#I just question my work I guess...apart of me is thinking finish all current open projects and shutdown my gif making

[lipglossanon]

They Were Roommates

୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆

Roommate!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

For the anon who asked for roommate Leon! 💜 I hope I did it justice 😬 🫣 this is pretty much just smut not much lead up 🫣

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight oral, cum swallowing, uhh I think that’s all lol

Not proofread (you know me 💁‍♀️ lmao)

Title pulled from a vine! It’s one of my faves lmao 🤣 ୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆

“What do you mean you didn’t put in the ad?”

You know your voice is pitching higher, but this couldn’t get any worse. The guy at least has the good grace to look apologetic. 

He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah, I guess my old roommate put that out but he ended up moving instead of me. He never told me he even made an ad, so I’m really sorry about that.”

Frustrated tears prick your eyes but you ignore them.

“So there’s no room to rent? This is literally my last resort before sleeping out in my car.”

He looks at your earnest face and the bags at your feet. You watch as his blue eyes dart back into the apartment and he frowns. 

“Well, do you have any references?” He finally sighs, “if you’ll give me their numbers, I’ll call them and if everything’s kosher I’ll let you rent the room.”

“Really?” Your smile lights up your whole face, “yes, I have some printed out. You’d really be doing me a favor.”

He blushes as you hand him the reference paper in question, looking down at it then back up at you, “I just don’t feel comfortable letting you go without somewhere to stay.”

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you,” you nod your head at the paper, “I’ll chill out here until you’re finished with that.”

“No,” he shakes his head, opening the door wider, “you can at least sit in the living room. I’ll make these calls and we can go from there.”

And that’s how your first meeting with Leon S. Kennedy, your current roommate, went.  So after months of living together, getting used to each other’s schedules and eating habits, you fall into a really nice and comfortable pattern. Leon is tidy and polite, but also kinda dorky and sweet. 

You find yourself excited to come home after a long, grueling day at the office. Leon works in law enforcement so sometimes he’s working opposite hours from yourself; this week, however, your schedules are synced and it’s Friday night which means movies and pizza. Even better is you got to leave work early, a rare occurrence that you won’t take for granted!

Opening the front door, you drop your keys back in your bag and sing out, “Honey, I’m home!”

You hear a muffled thud from the living room, making you pause in the entryway—door half shut behind you. 

“Leon?” you call out hesitantly. 

Hearing no answer, you quietly set your bag down and slowly inch your way further in the apartment. You peek around the wall into the living room and hold in a gasp. 

Leon is practically naked, the only thing covering his modesty is the flimsy boxers he has on—doing nothing to disguise the fact his dick’s hard. 

You notice a box of tissues tipped over in the floor along with lube which must be what caused the noise. Covering your mouth with your hand, you can’t pull your eyes away from the scene in front of you. 

Leon has his phone in hand, headphones connected, as he splays out lazily on the couch. His thighs are spread wide, taking up as much space as possible. You can see his other hand slide underneath the band of his underwear and jerk himself off in his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes glued to his phone, hand picking up speed. 

He rests his head on the back of the couch for a moment then pulls his cock completely out of his boxers. You have to swallow down a whine as you see how big and thick Leon’s cock is, throbbing in his hand as he pulls the foreskin down to show off the fat, oozing tip. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache in your clit.

Leon groans low in his throat and slowly strokes his cock, teasing his fingertips across the head.  He fingers the slit, precum oozing out and coating his fingers making them sticky. He sets his phone on the couch so he can keep watching but use both hands on himself. 

He pants and keeps slowly teasing himself with slow, light touches using one hand on his cock as the other gently rolls and tugs his balls. Your mouth waters at the thought of walking the rest of the way into the room and getting on your knees in front of him. As you watch Leon, slick drips from your pussy and fills your panties, making them wet and clingy. 

Leon tosses his head back with a low moan. He humps up into his hand as he fucks his fist in short steady strokes. Pausing, he reaches down for the lube and coats his hand in the clear, shiny liquid. He brings his coated palm back to his dick and moans as he jerks himself off more easily. 

“So wet,” he whispers to himself, “being so good for me, huh.”

You feel shameful arousal curling in your belly as you watch Leon in a private, intimate, moment; but you can’t help ask why he’d do this in the living room? You know you’re home early, but—

Wait, your eyes widen as your brain whirs with thoughts— is this even the first time? You bite your lip to stop yourself from whining. God, how many times has Leon jerked off in the living room while you weren’t here? Or even when you were??

“So good,” Leon’s voice rumbles, “suck that cock, baby, fuck.”

His hips slowly thrust up as his hand tightens around the thick shaft, “You’ve got such a pretty fucking mouth, sweetheart.”

Those words make you dizzy with arousal, a hot surge flooding your body so quickly it feels like you’re going to pass out. You rub your thighs together and can feel yourself starting to leak through your panties. 

Leon starts to fist his cock more roughly, precum and lube oozing over his knuckles. 

He groans, voice gravelly, “Can barely fit me in your mouth, baby.”

He bucks his hips up hard, “God, can even see how far you get cause of that ring of lipstick around my cock.”

You bite into the meat of your palm to curb any sounds, not wanting to get caught. You swallow thickly at the thought of getting caught while watching Leon get off. Maybe he’d want to see how far your mouth would fit around him. Leave your own sheen of strawberry lipgloss around his fat length. You rub your thighs together again, feeling more turned on than ever before in your life.  

Leon groans, pulling your attention back to him away from your own thoughts. One of his hands is still tugging his heavy looking balls while the other keeps a tight tunnel formed around his cock. 

You really want to touch yourself, but it’s hotter to just watch Leon. You can always get off later, remembering this moment.

Your wide eyes continue to watch as the leaky tip of Leon’s dick peeks out of his fist on every stroke—teasing you with the promise of hot cum on your tongue if you only dared enough to go in there for a taste. 

He quickly jerks himself harder, sounds of shlick shlick shlick filling the air. Leon starts humping up into his slick fist, growling in satisfaction as he rolls his hips just right.

“Fuck, you take it so well, baby. A tight little throat just for me.”

Your nipples tighten under your bra, clit throbbing with need. You’re so wet, you can feel it leaking down your thighs now. Torn between wanting to leave to touch yourself or watch Leon finish, you ultimately want to see him come undone. 

“Gonna cum all over that cute face, sweetheart,” Leon moans out, thrusting his hips harder as his hand strokes faster. 

Leon’s head lolls back on the couch, eyes closed as he strokes himself faster to completion.

“Yes, fuck,” he groans, low and deep, as ropes of cum spurt across his abs and chest, coating himself in white sticky strands. 

Your pussy flutters, aching and throbbing— needing something in your wet hole. Eyes darting up to his blissed out expression, his own eyes thankfully closed, you quietly tiptoe backwards to the front door. 

You pick your bag up off of the floor and pull the half open door completely open and walk out. You softly shut the door and lean back against it, blowing out a harsh breath.

You really don’t know how you’re going to react when you look Leon in the face, but I guess that’s just something you’ll wing when you get to it. 

Giving yourself several minutes to calm down, you finally re enter the apartment acting like it’s the first time. 

“Heey I’m home!” You yell, a little louder than usual, but you really hope Leon hears you this time. 

“Oh uh, hey,” you hear Leon call back, voice nervous, “you’re home early.”

“Yep!” you take more time than usual to close and lock the door behind you, dropping your bag in the floor near the coatrack. 

“Cool, I haven’t ordered the pizza if you wanna go ahead. I’m actually gonna grab a quick shower,” you can hear his voice get further away as he walks deeper into the apartment. 

You listen for the bathroom door to shut and once your hear it, you let out a relieved sigh. Opening up your phone, you just order the usual Friday night spiel and walk to your bedroom. 

Once inside, you close and lock the door. You shed your clothes like they’re on fire and quickly climb into your bed. This isn’t your usual way of doing things, but your brain is a little too fried to think outside of the image of Leon’s thick cock. 

You grab a pillow you only use as decoration and swing a leg over it as you kneel on top of it. Rocking your hips down, your clit grinds against the fabric and makes you whimper. Slick is steadily dripping from your needy hole as you hump your pillow, imagining Leon in its place. 

Using one hand to keep the pillow steady, your other hand comes up to tease and pinch at your nipples, shooting bolts of pleasure straight to your clit making you cry out softly. 

“Leon,” you whimper, rolling your nipples between your fingers. 

You rock against the pillow faster, already so close just from watching Leon earlier, dragging your wet sensitive clit over and over the coarse pillowcase. 

“God, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine out loud, eyelashes kissing your cheeks as your hips stutter and grind down, cumming so quickly it makes your thighs spasm. 

Slick covers your pillow as you shakily let your hips drop down to sit. Your clit pulses with aftershocks while you pant to catch your breath. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, flopping down onto your bed and pushing your used pillow into the floor. 

Your phone dings and you lazily grab it from your nightstand and look at the notification, reading that the pizza delivery is on its way. 

Pushing yourself up, you get out of bed and go to throw on some ratty pajamas when you pause. 

You pull out a sleeker, prettier matching pj set—a thin teasing top with matching  shorts. Deciding to try your luck, you put them on and give yourself a once over in the mirror. You fluff your hair and apply a quick layer of gloss on your lips, puckering them at the mirror before grinning at yourself. 

Spinning around, you make your way out of your room and into the shared living space hoping to, subtly, grab Leon’s attention as you hang out for the night. 

It works or at least maybe it does—it could be you’re looking too much into things; frowning to yourself, you shake your head and go back to relaxing on the couch. The pizza’s long since gone and now you’ve been chilling in the living room, watching b-rate horror flicks and chatting. You at least think Leon has been looking at you when you weren’t paying attention, but it’s hard to say when you’re not paying attention.  

You sigh out loud and cross your legs. 

“Something the matter?”

You start and turn to Leon with a sheepish smile, “Yeah just thinking.”

He squints his eyes at you, “Mmhmm.”

You laugh this time and kick out your foot to push his knee with your toes, “Fuck off, it’s nothing important.”

He grabs your foot and presses his thumb in the arch making you suck in a sharp breath. 

“You’ve been on your feet all day, haven’t you?” he asks, eyes looking down to his hands now rubbing your foot. 

You feel like melting into the couch cushions, a hot coil of want slowly unraveling in your belly. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, “was a long day.”

His brow pinches as he looks back up to you, “Did you talk to your boss about—“

You groan and flop back into the couch arm, kicking your other foot up into Leon’s lap, “Yes, mom. I talked to him and he said until we can hire a replacement, that we’re all just gonna have to ‘do our best for the team’.”

You roll your eyes and grumble, “Like he even does anything more than clock in.”

Leon grabs your other foot and traces along the arch, “I can go talk to’em if you need me to.”

Your smile spreads across your face, “You really would, wouldn’t you? You’re so sweet, Leon.”

His blue eyes drag up from your legs and skimpy sleep shorts, across your body with the nearly sheer top, to look up into your face, “You need someone to take care of you from the sounds of it.”

You gasp out loud at that and Leon wraps his hands around your calves, yanking you down the couch til your ass lands in his lap. 

“Hoping I would notice your slutty little getup, honey?” his smoky voice murmurs in your ear, snapping the band of your shorts, “trying to show me what I’m missing out on, huh?”

Your head spins from the complete 180 Leon is pulling, but you feel a thrill run down your spine.

“Just wanted to feel pretty,” you say, feeling hot all over, hands plucking at the hem of his shirt. 

“So pretty, baby,” he affirms, hands running up your calves to your splayed thighs, thumbs softy grazing your skin. 

His hands slide from your thighs, up your hips to pet at your sides. 

“Heard you get off earlier too, honey,” he whispers hotly in your ear, “walls are thinner than you think.”

You lean back to look him in the eye, “B-but how? I thought you were in the shower.”

He grins at you, “I forgot something so I stepped out to grab it. Not like it’s the first time hearing you anyway.”

Embarrassment makes you squirm on his lap, ducking your head down, “I didn’t know.”

“Sure, baby,” he kisses your jaw, fingers dipping below the band of your shorts and panties, fingers finding your leaking hole and slowly sinking into your pussy. 

“Leon!” You cry out, spine arching until your chest is pressed against him. 

“How d’you think I don’t hear you?” He rumbles, making your nipples stiffen in your shirt, “stuffing your fingers in that needy fucking cunt night after night.”

You gasp, hips rocking down into his fingers, pussy clenching around the digits. 

“M sorry,” you hiccup, eyes watering, “I’ll do better.”

“Yeah you will,” he rubs his thumb across your swollen clit, “cause I’m gonna start giving this little pussy what she needs, whenever and wherever I want. Sound good?”

“Leon,” you whimper, hands grabbing at his forearms, tendons flexing as he keeps finger fucking you on the couch. 

“Seems like every night, I’m in my room stripping my cock raw from those hot breathy moans you make,” he murmurs in your ear, low and smoky, “wore my fleshlight out the first month you moved in, baby.”

Your eyes rolls back as slick leaks from your pussy all over his hand. 

“Like that huh,” he laughs, tongue dipping in your ear before he places a wet kiss on the shell, “s’true, never made such a mess til you moved in, always fucking into that fake pussy thinking of yours.”

You moan high in your throat, “Leon, please, want you so much.”

“Yeah? Y’sure? Don’t want me using my toy, want me in this needy cunt?”

“Yes, yes,” you grind your hips down harder, his fingers stretching your hole open, “want it so bad.”

You whine and tug at his wrist til he finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy.

“Gonna give it to you sweetheart,” he promises you, eyes heated and dark, “gonna fuck you open right here, and then I’m gonna bend you over that kitchen counter and eat your pretty pussy til you cry for me.”

“Leon!” You gasp wantonly, “in me please. Wanna feel you.”

He pulls out his hard cock, smacking the head against your clit, making your hips jump. 

“Sit on me, want you to ride me baby,” he grins, guiding his dick into your drippy hole but not pressing in any further. 

You whimper and rock your hips, easing down his thick cock inch by inch until you’re sitting flush against him. He’s so deep in your pussy, it feels like he’s in your throat. You moan as he grinds up into you, fingers pinching and tugging at your hard nipples. 

“Mmm just like that baby, feel so much better than that plastic pussy,” he groans, twisting your nipples until you’re whining, “god, love the sounds you make.”

Pulling his hands away, he slaps across your breasts making your back arch your chest towards him. 

“Leon,” you mewl, tears slipping from your eyes because of the sting.

“I know,” he soothes, slapping across your tits again, “feels good doesn’t it, baby?”

You dig your nails into his big biceps, bouncing down in his lap to stuff his cock repeatedly into your hole. 

He slaps across each hard nipple until they’re puffy and swollen. You moan and hump down on him harder, the pain bleeding into pleasure and making you even wetter. One hand dips between your bodies to softly rub across your clit; he drags his fingers lower to stroke your pussy lips, getting his fingertips wet and dragging them back up to circle around your swollen bud. 

“Greedy little thing aren’t ya, honey?” he laughs deep in his chest, “c’mon ride me a little harder, baby.”

He moves both of his hands down to grab the fat of your ass and fuck up harder into your clenching pussy. 

“Leon,” you moan, fingers digging into the tense muscles on his shoulders, “gonna cum.”

“Already?” he scoffs, “pretty easy cunt ya got here then, sweetheart.”

You cry out, the sound of skin slapping and your pussy squelching from his rapid thrusts are so loud in the small living room, making your walls flutter and clamp down on his pistoning cock. 

“Wanna cum,” you sloppily kiss down Leon’s jaw to his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin, “want you to cum with me.”

Leon groans, sounding pained, “Sure, honey. Where do you want it?”

“My mouth,” you pant out quickly, “cum in my mouth, please.”

“Fuck,” he laughs choppily, “okay then sweetheart. I’ll cream your little throat.”

You whine and rock your hips down faster, “Yes, yes, Leon, so good.”

One hand moves to your hip to help you keep up a quick rhythm and the other goes back to rubbing and flicking your sensitive clit. 

“C’mon, honey, cum on my cock so I can fill that pretty mouth,” he smirks and shakes the hair out of his face, “you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me.”

Leon bottoms out in your pussy and just grinds against your g-spot as he teases and pinches your clit; your thighs lock up as your orgasm washes over you, pussy clamping down and milking his cock, clit throbbing under his thumb as he keeps up the slow steady circles on the sensitive nerves. 

“Good girl, good girl just for me,” he noses your hairline, feeling your body shake as he overstims your clit, “get in the floor, honey, ‘m ready for you to swallow this load.”

You moan and arch up, begrudgingly pulling yourself off of his dick so you can kneel between his thighs on the floor. 

“Want it, Leon,” your glazed eyes peer up at him, watching as he fists his cock in front of your mouth. 

“Oh you’re gonna get it, baby,” he grunts, “open that fucking mouth.”

You part you lips and loll your tongue out, whining when you feel hot spurts of jizz land on your tongue and lips. 

“Fuck that’s it,” he groans, watching you with sea dark eyes, hand slowly stroking his dick, feeding each spurt of cum into your open, eager mouth. 

You moan, the sound garbled from the cum pooling on your tongue and sliding down your throat. 

With one last groan, he lets go of his twitching cock. You watch as it droops, a drop of cum beading on the fat tip making you duck froward to lap at the head. 

