#Men in Engine briefs

[athletictaipan]

[athleticcollection]

[alg3a]

auspicious (pt. 1)

jayce x f!reader x viktor / jayvik x f!reader

4k, sfw for now, no use of y/n

description: Viktor and Jayce’s new lab assistant is the hottest topic at a council gala. After defending herself all night, an accidental confession leads to tension in the workplace.

warnings: suggestive content, brief and light misogyny (don’t worry), manipulative reader, lab assistant dynamic, basically the last third is foreplay.

a/n: This is my first ever tumblr fic! If you guys would like, i will add an nsfw second part.

Update: second part added!

Say what you will about Councilor Salo, but his galas never disappointed. There must have been three hundred of the city’s most influential people scattered about the grand ballroom, which stretched further than you could see with your naked eye. It was the first you’d ever seen of these exquisite parties, and you silently hoped that it wouldn’t be the last.

You’d been the lab assistant of the two Hextech partners for around three months now. With the public eye being enthralled with the activities of the two intelligent scientists, it wasn’t long before the spectacle included you, their pretty new lab assistant. You were in your final year in the academy’s undergraduate program and had been a promising enough engineering student to be hired by Viktor and Jayce. Your name was a prevalent one in every inventor’s competition and innovator’s fair, so naturally they had heard of you before your interview. From what you heard, there were nearly fifty other applicants (mostly girls) and yet they hired you on the spot. Naturally, once this story aired, the press was obsessed with you. Piltover Gazette did an entire piece on you about a month into your employment.

With all the attention, Jayce thought it might be a good idea for you to tag along at galas and parties as the plus-one of both men. They never brought dates, so the position was always wide open. Although, Jayce did usually leave with a plus-one.

You wore a deep red sleek gown with a plunging neckline and an absent back. The men matched their ties to your dress, but the rest of their outfits were mostly black and ivory. It wasn’t long before you were whisked away to the dancefloor by influential older men, who talked your ear off about how lucky you must find yourself to be shadowing two promising young inventors. You cringed each time you heard it. You were certainly lucky to have landed the position, but the way they phrased it made it seem like you were some teenage girl who was asked to the school dance by the two cutest boys in school. It wasn’t as trivial as that. Each day, you worked tirelessly alongside their genius minds to find solutions to real world problems using Hextech. You and Viktor spent countless nights asleep on opposite ends of the worn lab couch so that you could continue working at any hour.

Eventually, you grew tired of the misogyny from older male benefactors. You’d done enough socializing for the night, now it was time to patronize the open bar.

You found a spot between a woman in a gold dress and a man in a white tuxedo and asked the bartender politely for a whiskey sour. Once you finished speaking, the man in the white tuxedo turned to you.

“I recognize you,” he said, the scent of his aftershave mixing with the alcohol on his breath. “You’re the Hextech girl, aren’t you? I read your article in the Gazette.”

You sighed as the bartender handed you your drink, pressing a polite smile to your lips with the exhale. “Yes, that’s me. It’s a pleasure.” You hold out your hand and he brings it to his lips with a kiss longer than you would have liked.

“The pleasure is all mine, dear,” he said, setting his glass down. “You know, it’s very uncommon for an undergraduate girl to land such an auspicious spot amongst lead researchers at the academy.”

Here we go again. In the time it takes for him to finish the same spiel you’d heard all night, you finish your drink in one continuous sip. You punctuate the end of his sentence by putting your glass down roughly on the counter.

“Yes, I’m incredibly lucky,” you say, your polite smile turning vaguely murderous. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jayce and Viktor approaching the bar.

“Enough prattle from me,” the man says and holds out his pasty hand once more. “I think it’s time for a dance.”

“Are we interrupting?” Jayce asks, his usual charming smile adorning his chiseled face.

“Not at all!” The man in white says, jovially. No doubt feeling blessed to speak to the men whose egos he spent the last five minutes stroking.

“In fact you came at the perfect time,” you say, smushing yourself between Jayce and Viktor, and wrapping your arms around their arms, emboldened by the alcohol and desperate for a way out of this conversation. “We were just discussing how positively fortunate I am to be working for two accomplished, ambitious, handsome young inventors.”

Viktor furrows his eyebrows at you, then looks back up at Jayce. “Is that so?” He asks, suspicion dancing in his eyes.

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, then bring your attention back to the man in white. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I’ll have to decline your offer to dance. But I’m sure you understand. When a young woman like myself is called upon by men so far above my humble station, I simply must recognize how—what was the word you used earlier—how auspicious my position is.”

The man seems lost in your rambling, but you notice Jayce and Viktor smiling at one another and avoiding the man’s gaze.

“Ehem, well alright,” the man says, finally. “You three have a pleasant night.”

“Thank you,” Jayce says, his smile becoming a smirk. “We will.”

Jayce places his hand on your lower back and guides you away as Viktor follows, now placing his weight on his cane.

“Are we missing something?” Viktor asks.

“We came to check up on you,” Jayce said. “That guy at the bar was eyeing you like you were his next cocktail.”

“Gross,” you shudder at the thought. Jayce’s hand rubs the exposed skin of your lower back gently. Your eyes dart toward the ground at the sudden awareness of the intimacy of the touch. You shrug off the chill heading up your spine. “Please, never invite me to one of these again. I’ve heard enough old men insinuating that I’m the lab’s little piece of ass.”

“They’re saying that?” Viktor said sharply, stopping in his path as he turned to face you, his hand on your shoulder.

“Well, not exactly that, but practically every conversation is monopolized by my male counterpart lecturing me on what a privilege it is to spend my days ogling at you two.”

Jayce snickers a bit, but Viktor shoots him a stern look.

“That’s highly inappropriate. I’m terribly sorry you experienced such a blatant display of the antiquated beliefs these upper houses hold.” Viktor shakes his head as if he is shaking off the experience like a dog drying off.

“Vik and I were just talking about leaving, anyway,” Jayce says, his hand resuming its ministrations on your back. “We can call a car and go, just say the word.”

You look around the room and remember the reason you’re here in the first place. Galas are the primary way for the two inventors at either side of you to network and receive funding for their projects. Jayce abhorred the politics and the whole reason exhausted, introverted Viktor even bears the social tedium of these parties when he’d rather be slaving away in the lab is because he knows none of their ventures can be broadened without doing the dance. In a singular moment you realize that if they can stomach the routine dreariness of the social game that these parties provide, so can you. You are their prized assistant after all.

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Are you sure?” Viktor asks, his head tilting.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you nod. “I just have to get used to the manner at which these sorts of events go on. But I can do it. If you’ll recall, adaptability was a strength on my resume.”

This earns a laugh from both of the men. Jayce removes his hand from your lower back to rub your shoulder softly. “I think we glossed over that part.”

Viktor stops laughing suddenly, which elicits a raised eyebrow from you.

“What?” You ask, your eyes darting between Viktor and Jayce. Jayce’s lips press together in a tight seal as if he caught himself letting something slip. “What do you mean?”

Just in time to save them from the obviously impending awkward situation, a man in an all black suit approaches.

“Gentlemen, if I may borrow your lovely assistant for a dance–”

You felt your cheeks growing hot with every word he spoke. You were so incredibly tired of old men here thinking they could just ask politely and receive your body to use in whatever stupid waltz they wanted to try their hand at. “Gods, I don’t–”

“My apologies,” Jayce said, interrupting what he was sure would be an outburst on your part. “I’m afraid our lovely assistant is spoken for, for the rest of the night.”

Viktor punctuated his sentence with a nod and a gentle squeeze of your upper arm.

“I see,” the man said, his face betraying his civility. “Well, find me if that changes.”

As soon as the man was out of earshot, Viktor released your arm. “Call that car, Jayce.”

“On it,” he said, already beginning to make his way to the front of the ballroom.

“I’ve been where you are,” Viktor said, his nimble fingers trailing downward from where he had been squeezing your arm. He lifts your hand and places it on his wrist so that you cling to him as the two of you walk toward the exit together. “When I was Heimerdinger’s assistant, I was often undermined. Although, I had the distinct privilege of not being a beautiful young woman. While I can relate to your frustration, the misogyny and objectification you’re experiencing aren’t exactly things Jayce and I have experienced. But we’re going to do our best to quell it for you.”

You look up at him and find his hardened expression fixed on the door. “Thank you.” Those two words will suffice for now, but Viktor’s promise warms your heart in ways that a simple thank you cannot express.

Jayce finds the two of you as you exit into the grand hallway. “Car’s waiting outside.” He takes his coat off and drapes it over your shoulders, not paying much attention to your hand on Viktor’s arm.

The three of you pile in the back of the limousine. You sit sandwiched between the two men, relishing in the warmth radiating from their bodies after the few steps outside in the cold night. Viktor stretches his leg outward in the spacious backseat while Jayce leans back and groans. Clearly you aren’t the only one exhausted from the antics of the night.

“Where will I be taking you three?” The driver asks, his eyes visible in the rearview mirror.

“Two stops, if possible,” Jayce speaks up, leaning forward once more to be heard better. “The laboratory block of the academy and the East Dormitories.”

“You guys are going to the lab? It’s almost midnight.” You ask, turning to Jayce before realizing how the proximity of the backseat brings your face so close to his.

“Always work to be done,” Jayce says, glancing over your face before giving you a little more space. “But don’t worry, you’ve had a long night. You don’t need to do any assisting again until tomorrow morning.”

You look over at Viktor momentarily, to see him staring out the window as the car begins to move.

“If it’s alright, I think I’d like to go to the lab, too,” you say, softly. You can’t help but feel as though you’re inviting yourself to some clandestine meeting, as if you don’t have as much of a reason to be at the lab as they do.

Jayce looks over at Viktor, not for confirmation but for something else. Humor, maybe?

“Of course,” Jayce smiles softly. He shifts his attention to the driver again. “On second thought, just take us to the labs, please.”

The driver nods as he picks up speed and peels out of the driveway. For some reason, your heart pounds. It isn’t abnormal for you and the two men to stay ridiculously late at the lab. In fact, it’s more common than leaving before midnight.

You become suddenly aware of the long slit that opens your deep red dress, and you cross your legs.

“Jayce I wanted to ask you something,” you say, mustering up the courage to recall the slip-up from earlier. “What did you mean when you said you glossed over my resume?”

“Well…” Jayce looks over at Viktor, which makes you do the same. Now he’s definitely paying attention, his eyebrows two firm lines scrunched above his angular nose.

Viktor finally decides to chime in, and you know exactly why: Jayce isn’t a good liar.

“We had lots of applications,” Viktor said. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but…then why did you hire me?”

“You had a very promising interview,” Viktor says, now avoiding eye contact.

“You’re lying to me,” you say, more accusatory than you meant it to be.

“We should just tell her, Vik,” Jayce mutters, almost under his breath. In response, Viktor’s hard expression softens. Perhaps out of relief?

“Tell me what?”

“Fine,” Viktor says, finally, with an exhausted sigh. “I’m too tired to persuade you against it.”

Jayce puts a hand so low on your thigh that it’s almost on your knee. “First, it’s important that you know that we would have hired you regardless. You’re so incredibly talented and you’ve been such a good assistant; we have no doubt in our minds that you’re the perfect person for this job.”

“Regardless of what, Jayce?”

“A little help, Vik?” Jayce asks after a sigh of helpless frustration.

“We sent everyone else home after your interview,” Viktor said, still looking out of the window, his arm resting on the ledge of the door, fidgeting with the handle. “When we saw you for the first time, we decided we wanted to see you more often.”

“What?” You feel your face growing hot. Anger? Something else entirely?

“The first note I wrote during your interview just said ‘beautiful,’ and I don’t think I wrote anything down after that,” Jayce admitted.

“You can’t be serious,” you say at a volume so low it might be a whisper. Anger. Definitely anger. “All night…all night I was swatting away guys who were objectifying me…accusing me of just being your pretty little assistant. I thought it was just misogyny. I thought they just couldn’t believe a girl was capable of keeping up with you two…but apparently they were right.”

“That’s not the case, at all,” Viktor said, louder than you’d ever heard him. “It couldn’t be further from the truth. We weren’t objectifying you. You deserve respect for your accomplishments, and those accomplishments are numerous.”

“He’s right, it’s not like we just hired you to look at,” Jayce said, trying to reconcile the situation. “And it’s not like I didn’t write notes during your interview because there wasn’t anything to write. I stopped writing because I was captivated by you.”

Suddenly the weight of the situation falls onto you, all at once. These men, your bosses, your best friends, the two smartest, most accomplished scientists in Piltover…they were attracted to you.

“For three months?” You ask, softly, more to yourself than to them.

“Yes,” Viktor answered. “We understand if you’re upset with us.”

The car slowed to a stop against the curb of the laboratory building of the academy.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go into the lab anymore,” Jayce said, beginning to lean forward and opening his mouth to address the driver. “Hey, sorry, could you–”

“No,” you say, your words final. “I’m going into the lab with you.”

Your lips are a deep red firm line. Your eyes are unreadable, and neither of the boys can tell what you’re thinking. Even you hardly know, but one thing is certain: you find yourself in an auspicious position. You didn’t need the two boys to validate you for everything listed on your resume. They knew you were intelligent, and more importantly, you knew. What you didn’t know is that they found you beautiful. So much so that they hired you just to see you more often.

You’d spent the whole night trying to defend your own honor, being shaken by men with accusatory, wandering hands. More than that, you’d spent the night wandering awkwardly for the benefit of your bosses. Now, it was time to return the favor.

“If you’re sure,” Jayce said, pushing open the car door and stepping out onto the curb, holding it open for you as Viktor exited through the other door. As you brushed past Jayce, you let his coat fall delicately down your shoulders, revealing the deep backline of the dress.

You turn over your right shoulder, just enough for your face to be past profile, and narrow your eyes at him. “I’m sure.”

Once Viktor is out of the car, the three of you walk toward the large glass doors that lead to the lobby of the laboratory building. You stop in front of the keycard sensor and watch as Viktor pats down his pant pockets in search of his key card.

“Sorry, one second,” he says.

You approach him, with no sound but the clicking of your heels on the cold pavement below, and slide your hand into his coat pocket. You watch his jaw clench, never taking your eyes off his face as you pinch the plastic card between your pointer and middle finger. You pull it out like a cigarette before waving it in front the boys’ faces and tapping it against the small metal sensor. It beeps with a green flash and you hand the card back to Viktor. Neither of them says a word.

You enter through the glass doors, but at the lack of footsteps behind you, you turn around. The men still stand, staring at you, mouths slightly agape.

“What?” You ask. “Aren’t you coming?”

Jayce coughs, as if fighting something in his throat, then takes a few steps forward and follows you.

You press the call button on the elevator and wait as the boys stand on either side of you.

“If you’re upset with us, please say so,” Viktor said, his voice bordering pleading.

“Upset?” You tilt your head to look up at the man beside you. Even in heels they were both taller than you. “Do I look upset?”

“I–uh well, I am not sure. You look…focused.”

You were definitely focused. Yes, you were playing with them. Wasn’t it only fair that you return a bit of the awkwardness provided by their sudden confession in the car? This was you getting even for that embarrassment, and you’d soon be getting even for the long-kept secret, as well.

“Strange,” you say as the elevator door opens before you. You step in and turn to face the door. “Jayce, press four.”

He does as you say.

“And how do you think I look, Jayce?” You ask, your eyes shifting toward him in the confined space of the elevator. He repeats that same little choked cough from before, except now it sounds closer to him clearing his throat.

“I think you look very good.”

You smile at him. Not a kind one, but the sort of condescending smile one gives a child who gave the wrong answer. A cute answer, though.

“Thanks,” you say, your eyes returning back to the door. “But I was asking if you thought I looked angry.”

The door beeps open and you are the first to leave. As you walk down the long hallway, you hear the boys walking a yard behind you. They’re nervous, that much you can sense on the cold bare skin of your back.

You stop at the lab door at the end of the hall and wait for the boys to catch up. It’s the biggest lab on the fourth floor.

Viktor now has his keys at the ready and unlocks the large wooden door, then holds it open for you to enter before the two boys. How spoiled you are.

You saunter into the lab, letting Jayce’s coat fall all the way down your shoulders before draping it on a stool next to the counter. They attempt to ignore you, bee-lining toward their desks in the lab but you catch each time their eye wanders to you on the opposite side of the room. Often they alternate, glancing over while the other is talking about the equations they're working through or the tools they need to assemble something. Every so often, they look over at you at the exact same time, following whispers you can’t quite make out, and when they do it is absolutely silent.

Meanwhile, you’re pouring the wine that you’ve been stashing in the cabinet meant for volatile chemical solutions. You’ve laid out three glasses, but you only fill the one in the middle. You sip from it slowly, your eyes peeking out from above the glass rim so you can catch them every time they look over at you.

“What are you doing?” Jayce asks, exasperatedly, finally.

“What do you mean?” You ask, and continue to sip your wine.

“We said we were sorry–”

“No, actually you didn’t.” You finish your glass and set it back down between the two empty glasses. “You said you understood if I was mad. And you tried to explain yourselves.”

“We are sorry,” Viktor said. “Terribly sorry. For lying, and for…objectifying you.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t objectification?” You said, still bitter despite the joy you extracted from teasing these poor boys.

“It doesn’t matter what we think we did or did not do,” Viktor said, the thickness of his accent swallowing his nervous words. “What matters is that you are hurt, and that we are terribly sorry.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Eh…you’re not?” It wasn’t often that Viktor sounded confused, so you relished the question.

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Jayce asked.

You poured wine into the two glasses on either side of your own and smiled as you looked down at the liquid filling them. You pushed the glasses toward them and raised your eyebrows expectantly. As if well trained, they walked over to you at the counter and picked up their glasses, taking small sips each.

“You could call it disbelief,” you said. “Or plain shock.”

“I understand that we sprung a lot on you all at once–” Viktor started to say, but you raised your hand.

“I’m not in disbelief because you’re attracted to me, Viktor, I’m far too self-assured for that.”

Jayce stifles a laugh.

“I’m in disbelief because I’ve wasted three months pretending not to be attracted to either of you,” you say, coming out from behind the counter and going to sit on the couch in the center of the room. You’d done an excellent job decorating their lab and had managed to make it feel like a home rather than a detention room.

“What are you saying?” Jayce asks, setting his glass down and stepping toward you. Viktor follows his example.

“I’m saying that if you had just told me ages ago that you two felt that way, I’d be laughing at the men who asked to dance with me tonight instead of clenching my fists. I’ve spent three months pushing aside any thought of you two outside of professional settings because I didn’t want to be the naive little lab assistant fawning over her bosses.”

A strap of your dress slips off of your left shoulder, and you let it.

“What a waste,” you scoff as you lean back into the cushions of the couch. You pick your hair up so that it falls over the cushions and cascades like a waterfall.

“So…” you watch as the gears in Jayce’s genius brain turn, “if we had told you sooner then–”

“Then you could have had me sooner.”

NSFW PART TWO????

[ceilidho]

'still wakes the deep' au

prompt: You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works. First Meeting masterlist

-

Choppy waters like Neptune’s eye meet your gaze when you look back at where you came from, the land on the other side but a beige striation on the horizon. 

“Afraid of heights, doctor?” your escort asks, his amusement borderline distasteful. It must stroke their ego to watch newcomers come aboard and flounder, gawking at the swells and waves crashing against the oil rig, each wave so cataclysmic that it’s a wonder the structure stays upright. A wonder of engineering, that is. 

The rig manager stands closer to the railing, staring without fear out into the ocean surrounding you. His sea legs are likelier studier than the ones that wash up ashore every fourteen days when he’s due for his OSHA mandated break. His knees don’t even buckle at the sight of the barnacles clinging nerve-wrackingly high up on the rig legs. Far too high up for comfort. 

“No, sir,” you reply, shaking your head. “Just water.”

He barks a laugh at that. “Plenny o’ that around here. Wouldn’y go leaning my head over the rail then, if I was you.”

You take another look down, balking at the frothy white streaking the latticework barrier around the jacket legs. No worries there; there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll be going anywhere near the rails. You’re too high up to know for sure, but you wonder if there are sharks plumbing the depths beneath the rig, excited by the noise and activity on board. 

You’d be shark chum if you went overboard. Beyond that, you’d be fish food; no sympathy from the sea to be found this far from land. 

“Where should I set up?” you ask instead. 

Sensing your eagerness to get started—and to get away from the edge of the rig—he gestures for you to follow him and sets off towards the door closest to you, leading you into the interior of the rig. “This way, doc—got a room already set up for ye. Cozier in there than out here.”

The first few days aren’t so bad after that. You spend the first day getting unpacked, your suitcase already waiting for you in your quarters, which doubles as your office, and then turn in early after prepping for the next day. 

As anticipated, you spend the next day hunched over the toilet bowl, stomach roiling from spending too long staring at the turbulent waters below. You’ve done this before but it never gets any easier. Despite your chosen field of research, you’re suited for dry land, not the sea. It’s the price you have to pay though. 

No coffee that first morning. Just tea to help settle your stomach. And it does for a bit—lets you get through your first day worth of tests without you upchucking while collecting water samples from the discharge point. You’ll save your indoor work for the days when the crests of the waves are high enough to spray the working deck. By dinner, your stomach is a little more settled, but still you elect to eat in your quarters instead of with the workers in the mess. 

You haven’t been on the rig long enough to have made any enemies, nor do you think that’s something that’ll happen during your brief time on board, but you definitely haven’t made any friends. It comes with the territory. The men that work on these rigs out in the middle of the ocean—even the ones on land, for that matter—tend to view your kind with distrust at the very least, if not outright hostility. 

It’s hard to blame them. The purpose of your visit isn’t to shower them with praises. You’re stationed on the rig for the next few days to collect data and samples to assess the environmental impact of the rig’s operations. It puts you somewhat at odds with them, the outcome of your work being potentially to the detriment of theirs. 

Some whisper the word like blasphemy. Government worker. They say it like you’re the Baba Yaga or a witch living in a cottage at the edge of the village, like uttering the word too loudly will summon you. There’s too much work to do around the rig for them to cluck their tongues like gossipy hens, but the men find time for it anyway. You’d roll your eyes if you were any greener. 

The truth is though, you’re used to it, and at this point in your career, you don’t have it in you to act like it’s such a shock that they wouldn’t give you the red carpet treatment. All you need is a hot cup of coffee, an office (or even just a desk) to write your reports, and some space to conduct your research without being badgered with questions.

Most of the men tend to blur together, a medley of fluorescent yellow hard hats and navy coveralls, respirators strung around their necks and goggles covering their eyes. It’s easy enough to mistake them for one another. 

Only one of them has managed to catch your eye so far, though you can’t say it’s for a particularly good reason. Of the lot of them, he’s the loudest. Which is saying something, considering that the crew tend to speak in shouts and hollers to make up for the crashing waves beneath them and the howling winds above them. He’s also among the tallest, broad shouldered and muscled—a former first responder or military, if you had to guess, though you keep your assumptions to yourself. 

You know better than to ask questions around him because you’ve learned in the short time that you’ve spent on the rig not to give him—Soap, they call him, or MacTavish when the rig manager is particularly pissed off—even an inch. 

It’s another crew member that gives you that heads up. “Din’y pay him any mind.”

“Who?” you ask, looking up from your work.

The crew member nods to the man posted on the other side of the main deck. “Soap. Bit of a showboat, that one. Always stirrin’ up the boys, gettin’ ‘em all riled up. Din’y let him distract ye too much.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You look back down at the data sheets in front of you. “I’m not worried though. He hasn’t been too much trouble.”

Famous last words. 

He isn’t too much trouble until he suddenly is; until he’s suddenly everywhere, always in your way somehow. Not so much underfoot as just always around the corner waiting with his stupid smug smirk that you’ve grown to despise and half-lidded electric blue eyes roving up and down the length of you. Aggravating you at every turn. 

Your first meeting is an accident. At least, it seems that way, and likely is—he seems too blunt for coincidences or chance meetings, happy to tell you to your face that he manipulated the situation in order to get you on your own. 

You’re wandering down one of the many circulatory hallways and slightly lost when a door suddenly opens, blocking your way. A jumpsuit-clad man twice your size walks out, his hair just brushing the top of the doorframe. Though you recognize him instantly, you’d never gotten close enough for the details to cement in your mental image of him. Up close, you get a better look.

The faint lines around his eyes and mouth betray either his age or the life he’s lived. Weathered; bronzed from days at a time spent under the sun. You’d noticed the mohawk earlier, but staring at the side of his head now, you can see the faint puckering of a healed wound splintering out from his temple into his hairline. Though the sides of his head are freshly shorn, the scar looks old—maybe a year, maybe more. 

When he notices that he’s not alone in the hall, his head turns in your direction and he stops, one foot still in the other room. Two thick brows go up at the sight of you standing there with your tablet clutched to your chest. 

“Hullo gorgeous,” Soap purrs, pupils suddenly pinpricks and your stomach drops. 

Because of course he would. You’d long figured he might be an arrogant piece of work from what little you’ve observed of him from across the rig, but you should’ve known he’d also be a flirt. He’s too good-looking not to be one. Tall and broad, with biceps the size of your head. You’re sure he rolls his shirt sleeves up just to feel them strain against the muscles of his arms. You certainly can’t help the way your eyes are drawn there. 

“Ah ken who ye are,” he says, taking a step towards you until the tips of his boots nearly touch yours. The door is still wide open behind him, swinging slowly towards the wall behind it. Soap towers over you easily, tipping his head to stare down at you. Your lips press into a tight line when his eyes drop to your chest, staring at the outline of your tits through your cardigan. 

“Okay,” you say through stiff lips.

“Yer that lass from the government. Ah thought ye'd be auld,” he jokes, shit-eating grin on his face. 

You nearly groan. It’s too early for this shit and you’re too tired from being up all night working on your report on the rig’s discharge water quality. 

“Well, I’m not,” you reply woodenly instead, altogether unimpressed with him. 

For as fit as he is, you’re not here to flirt or hookup, and you’re good at separating work and your personal life. If anyone manages to get under your skin enough to tempt you, it won’t be the man undressing you with his eyes while covered in a thin layer of grime and sweat. 

“Nae, yer no’,” he agrees, voice a low burr. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m John, by the way.”

“I know.”

“…It’s polite tae give yer name when someone introduces thersel's tae ye.”

“I’d rather you just call me doctor.”

“Doctor, eh?” Soap purrs, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Dae ye dae house calls, doc? Hae been feelin’ a wee bit feverish lately.”

You can’t help the way your cheeks heat at his comment. “Not that kind of doctor. Do you mind getting out of the way?”

“Jesus, I din’y ken ye’d be so fuckin’ prickly. Thought ye government workers were cheery a' the time.”

“Not when we have work to do,” you bite out, decidedly uncomfortable with his shameless perusal and eager just to get on with your day. “Can you move please? I have somewhere to be.”

