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rottenrosethorns · 1 year

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Promise | Part One

Pairing: RE4!Leon S. Kennedy x co-worker!fwb!afab!Reader

Genre: Friends with Benefits AU, Smut

Synopsis: You and Leon had a strictly professional work relationship and strictly physical personal relationship. But recently, you start to notice more affection from Leon little by little. With his upcoming mission, will you be able to confront him before he leaves?

Warnings: 18+ SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI, vanilla, oral sex (mutual), throatfucking (receiving), choking (receiving), cum swallowing (mutual), hair tugging (giving), public oral, physical restraint – hand wraps used (received). Please inform me if I missed anything!

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: this is my first leon fic and im very, very new to the RE fandom but not new to writing, so i apologize if some parts/personality is non-canonical! im still working on learning more about the universe. also, this is my first fic ive written since a year so…if this is bad, im so sorry, working hard to get my writing back to better as well <//3 also there might be a part 2 but might not??? depends idkkkkk, if this goes well or not lolll

.....

- masterlist -

- part two -

.....

You don’t remember how it started. All you knew was that somehow, it became routine for you both to spend Friday nights together after work.

At first, it was every few months, nothing structured really. A stray text, here and there. A brief "My place or yours?" or "Are you up?" sufficed whatever cravings either conjured during the quieter nights.

If he needed to be satisfied, you’d be there. If you needed to relieve stress, he’d be there. And that, for the longest time, was the determination of the relationship. There wasn't really much need for anything else. Leon was always out on missions, fighting off whatever offspring the latest virus variant had mutant and you were diligently cooped up in your tiny office, researching past strains, tracking patterns for the next possible mutations, and investigating outbreaks.

Even though you both worked at the same company, albeit in different departments, crossing paths with Leon was not uncommon. Despite the frequency, every interaction was conducted as if you both were strangers. Partly because nobody at work needed to know the personal agendas you both occasionally shared as well as the work dynamic between your titles and ranks. It didn’t matter anyways, nobody would ever catch on that a DSO agent and a researcher would intermingle in bed anyways.

But eventually, those seldom visits became monthly, always being on the first Fridays for convenience. It was weird to keep a schedule like that, especially when the appointment was solely for sex, but it’s what worked best for the both of you and neither of you had any complaints. Almost like a regular wellness checkup with your family doctor except none of you suffered from any illnesses.

Then, monthly became weekly. Both of you needn’t ask to come over anymore, practically leaving work together on Fridays. You clean up whatever case you were working on, pack up, and head towards his apartment. This was routine.

So, it was obvious what your plans for tonight were.

“L/N.” A few knocks accompanied your colleague’s voice. She was Poppy, a sweet girl from a few doors down. One of the only co-workers that was near your age.

Your desk was a mess, papers skewed everywhere from the recent case concerning a missing girl filled every square inch surface of your office. Briefly glancing up from the disarray of files, you caught a glimpse of her with her light coat and bag on, “Clocking out?”

Poppy cheered, “Yup, my shift at the bar is starting. Care to join me and the rest of the agents?”

“I’d love to, but I have plans for tonight already,” A mental image of you sitting yourself on Leon’s throbbing dick painted into your mind. Or perhaps maybe you’ll let him take the lead tonight with him pinning you down on all fours, “Maybe Saturday, if you're not hungover enough.”

“I’m always ready for a good time, hungover or not! If you change your mind, come find us downtown,” Admittedly, that’s what you liked most about Poppy. She was always cheerful, a great change of pace in the gloomy environment of your job. Not that you were overly pessimistic, you were just very logical and had a job to do. A job to find a missing girl and investigate the T-virus. So, you both exchanged goodbyes before you sighed and continued to review the deadend clues for the nth time.

“You have plans for tonight?”

You raised your eyes in surprise, sure that you were alone in the office, having this time of evening to been way past normal work hours as well as the rest of the floor supposedly at the bar. Well, everyone but him now.

“I have plans every Friday, Kennedy.” You blinked innocently, keeping your facial expression neutral as you initially reference your workload; however, the sight of him in the cursed tight t-shirt underneath his jacket immediately shifted your tone into a sneaky innuendo.

Leon was fairly well at keeping his composure, speaking nonchalantly without skipping a beat as he leaned up against your office door frame, “More important than catching up with the crew?”

You caught on to his dismissal, not willing to embarrass yourself with desperation to fix your sexual desire. Thus, you mockingly tapped your files as if Leon couldn’t see the plethora of papers for himself, “I have a case.”

“You’ve been on that case for weeks now,” As if to taunt you with silent temptation, he crossed his arms, defining his biceps. Damn him, you thought. Although you couldn't see them underneath his jacket, you could tell just by the strain of wrinkles folded in the fabric. Damn his shirt too, you thought.

You shook your head, motioning towards the bulletin board of cold trails, “I’ve got to find a lead.”

“It’s one night, you can get back to it on Monday,” Leon pushed off the doorframe to welcome himself further into your office. You thought he’d make his way to inspect your bulletin, only to be surprised when he placed himself directly across from the other side of your desk. He bent forwards, placing each hand on the edge of your wooden desk and leaning his face close to yours. Even without words, you knew he wanted you to take a break.

“I have to find the missing girl.”

“One night,” Leon sighed before taking one hand to take the files out of yours and shutting your laptop closed, “It won’t kill you.”

“It could be enough to kill the girl,” You argued.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to save yourself a glare from Leon. A moment of silence passed before you sighed, not in frustration but in defeat, “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Since when did it become so hard to say no to him?

.....

“So, you decided to come after all!” Poppy cheered with a slight slur in her speech, already moving to pour you a drink, “I knew Leon would convince you.”

You gave Leon an accusatory look to which he dodged by moving to greet another colleague, “You-”

“Cheers!!” Poppy all but screamed into your ear whilst practically shoving the glass of alcohol to your lips. You quickly reacted, taking in the liquid in a few large gulps.

“Damn girl, you practice that?” Poppy scrunched her eyes playfully, suggesting that you practice with more than just drinking alcohol in your down time.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a ghost of a smirk appear on Leon’s face before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Regardless, you shot him a dirty look.

“Take a seat!” Poppy beckoned, sluggishly taking your coat and bag.

There was only one spot left located on the far side of the table. Just as you were about to make your way, Poppy’s voice halted you, “Hey, move it, will you?”

Poppy’s question was more like a demand towards another colleague, “What? I’m already sitting here. Why should I move?’

“Just move!!” Poppy pretty much shoved the poor man out of his seat before turning towards you with a soft smile and gesturing you to sit. For a moment, you’d forgotten how this sweet girl could become a special agent, but with that display, you remembered just how tough she could be under that kind smile.

“Thanks,” You laughed nervously, not wanting to be on the other end of her wrath. You wondered why sitting here was such a big deal until you realized it wasn't where but who you were sitting next to. With a seat so hidden in the corner and a private room full of many people, you were sandwiched between Leon’s sturdy torso and the wall. From where you were, you had to ask Leon to grab any drinks or food for you.

“Want something?” Leon looked at you, ready to grab anything that you wanted.

You nodded and thanked him. You did feel bad for making him grab all the things you wanted – especially since you were known to be a menu hog – but you really didn’t have much of a choice. It was either use him to do your bidding or climb over his lap in front of everyone. Just as you were about to ask for your desired dishes and drinks, Leon already knew what to bring to your plate without you needing to tell him.

Since when did he know your favorite foods?

.....

“You’re going on the missing girl mission?”

Leon nodded, persona instantly switching to serious. His jaw tensed, brows furrowed as the tiny wrinkles creased between them. This was usual, almost like a pre-mission ritual of his to get in the mindset of gore, bloodbaths, and bioweapons. Afterall, nothing can prepare a man for the horrors that go on during those missions. Not even you. You've investigated countless missions, earning lead researcher in many strain cases, yet whenever it came to Leon being the leading agent you suddenly had so many questions, overly irrelevant and useless.

Will you be okay? How long will you be gone? What’s your mission? Will you come back alive? Are you going alone? Is it dangerous? What if you get sick? What if you don’t come-

“Y/N!”

“Huh?”

“I asked you a question.”

“Oh, sorry,” You slightly winced, holding a hand towards your head and checking to see if you were ill. It was unlikely of you to get distracted so easily. Forcing out a cough, you cleared your throat to compose yourself, “What was your question?”

“Are you okay?” Leon shares a look of worry, placing a warm hand over your shoulder as if to comfort you while his other hand replaces the one on your forehead, “You don’t seem to be burning up.”

You gulped, tongue and mouth agonizingly dry as your eyes flickering towards his touch. As much as you wanted to shy away, his touch was warm and you craved his heat. It was unlikely of him to be in such near proximity to you, especially when you both could be seen through the glass walls of the briefing room. You averted your gaze, shakily looking at his baby blue eyes so it wasn’t obvious you were fixated on his hands, “Was that the question?”

“No,” Leon admitted with a small frown painting his sharp features, “You just don’t look so well.”

“Just thinking, I guess.”

“About?”

“Your mission.”

A half-lie, half-truth. Sure, you were concerned about his mission. You're highly paid and trained to be worried about these missions, but moreso, your concerns focused on him. In actuality, you didn’t really need to, he always came back safe. On the brink of death sometimes, yes. But, still alive nonetheless.

He gave a curt nod, “I’ve got training soon, but can I swing by later to get your debrief? It’s your case, you’re the expert. I need all the help in order to save the girl.”

“Of course, how late are you staying at the office?” You brought up your schedule, double checking if there were any meetings you still needed to attend.

“Actually, I was thinking we could go back to my place?” Leon nervously smiled, eyes squirting slightly, “Um, you know, because I got to sharpen my knives before I go.”

“You want me to debrief you at your place while you sharpen your knives?” The tail end of your tone stretched to be high pitched in your confusion. Was this a joke?

Leon let out an airy chuckle, “Yeah?”

You followed suit, letting out a laugh to ease the confusion, “Sure, I guess, wanna order in?”

“Yeah,” Leon smiled, “Pizza would be nice.”

“I'll see you then.”

Since when did Leon come up with excuses to see you?

.....

“Pizza’s here!”

Leon leapt up, putting his knives and sharpening tool on the wooden coffee table and rushing towards the doors to retrieve the pizza, “Thank god, I needed a break.”

You flipped through the debrief packet, only having gone through the first few pages of the hefty pile, “It’s a lot, these people – uh zombies? – are dangerous and fucked. Better to be safe than sorry.”

“I’ll save the girl, promise.”

Leon set the pizza box and wings on the table, careful not to let the grease seeping through the cardboard touch the mission materials and quickly left to grab plates and drinks. Meanwhile, you had continued to read aloud whatever essential background information he’d need to understand the nature of this mission. You hadn’t realized you were so heavily engaged in your notes to notice Leon plating two slices and setting a drink for you before helping himself. So, you continued until you heard the sound of Leon’s soft chewing.

Looking up, you finally noticed that Leon moved to sit on the floor and rest his back on the legs of the sofa. Putting down the packet, you followed him and moved to sit next to him, “I got a bit carried away, huh?”

Leon shared a smile, showing no signs of disdain, “Just a bit. Take a break, we can get back to it later.”

You held back a yawn, disguising it as you sipped your water and started devouring your pizza. You hadn’t realized how hungry you’ve gotten. You suppose you shouldn’t be skipping lunch anymore, but you knew that you’d probably forget that change in habit the next day. You both ate in silence. Normally, you found silence comfortable, but alone with Leon? You despised it.

“You look troubled,” Leon scanned your face, “Wanna share?”

You pressed your lips together, indeed you were troubled. The sight of his sharpened knives had invoked the bombardment of concerning questions again. They burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken.

“It’s...” You hesitated.

Leon didn’t speak. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but as if to encourage you, letting you know that all of his attention was on you and that he had no intention of interrupting you.

You sighed, “I’m just worried.”

“About the mission? I’ll save the girl. When have I ever failed?” Leon smirked.

For a moment, you laughed as well before becoming solemn again, “Not that, more about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Why?”

Without thinking, you split all the questions you’d been brewing since earlier. Pizza forgotten, you didn’t realize you’d been rambling until you’d run out of breath. Yet, Leon never interrupted you, letting you vent out.

“Sorry,” You looked away embarrassed, shoving the slice of pizza to prevent you from speaking, “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sure you will take care of yourself.”

If it had only been a couple of seconds, it felt like excruciating hours had passed from Leon’s silence. The room felt stuffy, the lights felt like they were shining too bright, and the sweat was sticky on the palm of your hands. The voice in your head was begging, crying for him to say something, anything. You didn’t care if he laughed in your face or reassured you. You just needed to hear something from him, so that you didn’t drown in your own thoughts. You had a tendency to overthink.

You shrinked back, heavy under the gaze of Leon. You didn’t know what to do, so you made an excuse of needing to use the restroom to escape the invisible chokehold. You hovered over the sink, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much, but it at least eases your heartbeat back to a normal range. Eyes now open, you pathetically look at yourself in the mirror and internally berate yourself for your foolishness. Has Leon made you lose all your self control now?

A brisk knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. As much as you didn’t want to face Leon, you couldn’t hide in his bathroom forever.

“Leon, I-”

Leon doesn’t wait for you to fully open the door, pushing his way in and pulling your body flush against his. His lips find a way to your neck, sucking and licking at the fragile skin. You were sure they left marks in its wake. Your words are cut off with a quick moan, your hand coming up to cover your mouth in shock. You weren’t sure what made him act this way, but you definitely weren’t complaining. If this is what’s going to distract him from the previous conversation, then you were more than willing to satisfy him. Plus, today was Friday. This was routine.

Leon’s hands trail all over your body as the both of you stumble back into the living room and fall onto the couch. This was quick, this was sloppy, this was like two horny teenage virgins having sex for the first time. But you were with Leon, so all of that didn’t matter. You didn’t even undress fully, only having discarded your shirt before you got off Leon’s chest and kneeled on the floor to face him as he sat up. Greedily, you pushed up his shirt midway, half-hazardly exposing his tense abs before clinging your hands around the waistband of his sweats and briefs and tugging him free in one motion.

“Excited there, big boy?”

Leon’s cock twitched, slapping against his lower abdomen in anticipation. His length was impressive, but his girth was even more breathtaking. His tip glistened under the lights, heavily leaking with precum. You snickered internally with a silent smirk blooming across your face and eyes twinkling with mischief, amused at Leon’s erection from being untouched.

“Watch it,” Leon’s voice was serious, tone stern and authoritative with his eyes narrowed as he watched you lick your lips at the sight of him. He was always serious and demanding during sex, yet always attentive of your needs. It was one of the things that you loved about him. You had a knack for power imbalance and an even bigger knack for defiance.

You kissed his thighs, starting from his left knee upwards, skipping his begging cock and back down to his right knee. Leon grunted with displeasure, rolling his eyes at your cheekiness. Just as he was about to get impatient, you moved forward, lips barely brushing against his shaft. He could feel your hot breath, twitching in anticipation once again. Yet, you didn’t want to comply, having too much fun teasing him with your antics, “Watch what-”

Leon narrowed his eyes into slits, annoyance clear on his face and clearly ran out of patience with you. Wordlessly, he dug his large hands under your arms, lifting you up and throwing you roughly where he sat on the couch. Stunned and turned on from the sudden manhandling, there you laid upside down with your head slightly hanging off the edge of the cushion. All you could get out was a squeak of surprise before Leon grabbed your head on both sides to support you and shoved his dick in your mouth and roughly throatfucking you. Immediately, you gagged from the unexpected rough entrance, but loved his abrasiveness with you. Leon watched as you took all of him, throat bulging with every thrust. He basked in the disposition of your bobbing Adam’s apple and the lewd squelches echoing off the living room walls. Leon was normally attentive to your limits; however, he had a habit of getting carried away during oral, leading to you tapping his thigh twice and pushing him off. Instinctively, you spit out your cum mixed saliva as it slowly slid down the side of your cheek and sticking to your hairline. It’d be a bitch to clean later, but you could care less at this moment.

Eyes opened, you took a deep breath in as you gasped for air. With his left hand, Leon continued to pump himself, slick hands rubbing along his length to keep his high going. With his right hand, Leon caressed your cheek with his thumb rubbing your cheekbone.

“I’m sorry. Safeword?”

You shook your head, chest heaving, “I’m good, just give me a sec. Don’t worry, I liked it, just haven’t done this in a while.”

Leon nodded, eyes softening with slight guilt although you showed no signs of being upset, “I’ll make it up to you. Promise you’re okay?”

You kept your hand on his thigh as if to tell him that you were okay. Still with one hand, Leon took off his shirt and used it to gently wipe your face. You laughed, finding the delicate gesture humorous as he still stroked himself.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothing.”

You smiled innocently before replacing his hand with yours and sticking your tongue out to accept his length again. Leon hissed out your name, eyebrows crinkling with pleasure. You slurped him one, twice before humming in acknowledgement. The vibrations only elicited another hiss-like moan out of him. Feeding off the noises he was making, you kept at your bobbing head, licking, gagging, and kissing all along him. You took him out of your mouth, cold air blowing against his shaft causing him to shiver. He was close, and you both knew it.

“Choke me.”

It was a simple demand, but it was the green light that Leon needed to resume throatfucking you. You put your hands down, using one to sneak into your pants and circle your aching clit. You hummed against Leon, earning a satisfied grunt from him, “Keep that up and you’re gonna have to swallow.”

He released his hold from you, letting you have a moment of air. You looked up at him, challenging, “Good thing I like the way you taste, Kennedy.”

Leon responded to you with a short grunt, but you didn’t fail to miss the slight flush on his face before he thrusted himself back into your awaiting mouth. His thrusts were much more forceful and rough, basically pushing your body deeper into the plushness of the couch. Your fingers switched from rubbing your clit to inserting your fingers inside yourself. Leon’s hold on your waist kept you pinned to the couch before moving to pull your pants down to view the sight of you finger fucking yourself. He never liked it when you touched yourself when with him, but at least he could watch you while you did. Must be a pride and ego thing, you thought.

He also didn’t like when you had too much clothes on. Albeit you were definitely no less than conservative at this moment, Leon just noticed you had your bra on the whole time. He didn’t like that. His hands swiftly moved from the dip of your waist to push down the straps of your bra and expose your jiggling tits. Moments like this, Leon became obsessed with every curvature of you, latching both hands on your breasts to hold as he pounded rougher into you.

“Almost done,” He choked out like he was the one out of breath. Borderline whimpering and whining at this point, begging for release.

You encouraged him by using your free hand to grab his hip and guide him. Three thrusts later, Leon’s hips stuttered and knees fell slack as he released his hot, thick ropes of cum into your mouth. You pulled away, lapping up every ounce he gave you.

“Still okay?” Leon asked, breathless.

You nodded.

“Say it.”

“I’m okay,” You confirmed, moving to sit upright.

“Need a break?”

You shook your head, greedily bringing his hips towards you. He looked down towards your slit, messily covered in your slick, “Who’s excited now, hm?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing, “Shut up, Kennedy.”

