#I just think this would be a fic I’d read the hell out of

[slytherheign]

AFTERGLOW | charles leclerc

PART 3/3 OF LOVER: THE TRILOGY.

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SUMMARY: the dark nights may have already passed but the biggest storm is just beginning. the daylight is becoming harder to be seen, and now you see yourself questioning if love will be enough to conquer all—even the afterglow.

WARNINGS: angst, hate, doubts, cursing/swearing, and arguments. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S FINALLY HERE! this is way overdue and i apologize. i owe you guys a lot of fics for being absent for way too long. this is dedicated to ALL of you! thank you guys so much for the never-ending support.

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO TO TRILOGY MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

At first, it was just a few comments here and there, snide remarks about your differences—how Charles was way too good for you or how you didn't fit into society's expectations. You brushed them off, laughed them away, thinking that their words couldn't penetrate the walls you had built around the two of you.

But little did you know how wrong you were.

The online hate began to escalate, turning into a relentless storm that seemed to follow you wherever you went. Your private moments were invaded, dissected, and judged by people who had no right to pass such harsh judgment. Their words became a constant presence, infecting your mind, and sowing seeds of doubt and insecurity.

“So, she basically has nothing… and then she decides to date Charles, who obviously, has everything. I don’t know about y’all… but I feel like she’s just dating him because she knows he can provide for her.”

“She’s giving me golddigger vibes.”

“No cause fr what the hell did she do to get Charles to fall for her.”

Your eyes were glued to your phone while Charles was making dinner. No matter what application you seemed to open, you were all over social media. After Charles decided to launch your relationship to the public, both your names became trending ever since. 

“Chérie, do you know where the pasta is?” he asked. He was opening the cabinets in the kitchen quite loudly but all the noises were drowned out as you scrolled further down the comments.

“Imagine this… she leaves everything, including her family and friends, just to focus on herself. What makes us think she wouldn’t do the same to Charles?”

“Selfish. That’s one word I would describe her.”

Your hands began to shake and you felt the tears pooling in your eyes. 

“Nevermind. Chérie, I found it!” he cheered.

This time, you heard his voice. Yet again noticing how accomplishing little things seemed to cheer him up. God, he was such a light. His soul was so pure and innocent.

“Charles needs to leave her while it’s still early omg.”

“Give her a few months and we’ll see just how much she’d damage him.”

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed that everyone you come across with ends up in ruins. It was always dreams before relationships for you, life before love, and self before others.

Maybe they were right. You were selfish.

“Either she leaves him or Charles leaves her first. I hope it’s the second one.”

“He needs to escape. She’ll hurt him more the longer he’s with her.”

The more you read their words, the more they were becoming true in your head.

“Charles does not deserve someone like her. I said what I said.”

You glanced at him, his back facing you as he cooked dinner. He was humming a song, a soft song he would always play on his piano for you. It was impossible to stop the tears that started falling. 

You were scared. 

Scared that what they said was true and that the longer you were in his life, the more you’d damage him.

You were scared for him.

And scared of you.

“Pls even her best friend, Charlotte, is better than her.”

“If I was him, I’d leave right this instant.”

You didn’t want to damage him. You didn’t want to taint someone so pure.

What you wanted to do was protect him. Protect him from harm, protect him from any damages, protect him from getting hurt…

“We need to protect Charles from her.”

But what if they were right? 

They were his fans for a reason. They care for him.

Surely, they know what’s best for him…

“When is girlie going to realize that she’s the problem.”

They were right.

You were the problem. 

You were the harm, the person who does the damage, the person who would hurt him.

“I hope they break up. It’s what’s best for Charles.”

Charles took the phone in your hand and threw it on the wall. You stared at him in shock. How long was he behind you? You didn’t even hear his footsteps. Did he see the comments you were reading?

“What the hell are you reading, mon amour?” he asked angrily. But when he noticed you crying, he softened his voice. “I was calling your name, asking you to taste the sauce. You weren’t answering so I decided to come here.”

You stared at your broken phone on the floor. He followed your line of sight.

“I can replace it. Don’t worry about it.”

He put his hand on your cheek, moving your face so you were facing him. 

“I-I don’t know what the other comments said, I only read about the last few ones,” he wiped your tears. “And I can assure you, I won’t break up with you. I’ll never do that.”

“Maybe you should,” you replied.

“Mon amour, I understand what you’re feeling right now. You’re not used to online hate and strangers on the internet criticizing you, but I am. And the best thing we can do is ignore them. They have no idea what happens behind closed doors and cameras. They know nothing.”

“Charles, they’re your fans. They were there for you even before I came into your life.”

“That doesn’t mean they know everything about me.”

“I don’t know, Charles…” you turned your face away from him, his hands dropping from your face in the process. You slightly distanced yourself from him.

Their words were poison and they went straight to your head. It was painful to admit, but you started questioning the strength of your relationship. How could you build a future amidst the chaos and resentment? You tried not to pay them attention, to convince yourself that love could conquer all, but the weight of the hate grew heavier with each passing day.

“Do I really mean that little to you?” Charles asked suddenly.

You blew things out of proportion, and now he was blue.

You looked back at him but you kept your distance.

“Why would you think that?” 

“Because you’re just throwing everything away like the last two years didn’t exist.” 

“Charles, no–that’s not—” you walked closer to him but he was the one who distanced himself this time.

“I’ve fought for this relationship, for you—time and time again. And you can’t do the same?”

You were speechless.

You put him in jail for something he didn't do.

“I told you countless times, I can protect you—I will protect you. Don’t you trust me enough?” he continued.

You pinned his hands behind his back.

“Charles, it’s not about you protecting me… because I know you will. It’s about—”

“It’s about what?” he stared at you, his eyes glistening with tears he was trying hard to keep from falling.

Thought you had reason to attack, but no.

You looked at him with tears, lips quivering as you prepared to say the words.

“It’s about what, Y/N?” Charles held your face with his hands, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “It’s about what?” his voice was shaking. “Tell me, chérie… please?”

Fighting with a true love was like boxing with no gloves. 

“It’s about me protecting you, Charles,” you whimpered. “Maybe the things that they’re saying are true—maybe you need to run away from me before I leave you. Maybe I-I’m not truly what you need…”

You covered his hands with yours. “Charles… maybe we should just—”

Chemistry 'til it blew up, 'til there's no you and him anymore.

“No,” he answered.

“Charles, I think—”

“I know what you’re thinking. And no—that’s my final answer.”

He let go of you and started to pace the room.

“Charles—”

“We’ve made it this far… and you’re just going to give up now?” he stared at you, looking at your eyes for some sort of indication that everything was just a joke. All of his defenses broke and he didn’t even care if his tears started to fall.

Why'd you have to break what you loved so much?

“I hurt everyone I get close to. Charles, I’m just trying to protect you. Please–” 

“I don’t need your fucking protection! You! I need you!” he screamed in frustration.

And then he did something you didn’t expect.

He kneeled in front of you, holding your hands as he begged you not to leave him.

“Mon amour, just fight for us. Please, that’s only what I ask.”

“Oh, Charles… I really don’t deserve you.”

“Please, just stay with me… I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t leave me, mon amour, just s-stay, please.”

“Charles, p-please don’t cry, I-I can’t see you cry—stand up, please,” you cried.

It was on his face, the clear image of pain, and you were the one to blame. At that moment, you thought of every possible way this argument would end. You were already hurting him right now, what more would you do if you stayed? How much pain would you cause?

Charles stood up and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” he paused, turning your face so that your eyes were looking at his. “When they say all that shit about you? When they drag your name through the mud? When they feast over you on the internet? Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” 

You didn’t know what to say.

“It hurts me too,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “But I can’t control what they say. If I could, I would’ve done it way too long ago.”

“Charles…”

“This is the way the world works, Y/N. You have to realize that people say what they want to say and people do what they want to do. Everything is done with a choice.” 

He finally opened his eyes, pulling away from you and wiping his tears. He stayed standing in front of you, but he now maintained a distance.

“Y/N…”

You couldn’t deny the pang of pain you felt when he called you by your name instead of the pet names he loved to call you.

“I can’t fight for a relationship when the other one’s already giving up,” he said. 

“You deserve someone way better than me,” you cried. “Look what I’m doing, I’m already hurting you right now. I would just hurt you even more in the future.”

Instead of him getting sad, his face showed a different emotion. It was blank, it was as if the emotions that blew up moments ago exhausted him.

“If you decide to stay or not, just know that I love you.”

ONE WEEK LATER.

You fucking hated yourself.

What the fuck did you just do?

Why didn’t you stay that night and why did you have to break what you loved so much?

You tried living without his presence for a week and it was horrible. You convinced yourself that you would eventually get used to a life without the warmth of his body next to yours or the sweet messages he would send every day. It was getting hard to reassure yourself that this was the way it was meant to be—you, away from him—when the only name your heart was calling was his.

You were miserable. You were breathing but you felt like you were already dead because your life had been taken away from you.

And you only have yourself to blame.

The truth was, you were weak. Each time you experience a block in the road, you immediately turn away. And you were ashamed of yourself for that. You were scared of losing Charles so you pushed him away. You left him before he could realize he needed to leave you.

You were regretting every single thing you did.

You regretted how you lived like an island, how you punished him with silence, how you went off like sirens, but above all, you regretted how you walked away.

Now you found yourself in front of his home, shaking as you slowly raised your hand to knock on the door. You hoped he was inside.

You knocked on the door hoping it was not too late. The door opened slowly after a few minutes, and after a week of no interaction, you finally saw him.

He was in the same state as you, maybe even worse. It was evident on his face that he spent most of his time crying. His eyes which were full of life before became lifeless, and he gave you the most lethargic look.

You wanted to hurt yourself because you knew you did that to him.

“Can I come inside, please?” you pleaded.

He stepped aside from the door and walked straight to the couch, not even sparing you a single glance. You followed him, sitting beside him as silence consumed the two of you.

“Hey,” you couldn’t help but cry as you looked at him. He had his head in his hands and you knew he was stopping himself from crying. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You don’t have to talk, I just want you to listen.”

When he didn’t move, you took that as a sign to continue. Honestly, you didn’t know where to start but you just let your heart guide you on what words you needed him to hear. 

“It’s all me, Charles. I’m sorry,” you stated. “It’s all me, in my head—I burned us down. I know I said a lot of stupid things but it’s not what I meant. And I—” you wiped a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.” 

He stayed still, hands still covering his face. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew you were in no position to tell him what to do when you were the reason he was this way. And so, you just continued to speak, hoping that deep inside his heart, he would find it in himself to forgive you.

“At that moment, I felt like the walls were closing in on me and the world was spinning out of control. I let my emotions take over and lashed out in ways that were unreasonable and unfair. I see now that I projected my own fears onto you, and I regret it. I regret everything I said that day. I let my assumptions take control and I assumed the worst without giving you the benefit of the doubt. I realize now that I sabotaged something beautiful, something we had worked so hard to build together.

“I didn’t want to do this to you. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for my overreaction. I'm aware of the impact it had on you, and I understand that you are hurt and feeling distant. But please, Charles, give me a chance to make it right. Give me a chance to show you that I’m capable of growth and that I’m learning from my mistakes.

“I can't promise that I won't make mistakes in the future, but I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to communicate openly and honestly and I will seek to understand your perspective before jumping to conclusions.

“I don’t want to lose you, Charles. I know trust takes time to rebuild, and I’m willing to put in the effort. You’re right, you’re always right— our love is worth fighting for. Please forgive me for being too weak, for walking away instead of staying. I misplaced my hurt and anger and I hurt you. I love you, Charles, please, at least look at me?” you pleaded.

And he did. He finally looked up. His eyes were red from crying as he held your hands in his. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear from you. For you to say that you’re willing to fight for us. I needed you to realize that for us to work, we have to meet each other halfway.”

“I know, and again, I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“Thank you,” he cried, cupping your cheek with his hand.

“For what?” you asked him.

“For coming back.”

You smiled at each other, leaning in for a kiss when you both got distracted by the light that suddenly shined through his large window.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the sky, you both stood side by side at the window. The afterglow of the sun painted the room in warm tones, filling the space with a sense of something you haven’t felt for a long time… peace.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his. You watched in awe as the last rays of sunlight danced across the clouds, creating breathtaking shades of colors. For a moment, you swore the sky was pink.

"It's like nature's painting," you whispered, voice filled with wonder.

Charles nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the ever-changing canvas before the two of you. "Yeah, it's beautiful," he replied softly.

The two of you simply stood there, lost in the beauty of the moment. Time seemed to stand still as you basked in the quiet serenity of the evening. As the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle overhead, you both reluctantly tore your gazes away from the window. But the memory of the afterglow of the sun lingered in your hearts, a reminder of the beauty that surrounded you each day.

For the longest time, you let hate consume you. It was like this dark cloud hanging over your head. You were so focused on what they all had to say that you forgot to appreciate what was right in front of you.

But then, something shifted. Maybe it was a moment of clarity or a whisper of wisdom from somewhere deep within. Or maybe it was him, Charles, that made you realize that conforming to hate wasn't getting you anywhere. It wasn’t making you happy, it wasn't bringing you peace. All it was doing was tearing you apart, piece by piece.

And in that moment of realization, everything changed. You finally made a choice—a choice to let go of the hate and embrace love instead. You knew it wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn’t something that happens overnight, but you were determined to commit.

You were beginning to see the beauty in the world around you. The fact that it could be the laughter of real friends, the warmth of the sun on your skin, or the gentle touch of a loved one's hand—you realized that true love was everywhere, if only you were willing to open your eyes and see it.

So now, you were choosing love by choosing him. You chose to appreciate the little moments of joy, the simple pleasures of life. You chose to let go of anger and resentment, and instead, filled your heart with kindness and compassion.

You would soon forgive your family.

Because in the end, love is all that really mattered. It was what connected us, what bound us together as human beings. And when we embrace it, when we let it guide us, we would find out that life is so much sweeter, and so much more meaningful.

So here's to love—in all its forms, in all its beauty.

And here’s to Charles, your lover.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx @c-losur3

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld96 @princessria127

[teabiscs]

Hear me out hear me out hear me out hear me out.

Manga!Hiro/Anime!Kai & Anime!Hiro/Manga!Kai

Almost some Isekai bullshit. Where the Hiro’s are transported out of their world to the other one. Some weird planets aligned stuff.

Manga Hiro gets transported to the future where he’s older, and has come to find out a lot of bad things have happened. Volkov in this universe was a monster, and by extension, so was he. Takao doesn’t look up to him like he did, and his father and Ryu are disappointed by him. The team he cherished and coached can’t stand him and don’t trust him. Even hate him? Who is Brooklyn? What is BEGA?

Anime Hiro is taken to the past. There’s no BEGA. Volkov is still evil, but holy shit he wasn’t as bad as the Volkov back home. There’s a different level of respect from the Bladebreakers. And they’re just all different than how he remembers them back in his world.

Manga!Hiro has the toughest time, trying to piece things together through the internet and others. Until he confides in Mr. D, who looks like he’s crazy, but hears him out.

Insert hospital scene here, where idk some made up medical stuff where it’s like yeah this isn’t our Hiro. Maybe. Or it comes out there’s nothing wrong with his brain, and yeah Hiros a master manipulator but he seems different.

The slowest of burns for Manga!Hiro/Anime!Kai. Kai doesn’t trust him, and is under the impression this is just another one of Hiro’s plans. Kai still hates his guts after everything that happened during BEGA. Everything that was said, that he partnered up with Volkov.

Manga!Hiro trying to make amends for what other Hiro did. Apologizing. Volunteering. It feels pointless because people still see him as other Hiro. He feels so lonely. Isolated.

Again slow burn, but eventually Kai takes pity on Manga!Hiro and talks with him and hangs out with him. And maybe… maybe Hiro was telling the truth. There’s not this ominous aura around Hiro. There’s just this gentler vibe. The hairs on his neck don’t stand up, and his gut isn’t telling him to get away.

And Anime!Kai’s feelings begin to fester

-

Anime!Hiro is having the time of his LIFE!! he got to do all this shit in his other life and now he has no consequences of that. There’s no Volkov to pair up with. No looming over throw of the BBA, it’s surprisingly calm. He’s coaching the team, and they listen to him, including Hiwatari, who was such a little shit in the other world.

This isn’t a slow burn. This story is kinda icky??? Depending on how it’s written. I see Anime!Hiro as such a manipulator. He gets what he wants, without caring who he hurts. Also this would take place more towards the end of the Manga, ignoring Rising’s existence. So like 15-16ish Kai and a 22-23 Hiro. So like while good and legal in Japan, my western brain is like NOOOO.

He wants Kai. This world’s Kai isn’t insufferable. Isn’t a little shit. Is bright eyed and optimistic. Isn’t damaged goods from the abbey, which may or may not exists (he’ll research that later, as well as Yuriy, for reasons). Has daddy issues. Is kind of unsure of himself, blushes????? Really? It’s endearing, and this world’s Kai is kind of cute.

And yeah okay, maybe wanting Kai, is him just getting back at his world’s Kai.

If the other world’s Hiro/kai is a slow burn this is a spontaneous combustion. It happens so fast. Hiros almost a little disappointed there’s no chase at all. Kai just opens up to him. Emotionally and sexually. Share his frustration over his dad and Hiro listens, and shortly after he kisses Kai and it’s a done deal after that.

He wants to be rough and aggressive with Kai, after everything Anime!Kai put him through, but he can’t. At least not the first time, and then after he finds out Kai is into that.

And then the rest of the story would be Hiro being like, ya know what? Kai’s not that bad , and he slowly falls for Kai.

Would probably alternate between the two Hiro’s one chapter for one then the next chapter for the other. Or two separate fics. The usual one

[starlooove]

No bc fuck tim but it really really bothers me how people ignore his growth like he used to be an asshole and I’ll give tim Stans one thing: now he’s so so so stale but what I disagree with is that this staleness is bc nobody likes him like it’s in fact the exact opposite where everyone likes him so much they dont want to do anything. Even when it’s him surface level challenging Bruce it’s when everyone else is doing it too; but he’s still the backbone of the fam! Etc. and it’s so irritating bc him gaining more compassion and empathy even for people he doesn’t fw is so fun to watch and that’s why the captain boomerang thing was so out of character! (Not in a from the author way but in a tim wouldn’t do that and he and Bruce both knew it which is why it went down like it did. Same way dick killing joker was ooc; not in fanon sense but in a he would hate himself forever for this sense) and speaking of that it’s such an interesting mirror to Bruce who genuinely believes that everyone can grow vs Tim’s it doesn’t matter if they grow it’s not my decision to make like it’s the same but it’s not AND WITH CASS’ IT DOESNT MATTER IF THEY CHOOSE NOT TO GROW I WONT DO IT! like ugh. And anyways even when people acknowledge it they boil it down to “Janet and Jack taught him that the capitalist pigs that they are” like no. This is who tim was. Tim was the kind of guy who’d blame a dead kid for dying. That’s ok. Also Janet and Jack? Please reread anything involving them that’s not a fic like Jack had anger issues and they were both aloof at worst like relax.