All that does is force him to take another step closer, toe-to-toe with you now. You should’ve known he’d take that as an invitation. He reeks of grease and brine, the smell pungent and clinging to his skin and clothes. Almost like he sleeps and works in the same pair of coveralls instead of bringing his dirty clothes down to the laundry facility like everyone else at the end of the week. 

You tell yourself to stop staring at where his coveralls open to a sweat-slicked chest, dark hair poking up over the neckline, but your eyes don’t comply. A small cross dangles from a chain around his neck, nestled in the hair just above his pecs. 

“Good Catholic lass, are ye?” Soap asks, noticing the focal point of your gaze.

You scrunch up your nose at that. “No. I didn’t—it’s none of your business anyway.”

The stutter is where his eyes light up, a little gleam in the blue that lets you know you’ve caught his interest. Like seeing a storm well off in the distance and bracing for it anyway, knowing that you’re in its path no matter what you do. 

“A’right, doc, Ah'll leave ye tae it. Gotta get back myself anyway,” he says, rolling his shoulders back and standing up taller, and it’s only in that moment that you realize how low his neck had been bent in order to get closer to you. “Wait. I can’y let ye go lookin’ like that.”

You’re about to ask him what he means when he suddenly grabs you by the front of your cardigan and pulls you towards him, getting the grease on his hands all over the fabric. Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull as he pops the topmost button into its corresponding hole, the only one you’d left purposefully loose. 

The only reason you don’t snap at him to take his hands off you is because your tongue is a knot in your throat. 

“There we go,” Soap coos when the button is in, looking down at his handiwork all over the front of your shirt. “Lookin’ like part o’ the crew already.”

Your heart pounds in your chest long after he lets you go. When he steps to the side, the door flush with the wall by now, you dart around him, walking away as fast as your legs can carry you without sprinting. You ignore the way he belts out a laugh at your swift departure. Ignore the way your stomach cramps at the sound as well. 

He might end up being more trouble than you thought.

[smileysuh]

ride night

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader I ft. Johnny

🔮 preview. “You always told me you had a thing for older men. Said I wasn’t your usual type- not daddy enough for you, well, here you go, baby. Let daddy hear you moan for my cock.” You seriously can’t believe this is happening. All you can do is try to relax while Hyuck fucks you stupid in some dive bar bathroom stall, your core still throbbing and desperate after six orgasms from a vibrator while on his bike. The fingers on your oversensitive bud are unrelenting, just like your boyfriend, and at this point, you can’t even bring yourself to care that his ride night dad is listening in, only a few feet away. 

tw/cw. Exhibitionism, riding a Harley with a vibrator inside of you, multiple orgasms, fucking in a bar bathroom while someone (John) listens in, overstimulation, unprotected sex, vibrator as a ball gag, voyeurism, dirty talk, praise, choking, brief pussy eating, Hyuck has tattoos, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.9k

🍭 aus. Established relationship au, motorcycle au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. The I love Harleys saga continues but this time with NCT

You met Lee Donghyuck in the winter of your life. It was all cold weather, windy days and rain streaks against your apartment window. When you bumped into him at a bar, and he’d pulled you over to tell you that you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, things began to get brighter.

It’s been five months now, and the warmth of spring turning into summer matches the heat Donghyuck has brought into your existence. He’s enthusiastic, and so so good at making your day sparkle. 

A self-proclaimed ‘motorcycle skid man’ with tattoos and a generally bad attitude toward others to match, Hyuck has been raving about how excited he is to finally have a girl to take on his Harley night rides, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just as stoked to be joining him in this aspect of his life.

You’ve been on his bike a handful of times since the riding season started, and while you’re getting used to the loud, vibrating engine, you’ve never been a backpack for more than fifteen or so minutes with the speed he goes at. This will be your first time on a longer trip, as his friends usually take a scenic route two or so towns over to get drinks at one-off dive bars.

He pulls infront of your apartment, and your entire body is thrumming with an excited energy you can’t even put into words. When he takes off his helmet, and shakes out his shaggy dark hair, you swear he looks almost godlike. The tattoos on his hands and neck are visible, but the rest of his intricate inkings are covered in a hoodie and ride gear. 

“Hey, princess,” he grins, pulling out one of his bluetooth earbuds to hand to you. “Are you ready for this?”

“Uh huh.” You accept the earbud, slotting it into place.

“We’re going to stop at my bike dad’s place to get you proper gear,” Hyuck explains. “He called me earlier and gave me a talking to about not being too much of a dick head with you on the back.”

Your Harley lover has found a family within his motorcycle fanatic friends, one of which, is a man named John who you’ve met twice. He’s always preaching about safety, as he’s been in the motorcycle scene for much longer than your baby rider boyfriend, who’s only been riding for two or so years.

There’s always a risk involved with motorcycles, and John has had too many friends who’ve gotten into accidents, too many close calls for comfort. 

The first time you’d met John, Hyuck had darted off to get drinks, and in the loud seclusion of a corner in the bar, John had warned you not to let Hyuck take risks with you. “He’s only brought a girl around once,” the twenty-nine year old had explained, “and even with that, he’s the only guy I know who goes faster with a backpack.”

You’re not surprised that John would insist on proper gear for a ride of this caliber. When you and Hyuck pull up to his townhouse, he’s standing in the garage with three different jackets laid across the hood of his new black ram truck. 

“Hey, Speedy Racer, hi, Princess,” John smiles, pulling you into a hug that lingers before assessing Hyuck as he’s taking off his helmet. “You excited for this?”

“So excited,” you respond, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hold onto this one,” John says, addressing your boyfriend, “she’s not a scardey cat like the last girl.”

“Trust me, I’m planning on holding on,” Hyuck promises, coming up behind you to wrap you in his arms. 

“So… is this the gear?” you ask, assessing the jackets on the car.

“Yeah, I bought these for my ex.” John runs a hand through his dark hair. “Figure they need a new home now.”

“Why don’t you get your own girlfriend?” Hyuck teases, squeezing you roughly.

John only sighs at your boyfriend’s antics. “Anyways, try them all on, see which one you like best.”

You shrug off your own wind breaker, picking up the first black leather jacket. It looks nice, but it’s a little large, and John explains that it’s usually meant for a hoodie underneath, which he can grab for you if you’d like. 

The second one fits a little better, but it’s still not as snug as you’d enjoy. 

When you pick up the third jacket, a white leather piece with black detailing, you can already tell from the feel of the material that it will be your favourite. As you put it on, you note the small amount of padding, the way it hugs your body. 

“That’s the one, princess,” Hyuck muses, looking you up and down.

“It looks good,” John offers you a smile. He turns, heading for a drawer, where he pulls out a pair of black riding gloves. “One last touch,” he explains, passing them to you.

When you put on the leather gloves, you finally feel like an actual motorcycle girlfriend.

“Are we good to go?” John asks.

“I just need to go piss first,” Hyuck says. “Princess, come with.”

John cocks his eye brow, but doesn’t say anything as Hyuck pulls you into the townhome, leading you down a hall to the first floor bathroom.

“What are you doing?” you laugh when he closes the door behind you, locking it securely.

“Got you something,” Hyuck tells you, reaching into his jacket.

Your heart thumps at what this present could be, and it lurches into your throat when he takes out a pink, egg vibrator.

“Hyuck, this isn’t a good idea-”

“Are you kidding?” he grins. “It’s the best idea I’ve ever had, come here”

You don’t fight him when he reaches for your hand, tugging you closer. His lips meet yours, and you eagerly kiss him back, his tongue swiping against your own. His mouth quickly moves to your throat, and his breath tickles when he whispers, “You’re going to love this.”

He gets down onto his knees, quickly pulling your pants and underwear down. The cool air of the bathroom makes your skin tingle, and your boyfriend leans forward, pressing a kiss to the patch of skin just under your belly button.

“Hyuck-” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair.

“Be good for me,” he tells you, spreading your thighs as much as the pants by your feet can allow. It’s an odd angle, but your boyfriend somehow gets his skilled tongue licking at your folds, his lips wrapping around your clit. 

One finger enters you, then two. He pushes at the spongy spot that has your toes curling in your shoes, your legs shaky. Then, to your disappointment, he pulls away.

Hyuck looks up at you, watching your reactions as he brings the internal vibrator to your pussy, gently pushing it inside.

“How’s that feel?” he asks, breath hot along your sensitive inner thighs.

“Good,” you respond, swallowing thickly.

“Perfect.” He kisses your stomach, then pulls up your jeans. “This is going to be the best ride you’ve ever been on.”

The three of you had arrived at the dealership with ten minutes before the kickstands-up start time. Hyuck had introduced you to friends you’ve not yet had the chance to meet, and he hadn’t turned the vibrator on yet.

But when everyone gets on their bikes in preparation for the hour ride ahead of you, Hyuck reaches into his pocket, at first, you think it’s just to turn on music for your Bluetooth earbuds, but that’s when the low setting of the toy kicks into gear.

Your thighs immediately squeeze around him at the stimulus, your grip on his hips tightening.

Hyuck tosses you a look over his shoulder, then flips his visor down, turning to face the road and revving his engine.

The vibrations from the Harley and the toy have your entire body tingling with delight, and you realize that while this might be the best ride of your life, it’s definitely going to be the longest, in more ways than one.

You do your best to focus on the sight in front of you rather than the vibrations. There must be over twenty Harleys on this ride, and it feels momentous in some odd way to be a part of this. 

Your group comes up to the turn light outside the dealership, after this, you’ll be on the highway. The riders are in two columns, taking up one stretch of lane. When you turn your head, you realize Johnny is pulled up beside you. He pushes his tinted visor up, flashing you a wink while you all wait.

Hyuck turns to stare at John, and as the light shifts, they both begin to rev their engines. You can’t help the giggle of delight that bubbles within you, it’s as if the two are caught up in some type of pissing match, and others soon join in.

The first two riders take off as the turn light switches on. Hyuck shifts into gear, and the motorcycle pulls forward, your knees digging against his thighs for grip as you prepare for the speed that’s about to come now that you’re on the highway.

You’ve heard John and others call Hyuck ‘Speedy Racer,’ and you know your boyfriend has a reputation for breaking limits, but in your short experience backpacking, nothing could have prepared you for how fast all the bikes are moving the moment you’re all clear of the turn.

You can see the way the men are feeding off of each other. They’re respectful of those in front of them… to a point, but everyone looks like they have something to prove, or maybe it’s just a love for the extreme.

Either way, you can only hold on as the outskirts of the city flash by you faster than they ever have before. 

The music playing through your earbud shifts, and as ‘Or Nah’ by Ty Dolla $ign comes on, you realize Hyuck’s making you listen to his sex playlist. 

Fuck- Your pussy clenches around the vibrator, your fingers digging into his hips.

You watch Hyuck’s grip tighten on his handlebars, his veins flexing under numerous dark hand tattoos that always turn you on way more than they should.

His engine revs aggressively, prompting the rider in front of him to go even faster and close the gap between the person two bikes up. 

John matches Hyuck’s speed on your left, turning to look at you both. 

It feels suddenly very dirty - and exhilarating - at the same time, to be doing this.

If only John knew what sinful music is ringing through your head, what dizzying vibrations are coursing through your pussy-

There are small district type suburbs outside of the city, and you somehow make the fifteen to thirty minute stretch to the next closest one in what must be only five minutes. You’re breathless by the time you get to the next light, one of two on the highway in this zone, and even though you think you’ll be able to catch a moment of reprieve, you’re wrong.

Hyuck reaches into his pocket, dialing up the intensity of the vibrator.

Your legs shake around him, your breaths coming out in hot pants inside your helmet.

John is looking at you again, and he motions for you to lift your visor.

Sure, any rider watching you practically hyperventilate at a red light would suggest lifting the piece of plastic keeping your face contained in your helmet- but that’s the last thing you want to do right now.

Hyuck lifts his own visor, looking over his shoulder at you then back at John. He leans a little to the left to get closer to his friend, and John’s the one to ask “Is she good?”

“She’s perfect,” Hyuck shouts over the sound of engines. His hand finds yours on his hip, rubbing you gently. “Aren’t you, princess?”

Taking a deep breath, you lift your visor, managing a small smile at your boyfriends ‘bike dad.’

“I’m okay,” you try to reassure John, but your voice is shaky.

Before John can say anything else, engines catch your attention and all three of you look forward, where the light has turned green.

“Visors down,” Hyuck warns you, knocking his own back into place before booting his kickstand back up. The bike lurches forward not two seconds later, and you’re left scrambling to adjust your helmet before latching back onto your boyfriends waist.

There’s a sissybar at your back, and you know logically that it will keep you from sliding off the end of the Harley, but you’re still not used to this type of speed. You can’t help but hold on like Hyuck is your life line, and with your mischievous speedy racer of a lover in control of the vibrator wedged between your sensitive walls, he kind of is. 

Lucky for everyone taking part in ride night, the second light in this small town is green, and your group flies through, the signs noting the speed increase back to normal highway regulations- although, you’re sure everyone here is going way over what’s posted.

You can’t see Hyuck’s speedometer with his body in front of yours, and part of you doesn’t want to see it.

You close your eyes, giving in to the onslaught of sensations. 

The air ripping at your tight riding jacket, gravel buffering your knees ever so often, music ringing through your helmet, the powerful vibrator in your pussy, and the even more powerful machine that Hyuck maneuvers like a God-

If you focus too hard, if you allow yourself to enjoy all of this, you might just cum, and part of you wants to resist that, so you open your eyes, looking over at John on the bike next to you.

Hyuck might be the notorious dare devil, but John’s not all that angelic either. The man is standing straight up on his foot pegs, his butt raised completely off his seat. The wind is tearing at his leather jacket, and you can’t even imagine the pressure of the air he’s cutting through, battering at his body-

Even so, he looks as free as you’ve ever seen a man look.

Your pussy pulses pathetically around the toy and you grip Hyuck’s hips, legs shaking around his own.

His hand lands on your thigh, squeezing, as if to say ‘cum for me,’ and your body can’t help itself this time. You release all the pressure, your muscles going slack for a moment of peace before contracting from the power of your orgasm.

Your core throbs desperately around the vibrator, your eyes closing to enjoy the sensation.

Hyuck takes his hand away from your thigh, revving the engine and kicking into an even higher gear. The bike purs below you, as if she - like her master - is amped up from the energy of your release.

John sits back down on his bike to match Hyuck’s acceleration, and you can feel his eyes on you. Another pang of pleasure erupts through your form, your visor fogging up from how hard you’re panting.

Hyuck makes a motion at John, and with your vision obscured, it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s saying. However, when he forms his hand into a fist and shakes it aggressively to emulate a vibrator, you can almost picture the look of recognition behind John’s tinted visor.

You can’t bring yourself to think about it too hard right now, your orgasm still throbbing through you like white hot summer rays.

It’s hard to gauge time on the back of a bike. With the world going past you at what feels like a hundred miles a minute, it could be an orgasm that lasts five minutes, or five seconds, you’re not sure.

All you can do is hold on, allowing the pleasure to overtake you until it subsides, your muscles slowing the contractions around the vibrator. 

You don’t know it yet, but this will be your first of six orgasms on the back of Hyuck’s bike during the hour and a half ride to the bar.

Hyuck had turned off the vibrator at the first red light you’d reached after entering the town that will be your final destination. You’d slumped like a limp rag doll behind him, trying to catch your breath the rest of the way.

When the group of Harleys pulls into the bar parkinglot, you’re honestly not sure you’ll even be able to stand, and your legs are wobbly as you nearly stumble off the back of Hyuck’s bike.

You fumble with the straps of your helmet, tearing it off and taking a big gasp of air.

Hyuck’s much more graceful with his movements, bending down to pick up the earbud that’s fallen to the ground with the force of the removal of your helmet. “You good, princess?”

You narrow your eyes at him, knowing your cheeks are flushed and you probably look like a mess.

“I’ll make it better,” Hyuck promises, standing and pulling you into a breathtaking kiss. You can’t help the way you react to him, leaning against his chest and completely melting. It feels so good to be touched, finally, after over and hour of what feels like torture. You can almost forget about the gang of bikers whistling and howling at the sight. 

Hyuck pulls away too quickly, putting his helmet on his bike before grabbing yours to do the same. Then, he latches onto your hand. “Come on,” he says gruffly.

You want to ask if you should wait for the rest of the riders to park properly, but when Hyuck begins to tug you toward the bar, your words get caught in your throat.

The dive bar hostess’s eyes widen when you and Hyuck approach. “Hey, I’m with the group that just pulled up, my girlfriend’s been needing to piss since the last town, can we just use your bathroom real quick?”

The girl stammers, but Hyuck’s already pushing through with a gruff, “Thanks.”

It’s clear Hyuck’s been here before, because he knows exactly where he’s going. As he pushes you into the men’s bathroom, doing a quick look around to make sure it’s empty, your heart begins to thunder in your chest.

“Hyuck-”

“Come on, princess,” he shakes his head at you, tugging you into a stall, “I didn’t toy with you for over an hour just to leave you high and dry. You want to be filled, properly, don’t you?”

His breath is hot against your skin as he corners you into the small stall, pinning you against the black plastic wall. 

You don’t have it in you to wait for him to fuck you till you get home, but you don’t have it in you to speak much either, all you can do is whimper and nod, clutching at his hoodie to pull him into a kiss.

He groans against you, and the sound goes straight to your core. Hyuck’s lips quickly move to your throat, teasing by your sweet spot while you moan and thread your fingers through his soft hair.

When his teeth graze past the collar of your jacket, you push your hips forward, silently begging for more friction. He rewards you by pushing his thigh between your own, allowing you to grind down on him while his nimble fingers tug down the zipper.

For a moment, a scene flashes through your mind's eye. You envision John in a very similar position to where you are now, some faceless lover, adorned in the jacket that’s now keeping you from Hyuck-

 Your boyfriend buries his face in your exposed tits now, holding the leather open so he can access the cleavage pushed up by your bra.

“Hyuck, please-” you whimper, acutely aware that you’re in a public restroom.

“So needy,” he chuffs, nipping at your collarbone.

His hand slips to your pants, undoing them before roughly tugging the fabric down.

“Can you push the vibe out for me baby?” he prompts, thumb circling your clit.

The mere graze of his digit against your throbbing bud has your core clenching, following through with his command. Hyuck catches the vibrator as it falls, grinning at you. “Now say ah.”

“What?”

“It’s to keep you quiet, plus, I need this shit clean so I can put it back in my pocket.”

He’s such a fuck, but you dutifully open your mouth for him, accepting the toy.

The taste of your own pussy on your tongue has you mewling for Hyuck, reaching down to fumble with his belt.

You can feel his cock pressing against his jeans, and you’re practically drooling around the makeshift gag ball by the time you get him free of the denim.

Hyuck grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for a haphazardly sinful kiss. He licks at the toy, groaning from your slick that coats the plastic vibrator. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he growls, staring you in the eyes for a moment full of tension.

Then he flips you around, pushing at your back so your chest is pressed to the wall of the stall.

“Spread your legs for me, princess,” he instructs.

You do as you’re told, and he rubs the tip of his cock along your pussy lips a moment later. You moan around the vibrator, closing your eyes. 

God, you need to be filled so fucking bad-

“Always so wet for me,” Hyuck murmurs by your ear, his mouth teasing past your throat. “You came what? Five times on my bike? Six? You’re gonna give me one more.”

He pushes his cock into your wet hole, bottoming out immediately while your toes curl in your shoes, your nails clawing against the plastic wall of the stall.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips. 

“So fucking big,” you retort, and it’s true. Hyuck is around 5’9, maybe 5’10 or 5’11 on a good day in his work boots- but where he’s lacking - arguably - in height, he makes up for in cock. He’s probably around seven, seven and a half inches. And he’s girthy too, stretching out your tight pussy in a way a vibrator only wishes it could.

This is what you’ve been needing for over an hour.

All the toys in the world, but nothing, nothing, is like Hyuck’s cock. He sure as hell knows how to use it.  

Hyuck begins to rut into you, lips hot against your throat. The layers of leather covering your form are making you sweat, but then again, you’ve been sweating since that first orgasm. You can’t even bring yourself to care about the uncomfortable nature of this, because you’ve been desperate for Hyuck, and nothing is going to tear you away from this experience.

Nothing-

Except the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Hyuck freezes momentarily, then he slaps his hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds that have been escaping past the vibrator.

He picks up where he left off, railing into you even harder while your eyes roll back into your head.

Fuck, at this point, you feel like you’re possessed, spiritually, and physically.

No other man in your life has ever tempted you to be in a situation like this one, but Hyuck’s nothing if not a guy who broadens your horizons.

“You two are such animals.”

John’s voice makes your skin tingle, your eyes opening. You turn your head, meeting Hyuck’s gaze behind you. He only laughs. “Easy for you to say old man,” he calls.

“A vibrator in your girl’s pussy during ride night,” you can practically hear John shaking his head, “funny, I never thought of that.”

“Do you have something to say to me, or did you come just to chat and listen to my girl get railed?” Hyuck asks, irritation and amusement laced in his words.

“I got to watch her cum on your bike a couple of times, she wasn’t exactly subtle about it, I figure, might as well have some audio to burn into my memory too.”

Fucking hell.

Your pussy clenches desperately around Hyuck, and he laughs, kissing your throat.

“Oddly enough, John, I think my princess is into that. Open your mouth baby, let’s give John the vibrator to hold onto for now.”

You do as you’re told, spitting the toy into Hyuck’s hand and staring at him with a question in your eyes.

“You stay right here,” Hyuck instructs, pressing his hand to the back of your head to force your face against the wall. His motions have stopped, and he reaches behind himself to open the door. From the angle of where you are against the stall, John can’t see you, all he can do is reach in and accept the vibrator from your boyfriend. “Clean that off for me, will ya?”

You hear Johnny chuckle to himself, and then Hyuck’s locking the door again.

“Okay, baby, no need to hold back now. Put on a show for John, I know you want to.”

The first whimper that escapes you makes you claw at the wall, pressing your forehead against the cold plastic. Your eyes close, your teeth gnawing at your lip.

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, stifling a moan. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be, princess? It’s only John.”

“Fuck-” you whine as Hyuck reaches around your front, his fingers toying with your clit. 

“You always told me you had a thing for older men. Said I wasn’t your usual type- not daddy enough for you, well, here you go, baby. Let daddy hear you moan for my cock.” 

You seriously can’t believe this is happening. All you can do is try to relax while Hyuck fucks you stupid in some dive bar bathroom stall, your core still throbbing and desperate after six orgasms from a vibrator while on his bike. The fingers on your oversensitive bud are unrelenting, just like your boyfriend, and at this point, you can’t even bring yourself to care that his ride night dad is listening in, only a few feet away. 

“You sound so pretty, princess, show John how pretty you sound, stop holding back.”

Hyuck begins to suck on your sweet spot, and you gasp loudly, eyes closing. Each thrust of his hips has his cock hitting a place deep inside of you, making your toes curl. Then he pinches your clit, and you suck in a strangled breath.

“Want you to cum for me, baby, show us that you’re a good girl.”

“Hyuck-”

“Now’s not the time to talk.” His free hand wraps around your throat, and you shiver with anticipation. “Good girls listen to their boyfriends, don’t they princess?”

When he squeezes your neck, your core throbs, and a few more circles of your aching clit has you seeing stars. You let out a strangled gasp, grabbing at Hyuck’s tattooed wrist, keeping his hand around your throat while your pussy clenches tight on his cock, your orgasm washing over you like a waterfall.

“That’s it, princess,” Hyuck coos. “And you’re going to take every drop of my cum too, right? I know how much you love being full.”

“Please-” you whimper.

“Fuck.” You hear John groan just outside the stall, and another wave of pleasure erupts through you, goosebumps fleckling along your flesh. You’re delirious at this point, overcome by the high that’s tearing through every fiber of your being.

“Okay, princess, I’m there- take it, take it-” Hyuck squeezes your throat even tighter, and you gasp when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, filling you up with warmth while his hips stutter with effort.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, beginning to struggle in his grasp.

He releases your neck, tilting your head so he can lean over your shoulder and press his hot lips against your own, tongue invading your mouth while he finishes.

You’re both gasping by the time he stills inside of you. He rests his forehead against your own, breathing deeply and looking at you under heavy lids.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers, pressing a shockingly chaste kiss to your lips.

Hyuck pulls away, helping you sit down onto the toilet so his cum doesn’t get on your clothes. He quickly wipes his cock. “We’ll give you some privacy,” he winks, exiting the stall. “Come on, John.”

Both men leave, and you’re free to pee in peace, trying to catch your breath.

When you’re finished up in the bathroom, you find Hyuck waiting right outside. His arm slings around your shoulder and he leads you onto the covered patio where everyone is already seated and enjoying drinks.

John waves the two of you over to a table, and you find it difficult to meet his gaze when you sit down.

It’s clear from the way John and Hyuck dive into a conversation with one of their friends that neither of them intend to discuss what just happened, and that’s fine by you. There’s always another time, and there’s always another ride night. 

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! He's never going to see this, but I just wanted to gush for a moment about how much I appreciate my significant other. For years, being a fanfic writer has been a touchy subject with prospective partners, but my boyfriend right now is so stupidly supportive of what I do here on Tumblr. I'm so blessed at all the ideas he's given me since we started dating, and this fic is just one of the many ways I've been able to creatively interpret aspects of our relationship into fiction so we can all enjoy even a slice of the joy that he gives me every day.

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “You’ve been good, cum for your boyfriend, bet he’ll love it when you make a mess on his tongue.” John is so suave- he knows exactly what to say, exactly how to be respectful but still an active verbal participant while Hyuck takes you to the edge. The combination of dirty talk and Hyuck’s motions on your pussy have you clamping down with a whine, your muscles clenching hard around Hyuck’s fingers while you cum.

cw/ tw. Vibrating anal plug while on a Harley, exhibitionism, voyeurism, threesome, unprotected sex, protected sex, double penetration (cock & fingers), anal, dirty talk, praise, spitting, pussy eating, multiple reader orgasms, dom/sub dynamic, hand job,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) Princess, baby. (Hyuck’s)  master. (John’s) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 240

🌙 starring. Hyuck & Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

Riding with a toy inside your pussy is one thing, but riding with a butt plug is an entirely other arena of sensation. It’s been two months since your first ride night, and in those months, you and Hyuck have discussed allowing Johnny to join you for some fun. Hyuck had only agreed if he would have complete control, and part of that control, is stretching you out like this.

The worst part is they’re not even going to fuck you at the bar. No, you’re going to be wearing this plug for hours, and only after everything is finished, will you be heading to John’s for the final pleasure of the night.

Hyuck had also chosen to give you a vibrating plug, and for the ride there, he’d kept control of it, but at the bar, that had all changed. Sat between Johnny and Hyuck the two had passed the remote back and forth discreetly, and whenever the plug would jump inside of you, your head would be whipping to figure out who had decided to tease you.

