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strangersmunsons · 4 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 6 Prompt: Conversation Hearts 💕 ~ 2,300 words Eddie teases you because he thinks your crush on him is hilarious, but you don’t find it very funny.

A tiny, hard, unidentified object thwacks! against the back of your head.

“Ow!” You spin on your heel to confront the culprit, and…are actually not that surprised to see Eddie Munson standing there, smirking at you.

You rub the back of your head. “What was that?”

Wordlessly, Eddie holds up a small pink box. Conversation hearts. Of course.

You turn back around and keep walking, staring determinedly ahead, but he matches your pace. He strolls next to you down the hallway, nonchalant as can be, like he doesn’t have some trick up his sleeve to pester you with. When his arm brushes against yours, you shift subtly away, not wanting to touch him.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate, now is it?

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mumble back instinctively, the need to mind your manners overpowering your need to avoid engaging with Eddie Munson at any cost.

“So? Who’s the lucky fella taking you out tonight?”

There isn’t one. “None of your business.”

“Aw, come on, Princess. You gotta tell me who my competition is.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks. “That’s not funny.”

He pouts at you.

You abruptly veer off to the left and duck into the restroom; you don’t want to hear what he has to say next.

“Hey! Where ya going?”

You shut yourself into a stall and lean with your back against the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? Was it not enough for him to simply not reciprocate your feelings? He had to go out of his way to tease you about the stupid crush you have on him, too?

Used to have, you think bitterly to yourself, as though there wasn’t any lingering affection embedded deep into your heartstrings.

But it’s not that easy.

Eddie Munson was different. He was rowdy, snarky, and absurdly eloquent for a guy in his third go-round as a senior; he liked to read, he played guitar in a band, and he protected his friends like an attack dog. He worked at a bar and dragged on Lucky Strikes as he walked through the school parking lot, practically stomping across the pavement in his heavy boots.

But still, there was a softness hiding underneath that hard shell. You were sure of it.

Smitten kitten. That was you. Reaching your own senior year, you were finally, finally able to share a class with him. Ms. O’Donnell’s fourth period English became your favorite part of the day, the perfect place to indulge in your silly romantic fantasies, because the leading hero who starred in them was conveniently seated just two desks away.

Which was all fine and dandy for you, until he knew.

You still don’t know how he found out. Did Nancy Wheeler let something slip in front of her brother, Mike, who ran and snitched to his fearless club leader? Or did Eddie somehow glean it from you by sheer intuition?

It was little things at first. Cocky, arrogant smirks aimed directly at you when he came into the room and plopped down in his seat. Cheeky tugs at your hair in the hallway. He hissed your name across the library and pulled goofy faces when you turned to look, wagged his tongue and threw wadded-up balls of paper at you. These actions left you confused, and automatically put you on guard. What did they mean, and why did they start occurring so suddenly?

You weren’t left guessing for long. He quickly got bolder. Eddie was already behaving like a general menace, but then it went beyond the rude gestures and peskiness. He did the unthinkable; he started teasing you mercilessly about your pathetic infatuation.

He chased you in the hallways, calling you mocking pet names and asking when you were going to finally give him a chance. He blew kisses at you when you made eye contact in the cafeteria, pouting at you when you didn’t return them, while his friends all watched the exchange and laughed uproariously.

It was so humiliating you could cry, and you had, many times over. And to think you had liked him because he was supposed to be nice underneath that tough exterior.

You’d rather be on the receiving end of Jason Carver’s poisonous words, or even worse — a repeat of Tommy Hagan’s routine torture from the year prior would be preferable to this.

Having Eddie poke fun at your unrequited love for him was far too much to bear.

You sniffle uncontrollably, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You wipe at them furiously with your sleeve, feeling hot with embarrassment. You wish you could hide in here forever, and you almost do — but the late bell rings, and — Goddamn it — you have a quiz. Heaving a shuddery sigh, you walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a sprint to Ms. O’Donnell’s room.

The ornery woman gives you a frown as you enter her class late; you keep your eyes glued to the floor as you scamper to your seat, pointedly ignoring the curious stares of your peers, who are no doubt wondering what’s got you in such a state. Certainly not meeting his gaze, which is trained on you. You can practically feel it.

Quiz papers are passed out, and you can scarcely focus on the questions. You skim and answer as quickly as you can, wanting nothing more than to put your head down and wait for class to end.

The period passes in a blur; you’ve spent most of it watching the clock, telepathically willing the red hand ticking the seconds by to move faster. As soon as the bell rings you’re out of your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder and all but running from the room.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You ignore him, weaving in and out of the crowd of students.

He catches up with you anyway. “What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, for once sounding completely serious as he talks to you. “Why were you crying?”

Tears threaten to well up again. You purse your lips and shake your head as your face starts to crumble. God, you’re so over this whole thing. The teasing and the crying followed by more teasing, and more crying, an endless cycle that left you emotional and on edge every time you had to see him.

“Hey.” He tries to place a ringed hand on your shoulder, a touch that would have had you swooning mere months ago, but you wrench yourself out of his grip, face streaming.

Later at home, your parents are off to dinner, celebrating their own love story. You revel in the luxury of an empty house, taking a long, hot shower, and slipping on your softest pajamas. Ordering your favorite takeout and putting on a comfort movie has you feeling almost okay again; you’re determined that today will be the last day you let Eddie Munson get under your skin, ever.

There’s a rapping at the door. You hop up from the couch and grab the cash your parents set aside for your dinner, pad to the front door, and swing it open with a polite smile plastered on your face.

Except the person standing there is decidedly not a delivery boy with an armful of food, but one Eddie Munson.

Immediately, you try to slam the door shut, but Eddie sticks his foot out before it can close all the way. He yelps in pain as the heavy door squashes his Reebok, but he doesn’t move.

“Oh my God! Is it not enough for you to bully me at school? Now you have to come to my house?! How do you even know where I live?!”

“Wheeler told me your address!” His eyes are wide, alarmed by the ferocity of your reaction. Wincing, he asks, “Can you just talk to me for a second, please? I’m trying to check on you.”

Reluctantly, you ease the pressure you’re putting on his foot. You keep the door half-shut, peering at him from around the jamb. You say nothing, waiting suspiciously.

When it seems to Eddie that you’re not going to deck him, he relaxes a little. “I just wanted to apologize,” he admits, sounding as bashful as Eddie probably ever could. “I guess I upset you earlier today, and I didn’t mean to.” He pauses. “That was because of me, right?”

You sigh. “The fact that you even have to ask…”

His cheeks turn pink, and shuffles his feet nervously. “Look, I’m really sorry. For buggin’ you all the time. I guess…it’s some kind of…wish fulfillment thing for me, or whatever — anyway, it’s stupid, and I’m sorry for doing that to you. I swear I didn’t realize that it upset you so much, otherwise I never would’ve kept doing it.”

Eddie’s grimacing in shame, eyes downcast. He does look awfully sorry, but you’re not quite ready to forgive.

“I just don’t understand why.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “You know, you spend so much time fighting the basketball team, or anybody that so much as looks the wrong way at your Hellfire friends. You know what it’s like to get picked on. How could you do that to me? Even for a second?”

Eddie opens his mouth to interject, but you press on.

“If you thought it was funny that I liked you, then fine. You don’t have to like me back. But you don’t need to laugh in my face about it, either.”

He blinks. “I — what?”

“That’s so fucking mean, Eddie, for you to taunt me every single day —”

“You liked me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you snap back.

“Princess, if you liked me, this is the first I’m hearing about it. I was under the impression that you hated my guts.”

Both of you fall silent, staring at each other intensely. Eddie’s brow is deeply furrowed, full lips parted in wonder.

You falter uncertainly. “I’m…confused.”

His face is a mirror of your own bewilderment. “So am I. You thought I was teasing you…for having a crush on me?”

You suddenly feel very exposed, like someone just walked in on you naked. “Weren’t you?”

“No.”

The words hangs in the air between you for a moment.

“Well, I definitely don’t anymore,” you state defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why did you think that?”

“Because you never looked twice at me and then all of a sudden you — you started calling me Princess and blew me kisses and talked about us going on dates like it was the funniest joke in the world!”

“Did it ever occur to you,” he replies, uncharacteristically quiet, “that I did all those things because I liked you?”

There’s an odd swooping sensation, like stepping for a missing stair.

A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, though his big doe-eyes still have a tinge of sadness in them. “I — I thought,” he wavers, then tries again, “I kept asking when you would go out with me because I really want you to. Go out with me, I mean.”

“Wish fulfillment,” you mumble, echoing his phrasing from earlier.

“I thought we were playing some kind of game, I guess. I thought you knew the meaning behind it, when I would do all those things. I had no idea I was hurting your feelings. And believe me, I had no clue that you had a crush on me — you’re way out of my league, Princess. I thought I was fighting a losing battle, so I kept hamming it up.”

You’re completely dumbfounded. “You threw papers at me. And pencils. And dice.”

Eddie chuckles nervously, thoroughly embarrassed. “Forgive me. I’ve been held back twice; that’s not really an indicator of a mature brain, is it?” He shrugs. “I wanted you to pay attention to me.”

All the emotional turmoil of the day hits you like a tidal wave. Impossibly, you find yourself getting choked up yet again. “All this time, I thought you were laughing at me.”

“I wasn’t,” he says softly, taking a step towards you. “I swear on my life, I never meant to make you feel this way. God, sweetheart, if I’d have known…” His gaze lingers on your watery eyes, your trembling lips, the way you’re almost hiding from him behind the jamb. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I didn’t see it.”

You swallow harshly. “It’s my own fault, I think. I always jump to conclusions — everyone tells me all the time that I’m too sensitive.”

“You’re not too sensitive,” he reassures you. “You’re sweet, you know? Gentle. That’s all.”

Oh. Eddie Munson thinks you’re gentle.

He cocks his head to the side. “Did it ever even occur to you? That I might have a crush on you, too?”

You laugh in spite of yourself, wiping at a few stray tears. “No.”

“Well, it should have. ‘Cause I did then, and I do right now, too.”

Eddie slips something out of his pocket, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He holds out the same box he had earlier: small and pink, still full of pastel candies rattling against the cardboard. He pulls the flap open and shakes a few out into his palm; after looking over his options, he selects a lilac-colored heart and holds it out so you can see the small text. It simply reads: FOR YOU.

“A small token of my affection,” he whispers. “If you want it.”

Without thinking you reach out and grasp his leather-clad forearm, tugging on his sleeve. “Come inside,” you whisper back, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to have him close and warm. “Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Eddie bows his head. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

He finally crosses the threshold and steps into your arms, swinging the door shut behind him.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader

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lactoseintolerentswag · 8 months

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Rise Characterizations

Last month I did an in-depth re-watch of rottmnt s1 to take some notes on writing the characters of rise from their perspective and such. Figured I'd share what I found, but I'm also posting this bc my docs have a nasty habit of blipping out of existence.

We'll start with Raph bc he's the oldest of course, but I'll post the others sep. bc this is gonna get long!!

Raph Character Notes

Language Habits:

Catchphrases: "like a boss", "smash"

Verbalizes his attacks such as "smash", "knuckle sandwich", "power smash jitsu", "tonfa power jitsu", "mystic punch jitsu"

Uses older song titles for surprised exclamations or in place of cursing, most notably "jumping jack flash!"

Uses aave/bae, For example: 'em instead of them, 'ey instead of they, 'cause instead of because, forgoes the g in ing words (going becomes goin')

Uses less and less grammar the more he's stressed, and his voice will come to a higher pitch

Will speak in a softer tone to his little brothers if he's concerned about hurting their feelings. Aka babying them

Mixes up both metaphors and idioms. Would be one to say how the turn tables unironically

Does say "hero" a lot, lost count, especially in phrases like "hero town"

Refers to his brothers as "boys" or "fellas"

Refers to Splinter as "pop(s)" most often

Refers to strangers he's directly talking to as "bubs" or "hoss"

Personality:

Protective of his family

Plays up the hero act/has a strong sense of duty and justice

Impatient, rushes in without a plan (pre-movie), doesn't finish books until the end, falls asleep during "boring movies"

Oblivious, doesn't read into things beyond surface level. Struggles with empathy when something is beyond his understanding, but is still very emotional

Center of responsibility for his brothers, but also has a reckless sense of fun. As long as it's him doing the stupid unsafe thing it's fine

Carries the weight, in a literal sense he piggy backs his brothers, but will also use his body as a shield from danger. Unfortunately this also means he takes his brothers a little less seriously (Mikey the most common victim), and will try and either protect them from everything or as an oldest sibling everything has go "his way"

Doesn't do well in solitude. Needs to be looking after people to feel functional, and needs to be around people to feel safe

Clumsy, "takes horrible pictures", isn't very good at hiding, he's a big guy so it probably took a lot of time to find balance

A sweet guy who still won't shy from making fun of his family. Leo tends to be the brunt of his teasing since he is the most annoying, but he will also poke Donnie on his dramatics

Likes cute things!!! Has a teddy bear collection and loves animals. It's so cool how this isn't played off as a joke and he's still just as masculine for liking pink and cutesy stuff

Likes fighting!!! Gets a lot of energy out defeating bad guys (where he directs his anger towards), the one who is shown to train the most, and also weight lifts in his spare time

Doesn't do well under pressure, here the anger comes out the most. He gets stressed when it's all on him, especially since he tends to mess up the most in these moments

Miscellaneous:

Second to unlock mystic powers

Nicknames/codenames: "raph-a-doodle" by leo, "red rover" by april, "red king" by donnie

Teddy bear names: Doctor Huggenstein, Captain Snuggles, Cheech

Stinks: fear stink, amazement stink, sneaking up on people stink, victory stink

Seems to be less afraid of rabbits and more afraid of puppets

Went on his first solo mission at 13

Cannot lift a bus, at age 15

Thought about discussing fighting style, but I'm not as familiar with that concept and I've seen a couple posts dissecting such topic. So we'll end here for now. Hope this was helpful!!! I'll post the rest of the boys later and link here

Leo is up!!