He smirked, teasing you, “Don’t want it now?”

You sighed in defeat, needing to cum more than needing to save your pride. You gave Leon your best pleading eyes, brows creasing in desperation, “I do want you. Please, I need you. I need you to make me cum.”

“There we go,” Leon cooed, “How would you like me? You have to tell me what you want.”

“Please, please, I want your tongue,” You sighed, “I want to cum on your tongue.”

Thoughts about begging Leon to get to it and rail crossed your mind; however, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to beg him to eat you out. Not that it wasn’t often, it was just a special treat and you were always the type to take advantage of your situations. You’d been missing his tongue, and you craved his expertise and enthusiasm despite the snarky comments that came with it.

“Copy that, agent,” Leon smirked, bending down and lifting your legs over his shoulders to bury his head in between your legs and licking a long stripe up your cunt, stopping to engulf his lips around your clit.

You sighed with bliss, curling your fingers into his hair and giving a taught tug to his blonde locks. Leon released his hold, blowing on your clit as he gripped your thighs tighter and spread them further, “Behave.”

He went to delve his tongue back into you until the shrill sound of his ringtone echoed, taking you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon shook you off as you tried to push him away, “Ignore it.”

“But-”

“I said leave it.”

The ringtone ceased, leaving the sounds back to being Leon’s tongue pushing in and out of your hole. Only a moment later, the ringtone came back to life and now taking the both of you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon threw his head back with a frustrated groan, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You bite your lip, can’t help but hold back your curiosity, “Who is it?”

“The President.”

.....

Leon was leaving. Leon was leaving for Spain. Leon was leaving for Spain to fight against an infected cult to save the President’s daughter in an hour.

Arguably, you were more nervous about his departure than him. Actually, you were more nervous than he was. All your questions from the previous night flooding your mind again. So, you took it to the company gym to let out your worries. A researcher usually doesn't occupy the training room, but you need the stress relief. Why? Because your other stress reliever was leaving the country!

“You’re hurting yourself,” Leon leaned against the door frame, clad in his tight tactical gear. Hip pouches and combat knife strapped securely on his sturdy figure, combat boots tightly tied and double knotted, and most importantly his handgun safely holstered along his belt. Although you hated the reason why he was in his uniform, you can’t help but drool over him.

You’d known you pushed yourself past your limit a while ago. The sting of your knuckles along with the faint patches of blood staining the fabric of the punching bag made it obvious. You’d been bleeding through your wrap for a while, but you didn’t care as the pain helped you forget about your worries. Technically, this was equally helping as it was hurting you.

Meanwhile, Leon pushed himself off the wall, steadily walking over towards you and grabbing both your wrists. You glanced up through your lashes, staring a bit too long in his baby blue eyes, “Shouldn’t you be gone already?”

Letting go, Leon panged fake hurt from your words, “Want me gone already?”

“You know what I meant, Kennedy,” You continued throwing punches, despite Leon’s disapproving looks. Regardless, you were thankful that he didn’t try to stop you.

“Flight leaves in an hour or so, just doing my last double checks on equipment and saying my goodbyes.”

You raised a sweaty brow with doubt, freezing mid punch and fist never meeting the punching bag, “You don’t say goodbyes.”

“I don’t.”

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to be here?” Leon perked up, knowing that he would overturn you in any conversation. You stared at each other in silence, challenging the other person to say something first. Sighing, you broke eye contact, going back to punching, “You should bring a jacket. I heard the weather is pretty bad over there. Plus, you don’t look very inconspicuous.”

“Outfit screams “On my way to save the President’s daughter from contagious B.O.W.s,” right?” Leon laughed, “But, what’s on your mind?”

You half shrugged, “Just got some stuff on my mind.”

“Like?”

You.

“The mission.”

Leon nodded, face turning stern as if he were calculating battle tactics in his head already, “Same.”

Silence fell over the both of you again, but this time, awkward. You cleared your throat, turning away from Leon to grab at your water bottle, “Nervous?”

“Not really,” Leon’s demeanor switched to devious, “Honestly, just want to get this over with. I got some unfinished business.”

“Unfinished business?”

Leon’s eyes held a glint in them, patiently waiting for you to catch on.

Unfinished business. Your unfinished business. You never got to finish.

You slapped Leon on his upper chest with a hiss, “You can’t be serious!”

“But, I am.”

“We’re at work!”

“And?”

You gawked at him in complete disbelief, “And? Um, I don’t know, we could get caught, we could lose our jobs!”

Leon shugged, smiling confidently, “There’s no cameras.”

“Someone could hear us!”

“Only if you’re loud.”

You hated the smug look on his face, knowing that you were pretty vocal. It was only until your eyes followed his as he watched you subconsciously squirm and press your thighs together. Leon gently grabbed your shoulders, pressing soothing circles on your skin, "Do you trust me?"

The look in his eyes was so fierce, your lips quivered, "With my life."

Leon's hands slid down your arms and snaked them around the curvature of your ass before supporting the back of your thighs, "Jump."

And, you did. Instantly, Leon's lips peppered your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You cringed, thinking about the accumulated sweat from your workout session, but Leon didn't seem to mind. He'd make you sweat even more pretty soon anyways. You sighed with pleasure, running your hands along his arms and feeling the firmness of his biceps under your fingertips. Whilst distracted by the heat of his touch, Leon took his chance and backed you up towards the Smith machine.

“Leon, what are you-”

He hushed a whisper in your ear, causing a shudder through your spine, “You trust me, right?”

Leon looked at you, pausing all movement until you spoke a soft, “Yes.”

“Good,” Leon glanced at you through the mirrors spanning across the entire wall of the gym, “Remember to be quiet.”

Leon unraveled your blood stained hand wraps, lacing them together over your wrists and over the bar while effectively tying your hands tightly against it. Once finished, Leon gripped his hands over the ridges on the bar, unhooking it and effortlessly lifting the bar onto a higher post on the machine. You definitely didn’t miss the bulge of his biceps. Through the mirror, your arms were outstretched way above your head with the soles of your shoes firmly touching the ground.

Leon moved in front of you, back now facing the mirror while keeping eye contact with you the whole time. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

He pulled down your pants, noticing the lack of undergarments. He raised a brow and teasing smile itched to bloom across his quivering lips.

“Shut up, it’s easier to workout in,” You huffed, a bright blush rushing across your face.

Leon hummed in satisfaction, “It’s easier to eat out too.”

“Hey-”

Your scolding fizzled out into a loud moan as Leon repositioned your legs and dove under you with his tongue flicking your clit. His hands traveled up and down your legs, taking the time to squish your plush thighs. Leon kept his rhythm for a moment before pausing, “I thought I told you to be quiet. Unless you like the idea of being caught.”

You involuntarily clenched at his teasing, jaw tightening from your lack of composure, “Hurry, you don’t have that much time yet.”

“Don’t need that much anyways.”

Leon uses his hands to push away your legs, running his fingers up and down the skin of your thighs. He grips them every so often before sliding his hand around, cupping the crease just below your ass, and firmly tugging you forward with his tongue stuck out along your slit. You choked out a sigh, careful not to be too loud as you threw your head back in pleasure. With the guidance of Leon’s hand, your hips began grinding on Leon’s tongue as he licked and lapped your dripping sweetness. The sight of yourself through the mirror was lewd

“I’m- I’m almost-”

“Hold on for me.”

Leon meant it metaphorically, wanting to show off the skills of his tongue and mouth just a bit more. But he also meant physically as Leon hoisted your thighs upon his shoulders, carrying most of your weight with the help of his arms hugging you secured around your lower back. Regardless, you’d instinctively grabbed the metal bar, flexing your arms to hold yourself up. Half not to crush your weight on Leon, and the other half in need of something to grip while waves of pleasure ruined you.

You thrust your hips forward, needing more of Leon as you ached for him, “Please, almost there.”

Leon pushed you closer towards him, hoisting you higher so that his face was centered at your core. Leon pushed his tongue deeper into you just as you reached the apex of your climax. A deep sigh of relief came over you as you ground the last of your ecstasy onto Leon and just in time for his flight departure. Gently, he set you down, pulling your pants up for you and untying your restraints. Without saying anything, he took off your hand wraps entirely, blowing cool air on your scratched knuckles, “Take care of this later.”

“Take care of your mission.”

Leon nodded, switching back into his agent persona. You watched him begin to walk away before he hesitated right as he passed through the door frame, “Hey.”

“Yeah?” You cast him a longing look.

“I’m going to come back, okay? Promise.”

Since when did Leon make promises?

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon s kennedy oneshot

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homelanderbutbig · 5 months

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The Milk Box (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1270 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You and Homelander share some milk. Inspired by a conversation with @sehtoast, and a suggestion by @slasher-smasher.

It started out as a joke gift for Homelander, a subscription to 'The Milk Box' where every month he would be shipped a crate of specialty milk. Initially, he took one look at this box and scoffed, rolling his eyes at this silly present you got for him. However, it did not take long for the monthly milk arrival to become an anticipated event.

Today's the day the next shipment is set to be delivered, and Homelander is stressed. The waiting is the hardest part for the man who can have anything at the snap of his fingers, but he displays a high level of restraint from flying to the post office and retrieving the box himself, because he knows how annoyed you'd be with him. Instead, he's pestering Ashley every five minutes for an update on the box's tracking location. Yelling at her to keep him informed every second, while he's pacing back and forth in an attempt to stay grounded.

And then, the moment finally comes. The second the mailman enters Vought Tower with the package, Homelander is rushing to your office, practically bulldozing through your door. It doesn't even matter to him that you are in the middle of a meeting, this is more important.

You barely have time to understand what is happening before you are yanked away from your computer, held close against his chest with one of his immovable hands. He whisks you into the nearest elevator, giving its occupants just enough time to run out, before he hits the button to take you both up to his penthouse. Yet, it can't move fast enough as he bounces in anticipation.

The instant the elevator dings, he moves so fast into the penthouse he practically flies to the dining room, taking his seat while keeping you propped up on his lap. He's left a knife out on the table for you to open the package, as it's become tradition during these unboxing days. With a large hand on your shoulder, he watches intently as you slice along the packing tape. Even though the scent of dairy is overtaking his sense of smell, he suppresses his X-ray vision to not spoil the surprise of this shipment's contents.

Finally, the suspension is relieved as you open the box, unveiling the twelve glass bottles of specialty milk. They are chilled to a perfect temperature thanks to the dry ice packed around each bottle. Homelander is fixated on your hands as you carefully remove each bottle from the box, lining them up in front of the both of you. This month's crate comes from a local farm, featuring 1% milk, 2% milk, whole milk, chocolate milk, and unhomogenized milk.

Grabbing two bottles of the unhomogenized milk, Homelander's favourite, you pass one to him as you both unscrew your lids. He takes the time to deeply inhale through his nose, closing his eyes as the intoxicating dairy scent floods into his lungs.

You both take a sip of the milk, though your reaction is a lot more subdued than Homelander's. What you taste is very similar to the regular milk you drink. For him, it's a feast for his taste buds. The low-fat milk bottom portion dances between textures of smooth, creamy, and silky; the high-fat cream top portion coats his tongue with consistencies of sweet, foamy, and rich. He can perceive the faint tones of grass from the cow's diet, and the freshness of the farmer's harvest.

Regardless, it's not just about the taste of the milk. As a child created in a lab, he never had the opportunity to know his real mother, or be raised by an actual family. He was never able to relate to your childhood memories, having a cold glass of milk every day after school. In a way, drinking milk is the closest thing he has to connect to the childhood he missed out on, and nothing makes it better than being able to share this comforting experience with you, a person who truly cares for him.

"Mmm…" he mumbles, tipping his head back with his eyes still closed. His tense shoulders are now totally slack, letting go of the stress he's been holding onto all day, solely waiting for this moment.

"You like it?" you ask him, stroking his hand that is still on your shoulder.

"Yeah. They got a good batch this time," he remarks, licking his lips before downing the rest of the bottle. It leaves a delectable aftertaste on his tongue.

"What do you mean? Is unhomogenized milk not the same each time?" you ponder. To you, it tastes the same every month.

"Really?" he huffs in disbelief. Homelander takes his hand from your shoulder to start listing off on his fingers. "There's… there's so much that can effect the taste of milk! If there are preservatives or additives, what temperature it's pasteurized at, what the cow is eating… D-do you even know how the differences of the fat content can change the taste?"

You look up at him silently, grinning as he goes off on a tangent about the history of milk pasteurization and homogenization. Your innocent question about one of his passions has very easily gotten him riled up, although it doesn't take much to get him going on topics he loves. He's like a walking encyclopedia, and you cherish seeing him so invested in his hobby of learning new things.

"I love you, you know," you chuckle, leaning your head back onto his pecs. You catch a glimpse of Homelander's brain shutting down from your sudden praise. You took him right out of the middle of a rant, and instantly flustered him with your honest affection.

Putting your bottle down on the table, you turn around and kneel on his thighs so your face is up to his own. You giggle as he tries to angle away from you, hiding that his cheeks have turned red. However, he doesn't fight when you place your hands on his jaw and coax his face back towards you. His eyes are big blue windows into his soul, exposing how easily you overwhelm his emotions with the little ways you love him. But you can just as easily settle him down with those same little ways.

You lean in for a kiss, and bring your hands up to run them through his undercut. Almost immediately, Homelander sighs and closes his eyes, placing his hands on your back so he can sink into you. He purrs from the way your nails scratch his scalp, quickly letting go of that self-consciousness he felt from you bamboozling his train of thought with a simple 'I love you'.

When you break from your kiss, you keep your foreheads pressed together. His eyes open to gaze directly at you, now so serene. It's like you know how to flip the switch in his brain when he needs to calm down.

"You wanna have another bottle of milk? I'd love for you to tell me more about the different kinds," you say softly, caressing his cheek. A sneaky smile slowly spreads across his face.

"I haven't even gotten to modern milk production techniques yet," he chuckles, nuzzling into your nose. You can't help but laugh, but you know he's serious.

And you look forward to it, just to let Homelander have a chance to partake in something he wasn't permitted to enjoy when he was young. Just to allow him to get in touch with his inner child he neglects so heavily. Just to see that childlike innocence buried within himself have a chance to shine.

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing #i am lactose intolerant so i have no idea what i'm writing lmao

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flowerbxuquet · 1 year

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Enemies with benefits

Lottie matthews x fem!reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, 16+, degrading, Lottie is out of character, she’s a bitchy mean girl in this (actually just a scared pookie)

A/N: got a little carried away w this one guys i can’t lie..it’s 18.6k words….

Your heart is pounding.

It’s just a scrimmage, you shouldn’t be so serious about this but there’s only one reason you’re taking it so serious.

Lottie fucking Matthews is on your tail.

Lottie and you have been rivals for years and I mean YEARS. Ever since elementary school, Lottie was social and popular, while you were quite the opposite, shy and unknown. Lottie was also one of the richest families in town, you couldn’t say the same.

That always caused a certain distaste between you two. You two competed in everything, math, science, art, sports. That’s the whole reason you joined soccer, to beat and be better than Lottie.

You guys had been enemies for quite some time, until one night. Jackie was hosting a party and Lottie got super drunk, the both of you were shit faced and ended up drunkenly hooking up.

After it happened twice and then a third time..and then a fifth time. You both agreed to be enemies with benefits, you guys would act normal in public. Shitty to each other like usual, but in private if you needed to relieve stress, it was fair game.

Lottie elbows you in your side, knocking the wind out of you. Completely against the rules to touch another player as her leg swipes the ball away from you with a laugh.

“Good luck on the bench when coach sees how you’ve been playing lately!” Lottie calls out, not loud enough for Ben or Jackie to hear, otherwise they certainly wouldn’t have allowed the negative talk.

You growl in anger, huffing and puffing. Not even bothering to run after Lottie as your legs burn, Lottie’s running towards the goal and eventually makes it in.

Lottie plays aggressively during the practice, forty five damn minutes of her snarky remarks, teasing glances, and taking the ball from you at opportunity.

After a tiring practice, it’s finally over. Coach Ben hands out waters to everyone and dismisses the girls to the locker room.

You walk to the changing room. Your two closest friends on the team, Taissa and Van, bid goodbye to you. The door closes and everyone seems to be gone except for you as you start stripping yourself of your shirt.

You pull back on your regular clothes, gasping when you turn your head and have a heart attack at the sight of Lottie Matthews. You thought everyone was gone but she was leaning against the wall, a coy smirk on her face.

You hated how that damn smirk made you feel.

She doesn’t take her uniform off, just leans forwards and rests her chin on her hand with an arrogant smirk on her face as she watches you change.

“You think you’re so cute, don’t you? You’re not all that.” She remarks, trying to piss you off for no reason. That was Lottie’s favorite hobby, i mean, seriously, where did that comment even come from?

She knows, deep down, just how cute you actually are, that’s why Lottie even thought of it. But part of being ‘Lottie’ is not letting people know what you actually think.

Lottie couldn’t deny she had been feeling..different towards you lately. She got a bit too drunk during one of your hook ups and you immediately stopped, holding her close while she threw up and cuddling her when she asked.

It was the first time she had remembered when you cuddled her to sleep, Lottie was always a bit drunk that she had no idea you would just hold her instead of having sex when she was too drunk which happened a lot more frequently then she expected.

Lottie had no idea of all the things she’s told and said to you.

But when she did remember, Lottie just excused it as being drunk and acted like she didn’t even remember it. As if she didn’t remember how safe and warm she felt in your arms. When she realized she wanted more than just sex.

“You say the exact opposite whenever you’re drunk and trying to fuck me.” You hiss at her. The other girls had no idea about our little secret so you made sure no one was in the locker room before saying that.

You slam your locker door shut, ready to leave since it’s clear Lottie’s in a pissy mood today and you’re sure she doesn’t want to hook up right now, just be a bitch.

Truly, you felt sorry for the girl. You knew she was only a bitch because she was so rich and alone, her parents never home and leaving her by herself.

You liked the girl she was when she was vulnerable and shy, the few nights where she would be so drunk that you two wouldn’t even have sex.

Lottie would just cuddle you and talk, she never remembered it the next day. You did though.

Lottie told you about her parents and home life, she sounds like she lives a lonely life. Still doesn’t make her any less of a bitch though.

Your words sting to Lottie. They cut deep because they are true.

Lottie is the one who always initiates the hookups. She is the one who always makes the first move.

They’re good and they’re fun, but there’s not a lot of romance involved. Most of the time, no one is sober.

“You’re too needy. Desperate, even.” Lottie snaps. You can tell she wants you, she just doesn’t want you to know that you have the upper hand.

“Then stop trying to fuck me.” You say with a roll of your eyes and huff, not in the mood to entertain Lottie’s delusional tantrums right now.

You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, you had to walk home because no one could pick you up from practice and it sure as hell was a long ass walk.

And Lottie was just pissing you off.

“I only do it because I feel bad for you.” Lottie speaks with a dismissive smirk.

She’s not going to let you get away that easily. She pushes herself off from the locker and grabs your arm, trying to turn you around to face her.