You’re accepting a glass of beer from the waitress when the plug begins to vibrate, and you nearly spill your drink all over yourself. First, your eyes shift to Hyuck, only to find his hands on the table, which means the culprit is John.

He flashes you a wink, and you think you might just die here and now.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.9k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @runahways - @milkteade - @mocha000

@anothershorthuman - @notbeforelong - @darthlunaa

@chogiwapadada - @meowniee - @pandabur666

@just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono - @lovelyhan -

@grilledbananas - @quennlenn - @zezedoesshit

@unlikelysublimekryptonite - @wonwoothinker

nct taglist

@peachyjaemin - @sehunniepot - @shailasthings

thanks to those who interacted with the teaser

@shmooooo - @lovee-dovee - @bbeanetta - @amazinggraxia

@twililty - @fullsunstrawberry - @nae-vm - @boxindaria

@babieculture - @multislut - @p4p1l0nn - @froggyforyoongi

@axo-l0tl - @btsreadss - @ridenotpark - @positionslab

@cuminho - @rolexjung - @firydst - @doyotint - @do0jaem

@littlecatjn - @rakshithanotrao - @sunflowerhc - @ollieollieoctopus

@putlonghatdog - @markgeollie - @icedearlgreytea

[speaknow-sw]

𝑺𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒌

Summary : When your car broke down in the middle of 1950s Texas, you welcome with pleasure the help of a handsome cowboy.

Word count : 2.4k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, 1950s AU, Cowboy! Anakin, Ditzy!, Wealthy! Reader, surnames (doll, peach, dollie,), kissing, vaginal fingering, brief pussy-eating, PiV, breeding kink, wife kink, mentions of grooming, pregnancy kink ?

AN : Okay so I got that AU in my head since FOREVER. That damn picture of Hayden with the Stetson got me ruining so many panties. Here’s a tribute to all the Cowboy delulu wifeys. Hope you’ll enjoy !!!

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the vast Texas plains. The air was thick with the scent of wild grass and the distant hum of cicadas. You, a city girl from New York, had never seen anything like it. The endless stretch of land, so different from the concrete jungle you were used to, was both beautiful and intimidating.

You had been on your way to visit a distant relative’s ranch, a place you’d never been before, when your car—an elegant, shiny Cadillac that was far too fancy for these dusty roads—had sputtered and died in the middle of nowhere. Now, here you were, miles from the nearest town, with no idea what to do.

Your pretty summer dress, all ruffles and soft pastels, was completely out of place here, with the silk scarf wrapped around your head to protect your hair from the burning sun. Your designer heels were sinking into the dirt with every step you took around the car, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. You were lost, both literally and figuratively, your usual confidence shaken by the vastness of this wild, untamed place.

As you leaned against the car, biting your lip in frustration, the sound of hooves reached your ears. You looked up, shielding your eyes from the sun, and saw a figure on horseback approaching from the distance.

As the rider drew closer, you could make out more details—tall, broad-shouldered, with a wide-brimmed Stetson casting a shadow over his face. His horse was a magnificent creature, all muscle and grace, moving with the kind of power that took your breath away.

When he finally stopped a few feet away from you, you got your first real look at him. The man was strikingly handsome, with sandy blonde hair that curled under his hat and deep blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was dressed in a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, tanned forearms, and worn jeans that clung to his legs in a way that made your heart race.

“Well, now, what’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ all the way out here ?” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, with just the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You blinked up at him, momentarily lost for words. He was so different from the men you were used to—polished, city types in sharp suits and shiny shoes. This man was raw and rugged, with a presence that seemed to command the very air around him.

“My car…” you started, feeling a little foolish under his steady gaze. “It just… stopped. I don’t know what to do.”

He dismounted with an easy grace, the muscles in his arms flexing as he swung down from the saddle. As he approached, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, mixing with the warmth of the sun. He looked over the car, his expression thoughtful, before turning back to you.

“Well, I ain’t no mechanic, but I can take a look, dollie,” he offered, his tone kind but with an undercurrent of amusement, as if he found your predicament both endearing and a little amusing.

“Thank you,” you murmured, stepping aside to let him take a look under the hood. As he worked, you couldn’t help but watch him, the way his fingers deftly moved over the engine, the way his shirt clung to the muscles of his back as he leaned over.

After a few minutes, he straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag he’d pulled from his back pocket. “Looks like you’ve got a busted radiator, peach. You won’t be goin’ anywhere until it’s fixed.”

Your heart sank at his words. “Oh no, what am I going to do ?”

He glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to turn shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped lower. “It’s gettin’ late. Best thing would be to come back to my place. It ain’t too far, and you can stay the night. I’ll take a look at your car in the morning, doll, see what can be done.”

You hesitated for a moment, the idea of staying with a stranger making you nervous, but there was something about him—something solid and trustworthy—that made you nod in agreement. “Alright, thank you, cowboy. I really appreciate it.”

He gave you a nod and helped you up onto his horse, his hands firm and steady as they gripped your waist. You settled into the saddle, feeling a bit awkward, but his presence behind you was reassuring.

As you rode through the fields, the wind gently tugging at your hair, you couldn’t help but lean back against him, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His arm was wrapped around you, holding the reins, and you could feel the strength in him, the quiet confidence that seemed to radiate from every part of him. 

Suddenly your silk scarf escaped from your head and you gasped. A strong hand latched backwards and caught the fabric. The cowboy winked at you and pocketed your scarf not without smelling it beforehand, leaving you speechless.

When you finally arrived at his ranch, the sky was a deep indigo, the stars just beginning to twinkle above. The house was a charming, rustic place, with a wide porch and warm, inviting lights glowing from the windows.

He helped you down from the horse, his hands lingering on your waist for just a moment longer than necessary, sending a thrill through you. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cozy warmth of the living room, the scent of wood and leather filling the air.

“You can make yourself at home,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “I’ll get you somethin’ to drink.”

You nodded, wandering over to the fireplace, your fingers lightly brushing over the mantel as you took in the room. When he returned, he handed you a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the firelight.

As you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol spread through you, mixing with the heat that had been steadily building inside you since the moment he’d appeared on that dusty road. You coughed your lungs out at the burn.

“I never did catch your name,” you said, looking up at him over the rim of your glass.

“Name’s Anakin,” he replied, his eyes locked onto yours. “Anakin Skywalker.”

You smiled, the name fitting him perfectly. “Thank you again, Anakin. For helping me.”

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s my pleasure, darlin’. Can’t leave a lady in distress.”

There was a charged silence between you, the air thick with something unspoken. You could feel the tension building, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before you knew it, he was right in front of you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. His touch was warm, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your breath catch.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

You could only nod, your voice failing you as you lost yourself in the intensity of his gaze.

And then he was kissing you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before—raw, passionate, and filled with a desire that made your head spin.

You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as the kiss deepened.

His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the hard lines of his body against yours, the heat of his skin seeping through his shirt, igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t even realized was there.

You gasped as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your knees weak, his stubble scratching deliciously against your throat. His hands were everywhere, sliding down your back, over your hips, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that matched your own.

“Anakin…” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning you there with a strength that made your pulse race.

“Shh,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl. “I’ve gotcha’, darlin’. Jus’ let me take care of ya’.”

And take care of you he did. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, where he laid you down on the soft, inviting bed. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting everything in a warm, golden light.

He stood above you for a moment, his eyes dark and intense as he took in the sight of you, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. And then he was on you, his hands and lips exploring every inch of your body, igniting a fire in you that burned hotter with every touch, every kiss.

Anakin's kisses trailed down your neck, his hands sliding over your dress, finding the zipper at the back. With a smooth motion, he pulled it down, the fabric slipping off your shoulders, exposing the delicate lace of your lingerie. His breath hitched at the sight, his eyes darkening with desire.

"Pretty, lil’ angel," he whispered, his voice husky as his fingers traced the outline of your bra, making your skin tingle. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing hot kisses along your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, until you were arching into him, desperate for more.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons in your eagerness to feel his skin against yours. He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, before he helped you, shrugging out of the shirt and tossing it aside.

The sight of him, all hard muscles and golden skin, took your breath away. His chest was broad, his abs defined, and you couldn’t resist running your hands over his torso, feeling the heat and power of him beneath your fingertips.

He groaned at your touch, his hands slipping under your bra, pushing it up to free your breasts. His mouth was on you in an instant, his tongue teasing your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you that had you gasping his name.

His hands were everywhere, sliding down your sides, over your hips, pushing your dress the rest of the way off until you were lying there in nothing but your panties. He paused for a moment, just looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body with a hunger that made your skin flush with heat.

Then he was kissing you again, his mouth claiming yours in a kiss that was all-consuming, his hands sliding down to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you, the evidence of his desire making you ache with need.

"Anakin," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation as he kissed his way down your body, his hands hooking into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with a slow, deliberate motion that left you trembling with anticipation.

He kissed the inside of your thighs, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, making you shiver. And then his mouth was on you, his tongue stroking over your most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you that made you cry out, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working together to drive you higher and higher, until you were teetering on the edge, your body strung tight with need. And then he was inside you, filling you completely, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you moaning his name, your nails digging into his back. « Gonna make you a mommy, » he grunted, biting your throat. His hands gripped your waist tightly probably letting bruises. He swallowed the sweet skin of your cleavage in his mouth, suckling hickeys and pressing hot, tongue kisses on your chair. « My sweet little wife, gonna drag you on the aisle, » he pounded harder in you, his large cock reducing you at a doll-like state, your cock drunk face driving his crazy. « You’ll gimme babies, huh ? As much babies as I want. Gonna keep you round and full of me. Mine. My wife, the mother of my children. » his thrusts got sloppy and his face contorted in a mask of need.

The pleasure built and built, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, sending you spiraling into an orgasm so intense it left you shaking, your body clinging to his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. You screamed your release, arching your back and curling your toes.

Anakin followed you over the edge, his own release spilling deep into you as he groaned your name, his body tensing above you before he collapsed, pulling you into his arms as you both lay there, breathing hard, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath. 

The night was a blur of passion and desire, a heady mix of pleasure and sensation that left you breathless and yearning for more. Anakin moved with a confidence that only came from someone who knew exactly what he wanted, and he made sure you knew it too. He took his time with you, savoring every moment, every gasp and moan that fell from your lips. He pushed you to the edge again and again, his touch driving you wild, until you finally tumbled over, your body arching into his as you were consumed by the pleasure that only he could give you. You couldn’t count how much time he made you cum and came himself but you sure knew your belly wasn’t this bloated when you started.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the sheets as you settled into the warmth of each other’s embrace. Then he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he murmured, "I knew you were somethin’ special, doll."

You smiled, a lazy, satisfied smile as you snuggled closer to him, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "I guess I’ll have to find more reasons to get stranded in Texas," you teased, your voice soft and content, the Stetson since forgotten on the floor.

The End…

[bunny-jpeg]

the cost of what is to come, max v.- you felt anxious, beyond anxious. the type of anxiety that seemed to tighten your throat and made every nerve feel hyper active. especially knelt there on the bed, waiting.

"you've been quite the bad girl." max's voice was honey in your head. you watched him reach for you, his hand on your jaw ever so delicately, "but that's good for you. because i quite enjoy breaking stubborn girls." and you watched him lick his top lip, something shuddered inside of you.

there were boys, and there were men. and then there was max verstappen.

the kisses trailed from your shoulder to your jaw to your mouth. his lips captured yourself and you reached out to touch him. but before you should hold onto his shoulders. he snatched you by the wrists and broke the kiss.

"tsk, tsk, tsk." he said lowly, "i own you, you don't own me." his blue eyes gleamed with something that made your stomach twist. he gave a smile at you, "i get to touch what it mine. you signed over that a long time ago."

a series of bets and a mounting metaphorical debt. max pushed you to be the best mechanic and you pushed him to make your services worth it. and as he racked up points and trophies, he only became more and more a part of your life. redbull's plucky little mechanic, turned a stress toy for the four time world champion. you whined and he shut you up with another kiss.

already nude, he laid you out on the bed. his t-shirt off over his head. his gaze hungry on you. he never considered himself a gambling man except when it came to risky moves on the track. but you were the best gamble he ever made. he could only let out a small groan as you undid his expensive belt. as he got his jeans off, he captured your lips once more. he pinned you down onto the plush bed further. he pressed his weight against you and rubbed his barely clothed cock up against you. the kisses were feverish, he wanted you. he wanted you badly.

you had been on his mind for hours now, the post-race press conference went by so slowly when he knew you were tending to his car. your baby as you called it. well maybe it was time to give you an actual baby. his baby. he peeled off his briefs. you got a good look at his cock and you swallowed at the sight of him. so powerful on top of you, his expression was near unreadable. but you felt a slight bit of fear in your soul. max could be scary. a lion had two sides after all. the relaxed creature and the hunter, both with their own aura of dominating power. he took you by the hips and brushed his cock up against you. you swallowed and arched your back a little.

"be loud." he said, "no one can hear you. i don't think anyone would care to hear you. but not me, i love hearing those noises you make." he said as he sank his cock into you. you let out a squeak-like moan and it just shook max to his core.

he loved the sight of your soft breasts slightly bounce with each of his his thrusts. he eyed your form up and down, admired every inch of skin. he wanted to mark you up. he wanted to cover every inch of skin in his affection, his devotion.

he wanted to scare off every son of a bitch on the grid, from team principals to engineers to the drivers. max might have to get a little creative over the holidays to figure out how to keep you from slipping between his fingers. he felt the hunger in his jaw, down to the bone. in his teeth, he wanted to leave heavy hickies on your skin. he wanted to make your neck a masterpiece of his design. he held onto you hips tighter, lifted your hips a little to get a better angle. he let out a heavy groan at the sensation of you. you felt like a dream, he fucked you the way he drove cars. with a certain level of skill that had you quivering. needy for more.

that was how he was able to interweave himself into your life so tightly. become a fabric of your reality and leave you panting for more. he exhaled deeply, his cheeks grew slightly pink from the feeling of it all, "you feel amazing. you always feel amazing. you have no idea what you do to me. you've changed me, and i think it's only fair that i get to change you." cryptic were his words, but they left you moaning, pathetic little pants as he fucked you roughly.

you made him a champion, now he was going to make you a bride.

trade the coveralls for a white dress, and the grime under your nails for a shiny diamond ring. he was sickeningly obsessed with you, he wanted to be entrenched in your world that he could never leave or fear that everything would collapse. he worked his hips against yours and took in the sight of your beauty as he fucked you with heavy strokes.

"please, max." you said pathetically as he continued to fuck you. his movements quick and hit in all the right places. you held onto the hotel sheets under you and let him have his wicked way with you. you couldn't help yourself. you knew were so past the line of professionalism and there was no turning back. even if you wanted to, you knew deep down there was zero chance in hell that max would ever let you slip away. not when your entire being pulled him in. he wanted you often, he wanted you in ways that would scare most. it was a deep throb in you that left you yearning for him. it was why you worked on his cars so well and why you let him strip you down and take you apart after every race.

why his words seem to float in your head as he worked your achy cunt to a full hot bliss. he groaned and you whimpered. he leaned forward and you grasped his shoulders, this time he let you touch him. your lips collided and max continued to fuck you. he continued to stretch your cunt perfectly for him. you gave him everything and he in turn would give you everything. the luxury, the wealth, the baby and the last name.

"you sound beautiful when you say my name. it sounds right on your mouth." he licked his lips as he continued to bully his cock inside of you. he felt your cunt clench around him as he worked against you. he made a nice mess of your pretty pussy. not that anyone else was going to be touching it, not while he was still upright and breathing. he went in for another searing kiss. his pace started to stagger.

his thrusts became erratic and his mind only focused on one thing. filling you until there was no room left. you were perfect, the mechanic who could save redbull. too bad you wouldn't have a lengthy career. max doesn't want you out of his grasp, at most an arm's length. you didn't need to worry about money or anything, max had enough for you, him and your growing family. and that lingering through made him fuck you faster and harder.

the bed hit against the wall as he hit against the right spots, as he watched you shudder and arch your back. his pants were heavy as he eyed the sharp rise and fall of your chest. it was a heated affair, one that max would add to the long list of other times he fucked you into a total submission.

"you drive me crazy."

"please, max." you tried not to be too loud. he captured your lips once more and you clenched around him. your nails dug into his shoulders as he worked you slick cunt. the thrum of pleasure in your core went to your brain. and soon enough you finished. you moaned into his mouth as he just shuddered against you.

his movements only got faster and he tensed up around you. he pressed into you further and with a few more heavy, heated thrusts he finished inside of you. he looked you in the eyes as he finished, his expression shifted as he came. his eyes closed for a moment as he rode out his climax.

"fuck... there we go." he groaned as he relaxed a little bit. he looked at you once more and kissed you deeply. worth it, it was all worth it. he held you face for a moment.

you looked at him with a blissed out expression. and like a good girl (that max knew you were) you nodded, "yes, max."

afterwards he held you, his grip on you was a little tighter. he kissed you neck softly and watched you breathe heavily. he wasn't done with you yet, not quite. he whispered in your ear as he held you from behind.

"it's the end of the season, my dear. why don't you come home with me? i'll show you all that monaco has to offer, and maybe we'll make another deal. if i don't get you pregnant by the new year, you can stay with the team. but if you do, you become my wife." <3

[v-o-i-d-e-d]

Spock x reader

Could you please do. 5 times Spock caught the reader from falling +1 time he didn't. Reader gets really hurt but no death. Just hurt/comfort please✨

Of course I will do this for you! I hope you don't mind I shortened it a little for the sake of my word count. (It's already too long) But the premise is the same!

Warnings: reader is very clumsy, blood, brief description of a burn, language and I think that's it!

Word Count: 3,351 (buckle up)

Let me know if you guys want a part 2 to this one, I feel like it has tha kind of potential 👀

Allow the Ground to Find its Brutal Way to Me - Spock x Reader

1.

               The first time Ensign (Y/N) met Spock was an accident. She was supposed to be in the engine room – as per her engineering status – but instead, she was hiding away in the lounge. Most of her daily work was finished anyway, she could stand to take a break and catch up on her reading. However, just as she had reached a particularly exciting part of her book, her communicator crackled to life and Scotty’s voice filled the once peaceful silence.

               “(L/N), I need you to return to the engine room. I need your help repairing a minor issue with the hyperdrive.”

               The thought of ignoring the call crossed her mind but then so did the thought of losing her job,

               “On my way.”

               With a defeated sigh, (Y/N) marked her page and left the lounge. As the door hissed open, she stepped out without looking and bumped harshly into someone. (Y/N) and the stranger tottered for a moment before they both stabilized.

               “Sorry-“

               “Apologies-“

               Commander Spock was admittedly distracted by his datapad when he heard the lounge door open. He had looked up a bit too late and walked straight into the woman walking out of the room. After their quick apologies, the young ensign left without introduction. Spock had never seen her before and upon noting her red dress surmised that she worked primarily in the engine room. He let out a short hum as he continued on his path toward the bridge, this time making sure to keep his eyes on the hallway.

2.

               Over the next few months, (Y/N) and Spock saw a lot more of each other. Whether it was a coincidence or fate (Y/N) did not care she was just glad it happened. The two have many things in common such as a love for reading, art, and history. (Y/N) had become quite fond of her commanding officer and upon that realization, the thought of losing her job crossed her mind once again. The door to the Bridge hissed open and she walked as gracefully as she could beside Scotty as they entered for their weekly report. Supposedly, this ritual was so that Captain Kirk could be kept in the loop about any problems we may be having down in the engine room but (Y/N) was starting to think that it was simply a way for Kirk and Scotty to chat. For about five minutes the two men had a serious conversation, and then it transitioned into a more friendly and less important one that (Y/N) tuned out of. 

Spock noticed her as soon as she stepped onto the Bridge. Her hair was pulled away from her face today - she must have been doing mechanical work. He recalled her mentioning that she doesn’t like pulling her hair up because it gives her a headache. 

“...so I only pull it up when I have to. Don’t want it to get in the way while I’m neck deep in a turbine of something.”

The Vulcan huffed a breath through his nose that almost resembled a chuckle at the memory. Spock looked back toward (Y/N) at the sound of her laughter. Her lips curled in a lopsided grin and her cheeks flushed a pretty pink color as she waved off whatever it was Kirk had said to make her laugh. Spock’s brown eyes stared intently at (Y/N)’s face. She was a very beautiful woman - it would be illogical for him to deny that - but it was not practical to dwell on those thoughts so he begrudgingly looked back down at his work. 

(Y/N) had sneaked what she thought were subtle glances toward the Vulcan. How could she not? But apparently, the glances were not subtle enough to go undetected by Captain Kirk who had connected her gaze with his second in command. 

“Spock? Really? Come on, of all the men on board,” Kirk scoffed. 

(Y/N) looked down at her shoes feeling a bit caught and murmured, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Scotty and Kirk exchanged knowing glances and Kirk reached out and tapped (Y/N) on the shoulder, “Hey, do you think Vulcans get jealous? I think we should test it out and call it a science experiment.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up at the notion. She waved off the suggestion and shook her head in disbelief. “You are unbelievable. Can I be dismissed? I do have a job to complete.” 

Kirk nodded and sent her away with a smile. She was relieved to be out of that situation and made her way back toward the elevator which just so happened to lead her right past a certain Vulcan. He looked up as she walked past and she waved and smiled. He nodded back. Unfortunately for (Y/N)’s confidence, she happened to walk a bit too close to the control table Spock was standing behind and managed to knock her hip into it hard enough for her to stumble. Spock quickly reached out and grabbed her bicep so she wouldn’t fall and (Y/N) gave him a sheepish grin. 

“Whoops,” she chuckled as she straightened herself up. “My clumsiness strikes again.” She chuckled to herself as she left the room. 

3.

(Y/N)’s palms were sweaty as she quickly swiped them against her uniform. Her eyes flicked between the aliens in front of her and Kirk. She had been part of a group that was meant to explore a newly found planet, however, the locals were not as accepting as the captain had anticipated. Normally, (Y/N) would not be involved in such missions but much to her annoyance the people on this planet spoke a dialect close enough to a language she knew to make her a valuable translator. The mood was quite tense as she stood in between the two groups. The aliens had just told Kirk that if they did not leave the planet soon, they would be punished.

“Punished how?” Kirk asked her. She cringed.

“I’d rather not repeat that one. Just know the description was very graphic and I think we should follow their direction.”

Kirk rolled his shoulders back and narrowed his eyes. “How about a bargain?” 

(Y/N) hesitated before relaying the question to the lead alien. The alien paused before allowing Kirk to elaborate. 

“You keep a member of our crew until we’re done with analysis and then we will come back for them when we leave. No more than 24 hours.”

Spock, who had remained silent by Kirk’s side grabbed the captain’s shoulder, “This is not a good idea. We don’t know how they treat prisoners here. You could be putting one of the crew members in danger.” 

“Relax. We’ll send one of the officers with them. They have training to withstand or escape if necessary. I know what I’m doing, Spock.

(Y/N) had relayed the proposition and the aliens turned to each other to deliberate. (Y/N) shifted on her feet and looked over at Spock with a wary expression. She said nothing but Spock understood: Whatever the aliens were saying wasn’t good. After a few moments, the aliens gave their response. As they spoke, (Y/N)’s eyes widened. When the aliens finished, she turned to Kirk and cleared her throat. 

“They say that they accept your bargain as long as they get to choose who stays.”

“Fine. Who do they want?”

“Me.”

A long pause. Kirk could feel Spock’s glare burning into the back of his head and chose not to cast a glance in his direction. “No.”

“It does make the most sense. I’m the only one who can speak to them and it’s only for a day. Who knows, maybe they’ll tell me stuff about their people.” (Y/N) could not believe she was advocating for herself to be a prisoner of some strange race but she just didn’t want shooting to start. 

Kirk finally cast a sidelong glance to his second in command who was already looking at him with an unreadable expression. Spock simply nodded. He couldn’t deny the logic. While she was there she could act as an ambassador on behalf of Star Fleet. 

“Fine” Kirk nodded and immediately (Y/N) was taken by the arms in a firm grip. She yelped in surprise and forced her legs to cooperate as she was led away from her group. 

“I guess the 24 hours starts now!” She said over her shoulder as she was led back toward the little village the aliens came from. 

Data gathering and analysis had never gone quicker. Everyone on the ground crew worked overtime through the night to gather as much as they could in the short time they were given. To say Spock was nervous would be a bit of an understatement. Anytime his hands were not occupied by work he would be picking his cuticles raw at the thought of (Y/N) stuck in that village. He was not optimistic, but Kirk reminded him that the aliens may not be hostile toward her. Spock often forgot that possibility. The group stood at the edge of the village just as the 24 hours were up. Much to Spock’s relief, (Y/N) was being led over to them unharmed. She was held firmly by the arm just as she had been yesterday but she seemed much less nervous today. 

“You okay?” Kirk asked when she was standing across from him 

“Yeah, I’m fine. They want to know if you have what you came for.”

Kirk nodded and, as if on cue, the alien holding (Y/N) pushed her forward. It wasn’t a particularly hard push, however, (Y/N) was not expecting the sudden forward momentum and tripped over her own feet. Spock, who stood once again at Kirk’s side, stepped forward and allowed (Y/N) to fall into him so she wouldn't hit the ground. The Ensign’s fingers softly gripped into Spock’s forearms and she straightened herself, murmuring a thanks under her breath. 

“Let’s head back to the ship.” She said grabbing both Spock and Kirk by the arm and leading the group away from the watching aliens. 

1. 

The only lights in the engine room were the red flashing emergency lights. The zap of electricity was heard from frayed or snapped wires and steam blew from busted pipes. (Y/N) had her hair messily pulled from her face and sweat dripping down the back of her neck as she gritted her teeth. She was clinging tightly to a pipe close to the hyperdrive with a tool in hand attempting to fix the catastrophic problem that had come from a too close encounter with the Klingons. The Enterprise groaned and tilted causing (Y/N) to hold tighter to her only anchor. The tool fell from her hand as she squeezed her eyes shut. When she didn’t hear the clang of the metal tool hitting the floor for several seconds she suddenly realized how far off the ground she really was. She had already climbed several feet up the scaffolding before the ship tilted, but now even if she tried to drop to the floor she would begin falling toward the wall. The ship was almost completely on its side and there was no way she would survive a fall from where she was. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” (Y/N) whined as she willed her aching arms and legs to stay wrapped around the pipe. The metal beneath her hands quivered and clicked as pressure built up in the pipe. (Y/N) looked around for something, anything, that she could grab to move away from this pipe which felt like it was going to burst at any time. 

“Ensign (Y/N)?” Someone shouted her name but she couldn’t see where they were standing. 

“Help! I’m definitely stuck!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, hoping the person could pinpoint her location. There was a pause and then the sound of something exploding and crackling with electricity. 

“I can’t use the walkway, the ship has tilted too far and the alternative route has just been…obstructed.”

