#might as well tag his full name uh-

[flowersforbucky]

down bad

bucky barnes x reader

author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only

word count: 3.9k

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”

“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.

“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.

“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”

“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”

“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.

“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”

“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”

Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.

Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.

“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”

“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.

“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.

Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.

“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.

“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.

“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.

“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.

“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.

“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”

“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”

— — — — —

One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.

What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?

You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–

“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.

You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…

Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.

“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”

“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.

“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”

“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.

There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.

“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.

To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.

“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.

Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.

“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”

If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.

“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.

“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.

“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”

“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.

You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.

Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.

You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.

You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.

The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.

You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.

“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”

“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.

Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.

“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.

“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.

“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”

He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.

“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.

“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”

Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.

He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.

At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”

“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.

“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.

You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.

“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.

He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.

His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.

His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.

If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.

“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”

“I say show me the way.”

He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.

Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.

He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.

The very last door opens without a hitch.

Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.

Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.

You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.

He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.

You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.

He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.

You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.

He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.

“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.

You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.

You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -

“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”

His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.

He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.

“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.

You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.

You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.

He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.

He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.

God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…

Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.

You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.

His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.

“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.

It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.

When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.

“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”

“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.

He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.

It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.

“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”

You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.

You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”

You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.

Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.

♡♡♡♡♡

i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭

as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!

my masterlist

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.

wc. around 1.3k

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.

“ow, careful there, brat.”

your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.

you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.

“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.

you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.

the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.

“megumi fushiguro.”

you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.

you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.

your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”

your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.

the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.

you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”

your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”

the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”

toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”

that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.

“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.

toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.

megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”

the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.

“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.

you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.

your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”

you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.

it was inevitable at this point.

“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.

“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”

megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.

“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.

toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”

your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.

you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO! (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 461 (teaser); 7.1k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: september 12th

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a/n: this is mostly word vomit but i enjoyed writing jk's character for this one<3

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"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

...

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[sourpeachsayshi]

Praise kink with Nanami, please😭

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: therapist!nanami; client!reader; guided; forbidden; doctor-patient relationship; size kink(?)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: I went overboard with this one.

nanami's eyes darken, his glasses resting just below the bridge of his nose, irises blurring like the haze between night and day. he uncrosses then crosses his legs, desperately trying to adjust the bulge in his pants. his notebook is still resting comfortably on his lap, one of his hands fidgeting with the pen that he lightly taps against the paper, while the other traces the outline of his lip.

your legs are spread apart, your skirt flipped up, underwear pulled to the side. your shirt unbuttoned, exposing the lace fabric of your pretty, pretty bra. the sight of your cunt forms a knot in his throat, which he swallows while trying to forget the many nights he's jacked off picturing himself fucking you.

the one who came to him after leaving her horrible husband. who has struggled to find any sexual pleasure ever since, and who timidly admitted that she finds her underwear soaked after every session with dr. kento.

"I don't think," you sigh, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. "I don't think this will work..."

"but you look good," he reassures, noticing your lashes flutter at his words. "Wet. I can see it from here..."

your face burns with embarrassment, and you part your lips to say something though no words come out.

"just keep listening, okay? you're doing really well for me, I promise this will help," he lies through his teeth, his cheeks tinting a shade of crimson of him abusing his role. "your middle and index finger, use it to rub your clit, not too fast...nice and easy..."

you oblige, and that doesn't take him by surprise. you listen to his guidance, start massaging the nub of your clit gently. a few minutes pass, but he's busy paying attention to your reactions. the way your breath hitches and your chest hiccupping as you try to stifle a moan.

"don't hold it in," he coos, "give in to your natural reactions. it's okay, I'm right here. I'm watching you, helping you. you trust me, right?"

"yes, doctor," you whimper and he hums in response.

"feels good?"

"uh-huh"

"you sound lovely, like you're enjoying it..."

"mmph~"

"faster. add a little more pressure, that's right..." he continues, "how do you feel?"

"warm-" you add, breathless and needy which only fuels his desire. "I l-like it, I like how it feels..."

"This is excellent progress, I'm proud of you," he praises, a hint of a devious smile ticking the corner of his lip. "try putting a finger in, there you go..."

his eyes narrow as you sink your middle finger into your hole. you gasp in slight shock, taken aback that you actually enjoyed the tiny stretch. nanami nearly snaps the pen his half. knowing full well that the length and thickness of his fingers would do far, far better.

you pump in and out, so slowly like you're trying to figure out what pacing you prefer. "doctor kento," you moan, though you are not addressing him with anything specific except to simply call out his name.

his cock twitches.

he takes his glasses off, and folds it neatly between his pressed shirt. he closes his notebook, the page filled with mindless scribbles that he put together to distract himself from being aroused by you.

"when we discussed your sex life prior to your marriage, you mentioned you enjoyed receiving oral," he states.

you gaze up at him with doe eyes from underneath your lashes, finger fucking yourself tenderly as you shake your head in confirmation.

he gets up from his seat, takes a few steps closer as he carefully rolls up his sleeve. he kneels before you, the afternoon light sparkling against his golden hair. his face far too close to your cunt.

"a more manual approach might do you some good," he mumbles, his large palms reaching for your plush thighs.

the heat burns behind your ears and down your neck, your muscles in your lower belly start quivering with delight and anticipation.

"you're gorgeous, by the way," he admits, dropping his professional mask and allowing his inner thoughts to speak on his behalf. "it's a shame your ex couldn't appreciate that..."

he moves on hand to circle around your wrist and draws it away from your soaking cunt. he brings your shaking fingers to his lips to taste your essence before releasing you with a pop.

"so sweet," he purrs. he drops your wrist, his hands smoothing over your inner thigh and over the curve of your pelvis. when he looks up at you, you almost don't recognize the devilish expression on the face of such a gentleman. "you deserve to feel this good. may I?"

you melt into the pillow behind you, your heart pounding so hard against your chest it makes the room around you spin.

"we'll go for as long as you can handle. alright, sweetheart?"

"yes, doctor kento"

"good girl," he murmurs, the depth of his voice making you tremble in your seat. "such a good girl..."

your eyes roll to the back of your head, a cry leaving your lips that sounds like an ache when he brings his tongue to your sex and drags upward along the glittering slit.

no more secrets x

[steveseddie]

full circle

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,8k | cw: mention of throwing up | tags: pre-season 4, different first meetings, eddie is afraid of heights, steve is a sweetheart, holding hands, first kiss

for week one of @softsteddieseptember using the prompt “facing your fears” 

read on ao3 here

Jeff and Gareth stumble out of the Ferris Wheel and Eddie snorts out a laugh.  

Jeff is struggling to keep them both upright as Gareth leans all of his weight on him, his face alarmingly green. Jeff manages to get them to the picnic table where Eddie is sitting without Gareth barfing but when he plops down next to Eddie he scoots away, putting some distance between them just in case. 

“Shouldn’t’ve gone on the Ferris Wheel after swallowing three fucking corn dogs, Gare,” Eddie sniggers, taking a drag of the cig he’d been smoking while his two friends were spinning fifty feet from the ground. 

“Don’t-” Gareth mumbles, cutting himself off with a gagging sound that makes Eddie sit on top of the table just to put more space between them. “Don’t mention corn dogs. Or food,” he finishes meekly, hunching forward and burying his face in his hands.  

Jeff gives him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s your fault, man,” he tells Eddie, who gasps, affronted by the accusation. “If you didn’t fuck off to go take a piss then Gareth wouldn’t’ve had to go on it with me.” 

Eddie shrugs, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Whatcha want me to say, Jeff? When you gotta go, you gotta go.” 

(The truth is Eddie didn’t have to go. 

He lied about it and then wandered around the fairgrounds aimlessly until he was certain Jeff and Gareth had gone on the Ferris Wheel.

Because Eddie is terrified of heights, a fact no one but his uncle is aware of given how cool and unmetal it is.)

“Ugh, I gotta go,” Gareth grumbles, stumbling over to some bushes before throwing up all over them. 

Eddie recoils with a grimace. “Dude!”  

Gareth pulls himself together. He wipes his mouth and glares at him over his shoulder. “Shut up, Ed, you wouldn’t be doing any better if it was you who went up-” He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Eddie. “Wait, how come I’ve never seen you go on the Ferris Wheel?” 

Oh crap. 

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie shrugs, lying as convincingly as he can. “Many times.”

Jeff studies him curiously. “No, no, Gare, is right. We’ve been coming here for three years and you’ve never been on it with us!”

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie insists. “Just you know with other people.” 

They both snort. “Oh yeah?” Jeff asks. “Who?” 

“Yeah, Eddie, you don’t have any other friends,” Gareth adds. 

“I do!” Eddie protests, waving his hands like it will make names appear out of thin air. “I have Freak!”

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “What’s his real name?” 

“Uh-” Eddie shrugs. “Freak?” 

Gareth shakes his head. The color is back on his face but Eddie wishes he’d go back to hurling his guts out. “If I didn’t know any better, Eddie, I’d say you’re afraid to go on it.” 

“Pfffft,” Eddie slaps his knee with a laugh. “I am not.”

“Prove it then,” Gareth says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” 

“Go on the Ferris Wheel now.”

“Uh, can I finish my cig first?” Eddie asks, trying to stall.

But his friends won’t let him. “No,” they say at the same time. 

Well, shit.

“Ugh, fiiiiiine,” Eddie says, throwing his arms up in a tantrum before snuffing the cig against the table.

He stands up and, flanked by his two friends, starts walking towards the Ferris Wheel. As he does, he considers the pros and cons of fleeing- he’s gotten very good at running from people and neither Gareth nor Jeff are as quick as some of the jocks he’s had to outrun before.

But Eddie realizes he might not need to run away when they reach the line just as the guy manning the ride opens the last car to let the last two people in.

“Won’t you look at that!” Eddie whirls around, clapping his hands together. “It’s full! Oh well, there’s always next year!” 

He throws his arms around Jeff and Gareth and starts dragging them away. Only for them to stop in their tracks when there’s a voice behind them. 

“We have one spot left!” The guy announces. “One spot left! Who wants to ride?” 

Gareth whirls around. “He does!” He says, pointing at Eddie who curses inwardly. “He’ll do it. Right, Eddie?” 

Through gritted teeth, Eddie mutters ‘if you insist’ because what other fucking choice does he have?

He makes his way to the front of the line like a man stepping into the gallows, jaw clenched and hands balled up into fists at his sides pausing again just as he’s about to get on. 

Because sitting on the Ferris Wheel car is no other than Steve fucking Harrington.

He wants to do this even less now knowing that Harrington will be sitting next to him as he tries not to shit his pants. The last thing he wants is the King of Hawkins High to go around sharing that with everyone.

“Dude, are you getting in or not?” The guy asks when Eddie just stands there, an annoyed tilt to his voice. 

Eddie glances over his shoulder to find Gareth and Jeff giving him two thumbs up, matching smirks on their faces. He flips them off, ignoring the scandalized gasp from a mother waiting in line with her son. 

Then he glances back at the car- at Harrington, who is staring at him with an impatient bitchy look. The King probably isn’t happy about sharing a Ferris Wheel car with the Freak.

Yeah, well, the feeling is fucking mutual. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going in,” Eddie says anyway, sliding into his seat. He does his best to ignore Harrington as the guy lowers the safety bar on their laps- as well as the dread that has settled on his belly. 

It only grows as they start moving. 

“Enjoy your ride,” the guy tells them with fake cheerfulness. 

Eddie fights the urge to flip him off too. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, grabbing the safety bar with a death grip as their car starts to rise. They keep rocking back and forth and Eddie’s stomach falls out of his ass every time. “Fuck me.” 

Next to him, Harrington lets out a snort. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson.”

Eddie snaps his head towards him- Harrington is leaning back against his seat with a smirk, seemingly not caring at all about the fact that they’re about to be thirty feet from the ground. Asshole.

“Hardy-har-har, Harrington,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying not to let his voice waver.

As far as comebacks go, it’s a lame one and Harrington must notice. “Geez, man. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.” 

Harrington glances down at Eddie’s hands on the safety bar with a pointed look. “Really? Because you look like you’re trying to snap that bar in half.”

Eddie glances down and sees that he’s white-knuckling the safety bar. He loosens his hold a little. “I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Mind your own business, Your Majesty.” 

“Christ, Munson, what’s your problem?” Harrington huffs out a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh. “And don’t call me that. You don’t hear me calling you Freak.”

To Eddie, they’re not the same. He thought someone like Harrington would enjoy being reminded about his popular status in high school- even if Eddie’s tone is mocking. But it seems the whole King thing struck a nerve.

“My problem is-” Eddie starts, meaning to tell Harrington that it’s him even if Eddie hasn’t had a problem with him in particular since he graduated but then their car jerks and his words trail off into a whimper. 

“This fucking deathtrap, shit. Okay, I’m not fine,” he admits, eyes screwed shut as they reach the top. “I'm like terrified of heights, okay? Which is fucking lame and super unmetal of me so go ahead, laugh it up.”

He waits to hear it- Harrington’s laugh but there’s only silence. 

Eddie peeks at him through one eye.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Harrington says, his eyebrows knitted in a way that’s frankly kinda cute. 

Cute? Jesus Christ, Eddie, not the time.

“Why not?” He asks. “It’s what you jocks do.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t been a jock for a while, man.”

Eddie guesses that’s true. Even before he graduated, Harrington had stopped being a jock under Eddie’s definition of the word. He still played basketball, but he didn’t pick on Eddie or the other nerds and now he’s not laughing at him for being afraid of heights even though if the roles were reversed Eddie would probably get a few laughs in himself. 

Maybe he should cut Harrington some slack.

“Why are you riding the Ferris Wheel anyway?” He asks after a short silence. “If you don’t like heights?” 

Another mind your own business rests at the tip of Eddie’s tongue but he did just say he’d cut him some slack. Besides, Eddie is slowly realizing that talking to Harrington is helping keep him distracted from where they are right now. 

“Well, my friends think I’m scared-”

“You are,” Harrington interjects with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Eddie accepts with an eye roll even if he feels his mouth tick up. “But they don’t need to know that, I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“With your friends?”

“With my friends, the school.” Eddie clicks his tongue. “ Society.”

Harrington snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Well, I won’t tell society,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

He bumps their shoulders together and it makes the car tip forward. Eddie bites down on a very embarrassing scream. Harrington grimaces. “Shit, sorry.” 

“Why are you- why are you riding the Ferris Wheel?” Eddie asks. “You can’t possibly enjoy this, man.”

“It’s not so bad,” Harrington shrugs. “I like the view, especially at sunset.”

“Ah,” Eddie smiles teasingly. “I bet you bring all the pretty girls up here, hold their hand if they get scared.” 

Harrington raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I hold your hand, Munson?” 

Is he? Eddie looks down at Steve’s hands. They’re nice hands and Eddie has to admit that the thought of holding one of them right now doesn’t exactly make him want to jump off this car. 

It makes his heat build in his cheeks actually. “Fuck off, no, I’m-” 

“Because I would,” Harrington interjects, “if you wanted me to.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I- uh. You- no, you wouldn’t.” 

Harrington tilts his head, watching Eddie with a mixture of amusement and something else. If Eddie didn’t know any better he’d say Harrington finds it endearing- how nervous Eddie is. What the hot fuck?

Harrington holds out his hand, palm up, in the space between them. 

Eddie can only stare at it like it’s going to bite him or like Harrington is going to jerk it back and laugh at him for falling for the joke. He does neither. He wiggles his fingers and Eddie, who might be oxygen-deprived from the height, lets go of the bar with one hand, wipes it on his jeans, and grabs Harrington’s. 

He links their fingers together loosely and gives Eddie a little half-smirk, half-smile that he bets left a girl or two giggling back in the day. Right now it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in a wildly different way than being this far from the ground does. 

The ground, which is currently far, far away. Shit. The reminder makes him grip Harrington’s hand tighter and it’s really nice- warm and soft instead of cold and hard like the safety bar. Eddie looks down at their joined hands, and focuses on that- on how big Steve’s hand is and how many freckles are dusted over the back of it, how he doesn’t seem to mind that Eddie’s rings are probably digging painfully into his skin with how hard he’s holding on to him. 

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a shaky laugh. “Um, thanks, man, for not laughing and like, not being a dick about this.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be less of a dick these days.”

“And how’s that working out for ya?” 

Harrington’s nose scrunches up. “I’m alone at the Ferris Wheel, Eddie, so what do you think?” 

Eddie chuckles. “Oh, so what am I? Chopped liver?”

“No!” Harrington counters quickly. “Just not who I thought I’d end up riding the Ferris Wheel with.”

“Oh how you wound me, Steve,” Eddie says with an exaggerated pout. 

“Shut up, you’re the one who’s wounding me,” he says playfully, using his free hand to gesture at where his other one is still trapped by Eddie’s. “Think you’re cutting off circulation to my hand.” 

Eddie loosens his hold a little, his cheeks pinking up again. “Fuck, sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Steve says, giving it a squeeze. “Robin and I went to see this gross movie once called The Thing and I’m pretty sure I almost lost all my fingers from how hard she was gripping my hand.” 

Eddie blinks. “Robin Buckley? From band?” He asks and Steve nods. “I didn’t know you two were friends or is it- are you two like-” 

Jesus, why do you even care, Munson? Talk about minding your own business. 

“Oh no,” Steve replies even if Eddie didn’t finish the question. “I love Robin, but she’s just my friend. My best friend. It’s tectonic.” 

Eddie tilts his head. “Do- do you mean platonic?” 

“Yeah, that,” Steve says, snapping his fingers and shooting a single finger gun in his direction. “She’s actually down there somewhere with- um, with someone else.” 

“Oh, Steve,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You’re third-wheeling your band nerd best friend? How the mighty have fallen truly.” 

Steve groans, throwing his head back but not before Eddie sees how his mouth twitches. “It gets worse, dude. I’m also here babysitting a bunch of fourteen-year-olds who are also nerds. Except for Max, she’s cool, she doesn’t play that- dorks and dweebs game the others are obsessed with.”

“Hold on, I’m sorry, do you mean Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie sputters, trying to wrap his head around everything he’s learning about Steve- horror movie enjoyer, nerd-sympathizer, a babysitter who sort of knows what Dungeons and Dragons is.

Steve purses his lips. “I think I like my name better.”

“Sure, buddy,” Eddie says with a snort. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you that I run an after-school club for that game so by hanging out with me your cool-o-meter just took an even bigger nose dive.”

“Well, goddamn it, Munson,” Steve says jokingly. 

“Bet you wish you got stuck with a pretty girl instead of me, huh, big boy?”

Steve falters at the name that truth be told slipped out of Eddie’s mouth without him realizing. A slight pink tinge shades his cheeks.

It’s nothing compared to the deep shade of red Eddie’s cheeks turn when Steve says, “Actually being stuck with a pretty boy is fine by me.”

A nearly hysterical laugh rushes from Eddie’s lips before he can help it. “A pretty- uh. What?” His heart is doing summersaults in his chest and Eddie tries hard to get it to calm down. Steve could be fucking with him. Fuck, is he? “Are you- Steve. Harrington. Are you fucking with me? ‘Cause you might’ve graduated and you might not be a jock anymore but I know you know what your teammates called me, man, you know I’m- and you fucking with me like that is not cool-”

“Woah, Eddie, hey. I’m not,” Steve assures him, pretty brown eyes wide like a startled deer. “It’s true, okay? You are pretty.”

Oh. 

An ugly strangled noise escapes Eddie. “Oh. Okay. Uh.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and shifts nervously in the seat. “Fuck, just forget I said that, I didn’t want to make things weird, okay? Just- yeah, forget it.”

