#//i feel like even though cap may not know what to do with himself when there isn't war

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Finish Line || LS2

Summary: A farewell fic to Logan because I'm a sookie and miss him already. Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader (living in America) WC: 4k

Summer Break 2021

Your mother always said, “Nothing good is easy and nothing easy is good.” To an eighteen year old fresh out of high school you thought she was referring to studying and exam results, not the more impactful experiences you would face once the red brick walls were left in the rear view mirror. 

It would only take a matter of weeks to learn the real meaning.

Loving Logan wasn’t easy but it was impossible to stop the feeling of falling that came soon after meeting him. From the moment you met there was an indescribable connection but the paths of your future were heading in completely different directions and you knew at the end of summer you would say your goodbyes.

In the meantime you would enjoy what the weather had to offer and what better way to emancipate yourself from the innocence of youth and broadcast to the world that you were an adult than a girls road trip to Miami? You may not have been old enough to drink but that didn’t stop the college guys on summer vacation from keeping you and your friends well supplied. 

Looking back, it only proved how young and naive you were. 

“Dalt, I really shouldn’t be here,” Logan complained as a red cup was thrust into his hand. “I could get in so much trouble for this.”

“Relax, bro, you’ll be fine.” His older brother clapped him on the back happily. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The beach house was right on the waterfront and Logan stepped out onto the white sand to dip his toes in the warm water. He didn’t know who’s family the place belonged to but Dalton seemed to know everyone by name. It only made him feel even more left out and he thought maybe he should have just stayed in England for the summer break. 

The house was stifling with the humid temperatures compounding to a sauna with all the bodies inside. The beer had started off cool but it had warmed in your hands and began to taste disgusting so you abandoned it into the hands of a stranger passing by who swiftly chugged it back before shouting the Greek alphabet you assumed was the name of his frat house. You had certainly bitten off more than you could chew and debated catching a Greyhound bus home where you felt safe but you wouldn’t ditch your friends who were absolutely in their element.

The beach wasn’t like any you had seen before arriving in Miami. The sand bars were tiny pockets of islands and each property seemed to be its own space divided by narrow canals that lead to dry docks for their expensive boats. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked the stranger who sat in the sand at the water's edge. It was impossible to ignore each other’s presence when the rising tide had left such little space.

“It’s a free country,” he said with a small smile, his palm quickly swiping away the picture he had drawn in the sand. 

“I don’t know about that. Sometimes it feels like a prison. Sorry, that was really morbid.”

He laughed and tipped his head back to the sun that still beat down despite being late in the afternoon. “You’re not wrong though. I love coming home, but sometimes I’m glad I don’t live here anymore. I don’t know how to fit in with that,” he said looking back at drunken revelers who had stripped down to their swimwear despite having no inclination to actually enter the water. 

He looked like the rest of the guys there: tanned skin over a toned body and dirty blonde hair hidden by a cap he wore backwards. The southern drawl also confirmed the fact he called this place home. 

“Where do you fit in then?”

His shoulders shrugged as he picked at a desiccated chain of Neptune’s necklace that had washed up on the beach. He busied himself with plucking each individual bead off the seaweed and flicking it back to the water. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“A Formula One racing driver, or a fisherman.”

You buried your toes in the sand, wiggling them to dig deeper where it was cooler. “I thought the all-american dream was to be an astronaut?”

You met his blue eyes and saw the amusement that sparkled in them. “I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted with a grin before he held out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“I think we are beyond names here, I already know your hopes and dreams,” you teased, shaking his hand. 

“But I don’t know yours, yet.”

“I can give you my name, but as for hopes and dreams, I have no idea what I want to be. I’m still trying to figure that out.” You realised his hand was still in yours and gave it another small shake. “I’m Y/N.”

As the sun fell below the horizon the party grew larger and soon it spilled into the slice of paradise you had carved out with Logan. Sand was kicked up as two guys tackled each other to the ground and Logan threw a protective arm around you before they could crash into your side.

“Back it up bro,” he said as he rose to his feet and pulled you up too, tucking you in behind his back. “You could have hurt somebody.”

“Aw, Sargeant, is that your girlfriend?”

Logan ignored them and turned to check you were alright. His eyes scanned over your body and slowed on their ascent before he cleared his throat and met your eyes again. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You scanned the crowd and spotted two of your friends dancing and the other sat on some guy's lap, smiles on all their faces. You couldn’t disappear and make them worry but you didn’t want to stay as the party only grew more chaotic. “Yes, please, I’ll just tell my friends I’m leaving.”

You weren’t going to attempt to get amongst the gyrating bodies so instead headed to Dakota. The guy sitting beneath her noticed your arrival first and grinned at Logan as he stepped in beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You’re leaving aren’t you? Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“You two know each other?” you asked. 

“Only since birth,” Logan answered. “This is my brother, Dalton. Dalton, this is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said before turning your attention to your friend. “I’m going to head off, Kote. Logan said he can drop me off at the apartment after dinner.”

“Are you sure? I can take you back if you want.”

You laughed and leaned into Logan, enjoying the warmth that came as his arm curled around your waist. “I’m good, someone needs to make sure those two get back.”

You both looked at the twins who had found dance partners and knew the rented 4 bedroom apartment was probably going to double in residents by morning. With a resigned sigh that she didn’t really feel as the group mother, Dakota nodded. “I’ve got them, you two have fun.”

The wink she sent you off with made your cheeks heat but you hadn’t actually planned on doing what the action implied. Of course Logan was attractive, and the thought of taking him to your bedroom was one that had you melting, but you were quite happy just enjoying his company too. 

“Are you hungry? I know this great spot but it’s a bit of a drive from here.”

Out in the street where the sounds of the thumping bass couldn’t reach your stomach rumbled and you smiled sheepishly. “Just a little.”

The restaurant he knew was on Key Largo, about an hour south of where the party was in Miami Beach and you were amazed by how many bridges had been built to connect the keys. It would have felt a bit scary driving over the ocean if it wasn’t for Logan recounting stories of growing up in the state. It was a good distraction to listen to the fondness in his tone as he remembered fishing off the now-closed piers that he pointed out. 

“I think this is where you fit in,” you said as he cruised along the highway in his pickup truck, the radio quietly playing an RnB station in the background. It was warm enough that the window was down and the breeze blew his hair back like a runway model.

He glanced across the car and lifted a questionable brow. “In Florida?”

“No! Behind the wheel. You look, I don’t know, comfortable? No, content, that’s the word.” 

On the beach Logan had shared how he was halfway through the season of Formula 3 in Europe and had hopes to join an F1 team in the future. It was also when he mentioned returning to the country he currently lived in, four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean. Despite only just meeting him, you felt the four week countdown arriving like a dark storm cloud.

Those four weeks flew by almost as quickly as you fell in love. 

Summer Break 2024

The soy milk screeched and you winced at the sound before saving the new girl, and the coffee, from the machine. Thankfully it wasn’t scorched as the shop was already full with the busy morning foot-traffic and you wanted to keep it flowing for the customer’s sake. 

“Soy latte with a shot of hazelnut?” A hand went up and you passed the takeaway cup over. “Have a nice day.”

You looked at the next order stuck to the bench and immediately searched for the customer, a smile splitting your face when you found him. “Baby, you’re home! Why didn’t you call?”

Logan ducked under the staff counter and met your embrace with strong arms that pulled you to your tiptoes. “I called, but you must have been busy here. God, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

You checked your phone in the pocket of your apron and saw the missed call before slipping it over your head. “Marie, can you keep an eye on everything?”

“Yeah, course, hun, take your time,” the part time barista said with a wave. “Welcome home, Logan.”

“Thank you.” 

You dragged Logan eagerly through the swing door that stated ‘staff only’ and past the break room to the disused office at the back. “I’ve missed you so much,” you managed to say between the desperate kisses you shared as he kicked your door closed. 

“Missed you too.”

Your hands reached beneath his shirt and he chuckled breathlessly as he caught them before they could move any further. “Tempting, sweetheart, but not here.”

You pouted as you draped your arms around his neck instead and held him tight. “I have the studio booked in 20 minutes, did you want to come?”

Logan rolled his eyes at the stupid question and didn’t bother to answer as he tucked his hands into the back of your jeans and buried his face in your hair. “You smell like blueberry muffins,” he hummed happily. 

“I can steal one,” you offered but when you pulled away he quickly pulled you back with a shake of his head.

“Diet.”

You grabbed the flesh on his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath. “You’re perfect, baby, one muffin isn’t going to change that - but it will make you happier. Go grab a seat in the staff room.”

You walked him back down the hall and let him settle into the couch while you grabbed a muffin from the front counter. Most of the rush had quickly cleared and with the lull in orders you made him his favourite drink. 

“You spoil me, sweetheart,” he said with a gratefully smile as you placed the plate and cup on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You sank into the couch beside him and watched him pick apart the muffin, finding all the blueberries to eat first. He could feel your eyes on his hands as they fiddled with crumbs but before he worked up the courage to explain why he caught a flight two days earlier than planned. “What’s going on, baby?”

He exhaled a heavy sigh and wiped his hands clean before taking yours. “I think it’s over.”

Your heart cleaved apart and your ears started ringing as your world came crashing down. There was only one semester left in your art programme before all the plans the two of you made would come to life - plans that started with moving to England with Logan. Plans that were crumbling down.

“It’s over?” you repeated as silent tears streaked your face and your hands slipped from his.

Horror bled into Logan’s features and he snatched your hands back, placing them over his chest where his heart beat rapidly with panic. “Not us, never us,” he rushed with a harsh shake of his head. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are my everything.”

You sagged with relief as he wiped your eyes but the relief was short lived as you understood what he meant and the phantom pain in your chest returned. “Have you spoken to James?”

He nodded and leaned into your touch as your palms ran up his chest to cradle his face. “It’s not good.”

To hear the defeat in his voice was something you never wished to hear again. It was a sound that no 23 year old should make, he was too young to feel the immense pressure he was under and a weaker man would have been broken by it. But Logan was strong, mentally and physically - he would recover from this, you would make sure of it.

“Come on,” you whispered as you rose to your feet and tugged his hands. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“But you have class.”

You grabbed your handbag from your locker and tossed him the car keys. “This is more important, and I can paint anywhere.”

—

The drive to Miami took most of the day and the frown on Logan’s forehead seemed to soften as the arid air turned humid and the paddocks turned to swamp before he sped through Alligator Alley. The top 40 charts played quietly on the radio and Logan hummed along with the ones he liked while he held your hand on your thigh. 

A contented sigh of relief exhaled from deep in Logan’s chest as the sunset and the city lights illuminated the horizon. Though he was tired to his bones, just the sight of his home was enough to rejuvenate him and he sat up a little straighter before taking the exit that would lead him to Fort Lauderdale. 

Madelyn and Daniel were already expecting Logan and the front door opened before he could turn the engine off. It had been a while since they last had Logan home and you felt a little guilty since most of his returns to home soil were to visit you instead, but they didn’t hold it against you. Madelyn was just happy that there was someone who loved and supported Logan as much as she did.  

It was immediately clear that she wasn’t aware of his current struggles as you saw him hide behind a confident smile as she asked how everything was going. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” he admitted as he closed his bedroom door after dinner. 

You placed your bag on the floor and took a seat at the headboard before patting the spot beside you. Logan flopped down on the bed and rested his head on your thighs while his long legs hung over the edge, looking up as if you had all the answers. 

“You could never disappoint them, Lo, they just want you to be happy. And, you're worrying about things that haven’t even come to pass. We don’t know what the second half of the season will bring.”

“I know you are being reasonable, but I can’t help thinking this is the end. Everyone else thinks so too.”

“You mean everyone on X, formally known as twitter,” you said with a roll of your eyes that made him chuckle. “How about no social media for the whole break? Just disconnect from it all for four weeks.”

“And what happens at the end of the break?” he asked quietly, sensing deja vu from the last time he asked this three years ago. It was an eerily similar state too with his head on your legs but you were on the white sands instead of a bed. You had already fallen in love but he was due to fly back to Europe and you would be getting in the car with your friends and heading home. He had forever changed you that summer.

You combed your fingers through his hair as you relived the same memory. “We will be grateful for the time we had together.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he sat up so he could pull you onto his lap. “I’m not letting you go again.”

“I should hope not,” you stated as your knees settled either side of his thighs and you reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. “Now say goodbye to this, I am having you all to myself.”

He plucked the phone from your fingers and tossed it to the side table before putting all those glorious muscles to good use. The room spun until he caged your body beneath his and he gently kissed his way across your collarbone. “You already have me, sweetheart.”

–

A sick twisting feeling gripped your gut as you waved goodbye to Logan through misted eyes. No matter what you had said, you could feel his stress growing as the break came to an end and now he was going back alone. You wished you could go with him.

The drive back to your apartment was too quiet but you couldn’t listen to the radio because the songs he would have hummed to would only make you miss him more. It always took days, weeks even, to reacclimate yourself to the loss of his presence when he left. It never got easier but the memories made were worth it.

The days dragged by as classes began again and the repetitive routine of life was reestablished. Finally it was the weekend and you could curl up on the couch and watch Logan’s practice on F1TV while you were surrounded by paintings of him. There were two new additions that had come back from Miami, one capturing his happiness as he reeled in a bluefish and the other capturing his perfect features as he sunbathed shirtless, that one was purely indulgent.

“Oh no, Sargeant has taken a big shunt into the barriers there.”

Your feet slammed to the floor as you jumped out of your seat and stumbled closer to the tv as if you could reach through it and help, but you were helpless to watch as Logan remained in the car in the middle of the track - red flags waving. 

“Come on, baby, get out of there,” you begged as you heard his radio saying he was okay, but then the back of the car ignited into flame. You were screaming for him to get out as George’s car rolled by, his hands gesturing wildly for Logan to get out too before he finally was free of the seat harness and jumping out over the halo. 

You finally breathed a sigh of relief but it didn’t last as the camera cut to Logan leaning on the barriers, his head hung in defeat despite the helmet hiding his face. You knew your boyfriend better than anyone, you knew exactly what was going on inside his head and you knew you had to do something.

The credit card Logan had given you years ago had been left discarded in the back of your underwear drawer. He said it was for you to use but you had never been with him for the money and even as a broke uni student you hadn’t used it once. But this was an emergency, and if you were ever going to use it then you could be damn sure it was going to be spent on him.

One quick email was sent to your professor begging for an extension due to a family emergency before you packed a bag and booked the first flight out to Amsterdam.

With shaking hands you typed a message: I’m so glad you got out of there, baby. I’m on my way and I love you so much xxx

You knew he wouldn’t be able to reply for a little while since he would have to get back to the team garage, and there would be other responsibilities first like having a medical check and debrief, but you sent it anyway along with the flight numbers so he knew where you would be and when. It was going to be a long day with the 13 hours of flights plus the change in timezone but nothing was going to keep you from getting to Logan before the race tomorrow.

–

A stranger with a whiteboard greeted you at the airport and the exhaustion of the trip faded away when you reached the paddock with a pass in hand and stepped into the Williams garage. Bodies of mechanics moved in sync as they rushed around the car preparing it for the race that was due to start in a few short hours but it was one man that was standing among them that drew you closer. 

“Lo,” you greeted softly behind him on raised tiptoes. 

A wide smile split his face as he turned to embrace you, lifting your feet off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Hellow, sweetheart,” he breathed against your skin before inhaling the familiar scent of your perfume. 

Your hands tightened on his waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you okay?”

He pulled back and his smile faltered. “I’m better now that you’re here.” 

