#he’s known the umbrellas for what a week?

[alphateampilot]

So, that was the feeling. The reason behind the tension and the uneasiness. Usually such things were eased over the course of time, even for new crews working together. Being optimistic and slightly annoying was a good tool for disarming others, but this flight had no such luck. He had noticed the looks too, from Chariot. He couldn’t see the other’s response, couldn't see the face, but he heard silence. Silence was always telling. Body language, too. And Hunk? Mr. Death had a reputation for surviving any impossible situation. If he was telling Nighthawk this, then that meant that he trusted him enough to want to survive- or at least needed a pilot to get the hell out of Loire after everything went down. It’d also be a good way for Umbrella to tie up loose ends. Hunk was the only known ground survivor for the Raccoon City incident. And Nighthawk deliberately disobeyed authority to perform extraction for Alpha and Delta- Delta. He folded his arms, “A citation is the least of my worries. It doesn’t mean much to me. Honestly?" He makes a gesture, “I’ve never been outdrawn. Never been surprised. By anything or anyone." He struts around the armory, trying to walk off a little itch in his legs from sitting too long, checking his gun for posterity. “Think this is about Delta? Wolfpack?" he asks, taking an extra clip just to be certain, and glancing over the other spots to see if anything was missing.

Nothing he could notice. He glances at Hunk, through the visor, “You said that they were alive. It's been two weeks and still no RTB, which means they're rogue. You saw exactly what went down, too. You and I are the last witnesses to Raccoon City the company hasn't written off payroll yet. Truthfully, I haven't been liking anything happening since Mr. Company Vice Prez came to see us in the hospital... and Epsilon takes orders from that branch."

Hunk motions him over and the noise that cuts the rest of the plane out is his glove over the box on Hawk’s back, flipping his line to the rest of them off.

It was private conversation disguised as a lecture. Once he didn’t hear Nighthawk’s rasping through the comms, he answered.

The armory’s quiet and soundproofed to the other room. He looks for something extra to help. There’s close quarters implements in an attache case- a heated knife. He straps it to himself.

“-Think the Epsilons are either compromised or have alternative motives. Might be flying to our deaths. Won’t kill us over the ocean, at least. Not with this cargo and no copilot.”

It’s the way Jack’s speaking and moving. He had his pistol near his hand the entire time for a quickdraw. And not at Mr. Death. Pagan drew longer looks than him. She noticed it too, but he couldn’t say a thing to her, or about it. 

Something’s wrong. His boots are too loud on the floor. His side’s hurting enough to favor weight on one foot. He checks his pistol a second time. Fifteen chances.

“I want to play this like we’ll be drawn on,” he says, checking for a piece on him.

Nighthawk’s not a mole. Or if he was, he was a simultaneously damn good one and stupid one, so be it. He already had a gun out.

“We’ll be cited for comms break– What kind of shot are you?”

It suddenly became very dangerous. The lenses reflect the acid orange of Hawk’s flight suit back at him. Bright, and eerie.

[mydarlingmylifeandmybride]

When jennifer asked ben what made his past few years difficult, i fully expected him to say that all six of his siblings died and not that he was in jail because of money crimes

[milktiicup]

do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling

persistence is key

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<

warnings. canon typical violence >w<

You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 

You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”

In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.

At least for a while, he left you alone.

Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.

However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.

It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.

A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 

You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?

You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.

Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.

And Mr. Scarletella. 

The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.

“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”

Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 

You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 

“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 

“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.

“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”

The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.

You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”

Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.

“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 

The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 

The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.

“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”

He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 

“No. Go away.”

“Give name. Teach.”

“Go away!”

“Teach name.”

“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”

He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 

“Wrong name.”

“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.

“You teach them name?”

Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”

“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 

Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 

You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.

Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 

“Hehe.”

You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 

You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.

Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 

You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.

Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  

“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”

“Help you.”

“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”

Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 

“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”

“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”

Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”

“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”

“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 

You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”

He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.

He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”

Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 

Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 

Oh my good God, does he like you?

“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”

You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…

Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  

“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 

Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 

He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”

“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”

“Them!” 

Curse this damn language. 

“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”

His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…

Umbrella.

You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.

That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 

Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 

How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!

You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!

In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.

Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 

“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”

Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.

Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 

“Can’t give name,” you remind him.

He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 

Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 

“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”

“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”

“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”

There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 

And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”

You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.

But at least something is better than nothing, right?

[shegetsburned]

❝ the duke’s proposal ❞ w. satoru gojo 𝜗𝜚.

BRIDGERTON AU⌇

• — dearest gentle readers. the time has come for us to place our bets for the upcoming social season! marriage-minded mamas must consider the oldest of the gojo’s family thrilled to conquer hearts with his wits and undeniable charm. having officially announced his wish to find a bride, we certainly hope to see the young rake, on the dance floor, turn the tides and find a wife after much seasons of avoiding his duty. may the best lady win! • — a/n. i know @grumpchua asked for this and i believe it will feed some of y’all, so here’s the food <3

.nsfw.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who you’ve known ever since your debut and has been a inconvenience in your life for quite a while. like a tick biting into your flesh, only bringing trouble and worry for yourself. truth is, the duke loved pestering you about failed courting attempts or clumsy men coming to steal your hand, only to fall with them into a life of misery and depths. you undoubtedly did not attract the smartest and wealthiest of them all and satoru took advantage of this unwanted success.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who’s audacious. far from being a gentleman. the cockiest of all rakes. you did not only despise the man, you thought he was without honour, unromantic and arrogant. lord satoru was, in fact, everything you thought he was, but loved to show you personally every single one of his flaws.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who, despite your best efforts, thought no better but to follow you around at every ball and "unexpectedly" bump into you at the market or when you walked out of the modiste. lord gojo was high in the instep, purposely shoving his strength of character and title in unfortunate suitors’ faces every time they deemed to approach you. needless to say, he took pleasure in crushing your chances of ever securing a proposal.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who has never really shown any interest in you, before. he would rather amuse himself by courting pretty debutantes only to leave them hanging and being chased by the impatient mamas of the ton. that was until his status caught up to him and forced the man to consider a serious marriage proposal. unfortunately for you, an idea blossomed into the young rake’s mind when he realized his need to find a bride was more urgent than he hoped to be.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who, one evening, during a tranquil promenade, abruptly stops and steals you from your mama, offering his hand for you to finish your walk beside him. he obviously had a plan and it involved the lady that despised him the most in this entire ton: you— and who would be better than you to not catch feelings and be able to execute his plan perfectly?

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who proposes an alliance. knowing you only attract the worst suitors possible, he assures you that more eligible men will throw themselves at your feet when they see the famous duke gojo court you. he swears it’ll only be temporary until he can find a suitable bride of his own without hundreds of ladies begging for his attention when you’re wrapped around his arm. you’ll be found desirable and he’ll have the peace he desires. what could possibly go wrong?

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who, for the first days, tries harder than any other years you’ve known him. the first day, your carriage’s waiting downstairs to meet him in the parc. he’s holding your umbrella above your head the whole time and acting like quite the gentleman, for once. he laughs with you, readjusts your hair and takes care of every single one of your needs. this masquerade goes on for two weeks where, each day, he surprises you with gorgeous flowers, kind gestures and words you would’ve never thought to hear. until one night, it’s an invite to his mansion that’s waiting for you, which you accept thinking it’ll just be another public appearance with him by your side. oh, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who welcomes you in his home, one gentle hand resting against the back of your corset to escort you to the ballroom where people were gathered and seemed to be enjoying their evening. everything would’ve seemed in order if not for the many men eyeing you from across the room. it seemed odd now, considering you hadn’t had this kind of attention for weeks, but it also seemed like satoru’s plan had worked and you couldn’t be more satisfied.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who listens to you converse with one of the gentlemen who had introduced himself to you. he seemed kind, polite, educated and of high status, which couldn’t have been more perfect if it hadn’t been for the duke terminating the conversation with a harsh remark and by guiding you to the dance floor without even writing his name on the card around your wrist. he had lost his temper in a matter of seconds and you were more than surprised by his lack of manners.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who tries to convince you to play along but you know this is entirely about something else. his grip around your waist and hand has never been so tight. he’s pulling you closer until his breath tickles your face and his words are whispers when he reminds you that your deal isn’t over and you’ll have to wait until you are allowed to let yourself be courted by other men. you try to respond but he spins you around gracefully. his fingers trail your column when he catches you and before you know it, you’re dancing with him and no one else is in the room.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo whose deep gaze startles you. he hasn’t left your eyes and does not plan to until he gets a proper response from you. satoru’s piercing blue eyes linger on your lips with a cocky smirk and you don’t know why your heart is beating so fast. he had never shown this facet of his before and it made your chest flutter. would he have preferred your attention was entirely on him, this evening, and not on the handsome suitor that had caught yours? no. you hated him. he was tricking you to make it seem real.. right?

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo whose tension is enough to fill the room with curious whispers surrounding your odd pair. you two made it seem like you had shared more than simple dinners and promises. in front of everyone, you looked used to being so intimate with satoru, but you were trembling in your shoes when he leaned forward, grazing his lips against your ear to try and make you understand that he wouldn’t allow any suitors to approach you just yet.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who pulls you away from the crowd, stealing you away to his bedchamber in front of indiscreet pairs of eyes. he seems more impatient than ever when his instinct takes over and, god, your innocence has an unexpected hold on him. you question satoru with incomprehension in your eyes until he finally closes the door to answer you.

₊˚ପ⊹ duke!gojo who skillfully shows you everything you’ve been missing and every little sinful activity he’s been partaking in with innocent debutantes such as yourself. only this time, he means it. his hands touch every sensitive spot, his lips cover yours and trail down to your exposed chest. his fingers slipped under your dress, letting him discover your body with your help as you take him in, whining at his insensitive touch.

you’ll never know, that night, if duke satoru gojo meant to lose his mind over you in front of everyone else for his scheme and personal gain or if it had been purely accidental and you had just mesmerized the rake in a matter of weeks to the point where he couldn’t think about anything else but to have you in his bed for the rest of his life.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[poundstonaira]

Moment - Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

CW: PinV, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Cowgirl, Drugging, Friendly Experiment, DubCon, Porn with Feelings, Cunnilingus, Dry Humping, Resident Evil 2 Leon, Rookie Police Officer Leon, Friends with Benefits/Possible Romantic Undertones (?)

Song Inspiration: Moment - Victoria Monet

Word Count: 7,278

Summary: A friendly experiment turns into something more, revealing true feelings.

It was a rainy autumn morning in Racoon City, and your favourite rookie has just finished a mission, it appears to be. He was headed up the stairs of the main lobby of the police department before you snuck up behind him. 

“Rookie Officer Leon Kennedy.” You whispered behind your new friend, creeping a hand up his shoulder, earning a flinch from the blue-eyed boy. He fully turned around to face you with a startled expression and a flushed face. 

“O-oh… Good Afternoon, doctor.” He looked away upon seeing your face, scratching the back of his head. You smile at him due to his obvious shyness of your presence. 

Leon just started working at the Racoon Police Department less than two weeks ago and you have already taken an interest in him. There was just something about his bashfulness and politeness that made you intrigued in the young gentleman. You were a scientist and a doctor who worked at Umbrella and also took charge in checking in with the officers at RPD to see if they were healthy, knowing their job often takes up time, which affects their mental, physical, and overall health. Since Leon just started, you took extra time making sure he was alright– not only that, but it was also because you were bored and like messing with the boy. 

“Did I scare you?” You cooed, a side of your lip curled upward in a smirk, inching your face closing to Leon’s as he took a step back. You took a step forward. “You look like you just saw a ghost.” You added, chuckling harmlessly. 

“A little.” Leon muttered, his face a little red. At his response, you laughed warmly, placing a finger to his cheek to see how warm his face was. 

“You don’t have to lie, officer. It’s okay to get a little scared.” You said, still teasing him. The red colour on his cheek intensified at the usage of his title.  

“I don’t get scared.” He scoffed, politely removing your finger from his cheek and placing it back down to your side. 

“Then explain that flinch you did upon me touching you.” 

“You caught me by surprise.” 

“Which means I scared you.” You stuck your tongue out. 

“...” Leon sighed, running a hand through his hair, then placing his hands in the pockets of his black pants. “Anyways, why are you in the police department today? Don’t you have a new virus to study?” He asked with curiosity, no sign of annoyance anywhere. 

That question alone would then proceed to him having an experience like no other. If only he’d known. 

“I can’t check to see how the rookie is doing? Jeez… so quick to get rid of me, aren’t you?” You pretended to act hurt, putting a hand to your chest.

“N-no! I didn’t mean it like that…” He denied, putting his hands up, proving his innocence. “I was just curious as to why you’re here today, you’re rarely here today.” He continued, his eyes wide with small fear, probably hoping that you weren’t actually hurt with what he said.

“I have a new medicine I’ve developed… I need to test it on someone… preferably male.” You said casually, to which you earned a look from Leon with his eyes wide and mouth agape, eyebrows knitted from what seems like horror. Leon took a nervous step back on the stairs from where he was, which made him more taller than you in the moment. 

“Uhh… I don’t like where this is going, doc.” Absolute uncertainty came from his voice, he took three steps back on the stairs.

“Oh you will, just follow me.” You snatched his hand with enough force to almost make him trip and dragged him towards the outside of the police station.

“What if-”

“Do you have any objections?” 

“No, ma’am.” Leon sighed, doing nothing but following you to wherever the hell you were taking him. 

… 

“Welcome to my personal laboratory, Leon.” You opened the door to your lab with Leon behind you. It had the black counters filled with various, usual lab items on top of them such as the microscopes, the tweezers, the gloves, the bottles of the pills, the graduated cylinders, beakers, the filtering flasks, the coffee filters and other usual scientist materials you used for researched. Past the countertops and cabinets and such, there was a bed and a desk  behind the lab, it sort of looked like a dorm bedroom. 

“I still don’t like the sound of this, Doctor.” You heard Leon say behind you as he still followed you toward the bed. At his response you turned around with a raised eyebrow. 

“And why is that? Are you scared I'm going to turn you into a bioweapon?” You asked, frowning. 

“Well… Yes but knowing you, I don’t think you would actually do that to me.” He took a seat on the bed as you went to the desk. You laughed. You were many things; a doctor, a chemist, a botanist, an overall scientist, a little unhinged when it came to your interests, a few years older than Leon (he was 21, and you were 25), a chocolate croissant lover, a coffee hater but, you weren’t a bioterrorist. That was for sure. 

“You’re right. Anyways," You said, looking at the blue capsule that laid on a tissue, next to a cup of water. "To the point; I need to see how your body is going to react to this new supplement. You’re not going to be in any pain but you may get a little aroused. Are you okay with that?” You emphasised on the word ‘little’, picking up the capsule and handing it to the rookie police officer. You were lying, it was a sex enhancing supplement for Christ’s sake. He will get aroused. By a huge amount. Getting aroused wasn’t the concern since that was a given, it was how he would react to the supplement. Would he keep control? Would he lose control of his urges? Would see for yourself and deal with the consequences later.

“If I’m not going to die, sure.” Leon eyed the capsule carefully, even blinking twice. He’s most likely thinking if doing this was either going to kill him, or if the actual effect of the supplement would end up doing something to him that would have him lose control over himself. You were thinking the same thing. 

“Excellent.” A thought sparked your curiosity. “Ever had sex before, Leon?” You smirked, earning another concerned look from the boy who still hasn’t swallowed the capsule yet.

“Once… I think.” He spoke shyly. 

‘Pfft. He thinks? It’s either you did or you didn’t.’ You sighed to yourself. 

“Okay. You can take the pill now,” You told him.  “After you take the pill and drink the water, I’ll need you to lay on the bed so I can track the reaction of the pill versus your body.” You turned on the computer that was on your desk. 

“How does that work?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Your desk had a computer on it that was bluetoothed to the bed itself. When powered on, the computer tracks and sees sounds and images from the person who was on the bed, but that was only if they were unconscious. How did you engineer it to work? You don’t even know yourself.

“Here goes nothing.” Then, Leon swallowed the pill and drank the cup of water before laying on the bed, waiting to pass out.

‘Here goes nothing indeed.’

Nothing is going to happen. It’s just a friendly experiment, isn’t it? 

...

“Please… can I eat you?”

Well, this is not what you were expecting. On the screen, the rookie police officer was between your legs. Your dress was pulled up to your hips, Leon was holding your dress up with one hand while the other was holding onto your underwear. You stared at Leon, your eyes and his both wide with curiosity and obsession.

“Leon…” You let out a heavy sigh, he leaned into your neck which made you feel his warm breath, you heard him sniff, he took in your scent. 

“Please, miss. Please let me have you… I promise I will be a good fucktoy for you.” Leon whined, laying his head on your neck, still sniffing your addicting perfume. As you were watching this all go down from the screen, your breath hitched. 

‘No way.’ Your heart dropped to your stomach out of shock. You covered your mouth with your hand as the other was attempting to write down notes of the current situation happening on the screen. 

You watched as all you could do was nod your head and watch as he gently took your underwear off and threw it on the floor beneath you. You saw your nectar dripping down your thighs just by the action. Leon then dropped down and started licking your inner thighs, automatically moaning. The combined sounds of him using his tongue on you, his moans against your drenched pussy, and your whimpers didn't make it any better.

“I’ve thought about doing this so many times. I’ve even masterbated to the thought of you and how you would feel, taste, and sound, and it’s even better feeling it right now… God, miss, you are so perfect.” The rookie worshiped you, his moans and licks earned a wanton moan from you. You were breathing so heavily as if your life was on edge. 

“T-that feels so good– oh Leon~.” You breathed out, your arousal rising with every lick and suck Leon did to your pussy.

“You taste so good, miss. Am I doing a good job, miss? Am I being a good boy for you?” He asked, you felt his excitement on his lips against your wet, soaked flower. 

“You are such a good boy, Leon– fuck!” You saw yourself throwing your head back, grabbing onto Leon's hair forcing his head to your crotch even further, making the polite assault against your flower even more intense. 

“I'm so hard for you. You don't know how long I've been waiting for my tongue to taste you.” You felt his mouth against your flower as he breathed you in for a moment before licking your clit. “I love how you taste. I want more.” He moaned into your dripping cunt again, talking between long, languid, and torturing licks.

Oh. And he got more. He adjusted your position, pushing you further away from the edge of the bed and closer to the middle, causing a yelp to leave your lips. He had a better angle, his head was buried between your thighs, slurping up all the juices that left your body and into his mouth, and around his lips. Leon’s hands made sure your legs were wrapped his head tightly, he did not want to let you go nor have this moment end.

Meanwhile, you were watching it all happen from the screen, rapidly blinking, trying to figure out what on earth was going on inside Leon’s head. It was so bizarre, so wild, and so raunchy but, it fascinated you. Was this what Leon was daydreaming about when he was on his shifts at the police station? Was he really thinking about having you scream his name while he devoured you? There’s no way. 

You didn’t even know what to write down anymore, you already recorded how sweaty Leon’s actual body was, his heavy breathing, not to mention his erection. It was beyond impressive. 

‘There’s no way he’s this bold… There is just no way.’ You thought to yourself as you continued to watch in awe. 