“Who says I want to?” 

Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle. Cute, Eddie thinks again. Oh, maybe it was the time after all. “Um, your face, man? You look like I splashed you with water and then threw a toaster at you or something.” 

“That’s- that’s actually a good way to describe how I feel, yeah,” Eddie agrees. Steve cringes slightly. “Not in a bad way! I’m just surprised! I didn’t know you-” liked boys? liked freaks? liked me?

Whatever he means, Steve gets it. “Yeah, I do,” he says, the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s fine if you don’t or whatever-”

Eddie opens his mouth to assure him he does in fact like boys and freaks and Steve who might be a freak himself if this Ferris Wheel ride has taught Eddie anything-

Before he can though the Ferris Wheel screeches to a halt, their car rocking in place at the top. 

“Why- why are we stopping? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “It’s the last spin, they’re probably gonna stop each cart at the top for a few minutes.”

Eddie whines pathetically. “What? Why?”

“So people can watch the sunset? Make out?” Steve blushes. “Or something.”

The wind picks up and makes the car rock back and forth and Eddie groans. “Fucking great!”

“Hey, what do you need?” Steve asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. It’s almost enough to distract him from being stuck at the top. Almost. 

“To be back on solid ground? Or a distraction. Please distract me, Stevie,” Eddie says, feeling panic bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t even notice when the nickname slips out. 

Steve’s eyes flick over his face looking for something. He either finds it or gives up. Either way, he takes a deep breath. “Please don’t punch me for this.” 

“Punch you for-”

The last word dies in Eddie’s throat because Steve leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

For a beat, neither of them does anything. Then Steve’s free hand cups Eddie’s cheek and he moves his lips. Eddie makes a soft, needy noise in the back of his throat, his eyelids fluttering shut, and then he’s kissing Steve back. 

It’s a slow and lazy kiss but it’s enough to make Eddie forget where he is or that he’s supposed to be panicking. He even lets go of the safety bar just so he can get his fingers in Steve’s hair. 

They don’t break apart until the Ferris Wheel starts moving again, their car making its way down so they can finally get off this stupid thing. 

(Though it might be starting to grow on Eddie. Just a little.)

When they stop again so that the people in the next car can have their go at the top, Eddie’s stomach merely swoops and it might have more to do with the way Steve licks his pink, wet lips than with anything else. 

“Well, that’s one way to distract someone,” Eddie says, his voice coming out a little breathless. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve snorts, hanging a hand from his neck. “Thanks for not punching me.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby,” Eddie says and watches delightedly how a flush creeps up Steve’s cheeks at the pet name. “I’d never punch you, your face is too pretty for that.”

A startled laugh tumbles from Steve’s lips. “So I could kiss you again?”

“I could be persuaded to do that again, yeah.” Eddie tilts his head, eyes darting a little anxiously over Steve’s face. “First I gotta know if this is like a ‘what happens in the Ferris Wheel stays in the Ferris Wheel’ kind of thing, you know?”

“Nah,” Steve says with a smile that edges on soft. “I was actually gonna drag you with me to the Hoop Shot game after this. Impress you a little.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks, grinning widely. “Gonna impress me with your jock moves?”

“Mhm. By winning you a stuffed animal too.”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, I told you, I have a reputation to uphold-”

“With society, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll get you something metal like a bat! Or a dragon.”

“Hm,” Eddie taps his finger against his chin. “Get me both and it’s a deal!”

Steve’s eyes twinkle. “Does that mean I get two kisses?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pitching his voice low and deep. Steve’s eyes widen slightly. “You can have way more than that.” 

They’re almost at the bottom now which is probably why Steve doesn’t lean in for another kiss right then and there when it’s clear that he wants to. This close to the ground, people could see and the last thing they want is an angry mob waiting for them at the bottom. 

They’re happy to just hold hands for what’s left of the ride. Despite Eddie not being scared anymore, neither of them considers letting go, not until the guy from before yanks the safety bar off their laps, stares curiously at their clasped hands for a second before his expression turns bored again, and waves them out of the car. 

Eddie climbs out and jogs down the steps, past the people waiting in line. His eyes dart over the people hanging around the Ferris Wheel, looking for Gareth and Jeff but his friends must’ve gotten bored and wandered off at some point because they’re nowhere to be seen. Whatever, he was gonna ditch them to hang out with Steve anyway. 

But Steve gets the wrong idea when he sees Eddie scanning the crowd. He scruffs his Nike against the ground and hangs a hand from his neck. “It’s okay if you wanna find your friends-”

“Fuck, no,” Eddie says quickly. “They’re big boys, they can get home on their own. Or not and it serves them right for forcing me to go on that deathtrap!”

“Oh, come on,” Steve says with a playful grin. 

“Fine, I guess it wasn’t that bad,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “What about you? You don’t have to find your baby nerds and make sure they’re okay?”

“Nope, those shitheads can take care of themselves,” Steve says. “I have more important things to do.”

“Like me?” Eddie asks with a ridiculous waggle of his eyebrows. It makes Steve tip his head back with a laugh. Eddie’s eyes zero in on the moles in the column on his neck, thoughts drifting to wanting to kiss every single one of them. 

“Maybe later,” he tells Eddie with a wink. His stomach swoops and this time it has nothing to do with gravity and heights. “C’mon, man, let’s get you that bat.”

Eddie holds his finger up, wagging it in front of Steve’s face. “And the dragon!” Eddie says, getting all up in Steve’s space as he starts walking in the direction of the Hoop Shot game. “Don’t forget the dragon!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Munson.”

(Steve gets him the bat. And the dragon. And cotton candy. And later follows Eddie home after dropping off his herd of fourteen-year-olds. Eddie lets him have two kisses and more just like he promised.)

(And he rides more than just the Ferris Wheel that day.)

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hades x Reader || Drabble

Plot: He's a villain; So you would- could never, ever fall in love with him.

'Sooner or later you're gonna want it. And the second- the second that happens, you know I'll sup in; have myself a real good day.' - Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

... But he'll still wait patiently, for you.

Warnings: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Mischaracterisation?

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @miss_understood , and @yesthetrashbin .

The instant that you see the villain in your house, waiting for you again lounging on your bed, smoke spread all over the floor; you groan. "Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh- "

Hades only shows a flicker or irritation by your obnoxiously drawn-out moan, before its snuffed out with a roll of his shoulders and he gets up from your bed. Now his head grazes the ceiling but he comes here so often, asking you on walks with him and bringing you dinner you couldn't have scrounged for yourself with a weeks pay despite how many time's you've told him no, never, so you're past the fear of him setting the house on fire. His yellow eyes glow in the dim room and, like always, it causes a little warmth to spready in the pit of your belly- you ignore it. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be gone in a sec, okay babe? I got places to be today, anyway. Just gimmie a minute, here."

"Why should I?"

"Uh- " This time real frustration passes over his face; settling for a few moments as he speaks. "Well you don't have that much of a choice, doya babe? So just shut up and listen, eh?"

Not-at-all scared, you just roll your eyes, setting your basket down on the side table and crossing your arms impatiently over your chest. "Fine. What do you want? I don't see any exotic fruits... another walk?"

Here, a smirk slips over his mouth; The flames atop his head give a happy crackle, and he gently shakes his head. "Not this time. Unless, I mean- you want to?? I can reschedule my meeting with the Fates, if you- " When he reads your expression, a familiar and cold 'hell no' written all over it, he sighs. Disappointed, but... not surprised at all, anymore. "Right. Right- uh, look babe. I just came here to let ya know, I... "

Hades? Lost for words?? That almost concerns you. Almost makes you lower your freezing cold exterior, and ask- ... but no. No. Instead, you tighten your arms over your chest and increase the impatient, expectant look in your eyes. Like, hurry up.

"... Okay. Look. I like you, (Full name). I might even go so far as to say I'm fallin' for ya- and thats new to me. I'm lost in some really unfamiliar waters, here," He chuckles, nervously, looking truly out of his depth for a moment. "Thats never happened to me before, this is new, and I- I- I'm tryin' to do it right. Sweep you off your feet; all that romantic jazz. Which I honestly think is kinda psychotic-... But uh... " His eyes lift from somewhere on the ground to your left, up to your eyes and he gives you another half-smirk. "I think we both know its not my thing."

... breaking your silence for a moment, you give a little tiny nod; not sure where this is going. "We do." You say quietly.

"Yea. Well, between you and me- its not workin' as well as you'd think, is it?"

"... no."

"Right, so," He rolls those broad shoulders again, giving his neck an uncomfortable stretch. "I'm uh- I'm gonna stop trying."

That gives you pause. " -What??"

"-not that I'm done here, exactly, no no no. I don't give up so easy, sweetheart. I'm gonna be here, or well- around. Waiting. And some day if... And someday when, you decide ya want me, then I'll come for ya. Just call."

Eyebrows furrowing, you suddenly remember something Hades said earlier. You'd almost forgotten it, because it seemed unimportant before, but now seems significant. "... Why are you going to meet with the fates?" Does he... know something? Is going to ask something?? What-

He just grins, infuriatingly. And his body begins to disappear into smoke, and your eyes widen- because- wait! "Remember what I just told you, babe. Keep it in mind, mull it over. I got nothin but time and I don't mind using it waiting on you. You're kinda worth it, eh?" -He didn't answer your question!

"But!- "

"Lookin' forward to your call, sweetheart."

"I'm not gonna call!- "

"Uhuh."

[namikawa]

— [the perfect host]

featuring: s. geto, s. gojo

cw: smut, implied threesome, cunnulingus, implied m/m, phone sex (?), daddy kink (ofc), established relationship (reader & gojo), fingering, fem reader, chubby reader, getting “caught” masturbating, use of the word cunt (sorry lol), aftercare, not proofread fr, anything else i forgot lolz, pet names (mama, baby, pretty, sweetheart, love). wc: n/a.

notes: this is actually a fic my friend wrote (never published) & i re did it with two diff characters & finished it for her cause she never did… so if yall like it GO TO HER BLOG ILL TAG HER. this wasn’t my og idea i just wrote the smut and tweaked & added. but enjoy pls, sorry i haven’t posted in so long life has beat me up. @nvmjccnluv !!!

“so explain to me why i’m watching her again, she seems completely capable of staying in your apartment alone yknow.” suguru questions over the phone. it’s not that he hates you, but what if he was busy? he wasn’t, but gojo didn’t need to know that, he didn’t even ask to be fair. quickly dropping you off after handing the long haired man a small bag of your things.

on the other end of the phone gojo lets out a huff of laughter. “had a few things to finish up, she gets too lonely when i leave her at home so i didn’t want her getting into things. you know how it is.”

“i actually don’t, but okay man.”

“anyway, she doesn’t like many people but she didn’t seem to mind you the last time we hung out, you seemed like a safe option.” gojo continues, sounding a bit strained.

“okay, whatever, fine.”

“where’s she at anyways? if she was with you she would’ve jumped your bones to get to the phone.”

walking toward the the closed door in the hallway, geto chuckles before reassuring his friend. “relax dude, she’s in the room taking a na- holy shit.”

-

“what happened??”

the dark haired man places his ear on the door to make sure he’s not hallucinating, not saying that he’s hoping to be.

muffled moans greet his ears, but not muffled enough evidently. no, you wanted him to hear. he would have to pass by your room anyways, given that you two would be sharing a wall for the night. but him being on the phone with your boyfriend was just a coincidence, an extremely embarrassing one.

he listens to your soft whines and high pitched whimpers for what feels like days, though its hasn’t even been half a minute, paying no mind to the man yelling at him on the phone.

“SUGURU? ANSWER ME! IS SHE OKAY? I SWEAR IF SOMETHING HAPPE-” at this point geto tries to think as hard as possible to come up with a lie that won’t get him killed by his friend.

snapping out of his daze, he finally gets enough courage to respond, “yeah um i’m pretty sure, maybe i’m wrong, i think she’s uh masturbating.”

“oh, oh okay” suguru can basically hear a smirk he knows all to well forming on gojos mouth. “don’t be a rude host, go help her out man.”

what the fuck is he talking about help you out? he can’t be understanding that this is his girlfriend he’s talking about, right? on top of that, shouldn’t he be asking you for consent as well.

“are you insane man? i know you’re into all that weird shit, but her? she’d probably kill me before i even got close to the bed and throw my dead body out of my own apartment.” as nice as it sounds he didn’t know if you’d be okay with any of this. he wasn’t going to just walk straight in, right?

there’s a loud howl that comes directly from the other end of the phone. “are you really being this much of a pussy right now? i’m giving you full permission to go help my girl out, and you wanna whine about how she might kill y-”

“shut the hell up man, i didn’t say anything about being a pussy.”

“alright, then there shouldn’t be an issue with you helping her out. don’t sit up on your high horse and act like you haven’t thought about it before, i know just how those perverted thoughts of yours work, don’t you rememb-”

“okay okay shut up satoru, im going.”

pushing open the door, the first thing geto notices is your hand rubbing lightly between your soft thighs and how your wetness soaks the bed, clear evidence of how needy you were. how long have you been at it?

gojo can hear you so clearly over the phone, he might as well be in the room with you, “shit, is that her pussy i’m hearing? whats it look like?” he questions, but unfortunately for him he receives no answer.

suguru is too busy enjoying the view and listening to the pathetic little sounds coming from your cunt. his sweatpants are slowly starting to fit a little tighter than before, but he doesn’t make any movements yet, just in case you don’t wanna play this little game.

almost immediately your soft eyes flutter open and lock into his, and he swears he just came in his pants.

“sugi, please, it hurts so much,” you whine out to him, desperate for his veiny hands on you. your own hand never seems to falter though, only moving in more erratic circles around your sensitive clit; while your other hand is busy touching your nipples, trying to get the most stimulation possible.

knowing that you were just as needy for him as he was for you made the man’s confidence peak. he gives you a light smile as he walks closer to the bed, softly sitting down next to you. he leans over you a bit, close enough to where you can smell the minty, almost overpowering, scent of his shampoo. half his hair loosely tied up in a bun, the other half falling past his shoulders as he looks down at you.

“something wrong, pretty? those fingers not doing enough for you, right? don’t ‘cha wanna wait for your boyfriend to come back so he can help you out, he’s on the phone you know.”

his soft hands begin to work at your thighs, but it seems like it’ll never be any more than that. continuing for a little longer, he presses the speaker button on his phone, handing it over to you as you pull away from your core.

“can you hear me, sweetheart?” gojo asks, now finally getting some time to speak to you after being ignored for so long. “i gave sugi permission to help you out, okay? does that sound alright to you?” he utilizes the small nickname you’d given his friend, innocently coercing you to be good.

you give a small “mmm” in agreement. then, opening your legs, you grab at suguru’s hand and place it between your thighs, just barely touching your cunt.

gojo continues, smiling to himself on the other side of the device. “‘kay. i’m gonna talk you through it, just so i know you’re treating my girl right. take two of your fingers and stuff it inside of her, she’ll clench up at first but just keep working at it and she’ll open up, okay? maybe if you do good, you can have something too.”

geto lets out an annoyed breath, short, but just long enough for gojo to catch it. he knows what that means. what’s even stopping him from fucking you in first place? it’s not like gojo would know. but as he looks into your pleading eyes he realizes he’d do anything to make sure you’re content and happy.. even if that means listening to satoru’s perverted requests.

his fingers slide down to rub at your clit just a bit, before burying his pointer and ring finger deep into your cunt, you clench so tight around him, it makes him feel like he’s dreaming the way your teeth suck at your bottom lip attempting to hide your whines.

“cmon pretty, open up for me. promise i’ll make you feel good, okay?”

a throaty whimper slides from between your lips as geto���s fingers work you open. “‘s good sugi, please like that more.” you scoot down a little more, chasing his fingers to get even just a little more stimulation.

“next you’re gonna press on her clit, just a little though she’s a sensitive little thing.” gojo groans out, it’s obvious he’s taken a break from his work to focus on… other things.

“yeah yeah, i know how to use my fingers, asshole.” suguru voices, clearly annoyed. although, he still abides by the instructions and moves his thumb to press on your clit just a tiny bit. your back arches away from his fingers almost immediately, like a natural instinct, he grabs your plush hips with his other hand, pulling you back down. “nuh uh, c’mere sweet girl, you wanted my help you’re gonna get it.”

his delicate fingers curve upward into you and you feel as if you’re floating on cloud nine, the way he flicks them at just the right speed while managing to hold you down and deepen his movements. it’s all too much for him you.

the sound of gojo’s voice breaks geto out of his daze, “fuck, i gotta go suguru. i know you’ll take care of her. i’m gonna have to cut this shit short, i’ll try to come back later tonight instead of tomorrow morning. love you guys, love you baby, be good for sugi okay?” geto’s eyes immediately flicker to yours, and you see just a little bit of what you think could be fear, or excitement, in his eyes.

“bye daddy, love you too.” you whine out, hearing a quick click before the call ends.

“daddy?” he questions. “knew he was into some shit, didn’t know you were too, sweet girl. you’re too pretty and innocent, or at least you put up a good act.” his fingers slide out of you as he snickers, not ignoring the way you pout at the loss of stimuli.

“nah, not gonna leave you here all needy don’t worry mama, just gonna do it my way, that sound good to you?” geto grabs you by your hips as you choke out a small “yea”, pushing you closer to the headboard of the bed. he fully removes his hair tie and throws all of it up into a bun, swiftly grabbing your underwear and pulling it off.

you look down at him as he crawls closer to you on his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs and closing them around his head. you feel his fingers spread your cunt apart, licking a long stripe onto you. your body tenses up, and on instinct your hand finds its way into suguru’s hair, tugging lightly. his head perks up at you, smiling, but eventually just deciding to leave you be.

his tongue swipes over your clit, taking small breaths occasionally as he tastes your cunt. neither one of you know who this is really for at this point. he’s supposed to be ‘helping you’ but with the tent growing in his sweats he might as well be doing this for his own pleasure instead. you continue to take harsh pulls at his dark strands, so unfamiliar to you. mostly with satoru you opted for scratching at his shoulders or gripping at the sheets due to the length he kept his hair, but this, this was something you could get used to.

“sugi please, m so close, want it so bad, need you to make me cum.” you cry out, loving the way his nose rubs against your clit as he licks.

he doesn’t say anything, he can’t really, but you know he understands. he grips your thighs tighter, licking the same way as before, occasionally sucking at your clit, and before you know it you’re squirming all over his face as that familiar feeling rushes over you.

the only thing that suguru could make out of your cries were “thank you”, “so good”, and “daddy”? he wasn’t sure if you were calling him daddy or if you wanted gojo, but at this point it didn’t really matter to him. he pleased you and that’s all he needed to make him feel better.

as he lifted his head up from your pussy he could already tell how tired you were getting, he immediately grabbed you a change of clothes that gojo had packed and cleaned you up with a wet washcloth. “everything okay, mama? need anything?” your eyes strain open and you smile at the man standing above you, “i’m okay, thank you for your help. will you stay?” you could tell that he genuinely cared for you, and was worried he had done something wrong by the tone in his voice. him staying was more for him rather than yourself, not that you were complaining.

he pulled off his shirt as he crawled into bed next to you. grabbing his phone from the bedside table he saw that gojo had sent him a message.

“i’ll take care of you both when i’m back, cause i’m betting you didn’t take anything for yourself. see you both soon ;)”

suguru chuckled to himself at the message from his friend, looking down at you peacefully sleeping on his chest. maybe he could get used to something like this? but for now, he’s content.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 4 - You Might Be The Same As Me

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we exit the “enemies” phase, think of the enemies to friends as the match being lit and think of the friends to lovers as the candle taking thousands of words to burn. Chapter title from Homemade Dynamite by Lorde

Word Count: 6.9k (nice)

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Things start to change in the safe house. Contains usual tags.

