Brush your teeth while I go get it.” You pat his back.

There’s two bedrooms in the house, one is for guests but you’ve never had guests over since you’ve both moved into this apartment. Leon uses the “guest” room downstairs. He insisted that you take the bigger room. He’s more like a roommate than a spouse.

He’s shirtless in front of the sink, brushing his teeth like you told him to when you knock on his bathroom door and hand him your shampoo. He reads the fragrance and opens its cap to smell it.

“Well, you smell nice so I can’t complain,” he says, toothbrush still in his mouth, dribbling toothpaste everywhere.

You love him in moments like these. This is the moment the wife reaches and kisses the husband. Well, maybe after he’s done dribbling everywhere but you know how this moment should go about. He won’t be like this in the morning. You know very well that he is going to be sober and back to normal Leon. He won’t say anything about his drunk self because he knows you won’t as well.

“Don’t fall in the shower!” you shout as you go upstairs to your room.

“I’m not that drunk!”

The next morning, he sees you making coffee in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long since your schedule got aligned with his. He wonders how the hell you managed to adjust your sleeping hours to the point now you could wake up before him. He used to wake up before you because you often had late shifts.

“Morning,” he says as he smells the delicious coffee that you’re pouring into two mugs. He yawns, scratching an itch on his arm. He did not use to have a coffee machine back when he was living alone. You had brought it with you to this house and saved him from Starbucks’ morning rush hour.

You slide one of the mugs in front of him and give him a warm smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

He blows on the coffee before he takes a sip. “Much better now.” He clears his throat, his morning voice gruff. “I was thinking… We should commute together.”

“To work?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Where else?” he snorts. “What’s surprising? Why pay more for gas when we start work at the same time?”

“Wouldn’t that be…”

“It wouldn’t interfere with anything if you think about it. It’s stupid to take both cars to the same place.”

“I might work overtime,” you say and hug yourself.

He nods into his mug and seems like he wants to say more. “Then you can take your car. You’ve just started normal hours. Why are you eager to tire yourself out so quickly?”

So that we don’t have to be awkward around each other.

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

It is what you repeat to yourself over and over again. It was convenient to have slept with him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. You were lonely. You reckon he had to be, too. Because why else would he want to have sex with you? He did not love you or anything. You could only think of one thing when his face was buried in your neck. You still had his yellow roses. You had preserved them between your book pages.

As he was panting above you, hands grasping your hips with vigor, your thighs caging him in and burning, you felt like a rose stuck between thousands of words never read aloud. Yellow all over, sticking out like a sore thumb between words printed in the smallest font size possible, suffocating. Once belonged with other flowers but now settled down in a place where people thought you’d look pretty.

You hate the color yellow as much as you hate the word convenient. If not, more.

He sees you wince. He cannot guess the reason behind it is his choice of words. “What do you say?”

He is offering, you think. He still likes you enough to ask.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to get groceries on the way back.”

People don’t whisper much now that it’s been nearly two years since you two announced to your close work circle that you were married. There were a lot of surprised faces at first, thinking maybe Leon was joking or something. People didn’t know you very well. You were only close with Cathy.

“Perhaps we should wear rings,” said Leon once over dinner. “People don’t believe we’re married.”

“Is that a problem? What others think, I mean?”

He stared at your face while chewing, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking thanks to the dim light emanating from one of the lamps. “They think it’s a joke. Is it so bad that I want to be taken seriously for once? You wanted a wedding dress, I want a ring.”

“When do you want to get them?”

That led to you choosing matching rings with Leon. Simple gold bands. You make sure to wear them to work every day because if you don’t, you worry people will start to whisper again.

First it was, Leon’s not the type to get married, he’s taking the piss out of us, is it April fools today?

Then it turned into: Oh God, he’s serious, he says he got married last weekend.

Eloped? To whom?

He said her name but I don’t remember it, said she’s in archives now.

He’s married to an archivist? How on earth did they meet?

Probably in Donovan’s funeral, saw Hunnigan introducing them.

That wasn’t long ago!

I know, right?

You know some of them thought you had a one-night stand and got pregnant from him. The rumors subsided when that didn’t turn out to be true.

However, people were curious about why Ingrid Hunnigan would introduce an archivist to an agent. It didn’t take long for your name to become known because you had recently switched departments. You had been a systems analyst like Hunnigan, working with late Cathy Donovan. You’d switched to archives after her funeral.

People greeted you when they saw you. Leon’s wife, right?

Yes, but not really.

The first time Leon ever saw you was during agent Donovan’s funeral. He’d gotten back from Spain just a week ago. He did not know agent Donovan well but her name echoed in every corner. She was good at her job. Most of the time, nobody had an idea what she was up to.

“Leon, I want you to meet Cathy’s partner,” said Hunnigan, holding the shoulder of the woman standing next to her.

You stuck your hand out for him to shake and told him your name. It sounded disconsolate coming from your mouth, your own name. Your eyes were dazed, you kept your mouth in a thin line. You didn’t even look at him properly as if this was the hundredth occurrence today, Hunnigan introducing you to someone.

“I’ve heard a lot of great things about agent Donovan.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Right, she was great,” you said, your eyes straying elsewhere. It looked like Hunnigan’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from crumbling down. You looked so small with your shoulders hunched forward. He cringed when he saw you rip out the flesh of the side of your thumb.

Hunnigan went on about Cathy Donovan’s accomplishments to him. You continued to pick at your thumb, him watching your side profile as you kept averting your gaze from people around you. You seemed to be dissociating hard.

“These two were inseparable. I tried asking Cathy to work with me on a small mission once and she praised her so much in turn, I had to suck it up and meet this woman myself as soon as possible,” said Hunnigan heatedly. “I’m such a big fan of Cathy’s, you see, I couldn’t be upset. I love seeing her work with the best.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you managed to say, a beat too late. “I need to use the restroom, be right back.”

Leon knew too well that losing someone was difficult, yet he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. He furrowed his brows the moment his hand made contact with your upper arm. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he didn’t want to seem like he took pity on you.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

You made the effort to look him in the eye when it was obvious as day that you were having a hard time keeping your head up.

Your voice barely came out, “Thank you.”

Of course, you did not recognize him the second time he saw you. It was his late celebratory dinner for his mission in Spain. His coworkers had planned a small one, saying he deserved it. Once he was done with his food, he excused himself saying he wanted to get fresh air.

Not too far from the restaurant, you were sitting on a bench alone.

“Those things will kill you, y’know,” he said, eyes pointing to the cigarette you were smoking.

His unexpected voice caused you to jump in your seat. You quickly put the cigarette out by stomping it with your shoe. “I don’t usually… smoke.”

He dragged his feet while walking to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. “You didn’t have to put it out.” Though he thought you were very considerate by doing so.

“Congratulations, for the mission.”

“Thank you— name’s Leon, by the way.”

You stuck your chin out to the direction of the restaurant, “Or so I heard in there.”

“We actually met before. At the funeral.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember half the people I met there.”

“No need to be sorry. You seemed out of it.”

“Yeah, we worked together for a long time, Cathy and I.”

“Look, I know it’s hard and anything I say probably won’t make any difference—”

“You don’t need to—” Your voice quite literally got stuck on your throat, you composed yourself by bringing the side of your fist to your mouth and coughed into it. “I’m trying to get better. I’m here today, which is a miracle in of itself. I know people think it’s probably good to talk about her but I’m just not in the mood, okay? Thank you for your understanding but I don’t need to be reminded, it happened not so long ago.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“No, I know you mean well.” You started to sway your feet on the gravel. It was completely understandable for you to lash out but you seemed uneasy as soon as it was out of you. “Sorry, this is your happy day. I shouldn’t—”

“You realize how many times we said sorry to each other in this past minute?” he laughed. “Also, I lost a partner in Spain. I’m not that happy today.”

Your voice turning faint, seemingly regretting your flash of anger a moment ago, “You probably feel like you shouldn’t be happy.”

He nodded. “He helped me a lot but didn’t make it.” He saw your mouth open and stopped you there. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It loses its meaning when you say it too much.”

“Even if I mean it with my whole heart every time?”

“That means you’re sorry for a lot of things. It’s not healthy to carry that much weight on your shoulders.”

“Right, I’ll be like Quasimodo.” You hunched your shoulders even more forward. “Like the hunchback.”

“From the Disney movie?”

You giggled at his childishness. “Yeah, I heard there’s also a book about it.”

He looked at your squinted eyes and thought you deserved to be happy more.

As you two carried on your now meaningless conversation, he did not know that you were certain on resigning from your job and never turning back to it. You’d started to work on the archives that week, partly because your boss had foreseen you contemplating quitting all together and did not want to lose a highly valuable member such as yourself and partly because you had requested it.

At that point, you were absolutely aware of the fact that they feared you’d never turn back to your former position. And because Cathy didn’t have any plans of ever becoming alive, you also didn’t have any plans on returning. But you knew the reason behind them doing anything you asked was them giving you time to grieve. After that, the pressure would build even more and hopefully make you take your old place.

“It was Hunnigan’s idea,” you said to Leon after he asked you very kindly why you were here tonight. “Basically dragged me here. She thinks I should be around people more.”

“She’s right. I’m glad you came.”

Leon was cute, alright. That didn’t do him justice, actually. It was evident under the street light where the bench was that he worked out regularly. Biceps giving a hard time to his sleeves every time he moved, veins protruding on his forearms, his thighs looking like they’d help him carry ten people on his large back. And oh, his broader-than-the-horizon shoulders. An absolute unit of a man with cheekbones and jawline honed like a Greek statue. With his dark blonde hair falling on his face in that charming way and his oh so kind blue eyes, you knew he was out of your league.

His gentle aura making him seem like a Prince Charming or a white knight or whatever the fuck those Disney movies had.

You planned on never seeing anyone from work again, you had nothing to lose. And Cathy so would say to shoot your shot.

“I’m thinkin’ of getting a few drinks in me, want to tag along?”

“What do you have in mind?” He seemed interested, a good sign.

“You got any suggestions? And don’t say beer because I plan on getting wasted beyond recognition in like an hour.”

“Yeah, be careful. And don’t drink and drive.” The way he took a U-turn on his interest irritated you. You really thought he wouldn’t say no, you were getting along well, flirting even. “Did you come here with your car?”

“Yeah.” You tried to not sound upset. “I’m not a teenager. I’ll take a cab. Drinks will be on me.”

“Ah, thanks but I’ll have to refuse. They’ll probably wonder where I went. It’s my dinner, after all.” The polite smile he gave you was so infuriating.

You got up from the bench. He had the audacity to look you up and down after that. “Then please tell Hunnigan I’m sorry I left early, will you?”

“I will.” He fidgeted and crossed his arms. Oh God, you’d made him uncomfortable. It was just minutes ago he was sort of flirting with you. “Don’t drink too much.”

God, why did he have to be so annoying?

The next time you two met was at the closest pharmacist to work, few weeks after his dinner and your failed attempt to get him in your bed.

“One box of aspirin, please.” Your head snapped up at that voice. Unmistakably, Leon. With his broad back facing you, he hadn’t seen you yet.

“What can I get you, miss?”

Leon stepped over to the side when they called to you, still not looking at you.

“Eyedrops, please.”

“Miss, are you alright?”

To that, he did a double-take. You’d looked disheveled to the point of worry. Eyes and nose a few shades redder than the rest of your face, eyebags puffy and makeup smudged. With your now extremely frizzy baby hairs doing anything but their job of framing your face, it was apparent that you’d been crying.

“Yes, it’s just an allergy.”

“Can I get you anything for that?”

“No, thank you. I already have meds for it.”

Leon thanked when they gave him his aspirin and turned to you. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He quickly left the pharmacist.

Surprisingly, you did wait for him outside. Why? You had no idea. Frankly, you were hoping to cry more in your car.

Approximately five minutes later, he came to you jogging lightly. He thrusted a water bottle in your hand. “Where’s your medication?”

“What?”

“For your allergy?”

“Oh, um—” You couldn’t find a lie fast enough, usually you were not bad at lying but the way he appeared to be worrying about your well-being was baffling to say the least. “I don’t have it, I mean—” You pressed the water bottle to your stomach and held on to it for comfort. “I don’t have an allergy.”

It was his turn to be baffled. “Are you alright?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You don’t look like it.” He looked at you and around you as though checking to see any injury. “You should drink up.” He motioned to the bottle and watched you take a gulp.

“Thank you. Oh, you should, too,” You tried to give him the rest of the water while his stare questioned you. “For your aspirin.”

“I already took it. I’m supposed to take it with water?”

“Yes, Leon. Have you been taking them without water this whole time? Then why did you bring me water?”

“I didn’t know that! You looked dehydrated.”

“That’s not good for you. Now I’m worried about your stomach.”

His blue eyes shined like he came to a revelation. “That’s why my stomach burns when I take them?”

How are you this stupid, you suppressed saying, if you had known him well enough at that time, you definitely would. You forgot for a second that you were annoyed at him for rejecting you few weeks ago and find yourself flabbergasted at thinking that he is endearing, in a way.

You made small talk with him about his lunch break and he insisted on walking you to your car.

“Can I help you with anything?” he said sympathetically once you stood in front of your open car door. “You still look…”

Like a truck hit me, you wanted to complete his sentence.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It just happens time to time.” You tried to make yourself presentable by adjusting your blouse and hair.

“It?”

“Sometimes I cry for no reason. It happens randomly, too, I don’t know when and where I’ll be crying most of the time. Like, I’ll be reading something, it doesn’t have to be sad, I mean— I was reading reports before I came here. Sometimes it gets too much, like now.”

“Will you be okay driving?”

“Yeah! Talking with you definitely helped.” His apprehensive gaze pierced through you. You actually felt like crying again, your chest feeling tight, eyes burning. You stood upright with the support of your car door. “I’ll be fine, Leon.”

“I’m choosing to believe you. Drive safe.” He shifted his weight on one of his legs and seemed ready to take off.

“Thank you. See you around?”

“You probably won’t for a while,” he said to the ground, soothing the itch on his calf with his other leg’s shin. He looked up and squinted his eyes against the sun. “I got assigned a mission. I don’t know for how long.”

“Oh, I’ll be at your celebratory dinner then, if I get an invitation.”

“Well, I don’t know how it will go. I’ll only invite you if you won’t talk for the whole dinner but flirt with me outside again.”

“You didn’t need to embarrass me like that,” you chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t say I’m a push and pull kind of woman.”

“You can show me what kind of woman you are when I get back?”

“Very smooth, Leon.”

He seemed taken aback. “I’ll see you then.” Suddenly, he was distant again. This time you didn’t know what made him uneasy.

“Yeah… Be safe on your mission.”

He just nodded. You got in your car and gripped the steering wheel tightly until the sight of his leather jacket clad back disappeared. You hunched forward, shoved your forehead to the wheel and tried to take a deep breath. The crying spell didn’t go away as the tears burst down first and then the sobs jerked your entire body.

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

—Like Real People Do, Hozier

The inside of Leon’s car smells nice, he takes good care of it.

“I’m going to see my sister this weekend,” you say, averting your gaze from the way he steers the wheel with one hand. His other hand is on his knee, tapping away. The effect his toned arms have on you is humiliating.

“I think I can make it.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t have anything that day. I can go with you. It’s your mother’s death anniversary, right? I think it’s time I pay my respects.”

It’s these things he says that leave you puzzled. He’s incredibly thoughtful, no matter who he’s talking to. He very well could have his day off-work for himself, but he asks anyway.

“Do you actually want to meet my sister?”

“I do. I hope to make a good first impression.”

You think about it for a second and end up telling him. “I sent a picture of you to her back when we got married.”

“How’d you get a picture of me?” he asks, appalled. The only picture he has of himself besides the wedding one is on his badge.

“Our wedding picture, dummy. We have one, remember?”

“Oh, right, I forgot.” You can’t complain because you keep it in a dresser drawer in the envelope it came in. He was on duty again when it came and you’d showed it to him once he was home. The left corner of his lips had curled up and for a second, you thought you saw affection in his eyes. “It came out okay? I was sweating buckets, but you—" he’d said and pointed a finger to your face in the photo. “Your hands were ice cold, I nearly asked you to paste your hands to my forehead just so I could cool down.”

“We still have the picture, right?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s in my room. Why?”

“Can I have it?”

“Yeah, they sent two. Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”

“Give it to the mafia or hire a hitman to go after you, what else?” He lets out a hollow laugh. You want to record the sound and have it forever play in your ears. “I want to frame it and put it on my desk. People usually have pictures of their spouses and children or even their dogs on their desks, no?”

Yes, you know. You have pictures with your best friend and sister on your own desk at work.

It’s his way of saying you mean something to him.

You call your sister’s name as soon as you see it. “Why do you have this picture here?”

She’s carrying the empty plates to the sink as you hold on to her fridge’s door handle.

She looks up to see you pointing at your wedding picture. It’s on her fridge. You don’t even display it in your own house.

“You printed it?”

“I did,” she says. “It’s a good picture.” Her house is littered with pictures of her and her husband on different vacations, of you and your mother and her together in some.

“You just met Leon today.”

“And I think he’s great. You’re happy with him. That’s all I could ask for.”

You were happy since he was in a good mood the entire ride coming here. It was long but you two had a smooth ride and he amused you with his corny jokes and stories. You tore small pieces of bagel and fed him when he said he was getting hungry. He was tired from driving the whole time, but of course he didn’t have it any other way and jestingly banned you from getting behind the wheel. He did make a good first impression like he promised, although he kept bobbing his cramped leg. He’s now in the backyard with your brother-in-law, chatting about football, probably.

Your sister gets your attention by giving you a side hug and rubbing your back. “You’re my only sister, of course I’m going to have a picture of your happiest day.”

You hug her back around her waist. She even had photos of your birth in the living room. Your mom in a hospital bed, one day-old baby you cradled in her arms, your father hugging your mother and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. Did he know then, that he would never be there for you to look at you like that again?

“You remember dad, right?” you ask quietly. She was older and was able to tell stories about him to you. “How was he like? Before he left, I mean.”

“Like I told you, he loved us so much. I don’t know if it was the same case for my mom. She later told me she saw it coming, that he likely had another woman.”

“How did mom know?”

Your sister sighs and rest her head on top of yours. “She said she could just feel it. Said he felt distant. He used to come home late leading up to it, sometimes drunk. One day I woke up and he wasn’t home. Didn’t say anything, just abandoned us like that.”

There’s that sadness again, creeping up to your chest and placing a big rock there. You feel like you’re being crushed by it. Your mom had always been ambitious, had dreams for herself and her family, deserved so much more than what she got.

Leon’s laughing loudly in the backyard, your head whips to see the sight.

“Come on, go mingle with your husband. I got it from here,” says your sister and starts to place the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’ll go get us some beer,” says your brother-in-law and gets up from his chair. The weather is amazing today, your sister had set up a nice meal outside. Leon was getting along with them well. What more could you ask for?

You find yourself alone with Leon when your brother-in-law goes inside the house. You sit next to him and he promptly puts his arm on the back of your chair.

“How’s your leg?” you ask him.

“My thighs are sore,” he groans. “Good thing we’re not driving back tonight.”

“Well, I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You put a hand on his knee and start to massage, hoping it will help his aching legs. You’re even bolder than a few days ago. He doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It hurts here,” he says and grabs your hand, placing it higher on his thigh. “You can put more pressure, I can hardly feel it.” His thigh is firm and thank God, your hands manage to stay stable. You ball your hands into fists and start to punch lightly where he wants. The meat of his thighs doesn’t even jiggle, reminding you that he’s mostly made of muscle.

You focus up on his knees. “I’ll drive us to the cemetery tomorrow.”

“I can—”

“No. You’re tired, Leon. I want to drive, don’t make me upset.”

“Would you actually be upset if I—”

“Yes, very.” You pinch his thigh and that makes him press his lips together.

“They’re really nice, you know,” he means your sister and her husband. “I feel like an ass for not meeting them sooner.”

“You like them?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I do.”

“So, any propositions?”

“Huh?”

“Got asked for a threesome yet?” you smirk.

“I’m sorry?” He’s horrified and you find it funny.

“After I sent the wedding picture to them, they both said you were hot. I just remembered it.”

“I’d rather not know that!”

“Relax, Kennedy. I’m just joking. They’re not gonna ask you that.”

He visibly relaxes and puts you in a headlock in a play-fight manner with the arm that was behind you. His nose and mouth pressed up against your hair, he says, “I’ll just tell them I’m a one-lady type of man if they ever do.” You consider biting his arm.

“Can the lovebirds look up here for a second?” chirps your sister. She has come with her camera outside. “It’s the golden hour.”

Leon adjusts his head to look towards the camera and relaxes his hold on you, arm dangling from your shoulder, other hand engulfs yours on his knee, rings clashing.

“Aww,” your sister coos as she takes the photo. “I’ll send this to you.”

She doesn’t suspect a thing, probably because you’re not pretending anymore.

You splash your face with cold water after you’re done brushing your teeth in your sister’s guest room bathroom. Leon’s inside the room, splayed out on the bed, exhausted after today. It won’t be awkward, you say to yourself, hope to God your hands don’t start to tremble from anxiety.

Leon has taken off his t-shirt, bent one of his knees and put his hands behind his head. Not helping your case by looking irresistible. Even the tufts of hair under his arms are endearing to you.

“How are you holding up?” he asks once you sit on the bed next to him, back facing him. He knows you will visit Cathy too when you get back.

“I’m good, Leon.” You take off your ring and place it next to his on the bedside drawer. “Never been better, actually. I missed them.” You twist your upper body to face him. “Here,” you say as you place your newly washed cold damp hands on both sides of his face in attempts to cool him down.

He shivers, his shoulders going up slightly for a quick second. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. You’re silent, in part because you’re speechless before his beauty, but you also would like to try to give him a little piece of serenity he needs.

“This used to be my mom’s room when she was living here.”

He hums softly and opens his eyes, his hands coming up to hold on to your bare arms, the skin between his eyebrows pinched.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hands finding place on his broad shoulders.

He starts to rub your arms up and down, his hands stopping after a while to trace a strap of your tank top with his fingers. All of your worries about intimate gestures going out the window the moment you let his hands wander.

This is the tender domesticity that you’ve been longing for so badly, you want to thank him.

He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to kiss you, now I think it’ll be inappropriate.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your grip on his shoulders is now stronger, begging not to tremble. He feels lonely, he shouldn’t have come here. You have to swallow hard. “It won’t.”