You reached up to trace the curve of his cheek where his smile had been but his team principal called his name before you could feel the shadow of his beard on your palm. “Can I borrow you for a minute?” he asked Logan before spotting you, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Hello, Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, James,” you replied politely before stepping out of Logan’s arms and giving him a little nudge in the right direction. “I’ll wait over in hospitality.”

Logan spent what time he could with you, reassured by the feel of your arms wrapped around his neck and your cheek pressed to his as you sat on his lap in the single chair that furnished his driver room. The thin walls did little to dampen the noise of the motorhome and the crowd beyond but for a few minutes Logan could forget it all and the pressure that came with it - until the clock ticked away the precious minutes alone and reality returned.

“I have to score a point today,” he whispered like he was confessing a sin and he tipped his head back to stare at the roof. “No point, no seat. That's the deal.”

“Can they do that with your contract?”

“They can do whatever they want, sweetheart. I’m lucky they let me go this long without contributing.”

You cupped his face and tipped it forward so he was forced to look you in the eyes. “There are more ways to contribute to the team than just scoring points. You spend hours in the simulator every week so they can get their precious data.”

“And then I go and cost them $250k when I crash,” he laughed humorlessly and dropped his forehead to yours. “I think this is it. I’m tired and it’s so hard to enjoy it now. That’s the worst part out of all of it. I used to like my job, it was all I wanted to do.”

Your thumbs caught the tears that clung to his lower lashes. “What do you want now?”

“I honestly have no idea, I just know I want to be wherever you are.”

A knock at the door interrupted the promise you were going to make and someone in a William’s shirt said it was time to head back to the garage before ducking back out of the room.

“I love you” you whispered between the kisses you traced across the bow of his lips. “I want you to go out there today and forget James and points and all that stuff and just enjoy the race. I have watched you give everything to this team but today I want you to be selfish, okay? Enjoy it out there or it’s all for nothing, no matter the outcome. And when you get out of that car I will be waiting for you, arms wide open.”

Logan closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath before he captured your lips in a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. Resolute and proud, he stood up and placed you on his feet before grabbing his cap and slapping it on his head. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

[000-pawz]

how leehan loves ( zodiac series ) ˚ · .

how i think leehan would navigate relationships/love/communication based on his natal chart/birth chart!

wc: 1k+

more under the cut!

in short, leehan is an incredibly "patient, dependable, and secure" lover.

with his libra sun, i'd say he's a "starry-eyed" romantic; one of those people with that sparkly gaze of admiration when they have a crush on someone. he would definitely observe you from afar for a while and maybe even pine a bit, picking up on all the things you are interested in, your style, and just who you are as a person.

from there, i see a lot of courtship before asking you out. because his moon is in capricorn, he's not the type to fall quickly or rush into things. he is willing to put in the effort if he genuinely wants to build a solid relationship with his partner and he's not a fan of flings and fleeting emotions. he can be pretty nitpicky when it comes to relationships, so he tries to act wisely and thoughtfully.

leehan is very cute though!!! ^___^ although he may seem like a rock on the outside at times because of his cap moon, he sometimes finds it hard to make the first move. please show him that you truly like him by reciprocating his efforts to give him some confidence!

leehan is very dependable and punctual. he shows up early for dates, will come over as soon as you call, and keeps all of his promises. his virgo venus makes him a big lover of domestic things like doing the dishes together, routine kisses, brushing your teeth together and making silly faces at each other in the mirror, making your coffee just the way you like it <3

leehan is a big extrovert and would love to spend as much time with his partner as possible. and by "time", i mean meaningful, quality time where you can really sit and talk and get to know each other. he probably wouldn't be a fan of dates where there's too many people around. i recommend intimate dates like cooking together, a private pottery class, and maybe even renting out a karaoke room for just the two of you.

but beware that a big turn-off for him would be clinginess in the early stages of the relationship. he likes when things progress slowly so he can build that strong, intimate bond with his partner. when things move too fast, he gets incredibly uncomfortable and he moves on pretty quickly if he can't see a future with someone.

i see his ideal type as people who he can have emotional resonance with. with his sun and mars in libra, he likes balance. if he's closed off, he'd like someone who can help him open up. people who are gentle, carefree, kind-hearted, fun-loving, and just as romantic as him.

leehan's mercury is in scorpio, so he's not too affected by those petty, fleeting arguments. if he notices you’re stressed and taking it out on him, he’ll be so gentle and try to figure out what’s truly going on. he hates to be in the dark, so please tell him if something is bothering you because it will bother him if he doesn’t know what’s bothering you. he's highly observant and he observes in silence most of the time. expect to always have his eyes on you like an eagle; he's basically trying to read your mind ><

he may have some problems with jealousy because his venus squares pluto. leehan is all about being in it for the long-run and creating a stable and trusting relationship. it's not necessarily insecurity that riles him up, but the thought of someone trying to steal you away from him gets under his skin. when leehan is jealous, he can be very passive-aggressive and shut himself off from you. you may not even know why he's acting that way because he takes so long to open up.

if there is a serious conflict, leehan can become pretty detached and stoic. he definitely internalizes his feelings and stress, and he needs time alone when he's bombarded with too many emotions. he only shares his deepest, darkest feelings with those he trusts and is pretty reserved when it comes to dealing with his feelings.

leehan always reflects before he approaches you for communication. with his libra mars, he craves harmony and understanding. sometimes he can get a little too caught up in defending himself, though, because he doesn't want you to misunderstand. he's level-headed after he clears his thoughts and handles issues with long-term stability in mind rather than quick fixes. overall, he's pretty graceful at managing conflict. he can compromise without any pushback.

alternatively, leehan is the best person to share your secrets with. he'll take them to the grave, always. he's not inclined to gossip or lecture you. he'll simply listen and provide you comfort <3

he is always incredibly understanding of your feelings and never fails to take them into consideration. he'll take you to restaurants catering to your taste, even if he's not a fan. he'll give you his jacket if you forget yours and it starts to rain. he is just so selfless and patient with his partner. <3

his love languages are quality time and acts of service!!! he values meaningful time spent with his partner to form that deep connection, and likes to ease their burdens by helping them whenever he can. he has a tendency to put his partner before himself, and can even neglect his own needs sometimes. if you can, help him out by reminding him to have breakfast, helping him relax by having a cuddle session in between his heavy schedule, and being his rock to lower his guard around ><

ways to make leehan swoon? compare hand sizes ^___^ or trace the lines on his palm, kiss the back of his hand, lace your fingers together... anything involving his hands! also paying attention to his little quirks would make him fall for you even faster. like, oh, he likes this specific candy so pick some up on your way over! or mention something cute he did in his sleep. just noticing those small things about him will make him feel so special ^___^

reblogs are greatly appreciated! lmk what u think or if you have any other takes!!! i'm always open to learning more :o thank u...<3

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[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (05)

chapter five: say what you mean

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, kissing, we’re starting to dip our toes into angsty territory !!, less edited than i’d like but what’s new lol word count: 2.8k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you’re ready My head’s getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you, I adore you

Adore - Dean Lewis

Whenever Minho asks if you two could hang out together at your place, it usually means that you will end up in your bed.

Tonight you suppose is no different.

Even though you often cap off the night having engaged in activities that could make the Victorian lady in Hyunjin faint, it’s not all that you do. Both you and Minho never let yourselves forget that you’re friends first and foremost. Sex is the added benefit that should never take anything away from your friendship. He is still one of the people you’re most comfortable with, one of the few people whose company you enjoy.

You’re sprawled out on the couch in your small living room when Minho returns from the kitchen with a plate of freshly peeled tangerines, the same ones that he brought over earlier. You push yourself to half-sit up so he could squeeze himself between you and the armrest, before you go back to laying your head on his lap as you two resume watching a bad movie that you put on.

“I hate this so much,” you comment, your eyes glued to the TV screen.

“You picked the movie,” Minho says. “It’s not that bad. The plot is kind of decent.”

“I’m not talking about that. Jeez, if they wanted to make a movie where the main character is a graphic designer, you’d think that they would at least consult someone who knows literally anything about visual art. Look at that horrendous typography job, the text isn’t even aligned with the edges and corners. This is hurting my soul.”

Your cushions (Minho’s thighs) shake lightly as he laughs at your dramatic outburst over something as trivial as a fictional character’s poor standards of digital art. But you really aren’t kidding; the way the woman on screen is butchering the text alignment is quite literally making that very particular part of your brain want to shut down for the next five to seven business days.

“They should’ve consulted you first, is that right?” Minho asks.

“They really should have. I could’ve done wonders for them,” you say matter-of-factly. “I almost majored in graphic design, y’know.”

You have a habit of biting your tongue around others because you know that people don’t really care about the same things you do. Whenever the opportunity arises for you to share tidbits about your interests, excitement would tumble out of you only to be quashed soon after when no one wants to listen to your silly little rambles. It’s disheartening, you’re used to it.

But you never feel that way around Minho. He always lets you babble on about anything and everything, even if he might not know what the hell you’re talking about. He indulges you. He never makes you feel neglected or ignored.

“Hmm, my little genius artist.” He taps your cheek once, and when you turn your head to glance at him, he tells you to open up before he slips a slice of tangerine past your lips. “You’re right. Even I can tell that it’s horrendous.”

You hum appreciatively when the sweetness of the juicy fruit floods your tastebuds. Minho’s hand trails down your arm to rest on your stomach, just below your ribs where he fiddles with the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. If he moves his hand up, he would be grazing your bare chest underneath your shirt. You didn’t bother with a bra because, well, comfort above all else, especially within the four walls of your own home. Besides, it’s nothing that Minho hasn’t seen anyway.

He keeps on feeding you tangerines in between your complaints about bad design standards until the movie ends and the plate is cleared. The only sound in the room is the soft music on the TV as the credits start to roll.

You turn to lie on your back, staring up at Minho. “That was deeply disturbing.”

“You chose it,” he reminds you. “You went in knowing what the premise was.”

“Yeah, I have no one to blame but me. I had too much faith in humanity.”

“And you call me weird.”

“You are weird,” you say. “But I like weird.”

Minho looks down at you and for a moment, he says nothing. His fingers trace something on your stomach. A heart or an odd circle, you don’t know; you’re always bad at deciphering those. His eyelids fall a bit, softening the usual sharpness of his gaze.

Then he’s pulling you by your shoulders, guiding you to sit up and before you know it, you’re situated on his lap with one of his hands on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. Minho tugs you closer, meeting your lips in a kiss in which you waste no time returning.

He’s sweet, like the tangerines that you were sharing all evening. It tends to start like this - sort of randomly, whenever it feels right. He squeezes your side in a comforting gesture as his tongue slips into your mouth. There are times where it’s more urgent, where one of you is needy and desperately seeks the escape and release that can only be found in the other’s embrace. Other times, it’s slower, more gentle, where you can really focus on making each other feel fully satiated.

This, right now - you would pinpoint somewhere in the middle. There’s no fiery clothes-ripping urge, nor a need to lay the other person bare and knead every single knot of stress from their system. Today, there’s just languid wanting; an unhurried inclination to be close.

Him and his tangerine flavored kiss, you and your resolve built on shaky foundation.

You start rolling your hips over his, tugging on his shirt because you want to feel his skin against yours. Minho stops you though; he puts both hands on your hips and pulls his lips away from yours. You blink, dazed, confused.

“I...” he starts, trying to even out his breathing as he finds the words. “I don’t want to have sex tonight.”

Embarrassment instantly washes over you. The rejection is a little humiliating; it’s the first time you’ve ever felt like this around him. Your cheeks catch fire from the mortification, and you’re very aware that you’re still sitting in his lap, right over his crotch.

Wanting to climb off of him and just fucking bury yourself in a ditch, you start stuttering like an absolute fool, “Oh... Y-yeah, no, of course! Shit, shit, I’m sorry. Of course we don’t have t-”

Minho holds you in place, one of the hands on your hips goes to cup your cheek to make you look at him. It effectively shuts you right up.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in an earnest apology. “I just want to keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s holding your face, your waist, so delicately. He looks drunk on your presence alone even though neither of you have had a single drop of alcohol tonight, so sincere in his simple request that you feel your heart swell tenfold.

You want it too. You’re more than okay with just kissing him.

You don’t answer him verbally. Instead, you just nod and move to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his soft hair. The sweetness of the tangerines grows more and more distant as you chase his lips, but you can taste his smile. It’s infinitely more saccharine, and it only grows sweeter when he holds you close and knocks the breath out of you.

When you pull away for air, you slump against him, hiding your face in the crook of his face, shy all of a sudden. He keeps you there but continues with his onslaught of kisses - on your hair, your cheek, your neck, anywhere his lips can reach. Like he simply can’t get enough of you.

“You really like kissing,” you comment, giggling quietly as you do. “Even when we… y’know, bone.”

“Bone? You’re so romantic, babe.” You feel the rumbles of Minho’s chest as he lets out a hearty laugh, the sound of which fills the space of your modest home, embeds itself in every nook and crevice, in between every minuscule crack in your walls until the whole place feels warmer, brighter somehow. “Are you complaining?”

“No... just pointing it out.”

“Well, I like kissing you,” he says. “You’re not a terrible kisser, I guess.”

You sit up straighter and catch the teasing grin on his face before you roll your eyes. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“Says the girl who uses ‘bone’ to describe sex.”

“It’s a perfectly good euphemism for ‘sex’.”

“You might as well just say ‘boink’.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Sure.”

Then he’s pressing his mischievous smile against your mouth once more, and you can’t really wrap your mind around how it’s even possible that he keeps getting sweeter and sweeter. His sugary kisses send warmth tingling up your spine, make a fluttery sensation erupt in your stomach. You’re lightheaded, and not the kind that can be remedied by a sufficient fix of blood oxygen.

Even though you’re perfectly content with kissing, there’s a certain implication that comes with only kissing that you’re not sure what to do with. He’s literally inside of you on a weekly basis and yet, this feels much more intimate than anything you two have ever done.

Because friends don’t kiss each other the way he’s kissing you right now. Friends don’t kiss each other the way you’re kissing him back.

A chime from your phone breaks you two apart, the intrusion forcing a mildly frustrated grunt from Minho. You find the mobile device hidden between the cushions of your couch, and after you quickly scan the notification on the screen, you tell him, “It’s Hyunjin.”

“What did I say? It’s always him at the scene of the crime,” Minho mutters, speaking in the same tone that one would when their sibling interrupts a round of their favorite video game. “What does he want?”

“Just wants me to send him a photo of the sample portfolio from our class.”

“Ignore him. He can wait.”

“He’ll call me if I don’t reply.”

“He’s so annoying,” Minho grumbles but loosens his hold on you nonetheless. “Hurry back.”

“It’ll only take a minute, you big baby,” you chuckle, pressing a swift peck to his lips before you get up from the couch and head toward your bedroom with your phone in hand, searching for the binder that Hyunjin is asking about.

Once you’ve snapped the picture and sent it to your friend, you return to the living room. When Minho hears your footsteps, he holds out an arm, silently beckoning you into his embrace again. And you do. You slide into the space next to him, slotting perfectly against his side.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace along his forearm until they reach his wrist. “This is pretty,” you say, touching the thin link bracelet that he always wears, the one with a small charm hanging off the center in the simple outline of a dove.

“You like it? I’ve had it for ages.”

“Mhmm, it suits you.”

A moment passes where you both sit in silence as you fiddle with the gold jewelry, and you can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time. After a while, he pries your fingers off his skin, only to swiftly take off the trinket.

“No, Min. What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you. You attempt (in vain) to pull your wrist back but Minho is stronger. He holds it in place as he clasps the chain around your wrist.