Read on A03!

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Somehow, after the mission, you slept. Not well, but you did. You didn’t see Soldier Boy for almost fourteen hours after that odd moment in your room, only for him to suddenly drop on the couch next to you, watching the newly-fixed TV, holding a bowl and spoon.

“What the fuck is this,” he gestured to show playing on the screen, his mouth half-full with cereal. Crumbs fell into his beard, and he looked at the TV as if it had personally offended him.

You answered slowly, glancing between his loud, sloppy chews and the milk in his bowl, sloshing up to the sides as he settled into his seat. “Netflix.”

“That’s a stupid name for a show,” he snorted. “What does that even fucking mean?”

You shook your head. “No, the show is called Santa Clarita Diet. I’m watching it on Netflix.” He gave you a glance with a frown but remained silent, raising his eyebrows as you stared blankly.

His voice was clipped when he spoke. “What the fuck is Netflix?”

“Oh, um, it’s like a network. Like a modern TV station. It has a bunch of movies and shows, but you don’t have to wait for a certain time to watch them.”

“Huh,” he looked back to the TV. “Cocksucker mentioned something like that. I thought he was making shit up.”

“No, on demand is a pretty common thing now.” You shrugged.

“So all TV is on Newflux?”

“Netflix,” you corrected, growing more and more bemused by the conversation. “And no. We kind of just reinvented cable in a different format. There’s like a million of these websites, Vought even has their own. From what I can tell, the CIA gave us Netflix, Max, Disney, and Prime.”

“They’ll do that, but they won’t buy me weed,” he grumbled. “Fucking uptight pussies.”

“Yeah, well. They didn’t get us ad-free Disney or Prime, so I wouldn’t hold your breath about them giving you drug money.”

Soldier Boy only grunted, attention fixated on the TV. The silence between you stretched as you tried to figure out a perfect, organic way to bring up the whole “I told you what Homelander did to me and you put away groceries without me asking, what the fuck is happening” thing. Just as you were about to say something, hoping that the words would find you in the moment, you were cut off.

“What the fuck is this even about?” Soldier Boy asked with a sullen voice, still not looking away from the show.

“Uh, suburban zombies. I can change it if you want.” Anything, you thought, to keep this lack of antagonistic conversation going.

“No.” You waited for more elaboration but realized he wasn’t going to offer any, having fully turned away from you. You both remained on the couch, his eyes locked to screen as you remained in your seat, afraid to move and ruin whatever was happening.

The episode ended without any outbursts from either you or Soldier Boy, and you reached for the remote, only to be hit in the head by a soggy cheerio.

“What the hell?” You picked the cereal from your hair, turning to see Soldier Boy’s frustratingly casual expression. “What was that?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, nodding his head to where your hand had been on the remote.

“Why did you throw cereal at me?!” You snapped, holding the now mushy projectile to his face.

“To get your attention,” he answered, giving you an odd look. “You always get all bitchy when I touch you.”

“Oh.” You hesitated, your confusion only growing. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I can’t read your fucking mind. If it’s because of the Homelander thing, though, then you should remember-“

“No,” you rubbed your face in frustration. “Why did you need my attention?”

He rolled his eyes, as if it were obvious. “We’re going to keep watching this shit. It’s the least stupid thing I’ve seen so far. But you should fucking remember-“

“You could’ve just said that instead of throwing shit at me-“

“Would you fucking listen?” His familiar angry glare was beginning to form, so you closed your mouth. “If the touch thing is because of that Star-spangled pussyfuck Homelander, I meant what I fucking said last night.”

Your body tensed, trying to recall what he might be referencing. Last night, along with the previous twenty-four hours, had been replayed so much in your head it had become a simple blur of bad. "What you said?”

“I’m no rapist. I’m not an ugly pussy asshat who needs to.”

You look at him with an incredulous gape. “Needs to?”

“No part of sex is fun if she doesn’t want it. I like my woman begging me to keep going, and I only bite if they ask.” He gave you a brash grin. “I’ll show you whenever you want, Sunshine.”

“Charming,” you said under your breath, employing your now expert skills at ignoring his advances. “Would you like a trophy for the bare minimum?”

“I’m fucking serious.” He hissed, smile dropping, catching you off guard with the intensity and firmness of his expression. “If that’s why you’re so fucking annoying about me touching you, get over it.”

“Get over it?” You give a laugh of disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? First off, it has nothing to do with Homelander. Second off, if it did, I’m not going to just ‘get over it’ because this is 'annoying' for you.”

“Well then, what will make you get over it?” His question, though impatient, was said with a face of biting sincerity. At least, the closest thing to sincerity you deemed him capable of.

You tilted your head at him. “It’s not something I can get over.” Before he could respond, his mouth opening with a frown and squinted eyes, you continued. “It’s one of my powers. I can feel people’s emotions when I touch them, even if I don’t want to. I can’t turn it off, or ‘get over it’.”

His mouth remained open for another second, and you could almost see his brain slowly turning in his head. You waited, your own mind spinning with possible reactions he might meet you with. Wrathful shouting, angered distrust, cold disgust, forceful words and distance.

“Do you not like what you feel from me?” He asked, no twisted fury on his face, eyes filled with that analytical, intrusive look.

“No, that doesn’t matter to me. It's intrusive, and usually people don’t like when I do it, so I just avoid touching anyone.”

“But you can’t fucking control it.” His words didn’t seem to be directed at you, but his glare made it feel like they were. “It’s not your fucking fault all those pussies have so many fucking secrets.”

You give him a passive shrug. “Doesn’t matter. It’s still against their will.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” he mutters. “For fucks sake.”

You tilt your head at him, unable to place where his disbelief and frustration was coming from, even more unsure who was facing the brunt end of it. “I mean, it can’t be that insane that people don’t like it. It’s not like you’d want someone poking around inside your feelings.”

“Sunshine, of all the things to care about, that is one of the most fucking stupid things I’ve ever fucking heard. No, I don’t care about you ‘poking around inside my feelings’, because I’m not a fucking pussy with something to hide.” He gives you another odd look, accompanied by a pause before he spoke again. “Is that where your name comes from?”

“My, my name?” You feel yourself pale, still trying to fully grasp his previous declaration.

He watches you through narrowed eyes. “Your supe name. The Anomaly.”

Your blood might have evaporated, a petrifying cold running through you. “Don’t call me that.”

“I heard MM and the French Prick using it.” He looked slightly thrown by your response, but didn’t stop pushing. “Is it a fucking secret?”

“No,” you answer, trying to keep your voice level, your words acquiring a rambling quality. “It’s completely accurate. I couldn’t think of better one if I tried. Having fou-“ you cut off your slip. “Three completely unique powers on top of the usual supe-sauce is… anomalous. But I fucking hate it. I- I really hate it.” You trailed off, rubbing your arms uneasily.

“Why? It’s just a fucking name.” His voice was casual, almost bored, but he’d leaned forward with feet firmly on the ground, waiting for your answer with an impatient frown.

You’d frozen though, as white walls and straps, cold needles and cuts, and expressionless, masked people above you flashed in your head. Ghosts of fear the first time, devastation the second, emptiness the third, and fury the fourth echoed through your body. Moments of violating change and feelings of uncontrollable, off-balance infestation in your body that would haunt you for the rest of your life. You turned to Soldier Boy, who was still watching with a deep crease in his brow as the TV show played in white noise, and forced words from your chest, to your throat, and out of your mouth.

“If the Russians gave you a name, would you want people to use it?” You said carefully, and watched his first clench at your question, the bowl almost cracking under his grip.

He kept your gaze as he responded, a cool, rough brutality in his words. “I would fucking kill the pussy who was stupid enough to mention it.” You give him a pointed look, and watch the understanding slowly fall into place in his head. All that left him was a grunt, and he turned his body and focused back on the TV, the conversation abruptly over.

The afternoon slipped into evening, the evening into night, and hardly any more words were exchanged. You said good night as you stood to retreat to your room, and he gave a muttered acknowledgment in response. Your sleep was poor but long, and when you walked out into the hall the following morning, you found Soldier Boy standing right outside your door. His arms were crossed, one hand holding the TV remote, and he spoke the moment he saw you.

“Where the fuck is the rest of it?” His intense, demanding tone was far too firm for how early it was.

You gave him a droopy blink, noticing the same shirt and jeans from the day before. “Did you go to bed at all?”

“No. Where is it?” You try to move past him, but he moves to block your path. “Where?”

You rubbed your face, trying to squeeze out the lingering and puffy sleep. “I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“The show,” he spoke as if it were obvious, continuing to glower down at you as he waved the remote in your face. “You left, and then it was suddenly over and some weird fucking shit started playing. Fix it.”

You squint at him. “That show was canceled in, like, 2018. There isn’t any more.”

His expression was remarkably distressed. “Why the fuck would they do that?!”

“Netflix isn’t great at understanding popular demand,” you rub your eyes again as the dry of your mouth starts to fade. “But there’s like, an insane amount of shows out there. We can find something else.”

“Nothing else is good,” he grumbled. “All that played after was some stupid dating show. I had to watch a group of fucking idiots sit in rooms and whine about love all night.”

“You had to?” You roll your eyes with a snort. “What, did Butcher arrive with a gas mask and threaten to knock you out if you didn’t? If it’s so painful for you, just change it, or turn it off.”

He glares at your mockery, rubbing his neck as he mutters, “I don’t know how.”

"Huh?" His words had passed right through your ears as you tried and failed to keep your slugglish attention from drifting.

"I don't fucking know how," he practically barked, his face red as he refused to look at you. "It's my fucking fault technology is so fucking stupid now."

“Oh,” You feel a small amount of guilt as you realize that his scowl is one of embarrassment, his annoyed tone most likely rooted in frustration. “Wait, how have you been using it for two weeks?”

“I’d just hit buttons until something happened. It worked fine until you started that stupid Netflix shit.”

With a deep breath and sigh, you extend your hand for the remote. When he doesn’t move, you grab it from him with a tug and duck around him. “Follow me.”

Soldier Boy trails after you as you descend the stairs, stopping at your side as you reach the TV. You raise your arm to turn it off, but glance at his still-scrunched face, his bothered expression, and hand the remote back to him instead.

He stares down at his hands before looking back at the TV, then to you, his scowl only more confused. “Nothing fucking happened.”

“You’re going to do it.” You explain, pointing from the remote to the illuminated screen. “I’ll walk you through it, but you’re going to do it yourself.” “Fuck no,” he tries to return the remote to you. “You do it.”

You hold your hands behind your back. “If you want to live any sort of life in the 21st century after this, you’re going to want to know how to use a TV.”

“I can use a fucking TV.”

“Yeah,” you snort. “A shitty, twenty-year-old motel TV. Unless you want us to put you in a memory unit, gramps, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

“Bitch,” he grunts, but he stops trying to pawn off the remote.

“Cunt.”

His knuckles are white around the remote as he gives you an impatient, expectant look.

“Raise your hand like this, with that side,” you tap the head of the remote. “Facing the TV.”

He mimics your movements, and you give a nod of approval.

“Good, now hit that button.” When he doesn’t, you grab his finger and adjust to sit where you had pointed. “Ok, now that one.”

“Why are all these fucking buttons hidden and not labeled. Buttons used to be fucking labeled.”

You shrug. “For most people it’s intuitive, I guess.” You point to another button. “Now hit that one, and I’ll teach you how to search.”

This continues for another painstakingly drawn-out ten minutes. Once you’re absolutely sure he can passably navigate, raise and lower volume, and turn off the TV altogether, you step back.

“That’s it,” you offer him a grin. “Easy as breathing.”

He makes a grumbling, incoherent sound, dropping back on the couch. After a moment of staring at the menu on the screen, he looks up at you from his seat with an irritable frown. “You just going to fucking stand there?”

You blink at him, catch that his curt words are meant to be an offer, and move around the couch and to take the same spot you occupied yesterday. He offers you the remote back, and when you don’t take it he throws it onto your lap.

You give him a tired sigh. “The whole point of this-“

“I’ve never seen any of this shit. You said you’d find something else I’d like, Sunshine. Prove it.”

You raise your brows, but your protests die on your tongue, and you start scrolling through the display.

“I’m not that fucking old,” he grunts over your focus.

“What?” Half your attention still on the TV, you watch him shift forward in your periphery.

“I’m not that fucking old,” he repeats. “I’m not your fucking gramps.”

You glance at him, a hum of amusement leaving you. “You’re over a hundred. It’s not like you’re forty and I’m calling you ancient. Besides,” you give yourself a small smile. “Hughie told me about your little trysts with mature women. Mature woman, forty years your junior.” You stick out your tongue at him. “Cradle robber.”

“I don’t discriminate.” He says, leaning back to lounge on the couch. “And it’s not robbing the cradle if there’s no one that’s-“ he cuts himself off as he almost slips and admits your point. He gives you a glower, daring you to say something. “I’m not old.”

“Someone’s sensitive,” you mumble with a small, genuine smile, and before he can jab back, you hit play on a comedy special, turn the volume to max, and recline into the cushions.

The next set of days pass in similar fashion, and though Soldier Boy doesn’t stop grumbling insults and annoyances, picking small fights, or calling you a bitch, your childish psychological warfare has come to a halt, there’s no more throwing of chairs or explosions, and the word “bitch” off his tongue lacks the malice it did before. You quickly discover that Soldier Boy is a lot more like a toddler than anyone could have possibly guessed. You start leaving out snacks of cheese and fruit on the counter and rarely return to find it still in its spot. If you sit with him, he’ll stay shockingly still, but will make little snipes at the television. Sometimes you catch him after a comment, watching to see if you’re entertained by his words, and learn that even a vaguely amused smile makes him take on an overtly smug grin himself. At one point you start writing down a list of his less than progressive phrases, labeling it “Soldier Boy Racist Grampa Highlights," until he catches you, grabbing the list from next to you when he notices his name.

“The fucks this?” He’d asked as he scanned the page.

“I got bored,” you shrugged, and he rolled his eyes.

“This one’s not even that bad,” he pointed to a more recent addition, and you leaned over to read it.

“You called Hughie a cocksucking queer piss-boy. He’s not even here to defend himself.”

“So?”

You just gave him a flat look and returned your attention to the book you’d been skimming. You noticed him pocket the list, though, and over the next few days he started to pull it out whenever the apparently vital urge to insult someone showed its face. While the vulgarity didn’t decrease, the use of language you could only describe as tasteless and bigoted, did. Hughie even received a demotion to a “cocksucking pussy.”

He still rarely slept, instead locking himself in his room late at night and only emerging once you wake up. Once you pass his room on a 3am trip to the bathroom, walking in soft, toed steps to avoid disturbing him, only for the light leaking under his door to flood the hallway as he opens it.

“It’s not morning,” he watches you, leaning against his doorframe. “You should be asleep.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” is what you try to say. But between your clouded brain, restless need for the bathroom, and energy-drained body, what comes out is a string of sounds in a whiny tone.

“What was that?” His voice is taunting, but lacks any real edge.

“Cunt.” You mumble, trying to look at least a little menacing and, based off of what you think is a grin on Soldier Boy’s face, not succeeding.

“Bitch. You know, if you’re not tired, I’d be willing to help get you there.” He’s probably giving you a cocky, suggestive eyebrow wriggle, but between the sleepy squint of your eyes and light casting him in a silhouette, you really can’t tell. When you just make another mumble in response, he chuckles “Go back to bed, Sunshine, you’re going to collapse.”

“Nu-uh,” is all you can manage, and start to shuffle down the hall once more. When you emerge from the bathroom, your vision filled with spots after trying to turn on the lights only to be blinded, his door is closed once more, and you return to your room, collapsing back into useless, terror-fraught sleep.

When you walk into the kitchen that morning, the coffee pot is full.

———-

“What’s the third?”

You look up from your trudge through a CIA-provided, untranslated copy of Beowulf to find Soldier Boy staring at you from the door of your room.

“Third what?”

Taking that as an invitation, he stepped fully through the door to stand at the edge of your bed. “Third power. You’ve got your fireworks and feelings shit, what the fuck’s the third?”

You mark your page and meet his insistent face. “I told you that what, like ten days ago? Did you only now think to ask?”

“Nine days,” he says with an eye roll. “Don’t be fucking dramatic. And you got all pissy about your supe name. Not my fault I tried to respect your stupid fucking woman emotions and dropped it.”

You laugh. “First off, add ‘woman emotions’ to the list. And you totally forgot. I can see right through you, you just didn’t want me to make more old man jokes.”

“You’re fucking doing it anyway." He mutters, taking out the crumpled paper and a pencil from his pocket, using the wall to scratch the addition. “Would’ve been a stupid fucking plan, and I’m not a sensitive pussy who cares about jokes.” He shoves the list back into his jeans, and gives you a scowl as your grin spreads further across your face.

“Literally two days ago you threw a tantrum because I asked you what dinosaurs were your friends.”

“Are you going to answer my fucking question?”

“Fine, you baby,” you snort. “I can heal people by touching them. Technically, I transfer their injuries onto me, and then I heal so quickly it doesn’t matter. That’s mostly what I was doing for the Boys before this.”

“You were playing nurse?” He frowned. “When you can withstand a nuclear blast and are a fucking human molotov? That’s fucking stupid.”

“In case you didn’t notice, I don’t really have any control over the fire. And I wasn’t just ‘playing nurse’, I helped with missions in other ways.”

“Really?” His tone was sarcastic as he gave you a doubtful look. “What, you were a human shield too?”

“Well, yeah.” You mutter sheepishly. “But it was helpful."

“Sure, Sunshine. They must be torn up without you.”

You give him a scowl. “You know, I’m not going to tell you stuff if you’re going to be a fucking dick about it.”

He blinks, mouth curving down. “I was fucking joking.”

“Wasn’t funny,” you shrug, opening up your book. “Get out of my room.”

He doesn’t move. “Why are you being a fucking bitch again?”

You sigh, staring blankly at the pages. You’d admit, even from inside your own head, your anger had blossomed quite suddenly. But his accusations of your team being absolutely unaffected by your absence stabbed you somewhere in your chest, fueling that voice in the back of your head. It was getting louder, reminding you of all that damage in your wake—how your team walked on eggshells when they spoke to you and flinched when you touched them. “Human shield” was the best description of your place within the group. “Nurse” was too generous a term for a person they let touch and heal them only if the hospital was too far away and it couldn’t wait. On rare occasions you’d convince them to forgo their protests and just let you fix their wounds, but it took promises and pleas from you and exhausted caving from them. You look back up at Soldier Boy, who has remained in his place, eyes boring into you as you’d calmed yourself.

“I don’t like being useless.” You say softly. You know the admission could return to bite you in the ass should the peace you and Soldier Boy maintained the past week crumble, but he’d surprised you once. Maybe he’d do it again. “I don’t need you to remind me that I am.”

You watch his reaction, frown growing but fuming annoyance fading. His eyes were overtaken by a surly look you couldn’t figure out. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard.”

Your jaw drops, and that thing under your skin starts to claw against your skull. “Get out.” When he doesn’t move, your voice raises. “Get out!”

“Would you just-“

“Out!” You’re at a full scream now, chucking Beowulf at him. “Get the fuck out!”