Donnie is up!!

Mikey is up!!

Splinter is up!!

April is up!!

Cassandra is up!!

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rottmnt raphael #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #character analysis #long post #fanfic #writing #critter talks

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dizscreams · 1 year

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Hobie x fem reader where he gets a little jealous that’s shes been hanging out with another guy and she reassures him

NO NEED TO BE JEALOUS

— Hobie Brown ★

PAIRING: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

A/N: The Hobie brainrot is crazy

You crawled out of bed in a rush since you were already late to your hangout with Miles, accidentally waking up your boyfriend in the process. “Where you off to?” He asked groggily watching as you quickly grabbed a shirt and shimmied into your pants. “Hanging out with Miles!”

“Miles Morales?”

“Yeah, I told you this last night.”

You smirked at his muttered “Of course its Miles” but carried on getting ready like you didn’t hear it.

You put on mascara quickly and checked the time again. “What do you do when you’re with him?” He asked curiously. You looked at him as he propped his elbow on the bed and looked at you tiredly. “Not much,” you chuckled, “He’s been helping me with my drawings recently, giving me tips and all of that boring stuff.”

He nodded and opened his mouth to say something before you cut him off, “Shit I gotta go. I’ll see you later, I love you!” You kissed his head and grabbed one of Hobie’s jackets before running off. He groaned and rolled over to put his head into his pillow. He trusted you, he really did, but he didn’t know Miles too well.

He was a good kid it seemed but you had been spending a lot more time with Miles than you were with Hobie. But Hobie wasn’t jealous, of course not! He didn’t get jealous. He just wished you spent more time with your actual boyfriend than with a kid you just met.

That was it.

That night Hobie waited in your room for you to come home. You ended up coming home at 9 o’clock at night. You stepped through the portal and immediately greeted your boyfriend. “Oh hey, you’re still here?” You asked as you sat on the bed next to him. “Yeah, you were out late.” You looked at the clock and grimaced, “Were you waiting this whole time?”

Hobie nodded in reply and you kissed his cheek, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Miles and I were spray painting all the spider people we’re friends with and it’s super cool. You should come see it sometime!” You ranted as you got up from your position on the bed and changed into more comfy clothes, that being an oversized t-shirt of Hobies and some sweatpants.

“You spent the whole day with him?”

“Yeah,” you replied nonchalantly as you laid down on the bed, sighing as your back his the comfy mattress.

You patted the spot next to you and Hobie moved to sit upright against the headboard. “Are you okay?” You asked looking up at him. “Fine, just fine,” he responded in a way that told you he was definitely not just fine. You put a hand on his arm and moved to prop yourself up so that you were now sitting upright against the headboard as well.

“What’s wrong?”

You would be lying if you said his crossed arms and slight pout didn’t amuse you. You knew exactly what was wrong, you just wanted to mess with him a bit. This was about Miles. Everytime you mentioned his name you saw Hobie roll his eyes or you heard a small annoyed groan. It was funny to you, but you couldn’t tell him that.

“You’re spending a lot of time with this Miles fella, don’t you think?”

You hid your smile and shrugged, “Guess so. He’s just a good friend is all.”

“A good friend?” He repeated, “You’ve known him three days tops.”

“Hobie?”

“What?”

“Do you think you might be jealous of Miles?”

He made a weird face and you laughed. “It’s okay to admit it you know,” you gave him a teasing smile and put your chin on his shoulder. “You’re kinda hot when you’re jealous.”

He rolled his eyes and gently pushed your head off his shoulder, “Shut up. Ain’t jealous.” Your smile turned into a grin, “Right, is that why you can’t even look at me when you say it?” He turned his head to look at you and gave you a glare. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren’t jealous,” you said with a small laugh.

“You serious?”

“Extremely.”

He hated how much fun you were getting out of this but couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips. "M' not jealous of some 15 year old.” You hummed, “Thought you hated labels.” He shook his head and out of no where grabbed your waist and put you on his lap. He laughed at the yelp you let out and you hit his shoulder. “You could’ve given me a warning!”

“You didn’t deserve it.”

You scoffed, “You are unbelievable, Hobie.”

“What? You don’t like me teasing you, after all you’ve said to me?” You stayed silent with a pout on your lips and he kissed your forehead, “Cmon now, ’s just fun and games, love.” “Jus fun and games, love.” You mimicked with your familiar smile returning back to your face. You laughed at his reaction before leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder and put your arms around him.

“Back to the main point, you are jealous.”

He let out a breath and nodded, “Suppose so.”

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Ay! Just a bit. Lets not forget that you were jealous of Gwen one time.”

“Okay, shut up.”

He laughed and you smiled, “I just want you to know you’re the only guy I want. You’re cooler than Miles, but don’t tell him I said that,” you warned as you observed the dumb smirk on his face. “I wont.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He put his arms around your torso and you both stayed like that until you fell asleep.

Maybe he was stupid to be jealous of Miles but the outcome was completely worth it.

#dizzy writes?! 😵‍💫#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk #spider man across the spider verse

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lialacleaf · 9 months

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A Touch Too Personal

Chapter 1

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You had a crush on Ghost since you started working for Price in communications, but the gruff, reserved Lieutenant only acknowledged your existence on the job. That starts to change with a simple, thoughtful gift.

Warnings: Fluff, Simon is bad at processing emotions, past trauma

Chapter 2

You cared deeply about every single one of your teammates. It didn’t matter that you were sitting in an office talking to them over the radio, you were still providing them with intel and directions that kept them alive.

They were like a second family, and so Task Force 141 slowly began to feel like having a lot of older brothers.

Johnny was your go to partner in crime when it came to making mischief, and you knew he was always down for a good prank.

Kyle on the other hand was good for having deep conversations and was the one you always went to for advice.

Ghost…well ghost was a bit different. Your feelings towards him weren’t exactly that of a sibling. Maybe it was because he was more reserved than the others, a mystery or puzzle that you couldn’t quite figure out, but you couldn’t help but feel warm inside on the rare occasion that his intense gaze did linger on you.

Which lead to your current dilemma.

Every time you went home, you made sure to bring one of the boys a gift when you returned to base.

Being that Price was like a father figure, you brought him a handcrafted mug from your hometown’s local pottery festival. Soap had gotten a pocket knife with his call sign engraved on it, and Gaz had received a baseball cap with a hand stitched 141 on the side in his favorite color.

However, now it was Ghost’s turn, and you were at a loss. What would he even like to have? You knew he had an array of tactical gear, you’d seen him knit pick through it on occasion, but you didn’t know enough about working in the field to know kind of tools he’d like. He had so many knives already, that it felt redundant to get him another.

What on earth were you supposed to give this man?

“Maybe you could make this Ghost fella something yourself?” Your mother suggested as you sat in your parents living room to ponder the issue.

Your mother liked Ghost’s nickname, and laughed whenever you brought it up. You could only assume she was picturing a little boy in a Scream costume, and you had to admit that was a little funny. Ghost was the only one to not have shared his real name with you, and thus always ended up being teased by your family, not that he was aware of that.

“Like what?” You asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m stopping by the craft store, how about you come with me instead of sulking in the living room?”

You watched your mother peruse through the holiday decorations and shook your head. That woman was amassing quite the Christmas village collection.

You wandered through the store with dwindling hope until you saw it. It was in the fabric section that you found the most perfect pattern for your Lieutenant.

The fabric had a black background, with white Ghosts all over it. You picked up the roll with a brilliant smile on your face, and ran over to one of the fabric department employees.

“I need some of this,” you said, giddy and bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“How much do you want?” The woman asked, preparing her scissors.

Ghost was a pretty large man, and you took a moment to think about just how much fabric you were going to need.

“Uhhh, a lot.”

“Lass! How was the family?” Johnny asked, pulling you in for a tight hug as you pulled your luggage into your room on base.

“It was good, ate a lot, took my cousins shooting, family stuff,” you said with a grin. “I gotta show you something,” you insisted, pulling him inside your room.

“Oh? What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“You know how I always bring back a surprise?” You began, a grin on your face.

“Who’s the lucky winner?” He chucked.

“You tell me.” You beamed at him as you pulled out the larger than life knot-tie blanket you’d made, and Johnny’s jaw dropped.

“You did not!” He gasped, chuckling at he inspected it. One side was the Ghost fabric you’d found, and the other was made from the softest army green material you could find. In the top corner. You’d stitched in a small British Flag patch, and each corner has a sandbag sewn in.“You made him a bloody weighted blanket? What gave you that idea?” He asked.

“We’ll I couldn’t find anything I thought he’d like at first, but then I saw the fabric and it just fell together so perfectly!”

“Oh man, I would kill to see his reaction to this,” Johnny said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

“You say that like we ever get to see his reaction to anything,” you stated. You’d never actually seen him without some sort of face covering.

Johnny tisked softly and shrugged. “Alright, you got me there,” he admitted. “He’s in his room now, probably as good a time as any.”

You couldn’t help but grin broadly. “Perfect.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you approached Ghost’s door. You knew it was just the nerves that came along with your little crush on the Lieutenant, but it still made the task at hand a little daunting.

You took a deep breath, knocking softly on the door. Maybe you should have wrapped it for him. What if he didn’t like it? How were you supposed to react if he just brushed you off.

The door opened before you could rethink your decision. It always came as a shock how large Ghost was, no matter how many times you stood mask to face.

“You’re back.”

You felt your heart rate spike. He had noticed you were gone? Had noticed you? Of course he had noticed, it was his job to notice, it didn’t mean anything.

“Yeah,” you said, waiting for him to ask how your trip was, or if you were glad to be back. He didn’t.

“I got you something!” You said suddenly, holding the folded blanket out to him, and his entire body seemed to freeze. He stared at it for a moment or two, as if he were slowly processing the object.

“What is it?”

Your smile faltered. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he inspected it as if it were some kind of trick. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he took it carefully from your hands.

“Where’d you get it?”

Shit, he hates it.

“I- Uhm. I made it,” you admitted, your cheeks blazing. This was stupid. You were stupid.

He looked between you and the blanket in his hands, and nodded. “Thanks,” he said before stepping back into his room and closing the door.

You pressed your lips together firmly in an attempt to not start bawling. You walked off on shaky legs, taking deep breaths. At least he hadn’t told you he didn’t want it.

Simon sat on his bed, his thumb brushed over the small flag patched into the corner of the blanket. The fact that you had made him a gift by hand had his stomach in knots. He knew about your little gift tradition with the rest of 141, but he hadn’t expected to be included, nor did he expected you’d go to such trouble. The two of you weren’t even very close.

He swallowed thickly as tears pricked his eyes. This was the nicest thing any teammate had ever given him.

He brought the fabric to his face and gave it a deep whiff. It smelled fresh, like laundry detergent. You must have washed it before you gave it to him.

Simon spread the blanket carefully over his cot, admiring how the fabric felt against his hands. It didn’t catch on his calloused fingers, and wasn’t too fluffy.

It was large too, as if you’d taken his massive size into account. He was certain he could easily caving himself in it. His bottom lip wobbled slightly, and it was an effort to hold his tears at bay.

That night, Simon slept soundly, wrapped in your carefully crafted gift, and you were the only thing on his mind.

AN: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

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

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chiiyuuvv · 5 months

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TAKING A SHOWER WITH RIIZE

• PAIRING — bf!riize x fem!reader

• GENRE — established relationship, fluff, suggestive

• WORD COUNT — 610

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — just a little thought i had,, and immediately came to write it down

• TAGLIST — @starryriize , @cake1box , @babigriin , @soul-is-a-strange-kid , @riizeaus , @mxlly143 , @yeosayang , @lecheugo (welcome!) @yuniniverse • CREDIT — @starryriize for sohee and sungchan, tyy <3

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

SHOTARO ☆

hes just a smiley little fella

Uses this time to talk about your day, maybe even sliding in a few pick up lines to make you laugh

Defo hugs you in the shower

Like one second youre chatting and scrubbing and then his arms are around your waist and his chin on your neck, offering you another smile

Just loves it when hes hugging you and the water is raining on yall.. just feels so much comfort ♡

EUNSEOK ☆

Two words come in mind and two only

Pretty. Girl.

Like i feel hes not that big on pet names, like hed just call you by your name or like half of it but as soon as your under the water thats all he can think of. Pretty. Girl.

Lowkey gets hard and doesnt even bother hiding it. Bc 1. How youre like right there?? And 2. He wants you to know the affect you have on him

You just like a little spicy treat 🥰 and he will eat you. But where?? In the shower.. in bed.. against the mirror.. even on the floor idk man bros kinda desperate 🤷‍♀️ ♡

SUNGCHAN ☆

Hes so cocky about it

Like he knows how much you like his muscles and hes just flexing atp.. but like gently??

Like usually hed tease you for it but when showering hes just like "oh baby, you like that? Go on, touch me baby."

And best believe hes gonna use every excuse to touch you, supposed to washing your hair but his hands magically appear at your breasts like???

And also best believe that youre not only wet from the shower.. but also him ♡

WONBIN ☆

I think this is inspired by that wonbin thought i wrote a while ago, but i feel like showering together is only when one had a long, tiring day and needs to melt with their loved one

So yeah, i feel like since wonbin has such a busy schedule, he'd just come home and drag you to the bathroom

If youre tired he will defo wash you. Like without a doubt

If hes tired he will still try to wash you, but melts when you do it instead

Im talking about looking down at you with his big doe eyes, a lazy smiling creeping on his lips as hes just so lucky to have you ♡

SEUNGHAN ☆

Will you any and every excuse in the world to get you to come with him

"But you wont accompany your lovely, cutie, handsome, prett-" "seunghan, im coming if you stop."

Feel like hes another hugger, just happy to have some warm water raining down on him and his loved one

Loves loves loves washing your hair!!

