#the BANG after the first 'i let it all go' like the thud of a body against cold pavement? the swell of screeching strings afterwards? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hiiikiko · 3 months ago

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𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇

[1: spider-man’s more awkward than i thought..”]

spiderman!ellie x reader | tlou m.list

synopsis: ellie is in your biology class, she’s the quiet teachers assistant, who also happens to double as your agency’s part time photographer, but you notice that lately she’s been acting strange..

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You never really noticed her before, to you, she was just the nerdy TA and your agency’s assistant photographer but right now, you needed her to be your saviour. You were failing your biology class, a side effect of how many modelling gigs you’ve picked up to pay your tuition but what good was paying your tuition if you couldn’t even pass your classes? That’s how you ended up practically begging Ellie to tutor you.

“God, please, Williams,” you sighed, taking her hand in yours, “I’ll do anything! I’ll even pay you or I could speak to the agency—.”

“I-it’s fine, Y/l/n, I can do it,” she pried her hand out of yours and nodded, “Just put in a good word with your boss, yeah?”

You practically jump when she says that, “Oh thank you, thank you so much! Um, do you have my number?”

Ellie bashfully nods, “Uh, yeah, I have all the model’s numbers..”

You nod, “Okay, cool! Let’s meet at my place tonight, yeah? Maybe around 6? I’ll send you the location and the door code.”

Ellie straightens up, “Uhh.. can’t do six.. can we do it earlier? Maybe 4..?”

She looks a little nervous about asking, her eyebrows are furrowed and she’s staring into your eyes, anxiously waiting for your response, “Oh.. yeah that’s cool!”

With that, you go your separate ways.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

At your apartment, you prep it for your visitor, shoving your clothes into your laundry hamper, putting out some snacks, straightening up your ‘living room,’ it wasn’t really a living room, given that you lived in a small studio apartment, it was really just a corner of your apartment with a couch, rug, and coffee table. Come on, it was New York and you’re a college student! This is as good as it’ll get for now.

Just as you’re folding a blanket, you hear a thud against the glass door leading out to your balcony. Just as you’re about to take a step towards it to inspect it.. ding dong! You jump a bit, forgetting all about the peculiar sound and making your way towards your front door. Peaking through the peephole, you see Ellie, she’s awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck, camera bag resting on her shoulder and her bangs messily in her face.

“Hey,” you smile and open the door to let her in, “Uh, make yourself at home.”

“T-thanks,” she nods, taking off her shoes and putting her bag down, “Nice place you got.. very, uh, homey. Oh, you a fan of Spider-man?” She nods at the Spider-Man poster on your wall and the Spider-Man t-shirt you’re wearing.

You giggle at her attempt at making small talk, “Thanks, can I get you anything? Water.. soda.. tea..? And, yeah, I know it’s kinda ‘fan girly’ of me but he’s just so fuckin’ cool, y’know? ”

“I’ll take a water,” she sits down on your couch, she looks really tired, not sleepy tired but she looks like she just fought Captain America.

“Shall we get started,” you place the glass in front of her and sit on the floor, the fluffy rug underneath aiding as a cushion, she nods and the two of you get to work.

The first few tutoring sessions went just like that, they were stiff and awkward but eventually, you realized that Ellis isn’t just a nerd that occasionally takes your pictures, she’s also really funny and is actually a really good teacher, she’s patient but doesn’t treat you like you’re dumb. She talks you through the formulas and makes sure you understand each chapter by quizzing you. She’s actually not awkward about this after all, she seems confident when she’s talking about cells. Watching her is nice, her eyes light up when she gets to a chapter that she is obviously interested in and a small smile falters on her lips. You never really realized it before but not only is she really smart, she’s also REALLY hot. Like, the way her veiny arms l flex when she reaches over for her glass of water, the veins flexing under her tattoo, the way she gazes at you through her eyelashes, and her smirk when she gently teases you for getting a problem wrong.

On one particular tutoring session, the rain pattered heavy against the thin glass on your balcony doors, creating a serene, almost cozy atmosphere. You and Ellie were sitting close together on the floor, a thick textbook resting on the coffee table in front of you, you could feel her breath against your neck and her voice was deep and raspy, almost like she’d been out in the rain earlier, and—

“Hey, you with me?” Ellie waves a hand in front of your face, “Hm, maybe we should stop here for now, yeah? It’s getting la— shit, it’s 7?!”

Your expression fell at the thought of her leaving, so you thought ‘fuck it’ as you decided to try and get her to ‘sleep over.’

Ellie scrambled to get on her feet, grabbing her bag and putting her battered converse on, “Oh, you’re leaving? But it’s pouring out there, wanna spend the night?” You graze her arm with your hand, you know it’s wrong to wanna sleep with your TA and your coworker but.. it had been so long since you got any.. and shit, how could you stop yourself now? You could feel her lean muscles underneath her baggy jacket.. you had no idea she even worked out.

Ellie’s eyes flicker to your hand, almost like she was considering it, “S-sorry.. I really gotta go, see ya Friday, yeah?”

And before you could say anything else to try and convince her to stay, she was out the door and you could hear her footsteps echoing down the stairwell.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“The nerve that girl has!” You throw your hands up, “She didn’t even consider it.. I mean, look at me! An up and coming model offers you the night of her life, you say yes!”

Your friends nod in agreement, “I just don—.” Just as you’re about to make another comment, you see Ellie come into the lecture hall, a band-aid on her eyebrow, ouch. What in the world could have happened between 7 p.m. and this morning?

Your friends turn to see what’s got your tongue, then one of them speaks up, “Haven’t you heard? She is always getting weird scratches.. a guy in my last class said that she tends to get in a lot of fights, crazy, right?”

Ellie gets into fights? You scoff at the idea, no way, she’s the most gentle person you know, you can barely feel her touch when she adjusts your hair during shoots, besides she’s way too awkward, you can imagine her trying to talk herself out of a beating, no way. Right?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

During that night’s tutoring session, you ask her about the bandaid, “Oh,” her hand darts to her forehead, “This? I, uh, got it when I fell off my skateboard..”

Convincing enough, right? But the tone in which she said it betrayed her statement, damn, she was a shitty liar.

“Hm,” you hum, still not completely convinced.

Ellie’s eyes rest on yours for a moment before going back to this week’s chapter. Usually, you could focus pretty well but right now all you wanted was to ask her more about the cut, right as you’re about to bug her again, she interrupts you with a question of her own. “Hey, uh, are you booked for that shoot on Sunday?”

You can tell she’s trying her best to act as nonchalant as possible but the way she’s nervously tapping her pencil against the textbook, the way her teeth gently bite her soft pink lips, and the way her eyes look like a deer caught in headlights betray her rather calm tone.

“Yeah, didn’t Regina tell you? She booked me a few weeks ago, something about how they want a ‘fresh young face’ or whatever,” you on the other hand, have mastered the art of being nonchalant, your voice calm and your eyes never leaving the paper of your textbook.

“R-really?” Ellie looks like a puppy who’s owner just shook a bag of treats before forgetting she’s supposed to be feign the whole ‘mysterious loner’ shtick, “I mean, uh, cool, cool. I’m gonna be there too, so, uh.. yeah.”

“Mhm,” the rest of the night carries on like nothing happened, Ellie continues teaching and you continue ‘listening,’ which was a little hard because your eyes kept drifting to her eyebrows again.

There’s something about her that you just don’t get.. if those rumours are true, which you highly doubt because look at her, she’s smiling while talking about RNA… be so for real right now, there’s no way BUT if it is true, why is she so gentle? Sure, she’s clumsy but her personality, she’s not hostile, hell, she blushes whenever you graze her hand. You know how the rumour mill works and it doesn’t just churn out baseless rumours, most have some kind of truth to them, so, how did someone make one about Ellie being so violent, you wonder.

“Uh, Y/n?” Ellie’s eyes move towards the balcony doors, “Can you, uh, please stop staring? You’re making me nervous..”

Your face erupts in a blush, the sweet red colour creeping up your neck, coating your ears, and finally, sweeping over your face, “S-sorry, just spaced out.. haven’t been getting much sleep, you know?”

Ellie nods, “Yeah.. I get it.. neighbours arguing a lot ‘nd stuff, right?”

You nod before realizing, “I never told you that.”

Ellie lets out a forced chuckle, “Uh, you did! Well, you didn’t tell me directly, just heard you say it… God, please believe me, I’m not stalking you, I just heard you say in passing, I swe—. Um. I should go, it’s getting late..”

“Huh, it’s only 6..?” You stand up with her, hoping she doesn’t leave so soon.

“Sorry, but I really should—?”

You grab onto her bulky jacket, tugging on the sleeve a bit, causing it to slip down her shoulder a bit and reveal her shirt underneath, huh, it looked like…

“Hey,” she blurts out and straightens out her jacket, “Wh—?”

“Oh my god, is that a spider-man tshirt?” You jump up, a smile creeping onto your face.

Ellie is washed with relief, “Uh, yeah! Gotta love the, uh, the guy, right?”

Nodding you say, “Totally! You should’ve said something sooner, I’m like his biggest fan, I even have an, allegedly, signed poster of him!”

Ellie’s ears burn bright, “R-really? Can I see it?”

You scramble to your room and pull out a small signed flyer, “See?”

Ellie gently holds it then she snorts and mutters, “Yeah, that’s not real.”

Your expression falters, “Wh-what? As if you’d know,” you pull it from her grip, your pride hurt and internally kicking yourself for spending so much on what could be a damn knock off.

“Oh, I think I’d know a thing or two about ‘Spider-Man’,” she chuckles.

“What does that mean,” you shoot her a glare.

“Oh, nothing.. I just, uh, met him” Ellie is scrambling for any way to cover up her loud mouth.

“No way, really?!” You jump up.

“Y-yeah, a few times actually.. back in my first year of college, he let me take some pictures of him a few times for the paper.”

You squeal and begin to bombard her with questions, “What was he like? Is he tall? How does he sound? Wh—?”

Ellie is patient with you and answers all of your questions, stretching she takes a look at the clock and jumps up, “Fuck, I really should get going, it’s rainy and the parade is tomorrow and that means more cr —.”

“More, what?”

“Uh, more cramped subways!” (Ellie is internally patting herself on the back for coming up with a word that begins with ‘cr’ instead of saying criminals.)

“Oh, alright.. see ya.”

Ellie is out the door quicker than you could say ‘your friendly neighborhood spider-man.’

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s the day of the parade and everyone’s spirits are high. Today, everyone is celebrating the election of the new city mayor. There will be a parade, drone show, and a market. Even you’re excited. You and your friends are making your way through the crowded streets when you bump into Abby, your ex. She must be here for her family, Abby’s family was widely renowned. Her dad isn’t just a highly esteemed surgeon, he’s also CEO of Oscorp and has very close ties to the city officials. You don’t really want any drama, so you pass by without giving as much as a nod.

“Hey, Y/n,” you hear through the crowds, a groan leaving your lips before looking up and meeting green eyes instead of blue ones.

“Ellie! What’re you doing here? I thought you would hate this kinda stuff.’

She holds up her camera, “Just takin’ photos, the Daily Bugle needs some front page stuff and they assigned it to me.”

“Oh, very cool,” you smile, “S—,” Just as you’re about to ask her if she wants to check out the stands with you, you feel a hand grip your shoulder, it’s Abby, fuck.

“Hey, Y/n, long time, huh? Wanna come see my dad, he’s been asking about you, oh, so has Manny.” Before you could reject her, Ellie is already walking away and Abby is steering you to the city hall building.

Abby drones on and on about her latest lacrosse victories and about her latest conquests, you just nod and try to space out. Normally, you wouldn’t go with her but you so desperately wanted to meet with her father. Being in premed meant you need as many connections as possible, so you were hoping Mr. Anderson could give you some pointers.

As the two of you round a corner you feel a rumble then hear a boom.

“What the fuck was that,” Abby stops and runs up the stairs, your feet are frozen in place but you quickly pull them from their cemented state and chase after her, “Abby, stop! It’s too dang—!”

Then came the second boom and suddenly, you felt the ground beneath you crumbling, fuck, this is it, isn’t it? Just as you’re about to accept your fate, you feel hands grip your waist and you’re flying..?

Through the dust, you can make out a red and blue silhouette. “I-it’s you!’

The masked figure looks at you, “Yeah.. i-it’s me.”

Uh, Spider-Man is a lot more awkward than you thought..

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callsign-songbird · 10 months ago

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This was supposed to be a short rambling and ended up turning into a mini fic lol. I know the tense shifts, I know it's sloppy lol

Anyway, Simon has a sweetheart who gets kidnapped and gets to meet "Ghost" for the first time.

The first time you meet Ghost, it's supposed to be carefully planned and controlled. After all, Simon was so worried about opening that part of himself up to you. To you, he was Simon. Soft, introverted, sweet, desperately trying to break a cycle of generational trauma. You had never met Ghost.

But, of course, nothing in Simon's life can go according to plan, and when you have people that mean something to you, they become weaknesses. So, when you get kidnapped by a Russian military company with the intel that you were important to Task Force-141? Ghost has already burnt down the world once, you're sure as hell that he would do it again for his love. So, when you meet Ghost, it isn't carefully rehersed and planned like Simon wanted. No.

Instead, you're terrified, bound, and gagged on a cold concrete floor wearing little more than your skivvies as tears stream down your face. Then, out of the blue, gunfire and shouting rings through the halls. Stealth be damned, as soon as their cover is blown, you know that Ghost will fight like a rabbit animal. He barges into your cell, tackling a man against the wall with a knife to his throat and a gun at his head.

Those eyes that had looked at you so softly and tenderly were completely unrecognizable when they were this wide and intense, wild with bloodlust. "Where is the girl?" He spits out in fluent Russian before his eyes catch sight of you.

'BANG'

A single bullet through the soldiers' skull, splattering Ghost with even more viscera and gray matter. Ghost doesn't even seem phased as he holsters his pistol and pulls away, letting the body drop with a sickening thud. He walks brazenly up to you, but pauses as he notices the way you frantically back yourself into the corner, trying desperately to stay away from this monster who had surely come to drag you from one hell to the next.

Then, he crouches down and outstretches a gentle hand to you, letting you come to him. He called your name so sweetly, and that was a voice you recognized. You tried to muffle out his name through the rag shoved into your mouth and tied around your head. That earned a low chuckle, a dangerous one that you hadn't heard before. "Not quite, love. Ghost. Now, let's get you home, eh?"

Ghost. The name echoed in your mind, bouncing around as you tried to remember where you had heard it before. Your eyes flicked over to the corpse splayed in the doorway of your cell, making you nearly vomit in your mouth before looking away. Ghost shifted closer, using the knife still in his hand to cut through the rough ropes binding you. "Bloody hell... idiots didn't even use chains, could have escaped right easy, you could of." Ghost muttered, mostly to himself. The words were terrifying to hear.

He reached to untie your gag next, a chuckle rumbling lowly in his chest as you flinch away. He gives you half a second to compose yourself before he unceremoniously rips the gag off of you and tosses it to the side. Red marks are etched into your cheeks where the gag had dug in, and the sight makes Ghost seeth. "Oh, love..." His words are soft, but his tone is enraged, as if those marks alone could start his new crusade.

"LT!" Blue eyes and a neatly groomed Warhawk pop into the door, stepping casually over the corpse as the new face made his way over to you. "This her, LT?" A thick Scottish accent was present, along with a bit of thinly veiled appreciation. "Off limits Johnny, this is her. This is my girl."

Whenever Simon called you his, it was soft and reverent, as if astonished that he could call someone so precious his. But when Ghost said it? It was commanding, possessive, and left no room for argument. You were his. And that thought was almost scary.

Ghost wasted no more time, scooping you up into his arms and making their way quickly through the facility you had only caught glances of while Ghost and Johnny talked in some military jargon you didn't understand.

That's when you noticed it.

Even though Ghost was holding you so tight and close, even though his touches seemed so rough and careless, even though he was splattered with all sorts of blood and viscera, you had none of it on you. Ghost had been so careful with his touches, with how he held you, determined not to stain and taint your delicate skin with the fuel to his fire, the essence of his soul. And that was quite possibly when you realized that 'Simon' and 'Ghost' were merely two sides of the same coin. And they were both yours as much as you were theirs. his.

