#don’t get me started on the guy we had to call the cops on

[beware-the-water]

i work in a pharmacy and i had a dude picking up his viagra which was like $15 n he started getting all fussy abt it n acting like a fool, saying “i NEVER paid that before. i used to pay 13, why is it 15 now?”

i was like “idk price prob went up”. went on his profile, lo and behold, he paid $15 last time. i told him he paid the same amount last time. clearly his dick isn’t the only thing that’s not working.

“do you keep records of previous payments here?”

uh no, actually we here at the pharmacy don’t keep records of anything ever. i just pulled that fact straight out of my fucking asshole.

“yes sir, one moment”

i print out the record of his previous transaction and show him.

“well what was it before that?”

“13”

(anger increasing) “so why is it 15?”

“the price went up”

he buys his viagra and leaves in a huff.

even better, i looked up his name later to find out he’s an attorney.

[doitforbangchan]

Captiv(e)ate - H.H

Pairing:Mafia boss! Hyunjin x Doctor/EMT!reader

Requested: Yes, you can see the original ask here.

Warnings: Fem/afab reader, Guns, blood, kidnapping?, cursing, kissing, suggestive, petnames (angel and darling), and probably more

WC: 4.4k

Sorry to the original asker that this took literal months 🙃i also want to add that i took a lot of creative liberties here and changed it up a bit. Hope you like it! Not proofread Masterlist

“Are you sure we’re in the right area? I don’t see any businesses, only abandoned buildings. Wasn’t the call for a business injury?”  

“This is where the address is showing on the gps, Y/n.”

“Yeah, I get that,” you sighed, looking out the front window of the ambulance. “But doesn’t it just seem a little… off?” 

Ray, the driver, shrugged, “ Guess we’ll see when we get there. The building should be right around the corner.” 

You continued to look out of the window, doubt etched across your face. Being an EMT has taken you to many sketchy places since you started your career, but nothing has ever set the knot in your stomach so tight as it is now. A few minutes later the gps alerted that the destination was directly in front of you. With a deep breath you prepared to enter work mode and put your nerves aside and as the vehicle stopped you opened the doors. 

Immediately you saw a small swarm of men filter quickly out of the building. Before you could hop out, the one who came out first reached behind him and pulled out a silver pistol, aiming it directly at you. You froze, eyes wide with terror and a chill down your spine.You slowly put your hands up to show you are unarmed. You could hear Ray behind you yelling in fear but you remained silent.

“No one move an inch.” The man with the gun growled menacingly, he had an Australian accent. “This is how this is gonna go. We are all getting into this ambulance, and you are going to treat our friend. You cooperate- you leave with your lives. You don’t… then you don’t. Capisce?” 

You both nodded quickly, keeping your hands up. The man was satisfied with your choice and he motioned for you all to move aside. Once you did all the men began to hop into the ambulance, two of them carrying another who was nearly unconscious. 

The men dropped the injured one onto the gurney then shut the doors harshly. “First things first,” The man with the gun said. “Give me your cell phones. No calling the cops.” The two of you shakily took out your phones and handed them over to the man. “Alright now do your jobs. Driver, head south towards Gangnam.” 

It was incredibly cramped in the ambulance with all of the people but nonetheless you scooted closer to the man on the gurney. Your eyes did a quick sweep over the men; some were glaring at you in intimidation, others were looking at the injured man with deep worry on their faces.

With a deep yet shaky breath, you snapped on some rubber gloves and began to access the patient in front of you. He was a young guy, probably early 20’s. His lips were plump- the shape reminded you of a dumpling. His eyelashes were long and dark, flitting on his cheeks as he twitched with his eyes closed.  Overall he was a very handsome man, they all were really, but something about this man in particular made your heart flutter. If he wasn’t bleeding out in front of you you might have taken a little more time to eye him up, but now was not the time to get distracted. Especially since your life was on the line if you didn’t save this man. 

You could see that the blood was pouring out of a wound on his side and you lifted his shirt to find a bullet wound. You winced, finding a cloth and holding it on the wound quickly to help with the copious amount of blood. When you pressed into it, he gasped from the pain and his eyes shot back open.

 “Nnnnhgggghh” He choked out and suddenly his hand was grasped from beside him. A young looking man with shoulder length blonde hair held his hand and with an unexpected deep voice tried to sooth him. 

“Shh easy, Hyune. The docs gonna patch you right up.”

Another one spoke up from behind you, “Yeah you’re gonna be alright boss!” 

Hyune, as he was called, looked over to you, his teeth clattering as he tried to hide his pain, and with a shaky nod he motioned for you to continue.  You steeled yourself the best you could and got to work. 

‘Hyune’ was banaged the best you could, but you would need a more steady place to work that wasn’t speeding down a highway. When you conveyed that to the men around you, you were met with glares. 

“No, you will get it done here and now.” The one with the gun still out stated with a growl. 

“C-chan..” Your patient croaked, “H-home..” They all did a double take at the man on the gurney, some scoffing and looking like they wanted to disagree but before they could he held up a hand and instantly they all stopped talking. “That’s an order.” 

The man with the gun, ‘Chan’, sighed. “Ok, you got it.” Then he turned to you with hard eyes, “Do you know how to drive this thing?” 

You were taken aback, “Uhh, no I don’t.” 

He hummed, then looked at a man with copper colored hair and thin eyes, “You’re up, maknae.” the both of them went over to where Ray was. “Pull over in this cluster of buildings.” Ray did as he was told and pulled over behind a large factory. 

The copper haired man reached behind him, “Sorry man, this is the end of the road for you.” 

You couldn’t help the gasp that left you at the man's words. “No, please no!” 

Both the men looked at you as if you were dumb, and then the younger one pulled out a wad of cash from his back pocket. He shoved it into the hands of Ray who was shaking in his fear. 

“Take this as a token of our appreciation for your help and your silence about this.” 

Ray nodded and got out of the ambulance, not even sparing you a glance. The younger man got into the driver's seat and began to drive the large vehicle with ease. You looked out the window to see Ray counting his large stack of cash with a smile on his face. It almost made you sick with how easily he was bought off. 

One of the men who was still standing near you pulled a dark piece of fabric out from his pocket - a blindfold- and smirked at you. “Sorry, we can’t have you knowing where our hideout is.” 

He sure didn’t sound sorry… 

Your thoughts were cynical as the man wrapped the fabric over your eyes. He tied it tightly and then held your arm for the remainder of the ride. 

It had felt like hours (though it had only been about 15 minutes) before you could feel the vehicle coming to a stop.The doors to the ambulance were quickly opened and you could feel the heat from outside immediately seep in. You yelped as you felt someone lift you into their arms.

“Shut it, I’m just helping you get out.” It was the voice of the one who blindfolded you. He hopped out with you in his arms and set you back down on your feet. You wobbled and almost tripped when he started to usher you to move, keeping a hold on your arm the whole time. You were led into a building and down a hall.

 Suddenly the fabric was ripped from your eyes as the other men hurriedly wheeled in the gurney with ‘Hyune’ on into the room. The blonde one rushed in behind them with his arms full of medical equipment. The items were laid on a table and you were pushed closer to the injured man. 

Chan threw a pair of rubber gloves at you, “Get to work doc.” 

You put on the fresh gloves and breathed deeply to steady your nerves. You were a medical professional that worked as an emt, you thrived under pressure. This was no different… at least that’s what you told yourself as you got to work removing the bullet from this very good looking man. 

You were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you finally finished sewing up the man. The entire time you worked you had been supervised and scrutinized by Chan and the blonde one, both of them keeping their gaze trained on your every move. You had worked in silence the whole time, and you were thankful for the quiet as it allowed you to focus. The silence also helped you think about the circumstances you have found yourself in. 

You came to the conclusion that these men were part of the mafia- or some kind of gang- and the man you operated on was their boss. The realization did nothing to ease your anxiety, nor did the awareness that once you were done here they would most likely be done with you. You ignored the sick feeling within your stomach as you took off your bloodied gloves and stepped back from your patient. 

“I-i’m done.” Damnit, you didn’t mean to stutter. “He just needs to rest and heal for a while. I gave him some morphine for the pain so it’s imperative that he relaxes to avoid further risk.” 

The blonde one was by his side in an instant, grabbing his hand and checking him over. “Hear that, Jin? You’re gonna be fine.” Hyune tried to lift his head up but he was lightly pushed back down by the blonde. “Nuh uh you have to rest.” 

“Felix..” He mumbled and tried to speak but it was coming out so quietly you couldn’t hear what was said, you only saw the brow raise from ‘Felix’ at what Hyune was saying.

“Uhh yeah, ok. Whatever you say.” Felix waved over Chan who came over. Chan side eyed you as Felix whispered something in his ear, making him sigh in frustration. Then he waved you closer to them. 

You gulped and shuffled over to them. You were surprised when the injured man reached out and grabbed your hand, and he turned his head to look directly in your eyes. His eyes were droopy as if he was struggling to stay awake and he had a dopey grin on his face that made him look even more boyishly handsome. 

“You saved me..” He started, staring directly into your gaze. “You must be an angel.” 

“Uhh.” You felt your face heat up despite the small tinge of fear that still remained inside you. “No, m’ just a doctor. My name is Y/n.” 

Your response caused him to burst into a fit of giggles, which in return made both men next to him let out a few chuckles. Seeing them laugh so casually made you feel slightly less anxious and you felt your shoulders relax a little. 

“You’re funny. I like you.” He squeezed your hand again, his grip was shaky and clammy but for some reason it comforted you. His eyes flickered over to Chan, who rolled his eyes and approached you. “Be nice to her, Channie. S’ not everyday we have an angel among us.” 

Chan snorted and grabbed your arm again, leading you away from the others and down a different hallway. He led you to a room and he opened it, motioning for you to enter. When you were apprehensive he ended up shoving you in and closing the door quickly behind you. The pit in your stomach grew as you heard the distinct click of the door being locked. You spun around and grabbed at the handle of the door but it didn’t budge. 

Fuck. 

It was at that moment that all the emotions you’ve been holding onto since this whole ordeal started came rushing to you all at once. All of the fear, frustration and anger began to pour out of you in the form of tears. Your hands went to your face as you sobbed and your back slid against the door until you were seated on the ground. 

How did you get yourself into this mess? All you did was come to work. And now look at you. Locked away in some mobsters house. You finally lifted your head to look at your surroundings and saw you were in a bedroom. There was a small bed in the corner and another door that led to a small bathroom. You looked around for windows but there was only one tiny one with thick looking glass. So you couldn’t break it and escape.. 

You supposed there were worse places to be held, at least you weren’t in a jail cell,  though you would have preferred to not be captive here in the first place. For what had to be two hours you sat there and thought about how unlucky you were, until finally there was a knock on the other side of the door. 

You scrambled up and to your feet just as the door was unlocked and opened, revealing a man whose name you did not know. He had chunky cheeks and big dark boba eyes. He offered you a gentle smile when he saw you standing there. 

“Hi. It’s uh- it’s time to check on Hyunjin.” So that was his name. Hyunjin. “He started complaining about the pain again.” 

“Oh, ok.” You let him lead you out and down another few halls and up a set of stairs. The house you were in was huge and gorgeous. Beautiful floral paintings lined the walls and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Obviously these people had taste. 

The man with you- who had introduced himself as Han- opened another door and led you inside. Laying in a massive bed was Hyunjin, blinking up at you as you carefully approached his bed side. He beamed when he saw that it was you who entered his space. “There's my angel.” 

You shook your head, “I’m not an angel, sir. I’m just a doctor. How are you feeling?” 

“Don’t call me sir, my name is Hyunjin. But my friends call me Hyune.” He winked after he said ‘friends’ and it brought more heat to your face. “And I’m feeling alright, Angel. Just a little tender with the morphine wearing off.” A quiet scoff and a ‘little tender my ass’ was heard from behind you, then Hyunjin sent a glare at Han who mumbled his apology quickly with a giggle. “How are you, Angel? My boys treating you well? You are my special guest here after all.” 

“I’m your special guest?” You asked, shocked at his words and that he cared that you were being treated nicely. You tried not to show your surprise as you got back into work mode, checking his wounds and beginning to replace the gauze. 

“Of course. You saved my life and I don’t take that kind of thing for granted. So you are the specialist guest I’ve ever had.” He gave you that dopey grin again and you felt your heart palpitate. Why are you reacting this way? Get a grip! He’s just a man! A dangerous one at that..

But a really really cute one.

Han cleared his throat, “Uhh boss, I don’t think your in your right mind yet, seems like the morphine is still-” 

Han was cut off by another harsh glare sent his way by Hyunjin, “ I think I’m perfectly in my right mind, Jisung, and I appreciate your concern, but what I would appreciate more is you shutting up.” Han mimicked zipping his lips and locking it, raising his hands in surrender. Then Hyunjin turned back to you just as you finished wrapping him up again with that charming smile. 

You offered him a small one in return, “The wound has been cleaned, it’ll have to be cleaned and rewrapped twice daily to avoid infection. No strenuous movements for a few weeks while it heals and make sure you’re drinking enough water and eating.” 

He grabbed onto your hand once again, “Ah thank you so much, Angel. Speaking of food, have you eaten? Are you hungry?” You shook your head but he didn’t accept your answer. “ Oh come on you must be a little hungry, you’ve been working so hard today. I’ll have dinner set up, whatever you like, hmm?” He nodded over at Han who pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. “So what will it be? Steak? Lobster?” 

You said the first thing that came to your mind in a panic, “How about pizza?” 

“Pizza?” He laughed, crinkling his eyes. “You could have anything in the world and you choose pizza? Oh Angel, you are surprising.” He brought your hand up and laid a kiss on the back of your hand. “It’ll be done before you know it.” 

You found your confidence in that moment, the burning questions rattling around and begging to escape. “Can I ask you something, please?” Your voice came out more timid than you intended and you mentally cursed yourself. 

“Of course.” He didn’t even hesitate, having an inkling about what you wanted to know. 

“I’m still not totally sure what is going on here.. I mean I get that you guys hijacked my ambulance and you needed medical help, but I don’t know what I’m still doing here or why you’re being so nice to me or even who you guys are.” You twiddle your thumbs and avoided eye contact, though you were not sure why you were so nervous. 

Hyunjin chuckled, patting you on the back of your hand, “Promise not to freak out?” You nodded in agreement. “This is the Straykids headquarters. You’re still here because you have been more than useful to me and you saved my life.” 

Upon hearing the name ‘Straykids’ you knew exactly who he was. This was the leader of the most notorious mafia group in Seoul; Hwang Hyunjin. This man was known for being dangerous, violent and bloodthirsty. His whole gang was, really. You had seen first hand the leftovers of one of their shootouts, having been called to the scene a few months prior to try to find any survivors. There were none. 

But this man doesn’t seem to be the cruel criminal that he had been made out to be- though maybe it was the drugs you had administered that was altering his mind. So far he had been kind to you, and had worried that you were being taken care of. 

It was like he could see the gears turning in your head and he let out another chuckle. “Don’t worry, Angel, you’re safe here. No one here is going to do anything to harm my special little Angel.” Hyunjin winked again, then a ding was heard from his phone. He leaned over and read the text, “Pizza is here. Hannie will take you down to the dining room, I will join you in a moment. Ok?” He finally let go of your hand and sent you off with Han. 

You were seated at this long elegant oak dining table, a gang member on each side of you as they call scarfed down the slices of pizza. Hyunjin sat at the end of the table, keeping his eyes on you as you picked at your food. He could see how nervous you were to be surrounded by infamous criminals but he was also intrigued by how well you were holding yourself together. He was starting to like you more and more. 

“So how long have you been an EMT?” The question came from the boy next to you- I.N he was called- as he shoved another bite into his mouth. 

You cleared your throat, “About a year. I worked in the hospital for a while before this as a resident.” 

He nodded, swallowing . “What made you leave working in the comfort of the hospital? Seems like it would be a pretty cushy gig” 

“Yeah it was.” You agreed, “But it was so boring. I like to be out there in the action.” 

That had caught everyone's attention. A few looked at you with raised brows. “Action huh?” Minho had asked from across from you. “Like what?”

They noticed how you lit up as you started talking about some of the medical emergencies you had seen, how passionate you sounded as you described how you helped people. Hyunjin especially could see all your emotions as you spoke. 

“Sounds bloody.” Minho said, earning him a light hit to the head from Seungmin. “Fuck off!” He grouched at the boy next to him.

You shrugged, already feeling more comfortable. “It can be. Nothing you guys aren’t used to, I’m sure.” 

All eight men started to laugh, some nodding along as your words rang true. They were all much more personable now, acting like normal guys and cracking jokes and laughing together. In fact they were all so normal it was almost unsettling. These are not the kind of men you envisioned when you imagined the deadly mafia. They seemed more like a family than a gang. 

You felt a hard pat on the back from Chan who was sitting on the other side of you, “You’re kinda funny, doc.”

“Thanks I try.” You gave a small grin to him and finished your pizza. 

It had gone like this for the next two weeks. Every day you were let out of your room to treat Hyunjin and keep the wound from getting infected, and then you would either go back to your room or were allowed to hang out with some of the mafia members. 