[fideidefenswhore]

i feel like they basically tried to transpose the storyline/dynamic btwn coa and mary boleyn from tobg in tsp (with coa and bessie blount) and realllly overdid what was already well-done and entertaining.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!

I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!

Brother's Coworker

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.

A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.

Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.

“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts. 

“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles. 

Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.

“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”

“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head. 

Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest. 

Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”

You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts. 

“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!” 

“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly. 

Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.

“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”

“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you. 

“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”

“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”

Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back. 

“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod. 

“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”

“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes. 

Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even. 

This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet. 

He stands like a statue. 

“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.

“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.” 

A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.” 

You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”

Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.

Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.

“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.

“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John. 

Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.

Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.

Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.

Christ, how long had you been staring at him?

“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.” 

Your brother slashes you with a grin.

“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals. 

“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.” 

“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.

“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material. 

“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk. 

“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”

“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively. 

“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.

“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind. 

Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down. 

Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.

Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again. 

Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window. 

You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”

“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.” 

“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”

“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs. 

Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away. 

He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker. 

Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.

“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes. 

“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.

“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech. 

Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows. 

“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head. 

Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air. 

“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.” 

A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”

You huff and smirk. 

“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows. 

You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder. 

Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.

“That’s my job!” 

Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip. 

“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?” 

The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.

“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed. 

You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat. 

“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”

“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing. 

Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed. 

Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently. 

“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”

“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips. 

“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.” 

Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should. 

“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear. 

He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece. 

You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.” 

By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another. 

Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want. 

Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything. 

“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”

Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed. 

The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava. 

“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”

Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.

Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.

“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.” 

“I just told you—”

“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.” 

Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight. 

What in the hell was going on? 

Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible. 

For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was. 

In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too. 

He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively. 

When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed. 

“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”

“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.

“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.” 

The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” 

Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly. 

“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt. 

“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.

Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment. 

“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.” 

“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment. 

Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften. 

You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”

“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?” 

“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.” 

The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.

You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.” 

Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.

“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”

Splaying your hands, you back out. 

“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”  

“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.

“Well, why not?” Simon glares.

“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.

“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”

You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he’d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt. 

With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back. 

“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire. 

Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm. 

A secluded home. Nothing around. 

Then why had your words seeped into him?

“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.

—

In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death. 

As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you. 

Silent.

There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside. 

The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.

TAGS:

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[dungeonpuppykai]

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress. 

Not that they would be doing any more of that. 

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  

His eyes scan your form. 

Beautiful. 

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete. 

It is the people that live in it. 

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly. 

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 

You should have taken notice of the signs. 

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 

And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened? 

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?" 

He sighs. 

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions." 

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close. 

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back. 

The man is not chasing you like you expected. 

But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused. 

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying. 

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 

But you don't know when he does it. 

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him. 

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him. 

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck. 

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well. 

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test. 

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence. 

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat. 

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment. 

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while. 

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed. 

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

.

What do you think hAH-

[tobyfier]

Can you do a doppelgänger M!reader? Reader is a doppelgänger who manages to move into the apartment complex and readers original plan was to k!ll everyone the moment he was let in but the moment he’s allowed in he sees Francis just trying to get to his apartment and reader becomes immediately infatuated with him, he then has a change of plans. His new plan is to get Francis’s attention anyway possible.

This can be smut or not doesn’t matter you do whatever you want with this, this just came off the top of my head and I just need more milkman fics 😿😿

I’m inlove with a monster.

;Male reader

Genre: Fluff to smut

Warning: NSFW AT THE END!!! Bottom reader,Handjobs(receiving),creampie,make out session,overstimulation

A/n: Technically this isn’t my first time writing smut..however it has been a while since I wrote one, I’m just hoping it won’t look too cringy; as for the minors..I can’t exactly stop you from reading this, you guys are just growing people who’s going through puberty, I’ve been through that before. Now I will discourage minors who are BELOW 13 years old.

This doorman is taking a bit longer than usual to be honest. They seem to be double checking everything, did they figure it out or something? My heart stopped when I saw them reach for the phone ‘Fuck, I didn’t think of that.’ I didn’t break out of character just yet, there’s a possibility that the real one isn’t home. They waited and waited until they put the phone down. They stared at me for a while, cold sweat started to run down my neck before they smiled and pressed a button

“Alright, looks like you’re good to go!” I sighed from relief and nodded at them before going inside the building, I grinned to how naive the doorman is because of their mistake, they put everyone’s lives at risk, oh I can’t wait-…whoa..

3rd POV

M/n honestly felt like the world stopped moving when he say a guy infront of him struggling to open his door, he didn’t know who that guy or what his name is but all he knows is that he’s pretty charming. Once the man shut his door only then M/n snapped out of his trance, a slight blush covering his face. Trying to figure out what the hell just happened to him, it all felt so new to him and so unfamiliar. But nonetheless he didn’t dislike the feeling, he wanted more in fact..

‘New purpose, I’m gonna try and get as close with that mine and find out what this feeling is.’ M/n thought before going downstairs to ask for a spare key because he doesn’t have a key to his new house

Every single day M/n would try and greet Francis, to try and strike a conversation with him.

“Hey Francis, buddy ol pal, how you doing?” M/n greeted him, trying to act as normal and formal as possible but failing to do so.

“I’m doing fine, how about you mr. Moo juice?” Francis responded smiling a bit at the nickname he gave for M/n.

“It was one time!” M/n’s face burned from embarrassment, as a way to talk to Francis he tried ordering some milk from him when he stumbled on his words, calling milk ‘Moo juice’ by mistake.

“Well I’m sorry but it’s pretty much I possible for me to get that memory out of my head, it’s too funny!” Francis giggled, M/n could listen to him giggle every single day and will not get tired of hearing it

“Well-I still remember the time when you accidentally barged into my apartment thinking it was yours because you were drunk!” Now it was Francis turn to get embarrassed

“Well you can’t exactly blame a drunk man for it, I would barely comprehend what happened then!” Francis laughed before putting on his hat “I’d love to chat with you more but I still have to go to work. I’ll talk to you later, see you!” He greeted him goodbye and went down the hall to the elevator

2nd POV

You sighed, already missing his presence greatly. During the past few months you grew to be comfortable living in the apartments, forming friendship with the other neighbors most especially Francis, obviously. After some time you learned that the original you was actually a writer..a bit boring but you tried writing a few times and slowly you grew to like it.

Sometimes you wondered whether the original you and Francis ever talked to eachother, but from how shy and quiet he was during the first few conversations maybe not as close. Every single conversation,exchange of greetings,waves,or any interaction with him, you cherished every single one of them. With a help of a neighbor whom you call a friend named Mia, told you that it might be a crush or infatuation. And although it’s not really viewed as a good thing to date the same gender in public, you could care less about what other people think. You only cared about Francis view on it, I mean he has an ex wife and literally has a child. It’s impossible for him to like you back..

Atleast that’s what you hoped, you hoped this time you were wrong.

Timeskip

Francis’ POV

I sighed at the tiring day, driving house to house and city to city was really tiring. All I wanted was to go back to my apartment and rest..if not maybe chat with M/n again. He’s a really nice and fun person to be with, his energy was never really overwhelming and he’s the perfect person to talk to whenever I’m tired but also want someone to talk to. His stories are so interesting to listen to, especially the forbidden love ones.

If I had to be honest, I never thought him and I were gonna get close. After the “moo juice” incident, we started talking more. I hope I get to talk to him soon, for now I have to focus on delivering this milk trays. I looked back to see how much I have to deliver and saw that there was still a lot, he sighed “This is gonna take a while..”

.

.

.

.

I groaned, finally done delivering the milk and stumbled upon the elevator, pressing the 3rd button and waiting for it to close. I took off my hat and started fanning myself, hoping it will cool me off from the tiring job. I sighed in relief once I heard the elevator ring and walked out of the elevator to M/n’s apartment, knocking a few times before waiting.

M/n’s POV

I yawned tiredly, I just woke up from a nap because someone knocked on the door. Being a different species has it’s perks, one being having heightened hearing. I opened the door not caring if it was a Doppel or not, if it was then I could handle it anyway, I’m one myself..what I didn’t expect was a tired milkman collapsing on me like a drunken man.

“Bloody hell-you scared me!” I wrapped my arm on his torso and carried him to my couch, I tried walking away to get something when he suddenly pulled me into the couch, trapping me below him “Uhm..Francis buddy, let me go. I’m gonna get some pillows for you.”

“No..stay here, I’ll just use you as my pillow..” he mumbled, hugging me tighter. It’s adorable seeing him in such state, it reminded me of the time he got drunk

“You’re Lucky You’re adorable..” i mumbled suddenly, not even thinking of my words, I slapped my hand over my mouth. Francis tensed and looked at me

“You find me adorable?” He asked, he doesn’t sound disgusted nor angry, actually he sounds shock and intrigue

“Uh yeah, I do actually..” What the fuck am I saying, he might think I’m weird now!

“..I’m glad you think of me that way too..” he said before laying his head on my chest..wait what.

“Hold on what-you cant just say that so suddenly!” I said sitting up straight so he won’t fall asleep on me

“Why not? You said it first.” He replied, my face burned from embarrassment

“I mean yeah but I didn’t expect you to think I’m cute..” I said blushing a bit

“Why not? I mean sometimes you act like a dog, obedient and gets excited when it comes to certain things. Especially when you’re talking about your new story. Everything about you is cute.” He said, not minding the effects of what his words did to me, bastard even smirked.

“Stop it, you’re saying things out of the blue!” I yelled, hiding my face from him, but my heart stopped when I heard what he said next

“Not to mention when you’re so tired, you don’t notice the little horns sticking out of your head.” I stopped for a moment and slowly looked at him, does he..I quickly grabbed his wrists and pinned him in the couch

“When did you know about me.” I asked sternly, although I liked him, I didn’t wanna go back to the d.d.d’s. No, i already had a good life and I won’t let it go away.

“The first week after we talked.” How is he so calm about this? I mean a doppelgänger pinning him to the couch, potentially getting eaten? “I already know you won’t hurt nor eat me, you love me too much for you to do that.”

“Well I uh..true..” I replied, loosening my grip on his wrists, in return he slipped his hand out and slowly he sat up

“See, I knew you love me..” he said soothingly while rubbing my head, like a dog..I sighed

“You didn’t even tell me?..” I asked, I’m a bit suprised how he’s handling this situation so calmly

“I always rub your head like this and it just goes away.” He said before pulling his hand back “see? It’s gone.”

“IT WAS THERE AGAIN?!” I yelled, he chuckled

“So uh..what are we now?..” he asked, I tilted my head in confusion

“Are we-I mean can you-do you wanna be together?..” he asked in a low voice, I was silent for a moment before quickly hugging him

“You don’t know how happy I am for you to tell that you actually like me back, even after knowing I’m not even the original M/n..” I hugged him tighter, I felt his arms wrap around my lower back and buried his face on my hair

“If I had to be honest, I prefer you over the original..and don’t think I haven’t noticed you.” He said giggling a bit, I was confused on what he meant by that “I can always see glancing at me from a far,from how your mood drastically changes depending if I’m in the room or not,and don’t get me started with those lovable dork eyes of yours with the mention of my name. And Mia ratted you out.”

“She what?!” I yelled, I groaned loudly and slapped a hand on my face, I means it’s expected..this is Mia we’re talking about, she literally told me all of the gossip when we first talked..

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, I looked at him with wide eyes, is it just me or is he getting bolder? “So is that a no-“

“Yes!” I quickly answered before shutting my mouth, it sounded like I was desperate or something, he seemed to like it by the way he chuckled

Before I knew, our lips smashed with each other, the kiss felt nice..it was comforting and tender, and filled with love. Something I wanted to experience everyday, and I’ll be sure to make that happen. Unfortunately he pulled away, I leaned forward unconsciously and he laughed through his nose.

“It seems you liked it it by how you leaned for more.” He laughed a bit, I could only stare at him with adoration, yeah I could definitely get used to this..

I quickly pulled him into another one to which he reciprocated quickly, the kiss was much more intense than before. I opened my mouth a little to get some air when he suddenly pushed his tongue inside my mouth, to which I choked at the sudden sensation but I welcomed it nonetheless. Looks can be deceiving, he’s the right person to use for it, at first he way seem like a tired and inexperienced person but boy..when I tell you he’s good..

Soon he pulled away so we can catch our breaths, a string of saliva connected our mouths as we planted from the session we had. My face was red considering it was my first time doing that, I was a bit surprised how well and experienced he is actually.

“Do you still wanna go further?” He asked, either way he already knows I’m gonna say yes due to the tent in my pants anyway

“Y-yeah sure.” I stuttered, he seems to be looking at my pants

“Just wanted to ask, since you’re a doppelgänger and you can alternate yourself, I’m just wondering if there’s a possibility you can alternate down there?” He asked, ah so that’s why

“Yeah, why? Do you want me to change it?” I asked but he shook his head as a no

“No, I want something to play with while doing it.” I raised an eyebrow at his statement

“..what?..”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“O-oh shit-!” I gasped when his pace became faster, currently we were in my bedroom giving me a handjob, he had an iron grip on my leg so I couldn’t crawl away “Hah ah-I shouldn’t..have ah!-asked..” I managed to speak

He just chuckled at my disheveled appearance, my hair was a mess. Sticking to my forehead, some got tangled by how much I turned my head side to side to ignore the feeling. My clothes are long gone, all thrown to the floor thanks to Mr. Milkman. Francis was shirtless and his hat was on my head, saying I looked cuter with it. This guy really likes seeing me like this doesn’t he?

“Please..” I muttered, I’m close and I’m sure he noticed it too by how my dick throb in his hand.

“Please what dearie? I can’t hear you.” He teased, smug bastard.

“Let m-me come mngh..please-I’m clo-HNGK..!” I choked on my spit once he gripped it and speed up the pace much faster than before, I tried to hold it in but the bastard was determined to make me release, and so I did. White streaks shot out from the tip, landing on his chest and to my stomach. I panted like a person who ran a marathon, but it felt great. It was something I’ve never really felt before..

I looked over at him to see him wipe some of the cum of his chest and to his mouth, I blushed at the act and immediately yelled at him

“Spit that out, it’s dirty!” He didn’t listen of course, fucker even snapped his tongue

“It’s sweet and salty..” he seemed a bit surprised, is it because of the salty part or sweet?

“Probably from all the milk you delivered to me..” I finally calmed down from my high but noticed that he was unbuckling his belt.

“H-hold on, you’re not finished I thought-hey!” I was a bit surprised when he listed my other leg and rested it on his shoulder, I grabbed a pillow to hold on to, something tells this one is gonna be different..

“You didn’t think I was finish were you?” His eyes met mine and instantly I felt small “I still haven’t had my problem solved yknow?”

Oh yeah he’s right, it would be a bit unfair to stop this when he hasn’t finished his yet. And so I hug my pillow, preparing for what’s about to happen. I dozed off a bit, obviously this is my first time and I have no experience with this kind of things, I just wondered how it was gonna feel whether it would lean more to pain or-

“Holy sh-mngh..!” I bite into the pillow when I felt my stretched up when he entered, it stinged, not in a way it was painful, it felt good..

He didn’t think so though because he immediately stopped and looked at me with concern “Sh-shit I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you..” he apologized, rubbing circles around my thighs

“It’s fine..it-..it felt good.” I admitted “Keep going..”

He blushed and nodded, slowly he pushed the rest of it in me, I muffled myself using the pillow. Holy shit did that feel nice, never really thought it would feel this good honestly.

“Can I move?” He asked softly, it’s cute how he still needs to ask

“Yes..” I replied

He indeed took that opportunity and pulled away, leaving the tip inside me before thrusting back. I choked out a moan, not expecting the sudden rough movement, not that I was complaining though it was kind of attractive.

The pace was fast and hard, the way he feels inside of me was something I could never explain in words. He was quite literally hitting all of the right place, like he studied my body and memorized all of the sensitive parts. The bed started creaking from how fast he was going but I could careless, all I could think about was him and him only. I was close again, the knot in my stomach was back. And as if he’s reading my thoughts his hand gripped my dick once more and started pumping it. His hand felt so nice against my dick, I could get used to this all day.

“F-fuck!..too ah-!m..much..” I moaned out, I didn’t even notice the tears that were rolling down my face atop the pillows. I could feel his thrust getting uneven “Please..!”

“You can k-keep it in, just a few more..” he panted, chasing his release, he slowed down his hand so I wouldn’t release so soon.

A few thrusts and soon he came inside of me, the feeling of being filled up plus his hand pumping my dick immediately put me to my climax. We both panted, riding out our high from the activity. He exhaled and collapsed his body on mine due to exhaustion.

“Oof bloody hell are you heavy.” I stated, he chuckled tickling my neck

“How was it?..” he asked after moving a little so I can breath, his arms were wrapped around my waist

“It’s scary how you know my body so well despite this being the first time you’re exploring it..” I admitted “You were great.”

“Glad to know..” he muttered, burrying his face onto my neck even more

Silence engulfed the room..

“How am I supposed to explain my neighbors about these bite marks and hickeys littered all around my neck. I swear you did this on purpose didn’t you.” I slapped his head weakly to which he laughed and hugged me tighter

“Yeah yeah, I’m sorry. But it’s not my fault you had a pretty neck, I couldn’t help it!” He stated

“Oh so that’s my fault?!” I laughed

Yeah I’m definitely gonna get used to this now..

[sunnitheapollokid]

✴️ ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。GO ON AND PUT THAT RING ON MY FINGER!

how the heroes of olympus would react to you accidentally calling them “husband”! <3

characters in this thread : leo valdez, percy jackson, jason grace, frank zhang.

📬 sunni’s notes : hey sunni nation school is biting me in the ass but i am thriving (barely) ANYWAAAY i was thinking of some fic ideas and this had crossed my mind and thought it would be fun!! lowkey breaking my silence because i haven’t gone far enough to write about our boy frank so if he’s a little out of character then i apologize </3 okay happy reading bebis! sunkisses!!! >3<

ʚ PERCY JACKSON ɞ . . .

⊹ you and percy spent christmas break at sally’s apartment!

⊹ it was a snowy new york city day, and y’all decided to stay in and just bake some cookies with his mom, while paul was out for work.

⊹ “hell yeah!! cookies!!” percy yelled, grabbing the ingredients from the apartment pantry, a bag of flour, sugar, and white chocolate chips in his arms.

⊹ sally clapped her hands, “(name), honey, grab the powdered sugar please?” you nodded, on your way to the pantry.

⊹ you scanned the small room, percy walking beside you, his hands on his hips. he hit your hips with his own sassily, “come on babe, it’s right there.” he teased.

