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scarletttries · 3 months

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When The Straw Hats Fall In Love... (One Piece Request)

Pairings: Luffy x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Nami x Reader, Usopp x Reader

Monkey D. Luffy

- When Monkey falls in love he's not even sure he can put his finger quite on what's happening to him. All he knows is that he likes it. A lot.

- Luffy gets excited when any new pirate joins his crew, his constant ability to see the best in people never ceasing to amaze the rest, but when you first set foot aboard the Merry it's better than he could have ever imagined.

- When you're around he feels a new level of confidence, like he's two steps closer to achieving his dream and everything is working out for him just how it's supposed to be. He wakes up every morning and practically bounces out of bed at the thought of seeing your smile and sharing his thoughts from the night before with you.

- He loves all his friends, but with you he feels a thousand feet tall, stomach bubbling up in excitement, no matter how much he's eaten. He's always bothering Nami at her desk trying to find cute islands to stop off at along the way, just in case that would make you smile and his life would feel complete once again.

- It would be Nami too that first helped Monkey realise just what he's feeling. The first time he skipped a meal to keep you company on your watch she'd realise this is more than just the usual Luffy charms. She'd be surprisingly thoughtful as she sat him down and talked him through what his feelings might mean, and if he thought it was at all possible he might like you more than a friend. What she wasn't expecting was for him to cheer at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of the whole crew as he climbs aboard the table and screams for all to hear 'I'M IN LOVE!"

- Naturally the first thing he has to do is find you. He doesn't worry about if you don't feel the same way, because honestly that wouldn't make this feeling any less sweet, and if someone loved him this way, he'd definitely want to know. You'd be pulled from whatever you were concentrating on with a quick rap of knuckles against the door frame before Luffy charged in anyway, limbs flying everywhere as his feet skid to a halt just in front of you.

"Hey (y/n)! Nami just helped me realise I'm in love with you! Isn't that great?!" It's hard not to be taken aback by this, but with his big smile beaming at you, the young man practically vibrating with excitement at just the presence of his love, your heart quickly follows suit. Before you've even finished telling him that you feel the same his arms around wrapped tightly around you, pulling you into a hug of fierce adoration that he plans to repeat at least 100 times a day.

- Prepare yourself for; Surprise hugs and kisses when you least expect them, Luffy clinging to you every night without fail, afternoons spent on the ship's figurehead while he shouts echoing compliments to the oceans, midnight feasts, island adventures passed hand in hand, being told you are one of his new dreams, and unwavering support and loyalty.

Zoro

- Zoro knows exactly what that uncomfortable aching deep in his chest is, he just wasn't expecting to find it so distracting.

- Your voice calling his name echoes through his mind as he tries to practice his sword training, stirring enough that he finds himself glancing over his shoulder periodically just to ensure you haven't snuck up behind him, probably to check on him in that soft, selfless way you often do.

- Your face is the last thing that flashes before his eyes whenever he's in the throes of a sword fight, an extra consideration in how hard he has to fight to survive, to make sure he always makes it home safe to you. He'll never admit it but after a particularly dangerous day he'll often be found sleeping against the wall beside your cabin door. He finds he can't sleep sometimes unless he knows you're safe, and he'd never be so bold as to invite himself in.

- Your laughter always manages to bring a smile to his face, so much so that he envies Sanji's ability to make witless retorts that always manage to draw that sweet sound out of you. He asks Usopp to teach him a few jokes, but quickly leaves that lesson when he realises all these 'jokes' are just long stories of his so-called bravery.

- Zoro finds when he lays down to sleep, you are all he can dream of. The times you spoke that day, the way you looked as you shared a meal with the others, the efforts you put in to keep the crew safe and well. It floods his chest with warmth as you dance through his thoughts, spurring him to try and find even more excuses to be close to you the following day. To have a few extra moments by your side to help him drift off again.

- Zoro may think he's a stoic man of mystery, but after the first time he falls asleep leaning against your doorframe you start to get an idea of the depth of his feelings. You watch him warm to you and you alone, chasing your company every chance he can take it, and keeping a watchful eye over you whenever the situation turns dangerous. So after one of your more dangerous adventures, you listen out for the tell tale clanging of his swords as he sets up his camp outside your door, and finally you pull it open just a touch, enough for your words to escape without the swordsman having to face you.

"I always feel safer with you near Zoro, but why don't you come in so you can rest a bit more comfortably too?" You listen to the heavy pause your invitation leaves in the air until finally the door pushes slightly more open, and Zoro steps into your cabin, more bashful than you've ever seen him. As you take him gently by the hand and lead him to the untucked edge of your bed, you can feel your own heart swell with anticipation, the threshold of your door crossed and an invisible boundary broken down along with it.

- Prepare yourself for; furtive smiles thrown your way when no-one else is looking, a firm hand on yours whenever you two have to leave the ship, nights passed in peaceful quiet with Zoro's head resting on your lap, Zoro never far away when you're going about your day, grumpy grunts whenever Sanji flirts with you, and quiet confessions of the depths of his love when all is dark and still.

Nami

- Nami is furious. She's spent so much time and work putting up walls and barriers to keep her heart safe. To keep herself undistracted. To make sure she's a lone wolf that can look after number one when she needs to. And you hopped over every wall of her fortress with a simple hello and a trusting smile.

- Nami's the type to be in denial at first. She can't get lost in your beauty if she barely makes eye contact with you. She can't hang on your every word if you two hardly talk. She can't be in love with you if she convinces herself that she can't stand you, and keeps herself busy and out of your way.

- Unfortunately for her, absence only makes the heart grow fonder, and all of her efforts to change her mind only leave her craving your company even more. When she relents and sits next to you for the next cabin meal she feels a surge of guilt at her avoidance when you offer her the widest smile and say you're so happy to see her after she's been so busy. You were worried she wasn't looking after herself so you make sure Sanji gives her the biggest bowl before Luffy can come and claim it. At that point Nami knows there's no use fighting her feelings for the one person she can trust to look after her and her heart, even if she's spent most of her life convincing herself she doesn't need that. Her hand slides slowly across the bench until her little finger brushes against yours, the brief contact enough to light a spark in you both.

"I'll be around a lot more now."

- Prepare yourself for; Late night confessions under the stars, sitting with your legs intertwined as she works on maps, Nami always taking the seat next to yours and giving a death glare if one of the boys gets there first, evenings passed in small town bars learning card games and scooting your seats ever closer to each other, arms wrapping around your waist whenever you're working on something that requires your full attention, and being the safest place for one another in a chaotic pirate life.

Sanji

- Sanji has felt the aching touch of affection before, the ever flirty chef finding himself distracted by the beauty of many passing women, but from the minute he lays eyes on you, he knows he's never felt like this.

- He wants to flirt with you the way he's been practicing for years, but he finds whenever you smile up at him he gets short on breath and can only stare helplessly at you while you fill in the awkward silence. It takes him weeks of desperate longing before he can even hold a conversation with you, the sly smile plastered on his face more sincere than he would ever let on.

- He makes all your favourite foods, as often as he can get away with, putting in extra care and attention to the plate he plans to give to you. Every time you hum happily and praise his work, he feels weightless and euphoric, grateful for the hours spent honing his craft for the opportunity to impress you.

- It becomes a running joke amongst the crew that you're the only person Sanji won't flirt with, the behaviour all the more obvious by how red he turns whenever Zoro points it out to him, taking the chance to do an awful impression of Sanji flirting with you and coming out with lines Sanji views as completely unworthy of your ears. The truth is there's nothing he could say to make you love him with the unwavering depth that he loves you, no words that could capture the sheer wonder of your essence, the light that shines on him with every moment spent in your presence.

- You decide to take mercy on the chef one morning, waking before the rest of the crew and joining Sanji in the kitchen while he prepares to make everyone breakfast. He thinks about making a heartfelt comment about 'to what does he owe the pleasure of your company' or 'how it's unfair to visit him so early as it means his day will have already peaked' but he can't find the combination of words you deserve to hear so instead he just beams and says good morning, eyes devoted following your movements as you settle onto the kitchen counter beside where he's working.

"Sanji, why don't you flirt with me?" The question has hung in the air unspoken a dozen nights before, but today it's fired directly at him, sending his pulse racing as his mouth seems to seal shut of its own accord. He puts down the bowl he was intently stirring and approaches you instead, carefully tiptoeing the so obvious line between you.

"Well when I flirt with everyone else it's just harmless fun. It doesn't mean anything."

"And what would it mean with me?" He should have seen your follow up coming, the knowing look in your eyes spurring him to finally voice the affections that have plagued him for weeks.

"Everything." He watches open mouthed as your fingers run down the length of his tie before capturing the end, pulling him slowly towards your grinning lips and finally letting him find his confidence again.

- Prepare yourself for; breakfast in bed that quickly descends into heated kisses, being lifted onto the kitchen counter so Sanji can periodically stop by to kiss you while he cooks, cakes with soppy sentiment iced on top left outside your door throughout the day, unwavering physical affection regardless of whose around, a litany of sweet nicknames muttering directly into your ear as he nuzzles into your neck, and your lips being the sweetest thing the chef has ever tasted.

Usopp

- Usopp is no stranger to the feelings of love, having already stilled his heart once for a love that couldn't be, he finds himself once again falling head over heels when you enter his life.

- A man of outlandish tales and dramatic exploits, the first hint that you might be someone special to him is the fact that when he's alone with you he only wants to tell the truth. No dramatics, no exageration, when he's with you Usopp just wants to tell you everything that he's ever experienced exactly as it happened. He needs you to know the truth about his life, he needs you to see the real him, he needs you to look at him for exactly who he is, so you can decide if that's an Usopp you can love.

- He often offers to make you a warm tea before bed, when the ship is quiet and he can steal a moment of privacy, so the two of you can stare out the small rounded windows in your cabins and just let your thoughts and feelings spill out like water bubbling too close to the surface. He finds himself enthralled with your reactions to his tales, the kindness you offer him when he speaks of his mother, the genuine praise to even his minor accomplishments, and the shared joy when you two recount you time with Luffy.

- When he ends your talks, when you're both struggling to keep your eyes open and threatening to drift off in each other's arms and he finally gets up the resolve to excuse himself so you can rest, he always ends them by telling you that you're the only person who knows that story. You think he's just making you feel special, that he's known for sharing these glimpses into his past, but the truth is that you ARE special and only you have ever heard this side of Usopp before.

- Usopp speaks so honestly and so freely around you that he finds himself having to hold back describing his feelings for you most nights. He hates that that's the one thing he's yet to be honest about, but he knows that with every passing night, his confession only becomes more inevitable. What he doesn't expect is you leaning across the small bench you two are curled up on and placing a soft kiss on his cheek at the end of one night, and telling him you hope he will always share his stories with you. The beaming smile on his face as he promises he'll keep telling you stories forever, leaning back in for a kiss of his own, reveals as much as his words do.

- Prepare yourself for; Usopp dancing with you at inopportune moments, you being the greatest source of his strength and bravery, hunting through markets for little matching accessories, lying on the beach together whenever an island's weather allows, never keeping any secrets, and the arms of the bravest pirate boyfriend constantly wrapping around your waist.

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traumatrios · 3 months

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thinking about…

luke taking care of you when you’re sick.

one morning you’ll wake up and suddenly your throat is sore as fuck and you can’t breathe through your nose— a deadly combination. coupled with the fact you have scattered bruises and growing pains sprouting in your body, to say the least, you were not going outside today.

now this probably developed from overworking your body and mingling with various campers because i mean, it was bound to happen to somebody!

luke would have to find out about your sickness from one of your siblings, but he’d be hot in his heels to get to your bedside. you don’t even realize he’s there until you feel the callused skin of his knuckles pressing against your forehead and his worried voice muttering a, “gods, you’re burning up on me, angel.”

the medic cabin doesn’t really take in run-of-the-mill sick campers because they like to keep the beds open at all times but luke convinces them to let you lay in a cot so your cold doesn’t affect your siblings.

so you lay in a cot all day. luke managed to cancel almost all of his sword fighting lessons (leaving a few to spare because you were stubborn on not letting him get stuck in here with you). he’d practically be shoving water and mortal medicine (aka aleve) into your mouth, with a hearty and warm meal when appropriate.

say you’re a child of athena, whom we know is graced with the powerful yet self deprecating trait of ambition. you’d be begging to finish up work or helping annie with strategies for future games and luke would be there to press your shoulders back on the thin mattress of the cot and tuck you in so you’re as snug as a bug in a rug.

or let’s say you’re a child of apollo, nearly being brought to tears when you hear your own gravely and weak voice echo through the air. “my poor voice!” you’d cry “what will i have if i don’t have my voice?” and luke would just sit there with a tired sigh and the roll of his eyes.

he’d always have his hand around a Kleenex box because he always seemed to sense when you’d sneeze and would shove it into your chest quick enough so you could catch whatever resulted in said sneeze.

or imagine lowkey germaphobe!luke triple masked and gloved— he might as well have a full hazmat suit on. you’d go the entire day shooting him a side eye when he’d jump back in his stool if you’d so much cough in his direction.

either way he would never leave your side until you were better :)

loverschatbox, 2024

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #della writes

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marksmelodies · 6 months

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lovestruck

idol mark lee x fem nct member reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: suggestive, sex, mentions of sex

minors dni

note: one thing about me is i will eat the one bed trope up everytime

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you and mark are close, considering you’re both in the same units you guys spend a lot of time together, you both get along really well and your friendship is easy going, at least that’s what everybody thinks

the truth is you’ve have had a massive crush on him since you became apart of nct, it was like love at first sight for you, the first time you saw him butterflies invaded your stomach and to this day you still get that feeling when you look at him

on the plane currently flying to japan to preform at the nct nation concert you sit next to taeil as your head begins to lean on his shoulder falling fast asleep, “y/n psst y/n wake up we’re here” you feel somone shaking your arm, taeil and mark stand over you as you blink a few times rubbing your eyes “oh okay thanks” you say getting up and collecting your belongings before leaving the plane

you head straight to soundcheck after the flight, you and your members all gather at the arena, walking over to jaemin you lean the top of your head to his chest and he pets your hair “how was your flight?” you ask since you two didn’t fly together “it was good i slept the whole time” he said as you laugh “i did too, i fell asleep on taeil”

you, mark and haechan switch between stages for different units practicing for the show, after long hours of hard work you’re finally able to go to the hotel, as you arrive it was decided that you and mark would share a room since everyone else was already paired up, once getting checked in everyone went to their respected rooms

mark opens the door as you follow behind him into the room, you both look at each other with wide eyes as you notice there’s only one bed.