“Just fucking listen to me!” He’d stumbled back as the book hit, most likely out of shock more than anything else, but remained in your room. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice smoke starting to curl around you, but you’re too angry to try to calm it. He must notice it as well, because his face pinches slightly, no longer trying to move back to you. “I wasn’t done-“

“What, you got more stupid, cruel shit to say? About how I’m not just useless, I’m a stupid fucking bitch? A useless whore who can’t even cook? An uptight fucking prude?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, woman, for once in your life, shut the fuck up!” He’s yelling too now, and suddenly you can’t move. It’s not like he’s never raised his voice before, having frequent appearances in your previous daily shouting matches, but this is different. This seeps through the air into your blood and head, shutting everything in you down until all that’s left is fear. Breathing is hard, your heart can’t seem to keep up with your lungs, and your anger is quickly turning into a light-headed, frantic need to go, go, go and hide, or to start clawing and clawing at whatever comes close until this feeling leaves. All of a sudden he’s right there, he’s in front of you and grabbing your arms, shaking you and saying something you can’t hear. Slowly, the tightness around you starts changing, becoming something solid, something firm. You’re annoyed and frustrated, but under it rests an urge to cover your hands in blood over something. Your fragile terror is washed over by a vigilant alarm, and everything suddenly feels sharper. As you emerge from your own brain, you notice Soldier Boy still there, his face level with yours.

“You’re fine.” It’s not a question. He’s telling you, and suddenly you realize that you are. And as you nod, you feel the distress in you fade into something like relief. Your head drops, and you tense once more as your eyes see his hands on your biceps.

“Um,” you look between his grip on your body and his face, drawn with a confusion you can feel in yourself. You gesture your head back down, his own attention following yours, and he lets out a grunt when he sees what you’re glancing at, dropping himself from you.

He draws himself up and turns, and part of you thinks he’s going to walk out the door and leave the rest of your fight for the morning. But he stops when he opens the door, and speaks without turning.

“You’re not useless. That’s what I was trying to fucking tell you. You’re certainly worth more than any of those preachy hypocrites.” Before you can ever open your mouth, he’s gone, slamming the door behind him.

You don’t sleep that night, laying in bed with the sheets feeling too warm and itchy, your thrashing only just slower than your restless thoughts. You stare and stare at the ceiling, trying to comb through the conversation and pick apart every second so you’d know just what to say when the dawn broke. You wanted to, needed to, make sure things didn’t go back to the way they’d been before. That had been exhausting, every part of your waking moments wondering who would blow up first, listing out hypotheticals to ensure that you would win any fight he offered you. You’d take the blame, a scratch in the back of your head told you it was yours anyway, to keep this truce. As the night moves, time becomes uncertain, hours, minutes, and seconds all feeling the same. Your dread turns to shame, to doubt, to a hot, righteous anger.

This won’t wait for morning, you decide. He doesn’t get to do this, make you sink down like this. It might have been your fault, but he doesn’t get to make you sit in it. You’re going to fix this or blow it up, and you’re going to do it now.

He must be up. He’s always up. You’d seen him “sleep” twice, both times in a frighteningly controlled manner, waking himself up the moment his breathing became soft. He’s certainly up, the light in his room is escaping into the hall, and you can hear him shuffling around, but, still, you knock on his door. When it doesn’t open, you knock again, then once more after another minute of inaction.

After the fifth knock, your patience a thin thread, you shout. “I know you’re in there, Soldier Boy! The light’s on, and I can fucking hear you! We need to talk!” The sounds pick up, but still the door is shut. “Let me fucking in, you ass!”

Nothing.

The thread snaps, and you push open the door. The harsh of the light blinds you for only a second, and when your eyes adjust, you're met with the sight of Soldier Boy, asleep, with his face in crumpled in a pained grimace. Sheet askew across the bed as he grunts unintelligibly, his body looks braced against something you can’t see. You’re frozen in your place near the door, agitation forgotten. You want to wake him up, because you know far better than anyone how real these things can seem, how the pain being your head doesn’t stop the echo of it in your body. You want to leave and never speak of this again, because there’s no way he receive you seeing him like this well. But what makes you decision for you, springing you from your rooted place, is the light in his chest starting to brighten as the room starts to hum.

It’s more instinct than anything—you know that the safe house and everything in it has been built to withstand this very thing, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you—as you run to the bed and shake Soldier Boy by his shoulders. When your skin meets his a rush of fear, pure and unbridled fear as strong as it had been from you hours ago, overtakes you. Fear and anger. You don’t think you ever felt this bloodthirsty, savage anger in you before. Your anger had always been cold and zealous, calculating tributes for your sorrow. This anger didn’t care. Somebody just had to hurt, and hopefully that someone would break.

If it’d been any other circumstance, you’d have been terrified by it. But you’re not, focused entirely on waking Soldier Boy up. Later, when several hours were between you and this moment, you’d deal with this. Maybe you’d even acknowledge how, despite the distance, you still may not be afraid of it. But now, with the light only growing, you let his feelings wash through you, and you do something drastic.

You pull back and slap Soldier Boy in the face.

He roars, eyes shooting open and glazed with a feral haze, his body jerking upright and grabbing you by the throat. Even as it happens, hindsight tells you that there probably were other ways to wake him up, but this was the stupid path you’d taken, and you unfortunately could not go back.

Before your vision could grow spotty, before your own fear and images of a flickering light above you could overtake your head, he let go with another shout. You scrambled back, realizing the fever in you had crept out of your spine, trading bruises on your neck for burns on his hands.

You watch him slowly regain control, his face dropping into exhaustion and his eyes searching the room—for what exactly, you’re not sure—and finding you.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” The words are low and rough, and though they don’t sound like a question, you answer him anyway.

“I- I just wanted to talk, and you weren’t answering the door…” You trail off lamely, your words sounding hollow even to you.

He doesn’t yell at your though, or push you out. He just stares at you, as if you’re meant to continue, to try and justify your presence. But you just stare back, unsure if you want him to kick you out, talk to you, or just pass out and forget the whole thing.

Instead of those options, leaving you at yet another loss, he sits back and scoots over to the far side of the mattress. When you don’t react besides another prolonged stare, he gives a half-hearted eye roll and pats the space next to him. Slowly, slightly fearful of misunderstanding his gesture, you walk over and drop on the bed at his side.

He’s looking ahead, unreadable from only his side profile, when he speaks.

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

You don’t stop watching him as you respond. “Does that happen every time?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

You don’t have anything else to say—any reassurance you can think of sounding stupid even in your head. So you wait, still watching him, and sit in the silence.

“Do you not have any?” His voice is strangely soft, though no tension has left his body.

You give a small sigh. “I do. But I’m good at hiding them. Stuff like that,” you wave a hand to his chest. “Only happens on bad days.”

“Bad days?” You can see his frown forming as his lips turn down, his voice growing deeper.

“On a few missions, I saw Homelander,” you whisper, now staring ahead yourself. “From afar. Really afar. I know he didn’t ever even see me, because I’m not back… there, but whenever I see him, apparently it’s enough.” You turn back to Soldier Boy, and are met with him watching you.

“Is that what yours are about?”

You give a small nod. “Different things happen, but it’s always him. Always there.”

“Hm,” his eyes don’t leave you as he speaks. “How do you stop them?”

You don’t have to ask what he means. “I don’t stop them, I just keep them in here.” You tap your head. “And I think of before. About how it was.”

“That helps?”

“As long as I don’t let myself remember that it will never be like that again.” You can’t hide the pain the words give you.

“What was it like?”

“Before? It’s was normal,” you shrug. “Boring.”

He tilts his head at you. “Normal?”

“Normal,” you repeat, watching his face as you speak.

He frowns, and looks away. You notice him swallow heavily, glaring at the wall. “Like,” he swallows again. “Like what?”

“Well, I had parents. Siblings. I had friends, I worked, I went to school-“

“School?” He turns back to you. “You're an adult, did they make school fucking longer?”

You feel a small smile quirk your lip. “No, I was doing a postgraduate. I’d actually just finished. Technically, I’m a doctor.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“Of Anthropology, yeah. I know less about human medicine than WebMD.” You pause. "That’s like, a website that’s famous for giving bad medical advice. I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“And you think you know less than it?”

“Oh, I know I know less than it.”

He snorted, returning to watch the wall. “That’s fuckin ironic.”

You nod in amusement. “Yep.”

When you don’t continue, he looks back once more. “What else?”

“I lived alone. Small, shitty studio on the Upper West Side. I visited my dad in Boston once a month-“

“Just your dad?”

“Yeah, my mom wasn’t dead, she’s just a bitch.” You hear Soldier Boy cough what might have been a laugh, but you ignore it. “She and my dad divorced when I was like, ten. They had joint custody, but I stopped talking to her when I was fifteen.”

“Harsh,” he mutters. “What, she ground you one too many times?”

You decided that holding back about thing like this was a need long gone. “She tried to send me to a medical boarding school in the Berkshires.”

“What the fuck is a ‘medical boarding school’”

“Like a psych ward where they teach you math.”

“Huh,” he raises his brows at you. “You need one?”

You shake your head. “Nah, I already knew math.”

He stares at you blankly, a smile having crept onto your face. “You’re… making a joke.” He said slowly.

“Yep,” you nudge his shoulder with your own. “That’s what a good one sounds like.”

He lets out a low laugh. “That wasn’t that fucking good.”

“You laughed.”

“You can’t fucking prove it.”

You’re grinning fully now. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, gramps.”

He rolls his eyes. “So your mom’s a bitch, you lived alone, and you can’t even cook. That’s just fucking sad.”

“New York is famous for its food,” you mutter. “And I can heat stuff up, as you very well know.”

“You can’t coast on box macaroni forever, Sunshine.”

“Been working fine for both of us so far.”

He gives you an amused look. “You’re not trying to seduce me.”

“What the fuck does that have to do-“

“You don’t have to impress me,” he continues, unfazed. “Your cooking doesn’t matter. What’d you do when you were hungry for dick?”

You stare at him. “You’re unbelievable.” He only returns your glare with a cocky grin.

“You haven’t seen nothing yet, Sunshine.” He winks, and you roll your eyes.

“Men aren’t big pussies about that stuff anymore,” you smile as his face drops at your claim. “And I never spent a lot of time being ‘hungry for dick’, anyways.”

“What, you have a loyal boyfriend?” he taunts.

“Nope,” you give him a grin. “But I had a sweet old lady in the apartment across the hall who brought me food every weekend. You’d have liked her, she was just your type.”

He grunts, but not with annoyance. “All I hear is no boyfriend, no friends, and can’t cook. Like I said, just fucking sad.”

“I had friends!” You protest. “We’d do karaoke every Friday!”

“You can sing?”

“Nobody who does karaoke can sing,” you dodge with ease. “But we had fun.”

He lets out a labored breath, and when he turns to you this time, you notice how bloodshot his eyes are.

“Would you go back?” He asked. He was watching you so carefully, and you once again are left confused by the look in his eyes.

“I don’t think I could.” You answer, your voice sounding far away, a memory of a gravestone flashing in your head. “I don’t think it would be fair to them.”

“Fair to them?” He gives a doubtful huff. “That’s fucking stupid.”

“Really?” You challenge. “I don’t think it’s stupid to not want to pull the people you love into this shitshow. I got a chance to keep them out of this life. Most people aren’t that lucky.”

Soldier Boy only shrugs. “Bad things will still fucking happen to them.”

“Bad things happen to everyone.” Your words are firm. “I’m making sure they don’t fucking die.”

“Well,” he turns back to the wall. “Aren’t they fucking lucky they have you.”

You know his words are meant to be cold and sarcastic, his face has even dropped into a scowl. But there was no sharpness behind them, and the rest of his face just looks… so tired. You hate it, it’s leaking into you and you’re not even touching him. You really, really want it to stop. So, you say the only thing that you can think of.

“Nobody taught me,” you say softly.

“What?” His red eyes give you a confused glance.

“I can’t cook because nobody taught me how. My mom didn’t care to, I don’t think it ever occurred to my dad, and eventually everyone just assumed that I could and I didn’t want to correct them. I turned into some sort of rage against the patriarchy shit in my head, but it’s a just life skill that I can’t do because nobody wanted to teach me.” You give him a sad smile. “I don’t think they felt as lucky to have me as you think.”

“So why’re you protecting them?” He asks, a puzzled frown on his face. “If those pussies didn’t fucking care about you, then they don't fucking deserve it.”

You shrug. “I know. But I’m going to keep doing it anyway.”

His eyes on yours have that look of dissection again, but it’s no longer violating, only prying carefully. You’re not sure how long passes before he speaks.

“It’s late,” he mutters. “You should sleep.”

You hesitate, but nod and stand. You move to the door, glancing back to see his still watching, alone on the bed. From here, he somehow looks more tired, the light making the circles around his eyes more prominent and the color on his face more washed out. You think it’s the most human you’ve ever seen him.

“Good night, Soldier Boy,” you say gently, and turn to leave.

You almost don’t hear his response.

“You don’t have to call me Soldier Boy,” the words are said under his breath, and when you turn, he has a soft frown. “Ben’s fine.”

You blink, and a small, unforced smile crosses your face. “I’ll see you in the morning, Ben.”

[banggyu0308]

genre: internet strangers to lovers, idol au, smut

warnings: nsfw under the cut, not very coherent, slutty yeonjun, dom!yeonjun, sexting, choking kink, pet names (baby), praise, drinking (they don't get THAT drunk, alright guys?), one night stand-ish, degradation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, handholding, cursing, dacryphilia, yeonjun lurks on social media TT, reader is bold ASF, not proofread

wc: 2.5k+

an: tysm for the username help @itgirlgyu TT + this is just for the delulus + @beomsl MEL YOU REMEMBER WHEN WE TALKED ABT PART OF THIS???? + i might title this later but who knows!!

taglist: @full-sunnies , @agustdiv1ne

yeonjun who likes to wear his tank tops to show off, loves heading onto moa twitter and tumblr after lives just to see the fandom having a meltdown... especially hard stan social media, watching all the comments and photos of himself show up. he likes being in control like this, having the power to make everyone else go crazy just by wearing something else that day.

he scrolls and scrolls and one specific post pops up, it's community labeled and when he clicks 'keep reading', he can see why; pretty tits on display from the original poster, comments in the tags all about how she's all his, and he's not very surprised to feel himself growing hard in his pants. yeonjun eyes the username, ready to click the blue-fonted 'follow' button, but it's already gone, and his eyes widen to see that it's an account he's been following and interacting with for a while. that fact only makes it better, and he's clicking to his chat with you before he can even think it through what he's about to do.

yawnchoi you look really pretty in that new post...

yn what can i say? yeonjun brings out a special part of me 😭

yawnchoi im very sure he feels the exact same

yn in my dreams 😭 don't fuel my deluluness

yawnchoi i'm being very serious right now

yn mhm mhm sureeee and how would YOU know? 😑

yawnchoi ajksdbwsjdhbw maybe this wasn't a good idea

yn WHAT wasn't a good idea, hm? 🤨

yawnchoi baby all i'm trying to do is figure out how to word that i'm yeonjun 😭

yn i do not believe you for one moment

yawnchoi i'll send a pic that i would never, ever post and you can even reverse image search it or whatever or i could send a video, im not messing around baby

yn go ahead then ;-;

yawnchoi [sent a photo]

yn alright so yeonjun would definitely never post a photo of him in his boxers in bed so imma need that video 🙏

yawnchoi [sent a video]

yn oh. oh holy shit choi yeonjun has seen my tits- NOT ONLY HAS HE SEEN MY TITS HE LIKES THEM- one sec imma need to process haha im totally not hyperventilating haha

yn alright im back hi haha

yawnchoi helloooo 👋

yn wow. alright. so. uh. how do i ask this- you wanna see more tit pics?

yawnchoi THAT WAS SO BOLD HELP ME- but yes pleaseeee

yn [sent a photo]

yawnchoi oh baby- holy shit you're so pretty 🥺

yn thanks jjunie kwsnbdwjkd im still like- going crazy rn yawnchoi thats cute baby :((

yn wjhbswhjdhj so- since you've seen my tits i wanna see you again :(( preferably your dick but haha

yawnchoi yeah? pretty baby wants to see my dick?

yn kjwbshwjdbhe yes please?

yawnchoi asking so nicely... alright baby~ [sent a photo]

yn oh 😳 oh fuck alright sjbdsewjh wanna touch :((

yawnchoi me or yourself, baby?

yn well, both, but only one can happen, right? so me-

yawnchoi go ahead, can i see? yn alright 😳 [sent a video]

yawnchoi baby's so pretty :(( wanna see you cum for me <3

yn [sent a video] would be better if you were here :( want you to touch me so bad wjbwjhdbe

yawnchoi can fly you into korea if you want...

yn YOU'RE KISSING *KIDDING

yawnchoi i'm notttttttt dekjbdekj pretty cunt's got me all horny :((

yn i don't even care if it's a one night stand choi fucking yeonjun's gonna fly me out to korea to fuck me heck yeah

---------------------------------

and he does. books a flight last minute for the next day, from your country to seoul, puts on a pair of sunglasses and his least conspicuous outfit, and drives to the airport. he isn't THAT nervous- it's not like he thinks you're gonna murder him.

and when you walk out of the airport building with nothing but a backpack with you, looking around and waving slightly when you see him, his heart quickens just a little. (and NOT just because he's seen you naked).

you decide to sit in the back of his car for no reason other than you want to, and maybe a little bit because you can't exactly handle looking at him straight on quite yet.

to your surprise, there's no awkward small talk, just him getting straight to the point and saying all the members are out of the dorm currently, but, ever the gentleman, he says since you flew a long way, you can sleep a little bit first and he won't bother you.

your whole body is on alert and you find yourself thinking that there's no way you'd be able to sleep now. it's one thing to sext someone knowing they're an idol- another to actually be in the car with them, on your way to where they live, and knowing you're going to actually fuck them.

yeonjun politely takes your bag when you get out of the car, and when his fingers wrap around the strap, his hand brushes yours slightly. you internally feel like you might faint- you hadn't actually prepared yourself for this, and now he was touching you and he feels real and you knew he was real but now it just feels extra.

holding your bag, he opens the door to the dorm, leading you in before following, taking you into his room and placing your bag down on the floor next to his bed. every single action that takes him closer to you makes your face grow hot, the bed dipping slightly under your weight when you sit down. the sheets are soft, but your mind barely registers it, focusing instead on the fact that you are in yeonjun's bed.

he opens his mouth to say something, and you panic, cutting him off quickly with a wry grin and a statement. "i might need some alcohol in my system before we do anything else."

yeonjun raises his eyebrows in the slightest, a little surprised, but he also gets it. he's pretty sure both his body and his mind want you way too much right now, but he's so nervous he might not do anything. his hands are twisted in his lap and he quickly realizes and sits on them instead before standing.

he leads you to the kitchen, getting himself a can of beer and letting you pour yourself a couple shots of vodka. you know your limits- it's just enough for you to get a little tipsy and stop overthinking everything.

knocking one back, you enjoy the burn in your throat before taking the second. the slight buzz under your skin makes you smile slightly, leaning against the counter while he takes long sips of his own drink. it's obvious he wants this to pick up, so you busy yourself messing with his shirt just a little while he drinks. you slip your fingers under his sleeve, mindlessly rubbing your fingertips back and forth over his skin. you can tell he remembered your comments the previous day about his arms, basing his outfit around that.

he has another tank top on today, arms flexing when he brings the can to his lips to take another sip, and you move your hands a little farther down to rest on his chest. this time, when he lowers the can, his lips are a little wet from the drink and you can't help but press a messy kiss to them, licking the liquid off. yeonjun lets out a slight hiss when your tongues meet, left hand reaching behind him to place the can on the counter.

the alcohol must really be working already because you're both stumbling to his room, messily tugging each other's clothes off, and yeonjun leaves a line of wet hickeys up your neck. each and every touch of his skin on yours makes you feel fire burn a trail across your body, but it's in a way that makes you almost absolutely sure that it's not just because he's one of your celebrity crushes, or because you're a little drunk.

yeonjun's movements are so rushed that in seconds he's on top of you, his own shirt off, pants quick to follow once you tug at them. your hands find way to his newly-lightened hair when his lips and tongue meet yours again, a different kind of intoxication weaving itself up and over each of your limbs, the kind of intoxication that makes you want to live and breathe this man.