It was Spock! (Y/N) could have cried from relief even though he was telling her he couldn’t get to her. Something about knowing he was there with her made her a little less afraid. She took a deep breath and looked around again. This time for a way for Spock. She saw one on the North side of the room. It was just level enough that if He came through that door, he could carefully walk toward where she was. There was just one problem. 

“I see another way but,” (Y/N) let out a breathy, humorless chuckle, “You’re going to have to come in from the North hallway.”

Spock blinked in his spot against the wall. The ship shuddered and he stabilized himself with his hands. He heard (Y/N) gasp but didn’t hear anything else. The North Hall was all the way on the other side. He would have to backtrack and go around and who knows the state of that side of the ship. 

“That- that may not work.” 

“I know but there’s no other good way in.” (Y/N) could feel her arms tiring. If something didn’t change soon, she was going to fall. She felt her stomach sink at the thought. 

Spock didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t see (Y/N) so he had no idea what kind of state she was in. He swore under his breath. It didn’t matter. The only way to possibly help her was to go to the other side. If she sounded that calm, she must believe she’ll be okay long enough for him to make it. 

“I’m going around. I swear I will come to get you just stay where you are.” Before she could answer he was gone.

(Y/N) sighed and briefly rested her forehead on the warmed metal. “God, you have no idea how difficult that’s going to be.” 

She didn’t know how long she had been hanging there, but it felt like forever. Every few moments the ship would groan and shift and it was getting increasingly hard to stay on the pipe. (Y/N) felt her eyes sting with unwanted tears as her limbs grew numb. She grunted as she tried to adjust her grip. She bit back a sob. The metal was getting warmer. Air was compressing on the inside and pressure was building. At any moment it would- another awful groan, then a hiss and a loud crack as the metal in front of her chest broke open. (Y/N) screamed as hot steam hit her. Her arms and legs finally lost grip as the shock of the pain ran through her body. Another blood-curdling scream ripped itself from her throat as she fell from the pipe, quickly plummeting toward the far wall below her. When the hard material met her back, the air left her lungs as she gurgled on the fluid bubbling up in her throat, and just as the sensation of the pain of her fall crept in, the darkness in the corner of her vision overcame her. 

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” 

The sound was very faint but it was unmistakable. It was Spock calling her name. Her eyes were stubbornly refusing to open and the rest of her body felt numb but she could hear him getting closer. She noted through hazy sensation that she was lying on her side. The ship must have shifted again. Hands were on her. She couldn’t tell where but she knew the familiar pressure of Spock’s grip on her. A gurgling sound came from her as she was carefully turned over. 

Blood lazily drooled from her lips and her head flopped lazily to the side. She looked dead, Spock thought as he searched for a pulse. His eyes burned with unshed tears but he couldn't let himself feel at that moment. He had to focus on getting (Y/N) out. Like he promised. However weak it was, the pulse he felt beneath his fingers overwhelmed him. 

“(Y/N), can you hear me?” 

Yes. 

He got no response. Spock looked her over once again before gently scooping her up into his arms. It was as he walked toward the - now clear - exit of the engine room that he let his eyes roam the large burn on her upper chest. Parts of her uniform had been melted against her skin and some of the skin had started to blister. Spock tore his eyes away. He couldn’t stand to look. “I am going to get you out of here.” He said to her, but it was him who needed the reassurance. 

Burning. That’s the first thing (Y/N) smelled. As if someone were burning meat. It was to her horror as she opened her eyes and focused on her surroundings that the smell was coming from her own body. Despite her panic, she didn’t have the energy to move but, as she looked around at the infirmary she was in, her body decided that she had the energy to cry. Silent tears streamed down her face as she tried to make some kind of noise. To her left, the heart monitor began to rapidly beep in accordance to her rising heart rate which caused two people to come rushing into the room: Dr. Bones and Spock. Their presence told (Y/N) that she must be in a Star Fleet infirmary, maybe even still on the ship. Bones began to fuss over her, checking her vitals and talking to her in a soft but stern tone, 

“What the hell were you thinkin’ staying in the engine room? You were supposed to evacuate with everyone else.”

Obviously, Bones didn’t expect a response from the girl who still had tears rolling down her cheeks. He glanced at Spock who was awkwardly standing at the foot of the hospital bed, watching. When he looked back (Y/N), her wide, wet eyes were pleading up at him. 

“Now don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re on some pretty strong meds right now so you shouldn’t be feelin’ any pain. Once you’re more physically stable we can start your burn treatments and the physical therapy for your back.”

The heart monitor picked up speed once again as (Y/N)’s eyes seemed to get impossibly wide. Spock chose that moment to gently rest a hand on her leg in comfort. Bones shook his head softly. 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about all that right now. Just get some rest and you’ll be right as rain soon.” The doctor patted her head gently and with one final scan of the machinery in the room, he left the two alone. 

“I-” Spock started then stopped. His brown eyes found (Y/N)’s and he hesitated. He looked down at her hand before continuing, “I am sorry I did not get to you sooner.”

(Y/N) wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault. To grab his hand or shake her head no but she couldn’t. All she could do was look at him and listen as the man before her pleaded for her forgiveness. 

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait very long for Spock to take her hand himself. His skin was cold compared to hers and he felt her fingers twitch against his palm. His eyes snapped to meet hers. Her eyes were still watery but she was no longer crying. She sniffled softly and her cheek twitched, the corner of her mouth barely perking up into a small, lopsided smile. 

I forgive you.

Spock scoffed as a small smile of his own made its way to his face. He stood up and gently rested (Y/N)’s hand against the scratchy hospital blanket. Spock leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and sighed. He could still smell your shampoo in your hair. 

“Get some rest.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (2 of 4)

John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, briefly implied future physical injury, protective / possessive Soap, hand job, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl)

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You and Soap might no longer be together, but he is your "safe space", and you need to vent. While raging over the phone about your boyfriend, Soap arrives at your door.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

The anger and hurt in your voice are the only fuel John needs.

You have no idea that he is already on his way to you, that he hooked your phone call up to his helmet. That, even now, John is on his sportbike zooming down roads and weaving around cars in an effort to get to you.

There is a fire under his skin. It burns away all other concerns. Every word you speak is a blown furnace, the destruction mounting until each utterance infuriates him further. This “boyfriend” of yours, the one you started seeing after the two of you broke up, deserves a fucking sharp punch to the jaw. He deserves missing teeth and broken bones.

Men like him aren’t men at all. They’re rubbish, only valuing women as objects, seeing them as their housekeeper and not their partner.

In his ear, you’re hardly taking a breath. Your words are a stream of consciousness, each word angrily pushing into the other until it’s a jumbled mess. John listens to it all, using that as motivation to get to you. It’s doesn’t fucking matter that you’re not his anymore.

John still cares. He still loves you. The need to protect and defend you is innate. One teary-laced word was enough for him to drop everything and head in your direction. Doesn’t matter that you and he ended things a bit messy. It was simply complicated. The two of you needed to work a few things out but broke it off because that was the easy thing to do.

He regrets that. He regrets not fighting. Not getting his shit together.

The engine revs, and John turns onto your street, almost throwing himself off his bike to get to your front door. In one hand he’s holding his helmet. In the other, he’s holding his phone, the device pressed to his ear as you keep talking. Reaching out, he pounds on the door.

You immediately pause on the other side of the phone. “There’s someone at my door,” you murmur, voice slightly distant.

“I know,” he replies. “It’s me.”

Silence on the other end. But then he hears it—the familiar click of a lock. Following that is your front door opening, revealing you.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other. Your momentary shock slips, dipping into confusion.

“What are you—” you begin but promptly stop as John pushes past you and into the flat.

“Is that fucker here?” John strides into the kitchen, placing his helmet down on the counter before ending the phone call and slipping the device into his back pocket.

“John.”

He glances down the hallway and then turns to you. “Is he here?”

You shake your head. “No. He’s not here.”

John’s chest heaves with relief, some of the tension receding.

“John,” you repeat, the concern in your voice enough to smother some of that fire burning beneath his ribcage.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks softly, approaching.

His gaze roams up and down your body, searching for signs of injury. There is none, at least not that he can see. That doesn’t mean there aren’t marks somewhere hiding beneath the clothes. The very thought fans the flames, charging John’s nerves until they crackle like lightening.

“No, Johnny. I’m fine.”

Johnny.

Only two people are allowed to call him that and one of them is standing right in front of him. The use of it, the way it falls from your lips, is enough to slightly quiet the anger. He sighs, expelling some of that smoky frustration. But then his gaze flicks to a spot just over your shoulder, and a new feeling emerges.

There are fist-sized holes in the wall. Four of them. Much too large to be your hands.

“What the fuck are those?” John’s voice drops as he nods toward them.

The sadness that forms on your features nearly rips his lungs from his body. John has never seen you like this. Never this defeated.

“They happened after,” you answer.

“After what?”

“The argument.”

You and John have had your fair share of arguments, but he’s never punched a wall. He’s never thrown anything or threatened you.

Never. Fucking never.

No. Fuck this guy.

“You’re breaking up with him.”

“What?” you ask, flustered by his sudden outburst.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he murmurs. “Doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. To kiss your lips. To be in your presence.”

You deserve so much more than whatever this fucker is providing. Which is apparently nothing served alongside fist-sized gapping wounds in the plaster.

Your mouth opens like you’re about to reject the idea, but it’s not a suggestion. You are breaking up with him. You will leave him even if that means John doesn’t get to have you. That’s fine. That’s okay. He can live with that. What he can’t live with is knowing you’re with someone who treats you like rubbish.

He needs to get this off his chest, to make you understand that you are entitled to more.

“I listened the whole way here and you know what I heard?” He pauses and notices the slight quiver in your bottom lip. “That you’re unhappy. Have been for some time.”

You blink and fresh tears form there. John has to bite back the instinct to kiss them away. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

He licks his lips, a large sigh leaving him as he points over your shoulder. “He treats you poorly.” John’s hand slices through the air. “Walks all over you. Doesn’t answer you for hours and then gets angry with you when he finally makes contact.”

As John talks, even he can hear his voice thickening. This always happens when he gets worked up, and you’ve always playfully teased him about it.

“He’s a fucking waste of space.”

“John—”

“Break it off. And—fuck. If you can’t face him, then let me do it.” He places his hand on his chest. “Allow me to defend you.”

Your features soften and John wants to drink it in, to remember the way you’re currently looking at him. He remembers this side of you, the one that easily pierces him like a needle breaks skin. A look like this will put John on his knees if you ask him to.

“Johnny.”

He’s done. Gone. There is no coming back from this. Whenever you say his name like that, you’re either annoyed with him, wanting him to listen, or you’re just about ready to kiss him. It momentarily rips away all the thoughts in his head, leaving him temporarily mute before his brain can catch up again.

“Listen to me,” he says, gripping the sides of your face. “Get rid of him. I—I know you don’t want me but fucking hell. Don’t pick him. Don’t—”

John is silenced.

Not by your words leaving your mouth but from your lips pressing to his. It startles him—shocks him that you’re kissing him. Leaning into him. John responds, kisses you back, his tongue exploding with the remembrance of your taste.

But you’re still not his. You belong to someone else still and this isn’t right, no matter how much he fucking hates it.

“Stop, love,” he murmurs, pushing on your shoulders.

John loathes telling you to stop. To move away from him. Doing so is like fish hooks caught in the skin. He wants to reel you right back in, to taste your lips again, and fall into memory.

“I ended it,” you reply softly. “It’s over. That’s why there are holes in the wall.”

John pauses, his gaze growing serious. “What?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t like that I wanted him to leave. That I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

Your fingers dig into the back of John’s neck and that one touch is enough to dissolve his resolve about not kissing you into dust.

He closes the distance, and you welcome him in, opening beautifully.

“Am I your rebound?” he teasingly asks between kisses.

You laugh against his lips and kiss him again. “Why did I ever leave you?” Your question is a sad murmur tinged with a regret that leaches off your words and floods into his heart.

“Because I was an asshole.” He believes these words completely but you’re shaking your head.

“No,” you reply. “You weren’t. Never that.”

The kisses between you, which at first were soft, quickly develop into deeper passion, twining like a spool of thread around a bobbin. John drags you against him, tasting over and over until you are imprinted on his memory.

Your arms drape over the back of his neck to pull him even closer, and John snaps. That gentle resolve is gone. He needs you.

Reaching down to cup your ass, John lifts you off the ground until your legs naturally wrap around his waist. He knows where the bedroom is but that’s too fucking far. The desire writhing between and around his bones is a blood-beast. A feral thing that calls out for your skin against his.

Setting you down on the counter, John shoves his helmet out of the way. You’re already reaching for him, undoing the front of his pants, slipping in to palm him. The inhale you make when your fingers wrap around his cock is sweet and John breathes it in as if that one sound makes up his entire lifeblood.

Fuck. Fuck.

He’s going to taste you everywhere. His lips and teeth will mark your skin. His tongue will find a home between your legs. You’ll forget this fuckers name. He just needs a few hours and it’ll be his name you’re screaming.

You stroke him again, and John drags you right to the edge of the counter, intending to sink to his knees to worship between your spread thighs.

Your knees lock at his hips and with another stroke of your hand, you tell him what you want. “I need you inside me. I want to feel you.”

You ask so sweetly. He can’t say no. He doesn’t want to.

John helps you ease his pants down to his thighs. When he goes to undress you, he only finds underwear under that large, oversized shirt.

“Fuck, love.” John’s finger drags that fabric aside and he groans at the sight.

You’re already wet. Aching. Ready for him. Begging him to bury himself inside.

This one will be quick. It’ll be rough and he’ll probably fucking spill within a minute, but he has the whole night to take you over every surface in this flat, to make you writhe and moan beneath him.

Placing one hand on the counter and one on your thigh, John starts to ease in. Inch by inch, slowly, he disappears until there is nothing left for him to give. He has a perfect view of how you stretch around him. How you slightly clench and unclench, the pleasure of it shooting to the base of his spine.

“Don’t leave me,” you murmur as Soap begins to thrust into you.

“Never,” he replies, nuzzling the side of your face as you pepper him with kisses.

John anchors himself, snapping his hips, chasing the end just so he can get you back into that bedroom to do so much more.

“You’re mine,” he groans as your fingers dig into his skin, pulling him closer. “Always have been.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @keiva1000 @miss-mistinguett @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING SPOILED !!! FERNANDO A. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she could easily get away with things and when she couldn’t, he always made sure to put her back in her place

content warning: smut (minors dni!), pwp(ish?), what is context, explicit language, themes of jealousy and sugar daddy/baby relationship, degradation, dumbification, spitting, dacryphilia, impact play, brief mention of oral sex (m receiving), brat taming (dom!fernando), brief lance stroll x reader interaction, shitty smut, what’s beta reading we just rawdog our writing in here

note: i will be making a separate masterlist for this i think… lmk what you think and enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

send your 💌re:moony’s planner requests here!

she can get away from a lot of things. she knew that. fernando knew that. 

in fact, fernando would even reward her for it. after all, she never demanded too much and all he wanted was to give her the world.

she wanted a new pair of shoes? he’d buy her the sneakers AND a pair of red bottoms. she wanted something from macy’s? fuck that; he’d have his assistant book the whole floor of harrods just so she can pick out new clothes for her closet. 

he would give her everything. even if she tends to be very playful and hilarious, he’d give her everything just to see it.

her cheekiness was a welcome distraction from his busy life as a professional racer. she’d often tease him in different ways but not once did she ever cross the lines and tested his patience and limits. she wasn’t really a brat, to say the least— she’d often give up by the time fernando would wrap his arms around her and press kisses all over her face.

and if she didn’t give up her act, he’d put her back to her place. it rarely happened, and when it did— they were rough. she would continue to act up just so he could punish her. she welcomed the pain with no hesitation and allowed him to control her like she was nothing but a body to be tossed around. 

she could get away from a lot. whenever she couldn’t, her excitement would soak through her knickers while thinking about his next move.

but right now, she wasn’t really at fault for being so bratty. her petulant attitude toward him wasn’t something that she expected from herself, but when her partner continued to ignore her throughout the party after arriving separately— the least she could do was throw his attitude right back at him. more petulantly, if you were to compare her actions to his.

she sat by the bar counter and quietly sipped on her drink, her ears ringing at the sound of his laughter from the distance alongside other men while they spoke about the happenings during the race earlier today.

she looked so pathetic like this; dressed up in the prettiest slip dress that turned to be a fabric of despair. she was the prettiest woman to have ever existed, and even the rest of the grid thought so, yet she looked so alone. she blamed fernando for this. 

all she wanted was him. she only wanted him right now. nothing more, nothing less. 

yet, in a world where he’d give her everything, he wouldn’t hand himself over to her. instead, he was laughing with lewis and carlos as they chatted about whatever the fuck it was. 

“you’d make a good renaissance painting,” her head shot up at the sound as she found lance stroll sitting next to her. the canadian beamed at her teasingly before sipping on his whiskey on the rocks. 

she scoffed, “if you want to see me naked, just say that.” 

lance laughed over the club music that continued to bust everyone’s eardrums. he then continued, “i would say that but do i really want to get my engines busted by a certain teammate before the next race?” 

her thoughts drifted back to fernando, who, from afar, had gone quiet (not that she knew that), before she rolled her eyes. “don’t be stupid,” she said, “i don’t think he’d care enough to ruin your car.” 

“you’re underestimating the man,” lance chuckled, “way too much, if anything. he could kill with just a look if anyone’s made a passing comment about you.” 

“i really should stop showing up at these stupid races,” she muttered quietly, “it’ll get worse as soon as people find out i hang out in the garages or paddock.”

“why?” lance asked, his frown an evident of concern as he said, “are you two not a…” 

“no, we’re not,” she interrupted with a huff, downing the rest of her drink as she continued, “it’s still the same arrangement. i could just stay at home and still get an allowance— i dunno why i said i’d come with him. look where i am now. he’s doing the same shit he does whenever he’s arriving at the paddock— i have to go after him so nobody knows who i am.” 

it was so obvious that she and fernando should be more than a mutually beneficial arrangement. he showed her something more than financial support and casual intimacy— yet he kept it on the down low as if she’s just a pastime. 

“damn,” lance muttered, offering her a sympathetic smile as he said, “is the money that good?”

“i don’t even care about the money anymore,” she laughed quietly, her eyes pausing from their track as she saw the obvious glare from her partner. he certainly wasn’t happy with what he was seeing.

yet she ignored his heavy scowl as she beamed, “i’m sure you’d be able to provide more if it was about it.” 

lance smirked lazily, now realizing what she was implying as he replied, “i’m sure i would’ve given it to you already if you weren’t as attached to fernando as you are now.” 

looking away from fernando, she covered her excitement and petulance with a giggle before she shoved lance lightly. “shut up.” 

sure, she could get away from a lot of things. but the way fernando stared at her coldly while she was acting all playful towards lance told her enough about the kind of treatment a spoiled brat like her would get from him. 

all she could do was squirm at the thought. 

her mouth let out a shrill cry as fernando pulled her mouth away from his cock, saliva dribbling down her chin to her chest as she felt a sharp pain on the roots of her head. he continued to grab a handful of her hair as he looked down at her. 

his eyes showed nothing of affection. his face offered nothing but mockery and anger. not towards her— but her bratty attitude that she showed tonight. 

he never felt so jealous until he saw lance talking to her up close. and he’s never been angrier than what he felt when she let his teammate get close like that. like she could just move on after talking to the man with a flirtatious smile and get away from her crimes that easily. 

her petulance and constant refusal on the way back to the hotel led to where she was now. her thighs rubbed against each other while tears trickled down her reddening cheeks.

she was desperate for his cock and his touch. both of which she didn’t even deserve despite being his spoiled girlfriend.

she tried to be prideful and strong as she refused to listen to his orders. 

it was too bad for her because while she thought that her pride was big, fernando alonso’s pride was bigger. his ego and his desire to control were what she enjoyed most about this— and these were his tools to tame her. 

“did you think that you can get away from that, hermosa?” he spewed out, watching her as she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “not listening to me and letting those men get near you— you’re not very smart, are you?”

“m- fer—“ she babbled, only to be interrupted by the clicking of his tongue as his other hand gripped her chin tightly. finally letting go of her hair, he tilted her chin up to his direction without a word. 

he growled quietly, “you’re such a disobedient girl. a very ungrateful and disobedient girl. you don’t deserve my cock after all of this, hermosa.”

“n- no! please-“ she exclaimed, squirming against the hold on her chin as she pleaded with him, “‘ll be good! i’ll be a good girl, i pr- promise. jus’ wan’ your cock- please nando!” 

his breath fanned on her face as he chuckled quietly, “you don’t listen to me unless you want it, hm?”

his hand let go of the grip for a moment, only for his palm to strike her cheek as he gripped her face once more. “open.” 

her brain, feeling hazy from the impact of his slapping and being deprived of his touch and his cock, short circuited. fernando tsked, tapping her reddening cheek once more as he crooned, “look at you, amor. you’re so dumb for my cock, eh? such a stupid bratty girl— wanting my cock when she doesn’t deserve it— open your mouth, hermosa.” 

she obliged, not wanting to disobey him anymore as he grinned. his grin eventually turned into a frown before spitting in her mouth as he demanded, “you know what to do.”

closing her mouth, she swallowed without a hesitation while her glistening eyes looked up at him.

“so you listen then,” he laughed mockingly, “i thought i’ve already fucked your mouth until you turned stupid.” 

she rubbed her thighs against each other, hoping for some sort of relief as a whine escaped her throat. “what’s wrong, hermosa?” tears escaped her eyes as she continued to plead with him wordlessly. “that’s not going to get you anywhere right now— not after you pulled that shit earlier just so you can piss me off.”

she couldn’t find a way to speak, humiliation and pleasure mixed with her adrenaline as she babbled, “i- i wan’- ‘m…” 

“speak up,” he laughed once more. “you’re way too mouthy earlier— what is stopping you now?” 

she whimpered, feeling too frustrated and already feeling too fucked out. she really wasn’t going to get away with all of those things that she did just to catch his attention earlier.

she just wanted him, but she couldn’t seem to get it all out because of the immense pleasure that she received from being disciplined. 

he chuckled quietly, “you want my cock?” 

she nodded frantically, a series of murmurs escaped her mouth as she meekly cried out, “want you to fuck me, please, please, please nando~ ‘m a good girl.”

“no, you’re really not, hermosa,” he grinned wickedly, “if you were you would’ve known not to flirt with those people. but i guess it was my fault that i’ve left you hanging and horny before we went, no? otherwise you wouldn’t have been that stupid to tease them like you would with me.”

she squirmed again, whimpering at his words as fernando continued, “but i’ve given you so much that you always find a way to get some more. i think that my little slut should be thankful for what she’s getting instead of acting like a spoiled brat.”

she couldn’t even find herself to protest. she was so drunk in lust and his dominance that she couldn’t find herself to fight back against his words. 

her love for him would have to wait. she was in too deep right now and if it meant that she’ll get an orgasm and maybe more then she’d do whatever it takes to please him. 

after all, she was spoiled already. working hard didn’t sound too bad. 

[athletictaipan]

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Liability ||

Summary: When you nearly compromise The Organization on a job because of your impulsiveness, your boss August Walker decides it's time for a demotion; since you clearly still have much training ahead of you.

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own August Walker or any of the other Henry Cavill characters mentioned. This is a mature and morally gray story so browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Mafia Boss!August Walker | Hench(wo)man!You.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, m!dom, f!sub, the relationship is probably morally gray, slapping, throat fucking, power imbalance, pet names, hair pulling, deep throating, gun play, smut with plot (I am sorry I just couldn't stop), humiliation, degradation, camera play.

Note: Oh, my God! It's finally here, first Auggie fic go boom~ 

MASTERLIST

✟

"You're out, do not call again." You sighed into the phone and momentarily shut your eyes in frustration as you kept an eye out through the window of the dingy motel that you crouched next to, trying to stay one with the darkness of the room. 

"Boss…" It had taken you risking your life to buy a new sim card just to get him to pick up your call. "Come on, the whole thing would have gone south–"

"You have been told more times than can be counted to not take matters into your own hands" your form stiffened when you noticed a man from a rival gang casually stroll by the motel as he pretended to be a passerby. Fuck. As your eyes scanned the area you realized that you were slowly getting surrounded. "If anything goes against the plans it is protocol for the team to regroup and–"

"Boss… The Angels…" Had it not been August on the line, you would have masked the panic in your voice with not much effort or hesitation. "T- They're here…" There was a brief silence.

And then;

"That's your problem now, Y/n" your throat tightened when he did not use your gang alias. "I told you" there was shuffling on his side. Sweat broke out on your skin. That meant he was done with the conversation. "You're out." 

The line went dead.

Your tongue felt swollen as you glanced at the briefcase you had put everything on the line for. 

Just to lose anyways. 

Yes, alright. Maybe you had ignored Marshall's order to abort the mission and fought off Shaw because Kent had been incompetent enough to mess up hacking the target car's engine in time. And yes, maybe you had risked exposure by following the vehicle. But the fact of the matter was, no one had died and the asset was recovered all the same. The mask that you wore on missions had ensured the protection of your identity and though anyone from your line of work could tell it was Walker's notorious Wraith, no identifiable features meant no evidence.

But no. 

How could things ever end that easily? 

Solo being the asshole that he was just had to rat about the entire ordeal to Walker. 

Okay sure, maybe you had to shake off cops because one of the men inside the car had noticed you following them. And maybe you had had to wait for the streets to cool off for the rest of the day but that did not mean you had betrayed them by running away with the asset or something! 

Even if you had gotten caught -which you never did; hence your alias-, your boss should have known that you would sooner die tortured in a shithole slammer cell than rat.

You bit your tongue as you tossed the phone on the table after breaking the sim card, watching the inevitable unfold before you with vigilant eyes that stung from the moisture accumulating behind them as you readied what little weapons that you had on hand. 

The growing tightness in your throat was tugging at the back of your oral muscle and your jaw was aching from the strength it took you not to cave into emotion. But you held your nose high and snorted at the rivals– enemies before rolling your moist eyes at them. You could not help but critique them even then because if they were trying to blend in, they were frankly doing a shit job. 

"Of course" you snickered as you got up and went to stash the briefcase in the best spot you could find. 

The Diablos had teamed up with The Angels and the irony of that was not lost on you. 

So it took the State's top two gangs -that were arch rivals under usual circumstances- to bring The Wraith down, huh?

Being young and impulsive as you were, you had pissed all the wrong people off under August's wing.  You had earned it through your knack for casual brutality which was so devastating and sickening in nature that it seemed something innate for you. 

But now that the affiliation was gone, it seemed everyone wanted a piece of the once mighty Wraith. 

You burst into a cold chuckle again. 

All these men just to try to take down one girl, huh?

Crouching behind the bed with your gun aimed at the door after you had successfully hidden the cause of your demise in the most secure spot you could find -not wanting your foes to succeed even now-, you sucked in an icy breath and braced yourself for what was coming. "Here goes" you whispered to yourself as you pushed your airpods in your ears and blasted your music through them probably one last time. 