 “L-Leon… calm down.” You tried to warn him as he now used two fingers to rub your clit as he licked you. “It’s too much.” Your breath hitched. There was sweat dripping down your face, tears left your eyes and your make up was smudged, and there was drool dripping down your chin. You were an absolute mess. Even your eyes were losing focus as you tried to grab Leon’s hair again as a way for him to slow down. He only got quicker. 

You stared at the screen in awe but, your eyes were squinted and your mouth was closed firm, trying to hide your amusement at what was going on inside the blond rookie’s head. He was definitely a virgin if he was holding back all of this sexual desire to fuck you. He was given the opportunity to make you come many times but never actually did. Now, you kind of understand why. It would be weird to let him fuck you the way he wanted to if it mean that you were on the verge of passing out, and he didn’t even plunge his dick into you yet. 

“I can’t calm down, mistress.” His voice was muffled, still eating you out. He looked at you with those lovely baby blue eyes of his, they were full of euphoria. The pet name sends butterflies twirling around your stomach. “You’re so beautiful that I can’t stop.” 

“B-But Leon–” You started and you stopped, he gave you one nice lick on your clit as he used his fingers inside of you to reach to your G-spot.  “I’m gonna–” You reached your high, let out a heavy moan as you came to your release, he slurped all your juices up again. Leon moved so that his face was on top of yours, he was panting heavily himself, staring at you with so much care and desire. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, miss?” Leon asked you before he went down to kiss you on the lips, you saw yourself react to the kiss, you twitched a little and it was probably because you could taste yourself on his lips.  

Your head was tilted to the side as you watched the interaction continue. You couldn’t say you weren’t aroused, though. It was really hot. Leon was hot. You looked tired, almost gone from pure pleasure.

Then, your eyes closed and the screen went blank. 

‘That must mean he’s awake now.’ You walked away from the screen and went to see Leon’s physical body. He’s on the verge of waking up. Leon’s body was all sweaty, his breathing was intense, his mouth was agape, and his erection was still there, loud and proud. What a virgin. 

“Leon? Are you okay?” You asked him, putting the back of your hand to his head, he was still sweaty but you didn’t mind. 

Leon slowly opened his eyes. 

Leon’s eye met your eyes, a flicker of fear mingling with something else you couldn’t quite place. He was young, his eyes still holding the wide-eyed innocence of someone who hadn’t yet seen touched the woman they have loved. You felt a sudden surge of protectiveness and an arrival of lust.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice husky. “I… couldn’t control my thoughts anymore… I’m sorry.”

You took a step closer, your heart beating a little faster. You placed your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of his skin radiating through onto your hand “It’s okay, Leon. I’m not disgusted or anything.”

His gaze held yours, intense and full of a raw vulnerability that made something inside you stir. The air, thick with unspoken emotion, crackled between you.

He leaned forward, a hesitant touch of his lips grazing your cheek. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, a strange sensation that made your pulse quicken. He was now a patient of yours and not just your friend. He was your responsibility, yet in that moment, you felt the boundaries blurring. It was inevitable. 

He pulled back, his baby-blue eyes filled with a question you couldn’t quite decipher. You knew you shouldn’t, that this was wrong, yet the pull was irresistible. You reached out, your fingertips brushing against his cheek, the feeling of his skin smooth and cool beneath your touch.

He closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. You could feel the tension in his body easing, his need for comfort and reassurance radiating through their unspoken connection. You leaned forward, the gap between you diminishing, until your lips met his.

Leon was kissing you. 

The kiss was soft, hesitant at first, but it quickly deepened, the warmth of his mouth against yours igniting a fire in your veins. It was a collision of need and desire, a shared moment of vulnerability that transcended the limitations of your roles.

As the kiss broke, you stepped back, your breath catching in your throat. The room seemed to spin, the scent of disinfectants suddenly overwhelming, a stark reminder of the reality that surrounded the two of you.

“I-” Leon started, but you stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“N-no. It’s okay, you can continue.” You sputtered out, looking away, hoping he doesn’t reject your offer. And he doesn’t. 

“Miss…” He breathed out, placing you on his lap. “ Are you sure?” He held you onto your hips, securing you in his arms.  

“Yes.”

“Because I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself for much longer.”

“It’s alright, Leon, because you have me where you want me.”

Leon's strong arms encircle your waist, his hands exploring your curves as he pulls you closer. Your heart races at his touch, as if it's trying to break free from your chest. You can feel the warmth radiating from his muscular body, a stark contrast to the cool lab air that envelops you. His blonde hair is slightly disheveled, and his blue eyes shimmer with desire as he gazes into yours.

As a doctor and scientist, your mind usually focuses on logical explanations and solving complex problems. But in this moment, surrounded by the evidence of your shared passion, your thoughts are consumed by Leon. Your fingers trace the lines of his biceps, feeling the strength that lies beneath. The heat between you grows stronger, like a flame that refuses to be extinguished.

Leon's lips find yours, delicious and demanding. His kiss tastes like the promise of something new, something exhilarating. His hands wander to the buttons of your lab coat, undoing them slowly, as if savoring each moment. Your body shivers in anticipation as the cool air brushes against your skin.

The fabric falls away, revealing your skin underneath. You're a vision of beauty, a testament to the fiery passion that burns between you and Leon. The soft strands of your hair cascade over your shoulders, framing your face and making you look even more captivating.

Leon's gaze rakes over you, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. He tucks a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, a tender gesture that sends a jolt of electricity through your veins. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eliciting a soft gasp. You reach for the hem of his uniform, ready to unravel the layers that separate your skin from his.

But first, Leon wants to taste every inch of you. His lips trail a path down your neck, lingering on the sensitive spot where your pulse throbs wildly. His stubble scratches against your skin, coaxing shivers of delight from deep within your core. His mouth continues its descent, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your hands find their way into his hair, tangling in the golden strands as you pull him closer. His tongue traces the outline of your bra, teasing the erect nubs beneath the lace. Your breath catches at the exquisite pleasure, your body arching towards his touch.

Leon's fingers deftly unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts to the cool lab air. His hands cup them, his fingers gently pinching the nipples, sending darts of pleasure to your core. You can feel the dampness seeping through your panties, a clear sign of your growing desire.

Your body thrums with need, yearning for more than just these tantalizing touches. You manage to unbutton Leon's uniform, hastily pushing it off his shoulders. His muscular chest is revealed, a testament to the countless hours he's spent training. Your fingers trace the lines of his muscles, feeling the tautness beneath.

Leon's skin is like stone tempered by fire, hot and unyielding. He responds to your touch, his breath heavy and ragged. His confidence as a rookie police officer is replaced by the vulnerability of a man surrendering to his desires. He's no longer in control, and at this moment, neither are you.

Together, you're two bodies caught in the whirlpool of passion, swirling and spinning, swept away by the force of your love. You help each other out of your clothes, until you're both completely bare, your bodies bared for each other to see and touch.

You lie back on the bed, inviting Leon to explore every inch of your body. He accepts the invitation, his mouth returning to the tender spot where your neck meets your shoulder. His tongue traces the outline of your ear, and you can't help but gasp at the sensations that ripple through you.

Leon's hand slides down your body, tracing a path from your collarbone to your abdomen. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, teasing the skin beneath. You wriggle in anticipation, desperately wanting him to continue exploring.

At last, his fingers slip beneath your panties, finding the slick heat that signals your desire. You moan at the tender touch, your back arching off the bed. Leon's fingers dance over your clit, teasing and exploring, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Fuck…” Suddenly, his fingers slip inside you, filling the void that's been aching for him since the moment you met. Your body clenches around him, your hips bucking against his hand. Leon's lips capture your moans, silencing them with another searing kiss. “Faster… please…” 

Together, you climb the mountain of pleasure, reaching higher and higher until you're teetering on the edge. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, your body trembling with the force of your need. And then, suddenly, you fall, plummeting into the abyss, the pleasure exploding through you like a supernova.

You cry out, your orgasm tearing through your body, a fierce storm that leaves you breathless and disoriented. Leon's fingers continue their rhythm, drawing out the last waves of pleasure until you're limp and sated.

But you're not done yet. There's still the matter of Leon, his body straining and aching with need. You wrap your hand around his length, feeling the warmth and hardness beneath your fingertips. Leon groans at your touch, his hips bucking forward, as if seeking more.

You oblige him, your hand sliding up and down his shaft, slick with desire. Your thumb rubs circles over the tip, eliciting gasps and moans from Leon. His body trembles beneath your touch, the pleasure building inside him like a volcano about to erupt.

And then, with a final, desperate moan, he gives in, the pleasure surging through him like a tidal wave. His release spills over your hand, warm and sticky. You continue to stroke him gently, calming the waves of pleasure that still ripple through his body.

You felt Leon plop his body onto yours, sweaty and heavy as he was panting from his orgasm. You breathed in his masculine, musky, and fresh scent. He smelled so good. 

“I’ll give you five minutes.” You sighed, running your other hand through his hair. 

“Thank you, miss…” He let out a tired laugh while he was still laying his body on top of you, breathing you in.

You just sat there, still horny and on-edge, studying his nut on your hand. Of course, it was white, wet, sticky, and a little thick, but you wondered what it would taste like if you were to have a little lick. Was that weird?  

All of a sudden, Leon pulls you by the hips and flips you on top of him, actually lining up his length beneath you. You tried to use your arms to steady yourself but you were too startled. 

“W-what!? Already?” You gasped, placing your hands on his firm, muscular, but lean chest to further balance yourself as you straddled him. You keep forgetting he’s drugged, and it left you thinking if this was really okay.

“I told you I wouldn’t be able to hold back…” Leon huskily whispered in your ear,  holding your neck with hand, basically gluing you in place. “Please, miss… please just let me fuck you.”   

Your core got heated just from hearing his plea and you felt yourself dripping wet again. “Leon… You’re not sober… You’re drugged… This isn’t right.” Even so, you protested, trying to keep this barrier between the two of you. Then again, it was hopeless at this point. 

“That doesn’t matter, I need this… I need it now.” Without a second thought, he plunged himself into you, causing a wanton moan to leave your lips as soon as your body first reacted to the stimuli. 

‘He’s bigger than I thought…’ 

“Leon…” You whined, tears filling your eyes from the immense pleasure as you placed your hands on his shoulders for guidance. His upward thrusts started off slow as a way to get used to your tight entrance, he then started to warm up, thrusting upwards a little faster. “You’re so big…” 

“You’re so tight, miss. You’re squeezing me so good… Fuck…”  Leon lets out a high-pitch moan, gripping your hips harder than before, ensuring that all you can do is bounce on him. 

The pleasure was overwhelming, too much even. That didn’t stop you, though, it made you even more hungry and horny. You bounced on him faster and faster, moving your hands to his chest, admiring the scene of how each lean but callous muscle sat perfectly beneath his skin as clenched around his cock tighter.

“You’re doing such a good job, miss– I’m so close…” His hand moved to your ass, causing you to lean down towards him. You were no longer doing all the here as he took matters into his own hands and started thrusting into your cunt faster than before, so fast that you were losing yourself in the process and your vision blanked out, and you swore you saw all the stars in the the universe as Leon pounded into you. You were practically drooling. 

‘He’s close already?’ That was your only thought as you kept repeating the same actions, all you could hear was the sounds of your own moans and pants, and Leon’s whines and whimpers. You were getting close yourself, so close that your body was becoming limp on top of him, but he held you up by the front of your neck with his other hand. 

“Ngh– Leon!” It all felt amazing and electrifying at the same time, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. The motion had you overstimulated and breathing heavily than before. You were at your  breaking point before you came all over Leon’s cock. At the same time, Leon did one final thrust before spilling his seed into you, making you gasp at the warm feeling in your canal.

“Did you enjoy yourself, miss? You came all over my cock…”

At last, you both lie spent and sated, tangled in each other's arms. The lab air is cool against your skin, but you don't feel the chill. Instead, you bask in the afterglow of your love, the connection that binds you together.

As a doctor and scientist, you've seen love in many forms, but none as intense and passionate as the love you share with Leon. It's a force that defies logic and reasoning, a force that transcends the boundaries of your lab and reaches out into the world.

He stared at you, a mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes. “I... I should go,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to find the words to articulate the turmoil within you. You watched him leave, the image of his lingering gaze seared into your memory.

The lab felt empty, the hum of the fluorescent lights suddenly hollow. You were left with the lingering taste of his kiss, a forbidden fruit that left you both wanting and guilt-stricken; His hands, which felt as if it was heaven on earth against your skin; His body, it was as if you were in the arms of a protector. It was a moment of reckless abandon, a transgression of boundaries that you knew you couldn’t repeat. It was a secret that you would carry with you, a memory that you knew would forever haunt you, a reminder of the line you had crossed.

...

You were in your lab, sitting at your desk, conflicted. 

“I… I should go…” 

The look of confusion but nervousness on his face after you guys had your moment yesterday, it really stuck with you. But, you weren’t sure what really conflicted you: Was it the unethical situation of a drugged Leon begging you to fuck him, or was it the fact that you were stunned with his feelings for you? Then again, you wouldn’t be able to tell because he was drugged.

‘The information I’m getting from yesterday is messing with me… very badly. I’m not sure if Leon meant everything he said or if the pill was controlling his thoughts.’ You wrote down in your notebook. Your lab was silent while the sound of you clicking your pen rapidly was the only sound that was made. 

Your body didn’t feel right. More specifically, your mind wasn’t in the right space. Your stomach hurt a little bit but you felt all tingly inside at the same time. 

Although you hated to admit to yourself, you really didn’t want yesterday to only be a one time thing. You wanted more, you wanted to see how Leon truly felt about you without any type of drug getting in the way of his thinking. 

Then again, Leon was nice. Too nice when it came to women it would appear.  So, here you were, at your desk, in your lab, staring at the same bed Leon fucked you on, the same bed where Leon imagined himself eating you out on, thinking about how you are going to approach him about this. ‘This’ being the new relationship you guys may have to take into consideration between the two of you. Your bottom felt tense as you bit it. 

‘But I don’t want to disturb him again. He’s probably really perplexed because of yesterday. Maybe I should-’ Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard that annoying repeated vibration from your cell phone that was on your desk, next to your notebook.  And speak of the devil, it was Leon calling you. You felt your stomach sink as soon as you saw his name on the screen. 

‘Great. Now he’s gonna say that we shouldn’t be friends anymore.’ You slowly picked up your phone and swiped to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answered with a stoic voice, waiting for the blond-haired man to speak next. 

“Hey, _/_…” There was a moment of silence. At this point, your stomach tried eating itself alive before the next sentence was said. You were so nervous that you even debated hanging up on him. “I was wondering if you had time to meet up today? It’s Friday, so my shift ends earlier than usual.” Oh?

To your surprise, you adjusted yourself in your seat, now perked up with your stomach relaxing on you. “Uhm… Yeah, we can. Where do you want to meet up?” You asked with a bit more gleam in your tone.

“How about my apartment? It’s not too far from outside Raccoon.” The butterflies in your stomach started swooning, but you had to calm yourself down. Maybe he wanted to speak to you in a private place so that nobody is aware of what you two did in the building yesterday. 

‘His apartment? Is he going to pick me up or something? I take a cab to work everyday.’

“If you’re willing to pick me up from my lab, then sure.” You simply replied, staring at the digital clock at your desk. The current time was 16:30PM. (4:30PM) This meant that you had 30 minutes left until you were free until Monday, then the work cycle starts all over again. It also meant that you had 30 minutes until you had to talk to Leon.  That didn’t help your anxiety. 

“That works. What time do you finish work?”

“In 30 minutes.”  

“Great. See you then.” 

“Cya.” You hung up the call, too shaky to stay on the line just a little bit longer. All you wanted to do was to get this done and over with, whatever he wanted to speak to you about. 

…

With haste, you left your work building, leaving through the front door and to see a clean, white RPD car in a Toyota Camry model parked right in front of you. It has to be Leon. You hurry up in your high heels, walking quickly down the stairs in front of the building. Before you could reach the last step, Leon steps out of the car, still in uniform and walks over to the shotgun seat of the car and pulls the door open with a click. ‘Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.’ You thought to yourself. 

For a moment, you stared at him, moreso, his body. While it was covered by his police uniform, which consisted of a blue button shirt, black pants, his belt and other shit you don’t care about, you were still able to pay attention to how nice his body was. Leon’s arms were a sight to see; lean, but there was enough muscle on his arms for you to fawn over. Not to mention how nicely the veins were placed on his forearms, and then hands were lovely too, they would make a nice necklace- 

“Something wrong?” He interrupted you out of your thoughts, raising an eyebrow and sticking his bottom lip out a bit. It was such an adorable face he made. He’s so cute when he’s curious.  

“You… have a nice car.” You stumbled over your words, going to the passenger seat. 

“Pfft. Thanks.” He scoffed before he closed the door and went to the drivers side and got in. You placed your tote bag on your lap right after you put on your seatbelt. All of the sudden, Leon grabs your tote bag and places it in the backseats. 

‘Uhm. Okay.’ You blinked rapidly. He didn’t even ask, he already knew to put your stuff away so that you weren’t carrying it on your tired lap.

“My apartment isn’t too far from here. It should be like a 30-40 minute drive from here.” The blue-eyed boy said as he started to drive. 

“That’s fine. It’s Friday so I don’t have work tomorrow. We can talk for as long as you want to.” You mumbled, looking out at the car’s windshield, not wanting to stare at Leon in case you couldn’t control your hormones. If you were to stare at him, it would make it look obvious that you still wanted more. Craved more. Needed more. Maybe he wanted to talk to you because he didn’t feel comfortable with what happened yesterday. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. 

“I’m sure.” You confirmed. 

“Okay.” He stayed quiet before you felt his eyes on you for a split second. 

…

The ride to Leon’s apartment was filled with the view of Raccoon city and all its glory, and to ruin it, the most uncomfortable silence known to mankind. It was as if the both of you wanted to say something just for the sake of conversation or what not, but your brain didn’t allow you to. You don’t know what he’s thinking but you know that you felt very on edge, restless. You kept bouncing your right leg as a way to calm yourself down from your nervousness. 

“Are you okay? You keep bouncing your leg.” Leon asked you, eyeing your legs. You looked at him for a split second before you diverted your eyes to the window next to you. 

“I always do this. I can’t help it.” You sighed, just wanting to get this done and over with. Why couldn’t he just come into your lab again?

“Well if you’re nervous about how long the ride is, we’re basically here.” Leon spoke as he pulled into a parking lot in front of the apartment complexes. 

“Yay.” You cheered dryly. Leon gets out and grabs your tote bag from the backseats, then he opens the door for you to get out, you grab your tote bag from him.

Leon and you make it to his apartment. Leon's apartment boasts a modern yet cozy living room with sleek hardwood floors, a plush sectional sofa adorned with soft, neutral-toned cushions, and a glass coffee table that holds a few scattered magazines and a remote control. A large flat-screen TV is mounted on the wall, flanked by minimalist bookshelves filled with an eclectic mix of novels and memorabilia from his police academy days. The adjoining kitchen is a chef's dream, featuring stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and ample cabinet space. A stylish breakfast bar with high stools provides the perfect spot for quick meals or casual conversations. Large windows in both spaces allow natural light to flood the apartment, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere that offers a peaceful retreat from the chaos outside.