His hand goes up to cup the back of your neck, he’s staring at your lips like he doesn’t wish for anything else. “C’mere.” He tugs at your hip to get the lower half of your body up on the bed. He drapes you halfway on his torso.

Once you’re situated to his liking and casting a shadow on his face, he brings you down ever so gently to his mouth, massaging your nape. He’s hot all over, his mouth, his breath on your face, his chest, the hand that’s splaying his fingers on the small of your back. With his soft lips moving lazily against yours, you’re quite literally bursting at the seams. The muffled sigh he drags across your mouth tempts you to press your entire body to his harder and sling your leg across his hips.

His kisses turn into open-mouthed ones and he tastes like minty toothpaste and sunlight on golden hour.

A small noise comes out of your throat, hands straying down to his bare chest and he has to cradle your face to stop. “We should sleep.” His Adam’s apple bobs enticingly. “I seriously don’t want to disrespect your mother’s ghost.”

A laugh escapes your lips as he hugs your head and buries it to his chest, his chin resting on top. “You’ll apologize to her tomorrow.”

It’s okay, you think when you feel the low timbre of his chuckle on his chest. We’re okay. We’re doing better.

There's no plan, there's no race to be run The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come I'll be your man if you got love to get done Sit in and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late There's no plan, there's no hand on the rein

—No Plan, Hozier

The fourth time you saw Leon Kennedy was at a bar. You thought his coworkers were going to be there to see him after his mission but it was just you two.

He had emailed you a day before, saying he asked for your email address from Hunnigan, inviting you for drinks the next day and apologizing for letting you know this late.

“Where’s everyone? Am I early?” you asked, despite noticing the table he was sitting at was for two people.

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sight of him. He looked tired. He had a bit of a stubble and his hair was tousled. “No, you’re right on time,” he said, getting up to pull your chair for you. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” you said, ridding yourself from your jacket. You actually put in the effort to look good that day. A nice outfit, a little bit more makeup, hair done.

As you sat down in front of him, a corner of his lips went up, “You look good.”

“The last time we spoke wasn’t my best moment.”

“How have you been?”

You placed your hands on the table and started to play with your fingers, anxious. “Since then? Better, I suppose. How about you? Your mission went well?”

“Depends on how you define well.”

“You’re still in one piece.”

“If only that was enough.” You didn’t get to see his disappointed expression for long when a server came up to your table and Leon quickly ordered a drink, asked what you wanted and waited with his hands together on the table.

Once the server was away, you slightly leaned towards him. “They should be grateful that they got their best agent back alright.” Although you couldn’t ask him any details about his mission, you knew he was a special agent that was good at this job.

“Hunnigan told me you’re in the archives.”

“Yeah, that happened months ago, before your dinner.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“I—uh…” Your throat felt dry under his piercing stare. “I wasn’t needed there anymore. So I transferred.”

“Really? I heard it’s quite the opposite.”

“Oh, they’re talking about me?”

“Yes, seems like they really want you to work with agents again.”

“I know that,” you said and dug your fingernails to the corner of the table, his eyes following the motion.

“What do you mean?” he said, scratching his jaw. “You said you weren’t needed.”

“I felt like I wasn’t being useful. I tried to quit. They tried really hard to keep me there. Now, they’re constantly asking me to come back after everything.”

“They do know how to squeeze the last bit out of everyone,” he nodded. “Are you happy with where you are right now?”

“As in life?” You rolled your eyes thinking about it. “What does it look like?”

“I was worried the last time I saw you.” He sounded sincere.

“I know, I looked miserable.” Probably looked like the physical embodiment of a cry for help, too. “Can we not dwell on it, please? I’m better now. But now you—” You reach and tap on the middle of the table. “You look like you need to sleep for days.”

“That would be great,” he sighed.

You kept looking at the door but no one from work was coming in. “Why is no one coming, Leon?”

“They won’t, to be honest with you. I only invited you.”

Your back was then one with the chair. “Oh.”

“I should’ve let you know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind the quiet,” you smiled. And then you realized, he was doing the same thing you were doing, pushing anyone and anything away.

Him reaching out to you, this was his cry for help. Why you specifically, you didn’t know.

“You told me you lost a partner in Spain, were you close?”

To that, he dropped his chin and stared at his lap. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know him. We met under strange circumstances and ended up helping each other. I got the impression that he regretted a lot of things but wanted to believe people could change.”

“I believe people can change, for the better or worse,” you mumbled.

Your server came with your drinks. Leon didn’t waste a second and downed nearly half of his drink. “You tried to quit?” he asked.

“I did. I thought it was time for a little stability in my life. This is as far as I can get to it,” you said and took a sip of your drink which was the same one as Leon. It was strong.

“Stability. That’s unlikely in this job,” he scoffed, fingers tapping at his glass.

“Do you see it as impossible, Leon?” You desperately hoped he would say no, you needed to hear from someone that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.

He seemed to be thinking for a slow moment. “I guess, for some people, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“For you it would?” you inquired.

“I once thought I would marry my first girlfriend. I was like what? Twenty, twenty-one? I was really stupid and in love. If twenty-one-year-old Leon saw this, he would be devastated,” he said and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find someone who would understand what I do. It’s not like I can tell them. They’d be in danger because of me. I can’t ask them to trust me blindly. I wouldn’t want them to.”

“If someone was willing to accept you as you are, do you think..?”

“Who in their right mind would?” he groaned in exasperation.

“I would. But my situation is different, I have an understanding of what you do. I also can’t be in any more danger than I already am.” There was a beat of silence after you said that. The drink was definitely too much for you, you were sure. Your ears were burning hot, one hand coming up to cool one down with your nervous cold fingers, your eyes roamed the whole place. You chugged the remaining of your drink and wiped your mouth.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he bolted and looked at your abashed face as if he was in a contemporary art museum, trying to understand what the artist meant with their absurd piece.

Feeling self-conscious, you fixed your hair and babbled out, “Why did you get into this line of work in the first place?”

His back straightened, shoulders rolling back. “I was… recruited.” You didn’t quite understand how but remained from prodding any further. “I was the best candidate for what they wanted. An orphan who didn’t have anything to lose.”

It really wasn’t going well for you. You wanted to bang your head against the table and avoid looking at him completely but after what he had revealed to you, you couldn’t be any ruder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

If Cathy were to hear about this, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Good job honey, that’s one way to woo a man. She would’ve said it in that sarcastic tone which she infamously was a master of.

“No, it’s fine,” said Leon. “You could do so much better than me, though.”

Have you seen yourself, you wanted to exclaim.

Your nostrils were wide, trying to sober you up by hogging as much oxygen as possible, you tried to remain calm, you were feral however. “Why do you keep putting yourself down, Leon? You know, you could’ve called your friends today and they would’ve come running to you. You’re a great person, they don’t give a damn about how successful your mission was. They’re happy that you’re back, that’s all. They are your friends, not the alcohol.”

He was dead silent, staring at his glass with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m sorry for overstepping but I saw how they were trying to look out for you at the dinner. There wasn’t even a glass of wine there, celebration my ass. Everybody can tell you’re not fine. I don’t know you that well but even I can tell. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy. It’s self-destructive.”

He wiped his forehead. “You’re the one to talk.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hunnigan’s always talking about how you’re running away every time you see her. She has to drag you everywhere. She’s being nice to you, you could try appreciating that, you know? And you’re clearly stuck up on something, are you trying to repent for your sins or what?” He quite literally disarmed you with his icy stare.

“I’m not Catholic,” you retorted.

“Well, would you look at that. We’re more similar than I thought.” The smirk he had on was sardonic, the furthest from being friendly. You felt an urge to get up and never look back.

“Wrong,” you said as you crossed your arms. “I don’t expect alcohol to solve my problems.”

“Yeah, you’d rather run away from them. And that isn’t going well for you, is it?” He finished his drink and motioned for the server for another. “Also, stop being a hypocrite.”

“Excuse you?” you said with seething anger.

“Are you not trying to ‘get wasted beyond recognition’ right now, as you put it?” he sneered and pointed out your empty glass.

“That was one time, I usually don’t drink. And I’m not planning on drinking more.”

“Oh, did I ruin your fun?”

“Stop that,” you said through your gritted teeth. “Stop being mean. I’m not your friend. You don’t have to push me away. I don’t know why you invited me here. I can just get up and go, leave you with whatever you have up your ass that’s making you act like this. I’m only asking you to stop putting yourself down so much and you’re being all defensive. You know what, I don’t deserve this.” You got up from your chair, grabbing your jacket and purse.

He stood up quickly and tried to follow you. “Sit down, Leon. Your drink is coming.” You didn’t give him any chance to reply and threw the amount of cash that covered your single glass of alcohol on the table.

The walk from the noiseless bar to the nearest bus stop was not pleasant, to say the least. The air was biting cold, hitting your warm cheeks and making you shiver.

Leon only lost sight of you because he stopped to tip the server generously. He fucked up big time, he knew that. It was going to be a pain in the ass if you already jumped in a cab but he had hope that no vacant cab was passing the area on a Friday night.

He was stupid to think this would go smoothly. The last time he saw you, he was concerned about you. The way you’d casually admitted you were not fine was echoing in his mind. He wanted to see if you’d be there by the time he was back from duty. He admitted he was scared for you, for that woman who seemed so small during the funeral, for that woman who had a meltdown in her car in the middle of the day, barely hanging on.

He wanted to tell you today that maybe you should quit. But you had already crossed that bridge.

Maybe you wanted to help people, too. At least at the beginning. Now you wanted peace and quiet, because your life has been anything but. Unlike you, he gave up on that a while ago. He wanted to regard your daring words— I would— as being drunk, he really did.

Ada would never admit she’d want something like that to him, to anyone. Ada didn’t want a stable life, she would never live at a place longer than a month, work with someone more than twice. Even after all of their encounters, Leon still didn’t know what her actual motives were. Raccoon City, Spain, his last mission.

It was pitiful, the way his breath would hitch every time he saw a dark-haired woman wearing red out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pound in his ears for a quick second before he’d realize he was mistaken. He would allow himself, for a brief moment, that maybe it was Ada, here to see him. However, she was never the one to be sentimental. Her every action had a tangible intention that Leon could never guess.

But Leon knew she cared. Enough to save him every goddamn time he needed saving. Enough to ask him to come with her. If he was twenty-one, he would’ve chosen to tail behind her, ready to follow her wherever. Except he had changed, he was not naive anymore. He’d like to think he made the right choice by separating their ways back in Spain. He didn’t know if he was going to be used again.

He also didn’t know what would become of them. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to abandon the mission and ride off into the sunset with Ada yet a part of him wondered about their alternate universe in which he chose to follow her. What would have happened if he just hopped onto that helicopter with her? Where would she have taken him? Was she planning on greeting him properly after all those years? Was he ready to forgive her after Raccoon City?

Perhaps she would have dropped him off somewhere, with a phone number or an address, leaving him confused yet again. Maybe he would’ve reached out, met her in a different circumstance where they didn’t have to constantly run away from trouble. Maybe she’d be living in a small flat and then she’d ask him to come over. Maybe he’d continue to visit her, make himself familiar with her small space.

Except that was not feasible at all, since she was a fleeting kind of woman, just like all the moments they shared. Not there to stay. And none of these would happen, it would always be a different hotel room, different city, barring him from being constant in her life.

A puppy love, he used to think. Young, naive, credulous love. No, he realized, it got older and bigger, sicker. It was time to put it down, put it out of its misery.

He sprinted to the bus station, his hunch was right, you were sitting there, arms folded on your chest, alone. You looked up the moment you heard his footsteps. He left a few steps between you two and braced himself by putting his palms on his knees.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, his eyes were focused on your red nose. Probably from the cold, he convinced himself.

“What do you mean? You asked me to,” you grimaced.

“You said we’re not friends, so why did you come here?”

Your head turned opposite of Leon, resting your chin on your shoulder and hugging yourself tighter. “I wanted some company,” you grumbled, the collar of your jacket muffling your voice. “I think Hunnigan’s right and I might need it.”

“Sorry I’m not a decent one.” He took slow steps to sit next to you on the narrow bench of the bus stop, his shoulder grazing yours. That made you perk up at him.

“I’m sorry for the things I said earlier,” you said, holding his gaze.

“You said a lot of things.”

“Well, I’m sorry for all of them, I crossed a line.”

“Don’t be, I needed the scolding.”

“I didn’t mean to scold you.”

He knocked his knee to yours. “Do you always regret the things you say immediately after? I was an asshole, you got angry, rightfully so.”

“But I was the one who started it,” you pursed your lips.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not kids.”

“I, uh, called a taxi, should be here in a few minutes,” you said after a minute of silence.

“Okay, tell me something in the meantime.”

“What do you want to hear?”

His thumb caressed his brow, he was contemplating. “Would you consider marrying me?”

“What?”

“Would you marry me? If I asked?”

“No, I heard you the first time.” Your eyes took in every inch of his face, searching for a sign, anything that might explain this. “Leon, are you drunk?”

“No, I’m nowhere near drunk. It takes more than one drink for me to get buzzed.” He crossed his arms, imitating you. “Think about it, we can both try to live calm and stable.”

Your face was contorted in confusion, still for a slight pause. “People don’t marry out of spite, Leon. They marry out of love.”

“Who said anything about spite?”

“You’re clearly angry at something or someone.”

“I am not.”

“This life you are living right now… isn’t quite what you planned, is it? Some things didn’t go according to plan and now you’re here, trying to steer the reins again. And you’re angry.”

“What are you, my therapist?” This time his comeback didn’t sound as if it was meant to hurt you, but to make the air between you lighter. “I guess I do resent some things, doctor.”

You went along with his enactment. “Admitting is a huge step Leon, I appreciate the honesty.”

“Now you be honest,” he said, bouncing his leg in impatience. “Are you in a relationship? Am I being creepy by cornering you like this?”

“I’m not and I don’t feel cornered. If I did, I’d just get up and go. You just saw.”

He nodded, his lips in a thin line. “Experienced firsthand how you run away from your problems and I don’t mean it figuratively.”

You chuckled. “You are not a problem in my life.”

“Not a friend either.”

Your smile dropped. “I don’t think we know each other that well.”

He hummed, looking far away. “That’s probably your cab.” He got up, shaking off dust from his jeans. “Take my number before you get in and let me know when you make it home safe.”

You gave him your number but didn’t get to write your name in his contacts as the cab drew near. “Thanks for keeping me company, you didn’t need to run after me,” you said as you handed him his phone.

“We won’t dwell on it,” he winked as he opened the back door of the cab for you. “And think it over, okay?”

“What?”

“My proposal. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient.”

“Tell me one good thing that will be convenient.”

“Uh, okay. Here’s two for you,” he said and held up two fingers. “A better healthcare plan and tax benefits.”

You laughed and the driver seemed annoyed that you were still standing in front of the open door. “I should get going.”

“Text me when you get home,” he said when you finally got in the car.

You texted him again two weeks after his ridiculous proposal.

Hi, Leon. Do you remember what you asked me after the bar two weeks ago?

Hi. Yes I remember.

Were you being serious or should I pass it as tipsy nonsense?

There was no response from him for a few minutes and you had started biting your nails nervously.

I was being serious. I wasn’t tipsy.

You stared at his short text longer than it took him to reply. You had already made up your mind but it felt cheap telling him over a text. This was not the proper way of doing this. You also didn’t know how to convey this to him, so you resorted to a playful text.

Ask me properly and I’ll consider it.

I’ll ask you again properly over dinner next Friday? I know a good Italian place.

The next Friday, he kept his promise and said those four words in a fancy quiet Italian restaurant. You said yes.

“I have a request,” you said, swirling your wine before taking a sip. “I want a wedding dress, not like a gown or anything. Just a simple white dress.”

“Sure, I already have a suit that I can wear.”

Your heart tugged in your chest. The fact that you had to buy your wedding dress by yourself, no matter how simple you envisioned it to be, without Cathy by your side was making your ears ring, drowning out all the knife and fork clatter around you.

Here's my hand There's the itch But I'm not supposed to scratch

—Love Me More, Mitski

It’s four a.m. and you want to say you’ve actually seen it coming. Every time something good happens, its catastrophe follows eventually. Just like how Cathy’s mission was going so well until it wasn’t.

It’s four a.m. and the meal you’ve prepared for Leon has gone cold on the dining table. You thought he’d be hungry when he came back from mission, so you went out and bought ingredients, followed a recipe word for word, even made soup additionally just in case he didn’t feel like eating solid food after what his body’s been through. He said he’d be back at one a.m. and he hasn’t contacted you since. You’ve called and texted him numerous times but it was radio silence from him.

He had promised you, before you got married, that he would always let you know when he got back from a mission and he always did. He never once forgot because you were very serious about this, wanted to know as soon as possible that he was back safe.

It’s four a.m. and you feel like you’re going crazy, soaring into a heaving fit as each minute passes by.

The sound of his keys makes you clutch at your chest and before you even realize, your legs are walking you to the front door. He’s being quiet and you wait for him few steps behind the door. His steps are feather light, head bowed down to take off his shoes, he exhales a long breath as he places his backpack down.

He flinches when he sees your silhouette in the dark. “God, you scared me. I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“You didn’t text me,” your voice breaks, your hands are clutching at the sides of your pajama shirt like it’s a lifeline.

“I forgot.”

Your tears threaten to fall down and you’re grateful that it’s dark and he can’t see. You bite down your lip strong enough to make it bleed. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you didn’t need to stay up.”

It’s not like you chose to, you physically couldn’t lie down or eat anything when your mind went all haywire, creating the worst possible scenarios it could think of.

“I, um, made dinner.” You point to the table. “But it’s gone cold, I can heat it up. Don’t know if it will taste any good, though. Did you have any chance to eat something? I mean, if you ate dinner, it’s been hours and you’re probably hungry—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I also made soup, so it’s easier on the stomach. You’re tired, right? Just eat some soup and then go to sleep. I’ll heat that up and there’s also tea in the pantry, supposed to help you sleep. Oh, I filled up the bathtub, I’ll go drain it, the water’s gone cold and you probably want to have a hot shower—”

He cuts you off again by blurting out your name. “Hey, hey, slow down.” His calloused hands come up to hold your shoulders and you let out a small whimper of surprise, your chin dropping to your chest. “I don’t want anything, I’ll just sleep.”

You shrug and escape from his hold, so he doesn’t ask you why you’re trembling like a leaf. “But shower…” you manage to make out and point to the direction of his room.

“Yes, I’ll drain the tub and shower, you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” you say softly. He’s home, you repeat deliriously. He’s here, very much alive. The thought calms your nerves instantly.

He doesn’t turn on any of the lights while navigating his home in the dark. You crane your neck to watch his silhouette move to his room. He opts to turn on the bathroom light first. You listen to the water droplets as you put away the food you made for him in containers. He says something you can’t quite hear when he gets out of the shower.

“Did you say something, Leon?” you raise your voice slightly.

“Yeah, did you clean my room?”

“It was messy. Thought it’d be nice to see it tidy when you came back.”

He doesn’t reply right away and your head turns to his direction as if he can see you through the door.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to.”

You actually cleaned the whole house when he was away, not that he had the chance to see it.

You were aware from the very beginning that this was what you got yourself into. You and Leon never promised each other love. But why are you feeling like this now? Stupid question, really. Because things have changed, you’ve grown to love him and you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day you’ll have to face the world without him by your side because he has become your anchor, holding you in place where you now call home. It’s nice having his warm hands on you, it’s nice coming home to him.

However, in moments like now it feels like you’re playing house, actors going their separate ways after the lights go out. It awfully feels like you’re standing in the middle of a dark stage, curtains closed so nobody can see what goes down behind the scenes.

You’re in front of his door, first aid kit in one hand, knocking. “Leon?” You know he’s not sleeping. He can’t sleep well after he comes back from his missions, his insomnia making it impossible for him.

The door cracks open and you slide past him before he can say anything, perching cross-legged on the side of his bed, placing the kit on your lap before propping his pillow against the bedpost so he can sit comfortably in front of you. “Let me have a look.” You pat on the bed. “And turn on the lamp, please.”

You can finally see him when he does. The first thing you see is the big purple bruise on his side because he’s only wearing his sweatpants. His hair is wet from the shower, hanging to his eyes, eyebags dark and prominent, one of his forearms is freshly bandaged. Despite all, he’s standing tall in front of you.

“They already patched me up,” he says, showing his bandage.

You take his hand and draw him near, making him sit on the bed with one leg dangling from the side. Half of his face is illuminated like this and you can see the cut on his jaw in its full glory. Your fingers begin to work quickly, cleaning the wound all the while he winces by closing his eyes. “Seems like they didn’t take a good look at you. What happened to your ribs?” you ask to distract him.

“Got kicked. They’re not broken.”

You put the band-aid on his jaw and search his eyes as they open. He blinks slowly at you, understanding that you want to hear more. “Hurts when I breathe but it should be gone in a few days, it’s not that bad.”

You take his unwrapped hand in yours, the skin of his knuckles is very red, it probably hurts when he flexes it. You grab the ice pack you remembered to bring with you and place it on top on his knuckles.

“Not there,” he mumbles. “Put in on my shoulder, it’s really sore.”

You place the pack on the shoulder he points. He tries to turn his head that way but his face contorts in pain and he gives up, exhaling a long sigh.

“Did you have them wrap it up?”

“No, can’t be bothered to rewrap it later.”

“That’s why you have me to do it for you,” you hum, adjusting the ice pack. You’re closer to him like this, able to smell his soap and shampoo from his body. You can make out the shape of his chapped lips and yours ache to kiss his pain away, except you are overheated with grievance.

His eyes bore into you, taking you in. There’s an unassuming hand on your bent knee, squeezing lightly. “Did I scare you?” he asks.

“You promised me,” you gripe to him, fumbling with your fingers on your lap after you place the first aid kit next to you. “You promised me that you’d let me know when you were back. Of course I was scared.”

His forehead falls onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair pressed to the side of your neck as the ice pack tumbles down his back onto the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says breathily.

He’s only called you by your name all this time, so this is new. And stomach lurching. Your cheek knocks the side of his head with your startled reaction.

“I have no excuse,” he murmurs. His palm on your knee slides up, leaving a burning sensation as it goes along your thigh, bypassing your hips and finding place on the curve of your waist.

“It’s okay,” you squeak when you feel his thumb caressing your ribs through your t-shirt.