For if these were the last minutes of your life, you wanted to go out guns blazing with your favorite tunes blocking the ugly out.

That, and the emotions that were trying to dominate your mind and crawl down your eyes in your body's attempt to deal with the overwhelming sentiments surging through your body like electricity. 

No. 

August Walker's Wraith didn't do emotions– 

Wait. 

Fuck. 

You bit your tongue as you cussed at yourself. You did not belong to anyone. 

Especially not an asshole who had the audacity to doubt your intentions even after you had submitted to him everything you had had to offer. 

Service, body, mind, soul… heart. 

Your true drive behind striving to always get the job done was only to please him. It had been for a long time at this point. And so yes, you sometimes resorted to undesirable, disobedient means to achieve the goal but it was all only to make him happy. 

Richer. 

Contrary to the popular belief which had been spread around The Organization by Solo, you did not do it to move up the hierarchy. At least, not anymore. Sure, ambition had been your initial motivation before everything but nothing in the world mattered except for Master anymore. 

… The same Master that had abandoned you when you needed him most.

A humorless snicker escaped you at the thought and you couldn't help but shake your head. At the end, you were just like all those foolish girls that had come before you in different shapes and forms, belonging to different times and contexts; discarded cold and teary eyed at a crossroads for anyone willing in the end.

You had gotten lost in your thoughts, eyes focused on the door but peripherals ignorant to your surroundings; the flashes bouncing off the windows and the smoke of dust and gas permeating the air outside. 

You lost track of the minutes and songs that passed in mere fleeting moments to you as you forced yourself to recall basically everything despite the agony that you felt. You deserved the torture. A reflection on your entire life and how futile it had turned out to be in the end was important. It was only fair.

A man had been your undoing, this sentence wasn't enough. But it was all you knew in the moment. 

You were so completely focused on denying yourself any tears that you failed to take notice of a member of The Angels slamming into the glass of one of the windows as he was obliterated with some 7mm bullets.

It was only when the door shook by getting kicked that your heart and body jumped alike; pulling you back to the present, your heart strings tugging. Your hand tightened around your weapon. This is it. Clenching your jaw tight, you stabilized your breathing and waited for the enemy to kick the door in. The thought of just how pathetically you were cornered made you snicker as you shook your head.

Only, when the door swung free and you went to press the trigger did your chuckle die in your throat. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

Your heart weighed down in your chest until it was too much for your chest to hold and it let the organ fall into your stomach. 

Your breaths tightened.

The strength from your lungs drained.

Your fingers yanked the melodies away from your ears faster than you could register. 

Almost as though your body was suddenly on autopilot.

"B- Boss…?" 

The silhouette of a seething August blocked the doorway, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each pant of his breaths as his lungs churned. When his fingers roughly clawed at the switchboard to turn the lights on, his dark, glossy eyes came into your view before the rest of him did. 

The man was covered in blood as his pistol that held a metallic hue glinted in one of his hands. If you didn't know any better you would have said it seemed as though brief relief washed over his otherwise furious face when his bulging eyes finally located you in the room. Though his face instantly hardened of any emotion the moment it happened. His jaw clenched tighter as his eyebrows drew apart from each other, the cold blue of his eyes that were livid with chaos somewhat calming down while you gaped at him in shock.

The Boss never came down to the field himself. 

You had heard it had been a long time since he had last done it.

… All you had asked was for some backup.

What were you to make of this?

How–

"Kneel" oh.

But Master could. 

And he had. 

A ghost of a smile played on your lips as you rose and walked over to the middle of the room quicker than you could think, eyes wide and glassy. Your weapon slipped through your fingers the same time as when you collapsed on your knees in front of him; awaiting his next command with all the self-respect and ego you had conjured up in the last few minutes long forgotten. 

Nothing else mattered anymore. 

For Master was here.

There was no need for you to think anymore.

All that needed to be done now was to sit back and obey without question. 

August calmly walked over to you and stopped when he was towering over you, letting out an intentionally exaggerated sigh as he propped the tip of his weapon under your chin. "Liability" he had called you that the day Gus -your mentor and guardian figure in the whole organization- had finally presented you to him; The Boss, after months of trials. 

Your bottom lip wobbled with all that was cycloning through your head but you dared not speak. 

He had a way of making you feel so small and vulnerable it melted away your resolve every time.  

"Impulsive" the back of August's free hand that was covered in splatters of blood struck across your face and your head lolled to the side. "Stubborn" now your other cheek was caught in his fingers and you let your face swing free in the direction of the slap. Master was the only man who could treat you that way and you were nothing to deny him of his wishes. 

The barrel of his gun brought your chin back to the center again. "Headstrong" as another strike caused your face to sway in the same humiliating way, the knowledge that were he some other man you would have torn your revenge for treating you like this out of him sent tremors down your abdomen. 

You could but you wouldn't. 

Because it was August; the sole proprietor of your entire existence. 

The tip of his Sig Sauer brought you back in idle position again. "Non-compliant" as you received another harsh strike, you bit back your rising ire for though you submitted to him wholeheartedly, getting pushed around had never been your forte. 

But Master can do whatever he wants, you're his for treating however he desires. 

He was worthy of being worshiped.

Maybe he was the only man who deserved such service. 

And perhaps that was the reason why your hips clenched as hard as they did each time he treated you like you were nothing but part of the dirt under his shoe.

Like right now.

August centered you again and your insides threatened to boil over when you noticed that the broken door was open wide as it swayed with the gentle breeze of the night, the gap helping the guys to a perfect view of the inside of the room. 

You. 

And Master.

Whilst Syverson and Phillips had the decency -the latter probably only because you were a daughter figure to him- to look away, Solo, Shaw and Kent watched on shamelessly as they stood clutching their rifles, ready to shoot down any potential threat. 

"Disobedient" as your head lolled aside again, you felt your cheek sting just a bit harder than the other one due to the way your teeth dug in it, the gazes from outside only making it all the more worse. 

Your eyes traveled back to Master's darker, much stern ones. Fuck. You felt hot slick pool in your underwear. "Amateur" a whimper escaped you as the realization that the others could see you so vulnerable and submissive pricked the skin of your ears. "Overconfident" besides, this very personal dynamic you shared with your boss was private and none of your colleagues knew about it. So either August was ignorant of the door or he was so serious about whatever he was about to do to you, he didn't care. 

Although, since the man had an extremely vigilant nature, you doubted the former was the case. 

Which only left you with the latter conclusion… 

This time around, your face was recentered -you were never to do that yourself unless ordered to do so- not with the Sauer but with a harsh grip on your hair. "Seems to me you were not trained well enough to know your place, little girl" he had bent down to put his face in close proximity to yours, pulling you up by the grip he had on your head to meet him halfway.

Your lips fell agape as your knees burned, shaking just a little as you tried to triumph the induced Parkinson's. It was not easy to make the Wraith tremble. But championing impossibilities had always been August Walker's specialty. "Y- Yes, Master…" Cold, shaky breaths left you as you trembled under his glare. Your loins ignited to life and you couldn't help but subconsciously rock your hips against empty air. "P- Please t- teach me, Master…" You risked speaking out of turn, determined to win him back no matter what for you no longer remembered how it was like to function without him.

Without the sense of sanity and balance his commands created for you. 

And you were not willing to relearn it.

Ever. 

"Hm" August mused with obvious sarcasm. "Or," he let go of your hair and stood back up to his full height, raising the gun before pressing the cold, bloody tip to your forehead, "I could save us all a whole lot of time and just put you out of everyone's misery." His thumb moved to click the safety off, the sound flipping your stomach in the most vile of ways, none of which were concern for your wellbeing. 

"Whatever you deem fit, Master" keeping your eyes trained on him, you went on a limb and slowly moved to crane your head backwards and let the barrel crown trail between your eyebrows and down your nose. "Thank you, Master" the silent yet bright rage in his cold blue orbs caused for a shiver to run down your spine. 

Suddenly, the certainty that you were now sure to survive the night that had kindled after his arrival was extinguished just like that.

And yet, you parted your lips when the beginning of the barrel reached your mouth, sheathing it in your oral cavity and between your cheeks, the length causing them to hollow as you looked up at him. The metallic taste of the blood spatters that the Sauer was covered in caused your taste buds to sting as it further invaded your balmy cavern and the apex scratched against your throat. You tried not to cough, breathing through the nose as your hips helplessly rocked again with a mind of their own, the discomfort in the back of your mouth bringing tears to your eyes.

You were too far gone for this man. 

And there was no rationalizing or denying it.

"Now that's more like the pet I raised" your pussy clenched and you whined softly, wanting nothing more for the still seething man to take you against every surface available in the most depraved of ways. Each one that you were familiar with. "Remembering your place already, aren't you?" His now eased up breathing slowly started to clamber again as he reached for his fly with his free hand, pistoning the weapon in and out of your mouth to demonstrate how his cock was about to defile your mouth. Though you were to never move a single muscle out of turn, you could not help but bob your head along the Sauer in a horizontal fashion while your holes clenched again. 

You had come too close today. 

It could never happen again… if your boss would even allow there to be another time, that was. 

But for now, there were amends that needed making.

"Now then, what do we say?" August nearly slithered as he pulled the Sauer out of your mouth but didn't holster it, instead letting it dangle by one hand whilst the other tangled in your hair to pull you closer to his cock. 

"Want you in me, Master…" You resisted the urge to just open your mouth and move up on it.

You had angered him enough for a while. 

"Want me?" You cowered at his faux amusement that came out as a growl due to how enraged he was. 

"N- No…"

"No?" You gulped to yourself before trying again.  

"No–" you shook your head in panic, raking your mind to come up with an appropriate response. "I- I mean… N- Need you, Master…" Yes, that was certainly better. "Please…" Your bottom lip quivered as your words wavered with a pleading wanton in them. "N- Need you."

"And where do you need me?" The lack of contempt in his manner indicated that you were on the right track. Or at least somewhere near it.

"M- Mouth, M- Master…" Your nails dug into your thighs as you tried your best to hold back from touching him.

Disobedient girls didn't deserve to touch their Masters.

"And why do you need me in your mouth?" He let go of your hair to pump his monstrous girth a couple times as he stroked your cheek with the barrel of the Sauer. 

"T- To fuck my face, Master." You answered honestly, completely ignorant of how shocked Kent was at what was unfolding. 

Usually you were much more vigilant than this single minded mess you had become, but this was just the effect August had on you. 

"Is that right?" A twisted smirk made its way on his face. "And why do you need me to do such a humiliating thing to you, little girl?" You hadn't realized that your heart was thumping until its erratic beating began to put strain on your chest. 

"To be reminded of my place, Master." That seemed to finally create at least a semblance of satisfaction and your Master allowed you the tip of his cock at last. 

"And where is your place?" He waited patiently even though his body was clearly having a hard time holding back now that your warm lips circled his leaking tip. 

"Under you" you spoke through a mouthful of dick. "On my knees" you tried to kiss it to show your devotion but the puckering of your lips caused a loud suckling sound. His features twitched. "At your service, always" something else, a hungry dark, now mixed in with the bright lividness of his cold blue eyes and he grunted before pulling you closer by your hair, trailing the gun all the way down to your chest now. 

"That's right" he let go of your hair to slap your cheek before resuming his hold on the strands, grunting at the way his cock felt the vibration of his own palm from when he had struck you. "And you better remember that the next time you want to break protocol" your eyes widened in realization and hope flashed in your eyes. 

A chance. 

You tried to respond but his cock was too far into your mouth for you to be able to let out a coherent answer. Ao you chose to hum and unintentionally sent waves of pleasure all the way down to his balls. Well, all's well that ends well, right? You began to bob your head up and down with a newfound optimism, peeking up at his humongous form with pure adoration in your eyes. 

August cursed under his breath at the sight of you so submissive and comfortable in your humility. The sheer love and devotion in your eyes as your warm cavity clung to his cock, the mass of your lashes fluttering each time your face slid all the way down his length and the way his tip brushed your gag reflex with each movement, the stubble on his crotch tickling your nose as you did, it was all too much for him to handle with civility. 

"Use your hands" so he finally allowed you what you had been craving for. You felt your pussy throb when his thick veins twitched against your grainy tongue. "Go ahead, show me what you are good for" his voice was gravelly as the Sauer slipped into the neckline of your shirt and he let you feel the cold metal against your skin. 

You gladly complied, moaning at the feeling of the weapon against you, hoisting yourself further upwards on your heels as you reached for his balls with one hand and palmed them generously. Your head rotated each time you moved in on his cock, other hand working fast to pump him each time you pulled back until you were only sucking on his tip. 

"Look at you" August hooked one foot against your knee and pushed it apart to create more distance between your legs. "Maybe you should retire as solely my toy for the rest of your days, huh?" Leaving the weapon hanging from your shirt and tucked tightly in your bra, the older man clicked the safety on before clasping his fist around your throat. "You're much better at it than the job, anyway" the corners of your shoulders jutted upwards when his cock finally breached your swallow tract and tears fell from your eyes at last in thick drops at last.

Glancing up at August with your bloodshot eyes, you darted your tongue out to trace as much the circumference of his ballsack as you possibly could. He cursed heavily. "Just like that… good girl" the back of your throat was warm and even more inviting, enveloping him in such a way that an imprint of his cock appeared on your delicate skin, the ridges grazing against August's palm that pressed against it. 

Your head was now dizzy due to the lack of air but you did not care as you unplugged your mouth just enough to wheeze in as much air as you possibly could, releasing a fat wad of hot spit down the intimidating length of his cock that you pumped messily with your hand. There was a dull ache in your scalp because of the taut grip that he had on your hair. Your lungs burned. Your ears were on the verge of melting along your brain. Your jaw ticked due to his size. Your throat stretched each time he violated its inner cavity. Your pussy throbbed for attention and your abdomen pulsated painfully.

But none of it mattered. 

So long as you got to satisfy your Master, everything was bearable.  

"Fucking hell" August groused as he stilled your head in one place to reach as low as he could possibly go down the back of your oral cavity, pistoning short-paced thrusts up and down the space to fuck his orgasm out. Your trembling hands gripped his knees as you felt a strain in your jaw due to how his sack was widening it, obediently licking and sucking at his balls to the best of your ability. 

Somewhere amidst the thrusting and swallowing, your windpipe catched a drop and you coughed, further intensifying the man's pleasure as the turbulence caused a mix of your spit and his cum to spray out of your nose before it trailed down to your lips. 

August fished his phone out of his jacket and quickly snapped a shot of your state. 

Hair disheveled, mouth full of cock, red eyes full of tears that stained your flush cheeks, thick strings of drool and his seed dripping down your chin. 

"Make yourself look pretty for me" he nodded at you with a brief glance to his cock and where it connected with you. 

The camera was still trained at you when you obediently pulled him out with a gag and cough while pumping the rest of his cum out and onto your face. The flash of the lenses nearly blinded you as you looked up in the video that he was recording now, your tongue and swollen lips glistening as you painted yourself pearlescent. 

"Now, what do we say?" August panted once you were done. 

"Thank you so much f- for giving me a chance a- and fucking my face, Master" your voice was hoarse and a near whisper as you forced it out through your worked out mouth, licking your lips to collect as much of him as possible. 

"That's fucking right" he ended the video by squeezing your cheeks in his grip until your cum covered features scrunched in the most humiliating way before he landed a last slap to your cheek. 

August fixed himself up professionally like he didn't just fuck your throat into oblivion and you submissively waited on your knees, awaiting his next command. After he was satisfied with his appearance, the man wiped his hands on your jacket before he took his gun out from between your boobs and holstered it. 

"Up" raising one of his hands above his head, he snapped his fingers and allowed you the privilege of leaning on one of his arms as you scrambled up to your feet. 

A very stunned Shaw was by his side within the next second, his ears a deep, almost embarrassed red. "Retrieve the asset" the younger male awkwardly looked at your obscene state as you wordlessly nodded in the direction of the briefcase stash. "Now," August's fingers snaked around your hair again as he glanced down at you, "let's get my estranged Wraith home" your head lolled in his direction as he began to walk towards one of the many sleek black SUVs parked outside. 

"You have been demoted" he informed you once you had both settled in the backseat of one of the vehicles. August thrusted his phone in your hand. It displayed the picture that he had taken just a few minutes ago. "We will begin right from the start; the basement" your heart dropped. Oh, fuck. You had only been down there once and it was not a place where August was pleasant in any sense. And your sadistic lover was never much agreeable in the affectionate sense anyways. You definitely still had a lot to atone for. "Keep looking at this picture. I don't want your eyes off it for a second" the menace in his tone made you gulp as the humiliating picture burnt its way into your eyesockets.

A few seconds passed before you felt August's hands slip around your ass but you dared not look up to express your wonder. "Now… about that weeping little pussy of yours…" Honestly, it was hard not to notice. The stain you had made for yourself was too dark and wide for anyone to miss.  

✟

Thots and reblogs are much appreciated <3

Tags <3: @kittymiaow @enchantedbytomandhenry @thearcana-moonlight @lainiespicewrites @diannana @juliaorpll78 @slut-for-henry-cavill @chocolatecherryblossomsweets @sonnenbroesel @lovenewfandoms @secretdream2

[myster-roca]

Through Another's Eyes

The neon sign flickered in the distance, casting an eerie red glow that danced off the cracked asphalt of the motel’s desolate parking lot. The word "Vacancy" blinked in and out, barely clinging to life, much like the dilapidated building it was attached to. The wind carried the faint scent of dust and decay, whispering through the night, as if the very air was haunted.

Tim squinted through his cracked windshield, pulling his car into the far corner of the lot, enveloped in shadows. He sat there, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel, the ticking of the cooling engine echoing like a countdown.

His plan was simple: sneak in, steal anything worth a dime—cash, electronics, jewelry—and disappear before anyone noticed. It was the same routine he’d pulled dozens of times, but tonight, something felt different—off in a way he couldn't quite shake.

Still, he pushed the thought aside. He was dead broke, but that wasn’t anything new. He was used to surviving on scraps, drifting from town to town, picking pockets and breaking into places like this to scrape by. And now, he found himself here, in front of this run-down motel, a last-ditch effort to score enough cash to get him to the next nowhere town.

He wasn’t going through the front door. That was a rookie mistake. Tim needed to be smarter, stealthier.

He circled to the back of the building, crouching low as he spotted an old metal hatch. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, maybe an old laundry chute or some kind of service entrance, long forgotten.

The bolts were rusted, the metal cracked—an afterthought in this crumbling relic. Tim pulled a utility knife from his jacket, a tool that had gotten him out of many tight spots. He wedged it between the hatch and the wall, gritting his teeth as he applied steady pressure. One hinge snapped, then the other, until the hatch swung open just enough for him to slip through.

The space beyond was tight, suffocating, like the walls were closing in. Tim’s pulse hammered in his ears as he crawled through the hatch, the cold metal scraping his skin.

Every movement felt deliberate, the darkness pressing against him, thick and oppressive. His breath caught, the damp, stale air seeping into his lungs, choking him for a brief moment before he forced it down. This was it—just another job. Nothing he hadn’t handled before.

But something about this felt different.

Pushing deeper into the narrow passage, his fingers grazed the cold, grimy walls, his mind racing. Then he noticed them—small, foggy windows lining the walls, barely catching the faintest glints of light.

At first, they seemed like nothing, but as Tim’s eyes adjusted, a cold realization gripped him. One-way mirrors. They weren’t just glass—they were portals, hidden views into the motel rooms beyond.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. Each mirror offered a voyeuristic glimpse into the lives of the unsuspecting guests on the other side.

Tim paused at one of the windows, his breath stilling in his chest as he leaned closer, peering through the foggy glass. The room beyond looked unremarkable at first—a bed, a couple of chairs, an unused TV in the corner. But it wasn’t the room that caught his attention.

It was the two naked men inside.

They sat across from each other, a heavy silence hanging between them. The younger man, his sharp features framed by a dark undercut, exuded a kind of elegance that only comes with age and experience.

The other, a bit older, with lines etched into his weathered face, radiated a quiet, unshakable confidence. But beneath the calm exterior, Tim could sense it—something dark and unsettled lurking just beneath the surface.

Tim watched them intently, feeling a strange sensation stirring within him. There was something intimate about this, more than just a conversation between two men. He pressed closer to the glass, his pulse quickening as he eavesdropped on their words.

The older man broke the silence first, his voice quiet but laced with regret. “I’ve been thinking… about everything. All the years, all the things I didn’t do. The things I wanted to do but never did. And now… now it feels like it’s too late.”

The younger man listened, his expression softening as the older one continued.

“I spent my life chasing what was expected of me. The job, the family, the routine… but what I wanted, deep down, I kept pushing aside. I always told myself I’d get to it eventually. But time… it slips away. And now, here I am, wondering why I didn’t act sooner.”

Tim felt a tug in his chest as he listened, the rawness of the man’s words striking something deep inside him. Regret. The bitter weight of not following one’s true desires. He had felt that before, hadn’t he? The tension of living a life that didn’t quite match what he wanted. As he stood there, hidden behind the walls, something stirred—something dark and sensual, an unspoken yearning he’d kept buried.

The younger man leaned forward, his tone gentle. “It’s not too late, Dan,” he said softly. “We’re here now. And we can still do what we’ve always wanted. We can still be who we want to be.”

Dan’s eyes met Ron’s, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. “I’ve wasted so much time, Ron,” he said, his voice low, almost pained. “But now, here with you, I feel like I can finally be who I am. No more pretending.”

Tim felt his breath catch as the atmosphere shifted, the air heavy with something unspoken yet undeniable. The words exchanged between the two men weren’t just about regret anymore; they carried a charge, a raw sensuality that made Tim’s skin prickle. He knew he shouldn’t be watching, but he couldn’t look away. The intimacy in their conversation, the quiet longing in their voices, stirred something primal in him.

The younger man, Ron, stood and walked toward a black duffel bag on the floor. He unzipped it with practiced ease, pulling out two folded skinsuits.

Tim’s eyes widened. These weren’t costumes—they were realistic, eerily lifelike male body skinsuits. Each was crafted to mimic a sculpted male form, from the rich ebony tone of one to the leaner, more defined build of the other. The craftsmanship was impeccable, every muscle and contour disturbingly real.

“You really brought them,” the older man, Dan, said, his voice filled with awe.

Ron nodded. “We both want this. You deserve to feel it—to be who you’ve always imagined.”

Tim’s eyes locked onto the older man, whose trembling fingers skimmed over the muscular form of the suit. He traced the lines of biceps and abs that didn’t belong to him, his breath quickening as his touch grew bolder. Anticipation flickered in his eyes. "It… it feels real," he whispered, almost in disbelief.

"Of course it does," the younger man said, already preparing to step into his suit. "This isn't just about pretending; it's about becoming someone else entirely.

Tim's mouth felt dry as he watched the transformation unfold. Dan slipped into his suit, his expression a mix of fascination and excitement. With a deliberate step, he slid one leg inside, the material clinging to him as if alive.

As the synthetic suit stretched over his body, muscles rippled beneath, his frame thickening. His chest broadened, pecs standing proud, and abs carved into firm ridges. His arms swelled, veins pulsing, while his waist tapered.

His legs thickened with powerful thighs, and his calves bulged as they flexed. His face shifted, seamlessly molding into a square-jawed, rugged mask framed by a dense, dark beard. The older man had become a handsome hunk, exuding raw, masculine strength.

Ron followed, his lean physique transforming into a hulking form. His hair vanished beneath the suit, leaving him bald except for the dark beard framing his square jawline. His frame seemed to melt into the suit, which stretched and reshaped him completely. His chest broadened, and as the suit closed over his shoulders, his lean muscles swelled into a statuesque form.

His skin darkened to a smooth, flawless, rich tone. His once-slender arms were now sculpted with taut muscles, his legs strong and perfectly proportioned, a vision of masculine beauty. His hands touched his face, feeling his features change.

His jawline sharpened into chiseled perfection, framed by a neatly trimmed beard. His lips curved into a confident smirk, and his eyes gleamed with new confidence. The false black guy stared at his reflection, seeing a handsome, muscular model looking back.

The transformation was breathtaking. Both men stood chiseled, their bodies sculpted into ideal forms of masculinity.

They stood there for a moment, letting their new forms settle over them. The air was charged with something else now—desire, lust, an unspoken need. Ron's muscular figure reached out, fingertips tracing Dan's new broad chest, exploring the unfamiliar landscape.

"I’ve always wanted this," the new handsome hunk admitted, his eyes locked on the new black man as his hand drifted lower. "To feel like this. To be like this."

The black guy’s face softened as he cupped Dan's new crotch. "I know. And I want it, too."

Dan groaned as Ron squeezed him through the skin, the material clinging so tightly it left no mystery to the shape beneath. Tim felt himself stirring at the sight, his own arousal building in tandem with what was happening in front of him. He reached into his pants, fingers wrapping around his cock as he stroked himself. This was wrong—so wrong—but he couldn’t help it. The raw need that permeated the room, the forbidden nature of their attraction, the primal sense of watching something he shouldn’t—it was all too much.

Dan stepped forward, hands trailing down the black guy's arms, his fingers skimming the muscles bulging beneath the skin. Their lips met, a soft, hungry kiss that deepened as they wrapped their bodies around each other. They moved onto the bed, their hands exploring each other’s new forms, the friction of skin on skin sending a thrill through Tim’s own flesh.

“You feel so good, Ron.” Dan groaned into the other guy’s mouth as their hands continued to explore. “Everything about you…”

Ron pulled back, his beard scratching Dan’s chin. “You’re amazing too. I don’t know how much more of this foreplay I can take.”

Dan chuckled as he flipped Ron onto his back. The black muscled figure moaned as Dan’s hand gripped his dick, stroking him through the suit. He reached down, sliding a finger beneath the material to tease the tip of Ron’s dick. They kissed again, their bodies rolling on the bed as they rubbed against each other.

“I want to feel you inside me.” Ron gasped as Dan squeezed him harder. “Fuck me in this new body of mine.”

Dan grinned as he fumbled for something in the duffel bag. He returned with a bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount between his fingers. Ron hissed as Dan worked his hole, his skin tightening as he stretched him open.

When he felt ready, Ron rolled onto his stomach, looking back over his shoulder as he spread his legs. “I want you to take me, Dan,” he begged, his voice hoarse with need. “Show me what you’re working with.”

Dan slicked his cock and positioned himself behind Ron. He held the black muscled figure's hips, looking down at the inviting ass waiting for him. Tim’s fist tightened around his own dick as he watched, his breath hitching as Dan started to push inside. The false handsome hunk groaned as Ron took him in, his cock disappearing into that perfect ass, his balls slapping against Ron’s skin.

“Fuck, Dan. You feel so big.” Ron writhed beneath him, his body trembling. “Give it to me. Show me who I am.”