"want you," he whispers, cheeks pink from the alcohol, his eyes slightly glazed when he looks into yours, and the way he says it makes your cheeks grow hot again.

"go ahead then, 'm all yours," you exhale in response, trying to ignore the way your heart twinges at your own words. this is just a one time thing, you have to remind yourself.

but yeonjun's eyes light up and he presses another kiss to your lower lip, one hand moving between your legs to part them. his eyes lower to your cunt, and you can feel the way your underwear are sticking to your pussy. you'd chosen to wear white underwear today and you're pretty sure they're see-through by now, drenched completely from all the feelings yeonjun's touch is sending through you.

"all mine?" yeonjun mumbles, eyes wide. and when you nod, he smirks slightly. "love your cunt so much, i might just take you right now." your own eyes widen and yeonjun can feel your breath hitch. "but you'd like that, wouldn't you? pretty slut would love her jjunie taking her raw, would love to have me cum inside..."

you suck in a breath through your teeth at his words, nodding quickly, spread out on the bed beneath him. your mouth tastes like alcohol and yeonjun, and your brain tries to forget how he so flippantly called himself your jjunie.

"jjun, just, just fuck me, please?" you whimper out when he rubs a fingertip over your clothed cunt.

"baby asked so nicely, might as well give her what she wants," he coos, tugging off his boxers only once he slides your underwear down your legs. "promise you'll let me taste you next time?"

you nod, too distracted by the fact that he's already planning a 'next time' in his head to realize that he wants to eat you out, but by the time you understand, he has the tip of his cock pressed to your entrance, other hand holding yours as he slowly pushes in. the gesture feels sweet, romantic even, and you let your eyes fall shut when he pauses his movements.

yeonjun's body is pressed flush to yours in a way that allows him to brush his fingers over your neck, skin smooth against you. his hand wraps loosely around your neck and his breath is hot on your cheek when he whispers, "is this okay?"

you nod once more, only because the combination of the alcohol and his body on you is making your brain so fuzzy you can't think clear enough to speak. yeonjun hums lightly and experiments with his grip, making you gasp a little when he also hits your g-spot. he lets out a hiss when your already-tight walls tighten further around him.

he'd had a feeling that you'd feel like heaven around him, just because of the fact you had stated you were only able to fit two fingers inside yourself, but he had obviously underestimated all the sensations that were going to overwhelm him like they are now. every movement of his hips towards yours makes him fight to control the tremble of his body. your hand is linked with the one he doesn't have around your neck and every time he buries himself completely inside you, your hand tightens just a little around his.

he's losing himself just a little, hand still laced with yours, pace quickening until jolty, broken, high pitched moans are the only sound leaving you. yeonjun can't help but smirk at that, hoisting one leg over his shoulder. "fucking pussy is so perfect, almost like it's made for me, taking me so well... might just keep you here, my personal little cumslut, could bring you on tour with us, fuck you every night in the hotel room, how'd you like that, hm?"

his rhythm is so brutal you're choking on your words by now, broken sobs slipping through your parted lips, tears filling your waterline and then slipping down your cheeks, mixing with the slight mascara you'd put on this morning and making your face a mess. yeonjun likes it too, the way he's so easily able to get you like this, just a few words from his lips and you're crying.

he can't help but tell you this with a mocking pout on his lips that turns into yet another smirk, chuckling when all you can do is whimper incoherently. yeonjun kisses you gentle enough to make up for his harsh words though, he's only trying to make you feel good, and he knows you like it when he talks down to you.

one hand still around your neck, the other moves from your hand to your waist, and he's only fucking into you harder when you whine out that you're close. his lips catch yours again when you gasp out his name, gummy walls fluttering around his dick as your whole body shakes from the force of your orgasm, yeonjun's fingertip rubbing at your clit making you convulse under him.

yeonjun bites back a little moan and lowers his lips to your ear again. "can i cum in you, baby? let me make you mine?"

you can't tell if he's just saying it in the heat of the moment, but you nod, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you.

he bites his lip slightly, only losing control completely when you lick up the side of his neck and bite a splotchy hickey onto his neck. his warm cum fills you as he mumbles out a string of curses mixed with your name against your neck.

yeonjun practically collapses on you once he pulls out but lets himself take a second to marvel at how pretty you look right now, mascara leaking down your cheeks and neck, his cum and yours leaking from your swollen, abused cunt.

you let him wrap his arms around your form, cheek against his chest, both your bodies hot and sweaty, his bangs plastered to his forehead. there's a question on the tip of your tongue but he answers it for you, mumbling in your ear, "will you stay? for longer than just today?" yeonjun pauses slightly, then continues. "i'm not sure if i want you to be just one time. i know that this part of our relationship is new but we've been talking for so long and yeah, i don't want you to go back home and for this never to happen again."

you purse your lips, alcohol fogging up your brain and making you a little too sleepy to respond. "we'll talk tomorrow, hm? it's late and i had a long flight and i'm tired, jjunie..."

he nods slightly, running a hand through his hair, and presses a kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, yn."

"night night, yeonjun," you exhale.

you're almost half asleep when you hear him whisper, "the others'll be home soon, if they see us like this, i'm blaming you..."

[whyse7vn]

MIN YOONGI & KIM SEOKJIN

NICER:

“You know….” Jin looks over to Yoongi he’s sprawled out on a black couch thats sits in middle of the room they’re both in mindlessly scrolling through his phone. “It’s almost time to renew our contracts”

“So?” Yoongi replies his full attention still being held by his phone.

“Well, don’t tell her” Yoongi pauses “I told you this but y/ns been kinda on the fence about it all”

“About renewing her contract?”

“About being in the group all together”

Yoongi’s phone falls flat to his chest. Jin bites back a smirk.

“What?”

“Again don’t tell her i told you this but she said being in the groups gotten a little suffocating that we all argue too much and tha—”

“Bullshit”

“I’m not joking you know she comes to me about stuff why would i lie?”

Yoongi pauses for a moment. Why would Seokjin his good friend of over 10 years lie to him?

There are many reasons actually like that one time he took that sandwich out the fridge that was clearly labelled “JINS DO NOT EAT” and ate it right in his face or that other time when he tripped Jin up during rehearsals for no reason at all or that time—

“Trust me she was like really serious about it and—”

Yeah Yoongi doesn’t believe him, not one bit.

“So why are you telling me this shouldn’t you go talk to Joon about this stuff?”

“You know how Namjoon is can’t say no to her like… ever she would be gone before we know it and i thought about bringing it up with Jungkook but you also know how he is..”

“What about Jimin? Hobi? The fucking company, why me?”

“It’s just ‘cuz she said- never mind it’s not important forget i mentioned this”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing… i just i- i don’t want you to think it’s your fault or anything”

“So it’s my fault”

Yoongi now sits fully up right on the couch he was once slouched on with his eyebrows furrowed and gaze locked on Jin.

Jin bites back another smirk.

“No! not at all she just said some… stuff don’t worry about it!”

“What did she say” It’s not a question anymore.

“Well just that maybe you could uh.. be nicer or something?”

“Nicer?” Yoongi is now fully stood up one fist clenched and a head full of questions.

“Me? …Nicer?”

“That’s what she said” Jin shrugs.

Yoongi knows he isn’t the best to his fellow members often rejecting their various displays of affection and saying somewhat mean things to them on occasion. Sure he might of ‘lovingly’ punched a few of them a couple times called them some unkind names but not you! well he did call you a bitch once … or twice but you knew he was joking right? And he says sorry… sometimes, so Yoongi’s not even that mean, not at all, like it’s tough love or whatever. Yoongi can be nice. Yoongi is nice.

Yoongi stares back at Jin.

“Do you… think i could be nicer?”

There’s a pause.

“Well…”

Oh. Ok maybe Yoongi isn’t as nice as he thought he was. But it wasn’t that bad.

“…just considering she wants to leave the group because of it…”

Right. It’s is that bad.

Yoongi’s gaze drops the floor momentarily. He notices his phone that once held his attention now resides ontop of the fluffy carpet beneath his feet, but that’s the least of his concern right now. He feels a little sick and a whole lot embarrassed.

“Did she uh say anything else… about me i mean” He looks everywhere but Jin another wave of embarrassment taking over him as the question leaves his mouth.

Jin cocks his head at Yoongi in clear amusement, Not that Yoongi could catch onto it anyways too caught up in his own mind at the moment.

“How about we discuss this over coffee my treat! I think there’s a way we can sort this all out”

—

part 2 HERE

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @blairebangtan @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos

[thebiggerbear]

So Close

Summary: You meet Colter and Russell at the morgue to help them gain access. Had you known how this was really going to go, you might have pushed Colter's call to voicemail.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x FBI!Female!Reader

A/N: I have zero idea what this is. My muse demanded I type this out after watching the morgue sneak peek scene and at this point, I'm giving her whatever she wants. I have never seen this show, know nothing about the characters and any relationships they may have or their background stories, only vaguely know what the premise is, and I'm waiting to see the episode like everyone else. And yet, the muse still put me to work. She can be so brutal sometimes.

I wouldn't call this speculation for 1x12 because I have no idea what's happened before it yet. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Full text in italics is dialogue from the morgue scene.

Warnings: mention of dead body; angst

Word Count: 2096

Sequel | Series (please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series or any future Russell or Tracker works)

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

This work was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

You met Colter and Russell Shaw at the morgue, telling them that you were only doing this one small favor and that was it and only for Colter. Colter, as always, understood. Russell, not so much.

The older man turned to look at his younger brother. “I thought you said she’d be a big help to us on this one.”

Before Colter could answer, you narrowed your eyes in Russell’s direction. “I’m putting my job at risk helping you,” you snapped.

And still just as infuriating as ever, he gave you a smile, that teasing gleam in his eye. “It’s good to see you again, Y/N. You are looking…” He worked his fingers into the all-too familiar gesture of approval, giving you a glance over. 

“Go to hell, Shaw.” You spun on your heel and started marching towards the building. “Let’s go,” you barked. “We’re on a timeclock.” 

You never looked back to see if they were following you but you heard Colter mutter not too far behind you, “You mind not pissing her off until after we get to see the body?” 

“Yeah,” Russell quietly agreed, sounding far more serious than he had a moment ago. As a matter of fact, he sounded a little down, which made you wonder what was really going on. You already knew of the strain between the brothers so them working together was odd in itself but Colter hadn’t given you details when he called you and you hadn’t asked for them. You hoped this case they were working had nothing to do with anyone who Russell might… You forced away the thought and renewed your focus on the task at hand. You weren’t here for anything pertaining to that. You needed to keep your mind clear, and your eyes and ears open. 

Once you were all inside, you noticed an older woman sitting at the reception desk. You were about to walk in and pull your badge, ready to lie your ass off and give your official spiel when Russell held a hand up. “I got this,” he assured you both, before waltzing right in. You and Colter exchanged a look before following him.

The woman glanced up briefly and saw you all approaching before going back to her computer. “What can I help you with?”

“Hi, um…” Russell glanced down at her nametag as Colter moved to stand next to his brother, sporting a small smile. “Yolanda. Well, that is—that’s a beautiful name.” You slowly shook your head and crossed your arms. He was seriously going to try to charm his way in? Well, this ought to be fun to watch.

You weren’t surprised when she barely spared him a glance before going back to typing.

And of course, that didn’t deter him one bit. “Sadly, we, uh, we heard about Len Claimans. Recently deceased and, uh, we just need to see the body.”

That caught the woman’s attention as you expected it would. She immediately turned to face him and slipped her eye glasses onto her head. “What for?”

“How do you like working here?” You nearly smirked at the increased pitch in Russell’s voice, betraying his attempt at bullshitting and also a small case of nerves. It was almost as if he’d never lied before. Funny that. 

From Colter’s expression as he watched this trainwreck up close, he had to be thinking along the same lines as you, but more so wondering why this was even being attempted with you standing right there.

“Huh?” Russell continued. “I get a good vibe from you, you know. Kind eyes — helpful eyes, I like that.” You bit your lip to keep from saying something you shouldn’t. Russell had never been what you would call a good flirt, but he certainly was dialing up the charm to try to compensate. 

Too bad the charm didn’t seem to be working. Yolanda’s eyes immediately transferred to Colter. “What’s he talking about?”

Colter shook his head and turned to look at her. “The body might be connected to the disappearance of another man,” he explained. You noticed Russell glancing back at you out of the corner of his eye and you arched an inquisitive brow in his direction which made him immediately focus on Yolanda again, nodding along as his brother talked.

“Oh.” Yolanda looked regretful for a moment before going back to her computer. “I’m sorry, but unless you’re family, I can’t let you back there.”

Knowing this was the point Colter needed your intercession, you began to step forward but immediately froze when Russell snapped his fingers and spoke up. “I didn’t mention.” He gestured between him and Colter, giving Yolanda a smug grin, almost as if he had finally found the ruse that would work. “Cousins.” 

If you could have facepalmed right there without anyone seeing you, you would have. Wow. How was he so bad at this? And why didn’t he just let you do the talking? Or his brother for that matter?

Yolanda huffed out a breath of impatience. She was clearly done with this conversation and quite frankly, so were you.

Russell suddenly leaned forward. “We just-we just need a minute. Or two, you know? I promise we won’t disrupt a thing and then afterwards, maybe, uh, go grab a drink or, uh, somethin’ somethin’.” This time, you did briefly cover your face with your hand. This was just beyond embarrassing. Why did you agree to help these two again?

You could not believe what you were hearing and neither could Colter. You watched as he stared at his older brother before he decided to give it one last ditch effort and played along, turning a strained smile onto the woman.

And as expected, Yolanda finally reached her limit. “No. Sorry.” She got up from her chair and walked away.

Russell let out a disappointed breath. “That was so close.”

“No,” Colter rightfully disagreed.

You’d now reached your limit as well. Stepping forward, you loudly cleared your throat and came to a stop next to Russell. Yolanda turned to look at you, wondering what was coming next from the circus act that had apparently decided to roll into her office this afternoon. You gave her your best professional smile. “Hi there. I’m Special Agent Y/L/N with the FBI.” You slipped out your badge and held it up for her to see before putting it back into your pocket. “My associates here are correct. We’re currently investigating a missing persons case that may be connected to Mr. Claimans’ death. I’m going to need to take a look at the body as well as the autopsy report.”

Yolanda, clearly not believing anything you were selling today, stared over at you, unimpressed. “Do you have a warrant?”

“I can have one sent over to you in the next hour,” you lied. “But right now, we’re on a bit of a timeclock as I’m sure you can imagine.”

She glanced between you three, thinking it over. Russell and Colter looked back and forth between you two.

“Let me see that badge again.”

You grabbed it and handed it to her as she walked over. She studied it and then gave it back to you after a moment. “Ten minutes,” she decided. Both of you ignored Russell’s little smack to the counter and triumphant grin mixed with a quiet “I knew I liked you” in Yolanda’s direction. 

She looked bored. “That’s all I can give you.”

You gave her a nod of gratitude. “That’ll be plenty. Thank you.” 

She nodded and passed next to you to lead the way. You glanced in Colter’s direction and he nodded his thanks. Russell turned to you, his grin all but gone now, the serious tone from before back. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Sure.” He gave you the beginnings of a grateful smile, his gaze never leaving yours. You could feel yourself being sucked in, almost as if there was a strong magnetic force trying to pull you back in. There was so much going on behind those eyes that looked almost as if they were pleading with you for something — something that you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to give. You were still putting yourself back together, trying to repair the damage that his chaotic whirlwind had caused.

Colter quietly cleared his throat and it shattered the moment, and for that you were grateful. Especially when you noticed Russell had been discreetly moving closer to you. You moved away a bit, making Russell’s jaw tighten and his eyes harden, and started after Yolanda. “We should go,” you told Colter, happy to look upon him once again while you regained your bearings. “We’ve only got ten minutes and I really don’t need an ass chewing from my supervisor because your brother has no game.” 

Colter smirked and followed after you. Russell’s jaw dropped and he appeared alongside you once more, keeping pace with you. “I have game!”

“No, you don’t,” you snorted, keeping your eyes straight ahead, unwilling to look at him.

“Yes, I do. It worked on you once upon a time, didn’t it?”

You leveled a menacing glare on him before turning to look at Colter on your other side. “Why did you ask me to help you again?”

Colter pressed his lips together and decided to keep quiet, focusing on waiting for Yolanda to open the door to the morgue. “I appreciate everything you’re doing.”

Russell leaned closer and murmured to you, “I do, too. And Y/N, after we get out of here, why don’t we go grab that drink I talked about? Just you and me? We can talk and catch up.” You turned your wide eyes onto him. Was he serious? He shot you a charming grin but you could also see the tiny gleam of hope in his gaze.

You ignored the familiar scent of his cologne as it wafted over you and you tamped down the painful memories it induced.

Colter looked like he would rather be anywhere else right then. You wished you were anywhere else right then. You turned your eyes forward, refusing to look at him anymore, not wanting to see any part of his reaction to what you were about to say. “You’re both on a timeclock, remember?” You asked quietly. “After we get what we need, you should go to the spot that's next on your list or immediately chase down any leads. As for me, I have to get back to work.”  You then surged ahead, standing right behind Yolanda and stepping into the room when she opened the door.

After a moment, you heard the brothers enter behind you and Colter muttered to Russell, “You good?”

“Yeah.” You nearly closed your eyes hearing that tone that you were starting to hate once more. “So close.” This time, when he echoed the words from before, there was no false bravado attached to them, no playfulness or humor, only what you detected as regret. 

This time, Colter didn’t say anything in response. Both brothers joined you and you all watched as Yolanda selected a drawer and slid it out. Feeling Russell next to you, you swore to yourself that this would be the last time you would take a call from Colter for a long time. While you liked the younger Shaw, it was the older Shaw you didn’t want to chance running into ever again. 

You stared ahead as Yolanda unzipped the body bag, tensing as you felt the sleeve of Russell’s jacket unintentionally brush against you. So close? Too close.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Russell watching you intently, his expression serious and that regretful look in his eyes once more. You forced your gaze back to the woman reminding you of your ten minute window, refusing to allow any sympathy for the older man on your left. You hadn’t been the one to ruin things between you; you’d only been left to pick up the pieces. You were done feeling sorry for Russell Shaw. 

You took the report Yolanda offered to you before she left and began flipping through it, skimming the text, as Colter took a closer look at the body. From your peripherals, Russell stared at you a moment longer and then moved to stand next to his brother, their backs to you. Sadly, a familiar sight of the man you’d once loved. You blinked away rapidly forming tears and went back to reading.

As much as you hated to admit it, Russell had been right. So close indeed.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

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[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 3 . Abandoned, Adopted (2) - Cale/Reader

tags: abuse as the norm, reader sees nothing wrong with what they've experienced

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

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Sigh

“I was gonna reveal him later while we’re talking but might as well.”

Cale casually stated as he handed _____ a towel. It sounded as if he was describing the menu for lunch. As if he didn't let out an exasperated sigh before speaking. Contrary to his nonchalant voice and demeanour, Cale is actually a bit worried. He is worried at the high possibility of the healer not being able to compose themself at the sight of a dragon.

“I am the great Raon Miru and my great self is now 4 years old!”

“Hello Raon Miru-nim, it’s nice to meet such a great and mighty existence.”