You don’t remember ever sitting down with him, drawing lines about the nature of your relationship, lines that both of you never meant to cross, because you didn’t. You didn’t discuss anything about boundaries because at the time you were getting married, you didn’t know him much. Both of you assumed that it would naturally develop, silent agreements to come.

It was manageable before, now it confuses you to the point of ripping hair from your own head. There were times where you didn’t think twice about giving him a friendly hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring squeeze to his knee but after getting into bed with him, every action was testing the waters.

It wasn’t even a bed; it was the couch in the living room where you had countless dinners and conversations, the heart of the home, if you will. It felt shameful afterwards as if it happened in an open space, because it was quick and devoid of any intimacy, but it was in the confines of your own quiet home still.

You want to go back to the time when you were friends, and not what this was supposed to be. You want to go back to the time when you didn’t know how it felt to have him like that, when you didn’t know his touch would be so tantalizing, his lips unbearably addicting, his warmth conquering.

Initially, you thought you’d cross any bridge regarding him when you came across it, but there weren’t any bridges around to reach him to begin with. You quickly realized that he had burned them before you, for everyone. So, you painstakingly built each and every one of them with your bare hands, desperate to get to him. And him shaking them felt immensely unfair, all your hard work threatened to fall.

Your hand on his chest pushes him away ever so slightly before his hand drops from your waist. He hisses softly yet the action hurts you more than it hurts him. He yields to your touch, back leaning on his propped-up pillow, waiting for you to gather the scatter of your thoughts patiently.

“Stop confusing me, Leon.”

“What do you mean?”

“What am I to you exactly?”

“You’re my wife,” he says. Obviously.

“So why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“We never guaranteed that it would.”

“Yeah, I know that. All this time I thought maybe we were doing better, now I don’t know Leon, you’re confusing me. Either stop giving me hope or just say it outright.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That I’m just a fuck buddy to you.”

His jaw ticks, lips curl in disdain. “How shallow do you think I am?”

“I know we never established any boundaries between each other but it’s gotten to a point where I don’t know how I should act around you.”

His face stays stagnant. “You can’t be serious. Your boundaries were set from the beginning. You never had a place for me in your heart.”

Time seems to stop for you in that dire moment, Leon’s blue eyes serving you a new wrench of dismay. “When did I give off that impression?”

“Our first anniversary,” he clarifies hoarsely. “We ate pizza on the couch, remember?”

You do, you even remember the Disney movie he had rented as a cheeky nod to time you two first flirted. The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

“I always wonder why you said yes to my proposal in the first place,” he said after taking a bite from his pizza slice. It had been a year since getting married, Hunnigan was the one to point out to him. Apparently, she was proud of herself due to the fact that she was the one to introduce you two.

“I thought of Cathy and what she would’ve said to me,” you said, watching the animated Quasimodo sing his heart out to the town below him.

“What would she have said?”

“That it is ridiculous and maybe I should say yes.”

“So, you thought of what Cathy would’ve said to you getting married but not your family?”

You turned your head to him, ready to get vulnerable. “Cathy was family to me.”

“I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“Yeah, we met when we were roommates back in college. She urged me to change majors and follow her path.”

“To become an agent?”

“No, she was the one who always wanted to be a special agent. I didn’t know what to do at first but somehow ended up working alongside her.”

“What were you studying before?”

“I was studying to become a nurse. Kind of in my sister’s path, she’s a doctor.”

He scratched his nape, looking ashamed. “I believe I never asked that before, sorry about that.”

You elbowed his side after taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, you better be sorry for not knowing what your sister-in-law does for work.”

He rolled his eyes upon your teasing. “Were they supportive of you changing majors? Your family, I mean.”

“My family’s always been small. It’s just me and my mom and sister. Dad’s never been in the picture. He left when I was a few months old. My mom raised us herself. And yes, she would support anything I did. She loved Cathy because she would make me do things I’d never do myself.”

“Your mom sounds like a great person.”

“She was. She died four days before Cathy did.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said, much more ashamed than before. You didn’t blame him, the first year of your marriage flew by really fast, with him on duty most of it. Forget sitting down like this to talk, you rarely got any chance to see him.

“Yeah, their deaths being so close fucked me up really bad. We were on mission. My mom was living with my sister then because she was sick. My sister didn’t tell me her condition was even worse than before.”

“Why?”

“Mom knew we were working on something big and begged my sister not to tell me. She thought she’d see me after I was done with the mission. I had a whole fight with my sister about it. I felt betrayed.”

“I think I would, too, in that situation.”

“I was so fucking unprofessional after that. I couldn’t keep on helping Cathy properly. And she—”

“It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, meeting your gaze in the space between you two on the couch.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” you huffed.

“None of that is on you. It’s the truth.”

“It’s not. I knew the situation was going bad. Cathy tried to make me believe it was not. Somebody else had to be transferred to take my place instead. I insisted but I had to be taken out. That’s when we lost connection to her.”

“How did you know it was going bad?”

“I could tell from her voice. I know her better than I know myself. I failed to get her help. I should have never listened to her.”

“But you couldn’t do that, could you? She clearly gave you wrong intel. You can’t send back-up until—”

“I could’ve made it seem like she requested back-up. That would’ve saved her, exterminated the mission, but saved her. I’d have faced the consequences of my actions sooner or later. If I did that and saved her, she’d be mad at me for years but who cares as long as she’s safe and sound?”

“I get it. I’d also have someone mad at me if it meant they’d be safe.”

“In the end, she died for nothing. The cult she was infiltrating dispersed after they killed her, all fled to different countries. It’s harder to track them down now. They’re everywhere.”

“You follow through with it? It would be impossible to track down each mission.”

“Why do you think I’m in the archives? I have access to mission reports. They don’t think it is bioweapon related, so sometimes they let me see them.”

Esmeralda was dancing along people’s whistles, captivating every man in the square.

“You said Cathy died for nothing but you actually don’t want that to be true.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you said, “Obviously.”

“You’re loyal,” he remarked. “I’m sure she would’ve loved to see her mission completed. Do you ever think of working as an analyst again?”

“Nope.”

From his expression you could tell he wanted an explanation, so you gave him one, “I don’t want to see people get hurt anymore. It’s a dangerous job, you know it. Why are you asking me?”

“No offense, but then why did you agree to marry me knowing I do the same job? If you’re scared of losing someone this much—it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You sighed, having a hard time thinking where to even start. “You’re going to call me crazy.”

“I would never,” he said, half-jokingly.

“Okay, I really did think what Cathy would tell me to do. I always listened to her, the whole time we got to spend together. She told me what she wanted to do with her life, told me I looked depressed with what I was studying and maybe we should join an academy together. She was larger than life, lit up an entire room with her presence, never spoke ill of someone, liked to help people in any way she could. I’ve always been shy, so she went above and beyond to find me decent blind dates.”

“She sounds wonderful. She was also your matchmaker?”

“In a way, yes. Dragged me to parties with her so I could have some fun.” You gave Leon a smile, recalling Cathy and her antics in your mind, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Nothing sounds crazy so far,” he reassured you.

Finished with your pizza, you dusted off the crumbs into the box and lifted up your knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I couldn’t keep someone interested in me for more than two dates.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, his eyes traveling up and down.

“No, seriously. This one time, a guy left mid-date, told me he had a phone call, paid for the coffees and just left. I waited there for half an hour. It dawned on me when I couldn’t see his car outside. Didn’t call me after.”

Leon shrugged one shoulder. “His loss.”

You smacked his bicep playfully as a way of thanking him for his compliment. “I only went on these dates because Cathy thought it would be good for me. I had a few fights with my sister about Cathy and her influence on me. She thought I was like her puppet but I genuinely don’t think like that. I told you I knew Cathy like the back of my hand. It was the same for her. Never pushed me to do something I’d be uncomfortable with. Well, I’d feel awkward at times but it would be momentary, I’d learn so much in the long run.”

“That’s a very healthy way of looking at things. I’m still waiting for the part where you think I’d call you crazy.”

“I trusted her judgment because I knew she only wanted the best for me. She’d definitely try to set me up with you if we weren’t so busy all the time,” you said, lips curling into a roguish smile.

His eyebrows shot up, being brazen about it. “Oh, you’re saying I’d have her approval?”

Especially when you keep raking your hands through your hair like that, you wished to say. “Yes, you would.”

“Thank you, that means so much.”

“You didn’t even know her.”

“Well, she means so much to you, I feel honored that you think that way.”

A haze of grief washing over your heart, lungs expanding, you started, “I also… never mind.”

A comforting hand fell on you shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Now you have to say it, don’t leave me hangin'.”

“Here’s the crazy part,” you swallowed dryly. “Whenever I thought of my future, it was always with Cathy. I didn’t even think of getting married. I thought we’d retire together when the time came, she and Allison—her girlfriend—would live next to me. And if they ever had the chance, they’d marry and maybe have kids. I’d look after them like they were my own, be the best aunt. Isn’t it crazy, dreaming of looking after someone else’s kids and not yours? Sometimes I’d lay my head down and imagine myself in a little community, living next door to Cathy and her family, growing my own vegetable garden—though I don’t know the first thing about gardening but I’d learn! I would also grow pretty flowers and give them out to anyone who decided to come over. Go to the bakery in the morning, greet everyone on the way and grab my breakfast fresh out the oven. I’d get so fat! Eating baked goods every day, sounds like heaven to me.”

“Indeed.” With a fond smile on his face, he took of his hand from your shoulder and fully turned to you, bending one leg up on the cushions. “I don’t think I met an Allison at the funeral, was she there?”

“She was,” you said, remembering the painful conversation you had with her. “She arrived really early and left before anyone from work came.”

“What happened?” he asked, noticing you ripping skin off your fingers just like you had been doing during that day.

“I tried to talk to her. She told me I was a liar and walked out—” Leon interrupted your chain of thoughts by taking your hand, preventing you from damaging your fingers further. “I couldn’t keep my promise to her. It’s awful. I told her before the mission that it was going to be okay, we’d done this with Cathy many times and I’d make sure to keep her in one piece.”

Your other hand had a death grip on your knee, nails digging and leaving indents to keep yourself grounded. “They tortured Cathy while she was captive. She died because she refused to give them any information.”

Leon seemed like he didn’t want you to continue, placed your hand in his as though he was reading your palm and started to fidget with your gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Tell me more about that dream of yours. I bet you wouldn’t even install normal ceiling lights in your house. It’d just be little lamps everywhere.”

Giggling, you said, “Yeah! I’d be that auntie that collects little trinkets and displays them all around her house. I’d learn how to knit and make so many ugly sweaters for God knows anyone.”

“So, no partner living with you? Just you with your trinkets?”

“There’s so many types of love and I just didn’t see myself in a romantic one. It just happened that I never pictured myself alone. That’s it.”

His hands slipped away after your raw confession, broad back straightening, appearing tensed up. Yet again, you couldn’t make out what his expression meant.

Esmeralda was now singing a hymn, Quasimodo staring at her in admiration from the shadows.

“I talked so much today, now’s your turn. I feel embarrassed that you know my abysmal attempts at finding love. How about you, Leon? You got any embarrassing stories that you can tell?”

His answer was quick and mischievous, “Yeah, this one time this lady just got up and left me at the bar. In the middle of an argument.”

You pursed your lips and bumped on his knee on the cushions, restraining a laugh you know he’d get satisfaction out of. “Don’t piss me off, that wasn’t even a date.”

“I had a girlfriend when I was twenty-one, she broke up with me before I started working as a cop.”

“That’s so long ago and not that embarrassing if I’m being honest,” you sniffed at him.

“I already told you about how I thought I’d marry her. I really believed my first ever relationship would live to see its future.”

Offering him a new perspective, you explained, “Well, technically it did, it just wasn’t a bright one.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, turning to the TV, stretching before bending his arms behind his head. “Wait—you’re telling me I’m the only long-term guy you had?”

His late light-bulb moment pulled a chuckle out of you. “Turning it back to me again, okay. No, I did date a guy for nearly one year. And before you ask, he said I worked too much and wasn’t fun.”

Leon’s face scrunching as if he just ate something sour, he blurted out, “Where do you find these types of guys? Did Cathy set you up with this asshole?”

“No, actually, I found him myself.”

“Is he the one who made you think you’re not fun to be around?”

You were left stumped, unable to think of any answer.

“What? If he is, I disagree with him.”

“You only say that because I go along with your corny jokes.”

“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he chimed sarcastically.

Quasimodo was saving Esmeralda from the burning stake, the sign that the movie was about to end.

“Your dream,” he cleared his throat. “I could just picture it like a happy ending to a Disney movie. You know, they all have happy endings. Besides, I don’t think you’re insane for wanting a happy, peaceful life.”

“What’s insane about it is that I even imagined myself dying before Cathy. Getting buried before I got to bury her. I’ve never thought I’d live the day she wouldn’t, yet here I am… I wrote an entire script for the rest of my life in my mind, that’s why I spiraled down and down and down when it was not possible to play it out anymore. So, I stopped. It wasn’t healthy for me to continue obsessing over my ruined happy ending. I decided to live in the present. Write as I live on. Be more like Cathy, hopefully.”

There was little beer left in his can but he raised it anyway. “In the loving memory of Cathy Donovan, then.”

“I don’t have any drink left,” you gasped, lifting your can. “Cathy, I’m so sorry, you deserve the fruitiest of Martinis.” If Cathy was there, she would’ve laughed like a hyena, found it hysterical that you managed to call her fruity given the context.

After the honorary toast, Leon leaned back and intertwined his hands on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen where Phoebus and Esmeralda were passionately kissing.

“The novel’s ending was not family friendly, I guess,” you mocked.

“I haven’t read it.”

“If you’re planning on reading it, my lips are sealed.”

“Don’t know if I have the time. I don’t mind, tell me.”

“It’s painfully sad. Esmeralda gets hanged, Quasimodo pushes Frollo from the cathedral tower in grief and rage. That’s the moment he realizes he’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He also refuses to let go of Esmeralda, starves himself holding on to her dead body in her grave. Years later, an excavation group finds their intertwined skeletons and when they try to separate them, Quasimodo’s bones crumble to dust.”

“Now that’s vile.”

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside I'm not wearing my usual lipstick I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

Baby, though I've closed my eyes I know who you pretend I am I know who you pretend I am

—Washing Machine Heart, Mitski

“How would I know I’d end up here?” you ask him, voice shaking. “We didn’t promise each other anything, so I didn’t have any hope.”

You want nothing more than to ask him about the teddy bear keychain he has in desk drawer, why he holds onto it, ask whether you should be relieved that it no longer has a key attached to it.

There is that gut feeling, clawing at your churning stomach, that tells you he has someone. Someone else who knows him better than you, who is a better match to him, who makes him happier.

Someone he loves.

“But we had sex, it made me question everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that we were both lonely and weren’t thinking straight. You acted like it didn’t change anything, it almost made me go crazy. Please say something so I can finally understand, Leon,” you cry out.

“I don’t regret it,” he declares. “I don’t regret what we did. And I know how we started this marriage, I assumed it would always be the same after you told me your feelings.”

“I admit I’m hard to be with.” Your head hangs to the side, brows furrowed. “It’s hard for me to trust someone as much as I trusted Cathy. I’m sorry it took two years for us to be candid with each other. I used to be laidback about who I slept around with before. Now, I don’t know, I think twice about how I should touch you, talk to you. I used to think romantic love was not for me, so I wasn’t worried when you proposed because you didn’t expect it. I thought it wasn’t for people like us.”

“But you are capable of love,” he emphasized. “I know you are. You’re so good to me all the time. You stay up all night worrying when I’m not home, cook food for me despite your hatred for it, remember the smallest things and help me out, talk to me when I can’t sleep. I can’t even repay you for any of it and you still continue to be good to me. See, you’re speaking in a way that’s making me think there’s a chance that you love me and I still can’t say it back.”

Your silent tears unsettle him, this is the first time you let him see you cry. He has heard it before, the soft sobs and small chokes at night when you didn’t know he was awake.

You sniffle, “I know you’re capable of it, too, Leon. If the reason you can’t say it back to me is what I think it is, you definitely are.”

You quickly wipe your tears with the back of your hand when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“There is someone, right? You love them.”

His silence speaks volumes and it becomes your acceptance.

“Don’t let this thing between us hamper it, okay? I’m fine with it. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to keep up the faithful husband act.”

“Jesus,” he howls. “Just how terrible do you think I am? This thing between us is our fucking marriage. Not some situationship. Although I can’t make you think otherwise because you refuse to. I’m only gonna say this once, okay? I respect you enough to not sleep around behind your back.”

“Thank you, Leon, but I’m saying it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You take both of his hands, wanting to remember the feel of him. “You love someone else and it’s okay. You’re better off with them. Hopefully they’re better at love than I am.”

You take off your ring and place it in your palm, caressing it. “I know I probably shouldn’t be asking for this but I got so used to the weight of it on my finger. Can I have it as a keepsake?”

He grips your wrist tightly, grimacing. “What are you doing?”

“This is me letting you go.”

“No.” He shakes his head, voice thick. The way he places the ring on your finger again is a wretched overcompensation for not doing it before. You two didn’t have rings at the wedding and you were the one to place it on your own finger after purchasing them. “You’re running away,” he speaks in a hoarse croak. “Where will you go this time, hm?”

“I’ll resign and move close to my sister.”

His palms are cupping your jaw, fingertips in your hair. Him closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours is a way of saying I can love you if you give me time, I know I can.

“Stay,” he whispers, narrowing your whole world down to his warmth and you shudder from it. “Just tell me what you need.”

I need you to love me more, love enough to fill me up till there’s no crack left for me to write happy ever afters that will never come true. I need you to fill me full up, love enough to drown it out. Drown me out.

“Kiss me.”

“That I can do, honey.”

You know perfectly well that you’re selfish for wanting him like this. However, you yearn for the still of his hands on you, the irresistible feel of his skin on yours.

A kiss is placed on your temple, another one on your damp cheekbone, another on your jaw. Your eyes are closed the whole time he moves slow with his kisses. He grazes his nose beneath your ear, bringing you close to the brink of tears again. His hot breath is licking the other side of your face after, pecking the corner of your mouth.

“Scoot,” he says before gripping your waist and tipping you towards his torso. “My back is killing me like this.”

You’re afraid of hurting him with your weight but he insists, pulling you and placing you on his lap, getting you to straddle him, your thighs encasing his on either side. Your face a few inches above his, he tips his head back and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can see a gash on his shoulder that disappears down his back which you didn’t notice before and you become aware once again that this isn’t the right moment to ask him for this.

“Leon—”

He can tell you’re about to get off him and he shuts you up by pulling you in a crushing kiss, pressing your chest to his with arms around your back so you won’t get away. “Stay here, don’t run away from me,” he says between labored breaths. His fingertips dance on your sides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. He can probably feel your heart thumping crazy against his chest.

You caress the indent on his chin with your pointer finger, leaning down to kiss it. Leon lets out a delicious sigh, hands feeling up the sides of your thighs.

“Why did you kiss me at the wedding? There was no one to see,” you finally ask.

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the side trying to remember it. “The officiant was there. And the photographer.”

You nod and his lips are on yours again, tender this time. He opts to place quick kisses over and over again when he’s done being gentle. A chuckle escapes you when his nose bumps yours.

Fingers drifting under your shirt, he scratches your back up and down with his blunt nails. Any inch of skin he comes across, he kisses. Earlobe, jaw, neck, shoulder peeking through shirt. One hand splaying his fingers on your back, middle finger in line with your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the other one comes up front, lifting the front hem of your shirt. “Take this off.”

He doesn’t move the hand on your back when you’re taking it off, eyes dropping down to meet the new exposed skin. But you feel too naked, even though he’s wearing the same amount of clothes as you. You hug him around his neck, careful not to hurt him, bare chests pressed together.

He clasps the tops of your arms, biting the inside of one bicep.

“Ouch.” You retreat. “Why did you do that?”

“Let me see you.” He tips you backwards after his hand comes up to your nape, your butt slides on his lap, making you sit right on his crotch. He lets out a content hum, not embarrassed of his half hard erection. You cling to his biceps although his hand on the back of your neck is securing you in place.

A kiss is planted to the base of your throat and then to each collarbone. The hand on the front cups the underside of your breast, goosebumps rising on your skin. A wet kiss on the valley of your breasts, his breath cooling it. A low moan from you when he takes a stiff nipple in his hot mouth, finally giving it some attention. He twirls his tongue around it, teasing, before licking it right.

Your hips move involuntarily, rubbing against him through clothes all the while he sucks, kisses, grazes teeth. A jolt of electricity travels down to your core when he switches sides, underwear clinging to your sticky folds. You keen into him, pushing your chest out when he begins to suck a bruise under your breast. Your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his damp strands.

You discern his knitted brows and inclined back before tapping his shoulder. “Leon, stop.”

He halts the moment he hears you. The sight of a string of spit connecting his lips to your chest is obscene. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re hurting. You should lay down,” you say while standing up.

His eyes never leaving you, he gets off the bed as well. He seizes you under your arms, picking you up with ease. “See, honey? I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” He doesn’t let you protest and nips at your bottom lip before sloppily kissing you, tongue claiming every crevice of your mouth.

“No, put me down!” you wail, kicking your feet in the air.

“Okay, okay,” he grins, setting you down on the floor. Your heated cheeks amusing him, he takes your hand and places it on the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is the only thing you need to worry about.”

You decide to be daring and slide your hand down, palming him through layers of clothing. “Fuck,” he huffs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours, big hands pawing at your backside, fondling your ass. Your hand slips past his briefs, touching him without any barriers.

“Oh, just like that,” he encourages you when you pick up a pace. His abs tightening, it doesn’t take long for him to fully get hard. “Ah, wait—”

“Hm?” You look up at him, just holding him in your palm.

“Need to get a condom, be right back.” He squeezes your ass one last time. “You better take everything off,” he teases before stepping away to get to the bathroom.

Second thoughts come rushing to your mind the time he’s undressing and grabbing a condom in the bathroom. Maybe, you shouldn’t do this. It’s only going to make it harder for the both of you. You admitted loving him and he wasn’t able to say it back. But he told you to stay, he needs you, wants what you’re able to give him. And you desperately need to give him all you have, mind and body, even if it means for a short time.

Because you know you will never be able to love like this again.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a packet of condom is thrown on the bed in front of you, hands gathering your hair on one shoulder to return messy kisses to your neck from the back.