Dan began to thrust, his powerful hips driving into Ron’s ass. The younger man arched his back, crying out as Dan slammed into him, the skin of his suit tight and taut against the force of Dan’s cock.

“More,” Ron demanded, his hands clutching at the bedcovers. “Harder.”

Dan gave him more, his hips moving back-and-forth as he fucked the synthetic black man. Ron whimpered, his backside clenching around Dan’s cock with each thrust. Their skin slapped together, echoing through the room as they took each other hard and rough. Tim could feel himself building toward something, his cock aching as he watched their bodies strain together.

Ron pushed back into each thrust, meeting Dan stroke for stroke. Their grunts mingled in the air, thick with need and lust. It was like nothing Tim had ever seen before—two men lost in each other, completely consumed by desire. He’d always known he wanted things he shouldn’t, but this was something different. There was a primal sense of power in watching their bodies writhe together, their suits mimicking something real but not quite human. Something darker, wilder.

The air in the room seemed to grow hotter as their tempo quickened. Dan was close, his thrusts becoming rougher as he chased his orgasm. Ron moaned, his hand reaching down to jerk himself as Dan’s cock hit his prostate.

“Oh, fuck,” Dan growled through gritted teeth. “I’m going to come.”

“Do it,” Ron gasped, his fist moving faster. “Fill me up with your cum.”

Tim’s fingers tightened around his cock as Dan slammed into Ron, his body shuddering as he came deep inside the synthetic man’s ass. Ron cried out, feeling Dan’s cum flood him, his own cock shooting ropes of cum across the bed. Their bodies trembled together as they rode out the intensity of their orgasms, their cries filling the room, lost in the heat of the moment.

When they were spent, Dan pulled out of Ron’s ass and gently turned him onto his back. He leaned down, kissing the false black man passionately, their lips lingering as they savored the afterglow.

“You feel so good,” Dan moaned into the kiss. “So hot and tight. I can’t get enough.” His hand slid down to grip Ron’s cock, stroking him while their lips remained locked.

Ron moaned, arching into the touch. “I love feeling your cum inside me. It’s so hot.” His hands trailed up Dan’s back, tracing the muscles rippling beneath his skin. “Fuck, you feel amazing in this skin. All that muscle on you is incredible. I’ve always loved a big man.”

Dan laughed softly against his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself. I like this bald look on you.”

Ron groaned, rubbing his cock against the older man's muscular form. “I could do this all night, but we need to get ready for the club. It starts in thirty minutes.” He pulled back, his eyes gleaming as he looked at Dan. “And we’ll need to use new skinsuits.”

He reached for another duffel bag, unzipping it to reveal two new sets of skinsuits. Tim squinted at them, taking in every detail—the muscle definition, the skin tone, even the patterns of hair. These suits were just as realistic as the last ones, and he couldn’t wait to see how they would look on.

“Only these identities are allowed in the club. We have to wear them if we’re going to get in,” the young man in the black man's skin explained.

Dan hesitated, his hands running down his chest. “I don’t want to take this off,” he admitted. “I… like this one. I like who I am.”

Ron chuckled. “And you can still be him after tonight. But for now…” He pulled out the new suits, shaking them until they unfolded into life-sized replicas of human bodies. “Trust me, Dan, you’re gonna love it.”

“You always know how to convince me,” Dan said, taking one of the suits from Ron. “These will be fun,” he added, running his hands over the synthetic flesh.

The two men began to peel off their suits, tossing them aside like discarded skins, shedding the skins until they stood naked once more. Their real bodies were now exposed—nothing like the godlike figures they had transformed into earlier. With practiced ease, they slipped into the new suits, their faces lighting up as their new forms settled into place.

The older man’s new skin was smooth, hairless from the neck down, with muscles defined but not overly bulky. His cock was long and thick, his balls hanging heavy between his thighs. The younger man became a hulk, his frame broad and powerful, muscles sculpted to perfection. His cock was thicker this time, with his balls a heavy weight between his thighs.

They dressed quickly, pulling on leather pants and jackets, the fabric stretching tight over their new muscles. Dan flexed to test the fit, admiring his reflection, his eyes bright, lips curling into a smile.

“You ready?” Ron asked.

Dan nodded, adjusting his jacket. “Fuck yeah. Let’s do this.”

They kissed one last time before leaving the room, shutting the door behind them. Tim remained hidden,his heart pounding, adrenaline surging from what he had just witnessed. The idea of transformation, of becoming someone new, was intoxicating. It gnawed at him, primal and irresistible.

He waited, listening until their footsteps faded. Then, as he shifted, his foot knocked against the wall. He froze. The soft impact caused a tremor, and he noticed something—a brick in the wall wobbled slightly, as if it had come loose.

Curiosity overruled caution. Tim nudged the brick, and to his shock, the wall slid open, revealing a passage leading directly to the room he had just been watching.

It felt surreal, like a dream. But it was real. Without hesitation, he crawled through the gap, his heart racing as he emerged on the other side. The room was dim, the air heavy with an electric tension. His eyes were drawn immediately to the skinsuits lying discarded on the floor.

He stared down at them, a chill running through his body as he picked one up off the floor. As he brought it closer, his breath hitched at the uncanny sensation of touching something so real, yet so fake.

The texture was disturbingly lifelike, so much so that he could have sworn it was real flesh beneath his fingers. It felt almost criminal to hold it. He cradled the skinsuit in his arms, and the realization hit him like a wave. He could take one of these suits, wear it, and become someone else. A new face, a new identity—a new life.

He shoved the skinsuits into the duffel bag and slipped back into the hidden corridor, carefully closing the secret opening behind him, sealing the passage from view once again. He sprinted down the narrow hallway, not stopping until he reached his car and sped off into the darkness.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw the neon lights of the motel flicker out of sight, leaving him with the same thought as the two men earlier:

“We can still do what we’ve always wanted. We can still be who we want to be."

--- ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ---

"Thanks for reading! Your support means the world. Follow me to explore more content and updates:

https://linktr.ee/mysteroca

[chiefdirector]

Earthquake | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Earthquakes were nothing unfamiliar to the residents of Los Angeles, so much so that if there was a period of time without a quake, it would be seen as some form of miracle or divine intervention. After having many quakes and natural disasters, you adjust. Tim never had to adjust to the infamous LA earthquakes, he was born and raised here. Something like a quake was just another Tuesday to him.

Before he would have scoffed seeing his colleagues so disturbed by the idea of a quake, but now he felt sick to his stomach. He could feel the nausea rise up his throat as he called out over the radio again, hoping that his fears would be satiated.

“Control, this is 7-Adam-100. Status report in Detective (L/N).” He said, trying not to let his voice shake as the ground did moments ago. “Control-“

He was cut off by the gruff reply of some poor control officer who would no doubt feel the wrath of Sargent Bradford. “No reply. Detective (Y/N) is currently unreachable.”

Quickly, he raised the radio back up, this time practically barking his question out. “When was the last time you had contact?”

Tim held his breath as the radio remained silent for a moment. He did not believe in anything supernatural but by god did it feel like time stopped.

“Over an hour ago; at 15:42.”

“Goddammit,” he snapped, almost throwing his radio across the briefing room.

Seeing his rage, Chen sidestepped away from his current line of trajectory, quite liking her head without a radio sized dent in it.

The first quake had hit at approximately 15:47. Tim knew what (Y/N)’s silence implied. He tried not to think of the worst case scenario, but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t used to nice things, he wasn’t used to being happy and now that he had finally found joy and happiness, it was only natural that the universe would take it away again.

“Tim,” Chen said timidly. If Tim did not know any better, he could have mistaken her for a child in the way she was slightly cowered away from her. “I had control send her last location to our box, we can go now. I’m sure Grey won’t mind.”

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts, channelling almost all of his energy into the task ahead of him. The small fraction of energy he left aside was to stop him from assuming the worst; thinking of all the horrific outcomes would do him no good.

—-

Tim was never one to spend time with his feelings, if anything he repressed them. When he was a kid, his father used to tell him that emotions were weak, and that ‘real men don’t feel.’ He had taken that mindset into the military, and into the LAPD. It was only when (Y/N) had started to break down his walls did he let himself feel emotions properly for the first time in years. It was like seeing colour for the first time. However, despite all the good it did him, he couldn’t help regretting it slightly as he sat in the passenger seat of the shop, watching Chen drive closer to when (Y/N) was last seen.

“Can’t you drive quicker, Chen,” He snapped, flickering his eyes from her to the road and back to the patrol officer once again.

“Not without breaking fifty traffic laws,” She rebutted. Now that he wasn’t her training officer any more, she would have given him a bit more attitude but now isn't the right time for that, even she could recognise that. “We’re nearly there, the GPS said that her shop was last seen…”

Chen’s words trailed off as the two officers watched as a car wrapped around a tree came into view. The front was completely smashed, with glass and shrapnel landing almost everywhere. There was a small trail of smoke coming from the engine. The car was easily recognisable as one of the LAPD patrol vehicles, the exact same type that Detective (L/N) had left the station in that morning.

Without thinking, Tim sprinted out of the vehicle whilst it was still moving. Without waiting for Chen to stop, he moved with near inhuman speed towards the wreckage. Trying to see if there was any sign of life from within.

“(Y/N)” he called, looking in through the shattered window. Blood was spread across the steering wheel and the driver's seat, glass haphazardly brushed aside from the spot. Tim recognised her handbag tucked in the passenger footwell. IT was the only sign that she had been in the car at all. “Please, baby, say you're here.”

“Any luck?” Chen said, jogging over to his side. Tim needn’t respond though, the tragic look on his face said enough. “Oh god, she isn’t… is she?”

Bradford just shook his head “There’s nobody here. Completely empty. Call it in.”

Lucy nodded, taking a step away to report what had been found. Tim just sat leaned against the car. Briefly he shut his eyes, trying to ground himself back to reality. A part of him wanted to pinch himself to wake up from this nightmare, but another part of him knew that it wasn’t a dream at all.

Slowly, he began to move himself upwards when he heard a rustling in the shrubbery. On instinct, he raised his weapon, calling out for the intruder to raise their hands. He got no such reply except another round of rustling, except it didn’t sound like it was caused by the wind, it sounded too human-like to be anything natural.

Keeping his paces light, he followed the sound as made his way into the shrubbery. He made it only around twenty feet before he saw the cause of the rustling. (Y/N) lay leaned up against a tree, dried blood sat on her forehead and down her left cheek. The rest of her face seemed like it had already started to swell and bruise from the impact. The most jarring thing was not the injuries or the dirt decorating her body, but it was the light-hearted gratin she wore.

“Hey Timmy,” she said, voice light and airy, as if he had woken up early on a sunday morning and not that she had almost died.

“(Y/N),” he practically cried rushing to her side. He gently cradled her face, trying to get a better look at the gash on her forehead from where she had slammed into the steering wheel. “What happened? Are you okay?”

She flashed him another grin as she raised her hand to rest on top of his. “I’m fine, mildly concussed maybe, but I’ll live. And the car crashed, I was knocked off the road when the quake hit. There was nothing I could do to stop it.”

“Why didn't you call for help, do you know how worried I was?”

“My radio is in the car, which was on fire by the way.” She said, almost too lightheartedly for the situation, before her tone turned sombre, “I’m sorry I worried you.”

He kissed her forehead. “Just don’t do it again, I don’t think my heart could take it.”

Ignoring her protests that she could walk by herself, he moved to pick her up bridal style and carry her back to his shop, where Chen was waiting for him. Sure, he was prepared for an earthquake, but Tim wasn't prepared to lose (Y/N), not now, not ever.

Masterlist

@rookietrek @kmc1989 @augustvandyne

[smileysuh]

ride night TEASER

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “You always told me you had a thing for older men. Said I wasn’t your usual type- not daddy enough for you, well, here you go, baby. Let daddy hear you moan for my cock.” You seriously can’t believe this is happening. All you can do is try to relax while Hyuck fucks you stupid in some dive bar bathroom stall, your core still throbbing and desperate after six orgasms from a vibrator while on his bike. The fingers on your oversensitive bud are unrelenting, just like your boyfriend, and at this point, you can’t even bring yourself to care that his ride night dad is listening in, only a few feet away. 

tw/cw. Exhibitionism, riding a Harley with a vibrator inside of you, multiple orgasms, fucking in a bar bathroom while someone (John) listens in, overstimulation, unprotected sex, vibrator as a ball gag, voyeurism, dirty talk, praise, choking, brief pussy eating, Hyuck has tattoos, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.9k

🍭 aus. Established relationship au, motorcycle au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. The I love Harleys saga continues but this time with NCT

You close your eyes, giving in to the onslaught of sensations. 

The air ripping at your tight riding jacket, gravel buffering your knees ever so often, music ringing through your helmet, the powerful vibrator in your pussy, and the even more powerful machine that Hyuck maneuvers like a God-

If you focus too hard, if you allow yourself to enjoy all of this, you might just cum, and part of you wants to resist that, so you open your eyes, looking over at John on the bike next to you.

Hyuck might be the notorious dare devil, but John’s not all that angelic either. The man is standing straight up on his foot pegs, his butt raised completely off his seat. The wind is tearing at his leather jacket, and you can’t even imagine the pressure of the air he’s cutting through, battering at his body-

Even so, he looks as free as you’ve ever seen a man look.

Your pussy pulses pathetically around the toy and you grip Hyuck’s hips, legs shaking around his own.

His hand lands on your thigh, squeezing, as if to say ‘cum for me,’ and your body can’t help itself this time. You release all the pressure, your muscles going slack for a moment of peace before contracting from the power of your orgasm.

Your core throbs desperately around the vibrator, your eyes closing to enjoy the sensation.

Hyuck takes his hand away from your thigh, revving the engine and kicking into an even higher gear. The bike purs below you, as if she - like her master - is amped up from the energy of your release.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.9k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday June 14th, 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

There are limited spots available on the taglist, if you want to be notified when this fic is posted, please reblog, comment, or reply- those three actions will be prioritized in taglist creation :)

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Happily Ever After

Next Part of Happily Never After

Warning: kidnapping, character death (not you), torture, mention of past abuse, cannon typical violence, angst with a happy ending, fluff, everyone needs a hug.

Word Count: 14.4K

Wanda was trying to keep calm and have a level head. It would do no one good if she were to have a breakdown. They were in the conference room waiting for Maria. Bucky was playing a round of Mario Party with her boys, and Natasha was pacing with her phone glued to her ear, speaking rapidly in Russian. She would have been able to understand her if her mind wasn’t spiraling. She picked up words like ‘mother’ and ‘missing’. She guessed the redhead was talking to Melina and updating her on your sudden disappearance.

Wanda began to bite her nails. If you were here, you would have grabbed her hand and stopped her. But you weren’t here. You were missing, and Wanda was freaking out.

The door opened, and Yelena walked in, followed by Maria and someone Wanda assumed was Steve. She’d only seen the man in pictures. “Boys,” Bucky paused the game. Why don’t we go to the cafeteria while the grown-ups talk?” Billy looked at the new additions and then back at Wanda.

“We aren’t leaving our mom,” Oh, Wanda loved his heart. Each day, he reminded her so much of Pietro. He always knew when something was bothering her.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Wanda said. Go with your brother and Bucky. I’ll come find you when we are done.” Billy was quick to hug her tight, and Tommy joined in. She needed a hug much more than she realized. She watched them leave. She was a little hesitant not to have them in her sight, but she knew Bucky would protect them.

“Wanda,” Maria said once the door closed. It’s good to see you again. It’s unfortunate to meet like this.” It was a brief meeting between her and the agent. You were invited to a gala in the city, and you introduced her to Maria. “This is my partner, Steve Rogers,” Natasha got off the phone, and everyone sat down. We will find her, I promise.”

“So you can confirm she’s been taken,” Natasha said. Steve nodded.

“As soon as you called Maria, we pulled up Y/n’s phone records,” he put a laptop on the table so Natasha, Yelena, and Wanda could see it and hit play.

A woman stood on the side of the road next to a smoking car. She began to flag down a passing car with a wave of her hand. Wanda recognized your car, stopping behind it, and you got out. You spoke with the woman before going to the hood and opening it. A cloud of smoke circled you, and you waved the smoke out of your face.

It happened quickly. Two men appeared in the nearby alley while you were bent over to look at the engine. The woman you were helping had a pipe in her hand and hit you in the back of your head. Before your body hit the ground, the two men caught you and dragged you down the alley. Steve closed the laptop. “Our team is tracking the vehicle and facial recognition as we meet here.”

“Her parents,” Yelena said. Where are they? They have to be behind this.” Before Maria could answer, the door opened again, making Wanda jump.

“Vision,” Wanda stared at her ex-husband. “What are you doing here?”

“I am so sorry,” Sarah appeared behind the man. “I told him this was a closed meeting, but he was persistent.”

“It’s fine, Sarah,” Natasha said. Your secretary nodded but narrowed her eyes at Vision before she left.

“I am sorry for interrupting,” he sat down in an empty chair and loosed the tie around his neck. “When I listened to the voicemail from the school, I knew something was wrong. I know Y/n wouldn’t leave our sons at school.” Wanda was having trouble processing everything that was going on. She watched her girlfriend get attacked and dragged into a van. Now, her ex-husband was showing genuine care for you.

“You hate her,” Natasha bluntly said. When did you start caring for her?” It was a valid question, and Vision looked offended by the accusation.

“I never hated her. We came to an understanding. Look,” he shook his head. “It’s not important. Is her sudden disappearance related to the Order of Protection?”

“Order of Protection?” Wanda questioned. “What are you talking about?” His eyes jumped on everyone in the room, hoping someone knew what he was talking about. Everyone stared at him. He cleared his throat.

“At the boys’ birthday party, she asked me how hard it was to get an Order of Protection in New York,” he spoke slowly. The party was four days ago. You went all this time without telling her. Wanda knew you were holding more back, but she trusted you to come with her. “This hypothetical order of protection was going involve a family member.”

“It has to be her parents,” Yelena said. “But all they’ve done is call her, right?” Maria sighed. Oh, Wanda hated the sound of it.

“When we find our best friend, remind me to slap her,” Wanda smiled at her dry humor. “I think we all need to take a trip to headquarters. We can catch you up to speed there.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A cup of water was forced to your lips, and you downed all of it. It was a relief for your dry throat. “Are you ready for some visitors?” You stayed quiet, knowing you had no choice in the matter. Tiffany opened the door. A man wearing a gray suit walked in, and his shaggy blonde hair was parted to the side. Black glasses rested on his face, which he took off and put into his suit pocket. A strange feeling started to bubble in your stomach. Was it in anxiety? Stress? Or recognition? The knock on your head was throbbing and making it difficult to think. He smiled as he spoke, “It’s an honor to be in your presence. My name is Alexander Pierce.”

“I know you,” you whispered. “You’re friends with Fury. You were at the gala when SHIELD was given a key to the city.” The man chuckled.

“I’m glad our men didn’t completely knock all your brain cells out,” Pierce walked behind you, but you kept your eyes trained on the ground. You were so tired. “Did our beautiful host tell you who we are?”

“HYDRA,” you answered. You figured it would be easier to comply. “I don’t understand what you want with me. I’m not an agent. If you want money, I can give it to you.” You felt his hands on your shoulders and squeezed them.

“I call it an unfortunate circumstance,” he said. SHIELD has something we want, and in exchange, they get you back. Simple.” So you were bait, used because of your connection with the man on top.

“Fury doesn’t make deals with terrorists,” Pierce chuckled, grabbed your throat, and forced your head back.

“I’ve been told he has a soft spot for you,” he squeezed your throat and cut off your air supply. “If he does not do exactly as I say, he’ll receive you in pieces at his doorstep,” you gasped for air as he removed his hand. “Get comfortable. We’ll see each other soon.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Oh, I’m going to fucking kill her,” Natasha paced. Maria explained the note that was left for you. Her team went through hours of security footage and found no one out of the ordinary. “I am going to kick her ass.” She stopped pacing and grabbed the back of the chair. Wanda, Natasha, and Yelena sat in a room at SHIELD’s headquarters while Vision took the twins home after much conviction on Wanda’s part. “Why didn’t she tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked Maria.

“I couldn’t, and she told me she would tell you.”

“She’s stubborn, sestra,” Yelena said. “I’ll be there to help kick her ass too. Wait until Mama finds out.” Wanda was ready to have words with you, too. But that anger was pushed down by fear and worry.

“What’s the next steps? How are you going to find her?” Wanda questioned.

“They took her alive,” Steve said. “That means they want something, so they’ll contact us,” It was meant to erasure her. They were lucky they didn’t find your body, but you were being used as a pawn, and Wanda hated that, too. There was a knock on the door, and it opened.

“Boss,” it was Clint. “Patrol officers found the car. Do you want me to take a team to investigate?” Maria nodded.

“Take Coulson and Wilson with you,” Clint saluted and smiled at Wanda as he left.

“We’ll update you as we learn more,” Maria continued. “The best thing you can do is go home.”

“And there has been no word from her parents,” Natasha said. Maria shook her head. “Do you not find that weird? She gets kidnapped, and no one can find them. They have to be involved.”

“I think they are as well, but until the team finds them, I can’t ask what they know,” Maria rubbed her temple. “Off the record, I think they are a piece of shit,” Wanda smiled. “Nat, we are-” Wanda’s phone began to ring, cutting off the agent.

“Sorry,” it was probably Billy or Tommy who was wondering when she would be home. She looked at the unknown number calling her. “I don’t know who this is,” she showed Maria and Steve her phone.

“Go have Darcy start the trace,” Steve said, leaving the room rather quickly. “Put it on speaker, stay calm, and before they make any demands, ask to speak with her,” Wanda nodded. Her hands shook, and she felt her throat tighten. Natasha sat down next to her, grabbing her hand. She answered her phone and placed a call on speaker.

“Hello,” she heard breathing on the other side. “Whose there?”

“Wanda Maximoff,” a man’s voice slowly said. A shiver went down her spine as he said her name. “You go by your maiden name, right? Since your divorce from Vision.” She glanced at Maria. Her face was pinched, her head tilted as if she was trying to figure out who was talking to her. It was unsettling how he knew her.

“Who are you?” The man laughed.

“Ask the SHIELD agent in front of you,” he said. “Who is it? Hill? Fury?” The agent gave her a quick nod.

“Hill,” she answered.

“Alexander Pierce,” Maria said. “I thought kidnapping was beneath you.”

“Desperate times come for desperate measures,” Pierce said. “SHIELD has something I want, and I feel like it’s an easy trade.” Wanda saw Maria’s jaw clench.

“I want to speak with her,” Wanda said. “Prove to us she’s still alive.” Natasha tightened the hold on Wanda’s hand, almost painful.

“Clever girl,” Pierce said. Wanda listened to his footsteps. The sound of a smack and your pained groan shattered Wanda’s already fragile heart. “You have a phone call.”

“W-Wanda?” You questioned. Your voice was soft and rough. It broke the dam. She felt the tears run down her cheeks.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Wanda’s voice shook. “How are you?” You chuckled.

“I’ve been better. I’m sorry I didn’t pick the boys up from school,” you somehow managed to make Wanda laugh.

“You are such an idiot,” she smiled. “I love you.” She had to say it. If she wasn’t going to talk to you again, she wanted that to be clear. She loved you so much.

“I lo-” You let out another pain whimpered and gasped for air. Natasha was surely going to break her hand.

“I will be calling Fury,” Pierce directed it to Maria. “I expect him to answer, or his precious flower will be returned to him in a box.” He hung up, and Natasha released the tight hold on Wanda’s hand. As a heavy silence filled the small conference room, Wanda stared at her phone. Slowly, she looked up and locked eyes with Maria. A part of her wished she hadn’t. She saw anger deep within Maria’s eyes. Wanda expected that emotion, but she saw the fear that froze her down to her core.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Wanda stood in the waiting area. After the phone call, Maria rushed to see if they could trace the call. Her team wasn’t so lucky. She walked into Fury’s office and slammed the door behind her. “Hey,” Natasha knelt in front of her. “Do you and the boys want to stay with us until they find her?” Yelena sat next to her in the empty chair.

“The boss would have our heads if we let anything happen to you,” the blonde teased, nudging her shoulder against Wanda’s. Natasha smiled.

“I like my head,” she smirked. “It’s my money maker.” Yelena scuffed.

“You are so stupid,” Wanda smiled, wiping her cheeks. She stopped crying but she felt the dry tears. Yelena and Natasha were good and she understood why they were such an important part of your life.

“I appreciate it, but-”

“Wands, please,” Natasha cut her off. “It will give me peace of mind knowing the three of you are safe while all this is going on,” How could Wanda say no to that? She hated being a burden, but they were family.

“Okay,” you nodded. “I’ll have to talk to Vision about it.”

“Hell, that funk of metal can join,” Wanda looked at her, tilting her head. Natasha shook her head. “Inside joke between the boss and I.” The redhead smiled sadly. Yelena stood up as Maria walked over to them. Her face was edge in a frown.

“I’m assigning agents to your family,” Maria told Wanda. She knew not to question that.

“Who is Alexander Pierce?” Wanda asked. The question had been burning on her tongue since the phone call ended. Maria placed her hands on her hips and glanced over her shoulder.

“I could get fired or thrown into the RAFT if they find out I told you this. Got it?” Everyone nodded. “A few years back, we learned that SHIELD was infiltrated by a terrorist group called HYDRA. It’s been in the works for years. Pierce used to have Fury’s job, then he was promoted to the secretary of the World Council,” she sighed. “We’ve been working to remove HYDRA, but it’s been slow work.”

“So HYDRA is using Y/n to get something you took from them,” Maria nodded. “Any idea what they want?” Yelena asked.

“Information, maybe a HYDRA agent we arrested,” Maria shrugged. “It could be anything.”

“Maria,” Wanda said slowly. How likely will Fury give them what they want?” Wanda watched the agent’s face whiten, but she shook it off.

“It won’t come to that. We’ll find her before that. " The agent’s choice not to answer her question was enough to convince Wanda how serious this was.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Maria sighed as she watched the trio leave. There was a weight that rested on her chest. Her friend was gone, kidnapped because of her job. The friend in her wanted to burn down the city until she found you and not worry about the consequences. But she was the Deputy Director of an agency under public scrutiny. Everything needed to be done by the book. She turned around, put on her mask to cover her true feelings, and joined her team. “What do we know?” She asked.

“A few months back, a car dealership was robbed, and 3 SUVs were taken,” Sharon said and pulled up pictures of the car Maria recognized from the security footage of your kidnapping. “It was whipped clean, but Darcy is going through it.”

“Tracing the call got us a borough but nothing exact,” Steve said, placing a picture of Staten Island on the screen. “We can increase police activity, but that is a lot of ground to cover.” It was a complete waste of resources. She knew HYDRA was good, but it seemed like they were looking for a specific needle in a mount of needles, which concluded they had nothing. Maria couldn’t say that to her team.