And has this little smile on his face, his eyes closed when you do it to him, hes just about to melt the cutie :((( ♡

SOHEE ☆

Okay so i wrote anton first and then realized how similar they are so just bare with me 😭✋

so yes yes suppa shy and hes looking at you like 🤤🥴

But hes more horny??? And kinda pervy??

Like noticable is hard but tries to play it off and its like how?? I can see you my boy 🤨

Please touch him. He defo wont whimper i promise <3 ♡

ANTON ☆

So so so shy and for what?

Like youve been together for a while, seen every part of each other, took showers like three times yet hes still like "dont look at me!" In a tiny voice

And although he doesnt want you to look at him, he sureee is looking at you

Bc zamn... like wowow the curves.. hes gonna drool

But gets red when you catch him ♡

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) || ch.I

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,187

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), flirty banter, fighting, jk has a bit of a temper, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, Heaven+

A/N: Okay I have been having such baby fever for last few years no joke. I wanna be mom or aunty but my sister won’t have kids yet! So i write this lame series to cope even though it's lowkey sad? lmao. Enjoy!! 🥰

༓ ch. II >> | series masterlist

You’re not exactly sure when it happened but one minute you’re crouched over, sketching in your journal and the next, a child with big brown eyes comes up beside you to watch over your shoulder. He’s a cute little fella, you note. Can't be more than four years old. His hair is ink-black and on the longer side. He’s got on a pair of black and white checkered pants, navy blue sweatshirt, and a toy snug under one arm. At first glance, you struggle to make out the toy but it looks like an elephant.

“Hi…” His hand reaches for you. It tugs the edge of your dress sleeve before reaching down to latch onto a few fingers. You smile up at the child, warmth immediately beaming through your heart.

“Hi sweetheart,” you say. “What’s your name?” You wait for the boy to answer but he doesn’t. Instead, he shuffles down next to you on the grass and points to your drawing. His delicate eyebrows knit together in an inquisitive manner. “What is this?” he asks.

You look down at your drawing, examining it from various angles. It's unfinished but you're working on a sketch of the pond nearby. You've managed to capture the sun-kissed water but the sky needs more work. Being the weekend, you couldn't give up the rare opportunity to indulge in your favorite hobby. “It’s the pond with all the colorful leaves,” you reply.

Blank face, the child thinks before speaking again. “Who taught you?”

Now that's an interesting question. Drawing had always been in your blood since a child. You fell in love with the ability to let your imagination run wild on paper whether it be on the back of your homework or even cardboard. To you, drawing was freedom and discovery. It allowed you to express emotion, memories, abstract thoughts, and to recreate the real world. You typically preferred sketching with drawing pencils but occasionally dabbled with watercolors. You had a gift for it–a natural gift.

By the time high school rolled around, you tended to hole up in the art room, sketching for as long as you could. Your art teacher suggested you go to school for it come senior year which gave you enough push to bring it up to your parents. Determined, you spoke to your parents about it but it was null–art could only be a hobby, it couldn’t support your future. They suggested you go to school for economics or finance instead. You nearly hurled at the idea but you eventually agreed, knowing they’d never pay for you to go to art school. Drawing, as you found out, had to be on the side.

"I had a teacher once in school," you say. "But I mostly learned myself."

The child tilts his head to the side, a puzzled look on his face. “You?”, he says.

You nod your head in affirmation.

“No way! Even I have art teacher.”

You chuckle lightly and move to stand up from the grass, needing to stretch due to your crouched position. He follows suit, still clinging to your hand. “Where you going, Eomma?”

Eomma...That's a name you don't get called often. You're not used to being seen as the mom type. In fact, when you tied the knot with Jungkook, the two of you agreed that having a family was a grey area. You both liked kids, sure, but being parents? That was a subject neither of you seriously considered. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” you coo. “I’m not your Eomma. But, let’s find her together, okay?”

The child shakes his head, refusing to budge. "Mm no," he says, clinging to your leg. "Wanna stay with you." Your heart skips a beat. Children don't typically take to you like this. It causes something inside of you to want to lunge down and pick up the child in a tight embrace. But you nip that thought in the bud when you catch sight of a woman roughly your age jogging toward you. She looks like the child’s mother.

“Si-woo!” She gives a wave. "Si-woo come here!"

“Eomma!” The child’s cheeks rise into a big grin as he watches his mom approach nearer. He lets go of your leg but his hand remains locked in your own. You end up squeezing Si-woo’s tiny hand but then, like a bitter aftertaste, you remember– he doesn’t belong to you. You loosen your grip and allow him to run back to his mom.

“It was nice meeting you Si-woo!” There’s a hint of sadness in your tone but you do your best to brush it off. You only knew Si-woo for a short while and now he’s back with his real mom. You should be happy but when Si-woo’s mom lifts her son, she gives you a scowl. She doesn’t even come up to say anything to you but turns around and carries her son back to their picnic area. You frown realizing you were merely a stranger who little kids are told not to talk to.

You sigh and glance at your unfinished drawing. Suddenly, you don’t feel like drawing anymore. You pack up your belongings in your bag and head to your car, the event replaying in your mind.

You can’t blame Si-woo’s mom for being a little rigid, you think. You’d share a similar reaction with your own kids if you had any–if you had any. You repeat the phrase unexpectedly. Were you warming up to the idea? Your marriage did recently surpass the two-year mark, perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to consider having…no, you mentally stop yourself. Yes, Si-woo was cute but it likely wouldn't happen. You toss your bag of art supplies in the back seat and drive home.

“Jungkook! You here?” You step into your shared apartment and drop your bag on the kitchen counter. The smell of burnt wax mixed with vanilla bean hits you as soon as you walk into the living room. “Jungkook you better be home or these candles are going in the trash!” You really didn’t mind the candles but your husband had a nasty habit of keeping them lit even when you were both out of the house. He didn’t do it on purpose, of course, it was accidental but it was too much of a fire hazard to ignore.

“Kook!” you holler again, but no reply. These damn candles. You snuff them out one by one before venturing into the bedroom. Thankfully none were lit in there. You reach behind your back and unzip your dress, letting it pile around your feet. It's a beautiful dress but you were dying to get into a pair of sweat shorts and a t-shirt.

“Hey honey,” Jungkook says, emerging from the bathroom with damp hair and a towel tied around his waist. You let out a yelp before making eye contact. You've always been easily startled. “How was the park?”

Mentally, you bite your lip. This man was getting sexier every day, especially with that gold band wrapped around his fourth finger. You toss a t-shirt over your head. “Absolutely wonderful. Been a while since I’ve been able to really focus and draw. I loved every second." Should you mention the child? You pause, briefly contemplating the thought. Why not? "A really cute kid came up to watch me draw too…’til his mother took him away.” You don't notice but you nearly spat the last part.

Jungkook lets out a small snort, amused by your sudden irritation. There were many things he knew you could put up with, a resilient woman you were. But whoever this kid’s mother was must have gotten under your skin in the most unusual way. “It’s great you had a good time but you sound borderline offended about whoever this kid’s mother is.”

“It’s nothing really.” You shrug. “The kid came up to me and grabbed my hand. We had a nice talk but then his mom showed up. She didn’t even say hi to me. She just picked up her son and scowled at me like I took him or something. Believe me, I get it. But I didn’t do anything!”

“Don’t think about it too much __. She was probably just worried about getting her son back. I’m sure she did mean anything.”

“I guess. But do I really look that harmful?” You face your husband, hands perfectly poised on your hips.

Jungkook strides over to you and strokes down your arms until your hands relax to your sides. He gives you a quick peck on the lips. “Yes.”

Surprised, your mouth falls open. How dare he?! You give a pout, one that Jungkook finds especially irresistible. “Then you can keep your hands and lips off me for the rest of the night, Mr. Jeon.” You wiggle out of his grasp.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you for the past four years Ms. y/l/n. But you couldn’t stay away, could you? Just had to marry your hot professor, you naughty girl.” Jungkook grabs you again, pressing himself against your torso. You squeal at the contact. Married for two years and you’re still a blushing mess, get it together __!

“I wasn’t the one who was grabbing my student’s ass after class halfway through the first semester,” you quip, gripping his biceps. “I’m innocent.”

“Oh honey, nonono. You don’t get to play the role of a shy little angel who got eaten by her big bad wolf of a professor day one of university. You were already a master's student when we met. You knew what you were getting into when you started wearing tight little skirts to my class.”

You roll your eyes. “C’mon I had leggings underneath and I wore sweaters. If you’re accusing me of seducing you through my wardrobe then you have a very odd way of getting turned on.”

“Honey, how long have you known me? Sure tits and ass are cool and I won’t say no if you wanna show me.” You give a light shove on his shoulder at that, Jungkook chuckles. “But I have a doctorate in economics. Nothing catches my interest more than a studious individual like yourself studying all the angles of supply and demand. Plus, I liked your sweaters. Made me curious what you were hiding.”

“Oh stop it!” You end up giggling at your husband’s beyond-cheesy explanations. “How am I supposed to know my economics professor was ogling my teddy bear sweater for fuck sake?”

Jungkook throws his head back, feigning frustration. “It wasn’t a teddy bear sweatshirt. It was a bunny and it was very cute!”

“Whatever. Point is, I’m not the one to blame. I was a good student getting her master’s like her parents wanted until she found out her professor was sculpted from the gods themselves. Your shirts were barely fitting you. I swore they were going to bust one of those class periods.” You imagine the horrified look your peers would give. Not you though, you'd probably start drawing him. Shameless, really.

“As I recall that shirt-busting happened many times by your claws. I had to replace a dozen shirts in a month from how many you destroyed.” A pair of manly hands sensually trace down your sides. Jungkook leans forward, lips near your ear. “Seems like you had a lot of pent-up energy.” He nips your ear before peppering small kisses down your neck.

“You have no idea.“ You close your eyes, a moan escaping from you. "Professor–"

Jungkook grunts, suddenly suckling on the sensitive skin. “Mmm you haven’t called me that in a while. Kinda missed it”, he says, backing you up against the dresser. You were about to hop on top when your ass hit the edge but a rude, obnoxious ringing pulled Jungkook off you.

“Hey man!” Your husband answers the phone, a little too joyous in your opinion. You knew exactly who it was on the phone–Park Jimin. You bite your cheek, doing your best to keep down a sour face.

“Yeah let me ask __. Hold on.” Jungkook looks at you. “Honey, Jimin wants us to go out to dinner with the guys. You wanna go or stay in?”

Maybe, you think. You love Jimin but his dinners are usually quite elaborate. He always makes reservations to the fanciest restaurants in Seoul, and he required everyone to be dressed to the hills. It was fun now and then but did you have the energy for that tonight? Eh. What the hell. “Sure. What time?”

Jungkook passes on your inquiry before looking at you again. “6 p.m.” You nod in consent and walk to your closet, rummaging through your clothes for something Jimin-worthy. “Alright man, we’ll see you there. Yeah got it, k bye.” Jungkook hangs up the phone and watches you pull out dress shirts, pants, blazers, literally all your work clothes. “Found anything?” he pipes up.

You pull out a dark green dress, above knee-length, and gorgeously hemmed. “I’m pretty sure I wore this last time but–“

“Next," Jungkook interrupts. "Jimin will notice and you know how he gets when people wear the same outfit twice in a row.” your husband fiddles with through his own dresser drawers, yanking out an oversized t-shirt. You groan knowing all too well how tight Jimin ran this operation. One time Namjoon came in the same maroon dress shirt as before causing Jimin to have an absolute fit. He even made the man go home and change. Dinner was late that night.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You rummage through your closet again hoping to find something tucked in the back. There’s bound to be something. “Damnit, I thought I had more than this,” you grunt, finding nothing.

“Do we need to go on a last-minute shopping trip?” Jungkook throws on a pair of cargo pants.

You groan internally. Shopping isn't your favorite activity. It always took so long, and nothing was to your liking. You prefer online shopping but with only three hours until dinner and apparently nothing in your wardrobe, you suppose it's inescapable.

“Come on, honey.” Jungkook combs through his hair with a few fingers and grabs his wallet from the nightstand. “This is for Jimin."

"Alright, let me put some jeans on.” Jimin, you bougie little punk.

You view yourself in the dressing room mirror, a plum-colored dress adorning your body. This is the tenth dress you've tried on and to be honest, you feel pretty good in it. Nothing feels itchy, too snug, or out of place. The dress was a simple, strapless sheath dress and it fit you like a glove.

"__." Jungkook taps on the door. "You're not gonna like what I have to say but it's inevitable…there's been a change of plans."

"Okay," you reply with strain. "What is it?" You unlock the door to find your husband glancing down at his phone. It's a text from Jimin, you notice.

"Sorry for this but we're not going out for dinner tonight. Seokjin's daughter isn't feeling well so they're going to stay home. Yoongi also hasn't been able to get much time with his kids and wife lately so he's not coming either." Jungkook continues reading Jimin's text aloud. "I don't think we should go out without the whole party so I'm thinking about canceling our reservations."

Damn.

"You look beautiful," he says, catching your half-disappointed expression. "I'm sorry."

"It's no big deal," you sigh. "We'll eat in." From Jungkook's point of view, you were upset about wasting an hour and a half on shopping. He knew you'd much rather be back with your drawing pencils or watching a drama. He felt bad. The real reason, the one you think best to keep to yourself, however, is that hearing Jimin's text reminded you of Si-woo again. Further, it reminded you that nearly everyone in your friend group had at least one kid except you and Jungkook. Normally it didn't affect you though, so why did it today? Had the little kid from earlier really stuck with you that much?

"__? Everything alright?," Jungkook says. "I know we had plans and we've been shopping for a while but if you like the dress you should still get it. Jimin will have his dinner again and there will be other times you'll need it."

