#one man and his scarves
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silverfoxstole · 2 months ago
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Apparently it’s National Scarf Day so it seems appropriate to post a set of Paul modelling some of his collection.
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silverfoxstole · 10 months ago
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I think you’re right there! And I also know exactly which coat it is…
Since we're expecting a snowy weather here in Athens, here's Paul and (some of) his scarves.
Happy McGann Monday!
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(credits to the creators of these gifs)
(I also have the suspicion that he's wearing the same coat in the third and fifth gif in the left column -aka A Little Place on the Edgeware Road and Oi! For England documentary. Another addition to the "Paul wearing his own clothes on set" collection, @silverfoxstole ?)
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creaseninja · 2 years ago
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since this acc is relatively new i have no fucking idea where to start w posting my art so i’m just gonna start with this scarf i knitted for my hydreigon plush. isn’t he handsome
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depressedraisin · 2 years ago
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miles is wearing the celine brown leather to his show today................
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bbbrianjones · 1 year ago
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paul richard hewson, 1952-1985
“we used to go away on tour for maybe three or four months and paul would have this little blue globite school bag and you used to say “what’s in your bag, paul?” and it would be a wrestling magazine featuring andré the giant, who was his hero, and a portable chess set, some cough mixture, and he had his drugs in there…. i guess.” - todd hunter
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tojisun · 10 days ago
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when the older man is the one with daddy issues so he's nurturing and careful and indulgent, but he's also so teasing when he's taking you apart. how he draws out the pleasure until you're crying, splintering at the edges, your words coming out in weak babbles. until you're pawing at him, begging for anything - your orgasm, a kiss, him to engulf you in his warm embrace.
but also thinking about how he loves to feed you; cooking up healthy and delicious meals, while you're over there in the living room busying yourself because last time you helped him, the two of you got distracted and forgot that there were potatoes in the oven.
or how he just loves buying you clothes; from shirts and sweaters to pants and skirts, to toques and scarves, down to the things you didn't even know you needed like an extra pair of gloves or stockings cuz you've torn the other one, remember?
and how he starts looking for a bigger house, somewhere with a bigger lot and a wider garage, and more rooms cuz you mentioned that you wanted your own office; that your back is starting to hurt from working in the dining room, with those old but lovingly worn out seats. and this one that he found has a bigger kitchen, with an island and tall, tall windows, and a place for a chandelier.
yeah, he's already imagining cooking for you here while you watch him from the island. this way, you're closer to him; easier for him to reach for a kiss.
and just also thinking about how he always picks you up from work; he's never late and sometimes, he'd even be too early. it's not even like he works odd hours because he should be finishing up at the same time that you do, but he rather bring his work to home - wrap up while you're already in bed, snoozing, not knowing that he crawled back out of it after he's cuddled you to sleep - than not pick you up at all. he loves the drive, anyway, and he's a senior at his position so he's got room for flexibility.
it's just, he is so greedy of every chance he can get to be with you. to be of service for you.
thinking about all of this knowing this is so john price :(
(ext)
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angorwhosebabyisthis · 1 year ago
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having a lot of inarticulate thoughts about pericles' genderousness this evening, in particular how i imagine/interpret his expression of it having changed over time, but they will not coalesce. when will my one brain cell for queer readings return from the war
#SDMItag#sdmi#professor pericles#me on the last rewatch before my current one: i think retroactively i picked up Genders vibes from him as an nb egg kid. what's up with tha#me on this rewatch and with the newfound knowledge that his VA is queer: oh it's the faggotry. okay#the gay-coding is obvious and in context really shitty#but it hadn't really clicked for me until this go around to connect that to his gender presentation specifically#once you look past traits that it's easy to default to seeing as masc by the show's intent; but aren't inherently; like his vocal register#it's very easy to read his *presentation* as the mixed-signals kind of androgynous; instead of the degendered kind of androgynous#both the parts of his physical appearance that he controls; and parts that are pretty obviously *evoking* chosen aspects of one's appearanc#see: a third of this dude's face is eyeliner + mascara despite the fact that he seemingly magically manifested it as Dark Circles in prison#and the *way* he talks beyond his vocal register#and it seems pretty significant that the one piece of clothing we see him wear; and clearly *choose* to express himself with#is a *scarf*#scarves are in recent history heavily associated with gay men's fashion#if you're a cis man and wearing a scarf that isn't Plain and Practical and during cold weather; there is a heavy connotation of That's Gay#and not only does pericles wear his scarf a hundred percent of the time but it's *purple*#it's Feminine(tm)#and it feels like there's something to be said here#about the intersection between how cis gay men's gender expression is perceived and portrayed#and how it pings nonbinary people; especially multigendered ones#at least it certainly did for me#something something we recognize our own; and sometimes the circle of our own is cast much wider and runs much deeper than we realize#and sometimes those moments of clarity come about through watching a character be the worst fucking person on earth lmao#i'd say god love him; but god gave up on him in fear for their life a long time ago so i will do it instead
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eightmakesonebraincell · 11 months ago
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ateez as mafia boyfriends (christmas special)
genre: mafia!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, brainrot and smutfest of mafia x christmas tropes
length: 13.8k
c/w: nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), graphic depictions of death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (murder, abduction, corruption), pet names (kitten, babe, baby, love, sweetheart)
a/n: this one’s for yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic), mafia anon and everyone who’s sent in an ask about mafia!ateez before 🫶 loosely based on aammwffy but this is still a standalone fic not part two thank you for coming to my ted talk 😙✌️ merry christmas y'all
hongjoong
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the stocking in your hand jerks when you suddenly feel it
it’s a black stocking that hongjoong has made for wooyoung from out of a spare shirt
there are already several other hand-made stockings hanging on nails that he has hammered into the wall of the warehouse
and this whole ‘ateez’s mob boss couple decorates the gang’s old warehouse for christmas’ shenanigan would have been cute and wholesome…
if not for the vibrator that is currently pulsing inside your throbbing pussy
“why’d you stop, kitten?” hongjoong murmurs into your ear from behind your shoulder, knowing very well the reason why is currently in the pocket of his black slacks
when you struggle to answer, he snakes the hand that isn’t toying with the remote around your waist to the front of your pants
“hmm? what’s wrong?” he asks teasingly
your knees buckle when he suddenly cups your core, pressing the vibrator further into you as he switches it to a higher setting
gripping onto his forearm to ground yourself, you’re unable to stop yourself from moaning at the feeling of his muscles rippling underneath your fingertips while he grinds his hand against you
but as soon as you feel your high approaching, it is ripped away from you
hongjoong switches the vibrator off and removes his hand
you are close to cursing him out, but the way that you can feel the hardened front of his slacks chase after your ass for friction whenever you move away even the slightest has you confident that it will not be long until he is cracking
until he begs for you
letting out a shaky exhale, you hang the stocking still in your grip next to mingi’s one; a dark, navy blue that used to be a fluffy towel, now repurposed for christmas
hongjoong passes you the last stocking but you let it drop to the ground
“oops,” you drawl coquettishly
you bend over to pick up jongho’s stocking, slowly and deliberately brushing up against hongjoong’s cock with the curve of your ass
you smirk when the friction draws out a guttural groan from his chest
a hand comes to rest just below your waist, “you’re playing with fire right now, kitten” 
“looks like we need a little…water to put it out, then,” you press back against him once more
he snaps
it’s not long before the tip of his swollen cock is pressing against your entrance, his slacks still bunched around his thighs in his hurry to fuck you
he pulls out the vibrator and he shushes your whines at the feeling of emptiness by thrusting three fingers right into you
“fuck, kitten,” he mouths the side of your neck, “you’re already stretched out and ready for my cock”
your mind goes fuzzy at his words and hongjoong smirks in satisfaction
sliding his fingers from out of you, he lines the tip of his cock between your legs-
you both freeze when a loud clang resonates throughout the warehouse, like someone has hit the outer steel walls
hard.
“kim hongjoong!” an unfamiliar voice yells with fury from outside
another clang, this time closer towards the entrance
there’s not much holding the warehouse doors closed; you two weren’t exactly expecting hostile visitors
“you think we can get a round in before they make it through the doors?” hongjoong asks
“if you can cum in the next ten seconds, sure”
a colourful string of curses leaves his mouth before he pulls out of you and fixes his slacks - with difficulty, you must say - while you adjust your own clothes
just in time for the warehouse doors to fling open
“you killed my fucking brother, you motherfucking bastard!”
“who are you again?” hongjoong leans back to rest against the edge of the table while he watches you pick up jongho’s long-forgotten stocking on the floor. “you’ll have to remind me.”
numerous men stride in towards the far end of the warehouse where you two are - were - hanging up the stockings
you look away with disinterest; it’s nothing you and hongjoong can’t take care of
“kyungseok,” the man grits out, jaw clenching with irritation when neither of you show any signs of recognition. “you killed my brother, kyungtae. leader of the bluebirds.”
at his last word, it finally clicks
“ah,” hongjoong cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck lazily, “the one who thought they could touch my kitten and get away with it”
meanwhile, you step back after hanging the last stocking on the wall, admiring the row of decorations
you direct your question at the man behind you, “what do you think, kyungtaek?”
“it’s kyungseok,” he snarls
you wave dismissively, pressing a kiss against hongjoong’s jaw as you praise, “these look wonderful, babe”
you hear kyungseok yell out at his lackeys followed by a flurry of movement
hongjoong sighs, sneaks a kiss in, and then gently steps the both of you to the side out of the path of an incoming kick
“if we make this quick, maybe i can finish fucking you before seonghwa and the others get here,” he winks
then you two move
in quick succession, you use the momentum of their thrown punches to yank two men over your shoulder, one after the other
the wind is knocked out of them and you aim a sharp blow to their necks to render them unconscious
realising that close combat may not be the best idea, another bluebird member brandishes a knife to gain the upper hand
“weapons? that’s not very fair,” you purr
you lunge forward before you have even finished your sentence, catching him off guard and grabbing hold of his arm
twisting his wrist backwards, he shouts in pain as his grip on the knife loosens and it clatters to the floor
“oh dear,” you mock, your hands twisting up to curl around his throat
vaguely, you register hongjoong yell out your name
“duck!”
you barely have time to crouch, your hand yanking down the man with you from where your fingers are still wrapped around his throat, before a burly male is tossed right over your body and sent careening into the table nearby
you watch in dismay as cookies scatter onto the floor, wood splintering with a loud crack
“fuck you, hongjoong, i spent ages arranging them onto the plates”
he has the audacity to smirk in apology while he wraps his arms around the neck of another man and twists, forearms flexing as the bone gives way with a sickening snap, “sorry, kitten”
the man whose throat you have been squeezing is now limp and he sags to the floor
he’s too heavy for you to throw at hongjoong, so you settle for picking up the knife you disarmed and fling it at your boyfriend
“duck,” you tease
hongjoong rolls his eyes and drops his body towards the ground, your knife hurtling past the empty space where his forehead was just milliseconds ago, before it hits its mark and makes itself home in the chest of a man who has been sneaking up from behind
moving in tandem, hongjoong extends his leg and sweeps it along the ground to knock the thug off his feet
the man’s arms fling backwards as his weight crashes towards the ground, colliding into the christmas tree you had decorated earlier and taking it down with him
you pinch the bridge of your nose as the ornaments shatter
“oops?” hongjoong shrugs his shoulders noncommittally 
stepping over the lifeless bodies scattered by your feet, you move away a little to pull out your phone
most of the bluebird gang has already been taken out; hongjoong can handle the rest himself
“hey, seonghwa and i are nearly there,” yunho’s voice sounds over the receiver
“oh,” you hum contemplatively, “is anyone else still on their way?”
“probably wooyoung. you know him, he’s always late,” he chuckles into the phone, “why?”
“can you see if he can buy some new ornaments? and pick up some fresh cookies while he’s at it”
there’s a yell and a loud thud as a body rolls to a stop just a few feet away from you
“what was that?” yunho startles
hongjoong has picked up the fallen christmas tree and is currently swinging it around like a crazed batter
“just hongjoong having some fun”
when you hang up, you are just in time to hear the loud thwunk as the tree connects with kyungseok’s temple
you’re not sure whether the splinter you hear is a result of the trunk or his skull cracking
the last bluebird member drops down dead, blood pooling out from under him
hongjoong scoffs, “merry fucking christmas”
and for good measure, hongjoong shoves an intact bauble into the man’s mouth
it’s finally silent
“now,” he turns to you, “where were we before we were…interrupted”
at hongjoong’s predatory gaze, you feel the arousal from before washing over you
he approaches you leisurely as he uncuffs his sleeves to roll them up, loosening the top buttons of his shirt, all the while undressing you with his lustful eyes
you drink up his appearance, eyes raking over his exposed chest that shines with a sheen layer of sweat
he’s in front of you now
“looks like i’ll have to prepare you again, kitten”
his fingers start to slip under the waistband of your panties when-
“heard you fucktards knocked over the cookies!”
his voice echoes throughout the warehouse before he even steps foot into the warehouse
wooyoung is fucking early.
you’re quite positive hongjoong is about to deck him through the roof
“wow,” wooyoung lets out a low whistle as he walks in to survey the scene, eyes scanning wildly over the splattered blood and mutilated bodies across the floor with an expression that appears mostly impressed
hongjoong’s clenched fists are white
uncaring of his leader’s lack of response, wooyoung continues, “when you told us the dress code was red, i didn’t think you meant this kind of red”
he approaches you two to squat down beside kyungseok’s body and taps the bauble in his mouth with interest, “rad decorations”
you watch in amusement as hongjoong’s last string snaps
“wooyoung,” he says evenly
it goes in one ear and out the other
wooyoung looks around as he asks, “can i tie him up with tinsel before the others get here?”