“Minho, you are not giving me your bracelet.”

“Relax. It’s not like it was passed down from my great-great-grandfather. It’s just a random bracelet I bought when I was 18.”

“Why would you even give me your bracelet?”

He shrugs, as though he’s merely doing something as simple as letting you borrow you a pen. “It looks good on you.”

You look down to where his hand is still on your skin, his thumb gently sliding over your pulse point as he admires how the dainty gold reflects the dim lighting in your home.

And he’s right. It does look good, but he probably doesn’t mean it in the same way that you’re thinking of right now. You think it looks good because it’s something that belongs to him that’s now wrapped snugly around your wrist, like some sort of affirmation spoken in a language that only the two of you can understand.

Minho leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead. It takes you by surprise, the way he does it as if it’s second nature to be this affectionate with you. It’s a tipping point, then suddenly your thoughts are running rampant.

The instruction has always been plain and simple: No strings attached.

But...

The chaste kisses with no expectation of sex, being protective when you’re in the presence of other guys, even giving you his bracelet to wear just because you said it was pretty.

Why do all of these sound an awful lot like strings?

You hesitate, then you ask, “What are we doing?”

“Hmm? You wanna watch another movie?”

“No, that’s not... What are we doing?” You don’t even know what word to put more emphasis on.

Minho looks at you and loosens his fingers. What he can’t understand through your words, you think he sees it in your eyes. “Say what you mean.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course we are.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Do you not want to be friends anymore?” He cracks a smile, but you can tell that he’s just doing it to lighten you up. “You have terrible timing. I literally just gave you a bracelet.”

“Friends don’t do that.”

“Friends don’t give each other bracelets?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

Minho seems a bit taken aback, though he regains his composure in mere seconds, his voice calm as he tells you, “Friends don’t have sex either.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. What are you saying? You brought it up.”

You open your mouth, only to subsequently close it because your thoughts were never really that coherent in the first place. You look away from him to glance down at your wrist.

“You’re being confusing,” Minho says quietly, honestly.

“I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

“Did anything change for you?” he asks.

“No,” is what you tell him after a long minute, when what you really mean to say is I don’t know. You can see it as it happens, some stars fading from his eyes, some light growing more faint in his irises. Though the despondence on his face disappears so fast that you’re not sure if it was even there at all, or if it was only a figment of your imagination.

Then you throw the question back at him. “Did anything change? For you?”

Minho’s answer is the same as yours - a clear No - and yet, it makes you feel like you’ve been punctured by something sharp. You don’t know why your heart drops upon hearing him say the exact same thing that you did, but you try not to let it show on your face. Your poker face isn’t anywhere as good as his, but you hope that it’s enough.

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod a little.

“Then nothing’s changed.” He strokes your hair, emphasizing his point with a soft smile as he reassures you, “And nothing has to change. It’s a bracelet, don’t overthink it. We’re good.”

Sometimes, the decisions you make are bad because you can foresee the outcomes, or at least, you have an idea of the consequences will be later on and yet, you still choose to go through with it anyway.

Just like how you chose to watch a movie you knew would drive you crazy with its trivial details, you choose to accept the feeling of Minho’s bracelet around your wrist. You choose to believe him when he said nothing has changed, and that nothing has to change. You choose to sweep under the rug the thoughts that you’ve been having about him lately. You choose to overlook the reason why you’ve been having those thoughts instead of facing it head-on because you’re terrified of what you’d find if you dig deeper.

You choose to let the conversation end here though it still lingers in your mind, and you choose to let him kiss you goodnight when he leaves because tonight has already been a series of bad decision after bad decision anyway.

And when you fall asleep, it’s the soothing coolness of the golden dove against your skin that lulls you to slumber, like he’s here right beside you to hold you through the night.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

series taglist: @eyesforlino @armystay89 @nuronhe @becomingmina @astro-doll-the-star @hyuneyeon @jisunglyricist @yoontaethings @thisisnotjacinta @cupidcure @wyzminho

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 18.02.2024]

[lollixp0p]

Valentine's lovin' (18+)

Pairing: Bf!Jung Wooyoung x afab!reader

Genre: Romance, fluffy, smut (MNDI)

Word count: Just over 3k!!

Warnings: Idol!au, established relationship, sub!Wooyoung (subtle though), nipple play (m rec.), hair pulling (m rec.), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!), riding, creampie, (reader gets called my love, baby and other variations of it, Wooyoung gets called kitty, good boy)

Summary: It's your first Valentine's day as a couple and Wooyoung decides to take you on the best date of your life, so of course you have to reward him for his efforts ;)

Note: Happy Valentine's day everyone!! It's lovely Wooyoung time, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys (ignore any errors, I'm too lazy to check for them properly right now) :) Please comment, reblog etc. and give me feedback so I know if you liked it!🙏

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

The entire week up to today Wooyoung had been a stressed mess, wanting to make sure everything was in order for your special date. Why special, you may ask? Well because it was Valentine's day and he'd wanted everything to be as perfect as possible.

He'd made sure to move every practice or other schedule from that day to a different one, although their managers had not been very pleased about the information.

He had to nag Hongjoong and Jongho to be out of their dorm by seven pm at the latest, so you two could relax after the date with an amateur spa session and then watch your favorite movies until the two of you fell asleep cuddled on his bed. They'd finally agreed on the promise of free dinner paid by him the next day (much to Wooyoungs dismay).

Even though he had been all over the place on the days before it, the actual date was far more magical you could have ever imagined.

Wooyoung showed up to the door of your apartment in a fancy black suit holding a large bouquet of red roses, to signify his undying love and passion for you.

Although the lower half of his face was covered by a black face mask he looked so incredibly handsome you just wanted to drag him straight to your room and skip the entire date.

"Happy Valentine's day my love, I hope you're ready for the most romantic day of your life! These are for you, the most gorgeous person I've ever had the pleasure of seeing", Wooyoung says, pulling his mask down and grinning at you. He hands you the gorgeous bouquet and waits by the door as you go inside to put them in a vase.

"Thank you Wooyoungie... they're so beautiful", you smile at him bashfully. No matter how long it's been he still manages to make your stomach fill with butterflies and twist and turn in the most wonderful ways. The months you've been together have truly been the happiest of your life and you really can't wait to see what he has in store for you for your first Valentine's together.

Wooyoung tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leaves his hand on your cheek, caressing it softly. He leans in until your noses are touching, but holds still until you try to look away in shyness at his intense gaze.

Chuckling to himself and muttering a 'silly baby' under his breath, he turns your face towards him and finally closes the gap between you, kissing you passionately. Once he breaks off the kiss you're left breathless and dazed... 'What a little brat...' you think, but he's yours so you don't mind him teasing you like this.

He offers you his arm and after making sure you have everything you need with you, you finally grab it, close the door and he leads you to the company car driving you two to the expensive looking barbeque restaurant he'd booked a private room from.

During the entire ride Wooyoung couldn't stop gushing about how gorgeous you looked and you couldn't help but feel flattered that someone whose looks rivaled that of the suns could see such wonder in you.

When you'd gotten close enough to the restaurant Wooyoung put his mask and baseball cap on to hide his identity, slightly ruining his perfectly placed hair. 'The unfortunate realities of going on dates with an idol', you think to yourself, but ultimately understand it being for both of your safety and privacy.

After checking in at the front desk a waiter leads you to your private room and Wooyoung finally takes both the cap and mask fully off.

He fluffs his hair and helps you take your jacket off as you stare at him in wonder, itching to touch the perfectly fallen curls of his hair.

"Thank you Youngie", you smile up at him. He places the coat on the rack next to the door and pauses for a moment, looking you up and down and smiles back at you. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, feeling flustered at how taken he is by you.

"You're welcome pretty baby... I didn't realise you still had the jacket I lent you a month ago, I've been wondering where it went", he chuckles to you while pulling your chair back and pushing it closer to the desk once you're seated.

The restaurant staff had obviously known of your arrival beforehand, and made the room ready for use in advance. He sits down as a different waiter arrives and listens to them explain the menu. The both of you decide to split a slightly bigger meal so you wouldn't be too full by the time you got to the dorms.

Wooyoung had picked an incredible place to eat, as the food had looked mouthwatering the moment it arrived in the room, even if the meat had been raw at that point. His cooking skills had really shined through and you suspect that had been a part of the reason he wanted to take you there, fishing for compliments as he grills the meat for both of you.

While eating you exchanged about a thousand kisses with each other, even as you whined at him to stop so you could chew your food. Though he did make up for it by feeding you with his chopsticks and making sure you drank enough in between, smiling endearingly at you as he wipes any stray sauce off your cheeks, kissing them after.

The conversation was flowing so naturally that at times you'd completely forget to eat or sip the wine you had, due to your excitement and interest in the things you were talking about, making his show of affection very helpful even.

Once you had finally finished you'd put away any trash you managed to make and set your cutlery nicely on the table, to make the waiters job easier. Wooyoung got himself ready to leave and then handed you your jacket. He made sure to let the company staff driving your ride know the car could be driven to the front.

The two of you left after thanking the restaurant staff and once outside Wooyoung opened the door for you to get into the car before him.

You found yourself flustered by how he had upped his charm to what must be a thousand percent for this special day. It was clear this day was very important to him, wanting to impress you so.

In the car Wooyoung kept leaving sweet pecks to your cheeks and lips, telling you how much he loved you. It was obvious the shared wine had gotten him a bit buzzed but you could tell he wasn't drunk, just in that stage where he wanted to kiss you until you both were one, entangled in each others love.

Sitting on the right of you, little by little, his right hand drifts down to your thighs, until he's gripping the inner thigh of your right leg. Moving it towards him slowly, he slightly spreads your legs. Though to your relief (and dissapointment) that's all he does.

By now you know him well enough to know that normally he'd be cheeky enough to try finger you in the backseat, but you're glad he knows better right now. Wooyoung must realise that if he keeps his hands to himself, you'll rock his world as a thanks for the best date you'd ever had together yet.

Despite being a little brat that needs to be put in his place every once in a while, you know there's nothing Wooyoung loves more than getting taken care of and pampered, being controlled.

The car coming to a stop is what gets him to stop drowning you in kisses and he gathers himself, taking his hand off your thigh and winking at you. 'God he looks delicious', you find yourself thinking as he's fixing his hair. You have to remind yourself there's someone else in the car with you so you don't take him right here.

Wooyoung opens the door and gets out, then helps you out of the car by holding your hand. After thanking the driver and telling him to have a great night, the car drives off.

He takes off the mask again and shoves it into his pocket, grinning at you when he notices your intense staring. Even if it's meant to be teasing his smile truly is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

The two of you walk up to the front door of the dorm he shares with the leader and the maknae of his group. After the move that divided the eight of them into three separate places, meeting him at the dorm had become a lot less stressful.

Before there was no privacy at all and the rest of the men would tease Wooyoung any chance they'd get. Sure, it was out of love for him but the amount of times one of the seven had walked in on a makeout session was starting to become ridiculous.

Wooyoung pulls out his keys and as he tries to get the dorm key in the lock, the focused look on his face makes you snap and finally jump him. He manages to get the door open just as you turn his head towards you and slot your mouths together. He lets out surprised gasp at your enthusiasm and you use the opportunity to shove your tongue into his mouth.

The two of you stumble into the dark apartment with your lips locked. You kiss him harder and he whimpers, loving the feel of you on him. Wooyoung has his hands holding tightly onto your hips and eyes shut in pleasure but despite that he still manages to turn the lights on in the hallway, very telling of how often you've done this together.

You tap him lightly on the shoulder and he gets your signal, your minds and bodies dancing in harmony, something that makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. He removes your jacket while you take off his and start unbuttoning the shirt underneath. Leaving everything extra at the front door the two of you run to his room hand in hand giggling to each other with lovesick eyes.

Fuck it, the spa session and movies can wait until later.

He opens the bedroom door, pushes you in and closes it behind you both. Crowding him in against the door you continue making out. You run your hands through his silky hair, tug on it and Wooyoung lets out a pathetic whimper, grinding his already hardening dick against your leg. You push his open shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

"Hey... no fair, you have to take yours off too!", he breaks the kiss to pout at you.

"Oh, I'm sorry Youngie... I thought I was in control here? When did you get so demanding, huh?"

He stays quiet and looks down, you can almost see the conflict in his eyes. Should he keep teasing you and risk a punishment or listen like a good boy and get his reward for being such an incredibly thoughtful and sweet boyfriend today?

"Well? How's it gonna be little kitty, are you gonna be good and listen to me?"

He looks up at you through the hair covering his beautiful brown eyes, "... Yeah... yes please, baby," Wooyoung whispers, "I'll- I'll listen- I want you, please."

"Mmm, my good boy, thank you...", you coo at him and kiss him on the cheek. "I'll take such good care of you Woo." His whole face down to his neck flushes red in excitement and arousal. He's so greedy for praise and compliments...

"Take off your clothes and get on the bed for me, won't you kitty?", you tilt his face towards you and he shivers, nodding. He does as told and situates himself in the middle of the bed, looking at you while you stand at the foot of the bed. Slowly you take your clothes off and his eyes widen.

Taking in the sexy red lingerie, barely covering anything, he gulps and grips the knees of his pants, "A-ah shit, what the fuck... You're so sexy...", his face scrunches, shuddering breaths leaving his mouth. You giggle at his obvious arousal, cupping your tits in your hands and groping them. His hands twitch, like he's itching to move them to his very noticeable erection.

"Thank you, sweet kitty. I thought I'd give you a nice little surprise today...", your hands run lower on your body and to the back, leaving them on your ass.

Turning around, you bend over to show off exactly what he wants to see. "Would you like your treat now?", you ask as you run your other hand lower towards your already eager pussy. He takes in a breath through his gritted teeth and watches you stand up straight to take off the bra top of the red set. You get on the bed and he turns towards you as you do, never taking his eyes off of you.

"Come get your treat then kitty", you spread your legs as he crashes down on the mattress, panting like a dog in heat. Not waiting another second he brings his hands down to your hips to take off the remaining piece of clothing.

Wooyoung lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt, moaning in delight at finally getting a taste of you. He pushes his tongue in your hole and thrusts it in and out for a bit gathering your wetness on his tongue.

Him moaning into your pussy makes your legs shake and do your best to keep them from shutting around his face. Seeing you you so lost in the feeling of his talented tongue makes him grind his crotch against the mattress, losing himself in the feeling and taste of you on his mouth. He lifts his face for a moment to take a breath.

"I love you so much... my baby, fuck... You taste so good", he buries his face between your legs again, gripping tightly onto your thighs to keep you as close as possible. Lapping at your clit, he groans in satisfaction.

"F-fuck Youngie... You're so g- so good for me", you gather the hair on the back of his head into your hands and guide him even closer to your wet heat, so that he's buried nose deep in you.

The pressure makes him groan into you and the vibrations of his voice in turn make your legs twitch shut around his head for a moment.

"Shit! My good... fuck, good boy! Doing so well for me kitty", your voice shudders, hands gripping his hair harder.

Soon you find yourself craving something more. "Ah, fingers too kitty...", you tell him, desperately needing any part of him in you, craving to be closer to him in any way possible. And just like the good boy he can, he listens to your command immediately.

Going straight for two to properly stretch you for his cock, he pushes them in and scissors them, sucking on your clit at the same time.

He continues to play with your pussy and it doesn't take you long to get close from his skilled hands. In just a couple more moves of his fingers your pussy throbs and you come around them, making you moan his name loudly in pleasure.

You don't wait long to come down, instead you sit up and push him down by his chest and straddle him, running your hands over his smooth skin.