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bleachification · 1 year ago

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⸻ JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY

pairing: sanji x reader

word count: 5.7k

synopsis: life as a pirate is never boring, especially when your best friend is sanji—a flirtatious chef who can’t seem to sort out his feelings, or yours, for that matter. that makes things all the more complicated when you’re forced to go undercover and sanji is dragged along with you as your very fake husband. the million-dollar question is: when lines start blurring, how do you differentiate between what’s fake and what’s real?

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +

“We broke up.”

“How long? Two months?”

You shrug. “I stopped counting anniversaries after the first couple of failed ones.”

Sanji swings his knife a tad too forcefully. The loud THUD of it smashing into the cutting board causes you to jump. You peer over the counter and grimace at the sight.

“God, what did that poor tuna ever do to you?”

Sanji continues slicing into the red flesh, more aggressively than before, but still with the same care and precision that he affords every ingredient he touches.

“Why?”

“Why what?” You lift your gaze to his face, smiling softly at the concentration twisting his features. It’s one of the things you admire greatly about Sanji—the sheer dedication and love he has for his craft.

“Why did you break up with him?” Sanji repeats. He’s chopping up a variety of garnish now. Again, with more aggression than necessary.

You raise a brow, but decide not to comment on it.

“What makes you think I was the one who called it quits?”

He sets the knife down and turns to you, blonde bangs falling across his face. Sanji flashes you his signature flirtatious smile, but there’s a strange hint of tension attached to it.

“Who would ever think to break up with you?” He leans in, gaze darkening. “They would have to be crazy.”

You pull back, rolling your eyes. He’s always like this. Coy. Intimate. The ultimate womanizer. Sometimes… you wish it could be different.

“Well, he must have been crazy then.”

“What?” Sanji pauses, confusion etches his expression. “You… wait… he broke up with you?!”

“Don’t sound so surprised. He only beat me to it by a week. I had the decency to try and wait until after Valentines,” you note. You aren’t particularly broken up about the whole thing. Your ex is barely an ex—a summer fling, if anything. But Sanji, on the other hand, is acting as if some horrible crime has been committed.

“I’ll kill him.”

You blink. “Okay. A bit of an overreaction.”

“How dare he…” Sanji mumbles, not hearing you. His hand tightly grips the knife handle, and you swear the temperature just dropped even in the presence of boiling pots and simmering roux.

“Alright, enough. Don’t be so dramatic,” you laugh, moving to gently pry his fingers from their iron grip on the handle. He lets you—watching as you take the blade from him, and relishing in the soft feel of your skin against his. He itches to grab your hand and pull you closer. But he doesn’t. He won’t.

He can’t.

Sanji learned very quickly that his charms and gimmicks weren’t going to work on you. In all fairness, they rarely do, but for some unfathomable reason, he can’t seem to let that particular rejection go. He will always resent that part of him for pushing you away and drawing that boundary—a line you both delicately toe, never to cross over to each other’s side.

Your first meeting was… disastrous, to say the least. Sanji had just met the crew, and was tripping over himself to impress Nami, when you had made your way back to the others after a quick break in the powder room.

You had witnessed all of his shameless flirting and blatant promiscuity on your way back. You immediately took a strong dislike to the blonde chef, his behaviour reminiscent of exes that were none too pleasant.

“I’m back.”

At the sound of your voice, Sanji beamed, turning to strike up another flowery bombardment of compliments and flattery… only to freeze in place when he saw you.

For once, his silver tongue lacked its luster, fumbling before the sight of you.

For once, he knew not what to say or do. He could only stare. Only admire and behold.

“Good job. You broke the chef,” Zoro deadpanned.

You pulled an expression of slight concern and mild annoyance.

“Um… are you alright?” You waved a hand across Sanji’s face. No reaction. The rest of the crew barely paid him any mind, too busy either eating, drinking… or arguing, in Nami and Zoro’s case.

You slipped into the booth next to Zoro, choosing to ignore the bizarre situation, when a deep, rumbling voice belonging to a peg-legged old man boomed from across Baratie.

“SANJI!”

It snapped Sanji out of his stupor, grounding him back into reality.

“Marry me.”

But perhaps not logic.

“What?”

Zoro pulled a face of disgust eerily similar to your own. Somewhere in the background, you vaguely heard Ussop choking on his drink. Nami clapped thunderously on his back. Is she trying to help him or kill him?

Luffy, through all of this, watched with bright, curious eyes.

“Yuuummphh fuu’yyy,” exclaimed Luffy, his mouth full of bread, gravy, and what you can only assume is a whole ribeye steak.

Zoro turned his disgust toward the captain. “Are you kidding?”

Luffy scarfed down another forkful of food, grinning wide as he swallowed the last of his meal. He patted his stomach, content, before turning his attention back to Sanji.

“You’re funny!” He laughed.

“That’s what you were trying to say?!”

Luffy ignored Zoro’s exasperation and just giggled in his usual carefree manner. Sanji ignored them all, choosing only you to spare his attention. You shifted uncomfortably, tension coursing through your veins at the way he watched you. As if you were the greatest treasure in all of the Four Seas and he was the king of the pirates—a man would do anything to covet it. Covet you.

Zoro and Luffy didn’t seem to grasp the situation as they continued to bicker in the background.

“Boys. Stop… FIGHTING!” Nami barked out. A swift smack from the ginger settled them both down, each sulking in a corner as she berated them for their behaviour.

You took a deep breath, willing your nerves to calm. You met Sanji’s eyes and they shone with hope.

“You want me to marry you?”

“Yes. Desperately,” he breathed out.

If heart eyes were real, they would beat within the passion of his gaze. Strong. Intense. Unabashed. You despised it. How could he look at you in that way after mere moments of greetings? It was lust. Nothing less, and certainly nothing more.

“SANJI, GET YOUR ASS BACK IN HERE!”

Sanji clenched his jaw at the voice, frustration and irritation barely contained. His expression smoothed over as he spoke to you.

“Think it over?”

You raise a brow. “What? The proposal?”

“Precisely that,” he smiled. Gorgeous asshole.

“Over my dead body,” you scoffed. Your rejection didn’t seem to deter him though, the grin on his face still present even as he left for the kitchen.

So many sleepless nights later and Sanji still can’t help but sigh whenever he remembers that day. He wishes he could take back his words, his actions… his everything. Maybe you would love him back if he did. Maybe you wouldn’t be dating morons who don’t even come close to deserving you—not that he does, but he would try.

For you, he would try it all.

Your soft voice breaks him out of his trip down memory lane.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal,” you reassure.

Sanji wants to shout, But it is! Don’t you get that? How could losing you not be a big deal?

Instead, he shakes his head and takes a long draw from his cigarette. He watches the clouds waft up in lazy rings, circle around your head, and disintegrate into the kitchen heat. Sanji finds it increasingly difficult to meet your eyes.

“Are you alright, love?”

His genuine concern for you makes you smile. “I’m alright, Sanji. I wasn’t that attached, anyway.”

That twinkle in his eyes. It's back again.

“Really? Then what about my initial offer?” he jokes. Though it doesn’t sound like a joke to him. Doesn’t feel like one either.

“What are you talking about?” You ask. You take a spoonful of the broth and bring it to your lips, ignorant of the tense atmosphere. At least until the magnitude of Sanji’s next words drops.

“You know… marrying me.” Sanji holds his breath.

Shit. Why did I say that? He thinks, regretfully.

You falter, the spoon quickly forgotten in the pot. Your appetite disappears just as swiftly.

“Everytime I think we’re having a nice, serious conversation, you just have to go and… say something like that. Aren’t you bored of it? Tired of all the false promises and sweet talk?” You shake your head and stand up to leave.

“[Name], I–”

You cut him off. “I’m disappointed, Sanji.”

“Please, just hear–”

The kitchen door bursts open to show Usopp, who hurriedly beckons you both outside.

“Crew meeting, come on!”

Sanji turns to you, about to say something else, but you ignore him and follow Usopp out into the hallway and up to the deck. Sanji has no choice but to do the same.

Winter has arrived in the form of early nights and fresh snowfall—as if the chilling temperature itself isn’t enough of an indicator. Your breath crystallizes in the air as the three of you venture outside to where you meet the rest of the crew.

Nami has a large sheet of parchment spread flat across the floor with each member of the crew positioned around it in a wide circle. Upon closer inspection, you realize it isn’t one of her usual cartographic maps. It’s a blueprint. And the subject of it… is a castle?

“Nami, what is this?” You ask as you take a seat next to her.

With a pen, she circles a small room located in the eastern wing of the building’s upper level. It sits above a sprawling space. A ballroom, you wager. The schematics look complicated enough.

Nami begins to explain. “This is a blueprint of Ceres Palace, a high-security manor sitting atop the nearest port city. It is home to a powerful noble family…”

She flips the paper over. “…and this.”

A mass of glimmering golden ink shines under the moonlight, every meticulously painted stroke deliberate and delicate. The image is clear.

“Is that a devil fruit?” Robin inquires, eyes narrowing.

“One crafted from solid gold and pure diamond dust, gilded with sea jadeite. It is the most monetarily valuable ‘devil fruit’ in the world, depending on who you ask,” Nami answers. She flips the parchment again. “And we are going to steal it.”

“Wait a damn minu-“

“Hold on-“

“Are we sure that’s-“

A chorus of protests and concerns rise from the rest of the crew, and for good reason. From just a first glance of the palace grounds, you can tell this will be a risky heist, and something in your gut tells you that there’s more to it.

Nami shuts them all up with a pointed glare.

“Do you realize how long I spent drawing up this stupid thing?! One more word from any of you and I will shove it down your throat. Whole,” she threatens.

No one speaks.

“Good. Now, as I was saying, this heist will consist of two parts. The actual theft and the distraction.”

Sanji raises his hand. Nami points at him and nods.

“Why, exactly, are we stealing someone’s gold…er…artifact? I get that we’re pirates but… a bit out of the way, isn’t it?”

Nami, Ussop, and Chopper sigh in unison. The latter ambles your way and climbs into your lap, snuggling for warmth.

“Hello baby,” you murmur. You smile softly as the little reindeer tucks himself into your welcome embrace. You give Chopper a scratch under the chin before turning your attention back to the conversation at hand.

Zoro barely pays any attention, head bobbing a bit. He’s already falling asleep. Typical. Robin, on the other hand, seems to recognize the object.

“I’ve heard of this. Its original name was The Monarch’s Heart. It belonged to the royal family of that island. Twenty years ago, the king’s most trusted advisor spearheaded a coup d’état and a violent rebellion broke out, ending with the execution of the royal family, as well as the usurpation of the former, now exiled, king.” Robin crouches and lightly brushes the blueprint, tracing along its curves. “All this time, the Heart was believed to have been lost amidst war. You’re saying one of the nobles stole it?”

Nami scratches her head and grimaces. “Well, yeah, kinda.”

“What do you mean, ‘kinda’”? You ask.

“We don’t have any proof. Not really,” she shrugs.

“So, again, why are we doing this?” Sanji reiterates.

“We have proof!” Luffy grins. Your captain finally speaks up, too preoccupied with messing with a sleeping Zoro moments ago.

“Luffy—” Nami starts.

“What? I believe the old man. He’s a good guy.” Luffy pats his stomach. “He fed me.”

“What old man?” You’re getting more and more confused as the meeting drags on.

“Luffy. You met the exiled king, didn’t you?” Robin’s eyes twinkle with curiosity.

“Um… I don’t know? I forgot his name but he was nice. Told me about how his stuff got stolen unfairly so I promised to get it back for him.”

“So you don’t even know if he’s telling the truth? What if he was the bad guy, and the nobles who took over overthrew a tyrant?” Sanji blows smoke from his cigarette as he prods.

“He was not,” Robin states factually. “The king was known to be kind and benevolent, catering only to the needs of his people. Since that nation's birth, the royal faction was always at odds with the avaricious nobility. That tension came to a head in the form of a brutal uprising. Though massacre is much more fitting of a description for what occurred.”

“Mhm, mhm, mhm.” Luffy nods vigorously at her words. “So we’re gonna get his gold back for him.”

“Liberating another nation, are we?” Zoro yawns, barely waking up.

“Seems like it,” Nami sighs.

“It’s what the captain wants,” Robin smiles.

“And what Luffy wants…” you begin.

Everyone else groans.

“Luffy gets.”

“So…” Sanji shifts next to you. Closer. His warmth clouds your senses a little and you try to ignore the dizzying effect it has on you. “How do we do this, exactly?”

“I bust down the door and slice ‘em up,” Zoro offers.

“In your dreams, Mosshead. I could take down—”

You pinch his side. Sanji jumps and turns to you, a slight pout on his face. Despite what happened earlier, you find yourself trying not to laugh.

“You’re not doing that, Zoro,” Chopper scolds.

The swordsman tsks. “Fine. Then how the hell are we actually pulling this off?”

Nami explains the plan.

Sanji turns white.

Your mouth drops open. “Excuse me?!”

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　

“Oh god, I’m going to throw up.”

Robin chuckles as she hands you silken gloves. “Don’t worry. You’ll do just fine. Remember, get in, pull the alarm, get out.”

“Easier said than done,” you grumble.

The plan is actually much more complex than what Robin makes it out to be.

The palace itself has two separate alarm systems—one for the vault, and another in case of fire. If both are activated at the same exact moment, they cause a complete system break, and the fire alarm overrides the theft security, forcing an evacuation with everyone none the wiser.

The plan is for you and Sanji to infiltrate the party under the pretense of a foreign dignitary and his spouse, survey and locate the alarm, cause a distraction, and pull the alarm the precise moment Nami unlocks the vault. All communicated via Den Den Mushi earpieces.

Easy peasy.

Your clothing sticks to you uncomfortably—tight in areas you don’t normally expose to the world. The scented oil in your hair makes you smell like you had just popped fresh out of the oven. A layered film of glittering makeup rests on your features, rendering the person in the mirror a complete, hapless stranger.

“Why did it have to be me?”

And Sanji?

You don’t voice that last bit.

“Nami’s the thief, the other boys would blow their covers immediately, I have other matters to attend to, and Chopper… Well, Chopper’s a reindeer.”

You run a hand through your hair. Anxiety claws at your skin. You feel a sudden urge to feign illness and rid yourself of this ridiculous plan.

“Must we pose as a couple? Surely there are other ways,” you implore.

“The invites we swiped were from married nobles,” Robin reminds.

You groan. Robin pats your shoulder supportively.

“There there. Don’t fret, you’ll do fine. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Robin gives you another encouraging pat before she ushers you out of the dressing room.

You make your way outside, shivering slightly as the winter winds bite into your skin. The thin fabric of your garments do nothing to shield the cold.

Someone lets out a sharp inhale. You turn towards the noise. Sanji stands to your left, clutching an envelope in hand. His usual suave demeanour is displaced by an air of buzzing anxiety and a starstruck expression.

He’s dressed in a sleek three-piece black suit. It pains you how devastatingly handsome he looks.

“You clean up nice,” you note.

“I…uh. You—Sorry, yeah, what?” Sanji replies, all smooth and intelligent.

“…Pardon?”

Robin watches the entire interaction with a pained grimace. Having enough, she steps up and gently steers you towards Sanji.

“Hurry up, now. They’re expecting you both soon. Don’t forget to stay in character, lest you end up blowing your covers.” She winks at you both, but you can’t help but think it was directed more towards Sanji.

“Shall we?”

Seemingly recovered from whatever alien had possessed him seconds ago, the chef offers you his arm with a small smile. You place your hand around his bicep and try to ignore his rippling muscles underneath your fingertips.

“Color me surprised. I really thought you’d have showered me with compliments by now,” you joke.

“I thought you didn’t like that part of me.”

Disappointment blooms in your chest.

“Right. I don’t. I just…” you trail off. You just thought you looked nice tonight. And maybe a small part of you was hoping he felt the same.

“Never mind.”