“um i-i can go get the staff and have them sort it out or i could just sleep on the floor or something” mark stutters scratching the back of his head

honestly you were way too sleepy to even care “i don’t mind really im just exhausted let’s not disturb the staff they’re probably just as tired” you say dropping your bags on the floor

“yeah you’re right it’s not a big deal” mark says before opening his suit case “you showering first or am i?” mark asks

“you can shower first, i’ll order us some food what do you want?” you ask as he gives you his order making his way to the bathroom, you ordered the food as you sit on a chair in the corner of the room “oh my god i’m sharing a bed with mark” you realize

this isn’t the first time you and mark shared a room, you’ve shared rooms before but not often, usually jaemin was your roommate for tours with nct dream and taeil was your roommate for 127 but sometimes it would get switched and you’d end up with a different member, you two sharing the bed however would be the first, you hear the water stop, you try and act natural scrolling aimlessly through your phone “oh shit” you hear mark whisper through the door, he comes out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist “sorry i forgot something” he says grabbing a pair of boxers before heading back into the bathroom

“stop it, he’s your co worker that’s weird” you tell yourself as you feel yourself getting wet from the sight of him, finally he walks out again completely dressed as he shakes his head in attempt to dry his hair “the bathrooms all yours” he says walking over to sit on one side of the bed

you turn the shower on as you feel the warm water hit your back, as you shave your body you can’t help but imagine mark naked, his dick moving in and out of your pussy as you moan his name running your hands through his dark hair “ fuck” you say to yourself as you become extremely horny, you finish up trying to ignore the feelings in between your legs as you dry off and change into your pajamas that consist of white cotton shorts with tiny red hearts all over them and matching cami top, you look at yourself in the mirror noticing your pajamas are quite revealing, your shirt was slightly cropped showing off the diamond of your belly button piercing as and your shorts showed the tiniest bit of ass peaking through the bottom

you sigh before drying your hair and doing your skincare routine, putting lotion, deodorant and perfume on considering you were going to be sharing a bed with the man of your dreams you wanted to smell addicting

opening the door you see mark laying in bed on his phone, the delusions are running wild in your mind “he looks so good” you say to yourself as you walk to your suitcase putting some things back into it, mark looks to you and then to what you’re wearing, his eyes widen, as much as he tries not to.. at the end of the day he’s still a man, his eyes travel down to your ass as you’re bent over in front of him rummaging through your suitcase, once you stand up he looks at your boobs practically spilling out of your top, the blood quickly runs to his dick as he tries his best to hide the growing boner under the sheets “damn it y/n” he cusses in his head as he desperately tried to palm himself without you knowing

as you were about to lay next to him in bed the knock on the door keeps you from doing so “oh that must be the food” you say exactly walking to the door

“mark the foods here” you tell him as you set everything up on the table, he gets up taking his food before sitting down across from you “oh my gosh this is so good” you practically moan as your eyes roll in the back of your head, in any other circumstance mark would have just found it a funny gesture to how much you love food but he was extremely turned on and what you just did made it so much worse

mark nearly chokes on the food in his mouth as he hears the moan leave your lips, the thinks about how you would sound in bed as he fucks deep into you, “how are you feeling about tomorrow” you ask him bringing him back from his thoughts “oh um i’m pretty confident with everything i think we’ll all do really good, im excited” he smiles at you “i agree” you say finishing up your food

you and mark both stand in front of the bathroom mirror brushing your teeth, the bathroom was small making it hard to move around with two people, you stand by the sink as mark hears his phone go off “i should probably check that” he says with the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, he attempts to scoot behind you but as he does his dick accidentally slides across your ass as he leaves the room

you stand there in complete shock to what just occurred and on the other side of the room mark does the same, both of you however acted like nothing happened as you continue finishing getting ready for bed

“i’m gonna sleep on the floor” mark says as you approach the bed

“mark don’t be stupid, get in bed, your whole body is going to ache if you sleep on the ground and we have a show tomorrow” you say to him getting under the sheets as he sighs doing the same, both of you are on the edge of the bed in attempt to be as far away from each other as you possibly can “goodnight mark” you say turning off the light “goodnight y/n”

it was silent the both of you were to scared to move which resulted in feeling really uncomfortable and not able to fall asleep, without thinking you shift you body away from the edge and closer to mark, mark turns his head looking at you before scooting closer as well, shoulders practically touching its impossible not to feel the sexual tension between the both of you, it’s almost too much to handle, the more tired you get the more bold you become due to your slight deliriousness

the both of you turn your heads towards each other at the same time locking eyes “mark” you whisper inching closer to him really hoping you aren’t misreading the signs, you’re both inches away you can feel his breath coming from nose, you place one of your hands on his stomach and he slightly flinches from your touch as he blinks at you before he makes his move

mark places a hand to your cheek before leaning in closer “can i kiss you” he asks looking at your lips “yes please” you beg before his lips smash into yours, it was a heated kiss, his hands move from your face and behind roaming your body as one of them lands on your ass scooting you even closer, he slightly grabs your ass causing you to slightly moan into the kiss, mark pulls away as you both catch your breath “god you smell so good” mark says as he looks into your eyes

“mark i need you” you whine as he looks to you with big eyes “are you sure” he asks as you nod your head yes “im so sure” you say tracing his abs

you’re now underneath him as his lips are back on yours, tongues fighting for dominance as mark clearly wins, he trails kisses down your neck and chest as his hands play with the hem of your shirt “can i take it off” he asks as you give him permission

mark groans from the sight of your boobs, feeling like i virgin again who can’t control himself over a pair of tits “fuck your so pretty” he says looking at you before his lips attach themselves to one of your boobs at he plays with the other “mark” you whimper as your hand goes straight to his hair “you like that baby? you like your tits getting sucked” he says leaving a few kisses to your nipple before trailing more kisses down your body “when did you get this” he asks pointing to your belly piercing, you chuckle at his obliviousness “like two years ago”. to be fair you never showed much skin to the members so you wouldn’t have expected mark to know “it’s so hot” he replies before moving up to give you a kiss on the lips “you’re so hot y/n” he says kissing you once more, you give him permission to keep going as he takes off your pants

“no underwear?” he asks smirking at you “and here i thought you were so innocent” he says before pulling his own shirt off along with his shorts leaving him in nothing but his boxers

“mark fuck me please” you whine

“be patient baby, be a good girl for me” he says as he pulls his boxers off causing his hard cock to smack against his stomach, you gulped at his size, honestly you were not expecting that from mark but he was bigger than what you’ve ever handled

mark spreads your legs as he stand on his knees in between them looking to you for one last yes before he slowly pushes his dick into you causing you both to moan “you’re pussy is so pretty baby,fuck princess you’re so wet for me” he says pushing himself deeper “you’re so tight babe, you feel so good” he says leaning over to hover you “mark you’re so big” you moan holding both of your hands to his face pulling him into a kiss

mark lets you get used to his size before finding his rhythm as he fucks into you faster and faster, you wrap your legs around his hips as your head falls back letting out moans

“you sound so pretty for me baby” he says interlocking your hands together on the mattress as he gently pins you down “god you feel so good” he repeats himself as he takes his hands from yours grabbing onto your waist as he takes himself out of you roughly ramming back into you, he does that a few times before he brings your legs over his shoulders fucking himself deeper into

“fuck mark i’m going to cum” you moan as a smile creeps onto his face “ cum for me princess” he says as you let yourself go feeling tingles shoot through your body “mark” you moan as your legs begin to shake

“good girl, you’re doing such a good job for me baby, you’re taking me so well” he says kissing your lips

he switches positions again as your legs are now pressed against your chest, the headbord is smashing against the wall as the bed slightly creeks due to his fast thrusts

mark feels you tightening around his cock as he brings his fingers to your clit roughly rubbing it until your jaw goes slack as strings of moans leave your body and your legs shake announcing your orgasm as he lets you ride it out

mark feels himself getting close as well as he pounds himself into so hard you start to see stars, he brings his hand up wrapping it around your throat as his thrusts become sloppy and his head hangs low “fuck i’m coming baby, i’m coming” he says as his hands go back to your hips before you feel a warm sensation fill you “fuckkk” he moans as his cum releases into your slightly fucking the cum deeper into you before pulling out as it leaks out from you whole “ fuck that’s hot” he says pushing his cum back into your pussy causing you to squirm

he kisses your lips as you look up to him completely out of it “look at you so fucked out for me princess” he says pushing your hair out of your face as he gets out of bed to clean you up

laying on his chest as the both of you lay under the covers completely naked “mark?” you say playing with his fingers “yes baby?” he says looking down at you “do you actually like me or did you just want to fuck” you ask almost regretting it

mark sits up a bit making you sit up as well as he grabs your chin making you look up at him “i’ve been in love with you for a long time, you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this” he says kissing your lips “everything i said was true,you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen” he says

you look up to him with a big smile “good because i’ve been in love with you for as long as i can remember” you say settling back down into his chest “i wished we had figured this out sooner” you laugh “yeah me too baby” mark responds

“you’re my girl you know that?” he says rubbing your stomach

“i wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s” you say as your eyes begin to drift off into a deep sleep

the next morning you wake up to johnny, jaehyun,jeno and jaemin bursting into your room

“get up love birds and get decent, we have breakfast to attend to” johnny yells throwing a pillow at you two as you lay cuddled next to eachother without a single piece of clothing on

“yo get out” mark says waving his hands to shew them away as they all chuckle before leaving “hope you used protection” jaemin yells before closing the door

you and mark shoot up starting at eachother remembering the events of last night and how you in fact did not use protection

“fuck”

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#nct dream #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct 127 #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x you #mark lee fic #mark lee fanfic #mark lee nct #mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct u #nct u x reader

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leaentries · 8 months

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welcome back | luke hughes

summary: when someone insults you at the devil's welcome-back party, luke doesn't take it lightly.

warnings: rude comments about weight, pretty much straight-up bullying, a stranger being a complete dickwad, swearing, making-out

wc: 1.3k+

Luke absolutely adored you. In his eyes, you hung the moon and painted every last star. That’s why he often got distraught and confused when people felt the need to comment about your appearance. Now, it was very clear that you were bigger than the typical girl, but it just made Luke love you that much more.

The ceiling was littered with glittering lights, and the walls were covered in black and red decor. The annual welcome-back party was in full swing, couples and players alike mingling in every corner of the large room.

It was quite obvious that the Devil’s organization spared no expense in planning this event. It was grand, to say the least. A highly sought-after DJ stood at his booth in the center of the room, playing any song imaginable. Yet, you were too enamored with the brunette in front of you.

Luke was dressed in a sleek black suit with a jacket perfectly tailored to cling to the hard muscles on his arms, displaying them with any slight movement. His white dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned as the room got hotter. Luke’s tie had been ditched within the first five minutes of arriving, as he claimed it was “choking him.” You could barely tear your eyes away, even for a moment. However, the feeling was very much mutual. With the dress you had on, Luke was practically drooling all over the table.

You wore the very dress that could make Luke fall to his knees. The material hugged every curve of your body in the most flattering way. Luke could have sworn he fell in love with you all over again the second you walked out of your apartment. Anyone in the room could see the love swimming in waves around the both of you.

You quietly talked amongst yourselves, at least until Jack and Nico made their way to your table. The conversation quickly changed to the upcoming opener, the boys eager to start the season. Only half-listening, you noticed the food being restocked. You figured Luke was probably starving since the two of you had spent almost all day getting ready.

You lightly gripped the arm that rested next to you, gaining his attention. “I’m gonna go make us some plates.” You nodded towards the freshly made food. He agreed immediately, solidifying your previous assumption. You stood, placing a gentle kiss on the top of Luke’s head as you made your way to the buffet.

You grabbed two pearly white plates, setting them in front of you as you began to put all of Luke’s favorites onto his plate. You piled as much as the porcelain could handle, then proceeded to fill your own. You balanced the two plates, getting ready to walk away when a male voice sounded from beside you.

“Two plates, seriously?” You turned towards the rough voice, clearly confused as to what you thought you heard.

“Excuse me?” You replied, a slight edge to your voice.

“I mean, c’mon, you obviously don’t need that much food. Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but you fill out that dress a bit too much already. It wouldn’t hurt to cut back on the carbs.”

Shock flooded your body, causing you to freeze. There was absolutely no way a complete stranger just said that to you, let alone to your face. The shock was quickly replaced with anger. You set the plates down, careful not to spill Luke’s food.

“Apparently, I’m doing just fine if you felt the need to stare at me for that long.” You crossed your arms, biting the side of your mouth in an attempt to control your irritation.

“It’s kind of hard to miss you. You’re one of the biggest girls in the room.” Your anger dissipated, shame rushing to take its place. You felt your cheeks and ears begin to burn with embarrassment.

Normally, comments like this didn’t bother you, but something about the look in this guy’s eyes made you feel a brand new form of humiliation.

“What the fuck did you just say to my girlfriend?” The sound of a voice you couldn’t be more happy to hear echoed from behind you. Luke came to stand beside you, slightly putting his body in front of yours.

Luke’s jaw ticked with rage. His eyes were dark, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry. Not even on the ice. The guy’s eyes widened, noticeably in fear and… excitement?

“Oh my, you’re Luke Hughes! I’ve been trying to find you all night! I wanted to see if you would be interested in coming on my podcast next week?” The stranger's audacity caught you by surprise.

Luke’s fists tightened, glaringly angry.

“Are you serious right now?” Luke’s voice was harsh, “You just openly insulted my girlfriend, then you have the audacity to ask me to come on your podcast?” The stranger’s eye drifted to you, then back to Luke.

“She’s your girlfriend? I heard you had one, but never would I have guessed she would look like that.”

Crack!

The sound of Luke’s fist colliding with the guy's face was all you could hear. The room went silent, all eyes on Luke’s visibly enraged body towering over the guy clutching his nose on the ground.

“I swear to God, if you ever come near me or my girlfriend again, you’ll fucking regret it.” Luke grabbed your hand, leading you past your table where he quickly snatched up your belongings. He whispered something to Jack and Nico, to which they responded with understanding nods. He continued to lead you through the large building until you reached the parking garage.

Luke had yet to say a single word, the tension in the air became suffocating.

He remained silent the rest of the way to the car, helping you into the passenger side. Once he was in the car, he let out a deep sigh, gripping the steering wheel.

“I’m so sorry, baby” His voice came out barely above a whisper. You looked over, noticing his eyes tightly shut.

You shook your head, “Sorry for what? Nothing that happened in there was your fault.” He turned his head towards you, opening his deep eyes to meet yours. Conflict fought battles within his orbs, causing you to reach over and cradle his face. “Lukey, listen to me. I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay. He was just some jackass that isn’t happy with his life so he felt the need to take it out on me.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I don’t get it. You’re the one who got insulted, yet you’re comforting me. It’s supposed to be the other way around.” You smiled, leaning to place a soft kiss on his nose.

“I’m just used to it, I guess. I have tough skin.” Luke frowned at this.

“You shouldn’t be used to it, y/n.” He reached to hold your hands in his, “You’re so fucking beautiful, I just don’t understand how anyone could say those things about you. You don’t deserve any of it.”

Overwhelmed by his statement, you couldn’t do anything but press your lips against his. He kissed back immediately, pulling you as close as the car would allow. The kiss was desperate and needy, expressing every emotion you both were feeling. Your hands gripped at the curls on his neck, causing a low groan to escape his throat.

You pulled away, leaving both of you with heaving chests as you attempted to catch your breath. “Thank you for defending me, Lukey.”

“I’ll always defend you, angel.” He looked deeply into your eyes, before leaning back to turn on the car, “But now it’s time to go get as much food as we can stuff down our throats.” You laughed at his antics.

This boy was gonna be the death of you.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x chubby!reader #luke hughes headcanons #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes blurb #nhl x reader #umich hockey x chubby!reader #umich hockey x reader #nj devils #njd x reader #njd x chubby!reader #jack hughes #nico hischier #leawrites🍀

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spdrvyn · 4 months

Text

out and about: MIGUEL O'HARA

a short drabble about miguel making time to go on a shopping spree with you in a newly opened mall, however you can't help but feel a little shopper's guilt while he's there.

it's been a busy last couple of months to say the least, miguel hadn't been on a proper date with you for a while. you said that you were doing just fine, but he always had a sixth sense about this.

besides, while he was tending to his job of being a multiversal protector, he's neglected his other (and arguably more important) job. being a supportive and present boyfriend.

he forced himself to clear his calendar, turned on DND mode on all of his devices for once, and got into something that wasn't a skin tight nanotech suit. you'd been overjoyed to discover that miguel had stayed home today, moreso when he told you to get ready because he'd be taking you to the mall to buy a couple of things.

a couple of things was an understatement.

whenever you kept your eyes too long on a certain shop, miguel would usher you in to look around a little. if you so much as touched an item, miguel would already be at the cashier and buying it for you. it went on like that for the entire trip.

bag upon bag hung onto miguel's arms, yet he didn't even seem to struggle. it was attractive, but made you all the more guilty because what if he wasn't actually enjoying this? sure, he brought some items along with you, but what if those purchases were to just spare your feelings?

not to mention that the mall was practically colossal in size. if you said that you wanted to go home, miguel would be thinking that he'd done something wrong. that would be even worse. to add on, you haven't even checked if this place had a book store and miguel knows well that you can't leave a mall without taking a peak which would make him even more suspicious.

you also had to stop at a cafe every now and again to let your throbbing legs rest from walking around the whole time, miguel probably had more weighing on his back. you despised the fact that you were stealing his precious time, you couldn't begin to imagine what could be happening back at his workplace without him. would those people manage to survive? would the multiverse survive?

after visiting the last shop of the day, you were relieved to finally have an excuse to tell him that you were tired and wanted to go back home. miguel understood that, but your silence the whole car ride back was deafening. he thought for sure that this would mean a lot to you, the mall felt tailored to your interests, you'd bought a lot.

why weren't you happy?

what did he do wrong?

you insisted on helping him bring the bags back in, which he indulged you to. after setting them all back into the flat, it was already dark. miguel assisted you in unboxing everything you bought, which you did with a sullen look on your face. especially when you were done, looking over all the unwrapped items, how your pile was so much bigger than his. it could bring you to tears. and it did.

as miguel wrapped an arm around you, he felt it. the slight shiver in your shoulders, the muffled hiccup, and the glossiness on your eyes. worry settled in his features, he pulled you closer to him. "hey, hey. what's wrong? you don't like the stuff i—"

you burst into a fit of sobs, face going red and eyes puffed. you desperately tried to wipe away the tears that streamed down, as you whimpered. "i love it, miguel! i love it so much, but- it's just–"

god, he hated seeing you like this. not because you looked ugly crying or because he found it annoying but because of his incompetence. he had one fucking job, way simpler than whatever he did at work. to make you happy, to make you content, this wasn't what he wanted.