"Wooyoungie... Let me take care of you ok? You'll let me, right?", you coo at him sweetly, seeing his eyes cloud over in ecstasy as your fingers find his sensitive brown nipples.

"Haa- ah! Yeah yeah, please, hah!", he thrashes his head from side to side on the pillow, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. You grind your wet pussy against his hard cock and his whole body jolts under you. He lets out a long wound out moan at the promise of getting to be inside you soon. Finally you take him in your hand, position him under you and start lowering yourself on his dick.

His head tilts back as he groans at the feel of you around him, hands immediately flying to your hips to hold onto anything, as you don't wait to start moving on him. He bucks his hips up towards you and you decide to let him, for the sake of Valentine's day.

You put your hands on the sides of his head and lower your face to his, kissing him with fervour as you keep moving your bodies in tandem.

You move your other hand to his hair again and tug on it, making him whimper. He lets go of your kiss to bare his neck to you and you move your mouth to it to mark him to your liking. Already feeling close after your first orgasm it doesn't take very long to feel it building up again and seeing how Wooyoung can barely contain himself it's obvious he's not that far off either.

"You- ah, you gonna come ki-itty? For me yeah??", you lick along his collar bone and tug hard on his hair.

All that he can let out is a silent scream as he throws his head back further and comes in you, mouthing out something along the lines of 'please, yes, yes god, please!!'.

Seeing his brain shut off in pleasure makes you come around him as well and you stop bouncing on his cock, letting him stay in you as you both come down for your highs together, feeling his cum in you.

"Happy Valentine's my good boy, I love you so much", you kiss him on the lips even if he's barely able to reciprocate, running his hands along your back to ground himself.

You decide to rest with him a bit, not having enough energy to get yourselves clean just yet. For now, you just want to feel him close to you.

Your sweet, caring, thoughtful boyfriend.

© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works

[evvyyypeters-fics]

Dragon Prince! Evan Peters Headcanons + ( x gn!reader)

Warnings! Mentions of violence, fluff, little angst, lots of rambling and dragon lore stuff, not rlly proofread

Disclaimer! This is obviously not an accurate representation of Evan Peters as a person. This is a characterized/ fictionalized idea/ concept. Do not take this as fact. It is entirely fiction and based on my own opinions, thoughts and conception.

Good lord this photo does things to me. Eye contact with Evan has me melting

Requested by @jazz-berry (as usual) and inspired by @lemoniiiiiii

Y/N is definitely a self made boss, bounty hunter/ hunter/ pirate/ archer, etc. and Evan is extremely protective over them, it’s in his nature, but he knows how they feel about him being overbearing or getting in the way of them having their independence. So he kind of steps to the side, while keeping a big eye on Y/N. And if they’re ever in immediate danger and he’s around, you know he’s going to be the one to come save their ass instantly. He’ll be dramatic about it too, he has a stoic face where he acts like he isn’t super worried, but he’ll pick Y/N up even if they aren’t injured bridal style and carry them to a log or some sort of chair, bench or bed to sit down and heal.

“Y/N” He shouts, his voice louder than anything you had heard before, it was passionate and almost frantic. And yet, it almost sounded like a roar with the anger that was built up inside.

He rushed towards the dragon that had trapped me at the edge of a forest, its leaves barbed by rows of thorn bushes. To enter them would not only seal my fate, but also be a painful journey. And Evan was allowing neither. His cape bellowed, flickering before my eyes before I could clear the blood dripping from my head and traveling down my eye, his stance confident before the tall beast. He drew his long sword, sheathing it and wielding the heavy weapon between both hands.

I knew that Evan was the ‘dragon prince’ (even though I truly didn’t fully understand what that meant yet), but it still amazed me each time that just the mere look inside of his eyes and the gleam of his large sword made the firey creature cower, picking up its heavy wings, floating above the large scape of land. The grass shuddering beneath each audible flap, Evan’s gaze following the dragon as it rose in the air and turned away, disappearing behind the icy capped mountains in the distant lands. Evan instantly pivoted on his heels towards me, sheathing his sword back into its halter. I could hear the jingle of the chainmail on his armor and the buckle of his boots as he hurried towards me, lowering himself to my wounded position in the grass. He places a leathery, comforting hand on my cheek as he eyes the wound that to his relief, quickly crusted.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.” He says in that same cold tone he always uses. But there’s something oddly sweet with the way he scoops me up from under my knees, forcing my arms to flail around his shoulders, holding him tight as he carries me back to the kingdom like his bride.

“Is this truly necessary?” I ask, flustered. He only hums in response, not letting go. In fact, I swear I could feel his grip get tighter for a moment, adjusting me more comfortably in his arms. My eyes focused on his stubbly chin, his cape flickering behind him in the corner of my eye.

Headcanons:

(lore)

- He’s a dragon prince, so I think he would actually have some sort of DNA connection with the dragons/ spiritual one. His main defense mechanism against them being his ability to communicate with them, more in a telepathic sense. His eyes may glow yellow or have a more “dragon-like” appearance when he uses that part of himself

- He has a sword specifically made to pierce the tough scales of a dragon and is derived from special materials that are toxic to dragons

- Anyone can train a dragon in this world, but he has an easier time due to his communication ability, being able to tame them easier. He has lots of dragons who he is allied with who help me slay the other territories.

- There are multiple kingdoms made of dragons, and they go to war with each other, and humans can get crossed in this mix which is where he comes into the picture

- He’s sort of a hybrid mitigator for dragon-human wars, and even helps the dragon allies with their own turf wars

- His main duty is as a guard/ knight for the kingdom, he keeps watch for dragon attacks as well as humans. He used often as a weapon against dragons by the kingdom

- The royal family of the kingdom doesn’t recognize being a “dragon prince” as a real royal standing, so while he’s technically royalty and is part of a rare bloodline, he is not considered so by many. The highest ranking he has is being close to a commander/ knight, but only in the ordeal of dealing with dragons during war/ an attack

- He has his limits when it comes to slaying dragons. He will only slay dragons that are an active threat to the kingdom or someone he loves. He will never slay a dragon without a valid reason, and will negotiate with them before making any attacks

- He’s part of a royal bloodline, mixed between dragon and human, they’ve existed for thousands of years but were feared by many and slowly died out/ got colonized/ executed. He was abandoned/ his family was massacred when he was young and was found by a blacksmith of the kingdom when he was young. So he didn’t know he was part of the rare bloodline until he came in contact with a dragon when he was 13 and learned of his ability. His father then told him the truth of his origins and he began training as a knight to become a guard in the kingdom, thanks to the help of his adoptive father.

- He sometimes gets visions of the future, of course pertaining to things that involve dragons, but also premonitions of things that could lead to the end of the world. Dragons and humans are interlinked from ancient history, so certain clashes have almost led to the destruction of the world. There were a few ice ages and purges of life, but they eventually came back. Evan can get dreams/ spontaneous visions of these events due to his connection to both human and dragon and it’s essentially his job to keep order.

- There are others like him in the world, but because the bloodline has died out so much, they are rare to come by and most that are aware of what they are have hidden away in fear of being sought after and murdered for their powers.

- The kingdom where Evan lives needs his powers to survive in the kingdom because they live right on the edge of a mountain range where on the other side all the other dragon kingdoms reside, so they are more likely to get attacked or hit in a crossfire. Evan living there gets automatic protection, so he hasn’t left and is given fairly decent hospitality. He also has lived there his entire life and hasn’t put much thought into the outside world. Too focused on the job he has in his home to consider exploring or finding others

(relationship to Y/N)

- Y/N and Evan have known each other since they were kids. Around 6-7. They didn’t always get along, having a more frenemies relationship where they would pick on each other.

- As they got older they both became closer and better friends, relating on the fact that the other teens and children of the kingdom found them weird and they were both slowly isolating to each other

- They spent a lot of time together by the creek/ river, playing in the woods and skipping rocks

- They would both stay out together as long as they could, avoiding their own homes because not only did they not want the fun to end, but they both didn’t want to go back to their homes where their lives didn’t feel perfect or less lonely

- They found solace in their friendship together

- They each had their own separate dreams, Y/N wanted to explore the world outside the kingdom whereas Evan wanted to stay in the kingdom forever and become a knight. This caused them to start fighting again occasionally when the topic was brought up, and as they got even older, they began to distance themselves

- Y/N was the first to know about Evan’s connection to the dragons, having been there when they were playing by the edge of the woods and a dragon came and landed in front of them. Evan, being naturally protective, got in front of Y/N and found he could speak with the dragon and have an understanding. But Y/N, not having any such power just saw the two standing before each other for a few tense minutes before the dragon flew away

- They were both freaked by the incident at the time, and as they talked more about, became slightly excited. Evan already knew he wanted to use his talent to protect the kingdom, but Y/N believed he could do more with it. Like bringing peace between the humans and dragons for millenium.

- Eventually they both turned 18, and Y/N fled the kingdom and began traveling while Evan stayed and became a knight

- They spent at least a decade apart until Y/N came back to the kingdom with a group of thieves, helping them steal money from the townsfolk and hoping to steal the riches from the kingdom. They had their own reasons for doing so, mainly just trying to keep themselves alive and look out for themselves.

- Evan hears about the group of thieves that have entered the kingdom and is tasked with keeping them out of the castle. He catches one of them during a small ambush, realizing it’s Y/N he is confused, angry and distraught. They explain their reasoning for being a part of the group and the pair are still on rocky terms

- In return for not sending Y/N to jail, they come to an agreement/ deal that they will help him track down the rest of the thieves and imprison them

- They slowly reunite and warm back up to each other, remembering the old days as they spend time together getting into fights across the kingdom to find the thieves and catch them before they get to the castle, rekindling their once broken friendship

- They bond over their individual memories, Y/N telling Evan stories of the outside world and what they were doing, and Evan talking about his adventures as a knight and mitigating for the dragons and the kingdom

“You know, when we were kids, I had a huge crush on you.” I laughed as my stomach tickled, feeling the warm flames of the fire flickering, licking and trying to reach me from its cage of rocks and sticks, only getting a small tickle of warmth through the cold night air.

The stars were heavy above, twinkling like the ripples of water from the ocean. I could see Evan’s stoic face, outlined sharply by the yellow flames dancing across it. His cape draped over the back of the thick log he was perched upon. Despite the blank expression on his face, I swear I saw a twinkle in his eyes of surprise and that’s when I felt the air around us get thickly uncomfortable. The silence becomes stale and quieter, practically deafening if it weren't for the chirp of the crickets–which I call the birds of the night. It’s almost as if he can sense that his reaction has made things more awkward, because he lowers his gaze to the fire and says something I truly didn’t expect.

“Yeah, so did I.” His voice is soft, almost romantic in a way. I feel as if the wind has been knocked from my lungs. All this time, the boy–the man, who had been in the back of my mind all of these years. The one who got away, the one who I had never thought in a million years would ever love someone like me. He just admitted he had a crush on me? I could hardly fathom it, let alone hear it. I almost believed I was dreaming.

“Is it that surprising?” He asks curiously, as if I gave him an offended look, realizing that my eyes were probably blown into saucers after what he said because I feel him practically snap me out of a daze with those words, forcing my face to relax. I can almost see a smile stretch at the corner of his mouth after my expression softens, his gaze finally lifted back to me fully and searching my eyes.

“N-No I uh, I mean I just–I didn’t expect that. Really.” I said, my words tripping over themselves. There was that silence again, the loud ambience of the night filling my ears back up like cotton balls.

“You know…” I said slowly, breaking the silence, my eyes flickering around. Trying not to land my gaze back into his eyes as I feel my heartbeat begin to quicken, squeezing inside of my chest. “I still think you’re kind of handsome…” I almost hoped he hadn’t heard me, too flustered by the admittance. My feelings hadn’t changed for Evan since the day I left him, if anything they had gotten worse the moment I saw that it was him who had caught me that day. The way he was so strong, perfectly groomed, the chubby look on his face I had always pictured of him was gone and in return left with the most perfect frame. His light curls thick and fluffy against his head, the length I had remembered that always covered his eyes having been cut to a charming length revealing the deep black pits that were his irises. A color that could only be matched to the obsidian with the way it shimmered and yet there was no light inside of them, as if it was soaked up inside of them.

I gain the courage to look at him again and I’m shocked to see that a rosy tint has spread across the apples of his cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. His eyes wide, the obsidian black irises stark against his sclera, like a pebble. I cover my lips as I catch an escaped giggle at his expression and he quickly softens it, realizing how stupid his reaction must have been. Now he’s the one who can barely look me in the eye.

There was something different about the rest of that night, in the way that we looked at one another. More attentive, more passionate, something lingering in the distance. Words unspoken and yet so many told. I don’t think I would have traded it for anything.

May do a part two if this is popular. You can request a fic about this concept if you want ♡

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re

[sh0tanzz]

shotaro as bf and ideal type pretty please, thankyouuu

SHOTARO AS YOUR BF based on astrology ~

(reminder that this for fun and astrology is something I study for a hobby, these are all inferences based off of observations and not exact fact unless I knew him myself !!)

Sagittarius Sun: In a vid Riize made around the time love119 came out Sohee asked the guys what they'd do if they accidentally liked their crushes posts and Sho said he wouldn't care and would let it be to show that he's interested...and yea that sums him up 😭. He'd be pretty blunt about being interested in you in the beginning..like imo when a sag sun genuinely wants you you'll know and they'll definitely LET you know, he'd ofc be your friend initially but he would most def be flirty (especially with that scorpio mercury sextile his cap venus) and try to have a specific personal rapport with you and inside jokes between you two. Would be a personal mission for him to make you laugh and spend time with you. Once you two are officially together he'd want to have so many fun memories with you. He also may have this want to "wow" you or show you things nobody else has shown you before.. "a taste of what youve been missing" type of guy yk. Similarly to Sohee, it would be like dating your bsf. There's an idea that Sag suns can be flighty but his cap/scorpio placements help anchor him down imo.

Scorpio Moon: Super Observant pt.1. The moon is in fall in scorpio and his moon is opposite to saturn so he might have a hard time expressing his more intense emotions. He might similarly to Eunseok keep things to himself and not really letting you know unless you pry it out of him or if he does attempt to tell you himself he'd be pretty vague to ensure that you don't worry. On the other hand, he's pretty big on things such as loyalty and honesty and that would be a big theme in the relationship. Super protective. He reads into your feelings and is pretty emotionally intuitive so he'd know how you feel without you needing to say much. A downside is he can take things pretty personal and if he feels hurt or betrayed he could be very struck down by it and might even feel like "returning the energy", it would be more passive since libra is in mars but it would be sooo obvious. Also his eye contact goes craaazyy.

Scorpio Mercury: Super Observant pt.2. He is very analytical and pays deep attention to what you say and how you say it, so he sometimes might overthink or worry himself by looking way too deep in between the lines of things you tell him. He has moon conjunct mercury so similar to Anton he can speak deeply from the heart as well as remembers everything in regards to you (downside if you said something that hurt his feelings he'd remember it FOREVERR). He also has venus sextile mercury so he most def has a seductive charm within his words or his flirting can be very upfront or comes naturally to him and since his mercury is in scorpio he'd know exactly what to say from your past reactions. Also he might stalk your insta when initially getting to know you to find out things himself.