“Baby,” he hisses, “a little early for me to go again,” he laughs and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip. 

Your tongue darts out to lap at his thumb, “S’good though?”

“The best, sweetheart,” he leans down to pull you up in his lap, “can’t wait to taste you later.”

You sigh, eyes drooping in pleasure. Guess that pajama set really did work out in your favor. 

#roommate!leon s kennedy #they were roommates #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut

[kestisvrse]

proximity, part 9

luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader smau & irl

🩹

series | prev | next

specific cw: blood, injury detail

———————————————————

———————————————————

the infirmary hadn’t been this busy in years.

luckily it cleared out fairly quickly with most injuries being kids getting cut from trees or falling on their knees, quick and easy to patch up.

some were more severe than others, actual cuts from swords on accident, the no maiming rule had apparently been ignored this game.

the worst one was at the end of the game, the conch echoed throughout camp. only one bed in the infirmary remained empty, others being taken up by people currently being stitched up or ones resting.

the front doors burst open, causing you to whip your head around being the only one not currently working. chris led in luke castellan hanging on his shoulder.

his helmet had been discarded, revealing a cut on his cheek and his left side covered in dirt. your eyes trailed down to his hand that clutched his right side, his orange camp shirt seeping with blood.

“oh my gods?!” you exclaimed, running forward to help chris lead the weaker boy to the empty bed. he groaned as he sat down, applying pressure onto his wound as you pulled on gloves, “what happened?”

“some ares kid i forget his name.” chris said, hand on luke’s shoulder, “luke grabbed the flag and he didn’t like the idea of losing.”

you narrow your eyes at chris, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “i’ll take it from here chris, go clean up.”

you sat back in your chair sighing, luke stared at you with a smirk. his bloodied shirt had been discarded to the floor, his stomach stained red with blotchy spots around the stitches you had just finished. exhausted from the day and the worry about luke you plopped in the seat across from him after cleaning up.

“worried about me?” he questioned, a tight lipped smile on his face, trying to act innocent.

“yeah actually, i was.” you said plainly, staring daggers at him, “we both know you are smarter than that, how did you let him get a hit?”

he shrugs, fiddling with the pockets of his cargo shorts, “slipped up i guess.”

you don’t respond in any way, not a subtle body movement, just staring at him.

“i’m fine. you stitched me up.” he said, to which you nodded.

“doesn’t change how terrified i was when you first walked in, luke.” you whispered, he leaned forward as if he had trouble hearing you which he almost did. you stood up to pace the room, interrupted by his rough hand gripping yours, dragging you to stand in between his legs, hand hovering over your waist, scared to touch you.

“i care about you. there i said it, happy?” you admitted, staring down at his brown eyes. a blush appeared on his cheeks as a lopsided smile appeared on his lips.

“that’s all i wanted to hear.” he responded, not taking his eyes off you, “how about a kiss to make me feel better.”

“it would be evil of me to say no, wouldn’t it?”

“yeah actually, i got stabbed i think you have to.” he muttered, placing a finger to his chin like he was thinking, you shook your head biting your lip to hide a grin (it didn’t work.), but he didn’t have time to process your facial expressions when you finally connected your lips to his.

it felt like something he had been waiting years to do, his stomach bursting with a fluttery feeling that made him feel anxious, but it didn’t stop him from kissing back.

his lips were rough, having bit them to distract himself from the pain earlier, while yours felt like you had just put on chapstick, cherry to be specific.

which you had.

he almost pulled you on top of him had a scream not interrupted you, both pulling apart to stare at the door.

clarisse, chris and silena stood there, jaws basically touching the ground as their eyes popped out of their heads.

———————————————————

tags ⋆ @rosieandthethorns @luvvfromme @pleasingregulus @taelattecookie @csifandom @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @annybah @fxiryeon @yourgirl-mila @harrysnovia @jacqulinm05 @balletfilmss @candylandy8173 @aheheb @ohheyitsrowan @eubybubble @kidkrowk @coconut-dreamz @mehrmonga @auras-moonstone @notacluelessblonde00 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @pipravi4life @witch-demon @gitchagitchyayadada @amortencjja @svnny-days @yuminako @ily-promise @beedeebee @ahh-chickens @ssparksflyy @remussbitch @cherryynovaa @bibblesdiscordkitten @m00ng4z3r @awezomezauce @happy-mushrooms @mxtokko @idli-dosa

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo smau #sienna’s fics #luke castellan smau #luke castellan x you #luke castellan au #pjo #pjo x reader #smau

[no-damsel]

Just friends

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter two

Becoming impatient, you bounce your knee while waiting for Voight to arrive. Adam called his boss after you finished breakfast and briefly explained the situation. Voight agreed right away and was currently driving over with Antonio.

“Nice place you’ve got here.”

Adam lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh yeah, the dirty dishes and mountain of laundry really add to the decor.”

Feeling restless, you stand up and walk around his living room. Adam suggested you meet at his apartment; that way, if anyone saw you with him, you could easily play it off as a hookup. You smile at the picture pinned to his fridge of him and a brunette woman posing. “She has a beautiful smile; who is she?”

“That’s my girl, Kim.”

“Where did you guys meet?”

Adam nervously scratches at his beard and says, “Work. She's a cop in my district.”

Laughing, you toss the dish towel hanging beside you at him. “I thought you’d know better than to get involved with someone you work with.”

“Yeah, yeah. How’s your dad and Eli doing?”

You gulp down a mouthful of cold water before pulling at the label covering the bottle. “Eli’s fine—great, actually—and my dad's just the same. Having a kid in the house again is good for him.”

Adam gives you a sympathetic look but doesn’t ask any more questions. You make small talk until Adam gets a text. “That’s them here," he says as he walks towards his door, ready to open it, saying, “Just remember not to be nervous. Hank and Antonio can be a little intense and dark at times, but they are good guys, and if you want, I can do most of the talking for you.”

You struggled to hold back a laugh. Adam was being so sweet and protective, and yet he was in for a surprise. Antonio walks in and gives you a polite nod before greeting his colleague. Hank walks in with a serious expression on his face that softens the moment his eyes land on you.

Adam clears his throat. “Boss, this is—”

“Detective Love,” Hank pulls you in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, kid.”

“You too, Hank; it’s been a while.”

“Don’t drink anything the brunette waitress called Beck gives you; it’s spiked. All the rooms have hidden cameras. Be safe.” Antonio holds the note you placed in the uniforms between his fingers, “so there’s no safe space to talk inside? What about the staff changing rooms or bathrooms?”

“All bathrooms have cameras facing the sinks, and there are hearing devices in the changing rooms.”

Hank nods. “Before we go any further with this, we all agree that nothing that’s said leaves this room.”

All three of you nod.

“Now that’s sorted, Viola, tell me how you got into a club owned by Hector Vasquez; last I heard you were a detective in robbery-homicide.”

“I volunteered when I heard Nat Dickson was back in town.”

“I’m guessing since you’ve been undercover for a while, Nat’s still out there.”

Rage boils deep within your veins; “bastards have been keeping a low profile.”

“Who’s Nat Dickson? I don’t think I’ve heard that name before,” Antonio says.

“He’s wanted for human trafficking in New York. Viola, you should have come to me when you heard he was back in Chicago.”

“You were in prison.”

“Fair enough, but I’m here now.” He turns to face Adam and Antonio and says, “Nat Dickson is scum and extremely dangerous. Trust me, if you’re ever in a run-in with him, do your best to shoot and ask questions later.”

“Nat is part owner of the club, but his share is under a fake name, Lewis Archer. Jasper gives him a large amount of cash along with a bag of guns once a month, but the date, time, and location are always different.”

Adam’s eyes widened with interest as he looked through some paperwork: “The club is full of drugs and has been busted twice in the last month, but only one arrest has been made, and that was for public intoxication.”

“Jasper’s got eyes on the inside.”

Anger flashes behind Antonio’s eyes. “You're telling us a dirty cop is ripping him off for police raids?”

“Dirty as they come,” you say, clicking your tongue. “But I’ve no idea who or how many cops are mixed up in this.”

“Is Nat still selling girls?

You chew on your bottom lip as Hank drives you back to the other side of town, where your car is parked. “If he is, he’s doing it in another location.”

“Tell me about this Beck who spikes people’s drinks.”

“Every so often she spikes men with sleeping pills, takes them into a back room with the promise of having sex, and robs them. She takes everything, from wallets to wedding rings. I’ve tried reporting her anonymously twice before, and each time it’s bounced.”

“Sounds like there’s more than one dirty cop involved. I’m going to have Ruzek stay on the bad-dope trail while you continue gathering evidence of Beck drugging and robbing men; I have a feeling they are contacted.”

“And Dawson?”

Hank turns a sharp corner, the tension in his shoulders obvious. “I want you to stay close to Antonio. Don’t get me wrong, Adam’s a good cop, but Antonio has been deep undercover before, so he knows what it’s like. Plus, he’ll watch your back without getting emotional.”

“I understand and thank you.”

“It’s what my team does; we watch out for each other.” He lets out a small chuckle and says, “I also have an ulterior motive.”

“What’s that?”

“Once this case is closed, I want you in intelligence.”

#antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson x you #chicago pd fandom #chicago pd x reader #Chicago PD #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #antonio dawson #adam ruzek #hank voight #antonio dawson fanfiction

[jjaylove27]

True Love

Part Four

Y/N POV

I've been at Story Brook for a couple of weeks now. Still no signs of any pages from the book. Emma and Killian are still very much in love and happy. But any time I come around she seems stand offish. I hope I didn't do anything to make her mad or upset. I want my husband back but I don't want to lose a friend in the process. We have all been hanging out and trying to figure out what we could do to get the pages back. Killian and I haven't had anymore alone time. I'm currently on the dock going to the next boat to check the innovatory.

"Hey Y/N!"

I turned around to see Emma I smiled at her and waved.

"Hey, Emma what's up?"

"After you get off of work can you swing by the apartment so we can talk?"

"Yeah that's fine. I get off in 30 minutes so I'll see you in an hour?"

"That works."

Then she walked away. I wonder what she has to talk to me about? Maybe its about another plan to try and get the papers back from Gold? I just keep my head down and finish up the last bit of work. I clock out and and went to Granny's and changed my clothes. I finally went to the store and bought some new clothes. I got some leather pants and some flowy tops. Just because I'm in Story Brook doesn't mean I'm completely changing the way I dress.

I finished getting changed and started walking to Emma's apartment. I arrived and knocked on the door. I waited for Emma to open the door and once she did she nodded her head to come in.

"So Emma what did you need to talk about?"

"You remember when we went and looked for pages at Golds?"

I nodded my head.

"Well I actually found two pages. I didn't say anything because what I seen shocked me. I knew Hook worked with your dad but I thought that was all. Well what I found was a picture of you two kissing."

She what? She didn't say anything? Why would she not say anything.

"Why would you hide this?"

"I didn't know what to think. I just got Hook back and I'm scared of losing him."

"Emma he deserves to know about our past. I don't want to show up and demand him to come back to me. That's his choice, not yours!"

"Wait I thought you didn't remember anything?"

"That was a lie. I couldn't come out and say we are married here's your ring. You gave it to me before you went into town so no one stole it. Then you never came back. I wanted him to see and read the pages!"

I just shock my head and walked out. I can't believe this. I just kept walking not looking where I was walking. I ended up running into a hard wall and stumbling back wards. I look up to see Killian.

"You okay luv? You look really lost?"

"I have a question if your significant other lost their memory and someone took your photos to show them. Then the person that your significant other is seeing finds photos of them is it okay to hide that?"

"Woah that is a lot to take in. Sounds very personal. No its not okay to hide the photos. But if they didn't know about it then they probably freaked out. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. I'm going home."

I started walking about to the Jolly Roger without thinking.

"Umm Sparrow Granny's is the other way."

"Huh? Yeah I know where Granny's? I'm going back to the Jolly Roger? You know home?"

"Umm Jolly Roger is my home. I know you was like a little sister but I don't think you ever lived on the Jolly Roger. Are you okay?"

Emma's got my mind swirling that I completely lost my mind. Now I have to save this.

"I'm sorry there is a lot going on in my head and the water is my home and since the Black Pearl isn't hear I guess the next best thing was the Jolly Roger."

"I get it. Why don't you come back and take a nap?"

"That sounds nice. I really appreciate."

We walked in silence to the Jolly Roger. We finally reached it and without thinking I just walked up the plank and into the captain's quarters laid down and fell asleep.

I woke up not to long after I fell asleep. I need to go talk to Gold this could get out of hands quickly if I don't get the pages and talk to Killian. So I stood up and walked on deck. I didn't see Killian anywhere so I just started walking to Gold's. I finally reached it and just walked in. He was standing at the front counter.

"Well hello dearie what can I help you with?"

"I don't know why you took Killian's memory's. But please either give them back or give me the pages."

He laughed at me. "I took his memory's because he took my wife. If I can't have a happy life why should he? I'll give you the pages but only cause I don't think it'll help you. After all you're just a little sister to him anyways."

Then poof the papers was in my hands. I nodded my head and left. That felt to easy for Gold. I flipped thought the pages and the pages was are love story so he didn't change it. Now to get the other to pages from Emma.

HOOK POV

After Y/N went to sleep I decide to go see Emma to see if she knows what's up. Hopefully I'll be back before Y/N wakes up. I knock on the apartment door and Emma opens it. I give her a kiss on the cheek before walking in.

"So I ran into Y/N and she sounded like she had a lot going on. Do you know what happened?"

"I do but it's not my place to tell you. You have to find out from her. Here give these to her and tell her I'm sorry."

She hands me some folded up papers. I take them and walk out. I'm walking back to the ship when I see Y/N coming out of Golds looking at some papers.

"Hey Y/N."

She turns around and looks at me and smiles.

"Hey Kill what are you up to?"

"Well I actually just got done seeing Emma and she said to give you these papers and to say she's sorry."

She takes the papers from me and looks at them and gets the biggest smiles.

"Can we go back to the ship and talk?"

#Killian Jones X reader #Killian Jones images #Emma Swan #Once Upon a Time #Evil Queen #Emma x Killian #Hook

[vicsy]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @pitconfirm and @boxboxbrioche. Thank you <3

1. How many works do you have on ao3

Currently I have 20 posted works (and 1 on anon, we don't talk about it)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

198,413 - not that many!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Formula 1. I used to write for wrestling fandom, too.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

green light, red wine (and i don't feel fine) – 571 kudos, Fernando/Lance (ongoing).

wish you away in my dreams – 412 kudos, Daniel/Max.

shatter my life apart (see me for somebody else) – 334 kudos, Fernando/Lance.

your smile, so bright (i want to save that light) – 294 kudos, Daniel/Max.

guess my future and map it onto your fantasy – 290 kudos, Fernando/Lance.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond to EVERY comment I receive. It is very important to me because I really value people choosing to spend some time to write a comment that will definitely brighten my mood and inspire me. I have to thank them and that's out of question.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh, I'd say it would be my piarles magical realism au fic – bless my darkness; bless my light. I think it's more of an open ending but I intend to expand on that fic one day, so it makes more sense and what I have in mind for it is very sad (but it gets better).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhhh. I feel like most of my fics read as "happy for now" or maybe it's just my perception. If I had to choose, then evocatio and aforementioned your smile, so bright (i want to save that light).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, never. Hope it stays this way.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! All kind?? I am not sure how to answer ahaha but tbh I tend to write the smut that "fits" my personal view. It is easy to fall into the "everyone reads fics with smut more than without smut" hole but I won't force something just to be more appealing.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not a big fan of crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No. If somebody steals my fic, better run.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, back in wrestling fandom. I also translated some of the fics I read and wrote (also for wrestling fandom).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, with @boxboxbrioche! We have something else cooking together but our existing baby is, in my very humble opinion, fucking amazing – sink your teeth, Fernando/Lance vampire au with a twist.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Oh, tough one. I'd say, as of today, Strollonso and Maxiel.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have some fics marinating in my gdocs that I came up with a long time ago and some things have changed since then. Like a major werewolf au, vampire piarles fic and an a/b/o fic that will get me in fandom jail if I ever get it done (it's very ambitious).

16. What are your writing strengths?

This feels like bragging lmao... I write action well. And introspection, character study. Metaphors are my best friends and boy or boy do I love to use them. I want to say... the plot in general? I feel like that and pace in general is something I can write well. I rely a lot on "mic drops" and always make sure they hit the spot.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I OVEREXPLAIN EVERYTHING. THIS WON'T GIVE ME PEACE. and also dialogues. I do not know how humans communicate apparently. Smut isn't my biggest forte and it always feels like a convoluted strategy I need to play out.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't mind it. I sneak a couple of phrases or words of endearment for characters whose primary language isn't english. It's always tricky to write someone who isn't a native english speaker solely in english. You kinda walk the fine line between keeping it as close as possible to the way the character speaks in real life and how you would interpret them speaking in english.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

God......... anime fandom when I was 12.... bye.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Well, I gotta give it to my first love – green light, red wine (and i don't feel fine). Beloved mafia au <3 it brings me joy.

this was fun! I'm gonna tag @mysticalbreadcollective @leclercenjoyer @flawlessassholes @wolfiemcwolferson @lil-shiro @pinkierre <3

#tag game #vicsy writes #thank youuuuu this was actually fun to write out

[cts-ryu-writing-desk]

It Happens Tonight

A big departure from what I usually do. But I’ve had an idea and I kinda wanted to get it out of my system. I am currently working on a few new story ideas and finishing up a commission (Hopefully). Lately I’ve been wanting to do things out of my usual wheelhouse and explore some new/interesting areas for Pregnancy stories. Hope You Enjoy this one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a regular night at the bar. Just a few of the regulars around, talking and ordering drinks. Everyone knew the short guy at the bar. His black hair, and deep blue eyes, would bring in interested men. Tonight there were two strong-looking young men. With well-toned bodies, they were surely sculpting into the peak of their physicality. The two did a terrible job of trying to whisper, more or less talking right behind the short guy at the bar.

