#And live in cities you'll never see on screen

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly VI

~ part 6 of the Dolly series

pairing: changbin x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

synopsis: Being the CEO of a big company meant you were always buried with work, staying late at the office, never having time to yourself. Your employees have a habit of giving you funny gifts to make you get out and live your life a little, as they say. Even though you expect crazy gifts from them, you never expected to get something that would change your life forever.

wc: 8.0k

warnings: unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m)

~ divider by @bunnysrph

Another sigh passed your lips as you rubbed your temples, the screen in front of you blurring for a moment and making you close your eyes tightly. You leaned back in your chair to stretch, you've been sitting in the same position for hours.

"Wow." you muttered, realizing your legs were actually numb. It was time to get up, at least for a moment, you thought and stood up. You made your way to the big glass windows behind your chair and stared at the view of the city.

Here, on the top of it all stands your dream. You've worked hard to get to where you are, dedicating your entire life only to your career. You knew nothing else but work, yet sometimes it felt as if everything was about to crumble underneath your feet.

A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Come in." you said after clearing your throat.

"Miss, I brought you the papers you asked for." it was your assistant, Maxine. The poor girl had to stay behind with you every time and you made sure to pay her those extra hours well, feeling bad that you had to make her stay here on a Friday night.

You turned and smiled slightly at her, nodding towards your desk.

"You can leave them there. Thank you, Maxine." you said and she nodded, putting the big stack of papers on top of the other, smaller stack you were almost done with.

"You can go home, Maxine. There's no point in you being here plus it's Friday, you must have somewhere better to be than at work." you added and her eyes widened slightly.

"Are you sure miss?" she asked and you nodded.

"Of course, have a good weekend!" you said with a smile.

"Thanks, you too boss!" she smiled back and exited the office, leaving you alone with your thoughts and papers.

You glanced at the table, calculating how long you'll be here but then you noticed a light pink envelope sticking between the papers. With furrowed brows you came closer to the table, pulling the envelope out.

'From your faithful employees, consider this an early birthday gift to the best boss ever!'

You chuckled when you read the writing on it, your fingertips running over the various signatures of your employees. What did they have up their sleeve now?

You opened up the envelope and pulled out the little card inside, reading it quietly.

Hello,

my name is Changbin and I am your strong dolly.

I love going on gym dates and after that eating some good food! I enjoy watching movies so I hope you'll share your favorites with me.

Please be tender with me, even though I seem tough, I need someone to lean on too so don't forget to give me a hug.

Hope you will come to love me as much as I love you.

"What?" you chuckled then saw someone added something on the card.

'We got him delivered to your house, enjoy!'

No way. Did your employees buy you a sex doll?

Your face warmed up instantly. Those bastards, you chuckled to yourself, the nickname more of an endearment than an insult.

Maybe the papers could wait until tomorrow.

-

It was raining hard when you finally parked in front of your building, rushing inside with your bag shielding your head. You almost tripped over your legs, your heels making it hard to run.

The building was completely quiet as you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button 12. You looked down at your watch, it was almost 2am. You shook your head, impatient to see what the gift looked like.

There was a huge box in front of your apartment door and you made your way there quickly.

After unlocking your door, you dragged the box inside, almost falling over a few times. After quickly closing the door and throwing your heels off of your feet, you decided to open the box immediately, no more waiting.

"Oh. Look at that." your heart skipped a beat.

This Changbin doll definitely looked like a man you'd turn your head after if you saw him in the street. At least your employees seemed to know your taste.

At the same time, you were curious, you've never seen a doll that is so humanlike. Gulping, you kneeled down next to the box and reached out to touch his face.

"Tell me your skincare routine." you chuckled, playing with his hair a little.

You noticed a piece of paper stuck between his fingers so you grabbed it gently and looked at it.

My honey!

I chose a comfy outfit for us to enjoy a movie together!

Hope you'll love our first night together as much as I will!

Honey. You blushed profusely at the nickname.

Have I been single for so long that this got me going?, you asked yourself, feeling embarrassed.

Yet, you couldn't even remember the last time someone flirted with you. And if they did, it probably went over your head because you were only thinking about work 24/7. Even now, you had brought the papers home so you can finish everything during the weekend.

Your stomach growled and you stood up, holding the manual for the dolly as you heated up some dinner. You needed to eat healthier food, you knew that. But who has time for cooking when you're working 24/7?

You read the manual carefully, flipping the pages as you ate your dinner; leftovers from yesterday. Not ideal, but you had no other options at this moment. Your face started burning suddenly when you got to the section about what the doll was made for and what it can do.

"Oh my god." you quickly closed the manual with a little giggle. You glanced at the box, deciding to take a shower and get rid of your suit first.

When you were finally refreshed, feeling like a new person, you made your way back to your new doll.

"How do I get you out?" you pursed your lips. Yes, you did some yoga but you had no idea if you could lift up an entire human sized doll.

You pushed the box to your room, putting it next to your bed. With all the strength you could gather you managed to pull Changbin out of the box and place him on top of your covers with your body giving out and plopping down on top of him.

"Oh." you were surprised by the warmth of his body. You didn't really follow the latest technology developments, only using what you needed for work and daily life, but this must be some new and advanced technology you've never come across.

You crawled under the covers, putting them over Changbin too as you grabbed your phone and checked out the site with the dolls. Their primary function was to be used for pleasure but you felt like Changbin could be more than that. Maybe a cuddle buddy? You chuckled and pressed your cheek against his chest as you laid half of your body on top of him. You could feel the muscles underneath the clothes he was dressed in and it made your heart skip a beat.

You continued scrolling through the site, seeing the other doll models, some of them sold out. They were all charming in their own way, but you were sure you'd choose Changbin if you were buying one by yourself.

"Wow, only one of each?"

You scrolled all the way to the end and in the left-hand corner you saw very small letters saying: property of BIMT.

"BIMT?" it sounded so familiar, and you couldn't remember where you had heard that before.

You shrugged, too tired to think or look at your phone anymore so you put it aside and hugged your Changbin dolly, happy to have a warm body to hold during a usually lonely night.

You had never slept this well in your life, so well that you didn't even hear your alarm clock trying to wake you up.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed once your eyes opened and you noticed it was past 10am.

Usually, during the weekend you'd still wake up earlier, around 7am so you could go for a run and do your stretching or yoga session. Plus, the weekend was the only time you could clean up your apartment thoroughly.

What surprised you even more, was that you were turned on for some reason. You must've had some interesting dreams to wake up like this.

Embarrassment seeped into you as you looked at Changbin's face. You scanned around your room as if someone was watching you, which of course no one was. But you felt so awkward using the doll.

You propped yourself on your elbow and hovered over Changbin's face.

"Hello. Good morning." you waved in front of his face but of course he didn't even blink.

"How do I do this?" you chewed on your lip. You observed him for another moment before placing your palm on his chest and tentatively sliding it down. Your hand explored slowly and gently, working yourself up as you touched his defined muscles.

"Huge..." you gasped a little when you gripped at his bicep. Your body was heating up and so was his, the doll was getting excited. You read it in the manual but seeing it happen was something else. Licking your lips, your hand slid down more as you threw your leg over him, your knee brushing against his bulge.

"Oh." your eyes widened and you stopped for a moment to catch your breath, before sliding your hand down to touch him. Your doll was definitely big.

Something inside you snapped and you forgot about being embarrassed quickly as you started moving against his thigh. You whined, finding a good position to where you could straddle his thigh and continued your ministrations. The dolly seemed somehow... happy. Your cheeks warmed up suddenly, it felt like his attention was on you, like his eyes were actually looking at you. Your knee kept brushing against his erection, making him twitch in his pants.

"It's like you're alive." you whispered, mesmerized.

You bit on your lip and decided to rid him of his pants and underwear.

"Oh my." you slapped your hand against your mouth. "Changbin." you giggled after saying his name, it felt good to feel it rolling off of your tongue.

Taken by the moment, you got rid off your clothes and his shirt too, admiring his beautiful body. You wanted to take your time with him and kiss him everywhere, explore him with your hands but that would have to wait for another time when you're not this desperate to get off.

You hovered over him before sitting down, your wet pussy pressed against his hard cock.

"Ah." a little moan escaped your lips as you started grinding on him with slow and languid movements, enjoying the way Changbin's cock kept twitching against you like he wanted in.

Your embarrassment completely disappeared, turning into pure pleasure as your clit kept dragging against him, your pussy clenching to be filled up. You lifted your hips just a little to grab his cock and slowly push it in, even though he was bigger, you took him well like he was made just for you.

You put in the work as you bounced on top of him, your hands roaming on his belly and chest, across his perky nipples as you grabbed at him. He was heating up even more, matching the heat of your body and the hot atmosphere created inside your room. You looked at Changbin's face and gasped, it seemed as if he was smirking ever so slightly. Your pussy clenched at the thought of him being alive and touching you too so you sped up, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

"Binnie." you whimpered and he twitched hard. It was right there in the manual, just keep saying his name.

"Binnie." you said again, your movements becoming sloppier as you got more tired and closer to your high. "Changbin!" you groaned loudly once you exploded, riding your high on top of him as you gyrated your hips. Tears gathered in your eyes from the overstimulation you brought to yourself as you kept repeating his name until he exploded inside you, filling you up with ropes of warm cum.

"Fuck." you cursed, lifting off of him, feeling all sticky and embarrassed again.

"I must be crazy." you shook your head and ran to your bathroom to get cleaned up. Of course, you cleaned your dolly too and then looked at his face more closely, biting on your lip and trying to see if there were any changes in his expression.

"You need a hug, right?" you said before putting your arms around Changbin. It felt so comforting to be wrapped around him.

Your weekend was mostly uneventful as always, but this time you had Changbin watching over you as you cleaned around your apartment. You managed to take him everywhere by putting him on your office chair with wheels.

"You could help, you know?" you grunted before continuing to vacuum the living room.

Changbin's eyes followed you while you cleaned and while you did your yoga. He watched as you sat hunched over your computer in your home office and worked, typing quickly and going over all the papers you brought home. He watched you struggling with the groceries and cursing quietly.

He wished he could help.

~

Monday came around too quickly and you rolled out of bed reluctantly, not wanting to separate from Changbin's warm body.

Spring was around the corner, but it was still cold in the mornings and you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed all day. But, you had a really important meeting today and you couldn't afford to be late. You were in a frenzy, getting dressed quickly as you had almost overslept through all your alarms.

"You're making it hard for me to leave my bed." you smirked at Changbin, shaking your head slightly as you grabbed your bag.

"I'll see you later, cutie." you kissed his lips and practically skipped all the way to your car.

Was it pathetic that a doll made you feel this happy?, you thought. Maybe it did, but who cares, you weren't harming anyone plus it was a gift and you should be thankful for it.

As soon as you arrived to your office, one of your employees, Tina, smirked at you.

"Good morning, boss! Did you like our gift?" she asked and you blushed profusely immediately.

"I really did. Thank you." you said and she chuckled.

"If we land this deal, you promised to take some time off. I hope you still mean that." she said, walking with you. Everyone knew you barely took time off, they'd have to pry you off of your desk and force you to finally rest.

"When we land this deal. Not if." you smirked at her, saying hello to a few more other employees as you passed them by.

"Good morning!" Maxine greeted you cheerfully. "All the reports for the meeting are ready on your desk and I prepared the presentation room for you."

"Oh, always so fast." you chuckled.

"Just keeping up with you, boss." she winked, following you into the office. You left all your stuff there and quickly looked through the reports, having already studied them, this was going to be a piece of cake for you.

Where you were shy in your personal life, at work you were the complete opposite, your ambition and drive brought you to high places and you had no problem with biting hard and showing off your skills and knowledge.

There were at least twelve people in the room and you took a deep breath in as you stood in front of them. Maxine nodded at you with a thumbs up.

The presentation went smoothly and the partners were satisfied with your results and conclusions, the deal has been made.

"Congratulations, boss! Now you can take your vacation!" Maxine said and you laughed.

"Well, maybe I should stay a little bit more to-"

"No, no. You need some wildness in your life away from all the seriousness, suits and papers, hm?"

"Maxine is right. If anyone deserves this vacay, it's you." Tina agreed and you smiled.

"I hope you two know that I will be checking in all the time." you waved your finger and both of them laughed.

"Of course." Tina nodded and you took her to the office since she'd be taking your place while you're away. The rest of the day passed by fairly quickly, even with you staying longer as always. A zap of electricity ran through your body when you remembered someone was home, waiting for you and your undivided attention.

Changbin.

"Maxine, tell Tina I got all the reports ready for our new partners and if she needs anything she can call me any time. Same goes for you." you rushed out and she looked at you with her brows lifted.

"Of course. Have a good time on your vacay!" she said, chuckling because this was the first time you were leaving before her.

~

It was raining again when you ran into your building, forgetting to bring an umbrella so you used your bag as a shield from the water once more. The first thing you did after shucking your shoes off and throwing your bag aside was run to Changbin.

He was in the same position you left him, leaned on your headboard in your bed, tucked in with a blanket.

"Hey there." you smiled and grabbed his face, kissing his lips. You had missed him all day.

"We are going on a vacation." you nodded to him with a smile. You had to admit, you felt kinda excited to finally be away from work and your repetitive routine. You just wished Changbin would come to life and enjoy the break from every day stress with you.

The next day, everything was prepared, the bag you packed was in the trunk, the tank was filled up and most importantly Changbin was in the passenger seat, strapped in and ready. You were going to drive over to your old house, where your parents used to take you for vacation when you were a kid. It was a bit out of town, a little house close to the lake. It used to be different before, there were more things to do there but you heard that some rich guy bought off most of the people who lived there so he could own the land.

Your little house was away from that area, perfectly in the middle of nowhere. Just what you needed to get your mind off of work. You got into the car and put on your favorite playlist before you started driving.

The tall city buildings soon turned into seemingly never-ending fields. You felt better instantly upon seeing the nature all around you. The sun was beating down on your car and you decided to open up the windows and let the air in as you drove and sang. Your eyes kept flitting towards Changbin, his pretty face and the way the wind kept playing with his hair. He looked so soft and sweet in those moments, making your good mood become even better.

Maybe someone would call you crazy for taking your sex doll to a vacation with you but he was more than that. You had a feeling he would be.

You drove for hours, it was almost dark when you finally parked in front of the old house. It was a little worn out since no one came out here anymore, especially after your father died due to illness and your mother had moved back to her hometown, taking care of your grandma. You visited them whenever you could but you were always swamped with work, you barely had time for yourself.

You put your bag inside first but getting Changbin in was a challenge that you somehow managed to conquer with all the strength you gathered.

"Oh my god." you huffed when you finally placed him on the sofa. "Ugh." you scrunched up your nose, realizing you have to do some cleaning up before anything else.

You got to work, cleaning up the place as you listened to some music and danced around, making the annoying chore more fun. Changbin watched you from the couch, a shadow passing over his eyes before they sparkled just for a moment. Of course, you didn't see it being too into your performance.

After cleaning up and filling up the fridge with some groceries you brought in a portable one, you decided to take a shower and change.

"Binnie, are you hungry?" you asked your sweet dolly and you could swear his eyes moved for a moment.

You tilted your head and stared him for a while, finally deciding you just imagined it.

"I guess you are." you chuckled and moved to the kitchen to prepare some dinner.

It was weird spending the afternoon cooking and sipping on wine, listening to music without a care in the world, knowing you don't have to go into work tomorrow. Or bring work to your house. Which reminded you to call Tina.

"You barely even left and you're worried already?" she chuckled.

"Just making sure everything is okay."

"Of course! I got everything under control." she assured you but you still wanted a recap, the perfectionist inside you craving to know that everything was indeed going well.

"Are you having fun though?" she asked after the report and you looked around the sparkly clean house, your eyes then landing on Changbin.

"Definitely." you said.

"Well, take care boss. We need you refreshed once you come back!"

"Of course. Have a good day, Tina."

"You too!"

You hung up and sat down to eat, looking up at Changbin a few times. After your meal you made your way to the couch, you couldn't wait to cuddle up to him.

"Let's see if there's any signal here." you muttered, turning the tv on. Luckily, the signal was good, even better than it used to be before, surprising you a little. You shrugged it off and put your legs in Changbin's lap, your head on his chest. Your own personal teddy bear.

The heat of his body and the relaxed state you were in slowly brought warmness in your navel, spreading throughout you and dripping on your panties. You bit on your lip and nuzzled into his neck, kissing his skin. Your hands started roaming his chest, the muscles you admired and liked so much. Your lips traveled on his skin and you stripped his shirt so you could continue leaving gentle kisses all over him. You unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down and then sliding them off of him with his underwear.

The sight of Changbin's cock all hard and leaking for you made you salivate, your heart beating hard against your chest. You wanted to taste him, feel the weight of him on your tongue so you kneeled down between his legs, sticking your tongue out and licking a stripe along his length.