You slip your hand out of the crook of Sanji’s arm and start walking a little bit faster, hoping he doesn’t notice the conflicting emotions on your face.

When Sanji first joined the crew, you made yourself a promise: that you would never fall for his charms. But as time went on and he showed you a mountain of kindness, understanding, and empathy… that promise, steadily, became much harder to keep and much easier to forget. It wasn’t his flirting and charms that were dangerous—it was the man buried underneath all that playful pretense. A man who has stubbornly found his way into your guarded heart, despite your best efforts of keeping him out.

It was always easier that way. Easier to turn away, to shut him out. Easier to walk away when you catch him with others who drew his interest and to stop listening as he murmurs sweet nothings in their ears—the very ones he had whispered to you. It was easier to accept that you are not, and will not, be special to him.

You refuse to be just another mark in his book of conquests, and if all it takes is a silent heartbreak to avoid such a fate, so be it. You’ve survived much worse before.

The palace soon comes into view, a grand structure that stretches into the vertical horizon. The path towards the marbled entrance is busy with bustling guests and the glowing orbs of rainbow fireflies. You steadily, and as elegantly as possible, make your way towards the host out in front.

“Good evening, may I see your invitations for the night?” He asks, gloved hand outstretched in expectation.

Sanji flashes him a million-berry smile. “Of course, my good sir. I have them right here.”

He pulls out the envelope you had seen earlier from inside his black suit jacket. The greeter accepts the documents and diligently scans them. After a few seconds, he nods, satisfied by what he sees, and hands the papers back to Sanji.

“Enjoy your night.” He moves aside to let you pass and holds an arm out, guiding you both through the white stone doors.

As soon as you step through the entrance , you are greeted by a foyer fit for kings. A cascading staircase blanketed by red velvet leads to even larger double doors, both white like the walls, but trimmed with gold linings and spiral handles. A crystal chandelier, bigger than you ever thought possible, hangs from the ceiling. It casts shining diamonds in every reflection of the room.

Sanji holds out his arm for you again as you both prepare to execute the mission, but you don’t immediately go to take it. Sanji must sense your hesitation because he sighs and gives you a strained, yet still affectionate smile.

“[Name], please. If not for me, then for appearances. We’re married, remember?”

“Fake married,” you correct, although you relent and slip your hand in the crook of his elbow anyway.

“You don’t have to remind me.”

Arm in arm, Sanji leads you to the ballroom. The doors open to reveal hundreds of nobles draped in silk and pearls, dining on delicacies, and mingling with others of their same social echelon. You already want to go home.

You both find a small table tucked into a corner and stand around it.

“We have to wait until Nami gives us the signal. First, let’s blend in and make sure to look like we belong,” you whisper.

Sanji leans in to hear you better. “What do you suggest? We could hit the banquet table, the food doesn’t look half bad.”

You peer over his shoulder at the platters of hor d'oeuvres and fancy desserts. “They don’t look nearly as good as what you make.”

“Was that a compliment?” Sanji grins.

“Don’t get used to it. Your heads already far too big,” you smirk.

“I don’t have that much of an ego,” he grumbles, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.

“Hey, don’t do that.” You gently swat at his hand, admonishing him for trying to pull the string out.

“Why? It’s annoying.”

“Yeah, but you’ll ruin it even more if you just yank at it. Hold on.” You pluck a small oyster shucker from a passing waitress’s pocket, with her none the wiser. With the knife, you smoothly cut away the thread and flick it into a bin behind you.

Sanji stares at you in awe. “Did you just pickpocket the…”

“Not a word.”

“Got it.”

“Anyway, we don’t want to ruin these clothes. They’re borrowed. And so much nicer than what we’re used to.”

You pull at your collar to adjust it, only to realize Sanji is staring at you again, but with a different glint in his eyes. One with more… heat. It is only now that you realize how close you are to him—pressed up against his side, thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, as you both converse away from the crowd. Sanji exudes warmth that, mixed with your own cluttered feelings, makes you a bit dizzy. You take a step back. Sanji’s gaze never leaves you.

“Did I tell you earlier how good you look?”

You swallow. “No.”

He steps closer, closing the gap again. “You look good. Really, really good.”

“Thanks. Formal clothing does wonders.” Your laugh comes out more nervous than you intended.

“Unbelievably good,” he murmurs, almost to himself—like he can’t believe what’s right in front of him.

“Sanji–”

A screeching violin note interrupts you and the strange moment you both got caught up in. Sanji snaps back to his usual self and quickly shakes his head, as if clearing away a fog.

“Food,” he coughs.

You blink. “Right. Food.”

“I’m gonna…” Sanji motions towards the buffet.

You’ve never seen him this… awkward. You’re not sure what to make of it.

“Yeah. Go ahead. I’m gonna scope out the place and figure out where the alarm is.”

He stiffly nods, then makes his way across the ballroom. You turn heel and begin walking along the corridors, scanning for anything that may resemble an alarm.

A static noise crackles in your right ear.

“Can…I—“

A sudden spike of sharp feedback makes you wince.

“Sorry! Can you hear me?” Nami’s voice pipes up.

“Yes. Comms are working. What am I looking for, Nami?”

“Something resembling a button, maybe? Look for a red button or something along those lines.”

“Understood..”

After about ten minutes of searching, you finally come upon it, a small red lever nestled in a corner behind the bar, protected by a square glass casing.

You spot Sanji across the room, mid-conversation with a beautiful, young noble. Your chest twinges, but you push the feeling away. His eyes flit to yours and you subtly wave him over, gesturing to the alarm handle.

Sanji excuses himself and briskly makes his way to you.

“You found it?”

“Of course. It’s the whole reason we’re here, remember?” You ignore the lump in your throat.

“Sorry, I got distracted. I didn’t think—”

“It’s fine, Sanji. You were having fun. You don’t have to apologize. Did you get her number at least?” You try and coolly play it off.

His eyebrows knit together. “No. No, I—”

“Anyway, we should figure out how to distract the bartender. He’s the only one who is in the way.”

If Sanji notices your blatant attempt at changing the subject, he doesn’t show it.

“Sure. Any ideas, beautiful?”

“One.”

“What’s the plan?”

You fidget with your sleeve. “He’s been eyeing me all night.”

Sanji makes a disapproving noise. “...I noticed.”

“I’ll distract him. You get the alarm,” you shrug.

Sanji’s eyes narrow. “How, exactly, are you going to do that?”

“C’mon, Sanji, you can’t be that dense. I’m going to seduce him.”

His reply is immediate and final. “No.”

You balk at his flat tone. “What do you mean: no?”

“No. As in opposite of yes. As in absolutely not,” he hisses.

“Sanji. I have t-”

“No as in not okay!”

You place a hand over his mouth in an effort to stop his outburst. “Shhh! Stop that. Are you trying to draw attention to us?!”

He pulls your arm away, undeterred by your growing panic of being found out. “If it’ll get you to reconsider, then yes!”

“Sanji, enough. What is wrong with you? Why are you so worked up?”

“Do you seriously have to ask that?” He cries out, exasperated.

You open your mouth to retort, but Nami’s voice interrupts you.

“Sorry to break up whatever dumb fight this is, but I need someone to pull the alarm in exactly 60 seconds.”

You give Sanji an expectant look. He firmly shakes his head.

“Not happening.”

Before you can stop him, the chef makes his way to the bar, stumbling as if drunk. Before you know what’s happening, Sanji pulls a whiskey bottle from behind the bar, much to the bartender's protests and dismay. He takes a large swig, and you blow out a breath of relief when he sets it down.

Then he picks it back up again. You watch in horror as he lifts the bottle up and… accidentally pours the entire thing onto the champagne tower beside him. The glasses overflow, and the weight of the extra liquid becomes too much. One by one, the glasses come tumbling down in a landslide of alcohol and crystal.

The bartender cries out in distress. Sanji is unapologetic.

You run to the alarm amidst the mess.

“Ready, [name]?”

“Whenever you are, Nami.”

She begins counting down and the moment you hear: Now!, you pull the handle.

All hell breaks loose.

Blaring alarms ring out, drowning out every other possible sound. Sprinklers sprout from the ceiling and rain down on the partygoers, soaking them and the luxury furniture. Hundreds of panicked patrons scramble to leave, directed by equally flustered staff.

You feel a tug on your sleeve. It’s Sanji.

He tries saying something but is drowned out by the chaos around you. Frustrated, he beckons you over and motions for you to follow him.

After a couple minutes of navigating through screaming nobility, you end up on a secluded balcony away from all the activity. The alarms are barely louder than bells on this end of the palace.

You take a second to catch your breath. Both of you are drenched to the bone, and the chilly winter air does nothing to help your chattering teeth.

Sanji notices your shivering form and immediately drapes his jacket over your shoulders.

You smile gratefully at him, but falter when you see the frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Take it out.”

You blink. “What?”

“The earpiece. Take it out,” he says, impatient.

“Why?”

Sanji runs a hand through his hair in both irritation and anxiousness. “Because I’m going to confess my love for you and I don’t want everyone to hear it. They’d never let me live it down, especially that green-haired freak.”

You freeze. Your thoughts freeze. Every fucking thing stops dead in it’s tracks, including your heart.

“Sanji, this isn’t funny.” Your voice trembles.

“Baby, take the earpiece out. Let me talk to you,” he asks softly.

You don’t say anything, you don’t trust yourself to. With shaking hands, you take the Den Den Mushi out and turn it off.

It is only you and Sanji now.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you echo.

“[Name].”

God, why does he have to say your name in that way? Like it means something more than friends—like it’s worth its weight in both diamonds and gold.

“This still isn’t funny.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not joking,” he says, tone as serious as you’ve ever heard it.

You sigh. “What are we doing, Sanji?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m trying to confess my undying love to my favourite person in the world. It’s scary.”

“You say that—”

“I mean it,” he interjects.

“What makes me different? What makes me…”

Worthy of your love?

Sanji reaches for you, but stops himself at your expression. You continue questioning his words.

“How do I know this isn’t just some temporary thing? A fleeting crush?” You swallow hard. For some reason, you’re unable to meet his steady gaze. “How do I know this is real?”

He rubs the back of his neck, conflicting emotions flickering across his face. Sanji struggles to find the words needed to convince you. He tries his best, anyway.

“I know what my reputation is like. I know the personality I present to the world. But after I met you, none of it seemed worth it anymore. There was no appeal to living that type of life,” he pauses. Sanji lifts his head and stares straight at you, unwavering in his words. “The moment I saw you, I thought I’d die if I couldn’t be yours. I still think that now.”

Oh. Your chest is trying to kill you. That’s the only explanation for the ache you feel.

“I trust you with my life, Sanji. But not my heart.”

The alarms have stopped by now. Soon, people will come trickling back inside and the mission will be over. This moment in time will soon fade into the background of reality.

“I only ask that you give me a chance.”

“What makes you so sure that you’re the kind of guy I want to be with?”

“As opposed to your exes? Those guys—none of them deserved you,” he scoffs, annoyed at the mere mention of them.

You raise a brow. “Do you?”

“No. Of course not,” he answers. “But I want to try. Please, god, let me try.”

Your hands are still shaking, but not from the cold.

“We should get back to the ship,” you say, a strained smile on your face.

Sanji’s face falls at your deflection, but he accepts it and doesn’t push. He nods, and you both make your way back to the Merry, an uncomfortable silence hanging over you like a wet blanket.

You are only a couple hundred meters out from the ship when you stop abruptly. Sanji almost crashes into you, but steadies himself at the last second.

“Is something wrong?” He asks in concern.

Before you can lose your nerve, you whirl around and utter two words: “One date.”

It takes Sanji a few moments to understand what you just said, but when he does, he lights up like a kid on Christmas Eve. One who just met Santa. The sheer joy on his face makes it all worth it.

“You’re not messing with me, right? Please say no,” he shakily pleads.

You shake your head. “One. Make it count.”

Instead of answering, he throws his arms around you, wrapping you in his warm embrace.

You loop your arms around his neck and he melts into you, never wanting to let go.

“I’ll make you say yes to a second one. And then a third. And then a lifetime of dates after that. I swear it on my honour as a chef.”

“It’ll have to be a pretty damn good date then,” you laugh.

Sanji presses his forehead on yours.

“It’ll be the best date.”

“And how do you know that?” You tease.

“Because you will be there.”

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007

1K notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 17 days ago

Text

late nights — bang chan, hyunjin, wooyoung, and niki. ♡

it feels so good to be seen and loved, especially after an exhausting day.

bang chan

truthfully, you don’t even know how you made it here in one piece—here, being chris’ studio. utterly exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it, but the day is finally over, and you’re holding onto that small grace. not like you have much of a choice, right?

your eyes flutter shut for just a second as you lean against the door, the light thud startling you back to the moment. you laugh quietly at yourself, embarrassed by how ready your body was to believe this was the end of the day, before finally pushing the door open.

you and chris share the same curse: you work too hard, and far too much. so, it doesn’t surprise you to see him exactly as you left him this morning—headphones on, hunched over his computer, eyes flickering across the screen. even from the doorway, you can hear the bass pumping loud enough to feel it in your chest.

you weren’t planning on saying anything. the couch beside his desk had your name written all over it, and all you wanted was to curl up and let sleep take over until he was ready to leave. but somehow, you find enough strength to call out to him.

“baby.”

it’s almost immediate, the way his head snaps toward you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on yours. it’s like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. his headphones are off in seconds, tossed carelessly onto the desk. that alone tells you everything—he must think you look even worse than you feel.

he doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms wide, inviting you in. and how could you ever say no to him? you drag your feet across the room, collapsing into his lap without a second thought. his arms wrap around you tightly, and for the first time all day, you feel like you can finally exhale.

“you had a long day, didn’t you?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear before pressing a soft kiss there.

all you can do is nod, burying yourself deeper into his neck. he smells just like he did this morning, warm and familiar, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. neither of you moves for what feels like forever, but it’s the kind of forever you could get used to. his touch says everything words can’t—how much he missed you, how much he hates seeing you this tired, how much he loves you.

you want to tell him you should go home, that you need a proper bed, but you can’t. you know how important his work is, and you’d never forgive yourself for making him feel guilty about staying.

but then his voice breaks the silence, low and soft. “i think i’m done for the night.”

your head snaps up, searching his face for any sign he’s joking. “no, baby. i’m fine. keep working,” you say quickly, even as your body betrays you and leans back into his chest. the guilt creeps up before you can stop it.

his thumb brushes your cheek, and his eyes lock on yours with so much tenderness it nearly knocks the wind out of you. “the only thing i want to do is go home, run you a bath, and hold you while you fall asleep. this can wait until tomorrow. you’re the most important thing to me, and i need you to know that.”

he kisses you softly, and when he pulls back, there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “besides,” he adds with a wink, “if i don’t take care of you, who’s going to remind me to take care of myself?”

hyunjin

you and your man were both terribly sleepy babies. no matter how hard you tried to stay awake for each other on late nights, one of you always gave in first. it was a routine by now: a simple “i love you” text signaling surrender to the pull of a memory foam mattress or an irresistibly soft couch. there was never any guilt, just understanding.

but this month? this month has been unrelenting. you’ve been in full girl boss mode, pushing through deadlines and back-to-back meetings, while hyunjin has been caught up in the chaos of a comeback. you can’t even remember the last time you sat down together for dinner, watched a show, or just existed in the same moment. you miss it. you miss him.

when his schedule was calmer, hyunjin stayed with you as much as he could. but now, the dorm has him locked down. as you punch in your door code, you sigh, already feeling the emptiness of your apartment. you wish he were here—even if it meant finding him passed out on the couch, mouth slightly open, barely coherent as you whispered him awake and tugged him to bed

tonight, though, there’s no detour. no lingering in the kitchen or collapsing on the couch. you head straight to your room, already peeling off your jacket as you close the door behind you. exhaustion weighs heavy on you, but something feels… off.

your heart stutters. someone’s here.

you freeze. open your eyes, idiot, you scold yourself. slowly, you do, and your breath catches in your throat

there, glowing like a dream, stands hyunjin. a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, his smile stretching so wide his eyes crinkle shut. he’s radiant, like he stepped out of your imagination, but he’s real.