"don't cry, please. i'm sorry, lo siento, por favor. baby, if there is anything else i can do for you, i'll do it."

"that's the thing! you've already done so much for me today, you're so– so nice, too nice, that- that i don't know how to give it back."

your crying had eased a little, miguel's face had softened. he's been trying compensate for how little he's been giving you, that's all, but he didn't think about how you are. maybe he's been too nice recently, but you're too nice all the time.

"you don't have to give anythig i do back, mi vida," he sighed as he moved his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing the fat of your cheek as your remaining tears smeared across the skin. "just you being here is enough, it's just that i've been— a little absent lately. i wanted to make it up to you."

"you didn't have to do that, miguel. just you being here is enough for me too." you sniffled. god, you were too adorable for him to take at times. he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the bridge of your nose, to each of your cheeks, then moving down to press one quickly to your lips.

"let's just do that then," he murmured, "be with each other. s'all i need, all i want." and you agreed. wholeheartedly so.

dividers by across-the-art-verse

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #x reader #fluff #romance

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deandoesthingstome · 8 months

Text

Haunted Fantasy

Pairing: Ghost!Mike x Reader

Summary: Just a little fun.

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), p in v (doggy style), monster fucking (right?).

A/N: This is about half as short as the others, but I still love it and I hope you do, too. This is my first time writing for Mike as main and I hope I did him justice for those of you who live for this guy.

A/N 2: For those of you who picked a different character for this visit, just know, you weren't entirely wrong. He's coming.

A/N 3: And finally, at one point I had imagined these chapters could all stand alone. Walter feels differently, so maybe check out the masterlist if you're new here.

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

August was a hit just like you knew he would be. Maybe your best writing yet. Something about the experience with him just brought it out of you and the story flowed from your fingertips to the keyboard as soon as you stepped into your apartment the next morning.

Yes, you had sprung for an actual overnight. And though he didn’t sleep with you, he was there when you fell asleep and woke again the next day. Apologizing, if you could believe it. He felt he hadn’t truly given you the strict dom experience you had asked for and wondered if he could talk you into a do-over. Maybe even throw in an add-on for free.

You were flattered, but assured him the night had been wonderful and you’d definitely felt satiated this morning. You did want to ask about the…sounds you’d heard the night before, but something told you it wouldn’t be received well so you just thanked him again, enjoyed a little morning coffee while you showered and changed, then headed home.

Where the story practically wrote itself and was up on the site by the evening.

MNstrluvr: what do you mean? sendmeanangel: it was like someone knew I was in there with August MNstrluvr: so you DO think it was him sendmeanangel: idk. Probably just wishful thinking darkgothnightengale: you have it so bad for him don’t you? sendmeanangel: it’s ridiculous. He must have seen dozens of women in a month or two. I don’t know why i would think he’d be thinking of me ever darkgothnightengale: because August said as much. And Sy too for that matter MNstrluvr: yeah, didn’t Sy tell you Walter rarely uses his gifts during visits? And August said he’d see you at the window. He has it bad for you, too, no doubt sendmeanangel: it doesn't matter anyway. I don’t even know his last name. And i haven’t been able to find any available bookings for him for weeks. darkgothnightengale: well, are you at least going back? sendmeanangel: if i do, i need something lighter. The room, the bite, August…it was all so intense. MNstrluvr: so the ghost? sendmeanangel: the ghost

When you closed the door to room 7-743, you found yourself in what looked like the living room of every house on every sitcom you'd ever seen. TV. Couch. Dad's recliner. Coffee table. End tables. A few bookshelves. A fireplace. Standard middle-class scenery. Nothing ornate or fancy. But also, no bed.

You wondered if the door across from the entry led to a bathroom, or another room, similar to the suite you'd found yourself in with August. Before you could step to the other side of the room to find out, a chill passed through the air around you and just as suddenly, as if to counter the effect, a roaring fire eased to life in the fireplace.

"That's better."

"Hello?" you called out in response to the voice, that was both a whisper and a warm tenor in your ear. "Is anyone there?"

Nothing. No answer. Despite the fire next to you, you felt goosebumps and crossed your arms to rub your hands over your skin.

Another deep breath before you continued across the room, determined to see what was behind the other door. Before you made it, an end table lamp switched on.

"Who's there?" You turned in place, looking for any form in the room that could have turned the light on. You were starting to wonder if this was not the haunting you’d signed up for. As you turned again, you felt a cool breeze drift across your chest, and while it felt nice, it also felt a little invasive. “This isn’t funny.”

“Easy, sweet cheeks. It’s just me.” A not-totally opaque figure appeared right in front of you, wide-eyed and with an apologetic smile. “I probably took that introduction too far. I’m Mike.”

You reached your hand for his and grasped nothing but air while he grinned like a fool at you.

“Cute,” you smiled back, even while wondering if you’d ever get to place your hands on something solid this evening.

“Why, thank you,” he took a small bow as you reached to smack his shoulder and found your hand drifting through air again.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” you laughed.

“Oh? You don’t find me pleasant to look at?” Mike grabbed at his chest and stumbled back as if deeply wounded, and for a moment you thought you really had hurt his feelings. “That’s alright. I have a feeling I can change your mind.” Mike stood tall and wiggled his eyebrows at you. Yeah, he definitely had the height you’d come to desire. You wondered about the rest.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply… I was just talking about the…” you waved your hand through the air to indicate his less-than-corporeal state and threw a worried look on your face to match your concern that you’d flubbed this meeting already.

Mike let out a full body laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m only joking. You’re free to like whatever looks you like. Wanna sit?” He swept a transparent arm toward the couch as an invitation. You sat on one side, while he drifted down to the other. “You did know you booked the ghost room, right?”

“I did. I don’t know what I was expecting. Not that, obviously. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, but I should ask. Do you want me to stay in this form?”

“You mean this form that I can’t actually feel?” you teased.

Again as if floating, Mike sidled over the length of the couch and right on next to you. You still couldn’t feel a physical connection, no matter how close to you he appeared to be, though the shiver that ran through your body was certainly not due to his cool temperature. He really was cute, no matter what little word games you’d started to play with him.

“It’s that much of a bummer, huh?”

“I mean…”

“Okay, look. I can do one, or the other, or both.”

“Both?” You were intrigued.

“Yeah, but honestly. This can be good and I’d love to show you. Doesn’t have to be now, though. We can start solid.” Mike raised an eyebrow at you and waited for your nod.

“I think for the storyline, it makes more sense, yeah?”

“Oh, fuck!” he exclaimed, suddenly off the couch as if embarrassed. “I totally spaced that! Yeah, yeah, of course. The scene.”

You laughed out loud. This guy was honestly a trip already and you weren’t even naked. In the next moment, you could suddenly no longer glimpse the room through his translucent form and you stood and took another moment to take it in fully.

Black Chucks, dark-washed blue jeans almost too tight around the thighs and definitely supporting a package that appeared to match his predecessors, plain white tee, and a black leather motorcycle jacket. The perfect delinquent boyfriend planning to sneak into the house once the kids you were watching were sound asleep, their parents still several hours away from returning for the evening. To be fair, you weren't sure how you expected a solid form host to deliver the ghost fantasy, but thankfully it sounded like Mike had a plan. And that had to be plenty of time for some fun.

“I’ll step out for a minute. Reset the scene, okay?” he tilted his adorable head full of somewhat unruly curls at you, gave a ridiculous wink and exited the room.

You settled back down on the couch, grabbed the random book sitting on the end table and started to thumb through the pages, as if just settling down after putting the kids to bed. The passage you flipped to caught your attention and you barely even noticed that you’d read through several pages before a loud bump sounded on the ceiling above you, followed by the sound of chains dragging before the window behind you started rattling.

“Jesus! What the fuck!” you exclaimed, already forgetting the story you’d put yourself in. You set your book down and stood, ear tilted up waiting for more noise before you stepped to the window, placing a palm against the glass to still the shaking. You checked the lock and found it holding, so imagined yourself safe again.

You sat back down, picked up the book, flipped a few more pages before you decided to turn on the TV, first glancing at your watch to check the time. He’s got to be close now, you thought. This was the time I told him to come. The kids are out like lights.

The TV sprang to life with a scary movie already in progress. You recognized it and wished Mike were here, already. If you knew the time marker, you were about to be scared out of your wits. The imagery always made you jump, no matter how many times you saw it. Almost on queue, a heavy knock sounded at the door, just as the jump scare presented on screen, and you could swear you heard the chains rattling again.

At your shriek, the door burst open and Mike had you in his arms.

“You okay, sweet cheeks? I heard a scream just as I got here. Sorry I was late.”

“Mike! There’s something in the house. Plus this godforsaken movie.” You clung to your temporary boyfriend, trembling in his arms.

“Whoa, whoa, something in the house?” he inquired with concern. “Want me to take a look?”

“NO! Stay here with me,” you implored him. “Please, Mike.”

“Okay, okay. Come on, let’s sit. But if we hear something else, I’m checking it out, okay?”

You agreed and took a spot on the couch, waiting for Mike to take off his jacket and sit down as well. You cuddled up next to him, curling your knees under you and leaning against his side. You draped a hand over his chest and could hardly stifle a small smile as you felt his firm body beside you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder and his hand and fingers caressed your upper arm.

The movie only got a few more moments of your eyes before Mike’s hand began to wander further and further from your upper arm to instead drape down the front of your collarbone and onto your breast. At your soft moan, Mike gave a small squeeze as if testing the waters further and your response gave him permission to begin to knead in earnest as he bent his head to capture your lips with his.

His kiss was hungry and erratic, a little messy partly due to the orientation of your bodies, which Mike took upon himself to remedy. As deftly as anyone had ever been, he simultaneously withdrew his arm from around your shoulder, turned and pushed you eagerly to your back while he scooped your legs straight to stretch you out beneath him.

He slotted a leg between your thighs and pressed into your tender core as he bent to kiss you again. It was then that you realized the hungry, messy style had nothing to do with body positioning. His tongue swiped over your lips and into your open waiting mouth and you gasped as a hand roamed all over your body, but paid special attention to your breasts.

“Mmm, Mike, that feels so nice,” you moaned.

“I’ll gladly give these amazing tits more attention,” he smirked, pulling the v-neck of your loose t-shirt to give his mouth room to move. You didn’t think about how you would never get the shape back and the shirt was basically ruined, but honestly it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling so you pushed him back a bit to give you space to cross your arms and grab the hem.

As soon as he saw the motion, he was grappling with your body and the fabric around it with the same frenzy he used to kiss you. It wasn’t exactly a help, but together you removed your shirt and bra, tossing them to the floor as you reclined back to receive him over you again. More kisses, with his lips burning yours and your hands running up his back and neck to grip into his luscious brown wavy hair and hold his face to yours. More grinding of your hips up into his where the growing bulge in his pants pushed into your belly.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned into your ear before nipping his way down your neck and back onto your chest. Wet, sloppy kisses trailed down the swell of your breast before he wrapped his kissable lips around your ever-hardening bud, licking and nipping and sucking several moans from you before giving the other nipple the same attention.

At the same time you felt fingers trailing down your tummy and into your jeans, where they slipped between the fabric of your underwear and the slick already seeping from you.

“Holy pussy, you are wet!” Mike exclaimed and you giggled, relishing the lightness of the evening. This was simply a little fun, with a bit of strapping young fluff and you were grateful for the time already.

“It’s all for you, baby. I get so wet for you. Can’t wait to feel you.”

Mike dove for your lips again, pressing his tongue into your mouth and his fingers into your burning core. He was driving you crazy and you never wanted it to stop. Mike withdrew his fingers only long enough to pop the button and pull the zipper down on your jeans, allowing more space for his hand to snake behind your panties and curl into your aching cunt.

With what felt like very practiced ease, he stroked and nudged your walls, pushing in and pulling out while he pressed a thumb against your tender pearl. With every new moan of pleasure, Mike slid his fingers a little deeper and crooked them a little more until he found a spot that clearly made you scream in a way that was so completely unlike the one he heard when he re-entered the room that he had to crack a wide grin, knowing he was making you come undone. He kissed the last of your gasps away, still stroking slow and lazily around your soaked folds.

You let him place one last deep kiss on your lips before you gathered your wits and pressed him back, moving up and over to straddle his lap. It was your turn now to kiss him deep while your fingers curled around an article of his clothing and you urged him to lift his arms so you could remove his shirt. With the break of the kiss he found time to ask a quick question.

“Are you sure they won’t be back soon?” he asked, still playing along with the fantasy that you had made up for the room.

“Mike, since when have you cared if you get caught fucking the babysitter?” you teased.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I think you do, so we have time, right?”

God he was so sweet. “Yeah, baby. We have all the time we need. Now sit back and let me make you feel good.”

You pressed up to standing so you could step your legs inside his and kneel in front of him. Once you’d pulled off his shoes and unbuttoned his jeans, he helped you drag them down with a press of his hips up off the couch. God, you wanted to feel that press into you.

You licked your lips to get ready as you pulled them all the way off, along with his underwear. You were positively salivating. From your spot on the floor, you took him into your mouth and began to bob, slowly at first, building up saliva to lubricate your movements before you started to really go for it.

When he put his hand on the back of your head, the moan you let go reverberated through your body. As you peered up at him through your eyelashes, you saw him toss his head back as he pushed one last time into your throat before he stilled both his hips and your head and held you there, telling you how he was "about to come in that pretty little mouth of yours, just gimme a minute cause I don’t want to finish just yet, and oh fuck!" the moment you wiggled your tongue in your mouth and sent him over the edge.

He had just pulled you back up into his lap, pressing your chest against his and kissing you again, completely unfazed by any lingering come he might encounter as he dipped his tongue into your mouth, when the noise returned.

You jumped right off his lap, grabbing for any shirt you could reach and holding it over your chest.

“Jesus, sweet cheeks. You weren’t joking,” Mike said, bending to grab his pants. “I’m checking it out. Stay here.”

You looked around the room, trying to identify the safest place to huddle up. Why you decided standing with your back against the door was it, you couldn’t really say. Mike stepped back to the door on the opposite side of the room. The one you’d never had a chance to open. You had no idea where he was going.

Or how long he’d be gone.

It had to be two hours later, when you woke up to find yourself curled up on the couch, Mike’s shirt all the way on, your feet freezing. Had you really fallen asleep waiting for Mike to come back? Had you bothered to call anyone? What had happened?

You heard a door open and shut and sat up quickly, expecting to see Mike returned from wherever but instead you saw nothing. No one was there.

You felt a chill near you for a brief moment before it started to warm against the skin on your back, and you felt the breath on your nape.

“I told you. I’m gonna take real good care of you,” the voice whispered in your ear while invisible fingertips slipped the shirt from your body, pausing for a moment to appreciate that you hadn’t put your bra back on. You arched into the squeeze and wished that when you lifted your arms behind your head, you’d have been able to grab onto the back of his head as he continued to nuzzle into your neck.

Instead you felt a gentle pull and push that had you backed up against the back of the couch, slouched low so that your jeans came off easily enough. Funnily, you hadn’t bothered to re-zip or button them before you fell asleep apparently.

You didn’t have time to think about that any longer because suddenly, the most amazing, ethereal touch was drifting up one thigh and then the other before settling back inside your pussy. And for a few moments, it felt so familiar and you trusted Mike to get you where you needed to go now, the same way he did then.

But he didn’t. What he did instead was put his ghostly mouth right on your flower, slipping the feeling of a tongue deep in your core as if he were a bee seeking the nectar. There was nothing for you to do but enjoy it. There was no head to clasp onto, no hands to reach for, no face to caress. There was only the exquisite feeling of having your pussy eaten, with licks and sucks in the exact right combination to keep you moaning and begging for mercy even though he knew you could take more.

You were right there, almost there, you could feel it and then it was suddenly gone and your eyes sprung open when you heard the voice in your ear.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I could do that all night, but fuck what I really want right now is to bend you over and fuck you. Can I do that? I’ll go back down if that’s what you want, but I would love to make you come all over my cock. Wrapped of course.”

You were dumb-struck, trying to swim back to shore. You’d been so close and you thought it was over, but every word that dripped out of his mouth made you clench around nothing and you wanted to be clenching around something.

“Fuck yes, Mike. Fuck. Please fuck me,’ you pleaded.

And you were well rewarded. A gentle, but urgent force shifting you to bend over, knees on the edge of the couch, hands braced against the back. Sounds of crinkly wrapper. Faint rubbery squeaks as he struggled to fit the condom over his erection. Pop of top and cool liquid rubbed into your heat. Tip pressed in, head popped through, length dragging along your insides. In and out and for all you knew there was an actual body behind you, fucking you into the back of this couch like there was no tomorrow. A body you were bucking back against as well.

When you twisted your head back, to try to get a glimpse, to try to see what this guy looked like fucking into you with wild abandon, angling to reach all the good spots, you saw nothing. It was like you were just going through the motions in some kind of fever dream, but it felt so fucking real.

And it sounded real, too. Because for as many moans and gasps and ohs and fuck yeahs that come out of your mouth, the same number of sensual and mind melting sounds came from him somehow too,

“Fuck, yeah, sweet cheeks. Fuck back onto my cock. Just like that.”

“God Mike, I’m gonna come again.”

“Yeah you are. You’re gonna come all over this cock. Just like that.”

And with that he managed to speed up just enough to send himself careening over the edge, widening and pulsing inside you, so that you, too, got to join him on the trip back to the bottom. From the highest of the highs. You felt like you were floating.

When you woke up again, you were back in Mike’s shirt, a blanket over your lap, and Mike’s arm around you as you rested your head in his lap. Him. Solid Mike. Jeans and socks. Nothing else.

“There you are, sweet cheeks. Have a good nap?’ he grinned down at you.

“I don’t think I had any other choice but to try to recoup some energy after you completely and totally fucked me into the void. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Mike replied in a tone you could tell was meant to dispel your concern. “Sweet cheeks, we have as long as you need.”

It took you a moment, but you finally realized what he was saying.

“Do you have the same gift Walt, uh, the werewolf, has?” you asked, hoping Mike didn’t hear your slip.

“Yeah, sweet cheeks, Marshall and me have the same gift.”

Well, no luck. Wait a minute…

“Who’s Marshall?” you asked.

“Walter. Walter Marshall. Our werewolf,” Mike answered. “Well, former werewolf.”

It was like a record scratch. You knew now why finding a slot with him had proven so hard lately. And you knew his last name.

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

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earthry · 9 months

Note

hello glad you are back :3 could I request hcs for going to a fancy ball w papa? ty ilysm 💓

Thank you so much! I had lots of fun with this, please enjoy! I imagine this to be somewhat of a Regency Era AU <3

sfw but a smidgen of spice at secondo's part, fluff, regency era-ish

Primo

Balls aren't usually his thing-- not anymore, at least. Maybe when he was younger but now in age, he's been and seen hundreds to the point that a fancy ball is just another fancy ball to him.

For you however, they are novelty and a wonder. Something sparkly, something new, something to be excited about and look forwards to. And fuck if that's not cute and incredibly endearing to see. Once you enter his life, he'll never ever voice boredom or disinterest for balls ever again.

Actually, you make him interested in balls again-- if not only to see you at the center of attention, beaming his way.

He's the type to sip at his wine while he watches you have the time of your life across the room-- he doesn't see any point in socializing himself, but if you urge him to, he'll mingle for a little while.

After the ball, he'll escort you home and ask if you had a good time-- the answer is always yes. He'll kiss you goodnight, sweet and gentle under the crescent moon that leaves the both of you breathless, before bidding you a farewell until the morning.

"I'll see you in the morning, tesoro. I'll dream sweetly of you tonight."

Secondo

Spares no expenses on you-- whether it be accessories, makeup, outfits, you name it-- he'll get it for you. What's the use of money if he can't frivolously spend it on the people he loves?

Whether it be a ball gown or a suit, everything you wear is perfectly tailored to your form. If you get a dress or skirt, it has pockets!

An expert at the social game at balls, always knows what to say and exactly how to say it. His presence is most coveted and he'll almost always have an invitation to even the most exclusive of balls.

You'll always be his plus one-- there's never a doubt. Unless you have no interest in attending, you can practically consider an invitation to him as an invitation to you. However, you needn't worry because plenty of invitations of your own will come your way because others know that if you attend, he surely will as well. Never one without the other.

Protective; if he has business or other things to attend to at a ball, one or more of his ghouls will always be nearby to make sure nothing happens to you. This is with your consent of course. If you don't feel comfortable with it, he'll at the very least make sure you're equipped and armed with your own personal dagger concealed in your sleeve or somewhere on your person.

As is proper, he'll always make sure to personally escort you home. The kiss you share before you depart is deep and meaningful-- but no less dirty or charged. Pulling you into his lap and claiming your lips with his, he'll roll his hips up to meet yours just to hear the little hitch in your breath. It's usually a game between the two of you; who can get the other more worked up by the time it's time to say goodbye. Most of the time he wins, smirking as you let out a soft little whimper when the carriage finally stops in front of your estate. He'll give you one last kiss before huskily bidding you adeiu.

"Time to leave, amore mio. Think of me tonight, si?"

Terzo

This man definitely 'pre-games' before the ball-- manicures and facials and any type of beauty self-care under the sun. It's a whole spa day the day of the ball, he shows up at your doorstep and kisses the back of your hand before whisking you off to get absolutely pampered.

The two of you have matching outfits probably, the same theme or color or style. You're both the center of attention at balls, charming the ladies and men. Terzo usually keeps a possessive arm around your waist, leaning in close to gossip or whisper some kind of comment that only you have the luxury of being privy to.

Terzo is ever so attentive to you and your needs during balls-- always checking in for your comfort, asking if you need a drink or snack, making sure you know that the two of you can leave at any time you want.

Despite what a flirt this man is, he'll only ever have eyes for you and anyone with eyes can see that. He's a little bit of a prima donna and likes having your attention on him-- but he'll give you your space if you request it.

Whenever there's dancing involved, the two of you always captivate onlookers. The way he twirls you (or vice versa if you prefer leading), the looks the two of you exchange as your bodies move in tandem to the music. When the two of you take to the dance floor, usually it becomes just the two of you, as others will stop just to watch.

Dropping you back home after the party is Terzo's least favorite part-- because he has to say goodbye to his most beloved. You'll spend at least twenty more minutes down the block from your estate just to make out in the carriage until one of the coachmen impatiently interrupts and asks if you're ready to go. With one last parting kiss, Terzo will see you off with a promise to call on you again in the morning.

"Till tomorrow, beloved. Don't miss me too much, bene?"

Copia

The two of you are anxious beans that find comfort and company in each other at social functions and especially balls. You'll always have an eye out for him and him, you. Eventually, you'll just start attending balls and other events together.

The first time you meet, he's hiding in host's library-- the very same place you had decided to hide in as well. You bump into each other what starts as profuse apologies from each side blooms into a long lasting friendship and companionship.

The day he asks you to come with him as his official plus one, his date, you can't stop smiling which flusters him and makes him bashfully but oh so insanely happy.

After a while, balls become a favorite to the two of you because it would always be full of shenanigans and fun. The two of you together and loitering by the refreshments table and stuffing yourselves full of snacks, giggling to yourselves as you chat and peek into his pocket to see that he's smuggled a rat friend in, touring the gardens outside where it's less crowded and hold hands until you inevitably share a kiss under the gazebo by the lake.

When the night comes to a close, he'll see you home with you cuddled at his side on the carriage ride back. Hushed and sweet tones as you decompress together and he'll tell you that he enjoyed every moment he had with you. He'll crack a few jokes that leave the two of you giggling and by the time it's time to leave, you're left with a warm and fuzzy feeling from head to toe. His kiss goodnight promises more in the future; it's soft and resolute. He holds you in his arms afterwards and you sigh contently and bask in the moment before he rests his forehead against yours to say goodbye.

"First thing tomorrow, i'll be outside your window throwing little stones, si? Like uh-- who was that fellow? Row-me-o? Wha- cuore mio, why are you laughing?"

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i-yap · 3 days

Note

omg you are also south indian!!!! i find it really hard to find south indians on here, could you do the batboys reacting to reader wearing traditionally indian clothing for a wedding they are attending???

Im north Indian with a little spanish in me shifting to NY actually but yea the indian dc fanfic community is smaller. I love the idea of a traditional indian s/o with Jason particularly. Dick with someone spanish , tim with an African American, Damian with caucasion and bruce with someone asian. Idk why Thats just How I imagine it. Its in no way a canon to their character or a generalization of people from a culture but the cultures ,and norms and values of these cultures really suit the batboys. Hope this isn't offensive. So Im just going to do batboys x reader in a family event .

Batboys(tim, dick, jason , bruce)x y/n - At a family event

Dick Grayson

is also dressed in your cultural's traditional clothes. Dick has traveled all over the world and he likes seeing you in your traditional clothes. Being comfortable in your traditional wear, being in "your element" . He charms up all your family members, no-one even calls him the white boyfriend anymore . The women also hit on him( of all age groups srsly) He is part of the family by the end( or within 5 mins) of the night . Dont be surprised when you find him and your family laughing about what jokes your parents are going to make at your wedding. He isn't even nervous before going. He is a real charmer and you couldn't be prouder.

Jason todd

doesnt want to go. Really thinks your family wont like him and they probably wont the first time they meet him. Will still wear his leather jacket but at least he wore a white shirt and clean jeans? He even agreed to take the car rather then the bike. Will stop complaining the moment he sees you in your element. Like goddess pro max what even , so ethereal ,the world is shaking . Staring dialed up to 100/10 . plus his complaining was never serious to start with. He wants you to have a family, be connected to your background,. Its just one of the things that make you you and he wont change a single hair on you. Will probably get insecure ( I get set up or marriage proposal talks when I go to family functions - just indian girl things I hate it tbh. And I've noticed its a thing in a lot of cultures) because he'll think that you deserve that traditional life with people who 'get you" but no one will ever get you the way he does and you just need to remind him of that. He is a bit broody , tall and just kind of sticks by you . The men and boys of the group are probably fascinated by him so as the night goes he starts getting more comfortable around them. The kids lowkey like him a lot so its cute and you may get baby fever. And the older women of the group are poking at him( why the jacket? whats with that scar) and you'll have to rescue him. He'll do it all over for you though.

Tim drake-

time to put on that practiced facade. He is used to putting on a fake winning smile at those galas so imagine his surprise when his old tricks don't work at your family function. Personal space? privacy?? fake formalities?? don't exist. Bonus points if it isn't a fake rich family. But he gets to see you In a pretty clothes and he is simping, teasing you on how you look like a real girl now(but he lowkey prefers you in the geeky shirts you guys share) . he did research so like ask him the They are still very impressed by your respectful young man ( who is super rich and smart). He gets by tbh, a bit shy because he is just so not used to all this. But keep him near you, show him how to dance properly and get a few drinks in him and its a party. He loves it, your family loves him and your cousins are now his besties (don't ask when that happened). He loves having a family and it just leaves him with wonder. He is in awe of this and so grateful that you let him into your life.

Bruce wayne

does a lot of research . He knows exactly how to act, what to say and what to do. A bit cold and aloof . Still surprised by the whole chaos . But unlike tim he keeps his cool. your family is impressed by you "bagging" the rich billionaire boyfriend. If this is batman with robins ver then they are worried about the huge amount of kids he adopted and what that means for you. So uh..just mention the billion again? They ask really personal questions but bruce prepared and is so ready for it. He loves seeing you in your traditional clothes, probably encourages you to wear them casually too. As if anyone can stop you, go to galas in traditional clothes or just wear home traditional in the mansion. Over all he loves getting a peak into your life and what experiences shaped you to be the woman he loves so dearly now.

If there's anything offensive about this let me know and I will change the content or even delete the whole thing. Ive based it a little of the four different cultured families I have and the common stuff I've noticed in all of them. But I've tried keeping it as general as possible tbh. So I'm sorry if this is offending anyone.

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hollybell51 · 11 months

Text

It's ok - two

Navigation

Part one

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 7.5K

Summary: you and Adam deal with the aftermath of the pollen debacle

Content: referenced sex pollen and associated dubcon, SMUT, agan maybe a bit of perviness, Adam being down bad, reader being down bad, blowjobs, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's not technically a virgin any more but still kinda is, reader definitely isn't, bit of angst, with a happy ending, getting together, fluff, light dirty talk, praise kink, light body worship, subby Adam, again potential ooc

Notes: this is part 2 so you gotta read part 1 for it to make sense. I hope I fixed the numerous moral issues with part 1's ending lmao also before you come at me for the shower stuff; I'm so white I'm practically reflective, so I do apologise to all my textured-hair girlies for my crimes against you with that... I hope praise kink Adam who loves tits makes up for it. enjoy.

Oh yeah, this is also on my AO3

You woke slowly, swimming up against the gravity of sleep as though it were mud. Your whole body was tingling with a pleasant warmth and heaviness, underpinned by something that wasn’t quite unease, or discomfort, but close enough. A shiver ran down your spine, and you pulled the blanket closer around your neck. Hold on. Blanket?

You shot upright, cursing as the cool air of the ship’s interior hit your bare skin. Of course. You vaguely remembered the sudden flush of heat that had overcome you, your suit constricting like it was being shrink wrapped to your skin, the incessant throbbing low in your stomach and then between your legs. Everything after that was foggy, as though you were watching a film with a hazy filter, shot through a curtain of water. But you could definitely see Adam’s concerned face close to your own, feel the echo of his hand on your back and on your forehead. And, well, everywhere else.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he’d asked, as if you hadn’t been dreaming about that for months. Hell, you’d been imagining that exact eventuality as you’d frantically gotten yourself off on the floor of the shower.

Now, you wondered if he was ever going to look at you the same way. It had been quick, hard and rough and you felt bad now for how little thought you’d spared him. You weren’t even really thinking at all, your mind offered. He seemed ok. He came, didn’t he? You felt your cheeks heat at the memory, fuzzy as it was, of his face buried in the crook of your neck, hips jutting up against yours, strong arms wrapped around your waist and your name on his lips. It was better than anything your imagination had ever cooked up, and you were probably racking up some truly awful karma by stowing it away.

You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and running a hand through your (mostly) dry hair, fingers catching in the mess of tangles. You were never going to skim information on anything ever again. Actually, screw that, you were never going to go outside again. At least without a full suit and helmet, oxygen tank and air filter included.

The blanket trailed behind you like a grotesque bridal train as you headed for the bridge, bare feet slapping faintly on the cool floors. It had felt nice earlier, but now you wished you’d kept track of your clothes. You’d left your underwear in the shower, hadn’t you? What had happened to your suit?

The ship was eerily quiet, the bridge deserted but for a pile you didn’t remember leaving on what had been your seat – still swivelled around to face Adam’s for the sole purpose of being able to watch him read the briefing and notes as you packed.

The pile, as it turned out, was a fresh suit and your underwear, bearing no traces of the frankly ridiculous amount of wetness that had made the walk back so uncomfortable, or shower water. Had he washed them for you? Then dried them, too? Your heart gave a pathetic little jump and twist at the thought. Adam didn’t deserve something like this. Maybe if it had been anyone else you’d have been able to live it down, laugh it off and thank them for the good times, but him? No way in hell.

You’d felt something towards the newest citizen of Knowhere almost as soon as you’d started really talking to him. He was funny once you’d gotten him to lighten up, and had practically jumped at the opportunity to help repair the damage to the planetoid, even if he’d been the one who caused a lot of it. There was so much genuine curiosity and wonder in him, the painfully obvious desire to do well – which you supposed came from the High Evolutionary and the whole Perfect Man thing – and the fact that he seemed to hang on your every word like it was the gospel… Well, you hadn’t stood a chance. It had only gone downhill from there, and before long you’d been wondering what it would be like to see what constituted the perfect man up close and personal. What would the hands that destroyed so much of your home, and then rebuilt it beside you, feel like on your bare skin? Would your arms fit around those broad shoulders as perfectly as you imagined? Would his lips be as soft as they looked?

You supposed you knew some of that now. You fit against him perfectly, like you were made for each other. His hands were painfully gentle, and much softer than you’d thought they’d be. You regretted that you hadn’t kissed him more, and done a better job of it. You cringed at the memory of your teeth clashing against his, not an ounce of coordination or forethought.

He’d been better at it when he’d kissed over your chest, sucked gently at the skin of your breasts. You could see a few faint marks as you did up your suit, far too ill-defined to be called hickeys. Guiltily, you wished you’d gotten him to leave more.

You were jerked out of that line of thought by something rustling onto the floor. A note, scrawled hastily.

“Dear (Y/N),” crossed out, then “To (Y/N),” crossed out again, finally just “(Y/N).”

You smiled stupidly. Who knew indecisiveness could be so endearing?

“I hope you’re ok.”

“Yep,” you whispered in return. “All fine here.”

“Sorry I left. I hope you’re not cold. I didn’t want to wake you up so I didn’t dry your hair.”

God, this man.

“I washed your clothes for you, but I incinerated the other suit. Sorry. It had pollen on it. Don’t worry, I made sure it’s all gone.”

You sighed. “Thank you, Adam.”

“I’ve gone out, but I’ll be back in no more than three hours.” There was time here, too, underlined and in parenthesis. He had about half an hour left. Shit, had you been out that long? Seriously?

The next line started with “I h” but the rest was so heavily crossed out you couldn’t even begin to guess what it said. It was followed by “I hope you’re ok” again, then another bout of heavy censorship before his name. You wondered how he’d originally signed it, but quickly squashed that. Nope.

“Alright,” you said to the note. You felt a bit stupid checking your surroundings as you folded it and placed it in your pocket, but hey, it might come in handy. For reports or future references or… something.

How was he being so goddamn nice? A heavy stone of guilt settled in your stomach, along with the distinct sense that he was doing this because he didn’t know better. He was so eager to please, to do good, that he’d probably just assumed fucking you – letting you fuck him was probably a more apt description, actually – was the natural solution to the pollen problem. And yeah, you’d heard the part about dying if you didn’t (which you thought was ridiculous, frankly, and probably said something about humans and their suitability for anywhere outside Earth) but it still didn’t sit right with you. Not even a little.

Something beeped on the console, the light for the door flashing cheerfully. “He’s back!” it seemed to be saying. “He’s back, he’s back, he’s back!”

“Yeah, alright,” you muttered, flicking it off. “Think of the devil.”

“What devil?”

You jumped. Actually genuinely jumped before you turned towards the voice. “Figure of speech.”

“Oh,” said Adam, boots thudding dully on the floor as he crossed the space. “Did you sleep ok?”

“Yeah. Thanks for… this.” You didn’t know what to do with your hands. Fuck, why were your hands so sweaty? And since when had he looked good good in that damn suit? It was ugly on everyone, no matter how pretty they happened to be without it.

Oblivious to the mini meltdown in your head, as he should be, Adam pulled off his gloves and set them down on his seat with a soft thwump noise. “That’s ok. Sorry I didn’t stay, I didn’t want to disturb you, and then I figured you’d be out for a while, then I thought maybe I should just get it over with since I can…” A pause, a breath, then, “Go out there.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “it’s fine. I’d have done the same.” Should you mention the note? No, you decided. It was staying tucked away in your pocket forever.

He shrugged, then held up his arms. “I didn’t get any on me, by the way.”

Right, yeah, the pollen. The pollen that had turned you into a goddamn nymphomaniac. You supposed it was going to come up, and better to just bite the bullet, right?

“Adam,” you started, stepping around your chair to face him.

His eyes followed every movement, as if he was memorising the way a person walked. Up close, you could make out a faint bronze tinge to his golden face, most likely from the heat outside. You could have studied it for hours.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. It came out quieter than you’d have liked, huskier and less sure of yourself. You forged on. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything, and I just… I…” Deep breath, look him in the eyes. “Thank you. For helping me. I know it’s how the whole ‘saving people’ gig usually goes but… you did. So, uh, thanks.”

Maybe it was trite. Maybe it was a poor choice of words, but Adam didn’t seem to think so. Very carefully, as though he were afraid of somehow hurting you, he reached out and took your hand. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch as it had been before (after all, why should it have changed?), and just like it had in the shower, his thumb moved in little circles over the back of your hand.

“It’s alright,” he said, sincere as anyone and only just tinged with something that might have been regret’s cousin. “You didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Yeah, I… yeah.” You couldn’t help the little huff of laughter that escaped you. You didn’t have much of a choice? Carefully, you lifted your gaze from the hypnotic movement of his thumb. It was odd how such a tiny gesture, such a light touch, could suffuse your entire being with such warmth. It wasn’t like the heat from earlier, it was gentle and soft and the fact that you clung so desperately to it probably said more about you than him, but still… “I’m glad it was you, Adam.”

You could have sworn he stood straighter, and that the lines of his shoulders became less harsh. Maybe it was just the smile he was giving you, genuine and sweet, and wow you’d never felt so undeserving of a damn facial expression.

He nodded. “I didn’t realise it could feel like that.” Then, at your frown, “Sex, I mean. I didn’t understand why people liked it so much, but now I think I do.”

Oh. Oh. Right. That bit. Of course you were going to have to talk about that bit too. Looking back, you were pretty sure that you’d have thought absolutely anything was top-notch in the state you were in, and from what you remembered, the actual mechanics of it had been very one-sided. You had, if you were honest, simply fucked yourself on top of him.

But you were not going to say that. Instead, you snorted and let your hand fall from his. “You’ve been having sex with the wrong people, then.” Not that I’m the right one, or anything. But maybe I could have been.

Adam eyed your hand, then shrugged and turned towards the panel. “I hadn’t had sex with anyone before you,” he said as he unclipped his radio and dropped it onto one of the few free spaces.

Woah. Woah, hold on, rewind. He what? That was the first time for him? That? The guilt-stone had become a bloody guilt-boulder, and were you being dramatic or had the ship just wobbled?

“What?”

He turned back towards you, frowning. “I hadn’t done it before. Are you ok?”

“Oh God.”

“What? Is something wrong?” He was back in front of you, hands ghosting over your shoulders and arms as your mind raced. You hadn’t even considered that. Well yeah, you had, in various imagined scenarios and fantasies none of which involved the prospect of your death if you did not have sex with him.

“Yeah, I–” You took a breath, forcing yourself to look at him. How the hell were you going to explain this? Should you? Would it just make it worse? But no, you owed him this at least. “Adam,” you said as gently as you could, “your first time should be with someone you want, because you want to do it with them. It shouldn’t be to save someone’s life, let alone someone who… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry.”

He had a firm grip on your shoulders now, and that damned thumb was giving you the comfort treatment there, too. You wondered if he realised he was doing it. “Don’t be,” he said. “I still liked it. And I did want to do it with you. I know it was only me because there’s no one else here, but I still… I still wanted you.” He paused, then, “I just wish it had been you you.”

Yeah, so did you. But that wasn’t what stuck with you. He’d wanted you. He’d liked it, shit as it had probably been from his end. “You…” You stopped, swallowed. “You wanted me, too?”

He just nodded, searching your face. The tinge of bronze had deepened to copper.

“Oh.”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I think about you a lot. I wondered– wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Touch you, feel you like… like that.”

Again, all you could manage was a soft “oh,” acutely aware of his closeness, how he filled your vision, the temperature of the ship (which seemed to have risen), and his hands through your clothes. “And?”

His breath hitched in his chest, and his voice was low when he answered. “I’d have liked to kiss you, stay with you afterwards. Tell you… Tell you that you’re important to me, and I don’t ever want to see you in pain again.”

You drew your own breath. How could this be happening? This didn’t exist outside your mind. It really shouldn’t even exist in your mind. But you heard yourself speak all the same. “You could. Kiss me, I mean. If you still want to.”

His thumb stilled. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, moving a fraction of a step closer. “I’d like you to.”

You did not like cliches. You did not like to be trite or banal, but you could have sworn you were living in slow motion as Adam leaned down the few inches between you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it was almost chaste.

You tilted your face towards his before he could pull away, parting your lips ever so slightly, leaning into the warmth at your shoulders. He seemed to get the idea, his hands sliding effortlessly up your neck to cradle your face, fingers caressing your jaw and cheeks, your own hands settling on his wrists. Your heart thudded wildly, and you felt for all the world like a schoolgirl playing truth or dare at a sleepover, a teenager spinning the bottle with the boy you liked sitting across from you, a Guardian of the goddamn Galaxy being touched so gently by the guy you’d ridden six ways into next week not three hours ago.

You pulled back first, but barely. “I didn’t do a very good job of this before, did I?”

“It wasn’t too bad. Not what I expected.” You could feel the words on your skin, your face so close to his that his features were slightly blurred. His breath was warm against your lips.

“Mm,” you sighed, “that’s not usually how it goes.”

“Oh. Ok then.” He dipped back down momentarily, pulling away just as fast. “I like this a lot better.”

“Me too,” you smiled, stretching up to kiss him again. This was firmer, more direct. This time his lips were parted too, and he gave a pleased little hum when you moved against him. You let go of his wrists, mourning the loss of his hands on your face for a moment before you mimicked the position, pulling him closer to you. He was good at this, and you vaguely wondered if it was just the sex part that was new to him. His hands had settled at your waist, holding you steady and he hummed into your mouth, a sound that you could have listened to forever.

“I wanted this for so long, Adam,” you murmured between kisses. “I thought about you too, you know.”

“(Y/N)...” Adam paused, raising a hand to press against your forehead.

You just smiled, pressing into his touch. “It’s all me, don’t worry.”

He nodded, following your lead as your tongue slipped along his lip, a tiny moan caught between his mouth and yours when you slid it alongside his. He tasted like the falsely sweet nutritious bars you never seemed to run out of, warm and smooth and so soft. How could a person’s mouth be that soft? Now you really felt bad for the borderline assault you’d launched on it earlier.

You’d ended up with your hands on his shoulders, half bracing yourself and half mapping out the contours of his upper arms, neck, collar and chest. Your fingers slid easily through his hair where it brushed his neck, dipping occasionally under the high collar. You needed to get someone onto redesigning those.

He was holding you so close you wondered if he was trying to somehow pull you into him, his grip firm and decisive on your hips. Carefully, experimentally, you pushed your pelvis against his, a bolt of heat shooting through you at the hardness already growing there. He cursed, muffled by the fact that his tongue was in your mouth, welcome as anything he was giving you.

“Is this–?” you started, but he cut you off.

“Yes,” he breathed, drawing back enough to look at you. He was really flushed now, lips swollen and so, so pretty, eyes bright with want. “Yes, (Y/N).”

“Are you sure? No lives on the line here.”

He smiled, stroking your hip gently. “I’m sure.”

“Ok.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before taking his hand and leading him towards the bed you’d woken in, your steps sure and determined. He sat, as he had before, watching you expectantly. You considered simply shedding your clothes and letting him take the lead. Maybe you could sit on his lap and jerk him off, show him how to touch you. Maybe.

“Can I?” you asked as you stood between his legs, fingers toying with the fastenings of his clothes.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Would you like me to?”

Again, “yes.”

You smiled, running your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta help me out.”

“Mhm.” He nodded, kissing your palm before reaching up to peel off the suit, rolling the material smoothly down his arms, his chest, letting it bunch at his hips.

This was not the first time you’d seen him without a shirt. There’d been the aftermath of the face-off with the High Evolutionary, for one, and you definitely remembered stripping him before. A few moments where he or you had entered the other’s space as he’d been pulling a shirt on or a suit up, nothing more than a glimpse of midasian shoulders, the ripple of a smooth back, the hint of a belt of muscle. You’d carefully stowed every inch of gleaming gold in the deepest recesses of your mind.

Now you could touch, too. You bent to kiss him as your fingers curled around the ball of his shoulder, revelling in the little sigh he gave when you dragged your hand down to his sternum. His heart thudded under your palm, and you swore you could feel the warm rush of his blood beneath his skin as you slid your touch sideways, your hand now splayed over his ribs.

He whispered your name as you moved your kisses to his jaw, still soft, gradually trailing down his neck. Goosebumps prickled under your hand when your tongue brushed his skin, the sharp rush of his breath stirring your hair when you sucked ever so lightly at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Lower, over his heart, tiny bronze marks standing out against the smooth gold. You felt the skin of his stomach twitch as your fingers met the waistband of his underwear, and you paused.

“Is this alright?” you asked, craning your neck to look at him.

“Yes.” His eyes were closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything so beautiful.

“This?” You slipped your hand under the material, tracing the deep v of his pelvis.

“(Y/N), please–”

Oh wow. The too-tight, too-hot feeling was back, only this time its cause wasn’t sprinkled all over you. He was looking at you like you were an oxygen tank and he was drowning, and how could you ever have said no to that?

“I can’t do it all by myself,” you smiled, pulling at the bunched and folded material circling his waist, “you gonna help out?”

He assured you he was, lifting his hips and kicking his pants down to his ankles. It was then that you both realised he still had his boots on. He cursed softly, apologised, bent to unlace them before your hands on his stopped him. You knew what you were doing now, and exactly where you were going.

“Let me?” you said as you knelt between his legs, your fingers already at work.

“Oh,” he whispered as he watched you. “(Y/N), you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you replied simply. “I wanna take care of you, Adam. Can I?”

“Yes.” It was a sigh, and his eyes when you met them were so full of what could only be described as awe that you wondered if he’d actually heard you. You ran your hands up his muscular thighs, wriggling closer to the edge of the bed, forcing his legs further apart. You bent, laying a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach, marvelling at the smoothness and warmth of his skin, the faint tang of sweat and something else that was distinctly Adam.

“You took care of me,” you whispered as you pulled off his underwear. “I wanna return the favour.”

He was hard, you’d felt – and seen – that much already. What you hadn’t seen, and had failed to even consider in any detail, was that his dick would be – that any dick could be – so damn pretty. It was metallic as the rest of him, ample as you’d felt earlier, flushed copper and fuck you wanted to put it in your mouth right now.

“Is…” He paused, breathing hard. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Yeah, Adam, you’re perfect. You’re just… You’re perfect.”

He sighed again, this time with something close to relief. “Oh. Ok. That’s… That’s good. Thank you.”

“Can I touch you?” You’d already touched him practically everywhere else, and had done a little earlier, so you didn’t expect that moan that slipped from him.

“Yes, please,” he breathed. “Please, (Y/N), go ahead.”

Go ahead, whispered into your neck before you’d sunk down on that dick. So of course, you spat into your hand and wrapped your fingers around him, moving your hand gently to coat the whole thing in moisture. Adam’s thigh tensed under your free hand, his breath catching in his chest. You watched his face carefully as you found a rhythm, mapping every vein and curve, the swell of the head, the wet slit which you slid your thumb over – making his hips jerk ever so slightly into your grip.

“So beautiful,” you whispered as his hand came to rest on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect, Adam. How’d I get so lucky? What’d I ever do to deserve you?”

Your name was little more than a sharp intake of breath, and you smiled as you continued your movements. His hand slid up to your hair, around the back of your neck, fingers dipping under the collar of your suit. “Your clothes,” he said softly.