You huff and turn around, grasping at both of her arms and slamming her against the lockers, pinning her up with a snarl even though you were shorter then her. (Lottie’s tall as fuck so that’s the only reason i added this but if ur taller then her ignore this💀)

“You know what I think, Lottie? I think you like pissing me off because you love how hard it makes me fuck you.”

You whisper seductively, a coy smirk on your face now.

“Don’t think i’ve forgotten. How everytime I have you, you’re begging me to touch you and you whimper and moan like a little slut.”

You watch as she turns as red as a tomato. You know that deep down there’s something more to your on-again-off-again hook-up. But she isn’t ready to talk about it yet and, until she is, you’re going to enjoy antagonizing her.

She squirms around in your grasp, her face a deep red.

You smirk.

“Stop fucking with me, Matthews. Or i’m going to make you forget your own name.”

You whisper seductively in her ear.

“But you’re such a slut, you’d probably like that.” You whisper once more before pulling away, satisfied that you have this power over Lottie as you move to walk away from her again, wanting to tease her and leave her desperate.

She snatches your wrist as you turn around, her eyes now filled with a look of desire as she slowly pulls you back towards her. She wraps her arms around your back, pushing you up against the lockers.

She speaks softly and seductively. “I can make you beg too.”

“Yeah, right.” You smirk and grab her, trying to flip your positions. You cant deny that you blush a bit and your stomach flutters when Lottie pins you to the wall.

You grab her and smash your lips onto hers, it’s not gentle in the slightest, it’s primal and messy as you two make out against the lockers, both of you grasping each other tightly.

It all feels so different now.

The tension between you is almost tangible.

She grabs at you, gripping the fabric of your shirt as she tries to push you back against the locker, her body pressed tightly against yours.

You taste her lip gloss, and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever experienced.

You push her against the locker wall and press your body against hers, the friction driving you wild as you feel the heat simmering between the two of you.

You grab her and lead her over to the bench, sitting her down while you kneel to her height and kiss her, not wanting to lose the taste of her sweet lip gloss.

You start to kiss down her neck, no one should walk in the locker room since it’s so late in the afternoon but you decided it would be safe to be quick about pleasuring Lottie.

You can feel your heart beating in your chest, your breath coming in steady pants as you slowly drag your lips down her neck.

She closes her eyes and bites her lower lip, giving away just how good you’re making her feel.

Her fingernails gently dig into your shoulders as she starts to squirm underneath you. Her breaths become slightly erratic and you can hear her breathing quicken as you move your lips lower.

“You’re so beautiful.” You whisper softly, not even realizing what you just said until the words slip out of your lips. You’ve complimented her before during sex, calling her “hot” or “sexy.”

But never beautiful..it felt much more intimate and you can tell it surprises Lottie too because she lets out a soft whimper.

You’re completely caught up in the moment, focused solely on making your ‘worst enemy’ feel good. Her body is perfect, it’s hard not to just look at her.

You kiss her inner thigh and Lottie moans softly, pushing her hips forward and moving her body to give you better access. She closes her eyes, her breathing becoming more shallow and excited.

She grabs onto your shoulders for support, pushing herself into your touch.

You grab her inner thighs and pull her onto your awaiting mouth. Worshipping her, the way you touch her is almost like you never hated her, it’s in such a loving and gentle way, focused on her pleasure.

The way Lottie moans and gasps fuels the movements and your body is screaming at you never to stop even if your jaw locks up.

Because how could you ever stop when there’s a literal angel up above, begging you not to?

These were the moments you didn’t hate Lottie Matthews, the times where she didn’t try to act all cold and strong.

But you knew the second it was over, she’d hate you again, and the cycle would continue.

Your lips feel like heaven against her skin, your tongue exploring and loving every inch of her.

It was easy to hate her, but now, seeing her like this, hearing her moans, feeling her body shake - it’s impossible.

Your lips move across her wet skin, her reactions spurring you on. The cycle always repeated itself but this time, you don’t want it to. There’s more to what you feel for Lottie. More than just hate or sexual tension - but love too. But will she ever admit it?

Your tongue is as gentle as you can make it on her skin. The kisses along her thighs, the gentle licking; You’re enjoying every second of this and Lottie’s pleasure only fuels your desire for more.

Your hand is resting on the side of her leg, squeezing softly from time to time.

You can smell her body, the aroma of her sweat and soap blending together in a pleasant symphony.

Your heart beats faster and faster as you continue. Eager to give her everything she needs.

You hear her deep breaths, her lips parted slightly. Her skin is soft and delicate as your tongue caresses and teases.

She’s not used to this kindness from you, not used to you being so gentle - yet so passionate.

Her leg trembles under your hand as you squeeze, as if her legs are weak and her soul is weak too.

She’ll never admit it but this is what she really wants. To feel safe. To feel loved.

You rub her thigh in a comforting manner, you don’t know why you were being so gentle. After Lottie was so damn rude to you earlier, you just couldn’t help it.

But in the moment, you just let yourself pleasure her, make her feel safe and good even though she’ll never actually admit it was good to you or herself.

When Lottie has a breakdown, when her fear and abandonment issues take control, she goes to you. Begging for sex. Begging to take the thoughts away because for some reason, it makes all her fears disappear.

She can never admit it to you though, she’s terrified. Terrified of rejection and being in a committed relationship. Scared that you’ll leave her.

It’s the only thing that helps her and the one thing she always needs, even if she hates admitting it.

Your tongue presses against her sensitive spot and she lets out a loud moan. Her legs squirm and move quickly against your face, her inner thighs pressing against your lips as her body trembles.

Her breaths become rapid, almost like a whimper.

She’s close.

Your tongue becomes faster and more forceful. eager to make her feel as good as possible, to show her how much she means to you right now.

Determined to give her something that nobody else ever could. The kind of pleasure she could only get from you.

You can’t tell where all this love and passion is coming from but it feels so real in this moment.

You know when this is over, she’ll go back to being cruel. But in this moment, it’s worth the pain.

She moans out your name, her grip on your back tightening to the point where your skin hurts, but you can take it. She squirms underneath you, her body pressing as hard as it can into yours.

Her legs shake and squirm, holding you as tight as possible. She moans your name again, her throat trembling as tears flow down her cheeks.

You see her look at you again and it’s like it opens your eyes for the first time.

You don’t just love her. You’re in love with her.

The thought makes you almost cry, because you know you can’t be in love with Lottie. She was everything you weren’t, pretty and rich and popular.

It pisses you off and your movements get deeper and rougher. Your fingers gripping her thighs and pulling her deeper onto your tongue.

You knew Lottie would never have you, not in any way other then this pleasurable feeling that she craves and then will move on and go flirt with one of the soccer boys as if she wasn’t just screaming your name.

As you continue, she lets out broken breaths between her cries.

“Y/n, oh Y/n,” she murmurs between her tears. “Y/n, Y/n...”

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” she continues, her body shaking as every thrust of your tongue drives her deeper into the pleasure and bliss.

Her fingers dig into your wrist and her legs wrap tightly around you.

Her words, her pleas, they’re all the proof you need. She hates you but needs you in this moment.

You growl, the way she’s crying from pleasure and saying she hates you. It hurts, you know you can’t have her and you’re stupid for falling in love with her.

Everyone knows Lottie Matthews is a heartbreaker.

You add your fingers to the mix, not giving her time to adjust. Starting to ram them into her soaking pussy along with your tongue.

You want to make her never forget this, want her to know that although she may hate you, you’re the only one who can make her scream in this way.

“Y/N!” She screams between breaths as tears flow down her face.

You feel yourself becoming more rough, more brutal. You want her to know how much this means to you, you wish she would admit she loves you.

She tries to speak, but words of praise and emotion are too hard for her to speak.

“Y/n.. Y/n,” she whispers gently. She grabs your hand, pulling it into the depths of her and moaning softly.

You crash your lips onto hers, your fingers pounding her. You want to cry, want to scream, you’re in love with her but she won’t ever see you as anything more than the nerd who makes her feel good sometimes.

You end up letting a few tears fall down your face but if Lottie notices, she doesn’t mention it because you’re kissing her so hard and your fingers are just a blur of movement between her legs because they’re going so fast.

“I hate you so fucking much.” You whisper, your voice shaking as your fingers pound between her legs.

It’s not true. you don’t hate her. She was beautiful but she was such a bitch, but the moments where she was drunk and snuggled into you after hooking up was the only time you ever saw her truly.

And you wanted it.

You didn’t want anyone else to see her the way you did.

But you hate her for making you feel like this, it pisses you off. You want to hate her, you want to, you thought you truly did but you can’t and you never will.

She whines through her tears, pulling you closer as her fingers wrap around your wrist, her back arching up slightly as she moans out your name again.

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n..”

“I-I hate you..!” She whimpers once more, but between the words, there’s only love, love for you and what you’re making her feel.

She tries to speak again, but just like before, the words get stuck. All that comes out are soft and quiet, almost incomprehensible “I hate you’s” and more soft moans of pleasure.

Whenever she says she hates you, it makes your movements even tougher. Your body is rocking with hers and going so fast that the noises are smacking throughout the room.

“Shut up.”

You plead when she cries out your name, it sounds beautiful on her lips and it makes you love her even more and you hate it.

You just want her to come, so you’re done with this, but you also never want it to stop.

“Y/N, Y-Y/N, Y/N!” Lottie gasps loudly, her tears slowly running down her face as she shakes and moans out your name over and over again.

That’s all you can hear in the room, her voice, your name, your actions. And how much she hates you.

Then, suddenly, you feel her muscles flex around your fingers as her body tenses. You feel her shake and groan and moan as her body erupts into pleasure.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Her noises fills you up and you feel her squeeze you tight.

You hold her and slow down your fingers to help her ride out her orgasm. Lottie’s body is twitching and riding your fingers as she lets out soft cries, her cum gushing on your fingers.

After she calms down, you pull your fingers out and wipe them on your jeans (gross).

You just fell in love with Lottie.

Your enemy..

While you were literally fucking her..

You’re a bit overwhelmed, and you feel like Lottie can almost tell that that sex was a bit more..intense then you guys agreed for it to be.

You want to hold her, to kiss her, to ask her if she’s okay. But you guys both agreed not do that. After care will get you attached.

“So..um..do you, uh..need anything?” You ask with a nervous voice as you watch Lottie shakily stand up and pull her skirt back up.

Lottie scoffs, back to her bitchy self.

“We agreed not to do that shit.” Lottie bites back at you, grabbing her backpack. Not even saying goodbye to you as she storms out of the locker room on shaky legs like you didn’t just give her the most intense orgasm.

You sigh and grab your backpack, usually she was cold after sex but not that cold..

Little did you know.

Lottie was panicking as she walked to her car.

She had fallen in love with you, too.

#i’m so scared #never posted smut before #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews smut #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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mackenzielovee · 2 years

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parenthood part twenty three: forever & always, and then some

a/n: oh boy! 12k words to (hopefully) feed your parenthood craving. i am already dying to know what you all think of this, so please don't hesitate to hop into the comments or my ask box to talk! hope you enjoy! reblogs are appreciated :)

warnings: angst warning. swearing, verbal arguments, anxiety, panic attack, crying, kissing

ambivalence masterlist , parenthood masterlist

The Island Club hasn’t changed one bit since you were employed here and running drinks around to Rafe and his friends before you knew he even had a crush on you. As you watch the waitresses make their rounds to the same customers, serving the same food to the same tables, you chuckle to yourself at the thought of ever having to deal with that again.

Scott sits across from you, fidgeting in his seat slightly as he holds himself back from pulling a cigarette from his pocket. You skim over him, taking in his appearance.

His hair is freshly cut and the rosiness is back in his cheeks after having disappeared for so long. He’s eating three meals a day again, and to you, it seems his only unhealthy habit is smoking. In time, you’re sure he will move past that.

“How’re the kids?” he asks, looking up at you.

“They’re good,” you reply, “They’re busy bees lately. Connor is starting on a soccer team, so Rafe’s been helping him practice.”

“That’s awesome,” Scott grins, and the sight makes you smile, “Kid always has had one hell of a kick. What about Josie girl?”

You chuckle, “She’s all about dance, recently. She wants me to sign her up for a class, and I’ve been trying to get this teacher to call me back about getting her in.”

“Wow. Good for her. She’s so driven, Y/N. They both are.”

“Yeah, they’re something,” you laugh.

He gives you a smile, but it fades fast before he asks, “And, Rafe?”

“He’s doing really well. He’s less stressed at work, and he’s spending a lot of time with the kids.”

Scott nods, “Is he still… y’know? Pissed at me?”

You sigh and look down at your lap, unwilling to respond right away. Rafe’s feelings toward Scott have been complicated ever since he showed up to the house and scared the shit out of you and the kids, even though you’ve worked through it and have encouraged Rafe to do the same. Your loyalty to your brother runs deeper than Rafe’s does — because, as he puts it, he will always choose the safety and security of his family. Especially his children.

“He’s not pissed, Scott,” you say carefully.

“Right, he’s just done with me,” he laughs dryly, “Look, it’s fine, Y/N. I get it.”

You nod, and when your waiter drops your plates in front of you, you’re relieved when Scott eats his meal and has several glasses of water.

He tells you about the new job he just started and how he’s finally, officially, cut ties with Mae after she’s yanked him around for over a year. How he’s attending regular AA meetings and actually participating in them. He’s even made a few friends in the group, and they go out to eat together after their meetings to keep themselves busy.

By the time he pays for your lunch and walks you out to your car, you can’t help but pull him into a tight embrace. He hugs you back and gives you a wide smile, silently telling you that he really is doing better.

“So, listen, I was kinda hoping I could see them soon,” he says, clarifying, “The kids.”

You know you should run it by Rafe first, but the look in Scott’s eye and the pride swelling in your heart at his improvement has you answering faster than you should.

“That would be great,” you nod.

He smiles, “Perfect. How about Wednesday afternoon? I don’t have to be at work ‘til six. Do they have sports or anything?”

You hold up a finger and check the calendar on your phone, finding nothing for yourself or either of the kids on Wednesday after they get home from school.

“Wednesday works,” you reply, “I’ll bring them to your apartment.”

“Awesome,” he beams, then pulls you in for another hug, “Thank you so much, Y/N. I can’t wait.”

“The kids will be very excited,” you tell him, squeezing him tight.

He laughs lightly, sounding like himself and making you relax even more. He’s finally in a better place, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Scott opens your car door for you and then closes it once you’re inside. He stands there and watches as you back out, then offers you a wave before you drive away. You smile the whole way home, thankful beyond belief that your brother is doing right by himself and improving his life where he needs it.

When you get home, Rafe is in the kitchen. You smile at the sight of him at the stove, stirring peppers around a skillet and listening to music. You can hear the kids playing in the playroom, and when Rafe notices you come in, he steps away from the food and to you.

“Hey, baby, how was lunch?” he asks, helping you remove your jacket.

“It was good,” you say with a smile, “Club hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Nah, I figured as much.”

He hangs up your jacket and your purse for you, then steps back over and guides his arm around your waist. You smile and set your hands on his chest, feeling his warmth.

“How are the kids?” you ask him.

“Josie hid Connor’s firetruck underneath the couch, and Bo got it,” he fills you in, watching your eyes pop in horror, “He was very distraught.”

“Oh, no, poor baby,” you pout, “I’ll see if I can find another one for him tomorrow.”

Rafe grins, “You’re so good to them, they don’t even know it.”

You laugh and grab ahold of his chin lightly, pulling him down to give him a kiss. He accepts it, then offers you a small apology as he momentarily breaks away to pull the skillet off the heat and to the back burner.

When he moves back to you, assuming the same position, you swallow your nervousness of breaching the topic, and instead, slip your hands under his shirt.

“So, listen,” you start, “Scott got a job. He’s working nights right now, and he goes after his AA meetings. He seems really, really good.”

He nods patiently, but you can tell by his eyes that he’s not receptive whatsoever to where you’re going to take this conversation.

“That’s good,” he replies, his voice even.

“Yeah, it is,” you say hopefully, rising up on your tiptoes, “So, anyway, he was asking if he could see the kids on Wednesday before he has to work.”

Rafe raises a brow, “And what did you tell him?”

You swallow again and press your palms into his skin, hoping your touch will lighten him up.

“Well, I… I think it’s a good idea. It would be good for him, and the kids miss him.”

Rafe’s chest deflates against your hands, and only because you know him so well can you predict what he’s going to say next.

“Look, sweetheart, I’m thrilled that Scott is doing better. I am. I just don’t think this is the best time for that. Josie’s still adjusting to school, and Connor’s getting settled in a new classroom and he’s on a sports team. I feel like they have enough change going on right now, you know?”

You nod slowly, but look to the floor. He covers your hands with his own and takes them, bringing both of your knuckles up to his lips to kiss. You meet his eyes then, and you both take a second to analyze the other person’s expression.

“It’s not really a change, though,” you push, keeping your voice light, “It’s just Scott.”

“Y/N, Scott scared the shit out of both of them when he showed up drunk.”

“I know, but he apologized for that,” you reply.

Rafe drops your hands, “That doesn’t make it okay. To be honest, I’m just not comfortable with it. I need more time to work through things with him. I’m sorry, but can we please table this for now?”

You move to speak up, but bite your tongue at the very last second when one specific thought hits you. If you told Rafe you weren’t comfortable with something, he’d never fight with you on it. He would never pressure you into anything, and the thought of doing that to him makes your stomach turn.

“Yes, of course,” you answer, “Thank you for being straight with me. We can talk about it when you’re ready.”

Rafe shifts and sets one large palm on your hip bone, where he pulls your body closer to his.

“I’m not saying no, sweetheart. I’m just saying that I’d like to give it a little more time and make sure Scott really sticks to this change before we bring the kids back into it. That’s all.”

You nod and offer him a smile, “I understand, Rafe. I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Thank you,” he says sweetly, “Now, Connor and I are making a grocery store run. Need anything?”

You step closer, “Coffee. And laundry pods for the washer. But not the blue and white ones—”

“The green and yellow ones, I know,” he teases, “I also put a stick of deodorant on the list for you, considering you went to throw it in the garbage this morning and fuckin’ banked the shot.”

“Excuse me,” you scoff, even though your heart swells at the fact that he not only noticed that, but also remembered it and put it on the list, “We need more bananas, too. You know what Josie’s like when we run out of those for her lunch.”

He laughs, “Yeah. Okay. Bananas, coffee, and laundry pods. I’ve got the rest of the list, but text me if you remember anything okay?”

“Okay,” you smile, “Thanks, handsome.”

He nods and signals for a kiss, grinning when you stand up on your tiptoes to give to him. When you pull back, he yells for Connor, knowing Josie will come running, too.

“Oh, hey, did that lady ever call you back about Josie’s dance class?” he asks.

“No,” you groan, “I’m hoping she will in the next few days. Otherwise, I’ll look somewhere else. I just heard that place is so good, I really wanted her to try it out.”