⊹ rolling your eyes you reply,

⊹ “hubba, i’m trying—“ you cut yourself off. “i.. i mean— ah.. i-“

⊹ percy, silent for a bit, burst into laughter, holding his stomach.

⊹ your cheeks growing a shade of pink, he helf you by the waist and peppered you with wet kisses. “awww, my dear ‘ol wife!” he said in a posh-accent.

⊹ you tried to get out of his embrace, but he kept his grip, “perce! stop!!” you laughed with him, percy continued his kisses before you two got scolded at by sally.

⊹ “love birds! hurry with the powdered sugar!”

⊹ before leaving back for school, percy asked his mom for engagement ring ideas.

⊹ this man did not want to waste time.

ʚ LEO VALDEZ ɞ . . .

⊹ spending your time back in leo’s cabin, everybody was gone for the end of summer break, and leo was the only one left back at the heph cabin.

⊹ you laid on his bed while he worked on a few projects, tossing a piece of metal in the air and catching it, letting it keep you distracted.

⊹ leo hummed, “mami, you okay?” he kept his eyes glued to the small machine infront of him.

⊹ you hummed back, “yeah. i’m peachy hubba.”

⊹ your eyes widen.

⊹ his eyes widen.

⊹ “wh.. whAT’D YOU SAY??” leo jumped, his goggles falling from his face.

⊹ “I MEANT BUBBA! NOT HUBBA!”

⊹ despite your efforts in justifying the accidental nickname, leo had twinkles in his eyes.

⊹ “i definitely heard you call me your husband.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

⊹ you folded i’m afraid.

⊹ “when did we have a wedding? i’m sure i’d remember you in white mami.”

⊹ gods, the wink. he gave you a wink.

⊹ HE DEFINITELY FLEXED IT AT THE SEVENS GANG.

⊹ “oh, i don’t know about you guys but i’m pretty sure (name) just called me her husband.”

⊹ “oh shut up you already told us that.”

ʚ JASON GRACE ɞ . . .

⊹ sunny day out!

⊹ y’all were out in new york for a totally normal mortal date, which you guys think you deserved by the way.

⊹ you guys we’re just out window shopping and coo’ing at old dogs that their owners had walked them out for, your hands interwined.

⊹ jason always caught a glimpse of your beaming smile whenever you waved at a dog passing by.

⊹ “where do you wanna go next honey?” he spoke softly, continuing your walking.

⊹ “mm.. coffee shop?”

⊹ the blondie shrugging his shoulders, mirroring the same grin his girlfriend had, he nodded.

⊹ excited to get some coffee, you don’t truly realize your choice of words,

⊹ “thanks hubba!—“

⊹ at first, jason and you don’t really realize it since at this point, you two we’re a married couple by the way you act.

⊹ the intimacy and the pure comfort of you guys.

⊹ from the rest of the sevens point of few, you two we’re like parents to them.

⊹ but he brings it up the minute you guys inhale the aroma of fresh brewed coffee.

⊹ “hubba?” he said in-between soft chuckles, a pink blush growing on his face as his nervousness starts to creep up his spine.

⊹ she grinned, “you like it?”

⊹ “love it.” and he kissed your cheek longingly.

ʚ FRANK ZHANG ɞ . . .

⊹ frank tackled you gently into a bear hug.

⊹ the poor boy was training until sunrise.

⊹ you giggled under your breath as he basically enveloped you in his embrace.

⊹ “you sleepy, baby?” you whispered, the giggles unable to be kept.

⊹ frank nodded while he nuzzled his face in your shoulder, just savoring the moment you guys we’re having together under the sunrise of camp.

⊹ “just sleep hubba.” you slipped out, but frank was unable to overhear. though, he truly, truly, did overhear.

⊹ he was too tired to react, keeping his face in your shoulder, but he let out a hum, a faint smile on his face.

⊹ “thank you love.”

⊹ “anything for you.”

⊹ though the moment he woke up, unsure to bring it up, he came up to you,

⊹ “you uh.. called me something, when i fell asleep.”

⊹ you cocked a brow, confused, then it hit you.

⊹ “OH! sorry— force of habit.” you grinned.

⊹ frank melted at your gaze, kissing your forehead, “maybe we should make it a normal habit.”

[theyluvkarolina]

hi hi!!

i just read your lando angst fic. so good ahhhhhh😩🤌🏻

um.. and if your requests are open… could i request a max verstappen x manager! reader where she is real madrid’s or mancity’s social media manager or something and she’s sorta famous herself and has a really good relationship w her team. and max goes to one of the games and meets her and all the guys are teasing her (like how brothers tease their sister over things haha) and they get together after a while ?

sorry if that was so specific😅 love your works!! and i understand if you don’t want to do it!! have a lovely day <3

𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` you break her heart, i’ll cut your dick off. ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Meeting a f1 driver at your job wasn’t on the bucket list. However, crushing and getting teased by your new team members as if you were their little sister makes this much more worse interesting.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ max verstappen x fem!reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ none!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ GOOGLE TRANSLATED SPANISH!! I’M NOT AT ALL A SPANISH SPEAKER PLEASE BEAR WITH ME!, Y/n is a major fangirl for Max 😭, i made y/n a bit more… sassy? sex jokes again

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ i’d like to apologize for how long this took and that i definitely could have done this request better than this considering how happy I was to do this but my writers block has been out of control lately :( as for the teasing, i went the more “over-protective brothers” route. I hope that’s okay with you!

𝐀/𝐍 2 ୨୧ … safe to say i did NOT plan for this to be finished and come out on the one race max got a dnf 😭😭

INSTAGRAM, 1 year ago.

realmadrid ✔︎

realmadrid ¡Al Real Madrid FC le gustaría anunciar a nuestra nueva gerente de redes sociales, la Sra. Y/N L/N! Nos gustaría felicitarla por esta increíble oportunidad y por su dedicación no solo al Real Madrid, sino también al equipo. ¡Bienvenido Y/N!

-

Real Madrid FC would like to announce our new Social Media manager, Ms. Y/N L/N! We would like to congratulate her on this amazing opportunity and her dedication to not only Real Madrid, but to the team. Welcome Y/N!

INSTAGRAM, present time.

fabriziorom ✔︎

fabriziorom ✔︎ Who’s gonna win 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞? 🏆

𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒 ⤵️✨

Atlético or BVB 🆚 Barcelona or Paris Saint-Germain.

Real Madrid or Manchester City 🆚 Arsenal or Bayern.

5,643 comments

username1 Real hardest matchup again

username2 Let's all laugh at vardrid we're going to see 5-1 aggregate again 😂

→ username3 bro thinks barça has been doing shit for the past 5 years 💀 → username4 at least we don’t rely on VAR → username5 at least we have 14 champion league wins

username6 Real Madrid revenge arc coming soon.....

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ WTF

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ guys i can’t do this

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ i’m stressing

username6 someone check on Y/N rn

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ me because we are versing Man City in Champions League.

2,345 comments

judebellingham ✔︎ what is that photo of me.

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ art.

username7 DON’T REMIND ME

username8 girl aren't you supposed to believe in your team?? 💀

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ even it's okay to admit defeat once in a while. → judebellingham ✔︎ BE CONFIDENT BLOODY HELL 😭 → y/n_l/nmadrid IT’S DIFFERENT WHEN YOU'RE THE ONE WATCHING 😞😞

tonirudiger ✔︎ BELIEVE IN US 💪 💪 🔥

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ i wish I had your positivity toni 🥹 → tonirudiger ✔︎ don’t worry y/n! we will win! 💪 💪 🔥 → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ i think you can stop with the emojis → tonirudiger ✔︎ 👍

y/n_l/nmadrid

y/n_l/nmadrid you guys are in a crisis…. i’m on my way.

2,341 comments

camavinga ✔︎ jude has been influencing you too much.

→ judebellingham ✔︎ and? supernanny is a good show. → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ someone is jelly they haven’t seen peak british tv. → judebellingham ✔︎ it’s telly you fake 🙄

vinijr ✔︎ those headphones look familiar 🤔 🤔

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ shhhhh

username9 what even is the “crisis”???

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ man city. → rodrygo ✔︎ stop this rn.

y/n_l/nmadrid has posted a story 1 hour ago!

realmadrid ✔︎

realmadrid up up and away! ✈️ Onto Manchester 👊

5,423 comments

username10 i still forget it’s y/n making these posts for the team 😭😭

username11 i love how she does a whole 360 with the actual team insta posts than her own 💀

username12 WE DEMAND MORE LUKA POSTS!!

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ I WOULD BUT THE OLD MAN IS GETTING ANNOYED BY IT → judebellingham ✔︎ yeah because you have an entire album dedicated to him and then cry when you think about him retiring??? → username13 EXCUSE ME??? → username14 y/n crying because of modrić being close to retiring 🥹🥹 → username15 WHY ARE WE IGNORING THE FACT SHE HAS AN ALBUM DEDICATED TO HIM??? →username16 because who wouldn’t cry about him retiring → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ @ username16 is right → judebellingham ✔︎ @ username16 i second that → rodrygo ✔︎ @ username16 make that 3. → camavinga ✔︎ @ usernme16 4. → fedevalverde ✔︎ @ username16 5 😅 → lukamodric10 ✔︎ I’m retiring not dying 😓

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

realmadrid ✔︎

realmadrid ✔︎ Miss Y/N hard at work! What do you think she is writing? 🤔 ✍️

3,456 comments

username17 how to win against Man City

username18 how to not piss herself watching the game.

ardaguler ✔︎ she works?! 😧 😧

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ you get playing time?! → username19 SHOTS FIRED 😭 → ardaguler ✔︎ :( → username20 WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU 😭😭 → judebellingham ✔︎ be nice to the baby he hasn’t been here that long to know your harmless 😞 → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ @ judebellingham don’t say that as if you haven’t been here for less than a year either. → judebellingham ✔︎ this is what you sound like: wah wah wah

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ congrats to my favorite boys!! onto the quaters! 🫶🫶

2,479 comments

username21 she’s actually so unserious 😭

pablogavi imgagine not believing in your own team

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ imagine being on a team that lost 7-2 in the champions league against bayern munich → pablogavi you won’t let barca live this down will you? → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ nope. 🫶

judebellingham now you believe in us??? 😒 😒

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ shush. be happy i even posted about you guys.

tonirudiger ✔︎ working hard! 💪 🔥

lukamodric10 great teamwork! 👏

toni.kr8s what a game 😮

username22 toni and luka are such parents 💀

y/n_l/nmadrid has posted a story 1 hour ago!

judebellingham replied to your story!

judebellingham Y/N YOU ARSE LOOK AT THE GROUP CHAT PLEASE y/n_l/nmadrid … y/n_l/nmadrid should I be scared? Read at 5:32 PM y/n_l/nmadrid wowww okay i see how it is

mxverstappen1 has posted a story 5 minutes ago!

TWITTER

iMessages

INSTAGRAM

f1 ✔︎

f1 ✔︎ Max wins it in Silverstone! 🦁 An outstanding performance once again by the Dutchman! 👏

6,432 comments

username22 another day, another gp max ate.

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ NO WAY THIS IS THE MAN THAT KEPT ME COMPANY WHEN I WAS LOST

→ username23 no way homegirl didn’t recognize THE max vertsappen 💀💀 → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ damn i’m sorry my entire sports knowledge is the one i work for 😞

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ lowkey… he kinda fine 🤭

→ judebellingham ✔︎ bloody hell → camavinga ✔︎ we need an intervention for her rn → fedevalverde ✔︎ euthanize her. → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ FEDE??? → usernme24 y/n gets the appeal → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ when you do work with men in sports your forced to see apeal.

username25 DU DU DU DU 🔥 🗣️🔥 🦁 MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏎️🔥 🗣️

maxverstappen1 ✔︎

maxverstappen1 game of padel before race day!

tagged ; landonorris, fernandoalonso, danielricciardo

3125 comments

username25 f1 is just a jobby for him at this point 😭

username26 the goats and some guy named lando

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ is he single

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ that’s a handsome man right there 🥴

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ he can paddle me anyday 😊😊

→ username27 MA’AM ??? → username28 the Real Madrid boys are NOT gonna be happy → judebellingham ✔︎ WHAT IS THIS??? → rodrygo ✔︎ i wish i can bleach my eyes out rn. → camavinga ✔︎ tell luka to giver her meds now. → tonirudiger ✔︎ already messaged him! 🔥 → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ CAN I THIRST IN PEACE???

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ fun trip to manchester and london!

2,347 comments

judebellingham ✔︎ we should have left you at the flower shop

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ but then who will make you guys do silly dances that the fans demand 😞

lukamodric10 ✔︎ moja kći ❤️

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ lukita 🥹 → username29 the day luka leaves is the day i die.

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ very pretty lady 🙃

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ 🤭 🤭

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ is she single by chance 🤔

→ brahim ✔︎ woah woah woah → aurelientchm ✔︎ what do you think you are doing? → vinijr ✔︎ back up dutchie → judebellingham ✔︎ away from our girl → tonirudiger ✔︎ no she’s not actually ! → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ yes i am very much single 😚 → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ don’t listen to them!

iMessages

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ ; Date #1

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ karting and fifa is my kind of date 🏎️ 🎮

tagged ; y/n_l/nmadrid

5,628 comments

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ ofc you use Barcelona 🙄 🙄

→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ is it bad to support my favorite team? 😅 → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ if you wanna be with me then it is 🤨 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ noted.

toni.kr8s ✔︎ is this why you took the day off??

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ …noooo… → rodrygo ✔︎ she’s lying lock her up in the locker room. → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ no thank you i don’t need to smell you stinkers → camavinga ✔︎ okay we don’t smell THAT bad after a game. → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ 😬 about that..

username30 HELLO???

username31 the sports collab we didn’t know we needed

username32 this was NOT on my 2024 calendar…

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ Date #2

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ busy trying to make a new Madridista 🤍

tagged ; maxverstappen1

3,456 comments

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ you’d look good in blue and red 🥴

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ i was going to agree until i realized what you were doing. → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ i don’t know what you are talking about.

username33 they are lowkey so cute

judebellingham ✔︎ why are you collaborating with the enemy.

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ he literally drives fast cars and is not a barca player?? → ardaguler ✔︎ that’s what he wants you to think 🤫

pablogavi ✔︎ why convert him if you can join him? 😉

→ vinijr ✔︎ get out of OUR pr managers comments. → pablogavi ✔︎ make me → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ i’m literally gonna block both of you if you don’t stop acting like kids. AND THAT’S COMING FROM ME → vinijr ✔︎ …yes ma’am. → pablogavi ✔︎ 😶

rodrygo ✔︎ stop acting like a couple in the stands. it makes me wanna puke.

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ NOW YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL WITH YOU AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND.

TWITTER

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ Date #3

maxverstappen1 my good luck charm 💙

tagged ; y/n_l/nmadrid

7,346 comments

y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ stooopppp you’re making me blush 🫣

→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ liefje 🫶 → vinijr ✔︎ ew 🤢 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ sounds like someone is sad and single. → landonorris what’s wrong with being sad and single 😞

redbullracing ✔︎ wonderful job out there 👊 🔥

→ ferrari ✔︎ hey @ redbullracing ! please stop winning so some of us have a chance! 😊 → realmadrid ✔︎ no thanks @ ferrari! we like that the newest golden boy of the family i winning :) → judebellingham ✔︎ oh! → ardaguler ✔︎ :( → lukamodric10 ✔︎ since when was there a new golden boy?!

username33 DU DU DU DU 🔥 🗣️🔥 🦁 MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏎️🔥 🗣️

username34 it’s them against the world

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

f1

f1 Max Verstappen and his #1 Fan! 👫❤️

tagged ; maxverstappen1 & y/n_l/nmadrid

6,734 comments

landonorris ✔︎ okay maybe i am sad and single

→ ameliadimz ✔︎ ??? i’m right here 🙄 → landonorris ✔︎ your right my bad 🫶

judebellingham ✔︎ …fine i’ll let this relationship slide.

→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ am i bellingham approved?? 😮 → judebellingham ✔︎ don’t get your hopes up mate. i’m doing it for her not you 😑 → y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ jude 🥹🥹

lukamodric10 ✔︎ ti razbiti ona srce, odrezat ću ti kurac.

→ y/n_l/nmadrid ✔︎ i’m

→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ yes sir.

→ username35 ✔︎ HELLO???

→ username35 ✔︎ LUKA??

→ rodrygo ✔︎ i don’t know much croatian but i know that is not good.

TRANSLATIONS

cro: ti razbiti ona srce, odrezat ću ti kurac.

eng: you break her heart, i’ll cut your dick off.