_____ bowed respectfully at the cute dragon that Cale is currently drying with a towel. The bow only lasted two seconds before the healer grabbed a new and unused towel.

“You dried Hong but didn’t dry yourself On.”

Their gaze asked On if it was okay to dry them to which the silver kitten nodded before moving closer to _____.

Cale finds this development unexpected, but good unexpected. In fact, he likes it so much. He likes _____’s calmness despite the visible surprise in their eyes.

Some minutes and towels later the two can finally get to the main topic of today’s conversation.

“Your adoptive family has proclaimed you dead, what is your plan now?”

“Uhm, honestly young master Cale-nim-”

“Just Cale is fine, even if that shitty family of yours proclaimed you dead you are still a noble. We are still equal in status.”

“Huh? Uh uhm, okay…”

_____ was flabbergasted as this was the first time someone said they were a noble. Well, not that they have much reference as most of their conversations are with their adoptive family, but it was still shocking to the healer.

“Then Cale-ssi..? No? Uhm, Cale-sunbae[1]..? I have no concrete plan. I knew that someday I was gonna be thrown away when I was deemed useless. I just didn’t expect my usefulness to end this early.”

The healer was hesitant in their new way to address the young master. However, Cale looked more relaxed being called sunbae so _____ deemed it okay to call him as such.

“Then you just have to find a new place that will see you as useful right? I think this is the perfect place for that.”

_____ looked at Cale in disbelief. They may not know much information about… well almost everything, but they have also heard about the rumours of Cale being trash.

Whether that was real or Cale was faking it didn’t matter. 

The point still stands that someone who made a name for themself as trash would not need someone like _____. Not with all the burdens and hard work that comes with them as a package. Not only that but the young master seems to have some sort of power that lets him have full vitality at all times.

So why would such a person take in _____ who is only good at healing others?

“Cale-sunbae taking someone in like me is bound to cause trouble. I am aware that taking me in means hiding me as I cannot reveal myself right now. I am also aware that requires a lot of effort to do.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m not the son of a rich noble for nothing. All you have to think of is whether you’ll accept my offer and what you want to do. Do you want to take revenge?”

The black dragon that’s lying down on Cale’s bed with the kittens perked its head up at the mention of revenge. He may not know what _____’s story is but he feels a kinship with them at the known fact that the human his human is talking to also had a hard life before meeting Cale.

“Revenge? Oh no that has never crossed my mind. Why would I when they provided for me? It’s not like they did anything wrong?”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE LITTLE _____!!! This great and mighty being that has lived for 4 years could tell what they did was not right!!”

Everyone else in the room got a whiplash while the black dragon was enraged. Cale was confused at how such a thing could be considered normal.

“In any case, if you don’t want to make them pay it’s fine. If you ever change your mind just tell me.”

Cale Henituse is now responsible for this person, and that responsibility includes supporting them in their endeavours. 

So Cale lets it be… at least for now.

Tap

A silver kitten taps Cale’s arm using her paw. It was nighttime, and the children averaging seven years old were already lying in bed with Cale. The other two children are already asleep, leaving only the redhead and the silver kitten awake.

“What is it? Can’t sleep?”

“No that’s not it. About _____…”

The half-asleep Cale woke up at the mention of the newest addition to their group. Cale is pretty sure the healer is harmless but if the children say otherwise then further evaluation is due.

“Well, they’ve been adjusting well here in Harris Village and get along with everyone.”

Cale agrees with On’s evaluation. It has been a few days since came back to Harris Village and _____ has been doing well so far. Actually, they’ve been thriving as everyone seems to like them. 

They’re shy and don't speak unless someone else initiates the conversation. However, they are respectful and helpful to everyone. Because of that, they get along well with Cale’s people.

If that’s the case then why does On’s face say that there seems to be a problem?

“There’s something weird about their body- no I think it’s their ability. We don’t know how it exactly works right?”

On had been the closest to _____ during these past few days along with the other two children. Partly because the three have taken it upon themselves to observe the healer more, and partly because their mere presence comforts the children.

The healer doesn’t smile or laugh but everyone can tell that they truly enjoy themselves whenever they are out playing or exploring with the kids and Mary.

Even though they can’t see a physical smile on the healer’s face, them being happy still lifts everyone’s moods. 

Even Cale’s

He may try to deny it, but On has caught him a couple of times already.

Speaking of the man, he is just currently petting On’s fur while waiting for her to tell him more.

“At first I thought it was just their old wounds. They were hurt pretty badly so it wouldn’t be surprising if it takes a long time to heal since they can’t heal themself. But the wounds seem to be changing places.

I’m not so sure about that one because they wear long sleeves so it's hard to see, but I also noticed that their mood seems to drastically falter when they heal someone. More than any healer I’ve seen during our travels. It’s almost as if they seem to be in pain.”

It was true, it’s hard to see any part of _____’s body because they wear a hooded robe like Mary. The healer even went as far as covering everything but their eyes with cloth[2]. This was because they didn’t want to bother Raon with a disguise.

“We can’t be sure yet about the wounds but the other things might just be because they aren’t in optimal condition yet. They have always had a weak body. For now, I’ll them to lessen their use of their healing powers.”

With that On’s mind was put to ease and she finally fell asleep.

However, another person’s mind is not at ease.

Cale who was supposed to be slacking off felt a sense of worry. Experience from reading so many fantasy novels gave him an inkling as to how _____’s ability might work.

But nothing is confirmed yet so he set his worries aside for now and resorted to observing.

While they were in Harris Village nothing seemed out of place. Well, honestly how could there be when everything is so peaceful? The only things they were healing were minor scratches and wounds that mostly stemmed from accidents or training.

When they got to the main territory though…

To be precise it was during the festival when they were looking for hidden experts in the territory. _____ noticed the scratches and wounds on Lily’s body from training and wanted to heal them.

Of course, they didn’t say anything but at this point, Cale knows them well enough to see what they want.

So Cale told the healer to go ahead and heal Lily, and replenish her energy while they were at it too.

They did and Cale didn’t see anything unusual. But then again it’s not like Lily was badly injured. The worst thing she got was this long scratch-like wound from her forearm to below her elbow. Therefore Cale that would be the end of it and he’d have to find another chance to see if his suspicions were correct.

“Healer-nim are you okay? That scratch looks pretty fresh.”

Hans’ voice made Cale turn around to see what he was talking about.

All of them are currently roaming around the night market. _____ in particular was looking at a stall that sells hand-made stuffed toys. It ranges from fluffy teddy bears to cute crocheted dolls. 

When Cale turned to see what was going on, he did so in a way that looked as if he was just looking around the market and not listening to their conversation. He could see the healer midway to reaching a red teddy bear that was holding some kind of silver shield. 

Is it just him or does that toy oddly look like him?

Anyways ignoring the cute but oddly designed teddy bear, Cale could see that the healer’s sleeves rolled down because the placement of the teddy bear was pretty high. Because of that, their arm could be seen, and that arm was full of scars.

“Ah yes, Hans-ssi- I mean Hans. I got this earlier but it doesn’t hurt.”

“I see, but it would still be better to put some bandages over it.”

“Yes, I’ll make sure to do that when we get home.”

The scars kind of look like Lily’s scratches but one could argue that it was from _____’s wounds a few weeks ago.

However, there was no denying that a big scratch looked just like Lily’s wound from earlier.

Sure it looks better than what Lily had but Cale knows it’s the same thing.

But accusations are just accusations, Cale still doesn’t have solid proof. It could be that it wasn’t actually Lily’s wound and they just got injured earlier as there were a lot of people.

Cale also doesn’t think he should suddenly just bring it up. He doesn’t want to cause unwarranted worry and panic when he and On are still speculating things.

So he lets it go for now.

He continued strolling at the night market to look for hidden experts and buy whatever the kids wanted.

And if that shopping haul included that one red teddy bear with a shield that’s current in Raon’s spacial dimension so they could give it later to _____ even though they didn’t ask for it?

Let’s just go with Cale’s reasoning that the kids persuaded him to buy it.

[1] was gonna use -ssi at first but the rules for using ssi confuse the more I read about it. I didn't want to use Cale-nim because it's Choi Han's signature. Anyways just think of their relationship as like a sunbae and hoobae at work since reader is working for Cale now.

[2] kinda like alberu's appearance when he went to the jungle as a dark elf.

[anjee0]

My Brother's best friend

Chapter 2 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

B Rabbit x Female!reader. (Feel free to put an oc insert if you wish as well)

Description - In which Y/n starts to become friends and possibly more with her brother's best friend, BRabbit.

Y/n stood in front of the milk fridge at the supermarket as she pondered which milk she should get. It didn't matter which one she did buy, Jordan would tell her that she got the milk either way. It wasn't even her turn to do the groceries, it was Jordan's, but he made his sister do it. She was already tired from her shift and now she had to do the shopping.

Y/n felt a small tap on her leg and looked down to be met with a little girl. She had short, blonde hair and big brown eyes. Her cheeks were stained rosy pink and she had a small frown on her face.

“Hey, sweetie. You okay?” Y/n asked.

“No, I lost my brother. I can't find him.” The girl responded.

“Oh, what's your name?” 

“Lily.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows when she heard the girl speak her name. She'd heard that name somewhere before but she wasn't sure when. It took a few seconds for everything to click when she remembered that Jimmy had a younger sister named Lily.

“All right, Lily. I'm Y/n. Does your brother happen to be Jimmy?”

“Yeah! How did you know?”

“I know him. Come on, I have an idea.”

Lily took Y/n's hand as they walked to the checkout area and approached a cashier.

“What are we doing?” Lily asked.

“You'll see,” Y/n responded with a small smile.

Y/n turned to face the cashier at the register and gave a smile. “Uh hey there…” She said, squinting her eyes to try to read the cashier’s name tag. “Rachel. This little girl, Lily, lost her brother, Jimmy. Is it okay if you can use your little intercom thing to call him over?”

Rachel groaned slightly and nodded. “What's the brother's full name?”

“Jimmy Smith Jr,” Lily responded shyly.

Rachel sighed and spoke it to the intercom. “Could Jimmy Smith Jr come to check out number 3? Your sister Lily is here waiting for you.” She said in a monotonous tone.

It was only a matter of time before Jimmy came jogging to the checkout to get Lily. He slowed down and raised his eyebrow when he saw Y/n standing with his sister.

Lily immediately ran over to Jimmy and hugged him tightly, with Y/n walking behind her.

“Hey, Lily.” Jimmy greeted with a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around his sister.

“Hey, Rabbit,” Y/n said with a smirk on her face.

“Y/n… thank you. Honestly. I got so fucking scared.” 

“Hey, language!” Lily called out.

Y/n and Jimmy laughed at Lily's response to her brother swearing.

“Lily, what do you say to Y/n?” Jimmy asked.

“Thank you, Y/n,” Lily responded timidly as her cheeks quickly became red again.

“No problem Lily.” 

“Uh, are you doing anything tomorrow?” Jimmy asked.

“No, I'm free. Why?” Y/n replied, smiling softly.

“Uh, do you maybe wanna do something with me tomorrow? You know, we can get to know each other more.”

“Sounds cool. Where are we going?”

“I'll figure it out. I'll give you my number, hold on.”

Jimmy took a small notebook (about the size of his palm) and pen out of his pocket. He ripped out a page of it and scribbled his number down.

“Do you always just carry a little notebook around with you?” Y/n asked in a teasing manner.

“If I ever get an idea for a lyric randomly, it comes in handy.”

Y/n took the paper from Jimmy before putting it in her pocket.

“Wait, so you saw Rabbit at the grocery store and he asked you out on a date?” Carly asked through the phone.

“Yeah, but it's not a date. He just wants to get to know me.” Y/n replied as she twisted the curly telephone cord.

“That's a date, babe.” 

“No, it's not. We established that over the phone.”

“You got his number?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, where are you guys going?”

“He's got the whole day planned out. We're gonna have breakfast at Chin Tiki-”

“Chin Tiki?”

“I know but he said that they have a really good breakfast menu.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know; I was surprised, too. Anyway, after that we might just take a stroll and then have lunch. Then we might have a little ride around town and I have a feeling we might have dinner as well.”

“Girl, that is a date!”

“He's just being a nice guy.”

“Yeah, a nice guy who desperately wants you to be his girlfriend,” Carly responded sarcastically.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, whatever. Okay, enough about me, what about you? What happened with Wink last night, I didn't get to ask you.”

“Meh, not much. He's cute but not my type. I mean, there's this one guy I'm talking to but-”

“But what?”

“He's really sweet and cute and caring but I have a feeling it might not work out.”

Y/n could practically feel Carly frowning on the other side. “Hey, don't say that. Everything will be fine. Who is this guy anyway?”

“I think it's best if I keep this one secret. I just wanna make sure everything will turn out fine before I say anything.”

“That's fine Carly. I understand.”

“Thanks Y/n.”

“Uh, listen, is it okay if you could do a favour for me please?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“So Jordan is gonna flip if I tell him I'm going out with Rabbit. Is it okay if you can cover and just pretend I'm with you?”

“Of course, girl. I got your back.”

“Okay thank you.”

They talked for another hour or so, catching up with each other and talking about their work before they decided to hang up the call. 

The morning rolled in as the sun's light rays shone down onto Y/n's face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes and tried to adjust the brightness. She suddenly remembered that she was going out with Rabbit today so she immediately got out of bed and started getting ready.

She threw on a simple skirt and a crop top, did her hair and makeup and went downstairs. Jordan was sitting at the table, eating his breakfast quickly so he wouldn't be late for work.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“To Carly's. We're just gonna hang out for the day.” 

Y/n tried to remain casual and calm so her brother wouldn't pick up on her lie.

“Okay, don't do anything dumb. I have to go to work.” Jordan replied.

He quickly got up and left the house. Y/n let out a breath of relief she didn't realise she was holding in. 

A few minutes later, Y/n heard a knock on the door as she ran a little bit too happily to open it. She saw Rabbit leaning his arm against the doorpost, smirking.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yup.” Y/n replied, grabbing her handbag from the table.

As soon as Y/n stepped out the house, she could feel the cold breeze of the Michigan air hit her face and body. She started to regret wearing a skirt and a crop top but she was sure she would eventually adjust to the cold.

They wasted no time getting into the car and buckling up to leave. 

“By the way, I should tell you something.” Y/n said.

“Sure, what's up?” Rabbit asked.

“I kinda lied to Jordan and told him I'm hanging out with my friend Carly.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Jordan would get mad if he found out I was hanging out with one of his friends.”

“Well then why did you say yes to hang out with me?”

“Because you seem like a nice guy and I'd like to get to know you better.” 

Rabbit chuckled. “I'm not the nicest guy, but I guess it's nice you thought that.”

“So are you okay with me lying to my brother?”

“You can do what you want but it kinda feels wrong.”

“That's understandable. We can cancel if you don't wanna do this.”

“No, no. I wanna do this, it'll be cool. I guess we just gotta be… cautious?”

“Yeah. Cautious. We'll be cautious.”

Y/n immediately noticed how different Chin Tiki looked during the day. It looked like a completely different bar. The atmosphere felt more relaxed and calm compared to the lively and noisy atmosphere during the night. There was no one inside except the people working there and Y/n and Rabbit. 

“It doesn't even feel like I'm in Chin Tiki.” Y/n said as she tried to start a conversation.

“I know. It's strange, right?” Rabbit responded.

“How'd you even find out about this?”

“I was just walking around one morning and saw Chin Tiki open so I decided to go in. The best part is that the food is cheap and tastes amazing.”

A second or two later, a waiter came over to their table and gave them their menus. Y/n could feel her mouth water at the food displayed in the menus. There was a wide range of breakfast items from pancakes and waffles to toast and even cereal.

“Wow, I don't even know what to choose.” Y/n chuckled.

“I normally go for the regular waffles. It's simple but it tastes great.” Rabbit replied.

“Hmm, I think I'll go for that then too.”

A few minutes after they ordered, their food came to the tables. The waffles were warm with a crispy edge and a soft inside and middle. The golden, shiny syrup was dripping off the edges and to top it off a small square of soft butter. The waffles tasted sweet and phenomenal and the syrup just made it all the better.

“Damn Rabbit, this is really good. I should come here often.” Y/n praised.

Rabbit smiled softly, knowing that Y/n was enjoying herself so far. “You work at a diner right?” He asked.

“Yeah. Karl's diner. The one around the diner.” 

“I've never been there before. Is it good?”

“The food looks good. I've never eaten there though. I just wait and make the milkshakes. I don't cook any of the food.”

“Maybe I should visit you sometime.”

For the rest of the day, they spent their time driving around and taking strolls. Rabbit showed Y/n some parts of 8 mile he'd always gone when he was younger. Y/n enjoyed watching him talk about his childhood memories of him hanging out with his friends and writing lyrics with them.

The sun started to set and they found a rooftop to sit on to watch the sunset. The sky was like a canvas of yellow, pink and purple watercolours blending into each other as the sun disappeared into the horizon.

Y/n looked down and saw that Chin Tiki was open. The loud music from the inside sounded muffled from where they sat. Bright lights could be seen from shining through the windows and onto the pavement outside.

“Should we go to Chin Tiki?” Y/n asked, nodding her head over to the building.

“Why not.” Rabbit replied.

When they got in, it was more packed and busy than usual. People were in nearly every corner of the bar dancing, talking or drinking. Off to one side of the bar, there were a lot of people dancing together, laughing and having the time of their life— and it easily caught Y/n's attention.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” She asked.

“I can't dance.” Rabbit replied.

“That makes the two of us.” 

Y/n chuckled and grabbed Rabbit's hand and dragged him over. She put her hands at the side of his neck while he rested his hands on the waistband of the skirt. They swayed to the music and held each other closer as the second went by. 

What they didn't notice was Jordan and the other guys walking into Chin Tiki and taking a seat at a table. Whilst all the guys were having a conversation, Cheddar spotted two familiar faces on the dance floor holding each other close and swaying. Y/n and Rabbit.

“Hey Jordan, isn't that your sister with Rabbit?” Cheddar asked.

Jordan and all the guys immediately looked up and spotted Rabbit and Y/n putting their hands on each other and dancing.

Rabbit's hand went down Y/n thigh and slowly trailed down it. He picked her leg up and gently brought her knee to his hip. Y/n moved her head back as Rabbit moved his nose along her neck. For a moment, it felt like they were the only ones in the room. When Y/n brought her head back, their noses slightly brushed.

“You're not too bad.” She whispered.

“You too.” Rabbit responded.

Jordan had enough and came storming over feeling engulfed in anger. He pulled Rabbit off his sister and pushed him on a table. Everyone in the club fell silent and turned to watch what was happening.

“What the fuck are you doing with my sister man?!” Jordan shouted angrily.

Rabbit quickly got up and brushed himself off. “I'm just dancing with her, man.”

“Dancing with her, yeah? You're putting your fucking hands all over her!” Jordan quickly turned to his sister and that's when she could really see the anger through his eyes. “And you! You said you were with Carly!”

Before Y/n could say anything, Jordan grabbed her hand and dragged her outside to the parking lot. Rabbit and the guys followed behind.

“What do you think you were doing?! Getting all close with him like that!” Jordan exclaimed.

“We were just dancing! Hanging out!” Y/n replied, even louder than her brother.

“You lied to me! You said you were with Carly!”

“Fine! Yes! I lied! Me and Rabbit bumped into each other at the store yesterday and decided to hang out.”

“Why?”

“We just wanted to talk and get to know each other better after we met the night before. Plus, we had nothing else to do.”

“So you lied to me.”

“You wouldn't let me go. And don't lie to me saying that you would've said yes.”

