#i feel like ass ... i would rather not find out if this headache is a migraine in the middle of a field

[ofcowardiceandkings]

messaging a supervisor to say youre ill today and waiting for a response while paranoid youve messaged the wrong person or its not sent or whatever other batshit thing .. physical pain

[nouvxllev]

closed-door policy || p3

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: Even if the sky were to fall under the three of you, you still couldn't believe that Wednesday Addams was standing right beside you, indirectly inviting you to a goddamn date in front of the entire student body.

Words: 5.2k

Warning: slight angst???

a/n: just a little update before i get kicked in the ass with assignments and exams

part 1 || part 2 || masterlist

You open your eyes, a blaring alarm clock from your phone blasting in your ears, only to wake up to an empty bed. Your empty bed. You look off to the side, where Wednesday was usually supposed to be, but none. No one.

A headache started to form, but it was fine, you'd think. It was one of the many post-party clarities you'd have. It wasn't even the worst one out of the many. Leaving only you to blame, and a groan to escape your lips as you massaged your temple.

You could almost throw up if not drinking a cup of water sitting next to your bedside table, wondering if it was even drinkable to begin with because of the aftertaste you experienced.

With a sigh, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Trying to stand up but kept grounded by whatever the fuck you were feeling now.

It was only so early in the morning. 6:30 displayed on your phone, the brightness overwhelming. Wednesday was always someone who got up in the earliest parts of the day. But you'd always find her sitting perfectly still at her desk, typing away whatever idea she had on her typewriter. It was the usual, the everyday thing. Until now. You don't know what changed her mind.

You closed your eyes, desperately hoping the nauseating headache would pass soon. You sit there, still as a board, your fists clenching around the fabric of your bedsheets. Until Thing, an appendage you once found horrifying to the point you locked yourself out of the dorm, approached you with a sticky note attached to his… fingers, body?

Reaching out for the sticky note, Thing signed. 'Wednesday left it. For you, I could only think.'

With heavy eyes, you read what was on the page.

"Forget what happened yesterday, everything."

Of course, you thought to yourself. Atleast she wrote it with her pure coherent handwriting. That's a plus.

Wednesday was always like this the night before. Acting as if the both of you weren't in love. Or atleast, had something going on in between. You didn't know anymore.

"Thanks, Thing." You replied before throwing the note into the trashcan.

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Love had a way of wrenching itself into people's hearts; completely tearing them apart, limb by limb as they succumb to the fatal reality of unrequited love. If not death, it'll be love.

Day and night, her living wake, she shouldn't fall in love with someone. Again. Even in a million years, she'd rather be left alone with the reaper instead of someone by her side. Yet, she couldn't erase what she willingly felt for you. Though, unwillingly or willingly, she was in love. With you. Of all people. In and of itself felt terrifying.

She knew you wanted something more. Your eyes said it all, every time you talked to her you'd say words that should've been left unsaid, your presence itself made her know you wanted something more of the relationship she gave you. It was written all over you, etched in everything you do.

But that was the problem.

You were too in love with her.

Wednesday was afraid she couldn't love you as much as you loved her.

It was unforgiving, she knew, how she was leading you onto a label that meant nothing but quiet sighs amongst closed doors. It wasn't false hope that she offered, nor was it a mere hoax, Wednesday herself is still madly in love with you. She just denies it over and over.

She didn't mean to take it too far. To continuously bring you over to her side, kiss your worries away and the hefty pain that lingered on your soul, whispering whatever you wanted to hear. She didn't mean to be so vulnerable that it led her to a situation of long nights. Acting as if everything is fine, normal as it is. As if nothing ever happened, you never happened.

As much as she wants to get rid of you, get rid of whatever she was feeling about you, she needs you.

Your voice lingered. Echoing somewhere in her brain, in her heart dare she say. Your kisses remained on her stained lips, your touch persisted their warmth on her body, everything. Everything about you stayed, you stayed.

Wednesday needed you more than she could ever need someone in her life, she needed you more than she needed air to keep on living. You were her heartbeat that kept her alive all this time. It's confusing, even for her, how you were a paradox that Wednesday loved and hated how she knew you loved her back.

The many times you've mistakenly said 'i love you.' And the many times your eyes shimmered with hope that Wednesday would say it back. Of course, she never did. Instead, she wished that you'd take it back, take your undying love for her back and stuff it away deep into your heart where no one can reach it.

Wednesday wanted to erase it. Forget, forget, forget, repeats inside her brain, dawning on her. But she couldn't. She wouldn't.

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You don't know how many seconds had passed when Wednesday walked by you, ignoring the simple hi and wave you offered to her. Of course, you kept on walking. Same old chatter surrounded your being, your four friends laughing along with the stride of your feet. But your mind wandered off to somewhere else, not really tuning in to whatever your friends had to say.

You could hear Enid asking her from the distance, asking her why she wasn't more friendly with you as if she didn't just go out of her way to rescue you from whoever the fuck that girl was yesterday. Truth be told, you could ask her the same question. Would you though? 'Course not.

It's not unusual for Wednesday to completely ignore you, or to glare at you like you've cursed her entire family bloodline with a single greeting. What is usual is for Wednesday to carefully drop a note into your bag.

'Quad. After class.

Signed, Wednesday Addams.'

Signed, Wednesday Addams, she writes. As if she wasn't the only person who makes out with you in secluded areas.

You read every stroke she wrote. Every word, every note that graces the pocket of your bag you always made sure to open whenever you pass by Wednesday, every time she turns around just slightly to read your expression when you open her note. You couldn't help but wonder if Wednesday will ever, one day, stop to think about adding more than just the location and what time will it be.

But you'd have better luck at dying first.

"Hey. . . Party. . . y/n!"

Words start to blur as you think to yourself even more. Would Wednesday ever give you something more than just a loose piece of paper she found lying across her trashcan? Would Wednesday ever think of you as someone she enjoys being with instead of the whole friends-with-benefits thing? Would Wednesday ever love you as much as you love her? Does Wednesday even give two shits about you?

"Y/n!"

You turned your head around, the note in your hands immediately being crumpled and stuffed into your pockets. Damn, why was everyone yelling your name all of a sudden this week?

"Yeah, hey," You started, stopping in your tracks when your friends stopped too.

"The party? The one that fur guy sent out?" Your friend asked, their arms crossed and leaning against a wall. "Calling all furs! Or some lame invitation." Right. You almost forgot the reason you went to an outcast among outcasts school.

'God, it's only been a day since the last party. Don't you guys get tired of doing this shit and doing the same fucking people?' You almost say. You were glad you caught yourself before words came flying out of your mouth. But you weren't wrong, parties were becoming consistent, and you couldn't attend them like usual without having to sit in bed for atleast 20 minutes to question your self-worth.

Maybe Wednesday's constant refusal did rub off on you.

"Can't go." You randomly blurted out, too quick for your friends to start noticing something's different about you.

"And why?" The other chimed in, immediately asking of you, you can sum up that all four of them were suspicious. "You always go with us every time! What happened?"

"I have homework. From Ms. Cadie. I really need to submit it by tomorrow. I can't fail her class this time."

All of them laughed. "Since when did you care about homework and Ms. Cadie?"

Your other friend agreed, slightly nodding their head. "The last time I've heard Ms. Cadie's name come out of your mouth is when you started talking about how fucked up it was for her to give you a low grade and how you would've torn up the exam paper if given the chance."

You shrugged it off. "I'm a changed person."

"Bullshit!"

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It's amazing how somebody could ramble about so many at once, yet ramble about absolutely nothing or just something that literally has no sense whatsoever.

It was unfair. Sure, you loved Wednesday, you shouldn't be at the quad after class pretending to fawn over some guy on the bench with your palm resting on your chin, acting like he was the most important person in the world even though he probably doesn't know how to strike up something interesting as a conversation topic. But you would. Just for the small price of Wednesday glaring knives at him, and probably more at you too.

If having to meet death for the second time in a row to get an ounce of attention from Wednesday outside in terms of the closed-door policy, you would've been doing that ages ago if it weren't for her constantly locking you up in their dorm after night or after parties and something following you around.

Right now, you could've been enjoying your time with Wednesday. Letting her hands roam all over your body, kissing you as if you were the only person who mattered in this entire world. But no, you decided to see how early you'd face death. Or in short: You just wanted to see Wednesday jealous.

Childish, sure, you'd admit, but the way you would often sneak a glance over at her table with Enid, you could see how eager she was to snap the guy's head off. She could never be so gorgeous.

Your body leaned into him, your head tilting ever so slightly to get his attention, a sly smile gracing your lips even though you wanted to scowl at him for the 100th time.

"So..." The guy paused, anticipation waiting in his eyes as his leg rocked back and forth, "the Rave'Ns coming up and—"

"It is?" Your eyes locked onto his, eyebrows furrowed. A hint of surprise in your voice.

"Yeah, next week, and well," he continued, a smirk playing on his lips, "I was thinking we could go together. You know, on a date." He looked confident, you'd give him that. You almost felt pity for him for what you were about to say.

"I—"

"She'll be attending with me."

A sudden cold voice cut through the conversation, interrupting your soon-to-be-rejection. You turned to find Wednesday standing there, her eyes attempting to murder the guy in front of you.

Even if the sky were to fall under the three of you, you still couldn't believe that Wednesday Addams was standing right beside you, indirectly inviting you to a goddamn date in front of the entire student body.

You stayed silent, thanking whoever was up there for gracing you for this moment.

The guy scoffed, maybe too confident for your liking to scoff at The Wednesday Addams. "You don't even—"

"L/N owes me."

Her voice was stoic, collected even. But it carried so much intent that made his expression falter. Even you couldn't read what was inside her head, you could only hope it was an intricate 50-plan very gruesome murder of the guy.

"You have a ten-second window before I remind you that I have the physical and mental capacity to skin you alive to substitute your bones and follicles as a bow for my cello."

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He put his hands up in surrender, carefully standing up and backing away. He muttered a half-assed apology, and you could hear his voice trembling. But even so, he still had the damn guts to meet your gaze. "I'll see you around, Y/n."

You turned to Wednesday, watching her face morph into a scowl. A twitch in her lips. Just how you liked it.

"See you around!" You yelled, waving goodbye while a smile was playing on your lips, knowing damn well Wednesday was regretting ever doing something remotely nice to you.

Wednesday's scowl deepened, you know of it. Just because she immediately grabbed your wrists, not caring once for the people who were staring bullets when she dragged your lovesick body around, leading you into a secluded area.

"So we're on a last-name basis now, Addams?" You teased as you stepped in front of Wednesday who was leaning against a wall, a grin appearing on your face even though your heart couldn't restrain your hands needily wrapping around her waist. "Thought you were better than that."

Wednesday looked you up and down, though you could see her façade falter at your simple touch. "You seem to have a hard time remembering anything beyond pathetically flirting with someone." Her eyes narrowed, crossing her arms. "You were supposed to meet with me."

"So what you're just spouting at me is that," you pause for a slight moment, relishing in the way Wednesday looked at you with that stoic expression. "You're jealous?" You whispered, a raspy voice coming out of your throat.

"I don't indulge in such an emotion. Let alone wear it."

You pushed her even further. "Oh, but you've tried it on so many times, Willa. I think you're getting used to it."

There was silence in the room. The confidence you were reflecting was starting to falter, you were about to say a thousand-word essay on the spot saying how you were so sorry for even talking back to her.

Wednesday let out a deep breath. "I didn't bring you here to argue." She leaned in, her lips almost in touch with yours. You could feel her breath on your skin, and you could see almost every feature she carried on her face. She didn't need to say anything more, you loved her as much as you loved kissing her.

---------------------------TIME SKIP----------------------------------

"Holy shit... Willa!"

You yelled, barging into the shared room the two of you lived in for the semester, dressed up and everything. It wasn't too fancy, nor was it too horrible up to your standards. It was just you overall, and you were comfortable with that.

"Get your shit together, we're gonna be late for the Rave'N!" You paced around the room, hoping to see an already dressed up and ready-to-go Wednesday Addams with that perfect scowl on her face and her go-to threat about how she'd rather do this instead of attending the Rave'N a second time.

But you had to remind her; she was the one who invited you.

You stopped over the vanity mirror you brought for the two of you, fixing the fabric of your clothes, trying to get it as neatly as possible.

You heard a turn of a doorknob behind you. "Damn, what took you so long? I was about toooohhhh…. holy shit."

You looked at Wednesday in the mirror, there she stood—looking absolutely gorgeous. It was truly unfair how she could steal your heart within mere seconds, and it was unfair how the world depicts heaven as something after death when it's right here in front of you.

Wednesday could've chosen not to do anything, and not to follow whatever the dress code was at the Rave'N, but here she was. The outfit complemented her style, her eyes, her soul, her everything—it suited her. More so than most. Of course, it was an all black gown just like her previous Rave'N attire, but it seemed she changed it up a bit, adding subtle details that captured the essence of her entire being.

You turned around, coughing whatever was magically stuck in your throat. Maybe the urge to make out with her the entire night.

"You—You look.." Fuck, you almost choked on your words. "You look, menacing. Yeah." Your last breath almost came out as a whisper of relief, a sigh of someone who’s been charmed till their dying moments. It wasn't the typical compliment you'd give to someone, but it was the compliment that always had Wednesday smirk.

"You're making quite the commotion about a stereotypical party amongst teenage adults," she remarked, walking towards you, her voice carrying that distinct calmness that bordered on some sort of intent.

"Didn't you attend this before?" You said, fixing her collar, "It's like a prom, Wednesday, think about it," you replied with a playful grin. Your hands firmly tugging the points of the collar to not immediately pull her into a crushing hug.

"People don't usually persuade someone by making it worse."

"You're the one who invited me." You pointed to Wednesday, then to yourself. You always loved the crease in Wednesday's eyebrows whenever you pointed out something correct.

Wednesday arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms while she looked at you up and down. "I invited you out of—"

"Jealousy?" You immediately chimed in, a huge smile tugging on your lips, already knowing what the answer was. Until it faltered because of Wednesday's dark gaze dawning on yours.

"—Necessity." She continued her own sentence. "This is not because I enjoy such affairs. Nor jealousy as you assume."

You laughed, a way to hide the creeping blush that was making their way to your cheeks. "Right, necessity. Because every person like you attends a prom as a need, not because they wanted to scare away a poor guy out of flirting with her girl."

The last two words slipped out almost accidentally and immediately, your bold confidence almost fading away as your throat slightly cracked. But it was fine; seeing how Wednesday had that perfect blush tinted on her face. You could almost paint every sunset that ever was to adore this world with the color of your soul whenever you see it.

She cleared her throat, her eyes averting yours. "Don't hold your breath."

"Just a bit of harmless teasing. Sorry, Wends." You power-walked your way over the door, a tinge of embarrassment coloring your cheeks and invading your brain. You turned the knob, opening the door for her as a silent gesture that the conversation should probably just stop and end.

Wednesday walked through the door, her usual stoic expression back in place, though the faint blush never wavered away. She never fails to make you smile like a complete fool.

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"Okay, I just have to lay a ground rule before we enter."

You stepped in front of Wednesday, meeting her gaze with your own serious or scowl expression. Music coming from the Rave'N was blasting in your ears as if it was a sonic boom, the bass coming alive as your body vibrated.

"Please do make it quick before I flee the scene with a decapitated head along my hands." Wednesday squinted, her tone almost disgusted. You could tell that the flashing lights and smoke machines surrounding the Rave'N wasn't really Wednesday's scene; that should've been obvious by now.

"I know you were upset at your last Rave'N because of the prank thing, and—"

"It was simply inane. Unforgivable, even."

"...Right," you nodded slowly, almost concerned with how passionate she was about the subject matter. "Buuut, please don't recorrect their doings. Even if it was 'unforgivable' as you say. You know, with real blood."

Wednesday's eyes narrowed slightly, a tilt in her head. "I make no promises, y/n."

You clicked your tongue, giving her a slight nod of acknowledgment, turning your heel, and letting Wednesday follow suit. "Good enough reassurance for my conscious about aiding and abetting your future crimes."

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The two of you stepped into the life of the party, or rather the complete chaos was it all. You knew the Rave'N as some kind of formal event that Nevermore always held but couldn't be bothered to attend, but you did know that it was always held delicately with the hands of the teachers.

And, fuck, you were so wrong.

Ever since Weems died, and a new principal took her position, the event was nothing compared to a typical frat party you were always getting dragged into.

There were bodies on the floor, laid down and absolutely fucked out of their mind, standing up, hell there was even someone on the ceiling.

The air was completely occupied with the scent of alcohol terribly not-so-hidden by the mix of juices and something else that you couldn't quite identify and would rather stay that way for the rest of your life. There was that occasional harmonized (somehow) burst of laughter from the students who attended, the dance floor wasn't that filled with people but it was enough to get pushed around on.

Drinks and food were scattered on the sides, and you of all were surprisingly amazed that they weren't trampled to death and shattered into pieces.

"Oh, God." You muttered to yourself, already expecting Wednesday to have disappeared the moment you turned your head.

Until you were met with the same girl, looking like the perfect balance between chaos and tranquility with her presence.

"You do realize you have approximately five seconds to persuade me to continue further before I maim you from head to toe and taxidermy your flesh." She quipped while you gulped. The sentence alone made you feel like you were being maimed.

"I plead the fifth," you held your right hand up high as you faced Wednesday. "You don't have to enjoy it. Just stay with me, alright?" You lowered your hand, offering it to Wednesday, "I am your date after all. You can't just abandon a girl like that."

Wednesday could only look at you up and down, she has a habit of it doesn't she, giving you a bland look before walking down the steps and over to the drinks table. Completely ignoring your rather pathetic attempt at holding hands with her.

With a sigh, you followed her oddly fast-paced walk. "Oh, so you can fuck me sideways and back on our balcony but you draw the line at holding my hand?"

"I rather not use such vulgar terms, but precisely."

"Okay, Wednesday, I wasn't the one who was whispering how much you wanna bend me over and absolutely—"

She suddenly stopped, turning her body to face yours. "Should've stapled then skinned your mouth the time we stepped out of the dorm." You almost missed how Wednesday's cheeks had that slight red tint on them, and how her eyes softened just a tiny bit.

"But how else are you able to kiss me?" you teased, your hands going behind your back as you looked at Wednesday with a lopsided grin plastered on your face, just how Wednesday loathed it.

She looked up at you, crossing her arms while she lowered her voice down to something of a whisper, a sultry hint to it. "I'm sure there are other areas you want me to kiss."

"Well, aren't you a mind-reader?"

"Oh, aren't you insufferable?" Wednesday rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop a subtle smile tugging at her lips.

The two of you enjoyed the party, somewhat. A little bit more than the other one, but it was nice to be in eachothers presence with everyone around you. Not just behind closed doors.

It was awkward just to be standing there, your hands clutching the edge of the table while Wednesday had hers perfectly placed in front of her. It was the dynamic that you always noticed; one neat, one... not so neat, but she tries.

It was peaceful, peaceful enough for the party scene going on around the two of you, until a certain someone showed up. Holding himself a drink and his hands digging in his pockets.

"Surprised to see you guys here." Ajax approached you, giving the both of you a slight nod of acknowledgment while you just smiled. You didn't know if Wednesday gave him a scowl or just plain-out ignored him.

"Hey, 'Jax. Not surprised you're here." you replied with the friendliest smile you could give to a guy like him. Not like you hated him, you just wanted to be with Wednesday without any company as of now.

Ajax shifted slightly under Wednesday's gaze, discomfort crossing his features before he recovered with a casual shrug. "Figured I'd join in before exams start," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm surprised Wednesday took you out instead of the other way round."

Your eyes lit up, finally having a topic you'd enjoy. "Well, she actually—"

"I have to prevent her from getting into trouble like the last very few times. A roommate is only someone with the same residence space, nothing more and nothing less. Far than a friend."

Oh, right.

"Right," you replied, pulling your lips to a thin line to mask the disappointment you felt. "Just roommates."

It stung, sure.

Yeah, that's it. It just stung. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Could've gone without the last few sentences." You mumbled to yourself, your voice brittle.

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Hearing the girl who you convinced yourself to be your forever and the love of your life dismiss your relationship with her as something no more than roommates and less than friends felt like shit. But it was fine. You weren't dealing with a fuck ton of relationship baggage and having to lie that all your 'I love you's' to her were just something to keep whatever you guys have going on light just for you to cry about something like that. Even when you could and would.

But having to stare from the sidelines at a guy flirting with said love of your life with a punch clenched around your palms a little bit too tight that you went over to just for her. Worst is, you knew the guy for being a stuck-up dickhead who has his own cock far up his head.

Oh, how you hated Xavier Thorpe.

Fuckzone is bad enough, but friendzoned? Completely-abolished-by-some-random-dudezoned? But for the record, you too were aimlessly flirting around with another guy for her attention instead of making out with her in some remote area. Maybe this was the karma everyone was talking about.

"People say if you stare at him for a while longer his head might start going in circles."

"Holy shit!" You turned around, a bit spooked, but it was just Enid. The bright bubbly sunshine you always needed in times when you were surrounded by whatever thoughts you were thinking about. "Hey, E."

Enid grinned, showing that infectious smile she carried. "You know Wednesday won't go after him. Especially him." The two of you looked at the guy, ruffling his hand in between the strands of hair while he talked to Wednesday. Who wasn't paying the slightest attention at all.

You let out a forced chuckle, appreciating Enid's attempt to lighten the mood. "I'm not—I'm not worried about that."

"Then why are you staring daggers at him like how Wednesday does to everybody?" She stood by you, side by side, her hands tight behind her back. But you couldn't really tell her that you and Wednesday are friends with benefits.

"It's just—"

You started, almost started. Until the words got stuck in your throat when you saw how Xavier led Wednesday to the dance floor, his eyes stuck on hers while she reluctantly followed him. How he tried to get Wednesday to dance along with him, his lips curving into an awkward grin.

"It's nothing." You nodded slowly, trying to tear your eyes away from the sight of Wednesday with Xavier, but your efforts were drained.

"I'll head back early, Enid. Sorry to bother your night with all this."You handed your cup to Enid, her hand hesitating to grab your cup. You could see how she offered a sympathetic look, her hand almost reaching out for your own.

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"I didn’t see you when I returned."

The door slowly closed behind Wednesday, and you could hear everything down from her steps to her breathing as she changed into her usual clothing.

You were slumped over a chair, pretending to do your homework for the first time, but it was just a ruse. You were just staring at a piece of paper, the words slowly starting to morph into Xavier and Wednesday's names side by side in your vision.

"Probably because you were seeing someone else." You muttered, bitterness leaving a trail of venom in your words as you turned around in your chair.

Sure it was childish, you knew Wednesday was never going to accept him as a love interest. But neither is she going to accept you.

Wednesday raised an eyebrow, her features scrunching up as she observed you.

"Nothing. I just wanted to...” Your jaw clenched. Think of a lie. Lie, lie, lie. “Just wanted to take a rest. I’ve been going to a lot of parties this month, you know? Also, the whole vibe wasn't really my thing."

Half true, half lie. Who even unironically says vibe anymore anyway? But you wouldn’t admit that you were jealous because Wednesday was just talking to some dude and Enid brings up some spur-of-the-moment bullshit that lead you to this situation. You don't blame her, though.

For a moment, you thought Wednesday saw through everything, Right through your soul by the way she walks towards you.

"I swear, I—" Your words got caught off as soon as Wednesday's lips touched yours. Her fingers tracing your jawline as she leaned towards you, pulling you in as her hand trailed along the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

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Wednesday regretted how she kissed you, once again. How she felt pity when your voice dwindled to a mumble, something she found unsettling considering how you were always someone who had joy written all over her face and her heart on her sleeve.

She kissed you, over and over again. Her lips onto yours, yours onto hers. She knew she had you wrapped around her finger, how you also had her wrapped around yours. How her bed always felt warm with you in it, how her world started to flicker with colors she never saw before, how her soul melted by the touch of your hand.