Your back meets his pecs, his erection snug between your bare ass cheeks, you sigh softly when his fingers find their way to your clit, making your spine tingle. You hold on to his forearm, clawing at his veins as he gathers your wetness from your entrance, back to circling your bundle of nerves with now soaked fingers. His bandaged hand urges you to spread your legs more before finding place on your throat. He ruts his hips against your ass, breathing loudly while you whine out incoherent sounds.

He groans your name, drawing your attention up to his scrunched face. “You’re so good to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper as he drags two fingers all the way along your slit, pumping them inside. The way you stretch around his fingers distracts him from the rhythm of his hips, making him still. But you crave the friction, arch back your own hips to get him to move again. Your hand winds around and finds his aching hard dick, thumb stroking the precum all over his angry red tip. Your head rolls back over his shoulder and you want nothing more than to properly see.

“Leon, I’m close,” you moan and push his hand away. “I want to see you.”

“Anything you want, honey,” he pants in your ear, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of it.

You crawl to the middle of the bed, endowing him the sight of your glistening slit before laying down on your back, waiting for him to get on top of you. He parts your legs, taking a good look before smearing his tip on your folds, a mix of your wetness and his precum making it extra slippery.

“Please,” you manage to make out, one arm across your chest, another resting on his shoulder.

He rips your arm from your chest and pulls both your wrists above your head. “I said let me see you.”

He doesn’t let you fuss, fucking up his cock against your clit, allowing himself the bare feel of you for a little while.

He kisses your pout away before retreating to roll the condom on. You hiss as his tip breaches your entrance, legs trying to close on instinct, but he’s laying between them. He gets you used to the feel of him inside before you nod for him to move, slowly at first. Once your back arches and your hips shift, he gets the message to piston his hips faster.

He searches for the right pace just by examining you, what your face does when he tries something new, how your back arches, by the sounds you make. Not too fast, not too slow, he eventually finds an angle you particularly like.

“Too good for me,” he chants whilst thrusting, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head. You notice the absence of his ring but you don’t worry about it because you know he leaves it on his desk when he’s away for a mission, not wanting to lose it.

Your legs hug him around his waist, heels pressing him into you deeper. “Yes, yes, yes…” You keep singing his name when you feel it building up inside.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he grunts, listening to the slaps of skin and your frantic cries of pleasure.

“Good ‘cause I’m so close.”

He takes that as a challenge, making sure you reach your high before him. He watches as you do, walls clenching down on his length, lips chasing his.

He’s cooing in your ear between your gasps, coaxing your bliss out of you. “I know, honey, I gotcha. You can let go.”

Your mouth opening in a silent moan as your orgasm ripples through you, hands trembling in his hold, legs trying to shut, your entire body quivering as you ride it out.

Irregular thrusts of his hips bouncing your breasts in front of him, he nestles his face between them, breathing in your scent. He noses the blossoming mark he left under there and moves slow, dragging it out as much as possible.

He sinks boneless on you, his weight feeling comforting rather than crushing. You embrace him as he softens out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He peels the condom off and lays on you for a while, head between your ribs, trying to catch his breath. You wipe away sweat from his temple, frowning.

“You’ll have to hop in the shower again.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he says, voice muffled and nasal. “And you’re coming with me, too.”

“Leon!” you shriek, playfully slapping his twitching bicep. “You shouldn’t tire yourself more.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was gonna ask you to wash my back.”

After a few minutes, you drag him in the shower, helping him soap his back. He stands under the hot rain when you’re cleaning yourself with his body wash, eyes and hands wandering, groping here and there. You smack his naughty hands each time, can’t help but giggle. However, he’s tired and sleepy, so he’s only playing.

You offer to change his sheets but he insists on doing it in the morning and tugs your arm to your room, preferring to sleep in your clean sheets. He nearly falls asleep as you blow-dry your hair, waiting for you in the bed.

As soon as you’re snuggled up to him, he tucks you to his chest, chin on your forehead. Soft sighs tickle the crown of your hair.

“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs, barely audible.

Your pointer finger stops drawing circles on his pectoral muscle. “Mhm?”

“After your mom and Cathy passed away, how did you survive? There has to be a reason.”

“I actually planned to end it all after both funerals. I told myself to just get past that week. It’ll all be over in a week. But there’s my sister. She came with me to help with Cathy’s funeral. Forced me to eat anything she could cook while I lived on autopilot. She was washing my hair in the sink when I realized I can’t leave her behind. It’s just not fair. She has a wonderful husband but a husband doesn’t mean forever— I mean, look at what my mother got. A deadbeat husband who left her with two little kids. My sister doesn’t have any kids. Worst case scenario, her husband leaves her and—”

He retracts abruptly to search your face, hand on your cheek to steer you to him. “So, you wrote a script again. With a sad ending.”

“My sister is my only family left. I don’t want her to live unhappily.”

“Hey, I’m your family, too. Why are you talking like I’m not here?” He presses a long, soothing kiss to your lips. His fingers tip your chin up. “Look at me. What do you have in that mind of yours? What kind of script do you have for us?”

You lie. “I don’t have one.”

He smiles. “Good. Because we’ll write one as we go on.”

(a/n: a very short part 2 will be posted here in a few days, keep an eye out for that. ty for reading!)

PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)

#leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #i forgot to post this on tumblr #leon kennedy smut

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inc0mple · 25 days ago

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Alright chat, the flip flop is free now, I CAN SHARE MY THEORY.

This started as a vague crack theory but it spiralled and now I have tangible evidence and a thought process and have spent the last week going INSANE but most of the theory rests on one stupid detail---namely, the brand of this mysterious keyholder's flip-flop---that I couldn't share until now.

This theory is---and hear me out---

Before he was a key, Buddy was actually a fictional storybook character turned real.

WARNING: Long, only vaguely coherent rambling and Inco going insane.

Okay I know you're like "wtf are you on about" so just. just. just hear me out pls

To understand this theory we need a little bit of context, which means talking about:

The Elephant Book

"The Elephant Book" is an unfinished comic that Punko worked on before Cinderella Boy or Stagtown. It is a story about two characters who learn the secrets of a hidden organization, called Artifax... secrets that have to do with beloved fictional characters who become real because of readers' love for them. I don't want to spoil too much of it, but I highly recommend giving it a read if you like theorizing about Cinderella Boy. You can get it on her store here as an eBook. It got cancelled before the plot could be fully realized, but here's the thing---Punko has said that The Elephant Book informs Cinderella Boy.

This in itself is intruiging, but what is most fascinating to me---and here is where the flip-flop comes in, LMAO---is one particular plot point.

Again, I don't want to give away too much of the Elephant Book because it's a fantastic story. However, it does feature one part about one book character in particular---Alice, from Alice in Wonderland.

A book character who attempted to enter the "real world" through a looking glass---through a mirror.

And if you take a look at this mysterious keyholder's flip-flop...

IT SAYS ALIC[E].

here me out im not insane here me out

This looks like just a normal brand to me, nothing that has any plot significance. So it's important to ask, why then was it included? Why would Punko include a fictional brand as detailing on a random item of clothing... unless maybe, it was a reference? A jaded, non-diegetic callback to another "Alice" from a different, dropped story...

This leads me to believe that this mystery keyholder was once a storybook character, and has since been greeted into the real world.

I don't know how, but one theory I have is that maybe, to avoid a hassle, Ex Libris may take book characters and turn them real with magic to use as henchmen.

HEAR ME OUT

These people would be untracable; they would have no documents or papers, and nobody from the real world would miss them.

Their memories could be erased or modified so that they do not realize this is their history. They could be amnesic, or remember a false previous life before working for Ex Libris.

They would be easier to control because of this. Ex Libris could manipulate them because they would have qualities that would stop them from fitting into normal life; Ex Libris would feel like the only place they "belonged".

If the keys and their magic exists---and we've seen Violet and Buddy have a spell page---why couldn't this magic be plausible?

Now hear me out even more: Buddy used to be one of them.

I HAVE REASONS.

1. Words n stuff

Weird that Buddy only has one name, or that it doesn't seem to match the other keys.

That's---an underwhelming first point. Uh. That's all. Food for thought.

OH AND ALSO, "Ex Libris" means "from the library of". Could be referring to people who work with them being LITERALLY from books.

2. Dialogue

Perhaps this statement is more literal than we thought. Perhaps in Buddy's "home book", he was a villainous character.

Almost like all three of those phrases apply to him.

3. THE MIRRORS GUYS THE MIRRORS OH MY GOD

Buddy has been seen with plenty of mirror symbolism. Particularly in Dreams by Night:

Reflections show story characters, we know this.

But also, when Buddy escapes through the mirror (like Alice through the looking glass, in The Elephant Book)...

THE GLASS IS CURVED.

But we saw the mirror, the mirror is flat. We know the dreams are supposed to be extremely symbollic...

So what if the mirror is meant to symbolize more of a portal, from one world---a fictional world---to a real one?

...okay thats all i have for now that was kinda underwhelming.

I PROMISE IM NOT INSANE I PROMISE IM MORE COHERENT WHEN IM NOT EXHAUSTED LIKE I AM RIGHT NOW

#cinderella boy #cinderella boy webtoon #cinderellaboy

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the-froschamethyst4 · 9 months ago

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No Need To Cry

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, protective Simon, Pregnant Reader, hormonal reader, married couple, doctors appointment, more use of Simon,

𖤐Summary: During a doctor appointment Y/n gets a bit emotional thinking Simon wouldn’t want a little girl and was nervous to tell him only for him to love the child either way

————

Y/n was sitting in the waiting room of her usual doctors office, her foot bouncing up and down impatiently, she was here on time for her appointment, what's taking so long?

Y/n had looked down at her phone looking at the wallpaper of her and her husband Simon. The photo was of them two at their wedding, the photo was of Simon giving his vows to Y/n and Y/n not being able to hold back tears.

"Y/n?" She looks up at the nurse that came in, she gets up and walks with the nurse, she was behind the nurse rubbing her showing belly, today she was learning the gender of her baby.

Simon couldn't make it because of work but he'll be home later tonight and they can celebrate the gender tonight.

She sits on the small table waiting for her doctor.

But thought kept running through Y/n's mind. Simon had mention how he wanted a boy, a boy so he could teach him things, like fishing, hunting, and even see if his son will be interested in the Military like him.

He's never once brought up what if it was a girl? Will he still be in her life if the baby was a girl and not a boy like he wanted. Y/n has also seen on social media of dads getting mad that the baby is a girl and not a boy. She doesn't want that to be Simon if he's serious about having a boy more than a girl.

"Hi, Miss Y/n, no husband today?" Her doctor asked coming in.

"No, not today, he had work and couldn't get off."

"Well, are you ready to learn the gender?"

"Yes," she sounded nervous.

"Don't worry, it's a big deal. Were you two going to do a gender reveal?" The doctor asked getting everything ready for Y/n.

"No, Simon doesn't want a big party, so we're going to celebrate just us."

"Ah! I see, I understand too, my wife and I didn't do a big party," he says. "Alright lift your shirt," she did and waits for the worse part the ice cold gel the doctor squirts on her stomach.

"Okay..." He says.

Y/n's nerves were at this point shot, she just wants to know, Y/n didn't care on gender she was going to love her child the same way boy or girl.

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

Y/n's appointment was done and she held the envelop in her hands holding the gender of the baby, she looks at it in her hands and was just scared to even open it.

Does she wait for Simon?

Should she open it now?

Should she wait till she's home and not in the parking lot of the doctors office?

She puts it in the passenger seat and starts to drive home the anticipation was killing her.

Getting home she puts the envelop on the counter in the kitchen, she pulls a stool out and sits at the counter, head in her hands as she looks at the unopen envelop.

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

Simon came home, he unlocks the front door kicks his dirty boots off at the front door and places his keys on the keyholder by the front door. He comes around the corner seeing Y/n, at the kitchen counter, head in her hands, looking down at an unopened envelop.

"Love?"

"Simon," he comes up to her kissing her temple.

"How was the appointment?"

"Good."

"So...what's the verdict?" He asked.

"I don't know."

"Huh, what do you mean? You didn't look?"

"I was contemplating opening it, and then I wanted to wait for you, and then I started to get nervous and then just didn't open it, and you're home now, so...maybe we should open it together," she says.

"Sure, love, we can...how long have you been at the counter?" She looks at the clock on the stove.

"5 hours."

"Love."

"I was nervous."

He takes the envelop off the counter and opens it, he starts unfolding the paper and starts reading it, he reads.

Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Riley, you are having...a baby girl.

He sets the paper down and pushes it to Y/n, she reads it and looks up at Simon, he held a smile on his face and held Y/n bring her into a tight hug and resting his big hand on her stomach.

"A baby girl," he says, bending down and kissed Y/n's belly.

Y/n didn't know how to feel, Simon wanted a boy, but he's happy for a girl? Hot tears filled her eyes and her knuckles pushed against her eyes.

Simon hears sniffling, he looks up and sees Y/n's semi red face.

"Love? What's wrong?" He stood up holding Y/n's face and wiping tears from her cheeks.

"I'm happy we're having a girl...but I didn't know how'd you react...you talked about h-how you wanted a boy...and I was scared t-that you'd be d-disappointed that it w-wasn't," she hiccups.

"Love, I married you because I knew you were the one for me, you kept me in my place and you comforting me during my lows. I would never leave you just because we're having a girl. I just talked about how nice it would be if the baby was a boy, but deep down I wanted a little girl. Seeing a mini you run around the house would make my years even better. I would never just walk out that door because we weren't having a boy, that's ridiculous..." he announced while holding Y/n's head against his chest.

"So-"

"I'm not leaving," he says, kissing the top of her head. "Why would I? You're such a beautiful, gorgeous and attractive woman, and you're fucking carrying my child," he says. "No need to cry, my love, I'm not going anywhere and we're going to be the best parents we can be to this baby girl."

He placed his hand on her stomach once more. "I love you," he tells her.

"I love you too, Si." He bends down to her and kissed her lips.

"Now...let's dry those tears of yours, and celebrate."

"What are we going to do? I can't drink."

"I know...I bought you some sparkling apple juice," he says, showing off the bottle that mimicked a wine bottle. "I'll be having this," showing off his usual bourbon drink.

Y/n giggles at her husband and pulls him into another warm hug. "Thank you for being the best husband, I could ask for," she says.

"Of course, my love."

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #ghost cod #ghost x y/n #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader

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purrrtasticsnake · 11 months ago

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Imagine: Jay as your sub

Pairing: sub!Jay x femdom!reader

Warning: slight smut, BDSM themes

(This is a repost of something I wrote awhile ago, which got removed from Wattpad, so don't take it too seriously).

~•~•~•~

• Service sub: He's a bit of a pleaser to say the least. Doing chores for you has become one of his needs, because it gives him so much satisfaction to just do as told and not having to think about anything else.

That's also why you started adding more rules and protocols. As soon as he does one thing incorrectly, he gets punished for it. Which might sound cruel, but he actually loves punishments.

• Chastity: Throughout most of the time, he has to wear a cock cage. It prevents him from touching himself and getting hard. You own his orgasms, so it only made sense to become his keyholder. This is one of those rules that Jay absolutely goes crazy for. Just feeling desperate and knowing that his dick only belongs to you makes him feel euphoric.

When you finally release him from his cage, the adrenaline starts rushing through his body, and he falls in love with you all over again. But even when you unlock him, he's not allowed to just do anything he wants. You'll either give him instructions how to touch himself, or you'll handle it yourself.

• Hardcore: It's really embarrassing for him to admit, but getting handled roughly is his biggest turn on. Hair pulling, face smacking, impact toys, ...it puts him into subspace superfast. He even has a collar that says 'pain slut' because that's literally what he is.

You've tried countless things on him like, electroplay, staples, waxplay, the list goes on. To your surprise he's never disliked any sort of painful stimulation. Aftercare is a must in this relationship.

☆ Choosing Game: ☆

(● = his choice/preference)

○ rewards

● punishments/funishments

○ getting spoiled by Domme

● servicing his Domme

● petplay

○ ageplay

(Esspecially dark petplay)

● obedient

○ brat

(He'll only act disobedient when he's desperate for a funishment)

○ praise

● degradation

○ bondage

● impact play

○ exhibitionist

● voyeur

○ low protocol

● high protocol

#sub enhypen #sub!idol #dom!reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sub!enhypen #sub idol #sub!jay #sub jay

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mtndewmacky · 1 month ago

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“Boo, this guy stinks!” You all say as I drop yet another banger art piece of ocs instead of the yaoi we need. /j

Anyways made my keysona at last, he’s kinda a mix of both self-insert/sona & oc cuz I wanted to hit two birds with one stone.

Info below (prepare for a whole wall of context, you are warned)

Citrine, he/him male key, made from the citrine gemstone and has accents of blue topaz, especially for his eyes.

- narrator key (elaborated later), former ex-libris key now being used by Shiya Ang, my oc whom you’ve probably seen me post a bit of.

- significant note is that I take inspiration for his personality from the narrator of hit game Stanley Parable, except more chillax and not British. Like the game’s narrator, he originally intends for Shiya to complete the book the way it’s intended/written, but after bearing her rebellious nature and her tendency to get things done in random ways, he decided since to give up on it.

- like I said he’s two birds in one stone, in that he is a representation of myself as a key (like some of you did), and also doubling as an oc (original character), because for a while I’ve envisioned Shiya being a key holder like the main crew.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I didn’t want to reveal much of my daughter due to her personality being tied to her key- this is because I envision her as a very vocal and outgoing person. Think activists and protestors- you always see them speaking their mind to the masses- Shiya is no different. While slightly stubborn, she isn’t afraid to stand up for her beliefs or others and say what’s on her mind (making her very unfiltered, which sometimes leads to unhinged phrases). Her being a guiding voice for others is equivalent to that of a narrator’s role- they guide the reader through the book and through character’s actions, thoughts, dialogue, and feelings.

Currently, I am debating on keeping Shiya as a keyholder, mainly because I feel it is too “op” or “Mary sue” or whatever kids these days (I say this like im significantly older but I’m not) consider it. To me I feel my child is a background or side/supporting character, so I’m not quite sure on whether she’d be deserving of a key or not. Regardless of if I keep it or change it, she’s still going to be a very loud person.

Also, I guess I didn’t mention it in my previous posts, but she’s also supposed to be a librarian (this may be subject to change), either in the library of Sugar Springs for a summer job, or an on-campus job in the library of Deacon’s college (of whom she is friends with). This is a very ironic job because they legit hiring a loudmouth to run a typically quiet job.

Aside from Shiya’s connection to the key, I also wanted to discuss the mechanics (eww im using gamer terms im such a dweeb eww /j) of the narrator key, aka how he functions/how uses him (yes I am that serious of a nerd to plan all that out).

- Essentially, the idea is that when the main crew obtain Shiya & the narrator key on their side, it acts equivalent to a level-up/upgrade, in the sense that they no longer need to rely on reading or memorizing the whole book *cough Deacon cough* to get through the story. At any given point, if the cast is stuck and unable to determine what to do next, they can ask Shiya to use her narrator role to forsee the next event. Shiya is able to do this by being equipped with a literal miniature pocket book (similar to that of her key’s pocket watch; the book only appears within the story realms) that can shift its interior into the plot of whichever story they work within. There is a downside however— they can rely on this power only three times within each story, and sometimes using it drains narratonin. It will drain a lot more narratonin in more complex books or longer novels. Once used three times within a story, the book immediately disintegrates from her hand.

- Another feature is that she is able to narrate the story both aloud and in the minds’ of other keyholders, so long as they’re in proximity of each other, otherwise rendering this skill useless. She has to be careful when doing this however, because there is a risk of using one of three chances when someone may actually know how to progress the story— it’s up to Shiya’s own judgement to determine whether she thinks they are progressing or not.

Aside from all that Shiya mainly likes to chill and roll with the story, acting as the other background characters do and moving from event to event. Since Shiya cannot dye her hair in real life due to hair sensitivity, she often likes to have Citrine dye her hair for her in stories— her hair often being the only major change to her appearance throughout each book. Her relationship with her key is fairly positive, as she helps him ease his mind every day since his release from key form.

Anyways, that’s all the text you’re getting from me. I have a lot of more information about my ocs posted within the (unofficial yet only other server) non-patreon discord server for Cinderella Boy. Thank you if you reached the end. ❤️

#cinderella boy #cinderella boy oc #Cinderella boy keysona #cinderella boy keys #stop being a loser and start being a horse

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epinebleue · 2 years ago

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love me now (m) | 05

in which you go for a night drive.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), car sex, mention of past toxic relationships.

chapter index

Most times, Friday nights are pretty lively.

Sometimes, you go to your favorite club, whose owner is a good friend of yours. If you’re not in the mood for clubbing, you order pizza and watch a movie before making out on the couch.

But today is different. You’re bored as hell, having lost all interest in the movie you’re supposed to be watching. Johnny must feel the same, because when you turn to look at him, he’s scrolling through his Instagram feed aimlessly with one hand, caressing your leg with the other.

“Why don’t we go out?” He suddenly says, blocking his phone and leaving it on the coffee table.

“I don’t feel like partying.”

“I didn’t mean to party.” He corrects. “Something like a night drive.”

That sounds much better, so you accept right away. You pick something comfortable, not bothering to glance at the rest of the clothes in your wardrobe. When you reach the entrance, you see that Johnny has chosen something sporty, too. He grabs his keys from the keyholder next to the intercom, opening the door for you.

“Why don’t we get McDonald’s?”

You’re unable to contain your excitement, smiling as you get in the elevator, and pushing the parking button. Johnny grabs your cheeks and kisses your forehead so delicately that you think you’ll melt in his arms.

“Anything for you, babe.”

You sit on the passenger seat, immediately demanding the aux cord. Johnny doesn’t even fight it, knowing it’ll be a waste of time. It’s a fact that you’re in charge of the music when you travel by car. It’s also a fact that won't change anytime soon.

The car starts moving, and Johnny drives towards the nearest McDonald’s.

The song you’ve chosen plays softly in the background as you observe the streetlights through the window.

“How come we’ve never done this before?”

Johnny simply shrugs, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Maybe it wasn’t the right time yet.”

“Wow.” You nod, feigning being impressed. “Deep.”

You open the window on your side, the night breeze hitting your face. You cross your arms over the window, your eyes drawn to the city lights that seem endless.

New York’s beauty is truly hypnotizing.

This is the city where you were born and raised; where you studied; in which you met most of your friends. It’s the city that gave you Johnny, and that makes it much more special.