"Oh." you were deliciously shocked when you realized he tasted sweet. It spurred you on to continue and you wrapped your lips around him, sucking on his tip and tasting more of his pre-cum. You struggled taking all of him in as you slid down, wrapping your hand around the base.

You knew Changbin probably wouldn't cum this way, since your dolly loved hearing his name moaned out before climaxing so you were doing this more for your own fun and enjoyment, revelling in the way he twitched inside your hot mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down for a while, making yourself gag a few times when you pushed in too far, your panties getting progressively more soaked. You released him with a pop and leaned back to look at him.

"Need you, Binnie." you whimpered before stripping and sitting on his lap. You wished he would reciprocate, you yearned to be touched by him. Closing your eyes, you adjusted and grabbed his length, slowly pushing it in and sitting down on him until he bottomed out inside you.

You wrapped your arms around Changbin so you could be as close to him as you can before you started moving on him slowly, feeling every inch of him filling you up and stretching your pussy perfectly.

"Binnie." you moaned out as you fucked on him slowly, feeling him twitch inside you immediately.

"Whoops." you giggled and sped up, chasing your high that has been building up ever since the moment you tasted him. The tip of Changbin's cock kept brushing against your spot every time you smacked your hips down, making you whimper and clench around him.

"Changbin!" with a loud whimper of his name you came all around him, making him finish inside you as you rode your high and held onto him, your sensitive nipples brushing against him deliciously.

"I'll be right back." you said as you stood up.

You cleaned yourself and your doll before getting dressed. You only had him for a few days but you already felt like you couldn't live without him. He was giving you some sort of comfort that you haven't felt in a long time.

"I wish you could go on a walk with me now." you sighed after calming down a little and drinking some water. It was dark out and you weren't really comfortable with walking around the lake and in the forest completely alone so you decided it would be smarter to do that in the morning.

That night you cuddled up with Changbin again, feeling happy that you brought him with you.

~

Early in the morning, you already had your coffee and quick breakfast before checking in on Tina and Maxine. You couldn't help it even though you knew that all your employees were more than capable, it was you who hired them after all.

"I'll be back soon, Binnie." you kissed your dolly, tucking him in with a blanket and leaving the tv on for him.

You walked the familiar path from your house to the lake, knowing it like the back of your hand. It almost stayed the same as it was, the only difference is that it seemed more quiet, abandoned. A few of the nearby houses were almost completely fallen apart, the wood ruined by the rain and the wind. It made you a little sad to see a place once so lively devoid of everything.

That's when you noticed something peculiar, right as you started on your way towards the forest. It was all too quiet. It seemed like there was no insect, bird or any kind of animal nearby. Usually, there were ducks in the lake, you remembered feeding them with your parents and you also remember running away screaming from all sorts of insects when you were a kid.

"Hm." you mused out loud as you continued walking. It felt a little eerie, the hairs on the back of your neck standing.

Then you heard it, a humming sound. Your brows furrowed as you followed the sound cautiously.

You didn't expect to run into a huge fence built around a building you were sure wasn't there before, because there used to be multiple houses and a children's park there. You squinted your eyes, trying to see if there was someone there but all you saw were windows with bars on them and darkness on the inside.

Then you noticed a familiar logo on the side of the building.

"Where have I seen that?" you wondered out loud.

The humming stopped suddenly, making your eyes ring as you swallowed. Fear clawed up from your stomach to your throat and you turned on your heel, something inside you telling you to run.

You didn't stop running until you got to the house, bursting in loudly, closing and locking the door quickly. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest and your eyes landed on Changbin instantly.

Making your way to him fast, you crumbled into his arms. You tried to even out your breath and calm down, all the while asking yourself who bought all the land, why was there a fence, what was the humming sound, why was that logo familiar to you?

You decided to take a relaxing bath and make some yummy lunch to forget about the weirdness of your morning.

"Oh, Binnie I am so glad you're here. Without you I'd feel so lonely." you told your dolly while you cooked. His eyes moved until they were looking directly at you, his fingers twitching against the couch, but you didn't notice, concentrated on making the food.

You spent the rest of the day inside the house and cuddled up to Changbin again that night.

You slept well until your dreams were invaded by the humming sound from earlier and it seemed as if it was louder, closer, vibrating against your body. You were confused, still on the verge of sleep, eyes still closed as your body shook.

"W-what?" you croaked out, it was as if something was shaking you. Your eyes snapped open and you realized it was Changbin, he was... vibrating?

You reached for the lamp quickly, panic rushing through your veins when suddenly he took a desperate breath in, his head turning towards you.

You shrieked, backing away and falling off the bed.

"W-what the fuck?!" you backed away until you hit the wall.

"W-water. P-please." his voice sounded raspy and you gasped, standing up and staring at him. Was this supposed to happen? There was nothing about the dolls talking and needing water in the manual.

"Please." Changbin looked at you desperately and you nodded, running downstairs before coming back up with a water bottle.

"I'm sorry." he apologized as soon as he chugged the bottle down.

"F-for what?" you asked, standing on a distance.

"Scaring you. This humming noise. It makes me tickle on the inside. It itches, it woke me up." he explained.

"You can hear that?" you asked, coming a little closer to him.

"No, I can feel it." he said. "Don't be scared of me."

"I'm- I'm not, just confused." you let out a chuckle at the absurd situation. "The manual never said anything about you coming to life."

"The manual." Changbin scoffed.

"What?" you asked and he shook his head.

"I wish I could remember who made me and who wrote the manual." he answered as you sat on the bed.

"Do you remember anything?" you asked.

"My friends? They were with me before. I don't know where they are now, all I know is I miss them." he sighed.

"Are these your friends?" you asked as you pulled up the dolly site on your phone.

"Yes! That's them." Changbin leaned in to look at the pictures. "This one." he pointed to a doll named 'Chan'. "He was the first. He took care of us after something happened. I- I can't remember what happened, but I know it was painful."

"Ugh, the humming again!" Changbin jolted, hugging himself.

"Hey, hey, calm down. We can leave right away if it's bothering you this much, don't worry." you placed your hand on his arm, trying to calm him down.

"Really?" he looked at you with sweet pitiful eyes, making your heart melt.

"Of course." you nodded and stood up, grabbing your bag and packing up immediately.

"You took all of this with a very calm attitude." Changbin scratched his head.

"I'm used to crisis, it happens at work." you said, packing up quickly. "I wouldn't be where I am if I let my emotions interfere in situations like this."

"That's what I admire, you're so dedicated to your work." Changbin said, slowly standing up, his legs wobbling a little. You paused your movements and looked up at him.

"You were aware of everything happening since you came to me?" you asked and he nodded sheepishly.

"Oh." you gulped, your face warming up. Now, that was a situation that threw you off just a little.

"I, um, I'm hungry." Changbin said and you chuckled.

"There's food downstairs, you can heat it up and eat all of it while I get everything ready for us to leave."

"Thank you." he smiled.

"No need." you answered, still feeling a little embarrassed about the fact that he was aware of everything you did to him during the last few days.

You managed to grab all your things and pack them up, turning off everything right as Changbin finished eating.

"Let's go." you said and he stopped you before you opened the door.

"Are you sure it's safe to go out? It's the middle of the night." he noted.

"I think we'd be safer in the car than staying in here?" you said and he sighed.

"Okay then, let's leave."

As soon as you walked out, you could hear the humming noise more clearly as if it had gotten louder during the night.

"I can't take it." Changbin started scratching at his body again.

"Get in the car quickly."

Luckily, you had enough gas to last to the first gas station so you buckled up and hit the pedal, getting the hell away from that creepy place.

Changbin felt better the more distance you put between the car and the lake.

A few days later, since you were still on your vacation, you were enjoying getting to know Changbin.

It was as if he was human and lived an entire life, even though he couldn't remember it at all. He could only put together bits and pieces, talking mostly about his friends and some disaster that happened, an awful feeling filling him up as he tried to remember more of it. All he could think of was Chan who tried to protect him and the other dolls. They were all alive then.

"Do you think they came to life too?" you asked that afternoon as the two of you cuddled, some movie playing in the background but you weren't paying attention to it.

"I would hope so. I wish we could find them." he sighed.

"Maybe we can. I could pull some connections."

"Really? You'd do that?" he smiled instantly, sitting up excitedly.

"Of course. Look, you probably heard me..." you grimaced but continued. "When I said I'm happy to have you, I was really lonely before and I was actually hoping you'd come to life."

"Does that mean I'm your boyfriend now?" Changbin giggled and you melted on the spot.

"Yes." you nodded and he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, making you squeal and chuckle.

You were sure he was made just for you.

~

Making your way from a refreshing shower, you didn't expect to be pinned to the wall by Changbin as soon as you walked into your room.

"B-Binnie!" you eyes widened, a zap of electricity running through your body instantly, making you feel aroused in the matter of milliseconds.

"I've wanted to do this from the moment I saw you." he said lowly, making you gulp as you stared into his darkened eyes. He was silently asking for your permission and you nodded ever so slightly, your heartbeart speeding up.

Changbin's lips quirked up in that cute smirk you adored on him, his hands sliding down your arms to the towel wrapped around your body. He undid the knot and let it fall to the floor, his eyes raking all over your exposed body.

You felt like your breath got caught in your throat when Changbin leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. Time stopped for a moment before he brought you back to earth with his hands on your chest, squeezing your breasts as he started moving his lips against yours. You parted your lips to let him in, he was sweet and hot at the same time, making your body yearn for his so you arched into him.

Smirking against your lips, Changbin let his hands travel lower, until they touched your thighs. You shivered as he kept kissing you, his fingertips ghosting on your inner thigh. Your moans were muffled against his lips and he kissed you harder before leaning back, letting his hand rest between your thighs as he touched your pussy.

"So wet for me." he smirked.

"B-Binnie, please." you whimpered.

"Please what, honey?" he kept smirking as you whined.

"I need to feel you." you whispered, your cheeks heating up.

"I need to feel you too." he couldn't really tease you for too long, the more he slid his fingers against your pussy, bringing the wetness up to your clit, the more it made him twitch in his pants.

You were overpowered by want and your hands flew to his shirt. It didn't take long for him to be as naked as you were. He was already hard and dripping, eager to bring you pleasure.

Changbin's arms gripped at the back of your thighs. "Jump." he smirked and you gasped, jumping up while he helped you, wrapping your legs around him. The tip of his cock rubbed against you, making you clench.

"H-here?" you whispered and he smiled.

"Why not?" Changbin whispered back and you held onto him tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck, fingertips grazing at his upper back.

"Okay." you whined as he pressed into you, his tip slipping between your folds.

"Mm, so good." he groaned, pushing in and you welcomed him, shaping around him perfectly as he bottomed out.

"Binnie." you moaned out, your nails digging into his skin.

"D-don't say my name yet." he gripped at your hips and you bit on your lip, trying to hold in your desperation. Changbin slowly started to move, his cock spreading your pussy apart deliciously.

"A-ah!" you whimpered as his tip brushed against your spot with each languid thrust. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss as you held onto him, trying to bring your hips closer to him.

"M-more." you whined.

"More?" he breathed out, his voice shaky. He was holding back.

"Please Binnie, fuck me harder, please!" you begged desperately, your pussy clenching around him and making him inhale sharply.

"As you wish, honey." he smirked a little before all hell broke loose when his hips started snapping into yours with vigor. He knocked the breath out of your lungs as you scratched at his skin, your entire body shaking from the force he fucked you with.

You couldn't help it, you were moaning so loudly, not even caring if your neighbors could hear you as Changbin kept fucking into you hard, the tip of his cock brushing against your spot every time he pushed in deep. You held onto him for dear life, you couldn't even feel your legs in that moment.

His little desperate moans filled up your ears, making you even more wet than before, adding to the high that was building up inside you.

"Are you gonna cum, honey?" he gripped your ass hard as he kept fucking you.

"Y-yes, gonna cum for you, Binnie!" you felt him twitch inside you and that was all you needed before you exploded, squirting on him and making him whine. His name kept spilling from your lips and his hips stuttered as he came, exploding inside you and filling you up.

"Wow." he breathed as he finally released you and you shook, holding onto him. Changbin lifted you up in his strong arms and placed your shivering body on the bed.

"I'll be right back, honey." he said and you nodded, still speechless.

Changbin came back to clean you up, bringing you a bottle of water.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked as you were silent.

"No, no, you were perfect Binnie." you smiled, reaching out to touch his face. "So good, that I'm just ready to sleep now." you added and he chuckled, puffing his chest out with pride.

You rolled your eyes playfully as your head hit the pillow and Changbin tucked you in much like you did to him, before he laid down next to you.

"Hey, y/n?" he whispered after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, Binnie?"

"I love you." he said and your heart skipped a beat. It was unbelieveable how quickly you came to love him too.

"I love you." you whispered back, kissing him before the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

Your days with Changbin were passing by like a breeze, and pretty soon you were already back to work. All your employees noted that you're glowing and that you've never looked happier, thinking it was the break that did that when in fact it was love.

Changbin had also managed to pull you out of the house more, the two of you going to the gym and enjoying active dates and you couldn't remember the last time you had so much fun with someone, let alone a boyfriend. It's like he knew exactly what you needed, sometimes even before you knew it.

He loved watching you cook, a lovesick look in his eyes as he propped his face up on his palm and just observed you.

"It'd be nice if you helped." you smirked, breaking him out of his trance.

"Yes, in a moment." he smiled then, grabbing your hand and stopping whatever you were doing as he gently pulled it towards him, pressing his lips on the top of your hand. You chuckled, goosebumps littering your skin as he stood up. Changbin stood behind you, enveloping his arms around you, his hands covering yours.

"This is not helping." you giggled when his breath tickled your neck.

"No?" he smirked, pressing himself into you.

You knew you weren't going to cook that dinner any time soon.

You felt lucky to have him, but there was one problem. You had tried getting some information through your workplace, about all the other dolls but whoever had sent them to the buyers, erased every trace of where the dolls have been sent. You couldn't track any of them and Changbin couldn't remember anything, no matter how hard he tried.

You kept thinking about the lake house, the humming noise and the weird building, the eerie quietness of the entire forest. It made the hair on the back of you neck stand, shivers running down your spine.

You tried researching it on the internet but came up with nothing.

Then one day, there was a call.

"Hello?" you answered with an unsure voice, the unknown number throwing you off. Especially because the call was on your private phone and not many people had that number. If it was business or anything of that sort they'd call you on your work cell.

Changbin looked up from the clothes he was folding and you shrugged.

"Is this miss L/n?" a monotone male voice asked.

"Yes, this is she." you answered.

"I understand you have Changbin dolly."

"Ugh. Yes." you looked at Changbin with a frown, and he came closer to listen.

"Well, we're sorry to inform you but the dolls have all malfunctioned and will need to be taken back. The money will be returned." you wondered how they knew the doll was gifted to you and how they had your number.

"What do you mean by 'malfunctioned'?" you asked suspiciously as Changbin eyed you nervously.

"We cannot discuss such matters unless you are part of the staff." the monotone voice answered.

"The staff?" your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Please, don't defy our command. We will come pick up the doll. Goodbye."

Click.

"Hello?" you stood there confused as Changbin's eyes filled with fear.

"I- I don't wanna go back there!" he panicked suddenly, grabbing at you.

"Hey, it's okay! We will find a way for you to stay. I don't want them to take you away either." you pulled Changbin into a hug and he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you a little.

"I feel this fear inside me, I don't know why. That voice-"

"Do you recognize it?" you asked and Changbin nodded.

"I do. But I can't remember who it is. There is like... different faces in my head all coming up at the same time." he pursed his lips in thought.

"Okay, we could drive up to my mother and grandma tomorrow?" you suggested.

"How are you going to explain me to them?"

"I'll just say you're my boyfriend, none of the doll talk, okay? We met at a gym or something." you said and Changbin chuckled, caressing your face.

"How convenient." he joked.

"Hey, it's believeable!" you defended and he giggled.

"Fine, fine, it is." he agreed as the cogs inside your brain already started turning.

You had to plan out how to avoid work because you haven't told your coworkers anything about the doll they gifted you coming to life.

You just hoped you could get Changbin safely out of here.

Early in the morning you were already packing together with Changbin but a ring on your doorbell stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Who's here at 6:30am?" you frowned, walking towards the door.

After opening it and unlocking the door, Changbin trailing behind you, you gasped in shock. There were six men in suits standing on your doorway.

"We came to collect the doll." one of them said.

"You can't!" you yelled.

"Why?" the man asked.

"He is alive, he has free will and he doesn't want to go with you! Now leave, before I sue your entire company!" you tried threatening them but they just exchanged silent looks.

"Step aside. We are going to collect the doll."

"Over my dead body." you got angry but Changbin quickly interfered.