By the time you pulled away from the kiss, Wednesday was in awe of how you were something she'd cherish if it wasn't for her internal argument with herself when it comes to you. Her thoughts that consumed her till the very end.

"Wednesday," she heard you breathe, her body on top of yours, "Do you..."

Don't say it. Don't say it, don't say it, don't—

"Don't say it."

She murmured, by accident. She didn't mean to say it out loud. Her eyes went wide, while yours went dark. Almost like hers, even.

"Yeah, right." You whispered, she could tell you were disappointed. Or even angry, or upset.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.

She could almost say.

You don't know how much I love you.

But she didn't. She wouldn't.

[itsjustrosee]

HIII I'VE BEEN SO INLOVE WITH YOUR WRITINGS SO FAR 🙏

since your request is open I'm hoping you can write this for me (I cannot express my thoughts to a full on fan fiction to save my life💀)

Request: so like reader is a runner. Minho and reader were running away from a griever like frantically trying to lose it then Minho suddenly pulled reader to a small crack on the wall so they would lose the griever. The griever was just around the area trying to find the two that's why both of the runners were just there in the crack, close together, litterly body to body😼 and you know some friction started to happen 🔥but of course they just can't do the thing😣 in the maze💀 so like after the griever was gone they both ran to the Glade and ykykyk they continued what they started🤡

If you don't get it basically smut☹️

Hehee thank youu in advance😘😘😘!!!

literally love this concept, and I will gladly accept ur request <3

SMALL SPACES (Minho x fem!reader)

Summary: look above for summary ^ (I made this enemies to lovers btw I'm sorry I couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Cursing, spice, smut (I don't really use the glade language in this one)

Word count: 4.6K (proofread, but there still might be some mistakes)

Today was like any normal day for you. You woke up at the ass crack of dawn, sloppily put on your clothes, and excited your hut. You walked across the glade, taking in the rather peaceful atmosphere while you looked up to see the sun peeking over the maze walls.

"God, mornings really aren't your thing, huh? You look like shit." Minho chuckled as you approached him while he stood waiting for the maze doors to open. He wore his signature blue shirt, which was paired with his infamous runners' vest.

Minho stood there with that shit-eating grin on his face as you stood next to him, rubbing your eyes and stretching as you let out a groan.

Since coming to the glade as a girl, all the boys have been nice to you and dare you say, rather respectful. All of them except for Minho. You never knew what you had done that warranted Minho's hatred for you, but it didn't matter because the feeling was reciprocated.

You really only needed to deal with Minho's attitude or rude comments when you both were running the maze together, which, unfortunately, was quite often. You came to the conclusion pretty early on that the worst part of being a runner wasn't the concept of getting trapped in the maze or being eaten alive with a griever, it was dealing with Minho's bitch ass.

"Not even a good morning. Starting the day off strong I see." You sigh, glaring at Minho while he checks the time. The doors should be opening soon and you wished that Ben and the other runners hadn't gotten totally hung over from the bonfire last night, resulting in them being in the medhut this morning with some really strong headaches. And it was because of that that only you and Minho would be running the maze together today.

"You know me," Minho replies while giving you a wink. You scoff at him, reminiscing about how you'd much rather be where you were ten minutes ago, sleeping in bed. "You know which parts of the maze we're running today right?" Minho asked, changing the subject.

"Yup, the outskirts of section six." You say as you roll your eyes, not bothering to mask the attitude in your voice. You put your hands on your hips, facing the maze while tapping your foot on the ground impatiently. You were ready for the maze doors to open so you could stop having to talk to Minho.

You knew yourself and you knew you wouldn't be able to stand talking to Minho much longer without giving in to the strong urge you had to maul him. But maybe then you'd finally be able to ruin his perfect hair.

I mean, how dare he have the nerve to wake up this early in the morning and look so put together. It wasn't fair.

"Well, someone's more grumpy than usual," Minho says, noticing the slight scowl you have on your face.

"I'm not grumpy." You reply while continuing to stare at the maze doors.

"Right," Minho says sarcastically before continuing, "You're going to get wrinkles if you keep making that face. Just letting you know." Minho explains as he lifts up his hand and brings it towards your face. He's about to tuck a fallen piece of your hair back behind your ear and you feel a faint blush beginning to spread on your cheeks. For a second, you're tempted to let him, but that's until you come back to your senses, slapping his hand away as you do so.

"You just love pissing me off, don't you Minho?" you snap at him as you turn to face him.

"I'd say I love seeing your reaction to me pissing you off much more," Minho replies with a smirk as he stands confidently, bringing his hands up to his chest and latching his fingers onto the snug space between his runners' vest and his shirt.

"What, seeing me get mad?"

"No," Minho says while taking a step towards you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer, his face now mere inches away from yours. "Seeing when I get you flustered." Minho finishes as he towers over you.

You look at him, shocked, and quite frankly, very bewildered.

Was he right? Yes, he definitely was, but you'd rather get stung by a griever than openly admit to that.

Nonetheless, it's safe to say his comment was exactly helping to calm the heat you felt on your cheeks from before now spreading like wildfire across your face.

You opened your mouth to say something in reply which would've been some sort of string of insults at Minho, but before you could, you both turned your attention to the maze doors which began to open. The stone screeched as whatever mechanism was built into the maze pulled the doors apart, revealing the maze and its seemingly infinite number of twists and turns.

As the doors came to a halt, a cold gust of air that the maze emitted whenever the doors opened or right before they closed, hit you and Minho. No matter how many times you felt it, it never failed to give you goosebumps all along your spine. The feeling of the wind on your skin made you remember the fact Minho's hand was gripped firmly around your wrist. And for some reason, instead of deciding to pull your wrist free right away, you decided to let him keep his hand there.

You exhaled a long and deep breath, one that you didn't even know you were holding in. You decided not to say anything else about what Minho had just said for the sake of being scared of where the conversation might lead.

So without warning, you jogged into the maze, pulling your wrist away and leaving Minho behind you.

"Hey wait up. Where do you think you're going?" Minho asked breaking into a sprint to catch up with you as you made sharp turns around corners of the maze.

"Where do you think?" You counter with an irritated voice.

"You know how to get to section six?" Minho questioned again, jogging up next to you.

You rolled your eyes but remained quiet. Speaking to Minho right now was taking up too much of your energy. All you wanted to do was stay quiet and focus on actually doing your job.

"Oh, so you're ignoring me now?"

Silence

"Fine. If that's what you want. No more talking." Minho said with an exasperated sigh.

And that's how the majority of the day continued. You and Minho mapped any remaining parts of the sixth section, though there wasn't really anything new to jot down, and stayed silent.

Even while you and Minho sat and ate lunch, neither of you spoke. You were determined to not be the one to break the silence and to be quite honest, you appreciated the quiet. But part of you missed the banter that you and Minho would get into. It helped you cope with the fact that almost the entire maze was mapped but there still didn't seem like a way out. And all in all, to you, your bickering and arguing could actually be quite fun at times, and it distracted you from having an existential crisis.

As hours began passing, you and Minho drew your searches for new areas of the maze to a close and began heading back towards the glade. You were beginning your trip back far earlier than normal, considering you were far out in the maze and not very close to the glade. If anything, it would be better to get out of the maze early than have the doors close before you could get back in the glade.

You jogged through the seemingly endless turns of the maze. Both you and Minho had gotten tired from today's work. You felt your legs burn and your energy dwindled with each stride you took toward the maze's doors.

You both couldn't have been too far from the glade when you heard it. Maybe you were ten or so turns until you reached the door, standing in a path that branched out in three different directions. One path was to your left, one to your right, and one straight ahead of you. You and Minho planned on taking the one straight in front of you to get back to the glade. However, you stopped dead in your tracks after hearing that sound, one in which you knew all too well.

The blood-curdling screech pierced the air, echoing along the walls as you and Minho just stood there. The worst part wasn't hearing the griever, but more the fact that it was far closer to you than you had anticipated.

You looked at Minho for some sort of reassurance. You wanted to convince yourself that maybe you were just hearing things, maybe you were actually just going crazy. Unfortunately, Minho's expression stayed stoic but you could see the fear in his eyes which honestly scared you more. Minho had been a runner for a while, much longer than you, so to see his carefree attitude change to something more wary and serious was new for you.

After standing in that spot for a couple moments, unable to move any part of your body, all of your worst fears were confirmed as you saw a griever turn a corner and run down the long passage of the maze that was in front of you.

Your breath hiched and for a split second, all you could do was stare. Stare at this disgusting, gruesome, and fucking terrifying creature. It was as if someone picked up a monster from your nightmares, something only your imagination would be able to conjure up, and placed it right in front of you. Something as horrifying as whatever the fuck that creature was, shouldn't have ever existed. But it did. And it was headed straight towards you.

Unlike you, Minho reacted quicker upon seeing the griever. "Come on. We need to go. Now!" Minho yelled, grabbing your wrist as he sprinted down the corridor to your right. Seeing the griever was all you needed to regain all the energy you had lost from running all day, and you quickly followed suit after Minho.

You ran as if your life depended on it, and in this case, it did. Literally.

Minho held onto your wrist tightly as he led you through the maze, the griever was hot on your tail and you both knew you wouldn't be able to outrun it for much longer.

Minho led you both into a different passage and ran down it frantically. Suddenly he pulled you into what could've been considered as a crack in the wall.

Most of the passageways in the maze ranged in various different widths. Some corridors were larger or smaller than others, but the one he had pulled you into had been smaller than you could've ever imagined. It would've been easier if you had gone in side-by-side, but at this point, that was a bit of an afterthought. Minho placed you in front of him as you both squeezed into the passage, desperate to escape the griever.

Your backs were up against opposing walls of the crevice, causing your chests to be pressed against one anothers. His hands were now placed firmly on your hips, pushing you into him as he attempted to eliminate more space around you in order to shuffle both of you further into the slit in the wall.

To be fair, you had to give Minho some credit because the griever wasn't able to reach either of you and trust me, it tried. Even as it left, both you and Minho knew it would still remain in the area, waiting for them to leave, so they would just have to wait it out.

You waited there for at least an hour already and the only issue was, of course, the lack of space. You had your hands on Minho's chest while his were gripped tightly around your waist, all while you did your best to keep your face away from his.

You would be lying if you said the tension in the air wasn't palpable.

Heat radiated off of Minho's body and beads of sweat laced your forehead. You didn't know how you could last another minute, let alone possibly another hour with your body pressed against his like this.

"It's only going to get more awkward if you don't say anything," Minho said while sighing, finally breaking the silence that had filled the air for some time. For the first time since you both got into this mess, you looked at him.

He looked just as tense as you did and you felt something in the atmosphere between the two of you shift. There was more of a longingness in the air, almost as if there was some sort of unspoken tension between the both of you.

"I don't get you Minho." You said as Minho gave you a confused look and you weren't quite too sure what you were going with it either, but you continued nonetheless, "It's like one day you hate me, then the next you're flirting with me. Seriously, is it just to tease me? Do you just like getting any sort of reaction out of me?" You said as the words just began to spill out of your mouth.

"I don't hate you," Minho replied, clenching his jaw. It almost seemed as if there was more he wanted to say but there was something that had stopped him from saying it.

"Then what is it Minho? What's your problem?" You asked with anger in your voice which was mixed for some reason with a twinge of sadness.

"The problem is that I like you (Y/N). I like everything about you." The look in his eyes matched the sadness you felt as he continued, "I've liked you for the longest time. I never said anything about it because I'm basically your boss and I didn't want to make things weird. I know that doesn't excuse me for being a dick but-" He paused, "I'm sorry. I mean it, I really am."

You looked at him, stunned once more by his words. Like a dam, all of the feelings you've had towards Minho flowed out at once. You had always vowed that you never liked Minho, not even as a person, but you knew that was far from the truth. Minho was the only boy in the glade that you had ever felt attracted to and it was safe to say the both of you had been denying that feeling for the longest time.

"Please, say something," Minho pleaded with you, looking down into your bright (E/C) eyes.

You wanted to say something. Really you did. But you just couldn't find the right words to say, so you didn't say anything at all. Instead, you kissed him. I mean, actions speak louder than words anyways, right?

You closed the small gap your face had with Minhos as you crashed your lips into his. Minho quickly got over his shock and reciprocated the kiss. In all truth, kissing Minho felt exactly as you dreamed it would. He was gentle yet passionate with you and if one thing was sure, he definitely took his time with you, savoring every part of your mouth as you allowed his tongue to enter it.

Minho drew away from you for a moment, "So I'm guessing you don't hate me anymore?" He asked, his lips already swollen from kissing you.

"We'll see about that." You answered with a cheeky grin on your face as he kissed you once more.

You melted into his touch even further than before, snaking your hands around his neck while he pulled you closer to him. As the kiss continued, it became more desperate and hungry, and neither of you could hold yourself back from each other.

At that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the fact that a griever was trying to kill you, or even that you were stuck in a giant maze. The only thing that mattered to you right now was Minho.

Minho drew away, biting your bottom lip as he continued to kiss you down your jaw and Neck, making you pull your head back slightly and moan. You felt Minho get hard under you, and it wasn't helping that the bulge from his jeans was positioned right by your throbbing core.

Though you could've stayed there, letting Minho kiss you all over, your mind reminded you of where you actually were. Part of you wanted to say fuck it, I'll take Minho right here and right now, but the more logical part of your brain knew you needed to get out of the maze now before the doors closed. And by now, the griever should've been long gone.

"Minho," you said breathlessly as he looked back at you after leaving marks all over your neck and collarbone. "We need to get back to the glade." You finish. You could see the look in his eyes and clearly, he had the same moral dilemma as you did a moment ago.

"Right- yeah, you're right let's go," Minho replied as you both did your best to squeeze out of the tiny crevice you had both wriggled yourselves into. Minho checked for the griever and thankfully it was nowhere to be seen.

Minho interlocked his fingers with yours as you ran through the maze, navigating its bends and corners. His grip was firm and protective and he was extra alert, checking behind and in front of you every so often.

Eventually, you both found yourself back in the glade with barely any time to spare. You let out a sigh of relief as you stepped onto the bright green grass, putting your head down and letting go of Minhos hand as you placed your hands on your knees while you panted.

The doors let out that familiar gust of wind and began to move once more, closing you into the glade for yet another night.

"What happened to you guys? We thought a griever got to you or something," Newt joked, walking up to you and Minho by the maze doors. You could tell a wave of relief passed over his face as he saw you both exit the maze and after he noticed that neither you nor Minho were injured.

You stood up straight again, putting your hands on your hips and giving Minho a look. You were about to tell Newt about the very close-to-death experience you and Minho just had, but before you could say anything, Minho spoke first, "Nope, we just spent too much time exploring. We made a lot of progress though." He lied.

You gave him a puzzled look. You both definitely did not make 'a lot of progress', not unless he defined 'a lot of progress' as rerunning areas of the maze you had already seen and mapped.

"We did?" You asked looking at Minho but he cut you off slightly as he continued.

"Yup, we did," Minho said grabbing your wrist and walking past Newt, "That's why we need to go to the maze room now," Minho concluded.

"Don't you guys want to eat something? Fry just made his stew, I'm sure you both are hungry by now," Newt asked, a little confused over Minho's urgency. For a while, Minho had started just grabbing a bite to eat before going to the maze room or bringing some food to the maze room as he mapped, but apparently, today was different.

"We're okay. Thanks though Newt." Minho said, still dragging you away as he waved goodbye to Newt who was left just standing there looking just as confused as you were.

After you both walked far enough away from Newt, Minho's grip on your wrist softened slightly, and soon you were both almost at the maze room.

"So are you going to tell me what that was about?" You questioned.

"Oh come on. Do you really think I'm going to let you get away with not finishing something you started?" Minho asked, pulling you into the maze room, closing the door, and sitting you down on the table in the center of the room. He stood in between your legs as he placed both of his hands on your hips, leaning his face into yours, leaving barely any room between your lips.

You chuckle slightly while looking at him, "A little eager aren't we?" You ask him while you place one of your hands on his nape and the other on his cheek.

"How could I not be? I've waited far too long for this," Minho counters, one of his hands traveling up your side as the other stayed on your hip.

You thought the tension was heavy in the maze, but now it had grown ten times greater in here.

A deep sense of longing and desperation filled the air as you looked at Minho again, meeting his eyes as you spoke, "You're not the only one who's been waiting."

And with that, Minho's lips found yours. You clung to him as you wrapped both of your hands around his neck. Minho reciprocated as he wrapped one of his arms around your back, bringing you even closer to him, while his other hand allowed itself to travel under the back of your shirt and up your spine. The feeling of his hand lingering up and down your spine sent shockwaves through your entire body.

Minho began kissing you hungrily and passionately, and being the sexually deprived teenager he was, he already grew hard again. You felt the bulge from his jeans press against your heat and you soon began to long for more of him.

You and Minho were quick to take your hands off of each other for a moment to take off your runners' harnesses. Your shirts were on the ground soon after, and you couldn't help but stare at Minho's figure as he stood in front of you.

God, this man was the definition of hot.

The way the muscles on his bicep flexed as he took off his shirt was quite possibly the most attractive thing you've ever seen. Not to mention that each and every one of his muscles was toned and defined.

Minho noticed your eyes linger on him, "Someone's staring." Minho stated as he lifted your chin up with his fingers, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans with his free hand while he did so.

"Can you blame me?" You ask, taking off your shorts and letting them fall on the ground, "You're hot Minho. I can't help but stare." You say as you begin to sit up straight. You tilted your head and placed your arms around his neck once more, staring up at him with a puppy dog-eyed expression.

Minho, who clearly isn't used to receiving praise for his looks, is floored. It's safe to say the compliment went straight to his dick because you could feel him grow even harder under you. You chuckle as you kiss Minho once more and this time, he melts into your touch completely.

Minho moves one of his hands to your back, the other moving up your thigh until it reaches your soaked panties. He moves them to the side so that he has access to your pussy and he places two of his fingers between your folds, rubbing you up and down.

A moan escapes from between your lips as you throw your head back, relying on the arms you have wrapped around Minho's neck and the hand he has on your back for support.

"So wet for me already," Minho chuckles to himself as he continues rubbing circles into your clit. Suddenly, he pushes one of his fingers into you, causing your body to jolt in pleasure and surprise.

He adds in his other finger and begins pumping them in and out of you, agonizingly slow. As if a reflex, you roll your hips against his hand and moan his name. You fail to suppress your soft whimpers as he picks up the pace, making you drown in pleasure.

"Minho please, I want you." You breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Want me to do what baby?" Minho asks as you bring your head back up to look at him.

"I want you inside me." You confess. "Please," you whimper, on the verge of begging him.

Minho kisses you softly as he takes his fingers out of you and you use your elbows to prop yourself up. Minho pulled his boxers down so they pooled at his ankles and his cock sprang out, hitting his stomach as he did so. His cock was long and hard as beads of precum dripped down from his tip. Fuck he was massive.

Minho lined himself up with your entrance and with one swift push, he entered you fully. You gasped as you sunk into him further. Your walls stretched around his girth and the quick pain you felt as he made his way inside you was quickly replaced by pleasure.

"Fuck- you're so big," You moaned out, as Minho began his thrusts.

He groaned as he began moving in and out of you. The pleasure both of you felt was unmatched as Minho gripped your hips, using them to help guide his movements.

"God you feel so good," Minho panted as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

Minho kisses you again, messily and sloppily as he continues with his movements, but neither of you can focus on kissing the other, not when he is pumping in and out of you. You couldn't help but savor what it felt like with him inside you. The way he filled you up made you feel like you were on cloud 9.

Minho kept mumbling out words of praise while he moved in and out of you and he could tell by the way your walls began to squeeze around him, that you were close. And you could tell that he was close by the way that his thrusts began growing more sloppy and desperate. But maybe it was him removing one of his hands from your hip to apply more pressure to your clit as he rubbed circles into it, that pushed you over the edge.

"Minho I'm going t-" You began to say as your voice broke but you couldn't finish your sentence before letting out a loud moan. A wave of ecstasy crashed over you all at once and you threw your head back in pleasure.

Minho groaned as he pushed into you with one final thrust, filling you up completely. It took a moment with the both of you panting before he pulled out.

You sat up straight as Minho brought his head towards your ear, "You did so well, you know that, right, baby?" Minho whispered before meeting your eyes. You gave him a smile and he gave you a soft kiss. "Want to grab some food and then cuddle in my hut for the night?" Minho asked as he pulled away, picking up his scatted clothes and putting them back on.

"Mhm," You replied with a smile. Today was quite an eventful day and to be honest you were exhausted and Minho picked up on it.

"Are you tired?" Minho questioned as he grabbed your remaining clothing and put it back on you while you yawned.

"Just a bit," You replied with a chuckle as you hopped down from the table.

"We can go to be early tonight then," Minho said while wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you outside the maze room. You pecked him on the cheek as you both walked off.

____

Bonus

"Hey Minho I know it's your day off but I can't find (Y/N) anywhere. I checked her hut and then thought maybe you'd know wher-" Newt paused as he barged into Minho's hut to see Minho now sitting straight up in his bed. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to your neck?" Newt asked, referring to the very obvious hickies you had ended up leaving Minho.

Minho was struggling for a response as you emerged from under the sheets in Minhos t-shirt, rubbing your eyes and looking over at Newt.

Newt looked at you both, bewildered and flustered as the dots finally connected in his brain. "You know what- Never mind. I'll leave you guys to it. Didn't mean to interrupt." Newt replied quickly, slamming the door on his way out of the hut.

You huffed and rolled back on your side in hopes of getting a bit more sleep. Minho gladly wrapped his arms around you and joined you.

Ok, this might be my favorite fic I've written so far. I'm really happy with how it turned out and I hope you guys like it too!!

Also, thank you guys again for all of the overwhelming support I've been getting. And thank you guys for 30 followers!!!!!!!!! I can't thank you guys enough for how kind you've all been, but seriously you're all so amazing and so sweet.

[turtletaubwrites]

One Piece x Introverted!Reader (pt. 1?)

Thank you anon for this request! This is my first time writing headcanons, so I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Headcanons and drabbles for Zoro, Sanji, and Robin with an introverted partner.

Word Count: 1327

Rating/Warnings: SFW, Just Fluff, maybe a smidgen of Angst, Alcohol

A/N: I've had to start splitting my posts from the ask, tumblr was flipping out every time I was editing. I hope you don't mind I've started linking them instead!

Zoro

Zoro enjoys this part of you, and you find an easy rhythm with each other.

You can spend hours near each other without speaking, and it feels comfy and safe. Reading a book, or working on your own tasks while he works out is an almost daily ritual (taking plenty of breaks to watch him, of course). 

During the many feasts and celebrations that seem to occur, Zoro tends to loosen up more with booze, and he’ll wrap his arm around you during conversations. He’s gotten to know your body language well, and even drunk, he’d notice if you were uncomfortable or worn out. He wouldn’t even make an excuse or say goodbye to the group, he’d just drag you (or pick you up) and find a quiet spot to relax together. Preferably with a bottle of sake.

If Zoro notices you having trouble speaking to people in public, he might try to find ways to help you feel stronger without bringing it up directly, like teaching you breathing exercises, or power stances, etc.

“Why are you teaching me this?” “So you can feel, uh… Well, you’re a pirate. Pirates need to breathe… good.”

Drabble

“You okay?”

You pulled your hands away from your temples, the dull headache still creeping on you. Zoro sat beside you, spreading his legs out on the dirt, his back against the large tree.

The rest of the crew was laughing around the fire, another triumph to celebrate with the locals. 

“It’s just been a long day. I’ll be good in a minute.”

He hummed, setting his hand out between you in case you wanted to hold it. You did. 

“You don’t have to. They’re too loud anyway.”

Your lips pulled into a small, but grateful smile as you leaned onto his warm shoulder. His fingers squeezed yours gently, before his other hand brought a bottle to his lips. 

He gestured it toward you, and you hummed your ‘no’ before letting your eyes close.

Zoro’s quiet warmth beside you filled you up. You never felt like a burden with him. He would just join you, as if it was normal. 