He shrugs, “She’ll be great anywhere. Come on, Connor! Shoes and jacket, hurry!”

He kisses you again quickly before he pulls away to get his own shoes and jacket, finishing in record time so he could steal just a few more kisses before the Sunday chores officially start.

Monday comes before you know it, and it brings a wave of destruction. Your meetings all get delayed, your work project is put on suspension, and Rose is driving you crazy about an upcoming event that you’re not even technically assigned to.

Even more than that, Josie had a day. She refused to let go of you when you dropped her off at preschool, and after you managed to escape, they called you twice and Rafe once to report that she would not stop crying and demanding one of you to come get her. Being the parent at home on Mondays, Rafe picked her up, and she sat with him in his home office for the remainder of the day.

Tuesday morning finds you easier. You’re seated at your desk and fire up your work email after dropping both kids off at school — Josie did better today — when you realize that you never told Scott that the plans for tomorrow are off.

You draft up a text message slowly over the next few hours, trying to sound equal parts assertive and sympathetic. At one o’clock, right before you send the text, your drafting is interrupted by a phone call. The nurse at Connor’s school tells you that he’s been running a fever and complaining of a stuffy nose and sore throat since before lunch. You sigh and agree to be right there to get him, then hit send on the text to Scott without thinking twice about it.

You return home with both Connor and Josie behind you. Well, Josie walks behind you while Connor lays in your arms, mumbling softly about how he feels cold despite his fever being high. Josie helps you the best she can to get Connor settled in his room, where you lay him in bed and put a light blanket over him, then get him a cup of water and take his temperature once more. It’s still high, so you give him a kiss and tell him to sleep for a bit before you come back up to check on him.

“Is Connor okay, Mommy? Can we make him some soup?” Josie asks as the two of you slip out of his bedroom.

You smile and pick her up, giving her a hug since you didn’t get to when you picked her up from school.

“We should make him some soup,” you agree, “And, I’m sure you’re ready for your after-school snack, too.”

She grins mischievously, “Maybe.”

You laugh and carry her downstairs to the kitchen, where your phone sits on the counter. The screen fills with unanswered texts, so you set Josie down and grab it, scrolling through the messages.

The first one you open is Rafe’s chain. Two from him — both exactly what you expected them to be.

Just got a notification you checked Connor out of school? Is everything okay?

I’ve got a meeting in half an hour but I can come home after if you need me.

You look over at Josie, watching as she uses the handle on the bottom oven as a balance beam for ballet. Your heart squeezes, and you make a mental note to reach out to other dance studios in the area tomorrow.

Quickly, you text Rafe back while stepping over to the pantry to get Josie a snack.

He’s sick, but okay. Slight fever and head cold. Nothing to worry about. Good luck on your meeting, handsome. I love you.

He returns the sentiment quickly, while also reminding you to call him if things change. Then, as you pour animal crackers into a bowl, you switch over to Scott’s text chain.

First, you reread the text you sent to him.

Hey, so I discussed things with Rafe, and we have decided to hold off on allowing the kids to come over. For now. We think it’s best to give you some more adjustment time, and then we can revisit the idea. I’m sorry, Scott. But, I will try to do better by sending you more pics of them. Just hang in there. Love you.

You know it’s not perfect, but it has to do. It gets your point across, it doesn’t blame Rafe, and it’s sugar coated just enough for him.

His reply follows your message, and the length looks drastically different.

Y/N, I’m adjusted. I just want to see them. Didn’t you tell Rafe I’m doing better? Why is he keeping them from me?

“Mommy!” Josie calls, standing at the kitchen window, “There’s a red bird on the fence!”

You frown at Scott’s text but lock your phone, then carry Josie’s snack over to her. You look out the window to where she’s pointing and find the cardinal that’s holding her attention so well.

“Wow, beautiful, huh?” you ask, and she nods before you say, “Okay, come on. Let’s sit at the table and have a snack.”

She obeys and sits in her usual seat at the table, smiling widely when you follow her. You sit with her while she eats and talk to her about her day at school, listening intently even as she tells you the same story for ten entire minutes.

You perk up when you hear the front door close. You know Rafe wouldn’t be coming into the house with his meeting coming up, and a fresh wave of worry passes through your body.

“Y/N?”

You relax when you hear Scott’s voice, but only for a second. He knows he’s not allowed to come to the house; you had talked Rafe out of taking Scott’s key from him after his latest episode.

Josie, like you, recognises the voice, and practically tips her chair right over as she attempts to get up.

“Uncle Scott!”

Her scream is loud, and she takes off from the kitchen before you can stop her. You groan internally, scrambling to already try and figure out what you’re going to say to Rafe. Despite it all, you follow Josie out of the kitchen and to the foyer, where she is currently diving into Scott’s open arms.

“Hey, lovebug,” he grins widely, “Wasn’t sure you’d be home from school yet. I’m so happy to see you!”

She locks herself around his neck and presses kiss after kiss to his cheek, laughing when he laughs.

“I’ve missed you,” she tells him, “Where have you been?”

He smiles sadly, then returns her kisses with his own, “I’ve been getting myself together. For you and Connor. Are you proud of me?”

“Yes,” she giggles, “Want to have an after school snack with me?”

His smile at her question tells you just how much the question means to him, and when he looks over at you for approval, you just can’t say no. Not to Scott; not to your baby brother who has struggled so much for so long, and just needs a little bit of love to keep him going. You can’t fault him for that, and no part of you is able to even consider kicking him out. Even if it’s not what you and Rafe have discussed and agreed on, you hope that when you explain, he will understand.

You nod your head, and he turns and kisses her cheek again, like he just can’t help himself.

“I would love to,” he agrees.

Scott carries her into the kitchen and you follow. He sets her down and lets her run over to her chair, but he hangs back just long enough to talk to you.

“I’m sorry, I just came over to talk about your text. I didn’t think she’d be here—”

“It’s fine,” you reply, waving him off, “Connor’s home sick from school, so I picked her up because I can’t leave him to go get her later.”

He nods, “Do you need me to bring you anything for him? Soup? Gatorade?”

“No, I have it covered,” you reply, “Go. She’s waiting so patiently for you.”

He chuckles when he sees her sitting on her knees in the chair, waving him over with an animal cracker half shoved into her mouth. Without hesitation, he rushes over and takes a seat beside her, stealing one of her animal crackers and laughing when she protests.

You puff out your cheeks and check the time, wondering if you can squeeze in a quick call to Rafe before his meeting. When you decide you can’t, you set your phone back down. You’re here, you’re supervising, and he won’t be mad, you tell yourself. Scott can’t do anything wrong with you here, too.

Your phone’s sharp ring draws you out of your head. When you look to see who’s calling, you gasp and practically pounce on the phone — the dance school that you’ve been trying to get Josie into.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Cameron?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“Hi there. My name is Chelsea, I’m calling to see if you are still interested in signing your daughter, Josephine, up for dance class?”

“Yes,” you say enthusiastically, waving to Scott and then holding up your finger as you step into the living room, “Yes, I am. She’s really excited to start.”

“Oh, wonderful. We actually have an opening today in our three o’clock class. It’s only one spot, but if you could bring her by today, I can almost guarantee it would be hers.”

You freeze, “Today?”

“Yes ma’am. Spots here tend to go fast, but I saw your last name, and we wanted to offer you and your daughter the spot, first.”

“Oh,” you say, brain running a mile a minute as you try to figure out how to make this all work out, “Um, yes, thank you, we’d love the spot. I just have a few things to work out, but I will do my best to get her there by three o’clock. Does she need to bring anything?”

“We’ll just do a trial run for today, so we have everything she will need here. If you all are interested in continuing after today, we can give you a list of everything she will need for future classes.”

You barely even hear her words, too busy trying to figure out how you’re supposed to be in two places at once. You want Josie to be in this dance school desperately, but with Connor being so sick, you don’t know how to make it happen.

“Thank you, I’ll try to work it out and have her there at three,” you say, trying to sound more chipper than you are, “Thank you so much for calling.”

“Yes ma’am. See you soon!”

You disconnect the call and let out a long sigh, having wanted that phone call to come at a better time than just now. You wander back into the kitchen and find Scott and Josie still giggling at the kitchen table, and when they both look over at you, you offer a smile.

“Who was that?” Scott asks.

You give Josie a smile, “It was the dance studio I’ve been trying to get Josie into. They have an opening for this afternoon.”

“No way!” she exclaims, “Mommy, we have to go!”

Scott can see it on your face before you can even say a word. He watches as you subconsciously glance back over your shoulder, desperate to check on Connor and not sure what to do. Under normal circumstances, you’d call Rafe — at least to just talk it out. But with him in a meeting and unavailable, you don’t have that option.

“I can take her,” Scott volunteers, “I know you won’t leave Connor, so let me take her to dance. Just there and back, I promise.”

“Yes!” Josie screams, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, Mommy, yes!”

You shake your head, “Scott—”

“Y/N, let me help you out,” he says, “Come on. I can do it.”

“Mommy,” Josie repeats, “I want Uncle Scott to take me to dance.”

“Scott,” you whisper, “You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“And you’re drowning,” he points out, “I swear. I can totally handle it. I’ll even video the whole thing for you. Please, come on, let me prove myself to you. To Rafe.”

At the mention of your husband, your eyes find your phone. You want to call him more than anything, but you can’t. Then, you think about the agreement amongst parents when they’re raising children together. There are so many split second decisions that a parent has to make, so they trust that their partner will make the right one. Rafe trusts that you will make the right decision for your shared children, and right now, you can only see one.

“Okay,” you sigh. Josie’s squeals interrupt you and Scott grins, grabbing her from her chair as you add, “Just there and back. No ice cream, no playground. Just to the studio and back, alright?”

“Alright,” Scott repeats back, still smiling, “We’re gonna have so much fun, right, lovebug?”

“Right!” she squeals.

“Josie, go get your shoes, okay?” you say, watching her nod feverishly, like she just can’t wait for Scott to put her down so they can go to dance.

“Okay!” she says quickly, rushing off.

Scott laughs as he watches her go, and when he turns back to you, his expression falls.

“I need you to take extensive notes,” you say sternly, watching his smile grow once more.

“You got it,” he replies.

You allow yourself to smile, too, and he pulls you into a hug. He squeezes his thankfulness into you, and only pulls away when Josie returns with her shoes.

You hurry upstairs to check on Connor after putting Josie in her car seat and into Scott’s truck. As you feel Connor’s forehead, he stirs and groans, but he still feels very warm.

“Mama?” he whispers into the air.

“Hey, baby,” you reply, “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” he whines, “I’m cold. And I need a tissue.”

You grab the box from his nightstand and offer him one, then help him sit up. He blows his nose and hands the tissue back to you, then lays back down.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll bring you some more medicine in a little bit, okay?”

He nods. His lower lip juts out in the pout he always gives you when he’s sick, so you lean down and kiss his forehead before you stand. You retuck his blanket around him, then use careful steps to escape the dark room.

Downstairs, you hurry into the kitchen and start heating up from soup for Connor, then pour out the next dose of his medicine. You make him a nice tray of everything so he can eat in bed; complete with crackers, a water bottle, and his iPad so he can watch a show while he eats. Just as you’re putting the finishing touches on it, ready to take it upstairs and check on him again, your phone buzzes on the counter. And buzzes. And buzzes.

Scott’s contact picture lights up your screen, and you furrow your brows as you check the time. They should just be getting to the dance studio, and you wonder if someone had questions for him that he couldn’t answer.

“Hello?” you say innocently.

“Y/N,” he sighs, almost in relief, but his voice also holds another emotion, too, “Listen, don’t freak out.”

You freeze, “What? Why?”

The worst possible scenarios go through your brain instantly, and you begin to listen for signs of Josie in the background. Her laugh, her whine at Scott to hurry up.

“Just let me get it all out, first,” he demands, then groans in pain, “Fuck, okay, we got into an accident. Josie is fine. Not hurt at all. I think I broke my arm, so I’m in an ambulance. They’re taking both of us to the hospital, but she’s right here, she’s good, she’s with me.”

You suddenly can’t suck in a deep breath. All you can picture is Josie in the back of an ambulance, hurt. Josie in a car accident. Josie being scared because she doesn’t understand what’s happening.

Tears blur your vision just at the thought of her being alone, and the inhale that you try to suck in is sharp and quick.

“Let me speak to her,” you choke out.

Scott sighs but complies with your request, and you listen to their muffled voices before you get clarity.

“Mommy, Uncle Scott is hurt,” she tells you, and just the sound of her voice brings relief to your body, mind, and heart.

“Josie, baby, are you okay?” you ask her, letting the tears run without a care in the world.

“Yes, Mommy. They let me put the siren on.”

You laugh, then cry again, “Oh, that’s awesome. Listen, Mommy’s gonna come pick you up, okay? Can you just stay with Uncle Scott for a little bit?”

Josie immediately whines, “No, he’s hurt. I have to stay with him. I told Daddy I am staying.”

A fresh wave of anxiety runs through your body. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind yet, but apparently, it had to Josie.

“You told Daddy?” you ask weakly, “When?”

“I called him,” she answers, “I was scared, and wanted Daddy.”

“Oh,” your eyes flutter shut, “Okay, honey. Just stay with Uncle Scott until I see you. I love you so much, Jo.”

“Love you, too, Mommy,” she says, sounding perfectly fine, perfectly normal, and all you want to do is get to her.

She hands the phone back to Scott, and you hear him grunt again in pain before his voice comes through the speaker.

“”Y/N, I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “It wasn’t my fault, I swear, I did everything right—”

“I’m on my way,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear any of the details right now, “Just… I love you. I’m glad you’re okay other than the arm.”

He takes a minute to answer, and you can see the exact expression on his face as he debates what’s best to do right now.

“Thanks,” he eventually says, “I love you, too.”

“See you soon,” you mumble, then disconnect the call before either one of you can say anything else.

The first thing you do is check your text messages. Rafe has sent nothing, said nothing. When it comes to Rafe, you know silence from him is worse than anything else. You take a deep breath and attempt to type out a text to him, but delete it before you can find the words to explain to him any part of it.

With a long sigh, you hurry up the stairs and into Connor’s room, forgetting all about his soup and medicine. He sits up when you enter, and when he sees the expression on your face, his eyes widen.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” he asks, coughing after he finishes his question.

“We have to go, baby. Can you come with me, please?”

He nods and stands from his bed, bringing his blanket along with him. You put socks on his feet and slide his shoes on, then carry him down the stairs, wrapped in his blanket. Your mind can’t stop running wild as you picture Josie in Scott’s truck, scared out of her mind. You don’t even notice the tears that fall until Connor reaches up and brushes them away with his finger. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, you strap him into his car seat and pull back to look at his face.

“I’m so sorry, handsome,” you whisper, “I know you don’t feel well, but we have to go pick up Josie.”

“Okay, Mama,” he replies, even going so far as to offer you a small smile.

You’re grateful for it, and you show him such. With a kiss on the cheek, you close the car door and climb into the driver’s side, all while trying not to burst into tears again.

Your knuckles turn white as you squeeze the steering wheel, glancing up at Connor every five seconds in the rear view mirror. He’s still okay, still staring out the window, but you’re paranoid about every single car that even comes close to yours.

The drive to the hospital finally comes to an end, and you’ve barely parked your car before you’re out of it again. Connor is once again placed on your hip, and you rush in from the parking lot.

Once you’re inside, you hurry to the closest nurse you can find. She directs you to a desk, who directs you to another nurse, who, finally, tells you what room number to go to. Connor buries his head in your neck and starts to cough again, and the guilt piles on top of your chest.

You finally spot the room number on the wall and rush to it, just needing to lay eyes on her. To assess her for injuries and make sure that she really is okay. When you enter, you relax instantly. Scott is laying in the bed with his arm in a sling, and Josie is seated in the middle of his chest, giggling as he pokes her stomach. They both look so happy despite their current state and what they’ve been through in the past hour.

“Josie,” you sigh in relief, setting Connor down in the singular chair before hurrying to her and pulling her into your arms.

“Mommy,” she cheers, “Look, Uncle Scott got a boo-boo.”

You cradle her head and rock her in your arms, then glance at Scott. He’s giving you a sad smile and a wave using his bad arm, but you shake your head at him.

“Is it broken?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he replies with a shrug, “I’ll get a cool brace for it, though.”

You roll your eyes, “Scott—”

“Y/N,” he stops you, his expression suddenly serious, “The guy ran a red light. I didn’t even see him coming until— Look, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my fault.”

“I know,” you nod, and you mean it.

He’s your brother, and you believe him. Especially because he needs you to so desperately, given that he won’t stop trying to explain himself.

“Good. Now, I have to use the bathroom, then I want to see what’s going on with Little Cam. You don’t look so hot, dude.”

Connor shrugs, “Been better.”

Scott chuckles and stands from the hospital bed, taking two steps over to Connor.

“You like my sling?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Connor smiles, “Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m tough.”

Connor laughs and so does Josie, and for a brief moment, you feel emotionally stable. You feel at peace, knowing that everyone is okay.

Then, the door pushes open, and reality slaps you right in the face. You turn too late, and Rafe’s eyes have already assessed the room. He’s frozen for a moment, long enough for you to set Josie down, because you know she’ll want to run to him.

Instead of waiting on that, however, Rafe crosses the room in a few strides, and you figure out just a beat too late what’s going to happen.

With a clenched jaw and a balled fist, Rafe states at Scott right as he starts to explain what happened.

“Yo, Rafe—” he starts, but Rafe’s fist connects with his jaw and knocks him flat on the ground.

“Oh, my God,” you yell, grabbing Josie and holding her against you while you reach for Connor’s hand.

Your only focus is getting them both out of the room. You know Scott can fight his own battles, and there’s nothing you can do to talk to Rafe when he’s like this. Looking like he knows this, Scott remains on the ground, leaving Rafe with nothing. He’s dead silent as he turns and faces you and the kids, looking away from you within the same second your eyes meet.

“Josephine,” Rafe says in relief, crossing over to you and pulling her from you without a word or a look, “Hey, princess. My girl. I was so worried about you. Are you okay?”

She nods, “Yes, Daddy. I just got scared.”

“I know you did, baby. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to comfort you. Do you have any injuries?”

Josie doesn’t respond right away, and you take it as an opportunity.

“She’s okay. I checked her when I got here.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker to you for only a moment. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him look at you with anything besides pure admiration and love. This time, his glance is cold, calculated, and practically unrecognizable.

“Let me take you home,” he says to her, “I’m gonna take you home, and nobody will ever take you anywhere again.”

“Except for you?” she asks.

“Except for me,” he replies with a nod, “Let’s take Bubby home, too, okay?”

Your heart sinks as Rafe looks down at Connor, who is gripping his blanket tightly. When Rafe offers him a hand, Connor slips out of your grasp and takes it.

You frown, “I can take—”

“Y/N, I’m so damn pissed right now. You need to stay with your brother, since that’s clearly where you want to be.”