"Y/n, please be careful." he begged as the men stepped inside and you launched your body aside, grabbing the baseball bat you kept near the door.

Changbin gasped as they grabbed him, no matter how strong he was they somehow seemed stronger. He looked up and saw you swinging the bat at one of them men, his eyes wide.

The bat collided with one of the suited men's face, fear rushing through your veins when a piece of his skin came flying off, revealing wires beneath the facade of a human face.

You shrieked, stepping back and the man looked at you before pulling out a huge syringe and walking towards Changbin.

"Stop it! No!" you screamed but the other men grabbed you, throwing the bat aside and holding you back as you thrashed around, trying to escape their hold.

The syringe was plunged into Changbin's neck and he immediately slumped down. You kept yelling at them but they dragged him away, slamming your own door in your face.

You had no idea what to do in that moment. Your body slid down on the floor as you sobbed. They took away Changbin from you, the man who loves you. Anger bubbled up inside you and then you remembered.

Property of BIMT.

You scrambled to stand up and ran to your laptop, quickly typing it in.

"The logo!" you gasped, remembering the building near the house lake. You knew the exact location they'd take Changbin.

"Bang Institute of Modern Technology? Ugh, as in Helena Bang the famous scientist?" you clicked on the page.

You skimmed through the article, finding out that Helena had died five years ago from a mysterious illness, all her research and work falling into the hands of a rich man whose name was doctor Park.

"I'm coming to get you Binnie, don't you worry."

~

In his room, Felix heard commotion outside of the door. He rushed to it, his palms pressed against the cold metal as he peeped through the slit.

A few of the suited men were carrying Changbin towards another room, opposite of Felix's.

"Changbin! Changbin, can you hear me?!" Felix yelled desperately and one of them turned towards the sound, lifting his fist and pounding loudly against Felix's door, scaring him.

"Be quiet, number six!" the man yelled. Felix backed away with tears gathering in his eyes.

What will they do to them now?

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts @minniesverse @skzdreamer13 @0325ale @j-ji-jia @shannthewriter @mhluvie @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d @stayjinnie @portgasdbru @lilgothhishhh @selinia86 @felixsbabe @staytinyluva @sadroses98 @katexstay @gnabnahcsworld @hazelbazil @iwannahugchangbin @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @skzfelixlove @skzjen @syedazarintasnim @geektacularmommom-blog @cookiesnmilfx @kayleefriedchicken @stxt-bby @strykdsstanot8 @hyunjinhwang2018 @binniesbabygirl @hyunjiniretti @linavc @julciaqwerty @salemluvsmusic @diipsy

[humanpurposes]

Hi hiiii I couldn’t resist to not slide into your inbox and request a Christmas fic based on this prompt with a Aemond who isn’t used to his girl’s flirty behavior and gets flustered soo easily👀 you can totally ignore this if you don’t like it<3333

“Since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?” “Sorry, what?”

HI RUE ✨ Kinda put my own spin on this but I'm sure you'll love it <3

Can I Ride You Instead?

modern!Aemond x reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, Aemond being a workaholic while his girl has needs

A/n: It's tiiiiime, happy 1st December!!

Main Masterlist // Christmas Masterlist

One more night in King’s Landing. You look out from the window at the lights in the city; street lamps; lively pubs; offices that have been abandoned until new year; and all the festive lights lining the highstreets. Conquest Street is your favourite place to be this time of year. You love the displays in the shop windows, the market in the square, the little wooden huts selling scarves and handmade jewellery, the smell of mulled wine, sugar and cinnamon, almost tangible in your nose and on your tongue. What you wouldn’t give to be there right now.

Aemond’s apartment is bleak by comparison. He doesn’t see the point in decorations, not when he’ll be spending Christmas at his family’s estate– at Dragonstone, Christmas is Alicent’s territory. Aemond’s place is clean, lit by lowlights with no bursts of colour or fairy lights and no tree.

He’s sitting at the dining table. The cold glare of his laptop shines over his face and reflects in the lenses of his glasses.

This boy never takes a break.

Term technically doesn’t end until tomorrow but everyone you know has already gone home to make the most of the break. Not Aemond. He wants to stay for as long as possible. He doesn’t talk about his family much, but you can put pieces together. You booked your own train ticket home according to his because you could think of nothing worse than leaving him alone on the run up to Christmas.

“Sit down, you’re making me anxious,” Aemond says, not looking up from the screen.

He’s been on the verge of irritation all day. You’re in the kitchen trying to make hot chocolate? Too much noise, he says. You’re at the dining table wrapping presents for your parents? Too distracting.

You take slow steps across the floor, behind his chair, draping yourself over his shoulders. He’s working on some project for an internship and simultaneously trying to get ahead on the research for his dissertation.

You love how he looks when he’s focused, the frown that means he’s utterly absorbed in what he’s doing. It’s not quite so endearing when he could be focusing on you instead.

Your arms wrap around him. He pushes his glasses up and puts a hand over yours, a featherlight touch. You want more.

“It’s getting late you say,” letting your lips ghost over his temple.

“It’s not even six.”

“You should take a break. We could order food?”

“Yeah, when I’m done with this, I just need to–”

“Aemond.”

Your arms fall away from him and he looks up at you with a slow breath. His expression is soft, his eyes slightly hooded, his lips fallen. He knows he's upset you.

“Aemond, it’s our last night together before Christmas.”

He shuts the lid of his laptop and leaves his glasses on the table. As much as you love how he looks with them on, there’s something about the unobstructed view of his face that never fails to take your breath away. Especially his eyes, one blue, one glass and made to imitate a sapphire, framed in a neat scar running down the left side of his face, an injustice of childhood.

He leans forward, snaking his hands to your waist, pulling you in towards him. 

It’s an unfair move really. Suddenly all you want to do is run your fingers through his silver hair, tilt his chin up, hold his face in your hands.

“You’re right, darling,” he says, stroking his thumbs in circles where they fall against your belly. You feel the pressure of it through the knit jumper you wear. “Let’s go out. Pub? Restaurant? What’s the market thing on Conquest Street, didn’t you mention that a while ago?”

“It’s a bit late to go out now, I’d have to get ready.”

“We’ll stay in and watch a Christmas movie then, yeah?”

“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for something festive.”

He makes a quick face. Not that long ago you’d tried to get him to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and he was far from impressed. What horrors will you have in store for him next? “Whatever you want. I want whatever you want.”

You coax him to the sofa, big and plush and expensive. Aemond throws a blanket over the two of you and with a few taps of his phone arranges the food. Without much deliberation you put on Love Actually, meeting Aemond’s eye with a wide grin.

He hides his face in his hands but survives the ordeal.

By the time the credits are rolling it’s not particularly late, but you’re dreading the morning. You’ll have to wake up early, pack a bag, then you and Aemond will go to the train station together and go your separate ways until the new year. A whole two weeks apart.

You cozy up to him, breathe in the smell of his aftershave.

“What now, another film?” He asks, trying to find the remote.

Another idea pops into your head. “We could do something else?”

Aemond catches your eye, trying not to smile. “Now let me think, what else could we possibly do, hmm?” He’s awful at playing coy and has been since the moment you met him. He’s too observant, too intent on the details to play dumb.

“Well,” you say, tracing fingertips along the material of his sweats, over his thigh, “since it is the season, and I can’t ride Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?”

His mouth bursts into a messy smile. “Sorry, what?”

You mean to huff out of annoyance but it comes out like a laugh. “I’m trying to be cute!”

Aemond takes your chin in his fingers and your body freezes. “You really don’t need to try,” he says, and leans in to capture your lips with his.

The way Aemond kisses makes you melt every time. He’s slow and commanding, like he’s savouring every precious moment. His hands slide underneath your jumper, dragging along your skin to hold your waist. The promise of what will come next puts you on edge.

Sparse gasps for breath hum in the back of your throat. Aemond smiles against your lips and holds you tighter, dragging you to straddle his lap. He pulls away from your mouth, to your frustration, and places a wide palm at your navel, the waist of your jeans. “Stand up, need to get these off.”

You move off him and go to undo the top button, but Aemond grabs your wrists and pulls you closer. You watch as he smiles slightly, his fingers moving to undo the button and the zip. He’s teasing you, drawing out the anticipation as much as he can. 

You sigh in relief once they’re off, dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside and coming back to straddle Aemond. 

His hands settle at your thighs. “Look at you, so eager, hmm?”

“You can’t blame me, you’ve been ignoring me all day,” you say, grinding your clothed core against the bulge in his sweats. You can be teasing too, with drawn out movements of your hips.

Aemond’s jaw tightens. You can see he’s trying to stay smug. “Well, we’re fixing that now.”

You press a kiss to his cheek while your fingertips curl at the top of his sweats, dragging them down enough to free his cock. He’s taught you what he likes and if you were feeling patient you might have come to your knees before him, but at the slightest touch of Aemond’s fingertips against the fabric over your clit, you know what you need.

He pulls your panties to the side, dragging you along his leaking cock with a hand at your lower back. He’s hard and you’re achingly wet. He holds you where he wants you, lining himself up to pull you down onto his length. The stretch is sharp and sweet, hollowing you out and filling you perfectly. 

Aemond’s head falls against the back of the sofa as you sink down.

“Does it feel good?” you tease him.

He’s breathless, helplessly watching the space where your bodies meet. “Fuck, perfect little pussy– feels so good,”

You cradle your arms around his head as you ride him, unhurried, hands restless as you feel his hair and the sides of his face, along his jaw.

Aemond hardly has to do anything, as soon as his fingertips are on your clit you feel your spine straighten and something inside you tighten. He circles over you lazily, watching your face with a soft, admiring kind of amusement. 

“Right there,” you whisper, “don’t fucking stop.”

“Are you gonna come for me, darling?”

Your thighs are burning at the effort but you don’t care. You’re so close, so close.

“Beg me,” Aemond murmurs.

A slew of slurred and breathless pleas fall from your lips. You can feel the slickness between your legs, how easily he glides over you, how deep his cock reaches inside of you, pushing against the right spot.

Aemond hums as he grabs your hips with his free hand, fucking you faster and harder until you’re falling apart, convulsing, melting. 

You fall against Aemond, holding each other closer as you wait for the deliriousness to fade away. Suddenly the air is unbearably cold. You cling to Aemond, to his warmth, content in his arms.

“Happy with your ride?” Aemond asks. You can hear him grinning.

You lift your head and rest it against his shoulder. The light of the TV catches in his features, his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, the details of grey in his right eye and the unnatural bright blue of his left.

“Can I go again?”

Aemond leans into you, pressing his nose against yours. “You can ride me as many times as you want, darling.”

No taglist, follow @ficsbygee and turn on post notifs for updates!

[zaraaa-jas]

We live in cities you'll never see on screen☀️

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"WHY SEE THE WORLD WHEN GOT THE BEACH"

Synopsis: Reader life before going to Gotham

Sunshine and the shade of pine trees and leaves—these are things you cherished when living with your mom. Sure, the heat can become unbearable, and you sweat through your skin, but you couldn’t have it any other way. The beach is your favorite place to go when you were little, and it still is now. You'll never be too old for a sandcastle, or to destroy your mother at volleyball, or to splash salt water at your friends. You lived a comfortable life, and that's all you need. I mean, what’s so good about seeing the world? You have everything you want right here: a killer mall with every piece of anime and manga merch you could ask for, a plaza you can go to hang out with your friends. Some people say your life was boring, repetitive, sugar-sweet, but you could care less. You were comfortable; you were happy with your mom. Who cares for traveling? You have a beautiful beach, a place to gaze at the stars, places to go for hangouts, and house parties to chill at. Why would you ever want to leave? Why would you ever want to do anything else or be anything else? You always made fun of people who wanted to be famous because to you it was all crap. I mean, people knowing your name and face, your interests, making fan pages about you, stalking your socials—you just hated the idea. Maybe at one point you thought it was cool since your mom was famous, but you knew she’d rather spend her money on tacky clothes, long nails, and gold jewelry than model again, how the agency she worked with was toxic and treated their black stars horribly, and the lies on the big screen. But who could blame her? If you were that pretty, you'd spend your money on tacky stuff like that too. But you spend your money on other things that make your mother giggle. "Aren’t you too old for Legos?" But you quickly rebuttal, and she laughs, buying them for you anyway. But like you said, why would you give up a life like this for Gotham? The cotton candy skies, the grace on your face when the sun hits the horizon, the lights that showed the city like bright diamonds, the cool, crisp night air as you spend a night at your friend's place, throwing your head back as you feel the warm breeze hit your face in your mom's convertible as Destiny Child plays on an old CD, and you sing the lyrics with your mom. This is what you loved; this is what you enjoy. You'll sit by your outdoor pool at night, soaking in the water, letting your fingers wrinkle, and you'll have your mom yell at you for staying in the chlorine too long. She'll tease you about one day having gills, which always makes you laugh. She calls you a fish and forces you to take a shower. Every summer is for you, so would you go out to somewhere different? Sure, let's take a two-week trip to Mexico and let your mom ogle at the boys, then tease you for not having a partner. But you'll let her have her fun; you'll let her take her thousands of photos and buy hundreds of souvenirs just to show off to her friends later. Your mom doesn't know a lick of Spanish, but this top is hot pink and cute, and there's one in your size too, but you'll scream and run away from your villainess mother who will force you to wear it. But how could you be mad at her? She's your momma, and you'll take that photo and put it in a tacky seashell frame and have it hang in your living room. You'll either feel shame or fondness as you stare up at that ridiculous photo, but it's the thought that counts, and your mom put two thoughts into it. But this is the sweet life, the life you’d rather live with forever and ever, never letting it fade away. You'll never get tired of it, and you'll never want more because this is all you've ever known, and this is all you'll ever care for. It's like the country mouse vs. the city mouse—you never liked the country in the first place.

[lxndonorris]

home race - Oscar Piastri

Y/N x Oscar Piastri Theme: Smut (you've been warned) you're in a long-distance relationship with Oscar and surprise him at his "home race" x word count: 3250+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :) EN: Another big piece and I hope you'll like it. My first time writing Oscar.

You sat in your living room, staring at your phone. The screen displayed a countdown timer you set months ago when you and Oscar, your boyfriend, decided you could handle a long-distance relationship.

Living in the United States while dating a Formula 1 driver based in Europe wasn't easy, but the two of you made it work. You spoke every day, sent each other thoughtful gifts, and cherished the moments you could spend together in person.

The countdown finally hit zero. It is time for your big surprise.

Oscar is in Monaco for the Grand Prix, and you planned to surprise him for months since the season started. You told him you wouldn't be able to make it due to work commitments, but in reality, you managed to arrange everything perfectly, with a little help from the Mclaren Team.

You had your flights booked, your accommodation sorted, and a special pass that would allow you into the Mclaren motorhome, where Oscar would eventually be.

When you boarded your flight, you felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. You knew how much this surprise would mean to Oscar. The past few months have been challenging for him, dealing with the pressures of being a professional F! driver while missing you. You wanted to make this moment unforgettable.

After a long flight and a quick check-in at your hotel in Monaco, you head straight to the racetrack. You are wearing a Mclaren team hoodie, jeans, and a fitting cap, blending in with the team. You find your way to the motorhome and, with the help of a team member who is in on the surprise, get inside and wait for Oscar.

The atmosphere in Monaco is electric. The sun shines brightly over the azure waters of the Mediterranean, and the roar of engines echoes through the narrow streets of the city. The Monaco Grand Prix is one of the most prestigious races on the calendar, and the excitement is palpable.

The qualifying session just ends, and he pushes his car to the limit and secures second place on the grid. The team is ecstatic, and Oscar feels a rush of adrenaline as he climbs out of the car, waving to the cheering fans. 

Inside the motorhome, your heart races as you finally hear footsteps approaching. The door opens, and you turn around to see Oscar standing there, a look of shock and disbelief on his face.

"Y/N? Is that really you?" Oscar's voice trembles with emotion.

You smile, your eyes filling with tears.

"Surprise!"

Oscar closes the distance between you in an instant, wrapping you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling your familiar scent, and holds you as if he never wants to let go.

At the same time, the faint scent of him swirls around you, and with a deep breath, you take it in, closing your eyes for a second to relish in this moment.

"What are you doing here?" He murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe you're here."

"I wanted to be here for you, at your home race." You say softly. "I've missed you so much, Oscar Piastri Leclerc."

Both of you pull back slightly to look at each other, your eyes meeting with an intensity that speaks volumes. Oscar cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that escape down your cheeks.

"I've missed you too, Y/N. More than you can imagine."

You kiss—a tender and passionate kiss that seems to make up for all the time you spent apart. 

When you finally break apart, Oscar can't stop smiling.

"You look amazing in that Mclaren gear," he says, his eyes roaming all over you as they sparkle with admiration.

You chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I have to show my support for my favorite driver."

As you stand facing each other, the air between you seems to be charged with electricity. You feel the tension and excitement from qualifying still radiating off Oscar. 

Tentatively, you reach out, letting your hand run across his firm chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heaving chest beneath your fingertips. His whole body is slightly tensed, still buzzing from the adrenaline rush.

Oscar's eyes soften as he looks at you, a smile spreading across his lips.

"It's so good to see you," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

You smile back, your gaze drifting over his racing suit. "You look so good in that green and yellow racing suit, Oscar. Really, you do. It suits you perfectly."

The special suit, designed to honor Senna, clings to his frame in all the right ways, accentuating his athletic build. The vibrant colors contrast beautifully with his complexion, making him look every bit the star he is.

Oscar chuckles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Thanks. I didn't think I could pull off these colors, but hearing it from you makes me believe it."

Your fingers linger on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. "I missed you so much," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 

As your hand continues to stroke his chest, you feel Oscar's hands move to your waist, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your jeans. He pulls you slightly closer; your bodies now mere inches apart. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter.

"Do you have some free time?" You ask, your voice soft and teasing, eyes glimmering with anticipation.

Oscar smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. "For you? Always."

The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile, your hand moving up to his shoulder. "Good." You breathe deeply, feeling the tension between you increase even more. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and kiss him passionately. The moment your lips meet, Oscar melts into the kiss, his arms tightening around your waist. The warmth and familiarity of the embrace make everything else disappear, leaving just the two of you in your own private world.

As the kiss deepens, you steady yourself against his firm chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. His hum of approval sends a thrill through you, and you take your time, savoring the moment, relishing the closeness you missed for far too long.

With a teasing glint in your eye, you reach for the zipper of his racing suit. Slowly, you begin to unzip it, feeling the resistance of the fabric give way. Oscar's breath hitches as you draw the zipper down to his tummy, exposing his tight black fireproofs beneath.

You let your hands slip inside, and stroke his chest. "You look so good," you murmur, your hands resting on the exposed fabric. The smooth, taut material hugs his body, accentuating his toned muscles.

Oscar's eyes darken with desire as he looks at your hands running across his chest, a mixture of amusement and longing playing on his features. "You're making it very hard to concentrate," he says, his voice low and husky.

You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his fireproofs. "Good," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss. 

This time, it is slower, more deliberate; each touch and caress a reminder of the desire crackling between you.

As your kisses grow more intense, you feel the heat rising between your bodies. Oscar's hands roam over your back, pulling you even closer, as if he can't bear to let you go.

With your hands still roaming over his chest, you draw a line down to his abs, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips. Each touch elicits several low growls from deep inside his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. As you continue your exploration, Oscar leans his head back, his eyes closing as he savors the sensation.

You decide to take things a step further. 

"Let me help you." You breathe deeply, gently pushing the upper half of his suit off his shoulders. 

Oscar obliges, his breath hitching as you peel the fabric away, revealing more of his muscular torso. The sleeves hang down from his waist, the tight fireproofs beneath barely able to contain the immense tension building inside him.

His muscles bulge with each movement, with each breath he takes, the strain and excitement of the day evident in every contour of his body. You can't help but admire him, your hands now tracing the lines of his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin.

Oscar opens his eyes and looks at you, his gaze filled with desire and affection. "You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice rough with need.

You smile with a playful glint in your eye. "Flex for me." You reply, your fingers continuing their journey across his entire upper body.

With a mischievous grin, Oscar obliges again, flexing his arms and chest, showcasing the impressive muscles that have been honed through countless hours of training. The sight makes your heart skip a beat; a rush of admiration and desire floods through you.

"Like what you see?" he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you let your hands roam over his flexed muscles. "You have no idea," you reply, your voice filled with genuine awe.

He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling from deep inside his chest. "I'm just glad you're here to see it."

One of your hands traces the contours of his biceps, feeling the power and strength beneath your fingers, while you let your other hand roam freely across his chest and even further down to his crotch.

You feel his hunger building up inside his pants; the fabric bulges just along his member tenting visibly. With two fingers, you trace the tangible outlines of his lust again and again, eliciting more and more deep growls from his throat.

Oscar is thoroughly enjoying himself, responding to your teasing with a mixture of laughter and passion. You see the gleam in his eyes, the way he savors every touch and caress. 

Then, with a bold move, you slip one of your hands underneath his fireproofs, feeling the intense heat of his skin radiating against your palm.

Oscar's breath hitches at the sensation, his eyes so dark with desire. With a swift motion, he swipes the Mclaren cap from your head and lets it drop to the floor. A playful chuckle escapes his lips as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a deep, fervent kiss.

The kiss is electric, filled with a hunger that threatens to consume you both—the long separation and the yearning that built up between you. Your fingers splay across his warm skin, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath your fingertips. 

Oscar's hands roam over your back again, pulling you closer, before he takes the lead, guiding you through the room and across a huge empty wall. Gently, your back meets the wall, steadying the two of you fully. 

You feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, fast and powerful, matching your own. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you locked in your passionate embrace.

His hands are now all over your chest, his touch both soft and possessive. Each caress sends waves of electricity through you, making your pulse race as far as his race car.

Oscar's kisses trail down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His lips are gentle yet insistent, making a path that sets your skin on fire. The sensation is almost overwhelming—a perfect blend of tenderness and desire that makes your heart swell with emotion.

Amidst your intimate moment, you take in Oscar's familiar scent, a comforting aroma that envelopes you in a sense of security and belonging—a mixture of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of adrenaline from the day's events, and the subtle hint of his natural scent.

Breathing him in, you feel a wave of warmth wash over you, and his scent is like a familiar embrace, making it even harder to concentrate.

Now, his hands slide underneath your hoodie, his fingertips dancing across your skin. You shiver at the sensation, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The contrast of his warm hands against the cool evening air heightens your senses, making every touch feel even more intense.

"You're amazing." Oscar breathes against your neck, his voice rough with emotion. "I need you."

Your breath hitches, your hands grip his shoulders for support as you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Oscar," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of desire and affection.

His hands roam freely now, exploring every inch of your torso with a reverent touch. You feel the strength and control in his fingers, the way he holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You arch into his touch, your own hands exploring the hard planes of his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. The fabric of his fireproofs is smooth and cool against your palms, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

"Oscar." You murmur again, your voice barely audible as you revel in the sensations he is creating. "I need you, too."

He lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"I'm right here," he replies, his voice steady yet husky.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you let out a long, exhausted sigh. At the same time, you feel one of his hands make its way down your chest and right to your jeans. In one swift motion, he unbuttons it, just to make way for his hand to slip inside.

Your breath hitches right away as you feel his fingers tracing patterns in all the right places.

Even though it's hard to keep your composure, you manage to return the favor, letting one of your hands run down his back, along his spine, around his waist, and between his legs.

As you touch him, Oscar lets out a low, primal groan, the culmination of all the teasing and desire building up between them. His response sends a thrill through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

The tension is palpable; both of you are aching for a release, craving the other's touch.

Together, you help each other undress just enough to make it work. Panting and growling, he tugs at your jeans until they are sliding down to your ankles, so his hands stroke your thighs delicately.

Then, it's your turn to help him. Pulling at the suit clinging to his skin, the two of you manage to pull his length out of his pants, just for you to hold it and play with it.

Exhausted, Oscar leans in, kissing you passionately. You melt into him, offering yourself for what's to come next.

The moment he slides inside your body, it sparks a tingling sensation inside your stomach, and you let out a low grunt. Simultaneously, he moans right into your mouth, making it even harder to keep a straight face.

He is the first to take the lead again.

With your back against the wall, he begins to grind his hips against yours, rhythmically, sensually, and it is easy for you to catch up. The two of you move in sync with one another, letting out low growls, moans, and grunts.

Your hands wander all over his chest, stroking him through his firerpoofs. Oscar's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. 

The sensation of your touch through the fabric sends waves of heat through him, encouraging him to increase the pace and strength of his thrusts. In return, he steadies himself against the wall behind you while his other hand lingers on your breasts.

Your movements are slow and deliberate; you are fully aware of his most sensitive spots, and you encourage him more and more. Pinching his nipples, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, and feeling his muscles bulge harder and hader.

Panting and moaning, Oscar's body grows stiff and rigid; unable to contain himself, he bites his lower lip before he grunts angrily.

"Fuck."

You revel in the power you have over him and the way he responds so intensely to your touch.

With each stroke, you feel him growing even more aroused, his body still tightening instinctively to your touch. His hands grip your breasts tighter, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.

The two of you move as one; every thrust sends you closer and closer to the edge, and the way he grunts deeply tells you he feels the same.

As you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know there is no turning back. Your passion burns bright, consuming you both in a whirlwind of sensation and emotion.

With one final, heavy thrust, both of you let go of all that pressure and tension and scream out in ecstasy.

Several exhausted moans leave Oscar's lips, and he leans forward, grateful for the wall steadying him. At the same time, you lean your head back, moaning deeply.

You rest your head against his shoulder, swallowing hard. His body embraces yours right away; his firm shoulder is the perfect place right now.

Out of breath, the two of you barely regain your composure before you lock eyes again, both of you smiling contently.

"That was so good." He moans, exhausted, before he leans in, kissing you deeply.

"Oscar." You breathe into him, kissing him back.

After your passionate moment, you share another tender smile, your hearts still racing with the intensity of your connection. 

With gentle touches and soft kisses, you help each other get dressed again, your movements slow and deliberate again.

As you adjust the sleeves of his fireproofs, you look up at Oscar, your eyes filled with affection. "You were amazing today," you say, your voice filled with pride. "I am so proud of you."

Oscar smiles back, his expression softening. "I am so glad you are here." He replies, his voice tinged with gratitude.

As he begins to change into fresh clothes, you watch him closely, unable to tear your eyes away. 

Oscar moves with natural grace; every movement is fluid and confident. You can't help but admire the way his muscles shift beneath his skin as he removes his racing suit and tight firerpoofs.

He catches your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Sensing your admiration, he makes a little show out of changing, exaggerating his movements slightly as he slips out of his fireproofs and into a fresh pair of underwear you hand him.

You laught at his antics, enjoining the playful side of him that he reserves just for you. As you pull on the pair of jeans and the Mclaren shirt, you feel a surge of affection for him, admiring the way he looks in the team gear.

"You look amazing." You say. "But then again, you always do."

Oscar grins, his eyes shining brightly. "I have to look my best, especially with you around." He replies, his tone teasing.

With a final adjustment to his shirt, Oscar turns to you, his expression softening. "Thank you for being here," he says, his voice sincere. 

You reach out and place your hand on his chest again, gently stroking him once more. "I'll always be here for you." You reply. "No matter what."

[akira-dulbar]

The life you left behind-

2/3: surveillance

parte 1 part3 part4 part5

Summary: After discovering he has a son, Jason decides to follow/monitor his son and his mother from a safe distance, fearing that if he gets too close, he could ruin everything.

Warning: Stalking, attempted robbery, violence, mention of teen pregnancy.

Note: I saw that you really liked the first part, now I'm afraid you won't like the second part. Sorry if that's the case. Haha. Anyway, this all has bad articulation. Sorry.

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Jason has been through a lot: he lived on the streets, was adopted by a billionaire, became Robin, died, was resurrected, and became Red Hood, all at just 21 years old. He's lived and seen more than anyone should. Honestly, he felt prepared for anything…

But…

Never a father. Now they can't blame him. His biological father was a bastard (who, thank God, is in prison), while his adoptive father let him die (although they were already talking about it), so he never imagined being a father… and one at 15!

That's why, when Tim and Damian told him about the existence of a 6-year-old son wandering around Gotham City, he thought it was some kind of revenge after a bad joke he'd played on them a few nights ago while they were on patrol. But when he looked at the Batcomputer screen where all the evidence was (hell, there were also three DNA samples), he felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head, and before he knew it, he'd fainted.

Now, they couldn't blame him. Jason could be everything: a murderer, a criminal, a vigilante, a mob boss, an older brother, a disaffected son, among a thousand other things!

but never a father…

never a father…

He didn't know how to be a father. He barely remembered that school. When he died and they put him in the Lazarus Pit, it helped him physically but not mentally (in fact, it made him worse). Many of the memories he had disappeared, and others are like a fog that can't see anything. That's why he didn't suspect he had a child or that he'd gotten a girl pregnant (hell, he thought he was still a virgin when he died!) He doesn't even remember the girl (which leaves a bad taste in his mouth, although it's not even his fault).

That's why, a month after the discovery and having a breakdown, he decided he should at least see the child. Also because Alfred said he should at least see him, even if it's out of the corner of his eye. Because what he did (or didn't do) couldn't be undone.

When he found out that there was a cafeteria across the street from the kindergarten where his son attended (he had a son for God's sake!), he thought he could see him from a safe distance, sitting at a table by the window that gave a great view of the entrance to the kindergarten, what he didn't expect was that his older brother Dick would decide to join him.

"No one asked for you to come," Jason looked at Dick, who was sitting in front of him drinking a smoothie. He didn't want him there. He felt like he needed to do this alone.

"Oh, come on. You spent a month locked up in one of your safe houses without talking to anyone, and when you finally get out, you expect me not to support you?" Jason knew Dick meant no harm and that he was also excited to meet his son (he still can't get used to that word).

"If I talked to anyone, I talked to Alfred, who's better than any of you." Alfred has always been the voice of reason in the family and the best person to talk to about problems. After all, the others have communication problems (like him).

"And that's great, but you don't just have Alfred, remember? We're here too. You're not alone, Jason."

"I don't know why you're helping me here."

"I support Morar. You'll meet… no, more accurately, you'll see your son for the first time. Today, I think you need all the support we can offer." Instead of feeling grateful, Jason can only feel desperate.

"Listen, Dick…"

"Hey, look, look!" Dick kept pointing at something on the other side of the window.

Jason watched as the children started to leave the yard, all with their respective mothers or fathers. Some were running, others were jumping like crazy and talking so fast that you probably couldn't understand half of what they were saying, but you could see their parents just nodding and smiling at what they were saying. They seemed happy…

And for a moment, Jason couldn't help but imagine if he'd known about the pregnancy, if he hadn't died alone, maybe… maybe he'd be one of them, one of those fathers holding their children's hands and telling them about their day in kindergarten, what they did, what they discovered, what they learned…

What it would be like… what it would be like to hold their hand in his, such a small hand compared to his large one, how easy it would be to pick them up and rock them when they were sleepy…

Jason couldn't help but let his mind wander, so many things he'd missed and wouldn't be able to experience…

"Hey look, there's this one." When Dick said that, Jason quickly looked up, and what he saw made him freeze in place.

There was a boy with a book against his chest, looking from side to side, possibly searching for his mother. He realized that yes, he was indeed his; the relationship couldn't be denied.

The boy had Jason's hair, eyes, and facial shape, but there were some things that were different, like the shape of his nose and mouth, which were different from his own. He must have gotten him from his mother.

Jason lowered his eyes to get a better look at the book the boy was holding, realizing it was a book about Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Jason put a hand to his mouth as he smiled. It was one of his favorite books too. Apparently, the boy had the same taste in books as him. He remembers when Tim told him that when he went to get the boy's DNA, he saw a pile of books on a shelf in his room. Jason wondered what other books the boy liked and if there was another one that was Jason's favorite.

"Wow, you have a very cute son. I'm sure he got him from his mother." Oh, right. The mother wondered how you were. Did you also like books like him? How well did you know each other? Why did you want to keep the boy? (Don't get him wrong, for him it's a fair question.)

The boy, unaware that his biological father was just a few steps away, began to run to the side. Immediately, both Jason and Dick became alarmed and jumped up from their respective places (after all, why would a child run so suddenly if it weren't for danger?)

But the two calmed down almost instantly when the boy jumped into the arms of a woman who picked him up and did a few somersaults with him. They both sat down, realizing who it was. It was you, the woman in the photos, the girl Jason had impregnated (to whom he owed a ton of child support, damn it).

You, the woman in question, were dressed in a formal office-style outfit. You put the boy down, who quickly started jumping up and down and showing you his book, perhaps talking about the pages he'd read at recess. If anything, you just smiled and nodded at everything the boy said.

Jason watched as you took the boy's small hand and started walking back the way the young woman had appeared. He just watched as the two of you walked away from the garden… away from the other children and parents… away from her.

"They seem happy, don't they, Jason?" Dick turned to look at Jason after seeing you turn a corner and disappear.

"Yes, very happy." Jason just stared back the way the young woman had gone. They were happy… very happy and fine… without him. (Although he couldn't blame them either.)

-------

After seeing his son and his mother for the first time (he's getting used to the word), he learned a little more about them. Although Tim and Damian had already done so and gave him a folder with all their information, he didn't accept it because he decided he wanted to do it himself.