It takes you a moment but you reply, forcing a fake smile the best you can. "Oh yeah, yeah I'm good. I dazed off for a second there. I'll–I'll put the dress back actually."

Seeing through your facade, Jungkook lightly grips your arms. "If there's something you're not telling me I'd like to know, please?"

His endearing facial expression both soothes you and creates coils of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. You want to tell him what's up. You also want to pop the question that you've both been sweeping under the rug for the last two years. But how? Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe you're just in a mood today.

"Have–" You start but the rest of the words don't come out.

Jungkook waits for you to finish the sentence. "Have you thought of any ideas for dinner?" You stutter out. "'Cause I was thinking it’d be easier to order takeout tonight."

Eyes narrowing, your husband stares into your eyes. He's searching for any hint that you're bluffing–shifty eyes and such. You think he's caught onto you until his shoulders relax and eyebrows soften. "I was thinking the same thing. But also, I'm buying you this dress even if you don't. It's gorgeous on you and I know you want it. Now take it off and let's go find something to eat."

You manage to chuckle a "thank you" and slip back into the stall to change into your normal clothes. You feel a slight pang of guilt in your gut for not coming clean to him but you weren't sure if you were ready to tell him the truth no more than he'd be ready to hear it.

“Seriously honey.” Jungkook’s voice carries over the stall. “Are you really alright? Do you need anything?” You swallow hard at his persistence.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you reply. “Maybe a little hungry.” One day at a time __, you think.

You end up placing a dinner order at a local favorite nearby. You and Jungkook take it back to the apartment, curl up on the couch, and put a movie on. You nearly fall asleep after the first forty minutes because the plot is so utterly dry and quite frankly, boring. Jungkook seems to be enjoying it though so the movie plays the entire way through.

Still hardly paying attention, your mind drifts off to other affairs. You think about your upcoming work week, what to get for your best friend's birthday in the following few weeks, and the cute dog you saw yesterday, and of course, you loop back to the same lingering topic–your brief afternoon with Si-woo. Part of you wanted to take him home but Jungkook would have a fit, as well as you know...Si-woo's mother. You snort at how interested you've become in entertaining thoughts about children and taking care of them. As you've covered before, you aren't the mom type.

Si-woo and his mother looked very similar though. They shared the same hair color, eyes, and face shape. You wonder what his father looked. Did he have long hair too? Did he share the same lips? Before you can stop yourself from going further you wonder how identical your own child might be to you and Jungkook. Would your child love the arts like you or the social sciences like your husband? You suppose it could be a blend since you technically have a master's in economics yourself. You'd much rather be owning and operating an art museum or being a studio art professor but that's beside the point. Your child would be free to venture down their own path. That is if you have any.

You shift your eyes to Jungkook who's concentrating heavily on the movie. He's a wonderful husband, you sigh, full of love. No doubt he'd make a great father but did he want to? Jungkook never really mentioned it before and neither did you. When you first start dating you had a brief talk about children and building a family but you were still in school then and Jungkook was swamped with his teaching responsibilities. Children weren't something that either of you felt like you could handle at the time. After you'd gotten married there was an opportunity to discuss it again but you were both quite comfortable with it being just the two of you. Today is the first day you've shown any serious aversion to your comfortable lifestyle–you want a baby.

Once the credit scenes appear Jungkook feels your eyes burn through him from your lounged position. "You're making that face again," he says.

"There's no face."

"Yes there is."

"I don't think so."

Patience running thin, the tone in your husband's voice gets firmer. He's not angry but it's clear his temper is rising. You and Jungkook haven't had a spat in a while and you really don't want to start now. "I can see that there's something on your mind. It's the same one you had from the dressing room and I'm pretty sure it isn't about food this time."

"I don't know what you want me to say," you mumble tiredly. You sit up straight. "My face is my face."

"Honey, I know there's something going on that you're not telling me. Is this about that kid's mother from earlier? Because I'm certain it wasn't personal."

"No, it's not about that at all. It's just been a long week and I'm exhausted," you lie, yawning as if on queue. Jungkook grips the couch arm in agitation. He isn't sure what's going on but he isn't letting you go to bed without getting to the bottom of it.

"You're not having second thoughts about our marriage are you?" He throws the idea out there, hoping its obvious inaccuracy will push you to tell him the truth. You grimace at the guess.

"That's ridiculous!" You sneer. "How could you think that?"

"Well maybe because you're not telling me anything else?" Jungkook tosses his hands up. "I mean who knows, it could be anything. Was it the movie? Shopping? Are you horny? What the fuck is it?!" You jump at his sudden outburst.

"No it's none of those–"

"Look," Jungkook cuts shortly. "Will you just tell me so we can deal with it?!" You throw him a nasty look.

"Just deal with it? Like it's some kind of nuisance of an issue that needs treatment?" You jump up from the couch and head to your bedroom in a fury, your husband hot on your trail.

"I don't mean to be pissing you off, sweetheart but I know something's up." He follows you into the bathroom, watching you reach for your toothbrush. "Can you please slow down and talk to me?" He grabs the toothpaste before you can, forcing you to stop in your tracks. You feel your body starting to shake, eyes tearing up. You friggin' hate fighting and you hate being so unsure about telling him the truth–that you want a family. You're scared of his response most. What if he says no?

Realizing your nervous state, Jungkook takes a deep breath and softens his tone. He hates seeing you cry and he hates it even more when he's the one causing it. "I'm sorry honey." He steps towards you but you flinch away. You're not ready to be touched yet.

"I–I want...I want to be a mom. I want a baby." You wait for your husband's reaction and when it comes you instantly start bawling.

"A baby? What do you mean you want a baby?" Jungkook feels everything inside of him panicking. There's a reason he teaches economics to college students and not high schoolers or below. He doesn't do children, he isn't cut out for it. He'll babysit of his hyung's kids from time to time but at the end of the day, they aren't coming back home with him. Jungkook was sure his wife felt the same way but now? Now she's tearing up in front of him, scared to tell him she wants a child–one that will be his.

Jungkook takes you into his arms, his thumb wipes off some of your tears. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't know. When you came home from the park I didn't realize that little boy meant so much to you." You try blinking back your tears but they keep running down your face. He's being gentle with you and you appreciate that but his choice of words tells you his answer is no. It's quiet, subtle, and cuts like a knife.

You break away from him to splash cold water on your face. The coolness calms your nerves. “He didn’t. Never–never mind what I said, sorry. I’m tired and I’m probably not thinking straight.” You leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook scrambling for his thoughts.

A/N: Lmk what you think, tysm for stopping by 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

2K notes · View notes

cozage · 7 months

Note

Could you do one for Law, Ace, Kid, (maybe Killer) for if they notice you hiding anxiety spells or attacks? This is something I struggle with personally because of feeling like a burden. A lot better than when I was a teenager but I still struggle with this at almost 21 😅

Characters: gn reader x Law, Ace, Kid Cw: panic attacks Total word count: 650

Hiding Panic Attacks

Law

Law would notice it right away. He notices because he’s familiar with the symptoms.

He gets it. Because big crowds, loud and sudden noises, the random onset of your heart beating so fast you think it’s going to beat right out of your chest? They aren’t foreign feelings to him.

Sometimes he notices it before you do. He’s so in tune to you and your body that he can sense when you stiffen slightly, or when you start to stare off into nothing.

Sometimes, if you’re just disassociating, he lets you be. He knows that social settings can be overwhelming for you, and sometimes you need a mental break. If the crew asks you a question, he answers it for you. Eventually the crew learns to just let you be when you start to “zone off” like that.

But when you start to antsy and fidgeting, he instantly removes you from the situation. He’ll grab your hand and ground you, and lead you away from the noise and the people to a quiet space for you to relax and breathe for a moment.

Usually he’s on top of it and gets to you before you’re in full blown panic mode. But if not, he’ll walk you through a grounding technique and stay with you until you’re okay again.

Ace

Listen…Ace is pretty dumb. He’s the life of the party. He lives for the action and excitement of the world.

So he doesn’t get why you always go to bed early or leave at random times. Not until Marco explains it to him.

And that’s when he realizes that HE has panic attacks too. He just thought it was something only he experienced and was a weird random thing. But now he realizes a lot of people experience it. You experience it.

Suddenly, Portgas D. Ace isn’t the life of the party anymore. Sure, he gets it going. But he keeps you close to him, and when he sees you start to mentally check out, he says goodnight to everyone and takes you to bed.

He ignores the jeering from people talking about how whipped he is now. “Sorry fellas,” he’ll laugh. “I know you’re jealous, but I only belong to one person.”

When it’s just the two of you alone, he’ll give you whatever you need. Space, cuddles, massage, shower, etc. You name it, he’ll do it.

Kid

Kid doesn’t get it. But he can see you’re distraught. He’s just not sure why.

“What’s going on?” he’ll ask. “You look mad.”

Even though you assure him everything is fine, he doesn’t buy it. Something is up with you, and he can’t help but feel like you’re hiding something from him. You look so nervous.

He offers to take you to a quiet space, to which you reluctantly agree. You never wanted to cause problems for anyone.

He makes you talk to him. He tilts your chin up so you can look him in the eye. He can tell you’re jumpy, which is strange considering all the times you tell him how safe you feel with him. A part of him is a little hurt. Until you explain it, and he realizes you’re not scared. You’re just having an anxiety attack.

Once he realizes that, he bundles you up into his arms and he takes you to bed. He covers you with kisses and tells you stories, weaving his hands through your hair to keep you in the moment with him.

He makes sure to keep your breathing steady, and he will even talk in a rhythmic way to encourage your breathing to slow down if you start to get too panicked. He’ll always be there for you, and he’s determined to prove that to you.

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rafescurtainbangz · 13 days

Text

Peach Part 1 of 2 (Rafe Cameron Two Shot) +18

Minor DNI

This was a little prompt from a conversation between @drewstarkeyslut @rafesthroatbaby and I

This was supposed to be a part of @xxbimbobunnyxx and @babygorewhore writing game but apparently, I can't read lmaoooo. I thought daycryphilia was somnophilia...

Spoilers: somnophilia (lol), secluded yet public oral, cheating, swearing, degradation, name-calling, pet names, oral (fem. receiving), oral (male receiving), ownership kink, reader's a sugar baby, rough sex, nipple play, choking, creampie, & cum play, no use of y/n but everyone refers to her as the pet name Peach, softish rafe but he's kinda mean here and there

*text messages & brief ai voice (for a voicemail)

unedited

Masterlist

College!Rafe x Ward's Sugar Baby (female reader)

Word of warning, if you hate the use of "daddy", stop while you're ahead. You'll hate this. 😂

Reader’s POV:

“I mean it is a little much for Midsommers, Peach, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Ward gives you a cheeky smile as he unwinds a little more on the dressing room couch, eyes combing over your curves from the reflection of the mirror. “I love dressing you up, princess. Love showing off my little doll around the fellas. Can you blame me? You're flawless.” He winks and smiles as he lifts his champagne flute to his lips, taking a sip.

“Thank you. I love it,” you praise, running your hands down the delicate black satin, purposely running over the fullness of your breasts, guiding his focus off your eyes. “I think this will go really well with those black Jimmy Choo pumps you bought me.”

Ward smiles and shakes his head ‘no’ as he crosses his strong arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m going let you re-wear a pair of date night heels, baby? We need to buy you somethin’ new. You deserve it. Very sweet for you to be mindful of Daddy’s pocket,” he lauds as he taps the wallet tucked into the pocket of his designer blazer. “That’s just one of the many, many reasons you have my heart, sugar,” Ward mumbles as he rises to his feet, eyes trained on your body. “That, and the fact that I just can't believe you're mine,” he mumbles before his lips meet your neck, kissing gently as he works his way to your ear. “I love takin’ care of you.” You tip your head slightly, resting your cheek against his, the two of you matching each other's gaze in the mirror.

“We look good together, Cameron,” you coo. He wraps his arms around you, kissing your bare shoulder before resting his chin on top.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, Peach. This looks so pretty on you. You're stunning. You probably need something just as pretty underneath. Don’t you agree?”

You nuzzle into his cheek, making him chuckle warmly. “You spoil me, daddy… Of course, I agree. Something pretty you can take off me later,” you flirt, just stoking the fire.

“Baby girl...” He gushes, the apples of his cheeks reddening.

“Sorry… I can't help it.”

“No, baby. I love it. Oh, I booked a hair and nail appointment for you, so I won't see you until you arrive. I have to be at the Island Club a little early. You can just catch a ride with Rafe. I’ll meet you at the car and we can walk in together. Alright?”

You fix your face, trying your best to seem unfazed by even the mere mention of his son’s name.

Rafe Cameron…

Truthfully, I was about to make my move during parents’ weekend. Then, I laid eyes on Ward. Rafe’s old man… handsome, sweet, thoughtful. It was too hard to pass up the chance to be taken care of. And, taken care of I was. Student loan debt canceled, school-year paid in cash, trips, lavish dinners, anything and everything his little Peach wants she gets. But even with all of that, I can't help but be drawn to Rafe. I still get butterflies when he passes me on his way to class or when he looks my way in the library.

Even after I got with Ward I’d still try to finagle my way into staying on campus for the weekend so I could hit up a house party or bump into him at the bar. Ward made sure that didn't happen, pleading with me to spend most of my free time at Tanneyhill. Ward is so sweet when he begs. And, how can I possibly deny the man cutting the checks?

“Peach? Is that okay? He seemed pretty happy about getting to know you a little better,” Ward smiles as he fixes the strap of your gown.

“No, Daddy. It’s perfect.”

You look down at the vanity, watching your phone buzz. Your heart skips a beat as you see his name written across it, causing the usual butterflies to swirl. How would this play out? What would Rafe say?

To the rest of the family I was just some girl; maybe someone Ward picked up at the country club or some overpriced boutique downtown. Sarah and Wheezie were too unbothered to care. How would Rafe take this? Would he even recognize me?