“jung wooyoung”
said man finally blanches
good thing too
because you don’t think hongjoong is joking when he says,
“if you don’t get the fuck out right now, you are going to become part of the decorations.”
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seonghwa
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“remember, as soon as i leave-”
“i need to lock the door,” you finish seonghwa’s sentence cheekily
he chuckles as he shakes his head fondly, “and if you feel like anything is off-”
“call you or hongjoong straight away,” you mimic, emphasising the last two words with the same seriousness he nags you with all the time
despite your words, your heart flutters shyly at seonghwa’s neverending protectiveness and worry for you
with his line of work, it isn’t easy for him to leave your side, much less leave you alone in the apartment
he understands though
it’s only been a few months since he found you; barely a shell of the curious, energetic and endearing person that you are now
under his careful nurturing, you have flourished and learnt to love and trust again
it doesn’t mean that you are quite ready to leave the apartment just yet for something other than a quick grocery run or walk in the park with seonghwa at your side
but it’s okay - baby steps
“i’ll be back at 6 and then we can cook dinner together,” he kisses your temple sweetly, “see you later, love”
you watch as he lingers outside the door, feet always ever so reluctant to leave
he motions for you to close the door and you know he won’t leave until he sees that you have closed and locked it
so with a final wave, you shut the door, turn the lock and then press your ear right up against the wood
he thinks you don’t know that he does it, and you won’t admit to it in fear that he will stop out of embarrassment
but you hear him whisper love you before his footsteps recede down the corridor
you have most of the day to yourself until seonghwa comes back
he had said that hongjoong was giving the gang christmas night off, a pleasant and welcome change from all the nights you fight the sleep tugging at your eyelids as you wait curled up on the sofa for seonghwa to come home
you occupy your day with little odd jobs here and there around the house, like washing the dishes and doing the laundry and cleaning the bedroom
he always tells you off because he wants to be the one doing them for you, but the small exasperated smile that he gives you every time barely conceals his underlying fondness
and then when you have exhausted the chores, you pull out a pencil and some paper and start drawing out ideas for a gingerbread house
because seonghwa had promised to make one with you later tonight once he discovered you had never tried it before
you cannot contain your excitement as the clock finally ticks to six
your little sketches lay abandoned across the coffee table as you start to pace the living room skittishly, ears perking up whenever you hear noise outside
half an hour passes just like that but there’s still no sign of seonghwa
that’s okay, you tell yourself
you understand that he doesn’t have a normal office job where he can just clock out and walk away as he wishes
sending him a quick text asking if he is on his way home, you busy yourself with lining up all the utensils on the kitchen counter perfectly parallel, just the way he likes it
the chopsticks
the spatula
the knife
the cooking board
again.
the chopsticks
the spatula
the knife
the cooking board
you glance up at the clock
it’s seven
you tap on your phone to bring the screen to life
no notifications
you try to quell the growing panic inside of you
but you cannot ignore the fact that seonghwa would usually send you a quick message when he is held up by something, especially on a day where he has clearly told you when to expect him home
what if something went wrong?
what if he is hurt?
what if he is missing?
what if he is…dying?
you take a shuddering breath as you pick up your phone again with shaking fingers
7:24 PM
the glare of your screen seems too bright all of a sudden
you press on the first contact of your speed dial, seonghwa’s name popping up, decorated with a little heart that he added himself when he first entered his number into your new phone
the call rings and rings and rings
“the person you have called is not available, please leave a short message after the tone-”
your chest heaves to force oxygen into your lungs
you haven’t had a real reason to contact him yet, not with seonghwa personally keeping you in the loop
but you don’t hesitate to press the second contact on your speed dial
hongjoong greets you with a little surprise, obviously not having expected a call from you, “hey, is everything alright?”
you fight to keep the panic out of your voice as you ask him, “is hwa still there?”
there’s some rustling in the background
“hwa? no, he left almost two hours ago”
your stomach lurches dangerously
you don’t realise you’ve let out a soft whimper until hongjoong is repeating your name over and over again into the phone
“take a breath for me,” he soothes, “what’s wrong?”
“he said he’d be back by six,” your eyes start to well with the tears you’ve been suppressing. “he’s still not home”
hongjoong curses, calling out for the others still at base
then his voice filters through the speakers again, “we’re going to look into this, okay? everything’s going to be fine. you’ve done a good job letting me know”
with reassurances and words of comfort, a promise to call you back in a couple of minutes, hongjoong hangs up the call
yeosang and jongho sidle up to hongjoong on high alert, having heard the end of the conversation
“seonghwa’s missing,” hongjoong grits out, already trying to track down the other’s phone location
san appears in the doorway to the room looking grim
he holds up seonghwa’s phone in his hand, “he forgot to take it with him”
hongjoong curses lowly, “park fucking seonghwa. i swear if he isn’t already dead by now, he will be when i find him”
he tells yunho to hold down the fort at base while he, yeosang and wooyoung trace the route to the apartment you now share with seonghwa
you are unsure how long it will be until hongjoong calls you again
what you do know is that you’re not going to sit around idly while seonghwa could very well be in danger
your mind flashes back to all those times you both stand in the expanse of his living room, coffee table pushed to one side, as he gives you what he coins the ultimate self-hwafense class
he demonstrates and talks you through both defensive and offensive stances and how you can use your size and agility to your advantage
sometimes, he hates that he has to even teach you how to protect yourself
because if it were up to him, he would be your protector forever
but seonghwa knows the dangers of being involved with the mafia and so instead, he gently adjusts your movements, gives you praises when you grasp the concept, and demands kisses when you successfully pin him down
and more often than not, his self-hwafense classes end up in giggles and laughter because there is nothing less intimidating than his sparkling doe-eyes and wide grin as he pretends to act the part of a threatening intruder
just as your fingers brush over the cold steel of the gun hidden underneath the table, your blood runs cold when you hear your doorknob jiggling
it’s not purposeful - it is hesitant, intermittent and careful
exactly how an intruder would open a door
you know you do not have a choice
you have to protect yourself
slinking slowly towards the door and positioning yourself so that the intruder will walk in with their back to you, you grasp the gun in your hand a little tighter with bated breath
the lock clicks open and you watch the knob turning to nudge the door open
your mind screams at you to run and hide as you fight every cell in your body to keep your feet rooted where they are
amongst the fogginess of fear clouding your brain, you have enough sense to wait for the perfect opportunity
…now.
with as much strength as your shaking hands can muster, you slam the butt of your gun against the intruder’s head
hongjoong’s phone vibrates in his hand and he answers the call within the first ring
but before he can even get so much as a word out, he hears your trembling whisper
“hongjoong, he- he’s here”
“shit,” hongjoong says at the same time wooyoung steps harder on the accelerator, “who? are you okay? are you safe?”
“oh no,” your voice becomes harder to hear as the phone slips further away from you, “he’s awake”
“we’re close, hang in there- fuck” hongjoong punches the side of the car door when your call cuts off
wooyoung doesn’t need to be told - he floors the car
the tyres squeal as they pull up to the street of the apartment, wooyoung having just barely turned off the ignition before the three of them are dashing in and bypassing the lift for the stairs
as they reach the door of your apartment, they see that it is nudged open
a sign that cues the three of them to immediately slip out their guns
with hongjoong at the front, they barge in and point their guns at the figures in the living room
“move and i’ll blow your fucking brains out,” he commands
“hongjoong?”
said man falters
that’s not your voice
“the fuck?”
of all things he was prepared for, this was not one of them
because seonghwa is in the living room
sitting on a chair nursing a very bruised head with a sorry bag of frozen peas pressed to it
but it is very much seonghwa, alive and kicking
something on hongjoong’s face must show how much he wants to skin the man and feed him to the sharks because seonghwa grimaces and makes a very poor attempt to break the tension
“surprise?”
wooyoung loses it and keels in on himself with laughter
seonghwa gestures weakly with the hand that is not holding the bag of peas at the inconspicuous paper bag sitting on the kitchen counter, which is looking slightly sad and saggy after he quite literally crumpled on top of it, “i bought donuts?”
when hongjoong exhales the longest sigh known to mankind, pinching the bridge of his nose, you completely understand how he feels
“they’re shaped like reindeers and elves…they’re limited edition…” seonghwa’s voice trails off and you see him visibly wilt like a sunflower in a cave
because as much as he knows and is sorry for making you and the gang worry, he had rushed to line up at that donut shop you have recently fallen in love with because he thought surprising you with the cute christmas donuts would make you smile
well, surprise you he did
it’s not everyday you knock out an intruder, only to find out that it’s actually your boyfriend
“i’m sure they are very cute, hwa,” you tenderly replace his hand on the makeshift ice pack so that he can rest his arm, “thank you”
and you really do mean it
seonghwa perks up at your words and snakes his arm around your waist, tugging you closer until you are basically sitting on his sturdy thigh
he looks haughtily at the other three men, “at least somebody appreciates them”
and then he lets out a yelp as his hands scramble to catch his forgotten phone that hongjoong has tossed at him
“i’ll let you off the hook this time, park seonghwa, but only because it’s christmas and i have better things to be doing. we all do,” the leader makes a move with yeosang and wooyoung to leave
but he seems to think better of it because hongjoong whips around to make one last biting remark
“they better be some fucking good donuts, the best fucking donuts you’ll ever eat”
you and seonghwa dissolve into giggles once the door slams shut behind the trio
“how’s your head feeling now?” you take the bag of peas off and gingerly touch the red bump
“much better,” his eyes twinkle, “all it needs now is your kiss”
you blatantly turn your nose into the air and stand up to grab the bag of donuts, “no kisses. that’s for scaring me”
he grumbles indignantly under his breath like a five year old; nose scrunched up, lip jutted out
you laugh, presenting the bag to him and watching as his demeanor immediately brightens
“well, let’s find out if these are the best fucking donuts we’ll ever eat”
seonghwa opens the bag excitedly, having made it very clear that he wanted to do the honours and present them to you
but then he freezes, mouth opening to form an ‘o’
and then his shoulders sag once more
seonghwa wails
and it all makes sense when you peer into the bag
“the donuts are all squished!”
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yunho
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“J, can you take a look at my sniper? i think something’s wrong with the scope”
you dog-ear the page of the file you’re scanning through to look up at yunho
“i’m pretty sure i know the least about scopes out of everybod-”
“cause i can’t seem to take my sight off you,” he waggles his eyebrows at you with an overly-smouldering gaze as he leans oh so casually against the doorframe
you swallow the insult that is about to leave your mouth, instead, undoing the dog ear and dutifully continuing from where you left off
unfazed, yunho steps closer towards your table with an excited bounce, “want to see my gun? i’ve got a pretty big one”
you hum, “i’ve seen it plenty times, nothing new”
his eyes crinkle at having received a reaction, which spurs him on further
yunho leans down a little into your space so that you are forced to look up at him, “then can i put my gun in your holster?”
you finally laugh at the crudeness of his words and you hate that he looks utterly pleased with himself
(you don’t really hate it, but you know that he loves flustering you)
(you can pretend if it’s for him)
“remind me again why you’re my boyfriend?”
“cause i shoot my load into you,” he flirts, complete with a wink, finger guns and then a flying kiss that you pretend to snatch out of the air and slam against the ground
immediately, he looks like a puppy whose tail you have just stepped on, so you reach out for his hand and tug him closer with another laugh, turning your body so that you can bury your face into his stomach and wrap your arms around his waist
one of his arms naturally slides over your shoulders to encase you, his other hand running through your hair the way he knows you like it
“what do you want, you big puppy,” your voice comes out muffled
yunho may have claimed you as the J to his PB, but you think he is better nicknamed BP than peanut butter
BP as in Big Puppy
“i miss you,” he admits
you pull away and shake your head, “you see me every day, yunho. we work together”
“yeah, and i’m sick of work cockblocking us,” he says with finality
yunho swipes your files to the side in one smooth motion, clearing the table as he easily lifts you by the waist to perch you on the edge
you barely have time to complain about the files until he is pressing his lips against yours
“i miss you,” he repeats when you break apart to take a breath, “and it’s christmas. relax”
“you talk too much,” you say, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss
his large hands settle on your waist, just below the hem of your shirt
your back arches from sensitivity when the fingers of his right hand slip under your shirt and slowly trail upwards towards your chest
his other hand snakes behind you to splay across the pretty arch of your back
you loop your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair for purchase
a stuttered moan escapes your lips when he shifts and his thigh brushes against your core
“you like that?” yunho grinds his thigh against you once more, eyes dark as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “bet you’d like to ride my thigh until you cum”
you’re about to hook your legs around his waist when there’s a yell from the doorway
yunho immediately retracts his hands and you rush to tidy the appearance of your top, both of your heads snapping towards the door
wooyoung is there, body already turning back the way he came from with a hand blocking his own view, “can you guys get a room or close the door at least?”