“baby,” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief. “what… how are you here? i thought—”

you don’t get the words out, too stunned to string them together. he steps closer, slow and steady, placing the roses and wine into your hands before cupping your face and kissing you, soft and sure. his lips feel like coming home

“i missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm against your ear. “it’s been hell not being able to see you, touch you, hold you. i’ve been trying so hard to wait, but when i called you this morning and heard how tired you sounded… i had to be here. i couldn’t let you come home to an empty apartment tonight.

you melt into his arms, burying your face in his chest as his words sink in. “i knew it,” you say suddenly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a teasing smirk spreading across your face. “you really can’t stay away from me. i’m irresistible, huh?”

he bursts out laughing, the sound warm and rich, making his whole body shake as he leans his forehead against yours. “shut up,” he grins, but his eyes are so full of love you can feel it in your bones.

The he cups your face again, pressing his lips back to yours in a kiss that feels like a promise. this one is different—hungrier, deeper, filled with everything he’s been holding back. his right hand gently takes the flowers and wine from you, tossing them onto the couch as if they’re the least important thing in the world.

“you’ve been stressed too, baby,” you murmur between kisses, your hands sliding up his chest as he pulls you closer. “you want me to make it better? take your mind off everything?”

“please,” he breathes, the single word trembling with desperation.

and that’s all it takes for the two of you to let go of everything else—the stress, the distance, the long days apart. tonight, it’s just you and him.

wooyoung

i know that the last conversation we had didn’t end on a good note. and i know you’re still trying to process everything going on with us and probably don’t want to see me. but I can’t help but feel like you’re exhausted and need something to take your mind off of everything you have going on right now. regardless of what we’re going through rn, i love you and I’ll always be here to make things better.

your heart aches as you read wooyoung’s text.

i’m outside. take your time. i’ll wait for you.

you didn’t think you’d hear from him tonight—not after the way your last conversation had ended. but that’s wooyoung, always showing up when you need him most, even when things between you feel fragile and uncertain.

you grab your jacket and step outside, the chill in the air catching you off guard. but then you see him, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, his hair a little messy, his expression soft despite the exhaustion etched into it.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world stills.

without a word, he opens the car door for you. as you slide into the passenger seat, you feel the familiar warmth of his presence settle over you like a blanket. he gets in, shutting the door gently, and the two of you sit there, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

“you didn’t have to come,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

he turns to you, his gaze steady, his hand already reaching for yours. “yes, i did.” his tone is quiet but firm, like he needs you to believe it

his thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, and it’s enough to unravel the tight knot in your chest.

“i know it’s been rough lately,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “but no matter what we’re going through, i can’t stand the thought of you sitting at home feeling this way. you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here. always.”

you close your eyes, his words sinking into the deepest parts of you.

he leans over, pulling you into his arms, and it’s like you’re a piece of a puzzle snapping into place. his embrace is so warm, so full of everything he can’t quite say, and you don’t realize how much you needed it until you’re here, breathing him in.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i should’ve brought a blanket.”

you let out a soft laugh, your breath brushing against his collarbone. “you’re the blanket.”

he smiles against your hair, holding you a little tighter. “good. then i’m not letting go.”

for a long time, you just sit there, his arms wrapped around you, his hand gently tracing soothing patterns along your back. it’s so quiet, but the silence is full of him—his love, his care, his determination to make sure you feel safe, even when things between you aren’t perfect.

“thank you for coming,” you whisper after a while, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i’ll always come,” he replies, his lips brushing against your forehead. “no matter what’s happening. you’re my person.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, it feels like everything might actually be okay. whatever else you have to figure out, whatever else you have to say, you can face it together.

for now, this is enough. this is everything.

niki

the studio was quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel how tired you really were. your body ached, your mind felt heavy, and the only thing keeping you upright was the cool press of the mirror at your back.

you closed your eyes, just for a second, and let out a sigh.

“you always look like you’re about to fall apart after practice,” a familiar voice teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.

your eyes snapped open, and when you saw him standing there in the doorway, you actually laughed out loud.

“niki?” you said, your voice pitching higher in disbelief. “what the—how did you even get in here?”

he grinned, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place, hands stuffed casually into his hoodie pockets. “i have my ways.”

“your ways?” you repeated, still laughing, though your exhaustion made it sound a little delirious. “what, did you sneak past security?”

he shrugged, his grin widening. “you’d be surprised what a little charm can do.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

niki stepped into the room then, pulling a takeout bag from behind his back like it was some big reveal. “anyway, i figured you might be hungry. you were going on and on about this the other day, so…”

you blinked at him, your chest tightening. “you remembered that?”

niki rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a blush creeping up his neck. “obviously. i’m not as clueless as you think.”

he walked over and sat down beside you, his legs stretching out across the floor. the bag landed in your lap, and the smell alone was enough to make your stomach growl.

“you didn’t have to,” you murmured, though you were already pulling the container out.

“yeah, well,” he said, leaning back against the mirror with a shrug, “i wanted to.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you forgot how exhausted you were. his face was calm, but his eyes were soft, like he was seeing you in a way no one else ever had.

“thanks, niki,” you said quietly.

he waved it off like it was nothing, but the tips of his ears were pink, and you knew him well enough to know what that meant.

“you worked hard today,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “but you always do.”

you smiled, but it felt bittersweet. “sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”

niki’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it is,” he said firmly. “you are.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you didn’t know what to say. so you didn’t. you just opened the container, took a bite, and let the warmth of the food—and his presence—melt away the edges of your day.

he didn’t say anything else, just stayed there beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed when one of you moved.

and maybe you were both too scared to say it out loud, too scared to ruin whatever this was, but in that moment, you knew: he was your safe place. and maybe, just maybe, you were his too.

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pinkcarnatixns · 10 months ago

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leah williamson | hands down

synopsis your girlfriend (barely) faces the consequences for her irritating behavior [1.5K] contents bf! leah, slightly suggestive

You were unbelievably pissed.

Banging open the door to your shared apartment, you make a beeline for the couch and throw your weight into it with a huff. Making a show of being occupied with clicking through channels, you stubbornly keep your eye on the screen when the sound of your girlfriend’s sock-clad feet pad into the room.

“Baby,” she whined. Sparing her a glance, you only narrowed your eyes further at her standing form, complete with a pout and carrying both of your heavy training bags. At the resolute silence she receives and losing your gaze to the TV, she makes a statement of letting them both thud to the floor and stomping over.

“You cannot be serious!” She argues as she’s met with a socked foot to the abdomen when making a move to sit next to you.

As she’s standing over you, you make an effort for an even steelier gaze as the beginnings of a smirk tease her lips. Slowly, she leans more and more weight onto your leg which, shaky from training- quickly crumbles under the pressure. “Get off Leah! You are stinky and annoying!” The small victory she gets from crashing onto you is quickly replaced by shock as she tumbles to the floor at your retaliation.

“You can kick me all you want but do not call me Leah!” She scoffs, clutching her chest and looking up at you with her all-too-familiar furrowed brow. “Why not Williamson? It is your name, isn’t it?” You smack away the ghost of her hand on your thigh and roll your eyes.

“Stop that! You only call me that when you’re angry!” She groans as she stands to her feet, matching your crossed arms, “And I haven’t done anything!”

“Oh really! Then it must have been my other completely irritating girlfriend who insists on poking and prodding me like a teenage boy all day long!” You punctuate your words by standing and digging your pointer finger into her sternum.

In an attempt to quell your frustration, her hands find a familiar place on your hips in the small space between your bodies. You avert your gaze to avoid crumbling at the act of affection accompanied by the heady smell of her perfume, your crossed arms still your only line of defense. Her head tilts softly as she gazes down at you, “Is it such a crime to be obsessed with my lovely, gorgeous, talented girlfriend?”

Heat rises to your cheeks, shy under her complete attention and frustrated at the way she can still make you blush easily after all these years. At the small break in your angry facade, she takes the opportunity to let her hands wander lower, unfortunately jogging your memory to what had instigated your fury in the first place. “It absolutely is when you feel the need to smack my butt in front of all our teammates like a horny boy while they laugh on like your own little fraternity! Honestly!” Shoving at her chest, you stalk over to your shared bedroom.

Following at a much slower pace and with her head down like a scolded child, she watches on quietly as you rip through the drawers for a change of clothes, grabbing a towel so hard you nearly send the whole stack tumbling. Realizing where this is going, she starts pleading, “Honey, I’m so sorry, they were really egging me on! I swear Katie-”

She stops talking and tailing you as she nearly collides with your back, mustering up her most pitiful puppy eyes as you set your things on the counter. Whipping around to face her, you stand in the threshold of the bathroom, gripping the door with white knuckles. “I’m taking a shower! Alone!” The door is then promptly shut in her face and she hears the lock’s definite click ringing in her ears.

She pouts at the hardwood in self-pity before deciding there was much groveling that needed to be done and she should try to get a head start while you cooled off.

After taking your time in the shower, you did feel much more relaxed- enough that you reached for one of Leah’s sweaters when leaving the warm steam of the bathroom. Treading back into the living room, you were surprised at her absence on the couch, your girlfriend normally one for lazing around after training.

You’re suspicious at the small glimpse of her in the kitchen, striding over to you with a sheepish smile, steaming plate in each hand. She had clearly taken the time to shower in the guest room, clad in a hoodie that you remembered complimenting at some point, accompanied by some oversized basketball shorts. Her hair was haphazardly tied up, and you found your frown dissolving at the sight of her bangs sticking out, never quite cooperating much to your girlfriend’s chagrin.

“‘M sorry, I know it’s not much but it’s all I can make without burning our kitchen down.” She awkwardly chuckles, avoiding your eyes slightly in shame. You sigh, irritation gone from your body, and reach for one of the plates of spaghetti when she yanks it back towards herself. She lights up completely at your small acceptance of her peace offering and smirks. “No! Nothing but the princess treatment tonight, my love!”

Navigating around you towards the couch with a new pep in her step, you stand stunned at her sudden change in attitude. You watch on as she carefully sets the plates down on the coffee table next to wine glasses that you hadn’t noticed before, happily plopping into her normal spot.

She had clearly prepared this to some extent, as she drags your favorite blanket half over herself, hovering the rest next to her as an invitation. She shoots you with her familiar pleading gaze, shaking your side of the blanket for emphasis. You were never destined to hold out for long, treading over with a roll of your eyes. As you sit down next to her, she shoots you a thousand-kilowatt smile, leaning over you and tucking the blanket under your thigh, clearly a ruse to have you scooch closer to her- her body heat now seeping into yours.

“You get to pick the entertainment for tonight, no complaints, I swear!” She passes you the remote, and lets her arm fall around your shoulders, gazing at you with a smug grin on her face. Leah always claimed to hate your ‘cheesy’ movies, forever trying to distract you from them with affection. “I should pick a movie I know you hate after that earlier stunt.” You mumble, but she recognizes the teasing lilt to your voice.

“I’m sorry honey. You really just looked too good today! It should be illegal to be that pretty after running around in the dirt all day, seriously!” You blush at her words, leaning over to place a small peck on her lips to shut her up and because you really could not keep up this facade much longer.

She lights up even further, smile bursting at the seams as she eagerly reaches over to place your plate in your lap. At your fork in her hand and her refusal to hand it to you, you quickly catch on to what she’s trying to do. “Leah. Please do not.”

She sinks a little at your words, and groans. “Call me anything but Leah, I’m literally begging.”

You giggle at her dramatics. “Fine baby, please do not embarrass me in my own home, I’m capable of feeding myself.”

Completely ignoring your words, she makes a point of twisting around some noodles into a little bite and holding it up to your mouth. At your glare, she just smiles harder and moves it closer to your mouth. Knowing she wouldn’t drop it, you open your mouth and allow her to feed you. As you chew, she stares pensively, “How is it?”

It’s entirely too salty, forever being the girl’s favorite ‘seasoning,’ but you get it down and send her a thumbs up anyway- accompanied with a small smile. She’s ecstatic at your praise and peppers your face with kisses before you push her away lightly, giggling with your mouth still a bit full.

“Now that’s settled! Finish your five star meal and then I deserve a much-needed cuddle session for all my hard work!” She grabs her own bowl and starts scarfing it down. You chuckle to yourself at her newfound enthusiasm, satisfied at the fact that she still glues one hand to your thigh while eating with the other.

As your plates are almost clean, you break the comfortable silence with a final warning. “Do not do that again baby. You are the vice captain of a professional team and a grown woman, not a twelve year old boy. And Katie’s still in big trouble for egging you on.”

She sets both of your finished bowls back on the table, dragging your legs over hers which leaves you half on her lap. Meeting your pouty gaze, she breaks out in a shit-eating grin. “But baby, you’re so hot when you’re mad at me.”

You hope that the neighbors don’t complain at the resounding yelp she lets out as your hand slaps her bare thigh with all the strength you can muster.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso community #leah williamson fluff #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot

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lila-lou · 4 months ago

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✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 1✨

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap

Word Count: 4385

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"Fucking shit!", Jack grumbled as he yanked the heavy piece of wood back into place, his muscles straining from the sudden weight. His colleague had almost dropped it from his side, barely catching it in time. Jack's patience was wearing thin after hours of working under the hot sun. They were up on the fifth floor of a building still under construction, the framework barely holding together as they handed over beam after beam to meet the firm’s relentless deadline.

"Watch it, man", Jack muttered, glaring at his coworker, and best friend, who shrugged it off with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t in the mood for apologies or excuses. He adjusted his grip, steadying the beam as they maneuvered it into place, his hands rough and worn from the constant grind. The city skyline stretched out in the distance, a reminder of how much work still lay ahead.

They were only halfway through the shift, and Jack could already feel the familiar ache settling into his shoulders. It wasn’t like he hated the job — he was good at it, and it paid the bills — but days like these made him wonder how long he could keep it up.

One misstep up here and things could go bad real quick.

A few hours later, as Jack made his way toward his car, the heat of the day still clung to him, though the sweat on his body had started to dry. His shirt stuck to his back, and every step felt like a reminder of the long, grueling hours spent on the site. His muscles ached, and all he could think about was getting home.

Just as he unlocked his car, he heard footsteps pounding behind him. Anthony, his best friend, jogged up with that usual grin plastered on his face. “Hey, man! You wanna grab a beer in town? Some of the guys are heading over to O’Malley’s”.

Jack groaned inwardly, barely holding back an eye roll. The last thing he wanted right now was to be surrounded by loud voices and more chaos. He glanced at Anthony and waved him off. "Dude, even my fucking balls are sweating. I'm beat to hell after this week".

Anthony laughed, clapping him on the shoulder, but Jack wasn’t in the mood.

“Nah, man. I’m heading home. All I wanna do is watch the football game, grab a bucket of wings, crack open a six-pack, and call it a night”. He paused and smirked, half-joking. “Might jerk off if I can stay awake long enough”.

Anthony let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “Sounds like a hell of a night. Alright, man, catch you next time”.

Jack nodded, climbing into his car and slamming the door shut. As soon as the engine roared to life, he felt the weight of exhaustion settle over him. His mind was already on the couch waiting for him. Nothing fancy. Just a little peace, a little food, and maybe, if he wasn’t too worn out, a moment to himself before crashing into bed.

Half an hour later, Jack trudged up the stairs to his apartment, the bucket of wings tucked under his arm like a lifeline. His body ached with every step. Man, he was tired. All he wanted was to collapse on the couch.

As he reached the top of the stairs, nearing his door, a loud bang jolted him out of his thoughts. He froze, listening, and sure enough, there were more sounds—soft curses, followed by another series of thuds—coming from the apartment across the hall. The one that had been empty for months since the old lady who lived there had moved to a retirement home.

Jack paused, glancing over his shoulder at the door. Whoever it was clearly wasn’t having the smoothest move-in. He heard something fall again, accompanied by a muffled groan of frustration.

Jack groaned in annoyance, rubbing a hand across his face. Just great. As if the week hadn’t been exhausting enough, now he had to imagine his weekend being a noisy mess thanks to whoever was moving in. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. Instead, it seemed like his weekend would be filled with endless bangs and thuds coming from across the hall.