[gffa]

Did you know I’ve probably cried like a dozen times from BATFAMILY fic over the last two weeks? I’m not a big cryer, so that’s saying something for me, by which I mean, I realize I have some incredibly intense feelings about fictional characters, but also fandom is phenomenal about hitting those feelings dead on in exactly the way they mean to do. And it’s great, hell yeah make me cry buckets in emotional catharsis!! And then balance it out with comfort or humor because my soul needs soothing, too! I have been reading so many comics lately (so many good comics, what is this, I’m not used to having comics I actually think are good) and I love the canon so very much, but part of the draw towards this fandom has always been the enthusiastic fic response, the willingness to explore things the comics themselves don’t always have time for, whether aftermath of events or psychological effects that aren’t necessarily intended but are fascinating to consider or just straight up downtime that’s not about a case because fic doesn’t need to make people punch things in every issue. The two go hand in hand for me and getting fun comics to read and fun fic to read has been really meaningful to me in a time when I’ve really needed that in my life. I hope that I can return the favor even a little by shoving a bunch of fics at you and only making you scroll a little to get through my Dick Grayson Problem. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ May Our Memories Light The Way by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce, time travel, 1.9k      Bruce travels into the past and serves up an apology long over-due. ✦ Late Spring by halyordan, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.5k      Dick gets in his first ‘fight’ at school. Luckily, Bruce was an angry boy once. He knows how to deal with it. ✦ the color violet by TheResurrectionist, dick & bruce & cast, 2.6k      The address – 1007 Mountain Drive – told Alex two things: one, their patient was either going to be someone unreasonably wealthy or an unlucky service worker, and two, getting to the actual patient was going to be a bitch. ✦ as i was walkin’ by oh_fudgecakes, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.6k      Bored and chased out of the kitchen by an irate Alfred, a young Dick Grayson falls through a loose floorboard while exploring the attic and ends up in an locked storeroom housing an interesting set of journals. ✦ help me fill this hole in my soul by renecdote, dick & bruce & cast, 5.9k      Dick nearly drowns on patrol one night. He’s fine, except that he really isn’t. Alfred and Bruce take care of him when he gets sick and let him know that even though his parents are gone he isn’t alone. ✦ medio by newsical, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k      Loss, again. This loss was by his hand, by his own tongue, with words so sharply edged that they tore apart his mouth and left his lips bloody. The manor was silent, and he was alone. And Alfred’s half birthday was in three days. ✦ My Little Bird (is a Troublemaker) by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 10.9k      No, not good enough, thought Bruce as he gripped the boy’s shoulders in his hands. Dick still didn’t move and the man had to resist the violent urge to shake the answer out of him. This wasn’t his little bird. This wasn’t his Robin, he would never do something like this. Dick gets caught drunk, Bruce loses it. ✦ things kept hidden by emavee, dick & bruce & cast, 9.7k      “Better hope the Batman doesn’t catch wind of you. Batman hates metas. He’ll make you disappear. That’s what he does.” “But I’d never hurt anyone,” Dick stammers. He doesn’t know very much about Batman, but he’s a hero, right? He fought crime, like Superman, and Superman was a hero. Right? ✦ (Not) Enough by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k      After the training simulation goes wrong, Bruce takes his kid home. ✦ i can’t promise (it’s not written in the stars) by konan_konan, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 7.3k      Batman is following him, surely, but he’s smaller and faster and he’s not going to let someone take him and lock him up again. Wayne Manor, he’s learned, is just another kind of prison. It may be big and fancy but it is also empty and cold and he’s not going back. Tony Zucco dies tonight, he tells himself. It is the only thing that matters. ✦ what’s needed most by dizarys, dick & bruce & alfred, 1k      Dick wants to fly. Bruce would like that to not involve giving him a heart attack for once. ✦ two sheep counted, but not enough to sleep by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader), dick & bruce, 1.8k      Dick hasn’t been sleeping. It’s a problem Bruce should have addressed by now. BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ (At the Very Least), I Can by sElkieNight60, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian, 3k      “… something is wrong.” That was Bruce’s voice, he would know it anywhere. OR, Dick Grayson + Full Body Paralysis ✦ Catch by sElkieNight60, bruce & dick, 2k      Raptor has Bruce in dire straits. Nightwing catches Bruce as he falls. Then it turns out Bruce never fell at all, he jumped. “Dick. I didn’t fall. I jumped. I jumped because I knew you’d catch me.” Childhood trauma never truly goes away, it seems. OR, the emotional aftermath of “Better than Batman.” ✦ Call Me if You Need Me by LiterallyThePresident, bruce & dick & alfred, 1.1k      “Master Bruce is rather distraught, you see.” and now Alfred sounded pained, “The dose he received was not enough to render him immobile, but it is causing some paranoia and unpleasant hallucinations. He… Well, he appears to be rather convinced that something has happened to you.” BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Sons and Fathers by FabulaRasa, dick & bruce & jefferson & dick/babs, 4.9k     Dick has three conversations that needed to be had, at the end of season three. This is blatantly a “there I fixed it” fic. ✦ The Best Medicine by JpegDotJpeg, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cass, 2.2k      “I’m dying.” “You are not dying.” “This is it. It’s the end for me. I bet I have some exotic viral disease with no known cure and now I’m going to waste away into nothingness.” “I highly doubt that, Master Richard.” ✦ Look to the Stars by Zephyrra, dick & bruce & jason & hal & alfred & cast, lantern!dick, 8.3k      After Batman fires Robin for the last time, Dick becomes a Flying Grayson in an entirely new way: by becoming a Green Lantern. But no matter what kind of mask he dons, Dick Grayson has a way of (accidentally) changing history irrevocably. This is only the beginning. ✦ the courage of stars by theragingstorm, dick & clark/lois & jon & cast, 1.8k      When he really needs somebody, Dick goes to Metropolis. ✦ a great honour (to hold you up) by dizarys, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 2.6k      “For the last time, I’m not getting sick!” Jason and Tim exchanged skeptical looks behind Dick’s back. “You’re pale, shivering, and wince every time your bare skin touches the cold metal desk.” Jason ticked off on grease smeared fingers, “Sounds sick to me.” “Wonderful observations, Holmes.” Dick muttered, still looking through the microscope. “What does Watson have to add?” “That first of all, I’m Sherlock.” said Tim, “And my associate is correct. You should go get some rest.” ✦ i am tired of all these motherfuckin’ bombs on these motherfuckin’ spaceships by konan_konan, dick & bruce & damian & titans & background dick/kory & justice league, 4.5k      “Those generators won’t last long,” barks Batman. “We’re losing our window. What other plan do you propose, Nightwing?” He huffs. “I’m gonna blow up the ship.” or: when the justice league gets stranded in space, the teen titans come to the rescue. it doesn’t exactly go to plan. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT HIS SIBLINGS BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY: ✦ abyssal plain by glassofwater, dick & jason, 3.5k      “What did you do?” “Exactly what he said. I killed him.” ✦ Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once, tim & jason & cast, 5.5k      ‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’ Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then- ‘Don’t tell Bruce.’ ✦ Break the Ice by dizarys, dick & jason, 1.5k      He felt the blades pierce his body. It was at the height of his leap, back arched as he sprang backwards over the car. A bolt of searing hot pain shot through his side then thigh. But Nightwing still landed with grace and flung his escrima sticks straight into two gang members’ heads. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Not Quite Saudade by Wisptheraccoon, dick & damian & bruce & jason & tim & alfred & jon, 3.1k      Aka. The reason Dick is no longer allowed to leave on long missions without Damian. ✦ Scorpion-grass by Ididloveyou_once, dick & damian & bruce & tim, 2.9k      Damian gets hit with fear toxin and is forced to relive Dick losing his memories… Dick could’ve gone without knowing how the kid reacted to his amnesia. ✦ what’s waited till tomorrow starts tonight by theragingstorm, dick & damian & john/mary & cast, time travel, 63.4k wip      After an argument with his Batman, Dick Grayson, Damian finds himself in Dick’s past, with one of his greatest tragedies fast approaching and no easy route forward for either. As long as he risks being stuck seventeen years in the past, all he can do is live at the circus, with a family he never knew — and just maybe learn from it all. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ When Wisdom Must Go by AnicomicQueen, bruce & dick & tim, 5.1k      Bruce experiences taking his children to get their wisdom teeth removed. Chapter 1: Dick (Age: 17) Chapter 2: Tim (Age: 16) ✦ So you’ll know where I’ve been by victoria_p (musesfool), jason & steph, 2.1k      “I just noticed your scars.” “We all have—Oh.” Jason drops his gaze again, runs his fingers along the faded incision on the left side of his chest. “No one else has one of these.” ✦ and when you’re in the trenches by dizarys, jason & tim & dick, 4.3k      When Jason stumbles across a shocking discovery, he’s forced to decide how much he truly cares about the people he used to call family. ✦ The Kids Are All Right by Browniesarethebest, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred, 11.4k      Dick and Tim are de-aged. It goes about as well as anyone would expect. ✦ World’s Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & cass & steph & duke & cast, 7k      Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake. BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NOT EVEN CANON WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Not So Large but Definitely In Charge by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), dick & tim & bruce & alfred, 6.7k      Alternate universes suck so much. Tim has always known that, but he’s never really grasped it, not until he and Dick were forcibly thrown into one a week ago. ✦ there’ll always be a few things, maybe several things by incogneat_oh, dick & tim, ~1k      Tim breaks the silence, half-glancing over his shoulder to murmur, “Pop-culture has taught me that you’re supposed to seek out your parent in the middle of the night. Not your sibling.” “Pop-culture isn’t a perfect teacher, Timmy.” ✦ will we ever get to the other side? by dizarys, dick & tim, 4.8k      Blockbuster is dead and Dick is lost. Haunted by that night and no longer Nightwing, he flees Gotham only to find himself back in Bludhaven on mob business. Now Robin is the city’s new protector and Dick is determined to avoid Tim & his old life. That is, until he finds Tim bleeding in an alley. ✦ World Gone MAD by Havendance, dick & tim & justice league, 5.5k      Ask the GCPD about the Joker’s death, and they’ll tell you he died of natural causes. Ask the Justice League, and they’ll tell you that it’s a matter that’s been resolved internally. Ask Batman and he won’t give you an answer, because he’s Batman. The truth of the matter, however, is this: Dick Grayson beat the Joker to death. ✦ Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by incogneat_oh, dick & tim, ~1k      He’s already halfway up the stairs, towards the window on the second floor landing, when Dick says, “Tim.” He turns back, says wide-eyed and guilty, “Mhm? Can I– I’ll get you a blanket? If you want?” – Or, Tim visits Dick in Bludhaven. ✦ unleash the beast (with a kiss on the cheek) by InkpotSprite, dick & tim & bruce & jason & stephanie, 1.3k      Dick’s chest tightened as his lips parted to say something that he’d truly regret. Before a soft pair of lips pressed against his cheek, then disappeared so quickly that Dick was almost sure he’d imagined it. If it weren’t for Bruce’s fractionally wide eyes, Dick would think he had. Slowly, he turned his head to the side. Tim smiled back at him. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE’S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ cat tactic of healing by CarrionCarnival, tim/kon, 2.1k      Kon finds a moderately sick Tim, and decides that it’s his problem to solve. feline style ✦ In the Corner Taking up Space by Louis_the_Snake, tim/kon & cast, NSFW, 5.1k      Tim gets roped into doing a simple modeling gig for Wayne Fashion with some of his siblings and realizes that everyone he knows is way hotter than he is. And the hottest thing about him is his ass. Which ends up plastered in every major city in the U.S. ✦ Thief by rotasha, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.8k      Kon walks in on Tim wearing his leather jacket. ✦ only touched you once by distracted_dragon, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.8k      Kon decides to tease Tim a little with his TTK. ✦ Missing Words by Violet_Witch, tim/kon & cassie, 6.9k      It takes Tim years to realize what’s always been there. ✦ What’s Real and What Isn’t by JpegDotJpeg, tim/kon & bart, 2.3k      Kon’s eyes almost glow in the dark, a luminescent blue so vivid Tim almost can’t stand looking at them, though he has a harder time trying to look away from them. “I thought you were having a nightmare or something. Your heart was beating so hard it woke me up.” Tim feels himself a flush. He can’t even sleep without bothering someone else. “Oh,” He replies, voice small. “Sorry. I’m fine, you can go back to sleep.” “You’re shaking,” Kon points out and Tim curses internally. ✦ you taught me the courage of stars before you left by popsunner, tim & kon & bruce & damian & lois & jon & cassie & cast, 6k      “He loved you, you know,” She says wistfully, meeting his eyes. Tim looks away. “I loved him too.” “Love.” “What?” “Love,” she repeats. “Not loved. He might be gone, but we don’t love him any less.“ BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Arguments with the Recently Deceased by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce & clark & tim & cast, 7.9k      Dick just got back from a lousy, week-long adventure traveling in time. When his ride drops him off at the cave the morning after he left, Dick isn’t expecting to find Bruce in the middle of a complete meltdown. Dick realizes there’s been a mistake- Dick hasn’t been gone six hours, he’s been gone six months, and everyone thinks he’s dead. ✦ Solar Flares by glassofwater, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 46.1k wip      Personhood, noun: the quality or condition of being an individual person. Son, noun: a man regarded as the product of a particular person, influence, or environment. Dick Grayson, noun: oldest son of Bruce Wayne, first son of Batman (i.e., a sum of parts, not a whole) ✦ Starlings in Winter by FromStarstuff, dick & bruce & clark & alfred & cast, 14.3k wip      When Dick was eleven years old he ran away from Gotham. No one could quite figure out why. Take your pick; there was a fight at school, a circus in town, and a song he can’t remember the melody of. Eleven-year-old Dick Grayson was flooded with grief, swimming in it, perpetually drowning. One day it was too much. ✦ Going Nuclear by wrsttballplayer, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & steph & alfred, time travel, 15.3k wip      Dick looked at his younger self; the way his brow twisted up in so much anger and his was chest heaving with pure vitriol. Dick remembered what fury like that felt like. He remembered the way it burnt in his throat. He used to spew that poison at Bruce all the time, hell even the Titans had gotten the bad end of his temper more than once. And yet, Dick couldn’t place the last time he had been mad like that. Nowadays, all his anger died into withering flames of resignation and compromise more often than not. ✦ Why Is Tim the Only One With Any Tact? by CamsthiSky, dick & tim & wally, 4.1k      In which Tim tries to mediate an argument between Dick and Wally. Things don’t go so well. ✦ You Won’t Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 5.2k      Dick’s captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again. ✦ Hold Me Dear and Close to Your Heart by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & cast, 3.8k      Dick Grayson leaves his whole life behind when Bruce Wayne kicks him out. ✦ the flute of your whole existence by LovesFrogs, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred, 4.2k     He could voice his greatest fears, weaknesses, or most secret dreams at the drop of a hat; all the things he’s never put into words before and keeps tucked close between his ribs. What kind of ammunition is his son going to ask for? What will he make Bruce admit, knowing he is incapable of a lie? ✦ The Kids Are(n’t?) Alright by avengemyheart, dick & bruce & tim & alfred & cast, rape aftermath, 3k      Dick saves a young rape victim from his babysitter and in the process reveals his own trauma. The problem? Dick is Batman at the time, and kids are blabber mouths. ✦ Cursed Silence by TheSilencer, dick & bruce & jason & tim & steph & cast, 3.4k      Dick Grayson is given a gift - to seal away his emotions. No one has a good time. ✦ Peeking Through the Tunnel Beyond by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & cast, read the tags, 2.4k      Or, Dick Grayson just can’t seem to free himself from his past. And this time, Bruce is there. ✦ soft clocks by dustorange, dick & bruce & damian & jason & tim & alfred & tiger & cast, 35.2k      Dick has amnesia during his time at Spyral. The family grapples with finding out he’s alive. Dick grapples with finding out he has a family. ✦ Never Say That by JackHawksmoor, bruce & dick & jason & damian & cast, 9.6k      "Calm down, I’m not aiming for anything vital,” Jason said irritably. Batman turned away from the man he’d just floored. “We agreed-” he began sharply. “I didn’t promise anything,” Jason snapped. He lifted his gun, muttering under his breath. “You ought to be grateful, it could be worse-” Or: the Bats have an extremely bad night in Gotham City BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO TAKE ALL THE SERIOUSNESS OUT OF THE ROOM AND STAY SILLY FOR AWHILE: ✦ there but for the grace of god by TheResurrectionist, hal & dinah & ollie & flash & j'onn & bat-kids & young justice & justice league, 3.7k      A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who’s the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points. ✦ The One With The Bat’s Son by Maximum_Quinn, bruce & dick & wally & hal & billy, 3.4k      “Batman has seven kids.” Wally blinked. “You’re shitting me.” “Not even a little, I just overheard him and Supes talking.” “Oh my god,” he breathed, staring at Hal incredulously. “You don’t think -?” Hal nodded, slowly and seriously. “Batman could be Captain Marvel’s dad.”

[wheresarizona]

Bluebonnet

summary: Is Joel Miller your friend? No. You’re not even sure if he actually likes you or just puts up with you because of his kid. Then he kicks some guy's ass in a bar for getting handsy with you, and you’re starting to think maybe he might like you a little…

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Grumpy Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Soft Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified but reader was born before the outbreak), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f + m receiving), 69 position, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, slight breeding kink, Joel has a big dick, Joel being kinda a dick, a random guy harassing you then getting beat up by Joel, canon typical violence, icing Joel’s knuckles, feelings confessions, Ellie being Ellie and the star of the show, AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and their relationship is still good)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

word count: 5.5k+

a/n: Literally, a scene in this woke me up from dead sleep at five in the goddamn morning, and I spent thirty minutes plotting the whole one shot while barely awake. This fic was very spur of the moment that I wrote in less than two days, so it’s unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own. Please be horny about Joel protecting you with me.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Is Joel Miller your friend? 

No. 

Are you on friendly terms?

You thought so. 

Joel isn’t the most social of fellas—he’s basically a feral cat that wants to be left alone.

If you aren’t friends with him, then how did you become the regular occupant of the seat across from his in the Jackson mess hall every breakfast and dinner? 

The answer is simple: Ellie. 

It all started months ago when you first got to Jackson and met the teen after being assigned to a job rotation with her. She was so excited about finding out you lived in Texas for many years before the world went to hell she invited you to eat dinner with her so you could meet someone, and that’s how you were introduced to Austin-native Joel Miller. 

He’s a bit older than you, never smiles, and isn’t much of a talker but still polite enough to answer a question if you ask it, even if it’s more of a grumble at the start of the day. With Ellie, though, it was different. He talked to her, and his voice was like coming home after a long day and settling in on the couch—that familiar Texan accent making you feel all warm and comfy, his words wrapping around you like a tight blanket and taking you back to a time when things were good and safe. 

The morning after the first dinner, Ellie had called you over to sit with them for breakfast, and again that evening, little bits of conversation happening between bites as you got a grasp on what the relationship was between this young girl and man—it was clearly father-daughter in nature even if she didn’t call him ‘dad,’ and you savored every word she wheedled out of him. 

It got to the point where the teenager didn’t have to beckon you over, and you just knew to set your food down in the seat in front of Joel to eat with them, always smiling at Ellie giving him so much shit, chatting with them or more the young girl, with Joel occasionally offering clipped anecdotes, and you trying not to acknowledge his handsomeness—you weren’t sure if he even liked you or if he was just putting up with you for the sake of his kid.  

He does have a lovely voice and is very attractive with those expressive chocolate-colored eyes that sometimes soften when he looks at his daughter; you could imagine his grey hair would be soft to the touch, and it’s obvious those full lips of his are kissable. Honestly, it’s surprising he’s not seeing anyone that you know of or Ellie is aware of, with how damn pretty he is.

His broad shoulders and how his flannels stretch over his chest. 

His neck. 

God, he’s sure nice to look at. 

And Ellie is a great kid who trusted you, coming to you anytime she needed advice or wanted to talk about something, and you were happy to be there for her. 

The breakfast and dinner routine had been going on for so long that even though Joel didn’t talk at length to you, you’d managed to learn quite a bit about him from questions he’d answer or conversations he had with his kid or brother in front of you. He definitely knew a lot about you, too. 

Now, back to why you’re not sure if he likes you. 

That morning when you went to breakfast, you were running on autopilot—piled your plate with food, grabbed your cup of shitty coffee that made you want to cry with how much you missed Starbucks, and set it all down in your usual spot, where you started to eat. 

When your brain finally began working, that’s when you realized it was abnormally quiet at your table, and you looked up to realize Ellie wasn’t there—it was just Joel. He must have seen some kind of look on your face since he grumbled out she was with a friend. Then when you asked if he wanted you to sit somewhere else, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he told you no before going back to eating in silence.

That put a point in the maybe he wasn’t just putting up with you for the sake of his daughter column and made you smile a little the rest of the meal.  

She wasn’t at dinner either.

This had you standing near your seat, chewing on your lip, debating on sitting elsewhere until Joel sighed loudly, setting down his fork to tell you in a tone that brokered no room for argument to sit, so you did. 

After a few bites, you almost choked to death when he asked how your day was. 