Capricorn Venus: LOCKED IN LIKE GLUEEEE. Would prefer to take the lead or be the dominant counterpart. Cares sm about loyalty. Would rather talk through problems and endure throughout a relationship rather than just dropping everything. He loves physical touch and gift giving both ways. A common occurrence in Capricorn venus men is to kinda just constantly provide to keep their partner pleased so he may just randomly give you gifts and not just plain gifts they’d have a specific value to them or acts of service/doing tasks for you in order to keep you happy. Takes the relationship pretty seriously especially since he has a Scorpio moon. Since he has Venus square Mars he lowkey likes having to “endure” and for things not to be super easy? He enjoys a cat and mouse dynamic or for one partner to not give in so easily..kind of as though he kinda has to work for your love and attention or a "hate"/love kind of situation. He might also deal with a lot of "right person, wrong timing" scenarios or have periods where he just can't be 100% there for his partner and the guilt of it probably eats him up inside. Quietly possessive, seems ok and says he’s ok on the surface but inside he’s seething trying to not start tweaking. 😭

Libra Mars: Pretty avoidant when there’s a severe conflict in the relationship. He might wait to actually get to the bottom of the issue and may jump around the topic but when it’s time to finally speak up and out he really does try to speak from his heart from his Scorpio mercury. He just really cares about coming together again and keeping the peace 😭. If there were issues he’d either become distant or passive aggressive. His Mars is sextile Pluto so he can be very intense and even obsessive about things like passion and consistency but due to the fact the aspect isn’t harsh and his mars is in libra his approach isn’t as harsh or threatening. Very quick to become your friend or at least familiar with you when he’s first interested in you because how else will he find out as much as he possibly can.. He might lowkey put his emotions to the side to pay more attention to yours and what you have going on/your happiness and deal with his issues on his own. He also has mars trine uranus so he may have random bursts of being passionate and energetic and then a random switch to being chill and more to himself.

[pianokantzart]

The brotherly moments are what I’m looking forward to the most for the sequel. I’m hoping we can potentially get a scene that will top the reunion scene. Are there certain kinds of brotherly love moments you’d like to see in the sequel?

Big same. What I'm most looking forward to is all the little subtle shows of affection: headlocks, side hugs, cap tugs, belly pokes, shoulder nudges, jabs, jostles... all the bits of body language that made their relationship feel so close and real in the first movie. And of course, the return of that silly little secret handshake.

Another thing I want to see is more of Mario's protectiveness. I know some are hoping that he gets a little overprotective after being separated from his bro in the first movie, but if we don't get that I want to at least see Mario's pre-adventure protectiveness.

Or the kind of protectiveness he exhibited in the Super Mario Adventures comics, where even though he's focused on the fight he always keeps an eye on his brother, and the moment Luigi calls out for help he immediately becomes first priority.

On the flip side, I want to see more of Luigi being the emotional support/voice of reason. He may be a ball of nerves in moments of peril, but he's proven to be very levelheaded overall. Since I picture the arc of the sequel being Mario slowly coming to embrace the role of a true hero– with all the responsibilities that come with it– it'd be nice if he had a low moment of feeling like a failure that Luigi talks him out of.

Now, if they're going to try and top the reunion scene in the first movie, there is one surefire way to do that: slow down. As good as that hug was, there was so much going on that it was hard to feel the full impact on the first watch. Quiet things down for a moment... pump the breaks... focus in on the facial expressions... let us really feel the hug. Throw in another forehead touch while you're at it.

But you know what I'm really really excited to see? Sword and shield fight dynamic. I desperately want to see them fighting side-by-side without the superstar! Give me Mario spearheading the charge while Luigi watches his blindside! Mario throwing himself mindlessly into a dangerous stunt so long as Luigi is there to catch him, Mario fighting in close combat while Luigi draws the target's attention with long-range attacks, both of them falling into perfect synch when they need to deliver an extra-powerful blow.

I am so aggressively obsessed with the idea of their character traits being fully exhibited and explored through the way they approach a fight, you have no idea.

[skinomyteethh]

Nikki Sixx x reader fanfic? Can be anything :)

mistakes

pairing: nikki sixx x fem! reader

summary; overcoming addiction is hard, especially when you feel like you're in an overwhelming, somewhat lonely place.

contains/warnings; substance abuse i think, nikki relapsing, slight angst?, etc.

authors note; HIIII TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!! I really hope you like this, I honestly didn't know how to end it and it may be all over the place, I haven't written in a WHILEEEEE. also theres some hidden message in the but i cant put it into words rn lolol!

⁶𖤐⁶

moet et chandon decorated the large, wooden cabinets of the dining room, making it look beautifully elegant and sophisticated. the variety of random desserts and pastries made her think of marie antoinette's famous but factitious phrase 'let them eat cake!'

[name] hummed, carefully fixing the flowers in the vases which sat in the middle of the long dining table. it was unlike any other gathering or party Nikki and [name] had ever hosted or gone to. it was unlike the usual rock 'n' roll scene filled with endless booze and random naked women.

as the people began to arrive, the atmosphere was extraordinarily nice. people well versed in etiquette filled the room, cigar smoke lingered throughout the air. nikki shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking around, somewhat nervous. it was unusual of him to be so quiet, so reserved. a small smile spread across his face upon seeing his wife 'in her element'

yet, nikki felt as if he didn't belong there, it was too calm, too relaxed for his liking and what he was use to.

just before the dessert was served he excused himself, walking towards the stairs of his rather luxurious house. nikki entered the master bedroom, opening the multiple dresser drawers frantically searching, for something that would take these feelings away, heroin.

he grasped the medical grade needle, leaning against the bed, ripping the cap of the needle off. nikki opened the bottom drawer of the bedside table, grabbing a somewhat long piece of rope, tying it around his upper arm. nikki took a deep breath, sighing in ecstasy as the needle and the continents of the needle flowed into his veins.

nikki laid his head down against the mattress, closing his eyes. [name] felt somewhat confused, nikki had been gone for far too long. she pranced upstairs, pulling the hem of her dress up as to not step on it. sounds of vomiting could be heard from inside the master bedroom, she knew exactly what that meant, exactly what nikki had been doing.

she quietly entered the bedroom, leaning over and glancing into the connected bathroom. nikki's head hung over the toilet bowl as he once again began vomiting, it was the aftermath of the heroin. [name] glanced down at the ground, picking up the discarded needle, throwing it into the trash can by the vanity.

the loud and unexpected sound of the needle clashing against the metal trash can scared nikki, he haphazardly stood up, his expression filled with worry as he spotted her sitting on the surprisingly neat bed. nikki had broken his promise.

on the day of their wedding he promised he would quit and even go to rehabilitation, but now he had broken his promise and it seemed to have shattered her heart. nikki cautiously inched closer to her, attempting to somehow be able to explain the situation.

"[name] I...." he was caught off by her abrupt movement as she tilted her head up to look at him, though the look om her face did not radiate anger nor frustration, it radiated disappointment but she also seemed somewhat understanding. "why nikki..?" she questioned, her tone was soft and once again the disappointment was evident.

he looked down at the carpet before looking back up at her, sighing before he parted his lips, beginning to speak. "I felt overwhelmed, I didn't know what to do. I felt like I didn't belong there.."

a calm and sophisticated scenery was not what he was use to, it made him feel like an outsider, a weirdo.

nikki glanced back down at the carpet, he excepted her to lash out at him, scream at him for slipping up, but she didn't, instead he felt her arm wrap around him securely and lovingly, he laid his head down on her shoulder, sighing.

[name] seemed to somewhat understand him, her hand gently caressed his upper arm before she freed him from her grasp, speaking once again. "I know quitting isn't easy, and as you begin sometimes you'll slip up unintentionally." she glanced over at the doorway, sighing deeply before placing a soft, quick kiss on his lips.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (8)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Please note the updated warnings. These next few chapters are a new stage of Bradley and Pumpkin growing back together, and while I'm very excited about it, I know it may not be for everyone. For everyone who sticks around, please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

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You’re working today. You hadn’t wanted to, but a local congresswoman you had requested an interview with months ago finally agreed to a conversation in her office, and Bradley wouldn’t let you pass it up. It was only for a few hours, but he finds himself missing you while you’re gone. 

This is the first time he had really been alone in the house for a long period of time since he got back from the hospital a month ago, and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had tried to read a book, or get lost in a movie, but nothing had really kept his attention. He was laying on the couch, the news on the tv in the background, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t fully dove into all that it contained, and he figured now was the time to do it, even if you weren’t here to answer any questions that he might have. 

It’s interesting, seeing himself this way. Groupchats where he was an active participant, talking about parties or plans he has no recollection of, or discussing flight schedules for the week. He swaps Star Wars and Harry Potter trivia with Fanboy and gym regimes with Hangman and sends music back and forth with Coyote.  

When he opens the text thread he has with you, the only one pinned to the top of his messages, his breath catches at the last message received. 

 I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.

It was sent the day of his accident, and he knew by the time stamp that it was sent after the crash. You must have texted that to him while you were waiting for news on his condition, and not for the first time, he feels both guilt and gratitude go through him; he’s so sorry that he’s hurt you like this, but he’s so glad he’s here now. 

He scrolls for a while, reading you rambling to him about your work day and bouncing ideas for articles off of him, jumping from one topic to the next while you know he’s in the air or teaching a class so he doesn’t have his phone on him. Based on his responses that come later on, he knows he never minded the almost nonsensical messages. Even now, he finds it adorable and enjoys reading through them. There are conversations about dinner and what true crime documentary the two of you were going to watch that weekend. 

There’s a little bit of everything in these messages between the two of you, but his brow furrows when he gets to a point about a week before his accident. 

I’m on my way home, he had texted you, You better be ready for me, Pumpkin. 

He scrolls further up, trying to find the beginning of the conversation that led to that, and he almost wishes he wouldn’t have. 

You had texted him earlier that morning, when he barely must have left the house to go to base, a picture of you. There was a playful smirk on your lips, and you had what looked to be the cap from his formal dress whites perched crooked on your head. That in and of itself wasn’t what made his breath hitch, though. It was the fact that you were still in bed, your arm draped over your chest where he could see everything but everything, you hanging onto only a single shred of decency. 

Fly well today, Lieutenant Commander. 

It had descended into a day full of teasing from there, each message dirtier than the one before. Descriptions of what you wanted him to do to you and him warning you of what he would do when he got his hands on you. He feels flushed all over, but he keeps scrolling up. He bypasses recipes you wanted his opinion on and a reminder of what the Hulu password was, and eventually finds more pictures. Some are more risque than others, but all of them make him feel like the temperature in the room rose by multiple degrees. 

There’s a tickle in his brain again, and he finds himself closing the messaging app and going to his photo albums. There’s a locked album there, and he knows, he just knows what it’s going to contain. 

He shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t. It feels like a strange invasion of privacy. But he’s wracking his mind to try and remember what the code would be to get into it anyway, and he curses when he gets it wrong first once, then a second time. He enters your birthday on the third attempt and groans out loud when he’s immediately met with the filthiest images he’s ever seen. 

It’s a whole gallery of you, or the two of you together, and Bradley can’t stop himself from looking. He bites his lip as he takes in the photos, his mind so overrun with thoughts of how fucking stunning you are that he can barely think straight at all. 

He stops at one in particular, clicking to enlarge it, and loses all thoughts entirely. Neither of your faces are in it, but he doesn’t need to guess that it’s the two of you. You’re sitting back against his chest, his ankles hooked over your legs, forcing them wide for him. He can see your nails biting into his thighs, but it’s his own hand that draws his attention. With the hand that’s not taking the selfie style photo, his fingers are gliding through the wetness gathered between your legs. You shine against the dark wedding band on his left land, one that’s noticeably absent from his finger now. He’s practically panting as he stares. 

He’s so hypnotized by the way the two of you look together that he doesn’t hear the garage door open or the sound of you walking into the house. 

“Baby?” 

Your voice makes him jump so high that his phone goes flying out of his hand, a curse leaving his lips. He scrambles to pick it up when he sees you reaching for it as well, and your eyebrows are raised high as you look at him in surprise. 

“Hey,” his voice cracks, higher pitched than normal, and he blushes. Your eyebrows raise a little bit higher. “Hi, sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yup,” he nods, faking a cough so he could try to clear his throat, his face flushed. “Totally fine.” 

It’s not difficult to see how skeptical you are, and it’s hard for him to maintain eye contact with you and not let his eyes flicker down your body now that he has an idea of what rests underneath the smart dress you wore. 

You eye him suspiciously, “Are you sure?”  

He contemplates for a moment, trying to figure out a way to get himself out of this conversation, because the longer you looked at him like that the hotter he became under the collar. He took a deep breath, nodding again. 

“I was looking at messages and pictures,” he says all in one breath, not liking the idea of completely lying to you. He rationalized that a different version of the truth was okay, even as the pictures flashed in his mind again. “Trying to see if anything jogged my memory.” 

You search his eyes, and he tries his best to appear innocent, willing the hardening in his jeans to go down before you took notice. He suspected you already might have from the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Did it?” 

If he thought hard enough he swore he could almost feel you. Your back against his chest, how soft your inner thighs left. How warm your wetness felt against his fingers as he took you to the edge. 

“No,” he stutters out after a moment, shaking his head, his face burning, “nothing yet.” 

________

He finds himself rubbing his thumb against the fading tan line on his left ring finger, something he had seen you do time and time again. He hadn’t really wondered up until this point where his ring was, but ever since he saw the picture with it so clearly against your skin, he couldn’t get it out of his head. 

He’s helping you in the kitchen a few days later, mesmerized as always by how efficient and easy you made everything look. You roll your eyes when he comments on it.

“It’s cookies, Bradley. Nothing fancy.”

“But they’re from scratch. The dough isn’t pre-made. That’s fancy!” 

You laugh at him in response, shaking your head. You take the rings on your left hand off, sitting them beside the sink as you wash your hands before the two of you get started. It raises the subject back to the forefront of his mind. He had been desperate to ask you for the last few days, but hadn’t built up the courage to do it. But he can almost feel it on his finger now, can feel a ghost of your fingers as you slide it into place, and it’s suddenly more of a need to know. 

“Can I uh…can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“What happened to my wedding ring?” 

You pause from where you’re cracking an egg into the mixing bowl, your eyebrows raised high. You set it down gently, turning to face him. 

“Does it bother you…that I wear mine, still?” 

“No!” he insists, hating even the idea of you taking it off. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I promise. We just have never acknowledged mine? I know that I wear one - I remember wearing one, and I’ve seen it in pictures, too.” 

“You love your ring,” you tell him softly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But you give him a small smile, though he can see the pain in your eyes, and shake your head. 

“You don’t fly with it on,” you explain, “you tried, at first, but you had been flying so long without anything on your hands that you couldn’t get used to it being there when you were operating the controls.” 

He thinks for a moment and the words come to him slowly. “You were the one who told me to start taking it off when I fly.” 

“I was.” 

“Why?”

Your lips quirk and you shrug. “I’m more worried about you flying safely than wearing your ring at all times. You keep it in one of the pockets of your flight suit when you go up in the air now.” 

Of course you were more worried for him. He should have expected nothing less from you and the way you effortlessly care for him. He can also picture that, he thinks. It’s easy to imagine not wanting to be separated from the physical reminder that he belongs to you, so even if he couldn’t wear it, he’d at least have it on him, in the inner chest pocket right above his heart. 

“So..” He doesn’t quite know how to ask his question, but you must read it on his face. 

You twist your own ring on your finger in the way you always seemed to do to center yourself. Pain flashed across your face and Bradley knew you were remembering, too. “They uh..they had to cut your flight suit off, before you went into surgery. You weren’t breathing and were bleeding…” you cut yourself off, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the visual from your head. “But it was still in your pocket. So. I have it.” 