“or you can stop walking in on us,” yunho suggests with a red face
but the younger is already out of earshot, too busy prancing through the rest of the base announcing, “PB&J are fucking in the office again, nobody disturb them!”
yunho rubs the tips of his flushed ears and you pepper one final kiss along his jawline before you bend down to pick up the scattered files from the floor
“don’t tell me you’re going to read your stupid files again,” he groans
“well, reading these stupid files happen to be direct orders from hongjoong,” you retort
“then good thing i’ve already asked him for permission to take you out today”
he snatches the file from your hand and tosses it haphazardly onto the table, quirking an eyebrow teasingly
“what do you mean?”
yunho grabs your hand, leading you towards the door as he tells you excitedly, “let’s go on a date”
and that’s how you find yourself wrapped up in yunho’s coat over the thin sweater you slipped on because nobody told you that you’d be fucking freezing your ass off on the open rooftop of a building on christmas night
it had taken all but three seconds of stepping out onto the rooftop for a shiver to descend through your body from head to toe
“this is a date?” you had groused
yunho had then immediately taken off his coat to wrap around your shoulders as he made a pleased noise of affirmation
“then do tell me why you took your sniper along,” you sniffle a little, compliantly allowing yunho to button you up. “you want me to tell you how sexy you look while you shoot someone through the head?”
yunho grins down at you
“you think i’m sexy when i snipe people?”
you roll your eyes at his selective hearing
(you think he’s always sexy)
at your playful shove, he reaches into his pockets to pull out a pair of earplugs for you
“put them in,” he tells you before you can even ask what they’re for
when you make no move to do so, he gingerly tucks your hair out of the way so that he can put the plugs into your ears
watch me, he gestures with his hands
and then he is perching along the edge of the rooftop, setting up his sniper in front of him and adjusting the scope as he looks down the sight into the far distance
you watch as he applies pressure to the back of the rifle with his broad shoulder, as his slender fingers curl around the trigger, as he closes one eye and exhales a slow breath
then he shoots
you think that he is going to get up and finally tell you what he is doing, except he pulls the bolt back to chamber a new bullet and adjusts the angle of his rifle
and then he shoots again
you catch yourself staring at the veins running across the back of his hand and the way his finger flexes around the trigger
because you know all too well how it feels for his finger to flex in…other places
you lose count of how many times yunho pulls the trigger - at one point, he even reloads a magazine
he has almost finished the second round of bullets before he finally appears to be satisfied, scrambling up and dusting off his knees
with an eager tug once you have taken out your earplugs, he brings you to his sniper that he has left in its place on the floor
“look through the scope!”
you are careful to ease yourself down into a mimic of yunho’s earlier pose, knowing that even the slightest of nudges can displace the target by miles
hovering behind you, he shifts from foot to foot, waiting for you to see it
and when you do, your eyes nearly fall out in surprise
“yunho!” you exclaim, unable to fathom what you are seeing
because yunho has shot a fucking heart shape made out of bullet holes into the side of an abandoned building
“is this meant to be romantic?!”
contrary to your tone, you don’t think you have ever found your deadly 6’1” sniper boyfriend to be more endearing than now
he preens with the widest smile on his face, “yeah!”
you stand up with a matching smile of your own and step closer to pull him into a hug
“i don’t think i’ll be forgetting about this christmas for a while”
“you better not forget about it ever,” he threatens with a harmless tickle to your side
“thank you,” you tell him sincerely, “i love you”
he peppers your face with kisses, “i love you too”
distantly, you hear the sound of sirens, no doubt the sound of gunshots having been reported
“i guess that’s our cue,” he grins, stepping away from you and slinging the sniper over his shoulder
“our cue to do what?” you allow him to lace his fingers through yours
“our cue to fucking leg it”
and so with his hand warmly encasing yours, laughter bubbling out of your chests and cheeks flushing as the first flakes of snow start to fall, you both make a run for it
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yeosang
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“get some napkins, snacks, cooking oil and maybe a couple of drinks if you can carry it all”
you listen while seonghwa lists off the things you need to get from the shops for the christmas party
it’s nothing huge - just a get together between you, your older brother, hongjoong, and the rest of the ateez gang
yeosang sidles up to you to ask, “ready to go?”
as you smile with a nod and lean into him, hongjoong narrows his eyes from where he’s sitting on a chair
it seems like the two of you have gotten quite…close recently
not that you two weren’t already close before
and granted, hongjoong was the one who raised hell to ensure yeosang followed you everywhere as your bodyguard
except you and yeosang are getting a little too chummy for his liking
but then you’re giving seonghwa a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and you are turning around to look at your brother with that damned smile of yours to ask if he is coming along too, and hongjoong thinks that he’s just looking into things a bit too much
“yeah,” hongjoong gets up from his seat, “let’s go”
once your little trio makes it to the mart, you decide to divide and conquer the items on seonghwa’s shopping list
you’ve just grabbed a packet of napkins when someone suddenly tugs you down one of the aisles
the squeal of surprise that comes out of you quickly turns into an exasperated laugh seeing that it’s just yeosang
he’s looking at you with his sparkling eyes and expectant smile
“you’re hopeless,” you tell him because you know exactly what he wants
“hopelessly in love,” he corrects you, still waiting with an eager expression
you hiss his name and frantically look around to make sure your brother isn’t around before you relent and press a chaste kiss against the corner of his lips
yeosang immediately blushes and tries to hide the smile on his face like he didn’t literally just kidnap you into a shopping aisle demanding for kisses
you always find his bashfulness endearing though, so you rest your hands on his shoulders to balance on your tiptoes and quickly pepper several more kisses over the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose and the sharp of his jawline
“i don’t think santa needs rudolph this year,” you tap his nose affectionately, “you’re much brighter”
as you watch yeosang grow even redder at your statement, you wonder how this is the same man who will move heaven and earth to protect you
“y/n? yeosang?”
hongjoong’s voice is frighteningly close and you’re pretty sure he is just in the next aisle over
grabbing the first thing that you see, you clutch the item and the napkins to your chest and walk out to meet your brother
“there you two are,” hongjoong frowns, “what took you two so long?”
you reach out and touch his elbow in apology, “sorry, joong. i needed help finding the plastic plates”
except hongjoong doesn’t think you two are very sorry at all, because not only did he pay, but the backpack stuffed full with the shopping bags is now on his back
“why am i carrying the backpack,” he complains, looking at you and yeosang already mounted on the latter’s motorbike
yeosang smiles innocently and jerks his head back in your direction, “i’ve already got a cute little backpack”
“well that cute little backpack also happens to be my sister so shouldn’t she sit behind me- hey!”
you press yourself closer against yeosang’s back, both of you breaking out into laughter as he revs his bike and leaves hongjoong behind in the dust
your brother flips the bird at your backs, grumbling colourfully under his breath as he twists the throttle on his own motorbike to catch up to you two
and for someone who prides himself in being an observant mafia boss, it takes hongjoong many, many days to belatedly realise that plastic plates were never even part of the shopping list
yeosang gently takes your helmet from out of your grasp and tames an unruly strand of your hair that has become ruffled as you two walk back inside, bypassing seonghwa hanging a wreath on the front door
the eldest watches you two for a moment, seemingly in thought, before he picks up something else to hang up
that’s how, when hongjoong arrives a few minutes later with the shopping, he runs into seonghwa fixing mistletoe to the doorframe of the kitchen
“mistletoe?” hongjoong questions as he places the bags onto the countertop, “the fuck for?”
seonghwa shrugs vaguely, “the couples”
“the only couple i see is the couple of losers over there”
hongjoong stares pointedly into the living room, where san is starting to wriggle under the weight of the ornaments balancing on the top of his head and shoulders and hanging off his ears and fingers, courtesy of wooyoung who is currently yelling out stay still!
except the ornaments all come tumbling off in a flurry of movement when yunho thunders past them, mingi in tow
“snowball fight!!”’
it’s not snowing heavily but there’s a layer of snow thick enough for all nine of you to stumble outside in glee
and as it turns out, yeosang is very serious about his job as your bodyguard
even during snowball fights
jongho and yunho have formed some sort of alliance, so by an unspoken agreement, pretty much everyone else has teamed up in hopes of defeating the formidable pair
(no one’s entirely sure which side mingi is playing for, but he’s having fun scooping handfuls of snow and dumping them onto people, which is all that matters)
hongjoong is busy fending off wooyoung’s snowballs - another person who has broken the unofficial alliance - so yeosang stays close to you
he alternates between adding fresh ammo to your snowball pile and blocking any snowballs that are thrown around
it doesn’t matter if they’re thrown in your direction or not; if yeosang sees a snowball, then he is ready to keep it far, far away from you
somehow, amidst all the chaos, yunho manages to unearth a whole slab of snow that is still intact
he cackles evilly as he lifts it above his head and hurls it somewhere into the centre of the whole group
now, the deadly snow slab is nowhere even close to landing on you
but again, yeosang takes his job as your bodyguard - and boyfriend - very, very seriously
he makes a dive in your direction to take the hit and the angels up in heaven blow their trumpets in celebration when he knocks you over instead and you two fall into the snow together
he lands on top of you, arms bracing himself as he encases your frame underneath him
you’re a little winded - the breath has been knocked out of you, you want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and also yeosang looks extremely stunning
you can see every single snowflake that has fluttered down and clung onto his long lashes and soft hair, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s looking at you with the most tender eyes
“merry christmas,” he murmurs with a smile, “i love you”
the sounds of snowballs breaking and consequent screeches mute themselves into the background, the crystal petals falling from the sky blurring in slow motion as yeosang dips down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss
one of his hands cradles your face gingerly as you sigh into the kiss, almost as if he is afraid you will melt and seep into the snow
jongho is about to take the opportunity to pelt yeosang’s exposed back with snowballs, but pauses his deadly pitch when he sees that the older is actually a little…preoccupied right now
he realises very quickly that not only have you two caught his attention, but you’ve also managed to grab hongjoong’s attention
said man squints his eyes at who he thinks is yeosang and…you?
you’re both awfully close together in a heap on the ground and hold the fuck up are you two kissing?
right before hongjoong can rub his eyes and take a closer look, a snowball is smashed to smithereens against his face
hacking snow out of his mouth, he searches furiously for the culprit, eyes landing on jongho who is staring right back at him with his hand still pitched forward from throwing the snowball
why jongho looks flustered, hongjoong has no idea
but it’s not like hongjoong can take on the younger anyway so he chooses to ignore the snowball and looks back in your direction
…where you and yeosang are both lying on your backs making snow angels
hongjoong frowns, rationalising that the kiss had just been a glitch in his imagination
because surely he would’ve noticed ages ago if you and yeosang were indeed dating
seeing as the leader shrugs it off and drops to the ground to shovel an enormous snowball with renewed vigour, jongho lets out a sigh of relief
that is
until wooyoung very helpfully points out, “why are yeosang’s lips all glossy”
you and yeosang freeze mid-snow angel
like zombies in a horror film, you and yeosang slowly sit up with unease creeping through your bodies as you both look towards your brother
his back is turned, body eerily still
most of the other members have also frozen, snowballs still clutched in their hands as their knowing pupils waver
then mingi also helpfully tacks on, “it looks like he kissed y/n or something”
at his words, hongjoong’s arms start to move again
he does not turn around yet, simply hums and says, “interesting”
yeosang nudges you with an elbow and theatrically whispers, “if we leg it right now, do you think it will notice”
it starts to stand up from its crouching position
“...i think it will, yeo”
hongjoong finally turns around and you can see that, similar to yunho not too long ago, he is carrying a huge slab of intact snow in his hands
what’s different is that hongjoong is most definitely not smiling
you have a feeling that he is going to be putting a new definition to snowball fight
hongjoong approaches with his snow weapon
“snowballs?” he shakes his head mockingly with a frighteningly blank expression
“after today,” his gaze drops down pointedly towards yeosang’s nether region, “no balls”
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san
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you don’t need to rely on your past experience working in an underground casino for you to know what the odds of your current gamble are
you are a mouse walking into the lion’s den
the last time you were with crescent - the mafia gang you had been brought into and was supposedly your family for almost a decade - you were wrongfully accused as being a traitor and had nearly lost your life
now here you are, walking back into crescent’s base with your own two feet just a mere few weeks later
and yet, you are not afraid
your former gang does not know, but tonight, you are the dealer of this poker game
minsu, crescent’s mob boss, leers at the sight of you entering the small building
they do not have many affiliates, having kept their numbers small over the years, but most of them have gathered together for drinks tonight
you already knew this, though
you have chosen to confront them on christmas for a reason
“ahh, merry christmas, darling,” minsu drawls saccharinely, “has santa answered my wishes for a personal slut?”
his words do not register in your ears when your eyes involuntarily flit over to the back of the room
there’s a face sitting in the corner that haunts you
the day you were labelled a traitor, you had been accompanying your capo to make a trade deal with a relatively new gang
the boss of the gang who is currently sitting in the same room as the rest of crescent, comfortable smirk on his face like he wants to show you that he is where he belongs
you realise now that it was a set-up all along
there was no deal to be made and there was no emerging gang
it was - is - crescent against you
looking back at minsu now, you address him, “why did you betray me”
he pretends to look appalled, one hand perched daintily against his chest as his jaw drops
“we saw the way you were getting closer to choi san of ateez,” he spits out san’s name, “and after you betrayed crescent during the trade, you ran pathetically to his doorstep like a damsel in distress, which only proved our suspicions”
he states it so believably, as if your loyalty wavered and led to your own inevitable downfall
it’s all bullshit though
you and san have never interacted outside of the negotiations your gangs made with each other
without anywhere to go after crescent had backstabbed you, only then had you sought san’s help
“so what are you doing back here, darling?” minsu stands up
he stalks closer towards you with fake pity plastered across his face, “to beg for forgiveness? to beg for us to spare your little boyfriend’s life?”