There was actual back and forth between just the two of you, and you were in heaven at how much he was speaking, another point going toward he might like you. 

Those interactions had you feeling really hopeful, and you were excited for breakfast the next day, wondering if he’d try to talk to you more. 

It’s been over half a year since you arrived in town, and you have managed to make some friends, who you knew for sure were your friends, and also closer to your age. When a couple of them asked if you wanted to get a drink that night and play some pool, you happily agreed. 

The place is practically empty when you arrive. 

Standing at the bar, chatting with your friend Mathias as you wait for the bartender to make your drinks, you can feel someone staring at you. Doing a quick glance of the room has your stomach dropping and is the reason you’re pretty fucking sure Joel doesn’t care for you; he’s sitting across the room at a table in the corner, glaring at you—not just glaring, if looks could kill you’d be deader than dead he looks so pissed off, and you’re about to go find out what his problem is when two things happen:

Mathias excuses himself to the restroom, and some man you’ve never seen, let alone spoken to, gets your attention on your other side. 

“Hey.” The interloper squeezes your arm, which makes your head turn toward him, shaking him off.

“Don’t touch me,” you reply. 

There’s nothing special about the guy—he’s probably younger than you, has floppy blonde hair, and a clean-shaven face, but something in his eyes made you feel uneasy. 

“My apologies,” he says, putting up his hands placatingly. “This is my first night here, and I’m just trying to make a new friend. Have a drink with me.” 

“Welcome to Jackson, and no, thank you, I’m here with friends.” 

“I’m sure they won’t mind if you have one drink with me.” His voice goes lower, “We could have some real fun together.” He has the audacity to grab your ass, and you step out of his reach. 

“I said don’t fucking touch me.” 

The bartender has gone into the back, Mathias is nowhere in sight, and your other friend is in another room where the pool table is with the jukebox playing. 

Something flashes in his eyes, and it has your heart pounding. 

“Don’t be like that. Just one drink,” he says, coming closer. 

You are readying to fight the bastard when all of a sudden, someone is grabbing his collar, and you see a fist connect with his face in a sickening crunch that makes you gasp. 

Joel yanks the guy in front of him. 

“She said not to fuckin’ touch her,” he grits through his teeth. “And that she didn’t wanna have a drink with you.” 

“I’m sorry,” the other man wheezes, blood oozing from his clearly broken nose. “I’ll leave.” 

“Yes, you fuckin’ will—after I teach you some fuckin’ manners.” 

With that, he punches him again and again and again.

You’re no damsel in distress—you’ve survived the fucking apocalypse for the last twenty years practically alone and could easily fight your way out of dangerous situations. But having someone stand up for you and protect you? It’s really doing it for you, except you’re genuinely worried Joel will murder this man, so you move toward him. 

“Stop, Joel!” you shout, pushing on his shoulder, and he does immediately, his eyes meeting yours. “He’ll leave; toss him out. Please, Joel. Don’t kill him.” 

His chest rises and falls as he pants, nodding his head once before hauling the groaning man to the door and throwing him out. The bartender chose that moment to come back, as well as your friend. 

There was a worried expression on Mathias’ face. “Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer. The drinks are sitting on the bartop, and you gesture toward them. “I’ve got something to do, so take those for me, okay?” 

Confusion is etched on his brow. “Okay…?” He strategically picks up the three glasses and heads for the other room with the pool table. 

Your attention moves to the man behind the bar. “Hey, can I get some ice in a rag?” 

“Sure thing,” he replies, going to the block and using the ice pick. 

Joel didn’t return to you. Instead, he went back to his table like the last however many minutes didn’t happen, and it makes you sigh. 

His mixed signals have you so confused you’re ready to just get it all out in the open. 

The bartender hands you some ice wrapped in a towel, and you walk over to Joel, having to drag the seat across from his around so you’re next to him, seeing his right hand shaking around his glass with bloodied knuckles. 

He won’t even look at you. 

“Give me your hand,” you order him. 

“I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not. Give me your fucking hand.” 

“No.” 

“Stop being a stubborn asshole, and let me ice your fucking knuckles.”

“I said I’m fine.” 

He won’t give you his hand, so you do the next best thing and press the ice against them while they hold his drink, Joel hissing at the coldness. 

His head turns to glare at you. 

“Don’t give me that look.” You glare right back. “I’m helping you.” 

“I don’t need your help,” he practically spits out. 

Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for what you’re going to say. 

“We had a nice dinner,” you tell him. 

His eyebrows furrow. 

“What?” 

“We had a nice dinner with just the two of us where we talked—you didn’t smile, but it was the most you’ve ever said to me, and this morning, you let me eat with you. You’re not a people person, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me all that much, but our meals today made me think you might. Then tonight you were glaring at me—”

“When was I glarin’ at you?” he interrupts. 

“Before that creep started getting handsy.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t lookin’ at you…” His eyes dart away. 

You’re confused. 

“There’s like no one here. Who were you looking at?” 

He sighs loudly. “Your boyfriend,” he mumbles. 

“Huh?” 

“Your boyfriend—the guy you’re here with.” 

“Oh, Mathias? I’m not his type, and he’s already in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or a partner—I’m not seeing anyone. You should know this.” 

“Oh.” 

“Okay, so you weren’t glaring at me, you were glaring at my non-existent boyfriend, and then you came in hot like some knight in shining armor and beat the shit out of that asshole for doing me wrong. Sooo, you maybe like me?” 

He looked at you with a squinted gaze, like the answer was obvious. 

“I more than maybe like you,” he replies. 

That has your eyes widening. 

“Wait, in the romantic or platonic sense?” 

“There’s no point in talkin’ about this,” he sighs, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup. 

“Um, yes, there is because if I have a shot at breaking off a piece of this Kit Kat bar, I’d like to take it.” 

His gaze met yours, and you could see the hope swirling in the dark pools. 

“In the, uh, romantic or platonic sense?” 

Smiling, you answer, “Romantic—I’ve basically been crushing on you since I met you. We’ve known each other for months, almost a year. You’re such a good father to Ellie, a hard worker around town, and you let some random person sit with you during your meals—”

It takes your breath away when he smiles softly and talks when you pause, “You’re not some random person, and I would’ve been stupid to turn away such a beautiful woman.” 

“Oh, god, you’re hot and charming.” He chuckles, and your heart picks up in pace. “How are you making me like you more?” 

“I don’t know, Blue.” 

“Blue?” 

“As in Bluebonnet.” 

Which was Texas’ state flower and makes you feel so soft at how sweet the nickname is. 

“I love it.” 

The smile falls from his face. 

“You, uh, don’t mind my age?” He scratches at his mustache. 

Ellie had made you very aware of how old Joel was. 

“No? I think you’re extremely attractive. Does the age difference bother you?” 

“No.” He shakes his head. 

“What now?” you ask. 

“Jesus, it’s been so fuckin’ long,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess I’ll court you—take you on a proper date.” 

“Second option, that’s more immediate, and we can go with your plan tomorrow.” 

He looks at you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Is Ellie home tonight?” 

His eyebrows dip together. 

“Yeah?” 

Smirking, you say, “Okay, so why don’t we go back to my place, and I properly thank you for what you did tonight.” 

You see his throat bob as he swallows, his voice going deeper when he asks, “How do you wanna thank me?” 

A smile pulls up on your lips, moving forward to whisper in his good ear, “I was thinking I’d suck your dick.” His breath stutters. “Then have you fuck me however you want.” That makes him groan, and you grin. 

His hand moves out from under the ice and up to cradle your face, along with the other, when his body turns, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was stupid for leavin’ you alone ‘cause I assumed you wouldn’t want anythin’ to do with someone as old as me.” 

You snort. “Uh, yeah. You went a little hard with the leaving me alone, but I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.” 

No other words are said. His mouth crushes against yours, swallowing your surprised sound as he kisses you hard. Your fingers end up tangling in his grey waves of hair, your heart hammering in your chest and pulsing at the apex of your thighs. It’s obvious he hasn’t kissed in a while, and you’re in the same boat, both of you figuring things out until there’s a rhythm, and things are heating up with a slip of your tongue into his mouth to slide along his. The need inside you builds and builds until your lungs start to ache for oxygen, and you break apart, his nose nuzzling yours as you both pant with a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s go,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice.  

He washed his hands before you left the bar, so it wasn’t obvious he’d just been in a fight. 

Having Joel lead you through town is like having a big, scary dog on a leash with how people get out of his way. It’s a little surprising he even knows where you live when you find yourself walking through your front gate. 

“How—”

“Ellie,” he answers before you even ask the question, his feet stomping up the two porch steps and you following. “She’s free to hang out with whoever and go wherever. I just ask she tells me where she’ll be.” 

“That’s very ‘cool dad’ of you.” 

You’re standing at the front door, him out of your way. 

“She’s not allowed to leave Jackson without me. If I tell her to stay away from someone, she stays away from them. I expect her to be a model citizen and do the jobs she’s required to do. Unless we talked beforehand, she must be home in time for breakfast and dinner.” 

“So, today, you knew it’d just be the two of us?” 

“She asked last night to stay at Cat’s house.” That��s Ellie’s best friend. “They’re staying over at our place tonight.” 

“Probably won’t even notice you’re missing then,” you say with a smile. The door’s unlocked, and you push it open before turning to grab Joel by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss as he walks you backward into the house with his arms wrapping around your back. 

It’s a tangle of tongues, a clash of teeth, one of Joel’s hands moving to massage your breast while your fingers worked open the buttons on his shirt, him shrugging it off by the time you make it to your bedroom door you led him to. Once inside, he strips you first, spending quite a bit of time licking and sucking on your tits when they’re bared and stopping you when you try to work open his pants, learning he’s really fucking strong when he easily tosses you onto the middle of the bed. 

Quickly, you’re sitting up on your knees, and you get a good look at the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans; Joel standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at your body with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Scars are littering the golden expanse of skin on his front and arms of varying sizes, a newer one you spot on his lower torso, all of them telling you he’s fought like hell to make it to this point. 

Shuffling forward, you’re tired of waiting, your hands going to the button on the front of his pants. Joel’s palm engulfs yours to stop you, his head tilting down to meet your confused eyes. 

“You don’t need to suck my dick for what I did,” he says. 

“Okay. What if I just want to suck your dick for the hell of it?”

His lips tip up in a crooked smile, and you’re enjoying seeing his different smiles. 

“Then have at it, but I wanna lick your pussy until you come on my tongue.” 

You suck in a breath, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. 

“If you can get me off with your mouth, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.” 

His eyebrow arches. “Is that so?” 

“Yeah. You’ll be stuck with me.” 

There’d been enough talking, so you deftly popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, grabbing the waistband to tug his jeans down his thighs. You’re pleasantly surprised he goes commando, and then you get a good look at his hard cock, and it’s glorious. 

He’s thick, long, with a nice curve upwards, and you’re wondering if you’ll be able to fit him in your mouth—you’re definitely up for the challenge, licking your lips at the thought. Your fingers don’t even wrap all the way around him when you take him in hand, giving him a few quick strokes. 

“Wait,” he says, stopping your movements. 

“What?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Hold on,” is all he replies, getting his pants the rest of the way down, kicking them off, and removing his socks. Walking around the side of your queen size bed, you’re turning in place to follow his movements as he gets on the mattress with a groan and the springs squeaking as he moves to the middle, his legs on either side of you, grabbing one of your pillows to put under his head that he lifts to look at you. “Sit on my face.” It’s an order, and he pats his chest to show you he means it. 

“I thought I was giving you a blow job…?” You point at his dick resting against his stomach. 

“You are,” he replies. “We’re doin’ both. Now, get up here,” he orders again, his face grumpy, patting his chest once more. 

“Sheesh,” you say, moving over his leg and up the bed, thankful you showered before you went out. “You’re really bossy when you’re horny.” 

When you’re within reach, he replies, “I’ll show you fuckin’ bossy,” and he puts his strength to work again, grunting while hauling you onto him with your back to his head and legs along his sides. His hand lands on the side of your ass in a sharp slap that makes you gasp, feeling the wetness between your legs, coating your inner thighs. “I’m eatin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he says, positioning you over his face, his hand giving your asscheek another hard spank causing you to clench. “And you’re gonna wrap that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth around my cock.”

You can’t respond because all train of thought leaves your brain when his mouth latches onto your cunt, feeling him groan into your sensitive skin, the sensations making your toes curl, and fire erupt in your center. 

“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan. “It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.” 

It takes a deep breath for you to focus on your task, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard dick in your palm, the tip red and shiny with his arousal, lowering your face to take him into your mouth. He’s salty on your tongue, your jaw open as wide as it will go as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, stroking the considerable amount that won’t fit. 

His hands have a firm grip on your hips, pulling you farther down on his face, and you’re really worried he’s going to suffocate while he eats you out like a man starving. Pleasure in winding in your belly, tighter and tighter, with how he’s licking at your folds, your eyes rolling back in your head when he sucks your sensitive little clit between his lips.

He’s really going to make you come, and it feels so fucking good you’re having a hard time sucking his cock, so lost in what he’s doing to you—saliva is dripping out of your mouth and down his shaft, making your hand slide easily along him while you have half a mind to suckle on the head of him. 

You hit your breaking point suddenly, the coil inside you snapping, your body tensing up as you come with a loud moan, euphoria spreading out from your core. Joel groans into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside your sopping entrance to taste your release straight from the source, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing hard.  

He must get his fill because he moves you off his face, hearing him take a deep breath. 

“My good fuckin’ girl,” he says through panted breaths, rubbing your hips, his words causing a shiver to move down your spine. “Am I stuck with you?” 

You’d given up on blowing him, your forehead resting against his thigh. 

“Yeah,” you slur, sounding drunk. “How are you single?” It’s been a while since you’ve had that good of an orgasm. 

He sighs and taps your hip. “Turn around, baby.” 

Doing your best to turn, Joel helps you, getting you to straddle over his lower torso, your hands finding their place on his warm, flushed chest, seeing the grey hairs of his beard shining with your arousal and his lips frowning. 

“Like you said earlier,” he says. “I’m not a people person.” 

Your eyebrows knit together. 

“I’m people…” 

“No, you’re not. You’re my Texas Bluebonnet—my Blue.” His large palm comes up to stroke your cheek. 

You’re wondering something. “Why did you talk to me at dinner?” 

A sheepish look comes over his face. “‘Cause we were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about Ellie teasin’ me in front of you about my crush.” 

“She knows?”

He grimaces. “Suspects. Since there’s only three people on this godforsaken planet I like, and you’re one of them.” 

“And I’m the only one who’s not family—oh, that’s obvious.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Well, how do you want me?” 

He looks confused. “Huh?” 

“I said you can fuck me however you want,” you answer, sliding your hands up his pecs. “How do you want me, babe?” 

When he smiles this time, you get a glimpse of his teeth. “Ride me.”

His answer has you grinning. “Cowgirl, like a true Texan.” 

“I just love your tits,” he says, his big hands palming them. 

“Good to know,” you reply with a wink. 

Sitting up on your knees, you scoot back to get over his hips. His dick is still wet with your spit when you grab it and slide it through your folds before positioning him at your entrance. 

There are nerves swirling in your belly, your eyes landing on his dark ones as you slowly start to drop down, seeing his mouth fall open with a gasp, his hands grabbing onto your thighs. You knew there’d be a stretch, but he’s bordering on uncomfortable in how your walls have to expand for his size, feeling the slight burn. When you finally bottom out, you’re beyond full—you’ve never felt fuller, and it takes your breath away. 

“Jesus Christ,” his words are said through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move.”

His hard cock is throbbing inside you. 

“Been a while?” 

“Yeah.”

“Same. You’re so fucking big I’m gonna be sore after this.”

His dick jerks as he groans, “Don’t say that.”  

“Damn, you’re that close?” you ask, soothingly stroking your hands over his chest. 

You watch as his eyes blink open, the grumpy expression you’re used to appearing on his face. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” He slaps your ass. “I haven’t fucked in a long time, and now I’m inside the perfect pussy—you’d be strugglin’ too if you were me.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Joel.” You lean forward to cup his cheek, feeling prickling stubble under your palm. “I think it’s hot. Like, you have no idea how flattered I’d be if I made you come right away—talk about an ego boost.”

He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing.  

“Are you just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”

“Nope.” To prove your point, you sit up, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest as you start circling your hips. 

His mouth goes slack, his eyes widening, a choked noise pulling from his throat that makes you smirk. “Fuck,” he pants. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks a rosy pink. “You fit me like a fuckin’ glove.” 

You’re slowly building into an up-and-down motion, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing against spots you didn’t know existed, sparks of pleasure igniting in your center as you throw your head back. 

He must get a hold of himself because both of his hands come down on each of your asscheeks in loud, resounding smacks before he’s gripping them to help you move. 

Looking down at him, there’s concentration on his brow. 

“Your tight little pussy is takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he says, hearing the wet sounds where you’re joined. “You love how I stretch you open?” 

“Yes,” you moan. 

You’re moving a little faster, moving up, and falling down a little harder, making the fire in your belly get hotter and hotter. 

“Lean down.” 

Doing as he says, your hands are on either side of his head while he continues helping you ride him. He lifts his face to pull a pebbled nipple between his lips, and the pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you gasp and more arousal spill around his length. 

He laves at one bud, then the other as you work yourself up, the new angle allowing the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub deliciously against your clit, and you know you’re close.

Joel is groaning loudly, clearly in heaven, with his dick inside you and his mouth on your tits. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he says around your hard nipple. “You gonna let me feel you squeeze my dick? Let me fuckin’ have it. Be a good fuckin’ girl and give it to me.” 

It’s all too much, everything coming to a head as you fall over the edge with a cry of his name, clenching so hard around him, you’ve stopped moving with his cock buried to the root, pleasure radiating through your body. 

Joel’s breathing hard under you, and you don’t sound any better while you come down from your high. 

His arms suddenly hug you close to him, and you squeak in surprise when he flips you onto your back with his dick still inside you and his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs. Lips find yours in a searing kiss, moaning as you taste yourself, welcoming his tongue when it slips into your mouth to tangle with your own. 

He starts moving to chase his high, his thrusts hard and fast. 

The bedsprings are squeaking loudly, the headboard banging into the wall, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his cock and your muffled moans paired with his muffled groans. There’s no mistaking what’s happening in this bedroom, and you just hope your neighbors don’t complain in the morning. 

Your fingers have threaded into his hair, your bodies sweaty, his lips leave yours, opening your eyes to see his face screwed up like he’s in pain. 

“Where do you want it?” he grits out. 

If he’s asking, then he knows the risk. 

“Inside.” 

He opens his eyes wide. “Are you sure?” 

It is a rare thing to want these days. 

“Yes.” 

His pace speeds up, grunting as he pistons into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths. 

“You can fuckin’ have it,” he grunts. “Fuck you full of me—milk me fuckin’ dry. Fuck, you’re perfect.” 