Another loud thud echoed through the hallway, followed by a soft “Ouchy” that made him roll his eyes. He could already picture some clueless person fumbling around with boxes, knocking stuff over, and generally making a racket. The kind of person who probably had no idea how to move without turning it into a circus.

Jack shifted the bucket of wings under his arm, debating whether or not to knock on the door. Part of him wanted to just ignore it, retreat into his apartment, and hope for the best. But the other part, the more frustrated part, was tempted to knock and tell them to keep it down. He’d had a long week, and he deserved a break, damn it.

Finally, he took a deep breath and approached the door, raising his fist to knock.

Just then, the door swung open unexpectedly, and there you were, looking frazzled and clearly unprepared for company. You were wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a tank top, your skin glistening slightly from the heat. Your hair, a messy bun on top of your head, looked like it had been thrown together in a hurry, and you had no makeup on, not that you needed it.

Jack blinked, momentarily caught off guard, staring at the younger woman standing in front of him.

You, on the other hand, were equally surprised to see the man standing in front of you. He had to be at least double your age, but damn, he was handsome—broad-shouldered, his shirt sticking to his body in places from what looked like a long day of work, and those tired, slightly irritated eyes that made him seem like someone who didn’t put up with much nonsense.

“Uh… hi”, you blurted, your voice a little breathless from all the moving. You glanced down at the two boxes sitting in front of your door, which you had come out to grab. “Sorry about the noise. I swear, I’m almost done”.

Jack let out a deep breath. “Yeah, I was kind of wondering if you were trying to tear the place down before you even moved in”.

You laughed, a soft, self-conscious sound, running a hand over your face. “Feels like it. I’m not exactly an expert at this moving thing. Been here all day, and I’m pretty sure I’ve destroyed more stuff than I’ve unpacked”.

Jack’s eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of your casual shorts and tank top, the slight sheen of sweat on your skin. His gaze wasn’t lewd, but it was unmistakably assessing, like he was trying to figure you out. The tiredness in his eyes gave way to something more skeptical, maybe even judgmental. He crossed his arms, one eyebrow raising slightly as if he couldn’t believe someone as young as you could afford a place like this without some help from your parents—or worse, without a party lifestyle attached.

“You’re not planning on partying every day, though, right?”, Jack said, his voice carrying an edge of suspicion. His eyes lingered just a moment too long before meeting yours again. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of noisy neighbors—especially younger ones.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the implication. Seriously? He didn’t even know you, and already he was sizing you up like you were going to turn the building into a constant rave scene. You clenched your jaw, irritation bubbling up despite the exhaustion from moving.

“Uh, no”, you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. “I actually have to work. So no, I’m not throwing parties 24/7”.

His eyebrow quirked slightly at that, as if reassessing you now. He didn’t say anything, just gave a small grunt in response. It was hard to tell whether he believed you or not, but he didn’t press the issue.

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling judged by this man who you had just met. He was rude, but still frustratingly handsome, even if you hated to admit it. “Anyway”, you added, trying to keep the edge out of your voice, “I just moved in today, so I’m probably more exhausted than you are right now”.

Jack glanced at the boxes again, the annoyance in his posture easing just slightly. He seemed to realize that you weren’t what he’d assumed at first glance. “Fair enough”, he said after a moment. “I’m not trying to be a dick. It’s just been a long week, and I wasn’t expecting… all this noise”.

“Yeah, well, me neither”, you said, rolling your eyes and grabbing one of the boxes. “Last thing I wanted today was to turn my move into a construction site soundtrack”.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you before Jack let out a small sigh, as if he were finally letting go of the tension. “Alright”, he said, softer now.

With that, Jack simply turned around, seemingly content to let the conversation end there. His broad shoulders shifted as he took a few steps toward his door, the tension finally draining from the air between you. You stood there for a moment, watching him, still feeling a bit stung by the way he had sized you up but relieved that the exchange hadn’t escalated into anything worse.

“I’m Y/N, by the way”, you called after him, hoping to salvage at least a shred of neighborly civility. Maybe if you introduced yourself, it would take the edge off his attitude.

But he didn’t stop. He was already at his door, turning the knob without so much as glancing back. The heavy sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the hallway, leaving you standing there, feeling awkward and a little insulted. Clearly, Jack wasn’t the friendly type—or maybe he was just having a bad day.

You exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the box a little tighter as you shuffled it into your apartment. Shutting your own door behind you, you leaned against it for a second, shaking your head. Great, you thought, this is going to be an interesting neighbor dynamic.

Moving boxes and unpacking was hard enough, but now you had to deal with the grumpy guy across the hall. You couldn't help but wonder if he’d always be this much of a grump or if this was just his post-work exhaustion talking. Either way, you figured you wouldn’t be getting on his good side any time soon.

Meanwhile, Jack made his way into his apartment, the door closing behind him with a thud. He set the bucket of wings down on the counter, exhaling as he ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He couldn’t shake the image of you—frazzled, yet oddly composed—out of his mind. It annoyed him, mostly because he knew he’d been unnecessarily rude.

Shaking it off, he emptied the bucket of wings into his air fryer and set the timer. He had earned this meal after the week he’d had, and he wasn’t about to let anything ruin that. As the air fryer whirred to life, Jack peeled off his work shirt, which clung to his skin, then kicked off his boots as he headed toward the bathroom.

The mirror caught a glimpse of his reflection as he stripped down, his body still sore from the grind of lifting and hauling all day. He sighed, stepping into the shower, letting the hot water wash over him. It was like the heat and frustration of the day started to melt away the moment the water hit his skin.

Jack leaned his head against the tile, letting the water cascade down his back, rinsing away the grime.

Around two hours later, Jack sat slumped on his couch, the room dimly lit by the glow of the TV. The low sounds of a porn scene played in the background, but his mind was barely focused on the screen. His head rested back against the couch, his eyes half-lidded as he worked his hand around himself, having slipped out of his sweatpants. This was his way of letting off steam after a week like the one he’d just had.

It was routine by now—something easy, quick, and without the complications of dealing with a woman who might end up being clingy or demanding more than he was willing to give. This was uncomplicated, his way of zoning out and shutting off the outside world. No messy emotions, no obligations—just a quiet moment for himself.

Jack exhaled heavily, his hand moving in rhythm as the sounds from the TV filled the otherwise silent apartment. His muscles were still tired, but there was a certain release in this moment. The frustrations of the day, including the brief encounter with you, seemed distant now. This was about turning off everything for a little while—no thoughts, no stress, just the physical release he needed.

And after? He’d down the rest of his six-pack and knock out on the couch, forgetting the world entirely, at least for a few hours.

But Jack had planned it all without accounting for you. Just as he was about to finish, his stomach tightening with that familiar tension, the loud, jarring sound of a hammer hitting nails into the wall echoed through the apartment, shaking the thin wall behind his TV.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, Jack muttered, his mood immediately broken as the banging continued, louder now. He clenched his jaw, frustration boiling up again. He had been so close to just letting go of the entire day’s stress, and now this. The relentless thud of hammering kept going, pulling him completely out of the moment.

His hand stilled, and he slammed his fist against the side of the couch in frustration. Of course, he thought, it had to be the new neighbor. You were likely trying to settle in, oblivious to the fact that you were ruining what little escape he had. Jack exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face as he sat up, the mood thoroughly killed.

The hammering continued, and Jack could feel the tension in his body shifting from desire to pure annoyance. He thought about just letting it go, but every time the hammer hit, it felt like another push against his patience. Grumbling under his breath, he yanked his sweatpants back up and stood, glaring at the wall as if that would somehow stop the noise.

For a second, he considered banging on the wall in retaliation. But he knew that wasn’t going to help. Instead, he grabbed a T-shirt from the floor, pulling it over his head as he stormed toward the door.

Time to have a little chat about the noise.

Jack was beyond fucked up. His head was pounding with the frustration of being yanked out of the one bit of peace he’d managed to carve out for himself. The incessant hammering felt like a personal attack. His mind was still half-focused on the release he had been chasing, now replaced by a surge of raw anger coursing through him.

He stomped to the door, yanking it open with more force than necessary. He didn’t care anymore if he looked like a pissed-off wreck. This was supposed to be his time to unwind, to shut the world out, and here you were, ruining it without even knowing. His thoughts raced, blending his frustration with the earlier judgment he’d passed on you. Young, new neighbor—probably clueless about the noise, or just didn’t give a damn.

He crossed the hallway with long strides, already regretting not saying something earlier when you’d first made a racket. Without bothering to calm down, Jack raised his fist and banged on your door with the same intensity as the hammering that had interrupted his night.

The hammering stopped suddenly, and Jack stood there, his jaw clenched, waiting. His breathing was still heavy, fueled by the adrenaline from both the frustration and the situation he had been pulled out of. He heard footsteps approach the door, and it opened to reveal you, looking slightly surprised and flushed, probably from all the effort of settling in. You still had that slightly frazzled look, your hair in a messy bun, and a hammer in hand.

“Hey, I—”, you started, but Jack cut you off before you could finish.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”. His voice was sharp, almost a growl. “I’ve had the longest fucking week, and all I wanted was to relax for once, but instead, I’ve got you hammering away like it’s a fucking championship".

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by the aggression in his tone. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”.

“Yeah, well, now you do”, Jack snapped. “Some of us don’t want to listen to that shit at this hour”.

You stood there for a second, staring at him. Then, with a deep breath, you said, “Look, I didn’t mean to bother anyone. I just moved in, and I’m trying to get this done before it gets too late. But I didn’t think it would be this loud. I can stop”.

Just then, a heavy crash echoed from inside your apartment, cutting the tense moment between you and Jack short. Both of your heads snapped toward the source of the noise—your bedroom. Your face paled as realization hit you.

“Oh no”, you whined under your breath, eyes wide in horror.

Jack leaned slightly to the side, peeking over your shoulder, and sure enough, he saw straight into your bedroom. The massive bookshelf you’d just tried to hang with nails was now lying crookedly on your bed, surrounded by scattered books and what looked like pieces of drywall that had fallen from the wall.

He stood there for a moment, staring, trying to process what he was seeing. Then, almost involuntarily, a muttered, “Are you serious?”, escaped his lips. The disbelief was clear in his tone, but there was also a flicker of amusement breaking through the anger. His lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smirk.

“You really tried hanging that… with nails?”, Jack asked, incredulous, but there was something different in his voice now—a touch of dry humor.

You flushed, your embarrassment reaching new heights as you buried your face in your hands for a moment, groaning. “I thought it would hold! I didn’t realize it was that heavy!”.

Jack huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “That thing’s massive. Nails? Really? You need anchors or brackets for something like that. Not nails”.

You glanced up at him, your embarrassment deepening, but his tone had shifted enough that you felt less defensive. He wasn’t ripping into you anymore, at least. “I didn’t think it through, clearly”, you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just… I wanted to get it done, you know?”.

Jack exhaled, still standing in your doorway, but some of the anger and tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by the undeniable ridiculousness of the situation. He crossed his arms, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced from you to the chaotic scene in your bedroom. He seemed torn between frustration and reluctant amusement, clearly trying to figure out how he got roped into this situation. After a moment, he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, “If I put that stupid bookshelf on the wall… are you actually gonna go to fucking sleep after?”.

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected offer, and despite the roughness in his tone, there was a hint of something almost… helpful? You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just resigned to the situation. Either way, you couldn’t believe he was volunteering to help after everything.

You nodded quickly, still flustered. “Yeah, absolutely. I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of the night”.

Jack rolled his eyes but stepped back into the hallway. “Fine. Let me grab my tools. I’m not doing this again tomorrow”. He shot you a look as if to say, You owe me for this, and turned back toward his apartment.

As he disappeared into his place, you stood in the doorway for a second, a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over you. This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but at least you weren’t completely on your own with the bookshelf disaster now.

A few minutes later, Jack returned with a drill, a level, and some heavy-duty wall anchors, looking every bit like the reluctant handyman he had somehow become tonight. “Alright”, he grumbled as he walked past you into your bedroom, “Let’s do this before I regret offering”.

You followed him into the room, standing awkwardly off to the side as he inspected the damage. He shook his head, muttering under his breath again. “Shit, the whole thing could’ve taken the wall down with it”.

You couldn’t help but let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah… definitely didn’t think it through”.

Jack just gave you a look before getting to work, drilling into the wall with quick efficiency. You watched in silence, half-grateful and half-embarrassed that this grumpy, tired stranger was now saving you from your own DIY disaster.

Within ten minutes, the bookshelf was back up, this time secured with proper brackets and anchors. Jack stepped back, giving it a firm tug to test its stability. “There. That’s not coming down unless you drive a truck through the wall”.

You grinned, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Thank you. Seriously”.

Jack gave a half-shrug, packing up his tools. “Just keep it quiet, alright? I wasn’t kidding about the long week”.

You nodded, grateful. “I promise. No more hammering”.

“Next time, get your damn boyfriend to do that shit before you and your furniture end up breaking through my wall”, Jack muttered, nodding toward the picture frame sitting on top of a moving box. In the photo, you were smiling alongside a tall, athletic-looking guy with his arm wrapped around you. Jack’s comment was laced with a hint of irritation, but also that same dry humor you’d been getting used to.

Your smile faltered for a moment as your eyes followed his to the photo. Little did he know, that guy in the picture wasn’t in your life anymore—and that was the whole reason you had moved into this place. The sting of your breakup surfaced briefly, the memory of catching him cheating on you still raw. You swallowed hard, quickly deciding not to let Jack in on that painful detail. It wasn’t like he needed to know, and the last thing you wanted was pity from a man who had barely tolerated your existence for the last few hours.

“I’m Jack”, he grumbled, finally acknowledging your earlier introduction. It was a reluctant gesture, his voice still rough with exhaustion, as though even saying his name was a chore. He barely looked at you as he muttered it, his eyes already shifting toward his door like he couldn’t wait to escape the interaction.

Before you could respond or even offer a polite “nice to meet you”, he was already halfway back to his apartment. The door closed with a soft click behind him, leaving you standing there in the quiet hallway, feeling the weight of everything settle on your shoulders again. His abruptness wasn’t surprising, but it still stung a little after the tense back-and-forth of the evening.

You let out a sigh, glancing back at the photo on the box. Jack, you thought, rolling his name over in your mind. He was clearly rough around the edges, quick to frustration, but at least he hadn’t been completely heartless. He’d helped with the bookshelf, after all—something he absolutely didn’t have to do.

You stood there for a moment longer, gathering your thoughts. The apartment felt quiet now, too quiet, after the chaos of the last few hours. The silence brought your mind back to why you’d moved in the first place, and without meaning to, you found yourself thinking of your ex again—how easily he'd broken your trust, how it had shattered everything you'd built together.

You shook your head, pushing the memories away. This was a new start, and you weren’t going to let thoughts of him ruin it. No more looking back.

Turning back to the room, you tidied up the last of the scattered books and straightened out the bedding. As you moved around, Jack’s gruff demeanor kept replaying in your mind—his judgmental comments, his unexpected offer of help, and the brief glimpse of amusement when the bookshelf came crashing down. You couldn’t quite pin him down, and that intrigued you in a way you weren’t expecting.

By the time you were ready to settle into bed, you found yourself glancing at the wall you shared with Jack’s apartment, half-expecting to hear some noise, but it was completely silent. You lay down, pulling the covers over you, and for the first time in a while, you felt a strange sense of calm. Despite the chaos of the night, the disaster with the bookshelf, and the awkward introduction to your grumpy neighbor, things didn’t feel quite as overwhelming as they had earlier.

Maybe this place would turn out to be a fresh start after all.

———————————

A/N: I had way too much fun writing this. This story will definitely be a multi-part one.

I guess there will be also more from Jack in the future.

Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 2

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @cheynovak @ookidoki @deans-spinster-witch @n-o-p-e-never @riah1606 @stoneyggirl2 @saintnourah

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #buddy games #jack durfy #jack durfy x reader #jack durfy x you #jack durfy x Y/N

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bluemerakis · 1 month ago

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Drabble: Butcher takes care of sick reader

Warnings: cussing, fluff

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: I’ve been under the weather lately, and I want a soft, cutesie Butcher to take care of me. That’s all :p

The apartment door creaked open, causing your eyes to flutter open as your consciousness tethered to the waking world. You blinked a few times to dislodge the disorientation of your nap, a hefty yawn splitting your lips. The door clicked closed soon after, and the sound of heavy boots thudding across the room told you all you needed to know about the identity of your visitor—not that it was a difficult guessing game; nobody other than your boyfriend ever came around to see you.

Riddled with lethargy, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Billy, a migraine weighing so heavily on your senses that you felt you’d throw up with the slightest of movements.

“‘ello, Love,” Billy chirped, the rustle of a plastic bag following shortly after. “Got yer some o’ tha’ shite chinese nosh y’love so much. Now, I know what yer thinkin’—eat first, then give good ol’ Billy one hell o’ a thank ya fuck later. Offer graciously accepted. Yer a lovely, charitable dame, Love—yer just keep on givin’.”

You smiled weakly at the sound of his voice. You’d seen him last two days ago, but within that short time, you’d already come to miss him dearly. Sickness tended to come on strong with you, always rendering you vulnerable and bedridden for the first few days, and it was sure hell to endure. This sickness in particular had come on a day ago with a bang, and honestly, you’d been struggling to cope with it. You hadn’t told Billy about it, though, knowing that he likely had bigger things to tend to with The Boys. However, you couldn’t say that you weren’t thankful for his visit.

There was something about his presence alone that boosted your body’s morale and seemed to help you bounce back quicker—it had to be some sort of mental placebo effect. No matter the reason, you were thankful to have him here with you now.

“Sadly, your English breadstick is going to have to take a rain check on that,” you told him feebly. Your stomach seized up with a series of cramps, causing you to curl into yourself with a groan as you rode out the duration of the pain.

“All right there, Love?” Billy asked as he approached you, large hand outstretched to caress along the expanse of your back. The contact sent shivers up your hot spine. “Feelin’ a tad bit under the weather, are we?” He remarked, alluding to the dampened material of the shirt that clung messily to your underlying skin.

You hummed in confirmation, brows creased and eyes falling closed as you braved the nausea that seemed to arise in conjunction with your stomach cramps. “Not a tad bit—I’m in full-fledged suffering,” you grunted.

“Have yer eaten at all today?” He asked, the hand on your back snaking up to the nape of your neck. His palm hovered over the area, his thumb rubbing comforting circles along the feverish goosebumps of your skin.

“Haven’t had an appetite,” you pushed out. The warmth of his hand against your neck was a relaxation your body subconsciously craved, and it seemed to make the cramps let up an inch.

“Have yer a sip o’ water, at least,” Billy suggested. “Just a second, and I’ll fetch yer some.”

“Thank you, Billy,” you said softly, turning your head with caution to offer him an appreciative smile. You seized the opportunity to drink in his beautiful face, staring as if to burn his image into the memory of your retinas.

“Yeah, I gotcha,” he said with wink, hand neglecting your neck as he turned toward the kitchen. You turned and allowed your head to collapse against your pillow once more, eyes closing to bask in the peace of darkness. “Yer got any ginger?” He called back to you.

“Check the fridge,” you said, then added, “why?”

“I got a killer recipe tha’ll hand nausea’s arse back to ‘er,” he said. The fridge door clanked open, followed by a satisfied grunt from Billy. “There we are,” he said.

“Just don’t poison me,” you said. “I’m suffering enough.”

“Oi, have yer some faith in me,” Billy scolded gently. “S’me mum’s recipe. Woman ne’er once went wrong with ‘er whimsy kitchen faffing. I’ll make yer tha’ shite-tasting cup o’ ginger char, and soon after, you’ll be stuffin’ yer gob with all tha’ bloody chinese.”

The atmosphere simmered into comfortable silence as Billy tended to your mystery tea, the occasional clatter of utensils keeping you from drifting into another sleep. It wasn’t long before he was back at your aid, a gentle thud occurring atop the bedside table beyond your back, followed by the more shrill clink of a glass. You glanced over your shoulder and glimpsed the mug of ginger tea, as well as a cold, sweaty glass of water beside it.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

Billy cocked his chin at you. “Shimmy up,” he ordered.

“I could do that, but if you get whatever nasty thing I’ve got, I don’t wanna hear a single world about it,” you said.

“Don’t yer worry, Love, I’ll have me a good weepin’ of the eyes, then a good wank or two, and I’ll be right as rain after.” He leaned onto the bed, prompting you to shift yourself forward to make space for his broad frame. He manoeuvred about the mattress a few times as he moulded his body to the contours of yours, forming the large, comforting spoon you’d been craving in his absence. “Blimey, have yer got all o’ bleedin’ hell shoved up yer ass? Yer burnin’ up,” he remarked.

“Tell me about it,” you scoffed weakly.

Billy’s one arm slipped between the mattress and the nook of your neck, while the other curled around your waist to hold you against him. His lips pressed against your hair, hovering there for a few seconds before he withdrew to place his chin atop your head. You melted into his hold and his scent, a content breath easing from your nostrils.

“I’ve missed you,” you told him.

“Afraid I know the feelin’ all too well, Love,” he murmured against you, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated against the crown of your head. “Shoulda called to check in with yer sooner.”

You gave a disapproving noise. “You don’t have to worry about me every second of the day. I love you, but I’ll survive a day or two without you from time to time.” You probably wouldn’t, if you were honest with yourself. You’d barely been hanging on as of recently.

“Bloody liar, y’are,” he poked, his hand on your waist shifting to stroke along the sensitive skin of your stomach. “I know you’ve been craving me touch these last two days. Yer absolutely can’t live without it—and don’t yer get the ‘alf the mind to deny it, else I’ll give yer a punctual reminder.” His hand trailed down your stomach and toward your panties, where his fingers teased at the rim suggestively.

You sucked air at his motions, lower lip taken into a playful bite. “You sure as hell do make it tempting to play stupid,” you said, turning to glance at him through a grin.

Billy’s lips spread in a smirk before he leaned forward to impose a rough kiss on your lips. You savoured the taste of his lips, and the ever present underlying trace of cigar smoke, which you’d come to tolerate only because of the constant exposure via his frequent company. Once he pulled away, he moved to hover over your ear.

“Tell yer what—you get better f’me, Love, and I promise I’ll give tha’ stomach o’ yers a real rearrangement to fuss ‘bout, yeah? Sound like a solid plan?”

“Deal.”

Thank you for reading! All likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated. ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @scrmqwn

Comment/message me to be added to/removed from the tag list for any future Billy Butcher works!

Other works: The Boys Masterlist

#mera’s drabbles ·˚ ༘ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈#mera’s masterlist 𓏲੭ ˎˊ˗#billy butcher #the boys #billy butcher brainrot go brr #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x you #karl urban #billy butcher fic #billy butcher fanfic #billy butcher imagines #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher fluff

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tbhyknow · 2 months ago

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𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 !

summary, after overworking yourself pass your usual hours to handling your unit and preparing for a big event, you ended up sleeping while hanging out with them.

featuring, mayoi ayase, arashi nakurami && ibara saegusa w/ gender-neutral!reader (romantic, separate)

tags, established relationship, all fluff no angst, headcanons, ooc

notice, first enstars post yippie 🎉 taking a break from grinding so much for the spider halloween event.. reader is a producer if it wasn't obvious.. highkey ooc?? esp for ibara, as much as i love him, i suck at writing characters like him huhu

— m. ayase

the two of you were baking in the dorm's kitchen when you suddenly passed out. just a few hours ago, you had proposed to mayoi to spend the day off with each other and decided baking something would be nice.

after all, after a hectic week of working yourself to the bone, what's a better way to spend the day than hanging out with your beloved boyfriend?

mayoi, at first, was cautious. he had been watching you veryy closely (and he's absolutely sorry-not-sorry for doing that) for pasy few days and noticed your signs of exhaustion. but still, he couldn't resist accepting your date idea when you begged him so desperately.

mayoi stared down at the mixture he's been mixing for a couple minutes, his brow furrowed in uncertainty. is he 100% sure this is how it's supposed to look?

then, mayoi turned around to face you. "uhmm... (name), could you— eek!" just as he did, he had witness your body collapse, hitting the floor with an extremely loud and audible thud that rang through the kitchen like a big bang. mayoi's face turned pale as he immediately ran up to your spot and kneeled down, checking you thoroughly.

his hands were stained with cookie batter, but he couldn't care less at this point and rolled you on your back. he put your head on his lap, pushing your hair out of your face to only be greeted by your peaceful, sleeping expression. he carefully felt your pulse on your neck and immediately let out a sigh of relief when he felt soft thumping under the pads of his fingers.

mayoi sighed, "thank god... you're just unconscious, i don't know what i would've done if you..." he stared down at you again, caressing your cheek. at any other situation, he would've found your sleeping face cute, but the guilt of agreeing to do this with you even when you're exhausted was chewing him up.

he immediately got cleaning up the mess you two made and hurried you to the infirmary. after the nurse was done checking you and confirming it was just exhaustion and stress and not anything serious, he was left alone to sit by your side and wait for you to wake up.

throughout it all... mayoi was nervous. the intrusive thoughts are coming to his head, making up scenarios that your condition became serious and had put you in a coma... he knew it wasn't going to happen, but the thought terrified him still.

when you woke up, mayoi immediately got on his hands and knees and apologized to you with genuine tears. it's gonna take a while for him to calm down...

"i-i'm sorry! i was aware you were overworked a-and yet i still made you bake w-with me! i'm an awful and pathetic person, i don't deserve your forgiveness!"

"m-mayoi, i said it's fine... c'mon, get up.."

— a. narukami

arashi finally got a day off from idol work and modelling, so she decided it would be fun to tag you along for shopping! it's been so long since she has been able to do some retail therapy, but it's much more longer since the two of you gotten on a date and it was starting to irritate her.

even if you were tired from handling your unit and trying to keep them out of trouble or paying the consequences of their stupid decisions, you still accepted the offer because you missed her a lot as well! you can handle to stay awake for a couple more hours, right?

... right?

arashi finished zipping up the dress and after doing a couple of practice twirls, she stepped out of the dressing room in an elegant and stylish manner fitting for the outfit she's trying on.

"(name), darling, what do you think? should i get it or not?" she spun around once more, showing off a full 360 of her look. when she didn't hear your voice praising her or doing commentary, she took a good look of your slumping figure and noticed that you had fallen asleep.

"oh dear," she chuckled, finding the way your head keeps flicking whenever you hunched too far cute. she sighed and shook her head, "you really should know better than overworking yourself, whatever should i do with you?" then, she walked up to you and tapped you on the shoulder, "come on, let's go home and do a spa day instead!"

when you grumbled something akin to a protest, she merely tutted and kissed your forehead. "mhm, whatever you say, dear. let me change back first and we'll head home, okay?"

"mmmgh... okay.."

true to her words, when you two arrived back, she immediately began setting the things up and prepared all the necessities for a spa day.

facemask? check. her favorite scented candles? check. the two of you in fluffy white robes, sipping on some tea with your feet deep in a bucket of warm water and epsom salt and your favorite drama playing on the tv? check, check and check.

arashi made sure your sitting arrangement is as comfortable ss possible, and frequently checked on you to see if you're in deep sleep. once the time is up, she'll gently shook you awake to let you know and cleaned up the place before bringing you down on the couch for a cuddle.

"i love you, (name), so please don't do that again, okay? i won't scold you right now since you need to rest more, but next time know your limits please. overworking is bad for your health."

— i. saegusa

it was rare for ibara to come back home for a day off. apparently, he was urged by his unit members to take a break and spend some time with his lover aka you, especially since the event is over now, and he had finished months worth of work in one sight.

although, it didn't take the rest of eden long to convince him to go home as he was already prepared to come back to your arms. after all, distance brings fondness and oh does he yearns for you.

he arrived at your apartment in a timely mannera and while his appearance is poised as usual, there was a slight element in his body language that told you he hurried his way back. he never been this ipatient.

there was time to go out for a date, but the two of you lacked the energy to even step out and interact with the world after a hellish week. ibara came rushing to you and spooning you in his arms.

"— it was hard to pull in the reigns on that problem child, but thankfully he seemed to understand and followed my instructions this time around... oh, i'll surely miss that part of him now that this event is over." ibara sighed, playing with a strand of your hair and twirling it between his fingers.

then, he shook his head, choosing to forget about his stressful week and focused on you now. this is the limited times he's able to see you outside of work and he didn't want to talk your ear off about every miniscule thing that has happened the previous days. he wanted to focus on you and you only for now.

"moving on. what about you, my dear? anything interesting happened to you?" he asked, waiting for an answer. he waited, and waited, assuming your silence was just you thinking about what to say. yet you still continue to be silent, confusing him and worrying him slightly.

"(name) dear?" he looked down at your face and relaxed immediately, making a sound of acknowledgement as he found you fast asleep in his arms. he chuckled, shaking his head gently. he said nothing more and joined you in your sleep.

even if the whole conversation he had with you was mostly one-sided, he's still glad he could spend his time with you. when you woke up from your nap, he had put a blanket over you and let you rest on the couch.

he even went out of his way to prepare food for the two of you, just in case you woke up hungry. the table was set nicer and better than you could ever done, and the food looked and smelled like heaven.

"hm? you're finally awake, i see. come, i've prepared us dinner, won't you join me? then, after this, let's talk some more. you still haven't told me how your week went, after all."

notice, leave a like, comment or reblog if you liked the hcs! it helps me a lot, ty^^

#sasha's works .ᐟ #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #mayoi ayase x reader #arashi narukami x reader #ibara saegusa x reader

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tvgals · 1 year ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ NO NUT NOVEMBER? I HARDLY KNOW HER!

awkward! gojo x black! boss! reader

— when staying after work during no nut november, awkward! gojo ends the month with a bang…

gojo was at his desk typing away at his computer, subconsciously ignoring the strain against his pants. gojo hadn’t touched himself in a month, him and a few of his friends doing a stupid ass nnn challenge. gojo was an idiot for accepting the challenge, knowing that almost everyday when he’d go home he’d stroke his dick to the thought of you, his boss. some days your tits would pop out of the top of your shirts, your ass poking out of the bottom of your skirts anytime you bent down to pick up a pen you dropped or a document, all the men in the office thirsted over your fat pussy lips on display.

“ah! hello satoru, what are you doing here so late?” you teasingly ask, walking up to him. “oh! i just-i just had to take care of some documents i forgot about!” gojo stammered, his eyes glued to his computer because he knows that if he looks up at you, his erection will be even more painful. “i see.” you nod, walking behind gojo, slowly trailing your acrylics along his shoulders, your tits pressing against the back of his head. “you’re doing such a good job.” you praise the ivory haired man, rubbing circles along his back. “thank you ma’am…” gojo sighs out, peering down at his dick, the blood flowing faster than ever.

“mhm. i’ll be in my office if you need anything, make sure to knock first.” you smirk, walking away. gojo heaved a sigh and slumped down in his seat, unzipping his pants. i mean, he could tug one right here and now. you were in your office, and gojo heard you locking the door. so if he were to get off to the thought of you in the office, you wouldn’t know. gojo unzipped his pants and shimmied them down a bit, his cock hitting just at his belly button with a thud. he groans, slapping a hand over his mouth with the other works at his cock. “shit shit shit.” gojo moaned, muffled by his hand. you were in your office scrolling away on instagram, your other hand digging around in a bag of chips. you decided it was time for gojo to head home for the night, he’d been working hard the whole week, it was only fair to give him a break.

you stood up and opened your door, your heels clacking against the tile floor. your face scrunched up in confusion as you heard meek moans and whines. you slowly converted into a smile, walking up to gojo as he stroked his dick even faster. “ah satoru, what am i going to do with you?” you tut mockingly, gojo immediately letting go of his dick and looking up at you with puppy eyes. “no no! it isn’t what it looks like, promise!” gojo cried out, trying to pull his pants back up. in a swift motion, you pull your leg up and pin gojo’s dick to his stomach with the toe of your heel. “oh shit!” gojo chokes out a strangled moan.