He doesn’t even look at you as he says it, which is what makes the tears come. He’s too busy fussing over Josie’s hair and Connor’s runny nose. Rafe grabs him a tissue, then tosses it when Connor’s done.

You look over at Scott and find him still seated on the floor, blood running down his chin from his nose, and he’s just staring at the kids. You’re sure he thinks this could be his final time seeing them in a long time, and you feel sick over that.

“Rafe,” you choke out, “Please, just listen—”

“No,” he snaps, “Not to you. I’m taking them home.”

Connor whimpers, but when Rafe takes his hand again, he doesn’t object as his dad starts to lead him out of the room. Nobody says a word, and before you can blink, the three of them are gone.

“Fuck,” Scott groans from the floor, “Y/N, I’m so—”

“Don’t,” you shake your head, turning back to him and observing his state before stepping over and offering him a hand, “Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

Scott gets released from the hospital a few hours later, and you drive him back to his apartment. Neither of you speak about anything other than the weather and your parents, because neither of you know what to say. You want to pretend like everything is fine. At least for now.

You set him up on his couch with dinner, snacks, and a blanket, then let him know that you love him no matter what. In return, he offers you his room if you need a place to crash, and you almost burst into tears right then and there.

By the time you make it home, you know the kids will already be in bed. You debate taking the long way, but the fact that Connor is sick draws you back to the house so you can check on him.

You pull your car into the garage and shut it off, then get out quickly before you can debate sitting inside for a while. You sigh and push open the door to the house, not knowing exactly what you’re walking into with Rafe.

The house is dark and silent. There’s no plate of dinner sitting on the counter for you like he usually leaves behind, and no light on in the living room to guide your path to bed. With a heavy heart, you head upstairs and peek your head into Connor’s bedroom. He’s sound asleep with a box of tissues and an empty medicine cup on his nightstand.

Of course Rafe took care of everything.

Quietly, you close his bedroom door and cross the hall over to Josie’s bedroom. When you peek in, you find her bed to be empty, but her stuffed animals are missing. Immediately, you know where she is.

You hesitate at the door to your shared bedroom with Rafe for a brief moment, then push open the door and walk inside. Rafe’s bedside lamp is on, which allows you to see him lying on his side of the bed on his side, with Josie facing him. She’s tucked in his arms and sleeping soundly, but Rafe is wide awake and watching every single breath she draws.

He never looks over at you. For a moment, you wonder if he even realizes you came into the room. When your lips part to speak, no sound comes out. You don’t know what to say or where to start.

“She could’ve been killed,” Rafe says evenly, like he’s stating a fact rather than getting emotional. His eyes don’t leave her for even a split second.

“Rafe—” you start, but he sits up carefully.

“Don’t wake her. I just got her to sleep.”

You silence yourself and stare at the two of them for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. After a moment, Rafe leans forward and brushes his lips over Josie’s forehead, then stands from the bed. He walks over to you, watching as you stand completely still in hopes that he’ll just take you into his arms and tell you that everything will be okay. Instead, he clenches his jaw and points to the door of the bedroom, silently telling you to walk through it.

Rafe follows out of the room behind you and closes the door softly. You walk out to the couch and sit down, watching his movements extra carefully. He’s in sweatpants and a black tee shirt that you’ve always loved on him, but never told him so.

You watch as he takes a deep breath, then places his hands on his hips. He doesn’t sit; he stands in front of you and keeps his eyes on anything but you.

“Why was she with your brother?”

His tone is harsh; like nothing you say in this moment could make sense to him. None of it will make any difference at all.

“Um,” you shift, your voice shaky, “She— no, okay, the dance studio called and— wait—”

“Y/N,” Rafe stops you, exhaling loudly, “I just want you to explain why she was with your brother.”

You nod, “Okay. Sorry. So, I texted Scott and told him that we weren’t comfortable having the kids see him right now. He came over here to talk to me in person, thinking the kids weren’t home, and Josie saw him. So, naturally, she wouldn’t let him go, and he was just gonna have a snack with her and then leave. But, then, that dance studio called and said they had a spot for Josie this afternoon, and the spot was going to be given away if we couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to leave Connor, and Scott offered, and— Rafe, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, hands still proudly glued to his hips. His eyes close under the explanation, and the way his jaw is set tells you that, although it might make sense to him, he still isn’t happy or satisfied with the explanation.

“You should have called me,” he says quietly, “I would’ve helped you work it out. I would’ve come home.”

“You were in a meeting, I didn’t want to bother you—”

“Bother me, Y/N!” he exclaims, silencing you, “Bother me. Every time. If it means I don’t get the fucking call that one of my kids has been in a car accident with someone I didn’t even want them around in the first place. How could you let her go with Scott? After we discussed it and agreed that he was off limits, you just—”

“I didn’t see any other choice,” you speak up, “I didn’t want them to give the spot away.”

“Let them give the damn spot away, then!” he cries, shaking his head, “I told you, she’d be fine dancing anywhere, but you were so dead set on this one place, and that was fine with me until you shipped her off with your brother and he almost got our daughter killed—”

“Rafe, the accident wasn’t his fault,” you say, finally having the courage to stand, “He loves her. He would never put her at risk.”

He laughs then, and it’s deep, loud, sarcastic. Your eyes hit the floor and you swallow, wanting nothing more than his touch. Despite Rafe being the one causing the ache in your chest, you know he’s the only one who can fix it. He’s the only one who can ever fix it.

“He did put her at risk, Y/N. Many times. Every time he showed up drunk, every time he stumbled down the stairs. It’s not a fucking coincidence that this happened when she was with him.”

You draw back, shaking your head, “That’s not fair. It could’ve happened to anyone. It could’ve been me—”

“Don’t,” he says immediately, stepping closer to you, “Don’t you dare go there. It wouldn’t have. It can’t.”

“Why not, Rafe?” you question, raising a brow, angry that he wants to blame everything on Scott when you don’t feel it’s his fault, “You’d blame Scott for everything if you could. If I had decided to take Josie to dance, it would’ve been me and the kids at that intersection—-”

“No!” he shouts, silencing you once again, “Stop it. It can’t happen again, Y/N. I almost lost you once, it cannot fucking happen again.”

Your lips glue shut as you realize what this is truly about for him. He runs a hand through his hair and sucks in a deep breath, letting the silence fall between the two of you.

You know exactly how Rafe has internalized the accident you were in the night of Midsummers with Topper and Kelce. You know, because he’s told you. How he had nightmares for ages afterward, how he still will grip the steering wheel with two hands when he drives with you in the car at night. How he thinks about it every year at Midsummers, regardless of how much time has passed.

Now, you can’t imagine what this will do to him. His Josie, his baby girl. Getting that call was not easy on him, you’re sure, and for a moment, you understand why he’s so angry with you for putting him in that situation.

“Rafe,” you whisper, watching the way he looks up at you with vulnerability in his eyes, “I’m so, so sorry.”

He nods, like he really just needed to hear that. You take a step closer, but before you can reach for him, he steps back.

“I need to sleep on it all. We can regroup in the morning.”

You swallow and nod, unsure of what to do with your hands. You settle for tucking them behind your back, squirming under his gaze.

“I’ll sleep upstairs. In case Connor needs anything,” you say.

“Alright,” he nods, looking at you like he’s considering something.

“Alright,” you repeat.

He sighs, like he’s annoyed with himself, then steps forward and cups your cheeks. He stares at you for a moment before placing a kiss on your forehead forcefully, then drops you from his grip completely.

You step forward out of habit, wanting his touch back. Instead of reaching for him, you just stare, knowing that he can tell what you want but refuses to give it to you.

“I love you, Rafe,” you whisper to him.

Even as angry as he is, he doesn’t miss a beat, “I love you, too.”

He nods, then turns around and leaves you like that. In the middle of the living room with his kiss still lingering on your forehead, and his words sitting in front of you, etching themselves into your heart so you never forget them.

When you wake in the morning, your first thought is of Connor. You don’t allow yourself to think of anything else, because it weighed on you all night, until you just couldn’t take it anymore. You cried in the guest room bed. Buried your face in a pillow and sobbed as you relived the day, your choices, and what became of them. You cry for Josie, for Rafe, for Scott. You cry because all you’d wanted to do was make the right choice for all of them, and you wound up only making the wrong ones.

So, when you wake up with swollen under eyes and a red nose, the only thing you allow yourself to think about is Connor.

He’s asleep when you enter his room, and when you feel his forehead, he feels the same as he had last night. You make a mental note to bring up more medicine for him, then take his temperature.

Slipping back out of his room, you head downstairs. Your stomach twists as you hear Rafe talking to Josie in the kitchen, and the thought of facing him without knowing exactly how he feels today makes you anxious.

As you walk in, you find Josie sitting on the counter and Rafe at the stove, where he flips a pancake in the pan. Josie giggles at something he said, and Rafe laughs back. His eyes catch on you, and for a brief moment, he smiles. Then, he drops it and looks down.

“Hi, Mommy!” Josie cheers, “Daddy’s staying home today! He said I could, too.”

“He did, huh?” you smile at her, walking around the island to embrace her.

“Thought I could, considering we’re not consulting each other on decisions anymore,” Rafe mutters.

For Josie’s sake, you ignore him, but you stare at him while you do it. In no way can you tell Rafe how to feel or act, but you’re shocked at how openly petty he’s being.

“Rafe—”

He cuts you off when he spins around with a plate in his hand, then gives Josie a wide smile.

“Alright, princess, your breakfast is ready. Go sit at the table for me.”

He carries Josie’s plate over as you help her down from the counter, then watch her take off to her seat. Once she’s settled, Rafe comes back into the kitchen, but he doesn’t spare you a single glance.

“How’d you sleep?” you try, stepping closer.

“I didn’t,” he replies as he pours more pancake batter into the pan, “She did. All night.”

You swallow, “Good. So, listen, I was hoping—”

“I’m taking her to my parents’ today. We’ll swim and visit with Topper and Ellie. I figure Connor needs quiet, anyway.”

“Oh, okay,” you nod weakly, “Do you think we could talk later, though?”

“I don’t know.”

You frown and look at the floor, then glance over at the coffee pot. What’s usually filled halfway for you is now empty, and you know the pancakes he’s making on the stove are for himself. It makes your heart ache, to think that he’s so angry with you that he no longer wants to take care of you.

“Rafe, I just… I want to fix it,” you practically beg, “Please.”

He drops the spatula on the counter before he turns to you, keeping his voice low on account of Josie.

“This isn’t just something you can fix, Y/N. You hurt me. You prioritize your brother over our kids and you always have. Every time he stumbles in drunk, you always tell him it’s okay. It’s not. This time, you let him take our daughter and they got into an accident. She could’ve gotten really hurt. I’m not okay with that, and I never will be. Until you can get your priorities straight, I’m not interested in what you have to say.”

You step back from him and swallow the lump in your throat. Instead of just rolling over, you want to explain your thought process — have an actual conversation instead of bickering over the stove.

“He’s sick, Rafe. He’s an alcoholic. Guilting him every time he comes to us like that isn’t going to help him,” you reply, trying to stay strong despite the tears stinging your eyes, “And, how dare you accuse me of not prioritizing our family. This is my top priority— my only priority. I made a judgment call, and I was wrong, I admit it. If I could go back and change it, I would.”

He shrugs, looking back down at the pancake, “But, you can’t.”

His left hand rests on the counter where he leans, supporting his body. You want to reach out and grab it, pull him into you and keep him close as you tell him that you’re sorry over and over again. You give in before you can help yourself, and when you cover his hand with your own, he doesn’t pull away immediately.

“Rafe, please,” you beg, but you’re not sure for what exactly. His eyes. His love. His forgiveness.

“Don’t,” he says, pulling hand from under yours, “You really hurt me this time.”

Before you can say anything else, he plates his pancakes, then turns to face Josie.

She grins when she sees him holding up his own plate, and he puts on his parent mask as he nears her.

“Can we eat together, baby?” he asks enthusiastically, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was absolutely, positively, fine.

After Josie and Rafe leave, you bring Connor downstairs. You cuddle with him when he asks for it, you make him soup, give him more medicine, and watch Paw Patrol until he falls asleep on your lap.

You, however, don’t nap. You stare at your phone screen, at a drafted text to Rafe as your thumb hovers over the send button.

I hope you know that I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or Josie. I never would. The three of you are my priority. We can talk more when you’re ready, but I just want you to know that I’m thinking about what you said and I want to work this out with you more than anything. Please come home.

You debate taking off the plea for him to come home, but you decide to leave it and press send. When you see that it went through, you put your phone down and take a deep breath, then leave your eyes glued to the screen so you can see the second he responds.

When your phone does light up again, you pounce on it. You frown when you see Maddie’s name at the top of the new text, asking you why Rafe canceled the dinner plans that you two had with Maddie and Kelce tonight — which you’d completely forgotten about.

You reply quickly and tell her that Connor is sick, and debate asking her if she can talk on the phone so you can get advice. However, you decide against it and fire off your excuse just as Rafe’s response comes in.

We will pick up dinner and be there soon. How’s Connor?

You smile, because something about this feels like progress. Silently, you look down to the sleeping boy, running your hand through his hair because you just can’t help yourself.

He’s good. Sleeping off the fever, I hope. Thank you for getting dinner!

He won’t respond to that and you know it, but you don’t care. At least he gave you one response.

Connor wakes just before Josie and Rafe get home, and with a perfect temperature, he says he wants to stay downstairs for dinner. You nod and give him a hug, and when you hear the garage door open, you wave him up and into the kitchen.

“Mommy!” Josie shouts when she enters the house, “Look, Daddy got me a princess sticker!”

She holds it up to you proudly as you hug her tight, “Oh, I love it, Jo.”

She beams and moves over to show it to Connor as Rafe walks in. He holds a pizza in his left hand and Josie’s bag in his right. You don’t miss the name on the pizza box — your favorite place, meaning he had to drive fifteen extra minutes each way to get it instead of getting the easy, shitty pizza down the street.

“You got Lighthouse,” you say, biting your lip to hide a smile as you acknowledge his drive to the pizza place.

“Yeah, I—” he stops himself and closes his eyes, then shakes his head before repeating, “Yeah.”

You take a daring step forward, “Thank you.”

He nods once, and when you see him swallow down his impulse to reach for you, to hug you and kiss you and ask about your day, he looks over to the kids.

“Hey, Connor. How are you feeling, buddy?”

Rafe steps past you to get to him, and the pizza you’d just been swooning over suddenly doesn’t seem as appetizing. Regardless, you get plates out and divide up slices while Rafe works behind you to get everyone drinks. He pours juice out for the kids and tells them to sit at the table, then gets a beer for himself. He doesn’t ask you what you want because he already knows, and he sets the glass of white wine at your place setting.

Dinner is quiet, but you pretend it’s only because Josie is tired from swimming all day and Connor isn’t feeling well. Everything feels off because you and Rafe didn’t work today — you told Rose that Connor was sick — and Josie didn’t go to school. It feels like it should be a weekend, but it’s not.

You want to ask Rafe if he plans on going back to work tomorrow. If he wants to sleep next to you tonight, because you want to sleep next to him. You want to ask him everything, anything, just to get him to look at you.

After dinner, Rafe volunteers himself to do bath and bedtime, which leaves you downstairs to clean up the small mess from the meal. As you clean, you spot a tub of ice cream in the freezer and pull it out, smiling to yourself at your little idea.

When Rafe comes back downstairs, he doesn’t look for you. Instead, he makes his way into your shared bedroom, already peeling off his shirt in preparation for a shower when he freezes. You’re sitting on his side of the bed with two small bowls of ice cream and that pout on your lips that you know he loves. He visibly softens at the sight, and when you hold up the bowl, his jaw ticks.

“You’re something else,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, as he crosses the room shirtless.

You give him a small smile as he plants himself beside you and accepts the bowl. His knee touches yours, and you feel giddy inside when he doesn’t pull himself away.

“I’m trying, Rafe,” you whisper as he takes a bite, staring down at the bowl instead of you, “I’m trying to figure out what to do. Because I miss you. And I know I made a mistake. But I don’t want to cut my brother off in the process of working this out. He’s doing better, and I’m afraid that would trigger him into a relapse, or something.”

“I get that,” he murmurs.

“So, let’s talk about it. All three of us. Let’s set clear boundaries and we can even make a timeline—”

“Y/N,” Rafe practically laughs, “I already did that with you. I told you that I wasn’t ready. I set my boundary, and you crossed it.”

You swallow, “I know, but I think it will help if Scott is clued in, too. That way, wires don’t get crossed, and we can all—”

“We can all what?” he scoffs, standing up, “Live happily ever after? Scott can worm his way back into our kids’ lives? I cave on a lot of shit for you, Y/N, but this is not something you can ask me to do.”

“Rafe, I’m not asking you to change how you feel,” you reply, your voice small and pleading, as if silently begging him to sit back down with you, “Please, I’m not. I’m just trying to make everyone happy.”

He shakes his head and lets his eyes close, rolling them behind his lids, “That’s the problem with you. You’re always so focused on how everyone else feels. You’re so afraid to tell Scott ‘no’ because you’re afraid you’ll be responsible for a relapse if you do. You know what, Y/N? You’re allowed to be selfish. You’re allowed to stand up for yourself and our children. Scott is a grown ass man, and his choices are his own. You baby the fuck out of him, and it needs to stop.”

You digest Rafe’s words, letting them hang in the air between the two of you. On one hand, you want to fight back. You want to tell him that Scott is your family, and you’re just trying to help. On the other hand, you see how trying to help turned into Josie being in an accident. Then, you hear Rafe’s words in your head once more.

I cave on a lot of shit for you.

He does, and you know it. With a deep breath, you nod your head, willing to sacrifice for him the way he always does for you — without a second thought.

“Okay,” you whisper, watching his eyes dart to you, “Alright. I’ll take space. I’ll work on it. Whatever is best for you and the kids, I will do that.”

Rafe stares at you like that’s the last thing he expected you to say. His hands meet his hips and he assesses you from head to toe before swallowing.

“Maybe you should sleep on that decision,” he says carefully.

You shake your head, ignoring the stinging in your eyes. He watches you carefully as you stand up and step over to him, then place a gentle hand on his chest. You can feel his heart racing, and you want to smile at the thought of still being able to do that to him after all this time.

“I don’t need to. You’re right, I let people walk all over me because I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But, our marriage is my priority, and our children are my priority, and I need to do better. I’m sorry, Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

His eyes close when your lips ghost over his cheek. His fists ball at his sides as he fights the urge to pull you in, to forget it all and just let his body take over. You move down and kiss along his jawline, then back up to his mouth. You let your lips hover for a moment, giving him time to object, before you lean closer.

“Y/N,” he whispers at the very last second, “You can’t just tell me what I want to hear because we’re in a fight. You need to figure this shit out for yourself.”

“Rafe,” you sigh, but he shakes his head.

“I need some time, too. This really rattled me, and I need to figure out how I want to proceed.”

You furrow your brows, “How you want to proceed? Like, with us?”

You fear the answer more than anything, but you need to hear it.