Johnny pulls into the drive-thru, steering the wheel with his palm. The technique makes your stomach tingle. He always looks so hot while driving, you could watch him for hours.

There��s only one car in front of you, so they prepare your order rather quickly. To be honest, you’ve been craving a burger, fries, and ice cream for a while, so you don’t hold yourself back. You’ll eat everything, even if it means having a stomachache later. It’ll have been worth it.

You pay, then move to the parking lot. You give Johnny his burger, which is huge, and fish for your fries at the bottom of the bag.

“I remember that when I was little,” Johnny says, “I celebrated my birthday at McDonald’s. They even gave me a paper crown.”

“That’s what I call luxury.”

“Mom sent me the photo yesterday.”

Johnny takes his phone out of his pocket, scrolling down the gallery until he finds said picture. A big smile crosses your face when he shows it to you.

Johnny couldn’t be more than six years old. His round face is the first thing you notice. Then, you look at his mom, who is holding him in her lap. She looked so pretty with her short hair and dark lipstick. In all honesty, she hasn’t changed much. They’re both wearing a paper crown shaped like a clown.

“Your mom’s so beautiful.”

“What about her son?”

He leans forward, brushing your cheek with the tip of his nose.

“He’s even more beautiful.”

Johnny kisses you, satisfied with the answer. He loves compliments, especially if they come from you. He gets all shy and smiley, and his cheeks go pink.

It’s crazy to think that, when you met Johnny, you found him a bit intimidating. He was tall and only wore black clothes, plus his resting bitch face didn’t help at all. But once you started talking and got to know each other better, you realized he was a human-shaped teddy bear rather than a jerk.

His voice snaps you out of your memories and brings you back to the present time.

“What if I buy another burger?”

You gasp, laughing in disbelief. “Babe, no!”

“Why not?” He mops, discharging the wrap on the empty bag placed in between the seats.

“One is enough.” You insist.

“They’re small! Two is the perfect amount.”

“They seem small because your hand is huge. If you eat another one, cholesterol will atrophy your arteries and, eventually, you’ll die.” Your tone is so serious that Johnny starts laughing seconds later, covering his face with his hands. “Why are you laughing? I’m right!” Now you’re laughing, too.

“That was so mean!”

“It's a medical fact, Johnny!.”

“Fine, you convinced me.”

Once you’ve finished your meal, Johnny drives aimlessly around the city before deciding where to go next. There’s a park from which you can see New York’s skyline, so that’s the destination. Johnny manages to find a secluded spot from which you have a nice view of the city, along with some privacy.

“This might be the best idea I’ve had this week.”

“Or this month.”

Your soft laughs fill the car for a few seconds before going back to silence. Johnny glances in your direction, watching you get lost in the stars and the lights of the city that watched you grow up.

“Everything okay?”

You hum, nodding. “I’m just… reminiscing.”

“A penny for your thoughts.”

You take a deep breath, your eyes never darting away from the view beneath you.

“During my last year of high school, I dated this boy. He was handsome and so, so funny. He treated me like a queen and sometimes made me wonder if he had just jumped right out of a fairy tale. We had the most romantic six months and then, he left me. He never said why, he didn’t even dare to break up with me in person. He told my best friend and asked her to give me the message.”

“What a fucker.” Johnny mumbles.

“For the longest time, I thought I was the problem because I wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, smart enough for him. I felt so worthless and sad that I kind of started to drift away. I allowed pretty fucked up things to happen to me that I’ve tried to forget.” Johnny grabs your hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. You’ve got his full attention. “Years later, I started dating again, but I… I was scared all the time. Not that they were horrible people, I was just afraid that they would leave me and make me return to the toxic relationship I had with myself. And then, you came around.”

You turn your head, looking for Johnny’s eyes. He’s looking at you with those fond orbs that you adore.

“Not once have you made me doubt myself. In any way.”

He cups your cheeks and pecks your lips, moving away just enough for you to look him in the eye again.

“I’ll never give you a reason to be scared.”

You give him a reassuring smile.

“I know.”

Slowly, Johnny starts kissing you, his lips soft and warm. The tip of his tongue touches your mouth and you open it, giving him full access. His wet muscle brushes yours and, delicately, Johnny holds the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You reach for his T-shirt, your clouded mind looking for the craved contact, any kind of contact.

“I need you.” He mumbles against his lips, and it’s all you need to hear.

You straddle his lap, trying to find a comfortable position in the driver's seat of the car. Johnny’s basketball shorts are thin enough to let you feel his boner against your core, and you find satisfaction in the fact that he’s just as worked up as you are. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Johnny squeezes you against his clothed chest, so tightly that you don’t know where you start and where Johnny ends.

You could get caught, you could get arrested, but none of that fades you. Right now, the only thing in your mind is Johnny. Johnny licking the length of your neck, Johnny biting where he knows it’ll make you hiss his name. You drag your hips, humping his boner, and when Johnny moans against your mouth, the little clarity you have slips through your fingers like water.

“What about taking this to the back?”

Johnny’s nod is enough of an answer. Before you know it, you’re making your way into the backseat, Johnny on your heels.

Your hands untie the lace of your sweatpants the moment you fall on the seat, Johnny lingering in the door, watching you. You take them off under his gaze, pressing your back against the door behind you and opening your legs to let him peek at the wet patch in your underwear. It’s not long before you take it off, too, the crisp air making you shiver.

“You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Come and punish me, then.”

You straddle his lap once again when Johnny gets in the car, your lips crashing against his. He looks for the door’s handle in the dark, slamming it, before taking off both his shorts and boxers in a swift movement.

You feel Johnny’s hand sneaking in between your bodies, then he’s forcing his length into you.

New York is a beautiful city, especially at night, but you’ve got the best view in front of you. Johnny lets his head fall back, his pretty mouth open and gasping for air as you start bouncing on his cock without warning, too eager to wait.

Johnny looks at you through half-opened eyes, his hands falling on your waist to give a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen.” He whispers against your neck. “Especially when I’m balls-deep inside you.”

“I’m even prettier when you make me cum.”

Johnny’s fingers dig into your ass, guiding you up and down his cock.

“Is that so?”

You nod, biting your lips at the feeling of his tip hitting that spot that makes you go feral.

“You should see for yourself.”

Johnny takes it seriously, hugging your waist and fixing you in place, his pace getting quicker.

You didn’t expect to get railed in the backseat of his car when he offered a midnight drive, but here you are, wishing you were completely naked to scratch his broad shoulders, back, and chest, which he loves.

Today, he’ll have to settle for the mark of your teeth in his collarbone.

He pants in your ear, his hot breath fanning the droplets of sweat that decorate your neck like diamonds. You whine and wiggle, trying to break free from his grip.

“I want to ride you.”

Johnny usually makes you beg a little more, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets go of your waist.

You grind back and forth, making the most out of this new freedom he has granted you. It’s so hot inside the car that the windows are all fogged and your top sticks to your body. You take it off, much to Johnny’s delight, who grabs your breasts and squeezes them.

His hands move up and reach your sweaty neck, pushing away the strands of hair glued to the skin to lock one of them behind it. He uses it to hold you down, retraining your movements.

You open your mouth to protest, but he kisses you before you can say anything, rubbing your clit with his free hand, making you tremble, a choked moan ricocheting against the walls of the vehicle.

“Sorry, baby.” He says even though he’s not sorry at all, thrusting faster. “You can be in charge another time.”

The brutal pace of both his hips and hand is enough to make you forget why you were mad in the first place. He pounds into you as if you hadn’t had sex in months, he growls like an animal when you try to fuck him back, eyes shut close to focus on the feelings of his cock making its way into you over and over again.

Your legs hurt, yet you don’t want to stop.

You don’t last long, white sparkles dance around in the darkness when you reach your high.

Johnny fucks you through it for as long as he can, pressing his hips to yours as he fills you up, your name in his mouth like a song.

You rest your head on his shoulder, allowing him to caress your hair, you both trying to catch your breaths.

“Was that good?”

“I’ve got your cum inside me.” You remark. “So there’s your answer.”

Johnny’s chest shakes with his laugh, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You would fall asleep if it wasn’t for his voice breaking the silence.

“Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“What?”

“There’s a car parked right next to us.”

No reposting or translations allowed.

#nct smut #nct fic #nct johnny #johnny smut #nct johnny smut #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fic #nct johnny fic #johnny imagine #johnny suh #nct fic smut

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issdisgrace · 1 year ago

Note

Haven't been on Tumblr for a while and just noticed you were taking requests so I was wondering if I can request a scenario with Thomas Hewitt where him and reader are coworkers back when the slaughter house was open. And like maybe once everyone left, they'd fool around in the boss's office or something. And if it's possible can reader be Dom top? Anyway, I hope you have a good day!

MANAGERS OFFICE

WARNINGS: Making out, ass eating, fucking, you know the normal smut stuff

You had recently become a keyholder to the slaughterhouse, meaning you were now the one that opened and closed.

You got this extra responsiblty because the manger hated having to open early and close late. You were also one of the only ones he trusted enough not to abuse the power of having keys to the slaughterhouse.

This was arangment was fine for a couple of weeks until the manger started to push more of his responsibilies off on you.

Wanting to get back at him one night after everyone left you led Thomas up to the office. He was confused at first but quickly got the message as you pulled him into a kiss.

A kiss quickly turned into two then eventually it turned into a make out session. You felt each other up and pawed at the others clothes. The pawing at each other's clothes quickly turned into clothes coming off.

After clothes were off things progressed even further and Thomas found himself bent over the desk getting his ass eaten out by you.

He moaned as you ate him like a starving man. Pushing himself back into you. Practially suffocating in his ass you felt at content as you fucked him open using your tounge and fingers.

Once he was open enough. You got up, spit on your hand before slathering your cock with the spit. Lining up with Thomas you slowly push in, his tight hole envloping him.

You fucked him slow and hard at first before gradually quickening your pace. You fucked him so hard and with such vigor that he felt like he was being split open.

In the past, you've fucked him hard and fast but not like this. You've never fucked him like this. It was like you were trying to fuck a kid into him and to be fair that thought had crossed your mind but that wasn't your ulimate goal.

With the way you were fucking him and on top of the fact that you guys were doing so in your managers office it was no suprise that Thomas came fast.

Still not satiated you continued to fuck him into overstimualtion and by the time you came he had alread cummed 2 more times.

Slowly coming down from both of your highs. You realised how late it was. You both quickly cleaned up then you locked up the slaughterhouse as Thomas waited out in the car, needing to rest specially after what we did.

Once you locked up and headed out to the car. The two of you drove home in silence. Both of you silently bracing yourselves for the ear full that you two would get from Hoyt once you got back because Luda Mae forced everyone to wait for the two of you to get back before eating.

#thomas hewitt #slasher #thomas hewitt x male reader #thomas hewitt x reader #slasher x male reader #slasher x reader

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vixhound · 6 months ago

Text

Cage Check Day 1

Hound Dog

description: 30 day writing challenge of 30 days of long distance chastity between established D/s dynamic transmasc!keyholder!reader x sub!locked!soap, tags will be listed w/each chap, it gets gross. (we’re gonna act like this all possible)

cw: chastity, cock cages, long distance D/s dynamic, kinda puppy play, humiliation/degradation play, praise, soap being a little bit of a brat but also the worlds goodest boy, plushophilia

“I don’t see how this is a reward.”

“Is that so?” You ask, watching him from the corner of your vision. “We could always leave now if you don’t want it.”

“I want it.” He replies miffed.

“Then quit whining puppy.”

The resulting pout, while perhaps a bit bratty, signifies your win.

Staring at the wall of unstuffed animals and the aisles of cutesy clothing & items for them, Johnny isn’t really sure why this is what you chose. Clearly you’re up to something.

You’d put him in his new more comfortable cage this morning, the start of a challenge spoken about between you for the past few weeks.

What he hadn’t expected for his first day of lock up was to be taken to Build-a-Bear. If it was for you it’d make more sense. For you to have something soft and cuddly while he’s gone because he’s leaving, again.

The world and his job calling him away. You’d almost called off the month of lockup entirely but Johnny is nothing if not persuasive.

Thirty days locked in chastity is daunting in and of itself and to be done long distance will be rougb. He’d made the argument though, it would be a comfort to him, that physical reminder of his submission to you and you were maybe just a bit weak to the puppy eyes he gave.

Besides it’s not like it’s his first time in chastity. …he can do this!

For now though, before you say your goodbyes in the morning, back to shopping. You steer him in the direction of the clothes.

“Shouldn’t we pick the stuffed animal first?” he asks.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about that, I’ve already got your stuffie. We just need some clothes to dress ‘im up.” Your eyes rove over the clothes surely comparing them to some mental checklist.

You hand Johnny a tank top, camouflage bottoms, and a pair of black boots, not unlike something you’ve seen him in before. A brush is also added to the pile.

“Why the brush?” Johnny asks in the checkout, running his thumb over the bristles.

“That will be one of your tasks, you are going to brush you stuffie in the morning and at night when you go through you normal routine.”

“So it not a reward.” He pouts again as you both walk out. “It’s a ploy to give me more tasks.”

“The way you’re going right now I’m considering a punishment instead. How does your crate sound for tonight, hm?”

He stops in his tracks.

“You wouldn’t… I leave in the morning.”

“Cmon pup, you know better than that.”

and he does, it’s not about what feels good when it comes to punishment and discipline. He knows it would hurt you just as much as it would hurt him to not get to lie together tonight.

The crates not usually a punishment, but it’s an effective threat right now. One that he knows you’ll follow through on if need be.

You don’t make idle threats.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“For?”

“For getting smart with you when you’re trying to do something nice for me. I’m sorry for not appreciating it.” If he had a tail it would surely be tucked between his legs.

“There’s my good boy.” You press a kiss to his cheek, take his hand, and lead him home.

The house is comfortably warm, a welcomed difference from the boring cold outside. A candle flickers over the mantle leaving the room with scent of pine in the air.

He watches from the couch as you disappear into the bedroom, only to emerged a few moments later with his reward.

you hold it out to him like it’s something precious and so he too holds it with such care.

It’s a redish-brown stuffed dog with floppy ears, wearing a blue collar and clothes he could pick out from his own closet.

A tag hangs from the collar, the dogs name etched into the metal.

“Soap?” He blinks down at it. “Why my call sign?”

“That’s you, I want you to take care of him while we are apart. He’s a reminder of who you are to me. So treat him well, that’s my puppy I’m putting you in charge of.” You run your fingers through his mohawk before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head, then the stuffie.

“I shouldn’t have been a little shit earlier.” Tears spring to his eyes, fuck he misses you already.

“None of that now. No talking about my puppy that way, yeah? I knew you get big feelings and have to howl and whine about it. That’s why your stuffie is a hound dog.” You say with mirth.

His cheeks heat at the teasing.

“Thank you, Sir.” Johnny says later in bed.

He holds the stuffie close to his chest while you spoon him. Like this he can tell that you sprayed it with your cologne, he can help the way his cock jumps in its cage.

Goosebumps sprout on his arms as your fingers trail down his chest, down his stomach, and under his waistband.

“Sir.” He whines, it’s only day 1 and already it’s torture.

“Shh puppy, I’m just checking.” Your fingers brush over the plastic, touch featherlight as you feel around the base of him where his flesh ends and the cage begins.

He can feel the grin on your face.

You giggle when you feel how he throbs as you sink your teeth into the meat of his shoulder.

“Goodnight puppy.”

“Goodnight Sir.”

#call of duty #john soap mactavish x reader #transmasc!reader #mdni #read the cw #I did not check for grammar mistakes so enjoy that #cage check

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parkerpeter24 · 2 years ago

Text

the swim quotient

pairing ➳ swim instructor!peter parker x reader

w.c. ➳ 4.6k

summary ➳ peter’s your swim instructor and even though you want to keep a professional relationship with him, feelings– and your best friend– get in the way.

okay so this is supposed to be my birthday present to myself (even tho it was like a week ago so belated birthday, me) this fic could be read for mcu as well as tasm peter

“8 to 9 am is the time for kids. if you want one-on-one lessons, you need to come at 7 am.” the guy behind the desk told you that as he pushed down his glasses to get a better look at your face. you nodded and filled the form for one-on-one classes and paid the fees.

it would be just easier without all the humiliation, you thought, that’s why you chose to learn alone. it was a reasonable price even if it cost you a few more bucks than learning with the others.

“your trainer will be mr. parker.” he informed you and you thanked him, “you’ll find his number in the list outside.” exchanging smiles with the older man before you left the office of the community club. you checked out the list, clicking a picture of number under the name ‘peter parker’.

you hoped the guy wasn’t too harsh on you. you still remembered the time your dad taught you how to drive. just the thought of it made you wince. the constant jabs at your sanity and judgement, it all was just too much to handle. but you were hoping for the best now.

when your friend called you on your way back home, you told her about your idea of learning how to swim, “you know, i would have saved you in case you were drowning.”

you rolled your eyes but her comment made you chuckle, “what if you weren’t there?” you held the phone between your shoulder and ear as you fished for your keys in the tote bag you were carrying, “i’m a little nervous, what if this peter parker guy is horrible?”

“there’s a guy?” you could practically hear your friend’s raised eyebrow but you continued your ramble, not stopping for her to elaborate on her thoughts.

“you know, i don’t really trust any guy to teach me anything.” you entered your apartment, placing the keys in the keyholder and kicking off your shoes, “they’re just not that good at teaching.”

“maybe he’s a cute guy?” she chuckled at the other end.

“it won’t matter if he’s not a good guy!” you sighed, plopping down at your couch, your legs instinctively going up as you placed them one over the other on the couch.

“what if he’s a really good guy.” your friend could not have sounded more suggestive and you almost wanted to gag at that comment.

“gwendolyne.” as you’d guessed, a whine sounded from the other side of the phone. she hated when anyone called her, her full name.

“it’s gwen for you. anyway, just give it a try and if you don’t like his way of teaching, then you can just ask for another coach.” she said and you thought it over. she was right, you could always ask for a different person to teach you.

“thanks, gwen.” you smiled, “okay, i have to go now but i’ll call you later.”

the next day you were on your way to the community club pool and even though you had hated waking up at 6 am, you were also a little excited– and nervous– to experience something new.

you entered the facility, carrying your swimming costume and other equipment in your tote bag. as the swimming pool came into view, your eyes searched for your trainer– he has to be around here somewhere.

“excuse me, miss?” the voice came from behind and you turned to find the source. your mouth parted to say something but no words came out. if anyone else was in your place, you thought, they would have had the same reaction. a gorgeously tanned guy, brown mop of hair swept across his forehead in a way that was messy but as if on purpose. and oh, he was not wearing a t-shirt.

his swim trunks hung from his waist perfectly, carved abs and a chiselled torso above that. you were almost mesmerised by just one look of him.

“um… you’re (y/n), right?” you noticed his tinted cheeks and snapped yourself out of your daydream.

“that’s me.” you answer, standing up straighter, “you must be mr. parker?”

“oh, call me peter, please.” he smiled at you and you were bound to give him one back, “why don’t you go and change and we’ll get started.”

“yes.” you nodded, quickly making your way to one of the changing rooms. your mind was racing with thoughts as you changed into the swim gear. he seemed in his early twenties, very close to your age but finding him attractive felt against your morals. you were supposed to have a professional relationship with him and if he was a good teacher, you would just suppress your feelings deeper inside you than the depth of this swimming pool.

“all ready.” you said, walking out from the changing room only to find peter was already in the swimming pool, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he emerged out of the pool. he pushed his hair back, away from his forehead, as it sat perfectly over his head.

“hey!” peter gave you a smile as you walked to the side of the pool where the pool ladder was situated, “you excited for your first lesson?”

“a little nervous.” you chuckled, telling him the truth for some reason. you should probably trust the guy if he was going to be the one who pulled you out in case you were drowning.

“hey. no need for that.” his voice was comforting as you climbed down into the pool, the water level reaching your chest, “just breathe… while your head is above water.”

“what?” you couldn’t help but chuckle at his little quip.

“sorry, that was a silly joke. anyway, let’s start with holding our breath underwater, alright?”

“you’re the boss” you smiled.

“okay, i’m not the kind of person to be all like, ‘i told you so’ but i told you so!” gwen exclaimed before you even finished your sentence.

“i was going to say he’s a good teacher!” you were back at your apartment and it was after you had breakfast that you received a call from gwen.

“and?” she waited for you to go on as if she already knew.

“and… he was kind of cute.”

“i knew it!” she cheered and you couldn’t help but laugh along with her, “you should totally kiss him.”

“i- he doesn’t even like me! i want to keep it professional.” you had said it with an affirmative tone but you doubted your own voice.

“maybe tomorrow?” you groaned at that.

“you’re mad. bye.” you chuckled.

“maybe tomorrow you can make out in the-” that was the last you heard of your friend’s voice before you cut the call.

the next day you made it to the pool on time. there was no sign of peter and you didn’t know whether you should get in the pool or not. you waited, sitting patiently on the bench near the pool until you caught sight of peter. he was carrying a bunch of equipment almost too much for a single person to carry.

you rushed up to him, “hey.” you said. he smiled when he saw you.

“sorry, i’m late.”

you just shook your head at his apology and held out your arms, “need some help?” him handing you a few of the kickboards and a few goggles.

the two of you carried those to the store room and placed the certain items in their assigned boxes. peter checked the time on his phone once you both were done, “we only have 40 minutes left, why don’t you go change and we’ll start right where we left yesterday?”

you gave him a nod and quickly went to change into your swimming clothes.

once the two of you were inside the pool, peter told you to hold onto the wall, “i need you to relax your body and hold your breath for as long as you can.”

you nodded and slid your pair of goggles over your eyes before doing as he told you. estimatedly 30 seconds later, your head was out of the water as you released your breath, standing beside your instructor.

“good! that was good. almost three seconds more than yesterday.” he gave you a grin and you chuckled, “now what i want you to do is breathe out through your nose slowly while you’re underwater.” he explained.

again you did as he said, pulling yourself up every time you needed a breath.

“don’t push your limits.” peter said once after you had tried to hold your breath for longer than 35 seconds, “my arm is right here in case you need to hold onto something.” a blush appeared over his cheeks as he realised what that must’ve sounded like, “you know! i-in case you need help.”

maybe it was you, reading in between the lines, but the chuckle he let out made him sound kind of nervous. you were definitely not going to tell gwen about this.

over the next two days, you continued to practice breath holding underwater until peter proposed you move on to the next step. as soon as you entered the pool that day, it was the first thing he said.