So when he found out your name, he was happy to finally put a name to your face (because he was getting tired of calling you the mother of his child or the pregnant woman). But what did surprise him was his son's name. When he found out he had a son, he tried to completely ignore it. He didn't want to even see it in print because he'd be accepting something he wasn't ready for.

But now it was different. He was already accepting the fact that he had a son, and he'd even seen him when he came out of kindergarten, so he felt ready for the name.

Turns out no, he wasn't ready.

Peter…

It didn't take a genius to figure out where the name came from. Now, there was no way to confirm if he'd been named after him or if it was just a coincidence. But even if I don't know you, you seem like a woman who would do that.

In any case, when he discovered where he lived, he started patrolling the area. Even though it was a bit far from his territory, he didn't mind; in fact, he was glad. It meant they were further away from danger (even though every corner in Gotham was dangerous).

Sometimes, he would just sit in the building next door, looking out your apartment window and watching you interact in the living room, or just eating while watching a movie. It was comforting to see those moments; it was like the relaxation therapy Jason needed so much. His favorite moments were when you were in his son's room and listening to you read a page from one of the books Peter had in your room, or when the two of you would simply play with the Superman and Wonder Woman figurines.

While Jason was on the fire escape trying to stay hidden listening to everything they were saying and feeling a warmth in his heart, after all his son has the same tastes in books and superheroes, everyone in the family knew that Jason was a fan of Wonder Woman and knowing that his son was too just made him smile like crazy and when he found out that Peter wasn't a Batman fan like everyone else in town, all he could do was jump for joy (finally someone who thinks like him!).

He loved those moments, they were relaxing and comforting, although he didn't like how his mind sometimes wandered to the idea that he too could be part of those moments, that he would also read books to his son and you, and that at some point you would be asleep on the floor all cuddled up together.

Because of that, he always wondered what would have happened if he had been buried from the beginning.

He would have been there for his birth, for his first words, the first time he walked. Hell, he barely thought about whether they could have been a happy family, if things with you had worked out and he would be there, a happy family of three.

But there was no going back now. They were better off without him… without Jason Todd, a mafia boss, who was broken, and who could surely ruin everything at any moment if he got involved with you.

That's why it was better this way. After all, you were better off without him…

Without a disaster like him…

------

It had been two months since Jason had patrolled the area near your house and your son's (he realized he loved calling Peter his son). The incidents were mostly minor, just a few burglaries here and there and nothing more. That's why he was happy, hoping he could see you through the apartment window that night too.

Although he quickly realized neither of you were in the apartment, but had gone to buy some things for tomorrow, since you forgot to show up at the last second. Jason realized you were a very forgetful woman; he wouldn't be surprised if you forgot his son in the garden one of these days, although he was sure it had happened before.

When you and the boy went outside (you being the one carrying Peter because he'd fainted from exhaustion after such a long day), Jason followed you both closely at a safe distance to make sure everything was okay, which everything was at the time. But when the two turned a corner and Jason also saw a man standing in front of them with a knife in his hand and trying to snatch your bag, which was difficult considering you were carrying Peter.

"Weren't you taught to respect women?" Jason was happy to still be wearing his Red Hood helmet.

Both people turned to look at him. The robber paled when he saw him, while you seemed more surprised to see him.

"Red Hood… what are you doing here? This isn't your territory."

"Yeah, well, sometimes it's good to get out of your comfort zone." Jason pulled out his gun, pointing it at the robber.

"You'd better think about your next move." Obviously, the bullets he had weren't lethal, since Batman convinced him to, but the robber didn't need to know that.

With that said, the robber dropped his bag and ran to the opposite side of the street from where he'd appeared, leaving the three of them alone again. Jason was about to put his gun away and leave when he felt a tug on his shirt. He looked up at you, who was smiling at him, still carrying an unconscious child, who didn't seem to be bothered by the small commotion.

"Thanks for saving us." This wasn't good. Jason didn't want them to get involved with him in any way, much less as a Red Hood.

"Yeah, well, it's best if you don't go out at night at this time again." Jason wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"Even so, you helped us a lot. If he had stolen from me, I'd be in a lot of trouble."

"Yeah, well, you're welcome." Jason was about to turn around and walk away to a safer place to keep watching them.

"What´s…" But it seemed like you wanted to keep talking.

"What?" Jason turned to look at her.

"What's your name? I'm .… and he's my son, Peter." She already knew that last part.

"Honey, don't you know me?" Okay, he didn't want to call her that; it was something natural that just slipped out.

"I know who you are."

"So? I can't reveal my identity to you. It's called a secret identity for a reason." Jason thinks you've gone crazy for asking him that. It wasn't because he heard her put her hand to her mouth, trying not to laugh, that confused him.

"I know who you are… but I want you to tell me." What? Jason was confused.

"Do you want me to tell you who I am? Even though you already know who I am?" Jason could only watch as you nodded while searching for something in your other shopping bag.

"Red… Red Hood…"

"Okay, Red Hood, here you go. Take this as a thank you gift." You handed Jason a juice box while he was still confused.

"Thanks again for saving us." You smiled one last time at Jason while he was still frozen in place watching you and his (still asleep) son disappear from sight.

Jason could only stare at the juice bottle while wondering who he had gotten involved with when he was younger.

That night, Jason dreamed of a girl smiling at him at school while asking him his name.

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I'm afraid you won't like it, but anyway, I'm proud of what I did (what I did in Spanish, the English is purely a translator, because my English is so basic that it's not enough for all of this).

If it is well received again, part 3 will come out, which is the reader's perspective on how she met Jason and what happened to her decide to keep the child (and yes, it's the last one, I think?).

Anyway, I hope you like it. I don't know much English.

[nameless-ken]

Bucky Barnes x Reader - epilogue

The Stranger That Knows Me Best is a heartfelt story about connection, vulnerability, and taking chances on the unexpected. Two introverts discover that sometimes, the person who understands you best is the one who you've never met.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: slight angst but mostly fluff!

Masterlist

The past year has been a lesson in patience, in love stretched across miles, in longing softened by ink and paper. 

Y/N, By the time you read this, you'll be somewhere between where we've been and where we're going.  I keep thinking about the first letter I sent you, how I sat there rewriting the same lines over and over because I didn’t know how to talk to a complete stranger hundreds of miles away. And now? Now, I don’t know how to live everyday and not talk to you. I find you in every quiet moment, in every song that plays, in every empty space that should be filled by you. I know the past year hasn’t been easy. I know we had days where the distance felt impossible, where time zones and phone calls weren’t enough. But we made it. And I can’t wait for the moment I get to hold you again, no miles, no screens, no letters between us—just you and me. I love you.  —Bucky

You tightly hold the last letter Bucky sent to your old apartment, tears blurring your vision as you carefully fold it and tuck it back into your carry on purse. You wipe away the few streaks from your cheeks as the pilot announces the final descent into the lively New York City. 

Your heart thrums in anticipation, hands gripping the armrests as the city scape comes into view beyond the window. A year ago, Brooklyn was just a place, a doomed stop with an inevitable goodbye. But now? Now, it’s more.

It’s home.

A quiet smile tugs at your lips as the wheels touch the ground, steady and sure. There’s no sadness this time. No ache, no uncertainty, no fear of what comes next.

This time, you’re arriving home. A new, promising, more permanent home. With him.

You and Bucky have healed the past year. Together and alone. You stayed in Oregon after he surprised you at your graduation but Bucky made sure to confess his feelings to you before he left. 

"I don’t want to let you go," he had said, voice rough with emotion, hands clenching at his sides as if he was holding himself back from reaching for you. "Not again. Never again."

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t care. God, you cared more than you had words for but because love, real love, felt too raw, too fragile to hold after everything you had been through. You weren’t sure if you were ready for a relationship, but you knew you couldn’t let him go either.

So you agreed to stay in contact. Letters at first. That has always been your safe space. As the months passed, wounds mended and your trust was rebuilt through all of his carefully written words, the letters turned into more. More quickly from texts to phone calls, the sound of Bucky’s voice became familiar again. He never pressured you for more. No expectations–only his continued patience and understanding. 

Bucky let you set the pace. And somewhere along the way, in the quiet constancy of him, in the way he never wavered, never gave up on devoting his time and heart to you, you realized what had been true all along.

You’d fallen in love with him.

That realization for you gave you the strength and bravery to accept his invitation to a trip, a planned weekend getaway to a city halfway between both of you. The first time since your graduation seeing each other again. 

You close your eyes as the memories come rushing back as you wait to unboard the plane. 

The way he was waiting at the arrivals gate, shifting anxiously on his feet, his expression nervous, like he was expecting you not to show up, until he saw you. And then his face became full of pure, unfiltered relief. He wrapped you in his arms before you could say anything, holding you, afraid to let go. You felt the same way, tears glistening both of your eyes as you collapsed against each other. 

That weekend was a dream. Wandering the unfamiliar streets hand in hand, laughing over terrible coffee, stealing glances across a candlelit table at a small restaurant that Bucky reserved weeks before. The way he looked at you under the streetlights, his fingers traced mindless patterns against your palm as if he couldn’t believe you were real, here, his.

You remember the hotel room, the late-night talks, the way you curled into him, muttering about the future. The first time you whispered I love you into the quiet, and the way he froze for a second before pulling you closer, burying his face into your neck as he breathed out,

“God, I love you too. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you.”

It was the most perfect, unbelievably happy weekend you ever had. And it solidified what you already knew in your heart.

Bucky was home. He is home. 

And now, as you gather your things and follow the line out of the plane, you know without a doubt—you’re so happy to finally be home. 

You navigate through the terminal, weaving through the rush of travelers, your grip tightening around the strap of your bag as the anticipation builds in your chest. You look around frantically, over the heads and shoulders of your fellow travelers and see him. 

There he is. Bucky. In his usual battered jeans and leather jacket, hands stuffed into his pockets as he bounces slightly on the balls of his feet, showing the same amount of anticipation as you.  His eyes scan the crowd, restless, searching until they land on you.

His entire face shifts. The tension melts, his shoulders drop, and for a second, he just stares at you like he can’t believe you’re really here. Then, he moves.

You barely have time to drop your bag before he reaches you, arms wrapping around you so tightly that your feet barely touch the ground. The scent of him fills your senses as you bury your face in his neck.

“You’re here,” he murmurs against your hair, voice thick with heavy relief. “You’re finally here.”

You nod against him, gripping the fabric of his shirt like you never want to let go. “I’m home.”

Bucky pulls back just enough to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the dampness at your cheeks. “Damn right you are.”

He kisses you then, right there in the middle of the terminal, he doesn’t care about the people moving around you. You and this moment are the only things that matter. 

Brooklyn rushes past in a blur of streetlights and familiar city chaos, but inside the car, everything feels steady—grounded. Bucky’s fingers weave through yours, his grip firm, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. The radio plays softly in the background as neither of you speak much. You don’t need to. The quiet is comfortable, charged with the unspoken understanding that everything is finally falling into place.

He sneaks glances at you every so often, like he’s making sure you’re real. Every time you catch him, he just smirks and squeezes your hand.

"If you keep looking at me like that, Barnes," you tease, your thumb brushing against his knuckles, "I might start thinking you missed me."

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, ‘missed’ doesn’t even cover it."

And you believe him. Because you missed him, too. In ways words could never quite capture.

Even though you were never the type to map out your future, you know now that you never could have planned a chapter like this. This kind of love—the kind that sneaks up on you, that lingers, that fights to stay. It wasn’t something you expected to find. But Bucky? He made it impossible to resist. Over the last year, his unwavering patience, his devotion, his quiet, steady love proved again and again that this is real. That this is worth everything.

Through long conversations—some easy, some difficult—you both built a foundation meant to last.

The city begins to slow as Bucky turns onto a quieter street. Brownstone townhomes line both sides, bathed in the warm glow of porch lights and the occasional flicker of a television through a window. Your fingers tighten around his as your heart stutters, realization washing over you.

This is it.

Your new home.

Together.

Bucky pulls into a parking spot in front of a townhouse with wide steps leading up to a dark blue door. The sight of it, so solid and welcoming, makes your throat tighten. It’s not just a temporary place to stay. This is yours, together.

Before you can even process it fully, Bucky is already out of the car, rounding the hood to open your door. He doesn’t rush you, only reaches for your hand to help you out.

"You ready?" he asks, his voice softer now, eyes searching yours as you stand next to him in front of your home.

You take a breath, taking in the way he’s looking at you—no trace of anxiety to be seen, only adoration. 

You squeeze his hand, stepping closer.

"Yeah," you whisper, smiling up at him. "I’m ready."

Bucky keeps a hand at the small of your back as he leads you up the steps to the front door. He pauses, giving you a look that’s entirely too pleased with himself.

“What?” You narrow your eyes. “What did you do?”

Bucky’s hand never leaves the small of your back as he nudges the door open, watching for your reaction like a man who’s been waiting for this moment for far too long. His lips twitch into that boyish smirk you’ve come to know too well.

Your mouth parts in shock.

The entire living room is decorated. A homemade banner stretches across the space, big, uneven letters reading Welcome Home. Balloons in soft blues and creams float in the corners, tied down by little weights. A bouquet of fresh tulips—your favorite—sits in a vase on the kitchen counter.

But what really gets you, what makes your throat tighten and your eyes sting, is the sight of the boxes you shipped ahead of time. Not a single one remains unpacked. Your books are already on the shelves, your framed pictures placed thoughtfully around the space, your favorite blanket draped over the couch.

It already looks like home.

Your eyes sting, and you swallow hard before turning to him, voice barely above a whisper. “You did all this?”

“Didn’t want you comin’ home to a mess,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured you’d be tired. Thought maybe this’d make it easier.”

Easier. Like he hasn’t already spent the past year making everything easier just by being there.

Emotion swells in your chest, too big to contain. You reach for him instinctively, hands settling against his chest. “Bucky…”

Before you can find the right words, he beats you to it.

He cups your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. His lips press against your forehead, lingering there as he exhales.

“You’re here now,” he murmurs. “We’re home.”

It’s not grand or dramatic. There’s no over-the-top declaration. Just quiet certainty. Just him.

And that’s all you need.

You melt into him, arms wrapping around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He holds you just as tightly, anchoring himself to you.

After a long moment, you pull back just enough to look at him, your heart full to the point of aching. “I love you,” you whisper, the words slipping out so effortlessly, so naturally, like they’ve lived on your tongue forever.

Bucky’s eyes search yours, memorizing the moment, storing it away somewhere safe. Then, with a slow, almost disbelieving smile, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

Your lips twitch, and you cup his face, brushing your thumb along the stubble on his jaw. “I love you.”

A soft, shaky laugh leaves him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s kissing you, slow and deep, like he’s been waiting forever to do it. Like he’s finally home, too.

Later that evening, after the excitement of your arrival settles and the last of the takeout containers have been pushed aside, you curl into the couch, legs tucked beneath you. Bucky sits beside you, his arm draped over the back of the couch, fingers tracing absentminded patterns against your shoulder. 

You glance around the room, taking it all in—the space you’re building together, the life that’s finally yours. It feels surreal, like you’re caught in some fragile moment that could slip through your fingers at any second. But it’s all real. He’s real.

Your mind drifts, tracing back the previous months that have led here. 

Sam had insisted on helping you find your footing in the city, setting up a meeting with an old friend of his, the editor-in-chief of a local magazine, who owed him a favor. You remember the nerves rattling through you when you first interviewed, the overwhelming self-doubt. But Sam believed in you. And now, here you are. The new assistant editor, ready to carve your own place in the industry.

And Bucky…

Your gaze shifts to him, watching the way his eyes soften as he looks back at you. He’s changed in ways that make you want to scream with pride. The man who once struggled to let anyone in now stands solid in his place at a physical therapy clinic only blocks away, guiding patients through their recovery, offering quiet encouragement, a steady hand.

He’s told you some stories about his clients. An older woman who insists on bringing him baked goods to every appointment. A stubborn teenage athlete who reminds him too much of himself at that age. You catch the way his enjoyment appears on his face everytime he talks about the work, feeling fulfilled in ways he never thought possible.

But more than that, Bucky has let people in.

Flashbacks from the past couple months drift through your mind. As you and Bucky went about looking for a new home to rent, you spent more time in Brooklyn. And Sam didn’t let the experiences stop. 

Sam has been a beacon in your relationship and who you now consider one of your best friends. He’s always been determined to drag Bucky out of his shell so you both decided to make the effort and push past the old tendencies of retreat and allow yourselves to open up to a new world of experiences. 

The bar is excited with life, music pulsing through the floorboards, rattling in your chest. The air is thick with beer and sweat. It should be overwhelming, but with Bucky’s arm looped around your waist, you can’t think about anything else. You admire his protectiveness. It’s not an act of possession. It’s comfortable and grounding.