The buzzing stops, pulling you out of your daze as you watch the incoming call shift to missed. Shit. Headlights beam outside as Rafe’s large truck rolls up the drive just as your phone dings. Voicemail - Rafe Cameron You lift the phone to your ear, hearing that familiar voice.

You look down at your body, wrapped in a pretty pink robe; dress still hanging up in the corner of Ward’s room. It had been a long day of shopping and pampering, leaving you late. The muffled sound of Rafe’s truck door kickstarts your heart. You unfasten the bow around your waist, letting the material fall off your body and onto a puddle on the floor as you hustle toward your gown.

You step into the number, stumbling slightly; looping the delicate straps over your shoulders before smoothing out the front.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Umm… One second, Rafe,” you call.

“Of course.” You hear his deep voice in person, making you suck in a nervous breath. Reaching behind your back you struggle for the zipper, craning your wrist to get it to close. “Uhh… You need some help in there?” Rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you stand in front of the mirror again, looking back at yourself dumbly.

Of course, I want his help. I’m sure if I struggle a little more I could get it to word. But do I want to?

“Rafe,” you call out his name, voice broken with nervousness. “I could use your help.”

Rafe's POV:

What the actual fuck. I stand behind her, eyes falling down the length of her bare back to her open zipper. Nothing but soft skin and satin; the small zipper resting just below her g-string. I’ve gotta move slowly. No way I could step out from behind her like this. My hard-on pushes against my dress pants, straining the zipper. I let my fingers trail her skin ever so slightly, tugging the material together reluctantly before pulling it closed.

I had no idea it was going to be her when she accepted my offer… Lucky me.

“How are you, sweetheart,” I mumble from behind her, catching her gaze in the mirror.

“Umm… I’m good. How are you?” She asks sweetly.

“Great. I’m fine,” I hum, not moving from my place behind her, ambling a little closer. I can’t fucking help myself. Her lashes flutter at the closeness between the two of us. “Just came from campus.”

“Yeah? Umm… We go to the same school,” she starts, like I wasn’t painfully aware.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do. I know exactly who you are. And you and my dad are-”

“Dating?” She answers, her calm demeanor veiling her shame, just a sliver of it still peeking through. “No. We’re friends? Companions… I-”

I let out a raspy chuckle, saving her the strain as she flounder in front of me, panic painting her beautiful face. “Nah, Peach. I understand,” I smirk. She lifts her eyebrow, letting out an airy laugh herself. “He’s battin’ way out of his league with you. I must say.”

I lean in a little closer, letting the warmth of my voice fan across the column of her neck, making her head fall back slightly as she tilts closer. My large hands rest on her hips, all my primal urges pushing me to bend her over, hands on the glass, dress around her hips, my fat cock fucking in and out as I watch her go absolutely dumb on my dick. But I resist.

Why the fuck are you with Ward? You’re too beautiful... You're only wasting your time with my old man. What is he givin’ you that I can’t? Money? Is that what you’re after, babydoll?

Good thing I have that too.

“Nice to see you, man,” Kelce smiles as he pulls me in for a half-hug, cutting off my view of her. I pull him to the side, giving me the perfect sightline.

Fuck, she’s arm candy - the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he's lovin’ every second of the attention he's pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation.

She looks down, eyeing her clutch as she feels the rumble of her phone. Her eyes lift, catching mine like she knows exactly what’s to come, without seeing the message at all. I give her a knowing nod as I stroll away.

In a room full of people she knows just where I am. She's got her eye on me. Atta girl.

Reader’s POV

Well… if there was any question if that text was from Rafe or not that nod answered my question. My excitement leaves a steady pulse between my thighs as I try my best to act normally. He's trying to get me alone.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” you whisper in Ward’s ear, kissing him gently on the cheek before wiping some sparkly gloss off his stubble. He gives you a little pat on your bum and a wink.

“Gonna finish up this conversation, Peach, and I’ll find you. M’Kay?” He hums. “15 minutes tops.”

“Of course,” you smile, nodding quickly before excusing yourself, nabbing out your phone as you step toward where Rafe was headed, rushing to read what he had to say.

Holy shit.

Your phone glows as you reread the text messages sent by Rafe wandering down the hallway as you take in each word, considering your options. Am I doing this? Should I turn him down? Let him know he read this all wrong? That he's overstepping-

“There she is,” you hear his low voice from behind you. His large hand wraps around your arm, tugging you back fast, pulling you into the dark room before slamming the lock shut.

“Rafe?” You gasp just as his lips collide with yours, the two of you running high on adrenaline; teeth clashing, tongues rolling. Your long nails scratch through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him moan into your kiss as he backs you against the wooden door.

“Didn’t even take any convincing to get you back here, baby girl. What do you have to say for yourself?” He mumbles against your lips as he paws for the bottom of your dress, bunching it up higher and higher.

“Rafe. I-”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, princess. You want me. I need you. Bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me. You gonna let me check?” He rasps, catching your moans between his lips.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want,” he taunts as his lips brush yours, his rough fingers grazing the soaked spot on your panties.

“I want you, Rafe. I want your… Fuck. I want your fingers,” you whimper, starting small, knowing full-well he’ll talk you into more; just making yourself feel less guilty about the whole ordeal by asking for the bare minimum like that even matters.

“Just my fingers. Huh?” He teases. Not buying the angelic ruse for a moment. “You don’t want my lips, doll? You don’t need my cock?”

“Shit,” you whine as your legs draw together; his filthy words fillling you ear, drunk off the taste of his lips, just thinking about more. Rafe grips your thighs, opening you up further before pressing his fingers against your sex. Your head falls back, knocking softly against the door as a drawn-out moan tumbles from your lips.

"Did that get you a little excited?" He chuckles, darkly against your neck, licking and nipping at that special spot that has you whimpering like a pathetic slut.

"Yeah."

“Yeah, what?”

“I got excited, Rafe… I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you whisper.

“Mhmm… Haven’t stopped thinking about me and my fingers?” He bullies as he lifts you into his arms. You wrap yours around his neck, lessening the space between you further, your wetness surely transferring onto his white button-down as your legs wrap around his trim waist.

“Yeah,” you stammer, making Rafe suck his teeth and smile against your mouth.

“Stop trying to be a good girl, princess. I know what you are,” he growls. Your heart falls, breaking slightly as he hits you with the truth; Rafe opening his mouth before you can even defend yourself. “You want money… I want you. I can take care of you in more ways than one. I promise that. Got more money than him. I’m a better fuck. Let me prove it to you, angel. I know you’re a slut for cash alright. So am I. The game sees the game alright? But, you probably need proof… Let me fuck this pretty pussy, ma. Show you how much better off you’ll be with me. I wanna be your daddy. Aight? Not him. Not Ward. Rafe.”

You draw a deep breath, head spinning as he lays you back on the locker room couch. You claw for him, desperate for Rafe’s lips on you again. Rafe rips away your little lace panties, spreading your thighs before eyeing your glistening slit with a hungry groan. "Tell me what you want. You can speak. Can’t you?” He snaps impatiently as you fumble over your words. “Words.”

“You-”

“Fuck it. I can't wait - need your pussy.”

"S-Shit," you whine. “Just - Just your fingers Rafe…” He brushes your dripping folds with his thick digits, gathering your essence before stuffing them in his mouth, sucking them clean as his eyes roll back. "Let me eat you, baby. C’mon,” he pleads. You watch him wet his bottom lip, savoring the taste of whatever's left of you.

“Damnit, Rafe. Your lips too… Fuck. Hurry. Your dad’s meeting me soon.”

“Little now. Little later,” he huffs as his strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, lowering you onto the cushion. Rafe’s gaze stays on yours as his lips latch on your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side.

He moans against your cunt as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing you with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him. "Enough of that," he slurs, spreading your legs wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more muscle. “Can't wait for you to suck my cock. Can't wait to get you off," he mumbles against your heat. You look toward the door, watching a shadow pass underneath. The music blares from behind it. Is it loud enough? You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.

"You taste like heaven, honey," he pants, bumping his nose against your clit as his tongue dips into your hole. Rafe grabs your legs, slinging them over his broad shoulders, getting even closer. He laps at your pussy, devouring you. Rafe breathes deeply, taking in your scent, eyes shutting softly, the vibration of a moan felt against your cunt. He takes your clit in his mouth sucking hard, making you cry out, spiked heels digging into his strong back as you buck your hips.

"Fuck, Rafe. M'right there," you blubber. You reach for your dress straps, tugging down the top, letting your tits bounce free. Your hands instantly draw up to your chest, clutching and pushing them together. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit, making you toss your head back. Strangled cries spills from your lips. Your hands drop down, weaving into his blonde fringe giving it a rough tug as you grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself wavering on the edge of bliss.

“Peach?” You hear Ward call from outside the door, making your eyes double in horror. Rafe doesn’t stop, increasing his pace even. His eyes flick to yours, solidifying the evident. He wants Ward to hear. Your hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your cries. Rafe reaches up, snatching your wrist as your body betrays you, eyes screwing shut at you cum on Rafe’s tongue, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you're fully relaxed to release you with a panting breath. His mouth greets yours in a passionate kiss, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He pinches and rolls your nipples between his rough fingers before sucking down; trailing sweet kisses causing you to mewl.

"You're mine," Rafe whispers, nestling himself into your neck.

“Not… Fuck. Rafe, I’m not.”

“You are. Stop lyin’, princess. You know you are,” he subsists as he matches your eyes. “Lie to me and tell me that wasn’t the best you’ve ever had. I didn't even use my dick, baby. Imagine what I could do. Huh? I know my old man isn’t doin’ any of this shit better than me.” You fight for air, looking away for a moment before he grabs your chin, demanding your focus. “Fuckin’ talk to me. Use those pretty little words that you're holdin’ back. Enough with the games. It was painfully easy to get you in here. I know what you want-”

“Rafe… I don’t know-” Your phone vibrates, stealing your attention as well as Rafe’s as you watch back-to-back text messages come in from Ward.

Part 2 💕

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praisethegabs · 7 months

Text

HOME

Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

synopsis: starting a family right after the incident that ended Raccoon City wasn't in your or Leon's plans, but destiny decided to bless you two with twins. Now married and with two kids to raise, life can't be better. Leon finally seems to be healing and moving on, until his job starts to take a toll on him. Again.

warnings: angst (again) with happy ending, mentions of traumas, nightmares, sub!leon and soft dom!wife, mentions of: ptsd, crying during sex, soft smut, p in v, hand job, praise kink, use of pet names. both oc's named olivia and jake as the twins.

word count: 7k

a/n: istg i needed to write something like this. idk why, but the idea felt so great... i like to imagine what was like for leon if he had kids and a normal life, so this is what i got. enjoy it, fellas

"show me the most damaged parts of your soul, and I will show you how it still shines like gold," nikita gill

Starting a family wasn't something you thought about in your early 20s.

But then, Leon Kennedy entered your life. You both met before Raccoon City, and you couldn't help but fall in love with those innocent baby blue eyes. At first, Leon was full of energy, completely eager and enthusiastic about his new job as a cop. You both thought that moving to Raccoon City was a good idea, and you were both happy.

You had just started a new job as an intern journalist, and it was the perfect opportunity for you since you were almost done with college. As for Leon, he graduated from the police academy and was ready to serve. For two individuals in their early 20s, it was the perfect opportunity.

Life can be weird at times.

You both never got the chance to do what you wanted. Raccoon City was in chaos with numerous casualties, and Leon came close to death while battling the Tyrant known as Mr. X. Somehow, amidst all the chaos, you managed to befriend Claire Redfield, a teenager who was searching for her older brother. Together, the three of you managed to survive that night, even rescuing a little girl named Sherry. What happened afterwards were mere consequences.

You knew from the start that Leon was an orphan, and that he was rescued by a cop after his entire family was killed. This is why he helped Claire keep Sherry safe. However, even after that living nightmare ended, the government decided to "ask" Leon to join them. He never told you what happened afterward. He never explained why he had to attend this six-month training camp.

But he was acting differently. Sure, you couldn’t blame him for being distant.

What happened that night traumatized him. He was shot in the shoulder and pursued by Mr. X, narrowly escaping death. You were with Claire most of the time because Leon thought you would be safe with her. He never told you exactly what happened, but you knew him. He changed.

Sometimes, he would wake up screaming, scared, and desperately searching for you, just to ensure your safety and well-being. You would calm him down, talk to him, and help him understand that you are safe and that nothing is real. In the mornings, you would wake him up with breakfast in bed and tend to his wound - which later turned out to be a scar. It was a sorrowful memento of that evening.

Two weeks before Leon left the house, you discovered that you were expecting a baby.

This wasn't exactly what you both wanted, and at first, Leon was mesmerized by the idea of becoming a father, but he was also very scared. Suddenly, he wanted to be at home with you instead of going to this training camp, just like you wanted him to stay. But Leon didn't have a choice. You watched him leave, and something inside your chest told you that this would be the last time you would see this version of Leon, the rookie cop you had fallen in love with.

When he returned home, he was bigger than you had remembered.

His muscles had doubled in size, and he was much stronger, completely different from when he left. His eyes, however, remained the same. It was your Leon, the same man you had met before the apocalypse. When he saw your baby bump and realized it was his child inside, he cried. You had a baby shower, but you didn't know the gender of your baby - you wanted Leon to be a part of everything. So, one week after he returned home, the two of you got married in a beautiful, intimate, and small ceremony. Claire and Chris were in attendance - Chris being Claire's older brother - and you and Leon quickly became friends with him.

Your family lived in another country, and you had no contact with them. You were on your own, and you were glad to have him by your side.

At the end of the year, your twins were born, and Leon was there to witness the childbirth. His eyes were shining just like they did when you both first met. Her name was Olivia. Leon loved that name, and she had her father's eyes and the same blond hair. The other twin was named Jake, and he had your hair and Leon's eyes. Both Olivia and Jake were copies of Leon, and he was proud of them. After the first few weeks, he took care of all the chores around the house and looked after you, Olivia, and Jake. He always said, "You shouldn't worry about that anymore."