the flicker of fury inside of you is quickly growing into an inferno at minsu’s mocking tone
but before it starts to consume you, a new voice enters the fray
“i don’t think we’ll be the ones begging by the end of the night”
a figure steps in and you hear the sound of metal buckles scraping against the ground as a limp, bloodied body is also dragged along
the person comes to a stop beside you before they toss the body in their grasp carelessly to one side
the familiar lilt of their teasing reaches you
“hey, sweetheart”
the inferno inside you smothers itself out at their words
“choi san,” minsu snarls, hackles now raised at the unforeseen addition of his presence
the rest of crescent also seem to become restless, shifting on the edge of their seats or making a move to stand up
because they’re not foolish
they know san’s reputation for ruthlessness, particularly when someone has wronged him
and by extension-
more footsteps resound behind you
-the rest of ateez
you may be a mouse walking into the lion’s den
but when you have poachers behind your back, it becomes your den
minsu’s face finally drains of all blood when he realises the deep shit he has landed himself in
and so do several others, it seems
you wince slightly in embarrassment when a handful of his men scramble up from their seats and push past the ateez members surrounding you to run out of the building
for a moment, no one dares to breathe as they watch you and ateez with trepidation
san simply raises a brow as his eyes narrow with disinterest
the sounds of the cowards’ feet striking the pavement once they make it out onto the street are suddenly replaced by the crack of gunshots and the distinct thump of flesh falling to the ground
from somewhere up high, yunho chambers another bullet as he stares down the scope of his sniper with impassivity
“anyone else want to give that a try?” san taunts
no one answers
hongjoong finally emerges from the flanks and almost immediately, the already-frigid atmosphere drops another several degrees
“a gang of members who have no qualms betraying their own will only end up destroying themselves eventually,” he calmly approaches minsu, who shuffles backwards in response
hongjoong continues, “as much as crescent isn’t worth my time, i don’t really feel like waiting for that day to come”
before anyone can react, he swipes a glass bottle from one of the tables and swings it across minsu’s head
the latter stumbles backwards in shock with a hand flying up to stem the blood flow coming from his temple
ateez do not need a further command
all at once, the members jump forward bloodthirsty for vengeance, save for san, who grabs a chair that mingi has quite literally tossed a person off and brings it over for you to sit on
he winks as he quips, “we’ll probably be on santa’s naughty list this year, but maybe if you just watch you’ll get away with it, sweetheart”
san knows you can hold your own in a fight, but he also knows that your ribs are still sore and bruised
so he waits until you sit with a laugh before he turns around to face the others
he doesn’t really care about most of the crescent lackeys
he knows hongjoong and the rest of ateez will wipe them out fine
who he really cares about is that bastard who pretended to lead the fake gang
and that motherfucker minsu
san is going to make them regret hurting you
san is going to make them wish they were never born
he advances towards them with deceptive calmness
minsu is slumped against a table, still licking at his wounds pathetically
he’s only alive because none of the members have bothered with him
san leaves him for the time being and takes out a dagger as he advances upon the nameless member who had duped you
easily evading the man’s frantic punch, san responds by slamming the hilt of his dagger against the other’s temple
the man goes crashing down and minsu tries to scramble away from them in fear
“i would cut your tongue off, since you spew so many fucking lies,” san grips the man’s jaw hard enough that his fingers turn white, “but i don’t want to touch your filthy mouth”
instead, san drags the dagger across the gang member’s throat
blood rapidly gurgles out of the wound as the man’s fingers make futile attempts to grasp san’s hands, but very quickly, he attempts to stem the blood flow instead
but a fence can only hold a dam back for so long
san shoves him aside and lunges for minsu
“your turn,” san smirks
whipping out his pistol, san flicks the safety off and shoots minsu’s hand as the latter lets out a primal shriek of pain
san shoots again, this time at his other hand, once more, through his calf, once more, through his stomach
minsu swears to the high heavens in between wails and howls, begging for san to stop
“what did i say,” san places a foot on his stomach wound and pushes down, “it wouldn’t be me or my sweetheart begging tonight”
minsu’s animalistic cries are silenced with a final gunshot
san exhales and makes his way back to where you are still seated to reassure, “you’ll never have to worry about crescent ever again”
“thank you, san,” you sink into his embrace
you’ll thank the rest of ateez later, but for now, you focus on the man in front of you
“i said that i would protect you, didn’t i, sweetheart?”
he gathers your face in his hands and thumbs the round of your cheeks sweetly
you nod in his grasp, blinking up at him through your eyelashes
“i want to kiss you,” san suddenly confesses, “can i kiss you?”
a teasing smile tugs at your lips, “it’s christmas. shouldn’t you kiss me under a mistletoe?”
san looks up to check, as if he really thinks that a mafia gang’s base would have mistletoe hanging from the ceiling
when he confirms that indeed there is not, his eyes wander around the room for a substitute until something appears to pique his interest
you watch as he unsheathes another dagger from his belt and points it in the direction of minsu’s body
“i can cut his foot off,” san tells you with determination, “then we’d have a minsu-toe”
amidst the last of the fighting amongst the room, someone overhears and chortles at san’s words
“i can’t believe you,” you let out your own laugh
“so…” san beams, “is that a yes?”
“fuck the mistletoe,” you laugh as you pull him forward, “just kiss me already”
and kiss you he does
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mingi
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for the first time ever, you think you hate the snow
even if it’s christmas eve today and it’s the first snowfall of the year
you had been prepared for a peak in business at your little bar, the mist, but with the sudden onset of heavy snowfall and a rapid drop in temperature, you’ve barely had any customers
admittedly, you are used to slow business considering there is a much larger bar, the chilli peppers, just across the street
but not even your few, regular customers have shown up today nor for the past few weeks
you’ve scanned the outside of your bar several times already, each time unfruitful as you are met with an empty street save for the falling snow and soft glow of the streetlamps
sighing, you decide to look out once more before making yourself a mixed drink when you spot a figure walking up to your doors
your breath hitches when you recognise who it is
it’s him
the handsome stranger who, you suppose, is not really a stranger anymore
it has been almost two months since he first took refuge in your bar while being chased by another gang
his visits since have been rare and infrequent, but they will always span late into the early hours of dawn when he does
“hey,” mingi softly greets you as he steps into your bar, a shy smile adorning his face
your stomach flutters as you stand up from your stool, “mingi, hi, hey, i wasn’t expecting you to come today”
you internally cringe at your own words
you hope he doesn’t pick up on the connotation that you wait for him to come on other days
he peers around hesitantly at your words, “should i, uh, go?”
one of your hands reach out in his direction before you even realise what you’re doing
“no- i meant,” you lick your lips, “it’s a nice surprise”
mingi’s shoulders relax
“i heard some areas lost power because of the snow,” he starts to explain, “so i thought i’d come to check on you- your bar”
your heart grows warm at his seemingly nonchalant words
fighting back a blush, you gesture around your bar, “well, i still got power-”
just as it fizzles and dies
the steady hum of the heater in the background of your bar also halts, creating a world of both darkness and silence
startled, you jump slightly
you can hardly see him in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the gloom, yet mingi’s hand naturally finds your searching ones
he slips your smaller hand into his, gently squeezing and rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he soothes, “i’ve got you”
you let out a nervous chuckle, not because you feel awkward but because it feels so natural to be soothed by his touch, and he reciprocates with his own soft laugh
“well,” you look up at him, “looks like business is closed for the night”
his eyebrows knit together in concern, “are you sure? i can call someone to get your power back up and running. i know a person”
he scratches the back of his neck as he continues to ramble, “or they could probably fix your whole area…yeah that’s a better idea, wouldn’t want you getting singled out or anything”
you’re not sure whether to be endeared or to be impressed by his connections
“you can do that?!” you gawk
mingi blinks twice as if to say, you can’t?
laughing, you shake your head and pat his hand that’s still holding yours to tell him that it’s okay
“i wasn’t getting customers anyway,” you reassure
selfishly, mingi is glad that you weren’t busy
because it means that he can have you all to himself
“do you want to stay for a bit?” you offer, “it’s probably not safe to leave with all the snow”
mingi is a member of a mafia gang
snow is the least of his worries
but he nods solemnly in agreement anyway
he thinks that his heart cannot squeeze with any more fondness at your concern until you carefully tug him forward by the hand to lead him up the stairs at the back of your bar, murmuring that there’s another step and the doorway’s a little low
it doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him being pursued by other gang members, or that he smells like gunpowder and has a pistol hidden on him - you still look out for him and mingi has to fight the urge to pull you into a hug
instead, he grips your hand a little tighter under the guise of not knowing where he should be stepping
in reality, he wants to make sure that he can keep you steady should you be the one to trip
usually, when the power cuts out like this, you will simply bury yourself under your covers until you fall asleep
but it seems like it’s a common occurrence now - when mingi is by your side, sleep is easy to forget
so you take him to the small room you’ve leased above your bar and it is as though you have both rediscovered the innocent joys of life
hushed giggles are shared as you rifle through your storage and take turns lighting up the stubborn candles you have found
you nudge him as he nudges you back over where to scatter the candles around the room for maximum brightness, both of you falling into another bout of laughter when a particularly hard nudge ends up snuffing the candles in your hands
mingi takes out his phone and creates a playlist of cheesy christmas songs that he lets run in the background
grabbing your hands, he twirls you around the cramped space of your living room as you flush with joy
you shyly let him lead you through his silly little dances, but very quickly, you are both spinning and jumping and swaying barefoot to the music as the candle flames flicker in tandem all around you
the excitement teeters off slowly as the playlist transitions to slower instrumentals and you realise that without the heating on, your room is starting to become freezing
mingi is first to notice, attuned to the way a quick shiver racks your body
“come here,” he says, arms already moving before he can think better of it
he grabs the blanket that covers the back of your small couch and throws half of it over himself, one arm extending the rest of it so that he can wrap it around your form too
mingi slowly rubs his hands up and down the sides of your arms as he shuffles the two of you over to sink down onto the couch
you have to remind yourself to keep breathing, even as his every touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps and electricity
“better?” he asks after a while
untrusting of your voice, you nod instead whilst clearing your throat, trying not to chase the feeling of his embrace when he retracts his arms from around you
silence falls upon you two
it’s not uncomfortable
but with the lack of noise to distract you, you are acutely aware of his close proximity and the warmth that he emits from your side
“it’s pretty, isn’t it,” he muses, gaze focused on the falling snow outside the window
“it is…”
…with you here
“you know what they say about the first snowfall of the year?” he nudges you softly
you chew on your bottom lip
shyly, you offer, “that if you confess your love it becomes true,” at the exact same time mingi says-
“that you shouldn’t eat the snow for the first hour or two”
you quickly cough and splutter out a question to cover up your statement, “h-how come?”
“the snow absorbs all the bad stuff in the air when it first falls”
the grin on his face makes you think that he may have heard your answer after all
slightly embarrassed, you avert your gaze and fumble for something to say
mingi saves you though
he points at the clock that has just ticked past midnight
“merry christmas, y/n,” he says tenderly
“merry christmas, mingi”
you relish in the moment, not wanting this night to end
“did you have anything you wanted for christmas?” you ask him
he hums in affirmation, slowly mulling over his next words before he answers, “there was someone i wanted to see”
he’s looking ahead, and from where you’re sitting next to him, shoulders brushing with each slight movement, the warm glow of the candles accentuates the sharp slopes of his side profile
you’ve noted this before, but in this moment mingi is beautiful
“did…did you get to see them?” you’re unsure why you’re holding your breath in anticipation
he doesn’t answer straight away
there’s a beat of silence
then he’s slowly turning his head with a gentle smile
“yeah,” he breathes out, looking at you with his soft, round eyes, “yeah, i did”
with your rosy cheeks and bashful expression, mingi cannot help himself
he confesses
“and i still am”
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wooyoung
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wooyoung very naturally reaches across the counter with the barcode scanner so that he can align the laser with your id badge
he hums happily as your employee discount is applied to the bag of chips he is purchasing
at this point, you don’t even bat an eye
he has long made himself at home in your convenience store whenever you work the night shift
“so,” wooyoung says as he finishes ringing up the price, “why are you working on christmas eve?”
you tilt your head, confused
“why shouldn’t i be working on christmas eve? and why aren’t you working? don’t you need to manage all your lackeys at the boxing rings?”
“no? because it’s christmas eve? everyone takes the week off,” he frowns as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world
you didn’t realise the mafia celebrated christmas too
apparently you say that out loud, because he is suddenly crossing his arms
…a little too defensively for you to take him seriously
“i didn’t know you were the mafia police,” he grumbles, “you gonna pull out a handbook and tell me that section 3.2 bans christmas for the mafia?”
you chuckle as you attempt to appease the childlike fire in his eyes, “sorry, you guys just seem like-”
you think better of your words and pause
“seem like what?”