“You have a lovely apartment.” You say as you take off your shoes and place them by the door. 

“Thanks. You can take a seat on the sofa over there, I’ll grab you a glass of water.” You do as he says as he makes it to the kitchen and you take a seat on the sofa, plopping down as it is so cozy it is practically sinking you in. 

Leon comes back with two glasses of water and places them on the coffee table in front of you before sitting right next to you. Great. Now the both of you were sitting in the same, uncomfortable silence once again, but this time you were in his territory. Your legs are squeezed together and you’re twiddling your thumbs in your hands. Meanwhile, Leon leaned back on the sofa, his arms on top of it, manspreading as he looked away from you. 

“So…” You started, your leg starting to shake again, your eyes are trying their best not to give Leon any attention. “What do you wanna talk about?” You sighed, closing your eyes. 

“I wanted to talk about yesterday… if you don’t mind.” 

“Ah. Right. Yesterday.” Your heart dropped to the pits of your stomach. You bit your lip harsh, trying to bite yourself back to reality but you already were. “I’m sorry for taking advantage of you like that-”

“No. No. You didn’t take advantage of me, I was still mentally conscious from the pill.” Leon confessed, his cheeks now tinted with pink and so was his ears. It seemed as if he was quite skittish himself and you could tell from his body language that his statement was hard to admit. It’s almost as if he’s liked you this whole entire time… or was it lust?

“Really?” Your voice cracked as you automatically turned your head to look at him. 

“Yeah…” He nodded. Your eyes widened.

“I beg your pardon?” You commanded.

“What I mean to say is… I really enjoyed yesterday.” Leon said as he sat up, legs still spread apart and now he was playing with his hands. “I was wondering if you wanted… to… you know… do that again or to build a relationship of some sort where we could-”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend? Or do you just want to have casual sex?” When you asked those questions, Leon gazed at you, there was a hidden glint of bawdy wants in those beautiful baby blue eyes of his. Slowly, he leaned closer to you, making your body automatically back because of a sudden action, but his hand squeezed your thigh, tightly. 

“That, I’m still trying to figure out. We can figure that out after this.” With that, he takes his time to connect his lips with yours, and you don’t fight back. Instead, you kiss him back, eyes closed, experimenting with his touch– just like how you did yesterday. Your lips were locked with him in a fight to see who was to give up first. It didn’t seem like he was going to give up from the way he moaned when your tongue licked his lips, asking permission to enter, from the way they gladly let you in. It didn’t seem like you wanted to give up either, from the way you moved your hand to his side to prop yourself on his lap and straddle him all while still making out with him. 

You don’t know how much time has passed after this, all you know is that you weren’t about to let this moment slip right pass your fingers when everything you’ve ever wanted in a man is below you, between your legs, engulfed in your touch, and you were about to manifest this feeling between you two into existence.

You didn’t want to stop, you didn’t want to give up, you wanted more. You were hungry and you weren’t going to be satisfied until you consumed all of him, or if he consumed you. It didn’t matter at this point. 

The sound of your groans and Leon’s moans filled up the apartment. It was as if nothing else mattered. 

“Leon…” You moaned, grabbing a fistful of his hair continuing to grind into his crotch, begging to get something out of this, still kissing him. You could feel how badly he wanted this with no drug affecting him. He was hard, very hard. Hard to the point it felt as if his cock wanted to rip his pants open. 

“I wanna fuck you so bad.” Leon muttered quickly he moved the kisses from your lips to your neck. His hands slid down to your backside, giving you a nice squeeze that made you whimper. 

“Do you have a condom?” You asked, sliding your hands down to his pants, quicking, undoing his belt, taking it off and throwing it to the floor behind you, you proceeded to pull his pants down far enough to where you can see his boxers completely and the print of his large cock.

“I don’t…” He pulled away, giving you an innocent look on his face. Poor boy, how do you want sex but you don’t come prepared?

“That’s fine.” You sighed, pulling a condom out of your lab coat pocket before taking your coat off and throwing it to the ground. “Lean back.” You told Leon, and he followed the order. What a sight to see; your crush sitting directly beneath you, his handsome face all flushed and sweaty from what you did to him, and his uniform disheveled all over his body. Your hands went to his boxers, an area of them were soaked with precum due to how excited he was. You pulled his boxers down to reveal his shaft and your face heated up with quick speed. To say he was big was an understatement. 

‘He’s just watching me prep… is he still nervous?’ You thought to yourself as you ripped open the condom packaging, throwing it onto the ground before putting the condom onto his erect cock. 

“Come on, miss…” Leon begged, staring at you with such neediness. “Just fuck me.” 

“Patience.” 

And with that, you answered his pleas. 

[palmtreesx3]

Deeper for You

Summary: (5.1 k) It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.

This is self indulgence at its finest. Fresh off my last week at the beach this summer, I needed a little Beach Steve in my life to tide me over.

Steve x Reader, NSFW 18+ Accidental exposure, friends to lovers, breast play, female oral, fingering, dirty talk encouraged, a little orgasm denial, maybe a spank and unprotected intercourse in the shower.

Crystal water. Crystal skies. Beach chairs circled around umbrellas and coolers. Crisp beers slipped in aging koozies and passed around like old times. You and your friends have been doing this for years. Ever since goals and lives and even some wives have taken the group here and there, Nancy started organizing this annual beach trip for the group from Hawkins. Years and miles have nothing on deep seeded trauma, she said once, in a too cheerful voice despite it's truth.

The heat of the sand between your toes and the smell of suntan lotion have become a comfort to you, just knowing you're back there with your closest friends. As you all creep closer to thirty than you'd like, this week never fails to make you feel nostalgic, youthful and forget all of your problems because it never feels like an ounce of time has passed with any of these people.

This year Nancy had to upgrade the rental - more rooms for yet another married couple in the mix, Eddie adding a wife - a little too sweet but just enough sass for him - into the fold. It was your first time meeting her, really meeting her, because no bride has the time for new friendship on their wedding weekend, and you've had such a nice week spending time with her. Chairs in the sand by the waterline together with a book most afternoons, leaving the raucous energy that comes after some morning beers as background noise to your fantasies.

"What are you two ladies reading over here anyway" Steve pokes at your shoulder on his way down to the water to cool off.

"They're fantasy novels, Steve. Naughty books, if you must know." You tease back, Eddies wife blushing beside you at your brazen honestly.

"Naughty books? Like love stories where they kiss and share a bed?"

"No Steve, like '... And then she felt the tips of his finger circle her clit before toying with her folds and the wetness pooling between her thighs. Edging her, pulling her closer but never giving her cunt what she really wants'" you read in an exaggerated and breathy voice direct from your page, picking up right where you left off. "That, Steve, is Naughty Books. "

"Shit. Okay. Well I'll leave you two to it, then. What the fuck." and he trots off into the waves. Sunkissed skin a perfect contrast to the white, foaming waves he's now floating in.

"So, that… you guys have a thing before or something?" Eddie's wife asks softly. So sweet, you can't even be mad at her for it.

"Steve?" You laugh, "No-no no. Just go way back "

"Oh I'm so sorry" she squeaks out, "I just thought… I mean you guys. Nevermind."

"Don't worry about it. We're all a little too close for comfort sometimes. I get it. We just have always gave each other shit as long as I've known him, that's all."

Later that night, the whole group gathers in the back of the house around a huge built in fire pit, all taking turns sharing, giving updates about life and work and families.

Late nights have been happening all week around this pit, but tonight is cool, and the Sangria Robin and Max mixed up is keeping you chilled.

"Hey, honey. You finally quit or do you want to join us over here?" Steve calls over to you, beckoning to the group of smokers over on the bench seat to the left of the fire.

"Every time I try… someone like you offers me a smoke and here I am again." You shrug as you lean over to snag the pack of cigarettes from Steve's outstretched hand before taking a seat. You slide out a slim cigarette and pull the lighter from it's spot in the back, lighting up and passing it back, kicking your feet out on the coffee table in front.

"Someone like Steve, what's that supposed to mean? You hurling insults again?" Johnathan teases.

"No, no. Byers, shut the fuck up. Lemme enjoy this sweet nicotine with my friends in peace, okay?" You roll your eyes, not actually knowing what you meant either, before shooting a look at Max sitting with the group. "Since when did you sit on the smokers bench? Huh?"

"Don't start with me mom. You've tried to quit four times a year for the past 10 years, so I don't even wanna hear it from you." The redhead sasses back.

Such a beautiful, self assured young women she's grown into, despite having such poor eyesight from…everything that happened…you have always had a soft spot for Max, and she for you. The glasses she wears are thick, despite years of corrective surgeries, but they don't take an ounce away from how lovely she's grown to be.

"Yeah yeah, just shut up and enjoy it. I bet Lucas hates it. Doesn't he? Goodie two shoes." You quip back and Max giggles in agreement, both of you taking a long drag as a follow up.

"You two man-eaters are trouble." Steve jabs.

"Excuse me, man-eaters? The one who has been dating the same guy since middle school and me, who goes on what, maybe 4 dates all year? Yeah total man-eaters, Steve."

After finishing your smokes, you all rejoin the group, playing dollar games of cards and dice, laughing the night away at bad luck and bad jokes. El has been banished to watching over participating and when Eddie's wife asks why, the mutters and mumbling of a wide variety of excuses poured out.

"It's uh - against her religion!" straight from Dustin's mouth won out, mostly because it was the loudest. So now you're all pretending El is Muslim, and that's definitely not going to last the rest of the week.

It's nearing two am as you pad up the stairs, pockets 10 dollars deeper, sand still clinging to your feet just barely and Steve's button up on your shoulders from when he passed it to you to quell your chill. Just like every other night of the trip, you sleep like a baby, tucked in a soft mattress with softer sheets and the blanket of a decent buzz still coursing through your bloodstream.

The next day is the last on the shore and after a late start and breakfast cooked up by Nancy and Johnathan to sop up the hangovers the day goes on much like the rest before it. Relaxing in beach chairs and blankets, music softly humming from a boom box in the shade of the umbrella, balls being tossed in a friendly game of touch football in the loose sand by the dunes.

The tide was rough today and swept you and Eddie's girl away on your chairs once before you slipped your books back in your beach bag and decided if you can't beat it, join it. Frolicking in the waves together, the rest of the group is shortly behind you joining in.

It's not five minutes until Eddie is tackling his wife into the crashing waves, rolling her dramatically in the lapping waves and sand. Max and El are jumping through crashing waves, hand in hand trying to make it past the crest and to where it is calm. Some of the boys are sitting in the sand watching and enjoying the cool breeze you catch when you're closer to the sea.

You, well, you were enjoying yourself wholeheartedly. That is until you're making your way back to shore and a huge wave creeps up behind you and slams you to the ground. Water currents tossing you around a bit like a ragdoll, it's a moment before strong arms pull you up and out, wiping your hair out of your face and brushing the wet globs of sand off you as you regroup. It's Steve who's got you and brings you back to shore, where you flop down on the sand together and burst out in laughter after you're both sure that you're alright, making it even harder to catch your breath.

The day at the beach was way more sandy than usual because of it all, sitting in the sand, being thrown around by gritty waves and soupy sand finding it's way intermingling with your bathing suit. You just can't wait till the end of the day to shower and hose off, so you dip away to hop in the rinse shower along the side of the property. Door swung shut, you run the water cold so it's as refreshing as it is a welcome rinse to your body where the sand is sticking and scratches.

Hair slicked back by the cool droplets, you're realizing quickly that a simple rinse won't rid your swimsuit of all of the caked in sand. Maneuvering your emerald green one piece to shake free the grit of the ocean, you're making progress as you drop your wide set straps off your shoulders and start working out the sand from your upper half.

It's just then that Steve must have had the same idea, and he's traipsing through the door of the shower himself, only to find you, strap down, left breast fully exposed, tan lines of your right crisp and leaving nothing to the imagination the way the suit is bunching down, and your hands coaxing the water over them from the low pressure showerhead to work off the sand.

"Holy fuck!" You both yell at the same time.

Yours an exclamation. A "Holy FUCK!" A barked out reaction to the surprise. The admonishment of your friend who doesn't seem to pay a goddamn mind to anything going on around him or he would have heard the shower tap on and running when he approached.

But his… Well, his was a statement. A "Holy. Fuck." Drawn out. A deep and gravely comment made to acknowledge the surprise he's found. More of an interest than an intrusion.

So when you reached to cover yourself and hide from embarrassment as a knee jerk reaction, he didn't make quite as quick a move to leave you be. He lingered, just enough for you to notice and under his breath whispered out again "Holy fuck."

Adequately covered, or at least enough that you can feel functional at this point, you look at him to quip "Are you just gonna stare or what?" And you expect him to snap out of his titty haze and leave you be to shake out the rest of your sand trap, but he doesn't.

Instead he asks, "Well, is that an invitation?"

Your eyes narrow at him, and he shrugs in reaction. "You can't be serious, Steve. Get outta here."

"I save you, and this is the thanks I get?" He teases, and you can't help but see how his eyes, blown out and black, don't move from your body when he says it.

"Steve." You say, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I can thank you later." comes out just above a whisper.

"I think I'd rather you thanked me now."

When you don't argue back, or say anything for that matter, he takes that as enough of an answer as he needs. He knows you, and he knows that you have no problem telling someone to take a hike, so if you're not yelling at him like he's a small boy who got his hand caught in the cookie jar, he knows you're inviting him to take a bite.

So he's inside the shower quicker than your mind can even catch up to what's happening. He's crowding your space and reaching backwards to do the one thing you forgot to do yourself, hook the damn lock. You're pretty sure this man hasn't moved his eyes from you since the moment the door opened and at this point, you're meeting his gaze.

A sweeping hand, under your ear and landing on the nape of your neck is what shakes you out of your daze and before you know it his lips are on yours. It's a bruising thing, the way he presses them into yours, pulling you closer still by where his hand is cupping your head with his broad hand. You come up for air just a second before he backs off and you find yourself, open mouthed and smiling into his lips, still pressing into you. "Fuck. Honey. I- you okay? With this? I don't wanna… "

"I know I tell you this all the time, but this is different. Steve, you fuckin talk too much. Shut. Up." You say, emphasizing your words with two little tugs to his own hair where your hands have snaked around, too.

And he takes this welcome advance as an opportunity to wrap his other hand around you, up and under your arm, resting at the center of your back. Pressing together, you're so close. Impossibly so, and every little tick of the hip or twitch of the lips can be felt by the other instantaneously. He's testing you out but getting bolder by the second when he experimentally rolls his hips just a bit before coaxing your legs a bit wider to slot his knee in between. You gasp out at the feeling of him against you and involuntarily find yourself rolling your cunt against his thigh.

"Ah-oh fuck. Shit. Steve." You squeak out, as you look down to see that he's tucked up his swim shorts high enough that your grinding on his exposed thigh. Bristly hair on his legs commingling with the scratch of the sand and sea salt on your own thighs.

"C'mon, honey. You came in here to get clean. Me too. Lemme help you, yeah? '

Nodding your permission, he gently slips his fingers under the still loose straps of your suit, coaxing them down further, fingers ghosting over your arms as he works them down.

You've been doing this trip for years, and you swear the last thing you ever thought would happen was having Steve fucking Harrington peeling off your wet swimsuit in the shower. "You sandy all over, huh? Me too. Gotta rinse you off." he says, as he's reaching up for the shower head, detaching it from its base and bringing it down in between the two of your chests. Holding it there for a moment, he seems to consider this whole thing for the first time. "You-your good, right? I mean, I trust you. Do you trust me? "

"Yeah Steve, I do." You say, pressing your forehead to his and blinking away droplets gathering on your eyelashes.

He pulls the rest of your swimsuit away from where it's suctioned on your tummy and works it down your body, dropping heavy and wet on the shower floor. Once it's out of his way, he's back on your lips, sucking in your bottom lip just as you feel the cool water hitting your clit. Steve moves the shower head gently but purposely around your whole cunt, paying attention to your sensitive bud between passes through your folds. "Gotta get you cleaned up, huh? Need you clean for me. For what I'm gonna do next." He teases and you moan at his words.

Not exactly sure what he has planned just yet, you let him keep working your pussy clean and with every second of the pulsing jets of water hitting your clit rhythmically. "Yeah, baby I think you're all set." He states, replacing the shower head where it belongs and reaching his free hand down to rub through your folds, checking to be sure you're comfortable and free of that pesky sand.

When he's met with yet another whimper he's immediately dropping to his knees on the wet planks of the shower floor "Can I please, please taste you. Please."

"I didn't take you as one to beg, Harrington." You whisper out the tease.

"I will for this - for you. God, would you just answer me?"

You look down at him and nod but he wants your words instead, commanding you to speak up. And so you do, you gasp out confirmation just as his lips latch on to your already sensitive clit. He suckles there a little bit, before moving to make his tongue wide and flat coaxing noises from you that he doesn't want to forget the sound of.

He throws your thigh over his shoulder, giving him deeper, more angled access to your cunt, working you, moving it in and left to right. You cry out as his nose nudges at your clit while he slips a finger in up to his second knuckle and the cry turns silent as he keeps up his ministrations. Droplets of water are tickling down your chest and stomach, soaking his hair and face where he stays tucked in between your thighs. He shakes his head back and forth tapping at your clit with his movement and making you see stars.

Adding in another finger, he keeps lapping at your pussy, taking breaks to nip at the place where your thighs meet your sex and back again. He licks off a trail of water along the seam of your leg before making his way back to your center. Scissoring his fingers, he groans right into you and the vibration of it all drives you wild. "God, you fuckin taste like heaven. So good." And he dives back in, running his wide tongue along your entrance, drawing it front and upward toward your clit.

This time he pauses and presses his tongue up into the base of your clit, holding it there just as he presses both long fingers up and into your spongy spot, freeing the most wanton sound yet from deep within your throat. It spurs him on to keep going, pulsing that tongue and stroking that spot within. You're tensing and shaking under his strong grip and soft tongue, leg still hiked high over him, water cascading around the both of you. You're tumbling over the edge quickly after that.

In a bit of a daze and with wobbly knees, you swing your leg back down off his shoulder and bring him up towards you by his ears, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue in ways you never have before, and he looks beautiful like that. Eyes wide and wanton, hair dripping wet down his hair spattered chest, jaw slack in his own lust and pleasure, lips a deep pink and swollen from working you up down there. You bring him up fully to meet your lips and groan into his mouth, your taste heady and salty and beachy.

"I think you're clean" he laughs out as he pulls back just slightly and you can't help but bark out a laugh back. He takes the opportunity to latch on to your neck and bites at the skin under your ear.

In that moment you decide you're not done with him.

Tugging at the ties of his swim trunks, Steve pulls back to look at you. "N-no, we don't have to."

You hear his words but you also feel the hardness underneath those trunks, "Steve, it's - it's no big deal. You started this. Let me… let's finish, yeah?" You eye him teasingly, eyebrows raised, "Something tells me you want to."