“now who do you think you are getting off in my office?” you snarl, putting more pressure onto his dick. “i’m sorry, ma’am! i just n-needed- i just needed relief!” gojo cried, fat tears streaming down his face. “my stupid little employee, what ever will i do with you?” you coo, retracting your foot from his dick. you hiked your skirt up and pulled your panties down, letting them fall to your ankles before stepping out of them. “w-what are you doing?..” gojo whispers, his eyes glued to your thighs. “teaching you a lesson. however will you learn to not touch yourself in my building?” you ask, unbuttoning your blouse to let your tits pop out freely. gojo’s breath starts to become more heavy and dense.

“i’m so- sorry! please ma’am, i’ll never come back!” gojo pleaded, his hands gripping at the handles of his chair. “oh no, you can stay as much as you want. it’s when you get too much free will, that’s my problem with you.” you say, staring into gojo’s eyes. you make your way in from of him, grasping his dick and slowly sinking down. gojo hisses and bucks his hips up involuntarily. “i’m sorry ma’am..” gojo whines, throwing his head back. you respond with a moan once you make it to the base. “feel so good already…” you laugh airily. gojo start breathing heavier and heavier, curling his toes in his work shoes. you open gojo’s computer and skim through a few documents, slowly rolling your hips onto his. “ah, satoru. these documents are all wrong!” you sigh out, now bouncing up and down onto his dick.

“‘m sorry, ma’am..i’m trying..” gojo whined, moving a hand to grab the fat of your hip. “apparently not hard enough.” you mumble to yourself, bringing gojo’s other hand that was grasping his chair to pinch your nipple. “doing so good f’me baby..” you mewl, trying to keep focused on the documents. “thank you so much..been thinking about this for years almost…all th-this time i’ve worked here…always had my..my eyes on you.” gojo admitted, you still bouncing on his cock. “you had all of these chances, satoru. what happened?” you ask, deleting all of gojo’s hard work. “was scared…i d-didn’t know how to talk to you…” gojo said, feeling his high approaching. you giggled to yourself, the gojo who barely talked to people at work and who often ate lunch alone in his car wanted you.

“i see..” you mumble, the feeling of satoru’s tip hitting your cervix becoming too much. “‘m gonna cum! please ma’am!” gojo practically screamed, arching his back. “give it to me, baby. cmon.” you coax gojo, feeling his hand move from your tit and to start vigorously rubbing your clit. you moaned out at the extra stimulation, feeling yourself let go. “shit- pl-please keep cumming..” gojo whined, slamming his cock upwards into you. gojo came with a whine, both of his hands gripping at your hips.

“g-good boy..” you praised gojo, loving the way his dick twitched inside of you. “t-thank you ma’am..” gojo cries out, feeling you stand up off of his dick. “don’t mention it.” you sigh out. “here, wear these tomorrow. i’ll check.” you demand, throwing your black lacy panties at him, walking back to your office. gojo nodded silently and turned back to his computer, his eyes widening at all the work that was lost by you. looks like he’ll have to stay later tomorrow.

TAGLIST —

@looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @chinaza444 @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ts1mp0ne @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @spiderheartzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @yuckyygutz @janaeby @milesmoralesesposa @lily-pythonz @naijagrl @ninaaaazzzz @sucuretcannelle @captaincyberqueen @cafehyunji @gtsflawless @v1rtu4lsworld

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anantaru · 1 year ago

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DAY 14 —YANDERE CORRUPTION

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

a/n. the albedo one got quite long and i adore how i wrote him there, i will definitely write a separate fic on this version of him in the future, enjoy!

𖧡 — including — lyney, albedo

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, angsty, yan! genshin men & manipulative genshin men, possessive, albedo without emotions, unhealthy behavior, unprotected syx, nipple play/tit play

𖧡 — LYNEY

lyney strangulates the sweltering tension linked on your bodies when he towers on top of you— and he proceeds slowly when he leans into your ear, certainly impressed that his calculations were proven to be right once again.

"i knew you'd come back to me." he breathes out a laugh, that for some reason harbored deep parallelisms to horridity, the tiny hairs around the back of your neck standing tall when you realize that, yes, quite frankly, you had returned to him even after you originally forced yourself to leave him behind.

with a planted kiss on your forehead, lyney steadies both hands around your thighs before feeling up your glistening pussy, his cock head roughing up and down your naked folds, leisurely gathering your arousal on his shaft to mock this situation more notably— the way you were already soaked without much required touches of him only further proved his point.

his rasping groans were continuously deepening but glimmered with an added pitchy timbre, yet were certainly nothing in comparison to the heavenly whines and whimpers you had hoped you'd be able to keep hidden in your chest.

"no, no, no," he mutters, distraught, and you flinch when he prods his rosy tip over your slit to make you sob at him, yet he still wouldn't move himself inside. "you need to be vocal with me, okay?" clearly, you weren't capable to see the danger of the situation, and it's ominously lurking like a frightening shadow on top of you, manifesting in the darkness of his eyes— his pupils lost on the brilliant twinkle around them that you originally fell in love with, his light bangs sticking to his forehead when he, at last, slides himself inside your cunt.

you toss your head into the pillows when he penetrates you, your legs instantly clinging around his waist as he fucks into the solidity of your slit, eagerly awaiting your noises whilst suffocating his own.

lyney cannot be louder than you right now, he had to hear you first— now, that your pussy was so tightly wrapped around his dripping cock, a brew of your arousal and his white pre trickling down his balls and seeping onto the silken bedsheets, staining the clean linen.

you drawl out the bundling moans in your throat all shakily as he carries on to pistol his thudding erection into you, the squelching noises only growing louder by now, buzzing through the darkened room as you lose any form of possible regret in you— his hands continuously tightening around your hips, lusting after wanting to feel more of you, the growing yearn for you, especially of how you're clamping down on his shaft and taking him like a second skin, sucking his length in as he grinds at the spongy patches on your sweet spots.

"that’s right, keep showing me how you feel, baby," lyney groans into your lips, eyes glazed with lust, "because— ah, fuck, you know i need to hear it." and you don't answer him with words, far too embarrassed that it had gotten to this point again, instead huffing out a pitchy weep, being unable to hear anything besides the ever-growing slap,slap,slap of your bodies colliding against each other, finding the skin so effortlessly well as lyney leans into your neck to meet your shoulder, mouthing over the wet spots before reaching your ear at last.

"because you know i'll never be able to let you go."

𖧡 — ALBEDO

"oh, when you look at me like that, my darling, what did you expect?"

with infinite tenderness, albedo kisses your chest after speaking with a weary resignation enlaced around his words, directly taking notice of the rapid thuds behind your ribcage— you're nervous, hanging on every word he said and each move he made.

the soothing trace of his lips prancing on your skin ignited the nerves of your body— the tranquil look on your soft features signalizing such, not to mention your high-lifting noises all together pulled his soul back inside of him, his cheeks bathing in a valentine-red when you squeeze your hips into his groin.

it makes albedo tilt his head with a small smile dancing on his face, all whilst his sunny, kind expression was silently melting off as his focused gaze shadows over your tied hands pushed above your head— an experiment, he might add, something he had originally proposed to you a while back, and thankfully you did give him your agreement to it, a shimmering layer of your sweat touching up your forehead as your breath stammers inside of you the moment he rolls the flat of his tongue over your nipples.

"i noticed—" he stops in midst his sentencing, his hot breath tickling the wet spots on your breasts before he hums to himself, "you like my usage of alternative names for you, am I correct?" he wraps his mouth around your tit before hollowing his cheeks whilst your heels dug into the mattress due to the sheer roughness of it— it's not like it doesn't feel nice, but it appears as if there was no sort of emotion webbed into his handle on your frame, yet your back arches like a bow despite your worry as he traps your nipple between his lips, all the while suckling harder until he lets it go with a loud 'pop'.

you paw around his soft locks before softening your fingers inside his hair, half-lidded eyes unable to ponder around the continues red flags ringing across your entire nervous system, "yes.." you huff out, his calculated ministrations coaxed twitch after twitch from your body, "it.. feels nice to hear it."

you're already so sensitive albedo cannot believe it, besides, he hasn't even laid his fingers on you that much— your soaked cunt was still untainted for the night, although fluttering around nothing but air and practically awaiting him bare and open.

"i will remember that." he says, stoic, and he always did, the most important tool in his life being knowledge and understanding more, understanding you or humans for that matter— just as during his experiments, you so happen to be of perfect help to him, your tits also always so extra reactive when albedo had them inside his hot mouth fusing his saliva with your fluids, it makes you shiver beyond any repair when he digs his tongue against the perky nipple while holding the other breast in his hand, perceiving the immediate kindness and obedience of your returning touch.

with the drawn out foreplay, you're on the brink of a sharp edge, bracing yourself before tangling your hands further into his silken hair, "albedo," you mutter, a blazing heat pummeling on top of your cheeks as his gaze meets yours instantly, "c-can you kiss me again?"

it's silent for a second, yet it felt like an eternal state of being before he props himself up by his hands and curves one palm around your cheeks, moving closer, his facial expression not showing much but he slants against you so close that your lips almost brush against each other, even though they ultimately didn't.

"for what matter?" he asks, and his question seemed genuine, almost as if he was only waiting to receive an answer and write it down somewhere, so he can further study human emotions and perhaps even copy some samples and integrate them in his life, to appear more normal, like he was a mortal being with functioning feelings.

"no reason at all." you bite back a whimper when his grip on you suddenly tightens a little, but then ultimately softens again, pushing himself off your body before resting his weight on his knees, keeping himself slotted in between your quivering thighs— the outlines of his growing erection were obviously drawn on his pants, his chest exposed with his shirt lazily dangling around his shoulders, his skin glimmering golden with no ounce of imperfections in sight.

"i must decline," the man coughs out into his fist, and you can feel the growing awkwardness inside of your chest but also the increase of irritation as to why he was removing himself all of a sudden. for whatever reason, you brace yourself again to ask him, instantaneously covering your naked chest before propping yourself up by your elbows and tilted your head to the side.

"why?"

"—that would give off the assumption, based on books I've read," he stammers, but quickly recollects himself, "that we are harboring some kind of romantic feelings for each other, which, is not the case."

—at least from my side."

your heart sinks into your chest at the realization of what his words truly meant— wow, who would’ve thought? even after all the countless situations you had aided him in his research, have even given him your body to continue his work and sometimes looked after him when he would forget to do so himself— only to be met with the bitterly cold, numbing feeling which was referred to as reality that the man in front of you, albedo, the chief alchemist, had no single sense of human emotions inside his body, besides the ones he acted out spontaneously, almost too perfectly, to make himself fit in.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #lyney x reader #lyney smut #albedo x reader #albedo smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #lyney x you #albedo x you #genshin drabbles #kinktober #genshin impact drabbles

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agi-ppangx · 1 year ago

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🎄CHRISTMAS EVE WITH BANG CHAN🎄

mini series masterlist

the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies made its way through your apartment as you were looking for your jewellery to complete the outfit. you had less and less time to find it - chan and you were supposed to leave for the dinner with his parents any minute now.

“baby?” you heard your boyfriend’s voice from the living room. you hummed, rummaging through your vanity table, and soon after you noticed chan enter your bedroom. “you ready? we should leave soon,” he said, leaning on the doorframe. you huffed at his words.

“i know, i just-” you whined, closing the drawer with a loud thud. “-i can’t find my earrings.” chan smiled at you softly, taking a step into your direction. he wrapped his arms around your back, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed neck.

“are you nervous?” he whispered, swaying both of you from side to side.

you stayed silent for a moment. of course you were nervous, you were supposed to finally meet his parents after all. you wanted to make a good first impression, hoping that they’d accept you. you really loved chan, thinking seriously about your future, so his parents’ approval was madly important to you.

“i just don’t want to let you down,” you finally mumbled, playing with your bracelet. chan chuckled and squeezed your waist.

“baby, they’re gonna love you, trust me,” he responded, placing one more kiss on your head. “you have nothing to worry about. also-” he added. “-your earrings are in the bathroom. i’ll get them for you.”

when he came back to the bedroom he stood right in front of you, reaching out and putting the golden loops in your ears. chan’s touch was gentle and he was smiling the whole time.

“there you go. you look stunning, baby. but now come on, we gotta go,” he rushed you playfully, making his way to the kitchen to pack the still warm cookies. you exhaled loudly, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror and smiled softly at your appearance.

you walked up to the wardrobe, taking out all of the gifts you’d bought for chan’s parents and him as well. still nervous but also excited, you walked out of the bedroom to put on your coat and hopefully become a part of chan’s family.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz au #stray kids fluff #skz bang chan #bang chan fanfic #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan

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princesssmars · 2 months ago

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yet again vi stumbles onto your doorstep, and yet again you can't turn her away.

youd never seen her until she moved into the apartment next to yours a few weeks back, sloppily dyed hair and melancholy face drawing your attention faster than you'd like to admit.

you'd heard her through the walls sometimes, the distinct clinking of bottles and thudding of relentless training on a punching bag.

the first time she'd interacted with you was when you were tiredly coming in after a long day at work, the woman drunkely stumbling up the stairs and letting out a rather loud wolf whistle. You decided to ignore it with a roll of your eyes until you heard the sounds of stumbling and cursing, turning around to see she'd fallen flat on her face as soon as the sound stopped coming out of her mouth.

obviously, being an extremely good person, you helped the wobbly woman into your apartment and forced her to dit down on your toilet seat while you got out some med supplies to patch up the scratch on her cheek. her eyes wer droopy as you wiped at the scar, barely flinching at the alcohol you put on the wound.

"janna, how much alcohol do you have in you?"

"hmmmmm just enough to have a good night."

"i wouldnt call immediately eating shit after catcalling someone a good night, vi."

"how'd'you know my name?"

"its written on your face, sweetheart."

maybe you shouldnt have been such a good person, because now this brute has stuck herself to you side. whenever she has a injury from wherever she gets them from, she bangs her fist on your door and blinks at your annoyed form until you begrudgingly let her in to fix her up.

she's not the worst, at least when shes not drunk out of her mind. you ask about why after tour first meeting she marked over the tattoo on her face, or the alcohol problem, something youre accustomed to in zaun but uncommon to see in someone still so young, but she just grumbles and shrugs off the questions. eventually you manage to worm out of her that someone close to her used to make really good drinks. you dont ask any more about it.

soon enough she finally decides to let you in on whats causing all these mysterious bumps and scrapes on her bidy, inviting you down to the fighting pits to watch her have a go. you figure if she's not dead yet she must be pretty good and damn is she good. you're slightly grateful that she does in fact have the brawn to back up that short tempered brain of hers, taunting her opponents before knocking them out in less than a minute.

maybe you can see why she was so conifent when catcalling you. just maybe.

shes still closed off but open to talking to you the more time you spend together, spending the night at yours more than once and finally seeming to calm in your presence, the neon flashing lights outside bring out the shapes and lines of her face as she stares at your ceiling above. being such a good neighbor you even sneak into her apartment one day and help clean up just a little bit. she didnt bring it up but the next time you needed to patch her up you opened your cabinet to see a bran new medkit.

but then like a switch is flicked she starts on a downward spiral, spending more and more time at the bar after her wins at the bar and having to get helped on her feet to get back into her apartment. seeing a nasty cut running down her arm during one of these trips you try to switch the woman from her friend over to you before she growls and rushes into her apartment, slamming the door in both of your faces.

you look to the man in silence. he only has a sad look on his face, shaking his head before heading back down the stairs.

you dont see her again for another ewweeks, until you hear the telltalesound of her falling on her ass outsie the door. you press you ear up against the door to hear what she does and start to get worried when she makes no noises. sneakily as you can, you undo your door locks and open your door to see what shes doing, only to see that sloppily dyed hair still laying on the ground, bottle clutched in one hand as her other forearm rests over her eyes.

you let out a full body sigh and internally reprimand yourself for starting to give a shit about someone before going into 'on' mode and hauling her into your apartment, which was definitely no small task. she doesnt fight you as you struggle to lift her up. you dont know ifits because shes familiar to the feel of your hands or too sloshed to worry about whos handling her. you can only stomp down the worry as you get to work.

you throw away the empty bottle, seatting at her hand that unconsciously reaches for it. when she glares at you you struggle the urge to throw her ass in the shower and turn on the chilled water, but decide thats bit the best route of action tonight. you manage to make her drink some water from the sink, take off her boots and jacket and plop down onto your bed. you rally wished youd saved up enough for a pull-out couch.

just when you turn away to put up her jacket and prepare something for you both to eat her hand locks into a grip on yours, large bruised and callused palm completely encircling your wrist as she weakly tugs you back towards her. you slowly sit back down and sit still as her head rubs into the side of your leg. the neon lights keep flashing as she visibly struggles with something before opening her eyes. the room flashes red, then purple, then blue and her hand grips yours tighter.