But sometimes, he was very scared of someone trying to hurt the three of you. So, he asked to move somewhere else, and suddenly, you didn't have to worry about work or money anymore. He provided everything you needed, and he would move mountains to ensure the security of his loved ones.

The year was now 2002.

He had to leave for a mission with Major Jack Krauser. You stayed at home with your twins and were aided by Claire because they would cause you a lot of trouble. Of course, Leon's job was dangerous, but he always managed to call you and the kids. He never used his ring while on duty and had no pictures of his family with him, afraid that someone would find them and harm the babies. You can be sure that no one at the agency knew he was married and a father of two.

To be honest, you didn't care. You knew that after the incident in Raccoon City, your family meant everything to him, and he would do whatever it took to keep all of you safe. Leon was broken inside, but now he had found a new sense of purpose. He loved all three of you more than anything in the world, and when he returned from the operation, he embraced the twins and showered all of you with affection. Something happened there, but you decided not to ask.

For the twins' 4th birthday, you set a small party for a few friends.

Claire and Chris were there, as always, along with a few of your friends. The barbecue was filled with love and happiness, and yet, you noticed Leon's eyes shining once more. A little reminder that life could be peaceful sometimes, without the horrors of one's job. You would look at him, with all his glorious features kissed by the sun. The way his eyes shine with happiness. He was so beautiful. You felt so lucky.

Olivia was definitely her dad's girl. She loved running into his arms and staying there. She loved it when Leon played with her or bathed her. Jake, however, was more of a momma's boy. Of course, he loved being with his father, but he preferred being with you. They used to sleep together and be each other's best friends until that day arrived.

They were growing up, and now they wanted separate rooms. They would fight sometimes, and Leon was always the reasonable person who would calm them both. He would always talk to them instead of doing something else, and occasionally, on very rare occasions, he would ground the twins.

You knew that your husband was happy with his life. It made him forget about Raccoon City. It helped him heal.

Things couldn't be better for your family. The twins were at school. You finally had time for yourself and Leon. Sex was incredible, and occasionally, you would send the children to Claire's so you could reaffirm your connection with your husband. Leon was very submissive, and you enjoyed being in control, making him beg like the obedient boy he was. You ruined him so deeply that you were certain he would never forget it. Even with two children, you still had the power to touch him and drive him crazy.

Until 2004.

“The president's daughter?" you asked him when he dropped the news about his new assignment. "In Spain?"

"Yes, honey. The president doesn't want anyone to know... that's why I'm going alone," Leon sighed, holding your hands. "But I promise I'll be back before you even have a chance to miss me."

"I already miss you," you muttered, which made him smile. His thumb gently pressed against your lips, while his hand firmly held your chin, compelling you to meet his gaze.

"You know I love you more than anything in this world, right?" Leon asked, his voice smooth, husky, and caring. You nodded in response. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Well, you better tell the twins. Good luck, Liv is not in the mood today," you said, playfully tapping his shoulder, which caused him to furrow his eyebrows.

"Oh, come on, honey... this is unfair!" Leon protested, but then he laughed, following you to the living room. He called the twins, and Olivia was already sitting on his lap. "Okay, Daddy's gotta go for a few days to fight the bad guys. Behave and don't get into trouble with your mom, or I'll be the one in trouble, okay?"

"Fight the bad guys?" Liv asked, facing her dad while clutching her favorite teddy bear.

"Yes, sweetheart. They need Daddy to fight the bad guys again. There's someone who needs help," Leon explained calmly, while cradling Olivia in his lap.

"Will you be safe?" Jake asked, as he went to sit with his sister on Leon's lap, hugging his dad.

"Always, pumpkin. When I get back home, I promise I'll take a few days off so we can all be together, okay?" Leon smiled at his son.

"Please, get back home safely, Daddy," Olivia said, burying her face in his neck. Her words brought a smile to his face as he hugged the twins.

You had your twins in your arms as the three of you watched Leon leave in the black SUV. As soon as you closed the door, you activated the non-negotiable security system. Leon needed to be sure that you would be safe with the kids, and you knew very well that he wouldn't be able to focus on his job if he had to worry about his family's safety.

"Why does Daddy have to go, Mommy?" Olivia asked, her eyes shining with tears.

"It's his job, sweetie." Sometimes, Daddy needs to save people so he can keep us safe too," you tried to explain in the best way you could. After all, they were only six years old.

"But what if we need him, Mommy?" Jake asked. You touched the tip of his nose, smiling.

"Well, mommy can protect both of you from the bad guys... and we also have Uncle Chris and Auntie Claire who can help if I need assistance," you reassured your twins with a soothing tone of voice.

"I miss him already," Olivia cried, and then you hugged her tightly.

“I know, baby. Mommy misses him too”

It was the middle of the night when you heard someone deactivating the security system and unlocking the door. After three distinct knocks, you knew exactly who it was.

Leon was tired, distressed, and angry all at once. His clothes were dirty, and he felt quite miserable. His entire body was aching, and he couldn't wait to fall asleep in your bed, holding you in his arms. You, on the other hand, turned on the lights in your room and went immediately to meet him.

The moment Leon saw you, he immediately embraced you, his face completely buried in your neck, sending shivers down your spine, despite the difference in height. Your fingers ran through his tousled blonde hair, and for minutes, words were unnecessary. The way he was holding you in his arms made you think that something really bad had happened in Spain.

"Shh, it's okay... you're home, baby," you whispered in his ear, providing some comfort.

"I'm so sorry," Leon said, his voice breaking.

The last time you saw him so fragile, on the verge of tears, was after the incident in Raccoon City. Witnessing him in that state once more filled you with fear. Right after he apologized, for reasons unknown, he started sobbing and crying on your shoulder. Something was not right.

It took 40 long minutes until Leon finally calmed down. Meanwhile, you kept hugging him and reassuring him with calm words that everything was fine and he was safe at home with you. You gently stroked his hair and often traced circles on his back with your finger.

"I never told you why I left... or why I am doing this job," Leon said vaguely, his eyes focused on something else.

"Why does this matter now, baby?" you raised your eyebrow, sitting next to him on the sofa.

"It was because of Sherry. Remember that when Claire left to find her brother, and we attempted to locate a rescue but ended up in that government facility?" Leon asked, his gaze still fixed on something else.

The memory was still fresh in your mind. They kept you away from Leon, but they never told you why. After six years, you would have the answers to this issue.

"That day, they started questioning me, and because I possessed the skills they were seeking, they expressed their desire for me to join them. I only managed to get us out of there because of that," Leon says, his eyes cast downward as if he were ashamed. "But the thing is... they never asked me to join them."

You raised your eyebrows again, confused by his sudden revelation. You knew from the beginning that something - or someone - was being used to make him stay. He finally looks at you, his eyes shining with tears once more.

"They forced me. They said they would kill us if I didn't say yes... and I had no other choice. I asked them to leave you out of this, and I would work for them... I just wanted to keep you safe," Leon sobs again, burying his face in his hands, his voice cracking. "But this last mission... God... the things I saw and did..."

You decided to let him vent. Whatever happened, there was enough to break the wall that Leon had built over the past six years. He was finally allowing himself to feel his emotions, and you wouldn't interrupt him.

"These villagers, they were insane. Controlled by a parasite called Las Plagas, they transformed into monstrous creatures, their heads exploding and their forms becoming grotesque." Leon continued to sob, as the memories of the events in Spain flooded back into his mind. "The cult leader also infected me. He almost turned me into his pet, using the plaga inside me to torture and control my body and mind."

And then, he sobbed again. Seeing your husband hurt like that breaks your heart. Since Raccoon City, you have always been the tough one. You never showed any signs of sadness or trauma because you knew Leon needed your support. Eventually, what happened there stays in the past. But for him, it was completely different.

Gently, you embraced him once more, his head resting on your neck and his breath caressing your skin gently. You felt his warm tears on your robe, but this wasn't something that you cared about at the moment.

"I can't fall asleep... I keep seeing those things over and over again. I see Saddler, Mendez, Salazar, and Krauser," Leon sobs one more time, holding you tightly in his arms. You raised your eyebrows, surprised to hear that name after all these years. "He didn't die. He kidnapped Ashley. He was working for them. I had to fight him, I had to kill him."

"Sweetheart, none of this is your fault," you whispered, trying to calm him once more. Your words were full of assurance.

"He tried to kill Luis and me. I felt so betrayed. I thought he had died two years ago... but he was working for Saddler. He died because of power, something so stupid," Leon said, his eyes closed as he replayed everything in his head. "I just can't believe it. I thought it could be different..."

"Well, you brought Ashley home safely. You did it, and then you managed to come home for us too," you smiled kindly, using your thumb to wipe the tears from his face. "You're here with us, safe and sound again."

"I'm so tired, baby," Leon whispered to you, his eyes still closed as he started to calm down again. "It is always the same bullshit”

"I know," you said, taking a deep breath. "But I'm here, and nothing will hurt you."

You noticed a slight smirk on his lips, and both of you remained there for a while.

You knew that his missions left him stressed and tired. Sometimes he would be gone for weeks, and it always made you anxious because you were scared he wouldn't come back. But you knew Leon better than anyone else. He would always come home.

"Daddy!" "Daddy!" Olivia jumped into his arms when she saw him in the kitchen in the morning.

"Good morning, princess," Leon chuckled, holding her in his strong embrace. "Someone missed me, huh?"

"Where's Jake?" you asked Olivia, noticing that her brother didn't come downstairs for breakfast.

"He's in his room, Mommy," Olivia said, hugging Leon tightly. "I told him to come down and see Daddy, but he didn't want to."

"Ok, I'll take care of it," Leon sighs, gently placing Olivia on the ground and kissing you on the forehead.

You smiled and nodded your head. As Leon went to Jake's room, your daughter helped you prepare breakfast. Gently, Leon knocked on Jake's door before entering. He saw his little boy lying on his bed, with his eyes closed. His room was filled with blue adhesive posters, scattered bears, and toys.

"Hey, big boy. What happened?” Leon asked, sitting on the edge of Jake's bed, with his hand on his son's shoulder.

"I had a bad dream," Jake whispered, trying to hide under the blankets.

"A bad dream? Wanna talk about it?" Leon asked again, gently holding Jake's hand and stroking his hair.

"I saw a man hurting you, Daddy... I felt it too," his baby blue eyes then shined with tears.

"Well, Daddy's back home safe and sound, you see? There's nothing to be worried about, okay? While I'm here, no one will hurt you," Leon smiled, his voice calm and soft, as always. "Now, let's go eat breakfast, or your mom will definitely ground us."

Jake nodded smiling and Leon lifted him onto his shoulders. They walked downstairs together for breakfast, with Leon carrying his child. He placed Jake in the chair, sitting between the twins. Olivia and Jake enjoyed their pancakes with juice, while you and Leon had your favorite meal. Such a warm way to welcome him home.

"Daddy, I did something for you," Olivia said. Then, she ran to the living room and returned with a piece of paper. "I was waiting for you to come back."

"This is so beautiful, princess. I loved it," Leon smiled, as he observed the drawing she made of the family. "Thank you, baby girl."

"Jake drew too," you said, noticing that Jake was away. He seemed sad. "Right, baby?"

"Yes, I did," he nodded, then he ate another slice of his pancake. Your shared glance with Leon conveyed what words couldn't.

A few hours later, Olivia and Jake were playing in the garden, while Leon and you were casually lying on the sofa, watching the twins from the window. He was between your legs, and your fingers were gently running through his disheveled hair. His breath was calm, and he appeared tired, but at least he managed to sleep for the rest of the night.

"I'm worried about him," you sighed to Leon, your eyes locked on Jake as he played with his sister.

"Do you think we need therapy?" Leon's eyes met yours as he lifted his head to get a better view.

"I think he misses you, Lee. Let's be honest, Olivia is like your baby girl, and I think Jake feels that you give her too much attention," you said, analyzing the two.

"Right, babe. I'll fix that, I promise," Leon smirks, passionately kissing your hand.

"Take him to a boys' day or something. I'm sure he'll love spending some time with his dad," you suggested, smiling and leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"Alright, I promise I'll spend some time with Jake. I don't want to miss anything," Leon smiled again, then he leaned in to kiss you.

"Ew, that's disgusting!" Olivia shouted. Then, you glanced at your daughter and smiled mischievously at Leon. Both of you then ran after Jake and Olivia, giving them each a kiss.

2006 was a terrible year.

You knew that someday you would have to explain to the twins the true nature of Leon's job. You thought you would have time for it. Instead, his job decided to rush things, and now you have to deal with it alone.

Leon had gone to investigate something in China, and for some reason, you felt uncomfortable with the idea. Since his mission to Spain, he has completely changed again. Of course, you loved spending more time with him, and the twins loved the idea as well, but he seemed a little sad. Every time you tried to talk and understand what was going on, he would shut himself off and change the subject.

Just like what happened after the incident in Raccoon City.

You were at home when you heard about a submarine exploding and rumors circulating about the Chinese being behind the attack. The last time you had actually spoken to Leon, he was on his way to catch a submarine. Your heart sank at the possibility of him being killed, but somehow, you decided to remain positive. Leon would never leave you alone; he always finds a way to come back home.

But then, just as you were about to tell the twins, Leon returned.

This was the first time you had a fight with him. You needed to tell him how distant he was and the fact that he almost died made you freak out. He needed to open his eyes because he had been away from home since Spain, and you were trying everything in your power to make him see what he was losing.

And right after the fight, Leon attempted to reconcile and make amends.

He was more present at home, spending more time with you and the children. He was being more passionate and caring than ever before, treating you in the best way he could. Even so, he still had nightmares. One night, he woke up abruptly, his face and chest drenched in sweat, his breath labored, and his eyes filled with fear and panic.