Every day Hyunjin would flirt with you, calling you Angel and telling you how much he valued you. You didn’t want to fall for his charms but you were just a girl. And he was one appealing man. He made sure you were cared for, and showed you kindness. There was never a moment (other than that first day) that you had felt like you were in danger with him or the other members.

His injury was healing nicely and you knew that soon there would be no use for you, and that was the only thought that brought you any kind of anxiety. You doubted they would just send you on your way; you knew way too much about them and their ‘organization’. They hadn’t been exactly secretive about it since you’ve been there. 

You went to find Hyunjin to do his exam and found him sitting at his desk in his office. Since he was healing he was able to do more behind the scenes work and as the leader he definitely had work to do. Organized crime required more work than anyone realized. 

You walked in and he looked up from whatever he was studying and offered you one of his dazzling smiles. “Hiya Angel. Is it that time again?” 

You nodded, “Uh huh, lemme see it.” 

He smirked and lifted his shirt to reveal his toned abdomen. “If you wanted me to take my clothes off you should have just asked. I would never deny an Angel.” There he was with his flirting that always brought a deep heat over your face and ears. 

“Yeah yeah, just come ‘er.” You muttered and took off his bandage. You examined the wound. Just as you thought, it was healed enough that you would no longer need to take care of it. “It’s healing very well, Hyunjin. You have been taking great care of it.” 

“That’s all thanks to the incredible doctor that stitched it up and brought me back from the brink.” He said, looking down at you and dropping his shirt back back. 

“Well you’ll be happy to know that you no longer require my expertise, it should be just fine as long as you keep it clean.” You tried to smile but it didn’t reach your eyes and Hyunjin could see right through you. 

“What’s wrong, Angel?” He cupped your cheek with his big hands, making you face him. 

You tried to shake your head, “Nothing, I’m happy you're doing better.” 

“Buuuut” He prompted. 

You let out a sigh, embarrassed you even feel this way. “ But I’m done treating you. And now you're going to toss me out.” 

His eyes widened and confusion washed over his features. “What? Who said that? Did one of the boys tell you that?”

“No they didn’t say anything but I just assumed tha-” 

“Don’t assume anything, I had no plans of getting rid of you.” He stared hard into your eyes. 

“B-but you don’t need me anymore..” 

He tsked, “You silly girl. Haven’t you come to realize that I’ll always need you? Who else would take such good care of me and the boys. Don’t think I didn’t see it when you patched up Minho after his cooking incident. Or when you cured Felix's cold last week.” 

“Oh that was nothing.” You protested, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as he got even closer.

“Not to me.” He leaned closer to your face, getting his point across. You thought he was going to kiss you but instead he pressed a peck to your forehead. Then he pulled back slightly. “If you want to leave, then I will let you go. I know you wouldn’t say anything about us to anyone. But before you have to know that I want you here. I want you to stay by my side. Not just as my medic but as my woman. You are the most interesting and incredible woman I’ve ever met. You captivate me like no one ever has.” 

Your hands wrung in his shirt at his sentiment. You didn’t know how to answer. You knew the smart thing would be to go- to leave this place and never think twice about these mobsters. But for once you wanted to follow your heart, not your brain. You wanted to stay and you wanted him. 

“I-I want that too..” You said quietly and screwed your eyes shut. “I would like to remain here. With you, Hyunjin.” 

You heard him hum in satisfaction and then you felt your face being tilted up and suddenly the softest pair of lips you had ever felt were on yours. You let out a squeak of surprise and then melted into his kiss. You groaned when his tongue swiped on your lower lip asking for entrance which you gladly gave him. 

Hyunjin suckled on your own tongue for a moment then pulled away from you, leaving you breathless. Both of your lips were swollen and you couldn’t stop gazing into each other's eyes. He ran a thumb along your cheekbone, “Welcome to heaven, Angel.” 

©doitforbangchan

Im not the proudest of this but it took me so long 😭😭 plz enjoy. comments and reblogs are appreciated

Tagged; @jehhskz @athforskz

[d1anna]

around the full moon i always have weird dreams

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat 10 part 1/2

Chapter 10 : Calling from Hell just to say the demons are suspiciously absent, is that fine?

masterpost

“Fucking Batman,” Val said under her breath. Her Red Huntress mask muffled the words and made them come out even meaner than she probably meant them. “Years late and too little, even if he’s not working with the GIW.”

Sam hefted her requisitioned Fenton bazooka and pressed her lips even further together. None of them liked this at all. It stank. It was suspicious. Danny hadn’t sounded distressed, but he’d been out of contact too long for such a short conversation to put her at ease. There hadn’t even been time to update him on what had gone on in Amity Park.

“There.” Sam followed Val’s pointer finger to see the nearly invisible outline of a jet in the faint light. It was landing in the right field. 

“It’s them or it’s a trap,” Sam muttered.

Val let out a mean laugh. “If it’s someone we don’t expect, they’re the ones in trouble.”

Sam huffed and said nothing. She couldn’t disagree, but Val seemed too confident for her comfort. They waited in tense silence to see the jet come to a landing. Not long after, a hatch popped open and the distinctive ears of Batman himself were the first out into the cold night air of a January night in Amity Park. 

He was quickly followed by smaller figures- 1, 2, 3 of them. Sam felt nerves churning in her gut. She tried to channel them into aggression. She had to be tough, tougher than usual. There was no cavalry waiting to help out.

Well, there was Tucker, but he was probably going to be more useful in the wings to feed them information. He was pretty good aim with a thermos but that wouldn’t do jack about Batman and a small flock of, what, junior associates?

“Does Batman work with children?” Sam asked under her breath. One of them was genuinely small.

Tucker snickered on the other end of the line. “Uh,  there’s supposed to be a Robin. Guy in yellow, green, and red I guess? Aside from that, there’s debatably like, 6 former Robins associated with him. But there’s also the Justice League’s junior varsity team, so it’s hard to say.”

She frowned at the lineup. She saw purple, black, and red. There was- yeah, okay, there was quite a bit of yellow when the little guy faced them, but she didn’t see any green.

“Showtime,” Val said. Sam crouched further behind cover as the other girl zoomed out on her hoverboard, effortlessly drawing Batman’s eye. She adjusted the dial on her sound settings to hear Val’s feed just a little louder.

“Batman.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.” Sam cringed at the gravely voice over her sound system. Batman sounded like he smoked a pack a day. She turned the volume down just a hint.

“Not really, there’s four of you,” Val said breezily. Sam suppressed a snort at the dodge. “You wanna meet Jazz Fenton? You’re going to have to prove that you’re not a plant. There’s a GIW facility-”

“Two miles west of here, yes,” Batman interrupted. “I researched.”

“Great. Do you have ground transport?”

“Of course. What is it that you expect me to prove?”

“That you’re not with them.” The subtle whine of Valerie’s weapons started up. Sam only heard it because she was hooked up to the helmet. “They do experimentation and keep prisoners. Show me that you’re not a cop.”

“The police would not support the capture and abuse of people.”

Valerie made a skeptical sound in the back of her throat. Sam couldn’t blame her. “Yeah, but they do.” Her hoverboard’s jet whooshed up in power. “Meet me there, outside the main gate.” She was off like a shot in the dark. 

The four out of towners didn’t take long to get four silent motorcycles out and dash down the lane. Sam thought about what she’d heard as she cut a more direct route on Valerie’s spare hoverboard, taken from Vlad’s deserted mechanics lab. 

Either Batman was a liar, naive, or he was exactly what they were worried he might be. The Justice League was famously affiliated with governments. Wonder Woman was even a member of the United Nations! If someone accepted the claim that Infinite Realms Residents weren’t really people, then they’d say just what Batman had. It wasn’t lying if you didn’t think the people you were hurting were really people.

Sam watched from a distance as the group reached the gated facility. One of Batman's people did something that unlatched the electronic security system. It swung open. 

“Not shabby,” Tucker said quietly. “I coulda done it faster.”

“Not unless it goes off the rails,” Sam reminded him. She clenched a fist against her thigh. They needed to see Batman's real colors before they risked him knowing about their group. It was hard to outplan what you didn't know about, and they'd need every advantage they could get. 

She let them all go ahead before she followed onto the property. It was eerily deserted, tire tracks where dozens of white Vans ought to have been. 

The GIW had deserted Amity Park weeks ago. They were pretty sure there was a skeleton crew stationed out here, but no one came and left anymore. They only occasionally saw an agent wander across the path of a security camera, which were sparse inside the building.

But that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous to be here. Even now, a camera swiveled over the lawn, blinking a clear light that was easy to miss during the day. There was a reason that they hadn't risked a second raid after Danny had barely made it out last time. 

Sam swallowed, hard. The bitterness in her mouth felt a lot like guilt. Who knew what the GIW had been doing? They could have someone else held captive. It was a big building. Danny might have missed someone when he was breaking Vlad out. 

‘We did what we could, and we are making a move now.’ 

She repositioned her weapon and waited, tense with nerves. All she was meant to do now was follow along via what she heard on Val's comms and be in the wings to facilitate an escape, if needed. 

“Left,” said Batman quietly. The comms were quiet for a long moment, then- “clear. Clear. Clear.” 

Sam shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 

“Red Robin.” 

“Got it,” came a response, barely audible. Val must have been hanging close to Batman, then. 

“You think now's a good time to try their computers?” Val said helpfully. 

Tucker snorted. “Could just ask,” he sang to himself, cocky as hell. “I know all.”

Sam rolled her eyes. He didn't know all. About half of the property was disconnected from the security system, meaning they had no eyes on whatever was down there. 

“Six stationed here.” 

That had to be Red Robin’s voice. Sam cocked her head and focused on it, frowning slightly. Did it sound young?

Tucker's computer chair made a click when he sat up too fast. “Wait, what? How'd-” His end of the line devolved into rapid typing. 

“Did you find a schedule?” 

“No, it's not in the system. They're on paper, I suppose.” Seconds passed. “My bet is that labs would be in this wing.” 

“Be my guest,” Val drawled. Sam could all but see her crossing her arms across her chest. 

The line went silent for a while. Then, faintly, there came the sound of a metal door opening. 

“Fu-” A GIW blaster went off. “Intru-”

The alarm was cut off before the GIW goon got out a full word, but odds were good he'd been heard anyway. Sam flexed her hands. Sitting this out sucked. She wanted to see what was happening. How many agents were there?

“Robin!” Batman snapped. 

‘The little one?’

Sam felt vaguely ill. They had to be okay. This was Batman’s team.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Steve having to bail Bucky and reader out of a very simple mission wherein they both got slightly too egotistical for their own good.

“How did you even wind up in this situation?”

“Let’s just say there was a lot of double-dog daring.”

Bailed Out » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America

Summary: Steve bails you and Bucky out of jail.

Warnings: Fluff, little bit of Angst, language, jail, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I thought it would be interesting to add a gif of Steve too🥰

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found them on Pinterest.

“I’m here to bail out James Barnes and Y/N Y/L/N.” Steve says to the officer behind the desk.

“One moment.” The officer says.

The officer stood up from the desk chair and went to the holding cell you and Bucky are in. He unlocked the cell door and opened it.

“Barnes, Y/L/N, you two made bail.” He says.

You two walked out of the cell and followed the officer to the main lobby of the police station. Steve was standing there with his hands on his hip and stared at you guys like he’s a dad bailing his teenage son and daughter out of jail. You and Bucky followed Steve out to the car without saying a word.

“I call dibs on the front seat!” You say, racing to the car and put your hands on the handle of the passenger’s side door.

“You can’t just call dibs on it!” Bucky says, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Yes I can!” You say.

Steve sighed loudly, already tried of the two of you bricking over who gets to sit in the front seat.

“Just shut the hell up and get in the car!” Steve shouts, making you guys go quiet.

You got in the front seat and Bucky got in the back seat without saying a word. You two know it’s serious when Steve yells. He hardly ever yells. The whole car ride to the compound was silent. You and Bucky didn’t dare say a word. When the three of you got to the compound, you and Bucky were going your separate ways, but Steve stopped you guys in your tracks.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Steve asks.

“To the lounge room.” You say.

“To the gym.” Bucky says.

“No you’re not.” He said. “Conference room now.” He orders in his Captain voice.

You and Bucky were about to protest against it, but you two knew Steve didn’t want to repeat himself. You two went to the conference room with Steve following behind you guys. You and Bucky sat next to each other at the table while Steve sat on the opposite side of the table.

“You two were supposed to be on a very simple mission. What happened?” Steve asks.

“I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. Y/N was the one you wasn’t listening to the orders she was given.” Bucky says, tattling on you.

“That is not true and you know it!” You say.

“I was following the orders I was given. You were the one starting shit with those people.” He says.

“It’s not my fault they started shit!” You rose your voice at him. “I was just defending myself.” You say.

“Defending yourself doesn’t include breaking someone’s nose.” He says.

“That bitch had it coming. She punched me first.” You say.

Steve sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to you guys continue to argue.

“Enough!” Steve shouted, getting you two to shut up. “I don’t care who started it. I just want to know why you guys got arrested.” He says.

“Someone called the cops on us.” You say, being a smartass.

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” He says in all seriousness.

“A fight broke out and I was trying to help Y/N. I guess someone seen or heard what was going on and called the cops.” Bucky explains. “The other people were arrested too.” He says.

Steve sighs again and rubs his hands over his face, trying to figure out a way to punish you guys.

“As much as I hate to say this, but you two are suspended for the rest of the week.” He says.

“Does that mean we can’t go on the mission on Thursday?” Bucky asks.

“Nope.” Steve answers. “Sam and Natasha are going to be filling in for you guys.” He says.

“That’s bullshit!” You stated.

“I can make the suspension longer if you want.” He says.

“No we don’t want that.” Bucky said. “Right, doll?” He says, elbowing your arm.

“Right.” You mumbled loud enough for them to hear.

“Good.” Steve stood up from his chair. “You two are dismissed.” He says, opening the door.

You and Bucky walked out of the conference room in silence and went your separate ways. You were laying on your bed, thinking about your actions. Now that you think about it, you didn’t follow the orders you were given. You felt bad cause Bucky got arrested and suspended with you. You got out of bed and went to Bucky’s bedroom, which is next door to yours. You knocked on his bedroom door and patiently waited for him to open it.

“What do you want?” Bucky asks after opening the door.

“Can we talk please?” You asked.

Bucky stared at you for a few silent seconds before stepping aside to allow you to walk inside of his room.

“What do you want to talk about?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I just want to apologize for everything that happened earlier.” You started. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to get out of control like that. I take full responsibility for my actions. I’ll try my best to listen to the orders I’m given next time.” You say apologetically.

“It’s ok.” He accepts your apology. “If the roles were reversed, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” He says.

“Hug on it?” You asked, opening your arms for a hug.

Bucky smiles before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I’m also sorry for getting you arrested and suspended.” You apologized again, looking up at him.

“It’s ok, doll.” He almost whispers. “I forgive you.” He says, kissing your forehead.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )

part one

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻

@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the scarlet and white colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.

he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.

your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.

but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.

“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.

you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.

you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.

“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.

mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”

“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.

“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.

you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.

no, not ever. oh my god.

“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.

“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.

“and you also didn’t have to agree.”

this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”

ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”

“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.

“i’m honestly not sorry.”

the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.

it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.

he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.

maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.

you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.

you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.

even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.

you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.

he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.

he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.

you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.

you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.

they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.

spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.

no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.

they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.

the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.

it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.

the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.

you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”

cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.

he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.

but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.

“whatever.”

the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.

it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.

you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.

he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.

“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.

“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.

“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.

but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.

“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.

“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.

“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.

it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.

“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.

chris

wait for me, 15 mins max

ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.

you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.

they don’t even know the truth.

finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.

it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.

he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.

“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”

he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.

it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.

the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.

you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.

“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.

you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.

“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.

“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.

“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”

you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”

“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.

you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”

“always assuming the worst.”

“well, you make it easy.” you tease.

he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.

you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.

“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”

“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.

a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.

chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.

“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.

“what’s your problem with it?”

“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.

“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.

“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.

chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”

you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.

“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.

you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.

chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.

“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.

“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”

the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.

it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.

he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.

it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.

deny, deny, deny.

“just wondering why your face looks like that.”

“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.

“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.

“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”

it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.

“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.

“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.

“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”

chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.

“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.

“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.

“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.

“that’s surprising.”

you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.

he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”

you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.

“home, obviously.”

“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.

“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”

this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”

“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.

you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.

his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.

you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.

it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.

his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.

why is this happening?

the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.

“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.

“or you could stay.”

“i don’t want to.”

“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.

you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.

“goodnight, chris.”

“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.

there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.

your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.

[fettuccin-e]

Better Than Nine to Five

hi guys i wrote this quite a while ago!! i had trouble with the beginning but, like with most things i write, the words started coming as soon as the characters started coming (get it?? get it cause like cum) but ANYWAY pls enjoy the poly!steddie content!!