"'m sorry."

"its fine, vi. just fall asleep."

#see. see what i did there.#i know the self hate gonna go crazy today lets goooooo #but lets not #arcane #arcane x reader #vi #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x reader angst

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keikiri-kitten · 2 years ago

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IT’S YOU THAT I ADORE ★ LEON KENNEDY

leon x reader, late 30’s/early 40’s leon, early 20’s reader, smut adjacent, angst, fluff, addressing leon’s drinking habit

Leon swore on any pure thing left on this Earth that he found a good thing in the one who took a chance on him, the old man.

Your smile ignited his heart; the flames warmed him up to the idea of a world filled with hope and promise. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He could actually anticipate the sound of your laugh in the morning and dig his fingertips into your flesh when he hugs you. Your kisses drive him wild and your sprite-like spirit makes him feel twenty seven again. Twenty one even.

He appreciates your willingness to stick besides him despite his stubborn nature. One that hasn’t changed since he was a rookie In Raccoon city. Leon’s a stubborn man in many aspects and the main one? Keeping you safe from any unsavory parts of him.

Alcohol was nothing short of a hobby with Leon and when he gets wasted, he’d come home late. The both of you could nearly count on him stumbling in at one in the morning with liquor on his breath as he finally begins to sober up. Nights like that make him choose to sleep on the couch. He won’t take off his clothes, he’ll sleep in an upright position with his head hanging on the back of the couch. Truly using his best judgment.

By the morning, he’s sober and can find you either staring at him pitifully in love or getting your day ready as you let him continue to rest. It’s usually like that when he gets wasted. Though that’s only how he perceives nights like this.

He doesn’t think about how you wake up in the middle of the night to hear him barging in. He doesn’t realize that you understand why he confides in a flask. Though what he doesn’t realize is that you wished he’d come to bed. No matter how much commotion he causes. You wish he’d be vulnerable in every aspect. You hope he knows you are in love with him for the good, bad and ugly he had to offer.

It’s the same kind of night tonight; Leon is stumbling in with a better sense of self awareness than what he had a couple of hours ago. You’re rocked awake from the sound, hearing him shuffle to the couch.

You hear him swear after a small thud, knowing that he banged his toe on what most likely was the couch. It causes you to shift in the bed that you two are supposed to share. This time was going to be different. You’ll get to catch him before he falls asleep. Pushing your tired body out of the bed, you tug the heavy duvet behind you until you’re peeking out from the door frame.

It’s easy to spot Leon who’s taken a similar position as always on the couch. He’s sitting up, limbs spread all over the couch and his eyes are hunting all over you. It’s obvious you startled him. A familiar black leather jacket and ragged boots are placed by the loveseat to leave the man in a dingy navy blue t-shirt and black jeans. His eyes roll while he scolds himself for waking you up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he starts. His words are slightly slurred but his intentions are near sober. “Go back to sleep.”

“Leon, come to bed.” You tiredly coo, never minding the shameful look on his face. “I want you in bed with me.”

“I smell like alcohol. You don’t need to smell that…” he tries, sitting up as he continues to ramble off reasons to leave you be. “I’m sure you’re pissed with me for coming in late, waking you up.”

He’s talking but you’re not registering anything he’s saying. Your feet shuffle towards the older man, watching his body become tense. A hand of yours grips the blanket tighter in your fist. Out of instinct, his hands reach out for your hips, allowing you to fall in his hands. That and he longed for your touch.

As you begin to straddle his legs, he grips your hips and pulls you in close. Your face meets his chest, missing the sound of his heartbeat. Leon is stunned at first but he regains composure and takes the duvet from you and covers the both of you with it.

“I don’t care that you’re coming home late. I know how hard it is. I see it on you… I smell it on you,” you whisper. “I just want you to come home to me and not the couch. I love you.”

It was sudden but under the comfort of the cover, you could feel a strong hold wrap around you. Leon’s secure hold made you sigh out in comfort. With one arm wrapped around your waist and his other hand caressing the back of your head, he rests his cheek on the top of your head. “I love you too.”

“How can you sleep like this?” You ask.

“I can sleep just fine, doll face.” He mutters, shushing you, kissing your temple.

Your head slowly lifts off of Leon’s body to meet his eyes. The searing blue ached for your attention. They flickered between your eyes and lips. They have age to them; his eyes are hooded over and they’re accessorized with crows feet and bags from stress.

The hand behind your head drops to your neck as it brings your face closer to his. He didn’t have the intention of kissing you, it would have been tasteless. However with the pound of your heart increasing the longer he kept his eyes on you, you took it upon yourself to dress his lips in your kiss.

Leon stutters within the kiss for a brief moment as if he were about to object. Though your willingness to make him feel comfortable made his body sink deeper into the couch and his chest fall. Kissing you back, his kisses were damn near bruising. He secured your face against his with that grip on your waist almost piercing you.

It was only when he could feel your hands loosely drape around his neck that he tensed up so he could at least try to keep you against a sturdy surface. His hand that kept your kiss pressed against his lips traced to your cheek, naturally causing you to tilt your head in the palm of his hand. His lips grazed from your lips and over your jaw and down your neck with gentle kisses. You could feel the stubble on his jaw tickle at your skin.

The tip of his nose trails along your neck while he adorns you with kisses. “Leon,” you tiredly breathe out, knowing what he’s trying to get out of you.

That rough grip he has on your waist drops to snake his fingertips underneath the shirt of his you wore to bed. He wouldn’t speak, but he was obedient. It hurt to try and pull away his lips from you. They found their way back to yours in a last ditch effort for you to change your mind. They don’t kiss you but ghost over your lips. “I want you,” he mutters.

“Maybe when you’re completely sober we can talk about it, hm? I can make your hangover easier,” you tease, sending him a smile.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I keep my promises, Kennedy.” You chirp, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Leon smiles. Truly.

He knows that he’s comfortable with sleeping sitting up, but he wouldn’t dare let you sleep in such a way. He adjusts your bodies to lay down on the cushions of the couch. All you could do is cozy into the firmness of his chest. “Now you can sleep. You’ve got me feeling like an ass having you sleep on the couch.”

Snorting, you shake your head. “Goodnight, Leon.”

“Good night, beautiful.”

#leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy angst #leon fluff #leon angst #residentevilbirdie #resident evil leon #resident evil x reader #residentbirdie #leon scott kennedy #Leon Drabble

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catiuskaa · 1 year ago

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this close to begging

SUMMARY: an angsty tension formed out of pent-up feelings. a mix of alcohol, changbin and you might find just the way of solving it.

WC: 1.6k

CW: swearing, angsty feelings, drinking, drunk oral sex (f rec.), mentions of degradation and size kink, use of nicknames: bubs, my love, bunny, recreational use of pussydrunk!changbin because I say so, why not, and I think that’s all, folks! (pls tell me if I missed anything!)

TAGGING! @ur-boyfiends-reading, from a fellow seolar <3 hope you like it! (feel no pressure at all if it isn’t your kind of thing tho)

[◾️☆💠☆◾️]

You hadn’t meant it. Of course you hadn’t.

You had been fed up with everyone’s bullshit in the past week. Dealing with the cons of dating an idol was usually fine, but added to the recent stress in your minimum-wage job, with your boss constanltly prancing around and making everyone’s mood so fucking crispy, roaming and firing people in several departments— including yours.

Let’s just say you weren’t in your best of days. Or… weeks.

And Changbin, well, you hadn’t had the heart to tell him just yet. Or to talk. Much to your and his despair, his schedule had also been against you seeing each other. Always full to the brim. Packed to the infinity.

You had barely seen him the past week. Maybe even the one before, which didn’t help at all with your current exhaustion.

Still, it wasn’t an excuse for the argument that stroke between both of you. You couldn’t point out who or what had started it, but the tension made the focal point of the loud discussion change.

“Leave me the fuck alone for a minute, okay!? You’re always clinging to me like a desperate little bitch.”

You froze, hands slightly trembling after those lies came out of your mouth. You hadn’t meant it, at all. You loved your smol little cuddly Binnie. You loved how you would usually wake up with his hands beneath your shirt as he pampered your face and neck with kisses, his hair messy and fluffy and his face puffy from sleep. You couldn’t figure in your head how that sentence had come off. You couldn’t understand it.

Still, for both his and your sanity, you had moved from your shared bed to the first floor, and locked yourself inside the guest’s room, which was never really used by anyone else than the rest of the members whenever they wanted to stay the night.

After you entered the spare room, you heard a ruffle of sorts and then the loud slam of the main door closing.

And since then, a couple of hours had passed.

You didn’t have the heart to text or apologize. You wouldn’t know where to start, and being honest, you weren’t sure he was going to forgive you. In your mind, that was totally plausible and justifiably so.

Where could Changbin gone? Your chest tightened, not daring to get out. What if he had left to stay elsewhere? No, Chan would’ve texted you.

Right?

You sighed, slowly banging your head against the door behind you, feeling the guilt spread through your body.

Brushing off the tears on your cheeks, you stood up, shaking your head, and decided to step out and head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

The silence in the apartment was killing you slowly. Usually, as loud as he could be, Changbin would leave traces of where he was or what he was doing with small sounds. Like the little giggles when he was texting the members. The loud cackles when he watched instagram reels, and the proud snicker when he encountered edits of himself. The low humming when a song got stuck in his head, there it be one of his own creations or the ones he listened to. The small thuds as he practiced choreographys in his study, for tiktok trends or for Felix’s enjoyment.

Now, it was just silence as you sipped from he mug. It was probably not a good idea to have coffee past one am, but you didn’t care.

And then, you heard the struggles of a drunk man trying to open the door.

You hesitated. He was a mess when he was drunk, but now he’d probably be mad. And you kind of deserved it.

Shaking your head, you opened the door, and his body, slightly taller than yours, fell like a puppet, his head nuzzling into your neck as his arms closed around your waist.

“Bubs, y-you’re so preettty,” he sniffed. He was… crying? “Ah… I- m-missed you, sooo, so muchh…” he trailed off, his eyes teary.

You tried to craddle his face or to move him away, and failed to guide him upstairs.

“N-no!” He refused, tightening his grip around you.

“My love, you should go to bed.” You mentioned softly.

His eyes widened, and his head shot up, his hands now cradling your face.

“W-what did you just say?” He muttered. “D-don’t say that. If you… do that… n-no…”

You blinked, pouting unconciously.

“What, baby?” He shivered under your touch when your hands softly grabbed his wrists.

“Remember how… I uh… said that… alcohol… uh…”

The intense blush in his face made you almost jump in your place, your eyebrows shot up slightly.

You were unable to control a smile that creeped from underneath. “My love…” you started, and he almost whimpered. “Are you getting horny?” You whispered, and he nodded against your neck.

“You… you’re just s’prettyy… ‘n you keep wearing my clothes…” his fingers started to trail patterns, slowly riding up an old hoodie of his that you had most definetely stolen.

You licked your lips.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah? Lemme take care of you.”

His body fell on the bed like dead weight. His eyes were closed, his features so soft you thought he had fallen asleep.

You started taking his shoes off, followed by his socks, because you knew he hated sleeping with them on.

Changbin sighed, and you stopped.

“Bubs, please,” his hand tugged your sleeve. “P-please… just. Just… this once. ‘M so sorry. I’ll fix this. I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll talk to the company or something.” He blabbered messily, and tugged your sleeve harder, swiftly taking your other arm and pulling towards him, making you fall on top of him.

He brushed a couple of stray hairs from your face, and you struggled you find a comfortable position to lie on him.

“B-bunny, w-wait.” His hands stopped your waist. “Fuck, I need you. Please. I know ‘m drunk… just…” his features scrunched up, thinking.

“Love…” you started.

“Wait, I know!” He blurted out. “Just lemme taste you.” He smiled, breathing against your lips, in a way that you could almost taste what he had drinked earlier.

“W-what?”

He whined. “You always taste s’good, bubs. Please. Binnie need this, pleaaase…” he trailed off, peppering messy kisses on your neck.

You felt him harden underneath you as you thought for an answer.

“But we had a fight, love. I don’t want you to do this and feel wrong about it tomorrow.” You said lowly, biting your lip. “Are you sure about this?”

“I know, I know. ‘m drunk, sure, but you still taste so fucking good ‘nd look like a goddess. Thinking I’ll regret this ‘s bullshit.” He mumbled against your skin.

You got lost in thought, and he took that in advantage, rolling his hips against yours.

“You said you’d take care of me,” he whimpers lowly, his voice hoarse. “Kiss me.” Changbin licked his lips, his mouth dry. “Please.”

There was an urgency, a burning desire that crashed through your body as his lips devoured yours after a shy nod. Each touch of his lips sent ripples of warmth through your body, making both of you more hot and bothered as it grew in intensity. It was a kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a word, a language of emotions conveyed through the mixture of breaths. A way of apologizing from before and a form of drunk reassurance.

The taste was a mixture of the drinks he had taken and your flavoured chapstick, tongues clashing against one another as his hands moved to your waist and turned both of you. With his figure over yours, he parted your legs with soft strokes on your thigh, leaning in, unable to separate from your lips, taste stronger and more addicting than any drink he could’ve found over at the bar.

When you broke apart, a thin strand of drool followed your lips, and without missing a beat, Changbin licked it clean. You panted, your hand on his chest as both of you stared at each other, eyes, lips, taking in the other’s untamed beauty. It was a moment suspended in time, entering your shared bubble back in what felt like months of craving.

Changbin went right back, biting your bottom lip, trailing lustful kisses down your neck, taking your and his clothes off as if they burned, nonchalantly throwing them elsewhere.

“So good, my cute little bunny… already wet, huh?” He snickered, leaving marks on your neck and trailing dow, playfully biting the inside of your thighs. “Binnie’ll make ya feel s’good.”

His kisses started to get closer and closer to your core, making your sigh impatiently, whimpering. He cooead at you, and planted a teasing kiss on your cunt.

You squirmed on your place. “B-binnie…!”

“Shhh, bunny. S’okay.” Changbin smirked slyly, dragging his tongue on you in languid strokes. He grunted when you started moaning louder, your hands now in his hair, his mouth spread wide on you.

As you started babbling in pleasure, he started making out with your sloppy cunt more vigorously, tugging at your thighs, like he wanted to be crushed by them.

“Y’know, fuck…” he moans, and it travels all through your body. “when ya said I was a desperate lil’ bitch… fuck… made me so horny…”

He stared at you from in between your legs. “Binnie’s such a desperate slut for bunny, huh?”

He spread you open with two slender finger, moaning just by feeling how small you are and how you clenched around his fingers, imagining how tight you'd be around him, and he started grinding against the matress unconciously.

He stops grinding when you moan his name and grasp his hair, and lets you ride his face as you reel in pleasure.

You whine when his kisses get too intense and he comes up, his arousal all over his lips and chin, kissing you with all tongue and teeth, allowing you to taste yourself.

“We’ll keep going in the morning,” he panted. “Can’t have enough of you.” Changbin murmured against your neck, falling asleep with you.

~kats, who wrote this while blasting ‘careless whisper’ on her headphones just to see how far she could take it.

THINK I DID OK AS MY FIRST ACTUAL SMUT?!

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