Jordan stayed silent and kissed his teeth. “Fine. I wouldn't have you let go but that's because Rabbit's my friend! You know how fucking weird it would be if my sister doing shit with my best friend?!”

“We weren't doing anything!”

“That little dance that you had sure proved something.”

“Why are you so overprotective over me?! I'm twenty fucking two, I'm an adult! I can make my own decisions, I don't need you dictating me! Gosh, you are such a bad brother!” Y/n shouted. She could her voice crack as tears slipped out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I'm going home.” 

Y/n wasted no time leaving the car park and walking past the guys. “Show’s over.” She muttered to them.

As she left the car park and started walking on the pavement back home, Rabbit quickly caught up with her.

“Y/n.” He breathed out when reached her.

“Leave me alone Rabbit. I'll just make it worse for you.”

“Don't worry about me.” 

“I just ruined your friendship with your best friend. I'm such a dick. I should've just told the truth.”

“Y/n, don't worry about that. I'll deal with myself. Are you okay?”

“Not really. I feel like a slut.”

“You're not.”

“Really? Because the way I was dancing with you sure said something.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“Me too.”

They both stopped walking and faced each other as they looked into each other's eyes. 

“Look, I had a nice night,” Rabbit began. “And I know it ended really badly but I think I've never enjoyed hanging out with a girl this much until tonight.”

“Really?” Y/n asked.

Rabbit nodded.

“I haven't hung out with a guy like this in ages. I guess I enjoyed tonight too.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Sure.”

The walk back home was quiet and brought a comfortable silence with it. When they got home, Rabbit gave Y/n a small hug and whispered in her ear:

“Call me if you need anything, you have my number.”

Y/n nodded and shut the door gently. She changed out of her clothes and jumped into bed whilst wrapping the covers around her tightly. Tears of regret and sadness spilled out her eyes and fell onto her pillow. She tried to sleep as soon as she could as she had work tomorrow.

Eventually, Y/n fell into a slumber, her last thought being Rabbit.

[lexsssu]

NGL, you mentioning Leon Kennedy is now making me think he's clingy af to everyone who loves him, 'cause I've been getting the urge to replay RE2R/RE4 recently just because of him.

To, uh, gaze at him respectfully. Very respectfully. 👀👀👀

Bro yesssssssssssss

I swear that bby boi is so affection-starved after everything that happened to him that the moment he finds real love, there's no way he's holding back <3

And with that, here's what I came up for Leon so far because he decided to invade my dreams-- HAHAHAHA

TAGS: Older!Leon (late 30s-early 40s)/F!reader(early-mid 20s), age gap, pervy thoughts, affection-starved!Leon, headcanons Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

Older!Leon who'd all but given up any semblance of a normal relationship after everything he's gone through. He lazes about in the coach of the cheap apartment he sentenced himself into living in (despite the swanky and secure government housing freely provided as one of the top agents) with a cold beer while some random series was playing on low volume on the TV

Older!Leon who hears knocking on his door and begrudgingly answers it only to be met with the prettiestcutestmostgorgeousmouthwatering person he'd ever seen in his life

Older!Leon gets a full whiff of your strawberries & cream scent even before you opened your mouth and has him thinking of everything that is innocent, good, and worth protecting in this world. He then realizes that you'd already introduced yourself and that he'd been staring at you like a creep this whole time

“Kennedy…Uhhh…Leon S. Kennedy,” he half mumbles and states as he tries not to look too deeply into your eyes lest he finds himself lost in their depths. He doesn’t need to look more of a creep than you might have already thought he was

 And when you don’t immediately run for the hills, he internally sighs in relief. It’s a foreign feeling to him, because after all the horrors he’d witnessed and experienced, the last thing he ever worried about was how other people perceived him

That he was actually worried about what you thought about him despite having only met is both alarming and yet somehow…comforting? It tells him that despite how broken he thinks he is, he’s not so broken as to no longer care at all about anything

…It also helps that you’re such a cutie that it’s impossible for him not to care about you. Especially when you keep bringing him your homemade food all the time

The animal part of his brain rumbles with pleasure at how you were already being such a good mate by making sure he’s well-fed when he’d yet to properly bond you to him. It reinforces the idea that some part of you unconsciously knew that he was the one for you

“It’s the first time I’ve lived on my own, and I guess I’m just not used to making only food for one. I don’t like letting food go to waste either, so I thought maybe one of the neighbors might appreciate it. Safe to say that I never get to any of the other neighbors since you’re always gratefully accepting my cooking, Mr. Kennedy”

Had he been a lesser man, your playful teasing would have resulted in you pinned to the floor as he loomed over you, covering your naughty little mouth with his. He could already imagine the tiny squeak you’d let out in surprise or the delicious whimpers he’d coax from your plush lips that he’d only swallow up

“I think we’re more than acquainted enough to get past our surnames, don’t you think? Just Leon is fine with me, doll.” 

The first time he hears his given name spoken from your lips, his traitorous brain conjures up an image of you with your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head as he fucks your pretty pussy open with his cock 

Was he getting too attached because you were the first person outside of the dangerous world he lived in who showed genuine care without expecting anything in return?

…Perhaps

But did he really care? 

Honestly, no

If anything, it’s only a matter of time until he no longer had to imagine waking up next to you in the morning or getting back home from a mission or the office and having you wrapped in a pretty little apron without anything underneath waiting patiently for him

[quintessencewrites]

I'm IronHeart

college student! Riri x college student!fem!black! reader

“You gon stop fucking up my pretty face-” 

“You only like it when its pretty?”

A smile broke across both your faces, her shiny rows of perfectly white teeth winking at you from between the prettiest brown lips you’d ever seen. “It’s always pretty,” you ran your fingers down her cheeks once more.

Warnings: Angst!!! suggestive tones, no actual smut though (sorry, y'all this one is just a tease), fluff, N-word usage, explicit language, implied cheating, some of y'all might not like how reader and Riri talk to each other, but it's just their dynamic, and I think it's cute (I also like em toxic, though sooo), probably some that I missed.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @shurislover @6-noir @ihearttish @vampzxi @verachii @phantomof-themcu @taiiunknown @sapphicvqmpires @pocketsizedpanther @oceean @venusdraco-deactivated20230701

“Nah, baby, you ain’ listening to me-”

“I’m listenin’, you just wrong-” Riri’s chuckle was deep, her vocal cords vibrating through the smoke clouding her lungs. 

A once-fat blunt sat snug between her index finger and thumb, passing from her parted brown lips to yours, sitting so prettily and plump.

“Well, if you listening, you ain’ hearing me.”

Riri’s free hand was tangled in your curls, tugging at your scalp every so often. The scent of sativa would be embedded in your tresses, coating the bedding beneath you. The two of you were stuck, your highs weighing heavy on your limbs and freezing you in a statuesque space.

 You laid between Riri’s legs, your head against her torso, eyes closed and finger waving at nothing in particular, illustrating your point for your stubborn girl to follow. 

“I’m not tryna hear you, ma-”

It wasn’t a real argument. The two of you were stifling giggles through your disagreement, both trying hard to get your points across. 

“I’m just saying, Ri-”

“Uh huh,” she lulled lazily.

“If she was a good superhero, she wouldn’t have to hide her identity!”

“What if she’s a good superhero because she hides her identity?” Riri countered.

Her rebuttal had you stuck for a moment, your usually quick mind slowed greatly due to your intoxication. 

“No? No, that’s not how that works, Ri-”

“It is-”

“It isn’t! Tony Stark was Iron Man, right?” You were upright at this point, right hand squeezed tight into a fist, punching your open hand to accentuate your statements. “Iron Man was a good superhero, and we knew his identity.”

Riri’s mouth was open, but your words were trampling hers.

“T’Challa didn’t hide that he was The Black Panther-”

“But-”

“And neither did Shuri! She goes to our school for fuck’s sake-”

You were giving her no chance to argue back, your voice climbing octaves each time she tried to speak.

Your chin fit in Riri’s hand like a perfect puzzle and she used it to draw you near her, taking what was left of the barely-there joint and embedding it between your lips. “Shh, baby. You gotta let me talk.”

The prolongtivity of your high redirected your attention and Riri took her chance to make her counter-point, albeit, a pathetic one.

“Spiderman’s a great superhero, and we don’t know his identity.”

Silence was your only response and your eyes darting to the ground brought a slick smirk to your girl’s face.

“You saying Spiderman not a great hero?”

“I ain’ say a thing-”

“Exactly-”

Your snicker came out much louder than you intended, but Riri wasn’t jarred by it. “You gave me one hero to prove your ‘secrecy is better’ bullshit and he’s another one of Tony’s lackeys. I gave you three, one of whom, IronHeart took her identity from to begin with!”

“She ain’ take her identity from nobody-”

“Fine, her “mentor” then,” the air-quotes emphasizing your words were full of sarcasm.

“Her mentor, who inspired her-”

“She was so inspired that she copied the suit, but wanna keep her name a secret?  I just wanna see the little white girl who got a chance with Tony Stark because of daddy’s money.”

Riri’s mouth hung open, shock furrowing her brows and stunting her words. The corners of her mouth twitched, unsure if she should laugh or scowl. Little sounds crept from the back of her throat and they couldn’t come together to form a full sentence. 

Laughter poured from your lips, the expression on her face tickling you greatly. Slight giggles grew to guffaw chuckles, producing an annoyed eye roll from the girl sitting across from you. 

The weight of the bed shifted as she stood, head shaking at your goofy ass. “Not a damn thing funny, y/n.” Riri’s words were stoic, though one look at her face revealed the smile she failed to hide. 

“N-no, no, don’t go, baby. I’m sorry-” the half-assed apology came out in gasps, trying and struggling to catch your breath as your laughter died down.

“No, you not. Gon laugh at me right in my face-” Ri grumbled, walking across the room to retrieve her bag.

You rose to your knees, arms reaching for Riri, feigning her hurt in the corner of your room. “I am, I am, Ri. Come on, you don’t gotta leave-”

She takes a step back toward you, letting your hand enclose around hers while she brought her free one up to her face. LED numbers blared from the watch clapsed on her wrist. “Actually, I do, baby. I was supposed to be gone ten minutes ago.” Riri only had five minutes before her chem class was set to start without her and the quick thought to skip it crossed her mind. 

You were many things, though a mind-reader wasn’t one of them. You could have had Riri fooled, however, with the way your next words mirrored her thoughts.

“Skip it-”

She could- Bast knows how badly she just wanted to get back into bed with you, riding out this high you were experiencing together-

But she wouldn’t.

“I can’t, baby-”

“You can!” Your shoulders jumped slightly with the wince produced from hearing how whiny you sounded.

“I can’t.” Her no was final. “I gotta get a good education-” Ri stepped closer, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. “So I can get a good ass job-” A duplicate kiss landed on your cheek. “And make a lot of money-” And the other cheek. “So I can afford to keep your bougie ass happy.” This time her lips touched yours, softly. 

You wanted so badly to deepen the kiss, to graze your tongue against hers and taste the smokiness off of it. Before you could snake your hands around her neck and pull her down into you, Riri pulled away, causing an annoyed sigh to escape your parted lips. 

“When you coming back?”

Riri’s hand ran across her face, her slender fingers pressing against her temples just slightly. “Um, probably late tonight. I got statistics after chemistry and we got an exam tomorrow so I need to study without any distractions.” She looks pointedly at you when ‘distractions’ falls from her mouth. 

Your eyes are suddenly drawn to the carpet beneath her planted feet, not trying to hear her go on again about her failed physics test a few weeks ago. “Haines let you make it up though and you passed the second time-”

Mhm, she hums quietly. “Just lemme get your spare, in case you sleep when I get here.”

Still avoiding eye contact, you point to your messy desk on the other side of the room and Riri strides over to it to retrieve the key before heading to your door. Her five minutes have long gone and she’s going to have to sprint across campus to make it to class, a task she’s not looking forward to. 

“No goodbye kiss?” You question in a final attempt to change her mind.

It doesn’t work. “Mwah,” Ri’s lips pucker in your direction and just as quickly as it opened, the heavy door shuts behind her. 

Too many hours have passed. Your eyelids grew heavy not too long after Riri had left and what you’d promised yourself would be “just a quick nap,” turned into you peering back into the world nearly five hours later.

“Shit,” you mumbled under your breath, sitting up slowly with the ache of sore muscles almost pulling you down once more. 

The sky beyond your open window was dark, a deep pitch-black coating everything in its cloak. Classes had ended long ago and Riri was probably holed up in her room, her nose buried in a book as thick as she. 

When her tiny frame took place in the seat across from you in the cafe the next morning, it did so with a thud full of exhaustion.

Her head stayed down, her eyes cast on the croissant untouched before her. 

“Fuck wrong with you?” You questioned, elbows pressing into the table, through a mouthful of fruit. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“What happened to starting a sentence with ‘good morning’”? Her face rose slowly and it didn’t take you long to notice the imperfection running across her otherwise perfect skin. 

It was long, stretching from her left cheek, across the bridge of her nose and stopping just short of her right eye. The thin mark had already begun to scab over but it’s undertones were a deep red and the damn thing looked painful. 

Panic was your first reaction, your hand darting out to imbed your index finger and thumb into her cheeks and draw her face closer. “What the fuck happened to you?” You turned her head every which way, inspecting the mark with careful eyes. 

Riri was silent. 

“Hello? Riana Williams-”

“You don’t gotta use my government-”

“What the hell happened to you? You said you was gonna hit the books, you ain’t say they was gonna hit you back.”

The tiny smile that played across her lips softened your heart just a bit. “You think you funny?”

“No, but you do.” Your hand dropped from her face, finally releasing her from your hold. “What did you do?”

Riri’s mouth opened, but the words didn’t want to come out. She fumbled about them, pausing for a moment before a sigh was the only thing she could respond with. 

“Nothing, baby. Just a little accident in the garage-”

“Garage? When was you in the garage, Ri? I thought you was gonna go to class and study-”

“And I did,” her hands reach across the table to grab both of yours, bringing them to her lips for a brief kiss. “Went to make some alterations to a project for my metallurgy class. Fell asleep there last night.”

“Okay, but even so, you know to be careful, Riana-”

“You gon stop calling me-”

“You gon stop fucking up my pretty face-” 

“You only like it when its pretty?”

A smile broke across both your faces, her shiny rows of perfectly white teeth winking at you from between the prettiest brown lips you’d ever seen. “It’s always pretty,” you ran your fingers down her cheeks once more.

She catches the palm of your hand with her lips in a quick kiss before rising to her feet. “We hanging after class?”

You’re peering up at her with pretty brown eyes, so round, so full of life they sparkle. “You got time for me with all the studying you got to do?”

Her gaze scans the watch that never leaves her wrist, pretending to analyze it for a moment before responding. “I can pencil you in. 6?”

“Oh you can pencil me in?” Laughter rings through your words, flowing straight to Riri’s ears, mimicking your actions. “Get your goofy ass gone.”

“Love you,” Her lips touch your forehead much too quickly for your liking before her steps retreat and the sway of her hips hypnotize you as she leaves.

The day goes by too fucking slowly, the little hands on the clock barely moving, as though to tease you. Each class drags on and on and on, until the sun finally sets on the horizon, threatening to bring the day to an end. 

The time had rounded out well past 6. 

“If you gon cancel on me, at least have the decency to say so-” The phone sat balanced between your cheek and shoulder, keeping the receiver close to your ear as you moved about your room, trashing the rose petals that littered your sheets and stashing the already wrapped blunts on your bedside table. 

“We gon work on your greetings, baby.” Riri spoke, voice deep and stuffy.

“Riri, cut the shit. Where you at and why it ain’t my bed?”

“Because I’m in my bed, baby.” She sniffled, throat thick.

“Why? And why you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“You sound gross.” 

“Damn, thanks. I ain’ feeling good-”

“Probably cuz you slept in that cold ass garage last night instead of next to me where you was supposed to be-.”

Riri paused, allowing your sarcasm to cut her sentence straight down the middle. “I’m gonna just kick it here tonight, baby.”

You’d be lying had you said you weren’t upset. Riri had been around you sick more times than you could count; this time didn’t have to be any different. “A’ight, well, want me to bring you something? Soup or some shit? We can just chill in bed with a movie? I can hold you-”

This time it was Ri who cut you off. “I’m good, baby. I’ll just rest tonight and we can make it up tomorrow.”

The swiftness with which she rejected you stung, along with the tears forming behind your lids. “Okay,” you answered bluntly.

Riri could hear the hurt in your voice, wanting to alleviate it just as she’d caused it, but she pressed onward. 

“Okay, baby. Love you.”

She hadn’t even given you time to repeat the words of affection before she’d hung up.

The more minutes that passed, the more time angry thoughts had to stir in your mind. Moving from your couch to your bed to your desk chair wasn’t enough to calm your maddened nerves. Your feet continued to shuffle, though they brought you nowhere. 

Riri was pulling away, acting all funny and shit. Maybe it was the stress of school, the end of the academic year nearing, finals looming over your heads. You could imagine her, sickly and snotty, buried beneath a stack of textbooks. 

Your hands worked quicker than your mind had the time to process. The only remedy food you had was the canned crap, but it would have to do. Keys in one hand and can in the other, you trekked into the night. 

She’d feel some type away about you interrupting her studying; maybe be slightly annoyed by your risk to her germs, but there wasn’t a single fiber in you that cared. 

The night air was warm and damp, the walk to her dorm a rather short one. 

One quick knock, followed with silence. Riri’s door remained shut, without a sound on the other end. Another knock, then one more before you grew impatient. “Ugh, I got that damn key somewhere-” The keys on your ring jingled too loudly in the quiet hall. There were too many keys, all similar shapes and most not having a lock to open.

You tried one and failed. Your girl was a hard sleeper; it was no surprise that she didn’t stir to let you in if she wasn’t awake. Another key was inserted into the lock carefully, and that too failed.

“Shit-”

The wooden door rattled beneath your knocks, attempting once more to pry it open with a different key. Your sigh of relief echoed off the still walls when the key turned and the lock clicked. 

You entered the room slowly, not wanting the light from the hall to wake your sleeping girl in her dark space. On the tips of your toes and with the gentlest fingers, you shut the door behind you until its hinges locked in place and the darkness in the room swallowed you once more. 

Shoes at the door and keys beside them, you turned to look about the room, expecting to see Ri hunched over her desk with drool falling from her lips or in her bed, covers drawn over her head. 

To say you were surprised to see neither was an understatement. Her desk sat clean and bare, her bed unmade but untouched. 

Bathroom; she’s gotta be in the bathroom.

You walked toward the door, gathering your weight on the knob until it gave way. It was dark, empty. 

Riri was nowhere to be found in the small space. Several thoughts ran through your mind and none of them made sense. 

Maybe she went to get food? Your phone illuminated the dim dorm and the line trilled, over and over and over again before it was the voicemail that greeted you and not Riri’s voice. 

Maybe she went for a walk? Again, the line rang and rang and rang, and again, there was no answer. 

Maybe she went to get meds? The line didn’t even ring anymore; each call was answered by an automated voice messaging system.

60 minutes passed with you seated on Riri’s bed, full of worry. 

90 minutes passed and you shifted from the bed to the loveseat with worry turned to anger.

Two and a half hours later and sleep began to weigh heavy on your lids as you sat behind her desk.

Three hours later, you got up and walked out of her room, leaving behind the unopened can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup and the spare key to her dorm. 

Your sleep was restless, interrupted by frequent glances at your phone screen, expecting, hoping for a missed call from Riri. Hell, even a text would have sufficed. 

There was nothing. 

Worry swept through you once more, seated at the same table the two of you met at each and every day, alone. 