“He looked like he’ll be a good bottom,”

“Yeah look at his ass, bet it’s all tight”

The short guy smiled before turning around to face them. “My name’s Terry, and I’m not a bottom by the way.”

“Oh shit” one shot out

“I’m Drake,” he said, pointing to himself. He had bland brown hair and brown eyes. “This is Will,” pointing to the blonde hair and green-eyed guy standing next to him.

Terry smiled, “I see,”

Drake and Will were kinda standing there awkwardly. Before Terry asked the important questions. “Either of you bottoms? Or are you looking to score a hot piece of ass?”

“Oh tops,” Drake pointed to each other

“Yup complete tops,” Will testified

“Hmm” Terry let out thinking for a moment. “Well, how about the three of us head back to my place? I got a bottom waiting for, uh.” He looked the two over quickly “Good dick,”

Drake was into it. Will had other questions. But Terry kept it quick as he paid for his drink and headed out, saying goodbye to a few of the regulars. Drake and Will shared a car and followed Terry. He pulled over outside of an average apartment complex. Together the three of them oiled into the elevator and rode it up to the sixth floor. Terry explained, that the bottom he had waiting in his apartment was “being a good sub and waiting for me to come home”

“Oh, you into some freaky shit?” Will asked

“I guess. I let him off a little easy for tonight. He’s been very good this week”

“Whoa, that sounds like some BDSM shit!” Drake said

Ding. The elevator opened up, “I guess you could say that if you wanted,”

The three of them got over to the door. 6C, Terry unlocked and opened the door, Drake and Will walked in through the hallway and came turned over into what would be his living room. What they saw next was unexpected of them. A scene of bondage. A tall well-toned muscled man with a big round protruding belly, with various writing, scribbled onto him. The muscle sub had a mask covering his eyes and a ball gag. Drake and Will looked at each other speechless. Terry walked past the two of them. And went over to his bound sub. He undid the ballgag, lovingly caressing his chin. 

“Was my baby maker good,” Terry asked with an authoritative tone

“Ah,” the muscle sub, let out in a huffing. “M… Master… ah”

“Shhh,” He let out softly

Terry looked his sub up and down quickly. He could tell his sub was in a sweat. His arms bound over his head. He was breathing heavily. And not a trace of semen to be seen. His muscle winced a little “Ah” escaping his mouth.

“Speak,” Terry said

“I think they’re coming,” his sub said

Drake and Will saw as Terry put his hand on his muscle subs belly. They didn’t know what to say about this situation.

“Did you pop yet?” Terry asked with a serious tone

His sub shook his head slightly “No master,”

Terry pulled away the eye cover, His subs eyes opened slightly to show off his brilliant green eyes. Terry let his arms down next. Drake and Will got a better look at the muscle sub as he got up being led over to the bed off to the corner of the room. Part of his belly had the words “Breeding bitch, giant sub, walking cum tank” were a few things Drake noticed as he walked over to the bed. 

“My sub, Connor,” Terry said looking over at Drake and Will, taking notice that Drake was already at half-mast from just the sight. “You asked me about a good time. And I promise he’ll do a good job of that.” He looked at Connor, his arms still bound “Won’t you?”

“Yes master,” He laid on his side and presented his ass with several tally marks both faded and somewhat fresh “I need more cocks”

Drake and Will looked over at Terry. He smiled, gesturing the two of them to come closer. Will was about ready to leave. Drake rushed right over pants falling down to his ankles real quick. Beating his cock as he eagerly lined up with Connor's ass. Pressing his head and sliding in with ease. Connor moaned in excitement. Drake was overwhelmed between the warmth and grasp Connor’s ass had still. “Fuck” Drake exclaimed

“His cock is so good master.” Connor whimpers in ecstasy.

“Don’t pull out, he can’t get any more pregnant than he already is”

“He’s pregnant!?” Will exclaimed

“OH fuck yeah!” Drake shouted as he started to pick up the pace.

Making Connor moan, His body tightened up. Driving Drake wild and making him want to thrust more.

Terry looked at Will, “Yeah he is. Problem?”

Will didn’t respond. Drake was going at it. He wanted to bury his cock as deep as he could in his pregnant bottom. “Oh fuck, this is so hot”

“AH! Cum in me!” Connor moaned

Drake didn’t last much longer. Quickly hitting his climax. Ass cheeks tightened giving the hint to Terry that he blew his load. Pulling out a leaving a little trail seeping out of Connor’s freshly bred hole. “And you say?” he said, picking up a marker from the nightstand next to the front of the bed.

“Thank you,” Connor said with a moan

“Good boy,” Terry said, adding another tally mark to Connor’s ass.

“Oh fuck that was hot,” Drake said trying to catch his breath

Will was getting overwhelmed.

“Dude you gotta try this” Drake said looking at Will

“Dude what the fuck!” Will said “Dude’s preggo!”

“Dude it's fucking intense in there!” Drake said with cheerful enthusiasm.

“Plus that tent says otherwise”

Will covered himself in embarrassment.

Connor tensed up again. “Mmmmm!” Connor murmured. It lasted for a for minutes and then faded. “Ahhh..” Connor felt light-headed “Master…” he whimpered

“I know my little sub,” he pulled out his cock, Last one and then we can go”

Connor whimpered and nodded “Yes master”

Terry went over to Connor and lined up his cock with Connor's ass. Terry’s cock slid right in using Drake's fresh load as lube. Connor was trembling. He loved the feeling of his master's cock inside of him. Terry grabbed Connor's cock. Making him scream out in pleasure. Connor was so hard. The simplest touch was sending tremors through Connor’s body. “Master, please! It’s too much!” 

“I give you permission to cum” he said, starting to stroke Connor’s cock with great force and speed. As his body tensed up, as his body tensed the baby inside of him stretched and writhed inside of him. “AH!” Connor let out

It wasn’t long before Connor was spraying thick ropes of cum, firing it far enough to go near his bump. Connor tensed up again. It was painful. He tried to keep from screaming. Terry pulled out. Looking at his watch. He sighed in frustration, “Fuck,” he went over to his pants.

He pulled out his phone. He was calling a number. He was making a call. “Yes, hello. It’s me Connors about to pop. Yeah. Contractions are lasting a while. The last one was two minutes apart.” He nodded to the voice on the other side. “Alright let yourself in”

Terry hung up. “Alright, no more cuffs for you. Time for the kid,” Terry told Connor as he undid the leather cuffs.

“I’m sorry master,” Connor whimpered

“Hush,” Terry said with authority. “That’s enough of that for now. The doctor and midwife will be here soon,”

“Yes, sir,” Connor curled up.

Will saw the dynamic change so quickly. Drake was getting all excited. “Oh shit, he’s gonna pop like right now? Fuck I gotta see this!”

Will turned away quickly, and started heading for the door. He insisted to himself he stayed long enough. As he burst out the door. He heard Connor let out a scream. He couldn’t hold it back. Passing by a middle-aged woman, and an elderly man carrying a bag into Terry’s condo. Will hurried and left the building.

Meanwhile inside the condo. Terry quickly alerted his new guests. “Last one was a little shorter than two minutes.”

“Okay this is happening,” the middle-aged woman said. 

The old man pulled out a stethoscope. Hurried over to listen to the baby inside Connor. A little bit. “Steady heartbeat.” Both he and Terry looked at their watch. Again just a little before two minutes, another contraction. This one is stronger than the last. Drake stayed off in the corner getting a good view. Rubbing his cock. Bringing no attention to himself. “One to Ten?” the old man asked

“Six… maybe seven.” 

“Hmm” left the old man’s mouth. 

The middle-aged woman came over, “come on daddy,” she helped Connor get up. “Let’s see if we can fill the tub.”

“Terry filled it halfway,” Connor said, struggling to try to shuffle to the bathroom.

“Good, we can add some more and make sure it's nice and warm for you two.” Thanks

“And the marker?” She asked

“Non-toxic.” he winced “I have a.”

“I set up a wash station for him.” Terry shouted, “We didn’t expect it to be this early.”

“It’s been going on all day?” the old man asked

“He thought it was Braxton hicks.” Terry said, “I should’ve called it off”

“Oh, you young people and your ‘fun’” the old man said with exaggeration on the word fun.

Terry looked over to Drake, who was stroking his cock. He was hard again. Terry got close to him. “You can stay, but if you’re going to jerk off, stay out of the bathroom.”

“Okay cool,” Drake said, continuing to jerk off.

As the tub filled up with warm water. The middle-aged woman helped to wash off all the graffiti from his body. Paying no mind to what it all said. Through contraction after contraction, getting closer and closer. Terry is doing his best to support Connor despite his size over him. An hour had passed. With Connor’s contractions now mere seconds apart from one another. He was in the tub on his knees. Pushing himself to stay strong through them. Admitting the contractions felt like a ten - on the old man’s crude pain scale.

Terry had his arms wrapped around Connor from behind. He was going to hold onto his laboring submissive. Simple groans of pain turned into painful screams. The middle-aged woman coaching Connor. “Don’t hold it in. If you feel the need start pushing”

Connor simply nodded. He started to breathe heavily in between each wave of pain that surged through him signaling the baby's arrival. Connor closed his eyes screaming. It was starting. Connor screamed as he tried to push. Breaking away from Terry’s hold, slumping his upper body against the edge of the tub. Terry used his now free hands to check Connor’s progress.

His ass was starting to open. “Babies coming!”

“You’re doing great,” the middle-aged woman said boastfully

“You can do it, Connor. Bring our baby to us”

Connor was having a hard time trying to keep his breath as he felt the urge again. The doctor prepared some towels, thermometers, and other medical exam tools. Connor pushed and pushed. He was crowning. All of them wanted Connor to keep going. Even though Connor wanted to give up already. But he found more strength in him and kept at it. One more big push. And pop. The baby's head came out. The bathroom was in quick delightful cheers. Drake continued to beat his meat. His hand was already covered in a rather thick layer of his semen.

Now wasn’t the time for Connor to stop. He had to keep going. More pushing, and more screaming, with more of the baby being pushed out. “A little more, get past the shoulders and we can get baby out” The middle-aged woman shouted over Connor’s screams

Connor tried to focus his breathing, and take deep breaths. Preparing for one big push. Hopefully his last one. He braced himself and gave a big push. Slowly the baby started to slide out. One shoulder, Connor screamed. Then the other. Terry Grabbed on gently onto the baby, gently pulling as Connor kept pushing. The water surface broke as Terry pulled the baby up to him. Flooding the bathroom with a new sound. The wailing of a newborn baby. Cheers from the old man and the middle-aged woman as they saw the baby cradled in Terry’s arms above the water. 

Connor went limp. Barely able to turn himself over. Seeing Terry holding their baby. Terry had a brief smirk, “He wants you” Terry told Connor.

Connor started to cry tears of joy as he reached out his arms to hold his newborn baby. The ordeal was over.

A month later Will and Drake were talking on the way to the Gym. 

“Dude you should totally get a guy like Morgan. Fuck his ass feels so good with that kid in there.” Drake admitted to him casually

“Dude what the fucks is wrong with you.” Will admitted

“Don’t knock it till you try it, man. It’s fucking hit and intense!” Drake said as the two headed into the gym. 

They saw Terry walking towards the door, with Connor hand in hand. Terry was pushing the stroller, their baby boy asleep and bundled nice and cozy. Drake excitedly greeted them. The two greeted him back. Will still felt uncomfortable with the memory of seeing Connor pregnant and railed just before giving birth. 

Drake started to speak, “Hey do you have any advice, I started dating this preggo guy and he’s like six months along.” 

“Oh congrats to him,” Connor said with a smile

“Enjoy it while it lasts” Terry admitted

“Yeah, I am. We’ve even been talking about another one. You know after.” Drake said

Connor nervously smiled.

“So have we. Connor’s hoping for a girl.” Terry said

“Whoa really?! My boyfriend is having a girl. He’s so excited!”

“That’s wonderful, umm”

“Drake,” Terry replied quickly

“Drake!” Connor said quickly

Will tried to walk away but was met by Terry’s gaze. Of disapproval. The two got close whispering to each other. “You bailed on my sub’s need for dick before he popped.”

“It’s fucking,”

“Weird?” Terry said softly, cutting off Will, “I’m just going to say this once. You owe my sub a good dicking. So I will be expecting you to dick him. Even harder in a few weeks, once he’s ready. So, you had better be as well!”

Terry stepped away smiling “Alright Connor! It’s time we get Evan home before he gets fussy being in the stroller all this time”

“Oh you’re right,” Connor said with an apologetic tone, “We best be heading home, See you both later”

Will stood there in a bit of shock. His hand was shaking. While seeing Connor’s pregnant body being fucked into submission wasn’t doing it for him. He liked the authority and the power Terry emanated at that moment. Despite his physical stature over Terry, the shorter leaner man had power. A way to put Will in his place, and his curiosity wanted him to know more.

#mpreg #male_pregnancy #male pregnancy #pregnant male #pregnant #pregnant story #birth #preggo man #small dom large sub

[at-thestillpoint]

40 questions meme: 11,13 and 37👀

[forty questions!]

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

I don't really think of writing as a passion or a hobby. Rather, it's something I feel compelled to do. (I realize this is incredibly self-aggrandizing phrasing. I don't mean that I feel called to it, but rather that there are questions or scenes or potential worlds I'm moved by and can't get out of my head, except by writing them.) But also, I love words and language and picking apart how we put them together to make people feel things. I enjoy playing in that sandbox—the act of writing—and at the end of the day, I write because it's what I want to do most with my free time (and even more with my not-free time). So I guess, in that sense, it is both.

Though, really, is writing actually fun?

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Deeply paraphrasing here, and others have said this much more eloquently, but simply: You can't edit nothing. None of the other advice matters until you have that first, scrappy draft, so get it down on paper and go from there. (I am not taking this advice very well right now.)

37. Talk about your current wips.

My current WIPs are, unfortunately for all of us, the same WIPs I have been talking about for a good six months, plus a few more! Below the cut because I have SO MANY??? (Send help.)

We have on the TG:M docket:

The other FWB fic (love you like a lover should): The Google doc for this was created in March 2023! It is still nowhere close to being done! This is the story that started as a foray into Rooster/Phoenix and quickly evolved into an exploration of Hangman/Phoenix if Phoenix had an unrequited crush on Rooster but started banging Hangman instead.

The Olympics AU (no rules in breakable heaven): Exactly what it sounds like! And also a past lovers to exes/enemies to angry lovers to second chance romance fic. (How many tropes is too many tropes?) I had a good two-day run with this during NaNo, but then work knocked me on my figurative ass, and I haven't been able to make progress since then. My goal is to finish this before the opening ceremony this summer. This is looking less and less achievable.

The politics AU: This is mostly just vibes right now. It's very roughly outlined, but the words aren't flowing yet. I got the idea futzing around on Pinterest and realizing Glen Powell really does look Like That. I'm also just really compelled by different permutations of ambitious woman/arrogant asshole, and the political world is made for stories like that.

wreck my sundays: I heard Maggie Rogers's new single and needed to write something, because "My friend Sally's getting married / And to me that sounds so scary" resonated a little too hard, while "take my money, wreck my Sundays" wrecked me. This will have a spot of fake dating. I want to keep this in the 6,000-7,000 word range, which is ironically what's keeping me from writing it, because my deep-seated need to provide context and world build is making it too verbose, and that is not a rabbit hole I want to go down.

For other universes, we have:

the truth about dreams: A Sally-focused companion piece to i dreamed you a sin and a lie. For some reason, it's been a lot harder to write this one. (Some reason: Poseidon's POV is much more interior, because it's all speculative. To give Sally's POV justice, I actually need to build the world.) And yes, I did have fun looking up songs with "horse" in the title, because I am hilarious. What serendipity that Horses fits so well.

An untitled coda to The Artful Dodger that explores what would happen if Governor Fox gave Jack a pardon, from the Governor's perspective. Governor Fox's "my wife and daughters think I'm a simpleton, and they're probably right" got to me the same way Daisy Buchanan's "a beautiful little fool" line did. There is something there and it is incredibly compelling!

#come talk to me! #these felt like the hot ones of ask meme questions! #my open tabs are shaming me every day i don't work on these wips

[marvels-bitch-boy]

Emerald Eyes Part 3: Chapter 3

Chapter 3: (Multi POV)

A/N: Oh my god! this one took forever!! this is also the longest Chapter of Emerald Eyes so far! I didn't know how to fully capture the Blackwidow story with Y/N in it as well but I tried my best so far... let me know how you like it!