“Thank you.”

He huffed a laugh, voice low.

“Like I said, those idiots are too loud. I’d rather be here with you.”

Sanji

Sanji prides himself on meeting your every need, but it would take some practice for him to figure it out, unless you’re clear with him.

He wants to spoil you, to show you off, to bring you out on dates at every island.

If you’re not open with him about your needs to recharge, and he sees you getting drained with him, he might get worried. He'd wonder what he’s doing wrong, and would overcompensate.

Eventually he’d connect the dots, but if you just tell him then he’ll cater to you. He wants you to feel cherished, and he won’t mind making changes for you, as long as he knows what you need.

But he will have a hard time not showering you with compliments all day, often in front of strangers and even enemies. 

“My sunshine, my darling. You look so gorgeous under the stars like this. Don’t mind them, I’ll kick their asses so I can get back to worshiping you.”

Sanji would take note of all the things that comfort you. Whatever items like books, sweaters, fidgets, etc, and he would make sure to have them in reach for you if he saw your tells.

He’d also love whisking you away from any situation. If he noticed your demeanor shift, or if you leaned against him and whispered that you needed to leave, he would make up any excuse to get you out of there.

“My sweetheart needs some tea, we’ll catch up with you later. No Usopp, you don’t get any tea, go away.”

Drabble

“My love, is this dinner not to your liking? We can go back to the ship, I’ll make you whatever you like.”

“No Sanji, it’s delicious,” you said with a weak smile, guilt riding you for your drop in mood in the middle of the date he’d set up in the local town.

The look of concern on his face made you sigh. 

Why do I always have to bring people down?

“Please, mon coeur, tell me if there’s something bothering you. Is it something I’ve done?” 

“No, Sanji, I’m so sorry. I just have a hard time around a lot of people for too long. I love our date, I just get drained sometimes. I’m sor–”

“Don’t be sorry, dear. How about we take this to go? We can eat at the park on the way, or back at the ship? Whatever you need.”

The hurt and concern was gone from his face, replaced by a soft smile that made you lift your eyes to the ceiling to stop the hint of tears from welling up.

“I’m sorry I ruined–”

“Mon amour, I won’t listen to another word of that.”

His tone was firm as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, almost a fierceness in his eyes now.

“And I will boil anyone that’s made you feel this way before. I’m happy with you anywhere. As long as you’re happy.”

You bit your quivering lip, trying not to think of partners in the past that had gotten angry at you when you’d need a break, when you didn’t want to go out. 

Sanji was different. Now that he knew, he checks in, he makes changes, and that pressure you used to feel is fading. 

“Anything you need, my love.”

Robin

You’d never have to worry, Robin is always your safe haven.

Even around the rest of the crew, Robin seems to have a quiet little corner, and you can sit with her, recharging as she reads, sending you a gentle smile now and then.

At parties, Robin will catch your gaze, often pulling you away from the group to go explore the area on your own. Always hunting for books, pets, and cozy spots.

If Robin notices you’re uncomfortable with people near you, she’d literally spawn arms on you to push them back a bit. Usually would only do this within the crew, and everyone would laugh while she pulled you away from the more rambunctious crew members. (i.e. Luffy hanging on you, and yelling directly in your ear, lol)

Robin is an introvert, and she’s found a great balance for herself. She helps you figure out what you need, and what your limits are, and it feels wonderful to have someone understand and support you so well

She’s the best girl 🥰

Drabble

“Mmhm,” you nodded, sipping your drink as Nami and Usopp chatted with the group’s new friends.

You hadn’t been able to chat for awhile now, brain slowly slinking back in your skull with guilt as you tried to keep a friendly look on your face.

You coughed to cover a gasp, the group turning to focus on you.

“Uh, excuse me. I’m going to grab another drink.”

The arm that had spawned on your back to tap gently on your shoulder tapped again until you turned to that side. There was Robin, smiling at you as she sat at the bottom of a staircase.

Letting out a strained breath, you made your way to her, already feeling lighter.

“Care to take a break with me, darling?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, kissing her cheek as you sat beside her.

Robin leaned against you, people watching as you closed your eyes for a while. Now and then she would let out a soft hum or a low chuckle, and you grinned. Robin saw so much, and you loved to hear what she learned from people just by watching them. 

There was no pressure to return to the group. You could stay and watch with Robin, you could head back to the ship. You could do whatever felt best, and Robin would still be Robin. She’d still smile at you, just like this.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think, normally I just write a whole ass thing, lol

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[iliketangerines]

Just wanted to say I Love your content and one shots. I saw your movie Lao one shots and um may I request a movie kung Lao x kitsune Arcana reader? Like rivals to lovers NSFW? Only if you're comfortable with it of course.

claws in you

a/n: ummm, uhhh, i kind of had a headache while writing this

pairing: kung lao x kitsune!afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), pussy slapping

you swish your tail behind you as you stare at Kung Lao sparring against Liu Kang effortlessly, not a single drop of sweat on his face

he smirks at you, as he dodges another kick from Liu Kang, and he quickly takes advantage of the fire-wielder’s momentary imbalance to knock him over

Kung Lao pins his friend to the ground, telling him to yield, and Liu Kang struggles to try and find any openings, yielding when he realizes that there are none

the monk smile triumphantly, standing up and helping him to his feet, before looking to where you are in the stands

there’s a scowl on your face, and you look rather irritated

Kung Lao knew why, no one had ever beaten him in a spar before, not even you, favored by Lord Raiden and Lord Fujin

it irritated you to no end because no one had ever beaten you, and it brought great pride to Kung Lao to know he was the only one who could beat you in a fight

you turned around, tail whipping angrily, and stalked off into the winding halls of dust, and Kung Lao watched you saunter off, admiring the curve of your ass underneath your uniform

you disliked him and he disliked you all the same, your bratty attitude, your perfect princess facade you put up, fake and disconcerting

but he supposed it made the sex all the better, when he would spit out insults at you and your personality and you would dig into his skin and snarl

Kung Lao doesn’t remember how exactly the affair had started between you two, perhaps during a heated argument where he had gotten too close and then you angrily kissed him

well, it didn’t matter, not when it managed to get the both of you and release the frustration between the two of you

and, now Kung Lao follows you back to your room, footsteps quiet, but he knows you can hear him with the way your hips sway and your ears twitch in his direction

you open up your room door, leaning it for him to shut as he walks in and finds you glaring daggers into his head

then you lunge at him, tearing at his clothes and mouth pressing into his sharp and heavy as your fangs dig into his bottom lip

he grabs onto your neck, growling and pulling your neck back to get you calm down, but you pull against his warning and continue to undress him

Kung Lao hears the familiar sound of his clothes ripping, and he grabs onto your wrists, stopping you

you had ripped too many of his clothes already, and he was done with it

throwing you onto the bed, Kung Lao nearly tore off your bottoms as he quickly undressed you, hand firmly wrapped around your tail to keep you under control

no matter how much of a facade you put on, one tug to your tail and you were under his thumb in an instant, it was almost funny how easily he broke you with that simple motion

but you can still growl at him, and so that’s what you do as you spit insults at him, calling him some arrogant bastard with a dumb bladed hat

Kung Lao keeps you on your back, hands moving so that one lightly wraps around your throat, not enough to choke you but enough to remind you of your place

his other hand moves between your legs, rubbing your clit, and his hips settle between your legs so that you can’t move them

your fox ears twitch as you bite your lip to stifle a whimper, and Kung Lao smirks at you, telling you to let it out, he already knows you’re a whore so why try to hide it

it brings an ugly scowl to your face, but Kung Lao can feel how much wetter you got at the degradation

and so he just laughs in your face, continuing to rub your clit in fast tight circles and bringing you to the edge of your peak as quick as he can

you’re failing at hiding the small whimpers leaving your throat, and it amuses Kung Lao

but he has other plans tonight: he wants to hear you scream and beg for mercy

so Kung Lao keeps bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy and then he pulls away, making you widen your eyes in surprise and then bare your fangs in anger

you go to scratch at his arm holding your neck, to snarl and spit insults, but then he brings his hand on your pussy, slapping it

it makes you let out a sound of muted pain and surprise as you stare up at him, hands on his arm but with no real purpose as your mind goes blank

he tells you to submit, and you seem to regain your senses and hatred for him, clawing at his arms with your long nails

Kung Lao had expected it as much, welcoming your behavior with a large smile as he brings his hand down again on your clit and listening to the sharp whine of pain you gave

you grit your teeth and say you’ll never submit to him, and he tuts at you with a grin, saying then you won’t be getting anything tonight

that’s a lie, evident in the way his cock bulges in his pants and how his cognitive abilities are slowly disappearing as more blood rushes downward

but you don’t know that, and you whine and growl all the same, squeezing your thighs around his waist

Kung Lao just gives your pussy another slap, making your back arch off the bed, and a loud keen leaves your throat as you glare and refuse to submit

and so he continues, bringing his hand down on your swollen and sensitive clit and listening to you cry out in pain and pleasure

you claw at his arms, hissing and growling and snarling at the beginning, but he can see the fractures in your annoyance start to show with each slap

the whines start to overcome your insults, and your eyes become glossy and clouded as you start to cry from the pain and the constant teetering on the edge of an orgasm

finally, you relent, digging your nails into his forearm and say you submit, and Kung Lao gives you a toothy smile, telling you to say that he is a better fighter than you

you give him a glare, but the effect is greatly ruined by your red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks running down your face

he presses his fingers into your sensitive clit, and you relent, mumbling out that he was a better fighter than you

Kung Lao gets closer, enough so that your breath tickled the hair strands that fell loose from his bun, and he mocked you, asking you to speak up

frustrated tears ran down your face and you nearly shouted that he was a better fighter and by the elder gods, just for him to fuck you already

it was all the confirmation that Kung Lao needed as he pulled down his pants and moved your legs so that the rested on his shoulders

he slid his cock between your folds, biting his lip at the feeling, and you squirmed impatiently

the monk paid no mind to your impatient, giving your thigh a firm squeeze to remind you of your place before he lined himself up and slowly pushed in

you let out a long drawn-out whine as he thrusts in, filling your every sense, and Kung Lao grunts as he bottoms out inside of you

you’re clenching around him desperately, and he presses his body forward so that the back of your knees meet your shoulders

he takes a second to let you adjust because even though he may hate you, this was supposed to be a pleasurable experience for you as well

the seconds tick by as you clench around him and your gasps fill the air when finally your breaths even out and calm, and then you’re demanding him to fuck you

Kung Lao chuckles, ever the brat you are, and so he starts a slow pace and then slowly quickening his pace until it’s the sound of wet slaps of your hips and his

your moans fill the room along with Kung Lao’s, and his hips grind against your clit with every thrust, making you whine and grip onto the sheets

you’re so beautiful like this, when you’re not insulting him and glaring at him, and Kung Lao can’t help but want to kiss you in this very moment

except he can’t do that, you would push him away at any sign of affection, and so he settles for calling you a whore, a slut for taking his cock so easy

perhaps insults were your love language because you let out a loud whine and your pussy clenches around him as he degrades you

the sound is filled with the lewd sound of your pussy and his thrusts into its wet heat, and Kung Lao’s not sure how much longer he can hold on

but it seems that you’re not going to hold on much longer with the way your whimpers are building in volume and how you’ve started to moan his name

Kung Lao grits his teeth as you clench down on him, cumming on his cock, and you’re so sweet and whiny and bratty and perfect

he groans as he buries himself deep and cums inside of you, grinding his hips against yours as he empties his seed inside of you

it’s just the sound of your mingled breaths as the both of you calm down from your highs, and then you’re pushing him off of you and cleaning yourself up

Kung Lao pulls up his pants, and he watches you dress yourself before you notice him still standing there and tell him to get the fuck out

and so he does just that, walking back through the winding halls and making a pit stop at the restrooms to clean himself up until he’s in front of his and Liu Kang’s shared room

he enters, kneeling down on his mat as Liu Kang finished up his meditation and looks at the frustrated monk

Liu Kang turns to face his friend, cocking his head at how Kung Lao has that furrow in his eyebrows again, and he moves so that he also sits on Kung Lao’s cot

bringing his thumb up, he massages out the furrow, and Kung Lao lets him, placing one of his hands on Liu Kang’s knee

Liu Kang asks what troubles his friend, and Kung Lao leans forward on his knees to press his forehead to Liu Kang’s, sighing

he doesn’t say anything for a while before muttering that he thinks that he may like you more than he thought he did before

Liu Kang smiles and laughs, pressing a quick kiss to Kung Lao’s lips and teasing him for not knowing earlier

Kung Lao rolls his eyes, still leaning forward for another taste of Liu Kang’s lips, and Liu Kang says he already told you that he liked you

perhaps it was time for Kung Lao to say what he really felt about you

[awkward-walking-potato]

Would you write another part to your story with mother nature reader and Logan please? Logan and her are in dire need of some sexy alone time, but Wade keeps cockblocking, they flee to her sanctuary (closing the door after them this time). Once there though, her dragon friend does the same wanting her attention and cuddles, ends up with Logan losing it and fighting the dragon, but he’s no match and the dragon just tosses him around like a rag doll and rather playing with him, I’d laugh my ass off if I’d see this 🤣. Ending with Logan being even more grumpy, frustrated, and embarrassed for losing. The reader is sorry for slightly finding it funny, kissing his boo-boos, and some passionate loving.

Wolverine x Mother Nature Reader - "Wild Interruptions”

The evening was supposed to be peaceful, a rare break from the chaos that usually surrounded the X-Men. You had spent most of the day thinking about Logan, missing his rough, steady presence and the way his touch always grounded you. It had been far too long since the two of you had a moment to yourselves, and tonight, you were determined to change that.

But, of course, that was easier said than done.

You and Logan had barely gotten through the door to your quarters when Wade, in his usual intrusive fashion, appeared out of nowhere, babbling about some ridiculous escapade he’d been on. He was oblivious—or maybe not so oblivious, given his smirk—to the tension between you and Logan, the way Logan’s hand was already sliding to your waist, his grip possessive and needing.

“Oh, hey, lovebirds! Mind if I join? I’ve got some great stories to tell!” Wade’s voice was as grating as ever, and you could practically feel Logan’s irritation rolling off him in waves.

“Wade,” Logan growled, his patience already threadbare. “Not now.”

“But, Logan, this is important!” Wade insisted, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You gotta hear about how I—”

“Out!” Logan snapped, his temper flaring. “Now.”

But Wade, as usual, didn’t take the hint. He kept yammering on, completely ignoring the way Logan’s claws had already begun to slide out, his entire body tense and ready to lunge.

You placed a calming hand on Logan’s chest, feeling the way his muscles were coiled tight with frustration. “Logan, let’s just go,” you murmured, trying to soothe him. “We can find somewhere else.”

Logan’s eyes flickered with barely restrained rage, but he nodded curtly. He knew better than to start something with Wade—it would only end in more headaches. With one last glare at Wade, Logan grabbed your hand and led you out of the room, his grip firm as he pulled you down the hallway.

You both made your way through the mansion, heading for the one place where you knew you’d have peace: your sanctuary deep within the woods. It was a place only you and Logan knew about, a hidden haven where the natural world thrived under your careful watch. The plants, trees, and creatures there responded to your presence, protecting and nurturing the space just as you did.

As you reached the edge of the sanctuary, you breathed a sigh of relief. The entrance was concealed by a thick curtain of vines, which parted at your command, revealing the lush greenery within. Logan followed close behind you, his usual scowl softening as he stepped into the calming embrace of nature.

Once inside, you waved a hand, and the vines closed behind you, sealing you both within the sanctuary. “Finally,” Logan grumbled, his voice low and rough. He pulled you close, his hands already roaming your body with a hunger that had been building for days.

You smiled, feeling a shiver of anticipation as his lips found your neck, trailing hot kisses down your skin. “We’re not getting interrupted this time,” you promised, your voice a sultry whisper. You guided him toward the soft grass, your heart racing as you began to shed the layers of clothing that separated you.

But just as things were getting heated, a deep rumble shook the ground beneath you. Logan froze, pulling back just as a massive shadow fell over the both of you. You sighed, recognizing the presence before you even turned around.

“Not now, Drac,” you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the enormous dragon looming behind you. Drac’s scales glinted in the dappled sunlight, his large, expressive eyes focused intently on you, brimming with affection and a childlike desire for attention.

The dragon let out a low, rumbling whine, nudging his snout against your shoulder. He was like an overgrown puppy, always seeking your love and attention. Usually, you welcomed his affection, but now was not the time.

Logan, on the other hand, was less than thrilled. His claws were already out, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the dragon with barely disguised annoyance. “Can’t catch a break, can we?” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

Before you could calm Logan down, Drac decided he wanted to play. The massive dragon nudged you aside gently, then turned his attention to Logan, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Drac, no—” you started, but it was too late.

With a playful growl, Drac pounced on Logan, his enormous paw batting at him with surprising gentleness. But Logan wasn’t in the mood for games. With a snarl, he leapt at the dragon, claws flashing in the sunlight.

Drac, however, thought this was all part of the fun. He swatted Logan aside with ease, sending him tumbling through the grass. Logan scrambled to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes as he charged at the dragon again. But no matter how fast Logan moved, Drac was always one step ahead, dodging or deflecting every attack with the ease of a creature that had lived for centuries.

What followed was a scene you never thought you’d witness: Wolverine, the fierce, indomitable warrior, being tossed around like a rag doll by a dragon that just wanted to play. Drac’s tail curled around Logan, lifting him off the ground and spinning him in circles before releasing him, sending him flying into a nearby tree.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from your chest. You quickly clapped a hand over your mouth, feeling guilty for finding humor in Logan’s predicament, but the sight was too much. Logan, usually so strong and unyielding, was completely outmatched by your playful dragon friend.

“Not funny,” Logan growled, pushing himself up from the ground, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He glared at Drac, who let out a snort that almost sounded like a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” you said, trying to stifle your laughter as you approached him. “He just… wanted to play.”

Logan grumbled something under his breath, wiping dirt from his face as he glared at the dragon, who was now lounging nearby, watching the two of you with an innocent look on his face.

You moved closer to Logan, your expression softening as you saw the small cuts and bruises on his skin. “Let me take care of that,” you murmured, your voice gentle.

He huffed, but didn’t pull away as you pressed soft kisses to the spots where Drac’s claws had nicked him, your lips lingering on his skin. His irritation began to melt away as you kissed each of his minor injuries, your touch soothing and affectionate.

“Didn’t think I’d be gettin’ my ass handed to me by a dragon today,” Logan muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone now.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “He didn’t mean any harm. And I think it’s cute when you’re all protective,” you teased lightly, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.

Logan kissed you back with a hunger that made your knees weak, his hands gripping your waist as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The tension between you both reignited, the frustration of earlier moments fueling the intensity of your connection.

“Where were we?” Logan rumbled against your lips, his voice rough with need.

“Right here,” you whispered, tugging him closer until your bodies were pressed together, your hands wandering over his broad chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his torn shirt.

This time, there were no interruptions. The sanctuary seemed to hold its breath as you and Logan finally gave in to the desire that had been building between you for days. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, tangled together in the grass, surrounded by the vibrant life of the forest.

Logan’s hands roamed your body, rough and possessive, his kisses deep and urgent. Every touch sent shivers down your spine, the pent-up longing spilling over in waves of passion. You responded with equal fervor, your hands sliding over his muscular form, memorizing every inch of him.

As you moved together, the tension from earlier melted away, replaced by a fierce, all-consuming love. Logan’s usual gruffness was softened by the tenderness he reserved only for you, the rough edges of his personality smoothed out by the gentleness of your touch.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and sated, Logan’s usual scowl had been replaced by a look of contentment, though there was still a hint of frustration lingering in his eyes.

“Still mad about the dragon?” you asked softly, brushing your fingers through his tousled hair.

Logan grunted, but there was no real anger in his expression. “Ain’t easy on the pride, gettin’ tossed around like that,” he admitted, though he didn’t seem as bothered by it as before.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry, Logan. I’ll make it up to you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You better.”

You laughed softly, pulling him close again, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you. “I will,” you promised, your voice full of affection.

As you lay together in the quiet sanctuary, the warmth of Logan’s body

[arjwrites]

Long Day- Gabriel x Reader

Summary: After a stressful day, a familiar face pops in for a visit. With snacks.

Warnings: None! GN!Reader, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Thanks so much for this request AAH!! I hope you don’t mind that I wrote this as gn instead of speificially male reader! I’m so glad you requested Gabriel, he is literally my pookie and I have been waiting to write him. Thanks for being patient, I really hope you enjoy <333

Work sucked today.

In all honesty, a lot of things sucked today. Your alarm didn’t go off in the morning, so you were late getting out the door. You didn’t have time to eat breakfast, so you spent the first half of the day equally starving and exhausted. Your lunch wasn’t good, your coworkers were annoying, and your boss was on your ass all day long. So when the day was finally over, all you wanted to do was get home and mope.

As you entered your apartment, you let the door slam behind you in hopes it would shut the horrible day out with it. The noise echoed through the room before dissipating into the quiet space. Normally, you’d be quick to pop on some music or put something on the TV, if for nothing else but to fill the silence. However, today being the day that it had been, all you could do was throw your work bag down on the first surface you could find before flopping face-first into the couch. 

With your head in the cushions, you channeled all the stress in your body into a long, low groan. The couch muffled the sound so much that if anyone had been in the room with you, they wouldn’t have been able to hear it. That didn’t stop Gabriel, who materialized in the room just as you finished letting out the noise of frustration. 

“Well, that’s not the position I expected to find you in,” you heard him huff. The sound of wings had alerted you to his arrival, so you weren’t surprised when a sassy comment followed. Rather than responding verbally, and without lifting your head, you grabbed a couch cushion and sent it flying in his direction. 

“Hey, what was that for?” You could practically see the expression on his face- the dramatic feigned offense you knew all too well. You rolled over so you could look at the archangel, letting half of your body hang over the edge of the couch lazily. Gabriel stood with a swagger in your living room, a familiar mischievous glint in his eyes that always left you guessing what antics he was up to. Usually, that was one of your favorite things about him. But today, you weren’t in the mood for his usual mayhem.

“Not now Gabe. I had the worst day ever.” You rubbed at your forehead as you spoke, attempting to dull the budding tension headache. 

“Yeah, kid, I could tell by that growl. Why do you think I’m here?” He strolled across the room, casually plopping down next to you and kicking his feet up like he owned the place. As you sat up, suddenly conscious of the ungraceful way you were sprawled across the couch, he reached for the TV remote. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice coming out a little sharper than you intended. 

“Whatcha wanna watch?” He didn’t even look over at you as he spoke, eyes locked on the screen. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Hmm… You seem a little down in the dumps, so do you want to watch something sad? Let it all out? The Notebook? Or we could do a comedy for a little pick-me-up. You know I love a good comedy. Have you seen-” 

“Gabe, what’s going on?” you cut off his rambling, a bit confused by his actions. You knew angels pretty well at this point, enough to know that sitting down to watch a movie was not typical behavior. But here he was- the all-powerful archangel Gabriel, getting comfy on your couch as he scrolled through Netflix recommendations. He didn’t miss a beat in responding to your inquiry.

“You’re upset, I heard your prayer. I’m here to make you feel better. I even brought snacks!” He snapped his fingers and bowls of popcorn and candy appeared on your coffee table. You giggled a bit, in spite of yourself, but pressed on. 

“But I didn’t even pray.”

The archangel huffed, his eyes pulling away from yours and settling on the ceiling as he thought for a moment. 

“Look, kid. I care about you. I keep tabs. Sometimes, when your emotions are strong enough, I can hear them, even if they’re not quite a prayer. And whatever that noise was, it was loud. So we’re watching a movie and we’re having some snacks.” 

You couldn’t help the smile that crept up onto your face- it was probably the only one that had been there all day. All his words were sweet, but you had gotten caught up pretty early on in his sentence- I care about you. Suddenly, a horrible day didn’t feel so bad.

“Alright. Let’s do it.” 

Gabriel chose some stupid comedy movie he swore you had to see. As the opening credits began, he tossed the popcorn into your lap and settled the bowl of candy in his. There was silence for a while, save for the crunching of your snacks and the occasional giggle at a funny joke. As the plot of the movie developed, he reached across the couch in an attempt to grab a handful of popcorn. 

“Come on, I can’t reach. You gotta scooch over here.” 

You obliged, wiggling your way down the couch to get closer to him. At the same time, he scooched to meet you. Your legs bumped together, sending a few pieces of popcorn flying as you settled in the new proximity. It wouldn’t register in your mind until later, but the archangel never ate anything but candy. There was no reason he needed to be able to reach the popcorn- no reason besides his desire to be closer to you, and his fear of telling you that outright. 

As the plot thickened, the two of you lingered in your position side by side. Your shoulders would brush together as you reached for the snacks, sending a buzz of nerves through your body each time. You locked your eyes on the movie and willed the blush away from your cheeks, but you could feel it creep back up each time you caught him looking at you out of the corner of your eye. 

If there was one thing about the archangel-turned-trickster, it was that he had a good sense of humor. This movie was funny, you had to admit. Between the laughs from the jokes (both the movie's and Gabe’s), the satisfaction from the snacks, and the butterflies from being close to him, you were starting to feel the day’s stress melt away. He really knew what he was doing. 

When a particular joke really got you, you threw yourself forward in a belly laugh. Too caught up in the humor of it, you completely missed what was happening behind you, until you leaned back into your seat and felt an arm settle across your shoulders. You eyed Gabriel suspiciously. 

“What? Just getting comfortable, sugar.” 

Suppressing the nerves the increased contact triggered, you shifted so you were snuggled into his side. The second his arm reached the rest of the way around your shoulder, finding its way to the skin of your arm to draw soft circles, any worry that was left in your body finally washed away. This was seriously bliss. Your breathing slowed and deepened, officially dragging your body out of the fight-or-flight mode it had been trapped in all day. Every muscle in your body relaxed as you reveled in the chance to be this close to the archangel. 

This movie was long. In your state of relaxation, you were finding it harder and harder to pay attention to the movie, instead inching closer to sleep by the second. When Gabriel peeked down at you, watching your eyes flutter shut, he couldn’t help but smile. He pressed a careful kiss to your forehead, sealing the deal and sending you drifting off into a dream. 

When you woke, hours later, it took a second for you to register where you were. Blinking your eyes open, you found yourself in your bed, down the hall from where you had fallen asleep on the couch. With Gabriel. Using your elbows to prop yourself up, you scanned the room for any signs of the archangel. He was nowhere to be seen, but on your bedside table sat a note, scrawled in handwriting you didn’t recognize. 

Sweet dreams, sleepyhead. Hope you feel better. Call me whenever you need- I’ll be listening. 

Love, Gabe. 

Snuggling back under the covers, you let yourself drift back off to sleep, your dreams sweet and full of laughter.

[dylan-o-yumm]

Little Moments - Leon S. Kennedy/reader

It has been a hot minute... I’m sorry I’m not making an amazing come back with DMC or Nero content, but hey at least it's still Capcom? Anyway, Leon is babygirl 

Also read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46338547

Words: 6.6k Summary: Leon rescued both you and Ashley from the events of RE4, now the thereof you are "relaxing" in a hotel, unwinding before Leon has to take you both home in the morning.

Part 1, Part 2

“I could sleep for a year.”

“Just a year? Rookie numbers.”

“Are you guys kidding me? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep a wink after everything I’ve seen over the last few days.” Ashley wrapped her arms around herself and looked wearily around the cozy hotel room, as if a crazy, plaga-infected Spanish person was going to jump out from the shadows. You couldn’t blame her for being so on edge, you’d be the same if Leon wasn’t there with you.

Ashley was the president's daughter and you were… just someone who was in that damn village at the wrong damn time. Leon was a special agent of some sort, somebody the president sent to find his daughter— but Leon just so happened to find you first. He saved you. And then he saved you again. And again, and again. No matter what happened, you knew Leon would be there like a knight in shining armor.

He made you feel safe but, the poor guy looked like shit and needed to finally rest. He had done so much work, busted his ass for— fuck, was it really only a day? Two days? You can’t remember how long you were there, let alone how long Leon was there looking for Ashley — and by proxy, you as well.

“Ash, it’s fine. We’re out of the village now. And even if some of the Iluminados freaks managed to escape, well… you saw how they were after their lord and savior kicked the bucket.” You turned to face Leon, gesturing for a little reassurance to come from him. Hopefully hearing it come from Leon would calm Ashley’s nerves somewhat.

Leon blinked and his lips parted as if he hadn’t been listening to a single word that had been said since he commented on how you wanted to sleep for a year. However he snapped back to hero mode rather quickly, looking around the room while he stretched his back muscles.

“I’ll stay up and make sure you’re safe. My job isn’t done yet.”

You and Ashley both shared a look.

“I think out of all of us, you need sleep the most, Leon.” Ashley told him with a concerned look on her face and you nodded in agreement. You opened your mouth to add your insight but Leon raised his hand to stop you, already knowing that you were going to demand that he sleep before you knock him out with a frying pan.

“I dozed off a few times at the village, I’ll be fine.” He shrugged as if it really didn’t bother him but you could see the exhaustion all over his face and in his shoulders, his muscles. Hell he had an aura around him that beamed like a bright neon sign that made you tired just by looking at him.

“It’s just one night. I’ll take you both home tomorrow and then I can go home and sleep for as long as I want, how’s that sound?”

“Leon…” Ashley sighed but you beat her to the punch.

“I’m too tired to argue. Just, at least sit down or something. I’ll make you some coffee,” you sighed and rubbed your forehead where a sharp headache started to irritate you. You dealt with too many loud noises; explosions, gunshots, too many bright lights from flash grenades and fires from molotovs, and the screaming and yelling of the Illuminados or Ashley or yourself. Everything from that damn village and the island, up until the point of getting out of the ocean after a long, loud and bumpy ride on a jet ski, was all building up into one big headache.

Leon didn’t have anything else to say after that, opting to do as you said and taking a seat on the couch by the window. You moved to the small kitchen and started boiling water while Ashley said she was going to go have a shower.

The three of you were still pretty filthy. The ocean water washed some of the grime off, but the stench still lingered and you all had scrapes, cuts and bruises. Your body ached from all the running around and getting thrown about and whacked and hit and kicked by the crazy villagers. Leon took the brunt of it all though, which is why you were worried about him the most. He really needed to rest. For a week. Or in your words; a year.

You all did.

Once the coffee was made, you brought a mug out for Leon, pausing for a moment to watch as he yawned so intensely his eyes started watering. Though, when he noticed you looking at him, he quickly shut his mouth and rubbed his eyes, pretending he hadn’t just been fighting off the urge to sleep. He gave you a little half smile and went back to unwrapping the bandage from his arm to check one of his many wounds.

You could have teased him for yawning, you could have angrily told him to get some sleep. But you didn’t.

“Need any stitching up?” You asked as you placed his mug on the coffee table in front of him, holding a second mug in your hand and moving it to your lap as you sat down on the couch beside him. The heat from the mug warmed your hands and made you feel more at ease.

”No. I could do with a good massage though,” he replied with a small grunt, rolling his shoulder out and you got a good look at his bicep. There was a scratch from an ax being thrown at him that, thankfully, only just nicked him. A long, but thankfully, not deep gash from his battle against Saddler. And finally a large bruise that spanned from his shoulder down to his elbow in an odd splotchy pattern. You weren’t sure what that one was from but you could take at least a dozen guesses.

You weren’t sure if he was asking you to give him a massage or not— he sure did like his cheesy one-liners and little quips, maybe this was one of them?

“Get in line, buddy. I don’t think I’ll physically be able to get out of bed in the morning,” yeah, that was a good common ground to avoid any confusion and possible embarrassment.

“It will be tough, yeah…” you could tell he was speaking from experience. How many crazy missions like this had this poor man been through? “You handled yourself well out there. I want you to know that.”

He turned his gaze to your direction but he didn’t quite meet your eye. He sounded genuine though and it made your heart skip a beat.

“You mean by… running, hiding, screaming. Oh yeah I handled myself very well,” you chuckled sarcastically and brought your cup of coffee to your lips, taking a sip.

“Hey, just because you didn’t kill anything, doesn’t mean you weren’t tough or brave,” now he finally met your eye. His own eyes, so incredibly blue that it was hard to remember them glossing over and turning a dull red from the plagas only a few hours ago.

Was that a few hours ago? It felt like it had been days since that happened.

You didn’t know how to respond, and thankfully Leon spoke up again before you could.

“Are you drinking coffee?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not trying to stay awake, are you?”

“I don’t think even coffee could help me stay awake at this point.” Was it a lie? No. Was it a small truth that you admitted so that you didn’t have to reveal the big truth? Possibly. You were definitely too tired for coffee to keep you awake, but you were also trying to stay awake, at least a little longer, so that Leon wouldn’t have to suffer through the night alone. You couldn’t imagine what kind of thoughts he must have when it got quiet, when he wasn’t busying himself by running around castles or villages, or killing monsters.

You were tired. But so was Leon and this was the least you could do for him… You just couldn’t tell him that’s what you were doing, or he would probably knock your ass out.

You’re not a fighter. You’re not a cool secret agent with gadgets, nor were you a military trained soldier who could turn anything into a weapon. You couldn’t do the things Leon could do, you couldn’t protect him, you couldn’t save him from monsters…

Staying awake for a night just to keep him company so that he didn’t have to suffer alone? It wasn’t grand, it was nothing like the magnitude of favors and rescues he had done for you over the last however many days. But it was something. You couldn’t really do much else.

Maybe you should give him that damn massage.

“So why are you doing all of this, Leon?” You asked, wanting to change the subject so he wouldn’t figure out your little plan. He raised an eyebrow at you over his cup of coffee and you elaborated. “You came to the village because of the president's orders, right? To save Ashley… So what made you want to work for the president of all people? Or is that classified information?” You teased, knowing damn well it could definitely be very classified.

Leon chuckled.

“It’s a little classified, yeah. But I will tell you that… I met a girl a few years ago. And I want to make sure she’s safe,” he nodded softly to himself, as if reminding himself why he just went through all the horrors of the village. His already soft features softened even more as he thought about this girl.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“I think that’s illegal considering she’s a child,” he smirked slightly, as you looked down at your lap in embarrassment. “She escaped Raccoon City with me and another woman named Claire.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” You asked again, emphasis on the ‘she’ and a little teasing smile on your lips.

“Suddenly interested in my love life, huh?”

“Maybe I’m just trying to be a good wingman for Ashley. You know she’s crushing hard for you.”

“Oh this is for Ashley, huh?” His lips curl in amusement and you shrug, playing innocent. You both smile at one another as the world seems to stop spinning for a moment. Everything was quieter, the sound of rushing water from Ashley’s shower had even been drowned out, and now it was just you and Leon. You could breathe, you could take your time and just look at him, taking in the fine details of his face; the color of his irises, the sharpness of his jaw, the dip of his cupid's bow, the pinkness of his lips and the strongness of his chin.

Beautiful.

Inside and out, this man was… beautiful.

He was looking at you too, but it was different. His eyes dimmed, no longer shining along with his smile… it was like a part of him had left and gone somewhere else, no longer sitting right beside you. He looked through you, barely seeing you at all as he reminded himself of his job and why he was here. His smile faded and his eyes dropped, refusing to meet your gaze anymore.

You were admiring everything about him, and he was slowly drifting away from you. Like two ships passing in the night.

“Look… I can’t— I can’t have someone—“ he sighed and scooted closer to you on the couch, resting his gloved hand over the top of yours that was still holding your coffee mug. He was warm, even the leather of his glove was warm and it grounded you– it was a little prickly from where it had torn and frayed a little, from welding guns and knives all day long. His hand squeezed yours once, his pinky resting against the pulse point on your wrist. “I just can’t. Sorry...”

He was definitely not talking about Ashley anymore. You were only teasing and joking around about his relationship status, and you knew that he was far too good for you. Thanks to your low self esteem, and your confidence in Leon never being capable of looking at you the way you looked at him… that ship sailed hours and hours ago, practically when you very first laid eyes on him… But his words still felt like a knife to your heart for some reason.

You blinked once, shaking yourself out of the trance you had put yourself in, and your lips parted. You weren’t sure if you wanted to say something, or if you were going to say something, or if you should have said anything at all. But thankfully—

“Leon! Your turn! You stink. Who knew saving some damsels in distress was such tough work, huh?” Ashley teased as she burst out of the bathroom looking completely refreshed and clean. Her hair was twisted up into her towel while she wore the same clothes she wore in the village. Maybe you could go in search for some robes the three of you could wear or something— at least just for the night. You could go buy some clothes in the morning before the three of you headed back to your respective homes.

You and Leon jumped apart and refused to look at one another, as if you had been caught doing something naughty by your parents. If a hand on yours was considered naughty then you never wanted to be pure. Leon took a final sip of his coffee before placing the mug back down on the coffee table, and when he stood, he looked at Ashley, vaguely gesturing towards her. “Will you two be okay while I’m gone? I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Leon please. The only thing we’re in danger from right now is your body odor,” she teased even more, skipping over to grab Leon’s arm and ushering him towards the bathroom. “Im stronger than I look, don’t make me wrestle you into the shower, Leon.”

You blushed at the thought of Ashley and Leon anywhere near a shower together.

“Alright,” he chuckled but paused in the doorway of the bathroom, finally looking towards you again, but you were silent and didn’t quite know how to feel or react. “Yell if you need me, okay?” It was directed towards the both of you but his eyes were burning a hole into your face.

You simply nodded. And Leon disappeared behind the bathroom door.

———————————————————

“Need me to tuck you in or something?” Leon asked teasingly as he walked over to you. Ashley was fast asleep in one of the single beds, having passed out when you went for your shower after Leon. The three of you were clean, dressed in robes (well Leon wasn't), all comfy— but very tired. No amount of coffee could help.

You were sitting on the armchair by the second single bed, (there were only two but Leon said he was fine sleeping on the couch— this was obviously before he stupidly agreed to just not sleep at all for the night) a book in your lap, one that the hotel just had laying in the small bookshelf. It was terrible and not your idea of a good time at all, but there wasn’t much else to do. You could watch tv but you didn’t want the noise to keep Ashley up.

“Tell you a bedtime story?” He offered once you didn’t say anything to his first teasing question. “I don’t know how good of a story teller I am…”

“I'm fine, Leon. Thanks though,” you smiled up at him. You weren’t mad and you weren’t holding a grudge, you were just confused and felt a little awkward from your previous conversation with him. And with you acting awkward it only made things even more awkward— it… had been a rough few days.

“Okay…” he watched you skeptically for a moment. “Are you worried about falling asleep? I had the same problem after Raccoon City.”

“No-“

“Because I don’t mind staying up, and I can sit closer to your bed if it makes you feel any better?”

“Leon-“

“Ashley’s already knocked out so she won’t mind if I’m keeping an extra close eye on you until you fall asleep.”

“I'm fine. I swear. I just don’t feel like sleeping right now is all…” You looked up at him and smiled, closing your book to lightly wack his stomach with it. He took a step back and placed his hand over the spot you just walked, looking down with a faint smile.

“Right…” he nodded, sighing as he fell back onto your bed, spreading his legs like all men do, and resting his elbows on his knees. His upper body was leaning towards you where you sat on the armchair in between the window and the bed and, feeling a heat make its way onto your cheeks, you quickly went back to reading your book.

“What are you reading?” His voice was lower and softer than it was just a second ago, it sent shivers down your spine.

“I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t taken in a single word since I picked it up,” you looked back over at him and smiled with a small shrug as if to say ‘what can you do?’

“Riveting stuff. I guess it’s better than fighting monsters though.”

“I wouldn’t know, you fought all the monsters for me,” you sassed, as if you were disappointed that you didn’t get to fight anything, when in reality, you know you would have died if you had to go up against one of those crazy villagers. And Leon was taking on half of Spain it felt like, plus those that grew into large monsters with tentacles and big yellow eyes and slime and spikes and goop.

“Well hey, you threw a flash grenade at that Mendez guy for me.”

“I forgot to pull the pin…”

“Yeah, but he looked pretty pissed off when it hit his shin. It was a good throw,”

“I was aiming for his head…” You bit your lip.

Leon sighed and looked down, not knowing how to find the bright side of that little tidbit. A beat passed before you started to chuckle, and so did he. “I know one thing you did that saved my ass.”

“What’s that?” Your tone was humorous, thinking he was going to tease you again. It wasn’t like you did much, especially compared to Leon. Just the fact that he said ‘I know ONE thing you did that saved my ass’ is proof that you obviously didn’t do enough. However, maybe that’s for the best as you definitely would have gotten into even more trouble if you started being reckless.

“Luis’ lab…” he looked down at his hands as he spoke.”I was losing it, I could hardly see, I couldn’t move my body properly. I think I even started hallucinating.” His eyebrows jumped a little as he recalled those moments in his head. It wasn’t very pleasant for you either, but Leon had a lot more of those moments than you did. “I don’t think Ashley and I would have made it if you weren’t there,”

“I think I was just yelling at you the whole time. I was scared.” It was true. You were scared of losing both him and Ashley, and having to find a way off the island on your own. You recalled yelling at Leon while he stumbled through the hallways with an unconscious Ashley in his arms. ‘Hurry the fuck up, Leon!’ and ‘don’t fall down! Get back up! Now!’

“Your yelling got me to keep moving, gave me something to focus on.”

“Well... You’re welcome,” you whispered, looking down at your lap bashfully. Your teeth worried your bottom lip, making it feel a bit tingly and numb. Once you gained the courage to look back up and meet Leon’s gaze — his eyes already on you, watching you intently — you exhaled slowly through your nose and faintly shook your head.

“You’re so annoying,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

He didn’t look amused, more like... he was agreeing with your statement. He didn’t even look like a kicked puppy, he had just accepted that it was his time to be knocked back down a couple pegs.

His eyes focused on yours while yours focused on his lips. God he was so annoying. And it was even more annoying knowing that he wasn’t doing any of this on purpose. He was just... like that. It was impossible not to like him, not to dream up some fantasy of you and him being closer, more intimate. Impossible not to imagine how soft his lips might be and how his hair might feel between your fingers, and how his rough hands might caress you so gently.

A heart breaker. That’s what he was.

Even Ashley was in the same trap as you — could you even call it a trap when Leon wasn’t aware he had set it, and you and Ashley had both practically willingly jumped into it? You heard her little hints, her little compliments. Calling him dashing and trying to get him to work with her once his mission was over. And you couldn't even blame her! You wanted more time with him as well.

“I wish I never met you,” you whispered, more softly than you had previously been speaking.

“Where would you be without me?” He whispered back just as gently.

His pearly whites faintly peaked out from behind his lips, barely visible but just enough to know that he was fighting off a smile. The corners of your lips twitched upward slightly as you fought off your own smile.

You leaned in.

He didn’t move away.

You leaned in more.

The hint of a smile had left his face and his eyes dropped down to your lips. His own lips parted and his brows twitching- itching to pull together, as he fought with himself. You could see it all — how he wanted to run, how he wanted to pull away, how he was worried and maybe even a little scared. But that wasn’t all, you could also see how he wanted to lean in and give you exactly what you wanted, because he wanted it too.

Conflicting.

You moved in gently and cautiously, your eyelids slowly closing. You weren’t sure if he moved in towards you, or if you managed to get closer to him in your eagerness, but you could feel his breath against your skin a second after your eyes closed. Your noses were the first to touch.

You breathed in, and Leon let out a shaky breath that you couldn’t only feel, but hear as well since you were so close to him. You angled your head to the side slightly, feeling your way out with the tip of your nose as it slowly and gently slid down the side of his nose bridge and poked the inner corner of his cheek.

Your lips ghosted his, feeling him ever so slightly. The softness, the warmth. You shuddered.

Your lips parted, so did his. Your lips pressed softly against his top lip while his pressed against your bottom lip, delighting yourself in how soft his lips were and how inviting they felt. You could only hope you had the same effect on him. He wasn’t pulling away, he leaned in closer, much to your surprise and his hand slowly reached out to lay flat against your knee.

You applied just the tiniest amount of pressure with your lips before pulling back, needing air. Your cheeks were warm, your eyes glossy, and your lips just a little wet from where Leon’s lips had pressed.

You licked your lips, wanting to taste more of him. He did the same. The both of you staring into each other's souls, eyes flickering to each other's lips, then eyes, then back to lips. Not a word was uttered between you two before he leaned forward this time and pressed his lips against yours.

Your heart skipped a beat.

His kiss was just as, if not more, gentle than yours, thinking he would be a little rough or just— anything but so gentle. As if you were more fragile than glass, more fragile than the finest porcelain. Like you were thin paper sat out in the rain, and one little breeze would tear you to pieces.

He kissed you. He wanted this. What was he talking about earlier with his ‘I can’t’? He was doing it right now and you never ever wanted him to stop.

Keeping your lips connected to his, you slowly rose from your seat, hands coming to slide over Leon’s shoulders. He leaned backwards — only his lower body, while his lips refused to leave yours, as he gave you space to sit down with him on the bed. His large, warm hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you close.

Your lips parted for a short breath only to close around his bottom lip a second after. But when his lips parted, he didn’t bother gaining more air, he simply worked your mouth open and found your tongue with his own. The sound of wet lip smacking soon filled the room, along with faint panting and pauses for quick breaths — gulping down air when you had the chance.

His hands squeezed your hips and yours fisted the collar of his tight shirt, pulling and not letting him go. A way to ground yourself. Just an hour ago you were so content with the idea of him being too good for you. Knowing that he would never see you the way you saw him. But now here he was, kissing your lips so softly but so desperately.

Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest, trying to explode out of you.

“Leon...” you panted breathily against his mouth, having nothing else to say besides his name. A name you never thought you’d have the opportunity to whimper out like that. You whimpered it once before when you rolled your ankle after running away from a crazy wolf-dog thing, and needed to use Leon as a crutch for a moment, but this was different.

You weren’t sure if you leaned forward or if Leon pulled you closer but he slowly fell back down on the bed, and you followed pursuit. The pillow sunk beneath his head and his hands slid from your hips to your lower back, sending goosebumps all over your skin. You’ll never understand how someone can kick open doors and barrels and people’s heads, and also be so tender and gentle behind closed doors.

He was firm, sturdy as you laid on top of him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest and he could probably feel yours as well. His heart was beating fast, but strong and mighty, and even when he was distracted like this — not alert and ready to defend, you still felt so incredibly safe.

Your tongue pushed its way into his mouth, exploring and massaging where you could. You were thankful that you brushed your teeth when you had a shower earlier, and considering the fact that Leon tasted minty and refreshing, you could only assume he did as well.

His tongue slid against yours, flicking against the roof of your mouth before he pulled back to refill his lungs. You didn’t even have time to share a look before he was back to kissing you.

One hand slid into his sandy blond hair, pulling a sweet and quiet moan from deep within his chest. Your fingers slid against his scalp and teased the roots of his hair, while your other hand laid flat over his pectoral, feeling his muscle and firmness and his strength.

Your movements were slow and steady, like liquid pouring over his skin, there was no rush, there was no danger. It was just you and Leon, sharing kisses and slowly morphing into one being. If love wasn’t this then you didn’t want it.

“Leon... hmmf,” saying his name for no apparent reason other than to just say it. Your robe slipped as you raised your leg and bent your knee, hugging him with your thighs. Leon’s gloved hand slid down to feel the soft, exposed skin of your thigh and you gasped into his mouth. The feeling of his soft fingertips with the scratchy leather sent a heat all throughout your body.

He, of course, didn’t take a robe from you earlier, opting to stay in his filthy clothes since they were more practical for if he needed to defend you and Ashley again. You didn’t think he would have to defend the two of you at all, now that you were off the island and away from the village… but neither you nor Ashley were back home just yet, so he couldn’t afford to take any risks. He was sure determined and that alone made your insides all warm and fuzzy.

His hand gripped your thigh, but his lips stopped moving. You took the opportunity to worship him; to press kisses to the corner of his lips, then two on his cheek — one right beside his ear and the other closer to his jaw as you moved down to his neck.

His skin was so soft, save for the few cuts and scrapes. He lifted his head, giving you more room and you eagerly obliged, leaving soft pecks and wet, open mouthed kisses, little licks and faint nibbles. He hummed in pleasure and it made your whole chest flood with pride.

Pressing a kiss against his adam's apple, you went to move to the other side of his neck, wanting to give his right side equal treatment, but he turned his head. You weren’t sure if he was trying to stop you or not, so you pulled back just to make sure he was okay.

He looked perfectly fine. His cheeks were a soft shade of red that you would now commit to memory for the rest of your life– probably your new favorite color.. His eyes were half lidded and a little glossy, making the different shades of blue in his irises shine brightly even in the darkly lit room. It was impossible to have a fear of drowning when you looked into them.

Though he wasn’t looking at you.

His head was turned to the side, looking over at Ashley who was still sleeping like a rock. Her lips were parted and she breathed heavily, close to snoring but not quite.

It was only when you shifted your body a little, wanting to back off a bit in case he was uncomfortable, that you felt your effect on him. Your thigh felt his excitement, he pursed his lips together and closed his eyes for a moment to focus on his breathing.

Was this really happening?

“She won’t wake up,” you whispered to him and his eyes opened, looking cautiously into your eyes, then back to Ashley, then back to you one final time. You wanted him, and he wanted you, and you had both survived the horrors you encountered over the last few days. You both deserved a break. You both deserved this.

His brow furrowed knitting together tightly. Though the slight upward angle in his brows made him look like a wounded puppy.

“My job isn’t done yet,” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I need to stay focused.”

You deflated.

“Right.” You nodded once and crawled off of him. Maybe it was for the best, you didn’t want to go too far with him after knowing him for only 48 hours. Though going through copious amounts of trauma together did make for a great bonding experience and therefore it felt like you had known him for months.

You sat on your ankles, hands on your knees. Your robe was open just enough to show your legs but the rest of you was covered. One hand left your knee to wipe your swollen and wet lips, basically wiping away Leon’s kiss, before you tucked your hair behind your ear.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your lap, feeling embarrassed and maybe even a little ashamed. Were you wrong to think Leon was into it? Into you? It definitely felt like he was, but maybe he snapped out of it once he realized you weren’t that lady in the red dress and the high heels.

As if he could sense your downward spiral, Leon’s hand found yours, the one still resting on your knee, and squeezed it reassuringly. “But I can… stay here?”

You finally looked up and met his ocean blue eyes. He had sat up somewhat, his back resting against the headboard of the bed. He looked just as unsure and nervous as you did. He obviously didn’t have much experience with this sort of stuff, which only made him even more endearing. The poor guy just fought monsters for a living and never had time to slow down and relax.

“While you fall asleep,” he added gently. He wanted to stay with you? In bed? Did that mean he wasn’t just using work as an excuse to not go further with you? He really did just want to stay alert and not have any distractions while the president's daughter was in his care.

“If you want?” He pressed one more time. He was giving you big, puppy dog eyes— knowing him, it was unintentional too. Even if you didn’t want him to stay with you, there was no way you could refuse him when he gave you that face. But you did want him to stay of course.

You didn’t need to say so.

You curled up beside him, sliding your body under the covers. Leon didn’t smell great, but he was at least clean enough— his clothes weren’t covered in blood and dirt but the smell lingered a bit. You weren’t sure if his sweat or the seawater from the jetski ride over was what rid his tight shirt of all the muck. Or maybe he washed them in the shower and dried them quickly afterwards. That would be nice.

Your hand splayed over his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Your nose pressed against his ribs, finding an odd sense of comfort in the smell that lingered. It was Leon after all, it was proof he was there with you, reminding you you were safe even when you had your eyes closed.

His arm was around your neck, letting you use his bicep as a pillow. His heart was beating rather fast as you snuggled into his side but after a few minutes it slowed back down and fell in tune with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Leon turned his head and pressed his lips against your forehead, letting them linger for a moment. And his arm, the one you weren’t laying on, moved over towards you, his hand stroking through your hair.

Cocooned in Mr. Leon S. Kennedy’s arms.

“Get some sleep. I’ll look after you.”

And there go your plans to stay awake with him.

—————————————————————

After waking up in Leon’s arms, you got up and did your morning ritual with Ashley. Breakfast, brushing your teeth, brushing your hair, getting dressed, etc. Leon stood by the door rushing you both as it got close to 9am. A tired but teasing “come on, ladies” came from him as he ushered you both out the door.

Ashley was the first to go home. Being the president's daughter and all. You said your goodbyes to her in the car, opting to not go into the big building with all the security guards. Leon escorted her back to her father — after you and Ashley exchanged emails of course, and by the time she had been delivered home safely, it was already dinner time. The flight from Spain to America chewed up a few hours.

You and Leon didn’t really have a chance to talk when Ashley was around. Though you thought that once it was just the two of you, he might mention something from last night or maybe even be a little more touchy feely. A hand on your thigh while he drove or maybe he would reach for your hand. Maybe press a kiss to the back of your palm once in a while or lean over to kiss your cheek at every stop sign and red light.

He didn’t do any of that.

He barely spoke. You barely spoke. Maybe it was because these were your final moments with him, that you didn’t know what to say or how to act or what to do. How do you say goodbye to someone who saved your life time and time again? How do you just watch him leave without somehow repaying him? Why did he have to leave at all? Why did you have to go back home?

You just did. He just did. It just had to be like this.

Finally once you arrived at your home, Leon got out of the car first, coming around to let you out of the passenger side like a gentleman. You smiled and stepped out, awkwardly hugging yourself as you walked with him to the front door.

This was it wasn’t it? The final goodbye.

You bent down to flip over the corner of the welcome mat, picking up your spare house key and unlocking the door. You hadn’t been home in weeks. Everything was dark and dusty and that homey scent had faded away until you barely recognised where you were.

The door was open but you were yet to step inside. You turned to face Leon first, your hand gripping the door handle tightly until your knuckles turned white.

“…Do you... wanna come in?” You asked hopefully, just wanting to spend more time with him, wanting to feel safe for just a few minutes longer. You wouldn’t be able to feel safe once he walked away. And that foolish little part inside you hoped you could pick up where you left off last night.

But Leon pulled a face. Not out of disgust or hatred or anything bad, he was just… his face was saying ‘no.’ The awkward smile that wasn’t really a smile, more like a ‘man, I’m about to hurt your feelings even though I don’t want to,’ smile.

“I guess not, huh?” You looked down and nodded distantly, realising that this really was goodbye then. Part of you wanted to be angry, for everything that had happened last night, for the feelings you had developed. However, Leon’s ocean blue eyes and his silly floppy hair with those pink, kissable lips... how could you be mad at that?

“It’s been a long couple of days. I should get home.”

“No, yeah. Of course,” you awkwardly shuffled on your feet, avoiding eye contact.

“I’ll probably have another mission lined up for me when I get back to work.” Leon’s voice was quiet and his shoulders were tense. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling but he definitely didn’t look comfortable.

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly, keeping your gaze on your shoes that inched closer towards the inside of your home, wanting to run away and hide.

One beat passed. A sigh left both of you at the same time.

“I’ll see you ‘round, (Y/N)...” you blinked. He was leaving already? Just like that? You finally looked up to meet his eyes, wanting a look at those pools of blue one more time... but he had already turned around and started walking away. He was clearly eager to get away from you, eager to get home and back into his work.

You wouldn't cry over someone you couldn't have...

“Goodbye, Leon.”

You stepped inside your home and closed the door behind yourself.

[beanghostprincess]

Adding on to generalized chronic pain issues, specifically Devil fruit users-

The human body is about 60% water.

There's water in bone too, sorry Brook, no saving yourself there.

DF users have to keep up on hydration, but what if their inability to tolerate water includes ANY kind of water.

Luffy v Crocodile last fight in Alabasta, fighting with his blood - it affected him.

Tears? Big impacts.

Humidity? Rain? Storms? The affects are relatively minor but they are Still There. Most DF users, after an overexposure to water/rain/heavy humidity, will at best have a slight headache. At worst? Those old wives tales of staying out in the rain leading to sickness are REAL.

With my Buggy obsession, I am leaning heavily into impacts to him and those around him. So Buggy's immune system is WACKED out, both bc hus nervous system never quite got with the program of his powers and genetic predisposition. It's one of the reasons he got sick just before Laugh Tale. Fevers weren't uncommon for him AT ALL which is why none of the other Rogers were very concerned.

Shanks, though? He knew. He and Buggy had a whole ass SYSTEM for dealing with it. ((A system he drunkenly regaled Mihawk with often enough for the swordsman to have it committed to memory.))

Buggy studies medicine a bit, and so any Devil fruit users on Karai Bari have a specialty medicine made specifically with their abilities, biology, etc, in mind - including Crocodile. He doesn't let them suffer alone, bc he knows how it is and he refuses to let any of HIS be subjected to that.

Buggy just also doesn't reach out himself when he isn't doing well - enter Mihawk being like "Hello, I - stop screaming - I brought you your tea. Shanks waxed poetic about your teas for hours. Yes, I am aware of the time. No, I do not care that you are under dressed. Lay back down. I brought medicine for your headache."

Cue goth swordsman awkwardly going through the motions of caring for a sick, needy but very hesitant clown. And eventually he even finds the other... rather cute, all sleepy and smiling and soft spoken.

Gross.

Crocodile eventually catches on and swings by, intending to bully Buggy a bit, but then he ALSO get charmed and reminded of the balms for his scars, the specialty drinks Buggy had made for him, and he just... can't.

It becomes p normal when Karai Bari has a higher humidity level or rain incoming for even the regular, standard officers to remind the DF users among them to take it easy, not push it, and it's silly and over the top bc they can't he expected to do anything less.

((Bonus silly idea, Buggy is out helping with muscle work before a big storm hits, even the typical human mercs can feel the moisture in the air, and one dude just. Scoops Buggy up, all sunshine smiles like "let us handle this, Chairman Buggy! Someone as incredibly kind and courageous as yourself can rest easy with us here!"

Buggy is both flattered, offended and flustered in one go. Flattered bc "oh they DO care...", offended bc this guy did NOT just baby him did he???, and flustered bc aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaBeingHeldHELP?????

Croc would either choke on his cigar or just scoop buggy up from the other guy like "i got this, carry on"

Mihawk thought would probably shatter his wine glass, expressionless, and grab n go.

No they are NOT jealous, no they did NOT think the blush was cute on their clown- THE CLOWN, no, everyone shut up, the rain is getting to their heads, fuck off.))

This is awesome. The whole concept about DF users being affected by regular water too is great because it just adds more angst to the whole thing and it becomes more of a risk to eat the fruits. Gonna skip directly to the Cross Guild thing and say that I am SO soft and weak for Croc and Mihawk to end up smitten by Buggy somehow when they weren't planning on it. And they're so protective and take care of him and,,,, That's their boyfriend idc idc idc.

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 11

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 4.2k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 10 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 11

Jake jolted awake as the blanket hit his chest, turning in time to see you lurch out of bed and toward the bathroom. Sighing, he scrubbed a hand down his face before getting up, adjusting his morning wood, and going to the kitchen to get a glass of water, a sports drink, and the anti-nausea pills he’d picked up from the pharmacy.

G-force training had taken away a lot of his aversion to vomit. Hell, once you carried your puke bag across the tarmac to the amusement of all the senior pilots, your tolerance was pretty high - but seeing you suffer was the worst. He also felt like shit for not picking up on it sooner. Hearing you tell the med student and doctor your symptoms yesterday made him realize how little you’d talked over the last two weeks. Thankfully, he only had one more week on mids before going back to the day shift. 

The toilet flushed as he set the items on your nightstand. Knocking on the bathroom doorframe, he peeked around the corner to see you sitting against the wall, knees drawn up and head in your hands. “How’re you feelin’, darlin’?” Rather than answer, you gave him a thumbs up. “That good, huh?”

“Ten out of ten, never doing this again.” Chuckling, he crouched beside you and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Never say never.” At that, you lifted your head and playfully glared at him. 

“So in less than 24 hours, you go from not wanting kids to wanting multiple? Didn’t realize my being sick was such a turn-on for you, Seresin.”

“Learn somethin’ new every day. You okay to get up?” When you nodded, he extended a hand and helped you to your feet, guiding you into his arms. You could feel his cock against your stomach as his fingers slipped under your shirt to draw small circles on your lower back. His lips grazed your forehead as you rested your head on his shoulder. “How’s the headache?” 

“Still there, but not as bad as yesterday.” Jake nodded, feeling a bit better about forcing you to eat. If the doc said hydrating and eating would make you feel better, he would ensure you did it. His hands slipped down your back and wrapped around your thighs, lifting you off your feet and setting you on the vanity.

“That’s good, sweetheart.” He grabbed both of your toothbrushes and handed you yours with the bristles damp and a dab of paste. Sighing, you rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His cheek rested on the crown of your head for a moment before he pulled away, and the buzz of his electric toothbrush started. You gagged while passing the bristles over your molars and had to focus on your breathing. He gently squeezed your thigh while glancing at you worriedly. His toothbrush turned off, yours doing the same a moment later. The water started as he spit, and when you turned to do the same, Jake's hand curled around your cheek, drawing you closer to press his foamy lips to the tip of your nose. 

“Gross,” you scoffed, pushing him away as he laughed before rinsing his mouth. When you moved to get off the counter, his arm shot out to pin your legs down, fingers curling under the counter lip. 

“I gotcha,” Jake said, stepping between your thighs and guiding your legs around his waist.

“I can walk, you know.”

“Don’t want to open the cut on your foot. Besides, you’re already doing all the work, so it’s the least I can do.” Your arms wound around his neck as he lifted you, the tip of his cock grazing your core. You groaned as he palmed your ass, holding you tightly.

“Don’t remind me,” you huffed against his ear. “You get off with five minutes of work, and I’m stuck doing this for nine months.”

“Darlin’, we both know it was more than five minutes, but it certainly wasn’t work,” he chuckled. Gently, he set you on the edge of the bed and handed you the glass of water before shaking out one of the nausea and two headache pills. Once you’d dutifully swallowed them, he cracked open the sports drink and swapped it for the water. 

“Is it killing you that I’m drinking something other than water or coffee in bed?” you teased before taking a sip. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smirked.  

“Since we’ve gotta renegotiate the contract anyways, might as well throw in anything that’ll make sure you’re not dehydrated. You scared the shit out of me yesterday, and we don’t want a repeat of that.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Shoulda stayed in bed with me… for medical reasons.” Rolling your eyes fondly, you set the drink on the nightstand and scooted back on the bed, flicking the blanket over your lap.

“Well, seeing as I’m not going to work today, and you don’t have to go in for a while, it looks like you got your wish, Lieutenant.” Grinning, Jake capped the drink and moved to his side of the bed, pulling you into his arms so you shared the same pillow. His nose brushed yours before he shifted closer to kiss you. Your hand slipped under the blanket to rest on his hip, fingers sliding into the band of his boxers and thumb tracing the grooves of his muscles. His tongue traced the seam of your lips and, when they parted, he tentatively deepened the kiss, testing the waters with how far he could go. Teasing out those sweet little hums and contented sighs that he loved so much. Slowly, he rolled you onto your back, his knee pushing between your thighs as he braced himself on his forearms. His weight was a comfort, grounding you with all the uncertainty you faced. 

Your stomach clenched, and you whimpered while pushing him away. “Okay?” he asked, cupping your cheek as you breathed deeply. He watched you slowly open your eyes and meet his gaze, your breath washing over him. You hummed, smiling tiredly as his thumb traced your lower lip. “Miss wakin’ up with you, darlin’. Feels too much like when we first started dating, an’ you wouldn’t let me stay over.” 

“Well, you got clingy really fast, and someone had to tap the brakes.” 

“Clingy, huh?” he smirked, hand drifting under the blanket to rest on your waist, his thumb sliding under your shirt to press against your stomach. “Well, you’re stuck with me now. For better or worse.”

“Damn.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him down to trade lazy kisses. He moved, forcing your legs wide to accommodate him as he lay between your thighs. You could feel his hard cock twitch against your entrance. 

“Once that pill kicks in,” Jake rasped, “wanna see what we can do about that headache?” Rather than answer, you curled your leg around him and lifted your hips. He smiled against your mouth, drawing your shirt up. The material pooled across your neck, and you quickly pulled it off as he turned his attention to your tender breasts. His green eyes flit up to meet yours as he gently stroked you with his tongue, gauging your comfort level - after all, you hadn’t been joking about punching him in the throat the last time he’d touched you there. But thankfully, the sharp pain that had made it difficult to wear a shirt had lessened to a dull ache. You sighed when he covered your breast with his mouth, tongue gently flicking as his thumb circled your other nipple. The warm heat felt so good. He pulled away enough to whisper against your skin, “Lemme take care of you, darlin’.”

At your nod, his hand left your breast to brace himself under the pillow while his other lightly traced your core, smiling at the growing damp spot. “Missed you,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair and holding him close. 

“Been neglecting my girl?” You snorted.

“Clearly not, since you managed to get me pregnant.” Jake chuckled and flung the blanket and sheets off. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as his lips trailed down your chest. 

“That,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss to your stomach, “I. Did.” Sitting back on his heels, he replaced his lips with his palm, nearly spanning your waist as he spread his fingers and lightly pressed. You covered his hand with yours, and his eyes lifted to meet yours. 

“You’re gonna be a daddy.” A slow smile crossed his mouth as he gripped the sides of your panties and drew them down your legs to drop them off the side of the bed. He was less graceful as he kicked off his boxers before covering you with his body. 

“Feelin’ okay, Mama?” You nodded, and he nudged your legs further apart. He reached down to dip his middle finger into you, gathering your wetness before drawing lazy circles around your clit. Your eyes closed as you settled back into the pillows, lips parting. Jake took advantage and leaned down to kiss you, tongue sliding along yours. When your hips rolled to meet his touch, he smirked. 

“Thought you wanted to help me feel better, not tease,” you groaned. 

“It’s been a little while, darlin’. Just wanna make sure it feels good for you.” 

Huffing, you grasped his cock and lined it up with your entrance, using your other hand to tug him down to say against his lips, “Fuck me, or I’m going to go take care of myself in the shower.” 

“And here I was tryin’ to be nice and sweet.” When his tip breached you, you shifted your hand to his ass, digging your fingers in and making him grunt. He pumped his hips slowly, teasing you with every inch until your hips were flush. Then he stilled.

“Please,” you whined, clenching around him. Jake’s jaw ticked, fighting the urge to move.

“Gonna be good for me?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Gonna tell me when you’re not feelin’ good and take care of yourself?” 

“I - ”

Jake snapped his hips, cutting off your response as you gasped. “That’s a yes or no question.” You nodded when it was clear that he wouldn’t move until you answered. “Words, darlin’.” 

“Yes, fuck. Please.” 

“Good girl,” he smirked, setting a leisurely pace. “Don’t care how many bids you have to get through or if the damn president is visitin’. You don’t feel good, you take care of yourself. You’re carrying a precious payload.” His hand covered your stomach again, stroking softly. 

Groaning, you planted your foot on the bed and pushed, rolling the both of you. Jake huffed in surprise as his back hit the mattress with you straddling him. His hands closed around your hips as you sat up slowly, bracing one hand on his chest to ensure you didn’t get dizzy. As soon as you were steady, you dug your knees into the mattress and lifted yourself before slowly lowering yourself back onto his cock. “Fine,” you breathed. The tendons in his neck strained as you set a languid pace, little moans of pleasure escaping your lips as you rode him. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jake grunted, tightening his grip before thrusting up hard and breaking your rhythm. It was your turn to stop. Smiling, you broke his hold on your hips and kissed his palms.

“You had your chance to do this the way you wanted. Now be a good boy and grab the headboard.” When he looked like he wasn’t going to do it, you raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me dig out the straps, honey. You know how much I love seeing the velcro around your wrists.” His cock twitched inside you, probably remembering the way you’d teased him for almost an hour the last time you’d talked him into using them, and you responded by rolling your hips. Sighing, he thrust his hands under the pillows and gripped the bottom of the headboard. “Thank you,” you said, kissing the tip of his nose. “Now, watch me take care of myself.” 

And he did just that, hands flexing on the wood as you used him. You banded an arm across your breasts to ease the ache as you bounced on his cock, your free hand circling your clit. Your teeth dug into your lower lip as you watched Jake’s biceps strain with the effort of not touching you. When the coil of pleasure snapped, you gasped, planting a hand on his chest as you fluttered around him. His hands left the headboard and gripped your hips, holding you still as he thrust into you, fucking you through your orgasm until he came with a grunt. 

Panting, you collapsed onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he continued to pump his hips. A satisfied smirk crossed his mouth when you whimpered, fingers digging into his pecs. “How’s your head, darlin’?” he asked, brushing the hair from your sweaty forehead. Rather than answer, you gave him a thumbs up, and he laughed into your hair. 

“I’ll get rid of it.” 

“Just move it to the garage,” you countered, leaning against the doorframe as Jake looked around his home gym. The treadmill you sometimes used was tucked into the corner, with his bench press in the center of the room.  

“We wouldn’t be able to park both cars in there. And my truck’s not sitting outside, and you’re not gonna be parking in the driveway. Besides, I go to the gym on base more often than I use this.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I don’t want you to lose your space. We can use the guest room.”

“I have a feeling that we’re gonna be getting more use out of that once the baby gets here. We can move your bed in there and get rid of that one.” 

“Oh fuck,” you groaned, clapping your hands over your face. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he demanded, ready to follow you into the bathroom if your breakfast decided to make a reappearance. 

“We have to tell our parents. Oh god, they’re gonna know we had sex.” Jake couldn’t help the laugh that burst out as he crossed the room to tug you into his arms. 

“I’m pretty sure they know we have sex.” Shaking your head, you leaned into him and groaned again.

“There’s knowing hypothetically and then having the physical proof of it. And it’s not like this was a planned thing, either. They’re going to think we’re so irresponsible. This isn’t funny, Jacob!” you snapped, pushing against his stomach when he continued to laugh. 

“It’s kinda funny, darlin’. Look at me.” When you shook your head, he gently peeled away your hands and forced you to meet his gaze. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he chuckled at seeing the gleam of tears in your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “We’re old enough to deal with an unplanned pregnancy. We’re not teenagers; they won’t be mad at us.” 

“Your parents already hate me, and this is just gonna give them more reason to.” The laughter died on his lips as Jake realized that he hadn’t thought about telling his parents - he’d been picturing telling yours. Given their excitement when he asked their permission to propose, he knew they would be ecstatic about a grandchild.

But his parents? They hadn’t even crossed his mind. Other than a call to check in every few months, he rarely talked to them. Lina texted him every other week and tried to loop him in on what was happening with them, but he didn’t engage. It was easier to love his family from a distance.

There was no telling how a baby would change that. His mom had been open about how much she wanted grandkids when he was married, to the point where he’d sometimes felt ganged up on by his mom and ex-wife. From what Lina said, she was now also getting pressured to get married and start having kids. Once his mother found out that you were pregnant, she would want to be more involved.

And, unfortunately, that would mean interacting with his father more. 

“Where’d you go?” Pulling himself out of that mental spiral, Jake met your concerned gaze and forced himself to smile.

“My parents don’t hate you, but you giving them their first grandkid isn’t gonna hurt.” Choosing to ignore the beginning lie, you drew him down to press your lips against his. 

“Can we wait to tell anyone? Just for a little bit?” Feeling a bit guilty that he’d already told Rooster, Jake nodded. 

“Whatever you want, darlin’.” A playful smile curved your lips.