He sets down the bag of chocolate chips he had been holding and walks the few steps to where you’re standing at the counter. When he holds his arms open, you don’t hesitate to step into them. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he breathes in your scent. 

“I’m so sorry I put you through that,” he whispers into the strands of your hair, and he feels the way you squeeze him in response. 

“You’re okay now,” you speak into his chest, and he thinks he might feel you press a kiss there, directly over the spot where that inner pocket of his flight suit would be, where he kept you when he had no other choice. 

The two of you stand there wrapped up together for a long moment. When you lift your head, your eyes are glassy, but you give him a smile and a small kiss to his lips. 

Later, after the cookies have been made and devoured, you join him on the back porch. You had taken to sitting on the swing together and when you sit beside him tonight, he sees you rolling something between your fingers. His breath catches when he sees exactly what it is. You’re staring at it too, your gaze intense and pondering. He doesn’t speak, not quite knowing what to say. Eventually, you break out of your haze and meet his eyes. 

“You don’t have to put it back on,” you tell him, holding your hand out to him. His wedding band sits on your palm, shining against your skin. For a moment he sees you in white standing right in front of him, wildflowers in your hair.  

His fingertips brush yours when he takes it from you, admiring the piece of jewelry he wasn’t aware that he missed until it was back in his possession. 

“But it’s yours. I want - I want you to have it.”

He rolls it between his fingers, contemplating for a moment. He swallows, suddenly overcome with emotion he hadn’t seen coming and that tingling that’s starting to become familiar to him. You had picked it out yourself and he knows when he looks, he’ll see an engraving of your initials beside his. He was always so proud to be able to wear this, knowing that it symbolized being with you, a small way of telling anyone who saw it that he was lucky enough to be your husband. 

But he wasn’t him - not yet, not completely. Everyday brought him closer to thinking that he could be, though.

“Pumpkin, I…” he trailed off, not sure what to say. 

“Hey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek and turning his head to meet your eyes. You didn’t look mad, or upset, and you’re giving him the gentlest, kindest look anyone ever had. But your eyes didn’t hold pity or sympathy either - just a trust and love that he’s still not sure what he could have ever done to deserve. “Whenever you’re ready. And if you never are-” 

“I will be,” he cut you off; he wanted nothing more than to be ready. “I just…I still have something to prove to myself.” 

You nod, and Bradley leans forward to kiss you softly. He leaves his forehead pressed against yours when he pulls away, relishing in the calm you brought him. 

“I’ll get there,” he says, “I promise.” 

—------

He’s spent time alone, but he hasn’t spent time away from you with other people. He’s hesitant to accept the invite from Mav to visit the hanger he had here. But planes and his godfather had been a staple of Bradley’s childhood, an influence on his whole life, really. He had been cleared to drive earlier in the week, so that Saturday, he leaves early. He’s anxious at the thought of being away from you but he knows that the him from before wouldn’t have said no to the invitation and he was so determined to get back to who that was. And he knows that you have a life outside of taking care of him, too. You’re getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife later and he knows you’re excited, even if you hung onto him a little bit longer than a normal hug when he said goodbye. You had made him promise that he would call you if he needed anything and the whole way to the desert, his fingers twitched, wanting to call you just to hear your voice. 

Mav greets him with a large smile and a tight hug, “I’m glad you could make it.” 

“Me too,” Bradley says. He means it, even if he does miss you already. He looks around the hanger, taking note of the few planes and motorcycles throughout the long stretch. It was a lot more than the collection he had when Bradley was 17. “What are we working on today?” 

Mav gives him his signature grin. “I want to show you something.” 

He follows him to the end of the hanger, where a large blue tarp is covering what can’t be anything but a plane. His godfather gestures to it. Bradley raises an eyebrow but walks up to it, grabbing hold of the tarp and yanking it back. Like he suspected, he’s greeted by a Cessna. It’s a classic 172 by the looks of it, a smaller four seater. It’s a sleek white in color with subtle burnt orange line work. Bradley whistles. It was beautiful in a way that only planes like this could be. 

“When’d you get this one?” 

Mav smirks, shaking his head. “I didn’t.” 

“What?” 

“Take a look at the other side.” He nods his head, urging Bradley forward. Confused and intrigued, he follows the instructions, walking around to the other side of the small plane. He gets what Mav was saying, then, and sucks in a breath. Right there emblazoned on the side, in an elegant script, was Pumpkin.

This wasn’t Mav’s plane; it was his. 

“You got her about six months ago,” he says softly when he joins him at his side. 

Bradley reaches up and runs his fingers over the name. It’s foggy, but he thinks he can remember now. He had always wanted to own his own plane since the first time his godfather took him up in one at 6 years old. It was always a pipedream, though. He was never in one place for long enough, and while he was generally good with saving money, it was a bigger purchase than he had ever made. But then the two of you got married and a permanent station here in California. Between both of your savings and what he still had of his parents life insurance, the funds were there. It was you who had made the suggestion of finally pulling the trigger, and it was him who had suggested a four seater instead of a two seater so that if the two of you ever had children, you could all fly together. You cried when he showed you the name he had painted on it. 

“Still needs some work done before she’s flyable. I thought maybe you’d want to work on it today.” 

An eager smile appears on his face and he nods, already peeling his jacket off and heading toward the toolbox. If Mav noticed that he didn’t need to instruct him on where it was, he didn’t comment on it. 

The two work in tandem for hours. It had only been six weeks since his accident, but he couldn’t recall a time since flight school that he had gone this long without being near a plane and it felt good doing so again. It’s easy, getting into the rhythm of twisting bolts and tinkering with the engine wires. He thinks it won’t be long until he can get this cleared to go in the air and he knows without a doubt that you’re going to be the first passenger. 

His phone buzzes in the early afternoon and he doesn’t hesitate to put down the wrench he was working with and dig it out of his jeans pocket. You had sent him a selfie earlier when you had gotten to brunch, sunglasses on and a bright smile on your face with a mimosa in your hand, and he hoped it was another picture. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s Phoenix calling him, instead. He picks up, bringing the phone to his ear. 

“Nat?” 

“Your wife got stung by a bee. We’re on our way to the hospital.” 

He can feel the dread as it settles over him. His heart beats faster in his chest. “What?” 

She sighs on the other line, and he can hear commotion in the background. “She’s severely allergic, Rooster. We sat outside at brunch and we didn’t even realize it happened at first. She didn’t have her epipen on her so we had to call an ambulance. She’s going to be fine, but you should get here anyway, okay?” 

He feels like he can barely breathe, like the room is closing in on him a little bit. Mav must notice the panic written all over him because he’s quick to come over and take the phone out of his hand, taking over the conversation. He can barely hear him over the roaring in his head. You were hurt. He knew you were extremely allergic to bees. That was something he had remembered. You were supposed to carry an epipen on you at all times. He can’t remember if you’d ever gotten stung when he was there. He can’t remember how bad it got if you ever were. But now you were in the back of an ambulance and on your way to a hospital and he could feel his fear all the way down to his bones. 

“Bradley, hey. Look at me.” 

Mav is in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders. He meets his eyes and tries to breathe, but all he can see is you, struggling to catch a breath and being loaded into the back of an ambulance. 

“I’ll drive, okay? Let’s go.” 

He follows him to the car, not really calculating anything other than the fact that he was almost an hour away from you and what if there was traffic and why didn’t you have your epipen on you? 

“She’s going to be okay.” 

“But-” 

“Phoenix said the paramedics administered epi as soon as they arrived, and it didn’t take them long to get to her. She was awake and was already breathing easier when they left for the hospital. Didn’t even need to use the sirens.” 

That doesn’t make him feel better. Not really. Knowing that trained professionals weren’t panicking must have meant that you were okay, but he knows how serious anaphylaxis is, too. 

He can’t reconcile everything that he’s feeling right now. He has never, ever felt like this before. The thought of something happening to you is scarier than any mission he had ever been on, any enemy he had encountered in the air. 

“Mav I can’t - I can’t lose her. I just got her.” 

“You aren’t going to.” 

Bradley doesn’t say anything, can’t think of a single thing to say, and instead buries his head in his hands from his spot in the passenger seat. You were going to be okay. You had to be okay. Because he may not remember everything about the two of you, but he did know for certain that if something ever happened to you, he would never, ever recover from it. 

He doesn’t wait for Mav once they get to the hospital, the older man opting to drop him off at the front before going to find parking. He’s practically sprinting as he goes through the emergency room doors and vaguely, he remembers you telling him about the time this happened before, when you took yourself to the hospital and ended up needing surgery. He can almost feel that panic now, and it makes what he’s already feeling worse. 

“Can I help-“

“I’m looking for my wife. She was brought in because of a bee sting-“

“Sir-“

“She’s really allergic and-“

“Sir!” The nurse behind the counter snaps, raising her voice over his to get through to him. “I need your wife’s name if I’m going to find her for you.”

Oh. Yes, he thinks, your name. They need your name. 

It’s the first time he’s said your full name, and your first and his last name feel so right coming off his tongue. But he can’t focus on that right now, giving all of his attention to the nurse who is typing so slowly. 

Before she can even hit enter, though, he hears his callsign echo behind him. He spins, heart racing with anxiety, and spots Nat making her way over to him. She gives the annoyed nurse a kind, charming smile as she grabs Bradley by the arm 

“Sorry about him, ma’am. I got him from here.”

She pulls him away without another word, heading toward the hallway off the packed waiting room. 

“Is she okay? Nat, is-“

“She’s fine, Rooster. Coming down from the adrenaline rush that the epinephrine gave her, but she’ll be okay.”

“What about-“

Nat stops in front of a closed door, lowering her voice. “Bradley. She’s okay.” 

He’s pushing past her before she even finishes, spotting you on the bed through the glass and half drawn curtain. You look so small amongst the crinkly white sheets, still in the clothes you wore to brunch. Your makeup is a bit smudged and your eyes are red and he hates to think that you were scared enough to start crying. You’re holding an oxygen mask in your hand at your side. 

“Hi baby.” Even your voice sounds more pitched. He’s quick to make it to your side. 

Your breathing is slightly elevated, and the heart monitor is beating a little bit faster than he thinks is normal. He grabs the hand holding the mask, placing it over your mouth to start providing you with the supplemental air again. You make a small sound of surprise, but take in a deep breath of it anyway before pushing his hand away. 

“I’m okay.”

But your hands are shaking and your eyes are wider than normal. The skin that he can see is splotchy with hives. 

He looks back at Nat, who is still hovering in the doorway, an eyebrow arched and a small smirk on her face. He ignores the look. “Can you grab a doctor?”

You protest from the bed, but Bradley doesn’t waiver. With a fond roll of her eyes, Nat disappears from view. 

“Bradley. Sweetheart.” You grip his wrist, trying to get him to focus on you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re in the emergency room because you went into anaphylactic shock. You are not fine.” 

“But I am,” you insist, smiling softly at him, even as your body trembles as it works to burn through the adrenaline that was injected into it, “medicine worked just fine.” 

The door slides open before he can respond, an attending doctor who looks like he’s been up for longer than is healthy and in wrinkled green scrubs introducing himself as he walks in.

“Is she okay?” Bradley demands immediately, and the tired man looks startled for a moment at how abrupt the question was. Bradley stares at him, his eyes wide and unblinking as he waits for the answer. His heart is still pounding in his chest. He feels you tangle one of your hands with one of his and he squeezes back when he feels the pressure from you. He knows you’re trying to reassure him. 

“And you are…?” 

“I’m her husband,” he answers easily, the words falling off his tongue like he had said them a thousand times before. You suck in a small breath and tighten your grip on his hand again. 

“Ah,” the doctor hums, flipping through the chart he’s holding. Bradley wonders if all non-military hospitals move this slowly or if it was just because of how anxious he is at this moment, but he really, really needs him to answer his question. 

“Is she okay?” he repeats. 

“Bradley,” you murmur, but he keeps his eyes trained on the man in the scrubs and white coat. 

“She responded well to the epinephrine that was administered by the paramedics who brought her in,” he finally says, looking up from the chart and taking a step toward your side. He stops when he sees that Bradley doesn’t move an inch. He sighs, switching direction to go to your other side instead. “How are you feeling Mrs. Bradshaw?”

You answer his questions as they come, Bradley paying rapt attention the whole time. Your throat doesn’t feel tight anymore. You aren’t lightheaded, but you do feel a little shortness of breath. You feel jittery - wired, almost. You’re both assured that it’s completely normal as the drug works its way out of your system. They can give you something to try and calm you down, and they want you to stay for a few hours to make sure you don’t go back into the allergic reaction once the epinephrine has worn off. The thought makes his blood run cold. 

“Should she stay overnight?” he asks, but the doctor shakes his head no. 

“The standard observation timeslot should be just fine, Mr. Bradshaw. But we’ll make sure you both know what to look out for when you leave.” 

He walks out without saying much else. Bradley feels you tug on his hand, his name leaving your lips in a whisper. He meets your gaze and he watches as your eyes soften even more. 

“Sit down, honey.” 

He listens to you, dragging the chair beside your bed as close as possible. He rests his elbows on the mattress beside you, holding your hand tightly between both of his. 

“I’m okay,” you repeat again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your fingers and taking a deep breath. “I…this really scared me.” 

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say softly, running your thumb over one of the hands holding yours, soothing the skin and helping his racing heart. Your touch is like magic to him, providing an almost instant calm that he desperately needed. Guilt curled in his stomach, knowing that even now, you’re the one helping him. 

“I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.” 

“We comfort each other, baby. That’s how this works.” 

“Why didn’t you have your epipen on you, Pumpkin? Don’t you normally carry it?” he asks quietly, a touch of urgency still in his tone. He couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you were alone and this happened, with no one around to call 911. He could have lost you, all over a silly little bee sting, and he can’t wrap his mind around that. He just got you. He had had you, he knew. But he was just getting you back. 

“I switched bags this morning and forgot to take it out of the pocket of the old one, I guess. I haven’t had to use one since college. I forget about it, sometimes.” 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to rid himself of the worst case scenarios. He’s the one that normally reminds you to always have it on you, he thinks. He vaguely recalls having a spare in the glove compartment of the Bronco, and in the drawer in the kitchen and maybe one in the bedroom, too. 

Not for the first time, he curses his memory and the accident that took it from him. 

When he opens his eyes, his look is intense, “Never again, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, but Bradley shakes his head. 

“No. Promise me. Please?”

Your lips part and you stare at him for a long moment. His gaze never waivers from yours. He needs you to listen to him. To hear him. 

“I promise,” you finally whisper. 

He rises from the chair, pressing a kiss to your lips. He keeps his forehead against yours, breathing you in. 

“Will you lay with me?” You ask quietly, shy in a way reminiscent of when you asked him to say I love you on the porch all those weeks ago. He hates that you felt you even needed to ask. 

With no hesitation, he maneuvered himself into the small bed beside you. He kisses your forehead once, twice, three times, holding you as tightly as he could. Your body still gave the occasional tremble but they had lessened now, your breaths coming a little bit easier, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease. 

“Sorry for being a mess,” he whispers into your hair. 

“Don’t,” you whisper back, and he feels you shake your head from where it’s tucked into his chest. “It means you care.”

The words are there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say them, not yet or here. You deserve more than a frantic hospital room confession.

-------

Part Nine :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! We're nearing the end, but I think everyone is really going to like the next chapter. Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

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[musette22]

I wonder if Steve has a significant amount of imposter syndrome, especially when he came out of the ice. People had solidified this idea of him and expected him to excel and be that, hell even his teammates were just like oh I know all about you. (Expect maybe Thor, who I think was one of Steve’s closest friends in the beginning)

He can’t escape these expectations and if he goes against it, he’s berated for it. It’s made even worse with the serum, but at least with that he had the howling commandos to ground him and encouraged him. In the 21st Century there was no one to bounce of and the fact it would have been made worse by his survivors guilt.

Idk Steve is a character that has so many layers but gets over looked because he isnt allowed to fall into a vulnerable headspace. I kinda wished we saw more of that in his character, not in like a reflective sort of way but a kinda overwhelmed by everything portrayal. I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense.

Oh absolutely, yes! I think you're completely right. I also think Steve struggles hugely with the expectations people have of him, the dichotomy between the persona & legend of Cap versus the real Steve Rogers. He had to get used to a whole new body first, and then on top of that, he also had to learn to deal with all those expectations and the idea(l) people have of him which he doesn't even recognise himself in, half the time. He doesn't feel worthy of all the attention and hero worship, constantly thinking that if only people knew the real him, they'd be sorely disappointed. At the same time though, I think he feels like the whole celebrity aspect of being Cap is empty and meaningless anyway, most of the time (except for when he can use his fame to do something good, of course, which he tries to do as much as he can because otherwise, what's the point?), so in a way I think he doesn't even want to live up to people's expectations of him. He is also known for his stubbornness and righteousness, after all 😉

And yeah, in the 21st century, there isn't anyone left who knows the real him, who can grab his shoulders and shake them and tell him that it's the real Steve Rogers, that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight, who makes Cap great, that he is worth knowing and loving. That his ideas may be reckless and harebrained more often than not, but that he does what he does for the right reasons, because he is a good man first and foremost, even if others can only see a perfect soldier. He must've felt so enormously alienated and lost, those first few years 😔

While I love the idea that (most of) the Avengers would've ultimately come to understand and appreciate Steve for Steve too, the way things stood at the beginning of TWS, they definitely weren't there yet (thank god for Sam, who at least tried). Which is why I adore the kind of fics in which Bucky, after he comes back, is not only cared for and helped to get back to himself by Steve, but in which he also gets to care for and help Steve to get back to himself in return ❤️ Mutual healing, that's my jam 💫

And yes, Steve Rogers is actually a huuuugely layered and complex and interesting and underrated character, and I will die on that hill!!! The MCU unfortunately did not explore any of this nearly enough (in fact, they cut some of the scenes that would've been the most telling when it came to the state of mind he was in) and they massively oversimplified his character development for the sake of action/tony/heteronormativity/etc. I'll always wish we'd have gotten to see more of Steve's motivations and character in the movies, but I'll also always be grateful that fanfiction has given us what the MCU didn't dare, and a thousand times over too! ❤️

[musewrangler]

IT’S A CHEESEBURGER THING

For @fandomjumper247 who is craving fics while AO3 is off to war.

It's not very long, my dear, but I also love IronDad and SpiderSon so---

Set shortly after Endgame where Tony does NOT die. Obviously.

******

"Park your spandex wearing butt right there or so help me, Parker----!"

"Spandex butt," Morgan giggled, and Tony whirled on the five year old.

"Nope, hey. We don't repeat what Dad says when he's upset. You know the rules."

"He's upset all the time," Peter muttered and then quailed under the fierce glare from those brown eyes.

"Morgan!" Tony barked. "Get popsicles!"

"How many?" she asked, tilting her head in an exact imitation of her father. She knew how to negotiate, Peter thought.

"However many you want, Doodlebug. Go."

She trotted out happily as Tony advanced like a predator toward his prey and Peter sank reluctantly onto the sofa.

"What did I say? Hm? What did I say about pursuing this?"

The white scars on the right side of his face were like a lightning spread though the ear had been expertly repaired by the best plastic surgeon in the world. It frankly served to make him look cooler but Peter wasn't telling him that.

"Mr. Stark----" he began.

"Oh HELL no, you did not just 'Mr. Stark' me right now!" Tony snarled at him, poking a finger into his chest. Because he'd designed the suit, he knew exactly where to poke and it immediately retracted, leaving Peter wincing. Tony took this in and drew in a long inhale, like a growing tsunami.

"Friday! How many broken ribs?"

"Invasion of privacy," Peter tried and Tony raised both eyebrows in what Peter privately thought of as his 'Cap' look. It was the one he always gave Steve Rogers when he thought Cap was also pushing too hard.

"No privacy here. My house, my rules. Friday?"

"Seven, Boss."

"SEVEN," Tony repeated, but Peter was feeling it now and the adrenaline of his fight was wearing off. "I swear I am going to let Murdock hear about this," his mentor growled, as Dum-E rolled over with the medkit.

But he was gentle as he pushed Peter back against the cushions and got to work on the abrasions. Peter's spider enhanced healing would serve him well, but it still took time. Tony made him take super strong acetaminophen he'd worked on with Dr. Banner for super hero strength.

"Not much to do about the ribs," he said with real regret. "Which means you have to stay down, kid. Friday, let his Aunt May know, yeah?"

"On it, Boss."

Morgan returned with a very orange mouth and a blue popsicle in process.

"How many---?" Tony began and stopped. "Never mind. What I don't know I can't tell Mom."

"Seven," Morgan informed him helpfully, slurping on the blue one. "You can have some, Pete."

She came to lean over the back of the sofa and pat at his hair gently, already knowing that when he was here like this she had to touch carefully.

"That's okay, Morgs," he said, wincing a little as Tony swiped at the bruises on his face with an antibacterial wipe.

"Sorry," he said, but didn't sound it. It was the thing with Tony though, Peter thought drowsily as Ironman went hunting for the soft blanket, he was all bite even as he did everything possible to make sure the other person was safe and cared for.

Why they loved him after all. Peter and Pepper and Morgan. All of the Avengers.

Tony returned with the velvety soft grey blanket from Peter's room and tucked it around him. It was so warm and delicious.

"Mm, like a happy burrito," Peter slurred sleepily.

He could almost feel Tony's eyeroll.

"Cheeseburger," Morgan corrected. "They're better."

"And that's why your my favorite," Tony said immediately, removing the popsicle stick from her mouth. "All done. Crap, you're going to have such a sugar high."

He lifted his daughter into his arms and seated himself on the fat ottoman beside Peter's head.

"Can we get cheeseburgers?" Morgan asked.

Peter smiled at her.

"It's TWELVE---Nope. ONE FIFTEEN AM," Tony said with force. "And---" he paused.

"I could really put down some cheeseburgers, Mr. Stark," Peter said, the thought of them now making his stomach hurt even more.

There was a long silence.

"Cheeseburgers," Morgan whispered, touching her father's face gently.

Tony closed his eyes briefly and then ducked his head in defeat.

"Yeah okay, you two are awful. Friday, get us some cheeseburgers. Whatever's close and open." He glanced at Peter and pursed his lips in calculation. "Probably twenty."

Peter's mouth curled a little as Friday made the order. If Pepper had been here, no doubt he would be in the Stark's special medical wing of the penthouse they occupied when in the city. And well meaning as she was, Peter preferred Tony's way---the sofa, the blanket and the engineer's hand stroking Peter's curls as they waited for cheeseburgers and Morgan leaned on her father's shoulder, soothing herself by running her finger along one of the scars on his neck from the glove.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark," Peter murmured.

"Yeah, kid," Tony answered. "Still gonna pound Murdock for letting you get involved."

"I woulda anyway," Peter told him. "What we do."

Tony's hand stopped for a moment but then started to run through Peter's hair again.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly as Dum-E trundled in with a large Burger King bag, "it is."

[softspeirs]

hiya katie! i hope you're having a lovely evening. could i please request "27. — boxes" for....ellie and bucky, please? (or anyone you are feeling!) <3 — @shoshiwrites

A/N: Hiya Sho! I had another person ask for more of Bucky and Ellie as they settle into their relationship, so combining these two prompts if that's ok! This one is another lil interlude. Pals, I'll take more prompts from this list if you've got 'em!

When the box first arrived on Ellie's doorstep courtesy of the mailman, she set it on the kitchen table and refused to look at it for the rest of the day.

She'd stop by the cluttered table and pretend it wasn't there, worrying her thumbnail with her teeth.

"D'ya think it's a bomb?" Her brother whispers in her ear, and she jumps.

"You startled me!" She smacks at his arm, and he laughs as he ducks out of the way.

"What are we looking at? Mail?"

"It's not just mail," she says, exasperated. "It's-- it's from John's--"

Her brother picks it up, an absolutely irritating smile growing on his face. "His mother!" He squawks, shoving it at her like she hadn't already realized where it had come from, seeing the Wisconsin postmark. "Do you think he knows she sent something?"

"I suspect not, or if he did, he was too embarrassed to say anything."

Her brother laughs again, and Ellie flushes. "Don't you dare say anything when he comes for dinner."

"Aren't you going to open it?"

Ellie feels so foolish - she can't explain why she's so nervous. It's just that it's Bucky's mother, and it feels serious in a way that she wasn't prepared for.

(There's also a niggling voice in the back of her mind reminding her that John said he only got one or two letters from his mother while he was in the Stalag, and even though she doesn't know the reasoning behind it, it still makes protectiveness surge up inside her - she wishes Mrs. Egan would have sent a package to her son, instead)

It's hours later when Bucky - and Buck, she's delighted to see - arrive. Bucky has a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm, and he's laughing as he holds open the front gate for his friend.

She loves seeing him laugh.

She pulls open the door before they can knock. Marvels at how they mirror each other - both pulling off their caps, smoothing their hair.

"Majors," she drawls.

"Ma'am," Buck greets her with an amused half-smile. "Hope you don't mind I'm crashing your dinner."

"Of course not." Ellie steps closer to pull him into a one-armed hug. His arm tightens around her shoulder. "Go on in, Dad and Henry are in the kitchen."

Inside, introductions are made. Henry tries not to look too in awe of the Majors, but at fifteen, it's hard for him to hide it.

Ellie heads to the kitchen to finish up the last of the veggie pie she's been working on - the farmer down the way miraculously still had some butter on hand, and she's been babying a pie crust all afternoon.

She smiles to herself when Bucky's familiar footfalls sound behind her. His arms slide around her waist, and she grins, even as her cheeks warm.

"Behave yourself."

He hums. "Always."

She turns around to get a good look at him. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles, and she hopes to see that look on his face for the rest of both their lives.

"Hello." She whispers.

He closes the distance between them. The kiss is light and chaste but still sets her heart racing. "Hi." He replies when they break apart. "You're sure you've got enough for one more person?" His expression turns concerned. "I don't want to put you out if you were planning on only feeding four."

"I have enough. You both need to eat, anyway."

He kisses her temple. "Too good to me." He mutters. He busies himself setting the table, and she hears the moment he stops short. Her eyes widen when she remembers.

"Oh!" She turns around quickly to find him frowning, the box already in his hand.

"Uh-- this is from..."

"Your mother. I got it today."

He looks at her, confused. "I... I have no idea what this is. How did she--"

Ellie fidgets. "I may have snooped the last time you left me alone in your room for a minute. I wanted your home address so I could write to her."

Bucky doesn't look angry or upset, he just looks so bewildered, Ellie could laugh. "You wrote to my..."

"Everything alright?" God bless Gale Cleven, Ellie thinks.

"Fine!" She says breezily, shoving a serving bowl and cutlery in his hands. "Set these out for me?"

He does as he's asked, but he keeps an eye on his friend. Ellie's heart clenches. She wonders how often he had to do this, had to study Bucky's expression to try to figure out if something was wrong.

"My mother sent El a package." Bucky says.

"Wedding dress?"

John gapes at his friend. Gale, on the other hand, is sporting a shit-eating grin not unlike the one Henry had earlier. "I-- we're-- why would you--"

"Relax, Egan. Just assumed."

"You think I wouldn't have told you--"

"It was a joke." Buck looks at Ellie for help. "That was a joke, Ellie."

"I know." She flaps her hands at her side uselessly. "I haven't opened it yet. I was... I was nervous! I know it's silly."

"Oh, god, Ma..." Bucky mutters, almost to himself. It makes a hysterical laugh bubble up out of Ellie. "You'd better go on then, I won't be able to eat unless I know she didn't send you my most embarrassing childhood photos."

"Neither will I." Gale deadpans.

Bucky hands Ellie the box across the dining room table, and she sets it down with nervous hands, reaching for her kitchen scissors to cut the ties.

Inside are a few bars of chocolate, which she knows Henry will swipe given half the chance, a small framed photo of Bucky in uniform, and a few sheafs of paper tucked into a brand-new leather bound diary.

She unfolds the letter first, muttering to herself about it being too much.

Bucky watches as her eyes well up as she reads, and feels himself practically vibrating as he tries to imagine what Mrs. Frances Egan has said to this woman he's pretty confident is going to be his wife one day. He's nervous and happy all wrapped up in one - he never told Ellie that he had written to his mother when he got back to Thorpe Abbotts to firstly reassure her that he was in one piece, but also to tell her that he thought he had found the woman of his dreams.

Knowing that Ellie had written to her without his knowledge... far from being upset that she kept it from him, he's touched because knowing Ellie, knowing what her own letters to him had been like, he knows she was writing to introduce herself, to tell someone important to him that she was taking care of him. He just knows it, without even having read the words.

"El?" Gale asks, and god if Bucky doesn't love seeing his best friend treat his girl like a sister. The quiet affection they have for each other already is like a balm for his soul after the last year and a half of a cold, gray, unfeeling existence.

"I'm okay," she insists, "It's-- oh, she's so nice." Ellie says, passing the letter off to John. "There's a page addressed to you; I didn't read it."

John still feels as if he's been whacked upside the head. This entire thing is so unexpected.

His mother tells Ellie (Eleanor, she had written) that she was so happy to hear from her, that she hopes Ellie has seen for herself that John was in one piece, and she talks at length about John's sisters. It makes him smile, to see how easily she's bringing Ellie into their lives.

The part, he's pretty sure, that had made Ellie cry was at the end. My son is so lucky to have someone like you to take care of him, though he'll deny he needs help at all. He's stubborn, but it sounds like you are as well. That's good - keep him in line for me. I've enclosed a journal and some stationary. Please keep writing if you'd like. The girls and I will be seeing you in person soon, I'm sure. I hope, anyway.

The page addressed to him is short and sweet. His mother writes in a vaguely threatening tone that he better make an honest woman out of Eleanor Peters soon. His heart rate kicks up when she asks if there's another, smaller box that she should send over soon.

Buck makes himself scarce after the table is set, with a knowing look at Bucky that makes him roll his eyes.

He walks over to Ellie, who is struggling to meet his eyes. He finds it so so endearing. "El." His fingers find her chin, tipping it up until she meets his eyes. "You wrote to my mother."

"'Course I did." She says, embarrassed. "Had to let her know her son was alive and well. You probably sent her half a page. 'Back from Stalag. In the hospital. Don't worry'", she mimics his deeper voice.

That pretty much is what Bucky sent home, but he doesn't admit it.

"Thank you. I hope this isn't-- I hope this didn't scare you off."

"It's too much. I can't accept this--" she says, but he's already shaking his head, hand sliding along her cheek until it threads through her hair, hand massaging her scalp in a way that is always so comforting when she does it to him.

"It's a gift. She wants you to have it, and honestly I'll be offended if you don't put that picture on your bedside table." He bats his lashes rapidly.

"Oh, shut up." She huffs, laughing. "Dinner is going to get cold."

He kisses her forehead, but lets her go, and they call her Dad, Henry, and Gale back into the dining room to sit down. Bucky regales her brother with stories while Buck chimes in once in a while to correct the record, much to his friend's chagrin, and over the rims of his glasses, her father grins at him.