"You're a menace, you know that right? Always have been."

"Yeah, but you're into it, apparently." you stand on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"Fuck. Fuck. Yeah." He gets out as you lick the water droplets up "Seeing you here every year. Highlight of my trip. Swear to God."

And as his soaked trunks hit the floor, the pair of you are both fully exposed standing under the running water together. Running your hand along his chest, playing with the tufts of hair there, you hook your finger though the thin chain hanging from his neck and pull him closer. "Steve." You whisper into his mouth.

"Yeah, whaddya need, honey?"

"You. God just, please fuck me. Okay?"

Clutching you close by the waist, he hikes your leg up and around his hip, reaching down along your ass to rub at your pussy from behind, working you up again. Almost teasing. The rock hard length of him is pressed up between your two tummies, begging to be paid attention to, so you break your bodies apart for just a second to angle him down, slipping if wetly between your lower lips - a mix of water and your hot dripping slick letting him slip through your folds.

A whimper slips out of your lips as his head catches your clit and he takes the opportunity to press into you, sounds something like a growl falling from his own lips at the feeling. Your mind is going blank, but the one thing you're sure of is that Steve Harrington's dick is huge. "Ohmigod, you're, bi- oh" you moan as he adds another few inches, moving slowly for you. "Fuck, you're huge. Jesus, Steve."

"Yeah? Biggest you ever had? God, tell me it's the biggest you've ever took."

"Shit" you hiss, as he bottoms out inside you, yelping out as you both finally meet at the base. "Yeah, shit. No one's ever been that fuckin deep, Steve. Holy shit."

"Fuck, yeah. I'm gonna move now, okay? You're good, right?" And you nod, enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically.

You've known Steve almost your whole life. You've played on playground swing sets growing up, rolled your eyes at his antics at your friends' parties in high school, cheered him on at basketball games and worked alongside him as lifeguards at the country club pool. You give him shit, he gives it back to you. You share comfortable silences and close friends. He's had your back in the face of monsters and raging fires… But right now, all that's on your mind is how he's pounding into your pussy in this shower and why this has never ever happened before in all these years. Because Jesus Christ, it's feeling euphoric.

The slapping of skin echoes loudly in the wooden and metal enclosure of the shower, bodies slick with water , hands gliding along your back and along your ass, keeping that knee hiked high for him, yours clutching the front of his shoulders and digging crescent moons into his skin. He's making noises, has he thrusts up into you at a bruising pace, hitting your cervix and making you cry out…but he's holding back all the same and all you want is him to let go a little more.

"Fuck, wait. Holy shit. Lemme just… " you drop your leg down and hear his small whine as he slips out of you, but you're quick to flip your body around, leaning forward and bracing yourself on the beams of the wooden door frame, shaking your ass at him in an invitation to get close to you again. "Wait. Wait… " you gasp out as you feel his tip nudge against your entrance from behind.

"What's wrong? Are you .. are you okay? I can stop." He gets out through heaving breaths.

"No. I'm good… but if you wanna finish me off, you gotta do one thing for me." Looking over your shoulder, giving him a playful but serious look.

"What'dya need. Honey. Anything. What do you want?" He holds his cock, pulsing and screaming to be let back inside your warm and velvety walls, dots of precome rinsed off by the droplets of water as fast as they emerge.

"Don't hold back. Just… .let me hear you. I wanna hear you. Talk to me. Don't shut up. And fuck - fuck me harder" you hiccup out.

"Yeah, yeah okay. I'll … I'll - fuck" he pushes in fully in one slide, no resistance from you in the least. "You wanna hear how good you make me feel huh? Always so cocky. Jesus."

His fingers are pressing into the tops of your thighs, purple mottled marks already blooming there under his fingertips as he pulls you backwards, spearing you on his cock, meeting him thrust for thrust. His other hand is wrapped around your waist, reaching for the soft of your belly, snaking up your chest until he finds your tits, nipples peaked with the chill of the air now that you're not directly under the stream of water. He runs his thumb along your nipples, giving them a playful flick back and forth before massaging them and pulling you up to meet him, back to chest.

In this position, you can drop yourself down as you meet his upward thrusts, bouncing on his cock and you feel his tip nudging a particular spot inside you that makes your walls constrict. "Oh honey, yeah? That's it. That's the spot isn't it?" And you can tell that has Steve's mind going off the deep end, making good on his promises to let you hear him, he's babbling, water splashing and raining down on you both, his grunts getting louder, and your name slipping off his lips in a whisper, like it belongs there.

Reaching back and around his neck, you turn so that you can see him and tilt his down to meet your gaze. Mouths both open, panting into one another, lips touching but never connecting because you can't quite sync up with the way you're both grinding on each other. "Jesus Christ, hnng fuck, I'm gonna… honey. Where do you want me? C'mon. Tell me."

You hear his sharp intake of a breath and feel his lips latch on to your throat, leaving sloppy kisses and sucking a bruise into it that you know you'll have to explain to your friends later. "Nnn-no. No. Not yet. I told you, lemme hear you. You're holding back I can tell."

"Oh-okay yeah. Gimme a sec. " He breathes through his nose taking in the scent of whatever vanilla soap you were using before he barreled in, maybe a little coconut still left over from your sunscreen, too. He exhales as his hand drifts down your front, settling over your mound and expertly finding your clit once again. He's rubbing figure eights, before sliding it between his two fingers, giving it pressure and pull from the sides as he continues to thrust into you from behind, bouncing you with very little effort because of how wet and slick you are from the shower.

"You're a fuckin' piece of work, you know that. Shit - taking me like this… fuck. " He growls out as he bends you forward fully now, holding you up by your chest as he rams into you. Leaning over just enough to get close to your ear he whispers in "Ya gonna let me come now? Fuck - ya gonna let me put it on your back? Huh? Your tits? Where do you wanna have it, honey?" He hisses as you grind your hips backwards and clench down hard on his shaft, squeezing on him and making his thrusts slow down, become more meticulous, more purposeful.

You're gasping in air and squeaking out noises of all kinds in time with his thrusts, telling him just how good he's making you feel between breaths. Just how deep he is hitting you. Just how much you wanna hear him when he comes. He's huffing out breaths and promising you things like next time as he's incoherently babbling praises at you as you ride back on his dick.

"You like when I talk about coming for you? You wanna have it, yeah?"

"Y-yeah I wanna. Inside. Do it inside, fuck!" You shout out, water from the showerhead beating on your back as his thrusts are jolting you forward where you're braced against the door. The janky little rusted metal latch holding on for dear life as he continues his pace, chasing his high and praying to God you let go with him.

He's feeling bold now that his brain is only chasing your orgasms. He groans the loudest moan you've heard from him this whole time as you feel him tense behind you, keeping up his movements but, just barely. His hips are stuttering and his hand falls down on your ass in a loud smack. "Ohhh shit. Honey. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about."

Your walls give him one last squeeze and you grip him tight, legs shaking under you as your orgasms rushes over your whole body. He has to hold you up as it rolls through your body, flashes going off behind your eyes as you cry out with pleasure. The pain from the smack to your ass being washed away with the cool of the water trickling over you.

It takes him only three firm thrusts more to fill you up, stuttering sounds falling from his lips. Incoherent blabbers and praises and gasps of your name spurting out along with his come.

You're both absolutely breathless, heaving chests and deep sighs filling the air while still connected to one another. Steve pulls you up slowly as he slips out of you, and spins you around. Still cradling your body and wrapping you into him, he pulls you both under the water to rinse off and come back down from wherever you both are floating off to right now. As you stand there swaying under the cascade, he brings his lips to your temple with a kiss as he mutters "I did mean it. I love seeing you here every year."

You hum along with him, because you do love seeing him too. You just never thought about it like this before. And now that you have, you're pretty sure it's the only way you can from here on out.

"We should probably get back down to the beach. I'm sure at least one of those nosey dipshits have noticed were both missing by now." Steve says against your skin.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. But you are the one explaining these marks you left on me. I'm not saying a peep."

"Aw, c'mon sweetheart. You had a lot to say when I was in-"

"Stop that right now. If you wanna even think about doing this again, you're gonna stop right now." You roll your eyes at him while wrapping yourself with a towel and unlatching the door. As you back out and start up towards the house to grab a new swimsuit, he sees the grin on your face.

"Yeah, okay honey. Shutting my mouth now...so I'll definitely see ya later, then." He says with a wink, just as the door shuts and your left naked, wrapped up in Steve Harrington's towel with all your friends gathered round the grill out back making lunch watching you as you make your way around the path.

Eddie snarls a wide grin at you as he brings both thumbs up, his wife slapping his chest when she notices. "Hey Nance!" He yells out. "I think Harrington's got himself a new roommate for next trip!"

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.  

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body. 

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media. 

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings. 

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer.  Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy. 

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable. 

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform. 

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes. 

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that  had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality. 

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine. 

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him. 

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

[thecordelialetters]

She's my Angel: Meet the Family Pt.2 I Five Hargreeves x Reader

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Post Apocalypse Au! pt.1 Pt2 Pt3

WC: ~2,709

Warnings/Tags: fluff, Allusions to sex, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma

Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers.

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Five and you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm that one would think the two of you had known each other for years. You started sleeping in the same bed together, getting ready together, eating together, and spending time together. Your routine had started to fall into place.

Somedays Five would ask you to show him your abilities. He was always astounded at how powerful you were. You could use shadows to teleport, physically manifest, store objects, and create weapons. To the regular person, or to anyone like his deceased father, these powers would intimidate them, scare them. But Five wasn’t scared of you,. Slowly you had become his Angel. Five found comfort in you, someone who would stick with him while his family scattered after his sacrifices.

“Come on Angel, I’m taking you out today.”

“Out?” You tilted your head.

“Yes like…a date” he blushed. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and black slacks, the shirt was pressed clean with no wrinkles, and the top 3 buttons were undone.

“Go put on your prettiest dress and some nice shoes.” He kissed the top of your head and watched you run off. Anyone who could see the two of you could see his adoration for you. You lived up to your nickname being a small beacon of light in his dark mind.

Despite your growing "relationship" Five still had his worries. It had been 2 weeks since he met you and he wasn’t any closer to finding who had taken you or figuring out your true identity. He had only know a few things from what you told him.

You had grown up in a lab isolated from everyone. The only way of understanding the outside world was through tv and books that a kind doctor had let you before he met an unfortunate end, not that you knew about that. He also learned about the environment you grew up in by your reactions. You hated loud noises, didn’t understand cultural norms, and feared violence and abuse. Knowing this, Five learned to adjust to your needs. He wanted to take care of you and help you. You had become his new family. Maybe it was obsession but it was feeling like love.

You came bouncing down the steps of the academy in a light blue dress with puffy sleeves and a soft ballerina like skirt. The neckline was square and above your cleavage was a gold heart necklace that Five had bought you on your last outing to the mall.

“Beautiful?” You looked at him and twirled.

“Very beautiful amore.” He kissed your cheek and led you out. As the two of you were about to leave the door opened revealing Viktor.

Viktor was in town having just gotten back from a trip to Italy and decided to stop by the academy.

“Oh Five! Who’s this? I came to check on you since you didn’t answer any of my calls.”

Oops well he wasn’t wrong. Five had ignored all Vitkors calls. It wasn’t out of spite it just felt like every-time he talked to his family he had to put on a front. He didn’t need therapy, didn’t want help, and was fine without them. But talking to them felt almost condescending and a very small part of him still harbored a grudge for them all leaving.

“Uh this is Angel. Klaus brought here and left her here so I’ve been taking care of her. We were just about to go out.”

“Angel!” You pointed to yourself.

“Viktor… Five’s family?”

Five sighed when he looked at you. So innocent , unaware to the trauma in his heart. “Yes this is my brother.”

“Brother.” You tested the word out loud.

“Brother!” You pointed to Five.

“No no not I’m not your brother.” Five shot down. He could see the tears in your eyes forming. “I’m sorry Angel, yes we are… family but I am not your brother okay? I’m your friend.”

Your eyes lit up at that notion. You were aware of what friendship was, there was a nice doctor in the facility who had befriended you and taught you all you knew about human interaction until… he met an unfortunate end, not that you knew about that though.

You jumped into Five wrapping your arms around his neck and burrowing your face in his shoulder.

Brown eyes made contact with green and Five felt uneasy in his brother's judgmental gaze. Before Viktor could get out another word Five blinked the two of you to the car. Standing in the doorway Viktor turned to look back at you guys. He was happy his brother had found someone, but you seemed off. He walked into the parlor and whipped out his phone to send a text to the family group chat. Viktor: Did you know Five got a girlfriend? He said Klaus brought her one day and left her. They just went out all dressed up. Allison: No way Diego: Finally that old timer can get some Lila: Who would let that little gremlin near them? Viktor: @Klaus how did you meet Angel. Klaus: On the street. Everyone mentally cringed at the thought of Klaus picking up a girl "off the street" Klaus: She ran into me and was in bad shape, She's super cute though! I knew she and little Five would get along, I'm going to go visit them tonight. Allison: I want to see her! Im coming too Diego: Me and Lila are coming too. Luther: I guess I'm coming as well. Viktor closed out his phone and began walking around the academy. It hadn't been too long since the world was almost destroyed but this place was riddled with mixed memories of sadness but also happiness in which he and his family had finally come together.

His eyes ran over the painting of Five above the mantle. Over his travels, he often thought about Five, but not at first. Initially, he was overjoyed with traveling, meeting people, and developing a few relationships, but his thoughts began to wander back to Five. The boy who had leaped across time, and had worked his ass off to get back to his family only for them to all leave again. It made him feel guilty every time he talked to Five over the phone only to get short responses. His thoughts went back to reminiscing. Five and Vitkor were closest when they were younger, Viktor even remembers the small crush he had on the boy as a kid. Five was cocky, arrogant, and thought to be better than everyone. But the way he looked at Angel had a softness that could rival a field of flowers. The fact he had let her touch him had given Viktor enough information to assume that you had helped Five for the better. ————————-On your date———————— Five had taken you first to a cute little dinner a bit out of the city. You two sat in a booth on the same side. He was a little confused when you sat next to him but decided against saying anything when you grabbed his hand under the table. The waiter came to take your orders, his name was Alek. He looked at you mostly with a predatory glint in his eyes. "What can I get for the pretty lady here?" He winked at you. You laughed and blushed before saying "Pasta!" Pasta was a favorite of yours. Five and you had made pasta together from scratch one night and it was one of your favorite moments with him. You remembered making the sauce together, him flicking some onto your face before kissing it off with his lips. He had looked so good kneading the dough and showing you how to make the sauce and noodles. It ended happily with you in his bed. Five also knew this was your favorite dish and why. It only made his heart beat for you more. Breaking the waiter's attention off you Five stood up and pushed Aleks chest back. "And I'll have the steak, rare I like it a little bloody, and bring us back a milkshake to share, strawberry." Five sat back while glaring at the waiter. Who did this guy even think he was anyway, he literally saw Five walk in with you. Before he could think anything else, his attention was pulled away when your hand traced his jaw.

"Prickly. Ouch." You ran your finger back and forth over his cheek. Five had been growing some facial hair recently.

"What princess? You don't like?" Five rubbed his face against yours while listening to the melodic laughter erupt from your lips. Alek came back with your meals and milkshake avoiding eye contact with you and Five. Excited for your food you kissed Five's cheek as a way to thank him. The two of you ate your food in comfortable silence and shared the milkshake, occasionally laughing when both of you reached for the straw at the same time.

————————-After your date————————

You and Five had left the dinner with full bellies and even fuller hearts. Hand in hand he led you to the street. "let's talk a walk, we need to digest all that food and I know a park nearby that you'll enjoy." "Okay!" you agreed. You had begun to trust Five with... everything in this short time. He cared for you and showed you how to cook, clean, and use a phone. You were growing to love him, not that you knew what love was. As the two of you came closer to the park your eyes lit up seeing the families and children running around and enjoying the warm summer day. Your expression made Five's heart beat faster. Your innocence and kindness were a nice contrast to his years of killings and suffering. Five led the two of you to a bench that looked out to the grassy playground. You leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sign. You finally felt at peace. No electric chair, no pointy syringes, just the warmth of Five's hand in yours and the smell of his cologne. Five looked down at you staring out into the park. He felt lucky, how could someone like you just fall into his lap when he needed it most. A thought crossed his mind, what would happen if you remembered who you were, would you leave him? The last time he was in a relationship was with a mannequin. But this was different, you needed him just as much as he needed you. He pushed those thoughts aside when he watched your eyes close. He nudged your side "Come on Angel its been a long day lets get you home." Lazily you both stood up and walked back to the car not dare letting go of each others hands.

————————-At the Academy————————

Five was on high alert as the two of you arrived back at the Academy. The lights were on in the den and he could hear hushed voices as he approached. Opening the door he was met with 3 people, backs turned towards him. He instantly recognized these figures as his siblings, Diego, Luther, and Allison. Peaking around them he saw three more, Viktor, Klaus, and Lila. "Well, this is an unexpected visit," Five stated breaking the uncomfortable silence. The trio looked at each other before Allison spoke up. "We wanted to check up on you, we haven't heard from you in a while." She looked at you behind Five, "Is this uh your girlfriend?" Five's eyes narrowed at Viktor in the corner before sighing. "She's not my girlfriend, this is Angel, I've been taking care of her since Klaus brought her here."

"I'm not Five's friend." You looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes. "No, shit I'm sorry Angel, yes you are my friend you are more than my friend." His expression softened when you wrapped his arms around his neck once again to kiss his cheek. The rest of the superpowered bunch looked in awe. Their normally cocky and arrogant brother hadn't snapped at you or yelled at you. He was gentle and reassuring. Lila was the one to speak up next to Viktor "Wow the old man finally found someone." Ignoring Lila's statement Allison continued, "Wait Klaus brought her here?" Klaus surprisingly not sober, stood up. "Yeah she ran into me all banged up so I brought her to the one place I knew could fix her up. She's got powers like us!" The family turned to you and Five once more expecting you to demonstrate. Hesitating Five looked at you "Okay Angel, show them what we have been practicing." You nodded to Five before raising your hands. In an instant, shadows rose from the ground to the ceiling of the room, suffocating any light that had been previously there. Your hands swirled causing the shadows to form a vortex. You thew your fists down bringing the shadows to your side. One arm lifted up across your chest as you threw it to the opposite area, effectively slicing a potted plant in half. Your eyes glistened with pride as you looked to Five. "I did it!" You jumped into his open arms as Five twirled you around with joy. "I knew you could do it princess!" Luther who was silent in the beginning spoke up next. "So you just found her on the street and she has powers? We don't even know her she could be dangerous then! She could be Commission!" Being number one and the head of the family was difficult for Luther. He was always overprotective of his siblings and made hasty rash decisions believing that he knew what was best for everyone. But Five remembers what happened when Viktor was discovered to have powers and he was hell-bent on not repeating it again. Five paused before turning to you and blinking you upstairs. He had tucked you in and helped you into bed before kissing the corner of your lips. "Good night darling, let me talk to my family for a bit, and I'll join you okay?" "Okay Five, good night" And with one last glance at you he blinked back downstairs. "Trust me Luther I would know if she was commission or not, when she got here she could barely talk and didn't even know her own name!" "I've spent the last 2 weeks trying to figure out where she came from. All I know is that she was brought up in a lab that focused on human experimentation to try to recreate the original 43." "You can't...You honestly can't possibly imagine, the pain she has gone through. And let's not forget what happened the last time you tried to "help" a person who had just gained their powers." Five looked over at Viktor. Viktor couldn't help but look at his lap. "Five is right, let's give her a chance. She is obviously doing well under Five's care and he cares for her back." Five looked appreciative at Viktor although he was the one who originally ratted him and you to the family. "I know you guys haven't heard from me in a while, but trust me I'm doing fine. Let's... go out for breakfast tomorrow. I know a place that we all would like. Meet back here at 9am. I'm going to check on Angel and head to bed." And with that, he disappeared in a flash of blue. The Hagreeves siblings looked at each other in shock. Never had their brother been the first to reach out to spend time, it must be important to him. Diego walked towards and grabbed Lila's hand "Well I'm happy for the guy, it was about time he got some. See you all tomorrow." He waved to his siblings and headed out. The others slowly followed suit each one of them that night laid in bed thinking about the events that had transpired and mentally prepared for a family breakfast the next day.