Word Count: 7k

Master List , P1 Chapter 1 , P2 Chapter 1 , P3 Chapter 2 , P3 Chapter 4

(Yelenas’ POV)

- - -Budapest- - -

Getting settled into the apartment was easy for Yelena as she only had a few items with her. After eating whatever wasn’t fully expired she looked around at the life her sister had while living here. She examined the rooms but not long before a knock at the door brought her into a defensive mode. She waited for a moment hoping the source of the sound would just move on but seconds later another knock followed and she went against her better judgement, slowly moving towards the door she held her gun close behind her back. She greeted the man in front of her with a small smile. “Hello? What can I do for you?” 

The man matched her smile and she had to admit the smile did not meet his eyes, the scars on his face seemed to elevate this and she felt a disconnect from his calm attitude. “I’m here to speak to a Ms Belova. I work with a group that has a business offer… We heard you’re currently unemployed” the smirk that formed on his lips caused Yelenas' skin to stand on edge. She held the gun in full sight “How did you find me?” she said eyeing the man up cautiously.

“We have many resources and finding people is one of them, may I come in to talk…” he held his hands in front of her as to stop her “-you can search me for weapons if needed, I promise I’m unarmed” Allowing the man in she searched him for a moment and then they sat at the dining table. 

“Ms Belova, we are a group called Leviathan and we have an interest in your journey towards healing… I have knowledge of how the red room can operate and I assure you that Leviathan prides itself on providing freedom to all.” he produced a business card and slid it across the table. It only had a number on it that blended into the rest of the card. You had to let the light catch it at an angle to read the number. “We know how to find you, but if you ever need to talk, that is my number…” he paused and looked out the window for a moment “Leviathan helped me heal and gain a new perspective on things from my past, they have a way with words I guess” he shrugged and his smile again didn’t reach his eyes, “think it over and call me if you have questions” he stood up from the table and began to walk away. 

As Yelena turned her head she saw red hair enter the building and quickly stopped him. She pulled him into a room that was hidden from the front hallway and motioned for him to stay quiet. The two of them heard the front door open. Yelena drew her gun and whispered for the man to stay in place. She slowly walked forward while staying hidden “I know you’re out there.” 

“I know you know I’m out here.” When the woman spoke up she heard the sound of the floorboards behind her creak and she saw the man stand on guard with his own gun out. She looked at him with bewilderment. Where the fuck was he hiding tha- oh. Her eyes slightly dip down and if she could speak at this moment she would let out a low and disappointed ‘What the fuck…’. He winks at her and she rolls her eyes and continues on “Then why are you skulking about like it’s a minefield?”

“Cause I don’t know if I can trust you”

- - -

(Y/Ns’ POV)

“Cause I don’t know if I can trust you”

You snickered at her words and waited for a moment as the two continued their conversation. Soon enough the two of them were fighting brutally and after a minute you just stood there and watched. As they were strangling each other you grabbed a bag of chips that were on a counter and waited for the two to finish. As they stood up Natasha caught the sight of you and stared wide-eyed as you gave her the same sly smile and wink as when you last left her. “Hi, Natty…” This time giving her a little wave of hello “Miss me?” She turned to Yelena and clenched her jaw.

“Why the hell is he here??” she said through gritted teeth.

You whistled at her and spoke through the tension “Just doing a little recruiting, we want to help Ms Belova stay safe and move forward” 

She rolled her eyes “Who’s we exactly?” she cocked her brow and scanned her eyes over him.

“That’ll be a need to know, and you of all people don’t need to know” wiping off your hands and handing her one of your cards, “however if you ever decide to kick the captain to the curb…” you lean in close to her ear “or just need a distraction~” 

“Jesus this is disgusting” Yelena pretends to gag which makes you chuckle and for the first time you seem to genuinely smile as you look into Natasha's eyes.

She seems taken aback by this and you catch why and turn away from her, you swore that if you saw her you’d leave immediately but here you were flirting with her? Why the hell would you do this? The last time you saw her you betrayed her and left her in the dust. There is no way that this woman would get you to fall back into her, you had to leave as soon as possible. “Well, I’d love to stay…” you looked into her eyes and seemed to be hypnotized “but… I was taken away from vacation for this, Yelena call if you ever consider…” you again begin to leave and project your words “we’d love to help you heal” with that you leave them alone and head to a nearby cafe. 

As you walk down the street with a sandwich in hand along the water you hear the sounds of people screaming and quickly see a motorcycle make its way through the air and see a streak of red hair come crashing down in front of you. You rush to help the woman and within seconds you are dodging bullets and she loads you into a nearby car. You look up and see Yelena in the passenger seat while Natasha is the one driving. “You really did miss me, huh” within seconds the car is hit with bullets and you quickly yell at Yelena to open her door. She looks at you like you’re an idiot but you just yell at her to do it. 

She complies and the door is quickly taken off the car by a post and you watch for a moment as it hits whoever is currently chasing the two. 

“Will someone please tell me what's going on?!” 

Yelena looks over towards her sister unamused “Is he always like this?”. You give her an offended look.

“Yes”

“No” 

The two of you speak at practically the same time and you speak through gritted teeth “Actually Natasha doesn’t know me anymore, doesn’t know a single thing about me” There flash of pain that you see in her eyes through the rearview mirror that makes you smug. This little moment is interrupted by the sound of what you could only describe as a bulldozer ploughing through the streets, looking back you see a tank at a racing speed mowing its way through cars and you begin to yell at the woman to drive faster. 

“GO GO GO GOOOOGOOOGOOOOOOOO” the two are currently bickering as you notice the figure tha pops out of the tank is aiming at your vehicle. “...fuck” You see something fly towards you and you huddle into a ball to shield yourself from the impact but what you didn’t know was that the figure was aiming for the bottom of the car. You feel the blast and your car is catapulted and begins to flip on itself. After sliding down a set of stairs you brake the door open and wriggle out. Natasha helps Yelena out and seems to have a plan of her own which stops her from caring for the wound that Yelena is currently sporting. You begin to feel something drip from your forehead and your eye is clouded in red very quickly. You notice Natasha ushering you and Yelena into an air vent and as soon as you get in you feel yourself fading from consciousness. 

- - -

(Natashas’ POV)

As Natasha waits inside the vent with the two she notices the man now unconscious with blood still dripping down his head. She checked around him for any kind of loose fabric but in the end, decided to just rip his shirt into a crop top. As she did this Yelena seemed to chuckle at the way she cared for the man. “What's the history behind you two?” 

She sighed and for a moment she admired the man’s still face, no anger or rage covering it just the way he used to look in her arms at night. “It’s complicated…” she looked away at her sister who only cocked her brow “fine— we were together and it was good, I was happy for once. There was a mission and he didn’t make it back… come to find out he’s alive and blames me and the others for it— nothing from there, I don’t think about him anymore” 

Oh, that's bullshit and she knows it. She’s been trying to track him down for weeks since he tricked her in Berlin. She wanted to find out who was working for and wanted to attempt to reach him, the real version of him she knows is still in there. She thought of him while watching Monty Python a few nights ago. She thought of him while she was grocery shopping. Hell, she thought of him when she was on her way to the apartment. She couldn’t get him out of her head and she was constantly thinking of what she’d say to him and here she is with him unconscious after they only bickered with each other. 

Not only was she bickering with him she was also bickering with someone she once considered her sister. Someone who reached out to her for help. “You okay?” she eyes the makeshift bandage covering her arm. 

“Yeah. Great plan. I love the part where we almost bled to death.” his eyes flickered around the vent “This is cosy.”

“Barton and I spent two days hiding out up here,” she says with memories clinging to the walls of her mind.

“That must have been fun” Yelenas' tone is filled with sarcasm. 

Natasha checks the grate of the vent again to see if their tail from earlier is still following them. “Who the hell is this guy?” 

Yelenas’ eyes flash to the unconscious man in front of her and back up to Natasha “Your boy toy here? Or Skeletor?,” she spoke oozing sarcasm “Dreykov’s special project. He can mimic anyone he’s ever seen. It’s like fighting a mirror. Dreykov only deploys him for top-priority missions.” 

“Well, you should be flattered then” Y/N spoke softly from his spot on the grate. Natasha rolled her eyes at his comment and looked at her sister confused. “This doesn’t make any sense” 

“Well, the truth rarely makes sense when you omit key details.” she cocked her head at her sister and raised one brow. Y/N looked at the redhead “huh… seems like we are a lot more similar than I remember,” he said “what you referring to little widow?” he sat up and held his forehead as he smiled at the blonde.

“she hasn’t said one word about Dreykov’s daughter,” she looked at her “You killed her.” 

Those last words made a smile creep up on Y/Ns face, Natasha saw this and cut his thoughts off. “I had to.” her head lowered “I needed her to lead me to Dreykov.” She began to remember the day in question. Her mind flooded with the memories that plagued her consciousness. She saw the image of a little red backpack making its way inside the building, the face of the little girl at the window, he signal. She knew what she had to do and she hesitated for a moment because she knew that it would stay with her. She knew the child was innocent. She made the call anyway. 

Yelenas’ words broke her out of her mind. “And here you are, not so sure”

“I needed out” 

She looked down at her hands and the man still clutching his head cleared his throat. All eyes glanced at him and he sucked in air through the gaps in his teeth before speaking. 

“What’s the next move? Cuz I think I might need some food so I don’t die” 

- - -

(No one’s POV)

As the two women looked around the small store Y/N stepped out to call his employer. 

“She’s here… but the target is in danger and at risk, I’ll stay to gain trust”

“Excellent idea, Don’t let either one know you are still on the clock -If she finds out I want you to change course…” she continued and Y/N stuck to her words like a fly to glue.

“Yes ma’am, once I’m done I’d like to request a watch duty…” 

“Oh, her again I suppose?” she said with a hint of amusement.

“Yes… we have to make sure nothing happens to put her back on the map, wouldn’t want another agency to get ahold of the weapon” 

He heard her hum in agreement before her final words. The line went dead and he stood in the doorway as Yelena was mimicking her sister's classic pose. “Look at that the little spider knows your pose” he chuckled and caught the glare of the redhead. Natasha was not a current fan of the man and he wasn’t helping his case. 

–

As the three of them sat Natasha finished bandaging up her sister's arm. The man seemed to be struggling against his own head in a battle of wrapping his wound. 

“Here… let me help” 

To his surprise, she looked at him with sympathy and began to gently clean the wound properly and check for any other damage. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, the way she seemed to be inspecting him reminded him of the many times she had to patch him up after missions. He stared at her eyes and for a moment his own face betrayed him and the smallest of smiles fought its way to his lips. His eyes softened as he looked at her. It was most likely due to some kind of brain injury that definitely happened. 

Yeah… that's what was happening. As she backed away from him and took him her handy work she saw the expression he held out of the bottom of her eye. The softness in his face seemed to be a completely different person. The memory of his betrayal in Berlin reentered her mind and she saw him doing the exact same thing to her, pretending that his emotions were real and the chance that what they had was still alive. 

Clearing her throat “there -all patched up” she took her seat back down and a moment of silence fell over the group. The light on Y/N face fell and he stood up.

“I’ll go and grab some food now -don’t leave me here” he sighed 

With that Yelena watched him leave and as soon as he was out of earshot she turned back to her sister. 

“That gas, the counteragent, was synthesized in secret by an older widow from Melina’s generation. I was on the mission to retrieve it, and she exposed me and I killed the widow that freed me.” her eyes fell and it was obvious the guilt that lay behind them. 

“Did you have a choice?” Natasha knew that the answer to this wouldn’t fully change how Yelena felt. 

“What you experienced was psychological conditioning. I’m talking about chemically altering brain functions. They’re two completely different things. You’re fully conscious, but you don’t know which part is you. I’m still not sure.” 

The last words cemented the fear in both of them, Yelena didn’t know if she had the power to control her actions and stop what happened or if she truly allowed it and enjoyed the pain she caused. 

“Is that all there is left?” her sceptical look was focused on the blonde in front of her. 

“Mmm-hmm. It’s the only thing that can stop Dreykov and his network of widows.” she said “: He takes more every day. Children who don’t have anyone to protect them. Just like us when we were small. Maybe one in 20 survives the training and becomes a widow. The rest, he kills. To him, we are just things. Weapons with no face that he can just throw away. Because there is always more. And no one’s even looking for him, thanks to you and Alexei.”  Natasha cocked a brow at the name.

“Alexei?” she said his name with a slight smile

“Dad” the two of them chuckled at the use of the word. 

Yelena switched the conversation to something that stuck in the back of her head since she found out Natasha had defected. Their true parentage. The thing that most of the widows had lingering in their hearts. 

“Well my mom abandoned me in the street like garbage.” her face flashed sour for a second “What about you?”

 “They destroyed my birth certificate,” A small smile appeared on Yelena's face “so I reinvented it. My parents still live in Ohio. My sister moved out west.” 

“Is that right?” The smile seemed to infect Natasha.

“You’re a science teacher. You’re working part-time, though, especially after you and your husband had your son.” she looks through the doorway towards the man with a bandage on his head still attempting to order his food “Your husband seems like a dick -but he’s sweet when it counts… got you a dog for Christmas”  Natashas eyes followed her sisters and she seemed to imagine that life. She knew what Yelena was doing when she described the man. She couldn’t help but think about if that was ever a possibility before A.I.M. 

She tore her eyes away and smiled down at her hands that clamped around her beer bottle. “That's not my story” 

Never will be. She thought to herself.

Her sister laughs at the remark. “What is your story?” her eyes a curiosity to them. 

“Never really let myself be alone long enough to think about it…” that was a lie, she thought about it when she was with Y/N, and she thought about it when she spoke to Clint about her feelings for the man. She thought about it every time she visited the Barton family. 

 Glancing over at the source of joyful laughter “Do you ever wish for kids? I want a dog” 

At that moment the man that accompanied the two of them return to his seat. He carried a few plates and set them down. “I wanted kids…” he looks at them as she chews and takes in their mixed expressions “I realized they’d just be all fucked up like me” His words seemed to spark a conversation in Natasha's head. 

“You weren’t fucked up before…-there was a time when you- you would have been a good dad” she stole some chips from his plate and avoided his curious stare. She could also feel her sister's eyes flickering between the two of them. 

“Set the love of my life on fire so I’d say I was a monster, to begin with… only delayed it” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought over his own words, he knew that the negative words he used to describe himself only allowed them to cement into his brain. It’s what his shrink told him, hell even Valentina told him that. The comfort of them just never left after he spoke them into the world. “You said you wanted a dog?...” he shifted uncomfortably in his seat “Where would you go?” he questioned attempting to shift the conversation. 

“ I don’t know. I don’t really have anywhere to go back to, so I guess anywhere.” There was a look that began to appear on Natasha's face that Yelena could sense “Don’t” 

This made a small chuckle come from the man who just watched the interaction between the two of them. 

- - -

Once the three of them created a small plan they stuffed themselves into a vehicle that was all too easy to steal. Y/N sat in the back and allowed himself to get a moment of sleep as the main in his head began to increase. The longer that the trio drove the more the silence began to annoy Yelena. Finally, she decided to prod at the tension between the other two she witnessed earlier. 

“Do you still love him?”

This caught Natasha off guard as she attempted to keep her concentration on the road. “What? -why would you ask that?” 

Yelena shrugged and looked back at the man to double-check he was asleep before she continued. “You two seem to still have this- I don’t know, energy,” she tilted her head as she looked at her sister as if that would allow her to look into her mind “Do you think he is capable of loving you still?” 

“This new him,” she sighed and saw him in the rearview mirror “-it’s not a person I like… I think the man I loved and cared for is dead…” she took in a deep breath “I mourned him -this -this person he isn’t someone capable of love… he wasn’t a monster but I saw him do things that made him become one.” 

Yelena let her words register in her brain, again she glanced at the man and a look of guilty confusion arose. He stirred in his sleep and seemed to be attempting to move farther into the back seat. His body was steaming and in a matter of seconds, he was back to his normal temperature. 

- - -

(Y/Ns POV)

“This new him,” she sighed  “-it’s not a person I like… I think the man I loved and cared for is dead, I mourned him -this -this person he isn’t someone capable of love… he wasn’t a monster but I saw him do things that made him become one.” 

Her words broke your sleep once again. It had been hours of driving and yet what she had said repeated in your brain. She wasn’t wrong, but to hear another person call you a monster. It made you think. Not about if what you have been doing was wrong but only about how she didn’t see you as a monster before, you knew what others saw in you before. Apparently, she didn’t see how broken you really were on the inside. You hadn’t until you were trapped beneath the rubble, you had only yourself self for the company and you learned to hate yourself and through that hatred, your anger towards the avengers grew. 

She thinks you’re incapable of love, she thinks the man from before is dead… well now he is. Those words were the last thing you thought about before passing out again. “he wasn’t a monster but I saw him do things that made him become one.” 