You know he’s close when his thrusts get jerky, then he’s pushing in hard one last time with a guttural groan, feeling the hot spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to roll until they finally come to a complete stop. It’s obvious he’s wrung out with how he practically collapses on top of you, but you welcome the weight, pushing your fingers into his hair and scratching at his scalp, which receives appreciative hums. 

Minutes pass that neither of you speaks. 

“‘M sorry,” the words are murmured into your neck. 

“For what?” you softly ask.

“Makin’ you think I didn’t like you.” 

“It’s kinda my fault, too. I mean, I am aware you don’t like people but you’ve eaten two meals a day with me for almost a year, so obviously you must like me somewhat.” 

His head comes up with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning. 

“I like you more than somewhat.” 

You smile. His hair is a mess, and you go about combing your fingers through it as you say, “Yes, I know that now. You like me.” 

“I do.” 

“And I like you.” 

“Good.” 

“I said you’re stuck with me, so can this be more than a one-time thing?” 

His eyes squint in that same way where he thinks something is obvious. 

“What?" he says. "I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere. You’re mine—my Blue.” 

“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine, too.” 

He kisses you passionately, and you lose yourself in it for a second until a thought has your eyes flying open and you pushing his face away. 

“What?” he asks, bewildered. 

“How are you going to tell Ellie?” 

“Shit. Uh, we can sit her down tomorrow night—”

“No, this is a conversation you need to have with her alone.” 

He winces. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow night after dinner...” 

Is Joel Miller your boyfriend? 

He absolutely hates you giving him that label, grumbling he prefers partner, but yes, he is your boyfriend. 

Did Joel sneak out of your house in the early morning hours to his own so Ellie wouldn’t know he was gone all night?

Also, yes. 

It’s the morning after, and you’re trying to act normal, ignoring how nervous you feel and the soreness between your legs as you sit down in your usual spot in front of Joel with your plate of breakfast. He’s changed into clean clothes and looks like he hasn’t slept, sipping on one of the two cups of shitty coffee in front of him, Ellie next to him already digging into some oatmeal with her spoon, which makes you realize—

“Ah, fuck,” you say, both of them looking at you. “I forgot to grab a fork.” 

“I’ll get you one, baby,” Joel says as he sets his coffee down and starts to get up.

The three of you go completely still. Your eyes are wide, Joel’s close in regret, his cheeks turning pink, and Ellie looks like she’s going to explode with excitement until—

“You guys FUCKED!” she shouts. 

People around the mess hall turn to stare. 

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, his head whipping toward her. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she says in a quieter voice, the rest of the room returning to eating. “I knew it! It’s about fucking time! So when are you getting married?” She’s looking between the two of you. “You know, I’ve always wanted a mom! And a brother! I’ll settle for a sister, though. Is she moving in with us, Joel?” She’s staring at him expectantly with a grin. 

Joel’s face is bright red. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ fork,” he grumbles as he gets up from his seat. 

Masterlist

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[augustinewrites]

you should absolutely add naoya to the story!!!! i would LOVE some drama between gojo and that loserrrr i just know they hate each other so MUCH

useful context for this fic can be found in three conditions!

"'salt to taste,'" satoru reads, already confused. "what the hell does that even mean?"

tuesdays are always his day to cook dinner - meaning the second you smell something burning, you kick him out of the kitchen to take over - but you'd left about left twenty minutes ago to pick the kids up from karate, so he's on his own.

shrugging, he pours a questionable amount of salt into the bowl of vegetables he's been attempting to season.

after tossing in the rest of the spices, the next step is to cook over medium-high heat. so he flicks the stove on, leaning against the counter as he waits for the pan to heat up.

that's when a knock sounds at the door.

he doesn't move, hoping whoever it is just gives up and goes away. he wasn't expecting any guests, and the backup food he'd ordered shouldn't be arriving for another half hour.

but whoever it is bangs on the door this time, clearly impatient and wanting to get on his nerves.

huffing, he flicks the stove off and stomps to the door, yanking it open.

"you've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"still as uncouth as ever, i see," naoya zenin scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"and you're still as ugly as i remember," he fires back. "no wait— uglier."

that gets the reaction satoru's hoping for, naoya scowling as he says. "seems the rumours are true. my dear relative's run away to become a gojo whore."

satoru barely manages to keep his hands off the blond's throat, because killing him would start an all out war with the zen'ins, and he isn't ready to make waves (yet).

it wouldn't take much force to just put his head through the wall, would it?

"just tell me what you want so i can say no," he says instead, voice fighting to remain steady.

god, he hates the smug look on his face as he asks, "how much do you want?"

"excuse me?"

"how much do you want," he repeats slowly, as if he were talking to a particularly stupid animal. "for her. and the fushiguro boy."

it takes satoru a moment to realize what exactly he's asking for, the request so outlandish that he can hardly believe it. "how much do i— you're insane."

he goes to slam the door, but naoya is quick to catch it.

"it's only right that they should be with their family, don't you think?"

"and that's you?"

"if we're being sentimental about it, yes."

"well, they're not for sale," he says firmly, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket. every molecule of restraint is quickly leaving his body. "nor will they ever be. now leave."

stupid as he is, naoya senses the thinly veiled threat and turns on his heel, satoru keeping his eyes trained on him until he disappears down the hall.

_____

"naoya stopped by."

"what did he want?" you ask, lips already pulled down into a frown as you take another dish to dry.

"you and megumi."

"of course he does," you sigh, setting the plate aside and resting your palms on the counter "they want ten shadows."

"what are we going to do?" he asks seriously. "what if next time they don't ask?"

"there's not much we can do right now," you tell him grimly. "it’s the zen’in clan, satoru. we just need to keep our heads down and focus on getting megumi into jujutsu tech. at least he won't be so vulnerable with all of us around—”

“hey, hey,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “i’m not going to let anything happen to you both. you know that, right?”

“i know,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose. “that’s why i’m not suggesting we’ve halfway across the world.”

“that’s not a bad idea. we could move somewhere hot and tropical. i’d get to see you in a swimsuit almost everyday…”

“you’d get sunburnt,” you correct, laughing as he nudges his face into the crook of your neck.

“i’d happily let myself get sunburnt if it meant you were safe,” he murmurs into your skin. “the kids would probably eviscerate me if i let anything happen to you.”

“of course they would. they’d starve otherwise.”

[myosotisa]

something good - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖  summary: Eddie is drifting through town when he starts offering guitar lessons at night after work to make some extra cash. You are one of the first people to call, saying you want to learn how to play.

‖  tags: hurt/comfort, cheating/infidelity, domestic violence (not described, but visible bruising is discussed), strangers to lovers, fluffy and cute. no y/n. no pronouns, but reader is referred to as a woman and a bride. based on the song I Wanna Learn a Love Song by Harry Chapin (yeah like the 3 other fics i have that mention this song shut uP). happy ending.

‖  word count: 4.1k ‖  read on AO3 ‖ the song ‖

When you get here, come around to the garden door, through the fence on the left side of the house. Please don’t knock on the front door.

With a battered six string slung over his shoulder, in ripped jeans and a band tee, Eddie was absolutely positive that it looked like he was trying to break into this house. That, from an outside perspective, he was a dirty, homeless guy – nervously looking around before pushing into a stranger’s backyard.

A pretty little blue house in a cul de sac with a fancy car out front and the lawn manicured just so. He walked under a trellis with woven vines and white flowers, little stones marking a path in the lawn, and toward the baby blue screen door.

His second day clothes and the pinch in his neck from sleeping in the van had never felt more apparent than they did right now.

After several minutes of contemplating if this was really something he had to do, he hit his knuckles on the aluminum frame of the door and waited. Heard the loud bellowing laugh of a man, and then another, followed by the click of a heavy door shutting, muffling the noise.

The screen door opened with a creak and there was you – with a smile that made him think maybe the sun wasn’t setting just yet.

“You’re Eddie, right?” You asked, leaning on the door as you looked him over. And he expected judgment, maybe disapproval. But you just kept smiling, like he was an old friend coming home after a long time away.

“Yup, that’s me,” he replied as he rocked back on his heels awkwardly, dipping his head in a greeting. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he realized that he hadn’t even tried to remember your name from when you called him earlier this week. “And you are…?”

If you were offended by it, you didn’t show it. Just gave him your first name and invited him onto the porch. Offered him a drink and asked him if he found the place okay. Pleasantries. Politeness.

Autopilot.

He took a seat at the white metal table on the screened-in porch, standing out starkly in his black and denim, and nervously tapped his hands against his knees. You sat down on the chair beside him, dressed in a comfortable sweater and a pair of pants that looked more expensive than his guitar. Casual but put together.

The porch was spotless and there was a hint of jasmine on the breeze. Eddie could not shake the feeling that he did not belong here.

“I guess I want to start off by saying this would be a very temporary arrangement, if you decide you want to keep getting lessons after this one,” he said, wanting to get that settled immediately. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be in town.”

Surprised and intrigued, you learned a bit closer toward him. “Oh! That’s alright. Are you not from around here?”

“No, not really,” he muttered, setting the guitar on the table in front of you. Not particularly interested in getting to know you better, he started off with the easy stuff. “So do you know how to play at all?”

You shook your head with a bashful smile, tucking your hands beneath your thighs. “Not a chord.”

He shrugged, like that wasn’t a big deal. “That’s fine. Are you hoping to learn all the chords and stuff?”

“Oh, no. I’d really just like to learn a couple songs. Is that okay?” You asked it like you were afraid of inconveniencing him. You were paying him for a lesson – who the hell was he to tell you no.

“Sure, that works. Do you have your own guitar? Or are we sharing mine?”

Your smile dropped a bit then, like he’d touched a nerve. “No, not yet. My husband wants to make sure this isn’t just another ‘passing fancy’ before he lets me buy one.” And you laughed it off, shaking your head with a good natured shrug.

“Huh. Okay, no problem. We can take turns – I’ll show you and then you can try.” You nodded eagerly, shifting further up in your seat. “Any songs in particular you were thinking of?”

“Oh, well… I’d really like to learn a love song. Something happy. Something people would want to sing along to.”

The look he gave you in response was strange, almost like disbelief. Being a pessimist by experience, you seemed like everything he loathed. But there was something else, something good. Something that made the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smile against his will.

“A love song, huh? I think we can manage one or two.”

Every week at the same time, Eddie would pass through your garden and knock on the blue screen door. Every week, you closed the door separating your husband’s poker game from the porch and greeted him with the warmest smile he had seen since the last time.

He’d teach you a couple of chords, how to strum along the strings. Tried to be as respectful as possible and keep his distance. You were a married woman after all, he could see the shine from the multi-karat diamond on your finger when you shifted into the positions on the neck.

Little by little, you coaxed more info out of Eddie. He worked as a mechanic during the day and did these guitar lessons at night. He was saving up money to get out of town and would only be giving lessons until he felt like he had enough. He didn’t like staying in one place for too long. You were around the same age, only a couple years off. He had always wanted to be a musician – but it had never worked out for him.

After an hour or two, you’d announce that it was about time for him to go and slide him some cash. Double and triple checking that he’d be back next week; that he wasn’t leaving yet.

And every week, he promised he’d be back.

“A musician, huh? I guess that makes sense.” You replied, eyes trained on the way his fingers manipulated the strings on the acoustic. To learn, of course, no other reason. “Just guitar?”

“I sing a little too, but was always better at playing.”

You sat up a bit too straight, leaned a bit too far forward, looked a little too excited. “Will you sing something for me? I’d love to hear it.”

And, lately, he was having a lot of trouble saying no to you. “Are you sure? Seems like a waste of your lesson time.”

“I don’t think it will be. Play and sing something for me. Please?”

And so he did. Because he couldn’t quite find it in himself to say no.

And it happened again. And again.

Half the time, he wasn’t even teaching you to play anymore. The two of you would talk, and he would play, and you both would sing quietly on your porch as the sun set and night fell. Until it was time for him to leave again.

Neither of you talked about it. But it was the best part of both your weeks. Something to look forward to.

You reappeared 10 minutes later, looking a bit like a kicked puppy. The door hadn’t fully shut behind you as you stepped out, your hands wringing in front of you. “I think you better go. I forgot to take care of something and Henry…” You trailed off, shaking your head as you offered him an embarrassed smile. “Sorry to cut the lesson short.”

One week, you were interrupted by a loud call of your name. Eddie watched all the color drain from your face and how your posture went rigid before you flashed him another smile. “Sorry, just… Just a minute.” You said apologetically, pushing the guitar into his hands and hurrying inside.

Confused, he couldn’t help but look you over before letting his gaze skip over to the darkness through the open door. To the space inside that he’d never seen. “Oh. Yeah, no, that’s fine.” He reassured you, his eyebrows drawing together in a worry he couldn’t identify.

“Thanks again Eddie,” you said, corralling like you were trying to rush him out as you pressed the cash into his hand. “I’ll see you next week?”

And you looked at him hopefully, pleadingly. Every week. Like you were terrified this would be the time he finally said no.

Every week, he said, “I’ll see you then.”

When he looked back, he saw you, giving him that same warm smile as you offered a little wave goodbye. And over your shoulder, in the dark of the house, Henry was standing there. Watching him go.

The next few weeks were back to normal. He’d come around the back, you’d let him in, and you’d both laugh and smile for the first time all week.

He’d only managed to teach you half a song, but that was fine with you. You’d rather listen to him play and sing than anything else. Begged for it every week. Sang along when you felt like it too. It was easy, happy, and good.

Eddie was only a few feet from the fence gate when he heard you call his name. Backing up, you were standing in the open doorway of the front, waving him over with that same bright smile. “Hey! It’s good to see you.”

Hesitantly, he approached the door, hands in his pockets and the guitar slung over his shoulder. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to use the front door,” he teased, slowly marching the couple of steps to meet you.

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed his forearm and tugged him in, shutting and locking the door behind him. “Henry is out of town, so I thought we could have our lesson inside this week. Maybe listen to something on the stereo too.”

Distracted by studying the interior of your home, he nodded and muttered an agreement. You fussed over him taking his boots off at the door and then padded across the living room in your socks and into the kitchen to get him a drink.

He walked the room like an art gallery, looking over the art on the walls and the photos. Stopped short on a picture of you and Henry on your wedding day. You, all done up, and beaming up at him like he was a hero as he smiled toward the camera.

You were a beautiful bride.

“Come, sit,” you coaxed from the couch, dragging his attention back to reality. You’d produced a bowl of pretzels and two glasses of lemonade, laid out on the coffee table in nice, expensive glassware. You were sitting on the edge of the cushion, looking up at him with that same warm smile. Like an old friend coming home.

You seemed much more at ease than ever before: smiled easier, laughed louder. Offered him some whiskey and asked him to sing you something while you mixed some drinks.

So the two of you sang and played and drank and laughed and talked for an hour or two, and then longer. The time that you would normally ask him to leave came and went – and you kept singing and talking as the sun went down and night settled over the cul de sac.

The light in the living room was low and warm, casting a glow over both of you. Eddie sang until he felt like he couldn’t anymore, and then you stepped over to turn on the stereo. He couldn’t help but notice you were even closer when you sat back down again.

Eventually, the talking fizzled out, and the two of you sat and listened to the soft melody coming from the stereo in comfortable silence. You’d turned slightly toward him, your legs tucked up on the couch as you leaned an elbow on the back. He had turned toward you too, one knee propped on the cushions.

You both just looked at each other – exchanging small smiles in the growing silence.

And maybe Eddie drank too much of your fancy whiskey, because he leaned in just a little bit closer, looked down at your mouth for just a little too long.

His hand settled on your jaw, thumb to cheek, and felt the heat of your flushed cheeks. He dipped even closer, his eyes lowering, as your breath caught in your chest.

Your eyes nearly doubled in size as your chest rose and fell with stronger breaths, but you didn’t move away. If anything you gravitated closer subconsciously, just a tiny bit of your lower lip tucked between your teeth.

He could swear he heard both of your hearts pounding – but maybe it was just the beat of the stereo he’d tuned out.

“Please, sweetheart,” he found himself begging, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. “Tell me to stop. Tell me to go.”

You’re married. I’m leaving. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Please, Eddie,” you begged in return, your eyebrows pinching together on your forehead in pain. “Please don’t stop.”

And he kissed you like he meant it. Like this was right, even though it was wrong. Like this was supposed to happen, even though it wasn’t.

And you kept kissing him back like you meant it. Like it was easy. Like it was good.

For the next week, Eddie felt like he was walking on air. Like he was living some kind of dream.

You’d kissed him. You’d held him. You’d touched him like no one ever had before. Like he was something, like he was good.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him feel like he was something good.

Couldn’t remember the last time something, or someone, felt like it was worth sticking around for.

And he was whistling a happy tune when he pushed through the gate fence like usual, walking along the stepping stones under the trellis, and to the baby blue screen door. He tapped three times, already smiling just at the idea of seeing you.

But he didn’t hear your husband and his buddies inside. Didn’t hear the loud click of the door shutting. Just saw the vague outline of you approaching the screen door.

You only opened it a few inches, hiding half of your face. Your smile was weak, sad. Forced.

“Sorry, I meant to call you,” you said, fidgeting uncomfortably in the doorway.

His heart dropped, his expression falling too. “Oh. Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” you assured him, and he decided to ignore how choked it sounded. “I just have to cancel our lesson this week. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He looked you over in concern, his mind racing. Was this because of last week? Did you regret it? Do you regret me? “That’s fine, but are you sure everythin–”

Your hand pressed some cash into his, interrupting him. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, before shutting the screen door and turning away.

He stood there until the door clicked shut behind you. And then a little longer.

You didn’t ask if he would be back next week. And he thought to himself…

Maybe it would be better if he wasn’t.

He didn’t get the chance to decide if he would show up the next week, because he saw you again 5 days later.

Through the window to the lobby, he saw you talking to the receptionist with a smile. It almost felt like seeing you for the first time – not on your porch or in your house. Out in the world, the same one he lived in.

Careful not to hit his head, he pushed upright from the engine he had been working on, wiping the grease from his hands on the rag hanging from the pocket of his coveralls. He stretched his arms up and back – his shoulders protesting and throbbing in pain as he did so.

Shaking out his limbs after spending a bit too long in the same position, he swung his head this way and that and then did a double take.

He didn’t realize he was walking toward the lobby, toward you, until he was pushing through the glass door inside.

You and the receptionist both looked over at the sound, your jaw dropping as the receptionist gave a nod and told you that she would be right back, leaving the two of you alone. “Eddie…” You said, quiet like a whisper. Quiet like singing on the porch while your husband was inside.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he responded with a conflicted smile, taking a few steps closer. Becoming even more conscious of the sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead and that he probably smelled not so great, and wondered if you could smell it too.

Your smile twisted into something sad as you faced him fully, your hands still settled on the receptionist's counter. Both of your eyes had dark shadows beneath them, but on one of them the skin was almost puffy – and the dark coloring extended down into your cheekbone.