Tags: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson, established poly, dp in one hole, brief use of sex toys, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv

Steve can barely ever get off work these days. He hasn’t been as fortunate in the job market as you or Eddie; the both of you have pretty strict 9 to 5 jobs, able to sit and relax after a day at work, knowing what your schedule will be the next week, and the week after that. Steve’s schedule, at best, is random and wildly inconvenient, working late shifts almost every night and waking up the next day with you and Eddie already gone to work, alone in your shared bed.

He hates it, you and Eddie know he does, but he puts up with it, wanting to help all of you save up for a house, a pretty one that’s the exact opposite of the run-down, shitty apartment that you all live in.

You and Eddie also know, however, that Steve needs a chance to fucking relax for once. And if there’s anything you both know how to do, it’s how to make your sweet, loving Stevie let out some steam.

It’s Eddie who calls Keith and tells him to let Steve out early for the day. “He needs tomorrow off too,” Eddie says, twisting his finger around the phone cord.

“No fucking way, Munson. I’m already doing a favor for him by letting him out today, but he’s coming in tomorrow, whether he likes it or not.”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, eyes narrowed and angry, but you rip the phone from hics grasp.

“Look Keith, either you let Steve off tomorrow, or I'm going to the cops to tell them about the stash of weed you’ve got in your office. That we an smell it all throughout the damn store. And wouldn’t that just be a crying shame?” you snarl into the receiver.

“It was your freak boyfriend who sold me that shit in the first place!”

You nearly laugh at the high-pitched indignance in his voice. “Are you really gonna tell them that, Keith? Maybe I’ll also throw in the fact that they should probably look into your tax records, right? I bet there are some glaring inconsistencies, aren’t there?”

“You fucking bitc-” You hear Keith stop himself, sighing angrily. You hear a loud crash in the background just before he says, “I’ll let him off tomorrow, but you stay the fuck out of my business, you got that? I’ll-”

“Not a chance, maybe try being less of a shit person. Bye Keith!” You don’t give him a chance to respond, slamming the phone down.

Eddie watches you with wide eyes, before smirking, pupils blown and dark as he grabs your waist to pull you in for a hot, messy kiss. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad like that, baby.”

You giggle, reaching a hand up to play with his messy curls. “Gotta stand up for my boys, don’t I baby?” You step away from him, grabbing his hand to drag him to your bedroom. “C’mon, Eds, you gotta get me ready for Stevie, right?”

Eddie nearly faceplants into the carpet in his race to get to the bed.

It’s only an hour later that Steve unlocks the door to the apartment, stripping his vest off. Keith had stumbled out of his office earlier that day, mumbling something about, “go home early, Harrington, shit. Just wait till like, six or something, and you can go.” Steve had been confused, but decided not to question it, his heart galloping at the thought of spending the evening with the both of you for the first time in far too long.

Except the apartment seems almost empty when he walks in, all of the lights off and the living room and kitchen empty, devoid of both yours and Eddie’s presence. His heart drops, only for a second, thinking that he’s alone in the apartment, before he hears a loud, keening whine come from the bedroom.

Your unmistakable whine, followed by Eddie’s familiar whispered praises of “shh… baby I know, I know. It’s a lot, but I think he’s home, did you hear the door open baby? He’s gonna think you’re so pretty baby, so good, planning all this out for him.”

You answer Eddie with a choked sob, and Steve’s pants suddenly are far too tight, cock bulging almost immediately. He goes to open the door, and the sight that greets him almost makes him pass out on the spot.

You, with your hips hiked up in Eddie’s grasp, your flushed face pushed into the mattress as Eddie works his cock into you, his pretty hips slapping against your plush ass. Eddie’s head snaps over to the bedroom door, mouth pulled into a self-satisfied smirk while he keeps fucking you.

“Look, baby,” Eddie grunts, lifting his hand to give your ass a loud smack. You jerk, head turning to see what Eddie wants, and smile blearily at the sight of Steve.

“S-Stevie, you’re, ah, home,” you slur, struggling to get the words out between Eddie’s strong thrusts into your needy pussy.

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes darken, his big hand moving down to palm at the bulge of his cock through his pants. “She’s been waiting for you, Harrington,” Eddie says, sounding almost like he isn’t fucking you stupid. “She had this all planned out, wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, uh, consider-” Steve coughs, eyes trained on Eddie disappearing into your pretty cunt over and over. “Consider me surprised baby.”

Eddie chuckles, and Steve’s eyes snap from where you both are connected. “Steve, this isn’t even the best part.”

“What?”

“C’mere,” Eddie mumbles, and you whine as he stops his thrusts. Eddie beckons Steve over with a playful finger, and Steve moves next to him, kneeling on the bed to see what Eddie thinks is so important.

Steve nearly chokes on his spit. Because there, in your dripping cunt, is a pretty blue dildo, shoved inside you right alongside Eddie’s cock.

“She wanted to take both of us today,” Eddie whispers into his ear, and Steve can hear Eddie’s smug smile. “Been working her open for the past hour, waiting for you to get home.”

Oh fuck. “Oh fuck,” Steve says, echoing his own thoughts. He smooths a hand over the soft skin of your ass, and you whimper softly.

“You like it?” you ask, almost tentatively, and Steve almost laughs at the absurdity of the question.

“Like it?” Steve says softly. His hand moves from your ass to push lightly on the base of the dildo, making you gasp sharply. “Baby, I love it. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You gonna take your clothes off, Harrington?” Eddie murmurs. “She’s been waiting so long for us, it seems cruel to make her wait any longer.” 

Steve follows Eddie’s vaguely concealed demand at an almost frantic speed, ripping off his shirt so fast it gets stuck on his arm for a second. He ignores Eddie’s tiny laugh. He stands off the bed to untie his shoes and shuck his pants off, his hard cock slapping harshly against his stomach. 

“C’mon baby,” Eddie whispers to you, “gotta let Stevie lay down, right? So you can sit on his pretty cock, yeah?” Eddie's mouth waters just a little at the sight of his boyfriend, hard cock glistening and hairy chest heaving. He looks fucking illegal, Eddie thinks. You nod your assent, but still whine as Eddie shuffles back, his cock slipping out of you along with the dildo, leaving you painfully empty for the first time in an hour. 

Steve follows Eddie’s instruction, laying down on the bed, while you kneel up, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. You lean forward to brush your lips against his, smiling softly.

“Hi, Stevie,” you whisper, and he smiles back at you, curling his fingers into your hair. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, before crushing his mouth to yours. He feels Eddie grab his cock, notching it up against the entrance of your pussy, and suddenly you’re sinking down, down, sucking him into your sticky walls, making all three of you moan in unison. You and Steve breathe heavily into each other’s mouths as your ass finally meets Steve’s heavy balls, buried all the way inside.

“God, fucking shit, you both are so fucking hot, Jesus,” Eddie grunts from behind you, and you both can hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s hand slipping up and down his cock, still sticky with your juices.

You turn, smiling softly at Eddie’s blushing face, his lips parted as he looks at you both. “Eddie,” you whisper, “You can’t cum yet. Y’gotta fuck me too, right baby?”

Eddie curses again, before kneeling behind you, just like he had been a few minutes before. ”You are a fucking minx, you know that?” He mumbles, and you would giggle if it weren’t for the blunt tip of Eddie’s cock nudging against your opening, right beside Steve.

“Ah- Oh God-d” you whine as Eddie’s fat cockhead pops into your stretched out pussy. You thought you would be prepared for it, with the dildo, but you don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for this. Eddie’s sticky cock nudging along Steve’s as he sinks deep into you, Steve’s warm hairy body beneath you, his big hands on your waist while Eddie radiates heat above you.

Steve’s not doing much better, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the feeling of Eddie’s gorgeous cock squished against his, the hot walls of your pussy strangling the both of them. Eddie’s hands are clutched into the bedsheets beside your sweaty bodies, and Steve takes his hands off your waist for just a second to grab Eddie’s hands, entwining their fingers together to hold onto your waist at the same time. You all take a minute to just breathe, allowing your pussy to adjust to the stretch of both of them.

They’re both whispering breathless praises into your ears, trying to get through to your cloudy brain. “So, so good for us, baby, taking us so good,” and “Can’t believe we’ve got you baby, you’re so pretty, so, so good for us. Y’feel so good, princess, fuck.” You can’t even discern whose voice is whose anymore, lost in a sea of pleasure and nearly-painful fullness, their cocks reaching so deep inside, pressing into every crevice of your sensitive pussy.

And then they start to move.

You try to gasp air into your empty lungs through your screams and cries of pure fucking pleasure, the both of them thrusting in tandem to bully your pretty pussy open for them again and again. Eddie’s face is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing comforting kisses into your skin between whispers of “doing so good, princess,” and “y’feel how wide you’re stretched baby? Fuck, you’re so sexy, sweetheart, how’d we manage to land you?”

Steve’s groaning praises of his own, primal grunts of “so fucking sexy,” and “our pretty, gorgeous baby. God, can’t believe I’ve got you both,” before licking into your mouth in messy kisses.

You knew, even while planning this, that none of you were going to last long, and you’re a strange mixture of pleased and slightly disappointed to learn that you’re right. The knot in your stomach is tight, tightening and tightening as they rock into you, the overwhelming stretch of both of them keeping them pressing into your g-spot. You’re choking on your own spit as moans try to escape your throat. 

It’s going to be over far too soon, but knowing that you can take them both, that you three could do this again, makes your pussy clench, your clit throbbing. 

After only a few minutes of Steve’s and Eddie’s strong thrusts into your dripping cunt, grinding overwhelmingly against the spot that makes you sob, you reach your hands into both Steve’s and Eddie’s hair, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“I’m gonna, oh God, I-I can’t, I’m gonna,” you gasp painfully, tears leaking down your flushed face, not even able to get the words out, before your pussy is clenching hard around both Steve and Eddie. You’re shaking like a leaf, overwhelmed and wrung dry as Steve and Eddie rub their joined hands up and down your waist.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking t-tight,” Eddie whimpers, composure fully lost. “Steve, I gotta-I gotta, gotta cum.”

Steve nods frantically, unable to form words, before he’s releasing one of Eddie’s hands to instead cup around his boyfriend’s head, dragging him down to meet his lips, licking into his mouth over your shoulder. Their hips stutter as they finally, finally cum, flooding  your dripping pussy with a mixture of both of them.

You all breathe heavily for a moment, the room feeling hazy. Like heaven, Steve thinks, this is like heaven. You know you can’t move, feeling drunk and ripped apart, but your boys know it too. They slip gently out of your used pussy, Steve moving you to his side to cuddle you into him gently. Eddie steps out for just a moment, coming back in with a warm, damp cloth.

“Baby, Eds is going to clean you up real quick, okay?” Steve whispers, and you whimper softly, nodding your head, your eyes still closed. Eddie takes the permission to wipe the sweat off your body, and clean up a little of the mess between your legs.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers when he’s done, pecking you softly on your sleepy lips, before turning to give Steve a quick kiss. He throws the cloth in the hamper, knowing you would hate to make up to it laying on the floor, before laying on the other side of you, pressing himself comfortingly against your naked body. Steve reaches down to tug to the sheets over each of you, and grabs Eddie’s hand to hold, their palms resting atop your warm body.

“Shit, I’m gonna have t’call off work tomorrow,” Steve mutters into your hair.

“Don’ worry bout it,” you slur, sleep already whisking you away. “I took care of it.”

“She did,” Eddie smiles. “I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow, she was fucking hot.”

“She always is,” Steve smiles, chest hurting with happiness and sheer, unadulterated love. “Our perfect girl.”

[stealingyourbones]

*offers a (sanitized) owl pellet* Here, it’s got at least half a small rodent skeleton.

I was thinking… for DPxDC… Have we ever put Danny in Gotham as a garbage man? NOW HEAR ME OUT!

He could START as a trash collector in a relatively low-chaos part of the city, neither Diamond District nor Crime Alley. Then… he starts volunteering for Dock Dumpster Duty™️ because the middle-class neighborhoods are “too bland.” (This kid is from a city somehow more chaotic than Gotham, he gets paranoid if he goes a full shift without trouble.)

His supervisor is baffled by this. DDD is the single most dreaded assignment for every other worker in the area. They don’t want to put Danny on it, ‘cause he’s a good employee! But nobody else wants to… and the kid’s been both anxious and bored the past few weeks… a few daytime DDD shifts should be fine, right?

Eight. Danny gets almost-mugged eight times on three days of DDD. The worst part? His supervisor doesn’t hear about it until the third day, because Mugger 9 gets a slash on Danny’s arm and manages to nab his (atrocious) earbuds. The boy just calls the office to say,

“Hey, the latest mugger got a lucky shot so I gotta head home for the day- No, no, nothing serious, it’s a small cut… Yeah he got my earbuds, which, I’ll be impressed if he can actually sell ‘em… No way, cops wouldn’t care about this, it’s fine! … Thanks, I’ll let you know if I’m able to come in tomorrow bye!”

The supervisor and the secretary stare at the phone in disbelief. He wants to come in tomorrow?!

Just… give me Danny as a guy with an “undesirable” job, and taking on the tasks that even his coworkers don’t want to do. Everyone is both in awe and a little afraid of him, and not even for ghostly reasons.

oh i absolutely adore this. He's had to pick up the wildest shit near the docs where various rogues dump their stuff, but he doesn't even blink loading a dumpster full of biohazard bags into his truck. He learns that he can't wear headphones because they are for sure going to be taken if they're anywhere above absolute shit quality. Using a speaker would alert more people to him and THAT would be stolen as well. Gotham is a tad sucky but god damn does his job pay a decent salary and his coworkers are pretty fun to talk to. He's having the time of his life.

[dearly-somber]

It’s An Affectionate Thing | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, unrequited love, eventual romance

-> w/c. 2183

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. this one was an excuse to write biting because 🤭

-> warnings. N/A

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:21

-> fin. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 22:23

-> edited. Jul. 5th, 2022 @ 00:46

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Jungkook is… weird, to say the least.

He just randomly came up to you in class one day, sat his ass down on the edge of your desk, and started talking to you like it was a normal, everyday routine. Which it was not.

As you got to know him, he only got weirder.

If not for his clinginess (which was admittedly strange considering you’d never met a guy so touchy with a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend), you’d say his strange habit of rubbing his head against you was probably one of his weirder characteristics.

And it wasn’t even in a creepy If-you-don’t-get-away-from-me-immediately-I’m-going-to-call-the-cops kinda way, but more so a confused, what-the-fuck-are-you-doing kinda way. He’d hug you and not so subtly rub his cheek against yours, or he’d hold your hand and make up some dumb excuse to nose your wrist (he kept insisting that you were wearing perfume when he knew you didn’t).

One time—while hugging you—he pressed his face into your neck and just… inhaled. He hasn’t done it again after you unceremoniously shoved his face away with a warning not to do it again unless he wanted to keep both his eyes, but it was beyond weird and (dare I say) creepy (at the time)

He also quite literally growled at one of your classmates when he was being a misogynistic, sexist piece of shit and wouldn’t leave you alone. And sometimes, when he’s being a brat and moaning about how you pull away too quickly after giving him a hug, he whines. Like, back of his throat, puppy-begging-for-food kind of whine.

This in of itself would be somewhat bearable, if not for his friends. They were equally as weird, if not weirder.

There were eleven of them total, seven guys and four girls—all living in the same house near the edge of town. And despite already having such a large group, they were completely unwelcoming of outsiders, too tight-knit to allow others into their ranks. People had suspected that they were in a polyamorous relationship, or that it was some weird sex cult. They hadn’t ever specifically said that they were dating amongst themselves, and being the secretive group they were, they didn’t bother acknowledging nor denying any of the crazy school rumors.

You didn’t wanna bring the rumors up with Jungkook and make him uncomfortable, so instead you chose to ignore them and pretend they weren’t there. Jungkook tried to introduce you once, but you’d seen the way they looked at you—how they glared when you walked into the cafeteria with Jungkook glued to your hip. You’d come to the nifty conclusion that they did not like you, and as much as you wanted to make Jungkook happy by letting him introduce you to his inner circle, you didn’t wanna crush his little heart by being immediately rejected.

Coming up with excuses to avoid them was hard, but if they were anything like their youngest, it was probably for the best if you kept your distance, anyway.

How you wished you’d been able to stay away for longer.

“Jungkook, I really don’t wanna go to your house.”

“But we have to go somewhere, and you already told me that your parents don’t like me.” He whines, his big bambi eyes and pouty lips making you internally groan.

“That’s because they think you’re too clingy.” You state matter of factly, deadpanning your gaze to his arm, tightly wrapped around yours.

Grinning sheepishly, he tugs you in the direction of his housemates. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” They walk a few meters ahead of you, shoving and pushing each other while talking, rowdy laughter echoing behind them. Your heart aches for a moment, watching them enviously. They look close…

“Are we gonna be able to get anything done? There’s like. Twelve of you in one house, thirteen plus myself.” You watch them retreat further and further ahead of you, your and Jungkook’s feet dragging as you fall behind. “They don’t exactly seem like the quiet type…”

Jungkook frowns at the (hopefully) unintentional dig, clearing his throat and hesitantly intertwining your hands. When you don’t pull away, he continues. “Just give them a chance. I know the rumors are weird, but they couldn’t be farther from the truth. I promise you you’ll like them once you get to know them,” he pleads, giving you his best puppy eyes. “Please?”