Laying in the backseat you felt the jolt of the car come to a stop and as he twisted around to see the car was now empty and you were alone. you had flashes for a moment as the car began to shrink in size and you found yourself yet again trapped under the rubble. You closed your eyes and began to hit the rubble around you away. you felt your breathing intensify and it wasn’t until a gust of cool air hit your face and a gentle hand landed in the centre of your chest. Your eyes flew open and looked up to Natasha staring with confusion and concern. You shrugged her hand off your shoulder with vigour. “Don’t say a word” 

You get got out of the car and didn’t say another word to her. Just going straight into the helicopter and saw Yelena playing with the fog of the bottom window. Looking around the helicopter the thoughts that showed up in your mind in the car began to swirl in your brain again. You sat down and held your head between your legs for another moment and began to hit the back of your head. It was as if you were attempting to knock the images out of your head. The footsteps entering the helicopter caught you in the middle of one of the many strikes to your head. Looking up you catch the Emerald Eyes that had always caught your attention. She looked at you and within seconds you stood up and glared at her menacingly. 

“Don’t act like you are concerned about how the “monster” is doing,” you laced your words with venom

She blinked back at his words “And don’t act like you’re okay, I don’t need you risking yourself on this” 

“Please, since I walked away from you I’ve been the best in my entire life… that team -you were a plague to my life, you were like a cancer that was slowly killing me. After this, I don’t plan on ever seeing or thinking of you ever again,” your lip began to curl as your emotions spilt from your words “I’m already dead to you, now you’ll be dead to me” You mere inches away from her face as you stared into her eyes with a deep set rage. Your body began to steam as the cold air hit rushed through the open door. 

Tears threatening to break from Natasha's eyes didn’t change the anger you held. You didn’t feel sympathy for her. You didn’t feel as though she deserved your pity in this moment. Before her words, in the car, you might possibly have restrained yourself but now you knew how she truly thought of you. You had passed the point of no return and now you were circling back for fun. 

- - -

(No One’s POV)

After the spat that the two had Yelena entered the helicopter and could feel the tension that had settled over the two. As they made their way to the prison that contained their “father”. 

Once the commotion that spread through the prison began to make its way outside along with Alexei, Natasha sprang into action to attempt to fight off a path for the burly man to get into the helicopter. As she fought off a swarm of men a blast of ice and fire spewed in all directions. Natasha looked up at the helicopter and saw Y/N struggling to keep a steady stream of fire along with the ice that had been making its way up his arm. She saw him struggling and within moments she saw him fly back into the copter. 

“We’re both doing a really good job!” Yelena holds out a thumbs up to both the man in the back and her sister. 

As fast as he was able to help fend off prison guards and other prisoners they began to swarm her once again. She saw Alexei finally make his way into the copter and after the boom from Yelena's rocket launcher missed… This expedited the rate at which Natasha needed to get back into the helicopter.

As they were all in the copter and making them away from the snow-flooded prison Alexei looks back to his former enclosure and yells out “до свидания, придурки!” (Goodbye, douchebags!) 

He turns to the man in the back and grins “Oh, that was exciting.” this earns him an eye roll as he makes his way between the two women. “Oh, I’m so proud of you girls.” Yelena rolls her eyes as they exchange a look before he continues speaking. “Oh, you can’t hear me, huh?” all he can do once he places the headset over his head is laugh. As he finishes laughing he is hit square in his face by Yelena. “Why the aggression, huh?” he looks at the man in the back with a smile as he continues “What is it her time of the month?” Y/N flips him off with a glare that forces the man to face forward once again. 

“I don’t get my period dipshit.”

“Or get pregnant” 

“Yeah. That’s what happens when the Red Room gives you an untested serum,” she keeps her eyes to the sky in front of her as she speaks “They don’t even care about the lasting effects, just stick it in and hope you don’t die”  

Natasha jumps in once again “… and you just live for years on end.” 

“Theres the pain you get in your neck from the injection, the scar from the injection they did into your uterus-”  she seems to have an epiphany “No bleeding but you get the cramps and no babies ever, might as well just chop it all out” 

“No, no okay, you don’t have to get so critical and nasty.” 

“Oh, well, I was going to talk about how it affects the fallopian tubes, but okay.”

“No,” he  shakes his head and turns to Natasha “It means so much to me that you came back for me.”

“No. No. You’re gonna tell us how to get to the Red Room.” 

A dumbfounded look slaps itself onto Alexei’s face “Huh?” He’s shoved back by Natasha “Whoa, look at you, huh? All business” 

She sits across from him and catches a glance at the man who is holding his arm and attempting to make a bandage with his injured arm… he sticks his tongue out like a toddler concentrating with intensity. “Trust me,” she looks back to the bearded man “this isn’t pleasure” 

“Little Natasha, all indoctrinated into the Western agenda.” 

“I choose to go west,” she caught Y/N in her peripheral “to become an Avenger. ‘Cause they treated me like family”

“Really? Family?” he pretended to look around “well, where are they now? Where is that family now?” 

There's a snicker from the back and only one of the two looks back at it. The other just hangs her head. 

“That, my -smelly friend,” he raises his good hand and smiles proudly “is my doing… that ‘family’ is now in shambles -ain’t that right Romanoff?” 

She doesn’t pay him any attention “Tell me where the Red Room is.”

“I have no idea” a scoff comes from the woman across from him “Okay?” 

She threw her headset off and seemed to rack her brain as she spoke “C’mon, you and Dreykov were like-” 

“Dreykov?”

“Yeah”

“General Dreykov, my friend huh?” he shrugs and avoids her eyes “Gives me glory… Soviet Union’s first and only super soldier. I could have been more famous than Captain America.” he lifts his arms up in victory but it slowly dissipates into disappointment “Then he buries me in Ohio on that stupid mission.” The words rip into Yelena and Natasha

“Three years! So tedious, boring me to tears. No offence, huh? Then puts me in prison for the rest of my life. Why, huh? Why? Why would he put me in… You know why? ‘Cause, maybe I want to talk about the withering of the state. Or maybe I don’t like his hair or something and I say something casually about that. Maybe, you know, I want the Party to feel actually like a party instead of this sourpuss organization. But instead, no. He puts me in prison for the rest of my life. He just runs off and hides, huh? I’m not even the one who, uh, you know…” motioning towards Natasha “I’m not the one who killed his daughter.” 

“Большой!” (Great!) Yelena says from her seat in the front.

“So proud!” Y/N seems to cheer 

“Can we throw them out of the window now?”

“I think we should wait till we get to a higher altitude”

Yelena shrugs “All right”

“Why not ask Melina where it is?” his face looks like a child who ran up to you at a party. 

“Wait, Mom Melina?” Yelena turns her head for a quick glance at the two speaking. 

“We thought she was dead,” Natasha said with a discerning look.

“You cannot kill a fox that swift.”

All the faces in the helicopter scrunched up and there were faux gagging sounds making the rounds. They all didn’t want to hear more and simply asked where she was. God damn St.Petersburg. As Yelena and Alexei spoke about their fuel levels Natasha snuck a look at Y/N again. She saw him switching from a blood-ridden black sweater with an unknown number of holes riddling it, into a slightly smaller tactical suit that came from a small bag Rick had given them. He didn’t look like he was in the best shape but Natasha knew that if she attempted to speak with him it would only end in another fight. Her eyes couldn’t rip away from the man's back as it faced her. She not only saw the previous scar she knew about but many more that covered him. One large healed gash that laid on the lower half of his back right above his hip. It mesmerized her and she couldn’t help but attempt to imagine how it had landed on him. It looked like a heavy drop of watercolours had hit his skin and sunk deep within. She turned away from him and caught the two in the front turning their heads away too. “Shut up,” she took her seat in the co-pilot seat and they began their journey to St.Petersburg.

–

As they all exited the now crashed helicopter Y/N went and threw up in the nearby patch of tall grass. He heard Yelena laugh at him and stuck out a middle finger before continuing to puke. 

Alexei was the last to actually make his way from the crashed vehicle and simply sighed deeply. “You should’ve brought the Avengers’ superjet”

Yelena leaned close to her sister as they walked away and whispered “I swear, if I hear one more word from him, I will kick him in the face.”

“He’s the worst” Natasha's expression doesn’t change from one of slight disgust and amusement at her sister’s words.

She begins to hear her name from behind her and it's Alexei beckoning her over towards him. “Come here, I want to ask you something. Come, it’s important.” He gestures toward himself and she begrudgingly get closer to him. She shrugs as she approaches him and asks “What?” with a displeased and exhausted expression.

“Did he ever talk about me? You know, trading war stories?” his eyes were lighting up with hope and he flashed a smile with his dirty teeth.

“Who? What are you talking about?” She is done with this boarish man. 

“Captain America. My great adversary in this theatre of geopolitical conflict.” he again raised his fist in the air and gritted his teeth “Not so much a nemesis. More like a contemporary, you know?” he softened and shrugged “Coequal. I always thought there was a great deal of mutual respect…” 

She just looks at him as if he tried to eat wood. This man is an idiot. That's the main thing that is running through her mind. “Wait. You haven’t seen either one of us in 20 years and you’re gonna ask me about you?” now her thoughts were getting more violent.

“What is with this tension? Did I do something wrong?” he looks between the two women who are now standing side by side. Y/N comes up behind him and rests a scalding hot hand on his shoulder. 

“Even I knew that was a dick move” he clamps it down for a moment before he attempts to walk a little further and decided to sit. 

“Are you serious?” she looks towards her sister “Is that a serious question?” 

“What? I only ever loved you girls. I did my best to make sure you would succeed to achieve your fullest potential, and everything worked out.” his arms gestured to the land around him and they didn’t give him any sympathetic or understanding look. 

“Everything worked out?” her brows raised as she spoke and the man grabbed her shoulders. 

“Yes. For you, yes. We accomplished our mission in Ohio.” he switched to Yelena now who didn’t know what to make of the affection he was giving her “Yelena, you went on to become the greatest child assassin the world has ever known. No one can match your efficiency, your ruthlessness.” Those words made her throat fill with guilt. It ran down her throat into her stomach and it sunk in deep. He turned back to the redhead still smiling as if he hasn’t said every wrong word imaginable “And Natasha, not just a spy, not just toppling regimes, destroying empires from within, but an Avenger.” A snicker from the man now laying on the floor is heard once he mentions the team. “You both have killed so many people. Your ledgers must be dripping, just gushing red. I couldn’t be more proud of you.” he squeezes the two into his sides and attempts to hold them close. But they are clearly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah babe, I’m proud of you too…” Y/N chuckles through the words that were spoken with sarcasm and gravel as he attempted to stand up.

She scoffs at him and releases herself from Alexei's hold. Yelena continues to break free from his arm. “Okay. You can… No. Let go of me now. You smell really bad.” He looks confused at her words and lifts his armpit to take an examination. His nose curls up and he coughs at the scent that filled his nose. 

 As Natasha comes closer to Y/N, who now managed to stand up. “You know, I thought my dad was a dick…” he says softly as they begin to walk in step. She glances at him in the slightest way. “He didn’t really care about me until I started winning things… and then I was his son-”  

She fully turned to him and stopped him from walking “No, you don’t get to treat me like shit and then attempt to sympathize with me…-you don’t get that luxury” she sees his jaw clench and then release before he speaks again. This time he looks her right in the eyes. 

“My dad wasn’t a good man… I thought I could be better than him. I tried to run from him and my past but it didn’t work in the end -don’t run from it now, confront it” He moved around her and continued to walk down the dirt path. He thought for a moment about her words. He did treat her awfully, he had already gotten his revenge but he still felt like he needed to punish someone for what happened. He attempted to punish A.I.M but he found out from Leviathan that it was not their tech that made the bomb. He attempted to blame himself for going down there alone but he didn’t want to put anyone else in danger. He couldn’t risk the people he cared about being trapped under there like he was. 

Natasha caught back up to him now as his thoughts were finishing. “Pietro didn’t stop talking about you… after you left us in Berlin” his brain stopped and he began to picture his best friend learning the truth. Pietro cuffed and shoved in the vans with the others. Wondered where in the world he had gone. Natasha saw the way his face fell as she said his name. He had been neutral but now his face betrayed himself and he showed the guilt he had been storing. “He wouldn’t believe me or Wanda…-he refused to let Sam call you names, Ross even confirmed it and he called him a bible amount of Sokovian curses.” That part made him smile a little. Then the guilt came crashing back in.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him… it was everyone else I wanted” he stopped walking and looked at the trees that lined the forest. “I only wanted to blame someone, you guys were the easy target. I-...” he took a deep breath in, “I thought that you had moved on -with Steve and that only blinded my anger. I was like a charging bull, I just needed to be steered in the right direction.” He looks down at her eyes and she examines his. She examined his face, his body, the way he was fiddling with his pinky finger as he spoke. She was trying to find his tell and she couldn’t, she was attempting to see how much of his truth he’d speak. 

As they looked at each other for a moment “I would have never gone to steve in that way… not after you, -not after the man you were” she said before swallowing any nerves she was developing. “You were good and kind to me. I felt safe with you, there was no one else I wanted to be with.” they drew closer to each other and she spoke again. “I still want to be with that man -if he ever comes back I will gladly be by his side.” 

That crushed his heart even more. It tore hers into shreds. They separated from each other as the footsteps of the others behind them began to get louder. The tension between them was no longer as tight as the strings of a violin. They were loose and dragged along the dirt path that they walked. Still tied together but only by the loosest knot, they continued side by side.

Tag List:

@littlewinchester15 @ilostafriend-blog1 @nektotersh @ironscarletwidowsoldier @lexi21pro @zyguard118 @diaryoflife @ethanwoods @rokkyy @ihaveanxiety71 @blackwidow-3 @hangingcurtain10 @iamsimpforpoppy @axienic @wubio @dakotastorm @cristin-rjd @itsyourgirlmalise @feedonme @itsyourboymicheal

#Emerald Eyes M-B-B #Emerald Eyes Natasha #Emerald Eyes Wanda #Emerald Eyes Y/N #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fanfic #male!reader x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x male!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x male reader #wanda x reader x natasha #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff × reader #wanda maximoff x m!reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x male!reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #black widow marvel #marvels black widow #black widow #x trans male reader #trans male reader #wanda maximoff x ftm!reader #natasha romanoff x ftm!reader #scarlet witch fanfiction #scarlet witch x m!y/n #scarlet witch #black widow fanfiction #black widow x m!y/n

[hydrangea-bindery]

I posted 70 times in 2022

That's 70 more posts than 2021!

6 posts created (9%)

64 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@renegadepublishing

@agatharights

@sbooksbowm

@greaseonmymouth

@a-gay-old-time

I tagged 48 of my posts in 2022

Only 31% of my posts had no tags

#bookbinding - 43 posts

#inspiration - 32 posts

#fanbinding - 29 posts

#ficbinding - 27 posts

#bookbinding resources - 9 posts

#hydrangea-bindery - 4 posts

#complete - 4 posts

#insipiration - 3 posts

#hydrangea bindery - 2 posts

#booksbooksbooks - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#maybe not interesting or big but i really like the muted color choices with the red of the opening page

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Sorry I haven’t posted any bindings on a while! I’m currently in hospital for a surgery😖😖 but I do want to let you guys know that I now have an Insta, where I post more frequent in-between updates and the like, so please go give me a follow there too! You can find the link in the pinned comment, or on Insta at hydrangea_bindery!

1 note - Posted September 14, 2022

#4

Haha this is silly but I hope you know I really love this blog. I love seeing your projects and I love seeing you reblog other projects. It’s very inspirational and aspirational to me.

No this is not silly at all!!!!! You’re my very first ask!! I always see you reblogging my posts, and it makes me smile. Thank you for telling me that you like the stuff I make, it makes me really really happy to hear that!! I was having a pretty bad morning up until this point, when I saw this, and it made me feel a lot better actually.

And I love your stuff!! I love your Pokemon and Disco Elysium art, especially the animation you made. I think I probably listened to Dancing Queen on repeat for like the next two days, and I think i’ve watched it like three times now? I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you!!! For both your support, and for your amazing art. We’re in this together👏😆

8 notes - Posted December 1, 2022

#3

My next binding! I actually started to work on this one concurrently to Browniefox’s copy of ‘The Haunting of Ryunosuke Naruhodo’, but I didn’t have time, and only just finished recently, and apart from the last signature being too small, I’m really happy with this one! ‘Stay the night with the sinners’ by @bodhirookes is my all time favourite shyan fic, and it’s honestly what got me back into the ghoul boys in the first place, and what finally pushed me to finish watching s7, even more so with the announcement of Watcher! Every line feels like a gut punch in the best way possible, and the world feels fleshed out and truly passionately lived in and you KNOW I love me some angel/demon.

See the full post

44 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

#2

See the full post

67 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

THE CASE OF THE MAN WHO TWO-THIRDS WASN’T THERE • @glisteningceruleaneyes (sorry for not tagging you originally, I didn’t realise you had a tumblr account!!)

Three-and-one-third bodies have been found in an abandoned vehicle on the riverbank.

It would be a challenging case even without the bad weather, weapons smuggling, white nationalists, industrial accidents, and the concept of pedigree dog breeds—but over it all hangs one troubling question: What is it that fascinates you about Kim Kitsuragi? Is it working class camaraderie? A sinister hex of mysterious origin? Did you imprint on him in Martinaise, like an amnesiac duckling? If you don’t figure out what’s going on soon, people are going to start to notice. Especially him. And sooner or later? Everything is related to the case.