“I’m gonna make you regret saying that.” When he opened his mouth to reply, you frowned and held up a finger, pulling your phone out of the pocket of your leggings and glancing at the caller ID. “It’s the doctor’s office.” Gently pushing against his chest, you stepped into the hallway before answering. 

Jake half listened to the conversation while casting a critical eye over the room. It was the smallest of the three in the house but big enough for a nursery. He was sure Bob would take the treadmill, and Payback had mentioned that he was in the market for a weight bench. The full-sized bed in the guest room would be easy to get rid of with all the families moving, and he could rope Coyote into helping him get yours from the apartment. Hell, he could set all of that in motion at Phoenix’s party on Sunday. Now that there was an accelerated timeline for getting you moved in, the sooner it happened, the better. There was no way he was letting you deal with being sick without him, even if it meant operating on less sleep for the next week. 

“-Any late morning or early afternoon appointments? My boyfriend’s on mids and… Two o’clock on Tuesday?” you said, turning and raising an eyebrow at Jake’s frown. He nodded, and you confirmed the appointment.

Boyfriend. He didn’t like how that sounded, not when you were scheduling a doctor’s appointment about your kid. It sounded… impermanent. Fleeting. Like he wasn’t as committed as he was.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Jake trudged up the stairs to your apartment, glad he’d accidentally opened the location app before pulling away from the hanger. After a long night in the air, shooting down baby officers who thought they were hot shit, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with you. But instead of being at home, you’d apparently decided to go back to your place. 

When he unlocked the door, he realized why. A handful of plastic tubs were stacked in the corner of your living room, a few picture frames propped against them. Bubble wrap sat on the kitchen counter beside your wine glasses. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who realized that you’d be moving in sooner. He only wished you’d waited for him to help. 

Jake couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you asleep on the couch, one hand resting on your stomach while the other hung off the edge. Your knees were propped against the back cushion, face turned away from him. The TV laugh track sounded as he unlaced his boots and toed them off before walking towards you. Kneeling beside you, he remembered the first night he’d been at your place. He’d been attracted to you when you opened your mouth and compared the F-35 to his Super Hornet.  He’d wanted to know more about you after you called him out on flirting with you at the coffee shop when he was on a date. 

But that night… that was the night he knew he needed you. He would have waited hours for you in that parking lot to make sure that you were okay after the car accident. Teasing you was the closest he felt to the rush of being catapulted off a carrier. And now he was in for the craziest ride of his life. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was going to be a dad. 

It had been on the tip of his tongue when Coyote stopped by the hanger on his way out to confirm that you were still attending the party on Sunday. It was what he thought about during the evening briefing, while observing some of the pilots during simulation training, and when he climbed into the Super Hornet cockpit with your picture tucked into his flight suit. So he may have crowed a bit louder when he got tone on one of the other instructors, winning the exercise for his team, and whooped while pulling Gs. 

And it was in the forefront of his mind as he took your left hand and stroked your knuckles, squeezing gently. He’d had a plan: rent a plane and take you flying. When they reached altitude, he would hand over the controls to you so you could finally feel what it was like to be a pilot. And once back on the ground, he would take you for cheap burgers and fries on the beach. 

But that didn’t matter.

He ran his knuckle along your cheek before gently grasping your chin and turning you towards him. Your brows furrowed as you made a discontented little hum. Jake smiled, covering your hand on your stomach with his own and lifting your left hand to his lips, kissing your palm. “Open those pretty eyes, sleepy girl.”

Slowly, you blinked awake, smiling at Jake’s soft expression. “Hey, babe.” 

“Hey, darlin’. Looks like you were busy.” Groaning, you closed your eyes.

“Didn’t mean to fall asleep. Was gonna go home, but ‘m so tired.” 

“‘S okay. You coulda waited for me though - you shouldn’t be lifting anything heavy.” Scoffing, you curled your hand over his jaw, thumb stroking his stubble.

“You gonna be like this the whole time?” 

“Like what?”

“Overprotective.” 

“Better get used to it, Mama.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Marry me.” You froze. 

“What?”

“I love you so much. Will you marry me? I have your ring at home, and I know this isn’t the most romantic way to ask, but - ”

“Yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes!” you laughed. Jake grinned as you sat up to kiss him before throwing your arms around his neck. Sliding one arm under your knees and wrapping the other around your back, he quickly stood, laughing as you shrieked at the sudden change in altitude. 

“I’ve got you,” he assured while walking towards the bedroom. But when he flicked the light on with his elbow, he groaned - the bed was covered in your clothes and an open suitcase. “You’re killin’ me, darlin’.” 

“Let’s go home,” you murmured, pressing your lips to his throat. 

“Can’t wait that long,” he replied, stepping over piles of hangers and shoes to set you on an empty corner of the bed. Laughing, you watched him clear the space as you moved towards the pillows, stripping off your shirt and bra. Finally satisfied, Jake shrugged off his flight suit, pausing to look at his right hand. “C’mere,” he rasped while kneeling on the bed. He twisted his Naval Academy ring off his finger and took your left hand, sliding it onto your ring finger. The metal was still warm from his body, and the band was far too large - the ring twisted so the stone pressed against your palm. But tears sprang to his eyes as Jake looked at the silver band on your finger. “Just until we get home, and I can get yours.”

“You’re lucky this is too big, or I’d never give it back.” Smiling, he wiped the tears from your cheeks and slowly lowered you onto the mattress. 

“Congratulations, Hangman,” Rooster said, handing Jake a beer as they stood in Phoenix’s backyard. Jake shifted his gaze from where you were chatting with Bob and Halo, probably spinning the better version of his proposal you’d given your parents - something about recreating your first date, minus the car accident.

Coyote, who knew about the original proposal plan, had rightly called him out for what it was: poor impulse control. 

“Thanks. You too. TOPGUN’ll be lucky to have you as an instructor.”

“I'm just happy to be getting the hell out of Virginia again. Mav told me they’re trying to get a couple of us back. Who knows, maybe we’ll be stationed together again.” Jake snorted.

“I hope not. Got enough things going on now without having to deal with a PCS.”

“Payback says you’ve been filling in with the Weapon School, so who knows.” 

“Shit.” Jake watched as you quickly excused yourself from the conversation and hurried towards the house. “Hold this.” 

“She okay?” Rooster asked, taking the beer shoved at him. Bob and Halo frowned at your retreating back. 

“Fuckin’ morning sickness.” 

“It’s six at night.”

“What can I say? She’s an overachiever,” he huffed, following you inside. 

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

Author's Note: Jake may not think that it's romantic to propose on a night in, but I definitely do. I had 2 more scenes that I was going to put into this chapter but decided to hold off for the next ones.

Side note - PCS is 'Permanent Change of Station', meaning you move locations (e.g., Rooster moving from VA to CA). Jake is hoping for a PCA, a 'Permanent Change of Assignment', where he could stay at Lemoore after doing his tour with the Vigilantes and just shift to a different squadron.

Thanks for reading!

Read Chapter 12

Tag list: @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @mayhemmanaged; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily; @rest-of-brazilian-wax; @percysaidnever; @harperdoodle

[starlessea2]

Wild-flower [Astarion]

Chapter 2 - More Interesting Times

Summary: Out of all the strange things to happen to Jessamine that day, the tadpole is the first, the knife at her throat is the worst—and Astarion comes somewhere in between. A/N Make sure to read chapter 1 first, and encourage my slow ass to continue with empty words and mutual love for this pasty man. Masterlist

The beach pools under Jessamine’s fingers. There’s a gash, two-to-three inches long, across her palm. Beneath her, blood congeals with sand. “Ughh…”

As she pries open her eyes, she's met with a splitting headache—far worse than any hangover to date. She retches, and what leaves her is a mixture of bile, saltwater, and iron. It burns on the way out.

“Are you done?” a voice asks.

Jessamine blinks. There’s someone nearby but she doesn’t have the energy to startle. Her response is slow, and if there had been an enemy lurking, she would have quite frankly begged them to put an end to her misery.

But the voice calls out again, this time in her mind, and instinctively, Jessamine’s eyes comb the beach. She spots the figure fairly quick. A little ways up from her, pinned beneath debris from the Nautiloid… It’s Shadowheart. 

Memories flicker one by one. Mindflayers, pods, parasites. Terror grips Jessamine’s mind, but she does her best to squash it down. With a few deep breaths and mental coaxing, she fumbles to her feet. “Wait there—” she croaks, “I’m coming.”

There’s a pained laugh a few feet away. “Not as though I can go anywhere.” 

As her boots sink heavily across the beach, Jessamine anxiety builds. When she reaches the other elf, she’s glad to find she isn’t injured. Rather just stuck. Half-buried in sand, Shadowheart’s face floods with relief at the sight of her. A heartfelt thank you travels through their mental connection, but Jessamine doesn’t quite know how to respond to it.

Instead, she studies the debris. It’s a big, sturdy-looking sheet of metal—probably torn away from the ship. With one glance at the thing, Jessamine just knows: this is going to take some magic.

So she gets to work.

Her and Shadowheart don’t converse; there’s a mutual understanding that the pair of them feel like utter bollocks. But fortunately, it doesn’t take Jessamine too long. With a conjured mage hand, and some good-ol’-fashioned-lifting-with-her-knees, Shadowheart’s a free woman once again.

“Jessamine, right?” Shadowheart turns to her, face still a little flushed. “Let me see.” 

She grabs Jessamine's hand to inspect her gash; it’s crusted with sand and oozing in places. Shadowheart grimaces. “Te curo”, she incants, and in a haze of green light, the wound seals itself up neatly. 

Jessamine gawks. “Cleric,” she says.

“Sorcerer,” Shadowheart counters.

Jessamine blinks. Despite the odds, a snort escapes her. It’s ugly and unladylike, but it manages to pull a smile out of her companion. And Jessamine’s glad for it; she’s pretty certain if she doesn’t laugh, she’ll cry.

“I must not have been paying much attention to your abilities on the Nautiloid,” Jessamine admits. She studies her palm with awe: when she clenches her fist to check for pain, there is none. No scar left behind, either. “Thanks for that,” she eventually says.

Shadowheart shakes her head. “It’s the least I could do. I wouldn’t have exactly blamed you if you’d walked straight past me in that damned pod…” she pauses, taking a glance at the devastated beach. “Or here,” she adds.

Jessamine nods. But in truth, she’s still uncertain whether any of this is real. One moment she’s en route to the Blushing Mermaid, ready to trade a performance for a day’s keep. The next: astra-terrestrial abduction. 

And to think, back home, Jessamine had the gall to consider her life boring.

The thought stirs her stomach. Whilst Jessamine isn’t sure of the date exactly, there’s no doubt in her mind that her absence has been noticed. Her family’s definitely worrying. If she had to guess: her father is furious, a search patrol’s likely turning Baldur’s Gate upside down, and her sisters were probably squabbling over her room at this very moment (it has the best view). 

But there’s little she can do about it here. After all, she isn’t even sure where here is.

With one glance at her companion, Jessamine knows she’s come to a similar realisation. A few moments of shaking sand from their boots, and the two of them are spurred into action. Shadowheart locates her mace before it’s snatched up by the high tide, and Jessamine begins to prompt her with questions about her past—her pointy little artefact. 

“What exactly is it?” she asks. But despite her earlier efforts, the cleric isn’t inclined to answer. 

After a few back-and-forths, they find themselves in a stalemate; Shadowheart’s a terrible liar, and whereas Jessamine would usually prester, her head is pounding, her mind’s mush, and the sun’s in locked combat with her eyes.

So they set off walking. 

As the sun beats overhead, the pair stagger across the coastline. They rummage around for clues to where they might have ended up: a fisherman's basket, a note looted from a corpse… Shadowheart is discerning with their finds, but Jessamine can’t shake the feeling she knows this place. The landscape seems familiar, despite being a far cry from the woodlands she calls home.

She lets herself be guided by the feeling, and maps the carcass of the Nautiloid alongside the cleric. They inspect the burning wreck together, but it's only when a scuttling sound grows near that Jessamine starts to wonder what she’s gotten herself into. 

“Gods—” Shadowheart starts, her face twisting into disgust, “it’s those brains.”

Jessamine curses with equal disdain. In an instant, they’re once again surrounded by the grotesque creatures from the ship. Jessamine steals herself. There’s an incantation on her lips, but before the words leave her, Shadowheart has already punted an intellect devourer half-way across the coast. As Jessamine watches it hurtle through the air, she makes the decision to never cross the cleric. She definitely has some bottled-up rage, she thinks.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take them long to clear up the remnants; they were half-dead from the crash, and didn’t take kindly to their spells. So they make it out of the wreckage in one piece, and continue on in their journey. 

They walk in step, and soon, sand turns into planes. They find themselves traversing rocky cliffsides beyond the beach, seeking refuge from the sun. Jessamine’s mind is in poor shape, but it still questions the scenery—tries to search for it within the depths of her memory. So when she comes upon a mountainside with the words ‘Emerald Environs’ etched into it, the realisation hits her. She recalls a scarred face, a grove, and a trip undertaken when she was still a child. 

“Shadowheart,” she calls out to the other elf. But her words fall away as she they happen upon yet another oddity.

A hand. It waves frantically, trying to get their attention. Except, it seems to be protruding from some sort of portal, swirling deep within a rockface. You wouldn’t need to be a sorcerer to feel the weave oozing from it, the arcane energy thrumming through the air. Jessamine approaches with caution. She hears mutterings of a voice coming from deep within. 

“If—you’d be so kind—grab my hand—” The words are distorted, soaked with urgency.

Beside her, the cleric shakes her head. Jessamine ought to know better, but something is stirring inside her. She’s always had a knack for ignoring danger, so it’s no surprise she finds herself approaching the portal. 

It’s a stubborn thing, but by channelling some of her own magic through it, Jessamine coaxes it to cough up a man. Gale of Waterdeep—wizard.

The introductions are brief; the worm does most of the talking. Gale extends his thanks, and Jessamine quips that everyone she encounters seems to be stuck in one way or another. 

Then she finds herself in the same predicament.

Her face is in the dirt; it had happened in a split second. She tries to struggle but there's weight at her back, and a threatening voice near her ear, “Move, and I won’t hesitate to spill blood.”

The cool press of a blade makes itself known against her jugular. Jessamine stills. The pressure is so great that if she were to swallow, she fears her throat would be cut. So she lets her saliva build.

“Okay now, let’s all just take a moment to calm ourselves—” Gale’s attempts to disarm the stranger fade to nothingness as blood pools in Jessamine’s ears.

She lets her body go limp. All resistance leaves her. Whilst her companions negotiate in her stead, Jessamine counts the seconds to calm herself. The knife is cold on her skin, but beneath it, her blood burns hot. Her magic is disturbed.

“Let her go,” Shadowheart barters, “We’re not mindflayers, for godsake!” 

Her captor flinches at the word, and Jessamine realises there will likely be such an opportunity again. She strikes her elbow up into the man’s gut, making him loosen his hold enough for her to break free. They tussle on the ground; magic sparks at Jessamine’s fingers as his knife nicks her jaw.

“Peru-” Jessamine starts. But one look at his face, and her incantation dies on her lips.

He hasn’t blinked once. His gaze is cold and calculating, yet behind that, Jessamine notices something frantic. It’s a look she’s seen in the rabbits in the forest—or in the eyes of a deer at the end of an arrowhead. And somehow, it’s equally as familiar. 

“Astarion?” she gasps.

The pressure on her neck eases somewhat, as something registers faint behind his eyes. That’s definitely Astarion, she thinks. In the sunlight, he’s far paler than she recalled, but she’d never mistake those eyes. 

“Astarion, it’s me,” she says quietly. 

Prying her hand out from under him, she coaxes him into lowering his blade. It takes a few seconds—he’s beyond cautious—but his face eventually softens. Then it reanimates into a different expression entirely. 

“So we meet again, little flower,” he says, in that coy manner of his. “And to think, I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards!”

There’s a smile on his face, but doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It unnerves Jessamine. In the light of day, she can see clearly that he is no longer looking at her with desire. Nor interest, she is certain. There’s only two things she can discern for sure, and that is fear, and intent.

“I—” she starts.

But something unlocks a door in her mind, and a rush of thoughts overcome her. They flash by in series: threads of magic, the snarls of wolves, a ballroom soaked in blood, and her forest—

Jessamine blinks; the connection is severed.

“What in the bloody hells was that?” cries Astarion. He is on top of her still, pristine in comparison to her dirt-covered self.

“That, my friend, is an illithid parasite,” states Gale. He taps the side of his skull before continuing. “Courtesy of the slippery devil, it seems we’re all privy to each other's thoughts. For the meantime—at least.”

Shadowheart lets out a scoff. “I’d be less inclined to call him a friend whilst he’s got Jessamine on the ground,” she remarks. “But then again, the two of them do seem rather well acquainted.” 

The pause that follows is loud. Jessamine lets out an indignant noise which prompts Astarion to find his feet. 

“Apologies,” he says, dusting himself off.

Shadowheart scowls. That’s perhaps the most genuine thing to leave his mouth, Jessamine hears her think.

Astarion must not have caught it, since he doesn't react. Instead, he tucks his dagger into his holster before offering out his hand. “Take it love, unless you prefer to roll around in the dirt?” 

His tone is teasing, but it stokes Jessamine’s pride as a former youngest daughter. She finds her own footing instead. 

The elf shrugs. “My name’s Astarion,” he says, turning to introduce himself to the rest of the group. “I was a magistrate in Baldur’s Gate when those things grabbed me.”

That explains the garb, Jessamine thinks. His tunic is lavish—far more expensive than the loose blouse he’d worn at the Flophouse. And what business did a magistrate have with her? They were meant to be proper, no? Her cheeks grow warm at the thought.

More introductions follow, and whilst Jessamine still can’t bring herself to look Astarion in the eye, she’s keenly aware that Shadowheart’s watching her, and that Gale likely has a million questions (but not one he’s brave enough to ask). 

Jessamine avoids their stares.

“So to summarise…” Gale says, clearing his throat. “Wizard,” he points at his chest before turning to Shadowheart, “cleric with a slightly dubious background.”

Shadowheart rolls her eyes but does not disagree.

“One dagger-inclined magistrate. And the sorceress who kindly rescued me from certain demise.” Gale throws a wink Jessamine’s way, to which she nods politely in return. “Now am I missing anything?” 

Shadowheart opens her mouth but it is Astarion who speaks first.

“A sorcerer?” he asks. “Colour me surprised. With all that talk of a performance, I would have taken you for a bard.” 

So he does remember.

Jessamine wants to smile, but when she recalls their conversation in the Flophouse—how she acted around him—she can't bring herself to.

That night, she hadn't been in the best headspace. And that had been before she let the wine take over and make her into some giddy, ridiculous thing. Her lips draw into a thin line at the memory. “In another life, perhaps.” 

Astarion quirks a brow but doesn't press.

“More importantly, since we’re all up to speed with our…” Jessamine searches for the word, “dilemma,” she chooses, “then we agree that we need to get to a healer, yes?” 

There’s a chorus of replies ranging from obvious to unamused. 

“Well, I know of a grove nearby. A renowned druid lives there.”

Shadowheart shoots her a look. “And you never thought to mention that before now?” Her eyes are untrusting, despite all they’ve been through.

“It only just came to me,” Jessamine admits.

She wouldn't to let herself feel guilty. It was a half-truth, after all, and Shadowheart was keeping much more than that from her.

Before either of them can speak, Gale claps his hands together, gathering everyone's attention. “Never the matter,” he says. “Why not show our companion here a little faith? I say we head to this grove.”

Jessamine is thankful; he doesn't ask too many questions.

“First we should look for Lae’zel,” she counters. “A gith—we fought our way out of the Nautiloid together.”

Gale hums in response. “A gith,” he says slowly. “I shall add that to the list.”

By the time they set off again, shadows had started to fall over Faerûn. There were sores on the bottoms of Jessamine's feet, and the occasional wriggling behind her eye. But despite her condition, the sun still set in the west. The sky changed its colours as it always had, and the tide retreated in preparation for a new day.

And when Astarion falls into step beside her, Jessamine realises that he too has become another unchanging factor of her life.

“So…” he says, giving her an obvious once over. There’s blood on her shirt, bile on her pants, and she’s pretty sure he noticed her picking part of an intellect devourer out of her hair a few moments prior. “Quite the day, hmm?” 

In spite of everything, Jessamine feels herself laugh. “I shouldn’t have wished to live in more interesting times.” 

-

< previous chapter / next chapter >

[farfromstrange]

Hey , I have an reader x Matt request. After a night at Josi's and the bottle of eel, Foggy spends the night with you and Matt in the apartment. You are all drunk, Foggy falls asleep on the floor. In the course of the night Foggy comes to your bed and cuddles up in the middle. Matt is not quite lucid the next morning and does not notice that Foggy is in bed with him and kisses him, after the kiss he is wide awake and realizes what is going on.

Hi, nonnie! I finally finished your request and I have to say, it was so much fun to write. It's shorter than what I usually write, but it's fluffy and it's fun and I hope I captured it the way you wanted me to. Have fun and I hope you're doing okay!

Honest Mistake | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: After a night at Josie's, Foggy spends the night. When Matt wakes up the next day to kiss you good morning, he soon realizes that it's not you who is lying next to him but rather Foggy himself.

Warnings: None? Maybe some alcohol consumption and hints at smut, but nothing explicit.

Word Count: 1.5k

Three drunk adults stumbling through the front door sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, especially when one of them is blind and intoxicated. 

After a successful day in court, it was Foggy’s idea to spend the night at Josie’s. Karen left early, but you, Matt, and Foggy stayed behind. The evening went well, you chatted and you laughed until Foggy ordered the bottle of eel he and Karen drank on their first night at Josie’s together. He was the first one drunk. You, being able to hold your liquor, took a while longer, but the strong alcohol eventually caught up with you too. Matt, who had sworn in the beginning that he would stay sober, knowing that either you or Foggy would end up dancing on Josie’s bar counter if he didn’t look after you, had one too many glasses of the ghastly grey liquor and eventually joined into your drunk babbling. 

It was your idea to split the last half of the bottle by doing a drinking game. For every object Matt bumped into on his drunk way to the restroom, you all had to take a shot. All of that happened because Foggy decided to tell the story of their time in college together for the millionth time and you, being anything but lucid, decided to make fun of it. In the end, all three of you were drunk off your asses. Josie called a cab for you, but even then you barely made it to the front door. 

You turn on the lights in the living room. Behind you, Matt is trying to sound as sober as possible when he says, “Foggy, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

Foggy misses the uncomfortable leather furniture by a few inches and drops to the floor. As soon as his body hits the carpet, he’s dead asleep. You burst out laughing, not sure why you find it so funny, but Matt soon joins in. 

Not only ten minutes later, you are dead asleep in your shared bed, Matt on one side and you on the other. In your drunken haze, the thought of cuddling evades you. You’re only happy to finally be lying down, and then sleep catches up with you already. 

Matt’s sleep is dreamless. The alcohol lulls his senses and drags his body down. The city isn’t as loud, but his heartbeat thuds in his ears, and when the sun rises in the east the next morning, the headache starts before he even wakes up. 

Stirring, he rubs his tired eyes. He can’t remember how he made it to bed the previous night, but he can feel the warmth next to him. You. He’s gotten used to waking up before you, rolling over, and pressing a kiss to your lips to wake you up. Sometimes he would kiss your cheek or your neck, or he would pull you in to cuddle a little while longer. This morning, he decides to do it the old-fashioned way. 

With a groan, Matt rolls over and kisses your sleeping form. As soon as his lips find home, he notices something different. For one, you don’t stir. Two, you don’t taste like your minty toothpaste that he is sure you used even though you were drunk off your ass the previous night. And three, your lips are supposed to be far plumber than the ones he is touching. 

He’s not sure why he opens his eyes, but the shock settles in as soon as he uses his hand to touch the person next to him. He recognizes them, but it’s not you. While your scent is close to him, there seems to be someone between the two of you, and your lips are far away from where he can touch them. 