You sigh, nodding concededly and reluctantly letting him pull you along. “Okay. Can we at least do the assignment somewhere private? I don’t really think your friends—”

“Family.”

The correction throws you off guard, and you stare at him. Your voice betrays you, eyes soft. “Right, your family. I don’t… I don’t think they like me very much.”

He tsks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. But,” he turns to you and boops your nose playfully. “If it really makes you feel better, we can do the project in my room.”

His room? Why his room? Why not outside, or in the kitchen, or anywhere else but his room?

You squint your eyes at him suspiciously. “What are you planning, Jungkook?”

He grins mischievously, batting his eyelashes in an effort to make himself look more innocent than you know he is. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You scoff. “Pervert.”

Jungkook giggles in response, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and leaning into you while not so subtly sniffing your hair.

…Brat.

Jungkook drags you upstairs to his room before any of his housemates can snatch you away from him, not bothering to listen to their rowdy complaints. He knows that they’ll overwhelm you the second they get their claws on you, and he’d preferably not scare you away just when you’re getting more comfortable around him.

He practically throws you onto his bed, followed directly by his overexcited body knocking the breath out of you. Jungkook huffs weirdly before pressing his forehead against your shoulder, hands laying curled up into your sides. Groaning, your hands shoot out to his shoulders, trying to push him off. “Can’t— can’t breathe—“

“Sorry,” he sheepishly grins, pushing himself up by his hands to look down at you with his hair flopping over his head. You catch your breath, feeling the immense relief at not having his full weight on top of you, too preoccupied to notice the compromising position you’re in—him hovering over you with his knees slotted on either side of your waist. Jungkook looks concerned when he asks, “Can you breathe yet?”

“Yeah… yeah, I can breathe. Can you uh,” your cheeks burn and you avoid meeting his eyes, your hands sliding from his shoulders. “Can you get off, please?”

“Oh, I— sorry, I’m sorry.” He gets off of you faster than you expected him to, sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the bed to give you some space. You copy him, staring at one another awkwardly. It’s your first time being in his house, let alone his room, and your heart stutters when you realize he closed the door behind you on your way in. Just great. You look at him, biting the inside of your lip. Jungkook has proven to be a very sweet boy, but he is still a boy—and you are a girl. Alone. In his bedroom.

You don’t want him getting the wrong idea.

“Listen, Kook…” He perks up, listening to you attentively. Taking an encouraging breath, you continue. “I hope you didn’t choose your room for ulterior motives, because I came here for school. I’m not going to have sex with you—“

Jungkook’s whole face turns red, frantically shaking his hands in front of you. “No no no! No, I’d never—I don’t, I don’t see you that way, I promise!” He rambles, scooting away from you in an effort to convince you that that’s not why he chose this location. Grinning stupidly, you reach over and pat his knee.

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Relax.” He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking. He just wanted to make you feel more comfortable… he didn’t think you’d take it the wrong way. Rolling your eyes at the cute pout on his lips, you ruffle his hair playfully. “Let’s get started, hm?”

You turn your back to him so that you can reach into your bag and grab your things, rifling through the books inside to look for your laptop. What you don’t notice is the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on your back—watching you and admiring the annoyed pout on your lips with a soft smile.

“Found it! So,” you cross your legs and situate the keyboard in your lap. “What do you wanna start with first? I was thinking we could start with, uhm…” Your voice dies in the back of your throat when you catch sight of Jungkook’s dazed, strangely affectionate half-smile. You clear your throat, cheeks heating up because why the fuck is he looking at you like you’ve hung the stars?

“Uhm… Jungkook?”

“Right, sorry,” he shakes his head as if to bring himself back to reality. “Why don’t we start with research first?” He’s hesitant, and you feel bad. He must think you’re going to say no.

“Sounds good. My screen is pretty small, though.” You bite your lip, thinking about how you could share the screen in a way that he wouldn’t hurt his neck.

“Uhm. I—I have… can you scoot a bit closer to the headboard?”

You look at him questioningly but give in to his hopeful puppy eyes. Sighing, you scoot back until he places a gentle hand on your knee to halt your movements. You try and look at his face but he looks down so that it’s hidden by his hair. “Jungkook?” You whisper, hesitant to increase your volume.

Jungkook either doesn’t hear you or he ignores you, clambering toward you distractedly and shifting in behind you. You suck in a breath, the hair on your arms raising. He slots his legs on either side of you, pulling you to his chest by your waist and hesitantly resting his chin on your shoulder. The closeness freezes you to the spot, and you swear you can feel him eyeing the side of your face for a reaction.

You exhale through your teeth and will yourself to relax in his arms despite your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook smiles, locking his hands around your waist and inhaling your scent as subtly as possible. You ignore him and clear your throat. “Shall we start with origin?” You whisper, unable to raise your voice due to the suffocating closeness, cheeks red and heart beating ten times too quickly.

Jungkook hums next to your ear. If he notices your racing heartbeat, he doesn’t comment on it.

Y/N yawns tiredly, apologizing in a half-asleep voice.

“Just take a break,” Jungkook pleads, trying to move her arms out of the way and biting back a growl of frustration when she swats his hands away from the screen.

“I’m fine.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open!” He reasons, pulling away to look at the back of her head. Stupid, stubborn girl. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve been working on this for hours. Let’s just take a quick break. Please?”

“We’re so close to finishing…” She sounds dejected, another yawn leaving her lips. Jungkook frowns at her, trying to figure out how to get her to put away her stupid computer and just take a nap, for gods sake. Knowing that this is the only course of action that’ll direct her attention to something other than this stupid class assignment, he determinedly leans forward.

You yelp in surprise, turning to Jungkook with wide eyes. Did he just—

“Did you just fucking bite me?” Your voice is filled with newfound life and energy, jaw hanging as you look down at your shoulder. Looking at him, you find no remorse in those chocolate brown eyes… only a smug, satisfied expression.

“Yes.” He laughs at the horror on your face, shaking his head as if he knows something you don’t. “It’s an affectionate thing, I promise.”

“How is you biting me an ‘affectionate thing’?” You hiss, watching as he shakes his head, hair flopping around his face cutely.

“It just is,” he shrugs. You squint suspiciously, setting the laptop down next to you while silently planning his demise.

Jungkook eyes you warily and yells when you punch his arm, rubbing the spot furiously. “What was that for!”

“Would you rather I bite you back?” You snap threateningly, sitting on your knees to look down at him. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the threat, his cheeks and the top of his ears going beet red. You grin to yourself evilly, crawling towards him. Your eyes squint in a silent threat, prowling like a bloodthirsty animal. “Just wait until I sink my teeth into you… c’mere!”

Jungkook yelps, jumping up from the bed and running away from you while incoherently yelling that no, only he’s allowed to bite you.

“Why?”

“I— I can’t tell you!”

“Guess I’m gonna bite you, then—“

“—Y/N NO!”

<- prev | next ->

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

I just got out of my psychology class and I kept having thoughts about Leon and how his mind works. Here’s a psychoanalysis on Leon bc I truly do like how his brain works:

TW: mentions of mental illnesses, substances, substance abuse, suicide. (Guys- I am not a medical psychologist or a medical psychiatrist. This is strictly based on my psychology class, take this with a grain of salt.)

Leon suffers from Combat and Violence Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This type of PTSD (because there’s subcategories) is most often common in veterans and in men.

More often than not, one can tell when someone’s suffering PTSD (flat voice, substance abuse, inability to sleep, change in personality, etc.)

Leon in RE2/RE2R didn’t necessarily show signs of PTSD until after the events took place. Leon was too busy trying to survive that his brain shut off the emotions he was feeling “in the heat of the moment.” He was scared but it was his survival instinct that allowed him (or the player) to move forward. Hence why I think he also suffered from Depression and Acute Stress Disorder (ASD).

ASD is commonly found in patients with PTSD, ASD is kind of like the first stage after a traumatic event took place. PTSD victims often find themselves having frequent panic attacks. I think it would be safe to assume that Leon in RE2/RE2R had several panic attacks during or after Raccoon City. I don’t think he’d go to therapy/psychiatrist/psychologist because in RE4R he stated that he immediately got called to the White House after he survived RC. And this is where I think it got worse.

RE4 and RE4R both portray very distinct Leon characters. One is more “fine” than the other in short words. Leon in RE4og doesn’t necessarily show signs of having mental issues but maybe he’s just good at masking them. Leon in RE4og often finds himself being very witty or very lean back. He’s less serious but I think it’s a coping mechanism. Up to that point in his life, he’s been in very serious situations that I think this is his way of gaining some of that control he lost when the virus first started. His brain is fighting battles of being in control or letting others control him. In this case- the situation is controlling him. He wants to have that sense of individuality and most of the time this is a coping mechanism. To gain back some of the things he’s lost in the process.

In RE4R, however (and I’m going to be very bold with this one), we don’t know much about how he feels. He is flat and his demeanor is distant to an extent. I’ve noticed a few changes to him from when he first started the game to where the player made it halfway. In the beginning of the game (when he’s with the two Spanish cops) he’s similar to RE4og- sarcastic and a little unserious. Which can be guessed as his normal personality. He doesn’t really show how much he’s actually been through with those two strangers. He’s got better things to worry about- he neglects his own issues. When he tries to find Ashley and he sees the zombies again- his PTSD gets triggered and it makes him be able to pull the trigger (aside from the player lol) There are few types of reactions when PTSD gets triggered and I think Leon’s reaction is a bit depressing.

When Leon sees these zombies again, his brain automatically jumps back to the memories of Raccoon City and almost immediately finds himself back in his former self’s shoes. But he doesn’t have time to linger, he forces those thoughts away and keeps going. I don’t think he wants to have time to think about what just happened because he’s often trying to keep his brain occupied “sorry, must’ve slipped” or any other phrase he says makes me believe that he’s just trying to make himself laugh (because believe it or not, laughter really does help with mental issues) or he’s trying to make the situation seem lighter. Or maybe he’s in denial, his brain hasn’t processed that the same thing that happened in RC is happening all over again. And when you’re in denial, you are repressed. Sigmund Freud said that repression is when someone turns something (trauma, thoughts, events, feelings) away. They deliberately choose to cast their thoughts and feelings aside. Leon bottles his emotions, it’s his defense mechanism. He doesn’t smoke (as mentioned in the game) nor does he drink (there’s a Reddit post that perfectly summed it up for me) He knows substances aren’t good for you and the fact that he’s against them makes me believe that he has other ways of dealing with PTSD such as exercise. I’m not saying this just because Leon looks very built, I want to think that maybe half the reason he works out isn’t just for his job. I think it also because it helps him mentally.

Mobility, sleep, and nutrition are the most important things to keep yourself mentally and physically healthy.

I’ll get on to RE6 because in that game, he pulled a 180 imo. RE6 Leon is more empathetic. He cares about the people that could’ve survived. He suffers from survivor’s guilt. After RE4/RE4R, Leon probably became more aware of his struggles and has tried to deal with them. He’s become more human, he’s allowed himself to feel human. He’s still the same serious guy with the flat effect but he’s becoming more open about his thoughts and feelings. I think the game is trying to hint at us that MAYBE he’s getting better. (Guys this is a stretch okay. RE6 is lowkey messy)

Now on to the films (I’ve done the liberty of researching a ‘order’ of when these may have taken place and not by the release date order so you guys won’t get confused):

ID Leon: He’s very compassionate in this one. He has a sense of self righteousness but I know why. He wants to make up for the losses of the people he’s seen die. He wants to fight against the corporation and wants to end the spread (submarine scene when he talks about RC) He wants to make up for what he couldn’t save. (Hence why he didn’t give Claire the chip- he wanted to protect her because he cares for her)

Degeneration Leon: Protection can only go a long way. Leon is more… assertive in his objectives, if you will. He’s back in his RE4 days in other words (any of the two games tbh, this Leon is complex) Leon wants to keep fighting for his cause. Not only is he forced to be a soldier for the government but he also has found a drive. All his pent up PTSD and trauma has shifted into something else. If no one could’ve been the hero then HE’LL be the hero himself, does that make sense?

Damnation Leon: Haha Russia go brr (sorry) Again, he’s become more chill. When he’s with JD, he’s funny but still cautious (bc let’s be honest, JD could’ve still shot his ass) nothing much to comment, I think he’s been consistent since Degeneration.

Vendetta Leon: NOW WE GETTING JUICY. This man- this Leon is the epitome of what a relapse does to you. Leon is seen drinking away his problems. He’s relapsed back into the mentality where his brain is finally processing everything. He’s even tried to attempt suicide- that’s how bad he got. His PTSD, his ASD, depression (bc you can’t tell me he didn’t have depression) it all came back to him and it made him feel shitty. He lost his power over himself, he no longer feels useful. He feels empty and broken. That’s sh he drowns himself in his own sorrows. Because he’s learned that if you drink until you pass out, you don’t dream. He doesn’t sleep- no. He’d rather black out because when you’re in an unconscious state, you don’t dream at all. You’re simply just lying there on the floor with your eyes closed. And that’s the feeling Leon wants to feel. He wants to forget everything for one minute and just calm down. And alcohol does that to you, that’s why people with PTSD become addicted to substances.

DI Leon: homeboy somehow got better (I’ve yet to watch DI lol) but from what I’ve seen, he’s definitely back to his “normal” self. He probably learned that maybe living life is the best thing. That if his attempt would’ve succeeded, then he wouldn’t have been able to live to his fullest. Regret makes people do a lot of things and I think Leon matured and learned.

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You Take (4)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, voyeurism, longing

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath You take (3)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You wake, once again, from a deep slumber you yawn and look around your bedroom. Last night you had the best dream.

Your dream man stepped out of your dreams and came to you to cuddle you in your bed. His scent still lingers on your clothes, and you sigh, wishing he’d stayed for a little longer.

“Well, he lives only in my dreams,” you press the plushie your secret admirer gifted to you to your heart. No matter what your colleague says, you cherish the cute cat. Whoever sent the flowers and the plushie to you must mean well.

You put the plushie away, putting it on top of your pillow. “Sorry, I got to go to work,” you sigh and pat its head. “I’ll be back soon, and we can cuddle some more.”

While you reluctantly slip out of bed, already regretting it the moment your feet touch the cold floor, Bucky watches you get ready for work.

He hums as you stretch in front of the wind. “We could work out together,” he says. “I think we will start with an easy workout.”

Alpine meows and turns their attention back toward the food in the bowl.

“What do you say, Alpine? Do you want to go shopping for her?” Bucky rubs his scruffy chin. “Maybe we could accidentally bump into her next time she goes grocery shopping.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, it’s too soon. We need to get to know her even better.” He lies to himself. Bucky is scared to mess things up and tries to buy himself some time. “We’ll send her another gift today. I hope she’ll like it.”

“You got another gift from your stalker,” your colleague wrinkles her nose. She huffs because you ignore her jab. “You should call the cops or something. I just know that guy is a creep.”

“Why?” you look at the new gift. Your secret admirer sent an orchid to you this time. A beautiful yellow phalaenopsis. “They sent me an orchid. I love them.” You smile and carefully run your fingertips over one blossom. “I got them in many colors. How could they possibly know I didn’t have a yellow one yet.”

“Stalkers gonna stalk,” she quips while glancing at the orchid. “I’m telling you; they are going to become creepier in no time. Soon they will send you underwear or shit.”

“Underwear,” you gasp. “Oh, my.” You touch your heated cheeks. “You think they’re going to send me underwear? Maybe lace or satin.”

“You’re…crazy,” she huffs and storms off. “If you disappear, I won’t call the cops.”

You shrug. “I don’t know what’s her problem. The orchid is beautiful, and they didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a nice gift, nothing else.”

“Alpine!” Bucky calls for his cat. “She’s back and she got the orchid.” He grins when you step toward the window to place the new beauty on your windowsill. “She likes the orchid.”

Alpine ignores its owner once again. The white furball prefers getting comfortable in Bucky’s lap. “What else could we get for our girl, Alpine? We gave her flowers, a plushie, and an orchid.”

He wrinkles his forehead. “I got it!” Bucky jumps up, much to Alpine’s chagrin. The cat lands on the floor, hissing at their owner. “I’ll gift her my first edition of The Hobbit. She’s got a lot of books, but no first edition.”

Bucky walks toward the shelf he bought some weeks ago. A single book and his sunglasses the only things the only things he placed on the shelf. He grabs the book and smiles.

“I hope she’ll like it as much as I did when I read it for the first time.” He flinches at his own words. A memory wants to flash up in his mind, but he pushes it away.

Most of the time Bucky doesn’t allow himself to think about his life before Hydra.

Even if those memories are pleasant. It pains him to remember his life before the winter soldier, and all the losses he had to endure.

“I need to buy more wrapping paper, Alpine. Make a mental note.”

Bucky carefully puts the book on the small table next to his armchair. He’ll wrap it tomorrow and send it to you. Bucky wants to see you smile again.

“Ladies, we got a new roommate,” you talk to your orchids. “She’s a little shy, so be nice.” You giggle at your silliness. “Yellow queen, welcome to my home.”