Sam stands across from you, drink in hand, telling some ridiculous story about a botched date, a missed reservation, and a very unimpressed woman. His hands move wildly as he reenacts the whole thing, voice animated, drawing laughter from the new group of friends he introduced you both to.

You giggle and feel Bucky chuckle beside you, his body vibrating slightly against yours. He’s relaxed in a way you don’t always get to see, his usual broody exterior softened by the good company and a couple of drinks.

You don’t even realize how close you’ve drifted to him until the room around you fades into the background, until your foreheads are nearly touching. His breath ghosts over your cheek, his gaze dipping to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes, and for a second, the world narrows to just you and him.

His fingers flex against your waist, a small squeeze.

You smirk, tilting your head jokingly. “You keep looking at me like that, Barnes, people might start talking.”

Bucky huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Let ‘em talk.”

His grip on you tightens, just enough to make your pulse flutter, just enough to tell you what you already know. He’s not letting you go. Never again.

Sam’s place is warm, filled with laughter bouncing off the walls. The setting invites easy conversation and good company.

Plates are pushed aside, empty glasses refilled, and now the living room is alive with game night in full swing.

You and Bucky, however, are horrible at charades.

Neither of you have much enthusiasm for acting things out, and it shows. Bucky flat-out refuses to perform anything more animated than a halfhearted gesture, and your attempts aren’t much better. 

“You both are THE worst team in charades history.” Sam exclaims, shaking his head in slight disappointment. The rest of the group groans and laughs as you struggle through yet another round.

Still, Bucky leans in close, murmuring guesses in your ear, half the time being terrible.

“C’mon, doll, that’s definitely a—wait, what are you doing?”

You groan, gesturing wildly, barely holding back laughter. “How do you not see it? It’s so obvious!”

“Not a chance,” he smirks, shaking his head. “You’re making that up.”

"You are the worst partner," you tease, lightly swatting his arm.

Despite your efforts—or lack thereof—you both lose spectacularly. The others tease you about it even after the game ends, Sam declaring an official ban on you and Bucky ever teaming up again.

But later, when the night slows and the energy lowers, you find yourself curled up against him on the couch. His arm draped lazily around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly playing with yours, tracing soft patterns against your skin. 

Losing didn’t matter.

Not when the night ends like this.

You tip your head slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, and he’s already looking at you, the corner of his mouth tugging up in the softest smile.

Yeah. The night was definitely a win.

The quieter moments over the last few months snuck up on you, the ones that didn’t seem significant at first but settle deep in your mind, lingering long after they’ve passed.

One early spring afternoon you and your new friends stroll through the park, conversations overlapping with easy laughter. The air is cool with the sun peeking through the bare branches.

Bucky walks beside you, his hand brushing against yours every so often. But what truly captures your attention is the way he’s engaged in a conversation that isn’t forced or guarded, he’s relaxed, voice steady. He listens, he responds, and he even throws in a dry remark that makes the whole group laugh.

It’s such a simple thing, and yet, you remember the version of him from over a year ago—the one who would have kept his head down, who would have listened silently. And now, here he is, with people who genuinely enjoy his presence.

You squeeze his hand and when he glances at you, you smile brightly. He squeezes your hand back.

Your hand stays in his, tightly as everyone settles into a restaurant booth for brunch. Loud chaos of plates and coffee cups overflow the table. You sit across from Bucky at the crowded table, but your focus stays entirely on him, watching as his expression shifts between amusement and exasperation at Sam’s latest ridiculous story.

Sam’s hands move animatedly as he talks, voice dramatic, eyes wide, clearly embellishing whatever tale he’s spinning. Bucky, arms crossed, leans back in his chair, unimpressed.

“That never happened,” he says flatly.

“Yes, it did!” Sam insists.

Bucky just shakes his head, taking a sip of his coffee. And you can’t help but admire the way his eyes crinkle at the corners slightly.

You nudge his foot under the table and mouth to him you love it, just admit it.

Bucky tilts his head slightly, eyes locked on yours, and mouths, not a chance.

You arch a brow, fighting back a grin. Liar.

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his coffee, but the ghost of a smile lingers. His foot nudges yours back under the table with a silent drop it.

You lean forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as you mouth again, you’re having fun.

Bucky’s lips press together, eyes narrowing just slightly before he mouths back, debatable.

You roll your eyes, you know him too well now to realize he is enjoying this, even if he’ll never admit it out loud.

Across the table, Sam groans. “Okay, what is this? Some kind of creepy silent flirting? Just say what you wanna say like normal people.”

Bucky finally smirks, setting his coffee down with a soft clink. “Says the guy who just reenacted a story that never happened.”

The whole table erupts into laughter, and you just shake your head, nudging Bucky’s foot again. This time, he doesn’t push back. Instead, he just looks at you with a gentle softness in his eyes.

Yeah, he’s enjoying this.

Even now, sitting in your new quiet home, you know you’d be content spending the rest of your life like this. Just you and him.

Still, you’re more grateful than ever for the friendships you’ve made and the ones you’ve kept. Wanda has remained a constant. She has been there so much over the past year, watching your love and relationship sprout and grow so bright. She helped you pack all your things and dropped you off at the airport on your way home to Bucky. 

You shift your carry-on higher on your shoulder, glancing over at Wanda, who stands beside you, arms crossed and eyes suspiciously glassy.

“You’re gonna cry,” you tease, nudging her side.

Wanda scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Please. I don’t cry.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t.” She clears her throat, blinking rapidly. “It’s just… weird, that’s all. You not being here.”

Your chest tightens at that. It is weird. Oregon has been your home all your life, and saying goodbye, to head toward one of the most important chapters of your life, carries a bittersweet weight.

But Brooklyn is waiting. Bucky is waiting.

“I know,” you say softly. “But you’ll visit. And I’ll visit. And it’s not like we won’t talk every day.”

Wanda huffs. “Yeah, yeah. You better not get all ‘too busy with my new life’ on me.”

You grin. “You’ll force me to talk to you, even if I tried.”

“Damn right.” She pauses, her expression shifting. “But seriously… I’m proud of you. For going after this. For going home.”

Your throat tightens. You blink quickly, forcing a smile. “Don’t make me cry right before I get on a plane.”

Wanda smirks, bumping your shoulder. “I knew you were the crier between us.”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. Then, before you can overthink it, you pull her into a tight hug. She grips you just as fiercely.

“Love you,” you mumble into her shoulder.

“Love you too,” she says, voice muffled. Then, pulling back with a smirk, she adds, “Now go before I do start crying and completely ruin my reputation.”

You laugh, adjusting your bag one last time. One last deep breath. One last glance at the place you’ve called home for so long.

A sigh escapes you, the weight of everything—the past, the future, the sheer enormity of how far you’ve both come—settles into your bones.

Bucky’s fingers trail down your arm, his touch grounding. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he murmurs, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

You shift, pressing into his side, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Just thinking about how much has changed.”

His lips curve into a knowing smile. “Yeah?”

You nod, eyes flickering up to meet his. “Almost two years ago, we were two strangers trying to make sense of everything. Now, we’re here. Together.”

Bucky hums, his hand slipping beneath your chin, tilting your face up to his. “Together,” he echoes, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

There’s a gentle acknowledgment that the journey isn’t over. You’re both still healing, still working through old wounds and learning how to navigate life as it comes.

“Oh I have one more thing for you.” Bucky whispers and gets up, grabbing an envelope from the kitchen counter. “A welcome home letter. I figured we’d carry on the tradition, you know, just because we’re finally here together, doesn’t mean we can’t continue to write to one another.” 

You smile at his suggestion, reaching for the envelope as he settles back down beside you. 

Bucky watches as you unfold it and absentmindedly rubs circles against your arm.

You take a breath, eyes tracing the words meant only for you.

Y/N, I know from here on out I get to see you everyday. I get to wake up next to you, hold you and kiss you whenever I want. But still, I can’t help but find myself reaching for a pen. I feel like there are things that I can only seem to say like this.  I hope we carry on this tradition. I don’t want this to change. Each of us digging into each others minds that we somehow find new facets we haven’t uncovered before. It’s fascinating to communicate so openly through written words, that even therapy probably couldn’t pull from me.  I am eternally grateful that you have chosen to continue to try this with me. Not just the letters but life. There’s not a singular soul on this planet that I would choose over you. You are my entire universe and I will love you in a way that doesn’t change, even as everything else does. And I hope that, no matter how much time passes, no matter where life takes us, I’ll always find a way to remind you. So, here’s to you, someone who started out as the stranger that knew me best.  And now to us, a love I hope to cherish and honor for the rest of my days. And here’s to the words that started it all. – Bucky xx

You press the letter to your chest, blinking back the emotion swelling behind your eyes. Bucky shifts beside you, wrapping you warmly in his arms. 

“Still gets you, huh?” he murmurs, his lips curving in that small, knowing smile.

You glance up at him, seeing every chapter of the past, present, and future reflected in his blue eyes. “Always,” you whisper.

Even as things change or fade over time, you know your love will last for lifetimes because you’re both deciding to do it together, no matter how hard it gets. Through the small and big moments. You’re doing it together. 

It’s not perfect. It rarely will ever be. But you’re growing.

And that’s enough. That will always be enough.

Taglist (please lmk if you don't want to be apart of my taglist or comment below to be added!): @mutifandomkid @civilbucky @ozwriterchick @buckyb-stan @lomlbuckybarnes @kjah97 @danzer8705 @laprofesoratinacita

Thank you so much for reading <3 my requests are open for Bucky, so please if you have any ideas send them my way!

[st0ryf1lms]

home, that's a weird word ➳ ken sato

pairing: ken sato x reader

word count: 1.5k

genre/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, undertones of xenophobia, basically how i interpreted the last thing kenji said to ami on their first interview, grammatical errors (most likely), no beta we die like men, personal assistant!reader

synopsis: the word "home" always left a weird taste in kenji's tongue when he said it.

a/n: AAAAAAAA I'VE FINALLY WRITTEN A THOUSAND WORD FIC AFTER 2 YEARS IM SO HAPPY!!! and i'm really hoping u guys like this bc i really am so proud of this sooo enjoyyy!!

It had been a long day, as far as Kenji is concerned. Way too long for his liking. All the cameras and microphones pointed at his direction, all those flashing lights-- a man could only take a few for so long, and Kenji has had enough of his share for the day. As he gets off his bike, all he can think of is the comfort of his own bed, how his pillow would feel against his head and how the duvets would feel covering his skin.

He opened the door to his house, surprised to see you sitting on the couch with the living room lights turned off. Your back was facing him, and with your laptop's glaring LED screen being the only source of light in the room, all he could see was your crouched silhouette.

"Already settling down, huh, Y/N?" He spoke, breaking the silence in the room. "Oh, Mr. Sato, you're home," you say unfazed, as if the only thing that was powering you right now was your laptop's battery. "Just wanted to stay for a while to catch you so I can brief you for your schedule tomorrow." You stated, closing your laptop and standing up to turn on the lights on the dim setting. Kenji sighed and closed his eyes as he plopped down on the couch in front of you, serving as a signal for you to start.

"Okay, so, first thing in the morning, Mr. Sato, you have baseball practice which Coach Shimura insists you attend, an interview scheduled…" Your voice becomes buzzing in his head as he looks out the window, a view overlooking the city. The sound of laughter and joy drifting out from the street below, making him feel very alone in this somewhat new town. "…Sato. Mr. Sato. Are you even listening to a word I say?" You say exasperatedly, not sure if your asshat of a boss actually understands that you came from a 12-hour flight, too, and want nothing to be in the comfort of a nice and comfortable bed. You follow where his gaze is at, looking out the window where the busy streets of Tokyo are hustling and bustling as the nightlife slowly rises. You look back at your boss, sporting a solemn yet longing look on his face- earning a tilt of confusion from your head.

"Can I ask you a question, Y/N? Off the record, please." He asks, eyes remaining trained on the window. "Have you ever felt like you've never belonged? Like, no matter where you go, no matter who you are, you'll never find yourself home?" He finally looks at you, noticing your once tense figure now replaced with a relaxed yet calculating stance, figuring out what to say to him. The silence feels like forever as he awaits an answer from you, Kenji letting out a sigh as he hangs his head down low.

"Ever since I had moved to LA, I lost all sense of the word 'home.' Hah, even saying it right now leaves a weird taste in my tongue. All those kids back there, they always told me to 'go back home,' and when I did go back to the house where my mom and I lived, she'd always tell me that we were right at home. Now that I'm actually back in my 'homeland', it feels so weird to even call it that now." He blurted out, his previously relaxed figure on the couch is now one of a crouched one, his head still glued facing down on the floor. "In LA, I felt too Japanese to fit in. The culture shock hitting me every single time I try to do something I was used to. Now, here in Japan, I feel too American now to even call myself a local. Even speaking in my own tongue feels weird to my mouth and my throat."

He finally looked up at you and saw a blank yet somehow shocked expression adorning your face. His eyes slightly widened and his breath hitched in his throat as he quickly realized the gravity of his words and who he was speaking to about a sensitive topic. You, on the other hand, was internally slack-jawed. What the helllll, is this really happening???? You rhetorically think to yourself as your boss, The Ken Sato, the egotistical baseball superstar, literally just spilled his guts in front of you, his personal assistant whom he keeps at an arm's length.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" he stuttered as he racked his brain, trying to make up an excuse for what he said. You still stayed silent and eerily still. "A–are you still there? Hello? Earth to Y/N?" He asked, cautiously waving a hand.

"Yes," you cleared your throat, "yes, Kenji." You say, his contorted face relaxing as he hears his name slip your mouth. You clear your throat once again before starting.

"You know, if I may, I'd like to believe that home is a construct you make and that a place doesn't really define it. Sure, in kindergarten, we get taught that the definition of home is a place where you live in but as we get older, don't some things actually change? And I'd like to say that the word 'home' is one of those things. As a child, we would say home is where our parents live. As teenagers, we'd say home is with our friends as we laugh and joke with them on various different occasions of our lives at school. As adults, I believe we can be left to define 'home' what we fit it deem to our liking. After all, home is where the heart is, am I right?" You ramble on, pacing around the living room as you animatedly explain with your hands as Kenji follows your every move.

Realizing your mouth once again moved with a mind of its own, you straightened up and cleared your throat. "Ahem, sir. Right, well, I better get going. Long day tomorrow." You nervously chuckled, refusing to look your boss whose privacy you've seem to have invaded as you spoke without filter. You tentatively grab your things and slowly head to the front door, feeling your boss' eyes on you follow your every move as if saying you've overstayed your welcome.

As Kenji trains your every movement, he realizes what you're about to do and stands up abruptly from his place in the couch.

"Y/N, wait."

Your hand hovers above the door handle, eyes closed as you brace for the impact of what your boss is about to say. Please don't fire me, please don't fire me, please do-

"Do you mind if you stay the night?" He says and your head snaps back to look at him, as if he'd grown another head.

I- I mean, not like that, b- but, well… Well, you know what I mean." He sheepishly clarifies, his hand bringing up to scratch the nape of his neck. The silence is awkward and deafening, and he was about to open his mouth to take back what he said but you beat him to it.

"Sure. I'll stay the night, Mr. Sato." You face him with a soft smile.

"Please, Y/N, Kenji's fine."

He leads you to the spare bedroom he has in the house and asks Mina to deliver a fresh set of clothes where you'll stay.

"I just want to say thank you, Y/N. I know I don’t say it enough and I'm sorry for that. I appreciate everything you do." He sincerely told you, looking into your eyes with nothing but pure admiration and gratefulness. "It's all in the job, sir." You say before realizing, wincing as the honorific accidentally leaves your mouth. You open the bedroom door before saying,

"Good night, Kenji."

"Good night, Y/N."

BONUS:

Kenji wakes up to the noise of cooking downstairs, with a pair of voices talking back and forth. He rubs his eyes free of sleep and lifts the duvets off of him, getting up from his bed and out of his room.

The voices become clearer as he goes down the stairs on the way to the kitchen, where he makes out your voice and Mina's, seeming to be guiding you as you follow a recipe she reads out. "Y/N, he's awake." Mina alerts you as you turn to face him.

"Oh, good morning, Mr. Sato. I hope you don’t mind, Mina told me you barely use the kitchen anyway." You nervously chuckle as you focus your attention back on the stove. "Please, Y/N, what did I tell you?" He visibly cranks up at the mention of his last name early in the morning.

"Right, Kenji, I mean." You quickly recall, still stirring the pot. "That smells amazing, what's that?" He says as he walks over you, looking over your shoulder.

"I know it isn't really for breakfast but Mina told me how it was your favorite, so I made curry. Or, at least, attempted to make it." You explain cautiously, slowly looking over to your boss who's currently sporting a look of surprise.