This is the fullest their little house has been in a long time. Her chest tightens at the thought of leaving it behind, even if it is to go home with Bucky.

She tries to leave her worries for another day. In the meantime, she's already started to think of what she can send Mrs. Egan and her daughters in return.

Under the table, Bucky's hand finds hers, and he squeezes, like he can tell her brain is going a thousand miles an hour.

She smiles. She'll start packing a box in the morning.

[susvale]

M.I.A. Homelander X Reader X Steve Roger

Title: Missing In action

Pairings: Homelander X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader, Dark Steve x Reader, Dark Homelander x reader [Crossover]

Summary: You were an avenger, one of the more magic ones. People called your name in excitement and felt safe being around you, then thanos happened… when you weren’t snapped and after a police call you were somewhere else. Now all you know is there is a man with a cap calling himself Homelander calling himself “Americas Hero” and the world is different… is it isn’t so bad though.

I made this is 2022, It’s been sitting in my drafts for that long… so yeah!

[Part One] -> [Part Two]

It was overwhelming at times. Cameras in your face after a mission were you were left battered and bruised, nevertheless you smiled, you gave a proud smile to the reporters reporting. They had risked things coming here did it make your job harder, yes, the helicopters flying around while you try and fly. It added pressure to keep people in the air safe. At least you weren’t Steve, they made him do dumb shit, like that time he was in a Detention video spouting nonesense. You job was only to keep people safe. People may offer you movie rolls but you always decline, you weren’t an actor your a hero. Even if declining meant buying an okay-ish apartment with a broken Landry machine. You weren’t a millionaire, just a lady with the power to say “bang” and a mans head would explode if you wanted to. Even then, you had the option to live in Tony’s tower. Maybe then some random wouldn’t show up ever week looking to kill you. A sigh left your lips as you looked down at the TV, Thanos killed half the population and vanished. That is what’s in the News again. Men lost daughters, mothers lost sons but everybody lost someone. Even so it still stung he wouldn’t pick up your calls, you wanted to shout at him ‘your not dead yet and neither am I! stop ignoring me before one of those things change!’ Missions still came in, unsteady but they did come in.

“Maybe I should get a real job, part time.” You mumbled to yourself while you stared at the TV. Everyone you ever knew had distanced themselves or been snapped, maybe getting out would be good… people have been starting to expect that this is life, ‘maybe thanos was right my gym has been less crowded lately!’ Kinda people, jokes that might not be jokes anymore.

You still think about it, maybe he was right. It was horrible, you know. So many people lost and yet you didn’t lose anyone significant, Bucky of course but you were only just starting to get to know him… Steve maybe but you could still see him, feel him breathe, he didn’t get snapped. He was just distance, like he wished he did get snapped…

Witch hurt…

You didn’t have a family, friends outside of the avengers, hell you never had a boyfriend before Steve. How could you? Caged and trained like a dog, feed needles and pills like food. Given faces and names to quietly kill, you never had your own name till the avengers… Y/N… it was a nice name though. you named yourself off the first person you ever killed, you didn’t know if they would ever have agreed but they were dead… so it didn’t matter.

Steve and therapy, You remembered. Keep breathing don’t think about it. Or maybe it was think about it regret is good? Your therapist had been snapped so it’s been a while. The police called you once in and while about cases. Maybe answering back wouldn’t suck? You were lonely and bored, nothing to do then unsteady mission that lacked any sort of life.

Grabbing your phone you called a man. He was your contact to the police, you could never remember titles or anything like that but he was pretty high up.

“Thank god you called, you use to be so active I was starting to worry you got snapped too.” He joked, people cope with humor, you know that. Still, it irritated you that you and your friends put your life on the line and failed only to be joked about by people who didn’t know anything. Nevertheless, you gritted your teeth and held your tongue. “More and more people are disappearing. We think it may be an aftershock effect of some kind.”

“I doubt it.” You mumbled to yourself, he didn’t hear you and went on about the investigation. A group of people who agreed with Thanos’s ideals has been here and there, left and right. They think a select group talking it too far and hurting or making more people disappear. That sounded more likely, he told you about peoples corpses. Looked like they had been shot with high power lasers, or they’re heads have been smashed in. They had a certain person in custody, maybe if you worked with them you could find a way to undo the snap? That’s what the officer proposed anyway. You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, you would be their for the interview is what you told them.

You should call Steve. This looked like such an important case, he had to know people were making more people disappear… it could lead to something. He would want to know.

So you did call him. He didn’t answer, instead you were greeted by the all so familiar call after the beep speech. It was nicer then actually speaking to him nowadays, though. “Heya, it’s Steve. Leave a uh… voicemail..? After the beep? Did I do that right?” You’d hear him call to someone in the background, “yeah, other then forgetting what a voicemail was called.” You heard your own distant voice greet you, “Steve you have to-“ you were the last thing you hear as the beep signalled the end of the recorded ‘can’t get to you’ message.

A sigh left you when you realized you’d have to speak now, “Hey Steve, the police called me and they have a case of more disappearing people. A group of Thanos supporters popped up making even more people disappear.” You paused, “I think it’s something you’ll be interested in, might lead to something, heh… listen, I miss you, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. I… can’t…” your voice trailed off, you breathed in deciding not to do this over a call. “Anyway, call me when you get this. Can’t make it too long.”

That’s right. You couldn’t keep the police waiting… So you grabbed your bag and left. Off to the police station.“Hey, we put the suspect in the interrogation room.” The man spoke, he opened the door to a standard interrogation room. Blue walls, four barely cushioned chairs and a table in the middle closet to a wall. The suspect looked like a regular man. You frowned.

This all felt too… cultish? It made you uncomfortable, the look in his eye. He looked at you like you were a god among men.

[imahinatjon]

OK HI I'm BACk what ABOUT JOUNO AND TECCHOU WITH AN S/O WHO HAS ADHD LIKE ZONING OUT AND RANDOM STUFF like spontaneous noises, not sitting still, ZONING OUT, low attention span, etc. I MEANT TO WRITE THIS IN ALL CAps BUT I DIDNT. HAVE AGOOD DAY.

Before we start this, I do not have ADHD or at least we don't think I have.

Therefore I cannot say I fully understand ADHD, but I will try. (Like, I understand, but not to the fullest extent)

Also did these in the form of headcannons if that's good? Bulletpointed.

Jouno

• So, Jouno... appreciates you.

• He doesn't always understand, but even he gets that enthusiasm is needed in life sometimes - even if it's not technically enthusiasm.

• He won't notice if you start zoning out. He can't see you.

• But he does realise when you stopped making noise.

• Your voice is distracting and almost constant. You say almost anything and everything with little to no filter.

• But he likes your voice a hell of a lot more than the voices of... certain people.

• Jouno can't keep up.

• That's just it. He can't keep up.

• He can learn to understand what your saying, where you're coming from, your personality and behaviours, but that doesn't mean he has the energy to keep up.

• Still, your entertaining to him, he likes you, a lot. So he keeps his ear out for you.

• You rarely stay in one place for too long, buttt your also clumsy. Make a lot of simple, not super dangerous but occasionally concerning mistakes.

• Jouno, with ALL his love for you, thinks you need to be wrapped up in bubble wrap.

• It's for your own safety!

• ...he may or may not try it.

• But, in all seriousness. He does love every bit of you he has come to know. And coming to the rescue every now and then makes him feel like you really need him. (Not that he has issues with this, just saying that I think he'd like it if his s/o relied on him)

• He just wishes there weren't so many unfinished passion projects lying around.

• But he'll get over it because he loves you ♡

Tecchou

• Tecchou probably understands somewhat.

• You two have an almost perfect relationship.

• When he's not working Tecchou is practically attached to your hip.

• Which means you fall victim to his "cooking" often.

• And your always willing to try whatever he comes up with. Mostly that's because you haven't been paying much attention to what he's been putting in, your only indication that something is up is the fact that everything is the same colour.

• But you trust he won't poison you, so you take a spoonfull.

• You tell him it was nice, when really it wasn't, and remind yourself not to accept food from him again.

• You soon forget about it when the next meal comes around.

• "Sometimes I forget that your cooking is a biohazard..."

"...what?"

• Sometimes the two of you sit together doing nothing.

• It's nice. You were just sat on the chair, comfortable, away somewhere within your own head.

• He spotted you, and thought that you looked cute being so deep in thought that you had no real awareness of your surroundings.

• So, with the 'protection' excuse tucked away up his sleeve, he sat beside you and waited.

• Only to then find himself lost in thought with you.

• He can't help it! Being in such a calm, relaxing atmosphere with you - the ultimate comfort to him, he can't help but loose himself in the moment with you.

• What brings him back is when you start moving. A slight shake of the leg. Constant tap tap tapping, your knee bouncing up and down.

• You clearly got bored of wherever you were a bit ago, and had decided to stay with him, even though he could see you wanted to go and do something else.

• That's adorable - You trying so hard.

• Makes him want to try harder too.

• Oh! Perhaps you could cook with him!

• It will end in disaster. That's just a given. Doesn't matter if your a good cook or a bad cook there will be conflict.

• Nothing serious, and it causes no real issue, just a lot of mess that some poor soul is going to have to clean up later.

• He's so insistent on his way of "cooking" that he won't listen to you.

• And your so stubborn in 'trying something new' (aka following an actual recepie) that you both end up childishly fighting over the bowl.

• It's not serious, and neither of you are actually shouting, but a few bowls and ingredients fall over, and you do run around a lot.

• At least Jouno knows not to go in there - lest he face whatever mess the two of you plan on proudly presenting to him. He doesn't want it.

• So... your relationship isn't perfect, but it's almost there.

• You try and understand eachother, and you stick together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is this okay? 🤔

I did research into ADHD before writing this - and tried to recall what one of my relatives behaves like - as he has adhd.

But like I said, I don't have it.

Also Think I finally figured out how to spell these twos names.

:D

[hell-drabbles]

Mammon 1

Summary: When you said you’d claim Mammon as yours if he’s willing to be your personal cow, you were honestly joking. You didn’t think he’d take your words to heart.

(Lactation people. I just think he’d look neat with puffier nipples, engorged pecs complete with leaking milk.)

Perhaps it was a bit too harsh of a joke, telling Mammon he can be yours if he’s willing to be your cow. A part of your cringed the moment the words left your mouth, but to be fair to yourself, you got into the habit of making ridiculous requirements to drive as many devils as you can away.

It… mostly worked. Some are more stubborn than others, clearly eager to get to know or to be touched by Solomon’s descendant, but you managed to protect your personal space.

Then, there’s the situation with Mammon.

You were willing to take the words back but that response he gave was something you weren’t expecting.

“Is that all there is?” He said that with an interested smile on his face. “I can do it. I can be your cow, though it will take some time.”

And, if you’re being honest, that got you curious. He clearly had an idea in mind that wasn’t just a quick change in wardrobe. If he turns himself into an actual cow, you will laugh your ass off before telling him to turn back.

So, you let the words be and waited.

He knocked and came into your room a few days later, on a rare day of peace and quiet. You were in a significantly better mood than the day you met him, so you were willing to tolerate what it is he wanted, within reason of course.

Mammon, in the time you’ve known him, never wore a shirt. It was more a thick choker with a piece of cloth slotted between his pecs. And said poor little cloth was entirely swallowed by the newly engorged pecs almost drooping down towards you.

Mammon stood over your bed, arms crossed under his straining chest as he looked down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Well?” He flicked the tiny little white horns resting in front of his golden ones, “How do you like it? Will you give this cow of yours a reward for his good behavior?”

You see them, the light stretch marks and veins trailing from his puffy nipples. Once rather small and cute, the areola had darkened in color, pulled taut around the cap of his pecs. Mammon laughed lowly at your curious blinking and crawled closer, but stopped just above your head.

“Huh,” you sighed out, brain finally registering the fact he wanted to become yours so badly he modified his body like this, “that’s some impressive dedication you got there, Mammon.”

You reached up and pressed your fingers into the side of his breast, feeling the stiffness in the generally pliant flesh. He felt swollen, full. And clearly Mammon could feel it as well judging by the way he flinched and locked into place for just a moment.

You pressed harder watched as milk dribbled then flowed down his nipples, pattering on your bed sheets. You gave an impressed whistle.

“Is this…” Mammon hissed in a breath, shuddering at the release, redness high on his cheeks, “is this enough, to become yours?”

“You really did become a cow,” you teased, “even though it was just a joke. Oh well, it is my fault, so I may as well milk you dry so you don’t have to suffer with these full breasts.”

Silly Mammon. What a silly cow he is.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Scaredy-Shroom

Debut: Plants vs. Zombies

Here is Scaredy-Shroom! A very humble fellow, who I love very much. Scaredy-Shroom is scared, as you likely know. He is frightened, uncomfortable in the given situation. And as someone easily scared, I can relate to this! Especially when I was younger and even more easily scared! When I first heard about Plants vs. Zombies, I thought "Zombies? I don't want to see that!" and assumed it had to be a Scary Game. And now kids are growing up as Scary Freddy The Scare Bear fans. I would not have done well as an iPad Kid. BUT ANYWAY!

Scaredy-Shroom may be scared. But he is courageous! Arguably. I don't think he would be fighting zombies if he was not planted by the player. But he's here, and he does a good job, even if he is scared! I am proud of him. He has a low sun cost, respectable damage, and infinite range! He DOES cower under his cap if zombies are too close, but it is a small setback, and you owe it to him to keep him feeling safe, after all he's done for you!

While he does a good job at night, there is really no point to using Scaredy-Shroom during the day. He'll be asleep, so you'll need to use Coffee Bean to wake him up, and at that point you've spent as much as you would have on a Peashooter! And Peashooter does not cower and stop shooting at any point! I think this is okay, though. Scaredy-Schroom doesn't need to be a miracle worker. He is very stressed and needs his sleep. Look, his cap is even shaped like a pointed sleeping cap, a little! He is so cute.

Have you heard the news? It's part of why I'm making this post! Scaredy-Shroom was NOT in PvZ2 for a very long time, but just recently, after about 10 years, was added back! At first, I was hesitant about the slight redesign, specifically the cap. This is no longer a pointed hat, but instead has a jagged, seemingly broken bottom! I really do wonder if this was intentional, or a misinterpretation of the original design. Oh well! I have decided I like it, and looking kind of disheveled fits his character! He doesn't have arms to do it with, but it makes me think of him rubbing or picking at his cap when nervous, like I fiddle with my hair. He's just like me!

So? Was Scaredy-Shroom's big return worth the wait?

No, it was not! Scaredy-Shroom is, simply, just Not That Good. In the first game's night levels, he is good! He has his use and the game is built around that! But in 2, an unbalanced game with even more difficult zombies, as well as a steady stream of new and extremely powerful plants being added, he just does not have what it takes. They DID give him extra defense when hiding, but it's really not nearly enough. Indeed, Scaredy-Shroom in PvZ2 is not very good.

And I wouldn't have it any other way!

Like I've been saying, Scaredy-Shroom is, in the first game, useful in some levels, and nearly useless in others. He isn't SUPPOSED to be overpowered, or even strong! If he was, that wouldn't be Scaredy-Shroom! I can understand people being disappointed with his weakness in 2, but as someone who no longer plays it, I'm just happy to see him finally in a game again, and with a neat new design. Ideally, he would have been in the base game with campaign levels designed for his strengths, but it is too late for that.

In a way, it's good that he probably won't get used much. It gives him time to relax. I'll just let Scaredy-Shroom speak for himself here:

"How did I get talked into this? I wish I was at home."