“With everything,” he replies, “I just… I need sleep. So do you.”

You nod but don’t say a word, standing there and thinking about the melting ice cream that sits on your bed.

Rafe takes a deep breath and watches as you avoid his eyes, then sighs and steps forward. You think he might reach out to touch you, grab you, kiss you, anything. Instead, he picks up his pillow from his side of the bed and steps back, offering you half a smile.

“I’ll be on the couch,” he mumbles, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you reply.

He picks up the two ice cream bowls and carries them to the door, turning back and staring at the scene in front of him for a moment. You, still standing on his side of the bed, where you know you’ll sleep tonight.

“Love you,” he whispers.

“Love you, too.”

He nods and then closes the door behind him. Only then do you fall into his side of the bed and inhale his scent on the sheets, allowing your tears to fall right where you lay. You don’t grab a pillow, you don’t cover yourself with a blanket. You just cry until your body grows so tired that it forces you to sleep, with swollen eyes and a regretful heart.

You jolt awake to the sound of the doorknob to your bedroom rattling up and down a few times, which immediately has you sitting up in bed. Your first thought is that it’s Connor trying to get in because he’s sick, and your heart sinks at the thought of him having gotten worse.

Which is why, when Rafe comes rushing into the room, your eyes grow wide. He’s shirtless and his hair is a mess, but more than that, he looks completely terrified. Your heart races as he starts over to you at a fast pace, lips parted like he’s trying to speak, but can’t.

“Rafe, what is it?” you ask softly.

His breaths are shallow and jagged, and when he tries to inhale, it seems like he can’t. You scoot closer to the edge of the bed, and when he rounds the mattress and gets to you, he sinks to his knees in front of you.

“You’re okay,” he whispers in relief, beginning to check you from top to bottom with his eyes and hands, “Fuck, thank God.”

His palms grip your forearms and he flips them over to check for any sort of marking or injury, then moves down your body to your legs. He runs his hands over every square inch of your skin, and you let him.

“Of course I’m okay,” you reply, grabbing one of his hands in yours, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He lets out a long breath, then shakes his head, but his hands never leave you. He grips you tight, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go for even a moment.

“Nothing, nothing,” he rushes, “Just a bad dream, I guess. Felt real.”

You tense, “Are you having nightmares again?”

He shrugs, but when you cup his cheek with your free hand, he nods.

“Yeah,” he admits shyly, “I, um, I know we’re in a weird place right now, but—”

“Come to bed,” you demand, tugging him in.

He nods, as if that’s exactly what he wanted you to say. You scoot over just enough for him to crawl onto the mattress, then bury yourself in him the moment he’s laying flat. His arms wrap around you and your head presses against his heart; this time racing for a different reason.

Just as you settle and the room falls silent, you debate what to say. If you should ask any questions or just let him be. Rafe speaks, silencing your mind.

“Y/N,” he whispers into the darkness, “I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me,” you encourage, squeezing him slightly.

He takes a long moment to start, but when he does, you can tell by the shakiness in his voice that he’s emotional.

“I think part of the reason I got so upset with you was because I was very aware of the fact that it could’ve been the three of you at that intersection. Even though you let Scott take her against my wishes, you still made the right choice, somehow. Because, I swear, if I had gotten a call that all of you were at the hospital, I think I would’ve had a heart attack right then and there in my office.”

“Rafe,” you whine, cuddling closer.

He shakes his head, “Let me finish, okay, baby?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“I’m terrified that something will happen one day. That I won’t be there to protect you, or stop it, or fix it, and this whole thing really brought that fear out of me. I know that I seem overprotective with the kids, especially with Scott, but I just can’t stand the thought of something happening to them. To you. You’re my entire world, Y/N. I just need you to understand that.”

“I do understand that,” you answer, heart hammering in your chest, “But, we also can’t live our lives in fear of what could happen. All we can do is take precautions and make informed decisions together. I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Rafe. I would never, ever do that on purpose. I love you too much to even consider it.”

He swallows roughly, “I know, sweetheart.”

You want to say more, to spill your guts and tell him every thought you’ve had for the past twenty four hours. Instead, you cuddle deeper into him and inhale his scent, then kiss his cheek.

“You should sleep, handsome,” you whisper against his skin, “I’m right here, and I’m okay. We’ll work it out in the morning.”

He nods, then presses a kiss into your hair, “I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too,” you reply, “That means you’re stuck with me.”

He chuckles lightly, “Good.”

You smile against him, then kiss his cheek once more before you resign to laying your head on his chest. Both of you are asleep in seconds, surrounded in the warmth and love of the other.

When you wake up in the morning, your hands are both tangled in Rafe’s. You feel his smooth palms in yours and you smile before you even open your eyes to find him. When you do, he’s laying across from you, already wide awake. When his eyes meet yours, his lips tip up in a smile.

"What are you staring at?” you ask teasingly, shifting closer.

“My wife,” he replies in that morning voice that always seems to get you, “My beautiful, infuriating wife.”

You laugh, even though it shouldn’t be funny. He smiles a real smile then, and you bask in it. Having not seen it in what feels like forever, you want to keep it there for the rest of your life.

“Rafe,” you whisper. “I—”

“I know,” he stops you, tugging you closer, “I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Really?” you ask hopefully.

“Mhm,” he hums, “Can you just promise that you’ll call me the next time you don’t know what to do? No matter what?”

You nod, “I promise.”

“Thank you,” he says, then takes a breath before saying, “Now, about your brother.”

“I still want him in my life, Rafe. But, I’ll meet up with him and really discuss boundaries and everything. I’ll take the house key from him. I will do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable, but I won’t cut him out.”

He nods, “I’m not asking you to cut him out, baby. Not at all. You just need to be more firm with him. You know Scott, you give him an inch, he takes a mile.”

“I know,” you reply, dropping your shoulders at the evident quality your brother possesses, “I’ll work on being more assertive with my boundaries when it comes to him.”

“Good. You deserve to be appreciated and respected. You’re not a doormat for your brother and his issues.”

You know Rafe’s right, but you’re not ready to admit that that might just be what Scott has been doing to you. That he knows you’ll go easy on him, so he comes to you first. You haven’t wanted to see it, so you don’t.

“So, we’re okay?” you ask, biting your lip.

He stares at you for a moment, and you notice how his look of admiration has returned. You smile as he begins to nod, then squeeze his hand.

“We’re okay,” he replies, “Sorry if I scared you last night.”

“You did. Do you think our fight brought it on?”

He shrugs, “The fight. Josie being in the accident. I’m sure it will go away in the next few nights, as I calm down.”

You nod in understanding, then place a few gentle pecks onto his bare chest.

“If there’s anything I can do, tell me,” you murmur, “You’re never alone.”

“Thank you, baby.”

As much as you want to stay and bask in his body heat, you know you should get up to check on Connor and take him more medicine. Rafe can feel you tense as you prepare to move, and his grip tightens.

“Rafe—”

“He’s fine,” Rafe bluffs, “Don’t get up.”

“I have to.”

He laughs gruffly, then releases you. Reluctantly, you climb from the bed in your tank top and short shorts, eliciting a groan from Rafe where he lays. Without being able to contain himself, it seems, he reaches over and swats your backside as you escape from the bed, earning a jaw drop from you.

“Sorry,” he grins mischievously.

“Sure you are,” you mutter, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I really am, sweetheart. I remind myself every day.”

You know he’s being his silly self, but the words bring butterflies to your stomach. You grin and turn back to look at him as you walk toward your bedroom door, taking a mental picture of him laying in bed with his shirt off and his hair messy. He’s practically begging you to come back to him, and for a moment, you strongly consider it.

“Don’t move,” you command, “I’ll be back in ten.”

He chuckles, “Yes ma’am.”

You hurry from the room and up the stairs, already missing Rafe’s heat and the comfort of your bed with him in it. You’re already making plans for when you return to your bedroom, because although fighting with Rafe is one of the worst things in your entire world, making up is your absolute favorite.

*i no longer have a tag list! follow @mackupdates for updates! thank you for reading <3

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changbinsboiledegg · 11 months

Note

Since we’re all taking a break from being slutty and DEVOURING the comfort fics. Can I request a fic where hyunjin had a really bad day and then reader says something that’s obviously meant to be a joke, or idk buys him the wrong order of food etc but he gets really upset and takes it to heart and starts crying and reader realizes something is definitely wrong because he’s never that sensitive and she gets him to open up to her about how stressed he’s been etc and she just helps him get through the day and feel better.

Also can I be 🩰 anon?

Heyo 🩰 anon! (Yes, you can be 🩰 anon, ily.) I love how y’all’s go to for comfort fics is Hyunjin lmaooo I love it though, he’s such a sweetie so I understand 🥹 I also love how you started this ask LMAOOOOO.

GN! Reader X SKZ Hyunjin

Warnings: Hyunjin has a bad day, he's going THROUGH IT.

Note: I made this gender neutral since I didn’t really use pronouns except for he/him with Hyunjin. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always, if no one’s told you today, ilyy! 🫶

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Nothing seemed to go right today.

He woke up late, forgot his phone, so when he went back to get it, he was even more late showing up to practice.

Then at practice, he kept messing up his moves somehow and he knew the other members were getting irritated.

Hyunjin came over to your apartment later that day, wanting to put all of the days stress behind him and be near you, knowing you had always been his peace in times of stress.

Hyunjin immediately called you on his way out after everyone collectively called it a day and decided to pick back up the next day.

“Hey, done already?” You picked up. He could hear the sound of wind coming from your end as you were seemingly outside.

“We… finished early.” Hyunjin didn't want to talk about how his day went. He just wanted to leave and head directly for you. “Can I ask a favor?”

He felt his stomach rumble and realized how hungry he was. Another thing to look forward to, other than seeing you.

Food.

“What is it?” You asked, curious. Hyunjin used his free hand to grip his stomach as he made his way for the front door, leading outside.

The wind on your end had ceased, indicating you were inside.

“Can you order takeout? I'm heading to your apartment, so I will pay you back in cash when I get there.” Hyunjin didn't want to explain that his credit card was paused for some reason.

That was another problem for later. A problem he didn't want to think about at the moment.

“Of course. Don't worry about paying me back.” You didn't hesitate, “I missed you.”

Hyunjin smiled, already feeling his stress diminishing. “I missed you too.”

“Want your regular?” You asked, already having the delivery app open.

“Please. And get yourself something too. It's just me and you tonight.” Hyunjin took a deep breath and started to walk in the direction of your apartment— a path he was familiar with.

“Alright, my angel. I will see you when you get here.” You said, hanging up after he bid you a farewell.

You ordered the food, double checked everything and waited. Luckily, the food arrived before Hyunjin did, so the food would already be ready for him.

When Hyunjin actually arrived, he was relieved to smell the food, his stomach growling hungrily.

“Ah, thank you so much!” Hyunjin shut and locked your front door and sat with you as you separated and passed out the food.

Hyunjin’s heart dropped, seeing the food was definitely not his regular. You hadn't noticed because yours was correct, all the way down to the extras you had added on.

You glanced at Hyunjin, seeing he had gotten the wrong order. You scoffed, shaking your head. “damnit… who did you piss off at the takeout spot today?”

Hyunjin paused, a look of hurt flashed across his face and he looked at you.

“No one! I didn't ‘piss’ anyone off! I didn't do anything!” Hyunjin snapped, his eyes welling up before the tears came rushing down his cheeks.

“Why does everyone think I did something wrong?!” Hyunjin cried, his hands flying to cover his face as he cried harder than you’ve ever seen him cry before.

Your expression had a look of concern to it, pushing your food aside and moving to wrap your arms around him in a comforting gesture.

“Hey, hey, I was only joking… what happened? Why are you crying?” You asked, rubbing his back and immediately feeling guilty.

Hyunjin didn't speak for a while, just crying his eyes out in your arms.

When he eventually pulled away from you, he wiped his eyes and face with his sleeves as his own guilt sank in for snapping at you for your joke and the wrong order.

“It's been a bad day.” Hyunjin started off. You weren't sure if he was going to elaborate more on that or not, but you didn't rush him and instead, you were very patient as he collected his thoughts.

“It started when I woke up late. Then during practice, I kept messing up. I think the guys are mad at me.” Hyunjin sniffled, staring at the wrong order of food. You listened intently, letting him open up to you all while gently rubbing his back.

“I'm sorry I snapped at you.” Hyunjin continued, “it’s just that I was relying on something to make today better and being with you did, but I was also very hungry and seeing it was wrong, well…”

You nodded understandingly. “Added to your series of misfortunes.”

Hyunjin laughed a little, relieving you as you worried that joke would make him cry again.

“Yeah. And when you said I pissed someone off, maybe I did get a little too defensive.” Hyunjin closed his tired eyes from crying. You frowned, hearing how your joke hurt him.

“I'm so sorry, I was only joking. I know you didn't piss anyone off or do anything to deserve the day you just had.” You spoke in a soothing voice, pulling him into your arms again.

Hyunjin leaned into your arms, the stress diminishing again. He felt silly for getting so upset over a wrong order and a joke.

“You’re allowed to be frustrated, my love.” You whispered, kissing the top of his head that was leaned against your shoulder.

And Hyunjin smiled, needing to hear those words.

“Tomorrow will be better.” You added, reaching for your phone. “But so will tonight. I'm getting you your correct order.”

#skz hyunjin x reader #stray kids hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #skz scenarios #skz reactions #stray kids imagine #skz comfort

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theylooklikehumanbeings · 2 months

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"All you have to worry about is some stupid tape" Tommy Lee x reader x slight! Pamela Anderson (Part 2)

MDNI! warnings for: angst, heartbreak, past abusive boyfriends, Tommy is mean still lol, mentions of forced and regular miscarriages, mentions of Self harm!! please stay safe guys.

Summary: Y/N is filling in as a backup singer for Motley Crue on their upcoming album. Tommy Lee has been pissed lately because their new album isnt going well and on top of that his sex tape with Pamela Anderson has been leaked. Y/N meanwhile is living with an abusive boyfriend so getting this gig with Motley Crue would be able to help them out of their home. However, what happens when homelife is meeting studio life..?

Part one

"Is Tommy here?"

You hadn't even noticed you had been staring at her for so long. It was like she was Americas dream model. Long blonde flowing hair, a nice body, perfect face... You were so lost in your thoughts you hadn't known she was waving a hand in front of your face. "Hello?" You blinked a few times. "uh, yeah... sorry..." you cleared your throat "yeah, hes in the studio..". She let out a relieved sigh "oh thank god, he practically ran out of the house this morning in a bad mood... I'm sorry.. what was your name? I don't think we've met before..." She smiled at you. Smiled. A god send of a smile. One your mother would probably give to you if you handed her a bad drawing and she wanted to make you feel like you were the best artist in the world. God... you didn't deserve someone to smile at you like that... "I'm Y/N.. I'm filling in as a backup singer" you explained to her and held out your hand. She immediately took it and you could feel her long acrylic nails touching your skin as she shook your hand.

"youre a singer? I've always dreamed of being one... I'm Pamela.." She said still smiling at you and introducing herself. 'Well... theres a reason I'm the backup..' you thought to yourself. "yeah I guess so..." you let go of her hand wishing for a slight second you could hold it longer. "I just got lucky I guess..." you said your voice sounding unsure of yourself. Pamelas face seemed to scrunch like she noticed but she didn't say anything. "Well... I better go find Tommy I need to talk to him... it was so nice to meet you though..." she said again smiling at you the sweetest smile. You reluctantly smiled back at her. "It was nice to meet you to..." you said waving as she walked inside. You couldn't help but stare as she walked away. You didn't even know what to think... She was so kind, sweet, pretty... everything you wished you could be...

After awhile of thinking and drowning in your own problems you walked back inside of the studio. You walked to the door but stopped. You noticed in the corner of the studio Tommy and Pamela talking in hushed voices. One part of you told yourself you shouldn't get into their business... The other half was too curious... Carefully, you snuck over and leaned against the wall. Far enough you could hear but far enough back they wouldn't see you. You listened in carefully to what they were talking about.

"Tommy. I can't keep doing this with you... you can't get so pissed youre running off and not telling me where you are going... I'm upset about the tape just as much as you are..."

"Not everything is about that fucking tape, okay? I've got more issues than the tape"

"I know baby but-"

"Listen baby... I need you to stop stressing so much.... this isn't good for you... our baby-"

You decided not to listen after that. It brought back memories... terrible, terrible memories.. You walked into the studio lookign at both Mick and Nikki "I have to go I'm sorry..." Nikki looked at you "hold on, if we just wait for vince a little longer-" You held your hand up "I'm sorry Nikki I need to go... I'll be back on Tuesday..." you said before turning. You felt tears burning in the corners of your eyes as you quickly grabbed your bag. As you walked out you turned to see Pamela and Tommy hugging and caressing each other. Tears ran down your cheeks as you made your way out of there. Life is unfair...

1992

You stared down at the pregancy test with shaking hands... No, No this cannot be happening. You couldn't be pregant.. you were not ready... and most definitely not with him... You held your head as you began to cry. How could this have happened...? How were you supposed to tell him..? Was the baby supposed to grow up in this awful apartment with a horrible father like him...? You stared down at the tiled floor in comtemplation. You couldn't give birth... not now... not ever... You got up shaking still. You walked over to the counter and stared at the whiskey bottle before you....

You stared at the road ahead of you. Dried tears were on your cheeks. Thoughts spiraled throguh your mind. You shouldn't even feel jealous... You shouldn't feel jealous of Pam and Tommy... yet you were. You were jealous they had each other. You were jealous they seemed to have the perfect life. The only thing they were worried about was a stupid fucking tape... You wiped the tears from your eyes as you made it home. Luckily, your boyfriend wasn't home from his job. You made your way inside and closed the door behind you.

You went into the bedroom you unfortanely had to share and got dressed into pajamas. Afterward, you made your way over the couch and laid across it turning it on. Luckily, MTV was on showing off the latest Nu Metal bands that were rising to fame. You were realizing why Tommy was upset. All the bands that started in the 80s were becoming irrelevant to the public. No longer were segments about Motley Crue, Guns n roses, Bon Jovi, etc. They want to report the newest thing. You frowned a bit feeling rather bad.

About an hour or two had passed as you sat there and watched the tv before you heard the landline ring. You looked up intrested. Usually, it was someone calling for your boyfriend. You went over and picked up the phone "Hello, Y/N speaking... If your looking for..." A voice cut you off "Hey, Y/N" You were shocked to hear who was on the other side "Tommy?" you asked recognizing his voice almost instantly. You heard a chuckle over the phone.

"Yeah its me... I just wanted to say I'm sorry... I'm sorry for how I was acting at the studio today... I can tell I upset you..." You stared down at the ground below you. You were both a little shocked Tommy out of all people would call you but more so that he was apologizing. "Oh uh... its alright really... It wasn't really you I'm just... going through some things..." you said trying to play it off and hoping he wasn't going to ask anymore questions on the matter. "Well, I still want to apologize, and to ask if you wanted to come with Pam and I to dinner..." You blinked for a second. Was Tommy Lee asking you to dinner? You were speechless for a moment. "Uh, well um... sure! where?" you asked curiously. "Theres a really nice place downtown I'll give you the address... Pamela would love to see you again..." Those words stuck in your brain. Pamela wanted to see you?