You step away to admire your windowsill. “So beautiful. I wonder if he knew that I didn’t have a yellow one yet. He must be very observant. I can’t believe my colleague called him a creep. My secret admirer was nothing but kind to me.”

Smiling you just look at your collection of orchids for a moment. It makes you feel calm and happy just looking at them.

Sometimes, if the world gets too much you get lost in daydreams of flowers and fairytales. You are enchanted by the pretty flowers until you remember you had plans for tonight.

“Shoot! I still need to get changed. My show starts in not half an hour!”

Today, you leave the curtains open. Not only in your living room but in your bedroom too.

You slowly strip your clothes off and put on a show for your secret admirer. He won’t see much because you didn’t switch the light on, but you want him to see you for longer than a few moments.

If he’s not brave enough to talk to you yet, you’ll wait for him to reveal himself.

All you know is that he’s out there, watching over you like a guardian angel.

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

[taeyongdoyoung]

mind games

summary: taken away by your ex and best friend, you try to do everything in your power to survive another day... characters: reader, sunoo, sunghoon and heeseung (only mentioned in this part) genre: thriller, dark romance(-ish) warnings: kidnapping, reader is tied up (in a non-sexy way), mentions of fake blood, stalking, spitting, handwriting forgery, hidden cameras, invasion of privacy, blade, overall toxic behaviour, kissing, manipulation, biting, tracking device, trauma author's note: hii guys, the title is inspired by this iconic song and to be honest, i had a really hard time writing it due to some bad experiences in the past so if any of this is triggering to you, please proceed with caution! 🤍 part one & part three word count: 2.6k

You wake up in a unfamiliar place. You feel that your hands and feet and are tied up to a chair. Your surroundings are damp, near black and you can barely make out anything. You wonder if you are alone or if one of your kidnappers is somewhere out there, lurking in the dark.

How on earth did you end up here? You thought you were generally a good person. True, you started dating the guy you told your ex "not to worry about" three months after the break-up but it’s not like you cheated. Then again, bad things had the tendency of happening to good people. So maybe it’s not your fault you’re here. You’re right. It’s Sunghoon and Sunoo’s fault!

Sunghoon, you can understand. He’d always been a jealous, possessive little freak. But Sunoo? To pretend he’s your best friend and work with Sunghoon behind your back? Damnit, you should have investigated suspect number two more seriously before trusting him too much. That part is completely your fault, you admit to yourself.

"You awake?" you hear Sunoo’s adorable voice, which does little to ease your panic.

"Gee, I had a crazy nightmare, Sunnie. Dreamt that my best friend kidnapped me along with my ex. Isn’t that a good story?" you respond sarcastically.

"Listen, it would have been much easier if you came with us willingly," Sunoo pats your cheek gently.

"Willingly? How insane are you, actually?"

"Come oooon, me and Sunghoon-hyung can treat you so much better than Heeseung."

You shake your head in disbelief.

"Just tell me one thing. Were you behind the stalking as well?"

"Which part? Sunghoon took the photos of you and stole some of your clothes. But the creepy dolls covered in blood was all me."

First of all, ew. Second of all, WHAT THE FUCK?

"Where did you get the blood from?" you finally dare to ask.

"It’s fake blood, silly. It looks so real, right?" Sunoo cackles maniacally.

"You need help. Like serious, professional help, Sunoo. I’m only saying that because despite everything I still care about you. If you get me out of here, I’ll make sure you receive the proper treatment you need and-"

"Get you out?" he laughs again. "Why would I do that? We can be such a lovely family of three. Trust me, you’ll never want to leave."

You already want to leave.

Hours later, Sunghoon appears and Sunoo leaves. You suppose kidnappers still have jobs to go to whenever they’re not spending time with their victims. God, this is so wrong.

"How have you been, princess?" Sunghoon asks.

You don’t reward him with an answer and spit in his face. Very dumb of you but oh well.

Sunghoon wipes the spit with his gloved hand and squats in front of you.

"Not a very enthusiastic welcome, I see. Don’t worry, I’ll be patient. You’ll get used to us in no time."

"I’m not getting used to anything. Let me the fuck go!"

"Hmm, I don’t think so," Sunghoon wraps his arms around your legs like a fucking snake. He may not have bitten you but you feel his poison spreading further down your body. What if you’re meant to suffocate here?

"It’s only a matter of time before Heeseung calls the cops and they find me," you bluff. You can only hope Heeseung will come for you.

"He probably won’t. See, I wrote him a little letter. You remember how good I am at copying your handwriting? Well, I never thought it’d come in…well, pun-intended but handy. In the letter I tell Heeseung that you’re still in love with me so you’re leaving him and ran away with me. I’m so creative, aren’t I?"

"You’re sick in the head! Heeseung’s never gonna buy that!" you scream and you pray you’re right.

"Wanna check? I put hidden cameras at your place, if Heeseung was there, we can see his reaction."

God, this is worse than you thought. You really should have contacted the police earlier. Helpful or not, it would have been something.

And indeed, Sunghoon shows you a video of Heeseung opening said letter, reading it and then sighing deeply. Alas, he doesn't look in a huge hurry to find you. Or maybe, he's just that good of an actor...

"What are you going to do to me?" you ask Sunghoon, horrified now that your hope of Heeseung finding you diminishes by the hour.

"Nothing," Sunghoon replies simply. "I just wanna be with you. Away from him." The him in question is Heeseung, you deduce. "Forever."

The word forever never tasted so bitter.

"What about Sunoo? Why is he helping you?"

"I think he has a little crush on me. So I'm using him," Sunghoon shrugs, as if it's the simplest answer in the world.

First of all, a little crush is definitely an understatement. No one helps his best friend's ex kidnap his best friend over a little crush. Sunoo's feelings are reaching a dangerous magnitude. You don't dare imagine how far he'd be willing to go for Sunghoon's sake. And second of all, the fact that Sunghoon's using Sunoo and doesn't reciprocate his feelings might be helpful for you in the future. So, you tuck that information safely into your mind for later.

But until then, you gotta play the game well enough in order to survive. You never know when Sunghoon or Sunoo might snap and feel like killing you. Psychopaths like that are totally unpredictable. So, you make it your mission to smoothly pretend you have zero plans of escaping.

"Poor Sunoo," you sigh, targeting Sunghoon's jealousy issues. "And here I thought he had a crush on me and wants to share me with you."

"As beautiful as you are, not everyone on this plaent is madly in love with you, princess," Sunghoon laughs, suddenly amused by your words. "And if it's anyone doing the sharing, it'd be me. But I don't share."

He smirks darkly and kisses you. His lips are venomous poison. You kiss him back even though every bone in your body is telling you no. But after being so foolish before, you have to be clever enough now. Clever enough to trick him. Clever enough to live.

Sunghoon wraps his hands around the back of your neck, kissing you more deeply. Your tongue battles against his desperately, trying to convey every bit of your hatred and make him mistake it for love. He's laughing against your lips. But you're determined to make sure you have the last laugh.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sunghoon chuckles in disbelief you kissed him back.

Yes! Y/N: 1. Sunghoon: 0.

"You taste just as I remember. Coffee."

"Your favourite taste," Sunghoon nods thoughtfully.

You don't dare tell him that lately, you like ramen more...

"You should be nice to Sunoo," you advise Sunghoon, even though it won't help you. Not immediately, anyway. "You never know when he might turn against you."

"He won't. But I'm nice enough. Or else he wouldn't have helped me in the first place."

"When did you two become so close anyway?"

"Right after you broke up with me. He would constantly call me and meet up in secret. He'd keep me posted on how you were doing. Show me pictures and stuff. He said that just because you and I were no longer together didn't mean that he couldn't be friends with me."

That sly little fox. And here you were, mistaking Sunoo for your best friend. Then again, you are no saint, either, considering you moved on with Heeseung so quickly. But after the way Sunghoon had treated you, it was only natural you were drawn by Heeseung's warmth.

"Interesting. How does he put up with your mint choco-hating ass?" you tease Sunghoon.

"He's strangely forgiving in that respect," Sunghoon responds.

You smile fondly, recalling all your mint choco dates with your best friend. You will never forgive him.

A while later, Sunoo returns, immediately brightening up the room with his presence. But now you know it's all a façade. The real him is not the sun, but the darkest sky.

"Heyyy, hyung, missed me?" he greets Sunghoon.

"So much, sunshine," Sunghoon ruffles Sunoo's hair, the action so smooth and affectionate it gives you goosebumps. You aspire to be such a talented actress.

"Did noona give you trouble?" Sunoo asks teasingly.

"Not really, she's quite docile now," Sunghoon shrugs, not suspecting anything.

"I'm right here, you know?" you roll your eyes.

"Aww, Y/Nnie, don't be jealous, it's not a good quality," Sunoo messes with you.

Pfft. If there's anyone guilty of jealousy in this room, it's definitely not you.

"As much as I hate to leave you two angels all alone, I have business to attend to," Sunghoon announces. "Take care of her, yeah?"

"Will do!" Sunoo promises excitedly.

Once alone with Sunoo, you set your sinister plan in motion.

"Sunnie, you do realize Sunghoon's only using you, right? He told me so himself. He'll never love you. He's incapable of loving anyone but himself."

"Why would I believe you?" Sunoo snickers. "You'd say anything to get me to untie you."

"Screw that, you know I like things like that," you joke. Though you prefer things like that in a safe, consensual environment, it doesn't hurt to try misleading Sunoo.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Sunoo squeezes your cheeks affectionately.

You sigh deeply. Okay, you're gonna have to try harder.

"Haven't you asked yourself why Sunghoon's always wearing gloves? So he can leave no fingerprints! Meanwhile, you're spreading your DNA all over the crime scene."

"This isn't a crime scene, we're just making a home for ourselves!" Sunoo shouts in denial. "And...h-hyung likes gloves, they're a fashion statement. They look hot on him!"

"When the police finds us, Sunghoon won't be here and he'll make you take the fall for it," you hypothesize

"What do you mean when?" Sunoo is starting to panic a little now. "They won't find us. No one knows where we are. Right?"

You smile sinisterly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

A while later, Sunoo leaves again and you remain alone with Sunghoon. Your worst nightmare.

"Hi, princess," he kisses you, as if what you two have is completely normal. As if it's okay. You kiss him back, as if you mean it. As if you love him back. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, splendid. My favourite place in the world," you chuckle bitterly.

"Ever the spoiled brat, I see. At least I'm giving you food and water, no?"

"Ah, yes, I'm living the dream," you keep responding sarcastically. But nothing too bad, you're still afraid he might snap. Also, you haven't mentioned Heeseung since you got here. You figured it would just be poking the bear or something. So, you play nice. Or as nice as you can be, given the circumstances.

"You know, this could be so much easier if you just cooperated. I could even untie you someday. We could go to Paris, I know how much you've wanted to go there. We could go back to the way we used to be. Just us two."

"What about Sunoo?"

"Well, he can tag along, I don't mind."

"What, like Bonnie and Clyde and their pet or some shit?" Except, you'd be the fucking pet 'cause you're no criminal.

"Yeah, that sounds nice, don't you think?"

It does sound nice. But you'll never agree to this. Even if Sunghoon was the last man on Earth, you still wouldn't go with him anywhere willingly. He lost not only your trust but your heart. And he's never getting it back. But you pretend anyways.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing," you lie through your teeth. "Maybe we'll get there one day."

"You can learn to love me again," Sunghoon says it not as a question but as a statement. And with such conviction it almost makes you sad. Almost.

"I can," you repeat the lie as if hypnotized. But he can't. Because this isn't love. It's obsession, dark and twisted, and you would do anything in your power to escape its deadly grasp.

Sunghoon kisses you and you bite his lips angrily in the process. He mistakes it for passion. Good. Let him be the fool. You've been playing that role yourself for too long. It's his turn now.

Hours melt into days. You know that the police requires at least 48 hours to start looking for a missing person so you try to be patient when waiting. But patience has a limit and Sunghoon is getting on your nerves more and more with every second. Sunoo, as well, with him pretending he's the sweetest bean ever but actually the devil in disguise. You just wish you could be found and rescued already. You desperately wish you could be back in the safety of Heeseung's arms. But you know it won't be that easy.

Throughout your stay here, you try your best to ensure you'll make it out alive. Sunghoon or Sunoo only untie to let you take care of your natural needs and don't take any chances so there is no opportunity for you to investigate where exactly you're located, let alone try to escape. But that's besides the point. You have a plan. And you just hope it doesn't go to shit.

"Just let me go, Sunoo, if you don't, you'll regret it, I promise you," you keep pleading with him gently.

"Why would I regret it?" Sunoo traces his blade alongside your neck. Damn, he's addicted to that thing.

"I can't tell you," you smile cruelly.

"If you don't tell me, I'll hurt you," he threatens you vaguely.

"You already did," mentally you mean. "But if you actually use that blade on me, Sunghoon won't be very happy with you. Do you want to make him angry?"

Sunoo shakes and takes a step back, dropping the blade. He's been creeping you out and yet, still...such a sweet child. God, you're conflicted.

On the fifth day, the miracle happens. Storming inside is a whole crew of cops, whom you previously distrusted (okay, lesson learned) and Heeseung comes along with them. You are quickly untied and a medic checks for any injuries (there aren't any physical ones, other than the mental trauma that comes with being kidnapped and stalked by your ex and former best friend).

How were you found so fast, one may ask? Well, you were slightly wary of Sunoo. Heeseung, you never doubted. So, the day before you waited awake for Sunghoon to arrive, you asked Heeseung to help you install a tracking device inside your skin. Your gut feeling was telling you that if something bad were to happen to you, your phone would be destroyed. A small chip, however, would be difficult to notice. The device got slightly damaged in the process of being kidnapped, so it was difficult for the police and Heeseung to catch a signal rightaway. Which is why it took five days. But still, you consider yourself somewhat lucky. Some people remain kidnapped for years...Others are never found.

Regrettably, Sunghoon is nowhere to be located. That bastard. They apprehend Sunoo quickly and he claims that he did it all by himself. Fucking idiot, why is he so loyal to Sunghoon? You insist that he worked together with your ex but the cops say that you might be so traumatized you're hallucinating another person. Why is that, you wonder? Oh, wait. 'Cause there are no fucking fingerprints of Sunghoon's, of course. Those stupid gloves of his may be the smartest thing he's ever done.

You know that you'll have to work harder to make sure Sunghoon is detained as soon as possible. You know that you'll somehow have to convince Sunoo to testify against Sunghoon. You know that your creepy ex won't give you up so easily. You know that you'll have to be smarter, more resilient and perhaps more careful who you trust.

Right now, your mind is your biggest weapon to play this sick game. But it doesn't end here. This is just the beginning.

To be continued...

[tojisblade]

ღ 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒆 ༺ ღ ༻ 𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒋𝒊 ღ

༉‧₊˚. synopsis: one moment, you were doing something as basic as taking out the trash (like, literally), the next moment you were getting fucked by a wanted felon who pretty much broke into your place in hopes you‘d harbor him for a few minutes until the coast was clear. who knew the thrill of crime was so exhilarating you needed a quick one-night-stand to come back to your senses? or did you lose your mind entirely and just didn‘t notice in the process of being fucked into tomorrow?

���‧₊˚. warnings: you literally fuck murderer!toji, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, he calls you princess (like, a lot of times), toji talks A LOT like dude shut up lmao

༉‧₊˚. this was entirely inspired by a scene in the rookie where lucy made up a cover story for how juicy and dim met, it's basically that but with toji

He was in so much fucking trouble. 

Never did he even think the cops were onto him, God, the fucking cops in plain clothes as they were in the same club he was as he was smuggling the poison into some guy’s drink. Now they were running after him, trying to catch him. 

Toji quickly ran into a massive apartment complex as he tried to flee the scene. Looking around to see if there was anyone or any place he could hide, as he still ran. 

It was like fate when you opened the door, purely in coincidence. You were getting out to take out your trash as you saw him running frantically. “Hey, are you oka–“, you started out asking, but got interrupted. 

“Listen to me. The cops are after me and I need a hideout. Can I stay in for a moment until they leave?”, he said, frantically. 

“W-what?”, you stuttered, completely caught off-guard. 

“Fuck, just shut up”, he groaned before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside of your apartment. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”, you exclaimed, still not completely aware of what is going on. You had dropped the bag in shock as he pulled you in. 

“Shut. Up!”, he hissed, looking out of the window, just to see the two cops who were after him walking around the apartment complex with their guns drawn. “Shit.”

He looked around, trying to figure out what he could possibly do with his situation before he finally faced you. “Okay, listen. My name is Fushiguro Toji, and I am being chased by the cops out there. I know, I’m just a stranger, but trust me, I am not going to hurt you, despite how this all seem like, considering the cops are after me.”

“Uh… yeah, duh”, you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Roll those eyes at me again and I’ll reconsider”, he immediately continued. “Do not fucking interrupt me, princess.”

“Fine, talk. You just broke into my apartment, so I do deserve some explanation. Start talking, or I’ll kick you out for the cops to find you.”

“And I apologize for the break-in. I swear I don’t plan on hurting you because that is just unnecessary evil, even for me. I just need a couple of minutes here in hideout so that I can run in peace. Is that okay?”, Toji asked. You were so convinced you had lost your damn mind when you nodded and agreed that he could stay over for a couple of minutes. 