“leave the wall?” you gave him a look of uncertainty, “are you sure i’m ready for that?”

peter nodded simply and held out his hands for you to take, “here, i’ll help you.” you took his hands but he could probably notice your nervousness– which he didn’t need to know was partly because both your hands were in his– and hesitancy as he said, “just trust me, okay?”

“i trust you.” you replied before his sentence was even finished.

he smiled, pulling you away from the edge of the pool slightly, “i won’t leave your hands until you’re completely ready.” he smiled and guided you to relax your body and let it float just like you had been doing up until now. this time, however, it was peter’s skilled hands that you were holding instead of the dull wall.

he walked back, pulling you along the surface of the body as you let yourself float against the water. It was only a few seconds in that you pulled yourself up from the water, holding tightly onto peter’s hands, “s-sorry, i-” you expected him to be frustrated or scold you for not doing better. but he didn’t do any of that.

“you okay?” he squeezed your hands gently, “did you accidentally breathe in water? it happens when you’re a beginner.”

“i’m okay. i just thought i was going down instead of floating.” you chuckled a little awkwardly.

“oh! that means that you need to push your head further down. if your head is down, your legs will automatically float close to the surface.” he explained, all the while holding your hands and you nodded, letting him know that you were listening to him even though you were zoning out, a fluttering heart in your chest as you outlined his slightly wet curls.

thankfully you had understood the basic points of what he was trying to explain to you which made your session go smoothly from that point.

when the two of you were out of the pool and the kids had started filling in, you walked over to peter, who was standing with another guy and talking to him.

when you reached the two men chatting over whatever they were chatting over. the other guy nudged peter’s side with his elbow, giving him a smirk as soon as you reached there. He quickly turned, eyes slightly wide, “oh. hey (y/n)!” he seemed nervous again but the other guy cleared his throat before you could say anything, “right! (y/n), this is my friend ned. ned, (y/n).”

ned leeds. you’d read his name on the list of employees outside the community club office, just below peter’s name.

“i’ve heard a lot about you, (y/n).” ned gave you a smile, extending his hand for a handshake.

“oh?” you looked over at peter, shaking ned’s hand, but the brunette’s head was already turned towards his friend in what you could only assume a warning. it made you chuckle, “i teach the kids.” ned gave you a smile and you could tell why he was the one assigned to teach the kids. he seemed like the kind of person who was good at making people around him comfortable just with his presence.

“you wanted to say something?” peter was the one to ask after ned parted ways with the two of you to look after all the kids– there were way too many.

“i just wanted to ask whether i did well today…” you gave him a little smile.

“oh, you’re a natural.” he grinned back, “i was impressed!”

“yeah?” you asked, not really believing his words, even though a warmth covered your whole body. you felt a deep sense of accomplishment and the smile on your face increased tenfold.

“yeah.” he confirmed, a smile covering his own face.

“thank you.” you smiled, eyes staring into his beautiful brown ones, “you look nicer when i’m not wearing the goggles.”

peter looked at you, “w-what?”

was that a nervous ‘what’ or a disgusted ‘what’? god, had you messed up already? how could you have said that out loud? it was probably one of those stupid moments of confidence boost where you ended up telling an answer to the whole class in a very firm voice only to be told it was wrong.

you gave him a pursed smile, “uh.. i should get going. see you then.”

the look of stun was still written all over his face as you turned to leave, but you didn’t give him a chance to say something. you weren’t ready to face rejection from a guy you hadn’t even asked out. not that you were thinking about asking him out. for all you cared, you didn’t care at all.

you felt a small splash of water on your leg, wetting your jogging shoes. you let out an offended, “hey!” before you noticed the little girl leaning against the wall of the pool. you raised your eyebrows at her as she beckoned you closer with her little hand. you leaned forward in a squat position in front of her to let her say whatever it was she wanted, “hey kid, is everything alright?”

“i’m cassie.” she introduced herself before asking, “is he your boyfriend?”

even though peter could not be seen around anymore, you were certain whom she was referring to.

you chuckled and shook your head, “oh, no. he’s not my boyfriend.” yet you wanted to add but somehow refrained yourself from doing so.

“i think he is cute.” she gave you a challenging look, making you chuckle at her adorableness.

“hey, i’ll back off if you like him.” you promised, giving her a finger gun. she shrugged.

“if you really like him then, i can let you have him.” she said, her elbows holding onto the pavement that was beneath your feet.

“oh, really? that’s very sweet of you, cassie.” you smiled at her.

“but you have to buy me ice-cream.” she grinned before quickly turning away and swimming away at the sight of ned walking towards that side of the pool.

it was raining heavily the next day. you thought to call peter before going to the pool unannounced in case it was closed. you called him once at 6:23 am but his phone was busy. who could he be talking to this early in the morning?

he called you back at 6:24. you picked up after counting to five, not wanting to seem too desperate, “hello?”

“hey, (y/n).” you could hear the small smile he was holding on the other end, making you think if he had forgiven you for what you blurted out yesterday, “what’s up?”

“hey... peter, it’s raining pretty heavily, are you going to the swimming pool today?”

“oh, i’m already in! but i understand if you can’t make it today.” he stated and you nodded, realising after a moment that he couldn’t see you.

“yeah, i can’t today… and tomorrow’s sunday so i guess i’ll see you monday?” you asked.

“sounds good!” he said.

you held the phone close to your ears, not really knowing what else to say. you couldn’t think of anything as you silently heard all the background commotion on his end. he didn’t say anything either and for a moment the thought that he didn’t want to end the call either crossed your mind.

but you pushed that out of your head.

“i’m sorry about yesterday.” you finally spoke, “i shouldn’t say that to-”

“i appreciated it… it just came as a surprise.” he chuckled, “and you left too quickly.”

you couldn’t help the smile that covered your face after hearing his comment, “sorry about that.”

“hey, stop apologising already. maybe i can give you a compliment next time so that we’re even.”

it was your turn now to fall silent. your heart skipped three beats at once as he said that. despite that, you found yourself smiling, “sure, i don’t see why not.”

there was another beat of silence but peter decided to break it before it could get uncomfortable, “so, you busy?”

and so the conversation continued. you told him you were just looking out to the street where small water puddles had already formed. you told him that you loved the rain. he told you that he hated it since the time it rained so much on his birthday that he was stuck at school for five straight hours until his uncle ben came to pick him up.

it was almost an hour later when you had to excuse yourself from peter as your doorbell rang.

“i’ll see you monday!” he said before hanging up and you quickly made your way towards the door. whoever it was had rung the doorbell twenty times in five seconds.

so probably gwen.

“i cannot believe this!” was the first thing she said as she welcomed herself into your house. no ‘hello’s or ‘how are you’s, “a car went right past me and almost stained my lab coat!”

“um... good morning to you too?” you chuckled, watching her get comfortable over your couch as she removed her shoes. she was clearly going through a rough week, “what’s wrong?”

you sat over the couch and her head immediately rested on your lap, “i can’t smell any more chemicals. my brain will explode.” she complained as you ran your hand through her hair.

“you were at the lab all night again?”

“slept on the couch” she sighed and relaxed further, feeling your fingers thread through her hair comfortingly.

“maybe you should slee-”

“coffee.” she mumbled, “i need some coffee.”

getting up from the couch, she made her way into the familiar kitchen, the white tiles reflecting enough light for her to wince and squint her eyes.

“are you sure you should have coffee right now?” you asked, leaning against the counter as she pulled out her favourite coffee mug from your cupboard.

“yes.”

soon the two of you settled back onto the couch, this time with your respective coffee mugs as you talked about her work. then gwen decided to shift the conversation to you, “so how’s swimming going?”

“it’s alright.” you tried to hold back your smile but gwen kept staring at you, making you break out laughing.

“and how’s your sexy trainer?” she took a sip from her coffee unbothered whereas you almost choked on yours, coughing slightly, “come on, you can tell me.” she pushed a little.

“he’s alright.” you replied, trying to sound disinterested but who were you fooling. gwen knew you better than that.

“so, when are you asking him out?” once again you almost spat your coffee out, deciding to place the coffee mug on the coaster at your coffee table for good.

“okay, you need to stop. we’re just friends. he’s supposed to be my trainer, that’s all.” you rambled out and gwen gave you a look that told you to cut through all the bullshit, “and i like him.” you whined, falling against the armrest of your couch.

“ask. him. out.” your best friend said, emphasizing on each of her word.

“he doesn’t even-”

“how do you know! have you ever tried… oh, i don’t know, asking him out?”

you rolled your eyes at her stubbornness. it was a trait you simultaneously loved and hated about her, “i’m not doing that.”

“ask him out.”

“what if he has a girlf-”

“ask him out and he’ll tell you.”

“but what if he doesn’t want to-”

“ask him out!”

“gosh! gwen i can’t.” you shook your head, mostly to yourself.

“(y/n). come on. ask him out before someone else does.” gwen said, a soft look etched over her features despite being deeply sleep-deprived, “have faith in yourself.” she smiled

“i-i’ll see…” you gave her a smile back, feeling an ounce of confidence, “maybe i will ask him out.”

“now that’s my girl!” gwen grinned and threw her arms around you.

you spent your sunday taking gwen out to dinner and then shopping because she deserved the break and you knew the second monday’s first minute illuminated on the digital clock beside her bed, she would start worrying about working her ass off on her new project.

and you were right as she called you just as you were about to leave your house for your swimming class, complaining about the horrible coffee in the lab, “i would have picked up some on my way here but it was too early.” she groaned.

“maybe i can bring some over after swimming today?” you offered, locking the door to your apartment and throwing the keys into your bag.

“unless you’re too busy with your peter guy?” gwen snorted at the groan you let out at her comment, “you’re asking him out today.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah.” you dismissed and quickly added, “and i’m never too busy for you, you know that.”

“i know.” she said, making you smile. the two of you bid each other a goodbye once she had to get back to work.

you found peter sitting in the same spot you had waited for him that day as soon as you reached the pool. you quickly changed and walked back out, noticing that he was still busy scrolling through his phone. walking up to him, you tried to not look into his phone as he texted someone, “watcha doing?”

he jumped at your question, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes, “oh. you scared the crap out of me.” he chuckled, registering that you had asked him a question, “i was just texting my aunt… about groceries and stuff.”

“oh.” you said, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape.

“so, you ready?” he asked and you nodded.

You climbed down the stairs of the pool ladder until your feet touched the tiled floor. Peter jumped in after you.

“i think it’s time we started kicking.” was the first thing he said, “i’ll show you how it’s done then you can do it too.” you nodded and watched as he dived inside, kicking the water with his legs as he slowly moved forward, leaving behind small splashes in his wake.

swimming back towards you quickly, he wiped back his hair from his forehead and you somehow forced yourself to not lend him a hand, “your turn!”

you gave him a smile, breaking out of your chain of thoughts, “okay then.” taking a deep breath you got ready to go underwater but peter’s hand wrapping around your wrist stopped you. you looked at him this time with slightly widened eyes, “uh…?”

“you’re not wearing your glasses.” he laughed and this time you were pretty sure that he seemed nervous as he held onto your wrist.

“oh.” you realised and pfft-ed at yourself, “silly me.”

he released your hand then but before you could do anything to adjust your goggles, his hands went up, fingers grabbing at the edge of the eyewear, gently propping it over your eyes carefully, “that okay?”

you weren’t quite sure if you’d noticed right but just before the glasses covered your eyes, a tint of pink covered his cheeks. or it could have been just your rose tinted goggles. damn uv protection.

“o-oh. yep.” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up. he smiled sweetly at you and you almost wanted to grab his pretty face right there and kiss over those upturned lips of his. but you couldn’t. not like this.

“you okay?” he asked, looking slightly concerned but you quickly nodded, not feeding into his worries.

“yeah.” you dived in then, keeping your hands straight as you kicked your legs up and down. you remembered his advice for keeping your head low and you applied that. almost thirty to forty seconds later, you resurfaced and took a deep breath, “was that alright?”

“yeah! that was good for a first try!” he gave you an encouraging smile, “just let your waist move freely.”

“how?” you asked, a little confused.

“is it okay if i place my hands on your waist?” the question made you cough even though you were several inches away from water. peter’s hands raised in defence, “i don’t need to-”

“no, it’s fine!” you blurted out, feeling on fire which even the water surrounding you couldn’t put out, “you can.”

“okay, just do what you were doing, i’ll guide you.” he said, seeming as nervous as you were feeling.

you did as told and this time peter’s hands placed themselves on either side of your waist as you started kicking. he helped you with the movement, moving your waist a little in tandem with your legs.

after the hour was finally up and you had changed into your regular clothes, you found peter talking to ned and contemplated going up to him for all of fifteen seconds before deciding to go up to him.

you waited until ned was gone and walked in his direction, “peter?”

he immediately looked in your direction, “oh, hey… you’re leaving?”

“yeah. well, i actually… i needed to talk to you about something.” your heart was going to jump out of your chest. you couldn’t even meet his eyes, your gaze fixed upon the dusky floor.

“what is it, (y/n)?” you could feel his curious eyes over yourself.

“well, i… it’s kinda…” you waved your hands around, trying to find the right words to say until he disrupted you mid-sentence.

“is it about that compliment i owe you?” he said, letting out a small laugh. he was probably trying to lighten the mood but this was not helping your situation, “well, i’d say you’re really-”

“i kinda like you-” you shut yourself up after that, looking up to see his reaction. his face changed from one of shock to a confused one.

“wait, you-”

“i thought i would keep a professional relationship with you. but i… you’re just really pretty and it’s unfair!” you complained, not holding back now. this was your last chance. you considered he might not want you around here anymore.

“how is it unfair, exactly?” you looked up at him to catch his raised eyebrows, however, a small smile played over his lips.

“well, for starters i wish you would go out with me. but that’s-”

“yes.”

“what?” you were sure you looked like a raccoon caught red-handed stealing food.

“i wanna go out with you. afterall i do owe you a compliment.” he smiled, making you smile too.

“i might owe a little girl an ice-cream.”

———

masterlist ✨

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker #mcu peter parker #tasm!#tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter fluff #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader

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the-froschamethyst4 · 9 months ago

Text

“I need to Recharge”

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Soap x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, married couple, language, children, kissing, jealous! Soap, sibling fighting, kind of a short one

𖤐Summary: Soap just wanted to come home to relax with his wife but he seems like he has to fight his wife's attention from his own flesh and blood

————

Soap was fumbling with his keys at the front door, he was so happy to finally be home. He felt like he's been stuck at since last night and this is the one time he finally gets to come home.

Soap opened the front door kicking his muddy boots at the front and placed his keys on the keyholder next to the front door.

Soap comes around the corner seeing his lovely wife Y/n moving around in the kitchen getting dinner ready, but she had some...shadows following her about.

Soap's oldest son Ryker and his daughter Kiara. Were following their mother around in the kitchen. Kiara showing off her barbie's hair and Ryker telling Kiara that Y/n was not interested in it at all.

"Mama, look her hair is smooth now."

"Really, let me see baby," Y/n turns her head still unaware that Soap had came into the house.

"Kiara, mama isn't interested in your toys!" Ryker says. Kiara stuck her tongue out and Ryker acted like he was going to punch her but Kiara got the best of him and smack his arm.

"Hey, now," Soap's voice booms. "No hitting, you're both 4 and 5, act grown up for once," Soap says.

"Babe, they're children, they're going to act like that."

"You two go play, leave your mother alone," he tries to shoo them away.

"No way," Kiara says.

"Why would we leave mama alone? And with someone like you?" Ryker says.

"Excuse me? I am your father."

"And?"

"Ryker," Y/n laughs at her son.

"Listen here brat, I was here first before you two even showed up. I get to be with my wife, you two just fell out of her womb one day."

"JOHNNY!!" Y/n smacks Soap on the arm. "Don't say that," she says.

"Well it's partly true," he pouts.

Ryker and Kiara then hug Y/n's legs as she washes the dirty dishes.

"Hey now, it's really hard to wash dishes when I'm being held in one place," Y/n giggles at her son and daughter.

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

7:30PM

For the rest of the night. Ryker or Kiara didn't let Soap get anywhere near Y/n. After dinner Y/n said she was going to take a shower and Soap was following behind but so where his children.

Kiara held Soap's shirt and Ryker grabbed Soap's ankle as Y/n closed the door to the master bedroom. Soap looks down at his kids, he pulls his shirt out of Kiara's grip and pulled his ankle out of Ryker's grip as well.

"What is both of your problem?" Soap asks.

"Leave our mama alone!" Ryker says, grabbing Kiara's hand and they rushed to Ryker's room like they were going to come up with a new plan.

Soap walks to the master bedroom door and felt it was locked. She always locked the door, it was her way of getting her own private time. He groans and heads back downstairs.

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

8:00PM

Y/n got out of her shower and was coming downstairs with Kiara in her arms and Ryker behind her, he sticks his tongue out at Soap when passing the living room.

"You little shit," Soap mumbles under his breath.

Y/n set Kiara on the kitchen counter giving Kiara her medicine before bed. Ryker got himself a glass of milk and chug it before bed. Soap rolls his eyes and focused back on the TV.

"Come on," Y/n picked up Kiara and takes her to bed, Ryker following behind and did the motion of his pointer finger and middle at his eye then back at Soap as a warning.

Soap just scoffs at his son and rolls his eyes.

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

"Alright Kiara, all tucked in, are you cozy?" Y/n asks.

"Yes."

"Okay," Y/n bends down and kisses the top of her heads. "Good night, don't let the bedbugs bite, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, mama. Night Ry. Night daddy." Soap stood in the doorway behind Y/n and Ryker. Ryker jumps and gets in between Y/n and Soap. Soap just smirks and picks Ryker up and takes him down the hall to his bedroom. All was heard down the hall was Ryker's high pitched screams.

Kiara giggles at her brothers, Y/n blows kisses at Kiara and turned her lamp off by the door and she shuts the door but leaves it cracked like always.

Y/n walks down the hallway seeing Ryker getting "thrown" not really most likely tossed softly on his bed, once he landed he bounces and laughs his little heart out.

"You leave your mummy and I alone," Soap says, tickling his sides.

"S-Stop! S-Stop!" Ryker yells through his laughing.

"Johnny," Y/n coos at her husband.

"Alright, alright," he starts tucking in Ryker. "Good night, you little shit." He says and Ryker just laughs.

"DON'T SLEEP WITH MAMA!!" He yells once the door was shut. Soap just chuckles and starts running behind Y/n and picks her up, she giggles as Soap takes her to the bedroom.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #soap x y/n #soap x you #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mw3 #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish

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genshin-side-piece · 1 year ago

Text

Keyholder Part 2

A/n: I know people asked to be tagged, but I'm not comfortable tagging folks in this kind of content. I hope that's okay.

Warnings: NSFW, implied fem reader, sexual themes, no actual intercourse, fem chastity, fem denial, top/bottom dynamic, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

The next evening, under the cover of darkness you once again found yourself within the walls of the Dawn Winery. The message he had sent you earlier in the day had been a simple one. I need to speak with you, come by tonight. To say that your anxiety shot through the roof is an understatement. You had barely slept the night before and spent most of today in a small panic as you waited for the proverbial shoe to drop. He had been too curious for him to not go beyond your conversation. Your lies wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him, you knew that. Still, no word had come. You had spent the better part of the day an anxiety riddled mess, only to be met with silence. Briefly, you thought you had escaped. Maybe he had bought it. Maybe your lies had been good enough. You had just about convinced yourself that maybe he hadn’t figured it out, when he contacted you. Your stomach had been in knots ever since.

Gods what if he had figured it out. Was he angry you hadn’t told him? Was he worried you had bitten off more than you could chew? Did he think you were a complete idiot for everything that had transpired between you? You nervously chewed on the inside of your lip as the dark countryside rolled by. What if he just handed your keys back and never spoke to you again? The mere shame of that made a cold chill race down your spine. How were you supposed to face him if that happened? How were you meant to explain your falling out with Diluc to anyone that asked? Were you just expected to make up the truth or would he deepen your humiliation and tell all of Mondstadt about your folly? The possibilities of what could happen were making your head spin. Not the best feeling when you were on the winding road that led to the house. By the time you reached his door, you felt positively nauseous. You’d had half a mind to just leave, but Diluc meeting you under the portico stopped you cold in your tracks.

“Good evening.” Diluc offered a warm smile as he invited you in, gesturing you follow him past the public areas of the winery and into what appeared to be a private sitting room. There was no idle chit chat as you went. Just silence as he led and you followed. An appropriate precursor for what was to come. It was only when you were both in the room and the door was firmly closed that he addressed you again. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.” Diluc did his best to keep his tone neutral, but he couldn’t help the slight lilt that rested just beneath the surface. You stood there, eyes wide and shoulders stooped as you squirmed in place.That sight almost made it too hard for him to not enjoy what was about to happen.

He watched you as tentatively move further into the room, your eyes scanning over the unfamiliar space. You were like a nervous little rabbit, obliviously stepping right into his trap. He couldn’t wait to gobble you up. The things he could do, the things he wanted to do to you. They had followed him into his dreams last night and well into today. He’d had to pace himself, lest he bait his trap too early. He wasn’t supposed to know. He didn’t want to give the game away too early. If he did, there was a concern you would bolt. Diluc had to remind himself to be patient. He almost had you, it wouldn’t be long now. “No problem.” You forced a smile, obviously doing your best to seem casual, despite the concern that was etched across your face. You were practically sweating. “Is uh- is everything alright?” You stopped just shy of the armchair he was leaning on gazing up at him in trepidation. “Forgive me, but it seems odd to be called out here this late at night.” Especially considering that up until yesterday, you and he had been casual acquaintances at best. You often exchanged hellos, goodbyes, and perhaps an odd conversation about the weather or another benign topic that required little to no effort on either of your parts. Neither you nor he had the energy to go much further than that. It was by sheer dumb luck that Diluc had managed to get to know you better. There had been a mix up at Good Hunter. Your food had gotten switched, with Diluc receiving your order and vice versa. In a rare gesture, Diluc had decided to dine with you as a way of getting to know you. In truth, he liked you or at least he liked the look of you. Without speaking to you, it was hard for him to know if his fondness for you was only surface deep. With that in mind, he had made it his mission to learn more about you, but like him, you were a bit of a closed book. That’s why your request for the now infamous meeting had given him hope. It was a rare opportunity to not only catch you alone, but to have you in his own space as well. The perfect chance for one of you to make a move. “You have my apologies for that.” Diluc walked around the arm chair, taking a seat in front of you. He settled himself, drawing out the moment slightly before he continued. “There’s just something that’s been troubling me and I have to get to the bottom of it.” You raised a curious eyebrow at him, trying to hide your nervous reaction from him. He watched as you began to get more anxious with every second that passed. Your fingers twitched against your sides while you nervously licked your lips. “I realized I don’t have your cell, only your email. I find that troubling, considering what you’ve left in my possession.” Diluc’s eyes purposefully dropped to your waist, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Your whole world spun as your worst fear washed over you. Had had figured it out. He knew.