"M-may I?" He gestures to the spoon. You nod and hand it to him, scooting over to give him a taste. His eyes close and you start to feel anxious, building up an excuse in your head to tell him.

"Tastes just like home."

[verycoolusername1]

At Home With Nobody To Hold

Summary: You're missing your boyfriend during the holidays, unaware you're about to get the best present ever.

Track 5 of fruitcake - is it new years yet?

A/N: Gave family members some names(Nora, Ray, Sara, Ava, etc) definitely not from any DC show... *sigh* I miss legends

And I'm so jealous rn I need a bf like this now!!! This one shot is so cute got my giggling and everything-

I also was gonna have a comedic ending, but this ending is too cute that I just couldn't do it(but there is a jack hughes reference that I could not write without laughing)

You sipped on your soda for what felt like the five hundredth time. You were on the balcony trying to ignore your grandmother's questions about grandchildren. The holidays sucked... but then again, you wouldn't have met your boyfriend Ethan if you hadn't gone to the Christmas party before break two years ago.

It sucks being so far away from him for a week, but you two had regular calls now and then. You just wished you could be with him right now.

Your cousin Nora opened the screen door and joined you outside.

"Oh god, you look like a mess." She chuckles. "Missing the boyfriend?"

"Missing the boyfriend." You confirmed with a sigh. "I thought I would be fine with it, but here we are."

Nora nodded to your words. "Yeah, long distance is a bitch but you'll live. You two been through this sort of stuff before."

"I hope so." You mutter under your breath.

"Dinners about to start, think you'll be able to suck it up for an hour." Nora looked at you.

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah I'll be fine."

Suddenly your phone starts to ring, seemly ending the conversation there. You looked at your phone, it was Ethan.

"You guys go on without me, gotta take this." You placed your soda down and answered the phone, Nora going back in the house.

"Hey baby." Ethan's voice rang through the winter air.

"Hey. What are you doing?" You asked, fiddling with your sweater.

Ethan hums. "Oh, nothing. Just watching some Christmas movie."

You nod. "We're about to have dinner."

Ethan stayed silent for a moment. "Oh damn I called you at the wrong time then."

"No, you didn't." You laugh. "I'll always make time for you, you know that."

Ethan's heart swells at your words, a smile breaking out on his face. "Where are you again? Your moms?"

"No, I'm at my grandma's house. She keeps asking me about you and... grandkids." You explained. "Wish you were here to suffer with me."

Ethan laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure that'll be fun, watching you get all flushed."

You laughed at his words. "If anything, it's embarrassing. I mean, we aren't even out of college yet."

Ethan lets out a sigh. "Yeah, just a couple more months. Then we can finally move in together just like we always wanted."

"Yeah, in jersey." You groaned. "I love you and all, but I didn't know there were even cities in New Jersey. And the apartments... they... actually look nice."

Ethan laughed loudly over the phone. "You did not just say that."

"Well I've never been to New Jersey before!" You argued.

I'm so telling Luke about this." Ethan mutters.

"You aren't telling him anything." You hiss.

"Texting him as we speak." His voice was stern.

You looked back to the kitchen to see your family sitting happily and chatting. You start to imagine Ethan sitting next to your dad, laughing at whatever joke he said or him talking to your niece, agreeing with her on anything and everything. It made your heart break slightly.

There was shuffling on Ethan's end as he heard your sniffle.

"Hey babe you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just the cold." You answered.

"You should get inside then, get warmed up." Ethan noted.

"Yeah, I should." There was more shuffling on Ethan's end. "What are you doing?"

"Just getting in the car, quick stop to the store." He answered like it was obvious.

"Is it freezing there in Canada?" You asked.

"Uh, not really, which is surprising." Ethan joked.

You went back inside and sat on the couch, suddenly there was a doorbell at the door.

"Maybe you should get that." Ethan said.

"Right cause I'm the only one that isn't occupied with food in their mouth." You chuckled. "Be right back."

You got up and headed towards the door, expecting trade marketers. You unlocked the door, and your jaw dropped.

"Ethan? Ethan! What-what are you doing here? I thought you were with your family."

"You needed me more." He looked down at you as he kissed your forehead.

"Y/N, who's at the door?" Your grandmother, Sara appeared in the doorway. "And who is this fine young man?"

Your face flushed as you cleared your throat as you came up with a reply, Ethan coming up with one before you did.

"Oh, my name's Ethan." He introduced himself. "I'm Y/N's boyfriend."

"Ethan?" Your dad, Ray appeared. "Oh come on over here."

Ethan chuckled as he gave your dad a hug.

"Looks like you won't be grumpy this holiday after all." Nora joked, to which you scoffed at.

Ethan made his way back to you. "I forget something." His hands resting on your waist.

Ethan grinned at your confused face and leaned in and kissed you passionately, ignoring the cheers from your grandmother. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours for a moment.

"I love you." He mumbles seemly lost in your eyes.

Your hand caresses his cheek. "I love you too."

[vigilante-3073]

Fast Car

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: The three times that Sam watched Dean and Y/N sing along to one of their favorite country songs and the one time he didn't.

TW: Pre-established relationship, fluff, dancing, kissing, marriage and children.

Sam sat at a small table in the corner of the crowded country bar as he looked through news stories on his laptop. They had just finished a case in Oklahoma and Sam had the responsibility looking for their next hunt.

He looked up from his screen, eyes quickly finding his brother across the bar. Dean's hands were resting on his girlfriend's hips, holding her close as they sang along to Fast Car by Tracy Chapman.

"You got a fast car

I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won't have to drive too far

Just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs

And finally see what it means to be living."

Dean pulled away slightly, taking her hand and spinning her around with a wide smile. She laughed, leaning into him as he pulled her back in. Y/N had always loved country music and she had been slowly expanding Dean's musical inventory to include her favorite songs.

Fast Car had quickly become their song and they couldn't go on a road trip without playing it at least once. Sam couldn't bring himself to be annoyed because of how happy it made his brother.

How happy Y/N made his brother.

They were perfect together and there would always be a part of Sam that hoped to find a love like that again after he had lost Jess.

Dean's hands slid from her waist into the back pocket of her jeans as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

There was something almost sad about the song, it was something that he and Dean would probably never be able to experience.

A simple life.

Settling down and starting a family.

And Dean deserved it more than anyone in the world.

...

The impala sped down the highway, the music was blasting and the windows were rolled down. Sam sat in the backseat, staring out at the vast field that ran alongside the highway.

The summer air was hot and the roads were empty as they drove back to the bunker after a successful hunt.

Y/N was in the front seat, body turned towards Dean as they sung along to the song.

"So I remember we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

And I-I, had a feeling that I belonged

I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone."

Dean looked over at her, watching the wind blow her hair around as he drove. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her over to his side before his eyes returned the road ahead of them.

Sam watched them for a moment, smiling to himself as Dean drummed his hand against the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

Y/N turned her head, pressing a kiss to Dean's cheek. He smiled, thumb stroking across the material of her t-shirt fondly.

She rested her head down on his shoulder, hand resting on his knee as she listened to him sing along to the music.

...

Sam made his way down the hallway towards the kitchen after his run, glancing at his watch with a frown as he paused in the doorway.

Music was blaring from Y/N's speaker as her and Dean moved around the kitchen making breakfast. Y/N chopped up strawberries on a cutting board while Dean flipped a pancake in a pan with bacon crackling away on another burner.

Dean suddenly turned towards his girlfriend, using the spatula as a microphone as he sung to her.

"You got a fast car

We go cruising to entertain ourselves

You still ain't got a job

And I work in a market as a checkout girl

I know things will get better

You'll find work and I'll get promoted

We'll move out of the shelter

Buy a bigger house and live in the suburbs."

Y/N smiled widely, abandoning the knife on the cutting board before singing the next line into the spatula. Dean reached out and grabbed her hand, spinning her around before pulling her back against his chest.

Y/N laughed, hand resting on his forearm as they swayed together. Dean spun her back around before releasing her with a wink.

He turned back to the stove, flipping the pancake before sliding over to his girlfriend and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. His hands found her hips before pulling her away from her cutting board and into his arms. Dean spun her around in his hold, taking her hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist before guiding them in a few practiced steps. He held her close to himself, singing along loudly before pulling away and spinning her around.

Dean pulled her back against his chest, pressing a kiss to her temple before sweeping her back into their dance.

They glided around the room, he spun her a few more times before wrapping both of his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to her's in a gentle kiss.

Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair before they reluctantly broke apart and returned to their tasks.

Their relationship almost seemed effortless to Sam.

It was almost like everything else faded away when they were together. It was the purest form of love that anyone could hope to find in this messed up world.

...

Dean turned off the television, tossing the remote aside with a sigh, "Nothin' on, buddy," He muttered, looking down at the Terrier mix who blinked up at him from the floor. Dean grabbed his phone from the coffee table, clicking the power button and feeling relieved when he didn't see any notifications on his screen.

Sam was supposed to come over for dinner to see some of the renovations that Dean had done on the new house. Dean still couldn't believe how many changes had occurred in the last few years.

Dean had made the decision to leave hunting behind and finally made a life for himself. Sam was finishing up a quick case a few states over before going into his own version of hunting retirement. They had both given so much of their lives to hunting and now it was time to live for themselves.

Dean looked over at the bookshelf, his eyes finding the stereo sitting between the books. Dean stood up, making his way over and turning on the power. He flipped through the channels, quickly turning up the volume when he heard the familiar tune start.

"No way," He muttered.

"So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

And I-I, had a feeling that I belonged

I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car

Is it fast enough so you can fly away?

You gotta make a decision

Leave tonight or live and die this way."

He straightened up with a smile, "Baby, c'mere for a minute," Dean called. Y/N made her way into the living room of their home with their daughter held against her side.

"Is that-?" "Yeah... I thought that maybe my two favorite girls would wanna dance," He said.

"Of course," Y/N smiled.

Dean carefully took their daughter from her arms, cradling her in the crook of his arm before holding out his hand.

Y/N rested her hand in his, gold wedding band catching the soft afternoon sunlight pouring in through the window.

She wrapped her arm around him, smiling down at their daughter as he guided them around the living room. Dean carefully spun his wife before drawing her back in, singing down to their daughter as they swayed together.

This was the life he had always wanted and now he had it.

His beautiful wife, his baby girl, his brother, a house and the dog.

Dean never would have thought this kind of life would be possible for him and now he couldn't dream of living any other way.

He had everything he could possibly want and he was finally happy.

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.

Word count: 3,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.

That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.

I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.

Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.

Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.

It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.

It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.

You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'

Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.

What the hell.

That was entirely unnecessary.

You didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.

Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?

Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window. 

And then he saved you.

Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.

You replay the memory. Again.

The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.

He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.

What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?

For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.

Spider-man... 

Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.

Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.

Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.

With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.

Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.

Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.

You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are. 

The office.

There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.

Is this the life you managed to escape death for?

Is this it?

It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).

The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.

You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.

You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.

A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.

Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.

There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.

But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.

A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.

The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you. 

There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.

A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."

Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up. 

“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.

"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."

You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.

Spider-man...

In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.

He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).

A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?

--

When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.

'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'

You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.

Rude.

The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.

They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.

You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.

And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.

A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.

A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.

A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.

Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.

On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."

It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too. 

You take the cupcakes. 

It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.

You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.

But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction. 

When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door. 

It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.

The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.

It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.

You are going to make this goddamned train.

Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.

You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.

In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks. 

Oh god why...

Why?

You just want to live.

The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.

Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.

You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.

In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.

Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.

Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.

There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.

But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.

Is this the rest of your life?

In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.

Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.

Fuck.

It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.

God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?

You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.

What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.

Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.

There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.

Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set. 

Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop. 

You didn’t put that there. 

You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.

It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.

It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?

You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.

Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.

Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.

Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.

Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.

There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one. 

Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.

You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.

"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you. 

 “And the cupcakes," you add. 

There's no reply. 

~ To be continued.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[bajibitch]

Silly me - Clark Kent

"Your name?" The receptionist’ voice pulled you out of the shock you felt being at the infamous Daily Planet. You managed to say your name but it came out a bit shaky and he let out a soft chuckle. "You'll fit in great." The space you'd be working in was small like you expected but seeing the surrounding work spaces was a bit intimidating. It was easy to get distracted picking up pieces of the stories they chatted about but the dizziness that came with it was enough to remind you to focus. Where would you start, how was it that people found stories again?

“First day?” Looking up from your desk, you met a pair of enchanting blue eyes on a beautiful face. The smile he wore didn’t make it any easier to turn away. Your face was hot from the lack of preparedness, hopefully, he didn’t think you were forming a crush, it’d be embarrassing, he’d be right but you wouldn’t admit it.

“Is it obvious?” You thought you were playing it off well given that you managed to type out an exaggerated amount of the food article with little effort. “What am I doing wrong?” Surely an employee wouldn’t interrupt your work for nothing, or so you thought.

“Nothing, you seem to have it handled.” He eyed the screen with your nearly complete work. “I’m still cramming in yesterday's story.” His laugh was going to be in your mind later. Although it was short it managed to sound so wholesome and warming in the small time it had. “It’s just, I've never seen you around before.” His arm was resting on the computer monitor, if he was anyone else it would’ve irked you but he had good intentions so you’d ignore it for now.

“I started today, used to work at a different company in Oklahoma.“

“How was it there?” You considered offering him a chair to sit in since it felt as if he planned on hearing your life story.

“Given that it was my first job in journalism it’ll always have a special place in my heart, but I wanted to be somewhere more interesting.”

“You didn’t catch any stories?”

“Nothing worth mentioning, I did an article on food and the impacts of-” Nothing worth mentioning but I’ll list every one. You put a hand to your forehead as you cursed yourself for not catching the prattling sooner.

“Why’d you stop?” He took a glance around the office and stared back at you. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you sighed and went back to typing out your work. “I just have to finish this.”

“I’ll be out your hair then. It was nice meeting you… I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t get yours either.”

“Clark. Clark Kent.” You stopped your typing and locked eyes with him once again.

“Y/n.”

“Well, y/n, I’ll catch you later.”

The strange thing for you is that usually when people tell you that, they never meant it. It was more like an, I’ll see you should we meet again kinda ordeal, not a follow you out of the office kinda thing.

“What is it, Clark?” You turned to see him not too far behind. His suit seemed a tad too big for him but it added a soft look to him.

“Just checking in on you. How’d you feel about the job? It’s not too much is it?”

“You aren’t from here either, are you?” He tilted his head and his lips parted but nothing came out. “You’re nicer than plenty of the people I’ve met so far. Some of them get irritated from my smile alone.” That’s why you learned to hold a poker face, the city lost its charm rather quickly when you arrived. His shoulders dropped and his lips had its default curve that made him sweet on the eyes.

“I used to live out in the country too, but as much as they tried, they could never break my smile.” Oh, you had to admit by now that he was hard to hate, not that you ever did. His spirit was almost contagious, the smile on your face showing he already infected you, maybe a harmless work crush wouldn’t be bad after all.

“Ready to go?” The both of you turned to the woman who needed no introduction, her work spoke for itself, she was a bit of a celebrity herself. You were shocked to see him kiss her with no hesitation and looked away from the affection. It was clear he had no qualms with showing his love.

“See you, tomorrow.” Fuck my life. When you buckled yourself into the seat and began to drive away, you couldn’t help laughing at how naïve you were to think he wouldn’t be in a relationship.

[monimccoythings]

Till We Meet Again

Sequel to The way we were. I want it to turn it into a brief saga I'm just trying to figure out what I want to do. These are just some silly drabbles.

I just love one Logan trope and I swear you'll see it on almost every fic I post.

Word Count: 1131

Tags: implied alcoholism, f!reader, swearing.

Part 1

It took him several days before he mustered the courage to sneak inside Wade's bedroom. Fucker wouldn't waste a chance to invite him in, he'd be overjoyed if he found out he had been snooping around.

Honestly, Wade's room was as insane as its owner, posters and figurines of colorful ponies and cartoons decorated the walls and shelves. How could a grown ass man have a room like that was something he would never understand. The cherry on top would be the Disney sheets that he wouldn't even dare to touch with a ten foot pole. He could already smell what happened in there. It made him gag.

But he had to do it.

He needed to.

Over the course of those days he had gathered as much information as he could about the you of this world. Just to mentally prepare himself about what was coming.

Turns out you had been that universe's Logan's wife, and had perished in his arms while protecting him and Laura. No wonder she never talked about you. It was hard enough for him to even think about it, despite not knowing personally this other you.

Cold sweat formed on his skin at the thought of his version of you having shared the fate of this Y/N back in his universe. Would he be able to live with it. Would he spiral into another rampage of serial killing, self depreciation and alcoholism?

He looked at the pack of beers on the counter, his mouth felt dry. Maybe taking one would keep those thoughts away from his mind. Just numb him enough to think clearly. Alcohol had always been there for him in his darkest moments. The only constant in his life.