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Author's note: I had actually finished this before Tumblr decided to not save anything and I lost half the story T-T I was really good too. I tried to rewrite it the best I could.

Author's note: 9/14 part 3 is on its way ! Taglist: @groovydazephantom

[ssparksflyy]

percy x zeus!gf hcs pls!!! and could i request it to be more on the funny side and how percy and zeus have beef but also get along cuz of gf

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs ! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of zeus!reader warning(s): little bit of swearing an: hi! ty for requesting <3 im literally not even funny but i hope u enjoy thissss! also theres a lotta taylor in this one 🤭

BIG REPUTATION BIG REPUTATION OHHH YOU AND ME WE GOT BIG REPUTATIONS AHHH

it doesnt matter if youre a social butterfly or antisocial, everybody knew you and percy before you even started dating

so best believe when you actually got together, everybody ( literally ) cheered

but your flirting era had to be on of the most painful things to watch

seriously doesnt matter if you got game or not, percy is literally oblivious and a LOSERRRRR

im so sorry but somebody had to say it

bro had THE BIGGEST crush on you and whenever he'd try to like compliment you itd usually sound a little weird

tell me why he'd probably say something like

"i like your outfit today! that shirt for sure looks better with those jeans than it did with the shorts you wore 2 weeks ago :)"

lil creep

cue silena crying in the corner because she made a bet with beckendorf and it is NOT looking good for her right now

WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE.

you guys are iconic

like well-known power couple

I'D be scared to train with you guys cause like what do you MEAN i gotta go against the best swordsmen at camp and the daughter of the king of the gods??

no thank you, i choose life ♡

when people are asked to think of a couple, they immediately think of you guys

everybody loves you guys for real

if you ever broke up ( which you wont, percy would probably just say "no" ) itd probably leave everybody super torn

ITD BE LIKE IN GILMORE GIRLS WHEN LORELAI AND LUKE BROKE UP AND THE WHOLE TOWN LIKE TOOK SIDES

if you havent watched gilmore girls, that basically sums the situation up. lorelai is literally like the town's sweetheart and luke is the owner of the most popular diner in their small town ♡ very cutesy

so sorry for the spoiler

SALLY LOVESSS YOU

she's literally so sweet and treats you as if you were her own child

she'd definitely bake cookies when you first meet and if you liked them, you best believe you are being sent back to camp with a baggie full of cookies

cant love you as much as percy does though !!

youre literally his queen

( sorry i say literally a lot )

he treats you like royaltyyyyy

always opening doors for you, walks you everywhere, follows the sidewalk rule, everything ♡

when its raining, he picks you up bridal style and takes you wherever you need to go, so you dont get your shoes wet ♡♡

yall literally live in the rain tho

neither of you leave your cabin with an umbrella, the rain just gives you life

AND I DONT KNOW WHY BUT WITH YOU ID DANCE IN A STORM IN MY BEST DRESS FEARLESS

one time, you went out for a fancy dinner, got dressed up all nice very fancy very fancy

BUT you BOTH forgot to check the weather

and it ended up POURING rain by the time you got out of the restaurant

and i kid you not

percy just grabs you by the hand, leads you out into the rain, and begins to dance with you.

no coverage, no music, no fucks given. just him and his girl.

he treasures that moment forever and ever

all the gods looked down at you from olympus and melted

neither of you care if you're disrespecting your fathers, you spend almost every night together ♡

percy is absolutely a big cuddler

literally just adores the feeling of you close to him

oh lord save him his drug is his baby he'll be using for the rest of his life

falling asleep together is so easy, you just melt into each other's touch

waking up is what's harder

neither of you want to leave the bed, and neither of you want the other person to leave the bed either.

percy's the typa guy to just have a sweet little conversation with you before he gets up for the day

you always get a good morning ( and a good night! ), then percy asks you what's on your schedule for the day ( as if he hasn't memorized it by now ), and what you wanted for breakfast that morning

he simply cannot get up without it

he's also the type of guy to just whisper sweet nothings into your ear if he wakes up before you ♡

he just goes on a little ramble about how pretty you look when your sleeping, even though you are sleeping while he's 'talking' to you

sorry where was i?

ZEUS.

the bastrard HATES percy and percy HATES the bastard

theyve literally been beefing since he was 12 years old

so best believe when zeus found out his daughter was dating this son of poseidon??? oo he was PISSEDDD.

poseidon is literally so chill with you. like he just cares that percy is happy. seriously doesn't care about who your dad is. if anything, he already sees you as family

zeus holds back everything in him to not kill percy on the spot every time you make out

he doesn't do it because he knows you'd probably walk to the underworld to get him back and hades would go feral if he got another orpheus & eurydice

percy gives zero fucks. he flips off the sky every time he walks outside

percy is so sweet and caring and kind and shows your father such respect like hes literally an angel 😇😇

i wouldn't say that he starts like actually respecting him, but he tries not to offend him as often as usual, just for you ♡

in the scenario that you'd have to make a trip to olympus, percy and zeus put on their big boy pants and try to tolerate each other

hera dont like you or percy bro she's literally just there

its okay though, you both despise her for kidnapping percy and wiping his memory ♡♡♡

JASON AND THALIA HOWEVER

thalia would definitely be the dramatic dad that zeus cant be (in person, at least)

whenever she and the hunters stay at camp she ( jokingly ) tells percy

"jackson, i want her home by NINE PEE EM. no later. i expect you won't be drinking, and you will be TAKING CARE OF HER. in the instance that i hear you DONT, i think you'll be taking a second trip across the river styx, you hear me?"

in like an sergeant voice and everything

percy plays along with it and salutes her going "yes ma'am!"

jason thinks you are so cute together

since you were at camp when the whole switcheroo thing happened, jason knew you first, and you were instantly best buddies

you told him about percy, and once he met him, he was happy to find out he was exactly like you described him

jason and thalia are ur #1 supporters ♡

in summary, alexa play that should be me

[pricegouge]

Get Her a Dog (She'll be Happier For It)

Part One | master list | MDNI

Soap x reader, Price x reader, eventual PriceSoap x reader

series cw: cheating. dubcon. angst. cuckholding. pet play.

chapter cw: angst, pining for someone who isn't your husband

reader is fem and fat

You know where it's going. Part of you wants to tell him to fuck off, get out of your house, scream and yell and pin everything on him - for always taking your husband away or for being an impossible standard to hold him to you don't even know.

It's raining in York again, the soft tatting upon the windows your only indication. It's evening, but you've still got the blinds pulled because you couldn't be arsed to draw them. In the apartment next door, a baby cries its head off and you sigh, turning up the volume on your b-movie romcom. It cries a lot.

You don't immediately reach for your phone when it buzzes against the coffee table because you can't think of any pressing reasons someone would be contacting you tonight, but it goes off twice more in as many minutes so you relent, unlocking it without really looking. Thumbing through to your messages, you find your husband's contact photo beaming back at you, top of the list. You pause, lip twitching slightly. Johnny's supposed to be halfway across the world, his phone inaccessible to him. It should be a good thing that he's texting you - returning from a mission early could go one of two ways, but if he was well enough to text then surely you should be excited for him. Except you're not, because you know what his message will read before you even open it.

Used to be, Johnny would stumble through the door after a deployment all battered and bruised, laughing when you yelped because you weren't expecting him - wandering the house in lazy day clothes because you thought he was supposed to be away another week. He always rushed home the second he could, never wasted enough time for so much as an 'I lived' text because he couldn't bear to be away from you one more unnecessary moment.

Used to be, you two missed each other when he was away.

>having the boys over for dinner

<you're back in town?

>got in yesterday yea

>can u make that pasta dish gaz likes? owe him my life

You sigh, torn between being more annoyed by Johnny's presumption, the fact he hadn't even let you know he was alive let alone at base, and the fact that you know you should be worried after a comment like that.

Mostly, you're just too tired.

The pasta dish Kyle likes involves heavy cream which you don't currently have. There's a small shop just two streets up and you'd hate to waste the gas so despite the weather, you grab an umbrella and some boots and head out, patting yourself down for the mandatory keys, wallet, phone check. It's dreary out. In addition to the rain, the season's coming to its long, slow end and bringing with it the cold sort of damp that soaks into everything, the whole world seemingly saturated with the miserable chill. Normally, this is your favorite kind of weather, but lately you've been too dreary yourself to properly enjoy it. So you amble along, unfocused. Unappreciative. Foggy. 

Identical brick houses line either side of the street, stretching out around the bends in either direction. The winding of the road lends a claustrophobic feel to the entire city, population density driving houses tall enough to obscure the movement of the sun throughout the day. 

It wasn't a bad place all told, but Johnny had chosen it for its proximity to base back when he was still just a young recruit and it had never really felt like your home. There'd been promises, back when the two of you were still engaged, ones you should've known better than to hold him to. Dreams of a house in the country, or talks of moving you out to Scotland. You hadn't been lying when you'd told him you didn't need any of that, but you'd never expected him to interpret that as you being content to live in the same dingy building the rest of your lives. It wasn't really your place to complain about it, though, given it was Johnny's income that paid the bills. You worked as well, though mostly just to keep yourself busy, as Johnny had insisted on your being a stay at home mom for the first few years of your babies' childhood. You weren't sure why you didn't find something more stimulating now, given how many years had come and gone without the man committing to the prospect of children. 

It used to hurt, the reneged aspirations. You've gotten used to it.

You're a regular at the shop by now, having lived in the same little apartment for the last five years. The owner greets you as you enter, the little bell above the door chiming as you close your umbrella, tapping it on the doorframe a few times to dislodge any excess droplets. 

"How are you now, Mr. Hudson?" you call, making a beeline for the kitchen staples. If there were still good things to be said about your marriage, at least you no longer cringed at convenience store pricing. 

"I'm well, yourself?" the old man croaks back politely. He's not doing well, actually, as his wife is wont to tell you anytime she's the one manning the counter, but you think it would be impolite to ask him how his prostate is out of the blue, so you don't call him on it.

Instead, you tell a lie all your own as you set your find in front of the register. "Can't complain."

"What's for dinner, then?" he asks, nodding at the carton.

"Smoked sausage alfredo." Not for the first time, you're grateful Gaz's favorite dish is consistent enough that you regularly have thawed sausage on hand. The last time Simon had saved your husband's skin in the field, Johnny had thought you'd be able to whip up a chicken dish in two hours and you'd had to run half across town for protein. 

"Mm," Mr. Hudon hums appreciatively. "Am I invited?"

"May as well be," you laugh, perhaps a little meanly given the poor man isn't in on the joke. You take mercy at his confused look. "My husband's inviting a few friends over. Wasn't expecting to cook for so many people." You weren't expecting to cook for anyone, actually, completely content to rot away with a bag of crisps but that's beside the point.

"Oh, yes… big man? With the… hair?"

"The very same," you grumble, taking your receipt.

"Haven't seen him in a while, how's he been?"

"Well, I gather he almost died recently, but I couldn't tell you much else. Haven't seen him either." The parting smile you give the old man feels rotten on your face. You bid him a good night and wave, scurrying out the door before he can properly respond. 

The sight of John standing on your stoop when you return startles you, although you should really be used to his early arrivals by now, as John tends not to linger in the company of his subordinates too long and often finds his own rides to and from base. He's also generally more eager to stop by than your husband is, though you can't think too long about that without feeling like you're going to walk off a pier. 

John greets you warmly as he always does, pulling you into a one armed hug as he kisses your cheek. With his free hand, he pulls your umbrella from your grasp, keeping you both under its protective circle as he straightens back up. 

You search your pockets for your keys, a good excuse to eye yourself over to be sure you hadn't accidentally worn something inappropriate out of the house. Like hosiery and a big graphic tee that said 'fuck me daddy' or something on it. John always brings out this paranoia in you, that same instinct that has people re-reading work emails to check for porn links four times before hitting send. But with him it's, 'Are you dressed? Is a dildo about to fall out of your shirt sleeve? Did you remember to put your wedding ring on?' 

You didn't.

"Hi John. Sorry to keep you waiting. I didn't realize anyone would be in so soon." 

"And here I thought I'd be the last to show for once," he counters, grabbing the cream from you and slipping it into the brown paper bag he carries on his hip. Something about his expression darkens minutely when he clarifies, "The boys left base a few hours ago. They still not in?"

Somehow, you don't find this as surprising as you maybe should. "No."

John hums, following after you obediently as you make your way to the lift. Normally, you try to get some exercise in by climbing the stairs, but you don't feel like huffing and puffing your way up with John in tow. Instead, the two of you pile into the small shaft where John does nothing to minimize the width of himself, standing directly by your side instead of slightly behind, squishing you between himself and the mirrored wall. You keep your eyes forward, glued to the metal doors. You can feel his eyes on you, shameless and assessing. Can even see his head turned toward you in the blurry reflection before you. He's always like this when he first gets home, as if he can ascertain how you've been spending the time without your husband's company just by staring a hole through your temple. 

Probably, he could.

John's an attentive man. Always has been. So it shouldn't surprise you when he huffs gently and pulls himself to his full height with an air of grim determination. He's gonna ask one of his questions again, you just know it - the kind that leaves you exposed, crawling back to your husband's familiar apathy with renewed appreciation. John draws a breath, you close your eyes, and then the lift dings, doors opening with a rush of air that rivals the relieved breath you take. You step out before John can motion you forward as is his custom, ducking through the door to prevent him saying a word.

Distraction comes with the general din of settling in. John tucks your umbrella away in the tiny entrance closet and brings his bag into the kitchen. You dip quietly back to your bedroom to make yourself more presentable, calling from the bedroom for him to make himself at home. It takes you no time at all to get ready, the casual dresses at the back of your closet all hanging clean and untouched. You check to make sure they've not gone musty before pulling one on and applying some basic makeup. Rotting on the couch hadn't called for mascara, but a houseful of men certainly did. 

You blink when you realize the implication of that, smudging the dark product all under your lower lashes. You only resist the urge to roll your eyes at yourself for fear of repeating the process under your brow.

John's in the kitchen when you emerge, sudsing up the dishes from your lunch to your horror. "John! You don't have to do that," you squawk, attempting to shoo him along with fluttering hands, as if he were an overgrown pigeon. 

Unflinching. "Of course I don't. Wanted to be helpful but I didn't know what you'd planned for dinner so I couldn't get started on that."

"You didn't have to do anything," you counter, still hoping that your defiant presence at his side would cow him away from the sink.

He just smiles at you, that overly cheeky one that crinkles his eyes charmingly. "Wanted to, love,"

Well, who are you to say no to that?

The two of you slip into companionable silence as you get to work, though you play it up when he completes his task, leaning his hip against the counter with that same intense expression from before. You're not ready for the question, whatever it is. Maybe never will be.

John seems to sense this, changing approach by making a show of unpacking his paper bag, setting the options he's brought for wine out in front of himself. He eyes the ingredients you've assembled carefully, and sets a white bottle aside for dinner before helping himself to the drawer where he knows you keep your corkscrew, popping open a bottle of red as he knows you prefer it. You collect glasses as he does so, watch him warily as he pours you a generous glass. Once he's served you both, he settles into  an island stool with an exaggerated air of relaxation.

When he starts, the question is blessedly easy, though you remain on high alert lest he pull some intelligence acquisition maneuver on you before you even see it coming. 

"Well, how's it been on the home front?"

You know where it's going. Part of you wants to tell him to fuck off, get out of your house, scream and yell and pin everything on him - for always taking your husband away or for being an impossible standard to hold him to you don't even know. Another part of you just wants to be seen. John's got his arms crossed in such a way to make him impossibly broad, imposing. There'd be no getting past him even if you wanted. 

The worst part is, you don't.

"All's well, John, thanks." A lie, despite knowing how you feel, how you want him to force you to talk, crack you open and pry your injuries from you with strong hands, get you back in working order. You both know it.

"You sure? Been looking a little blue of late." It's not judgemental. You remember the old tan line he used to sport on his finger - wide and pale on his weathered hand. It's long gone, a nicely healed wound. He doesn't even worry the space with his thumb anymore, a habit you'd picked up of late, as if the band itself burned. You wonder how long you'll try soothing it once the ring is gone and nearly bite through your tongue when you realize what you'd just thought.

A clatter at the door saves you from answering and you force a smile as you turn to greet Johnny. He roars through the door as is his custom, loud and singular and enigmatic enough to make you forget your qualms when he hoists you into his arms and peppers your face in kisses. "Oh, ah've missed ye, bonnie," he crows, only putting you down when Gaz insists it's his turn.

You're turned about between the two of them, a mess of 'missed you too's, and 'good to see you's, and 'come on in, can I get that for you?' Gaz kisses your cheek, tells you dinner smells lovely despite it barely being comprised of more than its base components yet and you grin at him, letting yourself be charmed through another boisterous night with the boys.

It's not until much later, as you're sending everyone packing with to go containers of extras and squeezing shoulders in parting that you notice your fingers gripped tight around John's bicep, finger conspicuously empty.

Next>>

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Epilogue

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: We made it, friends. 🥹

Word Count: 2,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff and feels, that is all.

Epilogue: “Easy as Pie”

The week after the incident at Stull Storage, John, Sam, Dean, and Eileen sat down to a family dinner that you cooked in the brothers’ apartment. Aside from Eileen, all of you had injuries in one form or another (but even Sam’s shiner was healing up nicely). 

For dessert, you were a bit nervous as you brought out a freshly baked apple pie. Dean caught you mentally bracing yourself before you set it down on the table. He shot you a reassuring smile.

“Looks great,” he said.

Your returning smile was tentative as you divvied out the first piece. Dean was just a bit disappointed when you handed it to John. His eyes followed the plate.

You smiled more genuinely, and made sure the next generous piece you cut was for your boyfriend.

After everyone was served, you sat down with your own plate and encouraged them all to dig in. Forks hit the crumbly top and cinnamon apple filling, and there were collective hums of pleasure throughout the room.