See the full post

267 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

12, 30, 46 & 49 for writer asks uwu

Thank you, Dim! 😊

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

Let's see...I'm usually very open to tropes so I'm sure there's not many. The few that I dislike I'm still not touching with a 12-ft pole. 😆But I guess I've been playing with more angst/no comfort stuff that 100% didn't used to be my thing. And like YEARS ago I didn't care for m!preg/baby fics, and now we've got the Cursed!AU...so I'm sure anything is possible and I may end up having some of those grow on me too.

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

So I've written several pairings this year that are "outside my comfort zone" just because I had never done them before. But one that definitely stuck out was the fic I just wrote for THAUC: Secrets in the Blue Mountain Apartment and it's because I was writing primarily from Dis and Vili's POV...and seeing as they don't appear in canon books or movies, it was like writing two OCs that everyone has their own HCs for. 😅 So that was tough, but I would definitely like to use more of them in my future writings now that I've at least laid some "groundwork" for myself.

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write?

Oh, computer. 100%. When I was in college, I used to keep a "writing notebook" that I would pull out during class, but yeah. Only at my most desperate do I write on my phone.

For one thing, I type faster on a keyboard than what I can text on my phone. For another, I have all my shortcuts memorized for "bold" "italics" etc., so that just takes time typing. And then writing on a phone is so deceiving to me word count wise. Luckily, I carry my laptop around with me everywhere, but I definitely do my best writing when I'm comfy at home.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Currently, I am trying to finish up this next chapter of The Twelve Transformations of Bilbo Baggins so I can update on Saturday. 👀 Here's a small-ish excerpt. 🤣

Bilbo quickly retraced his steps, pretending to sleep as he felt Balin gently scoop him up in his arms. His heart felt like it was thundering away in his chest though. Would Thorin really leave him behind if they couldn’t find a cure? It wasn’t like he was going to be a child forever, but then again, what if the next transformation was worse? Thorin wasn’t going to risk the quest all for Bilbo’s sake.

“Thorin,” Balin’s soft voice broke through Bilbo’s worries. “Am I interpreting these proceedings correctly? You and Master Baggins…?”

Bilbo nearly broke his cover right there. What about him and Thorin? There was a long pause before Thorin answered, but it sounded half-hearted even to Bilbo.

“The wizard knows not what he insinuates. My view of the hobbit is strictly professional.”

Professional?! No wonder more people didn’t do business with dwarves if that’s how they behave in a professional atmosphere. Still it was nice to know that Thorin didn’t hate him. He just didn’t see the need to cultivate an acquaintanceship with Bilbo. That was fine. He could be okay with that. His chin trembled slightly, but he blamed it solely on his guilt of eavesdropping.

“You’re a poor liar, lad. You always have been, but I can understand not wanting to consider such things now. However, you’re a fool if you think holding him at arm’s length will make this quest easier.”

“I will handle it how I see fit.” Thorin growled. “In any case, nothing can come from him being the way he is, so I will hear no more on the subject.”

Ask me some fic questions!

#sunny answers stuff #i didn't mean for this to be this long my bad #super excited to update something soon though

[carters-things]

Sleepless Nights

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt Finds out you haven't been sleeping

TW: None I think

Masterlist

You're sitting at your desk fighting tooth and nail to stay awake. Eyes heavy and body like jello. You're leaning on your hand in a manner to barely keep one eye pried open as you flip through the files pertaining to Nelson and Murdock’s current trial. "Wow. That interesting of a read huh?" Foggy says startling you to a perfect posture position.

"Oh.. uh... yeah. I just. Got distracted..." you said rubbing your face to try and collect yourself.

"This is the third day in a row you have been out of it. Are you feeling ok?" Foggy asks pouring you some coffee.

"Yeah. I just.." your voice trails off as Matt walks out of his office. "I think I'm coming down with something." You say as you clear your throat and nod as a thank you to Foggy, taking the outstretched coffee.

Matt leans against the door post to his office, hand on his hip. You can feel him staring into you, knowing he's listening to your heart rate. Well now he knows I’m lying. The truth is you haven't slept. Not more than 2 hours a night for almost the past week. Matt had made headway on locating some remaining Russians that had gone underground when he thought he took them all down. He came home about 2 weeks ago in pretty bad shape. It took you an hour to treat all of his injuries as he faded in and out of consciousness. You've never been so scared in your life. You cried and begged him to stay awake- to talk to you and fight the urge to slip unconscious again- as you watched his blank stare fade and eyes roll back into his head.

Since that night you haven't slept soundly. Losing more and more sleep each night he goes out. Matt had enough going on in Hell's kitchen that he feels obligated to protect, he didn't need to add taking care of you to his list. You’ve been staying at your place more so he doesn’t know that you aren’t sleeping but on the nights you do cave in and stay over there he lays with you until you're "asleep" before going out into the dark. You fake this because he needs those moments of peace and safety of holding you in his arms just as much as you do.

"Why don't you take half a day today Y/N. We've got this covered here. Go home and get some rest and we can fill you in tomorrow morning." Matt says concerned.

"No. Really I'm ok, I want to help." You adjust your chair, sitting upright pulling into your desk.

The rest of the day drags on as you fight back the exhaustion. "All in a day's work!" Foggy says shutting his office door. "Josie's anyone?" He says pointing at you and Matt with his eyebrows raised.

"Thanks Fog, but I'm going to take Y/N home."

"I guess I don't have a choice." You laugh nervously. Grabbing your personal belongings and closing your computer down. You walk to the door with Foggy and Matt- who has grabbed your elbow to guide him. You walk home listening to Matt talk about the trial coming up and different strategies of approaches that we can take. You nod and mutter the occasional affirmation so he knows you're listening but you're more distracted knowing it's just a matter of hours before he leaves to go out again. All of the horrible scenarios running through your aching head. "Stay with me tonight." Matt says breaking the thought pattern and stopping you in your tracks.

"What?"

"Stay with me tonight. You need to rest and my apartment is closer. I'll cook you dinner and we can watch a movie"

"Is this you asking or telling?" You question back.

"Both?" He says tilting his head wearing a smirk.

"Fine. But I'm picking the movie." you say playfully bumping shoulders with him as you continue the walk to his place.

Around 830 you finish cleaning up dish-ware from dinner. You wash and dry them in silence as your eyes get heavy. Once the dishes are done you head to the bathroom closing the door behind you. You wash your face- removing all of the concealer and foundation you’ve been using to keep up your act as you stare into the mirror and see the physical toll the lack of sleep is taking on your body. Your eyes are puffy, with dark blue shade underneath- your cheeks and face are void of any other natural color. Thank goodness Matt is blind and can’t see the evidence.

“Sweetheart?” Matt says knocking on the door-snapping you out of your thoughts again.

“I’ll uh… I’ll be out in a second!” you urge back splashing more water on your face before taking a big breath in to prepare to leave the bathroom. You open the door to see Matt standing with his arms crossed, blank stare searching for your face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in as normal of a voice as you can make.

“I was going to ask you the same thing..” he says running his hand up your arm and to your cheek. He leans in to place a kiss on your forehead and you meet him halfway, melting into his arms.

“I’ve just missed you, that's all.” you say squeezing your arms around his waist as you tuck your head under his chin.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” you say looking up at his face, glistening in the neon lights coming through the living room windows.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” his eyes move trying to meet yours.

“Why do you ask?” you say taken back.

“You have been really out of it lately.. Your body temperature hasn’t risen so you aren’t sick like you said but I’m worried about you” he says cradling the back of your head with his hand and the other rubbing circles on your back.

“I… well…” You feel a lump form in your throat and tears form in your eyes. Your breathing rate picks up as you try and stifle your cries. Matt holds you close to him, his warm touch and strong grip making you feel safe enough to fall apart. You start to cry, unable to even form a thought to begin to explain what has been going on.

“Shhh..my love…” He says softly, running his hand through your hair. “Talk to me, I’m here..”

“For now… but what happens in a couple hours? You go out and I lay awake waiting for you to come home? Not knowing if you’ll even make it home.” You say pulling back from his arms, wiping your tears away. “I haven’t slept since that night you came home almost dead Matthew.. I watched you fade in and out. I cried over you, and begged you to stay with me. I’ve never felt so scared or helpless in my life. I had to sit and wait for you to wake up. Wait for you to decide to fight to live. How am I supposed to sleep knowing you’re out there fighting your way through the dark.”

“I’ll always come back to you y/n. Always.” Matt says cupping your cheek. His hands are calloused but his touch is still somehow soft. You raise your hand and hold it over top of his, leaning into his palm.

“I can’t lose you Matty…” Your voice trails off.

“And you won’t.”

“I know you think you’re invincible, but you’re still human. Even with your amazing senses you still have limits. We all do.”

“I promise I’ll be more careful. I shouldn’t have put all of that on you the other night. Not all alone. That wasn’t fair to you, and it won’t happen again.” Matt says reaching for your hand. He grabs it and holds it to his chest. You can feel his gentle steady heartbeat bringing a calming reassurance that he is very much alive. “Come on. You need to rest.”

“I can’t go to sleep just to wake up to you gone..” You say hiding your face in his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

You both make your way to the bedroom and climb into his bed. The silk sheets are cool to the touch, a calming sensation. Matt wraps his arms around your waist as you lay with your back to him. Fitting into the shape of his body perfectly. He can sense your hesitation in letting yourself relax. “Go to sleep sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”

Hearing that sentence allows you to let out a sigh of relief. A sigh that feels like you’ve been holding your breath for days. You melt into Matts’ embrace, finally feeling safe enough to sleep. And just as he said, you woke up the next morning with him safe and sound- asleep by your side. You rolled over to face him, taking in every little detail of his presence before wiggling your way into his arms and onto his chest, falling back to sleep.

#matt murdock x yn #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x reader #daredevil #fanfic #carteranne

[visionofhope04]

Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason

This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!

This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!

f/n = friend name

Y/G/N = your group name

N/S = news station

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5

---

You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.

Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.

So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.

It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.

The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.

You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.

Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.

Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.

He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?

Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?

Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?

Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.

He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.

“What do you want Demon Spawn?”

“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”

“You mean my sister?”

“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.

“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”

“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.

“She’s not here.”

“Then where is she?”

“Not here.”

“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”

“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.

“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because I demand to know!”

“Okay and?”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Why not!”

“Because you don’t even care.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.

“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.

“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.

“...” Was Damian’s reply.

“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.

Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.

---

It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.

Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.

You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.

However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.

“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”

You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”

“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”

“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”

“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”

“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”

“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”

“You’re saying it in the past tense.”

“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”

“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”

“No family is actually perfect.”

“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”

“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”

“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)

---

Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.

He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?

He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.

---

Tag list: @fake-id-69 @pepelachanel @loxbbg @what-0-life @yoongi-holland @omnivorousfangirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @sexysamsungl @iceddonuts @buginetye @portrait-ninja @azazel-nyx @alculai

#batfam #batfamily #batsis #batfam x batsis #batfam x reader #batfam x neglected!batsis!reader #batman #brucewayne #nightwing #dickgrayson #redhood #batfamxbatsis #batfamxreader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #red hood #redrobin #red robin #robin #damian wayne x batsis #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x batsis!reader #tim drake x batsis #tim drake x reader #tim drake x batsis!reader #jason todd x batsis #jason todd x reader

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

[softjakehoon]

My Roommate Who Uses an XL Condom pt. 1

pairing: Jay/Reader

includes: slight edging, deep throat, cum in mouth, rough sex, breeding kink, roommate sex

warning: this is a written smut, if you don’t like reading stuff like this, scroll down for your sake please it’s not that complicated, thank you. 

also, this was inspired by a manga called "Joushi no Asoko wa XL size" and it's the part about the xl condom thingy, which would be on the second part though. and of course, our y'n being a product reviewer. the rest are based on my imagination.

----

You've been searching for a part-time job for a couple of hours now, but most of the jobs available are full-time shifts. You're in your fourth year in college and you're pretty much occupied with all of the school works and activities that's why you resigned from your previous customer service job. You have no choice but to choose a job that will allow you to manage your own time. It's not like you wanted to do this out of boredom. You have to support yourself to afford your tuition fees and daily expenses. Your parents are both senior citizens so you had to work right after you turned 18.

"Product reviewer? No way, this sounds too good to be true."

One-week deadline per product.

Flexible work schedule. 

Salary offer $1000 per review.

You didn't hesitate to submit your application. You have to get this job or you won't be able to pay rent. You don't even have anything to eat for this week. You sighed at your current situation. You went to the shower room to clean up before going to bed. 

---

You woke up around 8 am, starving. You went to the kitchen to find something to eat. You were surprised to see the fridge full of actual food to eat. 

"Am I dreaming? How is the fridge full of food when it was empty last night?" You grabbed a tub of marinated beef and began cooking. 

"Fuck, when was the last time I ate meat? I've only been eating ramen and junk food lately. No wonder I feel like shit." You laughed at your own misery. You were cut off by the sound of the door opening. You don't remember inviting anyone over to your apartment. You don't have a roommate as well so you started to feel nervous. 

"Who is it?" You shouted while chewing on the meat you wrapped with lettuce. 

You turned your head around to see a man around your age wearing all black and a frown on his face. 

"Who are you?" He asked you back. 

"I asked you a question first. Why do you have a key to my apartment?" This time, you went to speak to him up close. You're near-sighted so you wanted to see him up close. 

"I'm Jay. I moved in last night. Are you my roommate?" He kept his cold expression. 

He's handsome as fuck, but cold as hell. You thought to yourself. Too bad. 

"Oh, that must be why the fridge is full this morning. Fuck, sorry I cooked the beef bulgogi just now. I will pay you back once I get paid from my job." You looked down from embarrassment. 

"That's alright." He didn't even bother to ask your name and went to his room. You didn't want to bug him about it since you still owe him a tub of beef so you just shrugged your shoulder and finished your breakfast. 

While eating, you checked on your email for updates. 

"Holy fuck." Your jaw dropped upon reading an email. It was from the company you applied to last night. You got the job, and you're starting today. 

You signed the contract immediately and submitted all the needed requirements. Your first product will arrive in the afternoon so you couldn't help but be excited while washing the dishes. 

After doing the dishes, you decided to do the laundry. You've been going braless in the apartment when you were still alone but you have a male roommate now so you can't do that anymore. You needed to wash them. 

"Fuck, I ran out of shorts as well? What have I been doing all this time to forget doing my laundry?"

You decided to wear an oversized almost see-through white shirt and black underwear. 

While you were putting your clothes in the front load washing machine, you heard him pretending to cough. 

You dropped the clothes upon hearing that and looked around to see him piercing you with his eyes staring straight at your body. 

"What do you think are you doing?" He said, raising his eyebrows. 

"I'm doing my laundry. Are you blind?" You looked to your side, afraid of meeting his eyes. 

He stood in front of you, "I'm not. In fact I'm very much pleased of what I'm seeing right now." You gulped when he touched your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. 

"What are you doing?" You're starting to get nervous, or turned on. You don't know anymore. Is it because you haven't had sex for so long now? Fuck, you know you can't have sex with your roommate. You know damn well how it would end since your ex was also your roommate before. 

"I'm making you look at my face. Ever since we met you've been avoiding my gaze." He smirked at you, turning you on even more. 

"T-that's because you look scary, dude. Geez, get your hands off me or I will punch your face so I won't have any reason to look at it." You tried to push him away only for him to corner you on the wall with his arms locking you in. 

"Don't call me that. Or I will kiss you right now." You knew he wasn't bluffing. But for some reason, you wanted to kiss him as well. So you called him that. 

"Stop playing around, dude. Can't you see I'm busy doing someth-" You were cut off by his lips on yours. It stayed still for a short moment as if he was trying to see how you would react. But when he sensed you closing your eyes, he began to move his lips along with yours.

It was a sweet and passionate kiss as if he knew you all his life. It felt so good, you couldn't help but pull his hair, making the kiss deeper. His right hand holding your face along with your jaw, his left hand holding your waist, keeping you close to his body. You could feel your core starting to get wet from the heat that you're feeling, making you rub your thighs together. Taking the hint, Jay placed his knee in the middle and closed the distance between your body. You're now grinding on his thighs, desperately looking for friction and release. 

"Are we just gonna kiss all day or are you going to fuck me?" You pulled away from the kiss and chased your breath.

"I thought you said you're busy." He smirked again. 

"Well now I'm not." You kissed him again, this time with so much lust and desire. Jay is incredibly handsome, he's tall and has a nice body as well. Normally, you don't hang out with guys like him because you know they're always into pretty girls, but you don't want to think about it for now. 

"Relax, baby. I'll get you nice and ready first." He grabbed your breasts as soon as he removed your shirt, sucking on your nipples while his right hand palming your core. 

"I guess I don't even need to. You're soaking wet already. Is this all for me, babe?" He removed your last piece of clothing and slipped two fingers inside you. 

"Fuck, Jay. Shut up already and put it in.” You can't help but moan as he slips his fingers in and out of you.

“Stop bossing me around, brat.” There was a sudden change in his aura, his fingers thrusting in and out of you now roughly. 

“Damn it, I wanna cum on your cock, please. Fuck me already.” You begged. You’re about to reach your climax under his touch. All of a sudden, he removed his fingers making you bite your lips in frustration.