Should you go to the police? Or campus security? Maybe the dean-

The chair across from you slid away from the table with an awful scraping noise as metal kissed metal and in plopped Riri.

Her hands held a heavy plate, balanced with toast and eggs, bacon and fruit. There was more food than there was Riri to consume it, but she dug in as though she hadn’t tasted food in weeks. 

You couldn’t help the look of bewilderment that you were sure posed itself upon your face. There was no way that was really Riri; it had to be a mirage or a hallucination. You must’ve been losing your mind. You had to be.

She finally looked up, eyes wide and mouth full. “You want some?” Riri gestured to the plate sitting in front of her, half its contents already in her stomach.

An ugly scoff crept from the back of your throat and she reeled back, just slightly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Your neck jumped forward, your curls falling from the top of your head as it cocked to the side. “Nigga, are you forreal right now?” your voice was low, words hissing out between your clenched jaw.

Her sculpted brows furrowed at the center, a deep frown taking place on her cheeks. “What’s your problem, ma?”

The anger that boiled within you almost escaped in a growl, teeth barren at the oblivious girl before you. “Riri, where the hell were you last night?”

“What?” she asked through a bacon-stuffed mouth. “I was in my room, baby. I already told you I would be there-”

You almost jumped across the table at her. She gon sit there and lie to your face? That’s what we were doing now?

“Riana Goddamn Williams-”

“Ion like hearing my name come out your mouth like that-”

“I don’t give much of a fuck what you like right now, Riri. It’s taking everything in me to not fuck you up- Where were you?”

“I was in my room-”

“Was you in your room when I came by? Hm? Cuz I couldn’t find you. You invented invisibility or some shit?”

The hand holding toast stopped just short of her lips as your words sank in. “You came by?”

If it were even possible, your face contorted further, anger, no, fucking rage had you vibrating like the phone she didn’t answer. “You didn’t even notice? The can of soup I brought to nurse your lying ass back to health? The key I fucking left? I was there for three fucking hours, Ri-”

Riri’s eyes flashed. “You left your key?”

You ignored her. “The dozens of calls I left you? You ain’ notice none of that shit?”

“Calls?” She dropped the food back onto her plate, hands patting at the pockets on her jeans. “Phone, where’s my phone?”

“Wow,” her actions pulled forth a deep hurt. She hadn’t even noticed.

“Baby, I-”

The deep sound of a throat clearing stole your attention away from each other and to the curly-haired girl standing just short of where you were seated. 

Shuri Udaku.

She looked uncomfortable, lips tucked between her teeth, hand held out toward Riri awkwardly. “Um, my bad. I don’t mean to interrupt-” She stumbled over her words, her soft voice barely loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the crowded cafeteria. “Riri, you, uh, left this last night-”

If looks could kill, Riri would be six feet under and then some. The slow turn of your head back in her direction was scorching, your glare burning a hole so deep into her skull, she winced. You watched her carefully retrieve whatever was in the girl’s hand, moving slowly, as if moving too quickly would cause the thing to ignite. 

It was her phone, screen cracked. The wallpaper displayed a broken image of you and your lover, one where your lips were locked together, now fractured straight down the center, separating the two of you and confining your still images on separate sides of the screen. 

The sound that came from you was drawn from deep, and pooled with pain. Your mouth hung open, stuck in the position as words struggled to come together and form a sentence. 

Riri’s hands flew in front of her, as if they could be a shield from your fury. “I-in the garage, right Shuri?” She turned to the Panther, still standing there with a look of pure confusion written across her face. 

“W-we was just in the garage, baby-”

No more. You didn’t want to hear anymore. Standing to your feet was an uneasy task, your legs wobbling beneath you, threatening to give out. In a swift motion, your bag was swung over your shoulder and through blurred vision, you let your feet guide you to the exit.

“Y/n-” Riri called out, moving as though she were about to follow you. A large hand rested on her shoulder, holding her back and pulling her away. “Ri, we gotta go-”

A day full of missed classes and tears with ugly cries and snot and sobs that wrecked your body from the inside out. 

Two days full of missed calls and so many unread texts that you’d lost count. Your blankets smelled like her, so you slept on the floor in a jacket. Her hoodie, her favorite hoodie laid across your desk chair, untouched. Her shoes sat beside your door, her toothbrush in your bathroom. The very dorm room you couldn’t pull yourself from reminded you so much of the one you didn’t want to remember.

Three days before sadness turned to anger, unadulterated fucking fury. Her favorite hoodie was nothing more than shreds of thick fabric, scissors thrown on the floor beside them. Her shoes drawn all over with your mascara brush, filled with vegetable oil, with awkward holes from the scissors made into their design as well. Her toothbrush had taken a swim in the toilet, then outside across the carpeted hallway before being thrown back into the toilet.

You’d reached that point of grief where sleep was a thing that no longer existed. The clock above your door read just past 3am and you had yet to close your eyes and rest. The shoes beside the door caught your eye again, along with the pieces scattered across the room that you’d cut out of them.

There was always a chance that Riri was awake right now… She’d want her shit back eventually-

You didn’t sit long enough to talk yourself out of the idea, instead gathering all of her now-destroyed belongings into a grocery bag and heading for the door.

The walk from your dorm to hers was instinctual, your footsteps falling into the same pattern they’d taken every night for the past two years. You stood in front of her door, arms by your side, thoughts racing. You’d returned your key, and hadn’t made a copy, and if you knocked, your ‘surprise’ would be ruined.

You started to turn away, doubt beginning to pool your mind. Maybe you should just go- 

Something in you told you to just try, to push on the door handle and see if it opened beforeheading home and admitting defeat.

Riri was smarter than that, so you thought. She wasn’t gonna be sitting in her room, this time of night, with the damn door unlocked-

The poor girl had truly been slacking, because the heavy door gave way, creaking quietly as you stepped into the dark space. 

Her room was pitch black and undisturbed, so quiet that the sound of you closing it seemed to have echoed.

You looked about the room, eyes searching for Riri. A deep, disgusting feeling settled in the pit of your stomach when you thought that maybe she wasn’t there. Maybe she was with the Princess, laid up in her bed the same way she used to lay in yours-

A low, breathy sigh floated through the air from the bed in the corner of the room and you stared for a moment, allowing your eyes to adjust to the darkness. There, in her bed, was a large figure. It’s chest rose and fell with each silent breath, inhaling and exhaling to its own rhythm.

You were truly tired of being angry, though it truly angered you, seeing her be able to rest so easily, so peacefully, while sleep, or peace, or fucking stillness refused to visit you, leaving you up, sick and anxious over feelings she’d caused-

You hadn’t realized your feet drawing you closer to Riri’s bed until you were nearly beside it. A foot hung over the side of the mattress, but it was large. Too large to be Riri’s, the petite girl only wore a size 7-

The same could be said for the arm that had escaped the blanket. It was thick and- red? The material held a reflection, though there was no light present in the room.

What the hell-?

The thought couldn’t even be completed in your mind. You stepped beside the bed, fully taking in the monster taking your Riri’s place. This was some red riding hood and the wolf disguised as granny shit-

Your eyes traveled slowly, up and around, soaking up every bit of unfamiliarity before you, from the blackened hand with a crucified pit in the palm to the black emblem in the center of the chest, outlining a glowing blue “V”. You squinted, mind racing. You’d seen that crest before, but where?

The further north your vision moved, the harder your heart thumped behind your chest. The scarlet metal continued upward, protecting it’s wearer’s throat, and scalp, leaving an opening across the face where a mask would be-

But there is no mask.

Your hand flies to your mouth to conceal the scream that almost climbs from your bosom. Those eyes, you know those eyes, shaped like almonds, so dark and wise, shut behind the smoothest lids and prettiest lashes. 

You knew that nose, the one you glued your lips to so often, just to watch it scrunch up, an accessory to that smile, behind those lips you knew so well. The feel of them, their shape. You could map out every indent, every wrinkle on those precious lips. 

It was a hard sight to take in in silence, peering down on Riri’s face as though she lay in a coffin. She was so still, so silent, that had it not been for the rise and fall of her chest, you wouldn’t have been sure she was alive.

Your eyes fell to the symbol on her chest once more, mind trying so hard to place it. You knew that symbol, you knew you knew that symbol, but where-

Images of IronHeart flashed through your mind without permission.

IronHeart, who had a whole YouTube channel dedicated to sightings of her.

IronHeart, who almost always fought alongside The Black Panther- Shuri.

IronHeart, the little white girl who’d gotten a chance with Tony Stark because of daddy’s money.

IronHeart, who was your Riri.

You could feel your breath catch in your throat as the pieces fell into place.

You needed to go. You stumbled backwards, steps failing you, hand still drawn over your mouth as bile threatened to make its way up. The room was suddenly too small, the hallway was too small, the damn building was too small. 

The air outside was warm, and the gasp you inhaled was quickly followed by a sob that emptied your lungs of the air you’d just blessed them with. 

You didn’t know how, but your feet were moving, bringing you back to the solitude of your own room and finally failing you when you reached your door. It would have been a pathetic sight to see, you on all fours, sobbing loudly, face drenched as you crawled through your front door and shut it again behind you. 

Your back slammed against the heavy oak, your knees bending until your thighs met your chest. The sounds that were coming from your mouth were ugly, the tears bulbous. 

My God, My God. She had been lying to you. For months, for years, maybe longer? You weren’t worthy enough to share her secret, not trusted enough to know her identity, to take part in her double life. 

There were too many fucking thoughts and it was too fucking late at night, and the tears in your eyes and exhaustion in your muscles did nothing to keep you awake long enough to battle those feelings. Sleep took you under, quickly and stealthily, not even giving you a chance to make it to the bed first.

And yet, somehow, you awoke in your bed, the blanket drawn to your chin and the smell of Riri embedded in it bringing you a slight comfort.

Then memories of the night came flooding back and though your body begged you to do nothing more than remain horizontal, your mind shot you straight up. The room was bright, the sun already raised high in the sky and you couldn’t fathom what time of day it must’ve been.

What was left of the heart beating in your chest was already aching. It nearly beat right out of your body when a voice sounded off from across the room.

“Good morning.”

Her voice was low, deeper than usual, and coated in anything but pleasantries. Riri sat at your desk, dressed in all black, her signature gold chain adorning her neck, and her straight-back cornrows collected into a bun at her nape. 

So many emotions ran through you at once. Fear and desire, but the one that stood out, the one that had been most prominent these days, was rage. 

And it showed. Riri saw it immediately in your face, with the way your brows drew together and the corner of your mouth curled into a snarl. Your nose scrunched and your glare burned. 

She could hear it in your words, your vocal cords tight, your voice sounding unlike yourself. “Get out-”

Riri’s sigh drew another emotion forth from you: annoyance. “When somebody says ‘good morning’, you’d typically say it back-”

Your feet hit the floor with a thud, and your restraint was a God-given thing. “Get out my room, Riri-”

The small girl stood as well, hands deep in her pockets. “Nah.”

An insincere chuckle escaped your lips, masking the disbelief that jumped out of you. “Nah? Fuck you mean ‘nah’, nigga-”

The space separating the two of you was barely a few feet and Riri closed it in no time. “Sit down, y/n-”

“I don’t take orders from you no more, Riri-”

“Sit down!” Her voice never changed octaves, but the firmness in her tone left no room for argument. You didn’t want to turn your back to her to climb back upon your lofted bed, instead trying (and failing) to hop on backwards.

Riri couldn’t sit and watch you struggle; her hands fell into place at your hips like they had so many times before and you pushed them off quickly, trying to remove them as if they burned. “Get your hands off-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Riri had you in the air and seated on your mattress. “Just accept the help, damn.”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the two of you, you upon the bed, arms crossed, and Riri, pacing the room, hands rubbing the back of her neck.

“You know; I know you know.”

“Know what?”

Riri pauses her stride long enough to look at you with a sad smile. “C’mon, baby, you ain’t never been stupid.”

The tears that collect behind your eyes are traitors and you tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling and willing them back from which they came. “Yeah, Ri. I know.”

“You came by last night?”

“I came by last night.”

“Destroyed my shit?”

“You deserved it.”

When you brought your vision back on the girl standing across from you, the tears finally betrayed you. They ran over your lids silently, no sobs this time, no snot. 

Riri could only stare back, tears of her own threatening to swell and run over. 

“So you the little white girl with daddy’s money?”

Your words caught Ri off guard, an gross-sounding snort came from the back of her throat before the tears finally spilled and her hands flew to her face to catch them. “You know ain’ nothing in that statement true-”

“But you let me say it. You let me sit here looking stupid while you knew what was true and I didn’t-”

“How was I supposed to tell you, baby?”

“How bout, ‘Y/n, I’m IronHeart?’”

Silence took place between the two of you for a moment before Riri cleared her throat.

“Y/n, I’m Ironheart.” Riri’s voice trailed off and her hands flew to her face, catching the assortment of pillows you’d just chucked at her in retaliation.

“Nigga, you not fucking funny!”

“You right, you right, ma. My bad.” Riri tossed the pillows to the floor, taking baby steps forward, until the space between you was closed and your body was trapped by her forearms sinking into the mattress on either side of you and her head falling into your lap. 

You couldn’t help the hand that rose in response or the gentleness with which your fingers traced the parts between her braids. “How long?” 

“How long-?” Riri trailed off, not understanding the half-asked question you were presenting her with.

“How long you been a fucking superhero, Ri?” 

Her head sunk further into your thighs, as if she were trying to hide and you knew you wouldn’t like the answer.

“Only ‘bout six months-”

“Six months,” you repeated.

Mhm, she hummed back. “Six months. Had the suit built for a while, just to see if I could build it, but it was nothing like the one I got now-”

“Where that one come from? Your Princess get it for you?”

Her head rose quickly, furrowed gaze falling in line with yours. “My what? Shuri?”

Had your eyes rolled any harder, they would have rolled right out your head.

Riri’s shook back and forth, her chain swaying in response. “Nah, ma. I ain’ never step out on you; you know it ain’ even like that. Shuri’s my nigga.” She stood just a bit straighter, bringing your faces together and resting her forehead on yours. “You my Princess.”

The anger that still resided within you told you to just push her away.

But you didn’t. You let your eyes close and a sweet sigh escape your lips. “But you been lying to me.”

“I have-”

“For six months-”

“A secret identity a secret for a reason, baby-”

“But Shuri knew-”

Riri was standing at her full height, though it was still just a tab bit shorter than you. “Stop, baby, that ain’ the same thing! Shuri got this shit running through her veins; she can protect herself and her own if somebody pose a threat. She got a whole goddamn army behind her, y/n!”

“So-”

The way her eyebrow jumped to the top of her face, the way her eyes darkened and her scowl deepened, told you to shut the fuck up.

“Nah, y/n, lemme finish” her words were accentuated with a growl. “I’m new to this, baby, like hella new. All I got is a suit and a big brain. I couldn’t save myself when my vibranium detector got my ass into trouble; how the hell am I supposed to save you?”

For the first time in your life, you sat silent.

“Iron Man could afford to make his identity known; so can Shuri, and so could her brother. I can’t, baby, not yet. I got something to lose-”

“You don’t got to announce it to the world, Riri, but you could’ve told me!”

“I couldn’t at the time, baby.” Her words are softer, her voice much softer. You feel her hands grab at your waist, pulling you close and holding tight, as if you’d disappear if she were to let go. “You don’t know how to not be in control-”

“Bitch-”

The small chuckle Riri releases makes your toes curl, just slightly. “Lemme finish, ma. You don’t know how to not be in control, and if your little ass saw I was in any sort of trouble, you’d rush in to play ‘Captain Save-the-Day’.”

You couldn’t help the pout that played at your lips. She was right, but she ain’ had to say all that. “So?”

“So?” Riri gripped at your skin harder, her fingers sinking into the suppleness of your curves. “Y/n, baby, you got the big brain, but you don’t got the suit. Don’t got the army, don’t got this shit running in your blood.” Her voice gets tight again, her eyes locked in on yours. “I need you to hear me, y/n, forreal, when I say this shit, okay?”

She doesn’t get a response from you and frustration is fueling her movements. Her hand flies to your chin, gripping it hard and pulling your gaze firmly onto hers. “I need you to listen, y/n. You listening, baby?”

“I’m listening-”

“I don’t need you to save me. Ion need you running in after me, or nothing-”

“Ri-”

Her fingers are pressing into your side hard enough to leave indents now, and her hand has shifted from your chin to your cheeks as she sinks her thumb and index finger into either side. “Listen.” Riri’s voice is full of venom, emphasizing the seriousness of which you know she’s speaking. Your lips press together and all you can do in response is nod.

“I do not need you trying to save me,” each syllable is emphasized through her clenched teeth. “I got this-let me save the world, and you, okay?”

“What am I supposed to do, Ri? Watch you get beat around, wait for you to come back to me all bruised and battered?” your eyes travel to the remnants of the scar that snakes along her face. 

“Be my number one fan?” Riri’s voice rises with a slight tease. “Cheer me on, baby.”

“Go, Ri, go!” sarcasm is dripping through your cheer, but the smile on your face is genuine and it pulls forth an equally sincere one on Riri’s face.

Riri’s lips roll back, getting trapped between her pretty teeth, her smile threatening to break through wider. 

Hmm, she hums, eyes scanning your face. “I think I like how that sounds.”

[chesue00]

HI HI!! Sorry I kinda uh. Might've spammed all your zombie Leon art LMFAOO you're art is so beautiful I'm sorry just WARM BODIES AU?? HOLY FUCK!! I hope you don't mind, can you maybe elaborate more?? If you'd like to ofc! I just love that movie and omfg you're brilliant for combining, can you tell some more about the Warm Bodies AU??

HELLLO!!! OMG IT'S OKAY LOVE TO HAVE SOMEONE WHO FW THIS AU🥹💕 And I would love to share some tid bits of what the AU has as of now 🫶🏻 I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE CUZ I MIGHT YAP A LOT AHEAD ABOUT THIS AU BELOW LMAO

-To start with so instead of the government bombing Racoon City into dust, they just fully quarantined the city, building walls around to hide it from the outside monitoring it with the help of umbrella.

- Zombie!Leon doesn't really remember anything or how he even turned into one but that his name starts with L so he's referred now by "L" by his human. Though he has a prominent bite mark on his right side of the neck making that side more blood stained and stuff.

- Zombie!Leon considers Zombie!Marvin his closest friend and decided to address him as "M"

- He met his human on one of him and his fellow police zombie friends' hunt in the city, specifically within the Racoon City hospital. Like in the movie it was also love at first sight for our precious rookie zombie when he saw his human💕

- His human was there cuz they were tagging along with their boyfriend who's working under umbrella and was with a small team assigned to scavange and collect some things and stuff within the now abandoned and zombie infested hospital.

- And yes, he ate his human's now ex boyfriend's brain and pocketed some more for later😭 so like in the movies he also gained memories of the said dead ex boyfriend of his human by now.

- Zombie!Leon then again decided it upon himself to protect and drag his human back to the rpd station where he reside, keeping his human there on one of the safe room.

- He acts like a puppy following his human around most of the time and not leaving their side as well as their guard dog.

- He can speak a bit, mostly just words that help his point be said across. He's not able to form full perfect sentences. He just grunts and huff most of the time when communicating, his human often relies on his body language to understand him.

- Despite being a zombie himself he acts differently compared to his fellow zombies, he's very considerate and gentle, especially towards his human.

- In terms of appearances, unlike the standard zombies that are rotting, I took the liberty to just stick with something like the zombies in the movie as well~

-For this AU, the equivalent of boneys in the movie are the lickers on this one >:D

That's what I can share for now about this AU, pls stay tuned for the future stuff i have for this one, thank youuu (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)