“Off?” You paused, relishing in the feel of his hand on you. It had been magnified thousand-fold earlier, every brush of his skin lighting you on fire. This was less severe, though not by much.

“Mhm.”

“Ok.” You turned your head, kissing his hand before it slipped from you as you stood. You were less graceful than Adam was in undressing, and you knew you were no stripper, but his eyes still followed every movement raptly, as though he were memorising every inch of skin you revealed. You kicked your suit aside, stepping back into place between his legs as you cast off your bra.

Adam’s hands were quick to settle on your hips, dipping under the waistband of your underwear. “Do you want help with this, too?”

“Yes,” you smiled as you brought your hands to his hair. You’d vaguely noticed that it was softer than you’d expected, and didn’t catch easily between your fingers, but that he’d seemed to like it when you’d pulled it a little. You could explore that more later, you supposed, too focussed on the way he slid the garment down over your thighs to pool at your feet. He hummed quietly as you continued to card through his hair, fingers stroking his scalp gently.

You followed his movement as he ducked lower, sucking a harsh breath through your teeth when you felt him kiss your hip bone, his tongue warm and silken. He did again, his moan soft moan when your fingers involuntarily tightened in his hair stifled by your pelvis. He was copying you, you realised, giving you a belt of kisses just like you’d done to him. Except he was moving lower now, becoming sloppier, gently sucking every now and then.

“What’re you doing?” you asked softly, frowning down at him.

“I want to taste you,” he murmured, not raising his head. “Want to make you feel good.”

Oh God. This man, you thought for the second time and certainly not the last. You laughed, the growing heat in your gut throbbing indignantly as you pulled him gently away. He pressed his cheek into your hand again as you let it fall from his hair, his brow pinched in confusion.

“Next time,” you told him, “ok?” Then, “And you already made me feel good. You fucked me so good it saved my life. Now it’s my turn, hm?”

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then the confusion cleared and he nodded, turning his head to kiss your wrist. He didn’t break eye contact as you knelt once more, rubbing your hands over his thighs again, up to his hips where you caressed the little belt of copper marks. You matched now. How cute.

You leaned forwards, kissing the spot where his leg met his body. If you turned your head just an inch, your mouth would be on his cock. It was hot to the touch, still wet with your makeshitft lube, still flushed deep bronze, now beaded with precum at the tip.

You looked up, meeting his eyes. “You tell me if you wanna stop, ok?”

“Ok.”

That was all you needed. You licked up the shaft, ignoring the twitch of his hips and the sharp gasp it conjured. He moaned – really moaned – when your lips closed over the head, then again, louder, as you relaxed your mouth and sank down on him. What didn’t fit in your mouth was taken care of by the hand that wasn’t holding his hips down, not that you’d be able to do much if he decided to face fuck you.

“(Y/N),” he panted, “oh my– (Y/N).”

“Good?” you mumbled, though it sounded nothing like the word. He seemed to get the idea.

“Yes, yes it’s– you’re– Oh!”

You’d sucked, hard, hollowing your cheeks and sliding your head down as far as you could. You drew back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock before you did again. And again, and again.

He groaned your name as you sped up, hand moving in tandem with your mouth, hot and heavy against your tongue. His hand had found its way to your hair, not pushing or pulling, just resting on the back of your head as you practically swallowed his dick.

You’d never had a problem giving head. Liked it, sure, if the guy was nice, but you hadn’t loved it, and had never understood people who did. Now, as Adam cursed and whispered your name, all of it liberally punctuated by stilted moans and the occasional whine or grunt, you thought you got it. The idea that it was you doing that to him, you and you alone teasing forth those heady noises and making his body twitch and jerk like that… You could happily get on your knees for him every day of the rest of your life if this was what it was like every time.

You breathed deeply through your nose, the warm, sweet and very Adam smell of him managing somehow to overpower the ever growing mess of spit and a little sweat your hand was sliding through. Maybe with anyone else it would have been gross, but here it only forced your own soft moan before trickling to join the wetness growing between your legs. Earlier, as your mind had cleared, right as Adam had been lifting you off his lap, you’d decided that you never wanted to be aroused ever again. You were very happy that wish hadn’t come true as you squeezed your thighs together, eager for any friction you could get.

You could taste the saltiness of his precum at the back of your throat, feel the throb of his cock on your tongue as you relaxed even further, taking him deeper than you’d tried before. You prayed you weren’t about to make yourself throw up on him.

“(Y/N),” he choked, thumb rubbing tiny circles where it rested in your hair. That was going to be a bitch to untangle.

“Hm?”

“You’re so–” He broke off as you sucked hard, the muscles of his thighs and stomach tensing. “Ah, you’re so beautiful. So soft, you’re so… Oh, (Y/N)--”

You’d sped up at the praise, fuelled by the tiny, restrained thrusts into your mouth and the tightening of his hand in your hair. He was close, you could feel it, and you wanted nothing more than to make him cum in your mouth.

“So much,” he groaned. “It’s so… so much, I–”

You squeezed gently at his thigh, a silent reassurance. He’d cum before – in you, no less – but maybe you should have started with something that you could talk to him through. You could have used your hand and told him that it was ok, that he was doing well, while you kissed him and he made all those beautiful noises against your lips. Hell, you could have gone straight to the ninth yard and let him fill you up again, given him control.

Too late now, you supposed. His cock twitched, hips stuttering, whole body tensing. You squeezed his thigh again, I’ve got you, it’s alright, as he groaned deeply. His chest heaved, head tipped back as he came down your throat, hot and thick and salty. You didn’t stop your movements, hand and mouth working him through his high until there was no more. You pulled back and, after a moment’s hesitation, gently licked away the mess of your own spit coating him.

You sat back on your heels, hand still resting on his shaking leg, and took him in. He shone with more than his usual iridescence, a sheen of sweat clinging to his torso, some pieces of hair sticking to his forehead, face and neck flushed so prettily, breath still coming hard and fast. You’d done that. You’d made him look like that. You were responsible for the pure, raw pleasure painted in every line of his being.

“That was…” He broke off, swallowing hard before opening his eyes. He blinked, looked down at you on the floor, smiled. “That was incredible.”

You smiled back, taking his hands in both your own. “You taste fucking divine,” you whispered as you kissed his knuckles. “And you did so well.”

You couldn’t tell past the orgasm-glow, but you thought he might have blushed. “You’re so… so beautiful, (Y/N),” he repeated. “And so warm, and soft, I–”

Now you were blushing, heat rolling up your neck, over your cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” you said softly as you stood, leaning down to press your lips against his. They immediately parted, tongue sliding beside your own, eager and exploratory. You shivered as his hands came to rest on your hips once more, pulling you closer as he shuffled backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Adam,” you murmured, still bent over him.

He tried to pull you closer still, gently, but still insistent. “What?”

You tried not to laugh at the hint of frustration in his voice. “Bed’s in the way. I can’t get any closer.”

“Yes you can.” He broke away, frowning. “Just sit on me.”

“Sit on you?” You glanced at his lap, back up again, raising your eyebrows. Did you hear that right?

“Yes. Sit on me.” He pulled again, and you were struck suddenly by the realisation that he really didn’t have to ask – or tell – you to do anything. If he wanted you on top of him that badly, he could easily pick you up and place you there without breaking a sweat. Hell, he could throw you across the room if he really got the urge. But he wasn’t forcing you. Even the pressure on your hips was gentle enough that you could have pulled away any time you wanted.

“Ok,” you smiled, steadying yourself on his shoulders as you knelt over his thighs.

“You can relax,” he urged, his hands running down over your hips to your thighs, back up again and over your waist, around to your back. His arms circled you, head bent as he mouthed at your neck. “Don’t have to hold yourself up.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.” You relaxed your legs, sinking down to rest atop his. He hadn’t stopped the attention he was giving to your neck, nosing your hair aside to kiss under your ear, along the hollow of your jaw, over your jugular, right across the tendons at the base of your throat. You tipped your head back for him, sighing in satisfaction as you ran your hand through his hair. His palms were warm where they pressed into your back, his chest and stomach smooth against your own.

“Closer,” he whispered under your ear, pushing you further up his legs.

You shifted, your stomach backflipping as your pelvis met his. He hummed into your skin, pressing you harder against himself, his cock hard again and hot where it lay between your bodies. His mouth had moved lower, to your breasts, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin just as gently as he’d done to your neck.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” you breathed, rocking your hips.

“Hm, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled at that. “You won’t, I promise. I wanna see this tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and maybe even the day after that, too.”

You felt him nod, and then moaned because yes he was really using his mouth now. His teeth grazed your skin as he sucked a dark mark just below your collar bone, soothing it quickly with his tongue. He looked up at you momentarily for approval, and at your smile, bent again to repeat it. Yep, you were going to be seeing those for a while.

“Adam,” you gasped as he stooped lower, leaving a trail of wet hickeys down the centre of your chest.

“Hm?”

“I know I was kind of – oh – in control last time,” you started, biting your lip as he turned his attention to your breast. “Do you want – fuck, yes – to try being in charge?”

“No,” he said after a pause. He looked up, hand ghosting up your side to stroke a particularly large and dark hickey. “I liked it.”

That wasn’t what you’d been expecting. He was always so happy to go along with whatever everyone else was doing, which you supposed was another side effect of Sovereign upbringing, you’d assumed he might like to take the lead. He seemed to be having an excellent time exploring your body at his leisure.

“Ok then,” you smiled as you ground against him. “Do you want me to do it again?”

“Yes.” His breathing was heavy as he nodded. “Please, (Y/N).”

“Ok.” You reached down, taking his cock in your hand. “Ready?”

He broke away from your chest, looking up at you like you’d hung the bloody stars. His hand joined yours as he closed the distance, kissing you softly at first, then with less coordination as you lined him up and sank down, sighing against his lips. His fingers gripped your thigh, tight enough that you wondered if they were leaving marks, a deep groan echoing through the space between you.

“Alright?” you murmured, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked.

“Alright,” he echoed. He stroked up your leg, under the back of your thigh, squeezing gently at the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you. You wondered if he was trying to get you off him for a second, then he was lowering you back onto himself and it clicked.

“Like this?” you asked, rocking your hips over his. God, he fit so perfectly, it was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. How had you glossed over that the first time?

“Yes, yes,” he sighed. “(Y/N), you’re– yes, like that.”

You wondered if he knew what he was doing to you as you practically whined, steadying yourself against his shoulders just as you had before. His arm was around your waist, holding you close as you lifted and lowered your hips, your chest brushing his with every movement.

His lips had returned to your neck, warm and soft. “Is this good?” he asked as he sucked at the as yet unmarked skin there. “For you?”

Wow, you were ruined for anyone else. “So good, Adam,” you whispered, running your hands over his shoulders, the back of his neck. “You feel so fucking good.”

He groaned deep in his chest, his hips jerking up into yours. And oh if that didn’t turn you on more than you already were. Just your words could have that effect on him. Eight little words and your touch, and he did that. The power was intoxicating.

“What you do to me,” he was saying, guiding your movements. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Yeah?” You slid one hand down, trailing over his chest and stomach before finding the mess of heat and slick and sweat where your body met his. Your fingers danced over your clit, a sharp hiss of air between your teeth.

“No idea,” he repeated, the words gliding over your skin like water.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “fuck, Adam. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You felt him smile. “Hm?”

“You feel fucking amazing,” you hissed past the steady pleasure-ache of his cock hitting that place deep inside you, your fingers on your clit. It was building with every slap of your hips against his, hot and tight.

“Oh, (Y/N)--”

“Love feeling you fill me up,” you continued. “Dreamed about what it’d be like.”

“What is it like?”

“Like – fuck, Adam – it’s like fucking Heaven, I swear–”

He groaned your name again, desperate and God, you were so close.

“You look like Heaven,” you panted, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head back. You searched his face past the pleasure-haze already clouding your vision, dipping down to kiss him hard. It was as messy as the first not-quite-kiss had been, all tongue and breath and your whispered “so fucking pretty” as you licked into his mouth.

“So are you,” he managed, hands kneading at the soft skin of your waist and hips, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“Love hearing you say my name,” you went on, your fingers working harder and faster. “All those sounds you make, so perfect–”

“(Y/N).” He said it like a prayer, like an incantation, and if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever heard, you didn’t know what was.

“Gonna make me cum, Adam holy shit–”

He thrust harder up into you, lips fastened to the hollow under your jaw, moving you hard and fast against himself. “Yes, do it, cum on me,” he babbled. “Let me make you feel good.”

That did it. The bomb of pleasure inside you exploded, fizzing out though your legs as you spasmed around him, a desperate cry of his name torn from you. You held him tight, fingers twisting in his hair, half conscious of his own litany of curses and praises and your name repeated throughout as he continued to move your boneless body. He spilled hot inside you, and when you finally regained control of your mind, he was breathing hard against your chest and shoulder.

“Are you alright?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Yes,” he nodded. His grip on you had loosened considerably, his hands roaming soothingly up and down your back. “Are you?”

You sighed, then laughed as you drew back. His brow furrowed as you held his face between your hands. “Am I alright?” you echoed incredulously. “Adam, you are amazing.”

The frown deepened. “So… yes?”

“Yes.” You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. This kiss was gentle, slow and thorough, and he smiled at you when you parted. “Will you stay this time?” you asked.

“Yes.” Then, “Can I clean you up again?”

“Yes.” You sighed as he effortlessly shifted you off himself, setting you gently on the bed. You could feel his cum leaking slowly out of you, the air cool against your sweat, his spit still on your skin, and the mess of arousal around your crotch. He wasn’t in any better shape, really, but still he moved with ease and grace towards the doorway, returning in record time with a damp cloth.

Something inside you ached with how gentle he was. Thorough, but he drew away at the slightest hint of discomfort. He’d done this before, you supposed, when you’d been asleep. You remembered him telling you he was going to clean you up, had heard his footsteps retreating, but had dozed off before he’d returned. Still, you’d woken up relatively clean, and there’d been the blanket, too. If it had been anyone else the thought would have made you feel violated, perhaps, but not with him. With him it made your heart melt.

“Let me,” you said softly when he’d finished, taking the cloth and wiping at the mess around his crotch with a clean portion. You tossed the cloth aside when you were done, shuffling backwards, pulling him to lie with you. It took some wriggling, but eventually you settled face to face under the blanket, his arm draped over your ribs, fingers toying with the hair at the back of your head, your own hand splayed over his heart.

“I meant it,” he said softly. “What I said before.”

“Hm?”

“You’re important to me.” Although the bronze had faded from his face, leaving it the shining gold you were used to, his lips were still slightly swollen, his eyes bright. In the dimness of the corner of the room, with the light behind him, he seemed to glow.

“Oh,” you smiled, then sighed as you shifted barely an inch closer “You’re important to me too, Adam.”

He leaned forward over the tiny gap, kissing your lips ever so gently. “Can we… do this again? When we’re back?”

“Yeah. I’d like to.” You paused, taking your turn to kiss him. “I like being with you,” you whispered as you pulled away.

Adam smiled. His hand flattening against your shoulder blades, he pulled you in against his chest. His skin was so warm, and you could hear his heart beating, feel his breathing.

“I like being with you, too.”

Note: I feel like this wasn't quite up to par with what I've written in the past, and I'm genuinely not sure why or how I can fix it. I've re-read both of these like five times now (after finishing them) and have edited them endlessly, but I just can't seem to make them feel right. Anyone else every get that? Either way, hope you guys enjoyed these x

#adam warlock #adam warlock smut #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #mcu #marvel #gotg3 #gotg vol 3 #fanfiction #fanfic #shameless smut #smut

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nail-art-no-jutsu · 24 days

Text

Itachi and Kisame nail polish headcanons

Itachi

he was super on board from day one, like yes hello fellow villains, I too am a fellow villain, if this is how we aim to distinguish ourselves from other ninja, by all means

he didn't get it right from the start, but he practiced A Lot, and figured out what works and what doesn't, because painting your nails is a skill, just like making perfect eggs for your little brother

and it was only a matter of time until Itachi was able to perfect every aspect of the thing

it's an absolute mystery how it happens but his one coat lasts for ages on his nails, Itachi is the second slowest at using up a whole bottle after Kakuzu, who silently appreciates this

Deidara's reaction to Itachi's flawless mani: "being careful not to flood your cuticles is overrated, un"

he rather likes the color, it's soothing, he's glad he wasn't assigned red to match his sharingan, it would look a bit too much like blood, and he doesn't need any reminder of the blood on his hands, thank you very much shfjfsfdsfs

and it's actually a fun activity, it's challenging enough to demand complete focus even when you're good at it, Itachi learned fast that you make a mess if you let your mind wander, so it provides a small but much needed break for his overactive brain

in a better world Itachi would have liked to discover this fun little thing in a different way and maybe Sasuke would have liked to learn to do his nails too, red probably - this is a world where red means tomatoes, not blood - and he could already imagine his lil bro asking him to teach him better clean-up skills and--

oops.

that was too much polish.

sigh.