The person next to him finally stirs. It takes a second, and Matt starts realizing who is lying next to him. The realization turns into shock, and the person next to him shoots up as soon as he’s opened his eyes and sees his best friend hovering above him. 

“What the fuck?!” Foggy screeches and sits up. 

The shrill sound of his voice sends a sharp headache through both of their heads, but Matt’s cheeks are already burning enough for him to only focus on the feeling of shame. Not because of the realization that he kissed Foggy good morning but because he kissed his best friend instead of the love of his life. 

He stammers, “Uh…”

“Did you just-”

“Well…” Matt trails off. 

“Dude!” Foggy says. He is wide awake, his hangover momentarily moving into the background, and Matt does the same. 

They stare at each other, their cheeks bright red. 

“I’m sorry!” he tries to defend himself. “You’re not supposed to be here! I thought you were-” He points to the side of the bed where he suspects you are, and Foggy only sneers. 

“Do I look like I am?” 

“How am I supposed to know what you look like?”

“Oh, my God!”

“What the hell are you doing in our bed?!”

“What the hell are you doing kissing me?!”

“I told you, I was-”

The door to the bedroom opens, cutting the conversation short. Matt hears your heartbeat, the soft shifting of his shirt against your bare skin. Foggy catches a glimpse of your face, looks beside him, then back at you. They both look guilty, caught in an act that wasn’t even intentional. 

Your eyes switch from Foggy to your boyfriend, and then back at Foggy. “What’s going on?” you ask. 

Instantly, their fingers go up and point at the other. “He kissed me,” Foggy says. 

“I thought he was you,” Matt shoots back. 

“I obviously am not!”

“I notice that now, thank you!”

You look between them again, your expression unreadable. 

“I’m so sorry,” Matt prompts. 

His apology is cut short by the clear sound of your laughter filling the room. It breaks through the awkwardness but paints his cheeks redder nonetheless. 

“You did what now?” you ask, your voice still shrill with laughter, and it does wonders to wake their hungover brains. 

“I’m sorry, I really thought it was you, I-” 

“What?” You wipe some of the tears that had slipped you while laughing. “Me? Please!” You burst into even more laughter, your breath turning into a wheeze. “Oh, my God! I can’t-”

“It was entirely on him,” Foggy adds, pushing the invisible blame away from him. 

Matt glares at him. “On me? You came into our bed in the middle of the night without a warning!”

“I was cold.”

“Then get a blanket!”

“Guys,” you’re still giggling, but your voice still manages to shut them up. “Guys, calm down. It’s okay,” you say. “Let’s just take a step back here. Matt accidentally kissed you, Foggy because he thought it was me. It was an honest mistake.” You look at Foggy, your lip turned upward into an amused grin. “And let’s be honest here, coming into our bed in the middle of the night is a new level of comfort, even for you.”

Foggy shrugs. “Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do,” he says. 

Matt listens to your heartbeat, seeing no sign of a lie. Still, he swallows. “Are you sure you’re not upset?” he asks. “I promise I didn’t mean to-”

You sigh and climb back into bed between them, roughly shoving Foggy aside. Leaning over, you press a kiss to his lips. “Good morning,” you say, trying to somehow clean up the mess they’ve made. 

He licks his lips. “You taste good,” he murmurs, “but I can still taste Foggy.”

You try your hardest not to burst out laughing again. “I’m sorry,” you choke out, “But this is by far the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Wait until I tell Karen about this.”

Matt’s eyes widen and Foggy screams at the same time he does, “NO!” 

“Yes,” you say. 

He drops his head in his hands and you take him into your arms, still chuckling. 

“She’s never going to let us hear the end of this,” Foggy says, his eyes as wide as if he’s seen a ghost. And maybe he did. 

“That’s the whole point.”

“I hate you,” Matt groans into your chest. 

You pat his back. “I know. Let’s just be happy it was just a kiss and nothing more… intimate,” you say. 

Foggy cringes. “Yeah, let’s not even go there.”

“Seriously, that’s the most innocent way he wakes me up, sometimes he uses his mouth in other places-”

He doesn’t hesitate to jump off the mattress. “Gross!” He heads for the living room. “I’m out, I don’t need to hear this. Bye!”

Matt looks up, his cheeks the deepest red you have ever seen. When you meet his eyes, a mischievous smile on your lips, he shakes his head. “Was that necessary?” he asks. 

“You know you love me,” you say. 

He sighs. “I do.”

When you lean forward to kiss him again, he stops you. “I need to brush my teeth.”

“Why?”

This time, he makes sure to say it loud enough for Foggy to hear it, “‘Cause Foggy’s breath smells.”

In response, one of the couch pillows flies its way into the bedroom. You giggle again, knowing that this story is definitely not going to waste. 

[canadiansummer]

SEE YOURSELF (18+)

Pairing: Dmitri Antonov x Fem!Reader / Enzo x Fem!Reader Series: Day one of the October challenges. | Masterlist here. Prompt: Edging/Orgasm denial Warnings: GRAPHIC SMUT. Not much plot. Note: Here we are to kick this off. I hope you all enjoy.

You knew you were a little stubborn. 

It had been something that had been stuck with you since you were a kid. You knew how to really dig your heels in about certain things, an odd mix of patience only making your stubbornness stronger in certain ways. You could really hold your ground when you had your mind set on something, as much as that was both a virtue and a flaw depending on the situation. It was usually only in hindsight that you could tell the difference. 

If anything, it felt like you noticed most things in hindsight these days. 

You knew your little on-and-off partnership with Murray might come back to bite you in the ass, and it wasn’t like what you had found yourself doing as entirely legal. Given that you had been raised up by a family of Doomsday Preppers, it wasn’t like you were unfamiliar with things like paranoia and secrecy. You had also gotten particularly skilled at forging documents–nothing overly official, but an ID or driver’s license here and there. Passports were always extra and something you didn’t like doing often, but it was the thing that got someone like Murray on your radar.

He always brought you the more…interesting work. You should have figured that he’d bring you something that really got you in over your head. 

That moment eventually came in the form of a sudden appearance from the man himself and an exhausted looking stranger in tow. 

Though, the following months were a surprise too. The evolution from taking him in as a begrudging favor, to something closer to friends, and now occasionally pulling each other into bed. Really, you knew Dmitri was an attractive man, as much as the situation he brought with him was nothing but a headache sometimes. He was rather soft-spoken, yet he had a wit to him that had drawn you into him very easily after a while. Intelligent, introspective when the moment was right, and almost playful in others. 

As much as your initial goal was to get him set up so he could leave, it was hard not to feel like you wanted to keep him around sometimes. Some days it felt like you both would dance around the subject, as much as you eventually landed on it in the end. 

It was hard to ignore the way the gazes started to linger, too. The way a part of you had wanted to test the line, yet struggled to find the courage to really do so in ways that were noticeable. You had thought, at least. 

Obviously, that viewpoint had shifted once the facades started to drop and one night you found your hand gripping at the hair on the back of his head, Dmitri’s mouth on your own.

Really, you didn’t fully know what this was supposed to be between the two of you. The first night, you had just figured it would be just that. The second night, it kind of threw things into question. Along with the odd tender moment shared between the two of you that felt much more than just this unnamed thing between the two of you. Yet, neither of you seemed to want to put a name to it, to say exactly what it was. Sometimes it ate at you, while in other moments you didn’t really care to dig into it. 

The current night fell more toward the latter. 

Dmitri could be hard to read sometimes, especially when things turned more physical. Sometimes it felt like the both of you were trying to scratch an itch that neither of you could get at otherwise, while other times it felt more intimate than that. 

The look in Dmitri’s eyes was more amused than you were used to, currently, however. 

The night had started slow, lingering touches and kisses coming across as more sensual. It hadn’t taken you a terribly long time to figure out where things were headed, and it had you responding in kind. Really, it had been a while and you couldn’t help the small building eagerness that started to drive your actions. Yet, Dmitri seemed to have his own plans, stopping your wandering hands from progressing too far with a frustrating sense of patience. His touches were the opposite, trailing along toward the parts you wanted him to touch the most before he would change course. 

By the time you found yourself laying on your back on your bed, you had an idea on what he was trying to do. 

Still, you found yourself shutting your eyes as Dmitri’s mouth pressed against the side of your neck. You parted your legs to let him lay between them, pressing his body against your own as he dropped his kisses down to the space that connected your neck to your shoulder. You ran your hands down his back, trailing your fingers over his spine before resting on his lower back. You lifted your hips somewhat, grinding yourself against the hardness of his cock through his boxers. Dmitri responded in kind, pressing himself against you and gave you a taste of the contact you were seeking. Yet, it didn’t seem to deter him too much from his slower pace. 

Mercifully, however, he seemed to catch on to what you were wanting as he moved to pull your underwear down your legs. You shifted forward somewhat, spreading your legs a little more so you opened yourself for him a little more. The action pulled a small groan from him that almost dissolved into a chuckle at the end. 

“You are very eager tonight.” 

“You’re being a terrible tease,” you replied, taking in a short breath when you felt him press a finger along your folds and stopping to rub against a certain spot. 

“You don’t seem to mind.” 

“I’m starting to, actually…” you muttered, sounding half-hearted even in your own ears as you gently rolled your hips against his hand. 

Dmitri kept his attention on your clit with his fingers, sometimes circling it in a way that had you gasping somewhat before he’d slow down with more deliberate strokes. He was close to what you needed, yet always a short ways off. It was slowly starting to kill you. All the while, he remained nearby, watching your reactions and you knew he would change up his motions if you showed too much of one. 

You wanted to control your reactions, take him by surprise, yet you knew it was pointless. You had already been pent up and he was only making that worse. 

So, it had you moaning outright when he finally inserted his fingers. The slight stretch was welcomed, his fingers pumping inside almost feeling like a relief. You gently rocked your hips against his movements, not wanting to give too much but also wanting him to touch just a little deeper. 

You welcomed the kiss he pressed against your mouth as he leaned over, parting your lips for his tongue with a small sigh. You rested your hand against the back of his neck while you dropped a hand down toward his lower abdomen. At meeting no protest from him, you dropped that hand lower to palm at him over his boxers. The action pulled a small moan from him against your mouth, pressing himself a little harder against your hand. You started to stroke him somewhat, trying to match the pace he set with his fingers still inside you. 

It was difficult to keep that up, however, when he curled his fingers somewhat to swipe against a spot inside you that shot little sparks of pleasure into your core. At the small whimper you let out, Dmitri took the time to pull back from the kiss somewhat to guide your hand away from where you were touching him. 

“You want me to touch you?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he replied, “But it defeats the purpose.” 

“What would that be?” You might honestly just do what he wanted if it meant it would release the tension building in your gut. 

“No matter how close you get, I’m not letting you cum tonight unless it is on my cock.” 

“I-I’m more than ready,” you said, the combination of his words and another brush against that spot inside you almost making you moan. 

“I know. You are soaking my fingers. I know you are more patient than this, though,” Dmitri replied. 

You were patient in some sense, but this was certainly a test of that. Still, you couldn’t help but take in the sensations he was pulling from you, hitting just the right spots enough to really have you squirming somewhat. You could feel that familiar tension building toward that moment you were craving, Dmitri keeping up his pace with his fingers. You were left to grip one of your thighs and the bed when he moved further down so he knelt down at the edge of the bed. 

Just as it felt like you were crawling closer to that edge, he slowly pulled his fingers out. You groaned somewhat, feeling your walls pulse in the absence as you let your head fall back somewhat in frustration. While a part of you wanted to tell him to stop playing around, you couldn’t help but admit that a small part of you was curious. What it would feel like to finally climax after you had been pushed toward that moment again and again. Yet, you knew there was only so much you could take. You figured there was only so much Dmitri could take, too, yet he was making a particularly good show of indifference at the moment. 

So, you didn’t say anything when you felt him start to kiss the inside of your thighs, his hot breath against the sensitive skin there as he kissed his way further up. Very close, yet didn’t put his mouth on you just yet. 

While the excitement from before was starting to ebb out, you knew the anticipation was putting a flutter to your stomach. The curiosity was keeping you playing along for the moment, yet you couldn’t help the way you wanted to buck your hips or at least touch yourself. Still, you let him do what he wanted for the moment. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer until Dmitri shifted one of your legs to settle against one of his shoulders before he bowed his head down. The feeling of his tongue dragging along your sensitive folds pulled a small sound from you, one of your hands coming down to rest in his hair. Moreso for something to hold, considering you doubted he’d let you guide him this time around. As much as you craved something deeper, the prodding of his tongue inside you was pleasurable enough. 

Though, you weren’t too sure if it was a good thing if he had worked you up beforehand or not. 

Your clit was particularly sensitive and begging for attention when Dmitri finally swiped his tongue over it, the feeling making your legs tense somewhat. The alternating between his tongue against your clit and the light sucking had you struggling not to grind yourself on his mouth, pulling a few drawn out gasps and moans from you. Though, the addition of another finger pushing inside you had you letting out a short cry. 

“Dmitri–fuck…” 

“Not yet,” he warned as he parted his mouth from you for a moment, watching you squirm somewhat at him pushing a second finger into you again. 

“You’re…terrible,” you managed to get out around a small moan. 

“If you could see yourself, you would understand why I do it,” he commented before reattaching his mouth to your clit again. 

You moaned again as he sucked at your clit again, the combination of his fingers pushing you into that familiar territory again. The growing tension in your gut made you tighten your hold in his hair, moving your hips against him until you felt him press you down against the bed with his free hand. This was starting to become rather torturous, as much as you were feeding off the mounting pleasure he was giving you.

In particular, you could feel that pressure moving down toward your core as Dmitri kept his attention on your pussy. You let out a few moans, trying to keep your hips still as he curled his fingers somewhat, tongue flicking against your clit. You took in a short breath, feeling your walls start to twitch somewhat as you could feel yourself growing dangerously close. 

Dmitri pulled back, removing his fingers from inside of you. You let out a small noise at the sudden absence, your walls twitching somewhat but you could already feel that sensation becoming less intense from the lack of stimulation. 

“I want to cum so badly, please…” you muttered around a small breath as Dmitri stood up at the end of the bed. 

“Not yet,” Dmitri repeated, shifting the last of his clothing down to release his hard cock. 

He climbed back up onto the bed, crawling over you so he could press his mouth against yours in a hard kiss. You responded instantly, pressing back into the kiss with a small sigh as you wrapped your arms around the back of his shoulders, his body pressing against your own in a way that was somehow both not enough and a little overwhelming at the same time. 

You lifted your hips somewhat, feeling his cock slide against your folds. The sensation pulled a moan from Dmitri against your mouth, him pressing back in return as he ground himself against you somewhat as you met his motion with another small roll of your hips. He parted from the kiss with a small inhale, letting out another short moan as you rubbed yourself against him again. 

As much as the words were right on the tip of your tongue; how much you wanted to feel him inside you, thankfully you didn’t have to say anything at the moment. Dmitri shifted somewhat, you feeling the tip of his cock press against your entrance as you wrapped your legs around his hips somewhat. You let out a soft sound at him pushing inside, his cock stretching you open a little more with only a little bit of a sting given how wet you already were. While he could push in further with little resistance, Dmitri still went slower than he needed to. 

Though, the feeling of his cock fully inside you was enough to where you didn’t feel the need to complain much. Still, you moved your hips against him, really wanting some movement. Dmitri rolled his hips against yours in turn, another somewhat slow movement as you tried to urge him to move a little faster. You were only met with a small, breathless huff in amusement and another small roll of his hips. 

“I have never seen you so needy for me.” 

“That is completely of your own doing–oh, fuck.” You cut yourself with a small gasp when he pressed into you with a bit of a harder thrust. 

“You have been really good for me, just a little more,” he muttered into your shoulder. 

You gripped a little tighter onto his shoulders as Dmitri’s thrusts became a little harder, setting a rhythm that was easier for you to follow. Still, despite that, you were still ridiculously close and each thrust of his cock rubbed against you in a way that made that fact hard to ignore. You really didn’t know how long ‘just a little more’ was in Dmitri’s mind, yet you tried your best to prolong your looming orgasm, trying not to move too much at points in increasingly poor attempts at trying to hold back. 

Shutting your eyes for a few moments, you tried to focus on anything outside of that pressure building up in you again. It was rather difficult, however, as you could hear Dmitri panting in your ear, his increasingly frequent moans and the sounds of your bodies meeting together as he thrusts grew faster. You let out a small, strained noise almost as a warning–to yourself or him, you weren’t sure–as you could feel that light fluttering deep inside you. 

The seconds almost seemed to drag on, each press of his cock against your walls and prod against that spot inside of you pushing you closer and closer to that edge. Dmitri’s thrusts were coming faster and deeper, the pleasure of those sensations making you moan and cry out more than you really had control over. 

“Dmitri…” you moaned. 

“I know,” he breathed, letting out what sounded like a curse in Russian. 

Mercifully, it seemed like the moment you had been waiting for was not as far off as you had been feeling. After a few more seconds, as much as it felt like time was dragging on indefinitely in the moment, Dmitri let out a deep moan and lifted his head to look at you again. 

“Cum for me,” he finally said, a command that took a few seconds to register but you were more than happy to oblige. 

You started to move your hips in time with his own again, only having to really hold on for more than a few more thrusts before that building pressure finally moved further down. You pressed your head back against the bed as your pussy clenched around Dmitri’s cock, the rush of your orgasm washing out his short praises and comments as you did so. Nor did you really catch the moment when Dmitri buried himself deep inside you and came with a low groan into your neck. You moaned and whimpered a little as the effects of your orgasm started to ebb out, your walls still clenching and fluttering lightly as your mind seemed to return to you. 

Dmitri still lay on top of you, his chest pressing against your own as he was catching his breath. You willed your legs to relax from where you still had them curled against his hips, which prompted him to shift to pull out of you before laying down against your side. 

“You are okay?” he asked after a few moments, which made you nod lightly with a small chuckle. 

“Yes.” 

You placed your hand over the arm Dmitri slung across your middle, smiling softly at the feeling of him pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. 

“I’ll get you back for this,” you muttered, feeling the tickle of Dmitri’s mustache against your skin as he grinned. “Just probably not tonight.” 

[fuctacles]

in love and war part 2

For Spicy Six Winter Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair

T | 2221 | feelings realization, bi awakening | read part 1 here | part 3 here

And this takes us to the present. The revenge plan.

The sun has just come up and there are four of them camping in Steve’s car, sharing thermoses full of hot beverages of choice. (Steve brought one full of hot cocoa and it's the crowd’s favorite.)

“Eddie is not an early riser, we’re wasting time,” Lucas complains while observing the trailer with his binoculars. 

“I think his uncle’s gonna wake him up for us,” Robin assures him. And like clockwork, Wayne Munson’s truck comes into view, almost knocking down one of their sculptures. The man steps out, takes a look at the dozen snowmen surrounding his trailer, and disappears inside. 

About fifteen minutes later, the curtains in one of the windows move. Steve’s buzzing in his seat. Or maybe just shivering. He reaches into his pocket for a tissue to wipe his runny nose.

“There’s a message!”

“Well, read it!”

“Nice move, Stevie,” Lucas reads the paper that appeared in the window. “Can’t play with you tho, I’m sick. Sad face.”

“Did he draw a sad face or…?”

“Of course, he drew it!”

Steve yanks the binoculars from Lucas to see for himself. The papers disappeared but Eddie took their place in the window, wrapped in a blanket. There’s a scarf around his neck and his nose is red. He looks bad.

“Damn. He really is sick.”

“Full offense but you look like shit, too.”

“Can it, Mayfield.”

He steps out and walks up to the trailer. Eddie finally spots him and he perks up and waves at him.

“Hi!” 

Even through the window, Steve can hear how croaky his voice is.

“Guess there goes your next campaign.”

Eddie laughs weakly, it turns into a cough.

“Guess so.”

“You started it,” he reminds him.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Why?” Steve frowns at him. Eddie shrugs.

“Seemed like a fun idea.”

“Imagine how much fun you could be having playing DnD now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves his hand. “But. You know.” He shrugs again.

“No, I don’t know.” He shakes his head, frowning again.

“You don’t play DnD.”

He taps against the glass nervously and Steve collects himself quickly.

“We can find something that doesn’t end with you in bed.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle with mischief and Steve immediately realizes the double meaning in his words.

“Okay, shut up.”

He turns around and leaves quickly. The inside of his car is surprisingly warm and he shivers from head to toe.

“Well, I’m leaving before I catch whatever this is,” Max eyes him before escaping the car. She stops once outside. “Lucas, you coming?”

The boy scrambles behind her.

“Let’s get you home,” Robin squeezes his arm. 

He takes one last glance at Eddie’s trailer and nods. 

It’s all misery from there. He makes camp in the living room because that’s where the tv is and he needs some entertainment while sitting on his ass and coughing. Robin takes stock of his medicine cabinet and whatever else he may need while housebound. She forces him to take his temperature. He’s prissy about it because it would make the sickness real, but it’s barely above average.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Robin pats him on the head while inspecting the thermometer. “Where’s your walkie?”

“There’s no need-”

“Little shitheads need to know they’re on their own. Or rather on their parent’s mercy.”

He nods.

“It should be on my desk.”

She’s gone for a while which makes him assume he’s excluded from the conversation. There’s probably a lot of yelling happening from the kids and Robin’s saving him the headache, bless her heart. She comes back eventually, walkie in hand. 

“I’ll leave it nearby in case you need anything, but I told them not to bother you, that you’ll contact them if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” he smiles. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” she smiles back. “Dustin isn’t happy, of course, but his mom said they’ll come with some soup later. Max said, and I quote “serves them well.”

“She's not wrong,” he mutters.

“Will and Lucas said they’re sorry. Will said Mike’s sorry too.”

Steve snorts.

“Course he did. What did Eddie say?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Either he was sleeping or too sick to speak up.”

“Huh.” He’s weirdly disappointed about that.

“Anyway, I gotta go to work now because my coworker called in sick.” She pats his knee as she stands up.

“Uh, I’m sorry?”

She shakes her head.

“You’ll pay me back when I come down with whatever I just caught from you. I’ll come over tomorrow with some movies. don’t forget Dustin’s coming later today!”

He groans.

“Right, of course.”

“Yeah, not jealous about that, buddy.” She pats his head. His hair is ruined enough that he doesn’t protest. “Walkie if you need anything, do not leave the house, keep yourself warm. Toodles!”

“See you, Rob.”

Later he has to listen to Dustin yelling at him from the other side of the room (“I’m not getting any closer to your germs, Steve!”). Claudia, the wonderful mom she is, doesn’t have such reservations and hands him the soup she brought after heating it.

“Dusty made us make rounds to all your friends to gather a care package for you.”

Steve makes a surprised sound over his cup.

“Being sick is so boring, we thought it could help!” Dustin adds, still yelling from afar. But the anger seems to have seeped out of him. “We’re going to Eddie’s next, his care package is cooler.”

“Dustin!”

Steve laughs.

“He’s probably right, Ms. Claudia, I don’t think our interests overlap as much as with Eddie.”

“Well, you’re gonna get educated because we do not have boring jock shit for you.”

“Dustin!”

“What?! It’s the truth!”

Steve snorts so hard, he needs a tissue.

After they leave, he digs into the care package like it’s a Christmas morning. Everything has little post-it notes with get-well wishes and signed who it’s from. From Robin, he got promised medication restock and some hard candy for his throat. Will gave him a copy of Hobbit and a tape which upon opening, turned out to have a small joint hidden inside, courtesy of Jonathan. El lent him a Wonder Woman comic. Dustin gave him a Batman comic and a handwritten guide titled “D&D for dummies”, that actually made him chuckle. At the bottom, probably because Dustin was ashamed of his friend, was an issue of Sports Illustrated with a note “Read the Magic Johnson interview!” and below that, a girly-looking magazine, dryly signed “from Erica.” He chuckled to himself and opened it first. Inside was another Post-it note that read “page 17”. Intrigued, he flips the pages to find it.

On page seventeen, there is a segment titled “Flirting or bullying?” and one of the questions/stories is highlighted with a pink marker. Steve gets to reading.