"Babe, I'm here. It's okay, it wasn't real. It was only a bad dream," you said soothingly, hugging him tightly and stroking his hair to provide comfort.

"Shit... I-I can't sleep," he muttered, trying to catch his breath. He was very scared.

"Take a few deep breaths with me," you said, placing your hand on his chest and feeling his rapid heartbeat. Leon held your hand for support, to confirm that it was indeed real.

He never told you what his nightmare was about. You attempted to engage in conversation with him, but he mentioned something about terror and fear, implying that it would be better to avoid discussing it. Eventually, after a few weeks, he told you about Jason and what had happened in China. If Jason wanted to scare him, he successfully did that.

You hated Jason more than ever.

After the events of the Eastern Slav Civil War in 2011, Leon decided to quit USSTRATCOM for good. He told you what happened there and expressed his disgust towards the current government. He expressed his anger and stress by fucking you forcefully. Thankfully, the twins were at Claire's, so they couldn't hear your pornographic moans.

Now, he was working for DSO, and he seemed happy.

It was a very peculiar routine. Leon was called during a family quality time and was gone for weeks. When he returned, he would be exhausted to the core, stressed, and angry. The only way to relieve his tension was by using your gentle touch.

Jake and Olivia were at an age where they enjoyed spending time with friends. You didn't mind letting Olivia go to her best friend's house for a sleepover while Jake had fun with his own group. And when you had the house all to yourself, Leon would not only find a good massage but also the perfect stress relief.

"Beg to come, my good boy," you teased, slowing down your hands on his erect penis.

"P-please... let me cum, please,” he moaned so loudly that you knew your neighbors would hear him pleading with you. "F-fuck, I can't take it anymore."

"Again," you demanded, smiling teasingly as you continued to move your hand slowly. You watched as he desperately tried to find some friction, lifting his hips into your hand.

"Please, let me cum, babe,” he whined aloud, tears streaming down his cheeks as he gripped the sheets beneath him, burying his head in the pillow and closing his eyes. “Pleasepleaseplease I'll be your good boy.”

"The light is green," you whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe. With the trigger words, Leon released himself into your hands, emitting a loud moan that left you satisfied with your performance. His body jerks with the sudden release of pleasure, and he tries to catch his breath again.

“I love you,” he says.

It was 2013, and you were at home, focusing on your paperwork for DSO since your children were teenagers, and you had time to work again. Jake was at soccer practice, Olivia was with her friends at the theater extra class, and you were alone with Cookie, the stray black and white cat that Leon adopted a few months ago.

Suddenly, you heard the news about President Benford being killed. At the same time, someone called you. It was Hunnigan.

She told you Leon was accused of killing the president while on a mission with Helena Harper from the CIA, and he was apparently MIA. You fell onto the couch, your heart beating faster inside your chest. You knew Leon would never betray his own country like that. Not only that, but you knew him better than anyone else. You knew what was about to happen. Immediately, you went to pick up the twins, driving them home in such a hurry that they didn’t understand what was going on.

“Mom, is there something wrong with dad?” Jake asked, checking his phone with a worried expression. “The president died? Is all over the news”

“I’ll explain when we get back home” You sighed heavily, your heart beating faster and your hands shaking completely.

“Is he okay?” Olivia glanced at you, trying to find any assurance. In response, you just bite your lip.

You said nothing. When you parked in front of your house, you took the twins inside in such a hurry that they started to get anxious. They could definitely tell something was wrong. You closed the curtains and checked the entire place, and when you found nothing, you finally relaxed.

“Your dad went on a meeting with the president earlier, but I don’t know what went wrong, but he had to kill the president,” you finally said, after sitting with the twins on the sofa. Olivia gasped in shock as Jake remained with his Stoic expression, just like his father. “And at the moment, he’s missing in action”

If you could protect your children from the truth and the whole world, you would without hesitation. The look of sadness on their faces, the way they leaned in for your support — it all broke your heart. Olivia was crying quietly, Jake was in shock, and once more, it was your responsibility to be the tough one.

The three of you remained in the living room as your embrace protected the twins, giving them the comfort they needed. At any time, you knew you would receive secret agents at your door, but you had no patience to deal with them. Deep down, you knew that Leon was alive. He needed to be.

But eventually, after a few days, you started to question if he really died. The twins were at home with you, as you decided to keep them at home after being dismissed from class due to personal reasons. The house, once full of laughs, jokes, and love, was now silent and cold. You were dead worried, waiting for any sign or call from Leon or Hunnigan. Olivia barely left her room, and Jake tried to stay positive, giving you the support you also needed.

Until he crossed the door.

The moment Leon walked inside the house, it was like he brought back the light. It was like the missing piece had finally found its way back. Olivia and Jake jumped on him, and for a very long time, tears and sobs were the only symphony inside the place. You were looking at him like he was your sun, the warmth and kindness that always finds a way to melt your heart. He glances at you, and he smiles.

He opens his arms, and when he embraces you, this is exactly where he needs to be.

“I had no other choice. He got infected,” Leon later said, when the four of you were having a family quality time. “And Simmons tried to blame me to cover up for his crimes”

“But you got him, right?” Jake asked, eating his popcorn and focusing his attention on his father.

“Well, kiddo, if I didn’t, I would be dead by now.” Leon chuckles, stroking your hand as you lay comfortably on his chest, smiling.

“Why do you keep doing this, dad?” Olivia asked, sighing. Leon hesitated for a moment. This was a subject never spoken in your family.

“Back in 1998, right after I met your mom, I had recently graduated from the Police Academy, and your mom was about to start as an intern. We decided to move to Raccoon City so we could start a life together, but one week before, I got a call telling me I shouldn’t go. I don’t know why I ignored that call, but we went anyway.” Leon sighed, his eyes looking somewhere else. He never liked talking about Raccoon City. “When we arrived, the city was drowned in chaos, death, and zombies. It was a living nightmare. But at least we met Claire and Sherry, a little girl who was alone. We managed to survive the night, barely escaping the city. The entire city was wiped away the next morning, and when we tried to find a rescue, we ended up in a government facility. I made a deal that day in exchange for keeping your mom and Sherry safe, I joined their top-secret program. One week before I left, your mom told me she was pregnant"

Both Olivia and Jake were surprised to hear about the incident. Sure, everyone knew, but knowing their parents were there and somehow survived was very different. Now, at least, they knew the true nature of Leon’s job and why he did what he did. But, the most important thing in the world, they knew Leon would do everything in his power to keep his family safe.

One year later, in 2014, however, things turned unexpectedly.

Leon decided to go on a vacation in the Rocky Mountains in Colorado after his entire team was killed by a mole. He drowned himself in alcohol, and he clearly was struggling with depression. After everything he went through, he was losing himself again. It was morning when you woke up alone in the hotel room, his side cold and empty. His blonde hair was now dark, he had a beard growing up, and his eyes weren’t shining like usual.

You found him already drinking his sorrows away.

“Babe, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sighed, sitting on his side, holding his hand and squeezing it softly.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this anymore.” Leon muttered, his eyes focused on his own drink and avoiding your gaze. “I had to watch them die… I had to shoot them in the morgue. I lost them all”

“And do you think drinking heavily will ease the pain, Lee? You can’t bring them back, and I know it hurts, but this wasn’t your fault. You tried, I know you did… but sometimes things don’t happen the way we want them to happen,” you sighed again, still holding his hand.

He was shattered inside. Losing his entire team in front of his eyes made him regret every decision he ever made. He was disgusted by himself and found solace in alcohol, which you hated.

“It's a little bit early to be that deep in the bottle, Leon,” you heard Chris say, getting closer with Rebecca.

You smirk, and Leon sighs. He’s going again on a new mission.

When he came back from this mission with Chris, he seemed different. Although his arm seemed to be hurt, he was acting differently. Whatever happened between him and Chris, it worked to make him open his eyes. He enjoyed the rest of his vacation, cutting out alcohol permanently and spending more time with his family.

He eventually told you about Arias and what happened in New York. Likewise, he told you about Maria.

Leon was, again, healing. It was a very slow process, but he had his family to remind him that life could be beautiful and happy. He had you by his side, and even after sixteen years since Raccoon City, he was still alive, and nothing bad really happened to you or the twins. Now, he was making his dad jokes again, laughing and smiling more than ever. His presence at home was more frequent, and he definitely decided to stay more with you.

On the weekends, he would take you and the twins to some random beach, have a picnic, or go camping outside. The family portraits were happier than the previous ones, and slowly, he was starting to show the first signs of his age hitting him. His body wasn’t the same as before, but you didn’t care. To you, he would always be the Leon you met in his 20s.

A year later, everything was normal again.

“Ok, slow down. I know you want to go see this prison, but I’m not Flash!” You shouted at Jake while he was speaking aloud about Alcatraz. “Liv, are you ready?”

“Mom, why do you keep treating me like I’m a baby?” Jake rolled his eyes, finally meeting you in the living room, his phone on his left ear.

“Well, you might be sixteen, but you’re still my baby.” You teased him by kissing his forehead.

You drove to get the boat to Alcatraz Island because Jake had been asking you for the entire month. He had this history project, and since you were the cool parent, you decided to take him and Olivia on a small trip to the island because Leon was too busy at work, and you wanted to enjoy San Francisco since their vacation was ending.

But something went wrong.

You three were at the cell block when everyone started to scream and run. You grabbed Jake and Olivia by their hands and entered one of the cells, locking it. Whatever was happening, their safety was your priority. You took a gun from your purse, ready to keep your children safe.

“Mom… I-I don’t feel good,” Jake muttered, sliding against the walls. He was pale and sweating, and his breath was very shallow.

“What happened, baby? What's wrong?” You asked desperately, trying to find any sign of a bite or any other wound. “Are you hurt? Olivia, help me lay him in bed"

But then the same thing happened to Olivia. You were desperate, and their phones were missing. Now, they were struggling against something you couldn’t know what it was, and there was no way to call for help. You sat with them, stroking their heads and whispering soothing words, fighting to keep tears in your eyes. You saw a blonde woman standing on the other side, half of her face covered by her own hair. She watched you with an awful smirk and disdain.

“Who are you?” you asked, your hand slightly reaching your gun.

“I’m the one who will make your husband pay for killing my father,” the mysterious blonde said angrily. “I’ll make him watch your children rip you apart and see him kill everything he loves. And then I’ll make him suffer”

“You’re stupid to think he’ll fall for that,” you said, smiling, but deep down, you knew you were scared. “He’ll beat the living shit out of you just because you thought you could harm us”

She smirks.

“Yeah, if I were you, I’d be worrying about my own skin by now”

“Well, if you think I’ll leave my children alone, you’re wrong. You better find Leon before I find you, because no one fucks with my family and gets away with it,” you threatened with cold, dead eyes, and she seemed to back off.

“Badass, mom,” Jake smirks, holding your hand tight.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. Dad’s coming,” you whispered to the twins softly.

You had no idea how she found out about your family, but this wasn’t important at the moment. You had calmed them both, knowing they were struggling with the infection. Seeing them suffer made you angry, and whoever she was, you would go after her and make her pay for hurting your babies. You had no notion of time, but you heard someone. It was Chris and Claire, they were also infected. You hated being the one spared, but you knew you were running out of time.

“Are you guys okay?” You asked both Chris and Claire, hearing them groan in pain.

“Yeah… how about the kids?” Chris asked you back, followed by a groan.

“They’re infected…” you sighed. “I don’t know, it happened quick”

You heard a loud thud. Two people were walking inside the cell block, and then you heard him scream your name, running immediately to you. Desperation floated in his eyes as he saw his twins.

“Babe, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Leon asked with desperation in his voice. He managed to open the cell, hugging you tight. “What happened to the twins?”

“That little bitch infected them,” you muttered, kneeling next to Olivia.

“Maria? Where is she?” Leon asked again, holding Jake in his lap. “Hold on, big boy. Daddy's here”

“Dad… it hurts,” Jake hissed, closing his eyes. Olivia reached for his hand, trying to squeeze it.

“I know, but I need you to hang on just a little bit. I promise I’ll take you home safe,” Leon said, stroking Jake’s hair and, with his other hand, holding Olivia’s.

As soon as Rebecca arrived, she injected the vaccine into the twins, Chris and Claire. Jill had to leave to face Dylan by herself. It was time to end this. As soon as the twins recovered from the infection, you sat next to them with a serious look on your face.

“I need you two to go with Claire and Rebecca. Jake, you need to protect your sister, okay? I’m counting on you two,” you said to them. “Me and Dad will be back for you when we finish. Go, now!” As they leave with Claire and Rebecca, you take your gear.

“You look so sexy when you’re angry,” Leon teased as you two walked to the armory room.

“Keep teasing me like that, and I’ll have to teach you a lesson” You wink at him, which makes him giggle.

Maria was waiting for both of you in the armory room. After an intense fight, Leon managed to kick her, impaling her into some broken metal pipes. She looked at you, and you leaned closer, pointing your gun into her head.

“I told you. No one fucks with my family,” you hissed angrily, right before she dropped dead on the floor.

Alcatraz was a terrible experience. Leon had his face almost purple after being beaten up by Maria, and the twins were exhausted. At least your family is intact again. You were with Rebecca, Chris, Claire, Jill, and Leon outside. He seemed distressed, so you hugged him tightly, kissing his shoulder gently.

“I almost lost them,” he said, looking at the twins laughing with Chris. “And you”

“We’re here,” you said to him, looking into his blue eyes and placing your cheek peacefully on his shoulder.

“I’ll quit.” Leon looks at you. “I’m coming home, and I’ll never leave you again”

You smiled, holding his hand. No matter what happens, at the end of the day, Leon always comes home.