A flash of your tear-streaked face as his claws pressed against your neck crossed his mind.

He shook his head.

No.

'Stop trying to drown your problems with alcohol and fucking man up!'

One single look at the wedding band in his hand told him everything he needed to know to make a decision.

He touched the screen of that watchamacallit Wade had stolen.

Just one peek.

One peek and he would be satisfied.

Liar

When he stepped through that portal, he felt like a city boy that after being away for years finally returned back to his hometown. Everything was different, despite having been in that universe his entire life he found himself not having missed it at all.

Now, the only thing that tied him to that place was you.

He cursed loudly. It had been ten years since he had seen you. There was no way to know if you were still living in the same place, or the same city. Hell, he didn't even know if you had swapped jobs.

Fucking great, all this stress for nothing. He felt like an idiot. All of this had been a huge mistake. He should just-

A sudden memory came to him. There was this little shop, not very far away from where he had landed, you always loved to spend your free time there, and drag him along if you could. How much he had hated it back then, now he wished he could just spend one more Sunday morning there with you.

If he could get a whiff of your scent, maybe he could track you down and take a look.

He's just checking, he reminds himself. To make sure you are having a good life.

─────────────────────ⓧ─────────────────────

It didn't take him long to find it. It was faint, but it was still there.

His nose led him to a neighborhood in the deepest part of the Bronx. His brow furrowed in disgust, he didn't like that place at all; it smelled like burnt meat and bodily fluids. How could you live in a place like this? It made the dump he was sharing with Wade and Althea look like fucking Buckingham Palace in comparison.

You shouldn't be living there.

You were not made for a place like that.

He could- he could what? He tried to stop that train of thought, he really did. He wasn't allowed to think like that. Not anymore.

He could give you so much more.

He stops in front of what he assumes it's your building, nose crinkling in a sneer. He never had been one for fancy places, but goddamn it, you were way better set off when you two were together. One one corner you had piles of trash that overloaded the dumpster, and in the other you had some junkie recovering from his last trip. Charming.

*thump thump* *thump thump*

His head snapped up. He could hear your heartbeat coming down the stairs. He always joked that he could find you in a crowd just by your heartbeat. All the bravery he had gathered suddenly left him. He couldn't meet you face to face. It was for the best. Just looking from the alleyway would suffice.

Another beating joined yours, hopefully a neighbor. Becuase Logan didn't think he could handle as gracefully as he should seeing you with a new partner. Not without drawing blood.

His breath caught on his throat when you finally emerged from the building.

There you were, time had been nothing but kind to you. Besides some little wrinkles around your eyes and few grey hairs, you still remained as youthful as the day he had pushed you away. Your hair was shorter, and you seemed to have put on a bit more weight, which, honestly, looked great on you. His mouth watered when he saw the considerably fuller breasts pushing against the top of your nurse uniform.

Fuck you looked ravishing.

His hands twitched, wanting to run them all over your newfound curves.

It took every single amount of his willpower to refrain himself from lunging and taking you right there and there. He licked his lips in anticipation. His inner animal getting ready for the chase.

You looked at him and that had the same effect as a bucket of cold water. The smile on your face vanished, leaving only an unsure expression in its place. You took a step back using your arm to protectively shield whoever was behind you.

As much as he tried to understand your completely reasonable reaction, he couldn't deny how much it hurt his feelings watching you pale with dread at the sight of him.

Unconsciously, he took a step forwards. His heart breaking when he saw you take another step back. The animal in him was seething with rage and hurt at your rejection and he had serious doubt he could do anything to calm it down.

There would be no time to dwell on that, because after that he saw who was hidden behind you.

It was a child.

[mgghoney]

pairing// matthew gray gubler and reader || wc// 801

summary// what happened to kissing the homies happy new year?

"I heard you kissed a fan for the new years kiss."

You look up at your phone when Matt doesn't respond, and you slide open your drawer when you notice he's thinking.

"I did. On the forehead."

You rummage through your desk, blinking quietly when you realize you can't find what you're looking for.

"I saw photos... of her, I mean. Not of the kiss." You hum. "Every now and then the fan in me kicks at my rationality."

"Did you want one?"

"Don't go asking me that." You slide your hand to the parts you can't see, frowning when it isn't there either. "I don't know how you manage to be simultaneously the sweetest celebrity I know yet lack so many typical boundaries."

"I don't think it's a lack."

"I know it isn't. The universe returns the kindness you show others tenfold." You finally look up at the call, and Matt's got a brow raised as you huff at what he's holding. "I left it with you?"

"On accident. I've been making full use of the camera." He hums. "I'll return it to you with a new roll of film as long as you develop it for me."

"Of course." You nod. "That makes a lot more sense, actually."

"Oh, and another thing. Don't go—"

"sending them to other people. I know."

"No, I was gonna say you can post most of them except one."

"Will you tell me which one?"

"You'll know."

"I'm bracing myself for unsolicited dick pics right now." You roll your eyes, finding another camera as you dig through your tote. "H...uh? Oh, you swapped cameras with me!? I didn't even notice."

"I bought it back when it was newly on sale. Mine's all beat up."

"That means it's well loved." You hum, fingers smoothing over the yellow of the camera, raising a brow at the screen as Matt locks eyes with you.

"I'm excited to see what you do with it."

You laugh, tugging the drawer back open as you toss out a handful of folders, tweezers in hand as you raise a brow at him. "Yeah?"

"Expect a bit of love on yours too."

"Like biting or photos wise?" You pause to stare at the camera. "A 2016 model is kind of rare."

"I found it in Japan while out."

"Ah." You hum. "I should make you get me one next time you're there."

"You won't come with me?"

"Studying abroad is gonna cost me an arm and a leg. I'm already barely grazing by with my aid right now. Well, if you even count that as aid. My fault for picking New York." You huff, finger smoothing down the color on the dents.

"I suppose." Matt taps at the screen to get your attention, and you look up from the sheets strewn around you. "When do you fly back?"

"Why? You won't even meet up with me at the airport since we're in different cities."

"So I know when to send you stuff."

"Don't you have more recording in LA?"

"Mm, you never know where the wind brings you."

"I hope the wind blows me to early retirement." You mumble. "Doing what I love for a living would be nice too. Maybe I should mail Anderson some fanmail and beg for an internship."

"You want a call?"

"It'd be unfair to do that." You tap your desk, glancing at the tweezers. "Well, not unfair. I'll see where the wind takes me too."

"Is it sunny?"

"Here? Always." You pull the shades and let the sun spill in, humming quietly to yourself as you laugh. "Is it sunny there?"

"You know it is." He picks up his phone to walk you over to the back door, stepping out to stand in the sun.

"I bet the film will turn out super nice." You hum. "Stay still. I want a photo."

"Still thinking about starting that fanpage for me?"

"You want me to? The twitter fanpages but for you? A "what's MGG up to today?" account?" You look at the photos on your phone, and you hum. "You already have an update account. I don't need to use our friendship to tell others."

"I respect their dedication." His lip quirks upwards, and you laugh.

"I do too."

"So? I'm sure you're not just calling to talk to me about my new years kiss."

"Oh, yeah. I had a couple of questions for the story."

"I'm more than willing to answer them. I respect the dedication."

"What are we all if not dedicated to the bit?"

"Is this where the wind is taking you?"

"Yeah." You turn on the camera to snap a photo of him, humming quietly as you beam at him. "What am I if not living to entertain?"

"Living to enjoy, perhaps."

"Always."

[bahrtofane]

after pleading and much excitement on kylians’ end, you finally bite the bullet and take him with you to your hometown of algiers. 

kylian x algerian!reader

word count : 1.3K+

watch it: fluffy fluff fluff, mild over thinking and angst if u rly rly dig deep for it 

luv my country fr fr

—--

theres a small dent on the wall from where you banged your elbow so hard you swore you broke it. you were around 10. it's been years, and the little spot still stands. you never forget to run your thumb over the ridges, the cool wall warming under your touch.

It's been years, but the wall holds the memory, a mirror of you. each flick of your thumb ignites the scene inside your head over and over, you swear you can feel your elbow sting. you remember the way you hissed sharply and called for your mom, who came scuring from the hallway. and how your cousins all lined up to see the damage and soon teased you for being a baby. screeching at the 'crater' you left in the wall. your aunt snapped a picture of the comotion while she laughed hysterically, hand on her hip, head tossed back while the rest of the family filled in to check out the commotion. 

you were given a wet towel to keep in your elbow till the swelling went down. and the teasing never stopped, in fact you're bound to have it happen at any second. your cousins called you bulldozer for years, some still do. that's even your contact name in a few of their phones. 

it's so silly how such a little moment from so many years ago carries on. wasn't even your funniest moment in full honesty. you have much better ones. 

it's been years, and it remains one of your many contributions to your grandmother's little flat. cozy and quaint in the center of algiers. today you bring a new addition, kylian.

you joked about taking him once, just a passing comment while you showed him pictures from your last trip. he hummed, latching onto the idea like an excited puppy to a chew toy. bothering you with itineraries (as if you need one in your hometown?), your texts are a wall of flight screen shots at this point. and of course bombarding you with questions every second he got the chance. 

"should i pack light?"

"what cities will you take me to?"

"do you think i'll need to bring a lot of security?"

in truth, you were hesitant to bring him along.

 going back home is a feeling you can never get enough of. from the moment you step off the airplane and the familiar smell of your country hits your face, to your first dip into the mediterranean, a homemade meal, singing out of cars in the dead of night while you race through the city. 

bringing him is an intimate ordeal. your country is your first love, first home. she raised you in a sense. 

she is a part of him, the same as she is of you. but having him in your grandmother's home? introducing him to your very lively extended family? you don't know about that.

you were worried about your sanity as much as his. you know the questions will be never ending. he's your fiance now after all, wedding in the works. this is only going to add to the disaster that is wedding planning. you know you're going to have to squeeze in promises of inviting your 2nd cousins aunts cats neighbors gardener. 

and how could you forget, he's kylian. kylian mbappe. there's no way you're bringing him to the heart of algiers and going to be free to roam the streets as you please.

you know you'll never be able to do so on your own again once the media puts two and two together. good by freedom. it's easy in resorts or fancy hotels. everything can be arranged. but not here. 

you and kylian value your privacy dearly. french media has barely ever gotten a proper look at your face and you intend to keep it that way. but you don't think you can get away with that here. you want to show him real places that hold history and the people. not just fancy villas on the coast that cost more than you want to think about. 

he pleaded with you anyway, even after you voiced your concerns. "i have an agent and security for a reason. just take me and the rest will come easy. don't even worry."

you frowned, "it'll be in the summer, when everyone else and their mother is going."

"i just want to see it you know, authentically. i want to experience just a part of what you did growing up." he confessed, shy. 

and so you caved. and here he is. leaning against that same wall you rammed into all those years ago, fanning his face with a pile of notebook paper he found lying around after a long day of unpacking the gifts you bought for your family. 

he's had a long day of posing for pictures and videos, all of which you rolled your eyes at. it's nearing sunset, and you press your forehead against the familiar cool wall of one of the living rooms. it's going to be where you sleep for the next 2 weeks or so. 

the couches convert to beds and you get to play the age-old game of war with the mosquitoes that torment you. you haven't told kylian yet. he needs to be ambushed in the middle of the night for the full authentic experience. ha ha ha. 

you look back to where kylian is sat on the couch perpendicular to yours, hes given up on the fanning. hand under his thighs while he watches what he can of the balcony. you can see the sea from here. in all its beauty. the gentle wind it brings flutters the curtains while you hum. 

tomorrow he meets the rest of your family and you can't help the butterflies that pool in your stomach at the thought. your fiance, meeting the rest of what makes this house a home. you can't wait. for now though, all you want to do is nap.

you get up from your couch, sliding on your socks to press up against his side. even if its pushing near broiling temperatures. he doesn't complain, only bringing his hands to cup your face gently, giving your nose a peck. 

"its so beautiful here, " he sighs, "thank you for bringing me."

you hum into his lips, giving them a firm kiss, "you're welcome my love. i'll show you around tomorrow. it's time for my post flight nap."

he gives you a lazy smile, "yes please i was waiting for you to bring it up. it's past my nap time." he pouts.

you roll your eyes and throw one of the couches throw pillows against his chest. he manages to grab it, hurling it back at you. and while you're distracted he curls his hands against your side, tickling you till you yelp and thrash in his hold, back pressed against the couch while you gasp in between laughter. 

he finally lets you go and collapses on top of you, kissing any skin he can reach.

"okay get off, it's too hot for that." you groan.

he at least listens to that, peeling himself off you and retreating to the far end of the couch while you set up yours for what you know is going to be top 5 naps of your life, easy. 

against the gentle breeze and city sounds, you're lulled to sleep. in your vision you see kylian getting ready to do the same, reaching over to press one sound kiss on your forehead before settling down into his little bubble. 

you could do this forever you think. you're glad he came.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Anna Magnani (Rome Open City, Mamma Roma, The Rose Tattoo)—don't take my word for it, here are some of the things she was called during her career: "la lupa (the wolf) of Italian cinema," "passionate, fearless, and exciting," "the volcanic earth mother of all Italian cinema," "one of the most impressive actresses since Garbo," "Whenever Magnani laughs or cries (which is often), it's as if you've never seen anyone laugh or cry before: has laughter ever been so burstingly joyful or tears so shatteringly sad?" and maybe best of all, from Tennessee Williams, who wrote multiple roles specifically for her: "She is simply a rare being who seems to have about her a little lightning-shot cloud all her own...In a crowded room, she can sit perfectly motionless and silent and still you feel the atmospheric tension of her presence, its quiver and hum in the air like a live wire exposed, and a mood of Anna's is like the presence of royalty."

Rosemary Clooney (White Christmas)—Rosemary!!! Her singing voice is incredible, she looks stunning in everything she wears, she has this quiet gravitas on screen that I haven’t seen anywhere else!! She deserves to be known as a lot more than George Clooney’s Aunt (if anything, I think of him as Rosemary Clooney’s nephew who also went into the business). Also when she got older she had this amazing sexy raspy voice (which sadly was due to smoking a lot but doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s very very sexy)

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Anna Magnani:

An icon of post-war neorealist italian cinema - an unbelievably good actress. Also, the first non-english speaking actress to win the Oscar for Best Actress (in 1956)!

realness!! amid the typical hollywood pristine glamour anna magnani stuck out as sexy in a really real, grounded way. so much so that even shallow 40s hollywood allowed her to come over from italy to be in some high profile movies. an icon

She smoked, she drank, she didn't give a f-. Her acting was described as explosive, with a lot of emotions and drama and they called her a she-wolf. Playwright Tennessee Williams became an admirer of her acting and wrote The Rose Tattoo (1955) specifically for her to star in, a role for which she received an Academy Award for Best Actress, becoming the first Italian – and first non-English speaking woman – to win an Oscar.

Rosemary:

Rosemary Clooney made very few movies, and built her career mostly as a singer--however, anyone who has ever seen her in White Christmas understands that this was Hollywood's loss, because she exudes glamour and charm and does a wonderful job acting it as well. She's gorgeous, she has a beautiful voice, she has one of those faces that the screen just loves, and she is, frankly, hot as hell.

An absolutely amazing singer and so stunning. Her performance in that black dress in White Christmas just takes my breath away every time. She's also George Clooney's aunt.

She was a very cool woman, who had a very hard life. She had severe mental health struggles throughout her life and left the stage for quite a while, but fought hard to make her career comeback later in life with a little timely help from good friend and frequent collaborator Bing Crosby. She also duetted with Marlene Dietrich early in her career

Okay so obviously she's more a singer than an actress, but she was still one of the best musical actresses of the era! They just didn't know what to do with her. She really wasn't a dancer at all, so you'll see most of the numbers in White Christmas she's got a convenient prop to sweep around. However, this ~weakness brought about a love story for the ages! Dante Di Paulo (you may know him as the mustachioed townie rival to the Pontipees in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers) was hired to teach her to dance and they fell in love over rehearsals. Separated by filming schedules, Rosemary ended up marrying José Ferrer and breaking Dante's heart, but 20 years and two divorces from José later they met in traffic. Not about to miss her second chance, she honked her horn and yelled her phone number at him (talk about carpe diem). He moved in a couple of months later but they finally made it official in 1997 because "our grandchildren want us to get married". They were utterly devoted to each other and he was very much a Wife Guy.

when she. when she. 'love you didnt do right by me' from white christmas-

She was very funny and very civic-minded, she campaigned with RFK during his presidential run. She had a very close bond with her nephew (that George Clooney yes), he even had her songs on the playlist when he proposed to his wife! She didn't enjoy singing this song from White Christmas, as it wasn't quite in her range, but she's incredibly powerful and undoubtedly very hot in this scene (fun fact, oscar winner George Chakiris is one of her dancers here, before his big break!) -