“What the hell? Why did you sto-” You were cut off when he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing you down on your knees. He immediately removed his belt and tied your hands with it. You stared at him with your puppy eyes while waiting for him to remove his clothes.

He pumped his cock a couple of times before squeezing your cheeks, a sign for you to open your mouth. You were taken aback by the size of his cock in your tiny mouth. You can’t even touch him to support yourself, so he was holding you by your hair and fucking your mouth as he wants. 

“See, this is what your mouth is for. It’s not for you to talk back, or be a brat. This mouth is meant for my cock.” Tears pooled in your eyes as the tip of his dick hits your throat every time he would thrust. You were able to get rid of your gag reflex, thanks to your ex.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this? I fucking love your mouth. You’ve got no gag reflex? Fucking insane, ahh.” He’s growling at this point. You can tell he’s close as the veins in his dick are getting more prominent and it’s twitching inside your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” After a couple of thrusts, he came down your throat. You gladly swallowed his cum, making sure nothing goes to waste.

“Shit, brat. You better remember how I taste.” He said, untying your hands from his belt. He helped you to stand, kissing you while placing you on top of the counter. 

He took no time in aligning himself into your core. He gathered your wetness using the tip of his dick and finally pushed it in. You can definitely feel the stretch but the pleasure goes beyond the pain at this point. You were moaning softly against his ear. 

“Fuck, you feel so tight around me.” His thrust getting steady and rougher each time.

“You feel so good, Jay. I’m gonna cum.” You’re finally getting the release he denied you earlier.

“That’s right, cum on my cock.” You moaned in response. Your walls tightening around him even more, making him meet his nearing climax for the second time.

“Cum with me, Jay. Come inside me, please.” You were on birth control anyway. You were on an injectable contraceptive and it’s still in effect ‘til now. You will probably need to ask him if he’s fucking around later on but you really wanted to have his cum inside you. Hearing you beg for his cum was music to his ears. After easing you from your high with a couple of thrusts, he came right after. You felt his dick twitch inside you, his cum spreading heat in your walls. He pulled out seconds after, making his cum leak out of you.

Jay swore he took a mental image of it in his mind. You looked so hot, all fucked out because of him. You, on the other hand, waited for him to help you get off the counter.

Which he didn’t do. He put on his clothes and went straight to the bathroom to clean himself. 

“What a jerk. Did he just leave me here after all that?” You tried not to feel too disappointed. Still, it made you feel angry. He could’ve at least helped you. “I’m never having sex with you again, asshole.” You said just enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

Author’s note: Jay’s point of view will be on the second part. He’s a gentleman pls.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen jay #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jay scenarios

[diaphragmjellyfish]

I Have This... Thing

Not My Gif

So as someone with vaginismus, it’s sometimes frustrating to read fan fiction, specifically smut. Y/N always has sex so easily and with very little foreplay, finishing with no issues. And it’s so great for people who can do that, but it’s not the case for all of us. Some of us can’t have any sort of penetration without pain. Some people can’t finish without toys, or hours of work. Some people will never be able to have penetrative sex. There’s all kinds of people, and there’s all kinds of sex. But not near enough fics featuring Y/N’s with these issues. So I’m going to write some, and feel free to request any issue with any character, and if I don’t know that character, we can collaborate to find a character you like that I do know. 

Paul Lahote x reader smut. 

You had lived in Forks for about 6 months now. You’ve known your new friends here for 5 months. And you’ve been the imprint of Paul Lahote for 3 months. Well, you’ve been his imprint since you guys first locked eyes at La Push when you first hung out with Emily, but he didn’t tell you about the whole werewolf/ imprint thing until 3 months ago. Safe to say it came as a shock. Your friends, the people who had welcomed you so easily, helped you move furniture around, and gave you tours of the new town, were WOLVES. Or engaged to wolves. *cough* Emily *cough*. You had to take a few weeks break from them after they told you. After Sam explained the legends, the lore. After Paul told you that you were basically his soul mate. It’s a lot to take in! 

But you quickly realized that you had grown to love the pack. And now that you knew the big secret, things were easier around them. No more lies about where they had all been. No more avoiding talking about their mysterious injuries that only seemed to last for a couple hours. No more awkwardly dancing around why Paul stared at you constantly and wouldn’t let any other guy get within 6 feet of you without having a rage attack and sprinting into the woods. Things were going good. 

Well… as good as they could be without sex. Yep. You and Paul had been together for 3 months and you have not had sex. You didn’t give each other head. You didn’t take your clothes off around each other. You didn’t even dry hump. And you knew it was your fault. You could tell that Paul was getting nervous about the fact that you wouldn’t let him touch you like that. He would never ask you about it, because he wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, but you could tell it was on his mind. The little sad smile he would give when you stopped things from going further. The hover of his hands over your ass before landing back on your waist. The way he looked almost guilty after looking at you in a swimsuit or crop top. 

See, vaginismus made relationships difficult. You never had a long term relationship before Paul. You were either too scared to tell partners about it, and just dealt with the excruciating pain, which would lead to resentment and breakups, or you would tell them and they would ghost you. Guys don’t normally go for girls who’s opening line is “Hi! I cannot have sex without crying.” You’d been dilating for almost a year now. It was going okay. Some days hurt more than others. A lot of times, Paul would ask you to hang out when you were in the middle of your physical therapy, and you would have to make up some excuse as to why you couldn't. Too tired. Headache. Stomach bug. He was starting to catch on. 

One day, you guys were hanging out at your apartment watching a movie. You had been making out, but as soon as it started getting slightly heated, you had pulled away and got up to get a drink refill. Paul, having gotten used to the routine, didn’t question you. While you were in the kitchen pouring some more juice, Paul asked “Hey babe? Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah it’s in the top drawer of my bedside table,” you haphazardly yelled back. 

You heard him get up and go into your bedroom, rummaging around a little. Then silence. 

“Hey babe?” he said hesitantly. You thought he just couldn’t find the charger, so you began walking towards your room to grab it for him. Once you got to the doorway, you stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes wide. Face bright red. Paul held up the dilator you were currently on, which was about 5 inches long and looked… well let’s be honest. It looked like a dildo. The bottle of lubricant that was also in the drawer didn’t help your case. How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself? You expected Paul to tease you, make some sex jokes, and maybe try to make out with you again, but he didn’t. He looked absolutely crushed. 

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” He asked, sounding on the verge of tears. 

“What?! Paul, of course I want to have sex with you!”

“Then why this?” he pressed.

“You don’t even know what that’s for. Let me explain,” you pleaded, afraid he was going to lose that infamous temper. You’d never witnessed it before, but you were scared you were about to. 

“I think I have a pretty good guess about what this is for!” He exclaimed, holding it up. “You won’t even let me kiss your neck but you have this that you obviously use when I’m not around. You don’t want to have sex with me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Paul! That’s not true at all!” You were starting to get irritated at his assumptions. “It’s for physical therapy.” 

“Oh, is that what we’re calling orgasms now?” He questioned, exasperated. 

“I’m not talking about orgasms! If you gave me two seconds to explain, you would know that that does not bring me an ounce of pleasure. I hate having to use it.” You started to tear up at this, all the memories of your struggles surging back up. At this, Paul stopped. He looked super confused, but also worried about you. God forbid you shed a tear, Paul would rip the world apart to make you happy again. “Come sit down,” you said, resigned, as you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. Paul, still holding the dilator in his hand, sat down next to you. The silence seemed to last an eternity, but you knew that the longer you went without explaining, the more hurt Paul would feel. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said it was for physical therapy,” you whispered. “I have other ones. All different sizes.” You realized you might not have been helping your case with this. 

“I don’t understand. Why do you need them if you don’t use them to get off?” He looked like a kicked puppy. 

“Well… I have this thing. It’s like… a condition? And I need them so maybe one day I can have sex without any pain.” He still looked wildly confused, and you knew you were going to have to elaborate. “When I first started having sex, it hurt. A lot. But I always heard that it was supposed to hurt the first time. So I just kind of put up with it. It was bad though. I always tapped out, couldn’t go for more than a couple minutes. It felt like this really intense stinging. Like a rugburn all inside me. And it didn’t stop, even after I started doing it more. It never went away… I ended up googling it, and it’s actually something that a lot of women struggle with. I made a doctor’s appointment and was lucky enough to get diagnosed the first time. Lots of women are told they’re making it up. My doctor gave me these dilators, told me how to use them, and said that with enough time and physical therapy, I could have painless sex one day.” When you finished, you turned to look at him. He was staring intently at the dilator, thinking. 

“So, you have to like… stretch yourself? Were you just born too small?” He phrased it delicately, but you knew what he meant. 

“Basically, it’s an anxiety disorder with very physical symptoms. My pelvic floor muscles constrict when I try to put anything inside me, which makes it super painful. It’s like an involuntary reflex. Like blinking when something flies near your face. And I have to condition my body to learn that penetration doesn’t hurt, and that it doesn’t have to tighten up like that. The condition is called vaginismus. You can google it yourself if you want.” 

“Oh.” A pause. Paul knew you had some anxiety, but he never guessed it could cause something like this. He knew you were embarrassed. He could tell. And the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you couldn’t be open and vulnerable with him. Did you think he would leave you? Or get mad? “Why didn’t you tell me?” Was the question that came out. 

“It’s humiliating. I could tell you were getting antsy about us not having sex, and I guess I didn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. This physical therapy, it takes a while. I’ve already been doing it for almost a year, and I still have three sizes after this one.” A tear fell. You wiped it away quickly, hoping he Paul wouldn’t notice, but he did. He moved to wrap his arms around you, putting the dilator back on your nightstand. He embraced you, and the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere was more than you could handle. You burst into tears as he pulled you onto his lap and rocked you both, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You guys stayed there until you stopped crying, and then he finally spoke. 

“Y/N, I don’t ever want you to feel like there’s something you can’t tell me. I love you. And yeah, I would love to have sex with you one day, but I’m with you because of who you are. I don’t care if we never do it. You are my person, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you the happiest you can be. This? This thing you think is such a problem? It’s irrelevant to me. To my love for you. And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, cheering you on, until you don’t want me anymore.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it. 

“I love you, Paul,” was all you could say. You leaned in and shared the sweetest, most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. When you pulled away, the tension in the room was gone, replaced with you and Paul’s usual light, fun energy. 

“How do you use them?” He smiled as he asked, nodding his head towards your nightstand where the dilator still rested. “Do you like… just ride them? Or..?” 

You laughed, which made his smile broaden. “It’s not a sexual thing. Basically I put a towel down, cover the dilator in lube, and put it in as far as I can without pain. Then, I just sit there and leave it for like 20 minutes. And then I take it out.” 

“So you just like... do homework while you do it?” His concerned face made you laugh again. 

“You have to make your body associate it with pleasure, so no, I don’t do homework. Normally I’ll watch a funny show or eat some candy or FaceTime you.”

He froze at this. “You do this when we FaceTime?” 

This made you blush and look away from his piercing gaze. “Sometimes. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just a nice distraction.” 

“No, no. I don’t want you to stop. It’s just… can I see you do it?” This question shocked you. Not just the question itself, but the fact that you didn’t hate the idea. You loved kissing Paul. What better way to associate therapy with pleasure than by kissing him while you do it? 

“Are you sure? Like I said, it’s not exactly sexual. Or sexy. Like at all. I literally just sit there.” 

“I know, it’s ok. I want to be able to help you, but if you don’t want to we can just go back to the movie.” 

“I mean I do still have to do it today.” You thought for another second, before jumping up and saying “Okay. Let’s do it.” 

Paul looked happy and excited, but also lost. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his eyes. Did you want him to touch you? Or just watch you? Or just sit in the corner of the room and face the wall? You were spreading a towel across the middle of the bed, and went to untie your sweatpants before looking at him. 

“Guess we haven’t really gotten this far, huh?” alluding to being naked in front of each other. It did make you a little nervous, and nerves equal tight muscles, which means pain. 

“Why don’t you put a blanket over yourself? That way there’s less pressure,” he suggested, and you could have kissed him for it. You smiled, nodded, and grabbed a throw blanket from the chair. He turned around to face the wall while you took off your pants and settled under the blanket. 

“Ok, I’m good.” you said. He turned back around, coming to kneel beside you on the bed. 

“Do you want me to just… hold your hand? Or sit here and talk to you?” 

“Would you want to sit behind me?” You suggested nervously, leaning forward slightly. 

“Of course! Yeah, I can do that.” He took this seriously, and you appreciated that. This was a scenario you had thought about many times, and though you knew he wouldn’t be the type to ask you to have sex with him despite the pain, it was always a possibility. The fact that he didn’t take your pain lightly, and let you be in charge so you would be comfortable, meant more to you than he would ever know. Paul gently climbed behind you, putting his legs on either side of you, and hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. You leaned back into him, as if to say I’m okay with this.

“Can you hand me the… “ You nodded your head towards the nightstand, and Paul didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence before he leaned over and grabbed the dilator and bottle of lube, holding them out in front of you both. You muttered a “thanks” as you took them from his hands, and brought them under the blanket. After slathering the dilator with a good amount of lube, you closed the bottle and tossed it towards the foot of the bed, leaning back and shifting your hips down. Paul clearly didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, so he was slow and careful as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you time to say stop. You didn’t, though. He felt your body tense slightly as you dragged the tip of the dilator around your entrance, so he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, kissing your cheek. You turned your head to look at him, and he met you with a sweet kiss. You guys pulled away slightly, before going back in as you began to push the dilator in further. He kissed you with love, tenderness, and care, so as not to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It was clear that you had the reigns, and Paul would stop as soon as you gave the slightest indication that you were uncomfortable. The dilator was about half way in, and you felt a slight stinging sensation, but kissing Paul distracted you. You brought one hand up to cup the side of his face, pulling him back in. 

Paul kept kissing you, waiting for your lips to part so he could brush his tongue against yours. This is normally where you would stop him, but he knew everything now. There was no expectation of more, and damn. Paul was a really good kisser. He sucked lightly at your lower lip, before nibbling it and letting it go, coming back in with his lips. The combination of Paul’s kisses, the slight heat they brought to your body, and the pressure of the tip of the dilator inside you had you shift your hips, and involuntarily let out a small moan. It was barely audible, but Paul and his super senses heard it. You pulled away and slapped a hand over your mouth, your face turning bright red. He chuckled deeply, the sound going straight to your body, and brought his hand up to pull your hand off your mouth. “Don’t you dare hide those sounds from me,” he teasingly whispered into your ear. You shivered, and Paul started to kiss your cheek, down your jaw, and onto your neck. He sucked on the soft skin, hands squeezing your waist and rubbing up and down. You wanted to try something. For the first time, dilating actually didn’t feel so obligatory, so mechanical and stiff. You pushed the dilator deeper in, just about a centimeter, but enough to give you that feeling you had moments ago. You let out a breathy sigh as you tilted your head to give Paul more room on your neck. He felt you shift your hips again, and brought one of his hands to rub circles on your lower stomach. Skin on skin. And it felt good. 

You kept going like this for a few minutes, and Paul could feel your skin grow hotter by the second. Your back was arched, your neck covered in light red marks, and Paul had the intense desire to see you unravel. He brought his lips from your neck up to the side of your face, getting as close to eye contact as he could in this position, and said “Can I touch you?” 

You knew what he meant. The thought of it made you nervous. No one had touched you without it hurting before. It was almost as if he read your mind when he followed with “I can just stay on the outside…” Oh. You could be down with that. You turned your head to him and nodded. 

“Just try not to touch the dilator,” you said softly. You trusted Paul. He was already being so kind and patient with this, and you knew he would die before he would ever hurt you. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your stomach travelled lower. Lower. Lower. Until he could feel the slight stubble of a past shave, and then your soft, wet skin. You gasped as he touched your most sensitive parts, even more so because of how turned on you were. He gently made small, tight circles over your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell completely slack against him and let out a moan. A real moan, that Paul swore he would never forget. And he made you make that sound. It only spurred him on. He applied slightly more pressure, but not so much as to overwhelm you. And he knew that when girls were feeling good, the secret wasn’t faster or harder, but to keep doing exactly what you were doing. So that’s what he did, and it had you writhing. Your moans kept coming, and your legs had started to shake. However, because it felt so good, your muscles had started to clench around the dilator, and it was beginning to hurt. 

You didn’t want to rain on the parade. It was going so well. But Paul being the attentive lover that he is, noticed you begin to tense up in a new way. He brought his hand back up to your stomach, concern racing through his brain, and asked “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” 

“It’s kind of starting to. Not you, the dilator. I think I might take it out.” You stared down at his hand still touching your stomach. Such beautiful hands. You didn’t want it to end. 

“Do you want to try a smaller one? Or do you want to stop?” He questioned. 

“I really don’t want to stop,” you laughed. He breathed a laugh as well, and waited for your direction. You had a thought. Paul’s index finger was smaller than the dilator. Much smaller. If you just told him what to do and what not to do, that could feel really good. “Would you want to maybe… Nevermind.” You got nervous. 

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t do that. Tell me what you want,” He brought a finger up to your chin and moved your face towards him. “Tell me. Whatever it is, Princess. It’s yours.” Your whole body shuddered at this. He’s never called you that before, and to say it did something to you would be an understatement. 