“nothing”
“what? tell me what you were going to say!”
he pounces on you, attempting to bite your forearm as you squeal and relent
“you guys seem like the type to beat santa up, not celebrate his existence”
he stares at you
you stare at him
“you have three seconds to run,” he tells you
and run you do
filled with glee, you dash out from behind the counter and weave through the narrow aisles in a circle, wooyoung hot on your heels with his own matching shrieks
you both collapse in a fit of uncontrollable laughter when he suddenly switches direction and you end up running straight into his arms
sitting on the dirty floor of your convenience store during the quiet hours of night, your eyes teary from how hard you and wooyoung are laughing, you do not think there is a better way to spend your christmas eve
“i get paid almost double for working today,” you explain when you have both settled back behind the counter, sharing the bag of snacks he paid for earlier
you toss a chip in the air for wooyoung to catch as you continue, “plus, i can’t just take holidays when i want to”
it bounces off his forehead and he fumbles to catch it before it hits the ground
“why not?”
“because my boss won’t let me”
“oh. that’s it?”
“tHaT’s iT? shut the fuck up,” you shove a chip into his mouth as he sniggers
he excuses himself to make a quick call, so you take the opportunity to finish off the remainder of the snacks
hah.
this time, when he walks back in and sees the empty packet, he does bite you
and he makes you buy him another bag as compensation
(honestly, he should be buying you snacks because if you’re honest, you’re pretty sure he has enough money to buy your store and the whole chain)
you’re sharing the second bag of chips - read as: wooyoung being petty and hogging the snacks - when the store is suddenly plunged into dimness for a split second
you look up, blinking as you watch the lights flicker once, twice, and then completely die out with a fizzle
there’s still enough light coming from the frozen section as the standby generator kicks in for you to make out the inside of the store and wooyoung’s raised eyebrow
then the door chimes, alerting you to the arrival of customers
…or not-customers, you suppose
honestly, you should really be used to this by now
two men saunter in with shoulders squared like they own the place
you take one look at their balaclavas and the pistols in their hands and deduce that, “they wouldn’t happen to be some of your friends, right?”
wooyoung steps a little closer to whisper back, “nope”
“well, fuck. you going to do something about them or what?”
“are you kidding me? they’ve got guns”
“you’re part of the mafia. you’re telling me you don’t have one on you?”
he has the fucking nerve to flirt with you as he flexes his arms
“the only guns i got are these bad boys”
the men point their guns threateningly and wooyoung has the common sense to pipe down, both of you raising your hands cautiously
“get in the car,” one of them snarls
wooyoung moves after a split moment of hesitation, arms still raised as he walks towards the door
he looks back at you to see if you are following along, as if you two are taking a walk in the park and not being kidnapped at literal gunpoint
you’re going to roundhouse kick his head off once you make it out of this alive
his stupid gang better be real good at finding people
the kidnappers usher you and wooyoung into the back of a car, a very nice one you must say
it’s spacious and well-cushioned
at least the trip to whatever warehouse or abandoned building they take you to will be a comfy one
the door locks click and you hit the headrest behind you when the driver steps on the accelerator
“jesus christ! can you drive any faster?” wooyoung yells
you jerk your head sideways to look at him in horror
what is he thinking, provoking the armed men like that?
the man in the passenger seat must also share the same thought, because he whips his head around dangerously fast to stare at wooyoung
oh shit shit shit-
he raises a hand
he’s going to shoot wooyoung-
and pulls off his mask
“that’s not what you were saying when you called us 15 minutes ago, wooyoung”
“san?!” you screech in recognition
“hi again, darling,” san greets you with a sweet, dimpled smile, as if everything is okay
the driver also takes off their mask and he looks at you through the rearview mirror as he introduces himself, “hi, i’m mingi!”
you are absolutely incredulous
“you staged a whole fucking kidnapping for fun?”
wooyoung looks overjoyed, “so you can enjoy christmas eve!”
you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation
“you do realise the police are going to interrogate me, right?”
“don’t worry. jongho has connections with the police,” san reassures you
“what about the security footage?”
“hongjoong jammed the feed so there’s none,” mingi pipes up
“my boss is going to find out when he comes to check the morning shift”
“nah,” wooyoung waves away your concern this time, “he’ll be out of commission for a solid week or so”
now that catches your attention
sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes and ask very calmly, “what did you guys do to my boss?”
wooyoung lets out a weak chuckle as he presses himself a little closer to the car door; a little further away from you
“yeosang may have, uh, knocked him out”
at your silence, he scrambles to redeem the situation, tugging at the end of your shirt for forgiveness, “we made sure to give your boss a pillow for his neck while he’s out cold!”
“you’re insufferable,” you tell him, starting to feel exhilarated from the whole situation
“just for you,” wooyoung puckers his lips teasingly
you sigh to conceal the smile that is starting to creep onto your face, but you are weak for him and he knows, so you don’t pull away when he laces his fingers through your hand
“merry christmas eve,” he beams at you
there’s the faint sound of someone gagging
wooyoung’s adoring gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as he kicks the back of san’s chair hard
you laugh, truly happy and free, “you know i’m still going to get fired for this, right?”
there’s silence
“well,” wooyoung contemplates
and for a split second, you think he is going to offer you a solution for the mess he made
but then again, what did you expect from wooyoung
“does this mean we get to spend christmas together then?”
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jongho
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jongho has one hand in the pocket of his slacks
his stance is relaxed, even as his other hand aims the gun at the police officers in front of him
they cower despite the abundance of money piled on the table before them and the stars and service strips that decorate their uniforms
after all, what use is dirty money and corrupt power in the face of death?
pathetic
their pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears
several gunshots ring out, followed by the thud of bodies dropping to the ground
elsewhere, you notice that it’s nearly time for you to clock out
it’s christmas eve and you are not spending a minute longer than you need to here in this hellhole
double checking that your badge is somewhere in your bag, you make a move to leave the police station when there is a sudden influx of noise
pagers beep, phones ring, voices shout
your ears perk up to catch the conversation and you hear the same few names leaving the lips of the police officers around you
the blood coursing through your veins freezes
because you know these names
these names have been burned into your brain, only recently, but still to the point where you can see them clearly whenever you close your eyes
they’re all officials in positions of high power, spending their days in air-conditioned offices and not actually doing anything apart from accepting bribes
but the thing that truly links them together - the secret that quite possibly, of the people in the station right now, only you’ve discovered through your connections - is that they are all involved in covering up the death of an officer five years ago
your father’s death
jongho and his gang have made sure that your father’s murderer has paid the price with his own life-
“all killed?!” you hear the police of chief gush with disbelief
-as have the corrupt officers who buried your father’s case, so it seems
a sense of calm settles over you
the clock tells you that it’s now three minutes past the end of your shift
the news is not a bad note to end on before your two-day christmas break
you sling your bag over your shoulder while the rest of the officers continue to speculate with nervous energy
the police force had no qualms turning their back on you years ago, so neither do you on them
you leave
when you make your way home, back to the modest apartment you now share with jongho, you are greeted by the smell of a cooking meal and the warmth of the blasting heater
you enter the open kitchen whilst removing your scarf
jongho is there in his suit, his coat slung over the back of a chair, tossing an assortment of diced vegetables into a pot of boiling soup
his sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows and you feel your throat go a little dry when the muscles along his forearm flex as he holds up the chopping board
you notice there are streaks of dried blood across his sleeves
and you would be concerned about the blood if this weren’t such a common occurrence
you know now that it’s never his own
when he notices your quiet presence, jongho turns to look at you the same way he always does whenever you come home from work
like he can never quite believe that you’re here with him after so many years apart
he greets you, smiling with anticipation, “did you like my christmas present?”
your mind flashes back to the frenzied panic at the station just earlier
“that was you?” 
the smirk you receive is more than enough of an answer to your question
“you didn’t have to, jongho,” but despite your words, you walk over appreciatively into his outstretched arms
“of course i did,” he shushes you with a deep kiss as his arms wrap around you tightly. “nobody messes with my girl”
his words send a hot rush right through your body
the corner of his lips quirks as he feels you squirm a little in his hold
“cop or not,” he nudges your head to the side so he has easy access to nip at your throat, “you’re mine to protect”
you fist the front of his shirt in an attempt to hold back a needy whine, instead, letting out a shaky breath that does little to hide how affected you are
in a last-ditch effort to take control of the situation, you take a step back and reach into the side pocket of your uniform to pull out your handcuffs
“too bad this cop is going to arrest you for murder,” you joke
jongho cannot help but smile at the cocky facade you put on when your cheeks are so clearly flushed
he brings his wrists together in front of him and offers his hands to you
“are you going to frisk me too, officer?”
when you swallow, now silent, jongho continues, “i might be armed with something that could…destroy you”
a shiver of excitement runs through you and it doesn’t go unnoticed
he steps forward to close the gap between you both, one hand reaching for the handcuffs hanging loosely from your grasp
jongho pauses when his fingers touch the cool metal, waiting for you to look at him properly
you see his eyes darting between your own as he searches for any signs of discomfort or hesitation
can i?
you let go of the handcuffs so that they are in his hold alone
yes
his gaze turns predatory almost immediately
“my turn,” he rasps lowly
he flips you around so that you face the kitchen counter, grabbing your arms and holding them behind you
you are pliant under his touch, but you cannot deny that it turns you on when he is a little rougher with you
jongho cuffs your wrists together and he waits as you tug on them experimentally
you feel the flutter of his fingertips dancing around where the metal surrounds your wrists
“is this okay?” he asks, voice gentle again
you reassure him, “yeah, more than okay,” before you emphasise your words by grinding your ass back against him
he tuts with a chuckle as he stands steady behind you, allowing you to use his rapidly-hardening cock for stimulation while his hands rest on your waist
it’s not enough though
“touch me, please,” you breathe out
“please, who?” he teases, hands sliding up and down your sides but never adding any pressure
your thighs clench because you know exactly what he wants
“please, officer,” you beg
“see, that wasn’t so hard,” jongho whispers right into your ear
the buttons on your uniform blouse are suddenly undone and in one swift motion, he yanks your bra down to expose your breasts
his fingers find your nipples easily, familiar with every inch of your body, and you let out a gasp of pleasure when he pinches them
he pins your hips against the countertop with his own, clothed bulge pressing firmly into you
your cuffed hands scrabble to find purchase when he nudges your legs open with his thigh
but then all of a sudden, his heated touches and wandering hands disappear
the whine you let out at the loss of his presence is almost pathetic as you twist your head around to look for him
“give me a second, baby, i just need to,” he steps over to the bubbling pot of soup and twists the knob down on the stove, “adjust the fire”
you bend forward onto the countertop, exposing the wet patch that you are sure has started to show on the crotch of your pants
“jongho,” you start to beg again, “i want to cum”
“i know, baby, but i don’t want to burn our house down and i want to make sure i get to feed you dinner,” he strides back to you in two quick steps
“now that that’s sorted,” he turns your body around so that you’re facing him, “i think it’s time for my appetiser”
he swiftly tugs your pants and panties down, kneeling to tap on your ankles lightly, a silent request for you to step out of your clothes
he tosses them to one side before his hands come back up to grip either of your thighs so that he can spread your legs
you brace your cuffed hands against the edge of the countertop behind you
it’s not the most comfortable position to be in, but then jongho is using his fingers to spread your pussy apart and your ability to form any coherent thought leaves your body
he blows lightly on your clit, enjoying the way you flinch at the sensation
“look at you,” he drags a fingertip at an agonisingly slow pace through your folds, “already so wet when i’ve barely even touched you”
he holds you still when you try to grind down on his finger
“use your words, baby,” he grins up at you with a smug expression
“i need y-”
he cuts your words right off by attaching his lips to your clit, drawing out a strangled cry of pleasure from you
you feel the long-awaited stretch of your pussy as jongho foregoes one finger and plunges two digits straight into your hole
“fuck!” the curse slips out of you when he sucks and licks your clit in time with the thrusts of his fingers scissoring in and out of you
he curls a finger and your knees very nearly buckle from under you, your back arching as jongho groans against your pussy and continues to abuse the sensitive spot he has found
a pressure starts to build in your core
“i’m close,” you manage to choke out
you miss the moment jongho briefly removes his lips to glance to his side, replacing his mouth with a thumb to rub harsh circles against your clit, before he tells you, “not yet, baby”
“i can’t, jongho, please, let me cum,” you plead
“wait, hang in there a little longer. i know you can,” yet despite his words, he shoves his fingers up harder with renewed vigour
you almost sob from desperation, “wait for fucking what?! your dick isn’t even in me!”
“just a little longer, baby,” he reassures you as your thighs shake around him
you can’t do it anymore
you have to cum
you have to-
“cum,” he simply says, before reattaching his mouth to your clit
your orgasm rips through you and you cannot do anything but tremble and shudder under the administrations of his tongue and fingers
jongho holds you through it all, milking out your orgasm until its very last waves-
just as the timer on the stove goes off
“what the fuck?” you blurt out
your mind is still hazy from pleasure but you’re pretty fucking sure he just timed your orgasm with the stove
jongho licks his fingers with a brazen smile and then goes over to peer into his pot of soup
after he gives it a final stir, he turns the fire off completely and places a lid on the top to keep it warm
you watch, rendered speechless
except when he turns back around, you stay silent for a completely different reason
he eyes you hungrily as he strips his tie and unbuttons his dress shirt
“round two, baby”
he grabs your cuffed hands and guides you towards your shared bedroom, then fishes out the keys from your blouse
you welcome the feeling of jongho unlocking your handcuffs for a moment of rest
settling against the head of the bed, you watch as jongho fully sheds his shirt and lets it drop to the ground
he unzips his slacks and his cock springs free, the bulbous head a tantalising pink as he easily strokes himself to full erection
your pussy clenches desperately around nothing in anticipation and jongho watches your own arousal leak out
he gathers your wrists together once more and pins them above you, handcuffing you to the headboard as you completely submit to him
jongho leans over you and encases your smaller frame with his muscular build
his voice is low and teasing
“you have the right to remain silent,” he says as he aligns his girthy length with your entrance, “but i doubt you will”
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#one day hongjoong's will be pure fluff and you'll be left thirstin#switching it up 😌☝️#we've got joong san jongho now#WDYM THE MAFIA DON'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF CHRISTMAS AND GO ON A CRIME RAMPAGE ???#WHEN I TELL YOU I LAUGHED SO HARD AT THE INFLATABLE SANTA TAG#PLEASE#the image of him ricocheting off and landing on top like those vids of people bouncing off the boxing ring ropes onto their opponents#HAS ME HOWLING#AND SO DOES THE CERTIFIED ORPHAN#BECAUSE THAT WAS HONESTLY ME IF MY MUM EVER CAME HOME LATE BY LIKE FIVE MINUTES#yun stop shooting bullets and come shoot your shot#i'm waiting 💅#yeo really is just domestic fluffy scarves fluffy mittens fluffy blankets coded#idk i kinda imagined their party to be at someone's apartment so /very technically/ their base has no mistletoe#only broken christmas trees and cookies thanks to joong#OMG I'M SO HAPPY YOU REMEMBERED CCG#didn't use that reference bc i didn't know if many people would have read / remembered the original and the part 2#it's crazy to think how attached we are to a fictional leather coat 🤪#just taking delulu to another levelulu#NAH MAN YOU BEST BET WOO AIN'T MAKING YOU WORK#you gonna be his princess#and you're gonna have to fight him to let you work#JONGHO SMUT JONGHO SMUT JONGHO SMUT INDEED#this is the most amount of tags in a reblog i've ever received#i couldn't even fit it into one screenshot#but this brought me so much joy and laughter#like THANK YOU THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart <333#laura 🦭
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lacelinedcorpse · 12 days ago
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Thinking about.....
Simon riley, not ghost, never ghost with you. Riley who lets you color in his tattoos, watching with amusement when you rehydrate old purple markers with saliva just to dry them out again against his chapped and weathered arms. The same gruff old man who complains about his tinnitus and creaking bones running about and fretting over grocery prices with you. Simon who scorns you for trying to get him to indulge in your most recent attempt at crochet, only to end up skillfully looping balls of yarn into cat scarves to sooth the bitter lump in your mind after one to many single row attempts. Your silly riley who jump starts you mornings with cold toes on warm skin burning you with sensation but soothing your mind with affection.
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silverfoxstole · 9 months ago
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Paul presenting One Man and His Scarves, also known as The Petrol Age, Episode One (2012).
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nonranghaes · 6 days ago
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"my love? we need to talk."
minghao's standing in your kitchen when you call out to him, making himself a cup of tea. one of his mugs sits securely in your cupboard among others like it, a box of tea sitting on the countertop next to him. he keeps telling himself he'll get you all the proper things so that he can make himself (and you) other blends, but he hasn't gotten around to it quite yet. he glances up just once to see you coming, dressed cozily in mismatched sweats after a long day at work.
and, for a moment, he's worried. "did i do something wrong?" he pauses for a moment, glancing down at the mug in front of him. "... would you like a cup?"
you shake your head, leaning against the countertop. "my closet's getting emptier."
he furrows his brow. "hm?"
with a knowing smile, you reach out, tugging at the collar of the sweatshirt he's wearing. it matches your sweatpants perfectly, now that he's actually thinking about it. "and i think i know where my clothes are ending up, because your drawer stopped being just a drawer months ago."
minghao happens to glance around your apartment for a moment, suddenly aware of the little things. his mugs in your cupboard were only the start of it. he sees the little herb garden he has set up for you in a window, his neat handwriting standing out on the tape he stuck to the spray bottle you use to water them. two of his longer coats have found home on your coat rack alongside several of his scarves, which is now suspiciously bare of the other jacket you used to wear. one of his cardigans is still draped over a chair. there's wine glasses on the drying rack, a bottle sitting on the counter nearby from when he brought over a bottle he thought you'd love. the blanket on the back of the couch that fits your apartment more than it did his own, the fact he has several pairs of shoes here now...
"feels like you're nesting here, my pretty bird," you say with this amused glimmer in your eyes. "and i think... maybe you should start packing up your old place."
he doesn't answer you. he knows what you're asking, but minghao's not the man who will always let you get away with hiding the big questions like this. he just teases you instead, smiling, "is that a threat? should i be worried about mingyu?"
you just roll your eyes, taking a step toward him so that you can kiss him. "move in with me already," you say when you break away. "you practically already have."
and you're right. but he won't say it out loud: he just kisses you, hands cupping your face. "i thought you'd never ask."
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bumblesimagines · 27 days ago
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For Life
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Request: Yes or No
Summary: The Wolverine was unmatched in the fighting ring, until a new face arrived and turned his life upside down.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
CW/TW: Typical X-Men Warnings, lots of blood mentions, violence/fighting, both fluff and angst, Logan being as whipped as he was for Jean with (Y/N), age gap cause Logan is super fucking old lmao, more so snippets/a concept over a full fledged fic.
divider by cafekitsune!
~~~
Wolverines generally avoid humans in the wild but are known to be particularly aggressive and even dangerous when cornered or provoked, prompting them to put those sharp canines and claws to work. Wolverines are known for their incredible strength and stamina, but mostly for their infamous ferocity. Despite their reputation as ill-tempered loners, wolverines are known to be social with others and will form lifelong relationships with their mates.
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It'd been a cold evening in Laughlin City and most of the bar's patrons had shuffled into the establishment with their faces nearly hidden behind hoods and scarves as they scrambled to get out of the snow and chilling winds. The occasional gust of wind blowing in whenever the door opened left patrons simultaneously groaning in complaint but the heater emitting warm air kept their grumbling and huffing to a minimum. The nipping cold had soured many moods, and Logan could see many men itching to forget about the cold with an adrenaline-pumping fight. He was just eager to make an easy buck.
He braced an arm against one of the cage's support beams and watched with a hint of a smirk as his latest opponent staggered out of the cage, his buddies narrowly catching him before he could plummet onto the hardwood floor and further batter his face. The locals eyed him with a certain disdain, certain suspicion, but he put up good enough entertainment for them to tolerate him. He sniffed, hardly phased by the punches he'd taken during the fight, and nodded to the referee. 
"Does anyone else dare-" 
"I'll have a go." 
Logan immediately craned his head to eye the voice's owner, foreign and new to Laughlin City. He'd been participating in cage fights long enough to begin memorizing the locals, and the fresh face staring back at him was an utter stranger. Passing by Laughlin City, Logan assumed, but he lacked the particular smell of gas, car air freshener, and look of exhaustion to be a trucker like most of the patrons taking up seats around them. He observed him, taking in every inch of his new opponent as he rounded the cage. He seemed young, but then again, so did Logan. 
"Name's (Y/N)." He said, staring Logan in the eyes as he shed his jacket and shirt. Someone nearby took both articles of clothing for him, likely eager to see what he'd do, or how he'd go down. Logan had managed to break two noses and chip a few teeth already, one could only wonder what he'd do next. "Nice to meet you, Wolverine."
Logan simply grunted and pushed himself off the support beam, rolling his neck and curling his fingers into tight fists. (Y/N) grinned at him, almost arrogantly, but not with the usual cockiness of a man who thought himself the toughest guy in Alberta. He appeared... too calm for Logan's liking, but once the referee stepped out of the cage and closed the door, he decided to focus on beating his face in instead. 
They circled each other first, eyes raking over the other from head to toe in search of a weakness to exploit, of a twitch that'd give away their next move. Logan could hear the muttering of the crowd, the impatient tap of fingers and boots, and the intensity in their stares. His eyes flickered away briefly, and he immediately cursed his mistake when (Y/N) lunged. Despite a part of him urging him to dodge or block, he remained still, expecting (Y/N)'s knuckles to break upon impact but instead, his fist connected effectively with Logan's jaw and he nearly stumbled onto the floor.
Managing to catch himself as scattered gasps echoed from the crowd, Logan grazed his fingers over his aching jaw and raised his head to look at the man. Mutant. No human had ever taken a swing at him without immediately spraining or breaking something, let alone been able to make his head turn with a punch. The corner of his lips twitched up into a smirk and the crowd erupted into cheers, primarily egging (Y/N) on to beat him to a pulp; Logan wanted to see him try.
The ache in his jaw faded swiftly, just in time for Logan to take a swing at (Y/N) and see how much he could tank. (Y/N) dodged his quick swings efficiently, taking steps back each time before he caught Logan's forearm and swiftly spun, his back pressing to Logan's chest before Logan was promptly hauled over his body. He collided with the floor, the cage trembling as if an earthquake had struck, and Logan doubted it'd be able to take the weight of his body a second time without damage. (Y/N) flashed another little grin down at him but instead of taking advantage of his momentary shock, he took a step back and allowed him to get up. 
A professionally trained mutant, Logan deduced when he got to his feet, intriguing. And worrisome. He hardly needed a group of mutants on his ass begging him to join them. 
"You ready to give up your title of champion, big guy?" (Y/N) questioned with a hint of a mocking coo, his words rowdying up the same crowd who'd turn on him if they learned of his mutant abilities, although Logan guessed they likely already suspected and merely wanted to see him hurt for a change. Challenging in his tone but his eyes studied Logan with a degree of curiosity he typically never saw in others.
"We're just gettin' started, bud."
"Even better."
Everything afterward felt like a whirlwind of punching, kicking, dodging, and blocking; Logan's favorite sort of dance, and one that'd hopefully end with some cash in his pocket and a well-deserved cigar. He managed to maneuver (Y/N) around, his arm coiling around his neck to put him in a headlock most wouldn't survive. (Y/N) pressed back against him, forcing them to stumble backward until Logan's back collided with the cage's wall that miraculously managed to stay put without giving out on them both. Logan released a guttural groan when (Y/N)'s short blunt nails dug into his skin, leaving bright red marks behind with specks of blood that only made him tighten his hold.
"Anything goes, right?" (Y/N) wheezed, his palm pressing against Logan's arm, a chill shooting down Logan's spine when it slowly moved on its own and gave him enough space to catch his breath without the pressure on his throat. 
"The hell-"
Straightening his knees and tossing his head back into Logan's face, Logan cursed and released him fully to bring a hand to his nose. He covered it, waiting for it to heal without catching the eye of the people around but (Y/N) gave him no time to recover. He spun on his heel and took another swing at him, bringing his knee up into Logan's stomach when he doubled over and then slamming the bottom of his boot into the side of his face. His head slammed against a support beam and he groaned, the aches and pains healing rapidly but before he could stand up, he realized his body refused to follow his wishes. 
"Giving up yet, big guy?" (Y/N) asked with a tilt of his head, eyes glinting with newfound warning. "We'll be here all night at this rate."
Logan swallowed, a hint of panic surging forward at his inability to move and the mystery surrounding the powers being used against him. Some sort of mental ability, he guessed, but whatever it was he disliked it tenfold. Logan grinded his teeth in frustration and begrudgingly nodded. "Fine," He grunted and sighed in relief when (Y/N) released whatever hold he had on him, allowing his body to relax and slump.
While, yes, losing a fight was a bruise to his pride, Logan found himself more intrigued by the fellow mutant, if not more cautious. With the sky darkening outside, Logan retreated from the cage to collect his belongings and ordered some beer while he watched (Y/N) at the other end of the bar. Once the bartender placed the beer down, he scooped it up in his hand and rounded the bar toward him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the men who clapped (Y/N) on the shoulder as if he'd done everyone a service. He waited, though, for everyone to be out of earshot. 
"How'd you do it?" Logan questioned quietly, chugging back some beer and smacking his lips as it flowed down his throat. (Y/N) fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, sparing him an amused glance and an arched brow. "The whole- the whole body thing. What is it? Some sort of telekinesis?"
"How about you walk me to my motel and I'll tell you all about it?" (Y/N) grinned again, eyes crinkling despite the way they'd been going at each other moments prior, and he turned toward the exit with a beckoning nod. Reaching into his pocket, Logan jingled the keys to his old, busted RV and watched his grin widen.
Out in the cold night, semi-trucks passed them by on the icy roads beside the snow-tipped bar. (Y/N) tugged his hoodie over his head, keeping it on when he sat in the passenger seat and relished the light heat that filled the RV once Logan turned it on. Logan glanced at him, eyeing his light attire once more but keeping his questions to himself despite curiosity knawing at him insistently. He kept his eyes on the road, careful to avoid going at a speed that'd have them sliding into the forest around them. 
"It's not telekinesis." (Y/N) muttered, reaching out and fiddling with the radio dials until he found a decent station. "I.. I controlled your blood. It's not as, uh, clean and pretty as telepathy or telekinesis but it's pretty useful in most cases. I can sense when someone's sick, too, or even help with cuts and infections. I'd make a pretty decent surgeon, honestly." He gave a small chuckle.
Logan snorted, though some unease settled in the pit of his stomach. "Yeah? How'd you figure out you had it?" Logan glanced at him again and immediately noticed the way his features fell. 
"It's not a pretty story." He sighed softly, his head tilting to watch the trees and snow pass them by in a mixed blur. "Let's just say, some of my blood got out of my body and I panicked.. and it started levitating... anyways, enough about me, big guy. What's your thing? It can't just be that super-healing thing, right?" 
Pursing his lips, Logan clutched the wheel with one hand and curled the other one into a fist. From the corner of his eye, he watched his claws slide out and then swallowed when (Y/N)'s features brightened. Gentle fingers wrapped around his hand and Logan retracted the claws, an unfamiliar feeling swirling in his stomach as he felt (Y/N) run his fingertips over his skin, tracing his knuckles and then the veins along the back of his hand. It'd been a while since he last left a gentle touch, and a quiet part in the back of his mind almost considered him unworthy of it. 
"My name's Logan." He grunted softly, the typical tension he always carried fading with each delicate caress.
"Well, Logan," (Y/N) lifted his head with a cheeky smile on his face, his thumb pressing into one of the veins and drawing Logan's eyes toward him. "You mind keeping me company tonight? Or do you have someone you have to get back to?"
"No," Logan's lips tugged upward. "I've got time." 
The motel was as rundown as Logan expected, dimly lit hallways occasionally plunging into darkness when the light flickered above them, and the curiosity surged forward again, prodding him to question where the mutant had come from or why he'd chosen Laughlin City of all places to stay in. But (Y/N) gave him no time to dwell further on it, the back of his foot kicking the door shut behind them before his hands grasped the collar of Logan's coat and pulled him in. 
There was a dangerous addictiveness and allure to (Y/N), from the way he effortlessly danced the line between sweet and rough: a kiss full of tongues and teeth and nips but smoothed over by gentle fingers massaging the muscle of his biceps when Logan slid his coat off, only for those same fingers to slip through his brown strands and tug. It triggered something within Logan, a growl emitting from his throat as broad hands grasped at the other's hips and drew a breathless laugh from (Y/N). 
As much as he enjoyed considering himself a lone wolf, the brief connection with others during one-night stands always reminded him he was still partly human, even when others considered him a savage brute. He savored it, savored when he had (Y/N) on his lap, his chest rising and falling with heaves and lips parted to release low grunts and groans. He savored the feeling of (Y/N)'s arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely, his breath fanning against his ear and allowing Logan to hear every noise he exhaled. He savored the ability to dig his fingers into soft flesh without worry, or sink his teeth into (Y/N)'s collarbone and feel the mark heal beneath his lips. He mostly savored the addictive warmth encircling him and the pleasure that made his thighs tremble. 
His arms tightened around (Y/N), pressing him close to his chest, and captured his lips to swallow another whine. For the first time in who knows how long, he found himself hoping he'd see more of (Y/N) around. 
But after a few days, the mutant disappeared from Alberta, and a week later Logan took a girl by the name of Rogue under his wing. 
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"You may see another familiar face here." 
Logan turned his attention away from the mutant children, trying to ignore the way his heart warmed at the sight of them living happy lives without the threat of danger from those who despised them for simply existing. He searched the outer yard for any sign of Marie, but he assumed she was likely still getting acclimated to her new home at the school, and finally peered down at Charles questioningly. Charles smiled knowingly and motioned off to the side. 
"While I prefer having (Y/N) here for his safety, he enjoys venturing out to help others. I hear you two became acquainted while he was away." Charles spoke, and without thinking twice, Logan's head snapped in the direction he'd pointed in, his heart leaping into his throat at the sight of (Y/N) walking toward him with that godforsaken grin that'd plagued Logan's thoughts and dreams for weeks. "(Y/N) has called this school home for many years, and he often helps with the more severe injuries. I'll allow you two a moment to... catch up." 
(Y/N) nodded to Charles as they walked past each other before stopping in front of Logan and crossing his arms over his chest, his head tilting playfully to the side and eyes drinking him in. "It's nice seeing you again, Logan." He stepped closer, eyes lifting to meet his once more. "Here I was thinking about taking a drive back to Alberta. Guess you must've read my mind." 
"Pretty sure that's Charles's thing," Logan replied, pressing this thumb into (Y/N)'s chin and curling the rest of his fingers under it. He had to, otherwise he would've convinced himself he was imagining things, that the mutant who'd managed to make him laugh and smile was still miles away someplace else. "What were you doin' in Alberta?"
"I heard rumors and whispers about a man down in Laughlin City and thought I'd see what all the fuss was about. I would've asked you to come back with me but.. that didn't seem like the type of pillow talk you'd appreciate." He explained softly, leaning into Logan's touch and closing his eyes briefly when Logan pressed his palm fully against his cheek, still caught in the fleeting worry he'd wake up and find himself on the side of the icy road with Marie nowhere in sight. "You're here now, though." His eyes opened. "Are you staying?" 
"I don't-"
"Oh, come on," (Y/N) scoffed lightly, warmly, and moved in even closer. "It's nice here, Logan. I can finish showing you around and we'll find something for you to do. The food's good, the rooms are nice, and it's... freshening to hear the laughter of kids finally being happy. You'd make a helluva teacher, I bet. Everyone's favorite." His genuine tone shifted into a teasing one, laughing softly when Logan rolled his eyes. 
Lifting his brows, Logan smirked and brought him close, itching to close the distance despite a heated voice in his head telling him he didn't deserve the warmth and acceptance. "We can start and end the tour in the dorms-"
"Only if you promise to stay." (Y/N) cooed, tilting his head away to dodge a kiss but he allowed himself to be tugged into an embrace. His arms curled around Logan's shoulders, lips drawing back into a wide smile before he planted a kiss on the corner of Logan's lips. "If you stay, we can finish what we started... and see where it goes." 
Logan leaned back, his brows twitching down into a furrow but (Y/N)'s grip around his shoulders tightened, forcing him to stay and not flee from his words. He swallowed, conflicted in the way his brain and heart battled. Half of him screamed at him to leave, to go before he could mess everything up but another part desperately clung to the idea of staying and finally having a place to call home, finally having a person to call home. 
He noted the flicker of uncertainty in (Y/N)'s features following his silence, felt him beginning to draw back from the embrace. Logan secured his arms around him and allowed a ghost of a smile to slip. "Yeah," He murmured, weakly at first. "I'd like that."
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Truthfully, Logan hadn't been fully listening to what Scott- or well, what Cyclops had spoken about in the briefing about their latest mission. He'd heard the usual 'group of anti-mutants' and promptly tuned out afterward in favor of soaking in how (Y/N) looked in the dark suit, though noted somewhat glumly how it didn't allow him to wear the engagement ring. His staring hadn't gone unnoticed given the amused glances Jean stole and the exasperated exhale from Cyclops before they were dropped near the location of the warehouse. 
"Good luck, Lo." (Y/N) whispered to him, planting a kiss on his cheek and dragging his fingers over Logan's beard with a mischievous glint in his pretty (E/C) eyes.
They'd separated pretty soon after, splitting up to cover more ground given the amount of people working with the group. It hadn't taken long at all for the fighting to begin, and despite Cyclops pushing for them to use as little force as possible, Logan couldn't help bruising and cutting a few people up. He managed to knock out a gunman when he heard the distinctive clap of thunder. Amusement had him cracking a grin followed by pity toward whichever fool dared face against Storm, but then he heard her shriek:
"(Y/N)!" 
Too high-pitched, loud, and full of horror for Logan to brush aside as a warning call. His footsteps thundered throughout the halls as he moved, shoving and swinging his claws at anyone who stood in his way until he stumbled upon the sight, eyes immediately finding (Y/N) on his knees with Storm beside him. Logan beelined toward them, dropping into a crouch and promptly feeling a wave of nausea pass over him at the sight of (Y/N) blood-stained hands grasping desperately at his throat. 
"They-" Storm swallowed thickly, her chest rising and falling with panic. "They shot him. He- He can't heal with the bullet-" 
"Darlin'," Logan exhaled shakily, pulling him swiftly into his arms and attempting to keep his composure despite the wheezy exhales and gurgles filling his ears. Blood spread across his throat, blobs of it levitating only to lose their perfectly round form and fall onto the floor with splatters each time (Y/N) grimaced. "I know it hurts but you have to focus on gettin' the bullet out. Baby, hey, focus."
(Y/N) stared up at him, wide eyes filling with tears and shoulders shaking with his hiccups and trembles. The red tint of blood on his lips filled Logan with a familiar sense of dread, his arms holding him tighter so (Y/N) wouldn't feel him trembling as well. He watched the blood oozing out of the wound rise, oddly shaped and raised while he worked on shoving the lodged bullet out of his throat before he choked to death on the very thing he could control. He wheezed and coughed occasionally, droplets of blood flinging onto Logan's cheek and coloring his beard but he paid it no mind.
Storm fiddled with her earpiece, stuttering out explanations to Jean and Cyclops and urging them to move quicker. Logan thumbed away the tears that slipped down his (S/C) skin, forcing himself to give encouraging nods and smiles despite the hurricane threatening to break within his chest.
(Y/N) tilted his chin up toward him and Logan swooped in eagerly, kissing him despite the blood that danced on his tongue afterward. He heard the familiar clatter of metal falling onto the floor and leaned back, eyes flickering around frantically until he spotted the bloody bullet rolling around beside them. 
"Hey, hey, you did it. You-"
Storm exhaled shakily. "Logan."
Logan's head snapped back toward (Y/N)'s face, first noticing the dullness in his eyes and then the way blood continued freely oozing from the wound. He stared at him, his mind struggling to comprehend the limpness in (Y/N)'s body and the stillness of his chest, the world around him slowly coming to a standstill. Storm's sniffling cries and the frantic questions from Jean and Cyclops as they finally arrived became distant, unable to focus on anything but (Y/N). 
"Hey..." Logan exhaled, cupping his cheek as his brows furrowed into a tight-knit. "Hey, hey, hey, you- you can't do this." He furiously blinked away the tears that glazed over his vision, rubbing his thumb into (Y/N)'s cheek and waiting for him to nuzzle into his touch as he always did, but it never came. "You can't do this. You can't-" Logan cradled his body against his chest, burying his face into his collarbone as he'd done dozens of times before. (Y/N) remained unresponsive, his arms falling limply at his sides from Logan's movements. 
"You can't do this to me. You promised you'd never leave."
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sweetiecutie · 1 year ago
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Warnings: NSFW, mdni, fem! reader, smut, blowjob, fingering, proofread but I’m dyslexic so may be mistakes
Omg omg omg imagine being König’s little passengers princess🩷🩷
König is undeniably a big man, so he obviously needs a big car. I think he owns a SUV - pretty and, most importantly, spacious car. It allows him to slouch comfortably in driver’s seat and not sit all crouched down like in most cars, his knees don’t bump in the panel beneath the steering wheel but placed comfortably as they should.
Needless to say that his car is filled with your stuff: numerous lipglosses in the glove compartment, your scarves and shawls laying on the panel behind backseats, small pillow along with fluffy blanket are always in the backseat in case you feel tired and want to lay down. König even found some of your jewelry in the cup holder once!
And he’s such a gentleman! You’re simply not allowed to open the door by yourself! Why would you do that, if you have him?! König will always hold the door open for you, helping you get in and out of the seat, making sure that your dress or coat won’t get stuck clasped by the car door. He’s such a sweetheart, I can’t🥺
You often go for rides together. König is a neat and careful driver - he got his license when he was 18 and since then only got one fine for parking in wrong place. You go to different places - locations with beautiful landscapes not far from your place, going to visit his relatives in another city or just night rides around the Vienna. A lot of dear moments between you two happened in his car - your first kiss, numerous deep talks and countless make out sessions in the backseat which ended up with König absolutely fucking your brains out.
But sometimes long car rides can be hard for you. A few hours on the way, you start feeling uncomfortable. Your booty starts feeling sore from long sitting, lower back aching from awkward angle, feet swelling from lack of muscle movements. And you start whining. About how you’re tired, how sore your whole body is, that you need to use a restroom or that you’re hungry. König coos at your pouting face, glancing at you apologetically, right hand coming to your thigh to rub soothing circles on your soft skin to make you feel slightest bit better, promising to pull off at the next gas station.
König would do anything to soothe his whiny little princess. And if it means getting under her skirt in a middle of the ride and stuffing her pretty pussy full with his fingers - he’ll gladly do it. He’s never said that, but König loves loves loves fingering you while driving. Yes, it distracts him from the road, but the cute little sounds you make while your legs close around his wrist in overstimulation as he mercilessly keeps pumping two fingers in and out of that drooling cunny, thumb pressing tight circles against that needy clit.
During especially long rides, when you’re bored out of your mind and music on the radio makes you feel sick, you find a better way of busying yourself.
One of your nimble hands comes to rest on König’s meaty thing, rubbing strong muscle affectionately. He doesn’t pay much attention to that since you do it all the time, only smiling softly to himself at your touch. Slowly you make your way higher and higher, getting dangerously close to man’s crotch. “Y/n, I’m driving” König would always say in a strict voice, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead. “Yeah, but it’s a highway, you just need to go straight” you discard his complains lightheartedly, already undoing the button and zipper of his jeans.
Soon your mouth is filled up with his throbbing cock, drool running down thick shaft to his balls and you suck and lick on sensitive length, paying extra attention to his leaking tip. König groans and moans above you, thrusting his hips up occasionally, making you choke and gag on his huge dick, tears running down your flushed cheeks. He rests one hand on the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down at the pace that he likes and holding you in place when he shoots a thick load of his cum down your throat so you swallow every single drop of it. And make sure to clean him up with that filthy little mouth after that, he’s driving, after all!
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers feedback, we live for that<3
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feyascorner · 10 months ago
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Astarion is such a girl dad nobody can tell me otherwise.
Would he be a responsible parent? Maybe. It depends on which act we’re looking at. He’d give her a doll and then a pretty knife for her birthday. But gods if he doesn’t absolutely wreak havoc with a little version of himself…
You would walk in on him having a tea party with his daughter, makeup messily smeared on his face and parts of his hair tied with pink rubber bands. He looks ridiculous crouched on a tiny chair, but he takes this tea party very seriously. Your daughter does too, it seems, as they chat about some imaginary society of stuffed animals and gossip about which stuffy was rude to another.
He’d also let her play dentist on his fangs, lying on the sofa while feigning a toothache so his daughter can “treat” him with random tools around the house. If you weren’t terrified she might accidentally cut herself on how sharp his teeth are, you’d think it’s adorable.
And when I say this man dresses her, I am not over exaggerating. He teaches her early on how to do basic sewing and adjustments to her clothes, but he’s also loves to buy her little frilly bows and such that he knows she’ll like. Dresses, scarves, gloves, you name it. He loves putting on a show, so why should his own daughter walk around in dreadfully boring clothing?
On one of the occasions you join in on their tea parties, he steps out of the room for a few minutes to grab something. When he returns, your daughter is fast sleep in your lap, and you smile down softly at her. The sight makes his chest swell.
“I think she has your nose, darling,” he says as he sits down beside you.
“Has your sass, though. I caught her staring at herself in the mirror the other day too.”
He snorts and you finally lift your head to look at him. His eyes flit back and forth between you and your daughter, his features gentle. “Do you blame her? Who wouldn’t want to take after all this?”
You stifle a laugh, careful to keep from waking her. Brushing the hair out of your face, he plants his lips to your forehead while soft snores come from down at your lap.
“I fear I’ll mess up with her,” he whispers against your cheek.
You shake your head, leaning it against his shoulder. “You won’t.”
Somehow, he feels himself trusting your words. He’s always found it easy to do so when it came to you.
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withleeknow · 11 months ago
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forgetful.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; minho is lowkey the biggest simp wbk, unedited ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ word count: 0.9k note: first fic of 2024! don't look at me tho, at this point i just keep writing the most self-indulgent shit lol
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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minho is the type to - 15 seconds after he meets you for your weekly date night - ask you where your gloves are when he sees your reddened and shivering hands. there was a greeting kiss preceding the question, of course.
"i think we both know what the answer is," you tell him, trying to rub your hands together for warmth until he takes them and presses your cold fingers against his cheeks, before he kisses your palms.
"what’s the point of getting matching gloves if you keep forgetting yours?" he says, a light scolding tone in his voice that matches the slight frown tugging on his brows.
"it's not my fault!" you try to defend yourself. you'd raise your hands for emphasis, but he's still keeping them near his face, alternating between kisses and blowing into them to get you all nice and toasty. "i keep them by the door on purpose so i wouldn't forget to take them with me when i go out. you have to at least give me a little credit for that. i just... never actually remember to bring them."
he rolls his eyes, an act that most would find patronizing especially if minho is the one who's doing it. but when it comes to you, everything minho does is full of affection, even as he pretends to be annoyed.
"what am i going to do with you?" he mutters like a disappointed parent.
"it was your idea to get the gloves. i didn't really need them though. i have you."
"but i'm not with you all the time, baby. you need to keep yourself warm."
"well, you're here with me, aren't you? you can keep me warm now. i'll worry about cold hands later."
squishing his cheeks together, you pull him toward you for a swift peck.
despite his exasperated sigh, minho still presses his lips against each of your palms one last time, even turns them over to kiss your knuckles, before he settles on intertwining his left hand with your right one, stuffing them in his coat pocket as he pulls the both of you toward the direction of your dinner reservation.
"wait!" you exclaim, holding up your neglected hand, "what about this one? it's cold too."
he turns to look at you, his face devoid of all emotions as he assesses your so-called dilemma. then, minho lets go of you, telling you to put both your hands in your own pockets.
"come onnn," you lament, pouting at the man in front of you.
"you come on," he retorts. "just do it."
you huff childishly, watching as the breath comes out in a puff of smoke in the cold air, thinking minho is really letting you fend for warmth by yourself for the remaining 10 minutes that it takes to walk to the restaurant.
it's not like you meant to forget the gloves at home.
before you can resume walking, minho moves to stand behind you, pulling you to him, eliciting a surprised oof! from you. he shoves his hands into your pockets, intertwining your fingers once again within the confines of the fabric as he shuffles you forward, his legs on either side of yours so it's easier for you to walk. the thick coats and wool scarves that you're both wearing already make you look like a pair of clumsy bears roaming the street, but with your back pressed against his front like this, you have no doubt that by-passers must be thinking you're two cotton balls waddling in the middle of the city.
"minho!" you laugh, partially embarrassed that people are side-eyeing this strange public display of affection. "stop!"
"you wanted me to keep you warm, didn't you?"
"people are staring!"
"you said you were cold." he seems unfazed though, continuing to nudge you forward like it's the most normal thing in the world. "make up your mind."
"i take it back!"
you do your best to plant your feet firmly on the ground to keep him from moving. it works though, or at least it staggers him enough for you to wriggle out of his hold. you take a few steps away from minho, and he looks at you with unimpressed eyes.
"i take it back," you repeat. "we're only a couple blocks away. i think i'll manage."
he stares at you for a moment longer, before he reaches into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves, identical to the matching ones that you two picked out together a few weeks ago.
"how do you have my gloves?"
"these aren't the ones at your place," he clarifies. "this is your backup pair. i went back to the store and got them because i know you never remember to take shit with you."
you don't even try to suppress the grin that tugs on your lips when he walks closer to you, taking your hands and attentively covers your skin with the wool. "so you just... keep them with you at all times now?" you ask.
"pretty much, yeah."
once he's made sure that gloves are hugging your fingers snugly, you pull him down for a kiss, your lips moving together warmly. you feel him smile against you even though he's trying to look stern.
"you love me sooo much," you simper when you break from the kiss.
minho sighs, a long one as if to say yes, unfortunately i do love you very much.
"now come on." this time he does speak aloud. "let's go before they give away our table."
because that's just the kind of person minho is. because no matter how grumpy he may appear from the outside, he's still the type to always think of you and your wellbeing and show up for you even when you don't show up for yourself. no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 01.01.2024]
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atrwriting · 3 months ago
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I cannot shake the thought of Logan (any era) just being infatuated with a bimbo reader! Wearing pink or light colors all the time. Short and cute little outfits that definitely get him riled up even when they don’t mean to. Basically just Logan fucking them dumb like the little bimbo they are🤭 (SORRY NOT SORRY)
anon ur onto something with this one hunni 🤌🤌
———
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pretty in pink:
everyone thought that logan would only like people like a school teacher or jean — but that wasn’t always the case, no. logan’s real type? the type of girl that pushed every bad thought, memory, or nightmare from his brain? the type of girl that forced logan to remember that there were some good parts of lie? the type of girl that reminded him what it was like to be a fucking man?
a fucking angel of a woman.
oh, god — you were something. you were it for him. you had the type of innocent, doe-eyed expression that caused him to choke for a second — get the hiccups for the first time in decades. you looked soft — so soft, almost too soft for him.
he’d come to your bakery every now and then — not wanting to draw too much attention. you only wore light and bright colors, the kind that he never reached for when he had a choice. you were like bubble gum to him — sweet and light, ready for him and only him.
he didn’t want to be weird, no — he couldn’t. what if he lost you? his never ending days were growing longer, and longer and he needed something to hold onto — even if it was just a cup of black coffee and a muffin two (and if he was greedy) or three times a week.
“can’t i interest you in something else, sir?” you giggled, pausing while you rung his order. “you’re the consistent type, don’t want to fix somethin’ that ain’ broke — but i bet i could find you something you like.”
he let his lips give the faintest smile, but inside he was fucking screaming. the slight southern twang in your voice was enough for him to want to fork over his entire wallet to you. you had your pretty pastel scarves wrapped around his ankles and wrists and, ugh — would he give anything to bite into like the peach you were.
“i trust you, darlin — whatever you think i’ll like,” he rasped, trying to keep his cool.
when he saw your eyes sparkle, and a natural blush mix with the kind you brushed on — he knew he had you. even if it wasn’t as needy as the thing inside him — oh, he knew he had you.
he started coming around more and more after that — sometimes at night, right before close. hoping for the chance to take you out after. he noticed everything about you after the day he called you “darlin’” — the way your eyes raked up and down him when you first noticed him, the way your hips would sway a little bit extra in those tiny flowy skirts, and the new shade of light pink that was always on those perfect, supple lips.
oh, fuck — he was down bad for you. so bad.
it wouldn’t be for another month or two when the soft skin of your palm slipped between his fingers and pulled him into your office, under the guise of wanting to “show him around.” he could’ve tutted at the pick up line — but he didn’t care. how could he when you plopped yourself on top of your desk, and spread your knees ever so slightly?
you couldn’t help but stare as you watched the big, bad logan walk toward you with his hands in his pockets. there was a hunger in his eyes, one for more than just sweet treats. you giggled at the sight and folded your bottom lip into your mouth — tasting the subtle hint of strawberry that you hoped logan liked.
“been feeding me the best for months now, doll — you’re gonna let me thank you?”
his hands ran up and down the soft skin of your thighs, wanting oh so badly to travel underneath the thin and short skirt. you could feel the want from him, the need — because you knew it was the same as yours.
there was no time wasted when you slipped off those pretty pink panties and sling-shotted them at him. his eyes darkened when he caught them, stuffing them into his back pocket. he captured your lips in a kiss that made you arch your back into him — clinging to him for support. he couldn’t help but grab onto your perfect hips and roll them against his as the juices from your pussy leaked onto the rough denim of his jeans. you whined into his ear at the feeling, keening into his touch.
“that’s it, doll,” he spoke, thrusting two fingers past your folds. “i’ll take care of ya.”
he pushed your foreheads together, and your eyes drifted closed as your mouth hung open. he watched with an intense gaze at how those petal pink lips fell open for him — just for him. he kissed you hard, drinking in every whimper that was just for him.
he would’ve thrown your body down onto the desk and fucked you well into the night — but you wouldn’t let him, no. you were his good girl, and you wanted to please him oh so bad. you made him sit you both down on your desk chair, you bouncing on top of of his iron thighs. he made you take everything off then — your bra, panties, the world — except for those pretty pink socks and head band. your curls bounced on your shoulders, curling around the peaks of your nipples — and logan pawed at them hungrily.
your mind was frosting at this point — soft, creamy, ready to mold however he wanted you. you felt his hands roam up and down the soft skin of your abdomen, stopping to pinch at your breasts as they bounced for him, and just for him.
“that’s it, doll,” he grunted. “show me you can make a mess for me, yeah? be my good girl — that’s right —“
oh, you were — you so were. the smell and taste of him drove you mad — wanting nothing more than to have him stuff you full of his cum and have you both watch it leak out.
“please, lo —“ you whined, your back arching more as you caught the sweetest angle. “‘m so close for you —“
“fuck, that’s my girl —“ he wrapped his arms around you then, thrusting up inside your pussy. “too much for you, baby, huh? couldn’t take it?”
it sent you over the edge — causing you to fall forward and catch yourself with your hands on his shoulders. you rolled down onto his cock as the walls of your pussy tightened, tightened, and tightened. little gasps left your lips, but logan only heard them as cries — cries for him.
“yeah —“ his voice was gruff now, long and drawn out. primal even, only wanting to encourage you to let go. his hands were pulling at the flesh of your ass now, slapping at the sensitive girl. “keep cumming for me, doll. show me you can make a mess.”
“fucking god, lo —“ there were tears at your eyes now, mixing with the black of your mascara.
the sight before logan? his pretty in pink doll that liked to cook for him, crying for him because she felt so good? nothing better in the world. absolutely nothing. his balls tightened at the sight, forcing his hips up into your pussy. his lips wrapped around the tip of your nipple — sucking on it greedily as you rode out your orgasm, shivering against him. he came with another thrust, holding you down onto his cock.
“there’s my pretty girl,” he whispered, voice cracking as a bliss formed in his eyes. “so, so good for me.”
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eeee sorry if it sucks love u <3333 -L
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