“Alright, Carter. I need you to get your hands on any footage of this van—traffic cameras, ATMs, and pictures from social media. An SUV doesn’t just disappear. Work with Barton and go over the initial robbery now that we know it was HYDRA.”

“On it, boss,” Sharon stood up to grab coffee and head to MTAC. Clint stayed in his seat, but she would get back to him shortly.

“Wilson, Coulson, we need to figure out what they want before they tell us. Go through every arrest we made and our team on the West Coast. Contact Van Dyne if you have any issues,” the two agents nodded and got to work. It was still in the early stages, but the longer you were gone, the less likely you were to be found alive.

“Hill, can we talk?” Clint motioned to the small kitchen. Maria nodded, and the two agents walked over. He started a new pot of coffee, and Maria knew they would need it. “I found something at the dump site.”

“And you chose not to tell the team?” Clint nodded. “Why?”

“Because I don’t think it’s important for the investigation,” he looked over his shoulder and fished a black jewelry box out of his pocket. “I’m guessing you knew about this.” Maria nodded. Of course, she did. You told Natasha that you bought it, and by best friend code, Natasha told Maria before you could tell her. She and Natasha had a bet on when you would ask her. “Like I said, it’s not very important to the investigation.” Maria took the small box and put it in her pocket.

“Thanks, Clint,”

“What are you going to do with it?” She wasn’t 100% sure.

“Keep it safe till we find her,” she smiled. The man nodded and joined the rest of the team. Her gut instinct was telling her to keep it safe so that when you returned, you could ask her, but the situation was complicated. Maria knew you well—not as well as Natasha, but she saw you as a sister. If anything were to happen to you, Maria knew you would want Wanda to have it. For now, it would be safe with her.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Honestly, Wanda was exhausted. She couldn’t imagine how you, Maria, and Natasha were feeling, but she was tired. All she wanted was to curl up in the safety of your bed with your arms around her, but that wasn’t possible.

After she left SHIELD, she drove to her apartment and your house to pack a bag for her and the boys. Now, she sat outside Vision’s house, gathering the energy to go inside. How was she going to tell Tommy and Billy? They were going to be heartbroken.

Sighing, she exited the car and walked to the front door. When she got to Natasha’s house, she needed a tall glass of wine. Wanda rang the doorbell, and Tiffany opened the door with a smile. “Wanda, hi, please come in,” Wanda fought, not to roll her eyes. I am so sorry about Y/n. If there is anything I can do, please let me know,” Wanda nodded.

“Where is Vision?” she asked. The last thing she wanted was to have a heart-to-heart with her ex-husband’s current girlfriend.

“In his office,” Without another word, she walked to the man’s office and knocked on the open door. Her ex-husband looked up from the file he was reading.

“Has there been an update?” She closed the door behind her and walked over to him.

“I received a phone call from the people that took her,” she stated.

“What do they want? If it’s money, I can help,” she shook her head and glanced at the door, ensuring it was closed.

“She’s being used as a bargaining chip. They want something SHIELD has,” Vision looked at her and then at the closed door behind her.

“Is this about HYDRA?” He whispered. Wanda sat down in the empty chair.

“How do you know about HYDRA?” The man glared at her.

“I work for the district attorney,” he deadpanned. “Of course, I know about it,” this time, Wanda did not stop herself from rolling her eyes. She was always amazed at how long she stayed with him. “If HYDRA has her, this is concerning.”

“What have you told the boys?” She asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “I wanted to wait for you. You were always better at breaking tough news to them,” she smiled.

“Natasha asked if I could take them and stay at her house. She offered a place for you, too,” Wanda almost laughed at the surprised look on his face. “Maria is assigning agents to you and us.”

“I don’t need protection,”

“It’s not up for debate, Vision,” Wanda snapped but sighed. “They knew my phone number. They knew I was at SHIELD when they called, so they had people watching. As much as I hate you sometimes,” the man chuckled. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Careful Wands,” he smirked. “People might think you care about me.”

“You are a jackass,” she admitted, but she did care about him. He was a great partner in the beginning, but they grew apart. It happened. He gave her Billy and Tommy. “Let’s go tell the boys. Are they in their room?” He nodded and stood up. They walked to the boy’s room. She had no idea how to tell them. It was her job to protect them, to protect them from the evil in the world. But the evil in the world was after her family, and they had the right to know the truth.

Tommy was playing video games, a game you gifted them, and Billy was reading a book off your bookshelf. You meant the world to them, and Wanda’s heart was breaking. “Hi, Mom,” Billy said. “Do you know where Y/n is?” Tommy paused the game. Wanda sat down next to Tommy, and Vision next to Billy.

“Not yet, son, but the authorities are looking for her.” Tommy frowned.

“Something bad happened, right?” He asked. “She wouldn’t just leave us,” he looked at Billy, who nodded in agreement.

“Yes, something bad happened, but Maria and the SHIELD agents are doing everything possible to bring her home.” Wanda ran her hands through Tommy’s hair and rested it on the middle of his back.

“Why would someone take her?” Tommy asked. “What did she do?” Wanda sighed.

“The world is filled with evil people. Your father has faced some of them with his job. “Sometimes, we may never know the why,” Tommy rested his head on her shoulder, and Billy leaned into his father. It could have been for money or revenge.” The world wasn’t black and white. Wanda knew you were being used as leverage, but if Pierce thought Fury wronged him, it could be seen as revenge, too. Living in Slovakia during a civil war taught her a lot about perspective.

“I want her to come home,” Billy whispered.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“That’s all we have,” Maria gave Fury an update. To put it lightly, the team had nothing, which wasn’t a surprise to Fury. HYDRA went under the radar for years. But he saw the frustration on his agents, especially those close to you. Maria dropped her professional stance and slumped down in the empty chair. “What the hell are we going to do, Nick?” She asked. “SHIELD doesn’t make deals with terrorists, but this is Y/N we are talking about,” Fury was furious with Pierce for using you to get to him. Pierce was his friend, the reason he sat as the director of SHIELD, and he knew how important you were to him.

“We’ll save her and stop Pierce,” was all Fury could offer the agent, whom he ‘adopted’ as well. “Go lead the team and take care of yourself,” she nodded and left his office. The man sighed. There was a crushing weight on top of his chest. He needed a few seconds to be alone.

He wasn’t a sentimental guy. His office had very few personal decorations and kept it that way for a reason: He never wanted anyone to know who he was close to. This provided it. Fury opened up a drawer in his desk and took out a bottle of whiskey. The glass bottle had a lighthouse engraved on it. It was a gift from you when you signed your first deal with your company. The whiskey was gone, but Fury kept the bottle.

He was so proud of you that day, even though he never told you. He hoped he hadn’t missed his chance.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Natasha was pouring a glass of wine for herself and Wanda while the mother of two settled the twins into the guest room. In times like this, Natasha was grateful she got a big house. Other times, it felt lonely. She heard Bucky before he saw him. The contrasting feeling of his arms wrapped around her waist. The woodsy smell of his cologne relaxed her even more. “A little early to be hitting the bottle,” she rolled her eyes at the teasing tone. “How are you, doll?” She was a mess because she could do nothing but wait. Everything was out of her control. She sipped the wine and looked out the window to see the SHIELD agent outside her home.

“When do you think Steve will be home?” She changed the topic of the conversation. She was not in the right headspace to talk about her feelings. Bucky sighed.

“Late. He probably won’t come home until Maria sends him home, or we go get him,” Natasha chuckled. That sounded right. The man was dedicated to his job, and you were the reason the three of them were together.

“Is that for me?” Wanda asked. Wordlessly, Natasha handed the glass to her. She sighed after she took a sip. “What can I make for dinner?”

“You don’t need to cook, Wanda. I was going to order takeout or something,” Wanda bit her lip.

“I need to do something to keep busy, or I’ll go insane. Please,” Natasha knew the feeling. She was two seconds away from going into the office to finish work, but she knew Bucky and Steve would not like that.

“The kitchen is yours, Wanda,” Bucky said. The mother of two gave him a grateful smile before going through the cabinets. Natasha was grateful she recently placed a grocery order. She sat on the island and watched Wanda move around the kitchen. The conversation flowed naturally, and it was meaningless. It was to just fill the silence.

Natasha understood how you fell for her so quickly. Even with the intense situation they all found themselves in, there was a calming presence about her. The Russian remembered the day you met Wanda. She was pissed you were late to the meeting, but her anger melted away when she saw the love-sick look on your face.

At first, she was worried. You recently ended your relationship with Sharon. Sharon wasn’t bad, but she wasn’t the person for you. You seemed to hide parts of yourself that you showed with Wanda.

“Why did you get in trouble?” Wanda asked for the water to boil. She was making a pasta dish, and it smelled amazing. Natasha found it unfair you both were good in the kitchen.

“Because I wouldn’t rat on her,” Natasha laughed. “Fury dragged us both back to the station. Oh, my mother was pissed. I was grounded for three weeks.” It was harder for Melina to punish you since you weren’t technically her kid, but she took away privileges when you were at their house. “Bad boys for life, you know?” Bucky chuckled with a slight shake of his head. He was leaning against the counter.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get into real trouble,” he said. “You are lucky Fury has a soft spot for Y/n.” Natasha rolled her eyes at the man. Fury saved your life. She was grateful for the man. Suddenly, the front door swung up. The sound startled her, and Wanda and Natasha jumped from her seat - the chair fell to the ground with a loud bang.

“James Barnes,” Melina snapped. “But that gun down,” Natasha stared at her parents, heart racing.

“What the fuck is your problem?” She snapped. Bucky put the gun that was hidden under the junk drawer away. She was unaware there was a gun there. “You can’t just barge in here with everything going on.”

“Why not?” Alexei closed the door with his foot, and Natasha cringed at the sound. The man’s hands were full of luggage. “The nice man gave me a badge,” he said, dropping a bag to hold up the lanyards. I feel like I am a secret agent like in American movies.” Natasha groaned but looked at Wanda when she giggled.

“Don’t encourage him,” she said. “It will only make it worse.” Natasha heard the pounding of feet coming down the stairs. Damn, her house was going through it. The twins jumped from the second to the last step.

“We heard yelling,” Tommy said. “And a loud bang.”

“Is everyone okay?” Natasha fixed her fallen chair as the boys walked over to their mother.

“We’re okay,” she said, placing her arms around them as they hugged each other. “Sorry for the scare.” Bucky was helping with the bags and bringing them to the guest suite.

“Meet my parents,” Natasha introduced them. “Alexei, Melina, this is Wanda and her sons, Billy and Tommy. " The twins managed to remove themselves from their mother and wave at the two new additions.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Wanda said with a smile. “I’ve heard great things.”

“We as well,” Melina said, pulling your girlfriend into a hug. Natasha saw the sudden contact, which surprised her. “Now, how can I help?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Once dinner was eaten and the dishes were put away, Natasha watched Bucky add another log to the fire outside. Wanda and the twins were asleep, so Steve, her parents, Yelena, and Kate were left to enjoy the cooler weather. Natasha leaned further into Steve’s warmth. She missed him. Even though she knew he would instead be working, having everyone under the same roof gave her peace of mind. “I wish I could tell you more,” Natasha jumped back into the conversation as Bucky sat beside her—his flesh arm around both of them. “We don’t have anything solid,” Yelena huffed.

“That’s such bullshit,” Yelena said. “You just can’t tell us anything.” Kate squeezed Yelena’s leg. Steve sighed.

“I would about this,” he said. “The car was stolen from a dealership and whipped clean. Coulson and Carter are going through witness statements. It’s still in the early stages,” Natasha sighed and felt Steve’s lips on her forehead. She knew the team was doing everything they could, but still, it was killing her.

“We know you guys are doing your best,” Melina said. “We are just worried.”

“Trust me, I get it. I’ve never seen Maria or Fury this stress before.” Natasha couldn’t imagine the guilt Fury was dealing with.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Maria sent most of the team home. They’ve been racking their brains and staring at screens. Fresh eyes were needed for a case like this. She glanced over her computer to watch Fury work in silence, reviewing classified files that he and Pierce worked on. The man was quiet. To anybody else, they would assume it was normal. But Maria knew the man. The director was worried and ridden with guilt. Hell, he jumped when his phone started to ring. Maria wondered what was going through his head. “Fury,” he answered.

“Nick,” Pierce’s voice sent a deep rage through Maria. She never experienced this type of anger before. “It’s been a long time, old friend,” Fury rested his arms on his desk.

“I think you lost the right to call me friend,” Maria smiled. “Tell me what you want so I can tell you to go fuck yourself,” Pierce tisked.

“You have always been quick to anger,” he said. It was my only worry when appointing you to the director position.” Fury’s jaw clenched. “Say hello, little canary. " It was like a freight train ran over Maria. It had been years since she had heard that nickname.

“Hi, Nick,” you said. Maria watched Fury’s face soften. You were his soft spot. Maria heard the distinct sound of a gun’s safety turning off. “You know I needed a vacation, but this wasn’t what I had in mind.” God, you were an idiot. Only you would try to crack a joke in a severe situation. “Anyways, don’t give in, these no-good, backstabbing, cock eating terrorists,” the sound of someone hitting you and your pained groan caused Fury to flinch.

“Feisty,” Pierce laughed. He must have taken the phone off speaker because the sounds you were making faded. You were trying so hard to be quiet and muffle your screams. “Did you teach her that? You never respected your superiors.”

“What do you want, Pierce?”

“I knew she was the way to break you,” he must have called off your beating because Maria could no longer hear you. “I want Brock Rumlow released, and the tesseract returned to its rightful owner,” Maria’s stomach dropped. The tesseract was a massive power source that could power enhanced weapons.

“We need time,” Fury said, showing no emotion from the news. “Rumlow is a high-profile inmate.” It was purposeful, not to mention the tesseract.

“You have 72 hours to hand over Brock and the tesseract, or your little birdie will have her wings cut off.” Pierce hung up. There was a deafening silence in his office. Then Fury acted quickly. He picked up his phone and threw it against the wall. The device shattered on impact.

“Nick,” Maria said slowly.

“Hill, leave,” but she stayed. “Deputy Director that is an order,” he damned. She was never one to disobey, but she felt frozen, watching the normally calm and collected man fall apart. He closed his one good eye and let out a shaky breath. “Maria, please.” The agent nodded and stood up.

“Take care of yourself, Nick,” she said and left. The door closed behind her, and she leaned against the wooden door. “Dammit,” she whispered. This was bad. Really bad. If Pierce just asked for Rumlow, they could have justified the trade. But they could not get their hands back on the tesseract. World War 3 would be a better fate. “Fucking dammit.” Forgive us, bean. We are so sorry.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You felt the blood dripping down your head, and there was a ringing in your ears. The muffled voices of Pierce hurt your head. Do you think he called for a doctor? Hands grabbed your chin and forced your head up. The sudden movement made you nauseous. “Awe, poor baby,” it was Tiffany.

“How-” you let out a shaky breath. “How did you know about the nickname?” You were a public figure. People were interested in who you were as your company was plastered all over the city. But there were some things you kept private, everything about your parents. Before your first deal, you made them sign NDAs. It was illegal for them to go to the press and try to tear you down.

That nickname, though—you hadn’t heard it in years. Your father called you that. Canaries represented freedom because they are independent spirits. It was a double-edged sword. On one hand, he saw you as extremely independent, but he saw it as disobedience.

Pierce smirked, “We had inside information. Would you like to see it?” You were slow to answer, you were forced to stand, and you were dragged out of the room. Maybe you should have noticed the hallways Pierce’s men dragged you down. But you were struggling to keep your eyes open and the contacts of your stomach in your stomach. There were a few left turns. Maybe a right. The place was massive. Even if you managed to escape the room they kept you in, your wounds kept you from running.

Pierce opened a door, and you were brought into a room with a glass plane on one side. The man flipped a switch, and you saw what was beyond the one-way window. Your parents. They were trapped just like you, but they lacked your injuries.

They looked older from the last time you saw them as the years of drinking and partying finally caught up to them.

“It’s a little sad actually,” Pierce said. You looked at the man, who was staring at your parents. “All we did was offer them some money, and they would not stop talking,” he sighed. “I guess you know where you stand with them. They did try to warn you.” You watched them through the glass. Your father paced the entire perimeter of their room while your mother sat on the mattress. You could tell she was annoyed with him but bit her tongue. There had to be multiple fights between them. Suddenly, Pierce taped on the glass, and the door on the other side opened.

“We told you everything,” your father told the man who walked in and closed the door behind him—a sinking feeling formed in your stomach. “We held up our end of the bargain. Give us our money.”

“Please let us go,” your mother said and stood up. “You don’t have to pay us.” Your father slapped her across the face. She recoiled in pain, but it was a sight you’ve seen so many times. You saw it coming before they did as the man reached behind his back and pulled out a pistol.

“Pierce don-” All it took was two bullets, and their bodies slumped to the ground. People who experience a near-death experience said their life flashed before their eyes. You could say the same when someone witnessed death so closely.

Your parents were not good people. They used and abused you for the better part of your life, but you never wished for their death. You wished for another warm hug from your father as the smell of pine and cigar smoke surrounded you. You wished for another kiss on your cheek from your mother that felt sticky due to the cheap stick she wore. You wanted one more birthday, one more Christmas. One more chance to be a family.

“Y-you,” you stuttered. “You killed them. Why?” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the pool of blood that surrounded their heads.

“Because they were useless to me,” Pierce grabbed your chin and forced your eyes away to look at him. “Do you understand now? I dispose of things that aren’t useful. Understand?” You nodded. “Don’t mourn them,” he dropped his hand. “They never cared about you.”

That was the story everyone told you. They never cared about you. They only cared about your status and money. But once upon a time, you were daddy’s little girl and mommy’s perfect angel. Once upon a time, you were a family. Now that story was over, and their blood pooled on the concrete.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Wanda sipped her coffee as she watched Melina help Billy and Tommy with schoolwork. It was an easy agreement between Vision and her. The boys would be home-schooled until you were home, and the people behind your capture were caught. Even her job let her take time off. There was no way she was in the suitable head space to take orders from customers.

Bucky answered the doorbell and welcomed Maria into the house. “Melina,” the agent said. “It’s been too long.” Wanda watched the two embrace. I didn’t know you were in town.”

“They surprised us last night,” Bucky sighed. “I almost shot them,” he deadpanned. Wanda laughed with a shake of her head.

“So, a typical family gathering,” she patted the veteran on the back. “Is Natasha around? I have an update.” Tommy looked up from his homework, a hopeful look on his face.

“Did you find her?” Tommy asked. Maria looked at the twins with a smile.

“Not yet,” she said. “But we are working hard to bring her home safely.” Tommy deflated at the news. They moved into Natasha’s home office while Kate hung out with Billy and Tommy. “Her captures called last night and made their demands.”

“What do they want?” Yelena asked. Maria sighed.

“The release of an inmate and access to a very powerful weapon,” Wanda’s stomach sank. “He gave us 72 hours.” There was no need for her to say more. Wanda could fill in the blanks on her own.

“How likely is Fury to comply?” Melina questioned. Maria’s silence was enough of an answer.

“Maria, this is Y/n we are talking about. Are you telling me you and Fury are going to let some psychopath kill her?” Maria flinched at the accusation. Wanda watched the moment something inside of Maria snapped; the dam finally broke.

“Do you think I want this? Do you not believe me when I know how much she means to everyone in this room?” She asked. Her voice shook as she tried to keep her voice calm. “If I had it my way, I’d burn this city to the fucking ground to find her. But I know,” she pointed to herself. “What will happen if these fuckers get their hands back on the Tesseract and Rumlow.” She threw her arms to the side. “This isn’t easy for us, Nat. Believe me. I hate that we have to choose between one life and millions.” It was the classic trolley problem. Instead of a bay stander ready to intervene to choose what track to take, it was Fury. But he knew the one person on the track. It was you, someone he considered a daughter. Natasha’s tough exterior crumbled.

“Maria, I-” the agent held her hands to stop her.

“At the end of the day, it’s not our decision. National security is at risk, so we need approval from the World Council,” Maria sighed. “Fury is meeting with them while I’m here.”

“A prison transfer that big is not an easy task,” Melina added.

“Exactly what we told Pierce, but he knows how the system works. So we have time to come up with a plan. Darcy is tracing the phone calls. Hopefully, with two calls from him, it will help narrow the search,” Maria explained. “I need you all to have faith in me. I am doing everything I can to bring her home alive.”

“We do,” Wanda finally said. The agent looked at her. Maria’s fingers grazed her pant pocket, but her hand fell back to her side. It was such a small gesture that everyone missed it except Wanda, who raised her eyebrows in question.

“Wanda, can I speak to you? Alone.” Wanda nodded at Maria’s request and sat down on Natasha’s court. She watched the agent hug the redhead, whisper something, and close the door behind her. Maria sat down with a sigh.

“For what it’s worth,” Wanda spoke softly. “I don’t think she would want you to give them anything if it meant people would get hurt,” Maria chuckled.

“She said something along those lines when Pierce called. It was more like, ‘Don’t give into these no good, backstabbing, cock eating terrorists,’ Maria mimicked your voice so well it caused laughter to bubble out of Wanda. Maria smiled. “God, I want her home so bad.”

“Me too,” Wanda whispered, whipping away a tear running down her cheek. “What did you want to talk about?” Maria tapped her hands against her thighs. Wanda wasn’t going to push. Your friend was going through a lot. Finally, she put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a small black jewelry box. Wanda stared at it, her heart beating so fast she feared it would stop. “I’m flattered, Maria, but I’m spoken for,” it was a knee-jerk reaction to joke about it. Maria rolled her eyes and handed it to her.

“She would want you to have this if something were to happen to her,” she said. Her hands shook as she opened it and stared at the diamond ring. Where did Maria find this? How long have you had it? “Clint found it when he searched the car that was dumped. It must have fallen out of her pocket.”

The ring had a three-diamond stone that was cut in a pear shape. It was simple, but it was an eye-catcher and cost more than she made it a year. Her hands shook as she placed it on her finger. A perfect fit. It was no surprise to her that you knew her ring size. Now, she couldn’t help the tears that escaped her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Maria put her hand on her shoulder to offer support, and then her phone rang. She offered Wanda a smile and answered it.

“Hey Coulson, what do you got?” Wanda whipped the tears out of her eyes. A range of emotions passed through Maria’s eyes: anger, relief, and disbelief. “Yeah, send me the address. I’ll be right there.” She hung up.

“What is it?” Wanda asked. Maria slapped her phone against her hand.

“That was Phil. Patrol officers found two bodies,” the very little food in Wanda’s stomach began to turn. “It’s her parents.”

Delete Created with Sketch.

You weren’t sure how to feel. Everything felt numb, not even when the doctor came to disinfect your wounds; you felt nothing. You weren’t sure if you should feel anger or cry or be relieved that you were free from them. “Oh, come on,” Tiffany pushed herself off the wall and walked behind you. You felt her hands on your shoulder and squeezed them. Her touch burned against your skin. “Why mourn them when it is their fault?” She began to massage your shoulders. “Well, I guess it’s your fault too,” she continued when you stayed quiet. “Their last act of loving parents was to try to warn you,” you remembered Pierce saying the same thing.

“What-what do you mean?” You asked. Finally, she stopped touching you and stood in front of you, tilting your chin up.

“The phone calls,” she said. “If you answered them, they would have told you everything.”

“Who sent the note then?” Your brain was becoming less foggy. Tiffany smiled.

“That was me,” she said. “We were worried if you spoke to them, you would have believed them. The note was to make you believe it was another fabricated lie. Poor baby,” she cooed. “Just a dumb kid desperate for mommy and daddy’s love.” She dropped your head and heard her leave.

You hated this sinking feeling that surrounded you. There was so much guilt, and you hated it. You wanted to go home. You wanted to crawl into bed with Wanda’s arms around you. A few tears fell down your cheek, and a sob echoed in your chest. It felt good to finally cry.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

At this point in her career, Maria never visited crime scenes. She trusted her agents to follow protocol and report back to her. Still seeing the bodies of those that were killed due to the evilness in the world made Maria’s stomach twist into knots. Now, she was going to see the bodies of people she knew. That wasn’t going to be easy. Sighing, she stepped out of the safety of her car and onto the busy city sidewalk.

It was packed with reporters and regular citizens who hoped to get a glimpse of the action. Maria could never understand the public’s fascination with crime and death. Ignoring the questions from the reporters, she ducked under the yellow tap that the patrol officer held up for her. Phil met her, and once they were out of earshot from the crowd, he sighed. “Their fingerprints identified them, but we are waiting for you to make a positive ID.” Maria nodded.

“Any witnesses?” She asked.

“Two joggers found the bodies,” he pointed to where Sharon was talking to them. I’m having Wilson pull the camera footage, and Barton is talking to shop owners.” That’s good. Hopefully, someone saw something and wasn’t scared to say anything. They were in a populated part of the city—a perfect spot for joggers and tourists. It was a risky spot to dump two bodies. Someone had to see something.

Maria pulled on a pair of gloves from her pocket. Steve is taking pictures of the crime scene. “Shit,” Maria whispered when she got closer. It was them. A single gunshot to the forehead was the most likely the cause of death, but Strange would confirm it through the autopsy. “I never thought they’d die. They seemed immortal.”

“No sign of a struggle,” Steve said. Maria held up your father’s hand and saw no bruising. She held it while Steve took a picture. Their bodies were placed next to each other, arms at their side, and their hands were almost touching. Even after death, they were handled with care.

Shit. How was she going to tell you? Maria stood up and ignored the ache in her bones. She was getting too old for this. “Bag and tag everything,” she took off her gloves. “A clue has to be here to find what happened to them.”

“Sounds good, boss. " She took her phone out of her pocket and called Fury on her way to the car. He answered as soon as she was in the car.

“It’s them,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Single gunshot to the forehead. No defense wounds. Do you think it was Pierce?”

“Maybe,” he sighed. “He had someone else pull the trigger. There is no way he did it himself.”

“I understand killing them if they were no longer needed, but why dump their body in a public area? It’s like he wanted us to find them,” she leaned back in her seat, resting her free hand on the steering wheels.

“I think he wanted us too,” Fury said after a silence. “A reminder that anyone can be removed once they aren’t useful.” Great. Wonderful.

“The team is finishing up here. I’ll call the Romanoffs and have them meet me at headquarters.”

“Understood. See you soon,” Maria hung up and threw her phone into the passenger seat. She had to keep reminding herself that you were still useful, still a pawn in all of this, so Pierce wouldn’t kill you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“How’s dad?” Billy asked Tommy as he returned from the kitchen with two sports drinks. Tommy handed one to Billy and sat down. The game started up again.

“He’s okay,” Tommy answered. “He seems a little lonely. I told him he could come over, but he doesn’t want anyone to feel awkward.” Billy sighed. Natasha’s house was anything but lonely except for right now. Natasha, Melina, and Alexei had to go to SHIELD headquarters; they wouldn’t tell them why. Mom was taking a nap; Billy wasn’t blind to her cheeks being blotchy. Yelena was running your company, and Kate, sitting with them, left to take a business call. “Is Tiffany not at the house?” Tommy shook his head.