Eddie’s heart thumped painfully in his chest as he took three steps closer, fingertips coming to your chin to tilt your head so he could get a better look. Your eyes closed in defeat, allowing him to study the bruising around your eye that was poorly covered by makeup, and another bruise just peeking out of the collar of your turtleneck.

It was like ice water down his spine. Goosebumps breaking out across his skin as his muscles tightened in quick succession, anger and adrenaline kicking up. “Who? Who did this to you?”

Your eyes opened again as you faced him head on, tears pooling in your lower lash line as you shook your head. “Please, sweetheart. Did Henry…?” Your expression fell as you looked away from him, your mouth setting into a firm line.

“It’s nothing,” you tried to say, tried to push him away, tried to close off.

“It’s not nothing,” he hissed, his anger getting the better of him before you flinched – breaking his heart in two. He reeled himself back, one hand dipping to cup your elbow over your sweater sleeve. “He gave you a black eye, and that bruise on your neck, and I bet those aren’t the only–”

“Eddie, I’ll be fine.” You insisted, the muscles in your jaw tight and hurting. “It was an accident– I shouldn’t have tried to– I swear, he’s a good man…” You skipped from thought to thought as your tone wavered, your eyes trained on the door the receptionist disappeared into as if willing her to come back, to save you from this interaction.

“I don’t know much,” he said sadly, getting your attention again. “But I do know that he is not a good man. And I think you know it too.”

Your mouth opened and closed, once, twice. Blinking at him as a single tear fell down your cheek.

The receptionist stepped back in and you rushed to wipe the tear away, subtly taking a step away from him. You greeted her with a polite smile as she handed you a stack of papers and a set of car keys. Eddie took that as his cue to leave – turning his back to you and heading back for the garage.

“Eddie?”

He turned back slightly, looking at you as you hesitated by the door to the lobby. Your shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath before you spoke again. “I’ll see you next week?” You asked, thinly veiled hope in your voice.

Your smile wavered, your eyes getting slightly misty again, as you gave him a slight nod. “Okay.”

And it was so, so hard to say no to you.

“Why don’t you give me a call when you’ve figured things out?” He offered vaguely, well aware of the receptionist still in the room and how she was probably eavesdropping. “And we’ll see if I’m still around then.”

Then you pushed back out into the sun and away from him.

Two months later, at the usual time on the usual day, Eddie’s phone rings.

Just like every time his phone rang before this, every time since the last time he talked to you those weeks ago, he tries not to get his hopes up when he picks it up. “Hello?”

Just so he can be sure it’s really you.

“Hey Eddie,” you reply through the hum of the landline. You sound exhausted but happy. Or maybe he's reading too much into it already.

He’s tempted to ask you to repeat yourself, like he hadn’t heard you, just so he can hear it again.

“Hey,” he offers instead, attempting to keep his cool despite the sweat that immediately broke out across his palms.

There’s a few moments of silence, and he’s worried maybe you hung up. Maybe you decided this wasn’t a good idea. He’s about to ask if you’re still there when you ask, “Are you free tonight for a lesson?”

His brain stutters, confused as he narrows his eyes at the wall. “For a lesson?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, the air huffing noisily across the line. “You can bring your guitar and we… We can play in the living room.”

Hope tugs at his heart like a fishing line being reeled in towards shore. “In the living room?” He repeats again, for reassurance.

There’s a few moments of silence that weigh heavily on his shoulders before you reply. “If that’s okay?”

“I can be there in an hour.”

He ended up on your doorstep a little bit earlier than that.

The fancy car was gone from the driveway and the lawn looked like it hadn’t been touched in a little bit too long.

Nervous like a kid going on his first date, he hiked up the concrete steps and knocked on your front door. Held his breath – like he was waiting for you to open it and yell at him for coming to the front, for coming at all.

You opened the door and gave him that smile again. Like he was an old friend coming home after a long time away.

“Eddie,” you said, half as a relieved sigh. “It’s good to see you.”

And you looked good. Tired and a bit like you had been having trouble taking care of yourself, but lighter. More at ease.

“It’s good to see you too.”

You invited him in, fussed about him taking his boots off at the door, and then rushed to grab him a drink – more nervous than you were before. Nervous?

He noticed the missing photos on the walls before he sat down on the couch and set his guitar beside him. You came back over with a snack and two drinks, setting them on the coffee table with slightly trembling hands. When you sat down on the couch, a friendly distance away, you stopped to take a deep breath. Like you’d noticed how visibly anxious you were.

He took the moment to ask the question burning in his chest. “How are you?”

You laughed a bit, shaking your head. But the smile was still there as you shifted to look more fully at him. “I’m… I’m tired. But better.” You confirmed, telling him in not so many words you were glad for what happened. He smiled too – which only seemed to make yours grow wider. 

“I was scared you might’ve left town already,” you admitted quietly.

And honestly, he had thought about it. He had the money he’d originally planned to save and more. But everytime he thought about leaving, he felt this sink in his gut. Like he would regret it if he did. And maybe it was silly to wait but, it led him back here.

“I think I decided to stick around for a while,” he offered vaguely. Shrugging a shoulder like it was a small thing. Like he hadn’t admitted to you that staying places for too long made him feel antsy and uncomfortable.

Your face was hopeful, almost pleading. “You did?”

And when he nodded to reassure you, the smile that broke out across your face made him feel like maybe the sun wasn’t setting just yet.

“So… A lesson?” He asked, grabbing the neck of his guitar and pulling it into his lap before looking to you.

You pulled your legs up to tuck on the couch beside you, turned toward him with your elbow resting on the back cushions. “Actually, I think I just want to hear you play.”

“Oh yeah?” He teased, trying to ignore how it made a flush push up his neck from his chest in embarrassment. “What do you want to hear?”

“Something happy,” you responded quietly, like singing on the porch at night. “Something good.”

“Something happy…” He murmured, absently strumming along the beat up six string in his lap. 

Looking up and meeting your eyes again, seeing your smile again, he thought of just the song. “I think we can manage that.”

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thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!

[peachdues]

anyways have some Levi angst from my upcoming secret pregnancy fic Coalescence

But Levi’s threat did not appear to ruffle Zeke in the slightest. “It must be difficult for you,” he said offhandedly. “All this time spent in service to an organization that’s synonymous with a death sentence —“

“I wasn’t under the impression you gave a particular shit.” Levi interrupted, bored. “Given your commitment to slaughtering us all.”

Zeke waived his bound hands dismissively. “Whatever our differences, Captain, I can appreciate the toll constant fighting and war can wage on a man.” He took a swig of too-thin coffee. “I’d say we’re more similar than you might realize, wouldn’t you?”

“The day I have anything in common with you is the day I stick one of my blades through my skull.”

With that, Levi rose and turned away, eager to put space between himself and the insufferable sack of horse shit he was forced to drag along with the rest of the Corps.

“No need to be so dramatic, Captain,” the blonde groaned. “After all, what would poor Y/N do, if you left her to deal with the trials of birth and child rearing all by herself?”

Levi froze mid-step, his heart skipping several beats.

“I can’t imagine how difficult it must be, leaving your pregnant girl every few days for hell knows how long,” Zeke shrugged. “Never knowing whether you’ll get to go back at all.”

Levi’s fists were clenched tight enough that his nails broke through the skin of his palms, his shoulders rigid as he worked to control his breathing. With his back turned away from deadly Beast titan, the Captain could not see the breezy smile which graced his lips, Zeke relishing his obvious stiffness.

“But do you know what I think the worst thing would be?” He continued, pulling a beaten, battered book from the lining of his jacket, idly flipping through its dog-eared and water stained pages. “I imagine it would be the constant worry of something horrible happening — not to me, but to her.”

Zeke shook his head, mournfully. “Or, god forbid, her and the child.”

Levi pivoted slowly on his heel back towards the blonde where he sat, pretending to read the very book he’d complained to Levi of having already read too many times just days before.

“What.” His voice was flat and harder than stone.

Zeke didn’t bother to lift his eyes from the pages of his novel. “Pregnant women are so vulnerable, you know. Not much they can do to protect themselves from harm that may come their way — even when they’ve trained under the brutal Scout regimen.”

“It must be torture for you to know that something could happen to her, and you would be unable to stop it,” Zeke finally looked up to behold the cold violence in Levi’s eyes. “To be utterly out of control.”

An poisonous smile unfurled across his lips. “I guess that’s why you’ve had her staying back at your old headquarters, no?”

[mournings-stars]

Hello hello! I’d like to request some platonic into romantic headcannons on an Alastor x fallen ex-exorcist/exterminator reader please :>

Small background: Reader fell for whatever reason and maybe a few days to a week (or even months-) afterward they end up striking a deal with Alastor, where they’ll be under his protection (because as skilled as they are it wouldn’t matter much with the entirety of hell on their ass) but he gets a pretty good portion of their power in return or maybe something else that you think Alastor would take.

Gender neutral reader pls

I’ve only read one fic or two with this concept and I am on my hands and knees for more lol

If you prefer a different writing format or feel this is too specific or OC-ish please please please feel free to change anything! I’m not very picky ^^

Thank you for your time and have a good day/night!

okay i LOVE this concept — i think it be the slowest fucking burn in the world tho like

you were never one of adam’s favorites, as you had the tendency to spare demons who seem harmless, but covered it nearly everytime

during this last extermination, however, he was trying to catch you fucking up the plan, so the minute you skipped over someone, he had lute launch her weapon at you

i doubt he’d let her kill you or anything, but he definitely just left you there for the demons to finish off, probably pinned to the ground with lute’s spear in your wing or something before he called all the other exorcists back (and he made sure to leave your halo so even if you did change clothes people knew what you were)

luckily (not really) you’d be in cannibal town, so before anyone could get to you, alastor’s probably just walking around like nothings happening (LMAO) and sees you

i doubt he’d make it known he saw you, like he’d definitely keep humming merrily down the street until he saw you struggling to get away from him as quickly as possible and tearing your wing even more

“my, my, let’s calm down, shall we?” he’d laugh and take the spear out of your wing. “isn’t that better, little bird?” but he’d say that while literally pointing the spear at you so don’t feel too safe

you’d definitely get defensive and shoot into the air with your weapon, ready to kill, and i think after seeing you still attempting to fly with that damaged of a wing (like its fucked up), he’d be impressed enough to drop the spear he had with a very big grin

“you’d better hide, little bird”

and you’d take his warning to fly off, quickly snatching lute’s weapon with yours in case you needed to defend yourself

he would literally just smile and watch you leave before continuing to hum and walk down the street

it’d probably be like a solid three days of hiding and having to fight for your life before the damage to your wing really messed with you and you had to force yourself to find a good hiding place

maybe you see charlie on the news and notice that no one seems to want to go to her hotel, so you force yourself to fly all the way there like a week after her horrible interview (ep 1) and practically collapse at the front door

of course you recognize vaggie and of course you practically run over and hug her despite the spear pointed at you… and of course that means vaggie either may or may not have to confess depending on if you pick up that no one knows or not (off the concept but im sparing chaggie heartbreak)

“who the fuck is this?” would be the first thing you hear from a spider demon and you’d have to explain what you were and hope they didn’t kill you — which, duh, charlie wouldn’t that let happen

“hello again, little bird,” would make everyone shut up because… how does alastor know you??? of course, he doesn’t answer their questions, just says hello and moves on like it’s all normal

your first day would totally be catching up with vaggie, probably breaking down because you needed to get back to heaven and had no way there

i think exorcists probably have a little bit of angelic power, but they probably can’t create portals without that power being given to them or something which means you have no way home and no where to go

vaggie and charlie of course tell you to stay, but once anyone shows up they’ll know you’re here and all of hell would be coming to the hotel to try and get to you — and you didn’t want to ruin what they had going (even if it was small you thought it was a great idea) so they probably give you a change of clothes, something more hellish, and tell you to stay until you have somewhere else to go

that would probably give alastor the perfect opportunity to talk to you privately and offer his protection

you wouldn’t take his offer at first, but once pentious shows up and the overlords somehow find out that charlie is hiding an angel in her hotel (vox and his stupid drones) you dont really have a choice

i dont think he’d ask for any power in return, but i do think you’d owe him a favor each time he has to protect you

vox would probably give subtle hints in all the programs he runs, so alastor would have to protect you very often

that meant if he ordered you to get rid of someone, you did it — whether that meant by the snap of your fingers with holy light (which they could potentially survive or respawn from) or killing them with your exorcist weapon was totally up to him sometimes, he just asked that you create a bouquet of flowers for his room

usually the people he had you “take care of” were repulsive enough, and you never minded creating things with your abilities, so you agreed to what he asked with ease

it’d be a little time before who he instructed you to “take care of” slowly shifted to anyone who wronged you

of course, he’d still protect you, but if he didn’t own their soul and he didnt have an angelic weapon, he couldn’t ensure that they wouldn’t come back, so he asked you, “do you think they’ll come back for you, little bird?” if you were unsure, or knew it was likely they’d come back for the person that ended up being the reason they had to go through the painful process of respawning, he’d tell you to just kill them

it’d probably come to a point where he stopped asking for favors, made sure you were alright, and told you to focus on what you needed to do while he “did his job”

i think eventually you’d find a place you think could be safe and once your wing is totally healed up and alright you’d say your goodbyes even though you weren’t that close with anyone but vaggie (also i feel like niffty would be down to talk to u about her bug battles or some shit)

anyway, when you go to say bye to alastor, he definitely cashes in his favor with a simple “hmm, no” cus he sees no reason for you to leave??? like so what everyone else’s lives are in danger by you being here… you’re safer here

so you’d stay, and it’d definitely make charlie happy because if she can get an angel back to heaven that’d prove she could actually do this

you’d be pissed at alastor for a while, but slowly, it seemed like demons understood that by coming for you, they were fucking with the radio demon (and we all know how that goes) so after a few months you were finally left alone

in that time you’d totally help spruce up the hotel while slowly forgetting why you wanted to go back

but every once in a while you’d have a very prolonged sadness about the situation… heaven was your home after all, and even if you liked the hotel, you could never leave because the minute you stepped outside, there was a line for your head — you were trapped there (like a bird in a cage — hence the nickname)

i think even though everyone likes having you there, vaggie would eventually bring up lucifer (like he can literally open a portal…)

but immediately alastor is not fucking having it and he cashes in another one of his pent up favors, saying that getting back to heaven through a fallen angel was the dumbest thing you could do if you wanted it to look like you were the one wronged in this situation (he has a point i fear)

i think this is where you kind of accept that you’re not going home and maybe just give up because 1. you can’t go to the heaven embassy since you’d just be met with adam and 2. the only person that could get you contact wasn’t a good option

i think now would be when alastor recognizes how much you want to go home and finds himself feeling bad?? for keeping you, but he just wants you to get home safely and surely

still, once he sees that you literally wont leave your room and have contemplated taking your own halo he compromises to let you try going to the heaven embassy to see if you could get a meeting with anyone but adam

you said it wasn’t possible, but he insisted “i can’t have you looking so upset all the time, birdie” he’d say while using his hand to squish your cheeks into a smile just to make you laugh

so you’d go — i think you’d totally get there safely but once demons see an exorcist angel coming out of the heaven embassy, you have to fight the minute you step out of the building

you can 100% see holy light from the hotel, so the minute alastor sees a golden beam he’s out the door

you can handle your own, so you fought them off, but i’d imagine you get injured and that’s what really makes alastor realize he’s falling for you cus he’s seething

even just a minuscule amount of golden blood on you had him tearing apart any demon who even looked like they’d been near you

i hate to say it but i don’t think this would be a happy ending — reader loves heaven even though they hate being an exorcist and alastor knows that so he’d definitely keep his feelings hidden and if you showed any signs of feelings for him he’d be terrified because an angel falling, literally falling because thats what would happen to you, for someone like him would never get you back home

obviously it’d come to a point where he doesn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, he’d never keep you

if i did end up writing an actual fic of this it’d probably end on a bit of a cliffhanger ex. reader getting accepted back and being hesitant with alastor’s last favor just him saying, “if you want to stay for anyone, don’t,” and letting you decide whether or not to go back

OR reader being accepted back but still having to be an exorcist, so the next time they see alastor is the finale where adam would 100% put them against him

[virgincels]

WASTE ME 3

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. rape/non-con, painal, vomit like a lot of it, emotional abuse

a/n. so messy n rushed cuz i deleted it like 5 times n rewrote it over n over 😭 sorry it’s so flat from leon’s side but omg rbs n feedback appreciated :3 unedited so ignore typos please :3 leon is um. idk I think I changed his character drastically from the last parts but whatever!!! if u see me using shit from old fics ignore it ong

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

one / two

“Can you put that away? I can’t concentrate.” Leon’s hands tighten their grip on the wheel, agitation creeps into his voice as you push the visor back into its place, then very promptly - when you think he’s not looking - pull it back down for the umpteenth time to give yourself a once over. “Cut it out.”

“Sorry.” You say quickly, as if the words have been festering in your mouth for a while now.

“Hey, you don’t have to come.” You do, you have to or I'm in deep shit. I bet a couple hundred on this. A date, that is. In all the years he’s known his friends, not once has he brought a date to their annual New Year’s party. “We’re not too far from your house, I can turn the car around.”

“No,” You shake your head, “No, I want to come with you.”

Leon isn’t sure if he wants you to come with him, if he’s ready for the barrage of questions and insults, namely from Claire. He’s taking you ‘cause there’s no one else, and to be quite frank, he considered hiring an escort before he even thought of you. The thing is, you’ve gotten too comfortable around him. Using pet names, babe and baby, so Leon tried to put some distance between the two of you. ‘Cause that made him queasy. You’re not dating. He’s thirty-seven years old, there’s no room in his life to date, you don’t date at that age. You fuck and get it over with.

“I don’t know what you’re nervous about,” Leon hums, he turns the radio down, ���You look nice.” He expects you to fawn over him, throw yourself into his lap ‘cause he said you don’t look bad. That’s what you’re like, right? Doesn’t take a whole lot to get your tail wagging.

“Don’t say that.” The tone in which you speak is new, Leon hasn’t heard that before. Not been on the receiving end of any mood swings you’re bound to have. You have the emotional capacity of a toddler - no form of regulation over any of your thoughts and feelings, words slip past your lips like you’ve got the shits. Verbally speaking.

“What?” He asks, dumbfounded by the total switch.

“I don’t like it… I don’t like when you say things like that, it feels like you're lying.” And he’s not. That might be the first time he’s ever told you the truth so directly.

“I’m not, why would I lie about that?” Oh, so all of a sudden you’ve managed to grasp the concept of self respect? Talking back to him and shit. You know, Leon’s kinda proud of you. One of you had to break free from the binds of your swaddling cloth sooner or later. One of you has to cut ties, and it sure as hell won’t be him. It’s not that you’ve grown on him, instead you’ve torn open his flesh and slipped between the cracks in his ribs. Nestled into his chest cavity and made it your home. Or he’s just real lonely.