“Dear TM team,

My friend, S, is being followed by this boy who keeps starting snowball fights. He’s waiting for S’s shift to end, sitting in his van outside the shop to do so. It’s turning into a full-blown snowball war by this point. My other friend thinks they are pulling pigtails, but I just think they are dumb. So, is it flirting or boys being idiots? -E”

Steve drops the magazine and goes into the kitchen to have a refill of his soup.

When Robin comes in the next day, the magazine still lies where he left it, taunting him. His heart stutters when she picks it up with a laugh.

“I guess under all her snark Erica is just another girl, huh?”

Oh, how wrong she was.

He licked his dry lips before speaking up, barely audible and fucking terrified.

“Open it.”

Surprised, her eyes snap at him, but something in his tone makes her comply without a word. He pretends to busy himself studying the romcoms she brought.

“Huh,” he hears among the rustle of the pages. He looks up, too tempted to watch her face while she reads.

“What’s so fucking funny?” he asks, watching her lips quirk.

“Nothing!” she squeaks. “I’m surprised she did that.”

“I’m not. It’s Erica.”

“True,” she giggles, closing the magazine. He frowns at her.

“What did they say?”

“You didn’t read it?”

He taps his fingers against his mug.

“I chickened out,” he admits.

“Why don’t you ask Eddie yourself?”

“Robin,” he whines.

“Steve,” she whines back. She scoots closer and takes the mug out of his hand to lace their fingers together. “Listen, I rejected you and now we’re friends. You’re friends with Nancy too. You can let him down gently, it’s not the end of the world.”

“No, Robin…” He sighs, squeezing her hand. “I think I was, um… pulling his pigtails back.”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit,” he nods.

They look into each other’s eyes, giddy and nervous, before bursting into giggles. Their eyes fall back on the magazine. 

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Didn’t Eddie get a care package from them too?”

“Oh shit.”

“Dude I can’t stay here forever, pick up the phone!”

“Your yelling is really not helping me.”

“Oh, so you’d rather do it by yourself?”

He winces.

“No? Yes? I don’t know!”

She groans and he’s pretty sure she’s about to strangle him when the phone calls. They both jump and stare at it. Robin eyes him but he’s not moving a muscle so she groans and picks it up in the middle of the third ring.

“Yes?” She sounds calm and collected. “Oh, hi Eddie!” She smiles like an imp, staring straight into Steve’s soul. “You sound like shit.”

He makes a sound of protest, but she puts a hand up to stop him.

“Oh, you just got your voice back? And you’re calling Steve first thing? How sweet!” She’s making kissy faces at him and he’s about to commit murder. “Yes, he’s awake, I’ll get him.” She holds out the receiver. “For you.”

“Fucking obviously,” he murmurs, snatching it from her. She snickers.

“I’ll be in the living room,” she says and struts away, but he keeps an eye on her just in case she decides to eavesdrop. 

“Steve?” 

He does sound terrible.

“It’s me, hi.”

“Hi, um. Did you, by any chance, maybe, perhaps, get a care package from the kids?”

Steve’s insides twist.

“Yes?”

“From Erica too?”

“Yes.”

“A magazine?”

“Page seventeen?”

Eddie breathes hard into the receiver. 

“Yes, that.”

The silence hangs between them. His clogged sinuses make it hard to formulate thoughts.

“What did they say?”

“What?”

“Was it flirting or bullying?” he clarifies, fumbling with the cord. 

“You didn’t read it?”

“No.” He tries to find an explanation that doesn't sound bad. “Wanted to hear it from you.”

Eddie takes a ragged breath, it turns into a coughing fit. Steve frowns.

“You should go back to bed, we can talk about it later.”

“No!” Eddie protests straight away. Coughs a bit more. “I just… Yes, they say it was flirting,” he spits out.

Steve suddenly feels worse.

“But they were wrong,” he pushes for clarification.

Eddie sounded like they were.

“I don’t know,” he admits instead. Steve frowns.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You either flirt or-”

“I never thought about it, okay?” Eddie interrupts him. “I always assumed I’m into chicks but I’d definitely not flirt with one like that.”

It feels like a punch in the gut and Steve knows his own answer. Robin’s right, he’s survived rejection and unrequited feelings and got life-long friendships out of it. He can bear one more.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it was flirting on my part.”

Eddie starts coughing again.

“It’s okay if you weren’t i just wanted to be clear,” he adds as soon as the coughing subdues. “I never thought about it before either.”

“No, listen. Steve. Stevie.”

Steve’s stomach makes a backflip against his will.

“Yes?”

“I’m still thinking about it, okay? Just, the fever isn’t helping. Like, I want to say yes, but I’d rather say it when I’m not sick and half out of it, you know?”

Steve barks out a laugh, relieved and hopeful.

“Sure, makes sense. I’ll still be here.”

Waiting, like a dumbass.

“Cool. I’ll call you tomorrow, I’m out of stamina for today.”

“Sure, uh, sleep well.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

Steve’s too stunned by the pet name to put the phone away, so they just breathe into each other's ears, startled. But he won’t let Eddie one-up him like that.

“Goodnight, handsome.”

Eddie made a choked sound before ending the call. Steve puts the phone down and walks back into the living room, where Robin is waiting for him, the TV forgotten.

“Well? What did he say?” she asks before he can sit down.

“That he’s still thinking about it.”

“Nooooo!”

“But he did call me a sweetheart.”

“Oh?”

“I guess neither of us realized we were flirting.”

“Steve!” She starts slapping his arm.

“What? What?!”

“I hate you so much! You were each other’s gay awakening? How is that fair?!”

She’s pouting when he grasps her hands to stop the assault.

“Well, we can plot a snowball war against Vickie next,” he offers.

“Are you kidding me?! She’d hate it!”

Steve imagined a gaggle of kids ganging against the poor little redhead.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I guess men are a simpler species.”

“You are so lucky I love you.”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

oh you have A LOT OF TIME? 😁😁😁😁😁😁🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😘😘😘😘😘😘

If you wanna, I'd love to read

🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

💐💐💐��💐💐💐💐💐

I genuinely hope you have a lovely weekend, writing or not 😍😍😍😍😍

HAHA yay! THank you! I hope you have a wonderful weekend, too!

30 for CRANBERRY 🦮:

---

It takes longer than Buck would like to make it to the hospital. It’s further away. Not their usual destination when someone is hurt. Apparently they were at a call at an old property, some sort of farm, on the outskirts of the city. Pretty fucking random that the 118 got called there. 

When he arrives, finds a spot to park, and gets Cranberry out of the car, he finds himself practically jogging to find them. Which is slightly uncomfortable for him, he will admit. For anyone else, he wouldn’t bring Cranberry. He’d have left her home and dealt with it. Hospitals can be complicated with dogs. But if Eddie is upset, he’ll want her to be there. He’d never say it, but he’s grown pretty attached to her. They spend a lot of time together these days. 

“Bobby!” Buck calls, when he sees his old captain in the ER waiting room. It looks as though he’s waiting around, and everyone else has gone back to the station. Which means it must not be that bad.

Bobby turns to see him and looks relieved. 

“He’s just being discharged. You’re right on time.”

“What happened?” Buck asks. 

“Little boy fell down an old, out of use farm well. We had to drill down, and Eddie went in after him.” Bobby explains. 

Buck frowns, thinking of the weather. “But all the rain…”

Bobby nods. “We thought we’d taken precautions against him ending up stuck. You can ask Eddie what he did to circumvent those."

---

30 for ⚡️:

---

Buck makes a little moan of complaint and clings to him.

“Buck,” Eddie rasps. “Move.”

“So comfy,” Buck complains.

“I might puke,” Eddie admits.

Buck rolls off of him like he’s on fire. Eddie sees how it is. 

“You okay?” He asks.

“Mhm,” Eddie replies, peeling himself off the mattress to stumble towards the bathroom. “Still a little drunk.”

Buck yawns. “Me too maybe.”

Standing vertical without Buck on top of him, Eddie’s nausea subsides. He turns on the sink tap and drinks directly from it. 

“We’re too old for this shit,” Eddie decides, trying to remember how many shots Ravi kept handing them last night. Someone should probably check on him. He might be seventy percent alcohol this morning. He’ll text Adriana later and tell her to get a big ass pack of Gatorade. 

“Good thing it’s our only bachelor party ever,” Buck replies. 

Eddie peaks out of the bathroom and sees Buck has turned the right way in the bed, head on the pillow, snuggled under the comforter. Eddie would very much like to rejoin him. He splashes some water on his face, pees, washes his hands and brushes his teeth, then searches his bags for a small bottle of Tylenol they packed for exactly this reason. He grabs two tablets, dry swallows one, and takes the other to Buck. 

“Open up.” Edie instructs.

“That’s the worst way of asking for a blow job I’ve ever heard,” Buck replies without even opening his eyes. 

Eddie sighs. “Fine. Have a headache, then.”

---

24 for 👑:

---

He should have called in sick. He should have left them in a lurch, just this once. He has the staggering feeling that he’s blowing a rather important shot. 

Work is fine. They meet the new captain, Bobby Nash. He seems okay enough. Friendly, confident, competent. He doesn’t look disappointed to see Hen or Chim in his station, and that’s more than Chim can say about a lot of the jack asses he’s under. He seems to pay them equal regard before they have a call, and on their first call, actually watches them work and appreciates it. Chim will take it. He hopes the guy actually sticks around. 

Until the mid-afternoon, everything is just sort of okay. Chim wishes he wasn’t here, but that’s only because he has somewhere he’d rather be. It’s his own damn fault. 

Things take a bit of a change during some downtime. With their chores done, and not much going on - which will surely change as the night progresses and parties wind up - Hen and Chim take some time to sit and chat at the kitchen table over a coffee. He tells her all about running into Maddie at the bakery. The egg tart, the conversation, the party invites. All of it.

“Wow,” Hen says. “You really like her.”

“I really do,” Chim says. “Is that crazy? I barely know her.”

---

27 for 🩸:

---

Eddie rolls his eyes. But she’s right. He does feel that pressing need. He’s not sure how much of it is a natural calling, something to chase, or how much of it is a lifetime of conditioning. If he did something purely selfish, would he find that he likes it? Or would he be miserable? 

“Maybe there’s something,” he shrugs. 

There’s always the hot vampire trophy wife lifestyle to fall back on, as per Buck.

“You’ll figure it out,” May assures him confidently. “You’ve literally figured out way harder shit.”

“I guess that’s true,” Eddie admits. 

“Maybe like a telehealth sort of thing,” she continues. “You’re not a nurse but you’ve got a lot of knowledge.”

That’s not a bad idea. 

“Guess I’d have to look at the requirements.”

“Worth investigating,” May smiles.

Eddie takes a sip of his tea and begins Googling. 

It’s not just work he’s been thinking about. He’s taken all of her advice to heart. Hobbies, and all that. Finding things to look forward to that are just for him. He doesn’t want to be lonely and dependent on his family to come home to feel any joy. So he’s going to take May’s advice and run with it. 

One thing he thinks he’ll try is getting back into reading. He did it a decent amount as a teenager, before baseball and then Shannon took over his brain. With Sophia working at the library, she can pretty much bring him home whatever he needs, like she does for Chris. He certainly has the time for longer, more developed series.

---

27 for 🔮:

---

He sits cross legged on the church floor in front of Bobby. Like a dog, keeping vigil. Normally, this would be uncomfortable for him. Beyond the hard stone flooring, this position irks at the old wound in his leg. But, adding to his suspicion that this is just a coma dream, his leg doesn’t bother him at all. 

Although, what sort of coma allows insight to someone else’s memories?

To be fair, in his first coma dream, he could see Bobby, too. Hadn’t that been real? Bobby praying with his rosary beads. Buck doesn’t understand it, but he knows what he’s experienced. 

The whole church part of this funeral seems to go on forever. It’s longer than any funeral service Buck has ever attended. After what feels like a lecture on Bobby’s father paired with Biblical references, they move on to the Jesus cracker thing that Buck doesn’t really understand, and has never wanted to ask Bobby or Eddie about. Bobby walks up to eat one of the wafers. He repeats the prayers that feature some sort of call and response mechanism. He participates. He moves through it all as though by muscle memory. But his eyes are dead. He isn’t really there. This might not be the Bobby that Buck knows, but he knows his Bobby enough to know this distance. 

Things end with a choir singing. At this point, Bobby’s older brother softens. Cries, despite his clear anger. His mother weeps, too. Bobby remains frozen. Buck sort of wants to shake him.

---

33 for 🚨:

---

The best he has are the people around him and his gut. Which, he thinks, are good resources. 

“You have to trust yourself,” Bobby tells him. “You make better decisions than you give yourself credit for.”

So when Hen comes to them with an idea, a suggestion, Eddie tries to trust himself. He tries to listen to the instinct that has somehow steered him right lately. 

“If things get worse, Karen’s work is going to send her home.” Hen explains to Eddie, Chim, and Buck. “Upper management has discussed it already, and they’ll be transitioning as much as they can to remote.”

“That makes sense,” Chim says.

“Denny’s school is already discussing shut downs, too. Moving to online learning.”

“Christopher’s too,” Eddie nods. 

“Not all of us have that option,” Chimney says. “We can’t just stay home.”

“No,” Hen agrees. “But we can keep our families safe.”

Everyone looks at her.

“Eddie,” Hen takes a deep breath. “Christopher is at a heightened risk. Chim, Maddie is definitely at a heightened risk.”

“I know,” Chim looks at the ground. Buck pats his shoulder comfortingly.

“Christopher could stay with Karen,” Hen says.

Eddie goes rigid. “What?” 

“If we all stay at your house, and Christopher goes to Karen, then all our families are out of the worst of harm’s way,” Hen explains. “I know it’s a lot to ask you. I know you don’t want to be separated from Chris. But I can’t think of a better solution that protects everyone we love.”

What she’s suggesting settles over Eddie like a spot of light through a thick cloud. She’s right. He knows she’s right.

---

27 for 💐:

---

“Resident Advisor,” May says. “There’s two of us. We’re responsible for, like, student life on our floor. If one of the freshmen needs help or something, we’re there. We do get togethers and stuff.”

“Oh,” Buck says. “Well, that’s nice of you.”

“Not really. It’s free living. It’s a good deal.” May explains. “That’s why I did it.”

“Right. Altruism doesn’t pay the bills.” Buck nods.

“So the other girl?” Hen asks. “That’s who you’re avoiding.”

May nods. “We share a little unit and she’s in three of my classes. I cannot escape her.”

“Well, what’s wrong with her?” Hen asks. 

“Oh, everything,” May answers. Completely objectively with no drama or exaggeration. “She’s the worst. She’s, like, if I was going to have a nemesis.”

[bugslaststraw]

I was struck with a powerful vision a few days ago and I *want* to put this in fic form but I wouldn't know where to start finding those spoons so just hear me out okay: what if we straight removed Humanz. No hear me out I don't mean remove the stuff that happened in Humanz, I like what happens in Humanz, I just mean like. I know this couldn't ever have been canon, as the writers are making the story as they go, and I don't blame A&H & co. for the wonk, but the Humanz period of time existing makes the character progression/arcs feel iffy in some areas, and fucks with the pacing, so I still like to entertain this idea, what if Humanz was sort of... integrated elsewhere. This should've been a 15k word fic and I am so so mad that it can't be but here goes

Humanz happens during and after Now Now. Sandwich the two together and you get one longer period of time.

The hiatus is probably also longer, so it takes more time for the band to find their ways back to London.

This is crucial: Murdoc goes directly from Plastic Beach to exiled at sea to eventually jailed, and stays jailed until freemurdoc happens. When he's found floating around in a leaky submarine and taken in for whatever list of petty crimes they've managed to pin him for, he's drunk out of his mind rambling on about how nothing matters, the world's already ended and he's stranded in hell; that is, until someone informs him "if this is about your bandmates, they're fine. They recently went on air saying they're going to start playing again" and he goes "oh........wait without me?" Cue jail time.

I always preferred the idea that Noodle or Russel brought in Ace, mostly because imagine how pissed Murdoc would be about that. Being replaced is like his kryptonite (to be fair he has a lot of kryptonites) and I just find the mental image of him ranting to his cell partner about how they got another green guy so they CLEARLY miss him funny

Things seem to be going well for the New (Now) Gorillaz. They're playing again, a sudden flood of creativity leading them on. They're basically making two albums at once; Humanz, which had a political concept and a vision that was there from the start, and the Now Now, which started out as a sort of b-side that grew to develop its own personality as 2-D especially became enamoured with it. They dithered about which album to put Strobelite in.

Cont. under cut cus long ass post:

The Strobelite music video does happen, minus Murdoc side plot of course. Not sure about Saturn Barz. No I don't care about the stupid meme.

However, Russel and Noodle can't find peace. Originally they think they're alone in that feeling, until they come together to talk about it one night and realize that they both feel on edge and uncomfortable. They can't really figure out why; not being equipped with quite enough emotional intelligence to realize that failed suicide attempts, getting dragged to Hell, almost dying at sea twice, spending years in self imposed exile chasing demons or being stuck in a glass tube for five years might leave you with some mental scarring. Rather than feel warm and welcome, the bright sunlight on LA beach gives them both headaches, and although they try to hide it, and do so very well, they find themselves never quite being able to enjoy their newfound peace.

2-D on the other hand genuinely feels on top of the world. As with regular Now Now he has time to regain his ego during this period, "reset himself and get back on track" after Plastic Beach, as he puts it. He's free now, properly, and revels in it, getting to learn and re-learn new skills, and he writes a lot during this period, proper creativity finally coming back to him.

That's not to say that Murdoc is forgotten; anything but, in fact, Murdoc has gravity, and the rest of the band (and 2-D especially) still subconsciously orbit around his absence. Big difference is; 2-D is aware of it. He knows he can't get rid of Murdoc and he knows, with a light-hearted, almost smug sort of resignation, that he's probably not going to stop forgiving him either. Maybe I'm some kind of a masochist, he thinks to himself. Oh well.

So he takes to taunting Murdoc every chance he gets, like with Humility, for example. Strutting around his absolute freedom from outside the prison walls, asking how does it feel, huh? and almost daring Murdoc to come get at him again, knowing that he can't ("calling the hunter with the rifle; if you're coming back to find me you'd better have good aim.")

This is all obviously sort of subtextual, but it's the vibe I get from Now Now anyway: Memory famously gains rose tinted glasses, so 2-D finds himself thinking back on Plastic Beach more fondly than he knows it should be remembered, almost feeling sorry for his ex-captor. Although he knows that's probably not a healthy mindset to have, it makes him feel really good for some reason, so he indulges in that too, occasionally fantasizing about the day Murdoc's let out of jail and comes back to them, because saying "I forgive you" after all this would be such a power move, wouldn't it? He can hardly wait, yet in a way loves the wait as well, trying to savour the last few moments (years) just before catharsis.

Obviously this all drives Murdoc absolutely up the walls, and his fellow inmates have a fond memory of that one time he threw a fit in the cafeteria about it (eg: that's MY thing he's fucking STEALING MY SIGNATURE MOVES don't be fooled by his stupid innocence-play and pretty face ok this smug piece of SHIT is TAUNTING ME LET ME OUT I NEED TO KILL HIM)

When not raging, he's usually begging Noodle to let him help them make music over the phone. He sends her blocks of lyric/hastily scribbled notes when he can, and wrote most of She's My Collar, which the others picked up, found a guest for, added to, and in 2-D's case practiced obsessively for (implied to be because he knew killing the performance of such a mature song (with his very wholesome, innocent public image, no less) would, again, drive Murdoc nuts.)

Mudz also still tries to pull the whole "I was framed by a demon thing" lie, which none of them believe, for obvious reasons.

Noodle is vaguely aware of 2-D's agenda and angrily side-eyes him every time he comes up with a lyric she finds suspicious, which is more often that he actually means anything by it (eg; the mirrored world lines in Saturn Barz and the like.) She's slowly developing a persistent urge to shake her friend/adoptive brother by the shoulders and shout "STOP GIVING HIM ATTENTION HE FEEDS ON IT LIKE A LEECH. YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS" until he stops.

Noodle and Russel are also still wondering if the guy's possessed by something, and the idea that it might be El Mierda feels logical to them considering his mood.

Ace, not being very close to the rest of the band, picks up on almost none of this; assumes Noodle and Russel are doing fine and that 2-D genuinely hates Murdoc rather than whatever the hell is actually going on. He is never let in on the possession thing and bugs Russel about tripping 2-D up in Humility. He's there to be a little shit and enjoy the good vibes, he says, and that's what he'll do, but there's no need to fight now, is there?

Everything is, apart from that, going just fine. And then Murdoc, at least to the knowledge of the world in general, drowns in a sewer. Which obviously is bound to become a bit of a problem.

More accurately; it grinds everything to a halt. At this point Noodle is already out of England, looking for El Mierda, and finds out when her plane lands and she can call her band. She tries to get ahold of 2-D first, but he doesn't pick up, so she calls Russel, hoping he can help her. They talk a lot that night, over the phone, her sitting bent over the table in an empty cafeteria at the airport.

Russ has known for a day or so at that point, while she's just found out. He tries to explain things to her and sort of distance himself from the conflict as a whole while she's fuming, absolutely livid, because how dare he, how dare Murdoc send her into the mountains on a dangerous mission and then just die in the most ridiculous way possible on top of that? He tells her 2-D's gone very, very quiet since he found out.

They come to the same agreement eventually. "He was such a shithead. Literally not worth being stepped on like a bug and I hate him. And I'm gonna miss him. How fucked up isn't that?"

To Russ and Noodle's knowledge, no more music is really produced at that point.

There's one (to Russel very memorable) instance where Ace makes a misplaced attempt to lighten the mood ("yeah, but, c'mon, the old man was pretty awful, no need to get all teary over someone like that, c'moon let's just get back to what we were doi-") and 2-D breaks his nose over it.

Aside from that, that handful of weeks is slow, silent, and confusing.

On the plane from England to Patagonia, Murdoc listens to Souk Eye exactly once and has since avidly refused to ever do it again and won't explain why.

Cue the ending of freemurdoc, Noodle kicking snow for half an hour to stop herself snapping her awful adoptive father's spine like a toothpick, "you're like a family to me!! You're the daughter, Russel's the son, an' 2-D is uuuhh. The uh. The. House cat," etc etc

When they make the trip back home, a week or so later, the world already knows that Murdoc isn't dead, and so does the rest of the band. Ace dips, stating that he "would rather not be around when ol' Muddy shows back up if you catch my drift."

2-D, who's romantic idea of a triumphant reunion is shattered, is conflicted and nervous up until the point Murdoc shows back up, ("heyyy gang, sorry we're late; I almost drowned in a sewer and the trip back was awful, they didn't even have drinks on the plane, also sorry about lying, hope you don't mind, also here's a yak") when he goes from blank staring to a fit of laughter that makes everybody involved worry for his sanity to "I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD YOU PIECE OF SHIT HOW DARE YOU BE SORRY NOW" to the four of them eating takeaway noodles on the floor of their studio in dead silence as Murdoc tries to avoid eye contact and 2-D stares at him as if he's imagining eating him

Humanz is finalized, and Murdoc happily partakes in some of the interviews and promo for the album. Seemingly, everything is normal again. But upon any kind of closer inspection he comes off as almost nervous, jittery, raw and easily upset. Something has changed, and he hasn't caught up yet. There's a tension still among the group.

When Humanz is finally released, they all swear to each other they have no idea where Busted and Blue even came from. Well, three out of four swear, and the fourth just sort of gives them a weird look and mutters something vaguely denying.

And then it transitions directly into Song Machine, which directly deals with the set-up we already have! The power dynamics in the group have changed, everyone is confused on how things work now, Noodle is annoyed with 2-D and how easily he's forgiven Plastic Beach, Russel is resigned about the same, and Murdoc himself tries to claw his way back to the top but can't, as 2-D has finally slipped through his hands to join the others well out of his direct control. And we all know what happens in Song Machine, so I hardly need to recount that

Ok done now :)