You brightened and glanced over at the rest of the table. John looked contemplative. His fork rested on the plate for a moment.

He gave a rare smile. “That’s some damn good pie.” 

Sam nodded. “For sure.”

Dean looked over at you after he’d already demolished half of his serving. A smile spread across his face.

“Best slice of pie since I can remember,” he said, giving you a wink.

Both of you knew the weight of that review. It humbled you, making you blush.

You smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, rough with stubble.

“I guess this recipe’s a keeper then,” you said.

He hummed in agreement. When he went in for a real kiss, it was sweet indeed.

From then on, you all spent the evening talking, eating, laughing, with you and Sam drinking wine and everyone else their beer. You updated them on Andréa and Benny, who were planning their trip to Greece in a few months.

"We should take a vacation," Dean pointed out, gesturing around the table. "All of us."

Sam raised his brows at his brother. "Oh yeah? Where would you wanna go?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. He glanced at you, and found you smiling.

"The beach," he said. "Somewhere warm and chill, with those fancy little umbrellas in your drink."

"Hmm...I like that," you said, as your smile grew. Tropical, relaxing, a warm sun on your face, and your boyfriend in some board shorts. You could definitely go for some of that.

"Sounds nice," Eileen agreed.

"I'll look into some destinations," Sam nodded. Dean nudged his brother's shoulder.

"One word, dude. Maui."

Sam snorted. "We can't afford Maui."

"Hey, you never know, man! Time to check out some Groupons."

"You can't get a Groupon to go to Hawaii," Sam said. His face was scrunched in what Dean liked to call, his "Know It All" face.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean shot back. "There's a friggin' Groupon for everything nowadays!"

Of course, that devolved into a familiar sibling argument that was only disrupted when John broke into the conversation. He admitted something shocking—that he was taking some time off work, for the first time since he took his sons camping when they were kids. Sam and Dean teased the workaholic for finally "slowing down" in his old age, but it was all in good fun.

You and Eileen shared a knowing look. It all felt as close to family as you’d had in a long time.

And for Dean, it felt like he could breathe again. He’d gotten a text shortly after dessert—from Cas.

Jo made it into the Police Academy. She starts training in a few weeks.

Dean’s lips quirked with a smile.

How do you know?

I’ll be instructing a couple of her classes. Firearm Safety and Weapons Training.

Dean nearly laughed.

Good luck, buddy. Try not to get your ass shot.

To which Cas replied:

My ass will be nowhere within range, I assure you.

Dean did chuckle at that. When you turned to him and asked what was so funny, he just shook his head and grabbed onto your hand on the table.

“Nothin’. I’m good,” he said. He pressed your knuckles to his lips. “I’m real good.”

You smiled at that.

Later that night, Dean walked his father to the door while you and Sam were locked in a trivia game, and Eileen tried to play mediator between two very competitive nerds.  

“Dad,” Dean said.

John stopped with a hand on the door, turning back to his eldest.

Dean paused to gather his thoughts, but he eventually grasped his father’s arm and met his gaze.

“Just wanted to say thank you, for what you did for her,” he said, discreetly nodding at you. He kept his voice quiet. “You protected her when I couldn’t.”

John paused, seeming surprised. His brows furrowed as he shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me for that, son,” he said.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean insisted. He’d heard every bit of that conversation between John and Daniel in that warehouse. His father had been willing to lay down and die for you, not a moment’s hesitation.

Cas was right, Dean had realized. His father did have a line.

John let out a breath. “What matters is we made it here.”

Dean nodded, though he dimmed.

“Yeah, came with one hell of a price tag.”

It still weighed heavily on him, what he’d had to do to end Daniel Savage. In the end, John had lied on his statement of the events. He’d taken responsibility for grabbing Daniel’s gun and shooting him between the eyes.

“It’s the only thing I can do to keep you out of this,” John had told his son. “Should’ve been my hand anyway.”

Dean appreciated what his dad had done to protect him from the law, and his career, but it still made him feel dirty. A strike to his integrity as a first responder, and as a man. That was something he’d just have to deal with, along with everything else.

John distracted him, however, by gripping his shoulder this time.

“You saved my life, Dean,” he said. And with a hint of a smile, “It’s what you’re good at.”

Dean met his dad’s gaze. He wasn’t quite able to smile back, but there was new warmth in his chest.

“Oh,” said John, raising a finger. “Before I forget…”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver engagement ring with a small stone. To Dean, it looked familiar…

When it finally struck him what this was, he looked up at John in surprise. Dean glanced back to make sure you weren’t looking before he tentatively took the ring.

“Is this…Mom’s?” he asked.

John nodded. “The stone’s nothing special. You might wanna get it reset. Sam already figured out his uh…situation on his own. Maybe you want to find your own too.”

Dean knew what he meant. Sam had bought a ring last year, but he'd proposed to Eileen just a few days ago. They were already planning to get married a year from now, along with buying their first house together.

Dean examined the ring he held with a softer smile.

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he said.

He didn’t know yet if you two were ready for that step. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time…but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

He had time to do things right with you.

A few months later, Dean’s medical leave ended. He was physician-approved for duty, psych evaluation and all. He showed up for his shift bright and early.

He entered the doors of Firehouse 25 to a host of his friends and makeshift family cheering, complete with cheesy streamers and an even cheesier cake that Meg held. On the top was scrawled: Good Job Cracking Your Head.

“A smoke eater returns to the house!” Benny remarked with a grin. “Good to see ya, brother.”

He clapped Dean heavily enough on the back that it earned a grunt and a laugh out of him.

“You too, man,” Dean replied.

Meg set down the cake on the table and was the next one to playfully punch him in the shoulder.

“You have a nice little vacation?” she teased.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, complete with bottomless margaritas and little umbrellas.”

She smirked, but she was still earnest when she touched his arm.

“Welcome back.”

Dean chuckled. “Ooh, now I know you missed me.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes as she waved a dismissive hand at him. Chuck and Jack gave more sincere well wishes, with the latter actually hugging Dean. He’d tolerated it with a smile.

Gordon clapped him on the shoulder once Jack was finally done, and Dean sent the Candidate off with a bright smile on his face.

Gordon smiled. “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”

Dean nodded and shook the other man’s hand. “Thanks for holdin’ down the fort, man.”

“No problem,” Gordon said. “Any time you wanna go on sabbatical, you just let me know. Acting Lieutenant’s almost better than the real deal. It’s not as much paperwork.”

Dean chuckled, but before he could sling back a retort, the alarm went off. There was a working house fire downtown, according to the dispatcher in the overhead speaker.

Bobby appeared in the hall and clapped his hands once.

“All right, gear up. We’re startin’ off the day right,” he said. He gave Dean a look that was somehow both pleased to see him and stern at the same time. Bobby addressed him with a point of his finger.

“See me in my office before the end of shift,” he said. “We’ve got somethin’ to talk about.”

A few days later, Dean had the rare pleasure of welcoming you home from work on his day off. You trudged into the apartment with several bags and rolling a cooler behind you. He got up from the couch and grabbed some of the bags for you on your way to the kitchen.

“How did it go?” he asked, reaching out a hand to rub some flour off your cheek. You smiled brightly.

“Well, there was a little snafu with the mini quiche, but they loved the menu I proposed. They want me to cater the whole wedding!” you said.

“Whoa, that’s a lotta food,” Dean remarked. Once you’d dumped the rest of your stuff on the kitchen table, he slid an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, earning a squeal from you.

You clung to his shoulders. “You still on for being my official taste tester?”

He stared at you with mock offense.

“Uh, obviously. Mini quiche are my weakness,” he teased. “Just another form of pie, far as I’m concerned.”

You giggled into his lips as he claimed you for a kiss. It was both sweet, and a bit naughty as his hands moved to squeeze your ass. His words were no less heartfelt.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” Dean said. “I really am.”

 You smiled and stroked his cheek in answer.

The Monday morning after that family dinner a few months ago, you’d quit your job at Savage & Co. After a month of wracking your brain and your savings, you decided to start your own catering business.

It was your way of starting small, to try and get people in this town to know you for your food and baked goods. And maybe, if you were successful enough, you’d be able to open up your own bakery in a couple of years.

For once, you were going after what you truly wanted…but now, your career was only part of it.

You hadn’t forgotten your conversation with Dean about what he wanted for his future: of getting married someday, and having a family. Something he could build for himself. 

Not only did you want that for him, but you’d begun to crave that for yourself as well: a family of your own.

Realistically, you knew that part was years away for you and Dean. However, you had that in the back of your mind. Having your own business had always been your dream, but sometimes your dream could adjust. 

Or, it could become something new.

You’d also sold your grandparents’ house. You had contemplated going back, but you didn’t want to be reminded of how the police and the Arson Department had torn it apart after Daniel Savage threatened your life. You didn’t want to be reminded of where both of your grandparents died.

You loved that house, but you also knew it was time to let it go…

Because you finally understood what your grandfather had tried to tell you months ago.

A house did not make a home. And now, you’d managed to make a new one.

For his part, Dean had been happy to have you stay in his apartment. Sam was getting ready to move out in a few months anyway, as he and Eileen were deep into house hunting and planning their wedding.

“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.

Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he held your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.

Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little.

“They want to promote me to Captain,” he said.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes went wide.

“They? Who’s they?” you asked.

Dean blew out a breath and scratched at the small scar on the side of his head.

“Apparently it came from the Battalion Chief.”

He explained that the Fire Department had gotten the full debrief from both Sam and John about Dean’s involvement in ending the serial arsons and murders committed by Nick and Daniel Savage. Without you and Dean, they wouldn’t have figured out Azazel’s identity, let alone stopped his criminal enterprise.

You smiled wide with excitement as you held Dean’s face in your hands.

“That’s amazing!” you said. You pulled him in for a hug. Though he held you back, you soon realized that you were happier than he seemed to be. You pulled back and carded your fingers through his hair, earning his gaze.

“What’s wrong, baby? This is great news!”

Dean’s lips pursed. “I don’t know. I broke ranks and defied a direct order at the Savage & Co. fire. And at the warehouse, I was even more reckless. I don’t want to be promoted for disobeying orders.”

You frowned at that, even as you continued to stroke through his hair.

“What did Bobby tell you?” you asked.

Once again, Dean sighed. He’d been called into Bobby’s office a few days ago, after his first shift back at 25.

He’d surprised the hell out of Dean.

“Did you break ranks that day, and put not just yourself, but Benny and the rest of your men in danger?” Bobby said. “You bet your ass.”

Dean averted his gaze. He stood with his hands drawn behind his back, willing to take whatever punishment the Chief saw fit.

“But,” Bobby continued. His fingers tapped on his desk, where he sat on the edge across from Dean. “It wasn’t fair of me to stop you from lookin’ for your girlfriend.”

Dean’s attention sharpened at that, and he frowned in confusion. Bobby didn’t apologize. Ever.

“Sir?” Dean asked uncertainly.

Bobby softened the slightest bit. He heaved a sigh.

The man was a widower, but he still wore his wedding ring. He toyed with it now on his finger.

“We could’ve radioed in with the other teams already at work. I could’ve paired half of your team with the top floor units. But in the heat of the moment, I made a judgment call,” Bobby said, leveling Dean with a look. “As a leader, you’ll continue makin’ mistakes. You’ll make the wrong call. It’s how you learn to keep leading that matters. And there ain’t a person in this house that wouldn’t have gone up to pull your fool head outta that fire.”

Dean stayed quiet in his discomfort. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Bobby was telling him all of this.

“That being said, this is coming from the top,” Bobby said. His gruffness was back. He took a folder off his desk and handed it to Dean. “Here’s the next step, if you choose to accept it.”

You were crying by the end of his story. Dean cupped your cheek and caught your tears with his thumb. You grabbed that hand and gently squeezed.

“He believes in you, Dean,” you said. “So do I. And it’s my turn to be so damn proud of you.”

Dean graced you with a smile for that one. Yours brightened. You moved off the couch and slid into his lap, twining your arms around his neck. Dean welcomed you with an arm around your waist and a hand sliding up your jean-clad thigh.

“Guess I’m gonna have to get used to calling you Captain,” you said with a smirk.

Captain Winchester, Dean considered, rolling the weight of it around in his mind.

He chuckled. “Okay, maybe I'm liking the sound of that.”

“Mhmm, that’s what I thought,” you said, shortly before you pressed your lips to his. He squeezed your hip while your deft fingers once again slipped into his hair. With each new kiss, Dean felt more of his uncertainty melt away.

A new thought occurred to him then. It made him start to grin against your lips, and you parted from him.

“What?” you asked in amusement.

Dean slipped a hand into his pocket, where he felt the outline of his mother’s newly resized ring.

“Hey,” he said. Your brows drew together in suspicion at the gleam in his eye. 

“Hey, yourself,” you quipped. 

Dean breathed in deep, steeling himself. He looked into your eyes, and he smiled. 

“I’ve got a question for you.”

AN: ...And I think we all know what her answer was. ❤️‍🔥

I can't believe it! I started posting this story on September 15, the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month. Almost four months later, we finally made it to the end of Smoke Eater. 🥹

Thank you to all of you who've been following along at any point of the journey. Your comments and feedback have truly touched me, and have helped keep me going! 💕

Read the Sequel Story:

Ready for more Smoke Eater?

Here's Something Real:

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

▶️ Keep Reading: Something Real

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[reiden]

lovely to be rained on with you | s.hoshina

When your mother becomes a casualty after a Kaiju attack, you're left bursting with anger, and unsure of what to do with it all. The tragedy allows you to meet Vice Captain Hoshina, who seems to have developed a vested interest in you.

cw: gn!reader, angst that ends in fluff, death (reader loses their mother), very reader-centric, word-vomit

— ✦

Raindrops dot the sidewalk, the pavement turning a darker grey as you stare down. Droplets form over the rubber toe caps of your canvas sneakers, and you can feel your socks growing wet, your jeans along with them. The downpour is sudden — as though the heavens want to match you in your temperamental disposition. At least, this way, your gloom can be attributed to the darkened clouds and overcast sky. 

You have only just begun to realise the impermanence of many things. In a world such as this one, it's unwise to place your faith in the longevity of anything; nothing is promised a forever. Not that cactus your grandmother had given you two years ago, not your family's bookstore. Not even your mother's life. 

Her funeral is in the afternoon, meticulously tucked into the hour before your father's work meeting, and after the end of your shift at the convenience store. It's a recent choice of employment — it's only because your previous job was obliterated a month ago. 

The rubble that was once the bookstore your family worked hard to keep. Where you had spent particularly hot summer days, wasting away the hours between the aisles, reading anything and everything you could get your hands on. The memories folded into every nook and cranny had become nothing overnight; you had watched it all on the news. 

This world is cursed, you think. And you are doubly cursed to have been born into it. Water has soaked through your shirt, leaving it to stick to your back uncomfortably. You kick at the sidewalk and sigh, a shiver running down the length of your spine. The earthy smell of the rain, the bitterness in your heart: these things don't meld together all that well. You only grow despondent. 

It shouldn't have been so easy to lose it all. 

Your family had to wait a month for your mother's funeral. The Kaiju Cleaning Company couldn't get her out of the rubble without getting through the dead carcass laying atop it; cleaning was estimated to take 30 days, or even longer.

Fortunately, it had only taken a month. You wonder if your mother holds some kind of resentment that she had been set aside, that life had moved along without slowing to a stop just for her. Your father was given a week to grieve, and then he had to return to work. If you still wanted to fund your final year of university, you needed to find a job — which is what landed you behind the counter of a convenience store, with peeling tiles and not nearly enough books. 

You can taste the rain as it drips down the sides of your face, settling into the corners of your mouth. Your lashes clump together, sticking to your cheeks when you blink. Had you watched the news this morning, you might have known to bring an umbrella; perhaps, then, the sight of you waiting for the bus wouldn't be nearly as pathetic as it is now. 

But you haven't watched the news for the past thirty days. You rely on the emergency alerts that sound throughout the city to let you know when there's a kaiju present. Anything else you could learn from the news isn't nearly important enough for you to sit and listen, hear the same voices that announced the destruction of your bookstore and the death of your mother. 

You exhale shakily, and you pull your phone out just to check the time. It's cold, though it's not all that wet when you feel it in your pocket. It's another thirty minutes until the bus arrives, and then you'll have to shower, fix your hair. You'll have to walk out of your house and face what's left of your mother, tucked away in a casket. And unlike the first week after her death, when your father had been swarmed by reporters eager for an interview, you will only find a few people in attendance.

The interviews have been gruelling, every question dripping with a perverted sense of sympathy, as though they aren't digging through your hurt for a story. Once the news had passed, and there was an even bigger attack to detail in long-winded articles, the news of your bookstore and your mother faded into obscurity. 

A week and three days after the incident, you were visited by a few members of the Defense Force. It had surprised you that they cared enough — their job was done when they killed the kaiju and protected the majority. When you were met with a girl not much older than you, her hair sliced into a sleek bob, and a man with smiling eyes, you had assumed they were reporters. You tried to send them away with hostility, called them any and every insult you could think of, uncaring of what they might write about you. Would it have even mattered? No one else spares a thought over the events of the past. 

They had taken your rage in silence. The girl — Captain Ashiro Mina, you had learned sometime later — softly expressed her condolences. Her counterpart, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro, had handed you flowers. The conversation was clunky, awkward. Guilt had freely swam in the pit of your stomach for lashing out, and the two of them had clearly chosen to visit on a whim, tripping over their words, hesitating in order to say the right things. 

You were fumbling with the bouquet when Mina turned to leave, and as you shifted your gaze up, Hoshina's eyes were open. He bowed, gave you a meaningful look. "Stay safe," he told you. 

You like to think you have tried to do just that (though catching a cold because of the rain is most definitely in your near future).

-

It's unnervingly quiet as you walk down the hall. Your hands are clasped behind your back, your shoulder brushes against your father's arm. Everything is silent: the car ride, the wait for everyone to arrive, the eulogies. It's been quite a few days since you've cried, and you were beginning to think you had grown desensitised to it. The pain, though it exists, is dull — you've numbed yourself to it as best you can. You don't think you can find it in yourself to cry anymore.

It upsets you all the way to your seat in the front row, mere inches away from your mother. You don't want to forget how much it hurt; how will you remember her otherwise?

And yet, you are proven wrong as everything wraps up. Your head is tucked into your palms, teeth ripping into the skin of your bottom lip as you choke back every pathetic noise that bubbles up your throat. Your shoulders shake and it must be obvious to everyone what you're doing; they must pity you for what you lost. 

Every breath you take feels as though you're sucking in through a straw. It's not nearly enough. Your lungs burn and you press a hand to your chest, feeling every noisy thump of your racing heart. It slams against your ribcage like it wants to be freed from your body. When you can no longer stand to stay in your seat, in this room with your mother laid in a casket — just out of your desperate reach — you rush to leave. 

The funeral home appears rather dreary as it stands behind you. All tall, dark stone walls and rusty windows. The flowers sparsely planted along the perimeter look worse for wear. You suppose it's to be expected from a place that opens up for death. It has been raining all morning, and now all afternoon. You feel it begin to wet your hair and your clothes once more. Your appearance hardly matters — why bother to dress up?