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spicypineneedles · 28 days

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been on a clown roll lately! here are some color-experimentation sketches along with my self-insert... oc? thingy? for @bamsara's Solar Lunacy universe!! I've been binging that shit for about a week straight- and the brainrot is real... (more rambles under the cut)

I've become an actual irl menace to my partner about sun/moon -related content because of Solar Lunacy :'D just- binging videos, playlists, fics, all that jazz! i haven't been more energetic/happy in a long while tho, and - even as a fictional character - bamsara's sun is hella infectious >:] i might probably clean up the doodle below- but for this being my first time drawing the daycare attendants its-- ok :] the absolute struggle i had with trying to figure out which side of their chassis' are colored-- and the poses gave me such trouble :sob: the little name-tag card in the middle was originally designed by bamsara (as you can see here), but i wanted to try and give my own little color-spin on it! <3 -- Other than that! the little fella in the top-right corner is an absolutely adorkable little cutie i found at the bottom of a bowl! (see the lil button image of him w/ his little flute-thingy) and i so had to draw him ;O; lil goober that i still need to try and make more skrunkly, somehow...

#buds musings #fnaf #fnaf fanart #fnaf au #solar lunacy #fnaf dca #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf security breach #how do i tag random clown that i saw on a plate...#clown #clown art #self insert #self insert oc #self insert x canon #(if you squint)

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months

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Baby Face - A John Shelby/Reader One Short Story.

Words - 2,742

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You and your girlfriends, you have names for each of them. Names the don’t know about. Tommy is razor cheeks, because of course. Those cheekbones. Arthur is angry fella, again, self-explanatory, and John is...

“Look, girls,” you chime, sipping upon your gin while discreetly nodding in the direction of the Garrison’s entrance. “Baby face just walked in.”

“He’s so adorable,” your friend Marjie sighs, turning to you with a look of pure adoration upon her face. “I don’t know what I’d like to do more, mother him or get on him!”

“Oh,” you snort, shaking your head, “it’s the latter for me. I would ride that man all the way to town and back!”

Your girls all cackle, huddling close, Joan the next to speak. “Would you, though? I mean, he’s a bit too sweet looking for me! Dunno if he’d have it in him, to be as much man as I’d need!”

You turn to view him again, catching his eye. He gives you an appreciative sweep with his eyes, winking. Turning back to your friends, you beam widely. “He’s got it in him. I know we call him baby face, but there’s a demon lurking beneath. I know there is.”

“A shilling says you’re wrong.” Reaching into her purse, Winnie pulls out the very coin itself, slapping it down on the table. Joan and Marjie follow suit. “Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?”

Rifling in your bag, you remove your dainty little purse, taking out the coin and placing it with theirs. “I’ll put my money there. My mouth has other plans.”

“Oooh, you dirty cat!” Winnie shrieks, her brother, the man you needed to accompany you to the pub in order to be served in the first place turning, tutting and shaking his head.

“All alley cats, the lot of ya!”

“Oh, pipe down, our Wilf,” she orders lightly, giving him a nudge where he’s turned in his seat at the next table over with his lad friends. “We’re only having a bit of fun!”

A bit of fun. You can guess with almost certainty you’d receive exactly that from John Shelby. Turning again, you see he’s still at the bar, drinking with a couple of the lesser famed Blinders, once again catching your eye. He lifts his chin, holding your gaze fast while sipping his whiskey, placing his glass down and making a motion with his fingers for you to go over. Smiling, you remain in your seat.

He can work a little harder than that.

The excited squeaks of your friends – who of course witnessed it – tinkle through the air, Joan holding out a cigarette, lighting it for you, her eyes suddenly widening.

“Baby face on his way over! This is not a bloody drill!”

Your heart somersaults, but you remain calm, feeling him arrive at your side. “Evening, ladies. Having a good time, are ya?”

Looking up at him, you��re near intoxicated out of your mind by his scent, his eyes so much more beautiful close up. God, he’s simply divine. “I could be having a better one.”

“Oh, ar?” he chimes, raising an eyebrow as he idly chews upon his toothpick. “Anything I can help with?”

Your girlfriends snort with giggles, John giving them a fleeting look of curiosity before his eyes fall back upon you. He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “How about I get another gin in that glass for ya, and we go from there?”

You stand, licking your lips, watching his eyes flit down, his pupils inking a little. You have to stop yourself from diving on him right there and then. “Lead the way.” He offers his arm, and you take it to a little “ooooh!” chorus from your friends, turning to give them a scolding look. After being escorted from the bar and furnished with another drink, one drink leads to two, two to three, the evening flying by as you get to know the third Shelby brother a little better.

You find him to be sweet and charming beneath the veil of hardened gangster, and, well, cheeky as hell.

“I gotta hand it to ya, bab. Those are some cracking legs you’ve got,” he compliments with a wink, looking down and back up again, his cocky smile broadening.

You lean in close to him, gliding a fingernail over his defined jaw. “Why thank you.”

His intense gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, turning to press a little kiss to your fingertip. “Yeah, your legs look amazing, but they’d look even better wrapped around me.”

The signals you’ve been giving to one another have all led to this point, your smile broadening in an instant. “I have lodgings above the shoe shop on Bennett Street. Want to come and see for yourself how good they’ll look around you?”

You’ve never seen a man see off a fresh whiskey quite so fast before. “Lead the way, love.” You know the Shelby abode is closer than your little room above Mr. Smedley’s Shoes and Leather goods, but you’d prefer to be in your own space with a man you truly don’t know well at all. Outside, you fall into step at his side, taking his arm again, thinking how gentlemanly he is, right up until he suddenly pushes you into an alleyway.

You feel a little anxious at first, but the way he looks at you. Oh, look. There’s the demon you knew was lurking beneath the surface, spitting out his toothpick before his mouth lands upon yours. His kisses are whiskey tinged and lust dripping, all sweet heat and need as he pushes himself against you. It’s imposing, but not intimidating, his want for you melding with yours as the sparks begin to crackle further into illumination.

“Come on, mister. You’re not shagging me in an alleyway.” Grabbing his hand, you lead him back out to the street again, John releasing it to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead, your own extending around his waist. The balmy summer evening still warms the pale, inky violet of night, the air pleasant, the birds still twittering as they sit on the viaducts above, turning three corners before you end up on Bennett Street.

John Shelby has never been so pleased to see a shoe shop in all of his life, and the spring in his step confirms it. If not, the way he begins to lay hot kisses upon your neck as you jiggle the key in the side door lock tells you plenty. The entrance to the two lodging rooms above the is separate from the shop itself, a narrow staircase taking you up a flight, turning right into an equally narrow passageway.

“Bathroom is at the end there.” you point, unlocking the door to the left and opening it to reveal your modest dwelling.

“It’s your bed I wanna know the way to more right now,” he breathes, shrugging his jacket off, his hands impatiently moving to you, smoothing over your body, mouth still furiously heated at your neck. God, the raw passion in him. It’s almost enough to make your knees buckle, feeling your dress come loose in his hands as you step out of your shoes, turning to kiss him.

He backs you against the door, hands pawing at you urgently, kisses full-bodied and blistering with heat. Your hands begin the desperate devouring of clothes, having his shirt unfastened in haste to feel his skin against yours, your body smoothed and squeezed in a touch that leaves you breathless. Your fingers rain trails of exploration over his chest, and the noise he makes as his tongue swirls with yours is pure sin, his touch slipping to your undergarments.

He fights against the lace, a hand slipping within, pulling a gasp from you when his fingers brush against the petals of your sex. You whine at the tease, and he smiles against your lips, pulling from the kiss to look at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, watching the need dance in your eyes. He relents his tease, his fingertips gently stroking the slick of your anticipation, your head thudding back against the door.

The wood feels cool and steadying against your body, skin heating up rapidly, a summer tempest beginning to swell as the stroking of your bundle has you purring softly, John’s lips returning to yours. His body melds into your curves, his cock hard at your hip, his touch rousing the little bolts that spark up your spine. He draws all manner of sweet noises from you, and he swallows back every one of them in each kiss, his free arm locking around your waist.

Lifting you, he carries your barely dressed form to the bed, throwing you down, removing the rest of his clothes as you impatiently pull yourself out of your undies, your stockings shimmied down, receiving his pale skinned, freckle flecked, gorgeous body between your legs. His kisses trail your eager flesh, shifting, hands wandering along the path his lips map, settling at your apex and delving within your folds with a keen, firm drag.

The wet of each lick has little pin pricks skittering over your nerves, the warmth of it catching quickly, your edges caught in the heat of his flame. The roll of his tongue over your clit is slow and full of heat, hands kneading in soft clench upon your thighs, the outline of him through the dimness of your room gilded in the last of the summer light still reasonably visible.

He is a feast for your eyes, his wide back and well-bounded bum so peachy, it invites you to sink your teeth into it, if you weren’t so lost in the delirium of his mouth pressed so keenly against your sex. The heat he evokes burns you to your marrow, the scald of your arousal growing as every flicker of his tongue sends flames skittering through you. The addition of his fingers pushing into your cunt has a sweltering flush of pleasure twining through you, your hands reaching to rest either side of his head.

Neatly shorn stubble prickles at your fingertips, your back arching as he works you with hunger, your dew sparkling upon his fingers. He twists them in a way that has your mouth dropping open, a sound you scarcely believe came from you filling the air, John’s lips wrapping your clit in a suck that is a gentle crush of pillowy heat to begin with, the pull intensifying, little glimmers rushing through you until...

“Oh!” It tears through you, sudden and overbearing, leaving you trembling, your release still rolling through you as his tongue slows, your fluttering walls pulsing around his fingers, withdrawing them as he sits up, inspecting his sodden hand.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he rumbles, shaking the trails of slick from them, chuckling to himself. “Proper enjoyed that, didn’t ya?” He brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean before grasping your thighs and yanking you closer to where he kneels, a predatory look glinting the blue of his eyes. “Think you’re ready to get fucked now, ain’t ya?”

“You bloody better,” you mewl, hands trawling his arms as he lowers to you, placing kisses at your sternum. You can feel the head of his cock pressing for entrance, the tip breeching you, but all he gives is a mere inch before pulling back. His mouth closes over your nipple in a warm suck, pushing again, opening you around him, slipping back once more. Oh... you certainly were right. He’s a demon.

“John, please,” you complain, and he has the gall to give you his most innocent, unassuming look. Damn that baby face.

“Please what, bab?”

You chuckle, but it’s pained, hissing a breath when his teeth close upon your nipple. “Please fuck me.”

“I will, love,” he murmurs, mouth moving to your neck, tongue pressing against where your pulse flickers madly. “Eventually.” His teeth lock in another bite, cock breeching you again, a couple of inches parting your needy, soaking walls this time, twitching before abandoning you again. “Gonna make you desperate for it before I do, though.”

“And to think, my friend thought you were so adorable,” you quip, body juddering beneath him, John laughing as his tongue swipes over the crescent of each breast, hands smoothing down your back.

“Your friend don’t fucking know shit.” Indeed, she doesn’t. Your bet? Won already... and he’s barely been inside you.

His merciless tease continues, and every second of it is agonising to your overstimulated body, your cunt streaming needily, yearning for him to simply fill you. When he finally does, you have to hope that Mr. Taggart, the other lodger there above the shoe shop is out for the night from the cadence of your wail, spread wide around the girth of the gangster who offers kisses steeped in sugared embers, fingers trawling through your hair.

No matter how dangerous he is, you desire nothing more than to slap him when he retreats once more, chuckling at your pain. “Alright, fine,” he begins, turning you onto your side, moving to lie behind you. “I suppose I’d better play fair, save spitting me teeth.”

He hauls your leg up so it rests in the cradle of his elbow, hand reaching to grasp his cock. He purposefully rubs himself along your slit, the gloss of your cunt smearing over his thick, veiny shaft, your whimpers reaching crescendo. You need him so badly, you are not above begging, but finally, he plunges into you fully, sating you beautifully. And oh, he feels sublime.

His other hand reaches beneath your neck, turning your head to meet your lips in kisses that scald you, like a summer heatwave cutting through an arctic chill, moaning against your tongue as he arrows you so deeply, you see stars. The rhythm of his fuck is contained to begin with, each daggering into your soft, dripping warmth allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock, falling then into a tempo that has you gasping against his lips.

The snap of his hips has your tits heaving, kissing back every little cry, telling you how good you feel around him, how beautiful you look while you’re getting fucked, moaning into your mouth as his hand slides down to begin stroking your clit in time with every deep thrust. You’re adrift from yourself, cast out onto the vast sea that begins to whirl, the storm that is John leaving you feeling unmoored entirely as he splits you deep and fucks you hard.

“Come on, darlin’. Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, mouth moving to suck a purple welt upon your neck with a deep groan full of smoke and salt. “Let me hear you scream for me.”

You feel the shiver in your muscles spread as he rails you relentlessly, his sweat slicked chest rubbing against your back as your voice breaks on the scream he fucks out of you, your waves flooding his shore as you come hard for him, every fibre of your being alight, twitching and beaming. He slows, giving you time to recover, sliding from you and turning you over, pulling your hips up before re-entering your molten core from behind.

Your pleasure is still warming your bones as he begins to fuck you in all out, brutal carnal fury, groaning deep as he splits you around him, hands clasped at your hips, eyes fixed upon the sight of his cock rapidly assailing your soaking little hole. He pants hard, each twitch of his cock tightened upon by the clutch of your walls as he rapidly has you ascending again, coming with him as he paints your insides white, growling cusses as his release blinds him completely.

You don’t even care about the three shillings you just won; all the prize you need is being turned and pulled into a set of strong arms, sharing kisses with your baby-faced demon as every drop of pleasure he so expertly bestowed upon you ebbs away.

“Fancy letting me do that to you again sometime?” he asks, and you smirk immediately, turning him onto his back and seating yourself astride him.

“You aren’t leaving here until you do it to me at least another three times,” you demand, leaning to kiss the centre of his chest, the vibrations from his chuckle tickling your lips.

“Oh ar, bab. You can count on that.”

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