Kisame

"we all have to do what?? ... okay :D this is fine :D"

nothing wrong with it in general, but... that color, why so intense, why not a blue that matches his skin, does purple even look right on him? does anything??

so he procrastinates, acts like he forgot, or he lost his bottle, but it always reappears like magic before Kakuzu can hold him accountable lmao

as soon as Itachi realizes the truth though, that alarm goes off in his head that puts him in unstoppable mode. his mission? make Kisame understand that there's nothing wrong with how he looks

so Itachi asks Kisame to let him do his nails too. for practice. there's always more room for practice. and it's such a powerful shade of purple, it suits Kisame perfectly, it looks great on him

Kisame tries to deflect the compliment, but then Itachi shows him purple flowers by the shore, and how beautiful that looks, and, ... okay. okay.

and that's how Kisame ends up with perfectly polished fingernails and toenails that he's proud of

it's an unspoken thing, the same way that Kisame says he's tired when it's very obvious that Itachi should rest but he'll never say so himself, and it's obvious to both of them what game they're playing

it's a peaceful ritual, they talk about all kinds of things, get to know each other, read between the lines, so on, so forth, and at least for a short while they can both pretend all is well

after a while Itachi shows signs of his health worsening, and then it's Kisame's turn to practice - "if you keep doing stuff for other people, they don't get to practice doing it themselves, don't you agree, Itachi-san? :D :D" and there's no way around it, Itachi lets Kisame do his nails

by now Kisame learned what to do just by watching Itachi do it so many times, if he gets polish on Itachi's fingers he knows how to clean it up properly too so they look exactly as if Itachi had done them himself

Kisame is sure that every "mistake" Itachi ever made was just to show him how to fix it but shh that's part of the secretly taking care of each other game

after Itachi's gone Kisame doesn't really wanna talk about it, but sometimes when he thinks no one's looking he checks his mani and he's like, "yep, Itachi-san was right, this color looks great on me" and grins because what else can he do lmao, what else can he do

#itachi #kisame #kisame hoshigaki #itachi headcanons #kisame headcanons #kisaita headcanons #akatsuki #akatsuki headcanons #kisaita #I could have added more shippiness to it but #maybe that could be a different post #akatsuki nail polish hcs

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

Text

—tangy

SUMMARY | this was supposed to be a simple, relaxing mission. all of that had been thrown out the train window as soon as you saw idiot one and idiot two

PAIRING | tangerine x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNINGS | spoilers for bullet train, hit men, mentions of murder, guns, ect

WORD COUNT | 1.7k+

AUTHORS NOTE | fell in love with tangerine while watching bullet train. what more is there to it

🍊 MASTERLIST 🍊 NAVIGATION 🍊 RULES 🍊

Confined spaces certainly makes the job easier for you.

You were able to observe everyone simultaneously. Being everywhere all at once. Sitting idily in a corner inconspicuously, sipping on a drink while pretending to read a newspaper. All the while watching as people fidgit with their fingers and mingle amongst nearby passengers. Keeping tabs on who leaves and who enters and how many times they do it.

In fact that's all you had been planning on doing for the next twenty four hours. Enjoying the ambiance of the lovely modern train as you waited for your mark. Probably opting on getting up to lure the target into a bathroom stall, slitting their throat once the lock had been clicked. An easy job by definition, especially for you. Practically a vacation handed to you on a silver platter.

That's why you almost choked on your fizzy drink when they walked in.

You'd never forgot a face. Not once. That's part of the reason you made for such a good hit man. Show you someone's high school picture once, and you'd be able to pick them out in a crowd forty years after it had been taken. And when I say pick them out, I mean with a gun. Preferably from a rooftop. Probably from a rooftop.

So you recognized the leather jacket and blue suit almost immediately. After all how could you forget. Your annoyance for them had been all but solidified in concrete the moment the loud one had shot your leg in Russia, his twin just watching. That cast was a bitch to lug around for half a year, and everytime it thumped against the staricase in your house you cursed the both of them.

Suppressing a groan, your eyes cautiously watched from behind the pages of a comically large larg magazine as Lemon and Tangerine walked down the isle of the train compartment together, facing each other while bickering quite loudly. Or at least doing what you assumed was to be bickering. Knowing them, they probably just used that many curse words in a casual conversation anyway.

"I've told you a thousan' times, bruv." You listed to Lemon slur his words with that thick accent of his, practically spitting fire at his twin. "It's Thomas The Tank Engine. Not Thomas the Train. Get that in ya thick skull."

"Oh well, ex-fucking-scuze me. I didn' know I'd be gettin schooled on a fuckin kids show today, twat." Tangerines eyeroll was all but audible in response. He ignored as fellow passengers swapped offended looks with each other at their language. You'd imagine he'd be flipping them off if he wasn't so busy basically biting his brothers head off.

They were nearly past your booth now and out of the train car, your fingers tightening around the reading material in front of you in anticipation. For a moment you thanked whoever had given the both of them such long legs and speedy strides, happy as long as they were out of sight. Didn't matter that they would still be on the train. As long as they didn't see you, all was well.

So of course they would choose that moment to stop right in front of your fucking seat. The urge to stand up and kick them both in their asses was only increasing. Not that it wasn't already high up there in the first place.

"I don't give a bloody damn when ya smart ass people half the time you bastard. Here me complanin? Nope." Lemon popped the p at the last word, pointing a finger at his companions chest. "But no one, and I mean no one ya cheeky fuck, bad mouths Thomas in front of me."

"Right. And what you gonna do about it, fruit boy. Stick a diesel sticker on me when I ain't lookin?"

"I just might. An don't call me fruit boy. You're the one who came up with those names in the first place 'member?"

Your muscled tensed up in preparation when Tangerine suddenly whipped around to you, dragging Lemons attention along with him. The cool metal of your gun brushed against your fingertips as you slowly reached under the trains table for where it was hidden. Maybe this time you'd have an excuse to shoot them in the legs. Send them a hallmark card in the hospital afterwards. Something cheep and tacky. You were petty like that.

"Hey, mate, mind reminding my buddy here tha' grown ass adults don't watch the cartoon channel and he's due for a visit to the loony bin?"

You just glared at him and his stupid fucking 90's porn stache, frown deepening as you watched recognization well up in his eyes.

"Hang on." Your hand twitched with the urge to rip his tounge out of his mouth as it ran across his bottom lip. "I know you—"

"Oh for fucks sake."

You hopped up, abandoning your cozy little corner in turn for dragging him by the lapel of his now wrinkled suit into the connecting cabin of the train cars. You imagined that if they hadn't been so surprised by an innocent looking samaritan dragging their asses along, you would be sporting two new holes in the side of your head.

"One job! I had one job and the two of you had to muck it all up!" Words hissed out of your mouth like steam from a gas can as you dropped your grip on Tangerine and turned away from him, revealing your own gun nonchalantly. They were both quick to draw their own, stances stiff and confused in contrast to your loose but annoyed one.

"Ay I recognize you now." Lemon looked over at Tangerine, gesturing his gun to you loosely. "Russia. A broken leg. James the train, 'member?"

"Would you stop it with the Thomas the train shit for one fffuckin moment?" He hissed back. "Yeah I remember 'em. But that dosent explain what the hell their doin on this train now does it?"

"Nothing that concerns you." You saved them the trouble of yet another fighting match. "And wait, James the train?"

"Yeah." Lemons eyes brightened slightly while looking at you. As if happy someone was asking him about his interest in the train show without attempting to shit on it. "A James. Impatient but gets shit done. Kinda determined too."

You blinked.

"Okay now I like him." You turned your gun over to Tangerine completely now, the man's eyes widening as he sputtered slightly.

"What?!"

You shrugged with an unbothered and downward turn of your lips. "He complimented me. Plus he wasn't the one who shot me in the leg."

"Come-fucken-on that was not a fucken compliment!!"

"I dunno bruv." Lemon shrugged, mirroring your earlier action. "It kinda was."

"Yeah, alright I definitely like you now."

"Oh come off it you bitch! Help me out here or I'll fuckin kill you before they shoot me!" Tangerine spat. You listened as Lemon snickered.

"Hey. I'm good at readin people wha' can I say. And they certainly aren't lookin to shoot any of us right now. That's not a very Jamss thing of them ta do." You sent Lemon a kind thank you—to which he returned it with a your welcome. Tangerine was left alone to seethe in anger.

"Stop that before you blow a gasket." You made a face, referring to the way Tangerines jaw clenched as if he were attempting to chew glass. "Your brother here, Lemon, is right. I don't really feel like carrying your lifeless body across this train right now. I just want to get my damn job done and then go see a cherry tree grove or something."

He grumbled whilst Lemon preened at your recognization of his correct assumption.

"Besides. I'd hate to shoot you in the face and ruin your best asset. Would really ruin my day more than it already has been." A loose sigh made it past your lips. "Fucking up shit is more your style anyways."

You could tell Tangerine was struggling with being of the receiving end of such a blatant compliment and insult on the same time—practically picking through his brain for a measurable response. Either way he was about to run his mouth, and you'd wasted enough time on the job already.

"If I see either of you pass by through my train car again, it better just be that: passing through. Anything else and I am not afraid to end up leaving a few people with ringing ears. Capishe?" The gun in your hands was nodded at strictly, the not so hidden threat being left out in the open for all to interpret.

"Loud and clear mate." Lemon grinned.

"Good. Now scram."

"Hold on love—"

"Call me love again, and I rip that mustache off and shove it straight up that ass of yours. Now ta-ra, or whatever pricks like you say." You were already leaving, so sadly you didn't get to see the look on Tangerines face as you walked off, really just wanting to finish that drink you'd left behind now. Although you wouldn't complain if you were to find something a bit stronger than soda. Especially after that.

The twins waited until you were out of the connecting room before either of them went to speak.

"You know." Lemon clamped a hand down on Tangerines arm with a toothy grin. "If I didn' know any better bruv, I would say tha' you have a thing for them. Not everyday you get a compliment on your ugly mug."

"Must have hit your head boarding. And get ya fucken greasy bitch ass hand off me." He snarled, swatting his brothers hand off his shoulder. "They just threatened to kill me for fucks sake. And I them!"

"I dunno. They seemed like they're a little partial to oranges themself."

"It's tangerines idiot! Tangerines!"

"Whatever. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

#tangerine x reader #tangerine #bullet train #bullet train x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #bullet train x you #bullet train x y/n #fanfic #x reader #one shot #bullet train tangerine #assassin!reader #tangerine fanfiction #bullet train fanfic

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navnae · 1 year

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(This was inspired by @sarahmadisonxoxo )

During the summer Wayne made it very clear that he wanted Eddie to do something as long as he wasn’t laying around the house idea, Eddie wanted to tell him that he wasn’t technically doing nothing around the house since he had customers daily and he was making hood money by doing his little side hustle but of course he had to fight the urge to say that for obvious reasons. So Eddie stayed true to Wayne’s wishes and he started looking for a steady job for the meantime that wasn’t too difficult or paid badly. Out of every option he had there was only a few jobs that seemed like they were worth giving a chance until Eddie finally made his decision and chose one.

A pizza delivery guy.

If you would’ve told Eddie that he would be spending his time delivering pizza for majority of the summer he would’ve laughed in your face and carried on with his day. Luckily for him every day went by very smoothly, most interactions he had were sweet and almost surreal in a way. His coworkers were also amazing people even when the day would be a little rough they would still be in the happiest mood. Eddie had to admit that he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way when it came to getting a job, this one suited him well and the pay wasn’t so bad either. Usually a normal shift for him would be arriving around 3:00 p.m. and delivering the pizzas for awhile til it hit around 9 then he could go home for the night. Tonight was no different, he gathered the pizza from off the counter as soon as the box slid towards him and he was on his way. He already had the address memorized which shockingly he was extremely good at and if it ever came down to it he could probably recite all the address in hawkins by the end of the summer. After a few minutes Eddie arrived in a very nice neighborhood that he recognized immediately. It was common knowledge that only the rich kids lived in the area and he knew that someone like him needed to finish up this task quickly.

Eddie passed a few houses while trying to look for the address that was given to him then eventually he found the place. He pulled into the driveway of the insanely large house in front of him and he couldn’t help it that his jaw was currently on the floor. Eddie could only fantasize about living in a house this big, all the party’s he could throw or the endless amounts of band practice that would take place inside of it. He’s be in complete bliss of it all. Eddie sighed deeply once he realized that in reality this would never be his lifestyle no matter how hard he tries to imagine it and he had to do his job. He got out of the car before walking up to the front door with the pizza in his hand then he knocked on the door and waited. Eddie had all these thoughts about who could possibly be living in a house like this, he assumed that a classy middle aged woman could be but he ruled that out because in his mind pizza would be to basic for her. A businessman was next his head and it was those types that were really successful but also huge assholes too, he erased that guess out of his mind too since that didn’t make sense to him either. Eddie’s thoughts were cut short when the door opened in front of him and it revealed someone he least expected.

Steve Harrington opened the door with his chest hair on full display and he was wearing these black shorts that hugged his thighs perfectly. His hair fell messily confirming that he just woke up especially after yawning while rubbing his eyes, Eddie took in his appearance and he hated to admit it but Steve looked good. Eddie started to stare for a little too long making Steve look at him with confusion and he began to wave his hand in front of Eddie’s face.

“Hello?” Steve said with his voice raised a little. Eddie snapped out of his trance and blushed from embarrassment. He fumbled a bit with the paper he had that required Steve’s signature and he tried everything in his power to avoid making eye contact with him.

“S-sorry about that,” Eddie stuttered. He quickly held his hand out with the paper in it and somehow managed to give him the pen as well in one go. “Sign this please.”

Eddie didn’t mean for his voice to crack when he spoke and he didn’t expect Steve to laugh in the process. His face burned as he looked in any other direction that wasn’t Steve. A few seconds later Steve was handing back the paper and the pen to Eddie then getting his pizza in exchange. Eddie’s nerves were kicking his ass when he held out the pizza for Steve to take and he couldn’t stop shaking to save his life. He didn’t know if Steve was doing it on purpose but his gaze was intense when he looked at Eddie then he had the nerve to laugh again making the already struggling man blush once again.

“Thank you.” Steve spoke lowly. Eddie was already down the driveway before he could see Steve’s face or register what was being said to him. All he knew was that now his body felt like a sauna and it’s all Steve’s fault. No one in their right mind answer the door that way unless they want to be looked at. Eddie sat in his car with his head in his hands as his heart started beating rapidly just at the thought.

“Bastard.” Eddie mumbled. He already had a list of things that were going wrong in his life and now him being a attracted to Steve made it to the top. Just his luck.

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mychoombatheroomba · 2 months

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Black-Out Names

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 39

You read through your contraband and Leon finds a way to spend time with you - in short, both of you continue to find new ways to break the rules.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

Leon’s muscles aching, finishing the day with fresh bruises, getting knocked on his ass thanks to your and Krauser’s combined efforts, stealing glances at you when there was a lull in instruction . . . it was almost like old times. If what had only been a few months ago could be considered “old times”.

Having you back after that first week was enough to brighten the worst days.