Your eyes flutter shut as you suck in a breath, letting it settle into the pit of your stomach. To the rest of your city, your mother is a thing of the past. Did you hear about the woman who was crushed in that old bookstore? Such a shame. They send you their condolences and don't think twice about checking up on you again. And you could scream and scream about how they're not understanding — you just lost your mother. What are you meant to do without the woman who so graciously gave you half of her body and soul? 

The warmth of a body rips you from your thoughts. You wipe at your eyes, ears twitching at the noise of their shoes crunching over the gravel. They choose to remain quiet; you send them a side-long glance. 

"Vice Captain Hoshina?" The soft lilt in your voice carries your confusion as your brows furrow. "Why are you—"

"Why are you here?"

You study his profile as he shrugs, a crisp suit replacing the uniform he had worn on his visit to your home. His eyes are shut as they often are in the photos you've seen of him, curved like half-moons, but his mouth is pressed into a thin line. "Felt like I should be here," he answers quietly. You watch as his shoulders grow darker from the rain, but before you can tell him to head back inside, he's speaking once again. 

"Want me to go?" 

You answer without thinking much about it, like your mouth had known before your brain could decide. "No," you mutter, sucking in a breath. "Thank you for coming. Not a lot of people who...cared about her then showed up today."

It grows quiet once more. You listen to the gentle sound of the wind whistling through the leaves of trees, and the wet crunch of cars driving down the road behind the funeral home. Hoshina doesn't leave your side, even as the rain picks up, throwing sharp droplets in both your faces. You think about that saying — you don't know what you have until it's gone — and the latter-half that says you knew all along, you just never expected to lose it. Right now, there is some version of you that is living blissfully with their mother by their side; it grates at you to think about. 

Hoshina clears his throat and you smooth over your expression. "She won't be forgotten about," he says, and his voice is so steady that you almost want to believe him. "Well, I can say that I won't forget her."

Some part of you scoffs at his words. It's not enough — no one else will understand your anger at circumstances outside of your control. They won't agree with you when you curse and spit at fate, when you turn your back on your faith. Strangely, however, the other half of you is soothed. As you nod, you note that your bubbling rage has turned into a simmer instead. 

And now, you're not sure what to do with it. Once today ends, you'll be forced to shelve away the mess of feelings brewing in the cavity of your stomach. You'll have to hope that time chooses to heal over your wound instead of leaving you to rot. 

"When's the next intake?" you blurt out. Hoshina tilts his head to face you, one eyebrow raised. You bristle under his stare; it's impressive how you can feel the weight of his eyes even as they remain hidden. "For the Defense Force, I mean — the new recruits." 

His face softens and he heaves a sigh, as though he had known this question would come. Perhaps, it's predictable for you to fall on this path after tragedy. Your story cannot be much different from everyone else. And though you don't appreciate feeling like you are playing into the hands of the very fate you've grown to dislike, you find some comfort in the thought that there are others like you. 

"I won't tell you what to do," he begins slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. The suit creases at the bend of his elbow, his tie shifts from where it had been tucked into the jacket. "You should think it over some more." 

You frown. "Why would it matter to you what I do?" you snap, and the way his brows pinch make you feel like the wounded animal he seems to think you are. Silently, you beg him to throw you a bone. 

"Because it won't give you what you're looking for," Hoshina states simply. His mouth quirks up into a smile, "You won't feel satiated." He draws out his hand, waving his finger back and forth as he hums, "And it's not gonna ease the pain either."

His words only make you frown harder. Your shoulders hunch forward as you curl in on yourself, like a child who has just been chastised. He laughs so suddenly that it makes you jolt. 

"If you're so sure, then you can take the test at the end of the month." He stuffs his hands into his pockets, teetering forward to lean into your space. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. "Maybe, we'll end up in the same division," he smiles. 

"I'd be nothing more than dead-weight next to Captain Ashiro," you huff, forcing out a laugh as you take a step back. Hoshina straightens up, though he's looking at you with thinly veiled interest — and it makes you stiffen. You shiver, uncertain if the rain is the only cause. 

"I'll drag you along," he grins, like it's nothing. You notice, for the first time, that the Vice Captain has fangs. He leaves you sputtering, which he clearly finds amusing, laughing as he walks away. 

You're soaked from the rain, and so is he. You can only wonder what his intentions are as you stare holes into his back, willing him to explain.

-

Captain Ashiro Mina thumbs her way through the stack of applications, half-heartedly skimming over their names and faces. Hoshina hovers nearby, trying his best to appear disinterested. He stares at her desk, at the walls of her office, out the window — but his eyes never stray from the applications for too long. 

"Are you looking for someone specific?" Mina asks, looking up at him pointedly. Hoshina grimaces, momentarily feeling embarrassed though it's only over the fact that he'd been caught. 

"Nope," he lies. "Just bored, you know. I was looking at the possible recruits to pass the time."

Mina doesn't believe him in the slightest, that much is obvious from the way she raises her brows. Her mouth curves into an almost imperceptible smile. Fortunately for Hoshina, she doesn't mention how he's standing in her office of his own free will, and not on her orders. 

She flips to the next application. Hoshina moves before he can stop himself, grabbing the sheet of paper. There's a pregnant pause where neither of them speak, and Mina breaks it with a clipped laugh. 

It's too late for him to feel embarrassed about it. You look serious in your photo; there's a darkness beneath your eyes that wasn't there when he had seen you at the funeral. Hoshina turns the application around, allowing Mina to take a better look. He watches as vague recognition flashes through her gaze. 

"Can I put in a request?" Hoshina asks.

"They applied for Operations." 

"Even better." 

Hoshina is not usually so bold with his Captain. Mina had done more than enough when she opened up a space for him to fill, when she allowed him to do what he does best. There must be something about you, then, that has him behaving out of character. 

Mina nods, "I'll try — no promises." Hoshina can only grin in response. She speaks again, "Is this the one you stood out in the rain with?"

He'd gotten a nasty cold after doing that, coming back to the base with his suit drenched and his fringe plastered to his forehead. He doesn't respond, which is all the answer Mina needs.

[joonberriess]

𓆩♡𓆪 “wetter than umbrellas and stickier than apple pie,” — jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — fingering (brief), unprotected sex, creampies, attempted quiet sex, reader’s WAP, messy sex, squirting (mentioned), some dirty talk, possessive!jk, jealous!jk + jennie, jennie makes an appearance woooo, voyeurism on her part, she wants you, sexual tension(?), oc is a dumb puppy: confirmed

You’re just so so pretty… Jennie is utterly in love with you. How could anyone not be? You’re the sweetest thing that’s ever walked this earth; it'd be a crime to not like you. It made Jennie just want to wrap you up in a little cocoon and never let you back out, you were too good for this place (too good for Jungkook too in her humble opinion).

She’s always harbored a tiny crush on you, it never got too serious because she knew you probably didn’t swing that way anyways. There were no hard feelings between the two of you anyways which she was glad for. Jennie however was irked by Jungkook as of lately (when was she not irritated with him though?). More than usual might she say.

The thing was Jungkook had a big mouth, he was shameless and was always letting shit slip from his lips. Jennie despised him for putting images of you, her little cutie pie dummy, in the most vulgar positions known to man all because of his mouth. Up until now she hadn’t really thought about you in that way, even if the walls were a little too thin and she might have heard a thing or two.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you’d say with those cute puppy eyes of yours, “I promise I’ll keep it down!” Jennie knew you’d forget so she didn’t hold you to that.

It all started about a week ago when Jennie had met up with Jisoo and the older girl accidentally let it slip about you and Jungkook. “I can’t believe they talk about our sex lives, I did NOT need to know Jungkook eats ass for fucks sake.” Jisoo spits out in embarrassment, covering her mouth as she tries not to laugh too loudly.

Jennie’s brow quirks up, “He eats ass?” She peers over at Jisoo, “Who the fuck told you that.” She snorts.

“My boyfriend duhh, who else Jennie?” Jisoo shakes her head and rolls her eyes fondly, “He hung out with him like last week and they were talking about shit they’ve done or what they like and don’t like.”

Jennie stops listening once Jisoo starts complaining about Yugyeom spilling the beans. She looks down at the ground while they walk, zoning out and getting lost in her thoughts. Her not so holy thoughts at that.. Now she can’t stop thinking about how you’ve probably gotten your ass ate.

(It’s what you deserve of course. Jennie’s surprised her mouth waters a little at the thought.)

Since then Jennie starts noticing a lot more things she once didn’t think were sexual or shit she just flat out ignored like your unabashed nudity and silly little shows of affection with her. It makes her realize what a little minx you are, and the very painful fact that she’s attracted to you more than ever.

“Jennieeeee!” You happily whine and throw your arms around the girl, “Are you proud of me I made dinner for us.” You rub your cheek against her own and pout at her, “I didn’t forget to push down the lever on the toaster this time either!”

Jennie hesitantly slides her hands around your (soft?) hips, resting them right there as she balances herself because she’s got an arm full of you. “Really? That’s good y/n,” she squeezes your cheek and smiles. Jennie gets an eye full of tits right in her face she literally has to force her eyes away as she grimaces.

“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head, eyes full of wonder and lips still set into a small pout.

Jennie shakes her head, “Nothing, just hungry.”

“Let’s eat!”

Things get worse when Jennie comes home one night late from work, she had seen Jungkook’s car parked out in the front and she dreaded his presence already. “I’m home.” She calls out while unlocking the door, not wanting her entrance to be a surprise just in case you two were getting busy.

“Hi,” you turn your head and send her a soft smile, “you okay? I left some take out in the microwave for you.” You turn back around and lay your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder again. Jungkook’s busy still watching the movie so he waves his hand in acknowledgement.

Jennie rolls her eyes and passes by, but not before smacking the back of Jungkook’s head, “I thought I told your ass to stop parking your car so near the fucking line. I can’t even get out of my own damn car.”

“Fuck off no I didn’t,” Jungkook laughs, “you fuckin’ liar always trying to hate on me for no reason.” He says and throws a balled up napkin at Jennie who yells ‘Hey bitch!’ in surprise, “y/n tell her something, she’s being mean to me.” Jungkook buries his face in your face and leaves small kisses there.

Before Jennie can make a face of disgust you turn to her with that pretty face of yours, “Jen, I already told you that it’s not nice being a meanie. You pinky promised me you were going to be nicer.” It’s sickening how gagged you have her.

Jennie surprisingly lets it go and heads over to sit down on the opposite couch. She grumbles in annoyance and tosses a dirty look at Jungkook, who’s smug as a motherfucker right now. Her eyes lower down to your smooth pretty thighs, not a hair in sight (must have waxed..) You’re wearing a pair of pink sailor moon socks and from this angle she catches a glimpse of your panties which are completely lace..

You’re curled up on Jungkook’s side, tucked away and hidden by both his big ass and then the oversized shirt you assume belongs to him (given the lack of clothes on his ass). The collar is slightly disheveled and pulled down off to the side, exposing your hickey covered neck looking like he mauled you. Jungkook looks so nonchalant as he rubs your thigh with his hand, squeezing and gripping the soft looking flesh.

Jennie hates to admit but you two look so fucking hot together. Now she sees why people think you two make a fit couple, you make everyone else look like shit. She ends up sulking even more in her seat and decides to watch the movie instead or else she’s going to be more annoyed at him.

Half way through the movie Jennie hears you yawn softly and that’s when it’s Jungkook’s cue to move. He picks you up like nothing and starts to head out to your room. “Night Jennie.” You softly whisper, “I’ll see you tomorrow ‘kay?” You smack your lips together as you smile sleepily at her.

Jennie waves, “Night.” She decides to stick it out and watch the rest of the movie alone.

She doesn’t exactly count on falling asleep then and there, only waking up when the tv’s light blares in her face with the stupid “Still watching?” screen displayed. “Fuck what time is it?” She whispers to herself and grabs her phone, hissing at the brightness and closing her bleary eyes, “Three?” She grunts and rolls off the couch.

Jennie turns the TV off and heads down the hall to her room, blinking the blurriness in her vision away. She sees your door cracked open and makes a mental note to shut it for you after she finishes using the restroom. It’s when she’s washing her hands that she hears…it. She frowns in confusion and stops for a moment, hearing a rhythmic thudding noise against the walls.

“What the fuck..” Jennie whispers and dries off her hands, stopping for a few seconds as the sounds continue. “So I’m not trippin’.” She concludes and steps out quietly.

The noise is more clear when she steps out into the hallway and Jennie already knows what the hell you two are up to. It pisses her off more that the door is left open and now she has to fucking sneak into her room without being spotted. Just her luck honestly.

+

“Mm..mmm..” Moans slip past your lips as Jungkook’s hands hold your waist steady while fucks into your wet cunt over and over again. He’s not completely bottoming out to avoid making any unnecessary noises like your skin smacking against each other etc.

Jungkook’s eyes are settled down on your bouncing and jiggling tits, your nipples are perked up begging to be sucked on. He told you that you both needed to keep quiet but honestly it’s getting a bit harder with how good you wrap around his cock. Your cunt’s so fucking creamy dollops of slick coat his cock and form a ring around the base, which disappears everytime he slips back in to your dewy little pussy.

“Shit baby,” he grunts under his breath, “ ‘member we gotta keep quiet?” He bites down on his bottom lip and resists the urge to fuck into you harder.

You mewl softly in return and reach up to grip the pillow you’re laying on, “..trying,” you weakly huff, “just feels so good.” Your eyes are hazy and your speech comes out a little slurred, Jungkook already knows you’re about to start drooling at this point.

“Be a good girl for me.” He moans quietly and grips your chin tightly, pressing your cheeks together and making your pouty lips pucker up for him. “I know you can.” He whispers as his eyes drop down to where you’re both connected, a string of creamy slick already coats his pelvis and he curses at how much wetter you just got.

You gasp quietly and arch your back when his cock strikes your g-spot, perfectly rubbing up against it with his coordinated thrusts. You greedily roll your hips up into his and gurgle on your moans. “More,” you slur out, “wan’ more Jungkookie.”

He moans a little too loud as his hips stutter in their movements, he finds himself pressing in and rotating his hips in small circles. You’re just too fucking sexy for your own good, had his poor cock throbbing and everything. As Jungkook grinds in deeply, he listens to the sounds your cunt makes. It’s like macaroni in a pot.

“Holy fuck, you’re gonna make me cum baby.” Jungkook’s mouth falls open in a silent moan as he shudders, “Soaked lil’ pussy makin’ a mess on my cock, you gonna clean it for me?” He gasps quietly.

You nod eagerly and whimper for more, “C-Cum, cum in me.” You whisper out as your hand travels down, fingers parting in a ‘V’ right where his cock slides in and out. “P-Promise I’ve been good..!” You moan out, “Been the best girl for you.”

He loses it when your little fingers slide against his shaft everytime he backstrokes and then pushes back in. His balls ache and he fucks into you for a couple more seconds until he’s coming and filling your pussy to the brim. “Shit,” he releases a long sigh as he pants quietly and looks down, “fuckin’ hell.” Jungkook bites his lip and muffles his moan as he slowly slips his sensitive cock out of you with a wet plop.

You happily curl your legs towards you, hands coming under your thighs to hold them up so not a drop of cum is wasted. “Did good?” You sleepily ask.

“Perfect.” Jungkook licks his lips and leans up to kiss you as he trails a hand down to your slicked up pussy, fingers dipping into the mess you created down there. He intends on getting you messier, good thing you have all night long.

+

Jennie doesn’t sleep at all after that night. She remembers lying awake in bed as images flashed through her brain like a sequence. She thinks about your messy thighs and how your pussy stretched around Jungkook’s cock. Needless to say she went to bed uncomfortably hot down there and a pair of wet panties.

She doesn’t look neither you nor Jungkook in the eye the next day when she goes to get breakfast. You’re as clueless as ever but something about Jungkook’s dark eyes having this knowing look in them tells her he did that shit on purpose. She chooses to ignore it and continue like nothing happened. Maybe it was time she took Lisa up on that offer on being fuck buddies.

A couple of days later Jungkook breaks the ice between them two. Jennie had been home early from classes when a knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. She opened up and came face to face with Jungkook, “What do you want?” She deadpans, even though her actions say another thing as she steps to the side for him to enter.

“If you’re here for y/n she ain’t here, though I’m sure you don’t need my help in finding her since you’re always with her and shit.” Jennie waves her hand as she walks off without looking back at him, “Don’t fuckin’ make a mess or touch my shit.” She fully intends to go to her room but Jungkook calls out to her.

“Enjoyed the show last week?” Jungkook calmly replies.

Jennie stops in her tracks, “What show? You mean the movie we watched together?” She turns around and eyes him in distaste.

“You know what I’m talking about you little pervert.” Jungkook smirks, “I’m not fucking blind to the way you’ve been looking at my girl, and it’s not like I didn’t hear you go into the bathroom and just never go to your room after that.”

Her face heats up in embarrassment as she glares at Jungkook, “Fuck off Jungkook.”

“No really, did you enjoy watching her squirt all over my fingers and soaking the bed sheets? I bet you really wanted a taste of her creamy lil’ pussy. Bet you thought about how tight she’d feel around your fingers, makes you wanna have a taste for yourself don’t it?” He grins.

Jennie’s mind screams yes and for a second she nearly gives in and confesses. However, she’s just as prideful as she is horny, “The day I fuck her Jeon is the day you’ll be wishing you never spoke about it. Because just like that she’ll be playing for both teams when I’m through with her.” She watches his face fall and turn into something more serious, like he’s feeling threatened, “They always wanna come but they never wanna leave.” She winks and heads into her room.

.

“J-Jungkook..!” You cry out, voice high pitched and breathy as an even louder squelching noise resonates in the background.

He’s got his fingers knuckle deep inside of your slicked up pussy, thrusting them in and out at a mad pace. It’s so quick that your squirting out bits of slick whilst he fucks you with his fingers. Jungkook’s hell bent on getting you to cum for him, he looks pissed off and you can’t help but wonder why.

“Mmmm..!” You squeal out and shake under him, “S-Slow down Jungkookie,” you whimper out, “ ‘s too much!”

Jungkook does the complete opposite of what you asked and only speeds up, “Pussy’s all mine isn’t it baby? Say it for me, whose pussy is this?” He curls his fingers and searches for your g-spot, intending to abuse it.

You throw your head back and scramble to grip his wrist tightly, “Yours! It’s yours,” you sob out, “p-please..!” You feel tears well up in your eyes, “Jungkookie!”

“That’s right, all fuckin’ mine baby,” he growls and leans down to bury his face in your thighs, “all mine.” He repeats and takes your throbbing clit into his mouth.

You literally die and go to heaven. (And Jennie sits smug in her room because she’s the reason for your passing.)