“If the cops knock, I am not here”, Toji emphasized again, making sure you got it. 

As if on cue, there was a loud knock, startling you. You stayed quiet as you pointed at the bathroom for Toji to hide. Your heart was beating so fast, as you went to the door and asked; “Who is there?”

“Police Department. We want to ask you a few questions”, the officer yelled back. 

“Can you please identify yourself?”, you stalled as you checked if Toji had hidden. You looked through the peephole as the cops held up their detective badges before you smiled softly and opened the door for the cops. 

“What seems to be the problem, detectives?”, you asked gently. 

“We are in search of a murderer going by the name, Fushiguro Toji. Black haired, very tall and muscular. Last seen wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans. He is classified as extremely dangerous. We last saw him entering this apartment complex. Have you seen him, by any chance?”, the officer asked. 

You pretended to think a little before you shook your head. “Nope. I was on my way out to take out my trash so, I was inside the whole time.”

“Alright, Ma’am, please give us a call if you see or remember anything. Would you want us to accompany us with you going outside, in case you don’t feel safe?” One of the two detectives handed you a card with his contact details. 

You nodded at the offer, tagging along as you took out your trash and thanked the officers for the company. “Could you possibly tell me a little about that person you’re looking for? Perhaps that will help me with my memory or something I can watch out for?”

“I cannot disclose any details yet as it is an ongoing investigation, however, the current suspected M.O of the suspect is that he uses poison in his victim’s drinks. So, perhaps just watch out for your drink the next time you’re out partying.”

“Thank you, officers. I can return to my apartment alone, thank you for the company. I’ll uh… let you know if I see something”, you said goodbye to the officers before turning around. 

“Goodbye, Ma’am, have a good night”, they said in unison. 

You quickly headed back, your entire body was literally on fire after that short conversation and the fact that you were literally harboring a felon in your apartment had you shaking to your core. Once you locked your apartment and made sure the cops were gone, you were suddenly pushed to the wall next to the door. “Good. You did great”, Toji had you cornered, smirking at you as you looked at him with big eyes, shocked by his sudden action. 

“Thank you”, you whispered back, not trusting your own voice. His arm was over your head on the wall, cornering you between his huge body and the wall. “You’re not so bad yourself. Out on a murder charge, huh?”

“So, you asked about me, didn’t you?”, Toji chuckled, biting his lip. “Yeah… what about it? You scared?”

“I should be, shouldn’t I? But God, it makes you oddly attractive and interesting. So, tell me, what is that all about?”, you ask then, a little smile sneaking onto your lips. “A murder suspect in my apartment, who insists on promising me that he won’t hurt me, hm?”

“Attractive and interesting?”, Toji chuckled. “I may or may not have added some extra ingredient to some dickhead’s drink.” He casually shrugged, eyeing you up and down. 

“So, that was why they said to be careful of my drinks next time I’m out partying, huh?”, you replied. 

“I would never add some additional ingredient to your drink, princess”, Toji taunted before he suddenly leaned in and kissed you. You couldn’t help but immediately melt into him, arms wrapping around his neck, as his one hand wrapped around your thigh and lifted it up around his hip. 

The kiss was so full of fire, so much passion and there was nothing but carnal desire and need – it was like the fact that he was a murderer, a wanted felon, flew right over your head. You simply couldn’t care less about it because, fuck, the entire situation was so incredibly hot, the fact that the cops were still around searching the premises was making you feel so tingly. 

“Mhm, princess, you taste so sweet. I wonder if your pussy tastes just as sweet, hm?”, he whispered against your lips, smirking. “Will you let me have a taste?”

“Maybe… but maybe I won’t. You’ve got to earn it, mister.”

“What a tease, princess. But you know what, you shouldn’t tease me, because believe me, I can do better than that”, he continued, before he leaned back in to kiss you once more as you grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, your eyes going up and down over his very toned and muscular body. 

And you felt so insanely lucky to think about the fact that his body would be on top of you or underneath you in just a couple of minutes. 

“So, you wanna move this over to the bedroom or are you not that much of a gentleman and just fuck your women against a cold ass wall?”, you giggled.

“Oh, I sure as hell do not keep my women cold and standing, mh? Wouldn’t be so fair if I fuck you into oblivion and don’t give you a comfortable place to come down from the highs I give you, hm?”

“Someone’s cocky. But alas, unfortunately, there has been nothing but talk so far, honey”, you reply, giggling before you squealed in shock as he lifted you up over his shoulder. 

“Where’s the bedroom, princess?”, he asked, voice rough. “Need to teach you how to properly speak to me before I reward you with pleasure you have never felt in your life before.”

When you pointed to the room, he immediately went in and dropped you onto your bed, quickly climbing onto you, practically ripping apart your clothes. “God, princess, you’re so hot, so gorgeous underneath me”, he groaned, lips wandering down to your tits before he wrapped them around your one nipple, sucking and licking over the sensitive nub. Your body arched into him as you let out a whine and Toji smirked, enjoying the way you responded to his touch. 

“Reacting so fucking gorgeously for me, princess. Can’t wait to taste your pretty pussy”, he teased. “Did I earn it, princess?”

You nodded frantically. “Fuck, just get to it”, you whined. 

“So bossy, princess. Such a little slut for the murderer you harbored in your home and protected without knowing what dangers could possibly await you”, he snickered, “Does it excite you? Knowing you lied to cops for me, for someone you don’t even know?” Toji’s lips wandered down your body, slowly reaching your pussy and he pulled your panties aside to lick over your clit, flattening his tongue over your folds as he spread your legs apart with his hands. 

“Fuck don’t stop!”, you cried out, back arching again into his grip around your waist. 

He looked up at you, smirking as some saliva was running down his chin, and he was watching your every reaction. Toji had grown obsessed with how well you reacted to his touch, his tongue over your pussy. “Reacting so prettily for me, princess. Want more? Want me to fuck you? I’ll bring literal heaven to you, princess. If you let me.”

You were nodding once again, fingers buried in his hair as he lowered his head back again to your pussy and you felt two of his fingers against your entrance, slowly slipping in and fingering you slowly. Your eyes widened in surprise, you let out a choked sob as his fingers hit your sweet spot – you cried out as he continued with the constant stimulation. 

“Please, Toji, fuck me, please?”, you whined, attempting to pull him closer back on top of you. However, he was obviously way stronger than you and could stay where he was with no trouble at all. 

“It’s rude to interrupt a man while he’s eating, princess”, he grunted, “let me make you cum first on my mouth, princess, then I’ll fuck you.”

You whined as he increased his finger’s pace, continuing the sweet torture on your pussy with his lips as well and your hips were jolting up as you got closer to your release. A cry left your lips as you begged him not to stop and felt him smirk against your clit, promising not to stop until you came for him. 

It didn’t take too long for him to fulfil that promise. The way everything practically shattered around you had you thinking about the last time you had felt this much pleasure at once. “Holy shit”, you choked up. “That was… intense.”

“Told you, princess, I’ll bring literal heaven to you”, he smirked, slowly climbing on top of you and watching you come down from your high. “Did I keep my promise, princess?”

“You sure as hell did. But…”, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer for a kiss, “if you don’t put that damn cock of yours inside me anytime soon, I bet the cops will be very interested in knowing where you’re hiding.”

“You little minx… don’t worry, princess. I gave you a promise and I intend to keep it. You’re about to have the most intense night of your life.”

As he pulled down his jeans, your eyes widened as you saw his cock’s girth and length. You had already assumed that he was big, considering his big ass ego, but you didn’t expect this. He noticed your hesitation and laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, princess, I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re a wanted criminal, do you think I trust your word?”

“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you and I kept that promise. I told you I would bring you to heaven and I did keep that promise, too, didn’t I?”

You considered his arguments and shrugged. He had a good point with that. 

“So, do you believe me when I tell you I won’t hurt you?”

You nodded. 

He smiled softly at you before he aligned his tip with your entrance, pulling your panties aside once more and finally, pushed his cock inside slowly, inch by inch, slowly getting you used to his size. Your back arched when he was buried inside of you fully, a tear rolling down your cheek as your body was basically on fire. 

“You’re so tight, princess, feels so good”, he groaned, waiting for a moment to let you adjust to the stretch. “Can’t wait to fuck this tight pussy of yours.”

“Please, fuck me”, you whimpered, nails raking over his back as he slowly started a tender, gentle pace and before you knew it, he was starting to build a merciless, brutal rhythm, making your tits bounce with the frantic way he was thrusting into you.

The sound of his hips snapping against yours had your eyes rolls back, your legs were wrapped around his waist as you held onto him and you were pleading him not to stop, practically crying and he fucked you so good like you never had been before. 

“Goddamn it, princess, you’re so fucking hot when you get fucked like this. Do you like how I fuck you, hm?”, he rasped, lips wandering over your neck. His hips stuttered as pleasure like he never felt before coursed through his body, getting closer and closer to the edge. “I’m going to cum, princess, where do you want me to cum, hm? On your pretty tits? Or maybe inside of your tight, perfect pussy, hm? Give you a good old load of me and make you feel it drip down your thighs when I pick you up and fuck you against the wall over there?”

His words had your eyes roll back at the visual. “Please, inside”, you whined, sobbing as you clenched around him and finally reached your peak, coming around him again, sputtering in pleasure. “Fuck, Toji”, you practically wailed. 

“Am I keeping my promise, princess?”

“Yes, fuck, you are, stop asking me that and cum in me”, you groaned in annoyance. 

“Still so bossy, princess”, he laughed before he continued his rough pace and shortly after let out a choked breath, hips stilled as he came inside of you. Toji wasn’t moving at all, trying to come down from his high as he relaxed. “Fuck, princess, you feel so incredible.”

“Oh, honey, this was better than anything I have ever felt before.”

“I’m glad I got to prove to you how good I’ll fuck you”, he chuckled, slowly pulling out of you and laying down next to you. 

“Hey, I thought you were going to fuck me against the wall and have your cum drip down my thighs?!”

“You wanna go again?”

“Hell fucking yes”, you snorted and squealed when he got up on his feet and pulled you up before pushing you against the wall, lifting your legs around his waist as he kept you up against the wall and quickly slid his cock back inside of you, fucking you again and bringing you to yet another earth-shattering orgasm and another one. 

And the most exhilarating part of this was that you could hear the detectives through the thin walls, discussing their next move to finally find the guy who currently had his cock buried deep inside of you. 

The one who you had lied to the cops to, making you an accessory to the murder he had committed.

But you couldn’t care less about it, because goddamn, this was the best fuck you had gotten in your entire life. 

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Room for Two

Sam and Dean Winchester x teen!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Dean takes you in after your mom is killed by a monster, but it doesn’t go over well with Sam

“There, that shed.” Dean led the way along the dirt road, Sam right at his heels. “Keep an eye out for that thing, I’m gonna see if the kids are in there.”

Sam turned to scour the woods while Dean stepped up to the newly padlocked shed. He swiftly shot the lock, opening the doors to reveal at least a dozen startled kids, ranging from tweens to mid-teens.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

Dean was surprised to see one of the older ones brandishing a broken board as she stepped up in front of the other kids.

“Hey, I’m here to get you guys out,” Dean assured her, lowering his gun. “I’m here to help you.”

“Is-is that thing still out there?” The girl—you—didn’t lower your board as your eyes scanned what little area you can see.

“We don’t know, that’s why we’ve got to move.” Dean was becoming impatient.

“I can’t just let all these kids out there for that thing to pounce on them,” you argued, keeping your body firmly between Dean and the other children.

“Look, kid, I can protect them, but we can’t stay here,” Dean stepped forwards, and he deftly blocked your attempted blow, wrenching the board from your hands. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated, but this strange man seemed to be your best bet.

“Ok,” you said finally, knowing that the kids would follow your lead. “I want the youngest in the middle, we go as a group, no stragglers and no one gets left behind.” You turned to Dean as the kids began to shuffle out with the two of you at the lead. “I want a gun.”

“Excuse me?” He frowned at you.

“There’s a lot of kids, and a lot of places this thing could attack from. You defend the front, give me a gun and I’ll take the back.”

Dean hesitated, but a rustling in the woods nearby made up his mind for him.

“Don’t shoot anybody,” he said as he handed you one of his guns.

…

The group made it back to where the Impala was parked without incident, which made Dean assume that Sam had taken out the monster. But then where was he?

“Alright, there’s a gas station about a mile down this road. You’ve gotta take the kids there, and you can call for help.”

“What about you?” You were still on high alert, your eyes darting around the area.

“My brother’s out there trying to find this thing, I need to help him.” Dean turned to go, but you grabbed his arm.

“Wait! Do-do you have a phone?” Dean was surprised at the sudden change in your demeanor, and he finally saw you for the young kid that you were. “I have to call my mom.”

Dean’s heart lodged in his throat. He had known this moment was coming, but he still wasn’t ready for it.

Kids had started disappearing two weeks ago, just vanishing from their beds. All the parents were beside themselves, relying on cops who had no answers. Every parent except your mom. She had tried to go after the monster before Sam and Dean had gotten wind of the job.

She’d been torn apart.

“Kid.” You didn’t miss Dean’s transformed expression, or his gentle voice.

“What?” You asked anxiously.

“Kid, your mom, she…she tried to find you,” Dean sighed. “She didn’t make it.”

You were shaking your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your breathing quickened.

“That-that’s not possible. She…tha-there…” you were struggling for words, panic and grief overtaking you. “My mom can’t be-“

“I’m sorry.” When your knees gave out, Dean was right there, holding you up as you began to cry. “Kid, I’m so sorry.”

“The other kids,” you said after several minutes. You were almost standing on your own, but you still gripped onto Dean’s arms for stability. “Their-their parents-“

“All ok,” Dean assured you, surprised at the question. “Your mom…she was the only one to go after this thing. She was a genius, kid. I don’t think we could’ve found you guys without some of the research she left behind.”

“Did-did she…um…” you couldn’t seem to get the words out, but Dean was pretty sure he knew what you were trying to ask, because it’s what he would’ve asked.

“That thing is ruthless, but it…it’s fast, kid. She wouldn’t have felt any pain. Probably didn’t even see it coming.”

You didn’t speak, but Dean sensed his words had helped, if only slightly.

“Your brother,” you seemed to shake yourself out of your stupor. “These kids, they can make it back on their own. Let me help you hunt this thing.”

Dean didn’t even think about. “Not a chance.”

“Look, this thing killed my mother. I’m gonna go after it, whether I’m with you or not.”

“No.” Dean shook his head. “You’re gonna take these kids, and you’re gonna get them to that gas station, and you’re gonna call for someone to come pick you guys up.”

“I don’t have anyone to call.”

Your words silenced Dean, and you took the opportunity to continue.

“For as long as I can remember, it’s been me and my mom. That…that thing took my only family. I’m gonna help you kill it. Now you can either let me, or I’ll go on without you.”

Dean weighed his options, but it was pretty clear he had none. Those kids needed to get to safety, he had to get to Sam, and he didn’t have the time to try to drag you away.

“You stay close,” he grumbled. “And don’t shoot me.”

As soon as the group of kids had a designated leader and started their walk towards the gas station, Dean led you further into the woods to track Sam and the monster.

…

“Dang it, kid, I told you to stay close!”

“I was close!”

“I still don’t understand why you brought a child with you, Dean.” Sam’s voice cut off your argument with Dean.

“I didn’t exactly bring her,” Dean said. “She came because she’s a stubborn brat.”

“Hey, I had your back out there.”

“Yeah, but nobody had your back, because you didn’t stay close!” Dean exploded.

“It’s not that bad,” you soothed. “It might not even need stitches.”

“Oh you definitely need stitches,” Sam interjected.

“Let’s take her back to the bunker,” Dean sighed. “I can stitch her up there.”

“What?” Sam stared at Dean. “Why not the hospital? Then she can call her family and-“

“No,” Dean glanced at you as he spoke, and he didn’t miss the sudden nervousness in your demeanor. “No let’s just go back to the bunker.”

You relaxed slightly as you followed Sam and Dean to the Impala, and Dean felt his gut twist just looking at you. The kid who faced down a monster without even flinching was now trailing behind him, scared of being dropped off somewhere and abandoned without any family.

Dean slowed his pace, throwing an arm around your shoulder once he was beside you.

“You did good today, kid,” he assured you. “We’re gonna take you to a safe place, get you fixed up, and you can stick around as long as you ne…” Dean hesitated, then changed his words. “As long as you want.”

He hoped you didn’t think his offer strange, but he just felt the need to protect you. Even after just one night, you felt like a little sister to him.

He didn’t have to worry, because the hope in your eyes and the smile on your face that appeared after his words showed him that you felt the same. It showed that you were relieved to have someone to look out for you.

Relieved to have a family.

…

“And you’re done.”

Your whole body relaxed as Dean put down the needle. You didn’t even look at the stitches, wanting to keep your mind off the pain that lingered.

“Thanks, Dean.” You smiled at the man who had taken you in, patched you up, and was already starting to feel like the big brother you’d never had.