As he told you the address you wrote it down on a sticky note and stuck it in your pocket "okay... okay great, I'll be there!" You said as a genuine smile was on your face. It had been awhile since one of those appeared. Tommy chuckled over the phone "Great we will see you tomorrow" With that the phone hung up. You stared at the ground for awhile. You were in awe. Pamela and Tommy just invited you to dinner. You felt like you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Now another problem was approaching. What were you going to wear? sure, you had some mediocre dresses in your closet. But, you were sure they were going to take you somewhere so fancy you could only dream of it being real. You walked into the bedroom and looked in the closet for awhile. After awhile of searching, in the back was a beautiful black dress with a long black lace train. It was your prom dress from a few years back. It would still fit right? To your surprise it did. You stared at yourself in the mirror admiring the dress for awhile. It was so pretty. You remember saving up all your money from whatever job you were working at in high school to buy it. You smiled again seeing yourself however your gaze went down to your arms..

(Masc version skip if you don't wanna read:) You walked to the closet and looked around. You hadn't worn anything very nice in awhile. Knowing, Pam and Tommy however you knew they were probably going to take you to the fanciest resturant you could only dream of going to. After searching for awhile, you reached in the back and found a old suit. It was your suit for prom. You had completely forgot it was in there. It would still fit right? To your surprise, it did. You looked at yourself in the mirror testing out the shirt and the tux. It looked really nice on you. You smiled again seeing yourself in the mirror however, your eyes glanced down and noticed the sleeves of the tux rising up. It exposed your wrist...

Across your arms were gashes and cuts. Some healed, some still fresh. You swallowed and covered on of your wrists. Hopefully tomorrow Pam and Tommy won't notice.

A/N: thank you so much for the support on the first part! I'm sorry this is a bit delayed I was in the hospital with kidney stones. I'm so excited to continue writing for this series though!! with love, mwah mwah mwah

#pamela anderson #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee #pamela anderson x reader #vince neil #nikki sixx #mick mars #sebastain stan #lily james #x reader #80s bands

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the-lightning-strikes-again · 2 months

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I'm so sorry to hear you were in an accident im glad you are alive and feeling okay again <3<3

I'd love to send you a lotura prompt, hopefully it lifts your spirits to be back on that sweet ship.

How about Lotor and Allura talking about weapons? (i.e. Like how Allura prefers a staff and Lotors sword designs (like the one he was first shown with) )

Hey, good to hear from you and thanks for your super kind note!! I'm doing a little better each day and am excited to get back to regular routines! While I was on hold over the phone about paperwork today, I managed to exercise my brain with the prompt you gave me! <3

Staff vs. Sword

Emperor Lotor leans against a wall, crossing his arms and quirking a slim, white eyebrow at the princess before him. “Surely, you jest with me,” he murmurs. “A staff again?”

Princess Allura beams, and she grabs her favorite staff from the blunted practice weapons with a solid grip, fingers tight. With a quick flick of her wrist, she spins it and sets the end solidly on the ground. “My bayard for Blue Lion also turns into a whip,” she says nonchalantly, “but that seems entirely unfair to use against you, as it produces an electric shock.”

“Ah, yes.” His eyes crinkle, his slit pupils dilating with softness. He adds dryly, “Because we do not already create enough sparks on the courts.”

She brushes back her long, thick braid and waggles her eyebrows. “You said it, not me.” And then she pokes his chest plate with the end of her staff. “Do tell me you’re not afraid of a second round after I defeated you.”

“And nearly caused an intergalactic incident,” he says, voice halted. “The training grounds are intended for practicing the art of combat—not the art of catching one’s opponent off-guard with a kiss.”

With a giggle, Allura pulls the staff back, her Altean markings glowing a bright pink. “Yes, well, we Alteans have a saying that all’s fair in love and war. Now, pick your weapon, dear emperor, so that I may defeat you once more. And do choose something other than a sword this time—at least mix it up for me?”

Lotor eyes her before grabbing a blunted sword from the wall, inspecting its balance. His long fingers grip the hilt tightly. “A sword is the best extension of a warrior’s will,” he declares, raising his chin with a petulant chin. “It is simple. It is efficient. It is my favorite weapon.”

Allura sighs dramatically at him. “It does not have quite the—” she waves her hand—“the impact of a staff, though.”

He raises the silver sword to her. “The staff is an impact weapon,” he says dryly. “You simply seek to showcase your Altean strength to the Galra who prowl these courts, and that is why you prefer it as of late."

“Tish tosh,” she says, planting her feet properly on the training mat and eyeing him with an increased wariness. She knows Lotor likes to strike unexpectedly. “I also happen to like the way training robots crumple to bits beneath a staff. It relieves the stress I feel after a large conference with intergalactic leaders.”

A tick of silence stretches between them.

And then in a blur, Lotor races toward her, slashing down.

She blocks with the staff and swings, and he ducks smoothly before stepping back, flipping the sword in his hand.

He paces the mat, the overhead lights capturing the glow of his eyes like a predator in the dark wilderness. “Poor Princess Allura,” he teases. “All the power in the universe, and yet you fear the peace we have wrought together, instead longing for means of violence. Are you certain you are not of Galran blood somewhere in that long ancestry of yours?”

Alura’s voice strains as she circles him as well, resetting her staff. “I can’t think of a single species that doesn’t enjoy a rough tumble now and again, in a safe, non-war environment. Why, the humans even have something called, um—” Her concentration breaks as she pauses, snapping her fingers. “Um, wrestling. And something called rugby. And then they have a very large, worldwide competition for their various violent sports, called the Olympics.”

Lotor pauses.

His slit pupils widen in curiosity of other cultures. “Olympics? Is that similar to a Kral Zera?”

“Somewhat,” she nods, “but instead of choosing a world leader by, um, killing everyone, these tournaments are for medals that they wear around their necks and then bite in front of cameras. And no one dies generally.”

He lunges again, and in a blur, wrenches the staff away from her hands and presses her up against a wall.

Allura squeaks, eyes wide.

His nose is inches from her own, his breath a hot puff against her face. “How very curious.”

Her breath stalls as her cheeks heat hard enough to radiate to him. “Um, y-yes.”

Lotor’s wide mouth splits as he whispers against her mouth, “Fortunately for you, princess, I’ve no intent to fight you truly, or you would already be dead with your silly staff. And if it were these Olympics, you would have no medal to bite.”

Face flushed, her eyes narrow to slits, and before Lotor can avoid it, she hooks her ankle against his and unbalances him. Surprised claws protract from his hands, gripping into her practice armor and his eyes widen.

And the two royals fall in a pile of limbs upon the mat, with Allura sprawled on top of a stunned Lotor, his sword clattering to the mat beside them.

“Oh, no,” she says with a triumphant giggle, hands planted over his chest plate. Her curly flyaways are an angelic halo around her face. “You lowered your weapon but did not fully secure me, so I still win.”

Lotor grumps beneath her, his lavender cheeks flushing as he grips her forearms.

And despite Galra leadership watching the courts and murmuring with gossip in the far distance, Lotor softens. His rough, calloused thumbs stroke a pink marking along her bare forearm. “Best two out of three, then? I promise to secure you fully next time and cause another scandal for it.”

Allura leans forward, eyes sparkling. “Very well, Emperor Lotor. You’re on.”

#Voltron #Lotura #Lotor #Allura #writing in present tense bc it's all my brain wants to do rn idk why ahhh #thank you for the note and the prompt!#This was a fun exercise for the day!#yeeee it does lift the spirits to get back to fun hobbies!#I was off work for a long time too so I'm trying to slowly ramp back up on that side of things too #would rather write lotura fic tho lol #thank you again! <3 #super curious if anyone notices any other changes in my writing style since the accident #I'm still having trouble remembering words sometimes #lotura really challenges me tho bc they talk so posh all the time XD #my doctor said try to challenge myself so here we go lol!

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oldiesstationlover11607 · 2 days

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hellooo again!! i loved what you did with the dun!reader x tyler fic, it was exactly what i had imagined thank you!!:3 i’ll definitely be a regular here, you’re writing is TEWWW good not to be one 😁 id also love to be 🦝 anon if that works??

anyways id love to see an angsty fic, where reader & tyler are at an party or some sort of event and reader is spending a lot of time talking to her old childhood friend. and while tyler knows the reader would never hurt him, and that there was nothing going between reader and this guy. blurryface gets the best of him. so when they leave the party early because tyler has a “headache” and when the car ride home is nothing but silent, reader speaks up about it. and blurryface tries to argue with reader, paint her out to be this villain. but reader knows how to help tyler, she knows exactly how to save him from himself. i even if blurryface’s words hurt at first.

i hope i explained that correctly ☝️ but yeah just a angsty argument moment & once reader realizes she just has to save tyler from blurryface, she just reassures him until he’s safe.

again thank you so much for writing my request!!:) i have sooo many random ideas that id love to share with you, i truly enjoy your work soo much <3

- 🦝

Jealous - Tyler Joseph x Reader

Relationship: Tyler Joseph × Reader

Warnings: Blurryface, strong language (I did use swears lol), and Tyler being jealous - angst

Word Count: 2734

A/N: Hello 🦝! I'm glad you enjoyed the Dun!reader fic and thanks for coming back and requesting :) This was super fun to write bc I have an event with my guy best friend this weekend and lots of people that are going to be there haven't met him so I was able to take inspiration – hopefully it doesn't end up like this! Hope you enjoy!

We’d been planning this festival for months, 17 youth bands from Columbus, Ohio were set to play in a medium sized local venue over Saturday and I couldn’t have been more excited. Tyler had promised to come as a guest and watch the bands. I’d asked him to have a chat with a few of the kids who I knew were fans and genuinely interested in taking their music further and into a professional sphere.

“How’s this?” Tyler stepped out of our closet wearing a black hoodie, black jeans, and a baseball cap, doing a little spin.

“Perfect,” I smiled, finishing my makeup in the mirror with my favorite music blasting from the speaker Tyler had installed in the ensuite bathroom for us. He fell back onto our bed, spreading out into a starfish position and staring up at the ceiling. “You look tired,” I laughed, looking at him through the mirror.

“I am,” he responded, pulling down one of his pillows from the top of the bed. I grabbed my bag and slipped in my phone, keys, lip balm, and a comb.

“Well you’re gonna need to wake up if you’re going to be speaking to these kids,” I said. Tyler sat up, letting out a loud groan that echoed through the bedroom. He opened his arms out to me, welcoming my presence between his knees. Resting his head against my chest, he pulled me in close enough that he was practically breathing me in. “I’m excited,” I smiled, knowing my hard work was finally paying off and that all of the kids I’d gotten to know over the last few months were getting the opportunity to showcase their art in front of people who truly understood them.

“I’m excited for you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled through my shirt. His body heat felt comforting and the last thing I wanted was to step away. It was going to be a stressful day and any minute away from him would just make me more stressed, he was my own personal stress reliever. “We should get going,” I pulled away from his embrace and helped him onto his feet. Normally Tyler drove us places because I took control of the aux to play our shared playlist. We got into the car and almost immediately music started to flow around the car, the two of us singing as loud as we could and shimmying back and forth with the bass. The venue was about half an hour from our house and I’d gotten a couple text messages from the crew to let me know they were loading things in including camera equipment and the shared drum kit each band was going to use. We turned the corner and drove in through the back entrance, parking just to the side of the loading bay. Everywhere I looked there were people running back and forth carrying equipment and talking to the bands. It felt like just yesterday that Tyler and I were setting up for twenty one pilots’ shows together while Mark filmed everything. I missed it, I missed having a camera shoved in my face by one of my best friends–it was fun. Tyler jumped out of the car and ran over to my side, offering a hand for me and not letting go once I was down. We walked into the venue, music playing over the radio to keep everyone entertained during the long waiting hours. That was when I saw him–Luke. I stopped right there in the middle of the walkway, my breath caught in my throat.

“Y/N?” he paused, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since high school. My heart was beating in my ribcage, the feeling vibrating throughout my body and straight into my hand, which Tyler gripped tightly. His brows furrowed as he looked at me with concern.

“Luke?” Tyler tilted his head slightly. I let go of his hand and ran straight into Luke’s arms. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?” I gasped.

“I thought I’d fly in and surprise you! I’ve been helping a bit behind the scenes with promotional stuff,” he looked down at me with a grin.

“How long has it been?” Tears of joy started to well in my eyes. Luke was my best friend in elementary school, middle school, and even high school–our friendship lasting longer than 10 years.

“Eight years Tink,” he said, ruffling my hair. ‘Tinkerbell,’ the nickname I’d adopted in middle school. I remember it like it was yesterday, the summer when our families went to Disney World together. Luke and I grew up on Disney movies and when we finally saved enough money to go to the parks we were so excited. Like the amazing friend I was, I forced Luke to stand in an hour-long line with me to meet Tinkerbell only to get heat stroke and have to step out of line. I cried and cried about how bad I felt about wasting his time but the whole time he sat by my side waiting for me to feel better before dragging me off to Walt Disney’s Haunted Mansion and forever cementing my name as ‘Tinkerbell’.

“Sorry, Tink?” Tyler interrupted. I stepped back from Luke who chuckled.

“Short for Tinkerbell. It’s a long story. You must be Tyler, I’ve heard so much about you,” Luke beamed, reaching a hand out to Tyler who shook it firmly.

“Interesting, because I haven’t heard anything about you,” he mimicked sarcastically. Luke’s face dropped looking at me with confusion. He’d never come up in conversation, Luke moved out of state after high school, going to New York for business school.

“We were friends at school,” Luke explained before looking back at me. “The kids are already here if you want to come say hi, they’re all super excited to meet Tyler.” I nodded, following him as he walked ahead. Tyler reached down and grabbed my hand strongly. Something was off, he was standing taller and felt more serious than he normally was.

“Are you okay?” I whispered into his ear–he had to lean down to properly hear me.

“Yep. Fine. Absolutely fine.”

“Tyler if you feel sick or something you can go home, I can stay here with Luke,” I began, rubbing the pad of my thumb against the back of his hand.

“I said I’m fine,” he insisted. As we entered the backstage area where all the kids were he turned on a smile and went to greet everyone. The room instantly filled with cheers and squeals as he was quickly swarmed and disappeared from sight, leaving Luke and I alone.

“Do you need any help with setting stuff up?” I asked, turning away from Tyler and trying to make myself useful.

“Actually yeah, you could help me put together the gift baskets for the bands,” he nodded, leading me further down the hall into a dressing room full of brightly coloured baskets, bags of candy, drum sticks, guitar picks, and more gifty things. I jumped over the covered floor to a small square of carpet which was clear enough for me to stand. “So, what’s up with this Tyler guy? You told me he was chill but he was anything but that,” Luke spoke, kneeling down and grabbing a basket. He was right, Tyler was generally relaxed with the exception of a few work things with the band when he really locked in.

“I don’t know Lou,” I ran a hand through my hair, “he normally is.”

He shrugged and let out a sigh. “Maybe he’s jealous of my amazingness,” he bragged, fitting a pack of guitar strings next to the box of chocolates in his basket.

“As if,” I scoffed, throwing the ring of ribbon to him. “I’m dating the frontman of one of the biggest bands on the planet and you’re… you,” I laughed as Luke placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. As Luke and I continued to fit each gift into the baskets we began to talk about the past. We reminisced on the make believe games we used to play, the popular girls in middle school who thought they were ‘all that’–who apparently these days were working at gas stations and malls–and that one time our math teacher talked about his couples therapy in class. I could barely breathe as Luke mimicked the teacher’s voice, clenching my stomach and gasping for air.

“Oh my god, remember when he got on his knees in front of Kate and started praying for her to pass the exam?” I laughed as Luke gasped, continuing his perspective of the story. I could hear the thumping and humming of the bands playing as they started to roll out on stage–I couldn’t have been more proud.

“What about Dylan, do you remember him?” Luke asked. We’d moved closer together as the empty baskets became perfectly full and were placed on the table I’d decided needed to be covered in pink paper.

“Shit that breakup was the worst. I was the a fucking mess,” I scoffed. Dylan was my high school boyfriend and for most of our relationship I was deeply in love with him–except for the day I caught him making out with Kathy from biology. It took me months to get over it, months of watching Disney movies and scoffing ice cream on Luke’s couch. It was so bad that our parents actually let us stay at each other’s houses.

“I know, I was there,” Luke laughed, cutting the end of the ribbon he was tying. “I’m glad you’ve found your person though, he’s lucky to have you Tink.” Finishing another basket, I placed it on the table, finally able to move around the room as we’d finished about half of the job already. Just as I was about to go back to my spot I saw Tyler standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” I smiled, opening my arms to him as he weaved his way around the baskets towards me. “How were the kids?” I looked up at him noticing he was picking at his hands–an anxious habit he’d formed.

“Good,” he responded.

“Are you okay man?” Luke asked, looking up from the bow he was tying. Tyler’s fists clenched.

“I’ve got a headache, you know?” he gestured to his head. “I think we should head home Y/N.” I didn’t want to go home, I wanted to watch my hard work pay off and hear the music.

“Oh I can give her a ride home after is she wan–”

“No. I–I–no,” Tyler interrupted. I stood up and interlocked my arm with his but he shrugged me off. I mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ at Luke who flashed me a sympathetic look. I hated having to leave him, I’d missed his company more than I thought I had–all of the memories flooding back in a manner of hours.

“Okay,” I nodded, placing the basket I had just finished on the table and smiling sheepishly at Luke. Tyler walked stiffly to the door and out to the car without a word.

“See ya Tink,” Luke waved, “I’ll text you.”

I ran out after Tyler towards the car seeing him already sitting in the driver’s seat with the engine running. His posture was perfectly straight and expression blank. I climbed into my seat and turned to him, placing a hand on his thigh.

“Are you okay to drive?” I asked, genuinely concerned about what was happening to him. Either he was telling the truth and had a headache or something much worse was about to happen.

“It’s fine,” he snapped, driving out of the lot. I reached for the aux cable to plug my phone in, hoping some music would help him feel better–it usually did. “Don’t. Please,” he spoke, his hands gripping hard onto the wheel. I nodded and sat in silence the rest of the way home, staring out the window. As each building passed us I felt worse and worse, an ever expanding pit of anxiety forming in my throat. Tyler didn’t say a word but as we got closer and closer to home he would occasionally let out a groan or wince of pain. We wheeled into the driveway and came to a stop, Tyler jumping out of the car and running into the house. Immediately I chased after him, catching the front door as he attempted to slam it.

“Tyler!” I shouted, causing him to stop and look at me. His eyes were red–bright red. Fuck.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he snapped, raising his arms to cover his head. He was trying to hide Blurryface from me.

“Blurry come on. Talk to me,” I said.