“I guess he hasn’t seen her since Mom told us what’s going on,” Tommy said. That was two days ago. “She texted him saying he’s caught up at work or something,” Billy frowned.

“It’s a little weird. Y/n gets kidnapped, and Tiffany low-key disappears.” Tommy was quiet but tilted his head. “And we did overhear her speaking on the phone in German. I don’t even know she spoke another language,” Tommy nodded.

“Oh yeah, I remember that. She bribed us with foot-long chocolate bars to keep it a secret,” Tommy suddenly paused the game. “Do you think Tiffany works for the people involved in the kidnapping?” Billy looked around; there was still no sign of Kate or Yelena. He stood up and grabbed Kate’s laptop; the Bishop Security logo moved across the screen.

“It wouldn’t hurt to do our investigation,” a smile grew on Tommy’s face.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my goody two-shoes brother?” Billy rolled his eyes.

“Shut up and help me,”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Yelena was hanging on by a thread. With you gone and Natasha processing your kidnapping poorly, the business fell to her. On any other day, she would have jumped for joy at getting this opportunity, but she was tired. The world continued to move even when Yelena wished it would. So when Tony called to give an update on production, she had to take it. “So Blondie, how are you? You holding everyone else together like you are with the company.” Yelena smirked and ignored the annoying nickname.

“Trying,” she sighed. “I had to watch Natasha flip on Maria.”

“I would have paid money to see that,” the man was such a playboy, even with a wife and daughter. “Any updates on the case?” Yelena closed her laptop. Only a select few outside those closest to you knew the truth. It was Monica’s job to spin the story with the press.

“They made their demands last night,” Yelena told him. I guess they want an inmate released and something called the tesseract.” Tony let out a long hiss and then got quiet. It was always odd when the man was quiet.

“Did you say tesseract?”

“Yes, why?” Yelena leaned back in her sister’s chair.

“I never thought I’d hear that again,” Tony sighed. “Loki and Thor found it in New Asgard. They called SHIELD because of how powerful it is. SHIELD called my team to run an analysis on it, but before we could get onto the plan, they called us off and told me they had a closer team,” Yelena frowned. “A year or two go by, and I get another call from them to look at it.” I know what will happen if they get their hands back the tesseract and Rumlow, as Maria said. Yelena could guess HYDRA stole it, and SHIELD got it back and captured Rumlow in the process. Now, you were a pawn in this massive chess game, a piece everyone sacrifices without hesitation.

“How powerful is it?” Yelena asked. “Be honest with me, Stark.” Again, Tony sighed, and she heard his own chair lean back.

“If it were to fall into the wrong hands, WWIII would be the end of all war,” he said. His tone sent a shiver down Yelena’s spine. “There won’t be an Earth to live on after.” Yeah, Yelena got the picture.

“Thanks Stark. Sorry, I asked,” the man chuckled.

“Keep me updated, Blondie.”

“And I told you to stop calling me that,” she hung up the phone but still heard his laughter. “Osel (jackass),” Yelena rubbed her temples. Shit. This was bad. Really, bad, and she understood why SHIELD was so hesitant to hand it over just to save you. Sighing, she stood up from Natasha’s desk and walked out of the office back to the living room. She heard the twins arguing before she saw them

“Tommy, let go!” Billy said. “You are going to break it.”

“You let go! You said you needed my help, and clearly, you don’t know what you are doing. " She rounded the corner and watched them fight over a laptop that belonged to her girlfriend. She saw the stickers on the top.

“What are you doing?” They jumped and dropped the laptop. Luckily, Tommy’s reflexes were fast, and he caught it before it hit the ground.

“We weren’t doing anything,” Billy smiled. Yelena narrowed her eyes and closed the distance. She held out her hand, and Tommy gave her the laptop. “If we tell the truth, how much trouble will we get in?”

“Depending on the reasoning for almost breaking Kate’s laptop,” the twins cringed, and Yelena heard Kate’s footsteps.

“What’s with all the yelling? And why are you holding my laptop?” Yelena gave it back to her.

“I was just about to find out,” Billy sighed.

“We want to help SHIELD find Y/n,” he admitted. Yelena’s tough exterior softened, and she sat beside the boy. “We had a theory and tried to use Bishop Securities to help.” Yelena sighed.

“I get you want to help,” the blonde said. “But why didn’t you tell us or another adult?” Tommy groaned and fell back onto the couch, his hands covering his face.

“Because you guys don’t tell us anything, why should we tell you?” It was a fair question. Yelena knew it was to protect them. They cared a lot about you, and it must be hard to always be in the dark. Kate sat next to Tommy.

“Tell us what you are thinking, and I can show you how to do it,” the brothers said, looking at each other in silence. Tommy nodded.

“We think our dad’s girlfriend is working with the people that took Y/n,” Yelena had to be honest; she was not expecting that. She knew they weren’t fond of her, but accusing her of being a terrorist was a little extreme. “Look, I know it sounds crazy-”

“It does,” Kate cut him off.

“But we have evidence,” Billy continued. “Our dad said she hasn’t been around a lot and is always at the house. Isn’t it weird that at the same time, something happens to Y/n, and Tiffany disappears?” It was weird but hardly evidence.

“And we overheard her talking in German on the phone,” Again noting that scream, ‘I’m part of a terrorist group hellbent on starting WWIII,’ “She bride us with chocolate bars not to tell anyone about it,” Even Yelena thought it was weird.

“You know,” Kate said slowly. “It wouldn’t hurt to look at all possible leads.”

“Even if it’s extremely illegal,” Yelena countered.

“It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught,” Kate smiled and opened her laptop. Yelena watched her girlfriend pull up the Bishop Security system. “Alright, what am I looking for?” She looked between the three of them. When no one answered, Yelena sighed. She was against this idea because Kate could get in trouble, but everyone was desperate for answers.

“Maria thinks the ransom note was dropped off on Tuesday,” Yelena said. “See if Tiffany was near the office on that day.” Kate nodded and typed away. The silence was tense. Finally, she moved the laptop to show the screen.

“Looks like Tiffany picked you guys up that day,” Sure enough, Tiffany walked into the office, and when she left, the twins were with her. She had no bag with her to hide the note.

“If she’s involved, she wouldn’t drop it off; it would be suspicious,” Billy said. “Can your system do a wider search? See if she met with anyone before picking us up.” Yelena and Kate looked at each other rather than at Billy. “Why? I read a lot of mystery books,” he shrugged.

“Nerd,” Tommy mumbled. Kate turned her laptop around again and began to search. It took longer than the first time, but Yelena caught it when Kate found something. Her eyebrows pinched together. It happened when she was working on something she didn’t understand. “What is it?” Slowly, Kate turned her laptop again.

The screen showed Tiffany meeting with a food delivery boy in an alley. Yelena recognized the logo as a regular spot from which the office ordered. There was no audio, but clear as day, Tiffany handed the man an envelope. She wore gloves so her fingerprints wouldn’t be on it. The man took it along with the stack of cash.

“Well,” Kate said. “That’s suspicious.”

“We were right,” Billy spoke slowly, trying to understand it.

“We were right,” Tommy repeated after his brother. “We were right!” They jumped up and down, chanting, ‘We were right.’ “Ooo,” Tommy cringed suddenly. “I don’t like that we were right.” Yelena chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“What is going on?” Wanda asked, walking down the stairs. The noise must have woke her up.

“Mom!” Billy yelled and ran over to her. He crashed into her and almost sent her flying back. “Get dressed! Get dressed! We have to hurry and go to SHIELD. We found information for the case!” Billy was shaking his mother from excitement.

“Billy-” Wanda sighed.

“It’s true,” Yelena stood up from the couch. The woman looked at Yelena, confused. Hell, Yelena was lost herself. Just moments ago, Maria was here and told them they had no leads. “I also would call Vision and tell him to meet us there. This may get messy.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Natasha was stuck on how to feel. On the one hand, you were free from the claws your parents had within you. On the other hand, your parents were murdered, and she was worried about how you would take that. No matter how often they hurt you, you were desperate for their love. She sat at Maria’s desk while she waited for Alexei and Melina. Legally, you were emancipated, but Alexei and Melina were listed as your emergency contacts on everything. Maria was going over the process of how to release your parents’ bodies.

The pictures on her friend’s desk were limited, but they were of important moments. One was at Maria’s graduation at the academy; you and Natasha were on either side of her. Another one was at the grand opening of your new company building. The picture was taken two seconds before Yelena sprayed the three of you with a bottle of champagne. It seemed the three of you were attached at the hip. Always helping one another, always celebrating with each other.

She glanced at her side to see Fury sit down next to her. “Are you here to yell at me too?” Natasha asked. Melina gave her a stern talk about how she spoke to Maria. She had enough quilt about it. The man shook his head. That was a relief. “How are you, Nick?” She asked him. Fury took the picture of you, Maria, Natasha, and Yelena in his hand. It was after you, Natasha, and Yelena signed a massive deal for the company. Maria took you all out to dinner and drinks after.

“Ready for all of this to be over,” Natasha learned early on that every word the man said was purposeful. He made sure not to mention you because he wasn’t sure how this would end. Natasha heard the distinct sound of her parents walking over to her. They tried to mask their true feelings, but their eyes gave them away. It was common for her family. No matter how much they tried to mask, it was impossible to hide. They were upset. Even though they hated what you had to endure at the hands of your parents, life was still lost.

“Ready to go home?” Melina asked. Natasha nodded. She was tired, but she had work to do. Yelena was meeting with Tony, and she needed to get an update on how that went.

Natasha stood up and pulled Maria into another hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know I hurt you.” She felt Maria exhale slowly and pat her on the back.

“It’s okay,” it wasn’t, but Natasha knew Maria was dealing with a lot. She offered her friend one final squeeze and let her go. Her family took a few steps towards the door, accommodated by Maria, when Natasha heard running approaching them.

“I found her!” Darcy exclaimed. A simple three-word sentence made Natasha’s stomach flip. “I found her!” The scientist repeated and pushed a file into Maria’s hand. “When Strange was preparing the bodies, he found a clear and sticky substance on their forearms,” she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. “I ran it through the mass spectrometer and got a hit,” she opened the file for Maria. “It’s called Cronium, a compound that absorbs and stores kinetic energy. Honestly, it’s amazing stuff-”

“The point?” Maria cut her off before a tangent could form.

“Right, sorry,” she began to smile. “This substance was produced in one factory that happened to be shut down in Staten Island. It’s called-”

“Nova Forge Industries,” Natasha gave herself whiplash on how fast she turned towards the sound of Kate’s voice. She was standing there with her Bishop Security laptop and wasn’t alone. Yelena, Wanda, the twins, and Vision were running to catch up with her. What was happening?

“Yes,” Darcy titled her head slightly. “How did you know that?”

“We found her too,” Natasha said, sure her heart was going to combust with how fast it was beating. “Do you have somewhere I can plug this in, too?” She smiled and held up her laptop. “You guys aren’t going to believe this.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Kate was right. Wanda couldn’t believe it, and neither could everyone else as she explained what she had found. With her and the twin’s help, the missing piece of the puzzle was found, and Wanda saw hope in Maria’s eyes. It was a whirlwind around Wanda as Maria called the agents to assemble a plan and gather a team where you held. Somehow, in the chaos, she found Vision sitting by himself. Wanda sighed and sat next to him. “You know I was planning on breaking it off,” he glanced at Wanda, then looked forward. “I know the boys, and you never liked her.” Wanda smiled sadly.

“Why did you stay with her then?” Vision sighed.

“It felt less lonely with her, especially when the boys were with you.” The man shrugged. “I approach you for advocating for me,” Wanda knew Vision wasn’t involved in this mess when Maria started to question him. Even if he hated you, the boys loved you too much for him to get involved in a plot to cause you harm.

“I think you’ve been through enough. If I could help you avoid an interrogation with a pissed-off Fury, I’ll play my part,” the man laughed as the twins walked over. They looked guilty. Wanda found them looking like this if they got in trouble at school or broke something in the house. “What’s wrong, boys?” Without a word, they hugged Vision. Their father wasn’t expecting the sudden hug, but Wanda watched the man sag in relief against them.

“We’re sorry, Dad,” Billy mumbled. Vision ended the hug to look at them.

“Why are you apologizing?” He asked.

“Because of us, Tiffany is going to be in a lot of trouble,” Tommy added. Wanda’s heart broke for them. They expected Vision to be mad at them.

“Oh, boys. We all would have found out sooner rather than later,” they still looked upset. “But I am so proud of you,” their faces lit up.

“You are?” Billy questioned.

“Of course I am!” He grabbed onto their forearms. “You both played an important part in the investigation and because of your intuition, they will bring her home.” Tommy looked at Wanda for confirmation. His eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

“She’s coming home?” Wanda nodded and took his hand.

“Yes, baby,” she smiled. “She’s coming home.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was the door almost flying off the hinges that forced you awake. It was hard to sleep in a chair you were chained to. Pierce was seething. His face was red, and smoke was coming out of his ears. “Tell her,” he said. More people filed into the room behind her. “Tell her what you told me.” Sleep still fogged your brain, but you made out Fury’s voice on the other end of the phone.

“Deal is off, Pierce. SHIELD does not negotiate with terrorists,” Good, you thought. You couldn’t imagine the lives lost if they complied. You hoped Wanda and Natasha could forgive them one day.

“I’ll kill her,” Pierce threatened. “Her head will show up at your front door.”

“I know,” Fury said. You heard the slight hitch in his voice. “And I hope she can forgive me. Maybe in the next life, we’ll meet at the lighthouse.” You kept your face calm even when your heart skipped.

“I’ll be waiting, Nick,” you whispered. Pierce hung up before he could respond. Suddenly, you were lifted from the chair and suspended in the air by chains.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Pierce laughed. The lighthouse wasn’t a real place. It was a code word you and Fury made up. If you ever felt unsafe or needed to leave somewhere, you would text him lighthouse, and he would come. Only you and him knew the meaning behind the word. He was coming to save you. SHIELD knew where you were -all you had to do was survive

You felt the first hit to your ribs, then the second and the third. When the fourth hit came, you felt nothing. You dissociated, a trick you hadn’t done in years. When you were younger, your parents fought, and you hid away in your room. You were small for your age, so you’d hide underneath your bed and dream and float away. When you came back, the fight was over, and you’d climb out like nothing happened.

Float away. Float away. Dream and float away.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Faster, faster,” Tommy’s cheers made you run faster. Even though Wanda was going to yell at you for it being dangerous, you had a hard time saying no to the twins. You said yes right away when Tommy begged you to take him outside to play in the snow. You fished out the slid from storage and tied a robe to it. You pulled Tommy up and down the hill, and you were exhausted, but the sound of his laughter fueled you with energy.

“Children,” you stopped at the sound of Wanda’s voice. “Lunch is ready, and there is a hot chocolate.” Tommy jumped off the slide behind you. Wanda pushed her son away before he could get wet from the snow. You chuckled at their antics and walked over to your fiance.

“Do I get a kiss?” You asked, standing in front of her.

“Do you promise me you won’t get me wet?” You smirked at her but kept the suggestive comment to yourself. You had guests within hearing distance. Wordless, you nodded and quickly kissed her. Her lips were warm against yours. “You are cold,” she shivered. “Go get warm.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you kissed her again and untied your boots to enter the cabin. The cabin was busy. A fire was roaring, and Christmas music was lightly playing. Billy was showing off his new game to Shuri and Kate. Natasha and Yelena were at the bar making Holiday cocktails - you knew it was terrible for them to make the drinks. Melina was in the kitchen, and you were pretty sure Alexei was with Steve and Bucky out front to see who could cut firewood the fastest. It was already so busy, but more people were on their way.

You quickly changed out of your winter clothes and hung them up to dry. Wanda yelled at you yesterday for leaving them on the ground. You were fixing your sweater while you exited your bedroom when a body ran into you. “There she is!” Maria lifted you by the waist and spun you around. “Can’t believe you finally grew a pair and got down on one knee.” Finally, she put you down, and you punched her in the stomach.

“You’re a dick,” you said and ignored her groan in pain. Natasha walked over to you and forced a drink in your hand.

“Don’t be a stick in the mud,” she squeezed your cheek. “We are celebrating you.” You groaned and pushed them away to find Wanda. She was in the kitchen with Pepper. You wrapped your arms around her and pulled you flush to your chest.

“Tasha and Ria are being mean to me,” you mumbled. Wanda looked over her shoulder with a fond smile on her face.

“My poor baby,” she cooed. “Do you want me to yell at them?” You nodded and buried your face in the crook of her neck. You stayed attached to her back while she finished her conversation with Pepper. You only let her go when she forced a plate into your hand.

You sat next to Fury, who was sipping on a small glass of whiskey. “It feels like old times,” you said to the man. “With everyone together.” The man nodded. You took a few bites of food but stopped and looked at him. “This is real, right, or is this all in my head?” Fury gave you a half smile.

“Not sure why it can’t be both,” you frowned at him, unsure what he meant. “This is all you want, right, kid? Your family together,” you nodded. “Then maybe this is a future you haven’t seen yet.”

“And I will see all of this one day,” the man shrugged and finished his drink.

“I guess that depends on you,” he stood up and fixed his coat. Are you strong enough to wait for us?” He left alone. Everything began to slow down and blur. Your family moved around you, but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were strong. You could withstand anything if it meant seeing them all again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Soft hands cradled your face, and you repeatedly heard someone call your name. Your eyes fluttered open. “Ria,” you whispered. Your friend laughed, eyes glossing over with tears.

“Good, Pierce didn’t kill you before I got a chance to slap you around,” you saw Steve come in with metal cutters. Once he cut the metal chains, you fell into Maria. “To be fair, you have a list of people that are pissed at you.”

“Unbelievable,” you scuffed. “I get kidnapped, and people are mad at me.” You felt Maria’s lips on your forehead.

“Let’s get you home, bean.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You heard movement next to you that caused you to wake up. Opening your eyes, it took a minute for your brain to connect the dots. They found you. You were safe in what looked like to be in a hospital with a SHIELD agent standing outside your door. “Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to wake you,” you turned your head to see Fury sitting next to you. “I figured this would be my only time to see you before the room was filled.” You smiled.

“I’m a popular girl; what can I say?” The man rolled his good eye at you. “You found me, pops,” you whispered, taking his hand. “I knew you would.” Fury shook his head.

“It’s my fault you were dragged into this mess.”

“You were doing your job, Nick. I would never be angry at you for that,” it was bad luck mixed with how greedy your parents were. “Pierce had my parents killed.” The man nodded.

“We found their bodies. One of the ways we found you,” he gave you a pained smile. “I am sorry,” you shrugged, unsure how to feel about their death. All the people in your life hated them. You knew the man next to you had strong feelings for them.

“It feels like I mourned their death years ago,” you admitted. “But watching it happen in front of me,” you sighed. “Fucking sucks.” Fury chuckled.

“Frankly, your parents were,” he paused. “Complicated people,” you chuckled and shook your head. “But as someone who has witnessed the death of people they care about. I wish you hadn’t seen that.” You fought back the tears and cleared your throat.

“It gets better, right?” You asked even though you were afraid of the answer. Fury nodded.

“Surround yourself with good people, and you’ve already done that, so that is half the battle,” he said, standing up and, to your surprise, kissing the side of your head. “I am so proud of you, kid.”

When you woke up again, Fury was gone, and Wanda was in the chair he was in. Your hand was in hers, and your eyes locked in on the ring on her finger. The ring you bought must have fallen out of our pocket when Pierce’s guys grabbed you. It slipped your mind that you had it when you went to pick up the twins. “This is not how I wanted to ask you,” she jumped from your voice. “I wanted it to be special, this grand gesture with the boys.” She laughed and squeezed your hand.

“How often do I tell you I don’t want big gestures or fancy gifts? I only want you,” she said. She chose you, not the money or the privilege that came with your job—just you.

“You’ll probably have to remind me a few times,” you smiled. Her green eyes, which you loved so much, began to fill with tears, and her lips started to shake. “Come here, baby,” she stood up from her chair and cradled your face. Her eyes scanned over your injuries. You felt her tears on your skin. “Baby, I’m okay. I’m okay,” you put your hand behind her head and pushed it to your shoulder. “Sh, it’s okay. I’m right here,” you felt her nod. “I’m right here,” you cooed over her quiet cries, and then you heard her mumble something. “What was that?” She pulled away to look at you, sitting in the corner of the bed.

“Ask me,” it took a moment to figure out what she meant, but you smiled.

“I love you, Wanda Maximoff. You are the love of my life and the best thing to ever happen to me,” more tears started to fall down her cheeks. “I can not imagine a world without you, Billy, and Tommy not in it. So, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Yes, yes!” She connected your lips together. This kiss was salty from her tears, but you missed the feeling of her lips against yours. You desperately wanted to deepen the kiss, but you were recovering from your injuries and in a hospital. Someone cleared their throat, and Wanda pulled away. She giggled at the pout on your face.

“I apologize for interrupting,” of course, it was Vision being a cock block. He smirked at the two of you. “But I have two kids that want to see you,” you smiled, and Wanda sat down, her hand still tight in yours.

“Yeah, they can come in.” Vision took a step to the side and the twins came running to your free side. They spoke a million miles a minute, even when Wanda told them to take deep breaths. But they were so excited to see you, you didn’t care you couldn’t understand them. You were grateful you were able to see them again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were a little tired. The ceremony was over, you danced with Wanda, Alexei, and Fury, and now your guests enjoyed the food and music. You sat at the sweetheart’s table while looking around the area. Clint’s kids were dancing with Alexei, Tommy and Billy were helping Morgan get food, and even Vision talked with Carol. This group was your family- this crazy, chaotic bunch. You smiled as Natasha tried to stop Yelena from getting more alcohol. You almost missed this; it was nearly taken from you.

Your time with HYDRA happened two years ago. In those years, you overcame the physical injuries, struggled with the mental ones, and took your company to new heights. Wanda quit her job at the diner and moved into your house. You even promoted Yelena to co-CEO. Everyone spoke highly about her when everything was going on. So you had more time to spend with Wanda and the twins. Life was going good. “Where’s the new wife?” Melina asked, taking her spot.

“Changing,” you sipped on your drink. Maria and Kate helped her get out of her dress and into a jumpsuit. “Are you enjoying the day?” The woman rolled her eyes.

“I feel as if I should be asking you that,” you chuckled and took another sip. You weren’t 100% sure what was in it, as Natasha made it. “Are you having a good day?” You nodded.

“I am,” you answered simply, and she waited for you to continue. “I’m just taking all this in,” you smiled at her. “All of this was almost taken from me.” Melina nodded.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Of course, you remembered. It was your father’s weekend per the custody agreement. The man was drunk on the couch, and you snuck out of the house. In your defense, you thought the house was empty. You’ve been watching it all day; no one left or entered. You were bored, so you climbed over their fence and opened the window to their living room. You weren’t expecting to come face to face with a hunting rifle and a woman holding it.

You thought she was going to kill you or, worse, call the cops and have you arrested. Oddly enough, she put the gun down and offered you food. It was a warm meal you ate all week. You devoured it, and your neighbor thought you were going to choke. After you finished, she let you leave out the front door, and if you needed anything, you could come to her door and not the window.

The next weekend, you were at your father’s; you spent it with the Romanoffs instead. It was the happiest you’ve been. “I told Wanda that story, and she said she was surprised you didn’t shoot me,” the woman chuckled.

“I was surprised you dared to break into my home,” you smiled. You weren’t going to take anything. At your age, you liked to do stupid things to prove that you could do it. The woman took your hand. “You have done a lot of growing, but you will always be my little petard (firecracker). You found your family. I am so proud.”

“I always had a family—you, Alexei, Natasha, and Yelena. It just got a little bigger because of you. " You could never thank them enough. You paid off their house, got rid of Yelena’s student debt, and bought Alexei and Melina a new car. Still, it never felt like enough. “Thank you, mama.”

Your wedding wasn’t traditional. Wanda walked down the aisle, and the twins handed her off before taking their seat next to Vision. Alexei and Melina walked you down. Fury married you and Wanda. Melina smiled and kissed your cheek. You heard footsteps walking over to you. “Hi, Melina,” Wanda said. Oh, please keep sitting,” she added as the woman stood up from her spot.

“It is fine,” Melina smiled. “I have to remind Alexei that there is a drink limit.” You tilt your head to the side and look at Wanda.

“We didn’t put a drink limit,” you said.

“He has one, and I set it,” you laughed as Melina walked over to Wanda. She gave her a hug and whispered something in her ear. Your wife nodded, and Melina kissed her cheek and walked over to Alexei. Wanda sat back down in her seat, and you immediately kissed her.

“I missed you,” you mumbled against her lips. Wanda laughed and shook her head.

“I was gone for more than 10 minutes,” you pouted.

“So sorry I missed my wife,” her cheeks blushed. Wanda was your wife. You’d never get tired of calling her that. “What did Melina say to you?” She took your drink and sipped on it.

“That’s disgusting,” she cringed. “Natasha made that for you, didn’t she?” you nodded and smiled when you took another sip. “I guess I’ll have to thank her later,” she winked at you, and it was your turn for your body to heat up. You pinched her side. “Melina told me to make sure I keep your heart good,” you glanced at the woman who smiled at you. You took Wanda’s hand and kissed the ring on her finger.

“I love you,” you said. “You are one of the reasons my heart is good and why I want to keep it good.”

“You are,” Wanda paused, and you waited for her to gather her words. Unbelievable. I thank my lucky stars that I ran into you at the coffee shop. " You laughed and kissed the ring again. Footsteps rapidly ran over to the table.

“You promised you’d play a round of corn hole with us,” Tommy said. You playfully rolled your eyes.

“We have to play before you get too drunk!” Billy added on with a smile. Your jaw dropped, and Wanda covered your mouth as she laughed.

“Who says I’m getting drunk?” Billy rolled his eyes.

“1, it’s your wedding.”

“And 2,” Tommy wrapped his arms around your neck. “We saw Natasha make that drink. I’ll be surprised if you’ll be standing when you are done with it.” His laughter hurt your ears, but it was a sound you loved.

“You little shit,” you said and stood up. You were able to maneuver Tommy onto your shoulder. The boys’ laughter continued as you walked over to the small area where you had lawn games.

“Dad claimed you to be on his team, which I find very unfair,” you dropped Tommy back onto his feet. He shook his head.

“We’ll take turns,” you ruffled Tommy’s hair, and he ran over to Vision. Billy stood by your side. “Are you having fun so far?” you asked him. He nodded, but you saw that he was in deep thought. “What is it, bud?” Suddenly, his body slammed into yours for a hug.

“I’m glad you are part of our family,” he whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, and Billy ran to the empty corn hold board. Once upon a time, you dreamed of a family like this. Now you had it, and you would not let it go.