“Anytime kid.” Dean smiled back at the little girl who had seen things beyond her years, and thought about how he’d already made a promise to himself to keep you from even more harm. “Hey, there’s a few rooms right down that hallway, you can crash wherever you want.”

As soon as you were out of sight, Sam turned to look at Dean.

“Dean, what is going on? Why is she here?”

“You didn’t recognize her? You did the research, Sam, her mom was the one that got killed.”

“And?” Sam questioned.

“And she needed a place to go.”

“Ok, I get that Dean, but this isn’t exactly the best place for her,” Sam said.

“It was the only place I could think of.”

“And how long does she stay here? This isn’t a home, Dean, it barely qualifies as a place to crash. It’s a bunker; she deserves somewhere real.”

“Yeah well, she had somewhere real before that monster. Now she’s got the best I can do.”

“Dean, we can’t just take in a teenage girl! Our lives are insane!”

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

The brothers turned in unison at the sound of your voice from the doorway.

“Kid, you should go get some rest.”

“Look,” you sighed, ignoring Dean as you stepped further into the room. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. If you guys don’t want me here, just say the word and I’m gone.” You had been directing your words at Dean, but suddenly you turned to Sam. “But don’t do it because you think this isn’t good enough for me. I’m not looking for a parent, here. I’m grown, I’m raised, I’m not looking for a dad or something. I just need a place to go. If it’s not here, I’ll be fine. But I’m not privileged enough to let something like this go, if you’re ok with me staying.”

“I’m not trying to kick you out,” Sam sighed. “I just think it’s not a good idea. But it’s not my decision.”

Dean didn’t miss the way your shoulders slumped when Sam brushed past you and went to his room.

“I don’t want to be trouble for you guys.” It amazed Dean how stark the difference was between you when you were comfortable—sarcastic, strong, and quick-witted—and how you were when you were uncomfortable—like now.

“Don’t worry about Sam, he’s just…” what? Worried? Somehow it felt like more than that. “You should get some rest now, really.”

…

The next week passed quickly for everyone. You recovered quickly, and to Dean’s relief you began to get comfortable around the bunker. Sam however didn’t seem to share Dean’s feelings.

He wasn’t cruel to you; in fact he was fairly civil. But it was obvious to everyone that he didn’t want you here. Neither of you spoke about it, though. Sam seemed determined to ignore you at every turn, and that vulnerability that Dean had seen in you on the first day had gone. You spoke your mind, and for the first few days that had meant that you and Sam butted heads more times than Dean could count. Hence Sam’s current desire to ignore you.

Dean had made up for Sam’s behavior by including you in everything. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to leave, in fact he wanted more than anything for you to stay.

You noticed what Dean was doing, and you’d never appreciated anything more. But that didn’t change what else you’d noticed; it was starting to divide the brothers. With Sam avoiding you like the plague, and Dean sticking to you like Velcro, tensions were high in the bunker.

After a particularly nasty fight between the boys, you made up your mind. You couldn’t stay here. You wouldn’t repay your rescuers by being the reason that they stopped talking to each other.

You were in the room that Dean had let you claim, packing up the few belongings that you had into a backpack. It was stupid, but you began to imagine the life you could’ve had here: two big brothers. A family. People who cared about you.

You flinched when you saw a tear drip onto your hand. Once the dam was opened, it turned into a flood. The tears overtook you, so much that they quickly turned into sobs, and soon it became hard to breathe. Your knees gave out, and you sat there on the hard floor next to your bed, your arms wrapped tightly around your stomach as you cried.

“Kid?”

You were on your feet in an instant at the sound of Sam’s voice in the doorway. It was a struggle, but within a few seconds you managed to halt your tears, rubbing at your face as though you could make Sam unsee what he’d seen.

“Knock much?” Your attempt at sarcasm was half-hearted, and so pathetic that Sam had no desire to sass you back.

“The door was open.”

“I’m sorry.” You turned your back to Sam as you returned your focus to your packing.

“Going somewhere?” Sam’s voice was soft and gentle. Nothing like anything you’d heard before.

“Yeah, I-I figured it was time to move on.” You cursed both your stammer and the quaver in your voice.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes I do.”

“Look,” Sam sighed as he stepped further into your room, and you retreated from him to sit on your bed. “I know we haven’t exactly gotten along lately—“

“Don’t.” You felt the tears trying to return, and you blinked rapidly to keep them at bay, ducking your head to avoid Sam’s gaze. “It’s just better if-if I go.”

“I wasn’t trying…” Sam shook his head. “Ok, maybe I was trying to get rid of you. But it doesn’t have to be like that.”

“Why?” You scoffed. “Because I’m crying? Please don’t pity me, Sam.”

“I don’t,” Sam insisted. “I just think…maybe I haven’t been giving you a chance.” He stepped closer to you, and you looked up to see him waiting at the edge of your bed. You gave him a slight nod of invitation, and he sat down next to you. “I guess it’s just…it was weird, alright? Dean got on with you so quickly, and he never does that. I mean, within an hour he was acting like…” Sam stopped, shaking his head.

“Like I was his little sister,” you finished, and Sam nodded.

“And I guess that felt a little weird. Then you moved in, and it was like he couldn’t be parted from you. I guess it felt like he was picking you over me.” Sam sighed. “It feels stupid now that I say it.”

“It’s not stupid,” you said. “You felt like you were losing your family. I get that.” You found yourself unable to look away from Sam’s gaze. You’d only ever seen him annoyed before. You hadn’t realized how kind he could be. “But I’m not trying to be a threat here. I-I just thought…I thought maybe I could find a place here with you guys. Like…like a family. Kinda dumb, huh?”

“No.” You were surprised at Sam’s insistence. “No, not dumb. And maybe it’s not too late for that.”

“What made you change your mind?”

Sam just shrugged.

“I figured Dean’s got a pretty big heart. There’s room for both of us in there.” Sam smiled. “Besides. Maybe I wouldn’t mind a little sister.”

You reached forward suddenly, wrapping your arms around Sam’s middle. For a second, you were worried it was too soon; then Sam let out a low chuckle, and his big arms wrapped around you, basically burying you in his large frame.

“Welcome to the family, kid.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Two of Them

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: When Hondo asks you to help catch a car thief, you meet Jim Street. As you get to know one another, you learn that you have a lot in common, but balance each other out perfectly.

Warnings: r loves cars/owns an auto shop & is sarcastic and makes jokes (very similar to Street), mentions of robbery and murder, fluff, softie Street

Word Count: 4.7k+ words

A/N: There's so many things I love about this request and a ton of (personal) references! I hope you all enjoy!🤍

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

Someone wolf whistles as the garage door opens, and you walk faster to see what is worthy of such attention. When you step into the garage if your auto restoration shop, your jaw drops.

“Is that a ’59 Impala?” you ask breathlessly.

“Sure is,” Joel, your righthand man and drivetrain expert, answers. “She’s here for a tune-up. I know you’re busy, boss, so I can handle this one.”

“Yeah, right!” you exclaim. “All of my childhood dreams are under that hood.”

“You dreamt about reconstructed motors as a kid?”

“Do you talk to your wife like this, Joel? Because she’s never going to let you buy a C-10 with that attitude.”

He chuckles before he waves toward the office. “Impala owner is in there. Wants to talk to you.”

“Thanks, Joel. Don’t start without me!” you call over your shoulder.

As you enter the lobby, you put on your best customer service smile and straighten your shirt.

“Good afternoon,” you greet. “You must be the owner of that beautiful Impala.”

“Yes, ma’am. My friend Rick Castle told me that you were the person to see. I had the car restored by a guy in Texas, a ground-up rebuild, but it’s not riding as smoothly as it was before. The passenger side – sorry, I’m not very good at explaining these things – it almost feels like it’s bouncing while I drive,” he explains.

“Okay, that’s really helpful. It sounds like it’s probably an alignment issue. We can look at it today and give you a call when we find the issue,” you suggest.

“That would be great. Thank you.”

You review the paperwork he completed with Joel quickly before telling him bye. After putting his contact information into your computer system, you rush back to the garage.

“Let’s find out what’s causing the involuntary hydraulics,” you tell Joel.

“Hondo, get 20 squad in here!” Hicks calls.

As they gather in the situation room, Lieutenant Lynch queues a video pulled from a security camera. Street recognizes the location as the building they raided a few days earlier but remains quiet as she begins speaking.

“This is, of course, the building you raided. If you’ll recall, we hoped to locate an unidentified subject tied to several car robberies, assaults, and more recently, carjacking with deadly force. He killed a driver during a carjacking gone wrong and has continued to get more violent with each crime. We still haven’t identified the perp, courtesy of his never-ending vehicle supply and seeming knowledge of traffic cams. He didn’t seem to think about the security camera across the street from the parking garage before the raid, however.”

She presses a button on the tablet in her hand, and the video begins to play. Several cars come and go, but there’s nothing unusual. Hicks raises his hand to point to the time stamp, and the guys watch, waiting for some smoking gun or clear picture of the guy running from the cops. All that happens, though, is a man leaving in a convertible. Lynch pauses the video again and looks up expectantly.

“Was that a Triumph?” Luca asks excitedly. “Those are still rare in the states, even decades after they stopped manufacturing them.”

“It’s not stock,” Street adds with a shake of his head. “That’s not standard suspension, and the paint is too new to be original. Whoever brought that over had a lot of work done to it.”

“Which is great, makes it easier to find,” Hicks agrees. “Except there’s no plates, no registration, and no one has reported it missing. There’s not even a T3 in that color registered to anyone through the California DMV. We have something to look for, but no more information on who we’re looking for.”

“I know someone who can help,” Hondo says. “Classic cars, new paint, rebuilds…”

“You have a car guy?” Deacon asks. “Why?”

“Of course, I have a car guy,” Hondo scoffs. “My dad may have introduced me.”

“That makes more sense,” Luca says, nodding with Deacon.

“Hold on, guys,” Lynch calls. “The tech team thinks they may have found another lead. Consensus is this video is the same driver.”

She plays a new video, this one taken from a gas station camera. Another newer sports car pulls in, but no one exits the car. It sits for nearly three minutes, then pulls out.

“I’m not as versed as these guys, but that looks like a Lamborghini,” Tan comments. “Can’t be too hard to trace those in Los Angeles.”

“It is when they don’t have the original drivetrain. The back tires spun out way too far in that turn. It’s been modified, too,” Luca points out.

“He’s either got a thing for modified sports cars or he’s someone who’s flipping them to be completely different cars after he steals them,” Street hypothesizes.

“Your car guy gonna be able to help with that?” Hicks asks Hondo.

“Oh, yeah,” he answers. “This case’ll be closed in a week.”

“Then get out of here. You’ve got a rare car to track down.”

“One more thing,” Lynch says. “Really, I promise this is the last thing. None of those cars have been seen again. Seems like he drives them once and then ditches them.”

“He has to have his own garage, then,” Street says. “One that I wish I had.”

“Then it’s a bigger target,” Hondo declares. “Let’s roll.”

The chime connected to the front door of your shop rings loudly and you tell Joel to go check on the customer. You are under a 1977 Chevrolet Nova and elbow-deep in the engine bay. Even if you’d wanted to be the first face they saw, given that it is your business, you wouldn’t be able to get out from under the car before they assumed no one was here.

“Ah ha,” you murmur.

You pull the broken mounting bracket down past the ballast. It falls to the floor with a loud ting before you roll out from under the car. As you sit up and wipe your grease-covered hands on your coveralls, you see Hondo looking at you with his brows raised.

“Hello,” you greet.

“You got a little something right… everywhere,” he jokes.

“Funny,” you reply as you stand. “If your eyesight is that good, it’s no wonder you made SWAT.”

Someone laughs behind him, and you lean to the side. His entire squad waits in the lobby, and you wave before returning your attention to Hondo.

“I take it you’re not here about your dad’s car then,” you muse.

“Not today. We need some help with a case, if you have the time,” he explains.

“Sure. I’ll have Joel take you to my office. Let me clean up and I’ll meet you – all of you, I guess – in there in a minute.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“You owe me an entire car at this point, Hondo,” you call as you walk out of the garage.

Once you’re out of your stained overalls and have washed all of the grease and car-related grime off of your skin, you return to your office. Hondo and three other men wait beside your desk, and you invite them to sit. Hondo introduces you to Tan, Luca, and Street, and you shake each of their hands before you sit across from them. Hondo rolls his eyes when you smile at Street, but you’re not sure why.

“So, what exactly does Metro SWAT need from an auto shop?” you ask.

“Long story short, there’s a guy stealing sports cars; classics, fresh off the floor, and everything in between. Then he’s customizing them, driving them once, and ditching them for a new illegally obtained ride,” Hondo answers.

You nod as you think, then lean on your elbows on your desk. “Why customize them?”

“To make them untraceable, we think,” Luca answers. “You can’t report a car missing if it doesn’t exist anymore.”

“That tracks,” you agree. “But then the question becomes, how do you ditch them? You can’t leave something like that at a chop shop, the parts would bring more issues.”

“Private garage,” Street says. “Or maybe he’s selling them out of the county. Lots of possibilities.”

“It takes an incredibly rich, incredibly dumb person to treat cars like that,” you comment.

“We deal with criminals,” Hondo interrupts. “Rich and dumb is kind of our thing.”

“No, Hondo, cars aren’t like people. They fight back, they don’t just disappear without a trace.”

“She’s right,” Street adds. “These cars are more than property to be stolen.”

“What are you saying?” Hondo asks.

“Ever read Christine?” you joke.

“Or heard of Decepticons?” Street adds.

You smile at him again, and he nods before he winks quickly.

“So, can you help us or not?” Hondo inquires.

“Yeah, of course. What do you need me to do?”

“We’ve got some security cam footage of the cars he’s altered. We need to know where he’s getting the work done, or info on where a private garage big enough for a collection like this would be.”

“I’d be happy to look. I can’t promise anything, though. My clientele is more of the rebuild this classic or fix this issue not the I want to make a rare sports car even more unique off the books.”

“That’s why we’re here.” Hondo looks at his phone quickly and huffs. “Uh, Street, you stay and go over the videos with her. Deac said he and Chris need backup.”

“You got it,” Street answers.

Hondo thanks you quickly before he, Luca, and Tan leave. You’re left alone in your office with Street and aren’t sure how to start a conversation after joking together while Hondo filled you in on the case.

“Uh, here’s the videos. There’s only a few on this, but it should be enough to get an idea of what he’s doing,” Street says as he passes you a memory stick.

You take it from him and insert it into your computer. As the videos begin playing, you rewind it, pause it, and take a few notes. The cars in it don’t have anything in common, other than the fact that they’re stolen and modified.

“Well, I can say for sure that my guys didn’t do this work. Nobody I work with did, either. I’ll ask around and see what I can find,” you tell Street.

“I appreciate that,” he replies. “You know, when Hondo said he had a car guy, I was expecting…”

“A guy?” you guess.

“I mean, yeah. Middle-aged, beer belly, his name on the sign. The usual.”

“Sounds like my shapewear is doing its job if you don’t see a beer belly,” you joke.

“Please, you know how pretty you are,” Street replies.

“Seems like you think so.”

You lean forward and smile as you return the video drive to Street. He returns your smile and opens his mouth, likely to make another joke, before Joel knocks on the door.

“We’ve got another customer, boss. With a ’73 Corolla,” he informs.

“Excellent timing,” you mumble.

Street stands as you do and says, “Call Hondo, or me, whoever, if you find anything. Thanks for helping.”

“I will. Thanks, Street.”

He leaves through the lobby, and you take a deep breath. Joel smiles as he watches you, but you tell him to get back to work before he can comment.

“On what?” he yells behind you.

“Hondo, we’re not even doing anything,” Street groans in HQ the following morning. “Just let me go make sure she doesn’t need help or anything!”

“She knows more about cars than you do,” Hondo answers.

“That’s not what I mean. C’mon, man, she has an auto shop. Are you really going to make me sit here when I could be solving a case in my dream garage?”

“Hondo!” Deacon calls. “We’ve got another video. New car this time, but it doesn’t look modified.”

Street looks toward Hondo expectantly, and nearly cheers when Hondo sighs and tells him to go. He accepts the video and rushes to his motorcycle. Work will be more fun with you, he thinks.

“You’re back,” you say when Street walks into the garage.

“And you’re working on a 1960s Mustang,” he says dreamily.

“1964,” you tell him. “Want to take a look?”

“I’m supposed to be working. We have a new video with a different car.”

“Surely it can wait a few seconds, so you can look at the new 289 sitting pretty under the hood.”

“Yeah, we can wait,” Street agrees as he follows you to the hood of the car.

After Street takes a few minutes to admire the work you’ve done on the Mustang, you lead him to your office and bring up the new video.

“I haven’t seen it, but the people in the lab didn’t think it had been modified,” Street explains.

“Okay. Let’s see,” you say, turning the screen toward him.

Your shoulder presses against his arm as you watch, but you’re both too interested in the sports car on the screen to notice that you’re in shared space.

“I don’t see anything,” Street says.

You drag the video slowly and pause it when the wheels turn.

“That car shouldn’t be all-wheel drive. It’s a minor conversion compared to the other work you’ve shown me.”