Even if you couldn’t join the rest of the squad in marches, or combat drills, you were at least allowed now to sit in for Reed and Hellman’s lessons. Leon watched you throw yourself into the studies, unyielding in your desire to learn. To prepare in some way for what was out there. Every time the agents would go over knowledge of known bioweapons, your eyes would sharpen, your muscles tensing. And if your body couldn’t perform right now, you made every effort to make sure that your mind could. Even if it meant setting mock explosives up with Krauser every morning before drills - and sometimes while everyone was taking meals. Even if it resulted in tripwires being set up in annoyingly inconvenient places, you were doing a little better. You always worked best when you had a goal. A purpose. You wouldn’t fall completely behind, if you could help it.

Leon did his best to follow suit, trying to work in time to practice new skills between nights sparring with the others, or getting his ass handed to him by Major Krauser - who still took to the task with fervor. The impending graduation made it easier to focus, but you . . .

Maybe Krauser hadn’t been entirely wrong about you being a weakness, because it was hard not for Leon to look your way when he was in the classroom with you. It was hard not to let his thoughts drift to you during the day, wishing it was you that he locked blades with instead of Valeria or the others.

With Hellman’s eyes on the two of you, though, he knew he couldn’t afford to be obvious. He couldn’t even afford to let a glance betray the two of you.

Still, on those days when you weren’t helping Krauser set clever traps and you joined the others in the mess hall, he would sit at your side. You were friends, after all. Reed and Hellman knew that much. There was no harm in you two speaking, so long as it was in public. With others. Still, Leon would sometimes risk a self-indulgent touch; fingers brushing as he handed you water, his knee resting against yours under the table . . .

He felt like he was in a goddamn old-timey movie. One of secret affairs and longing glances. Forbidden love.

You would have hated that way of describing it, but Leon would have given just about anything to see your annoyance at the description. He could imagine the eye-roll you’d give him. You’d probably continue that eye roll as he kissed you, too, he could almost see it.

He could almost see a lot of things, as he sought solace in the memory of your touches.

It wasn’t enough.

He’d gone a long time without your touch before, at Fort Benning, but now it was your company he craved, too. Desperately. With eight - and now seven - weeks on the clock, he wanted as much time with you as possible before he was shipped off to fight the horrors Reed and Hellman described to the others. The monsters that Leon, in ever-dwindling spare time, would describe to his squad mates, telling them how he fought and killed the nightmares. He wasn’t ready to face them again, and he wasn’t ready to leave you behind.

So, he would seek opportunities to be with you. Reed and Hellman wanted him to learn spy shit? He could do that. He could find more ways to be around you that wouldn’t draw suspicion.

And he started that process mostly by accident.

⧫⧫⧫

You had never been one to stay up late reading, even before joining the Army. Your youth had been spent in other ways, and if there was a late night to be had, it was often one involving being out and about in the world, finding ways to get in trouble.

You hadn’t thought that your C.O. would so readily help you find that trouble.

The reports weren’t supposed to be in your hands - that much was clear. Krauser would have just openly given them to you if they were something you were supposed to have. So, during the day and when you helped the Major with setting up more traps around the base, you kept them stashed away in the lining of the mattress you slept on.

In the free hours of the night, though . . . you kept the light on and the blinds closed, and you did as Krauser ordered you to do; you read.

Leon was the one trained to be a police officer. You’d been a grunt from the day you could put the uniform on, but still you found your mind making connections. You were an investigator, trying to understand just how everything had gone so wrong. Trying to tie together the events that had put you and Leon and so many others through such hell.

It did your mind no favors, knowing that, whatever else was going on behind the scenes with Umbrella, all known records of anything bioweapon-related started on a date you knew all too well.

January 29th, 1998.

The night your life nearly ended and was forever changed.

You didn’t reread the report. You were the one who made it, after all. You’d agonized over the details of that night enough.

Total destruction . . .

Viral weaponry . . .

Unknown paramilitary group involvement . . .

One survivor . . .

The only thing of importance in that report was the date. The fact that everything else followed it, which exhumed an old guilt that had started to eat at you when you heard the reports of Raccoon City. Even if the government had wanted to cover up what happened there, you’d seen the news. Heard the reports of people gone mad, a strange sickness that made its victims violent.

“She looked like a corpse. Like a walking corpse!” you’d heard on the radio, one day. You remembered.

You’d known in your heart what it all was, before it had even been confirmed to you. And in those nights you spent reading and rereading, you found yourself filled with anger. You’d often thought that if you’d been faster or stronger or smarter on that night in January, then maybe there would have only been one report for you to read through now. You’d let your own guilt talk you into believing that you could have stopped what was to come.

Now, though, reading a chain of communications from August, you realized that it was inevitable that it would end up this way, because the government that employed you had smelled blood and come running.

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: (𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎)

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖: █.█.

𝙼𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 ███████ ██████, 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸’𝚖 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 ███████ 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.

𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙��𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 ███████ 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚒𝚏 𝚋𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗.

𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝, 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚝 █████ ████ 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 - 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗.

𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗 - 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍, 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚋𝚎.

𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢.

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎.

You’d read that part time and time again. You’d let ink on paper seed rage and retribution in your heart. Even blacked out, you knew the name of the scientist writing - Leon had told you and Krauser both all those nights ago. Birkin. A name for you to assign blame to, if not for the knife in your gut, then for the creation of the virus that destroyed your life.

Trouble was, you didn’t have a name for whoever had been stupid enough to answer his call for help. Not with the letters blacked out, hidden from your view.

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝚁𝙴 (𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎)

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖: █.█.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝙳𝚛. ██████. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 . . . 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚛, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚄𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊’𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝚂 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚞𝚜 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜.

█████ ████

Not without something actionable . Reading that sentence was molten metal being poured into your gut. This wasn’t something the CIA agents had bothered to talk about. Nor would they, you imagined. Too damning. Too irredeemable. It left the taste of bile behind as you read confirmation of what Leon had already told you; the US had seen potential instead of tragedy from the destruction of your base.

Whoever this blacked-out name was, they’d wanted a weapon and damn the consequences.

Damn the consequences, and damn the man who made that weapon, as you later discovered.

𝚂𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸𝟽𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟶

𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝: █████ ████

𝚁𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢

█████ █████ 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚜 “█”. 𝙸𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝙳𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚢.

And then, a few lines down . . .

𝚂𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 30𝚝𝚑, 01:𝟶𝟶

𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝: █████ ████

𝚁𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 █████ █████, 𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝚂𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍.

Shit had hit the fan and they’d left Birkin out to dry. Him and whoever had been sent into the city on a suicide mission. You couldn’t say you pitied the Doctor. In fact, you were glad that he was dead. Glad that, according to what little Leon had told you of that night, Birkin had been stripped of his humanity by his own creation, until Leon put him down at last.

As you read the reports, you sighed as you learned that no one - or, at least, no one in the reports you were handed - had walked away with the virus. The US had lost out on their dirty prize. And then they’d destroyed an entire city.

All for Umbrella’s idiocy, hundreds of people had suffered. The man you cared for most in the world had suffered.

You needed to know all there was to know.

So you’d stayed up night after night, reading and piecing together the story until Krauser would come and get you to set more traps. And when you returned, you would read into the waking hours or until exhaustion demanded rest, whichever came first.

Even if you’d asked, in essence, to see those reports, they frustrated you.

As if you weren’t already frustrated enough as it is with your situation.

The only thing keeping you sane were your outings onto base. Going with Krauser at night to set the traps . . . and the few classes you were allowed to take with your squad. Seeing Leon again, even if it had to be in public settings, even if you couldn’t let yourself express what you wanted to express, was enough to keep you sane and make you teeter on the edge all at once.

So you focused on reading. On the radio. On anything you could focus on.

Like the little lockpicking set in your hands, one you twisted and turned, trying to get it to click open.

Hellman had been nice enough to give you a few sets of locks to practice on - as if “nice” was an act you really bought from the man who’d waterboarded and beaten you. Maybe he felt bad that his friend broke your ribs. Reed sure as hell didn’t. The darker-eyed agent hadn’t really spoken more than a few words to you since the interrogations. That suited you well enough. Getting into a fistfight would be a bad idea in your condition.

A really cathartic, bad idea . . .

The pins aligned, and the lock in your lap gave way, opening up to nothing at all but a slight feeling of satisfaction, somewhat familiar. You’d tried to learn in your youth. Helped to have actual instruction now, even if it was from men you hated.

“You’re goo’ a’at.” The observation was barely audible as Doc shoveled more pasta into his mouth. Penne with a red sauce. You were fairly certain that Krauser had asked the medic to watch and make sure you weren’t doing anything to aggravate your injuries. You were also fairly certain he was always eating homemade meals in the room just to torture you.

Joke’s on you, old man. Been there, done that.

“Have to be. It’s all I really can do.” That might have been an over exaggeration, but there was enough truth there to warrant the statement.

It just made the grizzled man swallow and shrug. “You’re good at picking radio stations and frowning, too.”

You wouldn’t have hesitated to tell a superior officer to fuck off, once. Not one who had started becoming less and less formal with you, anyway. Still, you held your retort but for a glower.

Besides, footfalls and Doc’s attention being drawn elsewhere stole your chance for a reply.

You couldn’t be mad at the theft when you looked up and saw who stepped into the room.

Only Leon could look so gorgeous covered in mud and grime, his fatigues dirtied on the front and his arms covered in it too. Arms that were held up against his chest, one hand clasped over the other. It wasn’t a tight enough grip to prevent the blood from slipping down his muddied arm, though - a sight that made your eyes widen involuntarily.

“What’d you do this time, rookie?” Doc asked, setting his lunch down and rising to his feet.

Leon looked from the older man to you, and there was no evidence of real pain in his soft smile. “Ask that one. Unless you want to tell me someone else put a tripwire charge in barbed wire.”

Ah, so he’d been the first one to run across the tripwire charge that you and Krauser had left there the night before. Well, more so the Major than you. The low hanging barbed wire set up to train for the infiltration course wasn’t something that you’d be crawling through any time soon - a fact that should have immediately cleared you of any blame for setting the charge there. Now, were you guilty of thinking of putting it there? That was another story.

Did you feel guilty for your little idea causing Leon to bleed?

Also another story.

“Come on,” Doc moved forward, ignoring the playful jab thrown at you. “Let’s see.”

It was a nasty cut. Or maybe tear would be the better word. Deep and still gushing some blood on Leon’s right hand. Nothing incredibly serious, but for the mud Leon had been crawling through. “Krauser wanted me to go get it cleaned.” Your suspicion was confirmed with those words, and Leon once again looked between you and the Doc.

“Better stitch it, too,” the Doc nodded, pulling the supplies he’d need as you were struck with a feeling of deja vu. It wasn’t so long ago you were stitching up Leon after the tear gas ambush, telling him that you wanted to talk about the kiss you’d shared. You’d been able to offer your services then and have it not be suspicious, so Doc would leave the room. You weren’t sure you could do that a second time without raising the man’s scraggly eyebrows. Luckily, though, as he searched through what he had available, you realized that you might not need to. “Come on . . .” he groaned. “Make yourself useful and clean it out, would you? My idiot assistants didn’t replace the thread.” A fact you were all too grateful for as Doc left to grab some and you and Leon were finally, mercifully, gifted your first few moments alone.

Leon wasted no time, just as you knew he wouldn’t.

“So,” he said, watching as you collected the supplies to clean his wound, “you gonna kiss it better?”

It was stupid enough to stop your movements, and you just raised your eyes to meet Leon’s, unable to stand the cheeky grin he gave you.

No, that was a bold-faced lie. You adored that look.

Smug bastard knew it, too.

“You been thinking of that one the whole walk over?” you asked, wiping away the grime carefully and then disinfecting the cut. It was bigger than you thought, now that you were getting a good look at it, a rip in the flesh between his thumb and pointer finger. “You know, you’re supposed to avoid the barbed wire.”

Leon smiled, not even flinching this time around as you poured the disinfectant over the wound. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

And Krauser called you the smartass.

“So you, what, decided to backhand it this time around?”

“Wire had it coming,” Leon shrugged, but then after a deadpan from you, he shifted to a more serious tone. “I was trying to disarm the charge. I triggered it instead and pulled my hand away too fast.”

That made you raise another incredulous look his way. The charges you and Krauser had been little more than firecrackers - a placeholder for the real thing. Still, you supposed that having your hand right next to an explosive of any kind when it went off wasn’t a good idea. Still . . .

“Think you were just looking for an excuse to end up in the infirmary.” Your voice was low, just in case the Doc came back.

Leon just smiled and shrugged. “Believe whatever you want,” he said, blue eyes finding your own. Searching and savoring in a way that sent sparks through you. Was that all it took, now? Just him looking into your eyes, like you were some idiot teenager looking at their crush?

It would be so easy to close the distance between you. A quick journey that you so desperately wanted to take.

But as you heard Doc’s returning footsteps, you backed off. Even if the man, you were fairly sure, had helped Krauser pass along classified documents to you, you didn’t want to take a risk like that.

Now, a risk of another kind . . .

“If I stitch him up for you,” you looked over at Doc as he returned, the older soldier caught by surprise as you spoke, “can I have some of your fancy home-made lunches?” Frame it as you wanting something else. Reed and Hellman teaching you to all to move and act without suspicion could be their downfall, because Doc didn’t seem suspicious whatsoever of your offer.

Just annoyed.

“You want payment in my wife’s cooking for stitching up one cut?” he asked, and Leon smiled at you sympathetically. “You want good food, kid, you gotta earn it.” The older man looked between you and Leon’s injury, and then shrugged once more. “Not a bad place to start, though.”

You could work with that. Not only an opportunity to be with Leon right now, but a chance to maybe get some better food overall? That sounded like a net gain to you.

So, you sealed Leon’s cut with needle and thread, your hands steady even if the rest of your body felt like it was atrophying slowly. Just as you’d done all those nights before, you worked near silently, doing your best to get this done painlessly . . . but not too quickly. You wanted whatever time you had with him to last, and even stitching up a wound for him was something you’d savor, because it was the first time in nearly two weeks you’d been able to touch him. To do something for him.

Still, he had to get back to training. He had to focus, because his life was going to be in danger again far sooner than your own. You couldn’t take away from his time preparing for that-

“So I was thinking,” Leon began, his tone more neutral than you’d heard it in a long time. Almost . . . formal was the wrong word, but nowhere near the playfulness you’d heard from him even a minute ago. He spoke in a measured way, even as you pushed a needle through his skin and tugged on the thread tied to it. You looked up, realizing his eyes were set on the little open lock and lock picking set you’d left on the bedside table. “A lot of us are still struggling with the stuff they’re showing us in Reed and Hellman’s lessons.” A gesture to the very lock that had caught his eye. “Thought we could all work on it together. In our off hours.”

Not beaming at him took some effort, because you knew he was just coming up with more excuses to spend time with you in a safe way, even if he was serious about wanting to practice new skills.

“Sounds like a plan.” You didn’t have to think hard to agree, didn’t have to hide the fact that you thought it was a good idea.

You would just hide why you did.

And so, that night, you found yourself hosting a company of six, including yourself - even Alejandro had joined in, this time. Just like that day after Krauser pulled you from the prison, you let the radio play softly as you all exchanged phrases in different languages, as you let Alenko correct your pronunciation, or you showed Williams how you’d gotten a particular lock to turn.

It was all good practice, good knowledge for you and everyone to have . . . but your attention was divided. Torn between the man you wanted so desperately to get lost in, and the folder of reports you’d stashed beneath your mattress. You thought of whether you should tell them all you’d learned.

You wanted to. The knowledge you’d gained felt like it was trying to claw its way out of you, a beast looking for more of its own kind. You wanted to fill in the gaps of everything you didn’t know. You wanted to have the full picture, because even now, it seemed that there were still things being kept from the others. You wanted to know everything there was to know. Names, locations - everything.

And yet . . . there were still two reports you refused to read. Two stories.

One known in full, the other known in pieces.

Those reports weighed on you for a different reason. It wasn’t about understanding an enemy, or why a tragedy beyond measure had happened. Your story and Leon’s weighed on you because, in the back of your mind, you knew that time was running out. Whatever happened to Leon after his graduation was beyond your control. It always had been - that was what you’d warned him of so long ago.

You would know as much about Leon S. Kennedy as you could before fate took control of you both.

And he would know as much as he wanted to know about you.

You would find a way to make sure of that.

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#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #jack krauser

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