“I’m not stupid, Leon.”

“I never said you were stupid.”

“You’re looking at me like I’m stupid.”

“What? No, I’m not. I’m looking straight ahead, ‘cause I’m driving?”

“Yeah? Well, keep looking at the road.” You huff through your nostrils, and it’s absurd, the shit you come up with. All it does is show your age. He’s fucking a kid, one that can’t even drink yet.

Leon does just that, neither of you utter a word for the remainder of the journey. When he gets out, you catch up with him, take his arm in yours as if it belongs to you, he’d rather you take his heart. So all the tenderness would be zapped from his system. Leon’s love comes in the shape of your casket, it comes with the engravings on your tombstone, empty and cadaverous. It’s not enough for you, you don’t know that, but he does. Leon’s a weeping sore of a man, the kind that won’t go away, not with over-the-counter pills, not the type that gets drained, not even antibiotics could help him. You’re licking his wounds and getting nothing from it, nothing but a mouthful of infectious pus.

“Leon— Oh.” The smile on Claire’s face drops as quick as it came, her forehead creases, and he’d like to tell her pretty girls shouldn’t frown so hard, they’ll get wrinkles, but she’d have his head. Tell him that it’s a natural progression, and that he’s looking a little rough these days, he should try keto. Leon has been on keto most his life if dick counts as meat.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, draws you closer, smiling with all his teeth to show Claire that he really likes you when he really doesn’t. Well, he does, it’s just complicated. “Claire.” Leon greets with a nod of his head, he introduces you despite the uneasiness, then guides you to sit on an unoccupied seat beside Rebecca, his hand on your lower back.

From the corner of his eye, Leon watches you shift in your seat as Claire asks him if this is a thing now - cherry picking. If he’s going through a midlife crisis, and that she knows a guy who knows a girl who knows a good shrink, one that keeps real quiet. Then their conversation gets derailed and she begins to talk about Simone de Beauvoir, wrote a book called The Second Sex apparently, Claire reveres it, and Leon is confused on how they got to here.

Hunnigan argues that The Second Sex others women of colour very brashly, and it’s not quite argumentative because Hunnigan talks factually, like everything she says is right, and it usually is. It’s impressive how often she teeters on a condescending edge. She says Claire should read more on intersectionality, and Claire nods, bats her lashes ‘cause she listens to pretty ladies well. The only intersection Leon knows of is a road junction— he wonders how you’re doing with Rebecca, so he excuses himself from the conversation. Hunnigan tells him that he wasn’t included in the first place.

When he catches sight of you, you’re sitting alone, picking at whatever piece of food you can get, leg bouncing so hard the table does too. Chris grabs his arm and drags his arm towards Jill, and then it’s Sherry, who is always a joy, and then Ashley, and her dad who Leon, for some reason, thought was in a wheelchair. He gets to you a full forty minutes later.

“Woah, slow down, are you okay?” Leon takes your wrist in his, wonders how to word this correctly, without you taking any offence. “You’re eating a lot.” Shit. Not the best opener.

“I am not.” There’s a droplet of sweat trickling down the column of your neck, he wipes it with his thumb. “Am I? Did you notice? Oh my gosh, you so did. Did anyone else notice? Why did you take so long? I didn’t know what to do, Leon. Was I supposed to say anything? Was I meant to come with you?”

“Listen, calm down, god, no— just, I told you to sit here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” You nod, tremors making your hands unsteady as you take his. “I think I should go.”

“What?” Leon’s face twists, “I gotta stay, Sherry wants me to stay, I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

You bristle at this, shoulders slumping, “No, I don’t need you to drop me, I can just get a cab back, I just feel a little out of place, Leon. Like, I know no one even knows my name, but I just feel like they’re all looking at me and talking about me and I feel so stupid.”

He gets it, truly. “You should stay.” Leon’s fingers intertwine with yours, though it’s nothing gentle, it’s to keep you under lock and key. A threat of sorts.

“Leon, I don’t really, like, I’m just sitting here eating on my own, I look like a freak.” You said it, not him.

“You could try to engage, y’know?” And it’s so hypocritical for him to say, ‘cause Leon needs a drink or five before he can even stomach talking to the older Redfield. Not that Chris is a bad guy, he’s just so intensely stupid sometimes.

“Leon,” You take your hand back, and it’s the first time you’ve denied him of anything, “I don’t think they really care if I’m here or not, I’m going home.” It’s not a question, not Leon, may I go home now, pretty please? It’s an assertion, you’re firm in your wants, and he hates it. You’re stepping out of line.

So Leon does what he does best, he fucks it up. Back to square one with your blood caked beneath his fingernails and your tears salty on his tongue. ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what you want, it hasn’t mattered before so why would it matter now? He cradles the back of your head when it knocks against the bathroom stall, tips it forward so he can kiss you sweetly. And you’re a sucker for it, hands fisting at the fabric of his dress shirt like a baby. When you’re bare, he kneels down, spreads you apart, and you’re so wet there’s slick dripping down your ass crack. Embarrassing how fast you get it on for him, and Leon’s here with a semi you could barely class as a semi. Though that’s more of a Leon problem.

The nip to your clit makes you gasp, you tangle your fingers in his hair, and he likes that. Leon presses his nose to it, laps at the slick to clean you up, but he’s only getting you messier. He spreads your ass to lick deeper into your hole, then his hand leaves so his middle and forefinger can keep your cushioned lips open, teeth scraping over your slippery folds. Leon’s mouth is moving on autopilot, his brain is working overtime, what’s he gonna do? How can he make you stay? Right, right, right, that’s gotta be it. When Leon pulls away with a pop! you whine, he’s always kind enough to let you cum. Not this time.

“Hold on, kid,” Leon murmurs, spins you around and you brace yourself against the walls of the cubicle automatically. They seem paper thin. He keeps a hand on your hip, the other unbuckling his belt with a clink as he lowers his jeans to slip out his cock that hardens only at the thought of taking you this way. You flail when he pushes into your tighter hole. The puffy rim is wet with your arousal, not wet enough to take cock. He wasn’t even merciful enough to spit on it.

“No, no, oh god, Leon, no, I’m gonna die, Leon, you’ll kill me.” Your bones crack out of place with how hard you struggle against him, limbs angled oddly, and he hates it. No doesn’t sound right coming from you. It’s a tough one, breaching your asshole, getting past the dryness.

You clench so hard, try to push him out, he kisses the nape of your neck, the tackiness of sweat salty on his lips. “Stop runnin’ from it, I’ve got you.”

“Please— Please, please, Leon,” Your cheek is squashed against the cubicle door, nails scratching at it till they crack and split. He reaches round to cover your mouth, you’re getting too loud. There’s snot and tears and spit covering his palm, but it’s alright. Worth it.

“Hey, hey, hey, c’mon do it for me. You can do it for me, can’t you? You’re not a baby.” Leon’s teeth tug on your earlobe, he manages to bury himself to the hilt in your ass. A miracle really, ‘cause he can barely move an inch back or forth.

You’re gasping for breath, knees buckling despite him supporting your weight. The pain must be bad, he knows what it’s like, that sickeningly raw pain. Feels like it’s in your guts, stirring up all the acid, tangling your intestines. But he got over it, and you got over it once upon a time. So you can do it, he knows you can.

For a minute, he thinks you stop breathing, you slump over and he struggles to hold you up, then he gets ahold of you. You’re dry heaving, retching as you claw at the cubicle, he draws his hips back and you whimper brokenly into his palm. There’s an abundance of resistance, but Leon’s strong enough to push past it, his strokes are shallow - can’t find it in himself to fuck you hard and deep. Well, Leon would, but it’s too much effort.

There’s no letting up, you’re stubborn today, his free hand reaches round to tweak your nipple, then it trails down your body, cups your cunt and parts your fold to thumb your swollen clit. It does little to lessen the ache, the burn, but Leon hopes you’ll loosen up. “Hey, you got it, jus’ focus on my fingers, okay?”

“Okay, Leon,” You get out through ragged breaths, chest rising up and down unevenly as you try to regain some sort of consciousness, he's raped you into delirium. Leon grits his teeth, that word is harsh on his ears still. “Okay… I’ll try, I’ll try… I’m trying—“

“I know you are,” Leon talks you through it, talks you through rape unlike the first time, so that must mean something, give him some kind of credit. “I know it hurts, it’ll get better, yeah? I promise.”

“I can’t breathe— Leon, I can’t-“ Your hands press down on your stomach, then your chest, heart beating wildly, to the point where he thinks he can hear it.

“You can breathe, ‘cause you’re talking to me right now, aren’t you?” He asks, “Remember what you said to me? You said I could do this.”

“I know… I know, Leon, I’m really sorry— God, it hurts so bad.” Another sob is muffled into his wet palm.

“I know, but you said you would do it for me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Leon, I’m sorry, I did— I did.” You shiver, head jerking to the side as he pulls back, then slams his hips back into you - so hard your knees knock against the cubicle. The pressure on your clit alleviates nothing it seems, even when he presses a little harder, you continue to kick and squirm.

“Just a little more, yeah?” Leon tells you, he kisses your shoulder for good measure, starts up a rhythmic pace that rewards him with a squeaky yelp each time he thrusts. You’re uncomfortably tight, and it’s pretty dry, but Leon makes do, most nights his fist is drier.

Sweat prickles at your delicate skin, and your body goes rigid when he cums, he jams himself so far into you Leon fears he might have trouble pulling out. Dick might come off clean. He smooths a hand down your spine, “You’re okay.” Leon says, and it’s more of an order than anything else.

He takes your clothes from where they’re hung on the single hook, he might be a serial rapist, but he’s a gentleman. Serial might be a stretch, Leon’s not quite at that point yet, and he doesn’t intend to be. But he might be your serial rapist, ‘cause it’s happened multiple times and all.

Your gait is off, more so than last time, taking shuddering breaths as you clutch at his arm. Leon doesn’t know what to say, he leads you out the back, ‘cause Claire will look him in the eye and know what he’s done. Step by step, you wobble towards the door to the passenger seat, crumpling against it as you fumble with the handle.

“Let me do it,” Leon grows impatient, steps forward, you jump out of your skin, snapping out of your haze as you manage to open the door. Your teeth are chattering, and you’re clammy, ribs rattling noisily when you cough. He wonders if he’s really done it now, fucked over his chance with you of all people.

Every time there’s a bump in the road, you wince visibly, nails digging into the leather of his seat to try and conceal any noise leakage. “Leon?”

He stops at a red light, turns to you in surprise, didn’t think you were capable of speaking right now. “Yeah?”

“Do you think she’s cute? The one who dresses like Jackie O?” Of course it’s some insecure shit like that, the first thing you say to break the silence post-rape is a question about whether or not he likes a girl.

“Ashley’s pretty.” Leon answers, face that launched a thousand ships - or a thousand Molotov cocktails, right at him actually, by the hands of religious zealots. He thinks that if it weren’t for a lot of things, they could’ve worked out, and maybe he wouldn’t have resorted to getting drunk and raping college kids in alleys.

“Leon, I think I’m gonna throw up.” Your voice is low, shaky, rolling down the window and letting the chill hit your warm face.

“I can pull over.” Leon offers, he can’t bother to go through with dry cleaning. Rather it come out on the side of the road than his carpets.

“No, never mind, I’m fine.” You go quiet again, then, “What about the big guy, do you like him?”

“What?” He looks like he’s constipated, the idea of Chris and him is an interesting one that’s never crossed his mind. Sure, he’s objectively attractive, but he’s so hardheaded it pisses Leon off. “No, well, yeah, I like him ‘cause he’s my friend.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.” You lie, and he knows you’re lying, because you’re you, and he knows you. Predictable little thing. “Okay, so, what about the girl you were talking to at the beginning when we came in. Ponytail, red jacket.”

“God, no, Claire’s just my friend.”

“Yeah, I know, Leon. I’m asking if, like, you like her. As a friend. I just want to know more about you.” Liar, he indulges you anyway. He owes you one, and maybe money for hospital bills.

“She’s my best friend,” Leon claims, she might not think of him that way, but Leon certainly thinks of Claire that way. “Of course I like her, I love her.”

“Then who was the lady with glasses? The tall one?” You peer at him hesitantly, the dark obscures much of your face from him, but he sees your wide eyes.

“Hunnigan? Yeah, she’s hot, I don’t want her though.” Too brash, his tongue slipped. It’s more that she doesn’t want him. Leon wouldn’t tell you that though. He’s patient for you, lets you ask questions that reek of insecurity before he’s pulling up on his drive.

“I don’t want to take them off,” You’re quick to stop his wandering hands, eyes going foggy and faraway when he tries to get you out of your underwear, “Please, Leon.” There’s blood smeared on the backs of your thighs that Leon pretends not to notice.

And because he’s so kind, and reeling with guilt from the whole public bathroom sodomy situation, Leon abides. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure, I’ll just get you off.” You insist, squeezing his half-hearted boner, thumbing the tip, cupping his balls, all the stuff he’s taught you to do. He might not get it up, ‘cause he’s had a drink, and ‘cause he’s still spent from earlier. Rape is no joke, shit takes a lot of effort, fucking a dry hole is not as pleasing as bootcamp made it seem.

Your mouth is warm on his cock, you lick along the vein on his underside, kiss the tip sweetly like you love him - it’s not like ‘cause you do love him. The head rests weighty on your tongue, you take half of him easily. You’re not the best at sucking dick, so he doesn’t expect much from you, expectations already reduced to zero, but Leon tilts his head back with a groan when you begin to bob your head. Look at that, you’ve gotten better.

Really, he should’ve known, seen all the signs. The tell-tale bulge in your throat, something foreign, not his dick ‘cause shits not the big. You felt sick in the car, he’d seen you gag over the toilet bowl after he came inside you. Leon’s reflexes are good, but not good enough. When you finally make it to the balls, eyes wet with unshed tears as he pushes your limits, nose in his crotch— you go to raise your head, he makes the mistake of pushing you back down. Biggest mistake of his life. And Leon has made a lot of mistakes.

He’s had monster after monster spew their god knows what on him. Been knee-deep in sewers, he’s been pissed on by military men for fuck’s sake. Somehow, this tops it off. You sicking up hors d'oeuvres on his lap. Vomit on his dick is the worst feeling Leon’s felt in quite a while. He’d rather break his ribs again and again and again and again. Over and over. Have them caved in by a metal pipe.

You lurch backwards, vomit caked around your mouth, coating his cock, dripping down your chin. God, he might add to the mess, but Leon’s got a strong enough stomach to hold it. Happy New Year! God Bless America. Isn’t this just the dream?

“Oh my god,” You gasp, wipe at your mouth drearily with your bare arm, breathing picking up as you stagger away from him, “God, no, no, no.”

He blinks at you, and you stare at him shell-shocked. Leon inhales, counts to ten, he's been through worse. He has. Honest. What’s a little puke on his cock going to do?

“I’m sorry, Leon, I’m so sorry, oh my gosh, Leon, I’m so sorry, what do I do?” You fumble and use his blanket to wipe him clean, doing a shit job as he anticipated. “I can do it, I can do it, I can get you off, I’m sorry, please, let me make it up to you, Leon.” Then you’re clocking in for your shift, sloppy and hurried all at once as you suck him off, only for a moment- then a wave of nausea hits and a second bout of puke is spewed on his lap, waterlogging his sheets as it trickles down his thighs. Fuck, it’s fucking gross. Made the place into a biohazard.

“Hey, c’mon—“

“No, no, Leon,” You retch, spit bubbling in the back of your throat as you shake your head in wild refusal, “I can do it, please, please,” He feels you swallow around him, tight little throat that’s only got space for vomit and not his cock, ‘cause it’s pushed out of your mouth as you gag and drip liquified party food. Your head pops back up, dabbing at the stickiness that covers the bottom half of your face to no avail.

“Kid.” Leon grabs you by your hair, straightens you up so you’re facing him, drool pooling in your mouth, tongue heavy as you’re racked with full body shivers to warn you of more. This time you make it to the bathroom, courtesy of Leon, there’s vomit tracked down his hall, on the rug Sherry bought him to brighten up his boring bedroom. “Let it all out,” He’s trying his best to be comforting, rubbing your back as your head hangs limp in the toilet bowl till there’s nothing but bile and spit.

Leon lets you shower first, ‘cause y’know, he loves sitting around soaked in barf. Really lets it marinate. He watches your figure through the foggy glass, barely able to keep yourself up, leaning against the wall when you have to wash anything from the waist below. God, he fucked you up. Maybe the vomit bath is more than deserved. He feels it crust over on his dick and itches.

“Are you okay now?” Leon mumbles, his body takes on your curled up shape, knows you could use the comfort.

The mattress in his room has been stripped bare, sheets put on a double spin in the washing machine. For now, the two of you lay close in the guest room that’s been unused since he moved in. “I’m okay.” You whisper, placing your hand over his when he wraps his arm around you. He thinks you’ve fallen asleep going by how still you are. “Leon?”

He wonders if it’s worth pretending to be asleep, can’t lie that he forgives you for that, then any ounce of initial hostility ebbs away and he feels white, hot guilt. “Yeah?”

“Before I met you, I would think of all this stupid shit, like I wanted to get ran over so people would care about me, or they’d feel bad for me, and then I stopped thinkin’ like that when we started dating.” You’re not dating him. Leon’s unsure on how to make that explicitly clear. “But, then, I started thinking like that again. ‘Cause I thought I wanted you to rape me ‘cause I thought you liked me, I wouldn’t mind if you liked me, I would let you do anything to me. I thought that you’d feel bad and take care of me after but you don’t, you just act like it didn’t happen.”

Leon closes his eyes, lashes fluttering on the skin of your back, the light tickle is slight enough as to not alarm you. He listens to you, but he doesn’t know what to think, what to say, it’s a lot.

“I only want you to rape me if you like me, but you hate me.” And that’s so far from the truth, Leon doesn’t hate you, and he doesn’t love you, but he does want you. For reasons he can’t explain himself. “I just, I don’t want you to rape me ‘cause you hate me, I want you to hold my hand after and sometimes I want you to kiss me.”

“So if I start liking you, I can do it?” Grown fucking man and he can’t say rape out loud. Leon wonders why it comes so naturally to you, how you can talk so openly about topics he can’t stomach despite being the perpetrator of said topic.

“Yeah, I just want you to like me, Leon.” You don’t beg, it’s pleading, thumb stroking over his knuckles.

“I’ll try.” Leon gives his oath, he’s a bad person he thinks. Not ‘cause of his mom, not ‘cause of dad, not ‘cause of all the shit back in Raccoon City, not ‘cause of bootcamp— none of it. It’s ’cause he feels like it, and he does it to you on purpose, and Leon knows that, but he can’t fix it. “I’ll try.” He repeats to himself, knowing very well his attempt will fall flat.