“Who makes a Datsun 240z all-wheel drive?” Street murmurs.

“Who steals a Datsun 240z?” you counter. “They stopped making them for a reason. Short of a complete overhaul, they weren’t worth their weight in metal.”

“As right as you are, that doesn’t bring us any closer to finding this guy.”

“No,” you agree. “And none of my friends have heard anything. We’re getting the word out, though, so as soon as it reaches the right person, I’ll have more information for you. It’d be great if he decided to switch garages and was my next customer.”

“It would be easier.” Street leans back in the seat and looks at the pictures on your wall. “Best and worst customer to date, go,” he asks.

“Ooh, okay,” you say excitedly. “Best? A writer who lives up in the hills has brought me over 20 different rare classics to restore from the ground up. The worst was last week. Kid came in with a brand new, stock Lambo Huracan and wanted the double-clutch tranny switched out for a 4-speed automatic.”

“In a Huracan?” Street repeats incredulously. “I… I feel like I just aged twenty years.”

“Tell me about it. I asked him if he could drive it the way it was and never got an answer.”

“Did you do it?”

“Are you kidding? No! I’m in this business for the cars, and that’s just sacrilegious.”

Hondo knocks on your open door, and he’s leaning against it with his brows raised when you look up.

“There’s two of them!” he exclaims dramatically as he looks back at the rest of the guys. “I thought you and Street were bad enough separately, but this isn’t fair.”

“Can I help you Hondo?” you ask, ignoring his comment. Although, you don’t hate him viewing this as you and Street, together, as one.

“I just came to see if anything came of that video,” Hondo says.

“Nothing inherently helpful. Your smoking gun is still lost.”

“Keep looking,” Hondo requests, tapping his knuckles against the doorframe before he leads 20 squad away.

Street watches him leave, shakes his head, and turns back to you to ask, “How’d you get into cars?”

“My, uh, my home life wasn’t great growing up. Cars were my escape. From the time I was old enough to realize that walking out into the driveway to mess with the cars got me away from the fighting, I was out there constantly. Then it became a love for cars and everything they mean to people. This isn’t just my job, it’s my passion.”

“I lived in foster homes for too long,” Street says. “When I met my brother, Noah, he got me into motorcycles, which led to cars. We dreamed about getting a Ducati someday.”

“See? Cars mean something, they’re more than electronics and gas to get you from A to B. They’re life itself for some of us.”

“And you treat them like that. When I get that Ducati, I’ll bring it to you.”

“For what? Those are perfect as is.”

“Maybe it’ll just be an excuse to see you.”

You smile and shake your head, but you know that you’d welcome him in, anytime, with or without a Ducati.

“… And then after the toe, caster, and camber are matched up on both sides, we can move on to complete the diagnostics,” you finish.

“Okay,” the young girl says. “I need to call my dad really fast. Can I come back in and let you know after that?”

“Of course. Take your time.”

As she walks out, you notice Street standing in the doorway to the garage.

“That happen often?” he asks, gesturing toward the girl standing outside.

“Occasionally. Mostly with younger customers,” you answer. “Must be nice to have a parental relationship like that.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So, what can I do for you, Officer Street?”

“Are you ever going to call me Jim?” he asks.

“I like cars, so Street is more fun,” you reply with a shrug.

“I actually came to give you a break. Hondo said you’ve been sending him updates day and night. You have to step back from it all before you burn out,” Street explains.

“I can’t. I have cars to finish, and some of my contacts have leads that seem promising, but they have to go through a chain of different garages, and…”

Street steps to you and lays his hands on your shoulders. He waits until you look into his eyes and relax to say, “You need a break. Trust me.”

“I need to finish with her,” you whisper. “Five minutes?”

“Five minutes,” he agrees. “And then I’m dragging you out of here if you won’t go willingly.”

Five minutes later, you follow Street into the small customer parking area outside the lobby. He walks to a motorcycle, and you eye it in admiration.

“This is your bike? It’s gorgeous, Street,” you say, running your fingers over the smooth metal body.

“It’s fast too,” he replies.

You accept a helmet and put it on as he climbs onto the bike. The Cardo logo on the side of the helmet catches your attention, but as you sit behind him and wrap your arms around him, you’re more than happy to ride in silence and decompress.

When you get back to the garage, you climb off the bike and hug Street before he can swing his leg over.

“Thank you,” you say softly. “I did need that.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, you know,” he jokes as he returns your hug.

“Neither am I. And you shift into fourth too soon. That’s why it revs harder.”

“I knew coming to see you would embarrass me eventually,” Street laments. “But at least you’re pretty and really close to me.”

“I can move,” you say against his shoulder.

“No, thanks. Not until I have to go back to work.”

His phone rings in his pocket and you laugh as he grumbles, “Hondo always has to ruin the moment.”

The phone on your desk rings again as you lower the new L1 engine into a C-10. You roll your eyes at the sound but refuse to answer it.

“Somebody else answer the phone!” you call. “I can’t answer another stupid question today!”

Joel salutes you as he walks through your open door. He returns a moment later with the cordless phone in his hand and smiles.

“It’s Street. Would you like me to pass along your message?”

You extend your cleaner hand and tuck the phone between your ear and shoulder to say, “Hey, Street.”

“Can you remove the hemi from my Charger?” he asks. “It’s too loud when I drive.”

“I will hang up on you,” you threaten.

The line beeps and you pull the phone from your ear with pinched brows.

“Not if I hang up on you first,” Street says from the doorway. “Which is rude, by the way.”

“Have more videos for me to watch?” you ask loudly as you lean into the engine bay of the truck.

“No, just wanted to drop by. Nice body… the truck, I mean.”

“Sure, you did.”

You grunt as you stand and pass a screwdriver to Street.

“I don’t work here.”

“Yet you’re here every day,” Joel says from inside the cab of the truck.

“Not my fault your boss freelances for my boss,” Street replies.

“I told Hondo this morning that I hadn’t heard anything,” you interrupt as you wipe your hands on a rag.

“I know. I just wanted to drop by. I got off early, so, here I am.”

“Hmm. I was hoping you’d say you were undercover or something.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to believe this is how you dress when you’re not in uniform,” you joke.

“You’re covered in-“

“I’m at work,” you defend. “Hazards of the job. And don’t bring up the fact that my laundry room smells like motor oil because you can’t prove that.”

Your phone buzzes on the workbench behind you, and you apologize as you walk past Street to get it. He watches your eyes widen as you press the screen a few times.

“Call Hondo,” you demand.

“But-“

“I know who your car thief is. He’s on his way here right now with the Triumph T3.”

“How? Why?” Street questions.

“The guy he hired to do the work thought they were really his cars. Apparently, my name came up and with the message about him going through the automotive grapevine, his former mechanic recommended me for a modification tune-up,” you explain quickly.

Hondo arrives less than ten minutes later with the rest of 20 Squad. He asks what is so urgent as he looks between you and Street, though there isn’t much room between you.

“He isn’t ditching the cars. He’s still driving the cars because the Triumph slid last night and now he’s bringing it here to be repaired,” you tell Hondo.

“Okay, it slid and he’s bringing in one stolen car. What does that mean for me? And no automotive speak,” Hondo replies.

“Could I interest you in the Cybertronian translation?”

“Tell me what my bad guy did.”

“If I can convince him to list every car he may want me to work on in the future, could you get a warrant? I’ll try to get an address and a name for him, though they may not be legitimate.”

“We can certainly try,” Deacon agrees. “But he doesn’t seem like the type that will answer questions.”

“I have a way of getting people to talk. Especially car people. Guys like him like to brag, so if I one him up, he won’t have a choice but to tell me what you need to know.”

“Just be careful,” Street says. “Don’t let him get so cocky he thinks he has to prove himself in any way except talking about cars.”

“I won’t. But you guys need to get out of sight. He’ll want to see the garage and get a feel for the security.”

“We can pretend to be security,” Street argues.

“Nah, you got a cop face, man,” Joel says from inside the truck.

“Joel, I’m going to marry your boss and ask her to fire you,” Street shoots back.

“I want to hear more about that later,” you interrupt. “But seriously, get out of sight.”

A few minutes later, a Triumph T3 stops outside of the lobby entrance. The man who enters looks like the driver in the security videos, but you have to get more information before anything else can happen.

“Hi,” you greet. “You must be the gentleman Josh told me about. He said you had a classic, but I was not expecting a ‘50s Triumph. That’s a gorgeous car, sir.”

“I appreciate it. She’s my baby, but the steering is a bit off since I hit a wet patch last night and the back end slid.”

“That sounds like a simple enough fix. If you can just fill out some information-“

“Josh said you’d do this off the books for me, like he has. Cash upfront.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you agree. “Go ahead and pull her into the garage.”

He nods and exits the front door. You sigh and move into the garage, planning how to get him to talk about the other cars he has stolen and where he keeps them.

“Nice facility,” he compliments as he enters your garage. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a couple incredibly rare classics that I work on often, and those customers deserve the best.”

“Rarer than a 1953 Triumph T3?” the man asks, defensive and growing insulted.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve had a Model T in here, several European cars, including a T2, plus modern sports cars.”

“I’ve got a garage full of classics that make those seem like Hot Wheels.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur as you lift the hood of the Triumph. “I’ve had my hands in a 1931 Bugatti Type 41. I don’t think it gets much better.”

“My collection is worth a dozen of those outdated bugs!” he exclaims. “The Triumph, a Lamborghini Aventador with custom drivetrains, and I’d bet this car that you haven’t seen a Datsun 240z in mint condition with all-wheel drive. If your little dump of a garage could handle even that! My 25,000 square foot garage has cars you’ve never even heard of.”

“LAPD SWAT!” Hondo calls as he and his team enter the garage. “You’re under arrest for grand theft auto, carjacking, assault and battery, murder, and about fifteen more charges that I don’t have the patience to list. Now, when an arrest warrant goes through without a name, you know that’s a bad person.”

“Do not push him up against this car!” you demand as Hondo grabs his shoulder. “Toolbox, wall, anything other than a pristine T3.”

“Thanks for the help,” Hondo calls over his shoulder as he leads the thief out of the garage.

“It’s a shame such a pretty car has to go into evidence before it returns to its owner,” you tell Street.

“Yeah. Listen-“

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” you ask.

“Do you want to go out with me?” he asks.

You smile as you answer, “I’d love to.”

“Trust me, you’re gonna love this place,” you promise as you take Street’s hand. “All of the food is served in trays that look like classic cars.”

Street laughs as you bounce excitedly and uses your joined hands to pull you close.

“If you could buy one classic car, what would it be?” he asks.

You answer without hesitation before asking him the same question.

“Car? Probably an Aston Martin or a ‘60s Impala. Something sleek, classic, dangerously fast,” he answers. “Motorcycle is still a Ducati.”

“You’d suit an Aston Martin or an Impala,” you agree. “Or you can just ride shotgun in mine.”

“I was born to drive,” Street says dramatically.

You laugh at him as you slide into a booth in the restaurant. Street follows, setting the tray of food before you as he sits beside you.

“Are all of our dates going to be car-themed?” Street asks.

“You’re the one who already planned our wedding, and I’ll go ahead and tell you now that I’m not firing Joel, so you tell me.”

“I don’t care what we do as long as you’re there,” Street decides.

You smile as you turn toward him, and when you raise your chin, Street kisses you quickly. You momentarily forget about the car-themed trays holding your food, too distracted by his affection to care about which model you got. But then he tells you he got the better one and you push him away from you to check. Street laughs as he pulls you close again, and you’ve never been happier to have so much in common with one person. Maybe there are two of you, but the balance and love Street brings is perfect.

[louloulemons-posts]

Tea and Toast

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Eddie shows up at your house in the middle of the night.

Word Count : 1.1k

Warnings : Not proofread, another 2am fic, angsty, happy ending?, reader isn’t described with any pronouns or psychical features, Eddies dad, Eddie gets hurt, physical assault, talks of Eddies mom, sad Eddie, cuts and bruises, reader takes care of him.

A/N : This one is a heavy one, so please don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Baby,” you hear, brain foggy with sleep. Whining in reply, you try to block out the noise. “Sweetheart,” you feel your body being shook.

You’re awake, rubbing your eyes, to wake up your mind. Looking around in the darkness you find Eddie. “Hey,” you say, voice thick with sleep.

Pushing up, you look at him, leaning over to your lamp. He stops your hand. “Eds?”

“Just leave it off.”

“What are you doing here, thought you weren’t coming over tonight?”

“I know, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come.” He stood from your bed, but you pulled him back gently.

“You know you’re welcome anytime,” you said softly. You pulled him closer to you, “But I know you, and I know you wouldn’t show up at,” you paused and looked at your clock, “2am, randomly without a reason.”

“I couldn’t stay there,”his voice broke.

“What?” you instantly become concerned.

“Im sorry I didn’t know where else to go. He showed up and Wayne’s at work and I-I couldn’t,” his breathing sped up.

“Hey, hey slow down it’s okay. You’re safe,” you pulled him into your arms. Rubbing his back and playing with his curls the way you know he loved. “It’s okay Sweet boy, I’ve got you.”

Slowly you felt him calm down. “My dad,” he began, you didn’t rush him, “I got back from dropping you home and he was at the entrance of the trailer park.

“Wanted to talk to me. To Wayne. Started yelling, saying we ruined his life, his reputation. I tried to get him to leave but he wouldn’t … a-and then … then he um ..”

“Baby did he hurt you?” you asked carefully, not wanting to overwhelm him. He nodded into your neck, letting out a sob. “I-if he wasn’t being so loud, and the neighbours didn’t come out … I just shut down … just like I used too.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“One of the guys at the front of the park threatened to call the cops and he bolted.”

“Cause he’s a coward,” you didn’t like bad mouthing people, but Al Munson was the worst.

“Eddie my love, will you let me see your face?” you softly kissed the top of his head and he nodded, sniffling. Pulling back slightly, but not letting go, you turned on your lamp.

Looking at his face, tears came to your own eyes, “Oh my baby, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” leading him to your bathroom, you pulled out your first aid kit.

His lip was popped, the side of his face bruised, he had a black eye coming and his eye brow was cut. “Can you sit here for me?” you motioned to the closed toilet. He sat on the lid silently.

Making your way to stand between his legs, “This is gonna sting,” you spoke, antiseptic wipe in hand. He hummed, you tried to be as careful as possible, touching his eyebrow, but he let out a hiss.

“Sorry, oh I’m sorry baby. I know it hurts.”More tears fell but you knew it wasn’t out of pain, well not physically, this was in his heart. “Why does he hate me?” he sobbed, resting his head on your stomach.

“Because he’s an awful person. You are everything he could never be. You are kind and loving and sweet and gentle. He is a mean man, a broken man.”

“H-he said it was my fault mom-“

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare listen to him, it was not your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“B-but he said-“

“I know, but that is because he is a broken man who never learnt how to deal with his emotions. He didn’t talk about your mom and took out all his feelings on you, but Eds you were a baby.

“You were your moms pride and joy, she would hate the way he’s treated you. You have such a good heart and soul, and you honour your mom everyday by being so strong and kind,

“The way you look after Wayne, the kids, me. She’d be so proud. So please do not listen to a thing that nasty man says.”

He calmed in your hold, still holding you tightly. “I love you, thank you for being here,” he said, pulling away from your tummy, his face now splotchy and swollen with tears.

“I will always be here. I love you so much.” You kissed his lips softly, not wanting to hurt him anymore. “Tell you what, if you’re feeling up to it in the morning, we can go and talk to Hop. Tell him what happened, how does that sound?”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Always. Now let me finish cleaning you up.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie had changed into a pair of clothes he’d left here, whilst you went to make him some toast and tea. Something your mom did whenever you were upset.

You also decided to call Wayne’s work place. “Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered, clearly tired. “Hi, um I was wondering if I could talk to Wayne Munson please.”

Soon enough you heard his voice, “Munson,” he said simply. “Hey Wayne it’s me.”

“Oh hello Honey, is everything okay?”

“Not really,” you then explained the events of the night. “Is he okay?”

“He was shaken up. I’ve cleaned him up, we’re going to talk to Hopper in the morning. I just wanted to tell you so you could be careful, keep an eye out for him”.

“Well thank you for letting me know. Just … tell him I love him okay, and thank you for taking care of my boy.”

“I always will Wayne, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wandered up to your room, finding Eddie sat on the bed, legs crossed, eyes skimming across your bookshelf, to keep himself distracted.

“Hey,” you said softly, not wanting to make him jump. “Hi,” he smiled weakly. Passing him the plate and the mug you sat next to him, sipping your own drink.

“I spoke to Wayne, just so he can keep an eye out. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you.” Eddie paused mid bite, almost choking.

“Really?”

“His exact words, he loves his boy. I love him too,” you nudged his shoulder.

“I love you.”

The rest of the night was quiet, you and Eddie drank your tea and ate toast. He lay on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, as you played with his curls.

Soon his soft snores were filling the room. He would be okay. He was surrounded by love, maybe not Al. But Al didn’t deserve him.

People like you, Wayne, your friends. Those were the ones he needed. His family, definitely strange and not at all normal, but a family nevertheless.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