“Diluc - ” He could see small beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead. You took a step back, your body shrinking into itself. You knew you had been caught. He imagined the excuses and the apologies that you were lining up in an attempt to excuse your hidden motives. He wasn’t interested in any of them, not when toying with you like this more than made up for your faux pas. He found it a pleasant overture to the punishment he intended to give you later. “The challenge.” He waved his hand slightly. “What was it you called it?” He thoughtfully tapped his chin. “The denial challenge?” He cocked his head to one side watching cringe slightly. “You know I had to look, don’t you?” Stupidly, you did. It was a fantasy to think he wouldn’t. Especially since you had handed it to him on a silver platter. “I-” Your eyes fell to the floor, a shaky breath slipping past your lips. Fuck. “I’m not mad. If that’s what you’re worried about.” Your eyes quickly met his again. “I was more shocked than anything. I wouldn’t peg someone like you as being into something like that.” A wolfish grin found it’s way across his lips as you swallowed the lump that had found its way into your throat. “It does make me curious about some of your other hobbies though,” His crimson eyes rolled over your body, taking you in and perhaps deciding what they wanted to see versus what was in front of them. “Is it just the denial or are you into other activities as well?” You squirmed under his gaze, quickly feeling the pulse between your legs spring to life. Up until now, you had all but forgotten it. Now it was back with a vengeance, clouding your thoughts and nearly rendering you speechless.

“I-“ You swallowed again, shivering under his gaze. Focus. You had to focus. He didn’t need to know how deep your perversions ran. You tried to tell yourself it was none of his business, but at this stage it was a lie. He knew about the belt. It wasn’t a stretch that he had made inferences based on that. All he wanted was confirmation on whether he was right or wrong. A thing you weren’t necessarily prepare to give. “I’m not into anything-“ You turned away, shivering as you tried to phrase it. How could you quantify it? The words honestly escaped you. You could only look back at him, seeing that his grin had grown larger.

“Perhaps your mind is a bit- preoccupied. We’ll save that question for later, hm?” You dumbly nodded, feeling slightly relieved he had dropped it. “In the meantime, we need to discuss your punishment.” Your eyes went about as wide as saucers at the mere mention of the word. Punishment? He had brought you here to punish you? Celestia above, what was he planning to do? “You’ve been very bad. Did you think you could hide something like that from me and get away with it?” He chuckled. “I think not. We’ll start with you lifting your skirt. I want to see what is rightfully mine.” You visibly shivered again, your body reacting on its own. Goosebumps rose all over your flesh as a wave of excitement shot directly to your already needy c*nt. The throbbing was to a point where you almost couldn’t handle it. All you wanted at this point was to touch yourself or better still, for Diluc to touch you. Your eyes briefly dropped to his hands, the need to feel them on you growing stronger with every second that passed. You could imagine his finger pressing into your folds, stroking every inch of the soft flesh within. If you focused long enough you could envision his strong fingers finding your center and-

In the back of your mind, deep behind the sex filled haze that was clouding your senses, you knew you shouldn’t go much further than you had. While Diluc was amiable enough, you weren’t sure if this was what you wanted. Play or rather playing with someone had never entered your mind. The action of denying yourself was generally enough. You had only involved Diluc as your unknowing keyholder to add to the thrill of it all. Now everything had changed and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Out of all the reactions you thought he would have, asking to see his prize wasn’t one of them. It was difficult to rationalize in your present state of mind. “You don’t have to-” Another lump formed in your throat, your eyes finding his once again. “I’ll never force you.” Like his eyes, the predatory demeanor that had overtaken him, softened into something you were more familiar with. The rough edge slipped out of his voice and the gentle tone he normally carried returned. “I honestly just wanted to have a bit of fun at your expense.” There was another small chuckle that followed that. “I think I’m allowed to do that, all things considered.” You didn’t argue. You couldn’t, at least not really. “Just so you’re aware, you could have just told me. I would have happily held onto them for you.” “No-” Some of your courage returned, along with the shame. “It’s so embarrassing. I- I didn’t want you to think less of me.” He raised an eyebrow at you. “So trying to trick me and getting caught is better?” It would have been, had you not gotten caught. You had planned on his indifference or at the very least his disregard. His abnormal curiosity in the ordinary had led you here.

“I-“ You let out a heavy sigh, trying to regain some of your wits so that you might explain your reasoning, but in truth you had neither wits nor a solid excuse to stand on. You had purposefully kept him in the dark. You had knowingly involved him in something private. Regardless of how you felt on the subject, you were in the wrong. It was best to accept the punishment he had promised and move on. If the worst you earned was some light teasing and a scolding, then you could live with that. “I’m sorry, Diluc. I shouldn’t have hidden it from you.” He only grunted in response, confusing you as to whether he accepted your apology or not. You dumbly watched as he reached into his waistcoat pocket, pulling out a familiar set of keys. Your brows furrowed when he dangled them in front of you, allowing you to get a good look at the improvements he had made to them.

Diluc or someone who worked for him had removed the keys from the cheap ring they had been on and had opted to have them strung onto a delicate silver chain. To you it was an odd choice. He couldn’t be planning to give them back to you if he had gone to the trouble and the expense of the chain. But, you didn’t understand the point of the chain. Did he plan on wearing them or was the chain merely a means of tormenting you a little more?

“I have a counter offer for you.” His voice snapped you back to reality. “One that you may find slightly more fun than suffering at home alone.” His eyes met yours again as his thumb pressed the chain further into the tips of his fingers. “Clearly, I was never meant to know about this-” He gestured at your covered middle again. “If I’m being honest, I had no right to check. It was only after our meeting yesterday that I grew concerned.” He furrowed his brow, his tone turning slightly serious. “You were so out of sorts. I was worried something had happened or worse, you had done something you couldn’t get out of.” There was an irony in that last reason. One that neither of you missed. Diluc’s worried look gave way to a smirk before he continued. “I’m happy to give these-” He gently shook the keys, allowing them to sway and move with the force of his hand after he had finished. “Back to you and pretend this entire affair never happened.” That was easier said than done. It wasn’t like you would just be able to take your keys and forget the humiliation you’d caused yourself thanks to your folly. You were figuring you would have to move beyond Snezhnaya at this rate. “My only request for either option is if you attempt to do this again that you trust me enough to tell me. What you’re doing isn’t dangerous, but it can be a lot to carry on your own. It will make things easier on you if you have someone there to support you.” Briefly you smiled, appreciating both his concern and his advice. Having him as a fall back would be kind of nice. “What’s-” You cleared the rust that had formed from your throat. “What’s the other option?” He smirked, resting the chain with your keys on his knee. When he had finished, Diluc sat in silence for a moment or two, regarding you before he spoke to you again. “May I?” He vaguely gestured at your middle, indicating he wanted to touch you.

Without realizing it you drew in a sharp breath, holding for a moment or two before you released it. Again, you shouldn’t, but god you needed something. The pulsing between your legs was becoming overwhelming. Even with the shield between you, all you could think was that his fingers pressing against you would feel like heaven. You were almost ready to beg him for even the slightest form of contact before his offer. Now that it lingered between you, heavily hanging in the air like a waft of smoke, all you could think was reservations be damned. If this ended with him removing your belt and sending you on your way, then you ought to get something for it.

A soft little moan that barely passed as a please made it past your lips. A plea from you to him to follow through on what he was prepared to do. Rather whorishly, you opened your legs up further for him, your fingers wrapping in the fabric of your skirt so you could lift it just far enough so he would have easy access to what he wanted, but not be able to see. Diluc didn’t hesitate at your invitation. He briefly brushed his fingers over the inside of your thigh, the leather of his gloves biting at your skin, causing you to shiver. He pressed on, his digits softly moving up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, wasting very little time in seeking out what he actually wanted. His fingers quickly found the metal shield, easily pressing it up into your pussy just so. Gods it felt like heaven. You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed as he toyed with your sex through the supposed safety of the belt. You were so embarrassingly wet, so shamefully needy. You had to wonder if he could feel it through his leather gloves. “Or” He ground his fingers against the shield, hitting just the right spot. You moaned again, this time loud enough that you swore the whole house had heard you. “We take this a little more seriously.” You couldn’t stop the second, slightly smaller moan that slipped past your lips. On its own, your body pushed back against his hand, grinding against it in the hope of getting some desperately needed friction. “Because that’s why you asked to give me the keys in the first place, isn’t it? You fantasize about being controlled, don’t you?” Your eyes flew open at the accusation.

“Diluc”

“Sir.” Your eyes went wider. “For the next month at least, it’s sir.” You swallowed nodding. “I’ll repeat my question; You fantasize about being controlled, yes?” All too quickly, the fog began to take over your mind again. The same one that left you whimpering and whining after you had fucked yourself to a few good orgasms. The idea of being controlled, the notion of Diluc exerting his dominance over you. Your whole body vibrated at the thought. “Yes sir.” Again, like the other day, your tone landed between needy and frustrated. You mewled the phrase at him in the idiotic hope that he might do more.

“Then listen, carefully.” You nodded. “For the next month, you, not just this-“ He gently squeezed your c*nt. “You, belong to me. Understand?”

“Yes-“ You released a stuttering breath, whispering the word sir. God it was pathetic how quickly you had fallen under his spell, but the proposition of control was intoxicating. You wouldn’t have to fantasize about Diluc’s oh so firm hands pleasuring you when he was happy to place one between your legs.

“Good” He pulled his hand away from your gyrating pelvis, snapping the spell he had placed over you. Briefly, you saw the dim light of the room reflecting off the juices you had left on his glove. All at once you were all too aware of how exposed you were and how shamelessly you were acting.

“Sir-“ Your cheeks felt like they were a million degrees. The one thing you hadn’t wanted was to get caught. You had sworn you would crawl in a hole if you did, just from the embarrassment of it. That humiliation of that paled in comparison to humping his hand like a wanton whore and soiling his glove with your arousal. He shushed you, not allowing you to continue.

“I see why you locked yourself away. You’re quite the licentious thing, aren’t you.” He held up the hand with the soiled glove as proof. “Tsk Tsk.” He shook his head as you looked away in utter embarrassment. “I should leave you like that. A sinful thing like you deserves to be locked up, if nothing else then for the safety of the community. Think of what would have happened if you had been seen in this state.” He lightly laughed. “I can just imagine the knights finding you like this, all wet and needy and ready to be taken like the sl*t you are.” Your knees nearly buckled. Dear god. Your body felt like it was on fire. All you could was shake and drip as he ran you down. It was almost enough to make you cum untouched, almost. “Thank goodness I found you first. I get to have you all to myself.” You could hear the desire in his voice, even If you couldn’t see it in his face. “If you play this game with me and do all that I ask, then at the end of month I will let you out of your prison and personally give you the pleasure that I’m sure you’ll be craving.” You swallowed, your whole body vibrating at the thought of that. “As-” Your courage failed you for a moment. “As much as I want?” “As much as you can take, for as long as you can take it.” You mewled, your thighs shaking at the thought. Thirty days of being his, of being subjected to his whims and he would fuck you to your heart’s content. Despite your lingering concern, that was a worthwhile reward in your book. “What if-” You shook at the thought. “What if it’s too much? What if I can’t take it? I’ve never-” You had never gone this far on your own, nevermind involve another person. The sensation that you were handing yourself over to him and his discretion was thrilling, but also terrifying. You didn’t know your limits and worse still, you couldn’t articulate them to him. What would happen if you reached them too quickly? Would he be mean and force you to keep your word or would he let you out? “Will you still hold me to it?” He tilted his head slightly giving you an unreadable look. “As I said, I’ll never force you. I may push you at times for our mutual enjoyment, but I will never force you. If at any point the arrangement becomes too much for you to bear, then you are free to stop it. We’ll decide on a special word for you to use when it all becomes too much or if you don’t like where we’re headed. All you need to do is use it and we’ll stop to assess everything.” You nodded, feeling the fluttering sensation in your stomach ease.

What happened next was for lack of a better term, a blur. To your utter confusion, he took your keys off his knee, slipping them and his hands back up under your skirt. You felt him feeling around the center of the waist portion of your belt, searching for the cause of all of this bother. “Then if we are in agreement, we can proceed.” You mumbled out a yes, watching in utter confusion as he removed your lock from the belt. It and the keys found their way to his knee, while his other hand held the belt firmly in place.

“There is just one more thing.” You gave him a generally confused look when he reached into his other waistcoat pocket, pulling something you couldn’t see out. “I’m rather funny about security. I have a thing about outside locks or third party devices. We use custom ones here at the winery and at the tavern.” From behind his fingers, he produced a second lock. This one was heavier and more obvious than the one you had provided. All you could do was stare at it with trepidation as he moved it closer to you. “Considering you have already deceived me once, it would make things easier for me if I knew that you were properly locked away.” You felt him wrap the lock around the connector, settling it in place. “One last chance to get away.” He paused, his eyes holding yours just long enough for you to fully descend into the depravity he was offering. You stiffly nodded, your whole body shivering when he pressed the lock shut without a moment's hesitation. “Get on your knees.” He didn’t allow you the luxury of worrying about it further. You obeyed, fast enough that you earned his praise. “This-” He lifted the chain with your old keys off his knee again, easily bringing it around your neck so he could clip it into place. “Is your punishment.” Diluc pulled back, settling the cold metal into the hollow of your throat. “Good toys know their place. They don’t lie. They don’t hide things. From now on, you’ll wear these as a reminder of that. Everytime you look at them, I want you to remember why you have to wear them, understand?” You did. Even if you generally hated the idea, you did. “I did apologize.” He chuckled, running the back of his finger over your cheek. “I am appreciative, but in this case an apology isn’t enough. When I feel you’re repentant enough, I’ll let you take them off. In the meantime though, they only come off to shower and sleep. The rest of the time I expect to see them.” For some idiotic reason, you imagined Diluc pinned to the ledge outside your window, watching your every move. Considering his size it was almost laughable.

Behind him, a small clock chimed the hour. It was late, too late to get a cab or ask him to take you home. Just as you began to weigh your options as to what you could do, he spoke again, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I’ve had the maids make up the guest room. You can sleep in there tonight. I’ll take you home after breakfast.” He brought his hand up under your jaw, his thumb tracing over your lips as he thought something over. “Before I do-” He slipped the same thumb that had been on your lips, past them. “If you aren’t too exhausted from the emotional acrobatics you've gone through today, I’d like to enjoy my new toy a little.” He pressed his thumb against the tip of your tongue, holding it in place. “You’ve worked me up into quite the frenzy these last two days. I’ve often thought about how you would look lovely with my c*ck in your mouth. What do you say we find out?”

#genshin impact #genshin #diluc genshin #diluc genshin impact #diluc #diluc smut #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnivindr x you

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atzlvr3000 · 2 years ago

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“ The Day We Met ”

chapter three pt.1

this chapter will be split into two, story for the delay! some things came up!

story tags/warnings : ot8/reader, male reader, polymerous pack, possessive hints, mature series, bdsm, strangers to lovers/mates, fantasy, courting, fluff, angst, mc is just a sweetie pie, male omega reader, alpha!seonghwa, pack alpha!yunho, alpha!mingi, beta!hongjoong, beta!yeosang, omega!wooyoung, alpha!san, alpha!jongho, mean wooyoung, wooyoung hates reader?, reader is the same height as woozi from svt, 18+ only no minors

chapter tags : semi smut(?) , collaring, fluff, omega/omega

length : short :(

a/n note : (heart divider by @cafekitsune)

(previous chapter) Walking into the packs nesting room Yunho grabbed a small jewelry box, glancing at the black velvet collar inside. The elegant looking collar had the groups name branded on the front followed by white lace, a small sliver bell in the front, and a keyhold in the back. Everyone’s gaze followed yunho’s figure as he sat down infront of the omega being held by an overly excited beta. Shaking his head he held in a laugh, possessive already he noted.

Meanwhile y/n tried controlling his heartbeat while his doe eyes stared at the jewelry box in question. Was he going to give him a bracelet of some sort, why was everyone suddenly so quiet? Hearing a light click signaling the box had been opened y/n froze in his spot, a collar. Oh..OH everything suddenly settling into place, no wonder they were being so serious. Grabbing the small key he glanced around him at the others. They wanted to collar him this meaning he would be theirs not only in sexual tense but in general. He would belong to them and only them. Letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding he finally met the pack alphas eyes, “you…if this is a joke its not funny” his voice wavering. He didn’t know what his inner omega would do if they were playing some sick joke on him. If he was being honest he would most likely have a drop and that would be horrible not to mention it being the first day.

Suddenly the room was filled with the scent of rich peppermint as yunho’s eyes gazed over y/n’s current state, motioning the omega to come closer to him. Before the omega could even begin to spiral into overthinking yunho spoke up his voice a bit deeper than normal as he carefully took the collar into his hands, “i’ll assure you this is far from being some sick joke,” seven heads nodding in agreement. Crawling over with the help of hongjoong who was whispering quiet words of reassurance, y/n sat on his knees infront of the large male nibbling his bottom lip in anticipation.

Gazing into y/n’s doe eyes once more be began to speak, “With this collar i am asking you to commit yourself to us and make the pack one of the highest priorities in your life, but your mental health must always come first. Do you accept these terms?”

“Yes, i accept”

“In return, as pack alpha, i am promising myself to you, making you one of the highest priorities in our life. Today i offer you this collar with it our love and protection. Do you accept?” Everyone’s eyes glued two y/n as they silently held their breath, everything going quiet even the light whispering seemed to stop. They weren’t the only pack who did this yet they were still nervous about the omegas reaction. Wooyoung watched the omegas every move from the way his hands shook nervously to the way his scent suddenly sweetened.

Clutching the victorian-styled key y/n gently placed it in the alphas hands, “I accept, in return i offer you the key with it my loyalty and submission.” Pushing his hair from in-front of his eyes y/n gripped onto the hem of ‘his’ hoodie as excitement ran through his veins, the smell of chocolate cake slowly making its way through the living room. This was happening, one of his many dreams had just come to life. He could even hear his own heart beating in his ears. He waited impatiently for yunho to place the collar around his neck, to initiate this was indeed real. Quickly turning around, y/n scooted back even closer to the alpha reaching out to hold hongjoong’s hand for support.

Carefully placing the soft yet durable fabric around his neck yunho clicked the collar into place, turning gently on the key to lock it. Trailing one hand around y/n’s neck he slipped a finger under the collar giving it a light tug, perfect. On cue the rest of the pack let out sighs of relief before crowding around the two. Pulling the omega into his lap he gripped y/n hips tightly listening as loud purrs erupted from y/n’s chest. “Good omega, you’ll be a good boy for us won’t you” he mouthed against y/n’s neck watching as their eyes glossed over. One by one the pack came closer sitting infront of the pair the they began pampering the docile omega, scenting every inch of his body until he was left a whimpering mess.

“please alpha..pl-” y/n pleaded as his hips twitched slick leaking into his underwear. Yunho lightly shushed him messaging his thumbs into y/n’s hips holding them down. The pack knew this would happen, their own omega wooyoung had told them how if he accepted he’d most likely fall into subspace almost instantly. Placing a soft kiss against y/n’s temple the alpha calmly spoke again, “Wooyoung how about u and sangie take y/n to have a bath, it’s getting pretty late. Im sure he is gonna want to be close to the pack omega right now, we’ll continue the rest tomorrow.” Carefully picking up the small omega yeosang carried him to the shared bathroom next to y/n’s assigned room. Attempting to set the omega down on the counter only to be met with a teary eyed y/n grap onto his arm with a strong grip, “no please beta dont go!”

Yeosang could almost hear his heart break at the males tone. “Shh shh don’t worry baby im not going anywhere” caressing his cheek yeosang stood between his legs placing butterfly kisses on his cheeks. The beta didn’t need y/n to get distressed during such a fragile state. That would end badly for everyone. “Come on pup lets get these off yeah? Then you can have a nice hot bath with wooyoungie, dont you wanna show him how good you are?” he said endearingly.

Frantically nodding his head, Y/n quickly slipped off his hoodie and the rest of his clothes with the betas help before attaching himself right back to the beta.

Starting the bubble bath wooyoung bit on his bottom lip deep in thought. He was conflicted. He knew he smelt the scent of someone else on the other omega but he couldn’t tell now that y/n was covered head to toe in the packs scent. Choosing to brush it off he stripped himself free from his clothes. Maybe san was right, he was just thinking of it too much for now he needed to focus. Walking over to the pair he gently convinced y/n to let go of yeosang which to his surprise didn’t take much. Finally settling down into the hot bath water he held the smaller male in his lap, “such a pretty omega” wooyoung purred out licking across his scent glands.

Preening under his praise, y/n felt a shiver go down his spine, a gush of slick beginning to mix with the bathwater. “Please ‘mega..inside” he begged while turning around to face the other, hair sticking to his forehead. “I’ll be good promise” straddling wooyoungs lap y/n rubbed his small cock against the others. He was desperate for all of the older omega’s attention.

Forcefully pulling y/n against himself with his left hand, wooyoung caressed his cheek placing a passionate kiss on his lips. He almost felt sorry for teasing the omega and shaking his head no. Watching as tears built up in his big brown doe eyes, he kissed his forehead rubbing his back in circles. Oh how he loved when they cried. Easily sliding two of his fingers into y/n he pumped in and out at an erratic pace frustrating the whiny male in his arms. “Let me see those pretty eyes. You have to be quiet or else i won’t let you cum” Wooyoung mocked him with a fake pout.

Holding onto his shoulders y/n sniffled as he fucked himself on wooyoungs fingers. Trying his best to maintain eye contact with the older omega he panted desperately chasing his orgasm, tears trailing down his face. Lewd moans echoing throughout the bathroom, “Don’t stop please, please ‘mega im gonna come-”

Covering y/n’s mouth harshly he tsk-ed, removing his fingers to sink him down on his cock. “You’re so fucking loud” he gritted out while fucking y/n through his high only stopping once the felt the omega go plaint against his chest. As punishment he didn’t bother cumming inside ignoring his own release completely.