“I don’t need to hear you talk about him. I don’t want to hear you talk about him. You ditched me the whole day to hang out with him,” he started a path of no return, we were going to have that conversation.

“Tyl–We–He’s…We’re not…” I tried to explain it but couldn’t get my words out.

“Save it Y/N. I saw the way he looked at you, the way you hugged him. God you’re such a slut,” he seethed. My jaw dropped. The same words high school bullies spat at me were coming from the mouth of the person I love the most–the person who I’d decided to spend my life with.

“You’re awful,” I sniffled.

“And you’re not?” he continued to push, his eyes glowing brighter than before. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to unleash hell on him but it wasn’t Tyler speaking and I knew anything I did to Blurryface would just hurt Tyler more than he already was hurting.

“He’s gay,” I blurted. “He’s gay, there is nothing going on between us and there never has.” I wiped the tears falling from my face. It wasn’t my thing to tell him, Luke was out and everyone who knew him knew he was gay–in fact even those who didn’t know him could seem to tell. Almost instantly Tyler’s eyes turned from the flaring fiery red to a bloodshot brown, his shoulders falling.

“What?” I could tell he felt awful, the buildup of guilt obvious on his face.

“I said, he’s gay, and there isn’t and never has been anything going on between us. He’s my friend Tyler.” He held his hand in front of his mouth, shaking violently.

“Oh my god. I’m awful, I–I called you a–” he started to bawl and I pulled him in close.

“It wasn’t you Ty. It’s okay, it’s okay,” I hummed, rubbing my hand up and down his back and tears streamed down his face. Tyler buried his face into my shoulder, his body trembling with every sob.

“I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t mean it,” he choked out, his voice cracking.

“I know, baby. I know,” I whispered softly, keeping my arms wrapped tightly around him. My heart ached seeing him like this, so consumed by Blurryface’s anger and his own self-hatred.

“I can’t believe I let him do that… I can’t believe I said that to you. I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating, guilt lacing every word. I pulled back just enough to see his face, placing my hands gently on either side of his cheeks.

“Tyler, listen to me. That wasn’t you. I know you, and you would never say those things. I’m not angry at you. I just want to help you through this.” His eyes, still red and puffy, searched mine, like he was desperately trying to believe my words but couldn’t let go of his shame.

“But I hurt you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. I shook my head gently.

“I’m okay. I’m here, aren’t I? I love you, Tyler. Nothing he says, nothing Blurryface does, can change that.” He let out another shaky breath, his forehead resting against mine. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that. You deserve all the love in the world, and I’m going to keep reminding you of that until you believe it,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. For a moment, we stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of everything starting to lift, even if just a little. Tyler’s breathing slowly steadied, his tears drying as he leaned into my touch.

“We’ll get through this, Ty. Together.”

He nodded, his voice still raw. “Together.”

Requests open!

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mistxmood · 2 months

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On one of your posts, Peppermint butler's red stripes were on fire?

assuming you meant da recent one that has him and bmo interacting, in which case, that was a rp i was in . the pep (wonderful person!) roleplayer portrayed him differently from canon and can best be described as an au interpretation of what happens to him post-dumdum.

i grab you by the collar of your shirt before you walk off.

my pepperminteppi au (i just call him peptep for short) is while essentially his own person, he wants so bad to be that AND the royal butler that he grows himself into . and hes failing terribly

he has too much restraint and doesnt know how to properly handle his magic: part of my personal idea why he went to wizard school to begin with to be able to both a) relearn it the right way b) i forgot. uh.

basically he went to wizard school so he knows how to do regular magic. whilst also learning about dark magic by curse pep (the original peppermint butler messing with him) as his tutor. but after destroying the curse was while a good thing on his mind to relieve the stress hes been constantly putting him through, peptep grows up essentially trying to learn dark magic on his own, whereas the original peppermint butler had Death to help him. and this time around, death is out of the picture NOT BECAUSE HES DEAD YET hes another can of worms for later

so long story short peptep has trouble regulating his dark magic shit. its volatile and the added pressure of coconteppi's presence makes it strung thin, only kept in check by peptep's restraint and albeit slow practice.

so basically: piss him off and he blows his top off literally LOL

[Image Description: Peppermint Butler stands in at the focus of attention, enraged expression emphasized by the rapid fire that rises off of him from his stripes. He's gesturing, mouth open in the middle of some incomprehensible argument. Through all of this he looks unbothered by the fact that he's on fire.]

[The second picture is a doodle of Peppermint Butler, now lying flat on his front, exhausted from the endeavor. He's no longer on fire, unblemished save for the billowing smoke off his form.]

hes not proud of this fact and is trying to fix it cause it reminds him of the curse pep

#god. do i tag this #peppermint butler #pepper mint #yeah. okay. hi #mood's art #being judged (asks)

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utapri-translations-uuuu · 10 months

Text

LOVE DATE with Yamato - Translation

You might want to check out first ⇒ LOVE APPROACH Day 6.by Yamato & LOVE AFFAIR with Yamato

Please do not repost/retranslate without permission.

Here we are, this is the gym I’m renting.

Since it’s just the two of us today, I moved the machines and such around a bit in advance.

Naturally, we can’t just do my usual program, right?

Even so, you are indeed a little bit odd. Is working out with me really enjoyable for you?

Still, I’m so happy we can do this together. At any rate, don’t push yourself too hard. If it gets too difficult, let me know right away.

Well then, let’s stretch first! Let’s loosen up our bodies properly!

9… 10! Just like this.

Finally, let’s roll our wrists and ankles and we’re ready.

What we’re going to do now are exercises which incorporate martial arts moves. It’s like kicking and punching in a rhythm.

Give it a try casually to relieve stress.

After all, this is a date. No matter how much you say you want to train, doing it exactly as usual doesn’t feel right.

We need to think about how you can have fun doing it.

Don’t laugh at me! When I’m in a match, I think about what I should do to win, too.

Although I rely on my intuition most of the time, I can’t even begin to tell you just how much I think about you.

Well then, shall we get started? Lower your waist and position yourself like this. And then, pull back your arm and punch straight!

(demonstrates the move)

This is called a straight punch.

It’s nothing extraordinary, you’ll be able to do it soon, too.

Next we have kicks. This is the regular way.

(demonstrates a simple kick)

And after you get more used to it, you can do it like this.

(Yamato does a more complicated move and the listener claps)

That was a double roundhouse kick. I don’t know if it deserves an applause, but… this is great.

You look very happy. Is it because of the move I just did?

The expression you’re making right now is my favorite. I want to see more of your smiles.

Hey, explain it to me. What should I do to make you very happy? A difficult move like just now?

Or is it the same thing that I want to do right now?

Your feelings seem to be the same as mine.

(embraces the listener)

I wanted to hold you tight like this.

When we’re pressing against each other, it feels like our hearts are connected, right?

Next… It might be just me but…

(picks the listener up)

Carrying you in my arms like this. I wanted to do this too.

I want to show off that this absolute cutie is my lover. That way, everyone around us will know that your heart only belongs to me.

Well, this is just a little practice…

Practice for a lot of things!

For example, you see, it is necessary when I need to protect you and such..!

Instead of talking about this, hold on tighter to my neck.

You’re so soft and warm…

I can feel every part of you. I don’t want to ever let you go. I just want to snatch you away to our own private sweet world.

(chuckles) That’s okay, right?

Thank you.

I’ll treasure you more than anyone else.

#uta no prince sama #utapri #translation #english #he★vens #yamato hyuga #heavens #love affair #drama cd

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bleujae · 2 years

Text

'*•.¸♡ℙ𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜♡¸.•*'

♡ Summary: Jungwon, do you feel the pain now?

♡ Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff

♡ Word count: 2.4K

♡ Warnings: mentions of alcohol (keep in mind that Jungwon and Yua are the age of uni students in the story and in Korea, all uni students are able to drink legally), *let me know if there's anything else I should add ^^*

"Beautiful love, 하늘아래 너와 있다면 숨쉬는것만으로도 좋아"

۵•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈**.♡. **┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•۵

Yua let out a muffled scream as she banged her head on her desk and her fingers were tangled into her long black wavy hair. She had final exams coming up and she felt like her head was going to explode. She had a million tabs opened up from all of her lecture notes and her notebooks were filled with the practice problems she had done in class and for homework.

She was currently in an empty house since Jungwon was out with his friends, with her earbuds in both ears, blasting music that would motivate her. She sighed as she stood up from her desk to take a small break. She stretched by raising her hands above her head with her hands clasped together and squeezing her back. She heard a couple of satisfying cracks from her back and proceeded up to her neck, rotating her entire head to relieve tension in her neck.

She put on her fluffy slippers and headed to the kitchen to make herself an iced matcha latte. She started to boil some water while she got out her matcha powder and liquid sweetener and put them into her favorite clear cup. It was a present that Jungwon got her, knowing how much she loves to make her matcha lattes in clear cups to see the pale green color and the ice nicely floating in the drink.

She poured the hot water over her dark green paste to melt the flavors together. She headed towards the fridge to take out the milk. She paused when she could practically Jungwon’s voice in her head.

“You better grab the soy milk. You’re going to complain that your stomach hurts later if you grab the regular milk.” Jungwon scolded, grabbing the milk carton out of her hand.

“Fine.” Yua pouted, grabbing the soy milk instead.

Yua chuckled at the way she could hear Jungwon’s nagging even when he wasn’t home. She set the milk carton back in its original place before grabbing the soymilk and poured it over the powder and syrup. She always loved this part, where the dark green liquid turned light green, one of her favorite colors.

After she placed a couple of ice cubes in the cup with a straw, it was ready to drink. She let out a sigh of content when she took a huge sip. The taste of the bittersweet drink in her mouth gave her a boost.

She happily skipped back to her shared office with Jungwon, feeling like she was in a much better mood now that she had gotten her favorite drink. She plopped back into her comfy office chair and wrapped herself in the navy fluffy blanket around her body as she got back to studying.

-------

“One matcha latte with pearls. Regular amount of sugar and light ice please.” Jungwon ordered as he got his card ready in his hand so he could swipe on the machine.

“Would that be all?” The cashier asked, giving him a smile. He simply nodded, waiting to swipe his card.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want anything else? Cause I sure would like your number.” The cashier gave him another smile, a flirty one.

Jungwon sighed as he signed his name on the machine and put the pen back. “I would appreciate it if you would continue with your job and make my girlfriend’s drink so I can take it back to her quickly. She’s stressed while studying for exams.” Jungwon smiled triumphantly as the cashier automatically backed off, grumbling about how the cute ones were always taken.

He walked back to the table where his friends were sitting and plopped down. “You ordered another drink?” He turned to see Sunoo peeking at the receipt in the younger male’s hand.

“Mhm. Yua’s studying right now for exams and she’s really stressed.” Jungwon explained.

“Oooh look at what a good boyfriend Jungwon is being.” Heeseung teasingly cooed, making Jungwon’s ears go tomato red.

“Hyung became such a simp.” Riki joined in the teasing making Jungwon’s ear go even more red and hot. “Ew a simp for my twin sister.” Riki added on to the joke while he fake gagged.

“No I’m not.” Jungwon protested, placing his hands over his ears.

“Yah yah.” Stop teasing him.” Jungwon threw Jake a grateful look before Jake spoke up again. “The poor shy boy’s ears are going to burst any minute now.”

“Hyung!” Jungwon whined, feeling totally betrayed by Jake as the rest of the group laughed at the younger boy. “You guys are just jealous you don’t even have a girlfriend to treat this way.”

The rest of the boys, except Jay and Sunghoon, groaned at the younger’s remark, knowing it was true. Jungwon had a smirk, knowing he had won this round.

“Order #492!” Jungwon sprang up from his seat when he heard Yua’s drink order, receiving the drink from the employee. The rest of his friends stood up from their seats, knowing that they were gonna leave after Jungwon had gotten his girlfriend’s drink.

“Did you start the song yet, Jungwon?” Jay asked the 04 liner male, making him shake his head.

“I think I’m going to work on it when Yua has exams. Last time I worked on it when she was home, she got sulky with me.” He answered.

Jungwon definitely learned his lesson when his girlfriend gave him the silent treatment, after practically ignoring her for the entire day. It wasn’t the first time it had happened and while Yua had been extremely patient with him, she also was pretty upset that this wasn’t a first time occurrence. These days, Jungwon tried to work on his songs, either in the company’s studio, or in the shared office when Yua had classes.

“I want to have a movie night at my place, who wants to come along?” Heeseung announced, making a couple of the boys answer his question.

However Jay and Sunghoon both said they couldn’t since they had dates with their girlfriends. Which made the rest of the group turn to Jungwon.

“How about you, Jungwon?” Jake asked.

“I think I might stay home tonight. I kind of want to have a movie night with Yua.” He sheepishly answered, bracing himself for the teasing.

“Oi, now he doesn’t even want to watch a movie with us since he got a girlfriend.” Sunoo dramatically said, wiping his nonexistent tears making Jungwon roll his eyes slightly.

“We’ve barely spent time together for the past three days because she was studying for her exams. Yesterday, she was even out for the whole day because she was at the library with her friends.” Jungwon pouted, making the rest of the boys chuckle.

“Alright, alright. You can just join us next time.” Heeseung said, patting the boy’s back.

And with that, the friend group dispersed, going their own ways.

Jungwon headed back to his shared apartment with Yua. The bag that the boba was in was swinging back and forth as he went back home.

I wonder if she’s done with her studies.

-------

Yua banged her head against the desk again, feeling a headache coming along just by looking at the study guide her professor gave to her class.

How am I nowhere near done with my studying??

She groaned as she threw her head back, making it hit on the back of her office chair. She rubbed her eyes, feeling them get very tired after her long hours of studying.

As she was about to get out of her chair, she heard the jingle of the door which indicated someone was punching in the numbers to open the door.

“I’m home, love~” She giggled as she heard her boyfriend announce his arrival in a sing-song voice.

“In the office, Wonie.” She called back, soon hearing the skipping footsteps approaching their shared office.

She giggled again when she saw her cute boyfriend poke his head through the door, the dimples deeply prominent on his soft cheeks. “Guess what I got~” Jungwon sang again, as he waved the plastic bag in his hands.

“You got me boba?” Yua gasped in delight, seeing the delicious drink in his hands.

“Sure did.” Jungwon answered, giving her a kiss on her cheek when he approached her desk. He set the drink next to the computer which Yua immediately snatched up and popped the straw in, taking a sip. Her eyes lit up at the taste of her number one boba drink from her favorite spot and she wrapped her arms around the standing boy’s torso after setting her drink down.

“Thank you, Wonie.” She murmured into his sweater, making him pat her head and smile.

“Anything for you, love.” Jungwon chuckled. “Are you almost done with studying?” He leaned down to see what was on her screen. His nose scrunched up at the confusing mess on her computer. “I don’t get how you can do all of this.”

Yua chuckled at her boyfriend’s cuteness. “It’s my major.”

Jungwon shivered. “Still.” That made Yua chuckle again.

“Well, I kinda wanted to have a movie night today. Are you free to do that?” Jungwon offered the girl.

She paused for a bit, thinking if she did have time. “I’ll probably have time after I finish studying for my calculus class.”

“When will that be?” He asked, making her think again.

“I honestly don’t know, love.” She answered him truthfully. “I’ll let you know when I finish.”

Jungwon was satisfied enough with that answer, nodding at her. “Alright!”

Yua gave him a smile before turning back to her computer. Jungwon gave a slight pout as she turned her back on him.

Well might as well start that project now.

-------

Jungwon was getting restless. Sitting in that chair, in front of his computer with his project open but he didn’t have a clue on what he wanted to create. He knew he had a theme that the company gave him to follow. However he didn’t know what direction he wanted to go.

He leaned back on his chair, letting out a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling. He tore his headphones off and looked over at his girlfriend, who was still focused on her computer and textbooks.

Might as well get snacks for the movie night.

He thought as he stood up from his chair. He put his hoodie back on and a beanie on top of his head before heading out the door and to the convenience store.

It didn’t take him more than thirty minutes to go to the convenience store, get the snacks the couple liked and come back to their shared apartment. He placed the plastic bags on their small counter top where they always ate their meals, and walked back into their office. He peaked back into the office, sighing as he saw his beloved in the same position she was when he left.

He slowly snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her body while putting his chin on top of her head. He buried his face into her neck that was bare from her wearing a loose crop top. He placed a small peck on the base of her neck, sending small shivers down her spine. “When are you finishing, love? I wanna watch the movie with you.”

“I-” Yua cleared her throat. “I’ll probably be done in less than thirty minutes.”

“Can’t you just finish it tomorrow?” Jungwon smirked as he could feel Yua slightly stiffen up at his warm breath going down her neck.

“Be patient, Wonie.” Yua told him, making him pout.

“But I miss you~” Jungwon whined, making Yua laugh at his cuteness.

“I promise I’ll be done in twenty mins. I just need to finish these last two problems.” Yua said to him.

“Fine. You promise right?” Yua nodded at Jungwon’s statement. “Alright then.” Jungwon turned her chair to face him and gave her a light peck on her lips. “That’s for the promise.” He said before giving her another peck. “And that’s the seal.”

He grinned as he backed away from the desk, amused at her red cheeks.

Yua shook her head when her boyfriend exited the room.

“Such a dork.”

-------

As promised, after twenty minutes, Yua was finally able to stand up from her chair and stretch, feeling all the cracks in her back and neck.

“Aigo.” She sighed as she rotated her head like earlier and as if he had freaking super hearing, Jungwon came bounding into the room.

“You’re done!” He exclaimed, pulling her out of the office and into their living room. Yua could feel herself melting when she got to the living room. Jungwon had already turned on the TV and went to the movie they have been meaning to watch for months now. He had all their favorite snacks and drinks out. He even brought out the wine that Yua always loved to drink and the two clear cups they always used for drinking wine together.

“This is all great, Wonie. Thanks.” Yua said before giving her boyfriend a small peck on his cheek.

“Like I said before, anything for you, my love.” Jungwon responded back. He lighty pulled her to the couch, sitting down first before dragging her down. She sat in between his legs, before snuggling up on his chest. Jungwon got a warm blanket and placed it over both of them before laying back down and wrapping one of his arms around her waist.

He hit play and the couple watched as the movie started to play on the TV.

“Was this payback day for what I did last time?” Jungwon whispered into the girl’s ear as she tried to pour some of the wine into her cup.

“Of course not.” Yua giggled before smiling mischievously. “But now you know how I feel when you’re working on your projects all day.”

He chuckled before giving a light peck on the side of her head. “I’m sorry, love. I don’t know how you did it. It felt like torture.”

She giggled as she brought back to his embrace after placing her wine cup back on the coffee table. She set her head on his chest, where she could hear her boyfriend’s heart beating in a steady pace.

Both of them sighed happily as the rest of the night consisted of giggles, cuddles, and lots and lots of wine.

۵•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈**.♡. **┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•۵

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen ff #enhypen fluff #enhypen jungwon #jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon ff #jungwon imagines #jungwon drabbles #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff

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