TAGLIST: TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt

[owlespresso]

dogged pursuit. dr veritas ratio. pt 1 of ? summary: you've been appointed as the bodyguard of one doctor veritas ratio after a failed attempt on his life. he's easy to get along with, so long as you learn when to plug your ears and focus on his washboard abs. tags. suggestive content, reader insert is a bit of a freak

—

The planet of Orchestron-IIV is a classic vacationing spot. Though it’s covered by floodplains and forests, the real attractions are its coasts and its tropical islands—a region lovingly named Sene Verde. White sand beaches stare out into the glistening waters, where the capital city sits beneath the waves. You’re sure the underwater city is a sight to see. 

Pity that your client’s itinerary doesn’t include a visit to it. Instead, you’re stranded in an IPC-sponsored villa, a three-story home with three bedrooms and a pool which is ridiculously large for being right next to the ocean. Veritas, Intelligensia Guild prodigy, notorious bastard, and smoking hot piece of ass, prefers it much to the beach. He lounges next to it or inside of it, stretched underneath umbrellas or beneath the cool chlorinated waters. 

You don’t really get all the complaints going around about him. He’s pretty easy to work under, as long as you follow his every command. Which, as a bodyguard, is not very many. He’s pretty capable of handling himself. He made that much painfully clear from the moment you first met. You recall, fondly, the fit he pitched after he learned you’d be shadowing him through this entire trip. 

You don’t remember the specifics of what he said. Just a lot of belly-aching. You were too busy staring at his arms to really care—and that slutty little cut out on the side of his outfit. And really, what business does a scholar have wearing something so revealing? Surely, his students must be beside themselves at how distracting it is. He’d nearly wrung your neck when you posed the question, only half in jest.

Throughout the past two weeks, you’ve come to understand him better, you think. He comes from a planet where nudity isn’t that big of a deal. He wants people to know more things, and thinks it should be free for people to gain said knowledge. In the long hours you spend together, idling between his various meetings, he tries to teach you. At first, it begins with complex theorems and equations you never had any hope of solving. Then, surprisingly, he adjusted his ravings to be gentler on your poor, uneducated brain.

As big the stick up his ass is, he sticks to his principles. He always makes time to talk to you, to explain the vast mysteries of the universe in terms that you mostly understand. 

“I don’t really get the wind,” you say, dropping unceremoniously onto the beach chair beside him, stretched beneath the shade of another wide umbrella. You rest your cheek on your forearm, look him up and down through half-lidded eyes. He’s wearing satin robes today. They’re milk white, with golden embroidery, little patterns stretched across the sash tied around his waist. They reach only his mid-thigh and drape over only half of his torso. The rippling muscle of his chest and taut abdomen are bare for you to admire, his nipple pebbled atop the bountiful curve of his pec. 

He looks like you’ve just spat in his coffee, eyeing you exasperatedly over the tops of his sunglasses. “You don’t get the wind?”

“Like… where it comes from,” you drawl, absentmindedly dragging a finger over the course material of the chair. “I didn’t go to any fancy school growin’ up, so…”

This is your favorite game. 

He purses his lips and narrows his eyes, as if contemplating if engaging with you is worth it or not. In the end, he falls prey to his own, most fervent desires: the urge to dispense knowledge and the cloying need to make his intellect known.

“Well, the basic principles would have been taught in a rather elementary course,” Veritas says, matter-of-fact, in a way that means he isn’t intentionally looking to demean you. “Wind forms due to differences in pressure within a given planet’s atmosphere. The amount of it—or whether it happens at all varies from planet to planet.” he begins—and you linger in the sound of voice rather than the words themselves. You already know the basics of what you’ve asked. You just like to hear him talk. 

Because once he gets to talking, he can hardly ever stop.

Sometimes, he isn’t good at it. He’s abrasive. He agitates the IPC’s clients. You can see it in the taut pull of their shoulders, the way their lips twitch to fight their oncoming frowns. He’s too direct. He doesn’t mouth off, per say, but there’s something in his demeanor that lets them know he thinks they’re not as intelligent. It’s all tight handshakes and tight smiles in the end, but when he’s at last alone with you, shrugged off the heavy mantle of mandatory pleasantries, he fumes.

Midday has lapsed into early evening. Blue burgeons and encroaches on all the sun had once touched. The shadows grow long and the temperatures at last begin to dip, though remain balmy as you tread up the sandbar. A series of wooden staircases zigzag up the slope, leading up to your villa’s street. You trail after him as he talks—rants, really.

“They reached that conclusion based on a survey done by a prospective Genius Society member—one who doesn’t even specialize in the field!” he says with an exasperated sigh, kicking up grains of soft white sand. “He likely hasn’t even set foot upon Orchestron-IIV. How are we supposed to trust the word of a man who hasn’t even directly interacted with its native population?”

“Good point. I guess you can’t,” you agree, nodding factually. The stairs creak underfoot as you reach them, beginning the small climb up the bar. You don’t really remember the fine points of the argument—some prospective IPC investment in an underdeveloped, neighboring planet, one plagued by mysterious weather phenomena and potentially combative native populations. 

“They should have consulted Aventurine before dragging me all the way out here for consultation. He would have known better than to trust such a half-baked proposition, and with such little data to back it up!” he repeated, as if in disbelief, before looking at you sharply. “Do not tell him I said that. This conversation stays between us, and us alone.”

“I like it when we keep secrets together,” you sigh dreamily, skipping up the last few steps with a flourish. The sunbleached wood creaks beneath your leather boots. He tosses you an eyeroll over his shoulder.

“I’m serious,” he fixes you with a fiercely scrutinizing look. “If he is to receive any of my praise, it will come from me, and me alone. And when I deign to give it.” 

The relationship your charge has with one Aventurine should, in all respects, be of little to no interest to you. Yet, you are still human. You fall prey to petty curiosity as easily as any other. The good doctor would no doubt pitch another fit were you to pry now, so you simply guess it’s a power thing between the two of them. You don’t know Aventurine well enough to think otherwise.

“You seem awfully close to that guy,” you remark instead, testing the waters. 

“We’re business partners. Nothing more, nothing less. When the IPC is in need of my expertise, it is he who they reach out through and he who I collaborate with most often,” Ratio informs you, crisp and unfeeling, like he didn’t just say something incredibly odd and potentially possessive about the individual in question.

“Mm,” you hum in assent, pretending all of that is normal. “Well, keep on your toes around him.” You reach the top of your ascent, tailing him onto the quiet streets. Most of the avenue’s occupants are likely still on the beach or further in town, enjoying the resort city’s nightlife. 

Veritas looks at you, then, something sharp in his eyes. “And why would you say that?”

You tilt your head to the side as you regard him, coming into step beside him. He slows down his strides, eyes suddenly flinty, countenance withdrawn into something deliberating, defensive.

“He’s high up in the IPC, isn’t he? I wouldn’t trust any of those Stonehearts further than I can throw ‘em,” you say with a small shrug. 

“And yet, here you are on their behest.” Veritas says.

“Awh, you caught me,” you give him a roguish smile, lifting your hands in a gesture of surrender. “But answer me this: does anyone really trust their employer? I’m not gonna bite the hand that  feeds, but I’m not gonna love on it, either.”

“I see,” he says with a small sigh, and that strange steeliness vanishes. The taut line of his shoulders loosens and his eyes shut for a long moment.

“It helps that I like you, too. You’re real easy to work with,”

He gives you an incredibly skeptical look. “Am I?”

“Yeah. Why so surprised?” you give him a toothy grin. Even he knows how insufferable of a reputation he has. “You get fussy sometimes, but it’s not a big deal. And I like hearing you talk, so it’s not a big deal.”

“I am not ‘fussy’. I have standards befitting someone of my intellect and station,” he says, looking down his nose at you. He pauses beneath one of the street lamps as it flickers on, yellow light glimmering on all the gold bobbles attached to his ridiculous outfit. He opens his mouth to speak again, to give you another tongue-lashing, but he must realize by now that you like those, so he shakes his head and sighs instead, like you’re the difficult one. “Forget about it. I have better things to do than dawdle around with you.”

He’s still pissy from that meeting, earlier, you observe passively. Your gaze lingers on his back as he speed walks away from you, broad muscle rolling beneath taut, pale skin. Your mouth waters. You follow him.

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ~

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warning: Angsty?? Hurt with little/to no comfort maybe? Happy ending???? Not proofread

Damian always made promises to you and he fulfills them no matter the cost. He just wants to see you happy. He would make them when he had to go away for a few days, sometimes weeks, for a mission.

“Promises you’ll come back?” You would always ask.

He would always reply the same—his pinky stretched out towards you, a soft reassuring smile painting his lips “to you? No matter the cost beloved” a promise that was sealed with pinkies linked together and lips pressed softly against one another.

Have you ever loved someone so much that you plan your whole future together? With the other person going along and adding their own details to your make believe shared life?

That was you two, sharing those thoughts under the stars, holding each other in a comforting manner.

Surprisingly—Damian thought of the perfect wedding, a combination of both cultures, both big families together in one big room—dancing, laughing and chatting up a storm over the loud music that plays. The thought of having your first dance together as a married couple made him feel—ecstatic. Yeah, a perfect wedding for both of you.

What was a happy thought of him planning a beautiful day turned sour.

Because the day of the funeral was held about five days after his death, on the property that belonged to Bruce Wayne, right next to his grandparents. A private invent that was considered a nightmare.

Yet even when you're standing right in front of the grave, with his name engraved into it, you still think it’s just some horrible nightmare, one that you should have woken up to the moment you heard the news. That day it was cloudy, as if the universe had known when it had lost another soul, grieving with you in the process. That’s the only thing you could remember, everything else was much of a blur, the memorial, his burial—all of it until this very moment.

You find yourself alone, everyone else gone—they don’t have the heart to pull you away after giving their condolence. The tears are no more, your cheeks stain with them . There’s a painful feeling in your heart as your eyes follow the curves of his name on the stone:

In loving memory of our lovely son, Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

it’s hurts to much and all you could do is stare at the dirt. The sigh you let out is shaky—you’re trembling in your spot.

As more time passed, the more the sky got darker and darker with Grey clouds—the sound of soft thunder striking down followed by the wisp of rain soon after. It’s not long for the rain to thicken. But you didn’t budge, you couldn’t—cause if you did you wouldn’t have the heart to come back, not wanted to bear the pain anymore. The rain leaked through your coat at some point, wetting your clothes underneath as it sticks to your body along with your hair, wet down and sticking to your neck, cheeks and forehead.

You could hear the sound of heavy footsteps behind you—then a warm heavy hand was placed on your shoulder. The rain seems to stop and when you look up and there’s an umbrella placed over your head, a hand holding the curved handle. Your eyes up the hand and arm of the person. There, Bruce stands beside you with tired red eyes and a sadden smile, ones that seemed forced.

“Let’s get you inside with the others” you wanted to say no, but the words wouldn’t leave your mouth as his arm finds itself behind your back as he leads you away from your loved ones grave. You take one last look at his grave, before it’s gone for good.

It only took one look for him to understand, nodding as you leave the older man’s side.

Alfred and Titus follow you closely. They stand by your side waiting for you to open his door, and once you do they wait until you enter it first.

Damian's bedroom has never been so…quiet.

Usually when you come over there’s normally the soft sound of his TV or his favorite music playing in the background. But there’s nothing. His room is no longer bright, the only thing keeping it dim was the light from outside. Beds undone, a couple of his clothes are scattered everywhere, and his desk is covered in his painting materials.

It's like time had stopped all together in his room. It’s funny because he was never the type to be a messy person, he probably didn’t have time before he was sent away.

Titus, that sweet big dog, rubs his nose up against your palm—whining as he does so. You make your way up against his nose and up his head—gently scratching it as Alfred jumps up into your arms. You catch him with ease. The big Great Dane leaves your side for a moment and you don’t think much of it. With the cat still in your arms, you’re scanning the quiet cold room.

Up until your eyes land on a spot in his room—the walls filled with nothing but pictures. A closer look and it’s pictures of you and him—with a handful of them also being him with his family or his pets. Tears threaten to spill once more—you try to hold them back.

But you're unsuccessful.

A few of them fall down the fat of your cheeks. Every picture holds a memory. Ones you and him held dear in your hearts. Something hits the back of your leg and you let out a small ‘ow’. Alfred jumps out your arms as you look down, eyes blurry as you blink the tears away. Titus stands below you right by your feet with a thick book in his mouth. The Great Dane nudges right up against the back of your thigh. Titus was such a smart dog, maybe smarter than other dogs around the world.

He does it one more time until you take the book out of his mouth sniffling away your tears as you do so, clearing them up with the somewhat wet sleeve of your coat, very faint teeth marks cover the back and front of it. He wants you to open it, that’s what you think and it’s probably right. You find yourself sitting on the ground, back up against the wall with your legs crossed over one another. The big dog lays beside you, head on the fat of your thigh while the cat finds its place on top of Damian’s bed.

You’re hesitant to open it and you don’t know why. Few minutes of silence and fighting with yourself about it—with a single sigh you open it. The first page is blank but the next one and the following aren’t. It was his sketchbook. One that he would try to hide from you because it would make him embarrassed if you had ever laid your eyes on it. His words not yours. Damian was amazing when he came to his artistic side no doubt about it.

Every page filled with sketches, every space taken up by them and Arabic language beautifully written on the corners of most pages. It wasn’t a surprise when you saw your reflection on paper. Actually, most of them were of you. Others might find it weird, but to you it was something that made your heart pound and your face feel warm. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want you to see it.

Flipping the page one last time, you find a small paper folded in half in the small crease of the book. You think it’s another drawing, so imagine your surprise when you unfold it and it's written later.

Addressed to you from Damian. You recognize his hand writing with every cursive on every line.

‘I’m never good with affection, I would like to apologize in advance despite being together for two years’ you find yourself smiling. Something you haven’t done in days ‘I’m not good with words either, so I hope you find this letter to be of use. Grayson told me I should do something for our third year anniversary—seeing as we both haven’t done anything special for the two previous years. With you being my first I, myself, am not very good at any of this and you know that. But I’ll try for you. Remember, not that long ago when we would talk about our future together under the bright stars? It’s a little ‘sappy’ as Todd would put it but I hope it becomes true in the near future. Grayson and Drake told me not to worry about it as much, because they are both ‘sure’—hinting at our future like they know something. And I think they do. Secretly I know Grayson is already planning a wedding. It was the first thing he did when I told him about you. He cried when he found out he was the first to know, but don’t tell him I told you. Words can’t describe how much you truly mean to me, they can’t describe how much I…..’

that’s where it ends. He never finished the letter. You wanted to yell at the letter, but doing so would make you look like you’ve lost your mind. Not that you have already. All you could was cry—trying your best to hold back loud sobs but they came out choked out instead. The letter is covered in droplets of your fallen tears as you crumble it under your grip, holding it close to your chest.

The book is long forgotten.

Maybe in a different life things could be better for the both of you.

Schools literally start’s TOMORROW 😭

Buts it’s my last year, graduate of 2024😋 (I’m a senior without a drivers license 😞)

[etherealyoungk]

love at first sight | joshua hong

✩ seventeen as romantic tropes series ✩ masterlist ✩

PAIRING: joshua x reader

THEMES: love at first sight trope, strangers to lovers

WARNINGS: fluff, rain

WORDCOUNT: 728

A/N: ahh i kinda found this trope hard to write 😭 i tried my best

you weren't much of a romantic. you'd read about love and the infamous love at first sight countless times, thinking it was overrated, until the day it happened to you.

you're walking, the clouds gloomy and grey, heavy with rain that is ready to burst anytime. you could tell that it was going to rain cats and dogs and groan because you should have known better than to not carry an umbrella especially given how unpredictable the weather and rain had been this past week. you just continue walking to your destination - a job interview, praying it doesn't rain.

but the weather obviously had a mind of it's own and a few minutes later you can feel the drops of rain scatter down, falling on you before it gets heavier. you pick up your walking pace and walk faster, the drizzle getting heavier and heavier until it was straight up a heavy downpour and if you didn't seek shelter now you would get drenched, which is not the ideal way to show up to a job interview.

you run the best you can with your shoes and find a small a small awning in front of a store, making a run for it there, putting your handbag over your head to protect your hair your spent hours styling as you make your way to the awning with a desperate determination.

just as you jog into the awning, you feel someone run beside you, overtaking you and taking a place there but you don't have enough time to stop and you end up bumping right into them. they catch you before you fall.

"woah easy there", a sweet voice tells, his hand holding your arm to support you up as you regain your balance. you look up and see a man in front of you, pretty much in the same state as you, all dressed up and almost drenched.

you look at him and can't help but laugh as you look at him and he looks at you with those pretty eyes and lets out a sweet laugh as well.

"guess we both got caught in the downpour huh", he tells, his voice sweet. "yeah, weather is crazy this week", you fill in, as you catch your breath.

as you continued to look at the man, you couldn't help but feel a attractive to him, and you felt something bloom in your heart, something that made you feel warm and fuzzy. this man was so pretty. you'd never felt something like this before and you feel your heart beat thumping softly.

"i'm joshua", he introduces, giving you a friendly smile. "i'm yn", you tell, still mesmerized by him.

you watch as he ruffles his brown hair's damp and gotten a little wavy from from all the rain, his shirt and shoulders wet but you are in the same boat. but somehow he managed to look so pretty and handsome despite the situation and you find yourself staring at him for a couple of extra seconds before you look away, back at the rain that was pouring down.

"god i hope this rain stops soon, i'm going to be late", you mumble as you look at the rain pour down at a steady pace, with no signs of stopping. you pull your blazer around you closer to shield yourself from the sprinkle of rain that was falling on you because of the harsh wind.

"late for work?", he prompts. "i'm late too", he adds. "i'm actually late for an interview", you tell. "we can't have you being late for a job interview now can we?", he tells and as he scans the area and spots a convenience store on the opposite end of the road. and it's like you can read his mind because you someone knew exactly what he was going to do.

"don't, whatever you're thinking, it's not a good idea", you warn and he only smiles. "i'll be back", he tells before he starts to make a run for it in the downpour, towards the store and your hand reaches out for his in an attempt to stop him but you end up running behind him too and his hand encases yours as you both run across the road in the rain, getting soaked.

as soon as you enter the store, you look at him and burst out laughing because of what you'd just done, and so does he, giving you a sweet smile and laughing along with you, your hand still in his and you could feel the connection you had with this man was instant, something special.

"that was...fun", you tell when you finally catch your breath. "you can feel the spark between you both as you look at him.

"nothing like getting stuck and running in the rain is it?", he asks, with an amused smile. "let's buy you that umbrella so you can get to your interview", he adds, with a small smile, letting go of your hand which now feels empty without his warmth.

you get to your interview just in time, closing the umbrella that the man, joshua had bought. you set aside the umbrella and brush your damp blazer, hoping it would be dry enough but this had to do. that's what you get for running in the rain like a crazy person and you find yourself when you recall back to that moment.

you never got his number but the next week when you get the job, you're surprised, because your team leader was no other than joshua.

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @blue-jisungs @wootify @n4mj00nvq @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @joshuaahong @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii @wheeboo @fairyhaos @kikohao @rubywonu @odxrilove @writingmeraki @asasilentreader @kwonshiho @belladaises @graybaeismytae @mykpopficblog @seunghancore @emotionalsupportbrat @moodays @avaaahuang @foxinnie8 @wonvsmile