After washing for 20 more minutes in the tub wooyoung gently dried off the dazed omega along with himself, “You did so well pup, such a good omega all nice and clean. Lets get you dressed.” Walking back into the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes consisting of undergarments and one of the alpha’s shirts, yeosang helped dress y/n giving wooyoung a knowing look. Shaking his head he picked up a half asleep y/n placing a soft kiss to his temple.

Going into y/n’s room he gently sat the omega down on the bed watching as he managed to still make a nest in the middle of the bed. So his instincts come out more when he’s in subspace.The nest consisted of felix’s clothes, his own, and the pack alphas hoodie. Once he finished y/n walked over to the beta, his speech simplyfied “beta come sleep with ‘mega.” Dragging the smiley beta into his nest he scented him throughly before dozing off.

Waking up early in the morning y/n glanced at the sleeping beta beside him with a small smile. Carefully getting out of his nest he did his morning routine. Walking into the kitchen he went to open the blinds in a nearby window letting some natural lighting in before he began preparing breakfast for the pack. Their manager had messaged him the packs schedule for the week as he was brushing his teeth. Today jongho, san, yunho, and hongjoong had dance practice while the others were free to stay home and rest. Setting the table y/n hummed to himself making sure everyone had a plate with eating utensils. He wondered what his best friend was doing but chose to let him sleep in more before bothering him by blowing up his phone with messages.

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armpirate · 2 years ago

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Soundleasure || San

pairing: Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.8k

Aprox. time of reading: 21 minutes

Warnings: Smut, online sex, male masturbation, female masturbation, teasing, dirty talk, mention of porn. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: Ready to give up on blind dates and dating apps, you were drawned back to the safe place that was his porn channel. Attracted by a voice and his storytelling, and completely clouded by the amount of emotions, you found yourself sending him a private message. He wouldn't read it, and even less answer it, anyway. Or so you thought.

MASTERLIST

You dropped your keys over the dark green sideboard, placed at the left of the entrance to your place, instead of hanging them on the golden hooks that you bothered to hang to avoid dropping your keys over the first place you found. After losing them almost three times -or, atleast, having the illusion that you lost them because it took you almost an hour to find them in the last corner you'd expect in your place-, you thought it'd be a good idea to place a keyholder so you'd be able to hang the keys in a place proper for them.

Today just wasn't the day to use it. You just wanted to disappear somewhere in between your beed and your blankets, and totally erase what happened that day.

Maybe you had been looking forward to that date a little bit too much. Having high expectations of someone you met on a dating app was a bad start, and could only mean that you wouldn't be ready to have those same expectations dashing against the ground at the minimum inconvenience.

Was it minimum though? You always tried to think that maybe you were a bit too demanding when it came to hookups and relationships, always blaming your previous thoughts and ideas instead of accepting the fact that men, in general, were meant to disappoint you no matter what. You'd see it every day on the different dating apps you had installed, thinking that it'd be easier to find someone than just getting out there and hoping Love to find you. Although, lately you weren't even about love. You were ready to settle for a simple dude that'd get his work done with you, and wait for things to go further as a hopeful thought.

That was definitely too much to ask for.

You met Jordan when you were close to deleting your profile. It was the ninetieth dating app you were going to give up on, until you found a cute tanned guy with green eyes that seemed acceptable when he reached out to you after you matched. The conversation was so fluid after two days, that you didn't hesitate to arrange something with him for the weekend.

It was all nice and comfortable until he started to talk about his past relationships. "I don't usually do dating apps", "I'm not a player", "My ex's were all crazy", and a long etcetera that only had you nodding, while you tried your best to concentrate on your food. If you had learned something over your twenty five years was that those who deny something they aren't even asked about, are exactly the image they try to distance themselves from.

You kept undressing yourself as you made your way to your bed, dropping the wrinkled fabric on it while you were only in your underwear. Only bothering to check your phone when the sound of a notification reached your ears while you put on some comfortable clothes.

Another dick pic.

You didn't know if it was the way this new guy thought a dick pic would turn you on -when you didn't even ask for it, and the conversation didn't go further than a "Hey"-, or the fact that it wasn't even that big of a thing to have you losing it and forgetting about the awful night you had.

It was a failed way to get in your pants. There was no way any girl would get turned on by those kinds of pics unprovoked. If at least it came from a person you actually liked, or were attracted to... But loverboy6577 didn't even give you time for that. And it wasn't like you were planning on giving him a chance after that.

Crawling on the bed, and pushing the dress off the mattress with your feet, you felt your body relaxing over the sheets while you looked at your phone. Another notification popped up on the upper bar, but that one made your heart twitch in your chest with excitement.

He usually never posted videos on Saturdays, but there he was. The thumbnail was completely dark when you clicked on it, and the video description explained how he thought about giving that little surprise to his followers. He spoke generally, but for some reason you felt like he was speaking directly at you. Maybe that night you just needed to believe that he was.

Reaching for your earpods, soon your brain could only focus on his masculine voice setting the mood, while the screen was completely dark.

"Are you okay? I bet today was a long day" you pressed your lips at how perfectly his video fitted with the mood you were in that night. "Let me make it up to you, okay? I promise I'll make it better".

You couldn't avoid giggling, while you cringed, as soon as those kissing sounds came up. It was the thing you least liked from his videos, but you still went through it all because it comforted you somehow. At least it helped you imagine the way his lips might look, slightly moist after he moved his tongue on them to be able to make those sounds loud and clear against the microphone.

"I got you, babe" he whispered again, following more kissing sounds. "Have I already told you how good your skin tastes?" he hummed after that, pretending to be taking off some clothes right after. "Let me undress you, I want to see how beautiful you look completely naked".

And soon those kissing sounds weren't on your lips anymore -at least not on your upper lips. Your core throbbed at the fast image of a pair of sexy eyes peeking over your mound, holding your body gently as he aimed you to your own orgasm.

"Mmm, I'm so addicted to your pussy" he groaned, still making licking sounds.

You didn't know when you slid your hand in your underwear and when you started rubbing your clit. You were only aware of how wet and ready you were when your back arched in a perfect curve after he made a spitting sound. He soon groaned, combining perfectly with your pants as you traced circles slowly.

"You're so tight, hmm" and as he said that, you slid two of your fingers filling you, making you bite your lip as your imagination ran wild. "'Feel so fucking good around my cock".

Your head was unconsciously nodding at his words, pounding your fingers in and out a bit faster as time went by. It was as if his moans were the only thing that set the pace you wanted to follow. The squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock, mixed with his whimperings and gasps made it too vivid for you, almost making you forget you were finger fucking yourself, and convinced there was someone leading the way to paradise, your paradise.

"Cum with me, baby" he sobbed, his voice cracking at the last word.

And it didn't take you too long until shiverings ran over your body, a silenced moan by your lips pressed together making it known you came to one of his videos again.

You found his channel while you scrolled down the porn site. Utterly done with the over staged videos, and the exaggerated moans and faces that made you want to tear your phone against the wall rather than touching yourself. Soon it became a usual thing, as if you were a fan. And, considering the way you behaved and felt at his every post, maybe you were.

It made no sense to you. He was faceless, there was nothing but his voice and the words he used. But it was enough to let your imagination run free, and it worked most of the nights, actually. His content was also quite dynamic, and it felt funny how it always fitted your mood completely, like tonight. Some other times, he would just pretend to be a bit rougher. Or maybe he settled a whole scene, and created a tiny porn scene in everyone's heads. But he always managed to make you feel that good.

Usually, he just seemed so out of reach. Soundleasure was a thing, you forgot he was even a person after cumming. He was just content you consumed, because you felt lonely and needy, and no real man would make you reach your high the way he did with his voice only. But it didn't seem like you thought like that that night.

After cleaning yourself up, and getting out of your bathroom, you thought deep about him. He was a real person. He made you understand your own body in a way that no one else has been able to. And if he was able to do that in the distance, maybe it'd be twice more intense if he ever directed all those words at you only.

Maybe it was your loneliness speaking, or the constant let down by every man you tried to meet casually. Clouded by your own feelings, you went further than just leaving a comment like the rest of women that consumed his content. Your finger scrolled up his page, opening his private messages to write the most cordial text you could think of.

And you forgot about it after sending it. It was too late to delete it. It was obvious he wouldn't answer back, he probably wouldn't even see it -considering the amount of women that probably tried the same thing.

That's why as time went by, you forgot about it.

You kept on with life, focusing on work and still going on dates randomly, keeping your mind focused on finding the man of your dreams. Although it was ridiculous from you to think that man would be in any of those apps.

Until one of those days, a buzz sneakily got your attention. Usually, you'd just check the text later -there was no hurry on reading what most dudes had to say. But that day, you felt curious about it.

Your eyebrows instantly frowned when you realized the notification didn't come from the dating app, but from the pornsite you'd secretly enjoy whenever there was an update. And it was, but not the one you were used to.

You felt lucky when your fingers felt weak, but not enough to drop your phone to the ground when you read his text.

Soundleasure: Hey! Sorry for the late reply. Hope you still think my voice is sexy.

You tried to avoid re-reading your own text after sending it, until you were forced to that night. Your face grimaced as soon as you were aware of how cheeky and desperate you seemed on the text you sent. Saying his voice was sexy? And nothing else? God, your mind was intoxicated by the bullshit you read on those dating apps.

You: Maybe... Or maybe you'll have to work a bit harder to get my attention again.

Soundleasure: Hmm. You answered tho, it seems like I have your attention.

You: Maybe I'm just being polite by replying back.

You: It'd be rude to just leave you on read.

Soundleasure: Oh, so you're considerate. That's nice to know.

Soundleasure: Better reason to work harder so I keep having your focus on me.

You bit your lip, lying on the couch while still holding your phone up high. It seemed too surrealistic to be real. You were talking with him, the man that put your standards on sex above the sky.

You: How are you planning on doing that?

Soundleasure: I don't know... You tell me.

You: I'm good at concentrating, so you probably won't have to do much.

Soundleasure: Hahah

Soundleasure: Ok

Soundleasure: What's your name?

You: Y/n

You: what about you?

You: i doubt soundleasure is your real name.

Soundleasure: haha San. That's my name.

Soundleasure: I'm kinda forced to ask you your age.

You: 25. I've been legal for quite a few years.

You didn't ask him his age, you didn't need to. You knew he was twenty four. It was displayed on the short description he had on his channel, along with the type of content he'd post in it.

It'd been almost a week. And while you thought the conversation would end after that night, the truth was that both San and you kept reaching out to each other, coming up with whatever that came to your heads to keep the conversation alive. You were even surprised when, after two days, he asked for your user on Telegram so you could find a more comfortable way to text -you were close, but not enough to be giving out your private phone number to a stranger.

If you thought San was only attractive in those videos, he proved you wrong by the way he acted so charming and close the more you talked. You always gave up the idea of sending him a text, convincing yourself that you'd lose interest as soon as he seemed approachable enough -or as soon as he felt comfortable enough to show his true colors. But you were so mistaken. It's like he threw a hook on you, and every time he pulled you in, you got more attached.

It was also the way you could go from cackling at the conversation, to being forced to press your thighs close together after he dropped a flirty message, or a suggestive pic as if it was nothing. You obviously played along, surprised by how easily he made that nature flow in you.

That Saturday, you had just sent one of your nsfw pics of your blurry naked figure reflected on the bathroom mirror full of steam. It was clear as day that you were naked after taking your shower, but it was impossible to clearly see what the mist was hiding.

San: Fucking hell, Y/n.......

You saw "Typing..." under his name several times, but it always ended up disappearing and he ended up disconnecting, before he came back a few more times. You giggled as a consequence, thinking that you got what you wanted with that snapshot: triggering San.

San: Omg

You: You liked it?

Your text reeked of fake innocence. He knew, you knew.

San: I hated it

Your heart skipped a beat, stopping completely when you saw that text before he suddenly left the app again. You both had been exchanging that type of pictures almost since you started talking to each other, along with a big amount of spicy texts -especially the days he uploaded content to his channel. It was the cherry on top of a great day for the two of you.

Wearing the bathrobe as the only clothing that covered your body, you sat in the middle of the bed, waiting for his text. You were doubting whether you should text first or not, but your phone buzzing in your palm gave you the answer you were looking for.

San: It's unfair I can't see that in person

His answer made you smile instantly, biting your lip while you thought of the next thing to say. He lived in Los Angeles, on the other side of the country, while you lived in Boston. You were more than four hours away.

You: Maybe we can do something better...

You: are you home?

San: Yeah

San: What did you think about?

You clearly didn't think it through, and you chose to act before you could even process your own idea. Every time you had the idea to do a video call, you'd turn it down with the fear of him not liking you -and, sometimes, not liking him. After talking for a week, you two had high expectations on each other -at least on your side it was like that. More than once you were scared of him being disappointed in the way you looked, and you were also terrified with the idea of ending up upset with him.

But that day it didn't seem to matter to you. You clicked on the video call option, and just waited for him to answer. You held your phone at the level of your face, checking your reflection out while you bit your lip nervously. All the excitement started disappearing when he didn't pick up the call, and you started thinking that maybe you got ahead of yourself.

Suddenly, everything was silent and you got surprised by his face on the screen.

You couldn't believe you were ever scared of not liking him. Not only did he had an attractive voice, and a charming personality, his face also seemed sculpted by the gods. His foxy eyes had a gentle look on them as he stared back at you through the screen, and his dimples made his sharp features look innocent and soft as he smiled.

"So I see you weren't lying on taking a shower" he commented, making one of his eyebrows disappear behind his bangs.

"You thought I was baiting you?" his deep chuckle sent shiverings all over your body, before you chose to keep talking. "It'd have been perfect timing for you to send a picture, too" you pointed out.

You were able to point out that he also took a shower, by the way that the end of his bangs that fell on his forehead -and slightly over his eyes- looked a bit wet still.

"You got ahead of me" he played with his hair, acknowledging your good eye sight with a wide smile. His smile slowly dropped to a smirk, as his eyes concentrated on you for a brief second "You're beautiful".

Taking the compliment the best way you could, you simply smiled and lowered your face enough the moment you felt your cheeks lighting up.

"Don't cover up. That's cute" he giggled.

But you couldn't help it. All the times through messages, you two kept acting confidently, being the sexiest of your versions. But there you were, blushing over the word "beautiful" and the way his eyes shined as he said it.

You clearly weren't used to that type of treatment.

"You also look good" you assured him.

"Better than expected?"

Far better than expected.

While you still were surprised by his good physique, you didn't see his face in either of the pics he sent. Like you, he always ended up covering it with the shape of his phone on the several mirror selfies he took, or he straight up cut off his face. So now that you were seeing him, and confirming he was the perfect combo, your head was struggling to admit San was real and not a person you created out of desperation.

"Maybe" you answered teasingly.

"I already had high expectations on you, but you made sure to break them all off" his mouth was trying to transmit that with appeal, yet his smile and the way he nervously pressed his lips together betrayed him.

Just like it happened whenever you texted each other, the conversation didn't seem to have an ending. And it was the best thing with him, the way you felt you could talk for hours and never get bored. There was always a topic, a situation, an anecdote... always something that had you two engaged for a few more minutes. But you didn't know it'd be even better when you two went silent, staring at each other for some seconds, before you bit your lip and spoke again.

"You said it was unfair you couldn't see me in person" you started, tilting your head slightly, "What exactly do you want to see?".

One of his eyebrows raised at your question, grinning while he rested his back against the office chair in his room. "Your skin. I bet it looks softer than it does in pictures".

Your robe slipped off your right shoulder, exposing your collarbone and the curve of one of your breasts "Can you appreciate it now?".

"Kinda" he sighed, "It looks better than on the pic, but not good enough" he smiled again. "Maybe I need to see a bit more".

Now moving down the robe over your other shoulder, it was hanging on your arms -enough to cover up your nipples, but still showing off your cleavage. It was nothing he hadn't seen before though. You had sent several underwear pics at some point in the night, but somehow it felt different that day.

"Would you be able to handle this in person?" the middle finger of your free hand traced your collarbone ever so gently you felt tickles from your own touch.

"I'd do more than just handle it" he assured, his voice going lower with every word. "But I'd for sure rip that thing off. It's pissing me off".

"You don't need to break it though, just" and with that pause, you undid the knot on the upper part of your belly, allowing the soft fabric to expose your breasts on the screen "open it".

A whimper suddenly came out of his lips, at the same time he tried to find a more comfortable position on his chair. San also rolled it a bit more to the back, showing more than just his torso covered with that gray sweater.

You had never felt the strong need to sit on someone's lap until you saw his legs on the screen, with his hands falling on them lazily.

"Those tits are begging to be sucked"

"Hmm" your right hand kept wandering all over your torso, feeling your nipples tightening at the filth in his words. "I bet they'd look better if they were in your mouth instead".

Just the thought of it got your body working faster than it has ever worked before, as if you were going to take him at any time.

"Of course" he nodded "Getting them hard and stiff until they hurt".

Following his words, your index and thumb rubbed on your nipple, tightening the grip sporadically, ending it with a pinch and pull that got you pressing your thighs at the sudden throb.

"I want to see you, too"

San thought he'd collapse right there when he saw you pouting as you said that, your hand dropping out of the camera vision while your eyes intensely looked at him. Maybe he was too horny, or maybe his lack of experience with any other girl made him so eager for you. But there he was, willing to do anything you'd ask for.

While he took off his sweater, you placed a pillow at the edge of the bed just so you could rest your phone on it and forget about holding it up in the air. You heard him groan at the sight of your half naked body, while your hands still held together the edges of your robe so your lower part wouldn't be exposed.

"I think this is the hardest I've ever been for someone" he mentioned, stroking his growing bulge over his black sweatpants.

"Let me see how hard I'm making you" you asked, kneeling in the middle of the bed.

It didn't take San a minute before he was lowering his pants and boxers enough to let his cock spring free in the air, and ending up resting on his stomach. Your eyes got lost on the shape of his cock, thinking how bad you'd like to suck on its curve, tracing the veins that went from the base to the tip with your tongue.

You could feel your mouth watering at the image, wishing there weren't 2611 miles between you two right at that moment. That man for sure wasn't real. Every inch of his body was perfect.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teasingly asked, stroking his cock while he looked at you.

"I wish that was the problem" you scoffed, bending over, resting your body on your elbows, so you could see his image up close. "I've never wanted to get choked on a cock so bad in my life".

"I bet you'd look gorgeous with your mouth stuffed with it" he groaned.

You smiled, aiming two of your fingers at your mouth. You rubbed the tip of your fingerprints on your flat muscle, just to enclose your lips around them while staring straight at the camera. It felt like your eyes were connecting through the whole thing, because you could hear San cursing as soon as you did that.

"Show me how wet you are while you still suck on those fingers, hmm?"

Biting on your own fingerprints, you smiled. You for sure were leaking at that point, you could fill your juices dripping from your entrance to your clit when you bent over to the camera. Changing your position again, you opened your robe completely with your legs still closed as you saw in front of the camera. And once you made sure everything was seen for him, you spread your legs, having San moaning out loud at the vision of your glistening lips.

Your wet fingers with your spit traveled all the way from your lips to your pussy, moving through your folds for him. Your heart skipped a beat when they reached your clit, finally being taken care of after ignoring it for so long.

"Wet enough to have my face buried in it" his raspy voice added "I bet you taste so fucking good".

And soon those scenarios you planted in your head, with a mysterious man with no face, finally came back to your head with every detail you could add. Your pussy clenched around the emptiness in your walls as your mind went wild and your fingers drew circles slowly.

"I'd love to know if that tongue is good at licking as much as it is at dirty talking" you joked, finding his eyes somewhere on the screen again.

"You can bet I'd have your legs trembling and your ears beeping after you cum" he smirked. "Slide two fingers in. Open up for me".

And just the same way you allowed your fingers to go down your folds and sink them inside of you, you saw San spitting on his hand and wrapping it around his shaft again.

"That's it, honey. Knuckles deep" he encouraged you, making the biggest effort to keep his eyes open through his own pleasure. "Pump them in and out as if it were my cock".

The praise in his words, the way he controlled your movements even from afar had you completely out of your mind. You were sure the sound of his voice was giving you more pleasure than your own fingers.

Managing to open your eyelids, that felt heavy as ever before, you got a moan stuck in the back of your throat as you saw him pumping his cock at a steady pace. The way you were able to see your opened legs through the corner of your eyes, while your eyes were fixed on the porn scene he was pulling made everything hotter. You were sure the temperature rose a few more degrees the moment you started that video call.

"You'd look even better if it was my cock fucking you" he moaned, moving his hand faster on his shaft. "Your tits bouncing every time I pound into you, holding you tight by your hips so you could take it all".

"I bet you'd stretch me out so good" you nodded.

Your brain was close to having a dead short at any time. The naughtiness in his words, mixed with everything that was going on in real life and in your head was too much to handle. Your back arched every time you sinked your fingers in and your palm rubbed on your clit.

"I'm gonna cum" you cried, unable to hold it back any longer.

"I'm so close, too" he groaned, throwing his head back finally. "Wait for me. I'm almost there".

Still moving your fingers in sync with his movements, you found yourself at the edge of the cliff, only allowing yourself to jump from it when you heard muttering he was ready, too. Both of your moans got mixed in the air as you both reached your highs. And, slowly, those moans turned to loud pants while you tried to get some oxygen back to your lungs.

Daring to look at him, you found San with his head falling back to the chair, eyes still closed while he smiled pleased.

"It was amazing" he whispered.

"Yeah" you agreed, sighing.

He finally opened his eyes, and you were mesmerized by how beautiful and genuinely they looked. You saw him getting some air, and opening his mouth, before he got interrupted by a male voice coming from outside the room "Where the fuck is the controller? I need to beat these assholes' asses".

Managing to cover your body with the robe again, you smile at a pissed of San. "It's alright, you can text me later"

"I won't take long" he assured you, before he hung up the video call.

Back in the silence and loneliness in your room, you made your best at holding in the sudden need to jump on the bed and dance away in excitement.

Your bad streak was finally over.

Most probably this will turn into a long fanfic, just like Kalla did. So take this as a snippet of what's to come soon!

#ff #smut #one shot #reader insert #san #choi san #san smut #ateez #choisanxreader #sanxreader #armpirate

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