You let out a breath, gathering courage, and said “Would you want to… use your finger?” 

He stopped at this. “Like, put my finger inside you? That wouldn’t hurt?” 

“I don’t think so. It’s smaller than this,” you said, bringing the dilator out and up. “And as long as I tell you what to do, it could be really good,” you said the last part shyly. 

“Okay, Princess. I can do that. How do you want me to do it?” 

“Try to do more… pressure, and less… friction? Like try not to go in and out so much, but you can move it around inside.” Your face was once again blushing intensely. 

“Anything you want. You just have to promise that you’ll tell me if it even hurts a little.”

“I promise.” You said it confidently enough that Paul brought his hand back down under the blanket. He circled your clit a couple times, making you shiver and release a breathy sigh, before moving his middle finger even lower, circling your entrance. He gathered some of the lube that was there from the dilator, coating his finger, and you brought your hand down to hold it, guiding it inside you at a speed that was comfortable. It was smaller than the dilator, so he was in you in 15 seconds. He stopped, and gave you a minute to adjust. Your hips writhed again because of how turned on you were, so Paul brought his other hand down and began circling your clit again. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you began to moan again, hips moving even more now. Paul took this as his queue to press his middle finger up against your inner wall lightly, causing a loud moan to leave your mouth. You were too far gone to be embarrassed. 

“There you go, baby,” he praised. God, this was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He was barely touching you, barely moving his finger inside you, and you were a mess. He had been rock hard since you guys started, but your ass was rubbing against him as you moved your hips, and he released a small growl at the feeling. This only turned you on more. He kept moving his finger in you the same way. Pressure, not friction. Pressure, not friction. He kept telling himself this. He wanted to finger bang you into oblivion, but the risk of hurting you was too high, so he kept up with rubbing the tip of his finger against that spot on your upper wall, in a “come-hither” motion. Your moans began to get higher in pitch, your body tensing even more.

“Relax your muscles for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, and you did. Your release was approaching rapidly, and you wanted to grind against his hand, but you didn’t want to risk pain, so you trusted Paul to get you there. You were panting, hips shuddering, face scrunched, as your climax hit you like a wave. Your legs shook as you opened your mouth in a silent scream, and Paul carried you all the way through it. You came down, and lightly grabbed his wrists. He knew that that meant stop. So he slowly withdrew his finger, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. Head still up in the clouds, you watched him, slack-jawed, as he popped his finger out and moaned. “So sweet,” he purred. Watching him suck on his finger like that made you think of something you’d like to suck on, and you looked down at Paul, still rock hard, and turned around in his lap. 

“Let me return the favor,” you said with a smirk.

#twilight #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut #wolf pack #seth clearwater #embry call #quil ateara #sam uley #jacob black #jared cameron #robert pattinson #bella swan #edward cullen #vaginismus #dilating #paul lahote x reader smut #twilight smut

[idy-ll-ique]

A Good Look.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: major angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds, domestic violence (no graphic descriptions). hella curse words in one paragraph. one infinity war reference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Requested: nope

Summary: reader works at a bar owned by the notorious mob boss. he immediately takes a liking to her; unfortunately, she's taken. but is she happy in her relationship? hm, not quite...

Author's Note: hiya peeps! enjoy!

masterlist

---

For her, it started small. It was her first day working. When Y/N had seen him walk into the bar, flanked by two of his closest friends, sure— for a moment, she was stunned, as were the other women working with her, but then as soon as he was out of sight, she returned to her work, ignoring her friends as they talked about the man.

Y/N knew better. She knew the kind of man he was, the way he was with a different woman almost every day and she knew better than to develop any kind of feelings for him. Plus, she was a taken woman herself, thinking about another man while being in a relationship with someone had to be wrong, right?

That's why she wanted an out— to break up with her current boyfriend. And he even made it easier for her by being the worst fucking boyfriend on the planet earth. She had hundreds of reasons as to why she was breaking up with him, the only question was when she could do it. Anyway, back to James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes...

Y/N couldn't help it. She went from ignoring him, to stealing small glances at him, to dreaming about him to thinking about him 24/7 in a matter of months.

Y/N worked as a bartender at one of the bars that the mobster owned. Heck, Bucky Barnes owned half the city, but that bar was one of his favorite places to visit. He went there everyday, most days not having a drink, but keeping a watchful gaze on the events that took place around the bar. There would be fights sometimes, and sometimes, the older men would hit on the young bartenders.

He didn't care, of course he didn't. That is, until he saw her. The moment he laid his eyes on her, her name still unknown to him, he was enamored. He kept looking over at her as she worked, sometimes giggling along with the other bartenders, sometimes cracking jokes that made all of them keel over in laughter.

Every time he saw her laughing, his heart fluttered in his chest and a warmth settled over him. He felt light-headed and giddy, even though he didn't drink. Within a few months, he was sure, he wanted her to be his indefinitely. Y/N, however, was shocked at his behavior, not knowing that she was the one who stole his heart.

His promiscuity stopped within the first week of him noticing Y/N. He no longer had one-night stands, no more dames by his side as he attended lavish parties, and the news had caught on. Who is the woman who won the mobster's affections? Y/N had read in a paper one morning. She felt… kind of relieved that he wasn't a playboy anymore.

It wasn't a good look on him.

---

Y/N was cleaning the counter with a rag when she heard the door opening and closing. Ugh, another customer. She looked up and grimaced as she saw one of the old, pervy bastards sitting in front of her, a smile on his face. "Good evening, sir, what can I get you?" She kept the annoyance from seeping into her voice.

He gave her his order and leaned forward, which caused Y/N to unconsciously lean back. "Change your mind today?" he smirked, picking up the glass just as Y/N set it down in front of him, causing their fingers to brush. She shuddered. "No," she replied politely, glancing around the room, hoping someone would come save her. As if. That's when their eyes met.

Y/N found herself staring at the man of her dreams, who was sitting in the corner of the bar with his friends. And he was staring straight back at her. Y/N gulped and turned away from him, instead focusing on the man in front of her who was shamelessly flirting with the woman who had to be at least 20 years younger than him.

"Stop flirting with my employee and let her do her job."

The entire bar froze the moment James Buchanan Barnes got up from his seat, heading towards Y/N. Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his cool but threatening tone as he stared at the pervert, his eyebrows raised. The bar was silent as the man gulped and backed away from the counter, running out of the door like a chicken. Y/N stared at the floor.

"Hey."

She looked up and audibly gulped again, wincing in embarrassment when she realized that he had to know how scared she was. "Mr Barnes," she greeted, though it came out more like a squeak as her voice cracked. Please, go away, don't stand so close to me, I can't take it, go away, she kept muttering in her head.

"You okay?" he asked gently, not wanting the poor woman to collapse from anxiety. Some sadistic part of him liked it that she was so afraid of him, but mostly, he just wanted to make her feel comfortable. "Yeah." Y/N relaxed a bit at his question when she realized he wasn't going to hurt or fire her.

"Good." Then he walked away like he hadn't just set Y/N's entire body on fire by talking to her. As he sat back down on his seat, he inwardly cursed himself for not asking her her name. I don't even know the name of the woman I have fallen head over heels for, nice going Barnes! Gah! He ran a hand through his hair, glaring at nothing in particular.

He stayed until it was closing time, and found out something so incredible that his heart soared at the information. Y/N was the only employee who stayed until closing time. Y/N groaned loudly in the seemingly empty bar as she swept the place, not noticing the mobster boss sitting in the dark corner, watching her.

"Fuck you, Y/N. Fuck. You. Literally. What was the fucking reason?!" Y/N grumbled to herself, her voice reverberating off the walls in the empty place. "He was just checking up on you. Why the fuck did you treat him like he was the monster?! You dumbass. Ugh, I'm gonna have to make it up to him; what if he fires me?!" Y/N couldn't help the tears.

"He checked up on you and no thank you. What an ungrateful little bitch you are, you… you fucking idiot," Y/N continued speaking through the tears. "Maybe a free drink when he comes back tomorrow? Hah, as if, he owns the fucking bar. What should I do? Sleep with him? As if. Fuck. Shit."

"How about we start by washing your mouth with a soapbar, doll?"

Y/N froze when she heard him. Oh God, he was still here. "M-Mr Barnes?" she stammered, turning towards the voice. Bucky got up from his seat and strode towards her, making sure to keep some distance between them as he stopped in front of her. "Do you always ramble to yourself while you work?" he questioned amusedly.

When she had started rambling, he was confused. Who was she talking about? Then, he connected the dots. At first he was a bit amused but as her speech continued, he couldn't take it. How can someone degrade themselves so much? Y/N couldn't answer him, her vocal cords tied in a knot in her throat.

"I asked you something, and I'm waiting for an answer." At the authoritative tone she looked up at him, her eyes wide. "I— uh, yeah, it's— it's, um, become a habit," she muttered, breathing heavily. What was he going to do to her? "You shouldn't cuss yourself out so much, doll," he frowned, crossing his arms. And without thinking, she replied, "Sorry."

"That man was clearly bothering you, I did what I had to do. I didn't expect anything in return. Sure, a thank you would've been nice," he teased lightly, "But please, never talk to yourself like that ever again, okay?" His gentleness turned something inside of Y/N and suddenly, she felt relaxed. Like she had known him for years.

"Okay. Oh, and, thank you." She gave him a smile so winsome that all he wanted to do was hold her against him and never let go. "Hold on, maybe there is something you can do." The smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. "What is it?" she asked him, blinking. "Can we talk? Maybe you can tell me about yourself, and I can get to know you better."

So she did. Both of them sat at the bar with Bucky's favorite beer poured in mugs, talking. Y/N told him about how she was a university student, and that she had taken the job because she was in need of money. "You aren't scared? A lot of shit happens here, doll," Bucky commented, sipping his beer. "I don't know… it doesn't faze me as much as it should."

"And me! I'm the most dangerous man in the city and yet, you agreed to sit here with me, alone." At that, a smile bloomed on Y/N's face, the beer getting to her head, loosening her up. She looked away from him, almost shyly. "You saved me today, Mr Barnes. How can I not trust the guy who saved me?" Bucky's heart started hammering in his chest.

"Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot," he spoke sincerely. "You're welcome! So, uh, I actually have to go to uni early tomorrow, so… I'd like to go home, please?" He immediately nodded at her words, helping her off the stool. He even helped her finish her chores before she locked the main door and turned around, smiling at Bucky.

"Well, this is it, I guess. Goodbye, Mr Barnes."

"Let me drop you home, please." And he did, pestering her until she agreed to get in his car. She insisted her apartment building was only a 15-minute walk away from the bar, but he wouldn't listen. "A lot can happen in 15 minutes, doll." And Y/N couldn't help but snort. "That's what she said." Her joke made him laugh so hard that he almost swerved the car into the sidewalk.

As Y/N stared at the laughing man, she felt tingly inside. Her feelings rushed to her; butterflies in her stomach. When they reached home, again, he insisted on dropping her off at her apartment, but Y/N declined. And this time, he didn't fight it. "Goodnight, Mr Barnes," she told him with a sweet smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

He had been such a gentleman that day, he deserved it. "Bucky will do, my love. Be safe, okay? We'll meet tomorrow." With that, he drove off.

And for the first time in months, Y/N went to sleep happy, giddy and absolutely satisfied.

So did Bucky.

---

After that one incident in the bar, Y/N and Bucky became close. When he was at the bar, Y/N was the center of his attention. He was the one who now sat in front of her, talking to her about his day and asking her about hers. "Tell me about your uni, doll," or, "Do you know what they did to me today? Ugh! Maniacs!"

Soon, everyone in the bar started giving them space. They knew the two were not sleeping together, but Barnes had, at last, found a female friend. How did they know the two were not sleeping together, you ask? Simple. Y/N still had a boyfriend. An abusive one, so she didn't tell Barnes.

After finding out about the events that had taken place at the bar that day between Y/N and Bucky, her boyfriend had reached new heights of jealousy and insecurity, not hesitating to raise a hand on his own girlfriend as he blatantly accused her of cheating on him with the mobster. It wasn't true by a long shot, and it hurt.

Y/N hadn't told Bucky about her boyfriend, because she knew that if she told him, he'd kill her boyfriend. She was about to break up with him anyway, so getting Bucky involved would only create more problems. A peaceful break up, and it was over. Unfortunately, peace was not involved on the day of the inevitable break up...

Bucky was already at the bar, but was grumpy since Y/N wasn't there. He was so desperate that he had asked one of her friends if she knew where the woman was. But the other woman could only shake her head, indicating that she didn't know. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his eyes trailing to the door the moment he heard it opening. He froze.

Everybody did.

Y/N was standing there, a very noticeable dark red patch on her white t-shirt. When she noticed that everyone was staring at her, especially Bucky, it made her nervous. Should've stayed at home. For a moment, she actually did consider going back out through the door but Bucky spoke up first. "Y/N, come here. Everyone out, bar's closed."

His tone was something she had never heard before. A mixture of annoyance, hurt, worry, but mostly anger. In another scenario, the scene of all the people scrambling out of the tiny door would've been extremely hilarious. But here, no one was laughing. Y/N stood frozen until the door closed behind her.

"I asked you to come here, doll."

Instinctively, she strode towards him, stopping just a few inches away. He stared down at her, jaw clenched. Being a mobster, he was used to seeing blood and could identify it easily. And it was definitely blood that was covering almost a sixth of Y/N's t-shirt. "Lift your shirt. Take it off, right now," he snarled.

Y/N, not wanting him to take his anger out on her, immediately ripped the t-shirt off of her, standing in front of him in her sports bra, a deep gash just under her left breast. Y/N flinched when his fingers came in contact with her wound and Bucky immediately retracted his arm. "What happened?" His tone changed. Now, it was simply full of hurt.

"He stabbed me." Bucky's hands balled into fists at his side. One name, all he needed her to do was give him a name and the bastard was dead, whether she liked it or not. "Who did?" "My boyfriend." Bucky went rigid at her words. All this time, she was taken? "You have a…?" She shook her head, letting her tears fall free. "Not anymore." That reassured him.

"I decided to break up with him today. Decided to do it before my shift here, so my job could distract me. He… he didn't like it. And he…" Y/N choked out through the tears. Bucky's body was boiling with anger. "Tell me his name right now." Y/N started feeling light-headed. "Bucky…" she whispered feebly, swaying on her spot. And he cursed loudly when she fell forward, unconscious.

He carried her out of the bar, put her in his car and drove above the speed limit to his place. He had a private infirmary at his mansion, where he knew Y/N would be the safest. Once he was home, not caring that his expensive suit was getting ruined by blood, he ran to the infirmary, Y/N in his arms. The doctors took her in for an operation and they had to admit—

They had never seen the mobster look so scared.

After he was sure Y/N was in good hands, Bucky went to the sitting room, where his friend, Sam, sat. "Pull out everything you can get on Y/N. Check everything. Social media— I need the name of her ex boyfriend." Sam got to work instantly, not wanting to aggravate the man. Turns out, he didn't have to search for long. "[Name]."

Sam told Bucky everything he could about the man. By the end, Bucky was seething. "Send some men over. Finish him." Again, Sam agreed without argument, rushing out of the room. And so, Bucky waited. He sat in the spacious sitting room all alone, holding his head in his hands, trying his best not to tear up.

---

"Bucky?"

It had been 6 hours since he brought her to his place. He startled and turned around to see Y/N standing at the door, leaning against it for support. This time, he did tear up and not caring about his dignity, he ran forward and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck, sobbing like a little child. "Bucky, I'm fine, I really am," Y/N insisted in vain.

"I almost lost you today," Bucky sniffled, pulling away from her. She wiped his tears off, giving him a small smile. After spending a lot of time with the man, she had come to realize that he was nothing but a big softie, who put on a façade 24/7. He cared about her like no one else. He was so good to her.

And finally, her feelings were justified.

"You didn't lose me, though. I'm right here," she grinned. Her grin made him smile and he took her face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Come here." Both of them walked into the room and he pulled her onto his lap, holding her close, thinking if he let go, she would turn to dust right in front of him.

"How bad is the wound?"

"Not that bad, actually, it was a kitchen knife." He moved to trace the wound through her t-shirt when he noticed it. She wasn't in her t-shirt, she was wearing one of his. This time, he didn't fight the urge. "God, I fucking love you so much, doll." Bucky grabbed her chin, pressing his lips to hers. She didn't fight it either.

"I… I love you too, Bucky."

She buried her face in his neck and he held her close, pressing tiny kisses to her cheek and forehead. "You're finally mine, baby girl. Ever since I saw you at the bar, I was smitten. Do you know what a torture it was for me?" he mumbled against her cheek. "Same. I, um…" He chuckled when he felt her skin warming against him.

"I'm going to treat you like the queen you are, baby."

"Aw, so cheesy. But flattering."

"Also, you're fired."

"Great, you ruined it."

"What? I'm the owner, I hire people. And you don't need the job anymore, you have me. I'll pay the university fees. You don't have to work at that horrible bar anymore."

"Bucky, you own the place."

"Still horrible."

"And also what are you, my sugar daddy?"

"Literally fuck off—"

"You know you love me."

"Fortunately, I do."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading. Leave a like if you enjoyed.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan headcanon #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr