#X 3800

[savanir]

DP x DC ficlet

is it even a ficlet anymore, this thing has gotten incredibly out of hand...

So a while back I saw this

and I picked the Green Lantern one and then just kinda wrote a full fic so...

It had been a good party, official yes but despite that still festive enough and with just a bittersweet hint. as all good meaningful parties should be like, unless you’re looking to get absolutely shitfaced.

But hey Rowan deserved a proper sendoff for making it to this point and not dying in the process. Hal is going to miss the old pilot though.

"Hal, I got something for you, before I forget"

"Hm, what is it"

The old man puts a small intricate glass model of a f16 fighter in his hand.

"Back when I started I was given this for good luck and protection"

Rowan presses it down firmly and stands there all official like "may it grant you both as it did for me"

They both stand there for a second before laughing.

“Feel free to shelf the whole luck thing, what’s really important is skill and experience. Still, knowing you, you can definitely use the protection ”

Hal grins, "Thanks, I'll keep close"

"You better, the sentimental value is sky high" Rowan slaps his shoulder with another laugh.

Good lord what a dork.

The old retiring pilot wasn't paying attention, too caught up in everything else but Hal saw the faint and brief green hue coming from his hand.

In a panic he slammed his other hand over top. Completely missing the quietly whispered "protect"

Too busy cussing out his ring in his head, he swears that thing is trying to out him on purpose sometimes.

This time it wasn't the ring though, so it's a good thing it's an inanimate object and can't be upset at how wrong Hal is being right now.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah! Let's get back to the others"

The evening ends uneventfully.

---

It's really only until quite a bit later that things start to happen.

"Green lantern" its batman's business voice.

Both Hal and John look up.

"Jordan" ah shit.

"I'll catch you up later" and he leaves Hal behind, traitor.

"What's up spooky"

"You need to update your file, it is missing critical information, and on that note I wasn’t aware that the lantern suits grant you intangibility now"

"I... what..? It doesn't? What are you talking about spooks"

"Hrn" Batman pulls up a screen and shows him footage of the latest fight, in it you can clearly see something was supposed to hit Hal but went right through him "You're telling me you didn't know or notice this?"

Hal just looks kinda sick. That would have been a bad hit and he just straight up didn't even notice.

Batman just kind of silently looks at him and he must have come to some conclusion because the next thing Hal knows this comes out of his mouth.

"I've already ran your blood through the lab, it's not a sudden emergence of a meta gene so it's either from the lantern corps or you've otherwise externally been affected by something that's causing this"

Hal closes his eyes and internally counts to ten, it doesn't help.

Batman takes his silence to mean he can keep talking. The man is on an unusual roll. Hal would have been ecstatic if he didn't hate the topic quite so much.

"It would have been best if it had something to do with your ring however you seem to be completely unaware and I've also noted that the green of your ring and the green glow that comes with the density shifting are different"

He has examples with corresponding color codes, Hal is so tired.

“let's set a time frame…” Batman pulls up some documents and graph on the screen “seeing as you are unaware of this development I will set the starting point of this potential change as of now to right after the last time you have been known to be hit in a fight and before the first known instance of you being able to density shift, that leaves us with a full month.”

Hal really, really does not want to be here anymore.

“In this month you have not gone off planet so whatever caused this is on Earth” Batman pauses for a moment, “has anything significant happened during that time that springs to mind now?”

“no, nothing significant has happened during that time, frankly it’s been a very pleasant uneventful four weeks in which I finally managed to catch a break and it figures something crazy has apparently happened anyway”

Hal rubs his face with both hands, “but right now I couldn’t tell you what, anyway, does this have to be a bad thing? I for one am very glad that hit didn’t actually land”

“So far only Superman has had the privilege of having sudden emergence of new powers work out for him” Batman huffs, “it would be best to monitor this carefully, if anything springs to mind do not hesitate to inform me, the sooner this is figured out the better”

“awww you do care” Hal is using humor cope, sadly it’s Batman, so it’s not very effective.

“Jordan” now Batman sounds tired, he’s not the one with random surprise density shifting, Hal understand that Spooky’s crippling chronic paranoia must be exhausting but right now he’s the one freaking out considering this is apparently not a meta gene related development, it would have been so much easier if it was, oh and about that, just how and when did Batman get his blood exactly? he would like to know now.

---

sadly he does not get to know now. or anytime soon (or ever). it’s chaos right after, because of course it is.

knocked out of the sky and lying amongst the rubble, if their enemy spots him he’s in bigger shit than he already is, but he can’t fucking move and the next thing he knows he’s invisible.

and there is just nothing enjoyable about it.

Barry doesn’t know that though, “that was something else, just one moment and schwup and you were just gone, some sort of green lantern light bending? he looked right through you, thank god he did too” 

shit shit, “no that was..." it was like he just ceased to exist, movies and books and whatever other media always depicts it as such a cool thing but frankly it was terrifying. And he would prefer things that are terrifying not to happen to him, for obvious reasons, “honestly actually it’s complicated, stealth tech” Grade A bullshit.

“well it’s awesome”

“it was useful just now but not really my style you know” 

Barry slings his arm over Hal’s shoulder and gives him a one armed hug, “everything worked out” Hal can feel some tension flow out of his friend, “well! better get busy cleaning this mess up” and with a blink he’s gone.

Hal does not want to talk about this with Batman, but knowing him, he probably already knows anyway, it would be less of a headache to go to him than have him go to Hal. 

Hal wants to enjoy whatever this is, he really does, but he doesn’t know what caused this, he doesn’t know what triggers the new abilities or whatever they are, he doesn’t know what effects this shit is going to have in the future, he just doesn’t know anything, normally he doesn’t mind not knowing some things, he’s fine leaving the knowing to the people better suited for the more complicated knowing, but he would very much like to know more about this please.

---

Then they face off against an enemy and in the process Hal drains his ring completely and the next hit is going to be bad, so what will happen? Will he somehow go intangible again? Turn invisible and use the confusion to evade and attack?

No

Apparently this time he just gets a glowing green dome shield. Something very normal for him to have and use, if only it came out of his ring that is.

Nobody notices that something is wrong, nobody besides Batman that is.

"That's three new abilities that only appear during life threatening situations"

Hal has actually seriously gone over that month by now, but nothing, no answers. He's physically fine, mentally a little damaged but nothing new there, they all are. Every test he begrudgingly went through answered nothing. He was fine. Whatever was going on actually had nothing to do with him.

And at the same time it had everything to do with him because this is only happening to him.

As usual (by now) he takes out his little glass fighter jet and runs his thumb over the wings. It is soothing strangely enough. Like a stim toy.

"The last thing to try is a thorough examination by someone from the justice league dark"

Hal groans, magic, ok then, "Alright let's get this over with. Who knows maybe I'm just haunted"

It turns out he’s not haunted, this is a good thing... supposedly, Well let’s just say that Hal would have not minded being haunted or something if that meant it could be fixed, or just explained.

It doesn’t really need to be fixed, whatever this is has been very helpful after all, but he would do basically anything for an explanation right about now.

“you are not haunted or otherwise magically compromised, but I do sense faint traces of energy from the infinite realms” Zatanna is a godsent, finally something to work with.

“from the who whats?” Hal is worried, the occult field is definitely not his area of expertise. He's a space cop, not a space demonhunter… oh that would be pretty cool though, with like a hood and twin cyber crossbows, maybe he should incorporate that somehow.

“the infinite realms… have you recently been in touch with any death related realities?”

Well there was that time when he got booted to the death universe and he died and then he was a black lantern but he got better, that’s all very much very behind him.

She better not be about to tell him that stuff still has lingering consequences.

oh god dammit that’s exactly what is going on isn’t it?

"How recently?"

"In the past week?"

"Oh, no" Hal would have known if that was the case, death stuff tends to be hard to ignore.

Zatanna frowns, that's probably not a good sign.

"But you said I'm not compromised right?" Right now what Hal wants to know the most is if this is changing him. Cause it tends to be bad for him when that's the case.

"No this is just lingering traces of something or someone else using their powers near you"

???!!??!?

"What are the infinite realms?" oh hey there Batman, was wondering when you would show up again.

"It's the afterlife, or... more like a collection of all afterlives. The infinite realms is very literal in their naming. It is home to powerful dead entities. As a general rule magic users are discouraged from interacting with it.

"Hrn"

"What did you say happened to you so far Hal?"

"Uhm, density shifting, invisibility and then a green dome-like shield, a lot like my own energy constructs"

"that sounds like pretty standard stuff for a realms being"

"Soooo what, did one leave the afterlife and decide to follow me around or something?"

"I cannot conclusively say, I can only say that you've been close to one using its abilities"

Batman folds his arms over his chest, "We shouldn’t form theories on these findings alone, Zatanna are these realm beings dangerous?"

"Hard to say, they come in all manner of forms, some small and harmless and others on the level of world destroying gods."

Great great great, awesome, well it’s probably safe to say that whatever decided to stick around Hal isn’t small and harmless, cause small and harmless doesn’t sound strong enough to casually turn him intangible or invisible… he could be wrong though.

“I do advise caution, beings from the infinite realms also have the ability to possess someone, they call it overshadowing”

Batman’s lips thin and Hal tenses up, mind control of any kind is always awful.

“I’ll place a ward on you, as a precaution” energy starts to gather in her hands.

Batman moves for the door, “we might need to look into a way to force this being to reveal itself, it would be best if we could convince it to return to their realm”

“Well I mean-” Hal starts, “like I get that, but they have been a great help so far” 

“they are a security risk”

“I’m just saying, I am grateful that they kept me from being confined to the medical wing for who even knows how long, who knows they might just be shy, wouldn’t it be better to convince them to become our ally, like Deadman. instead of telling them to leave. just cause we don’t understand how they work yet doesn’t mean they are bad and should be booted out of our reality”

Batman narrows his eyes at Hal and turns to Zatanna who is finished with placing the ward on Hal, “Zatanna please send me all you have on the infinite realms, I will do my own research” and with that he sweeps out of the room, very dramatic.

“Ass” Hal whispers under his breath.

“He’s worried”

“well he’s being a dick about it, as usual” Hal’s fingers find his little plane once again “... hey do you think they could communicate through one of those oejah boards?”

Zatanna snorts, “it’s Ouija- and please don’t”

---

No information from the JLD has been useful so far in coaxing the realms being to reveal themselves and for the most part things just go on as usual.

“Whoever they are, they followed me when I went off planet and it might just be my imagination but I had a feeling that their stuff was a lot more… potent? out there? I don’t know it was kinda strange, it just felt stronger”

“but they didn’t reveal themselves to you?”

“nope, they must know that I know now too, so they have decided to just… go on as they always have I guess”

“hrn” Batman is leafing through files, because of this whole mess he’s uncovered hidden government organizations targeting occult entities as well as inhumane laws that stand directly opposed to the meta protection acts.

Why is he working with paper regarding this matter? Well it turns out there is a infinite realms being that can possess electronica and it was only because of the protections the JLD had put in place on the Watchtower that the entity didn’t overtake it in its entirety.

Watching Constantine freak out had been mildly entertaining but Zatanna had once again reminded Batman to be very careful, Batman had begrudgingly admitted he had made a slight misstep while digging for answers… in his head, not out loud, god forbid.

“this whole thing is turning out a lot bigger than we thought huh, good thing we are dealing with it now” Hal stretches his arms above his head, “anyway I am going to go grab something to eat”

“the rapport-” Batman doesn’t bother looking at him.

“yeah yeah” Hal doesn’t either while walking out of the room, dismissively flicking his hand, “don’t worry about it spooky”

Hal takes his little plane out on the way to the cafeteria and fiddles with it in his hand, once there he puts it on the table next to Barry before getting himself something to eat.

They catch up, Hal complains (bitches) about Batman, others come and go, Zatanna quickly checks up on the ward she placed which makes Barry raise an eyebrow at Hal, “Ghost protection”

“... no such thing”

Zatanna glares.

Hal can see them both gearing up to start the magic is just science we haven’t fully scienced out yet argument again, “alright! I’m full” he stands up, “if you need me I’ll be writing that rapport, later” and gets the hell out of there.

It’s when he has just reached his preferred spot to work on the boring paperwork stuff when the alarms go off throughout what he can only imagine must probably be the entire Watchtower.

It seems like something triggered all of the JLD’s defenses in one go.

Impressive, but also very worrying.

The rapport is going to have to wait.

People are gathering in the meeting room and Batman is already taking the lead, “status”

“as of a couple minutes ago there was a build up of as of yet unknown energy which then burst in the cafeteria knocking out Flash” Martian Manhunter says, “Zatanna says we are most likely dealing with another being from the infinite realms”

Superman groans, this means he’s out.

It’s a good thing they now have defenses against overshadowing though. Being effectively trapped in a space station (because currently the thing is on lockdown) where literally anyone could suddenly actually be the enemy is the kind of situation a whole slew of horror movies like to be about.

“We will need to be extremely careful while finding and then dealing with this entity”

It has certainly been quite some time since the Watchtower got directly hit like this.

Hal pulls out his little plane.

or, he would, if he still had it.

thoroughly distracted now he suddenly realizes it’s no longer on his person.

Spooky is probably not going to like it if during the infinite realms attacker hunt he takes the opportunity to look around for his missing little fighter jet.

well what he doesn’t know won’t harm him.

His plan of looking for the plane while looking for the ghost is working out well enough.

In fact it is working out so good that he finds both at the same time.

At that point Hal had started wondering if maybe Barry had picked it up for him at the cafeteria before the attack happened and that the little thing was now in the medical wing with him. 

That turned out to clearly not be the case once he found the tiny thing glowing green and floating in the middle of the hallway.

“alright ghosty, that’s really important to me and I would like it back undamaged”

the tiny plane turned to now point directly at him, hmm, yeah that's not creepy at all.

 “... please don’t launch yourself at me” he foolishly says which of course means that’s exactly what it does next.

He uses his ring to construct a net with a pillow inside to catch the tiny jet, completely forgetting that it’s overshadowed and can thus easily just go intangible and right through his creations.

Instead it hits him square in the chest, rather painfully he might add and then just stops glowing and drops, making Hal scramble to not have it fall and shatter in a million tiny pieces on the ground.

immediately all the sensors stop detecting the presence of a realms being and the alarms die down.

Whatever was in the Watchtower has left the building.

or…

Hal looks down at the tiny plane in his hands, his talisman of protection and has a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Hey there little guy, might want to explain yourself?” he says to the tiny jet.

It vibrates in his hands.

“... yeah I figured, shit”

---

“I say just smash the bloody thing and be done with it, preferably that takes care of it once and for all” Constantine glares down at the tiny jet.

Hal is almost halfway over the table to shield the little thing, covering it from Constantine’s sight with his hand, “don’t you dare” he growls.

“it would be best for everyone involved, for all we known you could have gone full liminal what with how long you’ve been carrying the blasted thing around”

Zatanna is going over the little thing with her own magic, “it’s trapped”

“In that case just straight up trying to murder it would be the worst thing to do” Hal glares at Constantine some more. Who clearly doesn’t give a shit, figures, all stressed out about dealing with things from the infinite realms but whenever he feels he has the upper hand he’s more than happy to go full nuclear.

“it would be best if we had a way of figuring out their intentions” Batman looks down at the tiny jet impassively.

“Well, another reason to just carefully release this creature instead” Hal responds.

Zatanna’s magic fades away, “I would say that the fact it’s been protecting Hal for as long as he has it is a positive sign”

“hrn, but now it has gone and knocked Flash out, so what does that say” Batman huffs, “it’s too risky”

“Constantine and I will set up everything we can so it won’t be able to escape or try anything dangerous” Zatanna stops looking at Batman and turns back to the tiny plane, “if it turns out to be malicious we could simply banish it back to the realms, killing it would be rather stupid, we do not know what kind of connections it might have within the realms, we might accidentally anger something far worse with such a rash act”

Constantine groans but accepts Zatanna’s reasoning, Batman nods as well.

It’s only then that Hal moves out of the way.

Any plans of attack or banishment fly right out of the window once the two magic users are done and a young boy manifests from the tiny fighter jet.

Hal pushes Constantine aside to get to the boy’s side.

“Jordan, are you insane! Get back here!” 

“Hey, kid, can you hear me? please open your eyes, slowly, take your time” 

Batman has also moved forward much to Constantine’s frustration. Don't these two morons get that their protections won’t do shit if you just casually stroll into the circle?

Batman is mostly concerned in being able to step in should the boy prove to be a hostile entity anyway, but at the same time… well, that’s a child.

The boy kind of dazedly opens his eyes, looks at Hal and then seems to become aware of his own arms and hands, after opening and closing those a couple times he looks back at Hal and lets out a breath that can only be described as relieved and promptly passes out into him.

Well, Hal figures that settles it then. He doesn’t know shit about looking after a kid, and definitely not one who is probably quite dead, but this one is his, back off Batman.

they all startle rather violently when rings of blinding white light pass over the boy and suddenly the kid in Hal’s arms is a bit warmer and seems to have a sluggish pulse and also his clothes are different and his hair is now black and-

Hal is up and moving towards the medical wing before his mind catches back up with him. He can hear Batman behind him, it seems like Constantine and Zatanna aren’t moving after him as fast.

Well anyway his life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

you guys ready for the "good" ending?

[miaushii]

i may have a bit of a problem with the organization of my art…

[starchaserdreams]

Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending

3,831 words, 1 chapter

Based on a post I saw on Tumblr by Pluto-theplanet and Fandomtraveller20

Imagine Bartylus fake dating (for whatever reason) and James is so jealous that Regulus thinks he’s homophobic 

That is, ofc, until Wolfstar start dating but then Regulus is just confused as to why James looks murderous whenever Barty is with him

[somewhat-intelligent]

Y'all.

That Feel when a fic finally starts coming together the way you wanted...?

I've got it right now, and I'd like to feel it more often.

'Cause, damn.

It feels good.

Inject it right into my veins.

[little-paper-man]

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm feeling miffed

rested enough that i don't feel like a zombie mentally and physically but not rested enough to be actually able to do things :/

*stares at ch18 & ch19 of tmbm with pain* ;-; you two chapters are going to be so fucking long but i canNOT get myself to focus yet i vibrate at concerning speeds because I KNOW how i want the story to go here i KNOW what still needs to be written and I AM ITCHING TO WRITE. but no, i still have Brain Blockage aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-

[dlyarchitecture]

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.

Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?

You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.

It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"

He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"

"Yeah."

"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."

Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."

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

After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.

It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.

But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?

You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.

It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.

Bradley,

I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.

But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.

You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.

Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos. 

You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.

"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"

You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.

"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?

After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.

"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."

The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.

"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.

The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.

You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten. 

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land. 

Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.

Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.

I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you. 

Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.

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

After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.

He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.

As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck. 

There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.

Bradley,

I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.

I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable. 

You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.

Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.

Hitting send before I can change my mind.

Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.

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

"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.

"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.

"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."

"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.

"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.

You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.

At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of the fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.

After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested in him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?

I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually. 

Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.

You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

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

Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[loving-barnes]

A Touch Of Hope (Logan Howlett)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x female mutant reader

Summary: After a mission went wrong, Logan brought an injured mutant into the school. And with that, new hope has arisen - for mutants, for the school, even for Logan.

General warning: graphic depictions of violence, smut, explicit language and more.

This story is for 18+ audience. Minors DNI.

Author's note: I love that Logan is tall in the movies. They... fucked up. And I am here for it. The reader is a female. I don't do any description BUT she has long hair (I'm sorry). If you find something, let me know. I am writing this for fun, not rushing and just enjoying the process.

Set in an alternative universe. In other words - I can do what I like.

• Begin Again (Chapter One) After a failed mission, Logan unexpectedly brings home an injured mutant. | Words: 5300+

• 'Hell' (Chapter Two)  Y/N shares how she escaped 'hell’. | Words: 4300+

• Spark (Chapter Three) Charles reveals something more about Y/N's mutation. | Words: 3800+

• Window of Opportunity (Chapter Four) In Salem, Logan and Y/N have the opportunity to save the boy. | Words: 5200+

• Revelation (Chapter Five) Scott decided to be a dick and share something he shouldn’t. | Words: 4300+

• Better (Chapter Six) Things are slowly turning around. Or are they? | Words: 3100+

• Bar (Chapter Seven) It’s a fun night out at a bar. | Words: 3300+

• Bonding Moment (Chapter Eight) The students get to know Y/N a little more. | Words: 3700+

• Babysitting Gone Wrong (Chapter Nine) Charles asked Logan and Y/N to babysit the students while the rest of the staff was away for the weekend. | Words: 6200+

• Need (Chapter Ten) Things move forward between Logan and Y/N. | Words: 4300+

• One Of Us (Chapter Eleven) Y/N got an offer to become a member of the X-men. | Words: 3000+

Staff: Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy (Beast), Piotr Rasputin (Colossus), Remy LeBeau (Gambit), Bobby (Iceman), Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler), Kitty Pryde, Anna Marie (Rogue), Ororo Munroe (Storm), Logan Howlett (Wolverine), Scott Summers (Cyclops), Jean Grey, Peter Maximoff (Quicksilver)

[mapis-putellas]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒈𝒐

Paring: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 3800

Warnings: very,very vague top!reader and bottom!alexia.

Summary: After a bad match, you convince alexia to just…let go. [Reqested]

The game had been off from the start, the kind of match that made everyone tense, but for Alexia, it seemed to be especially brutal. She'd come out of the tunnel with her usual fierce focus, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, but as the minutes ticked by, her frustration was starting to show. Every misstep, every pass that didn't connect, every missed opportunity seemed to pile up on her shoulders, weighing her down.

You were subbed off after the first thirty minutes, legs still fresh, but your heart heavy with worry. From the bench, you watched as Alexia struggled, her movements sharp and uncharacteristically sloppy. Normally so precise, she was just... off. Passes that usually glided perfectly were overshot, shots on goal sailed wide, and each time, you saw her muttering to herself, fists clenched as her frustration grew.

Then it happened. She was tackled, a clean but rough challenge, and she went down hard, hitting the ground with a wince. You saw the anger flash in her eyes, that simmering frustration that had been building all game suddenly igniting. She was on her feet in an instant, shoving the player who'd tackled her with every ounce of strength she had. The other player stumbled, caught off guard, and fell back.

Your heart dropped. This wasn't like Alexia. You'd seen her fired up before, but this—this was something different, something darker, a side of her rarely seen.

The other player, shocked at first, scrambled up and shoved Alexia back, just as hard. For a second, it looked like Alexia might explode. She yelled something in Spanish, the words sharp and angry, her accent thick with frustration. You couldn't make it out, but the look in her eyes was enough. She took a step forward, hands clenched, but before she could do anything else, Mapi rushed over, grabbing Alexia and pulling her back, her voice low and steady as she tried to calm her down.

The referee blew her whistle, striding over to the two players with a stern look, and within seconds, both Alexia and the other player were shown yellow cards. Alexia shook her head, muttering under her breath as she took a few deep breaths, trying to collect herself, but you could see that her hands were still shaking with anger.

The match continued, but Alexia was on edge, her movements sharper, more aggressive than usual. She was pushing herself harder, as if trying to make up for the earlier mistakes, but it only made things worse. When the eightieth minute rolled around, the coach finally decided to pull her off, subbing her out before things could spiral any further.

She stomped over to the bench, shoulders tense, face flushed with frustration. You shifted over to give her room, but the moment she sat down, you could feel the intensity radiating off her, a quiet storm of anger and self-disappointment.

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on her knee, hoping to offer some comfort, but she jerked away, shoving your hand off with a glare that cut deeper than she knew. Her eyes flashed, warning you not to push her right now, and you withdrew, giving her the space she seemed to need.

But you knew, in that moment, that she wasn't in any state to be alone tonight. Sometimes, Alexia just needed you to take control, to guide her through the frustration and self-doubt that lingered after a game like this. She'd never ask for it, never admit that she needed help, but you knew her well enough to see it.

She sat there, jaw clenched, staring at the pitch, lost in her own thoughts. Her fingers tapped against her knee in agitation, her breathing shallow, as if she were still caught up in the heat of the match. She wasn't just mad at the other player or the referee; she was mad at herself, at the way she'd lost control, at the mistakes she couldn't take back.

You watched her, heart aching with understanding. This was the Alexia only a few people knew, the one who carried the weight of her own expectations so heavily that it sometimes crushed her. You wanted to help her, to take that weight off her shoulders, if only for tonight.

*

The final whistle had blown, leaving a sense of frustration hanging heavy in the air. A 2-2 draw was not the outcome any of you had wanted, and Alexia, especially, looked ready to combust. As you made your way toward the locker room, you caught a glimpse of her stalking off the pitch, shoulders stiff, her face a mask of barely-contained frustration. Her body language was unmistakable: this draw stung, perhaps even more than a loss might have, and she was taking every ounce of it onto herself.

Inside the locker room, the usual post-game chatter was subdued. You moved quietly through the room, grabbing both your kitbags, offering a quick goodbye to the teammates lingering nearby. As much as you loved being part of this team, on days like this, the bustle of the locker room felt too much. You knew Alexia needed space, a chance to breathe without the noise, and truth be told, so did you. She had her own ways of dealing with frustration, but after years together, you could read her moods like a book. The quiet of home would do her better than any pep talk here.

Finding Alexia by her locker, you gently took her hand, feeling her tense grip as you began to lead her toward the exit. She pulled back slightly, resisting, her eyes flashing as if daring you to let her go. But you just gave her a steady look, one eyebrow raised, the look she knew all too well. The one that said, behave.

Her gaze narrowed, a low grumble escaping her lips, but she didn't fight you. With a resigned huff, she let herself be led out of the locker room, not meeting your eyes, her face set in a stubborn frown. You didn't say anything, just continued walking, her hand tight in yours as you made your way to the car.

At the car, she hesitated again, eyeing you with that fiery look as you gently nudged her toward the passenger seat. "I'm fine, you know," she muttered, glancing away, her voice a mix of irritation and fatigue.

"Uh-huh," you murmured, giving her a small smile. "Just humor me, okay?"

She muttered something in Spanish under her breath, a faint, frustrated grumble, but she climbed in, sinking back into the seat with a sullen look on her face. You leaned in, pulling her seatbelt across her and clicking it into place, feeling her eyes on you the whole time. She sighed dramatically, as if letting you help was some enormous burden, but she didn't resist.

After tossing your kitbags into the backseat, you took a moment to collect yourself. Leaning against the driver's side door, you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to let go of the tension that had built up from watching her all night, from trying to keep your own patience in check. Alexia had a way of getting under your skin without meaning to, her frustration feeding into yours, making you crave control, to bring things back to balance. She needed you to be steady, to take over tonight—and you needed to do it, too.

Finally, you climbed in, buckled yourself in, and started the car. Alexia slumped in her seat, staring out the window, her expression stormy and distant. You glanced over at her, your heart tugging at the sight of her looking so defeated, but she was lost in her own world, barely acknowledging you.

For a few minutes, you drove in silence, the low hum of the engine the only sound in the car. You kept glancing over, waiting for her to say something, to vent, to let go, but she stayed quiet, her gaze fixed on the passing streetlights, her fingers tapping restlessly on her thigh. She was wound tight, a storm waiting to break, and the weight of it all settled between you like a wall.

"Alexia," you said softly, testing the waters. "Tough game, huh?"

She didn't respond. Not a word, not a glance, just a flicker of annoyance that crossed her face before she turned her attention back to the window. You tried again, your voice gentle, trying to reach her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Nothing. She barely moved, her jaw clenching as if she was holding back a thousand things she wanted to say, a thousand emotions she didn't want to share. You took a slow breath, swallowing down your own frustration, forcing yourself to stay calm. She wasn't shutting you out on purpose; you knew that. But tonight, her anger was a wall, and you weren't sure how to break through it.

The silence grew, stretching out between you, thick and heavy. You tried a few more times, small questions, gentle comments, but each one was met with the same unyielding silence, as if she'd put up a barrier between you and her thoughts, and she wasn't ready to let you in.

Finally, you gripped the wheel a little tighter, focusing on the road ahead. If she didn't want to talk, that was fine. You'd let her have her silence, let her work through it her way, but you were there. She might not want to admit it, but you knew her well enough to see it. She needed you to be there, to keep things steady, to take over, even if she wouldn't ask.

As you pulled up to a red light, you glanced over, your gaze softening as you took in her profile, the way her shoulders were tense, her brow furrowed. She was carrying so much, too much, and it broke your heart to see her like this, trapped in her own head, fighting a battle you couldn't help her with.

Without thinking, you reached over, your fingers brushing gently over her hand. She flinched slightly, but didn't pull away, just looked down at your hand, as if considering whether or not to let herself take the comfort you were offering.

"Alexia," you murmured, keeping your voice soft. "I'm here, okay? You don't have to go through this alone."

For a moment, her expression softened, her fingers twitching under yours. But then she pulled her hand away, her gaze hardening again as she looked back out the window, her walls firmly back in place.

You sighed, your heart aching with the desire to help her, to take away the weight she was carrying, but you knew better than to push. You'd done this dance before, felt the tension that always bubbled under the surface after a rough game, and you knew that sometimes, the best thing you could do was wait.

As you pulled into the driveway and parked the car, you turned to her again, hoping she might have softened a bit, but she was still staring out the window, lost in her thoughts. You sighed, more to yourself than anything, and got out of the car, moving around to open her door. She didn't resist this time, letting you help her out of the seat, though she still kept her gaze averted.

Inside, the house was quiet, the familiar calmness a welcome contrast to the tension that had hung over the stadium. You took her kitbag and set it by the door, slipping out of your shoes and giving her a moment to settle. She stood there for a second, as if not quite sure what to do with herself, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

Without a word, you stepped forward, taking her by the hand and guiding her toward the living room. She hesitated for just a moment, but then she let herself be led, her steps a bit slower, her shoulders a little less rigid. You sat her down on the couch, and she slumped back, finally exhaling as if she'd been holding her breath for hours.

You knelt down in front of her, reaching for her boots and starting to untie them. She frowned, shifting as if to protest, but you gave her another look, the kind that said, "Let me."

She sighed, rolling her eyes but staying still, letting you slip her boots off one by one. You set them aside and gently massaged her ankles, working out the tension you knew had built up over the course of the game. She let out a reluctant sigh, her shoulders relaxing just a little as you continued to work, your fingers gentle but firm.

"Rough night, huh?" you murmured, keeping your voice soft, almost as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile peace that was starting to settle over her.

She didn't answer, but you saw the faintest flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes, a tiny spark that told you she was listening, even if she wasn't ready to talk.

You moved to sit beside her, reaching out to rest a hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles as you let the silence stretch between you. She leaned into the touch, just a little, her head tipping forward as if the weight of the day had finally caught up to her. You could feel her walls starting to crack, the tough, stubborn shell she wore around her emotions finally giving way, and you knew that soon, she'd let herself lean on you.

After a few more moments, you slid your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She resisted for a second, but then she gave in, resting her head on your shoulder, her body relaxing fully against yours. You felt her exhale, a deep, shuddering breath that seemed to carry away some of the frustration, the anger, the disappointment.

You didn't speak. You just held her, giving her the space she needed to process, to feel, to let go of the game and everything that had come with it. You stroked her hair, the gesture soft and soothing, until you felt her muscles begin to unwind, the tension slowly melting away.

In the quiet of the living room, you felt Alexia's breathing finally steady, her weight resting more fully against you. She was softening, bit by bit, the tension easing as you held her. But you knew she needed more than just this brief reprieve. So, with one last gentle rub to her back, you rose to your feet, extending a hand to her. She looked up, her brown eyes dark and searching, and after a beat, she placed her hand in yours.

Without a word, you led her to the bathroom, flicking on the light and setting the room aglow with the soft, warm yellow hue that you knew would help her relax. The quiet hum of the shower filled the room as you turned on the water, adjusting it until it was just the right temperature. You could feel her gaze on you, still quiet, still simmering with the remnants of her frustration, but with that softness now—the beginnings of trust and release.

Gently, you reached for the hem of her jersey, slipping it up over her head in one smooth motion. She stood before you, her skin dewy from the night's exertion, her breathing steady as she let you strip away the day. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her hipbone as you guided her shorts down her legs, feeling her shiver slightly at the touch. Standing up, you took her hands, steadying her, silently assuring her that she was safe, that you'd take care of her.

Once she was bare, you guided her to turn around, her back to you, and reached for the headband that had been holding back her flyaways. You slid it off and then carefully undid her ponytail, letting her hair fall free, strands tangled from the sweat and effort of the game. You ran your fingers through her hair, untangling it gently, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her head.

She was still, breathing deeply, and you could feel her beginning to let go. Bit by bit, the last remnants of tension were leaving her body, and you felt a quiet relief settle over you too.

Silently, you stripped down, joining her in the vulnerability of bare skin, and with a gentle hand on the small of her back, you guided her into the shower. The warmth enveloped you both, steam curling around you as you stepped under the stream. Alexia faced you now, her eyes bright and shimmering, filled with something raw and pleading. Her hands hovered near her sides, fingers twitching slightly, as if she wanted to reach out but wasn't sure she had the strength.

You didn't wait; instead, you wrapped her up in your arms, pulling her close until your bare skin pressed together from head to toe. Her arms slid around your waist, and you felt the full weight of her body as she leaned into you, her head heavy against your shoulder. She melted against you, letting out a breath that sounded more like a sigh, and you held her tight, as if grounding her, as if saying, I'm here, I've got you.

You shifted one arm around her lower back, holding her steady, and brought the other to rest across her shoulder blades, cradling the back of her head. She tucked herself into you, her breathing unsteady, and as the water ran over you both, you finally broke the silence, your voice a gentle murmur against her ear.

"I love you, Alexia," you said, each word tender and true. "I'm proud of you. And you're a good girl—always."

You felt her breath catch, a small sniffle escaping her, and a quiet wetness against your neck as her tears mingled with the shower's stream. She was finally letting go, the weight of the day melting away, and you held her close, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

"It's okay, love," you whispered, soothing her as her shoulders shook softly with the quiet release of everything she'd been holding inside. "Let it out, I've got you. You don't have to hold anything back with me."

Her grip on you tightened, and you felt her tremble slightly, her body yielding to the comfort you offered. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, letting her know that you were here, that she was safe.

"I'm here, Alexia," you murmured softly. "I'll always be here. No matter what."

She didn't answer, but the way she held onto you spoke louder than words, her face buried against your shoulder as she allowed herself to feel everything she'd been pushing down. You stroked her hair, threading your fingers through the damp strands, and continued to whisper soft reassurances, your voice a soothing balm to the turmoil she'd been holding inside.

"I know today was tough," you said gently. "But you don't have to go through it alone. I'm here for you, always. You're strong, Lex, and you're allowed to have hard days. You're allowed to feel it."

Her breathing slowed as she listened, her body softening further with every word you spoke. You could feel the tension slipping away from her, and when she finally pulled back slightly, her eyes were red-rimmed, her gaze soft and open, filled with gratitude and love.

You brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, your thumb tracing the line of her cheek as you offered her a small, reassuring smile. "You're allowed to let me take care of you too, okay? Even on days like this."

She managed a tiny nod, her lips pressing together as if she were fighting another wave of emotion, and you pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting her feel the quiet strength of your love.

After a moment, you eased her back just enough to reach for the shampoo, and she stood still, watching you with a quiet vulnerability as you poured a bit into your hands and began to gently work it through her hair. You took your time, your fingers massaging her scalp in slow, soothing circles, and you felt her relax further, a soft hum escaping her lips.

"Feels nice?" you asked, a gentle smile curving your lips.

She nodded, closing her eyes as she leaned into your touch, a soft sigh escaping her. You continued washing her hair, working the shampoo down to the ends, your touch light and comforting. The weight of the game was finally lifting, replaced by the gentle, calming presence of this moment, of the warmth of the water and the quiet intimacy of being together.

Once you'd rinsed out the shampoo, you moved on to the conditioner, your fingers gliding through her damp hair with ease. She remained still, her head tilted slightly forward, her breathing even and soft as she let herself lean into your care.

"There we go," you murmured softly, smoothing the conditioner through her hair. "Just relax, love. I've got you."

She murmured something in Spanish, a quiet whisper of affection and gratitude, and you felt your heart swell. You leaned down, pressing another gentle kiss to her temple, and continued your work, washing away the remnants of the day until she was left clean and calm, the tension fully eased from her body.

Finally, you wrapped your arms around her once more, letting the warmth of the shower surround you both as you held her close. She nestled against you, her breathing steady, her heart no longer weighed down by the frustration and anger that had gripped her so tightly.

As the water began to cool, you guided her out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her shoulders, taking care to dry her off gently, letting her feel your presence and the quiet reassurance of your love. She met your gaze, her brown eyes soft and warm, and you felt the unspoken connection between you, a bond that didn't need words.

"Better?" you asked, your voice a soft murmur as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She nodded, a small, grateful smile gracing her lips, and you returned the smile, knowing that tonight, you'd helped her find peace the only way you could.

Taking her hand, you lead her to the bedroom, wrapping her up in the comfort of  fresh sheets and pulling her close. Her bare skin was flush against your own, neither of you particularly liking to be even the slightest bit apart on nights like this. Her head was tucked within the crook of your neck, and you hold her close, hands tracing gentle circles across the warm skin of her back.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @simp4panos

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [10] - Family Dinner

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Happy news can make a dinner so much better.

Word Count: 3800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“I’m sorry, did you just say marriage?”

You sipped your coffee before shooting Becca and Sarah a grin, then popped a piece of your croissant in your mouth.

“Mm hm.”

“You’re getting married to-to my—” Becca stammered. “To my brother?”

“Yeah,” you said and looked around. “Do you guys think we should get mimosas?”

“What the fuck?!” Becca exclaimed. “Since when?”

“It’d better be this morning, Y/N,” Sarah said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Technically around 48 hours ago.”

Becca gawked at you. “Y/N, I’m going to kill you.”

“Listen, I didn’t—” you waved your hands in the air. “I figured you’d want to hear it in person! It’s kind of a big deal, you know?”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Wait, start from the beginning,” Sarah said. “How did that happen?”

“I had a talk with my dad,” you said, biting inside your cheek. “He’s going to choose Ian.”

Sarah frowned while Becca pulled back slightly.

“He made up his mind?”

“Mm hm.”

“You’re sure you can’t convince him?”

You shook your head.

“No,” you said, your stomach doing a tense flip. “I thought I could but…he was very clear. He will not name me his heir, it’s going to be Ian.”

“That will mess everything up,” Becca said. “Including the truce, because—”

“Bucky won’t do business with him, neither will Sam or Steve,” you finished her sentence for her. “I told my father that but it didn’t even make him think twice.”

“Great,” Sarah muttered, and you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” you said. “I’m done waiting around for him to give me a chance. If he doesn’t want to give me power, I’ll take it for myself.”

“And that’s where Bucky enters the picture?”

“Exactly,” you said. “He will give me a way in, and once everything is in place I’ll take over.”

“Before Ian can?”

You nodded your head. “I’ll force my dad’s hand if I have to.”

“He’s not going to like it,” Becca sang in a teasing manner and you scoffed.

“It’s either that or we risk another war between the families,” you said. “To be honest with you, I don’t really care whether he likes it or not anymore. I’m the firstborn and it’s my right, he promised it to me all those years ago.”

“What happens when you take over though?” Sarah asked. “You and Bucky…?”

“We’ll get a divorce.”

Becca arched a brow and suppressed a smile. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not?” you said. “He doesn’t want to stay married to me a minute longer than it’s necessary, and I share the sentiment.”

Becca exchanged a knowing glance with Sarah, her smile widening before she turned to you.

“If you say so,” she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee and as if on cue, your phone started vibrating on the table. You checked the name on the screen, then answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Hi there, fiancée.”

You could already tell he was smiling from the tone of his voice and you rolled your eyes, then motioned at Becca and Sarah to give you a moment before getting up from your seat to walk out of the restaurant.

“What do you want?” you asked and he tsk tsked.

“Babe…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“My beautiful wife?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Mrs. Barnes?”

“There’s going to be another last name there as well, don’t forget about that one,” you said. “It’s hyphenated.”

“Yeah, for some reason…” he grumbled and you heaved a sigh.

“Is there a point to this conversation? Because if there isn’t, I’m going to hang up now.”

“Yeah,” he said. “There is actually. Before tonight’s dinner, I just figured you’d want to know that your father knows.”

Your eyes widened. “You told him about the engagement?”

“What? No!” he said quickly. “But he knows we’re together.”

“Except we’re not.”

“Well fine, he knows we’ve been spending time in the honeymoon suit.”

You leaned back to the wall and pinched the bridge of your nose before clearing your throat.

“He called you?”

“Not yet but my parents did.”

“That sounds like a fun conversation,” you said, smiling slightly. “What did they say?”

Bucky chuckled.

“My mom just asked how you were,” he said. “That’s her being subtle. And my dad told me to not fuck it up so, went as expected. Arthur didn’t call you?”

“He did, I just didn’t answer,” you said, pursing your lips together. “I don’t want to talk to him yet, so…”

“But are you going to be okay tonight?” he asked and you pulled your brows together.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Can I not ask about your wellbeing?”

“No,” your reply came way too fast. “That’s not on the prenup.”

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered and you checked your watch, then pushed yourself off the wall.

“So you’re going to the restaurant before me then?”

“Yeah, I think it’d be better if I got on your father’s good side before that conversation,” he said. “Considering I didn’t even give him a heads up—unless you want to go together?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Absolutely not,” you said. “Playing the dumbass in love will be even more difficult if I spend more than an hour with you.”

“I think you like spending time with me,” he said with a teasing tone and you scoffed.

“I’m hanging up now,” you said. “Don’t be late tonight.”

“Of course, wife.”

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped and hung up, then let out a breath.

“I can’t believe I’m marrying this asshole…” you murmured to yourself, then made your way back into the restaurant.

                                                 *

Tonight’s dinner was not going to be very easy to handle, you could already tell. Becca had always been too good at reading your mood, so as soon as you two stepped out of the car, she reached out to hold your hand, making you turn your head.

“It’ll be fine,” she said before you could even say anything and you licked your lips.

“It makes it official,” you muttered. “All of it.”

Becca paused for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.

“What does it matter?” she asked. “If you’re going to get a divorce eventually…”

“Of course we will,” you said. “But it’s not just that, you know? Starting tonight, I’m going against everything my dad wants.”

Becca nodded her head.

“You are,” she said airily. “But if he didn’t want you to take over eventually, he shouldn’t have raised you as his heir to begin with. That shit is not a game, he can’t just change his mind.”

You pursed your lips together, keeping your eyes on the restaurant.

“People won’t be happy about it,” you muttered. “Me being an actual rival, or taking over.”

 “You’re the firstborn,” she reminded you. “It’s your right. And that’s what you want, so fuck what everyone else will think. You’re going to do amazing.”

You stole a look at him, fear churning your insides.

“You think so?” you rasped out, desperate to hear it out loud and Becca nodded fervently.

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you couldn’t pull it off,” she said. “You’re going to be much better than your father. Trust me.”

You squeezed her hand. “Thanks Becca.”

“Keep in mind how helpful I am when you’re picking your bridesmaid gown colors,” she said, making you let out a laugh. “Friendly reminder, I don’t like lilac.”

“I know, I know…” you told her, throwing an arm over her shoulder to press a kiss on her cheek, then you both walked into the restaurant.

As usual, either your father or Bucky’s father had it closed down for the night so that you all could enjoy your dinner without any strangers around. The hostess greeted you and led you to your usual table which was already occupied by Bucky’s family and yours. Your father stood up as soon as he saw you and made his way to you.

“Good luck,” Becca muttered and smiled at him. “Hi Arthur!”

“Becca my dear, welcome!” your father said as she kissed his cheek.

“I’m starving already,” she said and went to sit down while your father turned to you.

“So?” he said. “You cannot pick up the phone, Y/N?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was busy.”

“Really?” he asked. “Too busy to send a text?”

You shrugged your shoulders again, pursing your lips together and he heaved a sigh.

“Sweetheart…” he said. “I don’t like this, you know that. I understand that we can have our disagreements but moving out of the house?”

“I didn’t move out of the house,” you said. “My stuff is still there.”

“But you’re not staying there?”

“I felt like a change of scenery.”

“Is that all?” he asked and you cleared your throat.

“Sort of.”

“Because what I’ve been hearing…” he said. “Not to mention, both you and Bucky planning this dinner?”

“I think we should wait for him to have this conversation—where is he anyway?” you asked, looking around the restaurant and your father frowned slightly.

“We thought you two were coming together.”

“He’s late?” you asked, nervousness shooting through you and your father waved a hand in the air.

“There’s a reason for that I’m sure,” he said. “Come on, sit down. We started already.”

“Great,” you muttered to yourself and followed him to the table and waved at Bucky’s parents Winnifred and George.

“Y/N, hello!” Winnifred stood up to hug you and you hugged her back before pulling back to wave at George.

“We were going to wait for you but you know how your father is,” Winnifred said and your father chuckled, gesturing surrender.

“I don’t mind,” you said, sitting down next to Becca as you nodded in Ian’s direction. “Ian.”

“Y/N.”

“So, what is this dinner about?” George asked and Winnifred shot him a look.

“George.”

“What? I’m curious. You would think this is a life-and-death situation the way Bucky talked about it.”

“I think we should uh…we should wait for him for that one,” you said and turned to the waiter who filled your glass.

“The chef is preparing your usual, ma'am."

“Thank you,” you said and sat up straighter while George smiled at Becca.

“Do you know what this is about?”

“Of course,” Becca said with a smile. “But I’m special.”

“Will this dinner take long?” Ian asked you, checking his phone. “I have plans for 10.”

“You’re welcome to leave,” you told him but before he could retort, Becca waved at someone by the entrance and you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky walk into the restaurant. You cleared your throat, then pushed your seat back.

“Excuse me for a moment,” you said and made your way to him.

“Charm, hey—”

“With me,” you said without even stopping and he turned around to follow you out of the restaurant, and you whirled around on your heels the moment you stepped outside, raising your brows at him.

“Are you serious right now?” you asked. “You were supposed to be here before me, that was the plan!”

“Okay, I know I’m late but in my defense—”

“No no, you said—”

“Job got in the way, I didn’t even get the chance to change,” he cut you off and raised his wrist so that you could see the sleeve of his white shirt. “I still have blood on my sleeve, look!”

“Do I look like your drycleaner from where you’re standing?” you snapped back in a whisper. “You said you’d come before me, and considering your relationships I’d say you’re used to that!”

He rolled his eyes. “To repeat, job got in the way.”

“You’re late to dinner because you were too busy punching someone and that’s a good excuse?”

“It was necessary!”

“It was necessary for it to be you punching that person, is that right?”

“Excuse me, lovebirds,” Becca’s voice reached you and you both turned to look at her as she leaned sideways to the entrance. “Have your fight later on, they’re getting restless.”

You ran a hand over your face.

“Alright,” you said. “So okay, when are we telling them?”

“My plate is already there and I’d rather if you did it right away,” Becca said, pointing back with her thumb. “They don’t look like they’ll stop asking what this dinner is about anytime soon.”

“You just don’t want mom to ask you about Leila,” Bucky told her and Becca shrugged her shoulders.

“I mean would it kill you to do something nice for me?” she asked, making him shake his head slightly. You bit back a smile and threw your shoulders back, trying to get rid of the tension in your body.

“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered more to yourself and made your way back to the table with Becca and Bucky following you.

“Good evening,” Bucky greeted everyone at the table with a smile. “Sorry I was late, it’s just…work.”

Becca went to sit down on her seat as you eyed your food, but stood beside Bucky, clenching and unclenching your fist just so that you could focus on something else other than the nervousness pulsing in your veins.

“Is everything alright?” Winnifred asked Bucky and he nodded his head.

“Oh yeah, two meetings clashed,” he lied, subtly rolling the sleeve of his shirt up. “There was a moment of chaos but it’s fixed.”

“So can we learn what this whole secrecy and emergency dinner is about now?” George said with a knowing smile and you stole a look at your father who looked almost impatient. Knowing them, every single person at the table except Becca thought Bucky and you were about to tell them you were dating, so you were sure that the news was going to be completely unexpected for all of them.

“Yeah,” you said, reminding yourself to smile as you leaned sideways to Bucky’s arm. “You can. Sorry about the secrecy, we just wanted it to be a surprise.”

Ian scoffed a small laugh.

“You staying in a hotel in his territory might have ruined that surprise,” he said and Bucky’s eyes narrowed but you elbowed him while your father gave Ian a warning glare, making him sit up straighter.

“So uh, it happened very recently,” you said, ignoring Ian. “And normally you would have heard beforehand.”

“For which I take full responsibility,” Bucky added with a smirk. “That’s on me.”

“I mean you know we’ve had this…strange dynamic for a while.”

“Ten years,” Becca muttered into her wine glass. “Not that anyone is counting.”

“But once we actually talked to each other, something happened,” you lied through your teeth, Bucky’s arm snaking around your waist as he nuzzled to the top of your head, making your heart skip a beat but you forced yourself to remember that it was all an act. Winnifred pressed a hand on her chest as if she was lost in her emotions while your father and George exchanged glances, both smiling slightly.

“And I hope that you’ll be happy for us,” you said and waited for a second, then cleared your throat. “Because we’re getting married.”

The impact of your words was immediate and very visible. Ian’s head shot up as Winnifred gasped in shock and your father’s eyes widened while George’s jaw dropped. Becca stifled a laugh, taking another sip of her wine as she leaned back in her seat.

“Married?!” Winnifred exclaimed as she jumped on her feet. “Oh thank God, this is the best news I could ever hope for!”

“Trust me mom, I was as surprised as you are,” Bucky said with a chuckle while Winnifred pulled you into a tight hug and your father tried to pull himself together.

“Married?” he repeated and you nodded when Winnifred pulled back to hug Bucky.

“Yeah.”

“That’s…uh—” your father stammered. “That’s wonderful news honey but you two have been dating for what? Two days?”

“Three days,” you said helpfully and Bucky hissed in a breath.

“I was going to get your permission, Arthur.”

“Why didn’t you?” your father asked him, looking him in the eye but Bucky didn’t look intimidated in the slightest.

“Oh come on Arthur, don’t be so traditional!” George said with a laugh. “They’re in love, and it’s not like they met three days ago. They’ve known each other their whole lives, I for one have been hoping for this to happen for almost ten years!”

“And we already know we want to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Speaking of, where’s the ring?” Winnifred asked, making you and Bucky exchange glances before you turned to her.

Shit.

Of course he was supposed to have proposed with a ring.

“The ring!” you said. “Right, uh…Bucky?”

Bucky swallowed thickly and waved a hand in the air.

“The ring, that’s—that’s a funny story actually,” he said. “You see, we um—”

“My overly confident brother didn’t bother asking the best friend,” Becca cut him off airily, pointing at herself. “Surprise surprise; it was the wrong size. We went to the jewelers today to get it fixed, they said it’ll be ready within the week.”

Dear God, you loved Becca.

You subtly mouthed ‘thank you’ to her while George stood up to come closer to you.

“Congratulations son,” he said as he pulled him into a hug to slap him on the back. “You sure took your time. And Y/N, welcome to the family sweetheart.”

“Congratulations,” Ian said from where he was sitting and your father sighed, then stood up to hug you.

“We still need to talk about this,” he said. “But I’m very happy for you two.”

“Thanks dad,” you muttered as the waiters brought your food and you all sat down. You took your fork into your hand and George raised his glass.

“To happy couple!”

You and Bucky raised your glasses as well and your father took a sip of his drink, then leaned back in his seat.

“See, Y/N,” he said. “I know you’re still a bit angry at me but I told you. This right here will make you much happier than what we talked about earlier. That’s what matters.”

You arched a brow as Bucky turned to look at you better with a smirk and you stole a glance at him, a sly smile curling your lips as well.

Oh.

Of course your father naively believed that something as trivial as marriage could keep you from what you wanted. It was almost condescending at this point but you managed to hold back the retort, then clicked your tongue.

“Oh yeah,” you said, making Bucky chuckle. “I have a very clear idea of what’s actually important now, and I’ll make sure everyone else sees that as well.”

                                        *

When it was time to leave the restaurant, everyone was in a wonderful mood. Winnifred had so many ideas about the wedding, and as far as you could tell, your father had gotten over the annoyance of Bucky not having asked for his permission.

“So, are you coming home?” he asked you as George and Winnifred’s car drove off and you looked at Bucky who was talking to Becca by her car.

“Maybe later,” you said with a shake of your head. “Me and Bucky have things to talk about, so…”

Your father hummed.

“Alright,” he said. “What do you say we grab lunch tomorrow then?”

You thought for a moment, then shifted your weight.

“Sure, why not?”

“Good,” he said and hugged you. “You know I don’t like it when we fight.”

You pursed your lips together. “I know, I know...”

“I’ll see you tomorrow honey, please be careful,” he said and got in the car while Ian seemed to be in a deep discussion with Ryan. Ryan’s gaze found you over Ian’s shoulder and you offered him a small smile, then turned your head when you heard Becca say your name.

“Y/N are we meeting tomorrow?”

“Yeah after lunch,” you answered. “I’ve just promised my dad I’d have lunch with him, so…”

She nodded. “Okay, I’ll text you then?”

“Sounds great!” you said as she got into her car and the driver closed her door before getting into the driver’s seat. You looked into your purse, then let out a groan when you couldn’t find your phone.

“Great,” you muttered and made your way into the restaurant, the waiter stopping in his tracks the moment he saw you.

“Ma’am?”

“Hi again, I left my phone at the table,” you told him with a small laugh and he nodded.

“I’ll get it for you right away,” he said and went inside, then in a minute he was back with your phone. “Here.”

“Thank you so much,” you said. “Have a nice night!”

“You too ma’am,” he said and you left the restaurant again, then frowned as soon as you saw Ian talking to Bucky by his car while Ryan waited with Ian’s other bodyguards close by. You took a step towards them but neither of them seemed to notice you, and judging by the stern look in Bucky’s eyes, it wasn’t because they were having a fun conversation.

“…And that’s what she wants in case she didn’t tell you,” Ian said and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him.

“I know that.”

Ian shook his head slightly. “Don’t get me wrong, but—”

“Let me stop you right there Ian,” Bucky said, glaring daggers at him. “You’re not going to say anything that I might get wrong about the woman I love.”

Your stomach did a happy flip but you quickly frowned at yourself. It was just Bucky selling this whole idea that you were in love; it wasn’t as if you and he could ever fall in love or anything.

Even the thought of it was absolutely absurd.

You cleared your throat to announce you were there and they both turned to look at you.

“Hey babe,” Bucky said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you said without even sparing a glance at Ian as the driver opened the car door for you and you got in with Bucky following you suit. You massaged your temples, then leaned your head back when the driver started the car.

“You okay?” Bucky asked and you gritted your teeth, crossing your arms over your chest.

“The way my dad talks to me…” you muttered and Bucky scoffed a dry laugh.

“I know,” he said. “Trust me, I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” you rasped out. “George never underestimated you or replaced you with another heir.”

That made him pause for a moment, a dark shadow crossing his eyes before he took a deep breath.

“No worries Charm,” he said. “He won’t get to underestimate you again once you get that crown.”

You felt a small smile curl your lips as you turned your gaze to the city lights outside, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 11

[r0tting-rat]

DCA PROMPTOBER 2024

Attention! This slasher!au belong to the lovely @wyervan, who gave me the okay to write a little drabble about their murderous guys bc I'm simply obsessed with them. I hope I did them justice :>

Day 27 - Stalker

Pairing: Slasher!Sun and Moon x/& GN reader Warning: Blood, violence and gore, choking, drug mention Words: 3800+ Summary: It's Halloween and someone stops by to pay you a visit <3

Whoever said that serial killers are the real monsters of this world has probably never worked a minimum wage job at a diner during Halloween. Teenagers were a fucking pain, there was nothing to say about it. Between stupid pranks and annoying messes, they seemed to try and find every possible way to make your living life hell, like you were some kind of lifeless mannequin and not a waiter.

You often had the closing shift during the weekends, along with a coworker of yours, who was as insufferable and as bothersome as some of the teenagers who’d come in during the day. Jake was a douche, there wasn’t much to say; he was immature and lazy, multiple times he had found ways to shove his workload on you and other people, his cigarette breaks lasted longer than your lunch and he would flirt with every woman under 20 that would cross the threshold of the diner. You and he often worked the closing shift together, which meant you cleaned the kitchen and the tables as Jake called his girlfriend on his flip phone while mindlessly sweeping the floor, only managing to move dust bunnies and used napkins from one place to the other.

You heard his voice loud and clear from the kitchen, complaining about some guy who owed him money, when your ears suddenly picked up something you regretted hearing.

-Stop worrying about it, there’s no risk of him telling the cops, he’d get into a lot more trouble than me,- he laughed, -He’s addicted to that shit, he wouldn’t survive a week without me.-

You had heard from a coworker that Jake sold drugs to highschoolers, but you weren’t the type to believe rumors without any proof, so you had never cared much about it. Your eyes glanced up from the grill you were cleaning to see if Jake had noticed you listening in on his private conversation, but the man was too engrossed into pretending to do his job to notice you. You didn’t want to have anything to do with Jake’s deals, you wanted to keep out of his life as much as you didn’t want him to become a part of yours.

Suddenly, someone began knocking on the glass door of the bar, making it rattle loudly and echo through the small diner. You stopped and waited, until a second, louder knock startled you. Jake wasn’t going to open, was he?

You peeked out of the kitchen, looking for your coworker, but he must have disappeared somewhere in the back because you couldn’t see him anywhere in the dining area. He had left the broom behind, of course. 

Looking outside the diner and into the dark parking lot, you saw a tall man standing right in front of the door with a weird jester costume, waiting for someone to open the door for him. He was wearing red and yellow puffy striped pants, a yellow top with red ruffles, and a weird Halloween mask over his face—a white and golden smiling sun, with a crown of golden rays all around.

As soon as the man saw you he stopped slowly swaying on the spot, freezing, and his head tilted to the side in confusion. You had expected teenagers to come and bother you so late, considering it was the 31st, but a grown ass man wearing such a stupid costume? That was simply ridiculous. You tapped the sign on your side of the glass which read “CLOSED” in bold and red letters, but that seemed to not be enough for the clown.

-We don’t do trick or treating here,- you said, speaking loud enough so he could hear you from outside, -If you want candies how about knocking at the door of a house or something?-

The man’s shoulders shook with laughter, but you didn’t hear any sound coming from him, so you simply sighed and turned back towards the kitchen. You wanted to go home, drink something warm, and do a rewatch of the Scream trilogy, nothing else. Why couldn’t that asshole do the same?

The masked man slammed his hand on the glass, making you jump and turn back around, then he pointed towards the broom laying on the floor a few feet away from you. Something clicked in your head, and you stared at him with your mouth agape.

-Wait, are you here for Jake? Are you one of his friends or something?- you asked, and after a moment of hesitation, the man nodded eagerly. You gave him a better look, noticing exactly how much taller than you he was and his lean build—he didn’t fit the depiction of Jake’s clients. Most of them were highschoolers, as far as you were aware.

-Listen, I can’t let you in, but we’re almost closed, so you just wait a couple of minutes and he’s all yours,- you told the man, who gave you a grateful nod followed by a step back into the parking lot. Despite that, that guy unnerved you deeply, he was weird and creepy, and you didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

You decided you could tell Jake to go home and leave you the rest of the work—which you would have ended up doing even if he stayed there—just so you could get rid of the masked loser outside, but when you called his name, you didn’t hear any answer. You walked in the back of the diner, checking even the kitchen to make sure he wasn’t eating any of the leftover fries, but your coworker had disappeared into thin air. 

During your search you found the staff door wide open, letting in the cold night breeze, and when you tried to close it you found that the handle wasn’t working properly anymore. Every time you pushed it closed, the door would creak open once more.

-What the fuck…?-

A sudden sound made you jump out of your skin and turn around in search of the cause, finding only the silence of the dark diner answering back. You were getting uneasy, on edge, and you couldn’t stop thinking about the weirdo right outside the door. Right as you had begun to wonder if he had found a way to get in, a hand grabbed your shoulder and you screamed.

-Jesus, fuck!- yelled Jake as you flinched away from him, -What the hell is wrong with you?!-

Your heart was beating so loud you could hear it in your chest, hammering against your sternum like a drum, but when you saw your coworker standing right behind you, you sighed and relaxed.

-You scared me!- You shoved the man away, annoyed, and he reacted by looking at you like you had gotten crazy. -Go tell your stupid friend to leave, he’s creeping me out.-

-Who are you talking about?- he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

-Sun dude, with the mask and clown outfit? Doesn’t that ring a bell? He’s waiting for you outside.-

Jake’s brown furrowed in confusion, then he pushed you away to enter back into the dining area, where you had seen the masked guy. He looked outside, walking towards the glass windows that gave a clear view of the parking lot, which revealed to be completely empty. Jake turned around to glare at you like you had set your pants on fire. 

-Did you take something? Some shrooms?- he asked, and you sighed.

-No, he probably just left. That’s his van, I’m sure, it wasn’t there an hour ago.- You pointed at a white van parked not too far from the door in the parking lot. -Do you recognize it?-

Jake shook his head, still visibly confused by your behavior, and from his stance you could tell that he was also growing tense. His hands were fidgeting and his eyes were scanning the parking lot like a police car was about to pull up and arrest him any minute, but in the end he scoffed. 

-Nah. Whatever, I’m going home,- he said, walking away from the window, -I’m not in the mood for this stuff.-

-I’m serious, there was a guy there!- you replied, but the man didn’t listen, -Also, next time close the door behind you after you go out for a smoke.-

-I haven’t smoked in 3 hours,- Jake retorted, -What are you talking about now?-

-So you didn’t open the back door?- you asked after a pause, feeling a sense of chill spread in your guts, creeping up into your lungs and blocking your airway, -But it’s…?-

The door had been broken. From the outside. Someone had gotten in, and you didn’t even hear it, neither of you did. You and Jake seemed to realize the same thing at the same time, but just as you bolted towards your bag and grabbed your phone, which you had left behind the counter, Jake ran for the main door, slamming it open in a rush. 

-Wait, don’t!- you screamed, but the man didn’t listen to you and headed to his car, which was parked in a far corner of the parking lot. Before he could take more than two steps, the white van rumbled to life, pointing its headlights at him and blinding him in the process. 

-Come back inside!- you screamed, and luckily this time Jake seemed to be willing to listen to you, because as soon as he realized he was about to get run over, he threw himself back into the diner. You grabbed him by one of his wrists and dragged him with you in the kitchen, your only safe space for now. 

The kitchen wasn’t that big; the diner you worked at was just a small local business that had just enough seats for the small population of your town, therefore, there weren’t many places to hide. 

-What the fuck is happening?!- screamed Jake in a panic, but you shushed him, beginning to type the police’s number until a humming sound made you freeze on the spot, -Why did you stop?! We need to…-

-Down!- you hissed, ducking behind one of the grills and bringing Jake down with you, right as light steps echoed in the dining area which you had just left. You listened carefully, kneeling on the cold floor of the kitchen with Jake shaking beside you, one of your hands coming up to cover his mouth. 

Your ears picked on a masculine voice singing something reminding you of a lullaby, slow and gentle, melodic and raspy at the same time. The intruder was singing without a care in the world, entering the kitchen just to stop right on the threshold, lingering on the spot. You peeked your head out from the side of the fryer, trying to get a look at the man but only managing to see a pair of black boots and blue puffy pants covered in stars before your eye was caught by the hatchet he was holding in his gloved hand. Old, rusty, and clipped in many places around the edge, the weapon looked decades old, if not more. You saw the man swinging it mindlessly around, like he was playing with it, still humming that low tune with his deep voice. 

-Someone’s hiding,- he sang, mocking, -Someone’s scared!-

Struggling to keep yourself from making a sound, you hid back behind the fryer, hoping to the heavens that Jake wasn’t about to panic and rat you both out. You sent him a warning glare, but the man was too worried about stopping his hands from trembling to even look in your direction. 

-Which little mouse will have its tail chopped off today, mh?- asked the intruder, beginning to walk slowly around the kitchen, -I heard someone has been behaving badly recently. The Sun told me someone was being naughty…-

Pots and pans were knocked down from the counters, making you flinch and cover your own mouth in fear of letting a sound slip out, and with the corner of your eye, you saw Jake begin crying. 

-Isn’t that right, Jake?- the psycho laughed, beginning to move once more, -Did the Sun lie, or are you actually misbehaving?-

You grabbed one of your coworker’s hands and began to crawl away, forcing him to come along, attempting to get on the other side before you could be seen. 

-Come out, come out, Jake, we just wanna play a game with you.- The man faked disappointment, opening any cabinet big enough to contain a human and making a mess of the kitchen around him as an attempt to drive you out of hiding. A metal lid rolled all the way in front of you, stopping right in your tracks, but being too focused on trying to understand how far the intruder was, you didn’t see it, and you hit it with one of your hands, sending it against the wall with a clang.

-Shit!- you said, standing back up, -Run!-

-There you are!- screamed the intruder, immediately running after you and Jake as you scrambled up on your feet and did everything you could to get away. 

You went back into the dining area, attempting an escape through the broken back door, but just as you turned the corner you found the sun-masked man standing in your way with a metal bat in his hands. While trying to step away from him and avoid his first swing directly aimed at your head, you tripped onto Jake, falling on him and causing both of you to ruin on the ground, hitting your head against the wall in the process. Breathing heavily, you managed to back yourself into a corner, unable to see through the heavy cloud of pain blossoming in your skull as warm liquid dripped down your neck, soaking your work uniform and making you dizzy. Your every breath was painful, your throat and mouth burned dry and your heart was beating out of your chest, deafening you entirely to the screams of your coworker being slammed against the wall beside you by the man with the hatchet. You were barely conscious, enough to distinguish the sun mask kneeling in front of you to observe you better as a crunch echoed through the diner, final in the way it made Jake’s protests and cries come to an abrupt stop.

Blood began to pool on the floor next to you, dripping down the wall where the killer’s hatchet had split open his skull, and the metallic scent hit your senses like a punch in the guts. You suddenly awakened, gasping for air like a starving man, and immediately you flinched when the sun mask leaned closer to your face. You couldn’t suppress the tears pushing out of your ducts, streaming down your face in rivers, and you hiccupped when, during your struggle to push yourself back up, you slipped on the blood with your palms and found yourself face-first in it. 

The murderer with the hatchet, who was wearing a moon-themed mask and a costume matching the other maniac, let go of Jake’s body and let it slide down the wall into a sitting position right beside you, making you scream and stumble back into your corner. 

-Please don’t kill me!- you begged, out of your mind with fear, -P-Please, please, I beg you, please d-don’t kill me, I didn’t do anything w-wrong, I didn’t…-

-Oh, we know, sweetie,- cooed the sun mask, his amused voice so sickly sweet it made you want to gag, -We believe you!- 

You couldn’t understand what was happening anymore. Were you in danger? Were they going to kill you as well? Why did they kill Jake in the first place? You were going mad and couldn’t even bring yourself to think, all you wanted to do was go home and huddle yourself into a warm nest of blankets. You wanted to wake up and find that the horrifying reality you were living in was actually nothing more than a horror film-induced nightmare. 

-We believe you, really,- the sun’s voice came down to a docile whisper as one of his gloved hands brushed against your cheek, making you whine and attempt to curl away from his touch. The gloved fingers were cold—so cold. You wanted to puke. -But I’m afraid we can’t let you go away so easily after seeing what happened here.-

His thumb brushed over your parted lips, spreading a drop of blood like it was a gloss, tinting your lips of a deep crimson color, until his finger pressed on the other side of your jaw. You looked up at the man, wide-eyed, as his other huge hand also wrapped around your throat and slowly began to crush your windpipe with his strength. 

-Too bad,- commented the moon-masked man as he began to lean closer. His entire “face”, chest and arms were covered by blood and brain matter, dark and gooey, drenching his white and black top with it, -Would have loved to play a little game with you, just to pass the time, you know? Unfortunately, we still have morals.-

-Yeah,- laughed the sun, -We don’t go for innocent people usually—not unless they give us a reason to dispose of them, of course. Nothing personal, ‘kay? No hard feelings between us?-

You were choking, flailing your hands around while trying to pry his fingers off and scratching yourself in the process, and as your face began to turn red and your vision began to get spotty, your eyes ran from a masked man to the other, hoping at least one of them would have mercy on you.

-Unless,- whispered the moon to his companion, admiring the beautiful way your unconscious body lost all its strength and fell unresponsive on the ground—still far from death, as shown by the slow rise of your chest, -Unless we let this one leave to tell the tale.-

-There’s no tale, Moon,- replied Sun, sending his friend a glare while also parting his hands from your throat. In a few seconds you were probably going to regain consciousness, so he stood up and aimed his bat at your head, -We already talked about this, leaving witnesses is out of the picture. Also, do you mind doing this for me? I already got blood on my gloves, and you know how much I hate finishing them off.-

-But think better about it!- spoke Moon, leaning against the wall, knowing that Sun was not going to give you the final blow himself, -Everyone is town is already aware there’s a pair of fuckers going around killing people, but don’t you think it would make our job much easier if people really started to fear us?-

Sun let go of the bat just to stare at his companion, speechless, like he couldn’t believe the words the other man had said. 

-No, I actually think that would make our job much more difficult,- he said, and Moon scoffed, -People will begin to think we are merciful, which could not be more far from the truth.- 

-I think it would actually show everyone in this city how things work.- Moon put down his hatchet and crossed his arms over his chest, showing Sun that he was actually completely serious. -Innocents will be allowed mercy, while rulebreakers will receive the chop-chop treatment.-

Sun sighed, running one of his gloved hands through his blonde hair in exasperation. 

-First of all, don’t call murdering people “the chop-chop treatment”, that’s weird. Second, you already killed innocents before, so what’s so different now? Third, do you actually believe people will understand?- It was clear, he still didn’t trust Moon’s plan, but Sun never listened to any plan that wasn’t his own, so that didn’t count. 

-They will, if you allow them to live and warn them,- Moon nodded towards your limp body, -Also, the other times it was an accident, okay? Not everything can always go according to plan!-

You were beginning to regain consciousness, groaning on the floor and gasping for air.

-Shit, they’re awake!- Sun said, -Kill them!-

-No, we’re leaving them behind,- insisted Moon, grabbing his friend’s wrist and pulling him away from you, -Trust me just this once, it’ll work out in our favor.- 

Sun was hesitating, looking at you, slowly waking up, then at his companion. He couldn’t figure out the best course of action, so he just groaned and let himself be dragged away. 

-Alright, just this once!- he allowed, -Consider this a treat, Moon, because it won’t happen ever again!-

The duo left through the broken back door, walking into the dark parking lot and looking around for any car or passerby in sight, while you blinked your eyes open on the bloodied floor of the diner where you were mindlessly taking orders and serving customers just a few hours prior. Your whole body was in pain, your arms felt heavy and sore, while your throat felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper both on the inside and on the outside. You finally managed to completely open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, still not believing that you were still alive. What had convinced the two killers to spare you? Which one had mellowed the other into showing mercy? You couldn’t say, there were too many things you couldn’t explain to yourself, but as you turned your head around to look at Jake’s lifeless body next to you, your eyes came to an halt on his chest, where the moon—his killer—had left a plastic bag containing a bunch of colorful pills. For a second you felt dazed, until you understood that the two clowns were leaving a clear message. They didn’t like the idea of people selling drugs to highschoolers, and that was probably the same reason why you were left alive, unscathed except for the blossoming bruises the sun’s hands had left on your neck, red and angry against your skin. They had spared you because you hadn’t hurt anyone;  that explained the words the moon guy had told Jake in the kitchen and why you were still allowed to breathe, but it didn’t excuse the viciousness behind the duo’s actions.

The blood around you was expanding, soaking your hair and work shirt as well, and for some reason your first thought was that it felt incredibly warm, like there was some possibility that Jake was still breathing beside you, like his heart could still be pumping blood in his veins, like you could turn around and see him alive and well. Of course, that wasn’t the case.

You had been graced with life, and that night, on the unswept and bloody floor of a diner, you decided you were going to do everything in your power to keep things that way, in case the astral duo ever changed their minds and came back for you. They had spared you once, and you weren’t going to give them a reason to take that gift back.

[arlestial]

❝trick me once, trick me twice❞

synopsis : "A lie can destroy a relationship in a second", they’ve said. Isagi would be the first to agree, if he wasn’t lying to you so frequently.

pairing : Isagi Yoichi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : Fluff (mentions of reader wearing a dress)

word count : ~ 3800 words

author-note : Hi !! It’s been a while I haven’t written for my favorite 🫶🏻 I came back from my vacations in Austria (it’s probably the prettiest country I have ever visited, by the way) and I’m glad to write for y’all again ! Thank you for all your likes and reblogs on my last post, I was very touched :( <3 Not proofread, I’ve been writing this while my car was getting fixed 😭 Reblogs are very appreciated !! Anyways, take care of yourselves ♡

ISAGI YOICHI’s parents had always told him not to lie. And when he was a kid, he agreed; lying was a bad thing. "It could hurt people around you," his mum said once. While growing-up, he obviously disobeyed, and lied; but he tried to stick to this old mantra of his, avoiding it at all costs. Telling the truth was far more beneficial, after all. Lying would only lead to complications, fights, and an overall loss of trust. And he didn’t want that, of course. Nobody would.

When ISAGI YOICHI and you got together, he quickly became a version of himself he feared to be, a version of himself he promised to stay away from. It was surprising how easily he was lying to you, and how trustful you were, believing everything he’d say. It was utterly frustrating — not because of you being too credulous about his words — but because he wasn’t feeling any guilt at all. Why ? Since lying turned into the most beneficial, advantageous and the quickest way to obtain what he wanted. People can’t be hurt about things they aren’t aware of, right ?

ISAGI YOICHI started his scheming with the weather. At first, he tried to convince himself it wasn’t too perverse, but he quickly realized it was. When you asked him to check the weather to see if it was hot enough outside this evening to wear a dress for your date, he replied yes without even looking. He knew it’ll be chilly when you’ll both get out of the restaurant. But he lied.

You shivered when the breeze hit the bare skin of your arms, goosebumps forming immediately after Isagi opened the door of the restaurant for you to walk out. You turned to look at him.

"It’s colder than what I expected. You said it would be hot, right ?"

Isagi approached you, a frown displayed on his features — he delicately ran his hand on your arm, feeling the soft skin under his palms.

"Yeah, I thought so too. The weather app’s forecasts were wrong, I guess."

You sighed, and at this very moment, he knew you had believed him. He smiled to himself, and took off his coat, draping you with it.

"Here. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, would I, baby ?"

You hummed softly, thanking him; he even got a kiss from you as a reward for his kindness. Well, now, he could see you in his clothes and in a dress at the same time, which was definitely a success. He didn’t even have to ask you to wear his stuff anymore — everything was already planned, even when you were coming over.

"I was sure I left one of my shirts in your drawer, though."

"It’s not a big deal, babe. I have plenty I can lend you."

And now he had you, in his bed, curled up against him while you were both watching a movie, wearing his shirt. What you obviously didn’t know, was that you did have a shirt in his drawer. Such a coincidence it was under all of his…

ISAGI YOICHI’s lies didn’t stop at the weather. No, now that he was assured you believed him, he could continue his shenanigans without the fear of getting caught. You are going to eat something warm ? Wait ! You shouldn’t, you could singe your tongue. Let him take the first bite first, just to make sure it’s riskless for you to eat.

"Can I taste it ?"

"You already took a bite earlier," You replied with a lifted eye-brow, perplexed by his demand.

"Yeah, but I didn’t really enjoy the taste, you know. I was too busy wondering if it’d burn you."

"Fine. But don’t take a big bite, I’m still hungry."

"Of course, darling. I’d never."

He carefully took a bite of your food, with your fork — or chopsticks, depending on the plate — humming as he felt the sweet savour you were experiencing just before on his own tongue.

"It’s not bad."

"Right ? I love it."

He killed two birds with the same stone. Sure, he appreciated to eat, but it was irrelevant here. He ate from the same fork as you — so you two kissed indirectly. He was a bit ashamed to lie about not remembering the taste of your food. He did, but he wanted to kiss you. But who could blame him ? He just wanted to be as close as possible with you, and he couldn’t touch you directly all the time. It was a tad embarrassing to ask for kisses, too.

ISAGI YOICHI also helps you when you want to wear several necklaces at the same time. It’s plain frustrating when you try to fasten them without tying a chain to the wrong one. But don’t worry, Isagi has your back. He wouldn’t let you struggle by yourself when he has the opportunity to do it for you.

"They’re tangled, darling."

"They are ? I swear to god—", you groaned, ready to fight with the pendants around your neck.

"Turn around for me," He told you, and you did. Of course. He brushed your hair to the side, allowing himself to look at the ties of the necklaces. They weren’t tangled at all. But it wouldn’t be fun if they weren’t. He removed each one of your perfectly tied chains, before carefully fastening them again — his hands lingering on your skin longer than necessary.

"Here you go, babe," He finally muttered, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, earning a smile from you. His favorite reward.

If lying was that bad, why did it feel so good ?

[cheynovak]

Echoes and Shadows

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N           

Warnings:  Fights, gunshots, mentioning of child abuse, ... 

Side note: English isn’t my first language    

Words:  3800 

Cursive are memories

*Does not follow the boys storyline * 

--    

Autumn of 1950, Soldier Boy, the embodiment of rugged heroism and Vought-American's premier supe, was summoned to a high-rise office overlooking New York City. The meeting was brief, direct, and left a bitter taste in his mouth.  

His new assignment: train a young girl named Y/N, a fresh supe with a "girl next door" persona. To Soldier Boy, it felt like a waste of time. Why did he had to train her, there had to be other tasks for the world’s greatest hero!  

When they first met, Y/N stood in stark contrast to the grizzled Soldier Boy. She had an optimistic gleam in her eyes and a smile that seemed permanently etched on her face. She was eager to learn, but Soldier Boy couldn’t stand her naivety.  

“Listen up, kid,” he grumbled during their first training session. “Being a supe isn’t about smiles and handshakes. It’s about getting the job done. And sometimes, it gets messy. I don’t think you can handle that."  

Y/N shook her head, determination shining in her eyes. “I can handle it. I want to help people, no matter what it takes.” Soldier Boy sneered. “We’ll see about that.” He was relentless in his training.  

Every day, he pushed her to her limits, both physically and mentally. Gruelling obstacle courses, intense combat drills, and brutal sparring sessions became her new routine. Whenever she stumbled, he was there with a cutting remark.  

“Come on, sweetheart, is that the best you’ve got?” he’d taunt. “Real heroes don’t get tired. Real heroes don’t complain.” Despite his harshness, Y/N refused to give up. She endured his gruelling regimen with a quiet resilience that began to chip away at Soldier Boy’s disdain. 

She didn’t just want to be a hero; she wanted to prove herself, and her perseverance was impossible to ignore. One day, during a particularly brutal training exercise, Soldier Boy pushed her to the edge.  

She was exhausted, her body bruised and battered, but she stood her ground. “Why do you keep doing this?” he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and curiosity. “Why don’t you just quit? You’re too soft for this job.”  

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. “Because I believe in doing the right thing. Because I believe in helping people, no matter how hard it gets. And because I know I can be a hero, even if you don’t believe it.” He rolled his eyes "Sure sweetheart."  

Months passed, and Y/N grew stronger, more skilled, and more confident, and as her confidence grew so did her abilities. Y/N seemed to be able to put up a defence barrier, holding back bullets, if she concentrated good enough, she could even use it as an extra force to her punches. Besides that, she healed quick and what time would tell, didn’t age. 

She always kept that kindness in her eyes, but it was now tempered with a steely resolve. She had become everything Soldier Boy had initially doubted she could be. One evening, after a particularly grueling session, Soldier Boy handed Y/N a cold beer.  

It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. She stared at it for a moment, hesitating. "I'm only 18," she said softly, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. Soldier Boy scoffed, rolling his eyes.  

"Stop being such an uptight bitch all the time. It's just a beer." Y/N took the bottle reluctantly, the cool glass against her palm feeling unfamiliar and slightly intimidating. She hesitated, then took a small sip.  

The bitterness of the beer mirrored the bitter moments she had faced during training, the relentless drills, and Soldier Boy’s cutting remarks. They sat in silence for a while, the city’s night sounds filtering in through the open window.  

Y/N glanced at Soldier Boy, trying to decipher the man behind the harsh exterior. “Why did you agree to train me?” she asked quietly. Soldier Boy took a long swig from his own bottle before answering.  

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Vought’s orders.” He paused, his gaze distant. “But you’re not as hopeless as I thought." Y/N felt a small swell of pride at his words. Coming from Soldier Boy, it was high praise indeed.  

She took another sip, the beer tasting a little less bitter now. “Thanks,” she said with a little smile, proud of the first compliment her childhood hero gave her. Soldier Boy grunted in response. 

Present day 

Y/N had left the noise and chaos of the city far behind, finding solace in the peaceful rhythm of farm life. The fields stretched out in a patchwork of greens and browns, and the farmhouse, with its weathered wood and creaking floors, stood as a testament to a simpler, quieter existence.  

She was tending to her garden when she saw them approaching: a group of men, rough around the edges and clearly out of place in the tranquil countryside. Her guard went up immediately.  

Butcher, with his perpetual scowl, led the way, his intense gaze locking onto her. Hughie followed, looking slightly out of his element but determined. Frenchie and Kimiko were close behind, each with their own brand of intensity.  

But it was M.M., standing a bit apart from the rest, who caught her attention. There was a steadiness in his eyes, a calm that seemed at odds with the chaos that surrounded the group.  

Y/N straightened up, wiping her hands on her apron as they came to a stop in front of her. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice cold and wary. Butcher stepped forward, but M.M. gently placed a hand on his shoulder, signalling him to let M.M. handle it.  

Butcher hesitated, then nodded, stepping back with a reluctant grunt. “Miss Y/N, my name is MM, I, no we, need your help. Taking down Homelander.” Y/N crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "And why would I help you? I retired to the countryside for peace. "  

M.M. nodded, as if he understood. "I get it. Believe me, I do. But this isn’t just about revenge or taking down supes for the sake of it. We found out about a weapon, something that could kill Soldier Boy. If it can kill him, it can kill Homelander. And... it could probably kill you too. I presume you want to keep living?" 

She flinched at that, the reality of her vulnerability striking a chord she didn’t want to acknowledge. "Why should I trust you?" she asked, her voice softer but still laced with suspicion. "Because we’re trying to do the right thing," M.M. said simply.  

"We’re trying to protect people. And I think, deep down, that’s what you’ve always wanted to do too. You’ve got no reason to trust us, but we don’t have any reason to lie to you either. We need your help to find this weapon. If it exists, it’s our best shot at stopping Homelander. And if we don’t, a lot of innocent people are going to die."  

There was a long silence as Y/N weighed his words. She glanced at the other members of The Boys, reading the desperation and determination etched into their faces. Finally, she looked back at M.M., seeing in him a glimmer of the same hope and resolve that had once driven her.  

"Alright," she said at last, her voice steady. "I’ll help you. But only because I believe someone needs to stop Homelander. And if you’re lying to me, I’ll make sure you regret it." M.M. smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression.  

"Fair enough. We’re grateful for your help, Y/N." As they began to discuss their plan, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. She had tried to leave her past behind, but it seemed the fight for justice had found her once again. And this time, she was determined to see it through to the end. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the farm, Y/N found herself alone for a moment, she agreed they could stay at her place for the night. She leaned against the porch railing, enjoying the cool breeze.  

Her mind wandered back to her time as a supe, a life that seemed so distant now. Hughie approached hesitantly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He had a look of curiosity mixed with apprehension.  

"Hey," he started, a bit awkwardly. "Mind if I ask you something?" Y/N glanced at him, her guard momentarily lowered. "Sure, go ahead." Hughie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking around the porch.  

"I noticed there aren’t many pictures of you. Almost none, actually. W-why is that?" She laughed, a sound tinged with both amusement and bitterness. "Vought made sure the world would forget about me," she explained.  

"When I left, they erased almost every trace of my existence. Photos, records, everything. They didn’t want anyone to remember a supe who walked away from it all." Hughie nodded, taking in her words. "That's... harsh. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised, considering Vought."  

Y/N sighed, her eyes distant. "Yeah, that's Vought. Controlling the narrative, always." There was a pause, then Hughie asked another question that had been on his mind. "What was Soldier Boy like?" Y/N's expression softened, a mix of nostalgia and sadness crossing her face.  

"He was... complicated. A real hard-ass, tough as nails, and absolutely relentless. He could be a real jerk, too, always pushing people to their limits, addict... you name it.” A little pause, she added more a reminder to herself than to him, “But underneath all that, he was just... human."  

Hughie listened intently, sensing there was more to the story. "Did you ever get along with him?" She smiled faintly. "Eventually, yes. It took a while." Hughie looked thoughtful. "Do you think he would have been able to help us with Homelander, if he was still around?"  

Y/N shrugged, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "It's hard to say. Soldier Boy was powerful, but he had his own flaws and demons. He might have helped, or he might have made things worse. We'll never know." 

The next day they left for Russia 

The private plane hummed steadily as it cut through the night sky, its cabin dimly lit. The Boys were scattered around, each lost in their thoughts or quietly discussing their plan. Y/N sat by a window, staring out into the inky blackness. 

Butcher had a lead on the weapon that supposedly killed Soldier Boy, and they were heading to Russia to find it. As the drone of the engines filled her ears, Y/N felt herself slipping into a memory, a flashback to a mission that had happened decades ago in Russia, during her time with Soldier Boy.  

-- 

The mission was critical, a high-stakes operation deep in enemy territory. Y/N and Soldier Boy were tasked with infiltrating a heavily fortified facility to retrieve vital intelligence. The plan was simple: she would create a distraction as he got the job done.  

They had worked out the details meticulously, but plans rarely survived first contact with the enemy. Y/N had managed to draw the guards’ attention, using her powers to create enough chaos to give Soldier Boy the opening he needed. It worked, until she got shot multiple times.  

She found herself cornered in a narrow hallway, the walls lined with steel and concrete. There was no way out. Gunfire echoed around her, the sharp sound of bullets ricocheting off the walls. She took cover behind a weak force shield, her heart pounding.  

She could hear the guards closing in, their footsteps growing louder. As one hand shield her the other pushed down on her leg to stop the bleeding. "I’m trapped!" she shouted into her comm.  

"There’s no way out!" For a few agonizing moments, there was only static in response. Then, his voice crackled through. "Hold on, kid." The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as she waited, the sound of gunfire and shouting closing in.  

She fought off the guards as best she could, using her powers as offence instead to keep them at bay, but she knew she couldn't hold out much longer. Just when she thought it was over, an explosion rocked the hallway. The steel door at the end of the corridor burst open, and there he was. 

Soldier Boy, a look of fierce determination on his face. He tore through the guards with brutal efficiency, clearing a path to her. "Let’s go!" he shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. Together, they fought their way out of the facility, Soldier Boy covering her as they made their escape.  

When they finally reached the extraction point, she collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily grabbing her leg. "You okay?" he asked, kneeling beside her, his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he tied on of his belts around her leg. She nodded, looking up at him with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. "Thanks for coming back for me."  

He shrugged, but there was a softness in his eyes.  

--  

The memory faded, and Y/N found herself back on the plane, the steady hum of the engines replacing the echoes of the past. She glanced around at the faces of The Boys, each one focused on the mission ahead. She felt a renewed sense of purpose, a reminder of why she had joined them.  

M.M. caught her eye from across the cabin, giving her a reassuring nod. She returned it with a small smile. The private plane landed in a secluded airstrip in Russia under the cover of night.  

The Boys, along with Y/N, moved swiftly through the dense forest surrounding the remote facility where they believed the weapon that killed Soldier Boy was hidden. The facility loomed ahead, a monolithic structure guarded by heavily armed soldiers and state-of-the-art security systems.  

Butcher led the way, his eyes sharp and focused. "Alright, stay close and keep it quiet. We don’t want to alert the whole damn place." They approached the facility’s perimeter, M.M. disabling the security cameras and motion sensors with expert precision.  

They slipped inside, navigating the labyrinthine corridors with a mix of stealth and speed. But their luck didn’t hold for long. As they rounded a corner, they came face-to-face with a squad of Russian soldiers. For a moment, time seemed to freeze.  

Then, chaos erupted. Butcher was the first to react, launching himself at the nearest soldier with a fierce battle cry. His fists connected with brutal efficiency, taking the soldier down before he could raise his weapon.  

The sound of gunfire exploded around them as the rest of the squad sprang into action. Y/N used her powers to create a force field, deflecting bullets and giving The Boys a chance to take cover. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, her senses sharpening as the fight intensified.  

Frenchie and Kimiko moved as a deadly pair, Frenchie’s precise gunfire complemented by Kimiko’s lethal hand-to-hand combat skills. Hughie, still relatively new to the chaos of battle, ducked behind a crate, his heart pounding.  

He peeked out, firing his weapon at the soldiers, hitting one in the leg and causing him to drop his gun. M.M. took advantage of the opening, charging forward and disarming the soldier with a swift, practiced move. He turned, his eyes scanning the room for the next threat.  

"Y/N, cover us!" Butcher shouted, taking down another soldier with a vicious uppercut. Y/N nodded, focusing her energy to create a larger shield, pushing back the advancing soldiers. She could feel the strain, but she held her ground, giving The Boys the chance to regroup and counterattack.  

As the fight raged on, they moved deeper into the facility. The corridors echoed with the sounds of battle, gunfire, shouts, and the clash of metal. They fought their way through waves of soldiers, each skirmish bringing them closer to their goal.  

Finally, they reached a heavily reinforced door at the heart of the facility. Butcher and M.M. worked quickly to breach the door, using a combination of explosives and brute force. The door blew open with a deafening blast, revealing a dark, cold chamber beyond.  

They stepped inside, weapons raised, ready for anything. The room was dimly lit, the walls lined with strange, high-tech equipment. In the centre a large, metal cryogenic chamber, Butcher ripped the door off.  

"Bloody hell," Butcher muttered, lowering his weapon slightly.  

Y/N stepped forward, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and recognition. She froze for a second, unable to believe her eyes. There he was...Soldier Boy encased in the cryogenic chamber.  

The gas began to dissipate, and the machinery hissed as he torn the bands that had its grip on him. Ben’s eyes fluttered open, and he tumbled out of the container, gasping for air. "Ben!" Y/N shouted, rushing forward to catch him before he hit the ground.  

She knelt beside him, her arms around his shoulders, steadying him as he struggled to regain his balance. For a brief moment, their eyes met. She saw confusion and recognition flicker in his eyes, but it quickly turned to something darker rage.  

His expression twisted with fury, and his body began to glow. "Ben, it’s me, Y/N," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. But her words didn’t seem to reach him. The radiation started to build, the air around him crackling with energy.  

Before Y/N could react, Kimiko lunged forward, pushing her aside just as a blast of radiation erupted from Ben’s body. The force of the blast sent through the wall. The smoke and debris settled slightly, revealing Ben staggering through the chaos, his steps heavy and disoriented.  

His chest still glowed with residual energy, and he seemed to be in a daze, not fully aware of his surroundings. Ben, stop!" Y/N cried, her voice breaking with emotion. She took a step forward, her heart aching at the sight of him in such a state. but he walked away.  

As they returned to America, Y/N's mind was filled with a tumult of emotions. They had narrowly escaped Russia, but Kimiko's injuries weighed heavily on her. She watched as Butcher spoke to the team, his tone gruff and dismissive.  

"Soldier Boy isn't our problem," he said, his words cutting through the air. Y/N felt a surge of anger and frustration rise, she wanted to stay and find him. But she understood Kimiko needed help. “Why would he do that?” Hughie asked.  

Y/N’s mind drifted away.  

-- 

It was a late night, the night before the announcement of Payback as Soldier Boy's new team. Y/N had returned home after a long day of training, only to find Ben sitting on her couch, a bottle of whiskey in hand and a weary expression on his face.  

She couldn’t help but be annoyed at the sight of him. "What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, her voice mingled with concern. Ben shrugged, taking a swig from the bottle. "Figured you owed me one since I saved that pretty little ass of yours."  

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Fine. What's wrong?" As she settled onto the couch beside him, she couldn’t help but notice the sadness in his eyes, the weight of the world on his shoulders. "What’s eating you, Ben?" she asked, her tone gentle.  

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm a fucking disappointment" he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. “What?” Y/N asked before she listened as he opened up about his father’s abuse, the years of torment and neglect.  

Ben's father was a formidable presence in his life, but not in the way a father should be. He was a hard man, cold and unyielding, his words like knives cutting into Ben's fragile sense of self-worth.  

From a young age, Ben was subjected to his father's wrath, enduring physical and emotional abuse that left scars both seen and unseen. His father's beatings were brutal and frequent, leaving Ben battered and bruised, his spirit broken.  

But it was the words that cut the deepest, the constant reminders of his perceived failures, the insults hurled at him like daggers. He was called weak, a disappointment, a disgrace to the family name.  

For years, Ben internalized his father's harsh judgments, believing himself to be unworthy of love or respect. He built walls around his heart, his rough exterior a shield against the pain and rejection he had endured for so long.  

He learned to bury his emotions deep, to keep people at arm's length, lest they see the vulnerability he tried so desperately to hide.  

Y/N had seen glimpses of Ben's pain before, but it wasn't until that night, when he had opened up to her about his father, that she truly understood the depth of his suffering. She saw the scars, both physical and emotional, that his father had left behind. 

She saw the pain etched into his features, the vulnerability he rarely showed to anyone else. And in that moment, she understood him in a way she hadn’t before. "Why did you put up with it?" she asked, her voice soft. 

Ben shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "It’s not that simple, Y/N. You don’t just walk away from family, no matter how screwed up they are." Y/N reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.  

"You’ve got people who care about you, you know that right?" As their eyes met, and Y/N saw something flicker in Ben's gaze, a mix of emotions surged within her.  

But before she could fully process them, Ben leaned in, his intention clear. His lips moved towards hers, seeking solace in the warmth of the moment. Y/N's heart raced, her instincts conflicting with her emotions. As his lips hovered inches from hers, her fingers landed gently on his lips, halting his advance.  

"Ben," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with regret. "This isn't a good idea." She had thought about this moment before, wondered what it would be like to be with him. But now, with him drunk and high on who knows what, she couldn't bring herself to take advantage of him in this vulnerable state.  

It wouldn't be fair to either of them. Ben's expression shifted from longing to confusion, then to frustration. He pulled away abruptly, his eyes clouded with anger and hurt. "Fine," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Your loss."  

Y/N watched him go, her heart heavy with regret. She knew she had made the right choice, but that didn't make it any easier to see him walk away. She never wanted to hurt him. 

-- 

As she heard MM talking to Frenchie and Kimiko she looked over. Seeing how badly Kimiko was hurt.  

Knowing she needed to find Ben ASAP before he hurts anymore people. 

To be continued...

------

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[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

HEELLOOO!! Firstly,How are you? I hope you are doing good(sorry for my bad english its not my first language😭)

I absolutely loved the way you wrote hazbin hotel characters ESPECIALLY angel dust.I was wondering if you could write what would Angel Dust be like if its fallen angel!reader's first time? Reader is also insecure about their body since their wings and some parts of their body(not their face) burned when they fell and they are trying to get used to their new appereance(if you are comfortable with writing it ofc).Thank you so much!!🩷🩷

To make sweet love - Angel Dust x fallen angel!fem!reader

MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI! Hey there, hun! I'm doing well, thank you! Hope you're doing great too 💕 And don't worry about the English, haha! It's not my first language either, so I totally get it. But honestly, your English is really good, so no need to stress! 💕 I absolutely loved your request, and I apologize if it took a bit longer to get to you. I usually try to get things done ahead of time because there are days I'm not home, so I like to have things in the queue to make sure I don't forget to post. So, sometimes new requests might come after the ones already lined up. Anyway, I had such a great time working on this—it was so sweet. You have no idea how much I adore Angie, and I really wanted to make sure he's showered with extra love💕I wasn't sure if he and the reader would be in an official relationship, so I wrote them in a more casual, really close, and comfortable dynamic—kind of like dating, but not quite officially dating, if that makes sense (but i guess you can consider them together by the end of it? It's up to you really). Hope you enjoy it! 💕

Words: ~3800 TW: corruption kink, cursing, first time sex, fingering, vaginal sex, oral (female receiving)

It wasn't easy to adjust to a whole different world. After refusing to participate in the Extermination Day anymore, you were exiled into the realm of nightmares. You found yourself alone, your body bruised and torn after the flames engulfed it in your downfall. Your wings were no longer the ones of a divine saviour, worn with pride and confidence. They were burnt to ashes, only a few feathers managing to offer you a pang of comfort as you would gently wrap them around you.

But one day, gentle hands lifted you up from the ground. You were too tired to fight back, too hopeless to even care about your fate anymore. You closed your eyes and waited for the sweet death that would ease your pain, wondering what other tortures you'd have to endure at the hands of the ones you considered to be monsters. But you didn't die that day. Instead, you found yourself surrounded by the ones who were about to become your family.

Angel Dust was your saviour. You found it quite amusing when he told you his name because, for you, that's what he was - someone who saved you, who listened to your endless prayers and saved your life when you least expected.

Despite everyone's kindness, you found yourself growing more warm towards him and he seemed to enjoy being around you as well. He'd ask you to come to his room where you'd spend hours just talking. He'd ask endless questions about your life in Heaven, and you could sense that part of him wondered if things might have turned out differently for him under other circumstances.

But one day, after overhearing a conversation among sinners, your curiosity got the better of you, as you became quite curious about a topic that was a bit taboo among angels - fornication. You knew that for many people this simple thing led to their damnation, but you couldn't help but wonder - was it really that good?

Being an exorcist made you only focus on your job, not really having time to think about stuff like these. But now that you were here and had nothing else to do, you couldn't help your mind from wandering off at times.

You knew what Angel Dust did for a living and you also knew how much he actually hated it, so you tried not to ask about stuff like these too much around him, trying to take his mind off the horrible things he had to endure. But as you lay next to him, watching him scroll numerous messages from Valentino, you couldn't help it.

"Angel...?" you whispered, a dark blush on your face while you fiddled with your fingers.

"Yeah, hun? What is it?" Angel Dust said in a casual and lazy tone as he continued to scroll through his phone, reading the messages from his boss, rolling his eyes as usual as he read through them one by one.

"How... does it feel?"

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow and shifted his focus from his phone to you. "How does what feel, exactly?"

"You know..." you said, your face getting redder as seconds went by. "Fornication?"

Angel Dust chuckled and put his phone down, gently resting his arm behind his head, a look of subtle surprise spreading across his face as he looked at you. "You want me to describe sex to you, darling?"

"Yes... Is it really that good?" you calmed down a bit when he seemed comfortable with your question. After all, it wasn't really something he was ashamed to share.

"Oh, baby doll..." Angel Dust said with a smile and a laugh, clearly amused by your question. "Yeah, it's pretty damn good. Of course, it's a lot better if you actually love the person you're doing it with, but even just casual hookups feel pretty good, too."

"But... why do you hate to do it sometimes then?"

Angel Dust's expression became a bit more serious, and he sighed as he looked away from you for a moment before speaking again. "There's a big difference between doing it by choice with someone you like, and doing it because you 'have to' in order to pay the bills. Valentino makes me do it way too much and with... less desirable people."

You nuzzled against his neck, as his arms wrapped around you, the warmth of your body against his always managing to make him feel a little fuzzy. "Do you think anyone would want to do it with me?"

Angel laughed and gently ruffled your hair as he held you close, his hand wandering across your body, tracing the curves of your figure. "Oh, sweetheart, you're adorable if you think you'd have a hard time finding someone to do it with you. Any guy would be damn lucky to have you in his bed. Or gal. Either works."

You chuckled, but a hint of sadness could still be noticeable in your eyes. "I don't know... I feel like people would be... repulsed by the way my body looks..."

Angel rolled his eyes, an amused expression on his face. "And what do you mean by that, darling? Your body looks gorgeous as all hell."

"But these scars..." you said, slightly lifting up your sleeve to reveal a part of those dark memories.

His expression softened, and he gently touched the scars, tracing them with his fingers. "Darling, these scars just make you look more badass. Anyone who judges you by them isn't worth spending time on. Believe me, sweetheart, you look absolutely gorgeous."

You smiled softly at his compliments. He always lifted you up when you felt bad about your appearance. "And like... does it hurt when you do it... the first time, I mean?"

"That depends on a couple of things, darling..." He said in a slightly more playful tone, gently tracing his fingers across your skin. "If the person you're with is careful and takes their time, probably not. If they're too rough and hasty, it could hurt like hell."

"They're supposed to be someone... you trust then, right?"

Angel Dust nodded and gently moved his hand to caress your cheek. "Yeah, it's supposed to be someone you trust. Someone who cares about you, who'll be gentle and take good care of you, y'know?"

"Angel... Would you want to..." you began, your face burning as words came out of your mouth. "... you know..."

Angel Dust's expression changed to surprise as he looked at you. He wasn't expecting you to ask such a thing, not from you. He gave you a sly smile as he began to gently move his hand down your body. "Are you serious, darling?"

Your eyes widened as you moved away from him. "I... I'm sorry... I didn't want to make it weird..."

Hi's expression softened and he gently pulled you back towards him, wrapping his arms around you. "No, no, you didn't make it weird, darling. I'm just... I'm surprised, that's all." He let out a little laugh and looked at you with a smile. "Are you sure you want this, hun?"

"Well... you said it has to be with someone I trust... And I trust you, Angel." you caressed his hand, gently tracing your fingers against his. He let out a long sigh and looked at you, his eyes travelling down your figure. He was torn; on one hand, a part of him always wanted to do it with you. You made him feel safe and he couldn't help but want to make you feel good, but he never told you anything for fear of making you feel pressured. On the other hand, he was afraid he might destroy this sweet little thing that you two had. It was so innocent and nice and only the thought of him messing things up and you not wanting to talk to him anymore was too big of a risk for him.

He gently pressed his forehead against yours, looking you in the eyes as he spoke. "We can do it, darling. On one condition." You watched him with big eyes, curious of what he was about to say. "If at any point you want to stop, you tell me, ok?"

You smiled, placing a small kiss on his lips. "You too, Angel."

He chuckled and returned the kiss, gently caressing your skin with his fingers. He slowly moved against you and pinned you down on the bed, hovering over you with a small smirk on his face.

"I'll be fine, beautiful..." he said in a playful tone, his hand gently tracing down your body down to your hips. "Now, there's something else I need to ask you, darling. How much experience do you have, exactly? Like... I get that you never had sex, but you must've done things, right?"

"No... not really."

Angel Dust's eyebrows rose, but he didn't lose the smile on his face. "So you've never found any freaky angel up there, huh? Not even had fun by yourself?" You shook your head, feeling a bit embarrassed by your lack of experience.

He chuckled and gently brushed a few hairs out of your face. "Darling, you're way too innocent for your own good, you know that?" he leaned down, placing soft kisses on your neck that sent tingles down your spine. "You know... I'd lie if I said I didn't... fantasize about this moment from time to time..."

"R-Really?" you asked, as his lips softly caressed the skin.

"Mhm..." Angel Dust hummed as he started gently nipping your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone. "The thought of seeing someone so pure like you do such things... Kinky."

His fingers intertwined with yours, gently squeezing your hands as his other two caressed your body. His hand slipped underneath your shirt, the warm touch making you tremble in excitement. His fingers quickly found your nipple.

"No bra today, sweetheart?" It pleased him how much you trusted him and allowed him to touch your body like this, and the feeling of your chest, completely naked under your shirt, gave him a certain... satisfaction.

"Ah~ fu- Angel!" you gasped when he grabbed your hardened nipple, gently playing with it.

Angel Dust let out a little laugh, watching your every reaction as he touched you. The way you gasped and squirmed, your body hot against his, it all made his chest fill with excitement. "You're so sensitive, darling... I can't wait to see how you'll react to everything that's coming~"

He pulled away from your body, gently raising your shirt as his eyes looked for any sign that you wanted to stop. You looked away as he revealed your boobs. You two were close, yes, but you always hid your body, so the fact that he's seeing it for the first time made you a bit self-aware.

"Don't look away, darling... You're beautiful," he said, his eyes admiring your body. "I want to see every part of you." He leaned down, his lips crashing into yours, as his hold on you grew tighter, his tongue gently sliding into your mouth.

He took your hands, placing them around his body, your fingers brushing against his soft fur, tugging it slightly. A soft moan slipped from Angel's mouth against yours as he felt your touch, sending waves of pleasure through him. He pulled you closer to him, his body pressing against yours, and you felt him getting excited against your skin.

He pulled away from your mouth and went lower, placing kisses along the path. He gently licked one of your nipples, a soft gasp escaping you. He was enjoying every reaction you gave, the way you squirmed and trembled, it made him want to keep going, to keep teasing you and make you want more. He harshly started to suck on your nipple, as his other hand played with the other. You arched your back into his touch, feeling yourself getting hotter with every moment.

"Angel... Please... I want more!" you pleaded as you felt yourself getting wetter with every moment. You were desperate to feel some pressure. You needed this.

"Patience, darling... You'll get what you want, just wait a little longer~" he said in a teasing tone, enjoying how you were at his mercy. You let out a desperate scoff and you moved your leg slightly, touching his clothed hard cock. He let out a soft gasp, his eyes snapping back to you, his expression a mix of surprise and excitement. "Mmm... now that's a good girl. Getting impatient, are we?" he smirked, his expression growing more sly as he spoke. "Alrighty then. I guess we can skip a few steps," he said and traced the waistband of your pants. "You alright, babe?"

"Yes, Angel. Please! I want this!"

Angel Dust smiled, his heart fluttering slightly as you begged him for it, your voice pleading and desperate. "Okay then, darling..." he said, gently starting to undo the buttons of your pants. "I'll give you what you want, don't worry." He slowly caressed your legs, looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his face. "You ready, sweetheart?" he said, his eyes full of excitement. You nodded, your heart beating like crazy. "Alright. You tell me if you want me to stop." Gently, he took down your panties, his eyes fixed on your pussy, your juices shining in the dim light of the room.

He placed your legs on his shoulders, lowering himself, his breath hot against your skin. You gasped when his mouth attached to your heat, his tongue making a mess of you. Your back was arched, as your hands tightly grabbed at his hair, his arms strongly keeping you in place.

"Oh, shit! Angel- Fuck, yes!"

Angel Dust smirked against you as he heard you swear, your curses making his heart pound as he continued to use his tongue. "Mmm, honey... you taste so good, no wonder I have a sweet tooth~"

His tongue moved in circles on your clit, as you lost yourself in pleasure. The sensation was electrifying in your body, sending waves of pleasure that left you shaken. You felt his finger slowly entering you.

"Ah, fuck…" you breathed, your body gradually adjusting to being spread, even though it wasn't much.

"Does it hurt?" Angel asked, his movements measured and careful.

"No. Don’t stop, please…" you whispered, and he began to move just a bit faster, his tongue and finger working together in perfect rhythm. The sensation was intense, and as you felt another finger trying to enter, there was a slight discomfort. But with how wet and needy you were, it only made you more eager.

"Jeez, are you already close?" he murmured, noticing how your body reacted, tightening around his fingers as they slid in and out, your juices making everything slick.

You couldn't find the words to answer, too focused on the way his fingers moved inside you, each drag against your sensitive walls sending shivers through you. He kept going, the knot in your stomach winding tighter with every passing second. Just as you were about to unravel, he pulled back, sensing how close you were.

"Woah! Slow down, honey," he said with a soft chuckle, pulling away and leaving you with a whimper of frustration.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked, feeling your orgasm fading slowly as you tried to regulate your breathing. He came closer, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Listen, toots. If you want me to keep going, I need you to be just as horny as you are right now. Finishing now can make you a bit... sensitive and it might hurt more." he explained, running a hand through your hair. "But if you're not ready for this, we can finish this up and then grab a snack and watch something." You let out a sigh, looking at him and you could tell he was concerned, not wanting to push you too far too quickly. "It's your call, baby! Just tell me."

You cupped his face, kissing him softly. "I want you, Angel... So, do as you know it's best." Angel Dust smiled against your lips, feeling your body still shiver slightly in his grip. He let out a soft chuckle and looked down at you.

"Alright, darling... just relax. I'll take good care of you, I promise. Just let me know if it gets too much, alright?" You nodded and he kissed your forehead again, getting up to undress.

You watched as the clothes gracefully fell off his body. You always admired the way he looked as he never missed a chance to show you as much as he could. But this time it felt different. It felt intimate. It felt right.

He noticed the way your eyes locked on the tent in his boxers, a bit taken aback by how big it was. He approached you, gently cupping your face. "Hey, I know it might seem scary to... see a dick for the first time." he chuckled. "You don't have to continue if you don't feel like it."

"I do! It's just... I'm a bit nervous, that's all." you smiled, caressing back his hands.

"It's okay to be nervous, darling. You have nothing to worry about, alright? I'll be gentle... Just trust me." He kissed your lips as you both leaned back on the bed, his arms gently propping himself up above you. His hands caressed your body, running down your sides, feeling the softness of your skin as you lay beneath him.

He lowered his hand down to your core, his fingers coating themselves in your wetness. You moaned in his mouth as his long finger entered you once again, the motion a bit faster than earlier. His lips brushed against yours, his thumb drawing circles on your clit as you felt yourself getting close again.

Feeling you getting tighter, he pulled back, taking off his boxers. Before you could realise what was happening, he crashed his lips against yours again, as you felt something brush against your entrance.

"You ok, honey?" he asked, drenching the tip of his penis in your juices.

"Yes. I want it, Angel! Trust me!" you said, feeling a bit nervous, but not regretting any moment of it.

"I do, baby," he said and pressed his tip inside of you, slowly. With slow movements, he gradually entered, pulling out from time to time and entering a bit more after. You hissed at the stinging sensation but felt a bit more calm when you realised it was not as bad as you thought it would be. You kept a hand on his chest, slowly pressing when the stinging sensation became too much, and he would immediately pull back.

With one hand he started rubbing your clit, his movements less painful as the pleasure made you relax more. He kissed you as soft whimpers filled the room. "It's almost in, baby. You're taking me so well." His praise sent a tingle in your stomach, as his dick came in and out of you.

The sensation of fullness combined with the way his fingers teased your clit was surprisingly arousing. Your body responded eagerly, your juices flowing freely around him, as he bottomed out inside you

You looked at each other, desire visible in your eyes. There was something so special about this, so erotic, but pure at the same time. Angel's heart was beating loudly, as his hands roamed through your hair. It felt like he didn't only stop to give you time to adjust, but as if he wanted to spend some more time like this, in this moment.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, allowing you to feel every inch of him. You moaned in unison with each movement, his pace on your clit quickening.

Without realizing it, his thrusts deepened, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He froze, concern flashing in his eyes, but you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to continue.

"Angel, please, don't stop!" you said as his pace fastened, the knot in your stomach getting tighter with every move.

"Shit, toots... You're a freaky one, ya knew that?" he said in between grunts, his breath tickling the skin of your neck. The feeling of his cock brushing against that sweet spot over and over again shot a strong, electrifying wave of pleasure through you, a moan escaping his mouth as you got painfully tight around him, your body trembling at the sudden feeling.

With a few deep thrusts, he finished inside of you with a guttural growl, his body collapsing on top of yours as he breathed deeply. He looked down at you, a lazy smile on his face. "You okay, darling? I didn't hurt you, right?" he asked softly, his breathing slowly steadying.

You hugged him tightly. "I love you, Anthony..." you whispered, hiding your face in his fur. Angel Dust's heart practically melted at your words, the way you said his real name always made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer against him, his face nuzzling in your hair.

"I love you too, sweetheart. So, so damn much," he replied, his voice a soft whisper against your ear.

"So... can we do it again?" you asked, as you rested your head on Angel's chest, his breathing still heavy.

"Toots... it's been the fifth round already... Aren't you tired?" he said, a soft, exhausted smile on his face.

"Nope," you said, making a pop sound at the end. "Cherri told me about a sex position and I want to try it."

Angel Dust let out a laugh and let his head drop onto the pillow, his eyes locked with yours. "Oh my god, you are unbelievable. How much stamina do you have, darling?" he said, slightly shaking his head.

"I'm an angel so... a lot."

Angel Dust chuckled at your reply and rolled his eyes playfully. "Of course... of course you are." He let out a sigh and looked at you for a moment, trying to think. "Alright, tell me about this position."

Your smile grew wider as you started to explain this new idea, but he wasn't fully listening. He got lost as his eyes adoringly looked at you. Yes, you became a little sex gremlin since your body got used to it, but it was the kind of sex he always craved - it was loving, safe, and warm. It made him feel special, wanted for more than his body.

Someone like him, who had nothing to live for anymore, finally found a reason. A reason to fight through the miserable life that he was cursed to have for eternity. And he wasn't willing to lose it.

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail

[2baabbies]

🖤 Obsessed (Hyunjin x Reader) 🖤

Pairings: established relationship hyunjin x reader

Words: 3800

Summary: Hyunjin’s jealous streak ends with you finding him in a compromising position. AKA: in your bed, masturbating while wearing your shirt.

(somewhat inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song by the same name; quote at the beginning also from this song)

Fluff + Smut + Humour

afab + fem!reader

CWs: jealousy (but make it cute and silly), reader is trying to make hyunjin jealous but only because it makes them both horny (and he’s a drama queen), he’s only a bit insecure, the point of contention is a big shirt but reader’s weight is not described (aka this fic is not limited to any one body size), reader and hyunjin have exes, reader lets hyunjin make assumptions that she teases him about later

Smut Tags: lots of teasing!!, (subtle) subby!hyune x dom!reader, intercourse (peanits in vagina), safe sex/use of condom, a bit of rough sex/uncomfortable position, reader has a kink for hyunjin’s desperation, begging, hair pulling, overstim, slight dumbification of reader, slightly pervy!hyune (smelling your clothes), hyunjin masturbates in your shirt (described in detail), little bit of voyeurism, bit of cum eating

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

‘And I know you love me, and I know it's crazy

But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her

You both have moved on, you don't even talk

But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby’

It takes Hyunjin’s brain a second to register that something is wrong, and a second after that to actually take a look at himself and attempt to decipher what feels so off. He is still buffering when you return to your bedroom. You giggle at his bedhead and the cute expression on his face as he grabs the hem of his shirt and holds it up. He thought he had grabbed his white tshirt off the floor, and in his morning daze he had actually grabbed one of yours that you were too lazy to throw in the morning laundry. The graphic tee is far too big on him, even hanging off his shoulder, but you get a good look at the boxers he pulled on seconds before thanks to his hands lifting it up above his stomach. He drops the material and it falls down over his lap, unfortunately covering his soft tummy and pale thighs. He looks up then blinks away his sleep as you enter with a basket of clean laundry. You hold up his shirt and you giggle again at his sleepy smile.

“Looking for this?”

He nods and watches you drop the basket on the bed. You pull each freshly washed garment out for him and he shuffles over to loop his arms around your waist from behind.

“You let me sleep in…”

“You wouldn’t get up, sleeping beauty.”

He huffs and pecks the nape of your neck.

“You didn’t try hard enough…”

“Mhm, sure. You look cute in that.”

You admire him over your shoulder as he leans back and plucks the baggy fabric between his fingers.

“It doesn’t fit me…”

“I think that’s where the cuteness comes in.”

“I’m always cute…”

“That… I don’t disagree with that.”

He chuckles and turns you around so he can properly embrace you. You smile at him and nudge your noses together with a fond smile. He hums and nuzzles back gently, drawing your body tight to his with a content sigh.

“It’s so cozy… How come I hardly see you wearing it?”

You fail to realize at first that he is back to talking about the shirt, and take a moment of silence to contemplate his question.

“I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty, I try to put something cleaner on when I know you’re coming over.”

You both laugh at your honesty.

“It’s really soft.”

“Well, I’d offer to buy you one but I don’t know where it came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone left it over a while ago…”

You do not regret the words when they leave your mouth, but you can do little to fight your smirk as Hyunjin’s lips draw into a tight line. He then purses his lips and puffs his cheeks in a dramatic pout.

“Who?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. Tell me who.”

You roll your eyes. Hyunjin was privy to the history of all your exes, situationships, and sexual escapades. You knew about his too. It had been relieving to be able to talk so candidly about your experiences with him, and it definitely allowed the two of you to become close early on in your relationship. There was something therapeutic about snuggling with your lover and bitching about the ones that let you down.

It did not, however, curb Hyunjin’s jealousy in the slightest. He knew their names, how long you were together, if you still talked, he even knew where some of them lived and worked. It would be alarming if you had not both offered all that information to each other willingly. And you knew, ultimately, Hyunjin would never restrict you from having a friendship with any of the exes you still talked to. Although you would never admit it, you treated his jealousy as a testament of his love. He only cared so much because he cared about you. Besides, it was a natural emotion, and the fact that he was willing to  be so emotionally available did more for you than anything your exes ever did.

“We don’t even talk anymore, Hyune. I don’t think she’s even in this country.”

“She. She. Oh god, I know who it is.”

“No, you don’t-”

He falls out of your arms and to the bed with a heavy thud, wailing incoherently as you observe his theatrics.

“She’s the worst!”

“Well, that’s why we’re not friends anymore…”

He suddenly thrashes and tears the shirt off with an animalistic grunt. You cock your eyebrow up and watch him roll around in vain when it gets stuck on his chin. He manages to pull it off and whips it at the floor, breathless after his performance.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I can’t believe you let me wear her shirt.”

You scoff.

“Firstly, you’re the one that put it on. Secondly, it’s my shirt. She left it. Finders keepers.”

“I feel dirty.”

“You’re fine. And overreacting.”

You kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl up so you are sitting in his lap. He huffs and looks at you with a miserable expression.

“Why did you keep her shirt?”

“Because it’s a nice shirt, and I like it.”

“Get rid of it.”

“I will not. But, I’ll wear it less if that makes you feel better.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

You giggle.

“You’re being silly, Hyune.”

He looks away pointedly and you guide him back to face you by gripping his jaw. He swallows thickly as you, slowly, lean in to hover your face over his. You feel his shuddery breath on your lips, and bite down seductively to muffle the satisfied hum you release when you feel him hardening beneath you. He glares and scrunches his face with faux distaste as you dance your fingers up his stomach, then graze your thumb over one of his nipples. He shivers and finally lets the act drop, his annoyance melting into arousal as you peck shyly at his lips.

“Hyune,” You purr, “It’s okay if you’re jealous.”

“I-I know…”

You reward his cooperation with a teasing lick into his mouth, and carefully circle his nipple with light pressure. He whines and bucks up against you.

“You know how special you are to me. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too,” He whimpers.

You respond with a sultry chuckle and begin stripping off your clothes.

There was a part of you that adored Hyunjin’s jealousy. It made him whiny, and needier for your affection. You would deny it vehemently if he ever called you out on it, but his desperation for your validation could have you dripping in seconds. So, it was a bit of a game between you. For the majority of the following week, Hyunjin would pretend he was unbothered when he saw you wearing that shirt. In turn, you would pretend that you were accidentally choosing it over all your other pajama options. While it may have been a bit unfair- or even mean- on your part to watch him squirm and stifle his complaints each time you pulled it on, it did not weigh on your conscience. You love each other; you trust he will let you know when his limit has been met.

And he does.

“Take it off.”

“Ha-ah,” Your eyes roll as you mumble back, “Hn?”

Your mind is fuzzy. Hyunjin has your ankles hooked over his shoulders and his cock pressed deep inside you. Your arms are limp above your head, fists clenching in the pillow supporting you. You tilt your head back with a moan as his hips rock against the back of your thighs in a steady rhythm.

“Baby, take it off, please.”

His fingers are curled in the hem of the white shirt, lifting it up as he ruts himself into your warmth. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head back to face him. You moan as you take in his heady groans and pleading eyes. His plump lips are parted to exhale a whine and his cheeks are impossibly flushed. You clench when he makes another pathetic noise and shoves his face into your neck. You smirk as your shirt gets rucked up to your breasts.

“I-I’m cold, Hyune.”

“Please. Please, please, please.”

He draws back and now you whine as his movements falter. 

“Hyunjin?”

He raises his head and pouts, eyes teary as he looks at you. You shudder, feeling your heat gush at the sight. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and your mind is scrambled with the intent to chase that high. You roll your hips and he gives a shaky thrust in return.

“Don’t make me beg, darling. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Mhm! M’okay, take it- take it off, Hyune.”

His touch is deft as you lift your arms and he slips the shirt over your head. He throws it behind him, then draws a gasp from you when he repositions himself above you. Your mouth is agape in pleasure when he starts thrusting again, legs folded to your chest as he plows you into the mattress. You are thankful for the pillow, otherwise your head would be banging against the headboard. His tip almost kisses your cervix and you let out a breathless wail as humps into you, following each precise thrust with steadily rising groans. You reach up to thread your fingers in his hair and bring him in for a kiss. Your toes curl as his body melts into yours, and you finally reach your climax. You share more consuming kisses as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Hyunjin is soon following you, getting sloppier in his movements as his pleasure increases. He leans away, just enough to let you catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the strain, and now from the overstimulation of his cock filling your fluttering cunt. He shakes his head when stray hairs stick to his skin and fall into his eyes, and you lovingly tuck each one out of the way.

“Hyune…”

“G-Good?”

“Mhm,” You nod and quiver, “M’good. Can’t think.”

He laughs and leans down to peck your lips. For a moment it looks like he has a quip lined up, but he just snuggles his head into your chest and lets out a ruined moan. You giggle as his thrusts stutter, then he lazily rolls his hips into you with a relieved hum. You let him ride out his release, kissing the crown of his head and playing with his hair as he lets out little moans and sighs of pleasure. When he finally stills, you reach between your bodies and gently push on his chest.

“Ah-ahn…”

“Hyune, you’re squishing me.”

“Hah, sorry.”

He groggily rises and lets your legs fall out of their tense position. You help him slip off the condom and discard it in the trash bin beside your bed. Your legs are numb, and you are a little shuddery all over from the lingering overstimulation. Hyunjin helps you get comfortable then melts into your waiting arms. You resume kissing and caressing him slowly as he tucks the two of you under the blanket and settles on top of you. He rubs his dumpling cheek over your heart and smiles when you giggle at him.

“I love you,” He murmurs, “You okay?”

You nod.

“I’m good, baby. I love you, too. You always make me feel so good.”

“Mhm, I’m sorry I was rough.”

Hyunjin massages your hips and gently squeezes your thighs. You hum and brush your fingers through his hair, tidying his mussed locks and ridding it of tangles.

“You don’t have to be sorry, babe. I loved it. You were perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

He leans up to share a sweet kiss, stroking your cheek as your lips meld together. When you part, he pecks your chin then lets his lips trail down your neck. Your eyes flutter and you exhale peacefully as exhaustion overtakes you. Still, you stay awake when he brushes his lips over your ear and whispers to you.

“Thank you, for taking it off.”

“Mhm. Jealous baby.”

He whines at your teasing tone.

“You’re so mean.”

“And you’re ridiculous,” You murmur as you drift off, “But I still love you. You’re my favourite boy. My one and only.”

He nods and pecks your cheek. “I know. You’re my one and only, too, baby.”

The morning arrives peacefully. You wake up before your alarm, and enjoy a few minutes of admiring Hyunjin’s sleeping visage before you slip out of bed to get ready for the day. He is still sleeping after you finish your routine, completely undisturbed as you get dressed and check your phone. You still have some time before you have to go, so you sit beside him on the bed and card your fingers through his hair as you scroll through your phone. He stirs and looks up at you blearily when you run your thumb down the bridge of his nose.

“Mh?”

“Good morning, baby,” You peck his forehead, “I have to go out. I have a couple errands to run. I won’t be long, okay?”

“Mhhm.”

You tuck him in and kiss his temple as he nuzzles his face into a pillow. You giggle and leave with a fond smile.

Hyunjin wakes later, before you return, and pats the empty space beside him until he realizes you are not there. He rolls onto his back to look around and swipes a hand over his face as he fights his disorientation. Eventually, he vaguely remembers you kissing him goodbye earlier when he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Unfortunately for him, he has no clue when that was or how much longer it will be until you get home. He lets out a frustrated sigh for no one but himself and eases himself out of bed. He pulls on his boxers, finding them among the pile of other clothes hastily discarded when the two of you fell into bed the night before, and shuffles to the bathroom.

He is a bit more awake when he returns to your bedroom, and pauses as it registers in his vision. White fabric, carelessly casted to the floor, sitting atop your panties and his hoodie. He scoffs at it, so it will know how he disapproves of it gracing his presence, and crosses the room to pick it up off the floor. He had not cared to look at the white tee any more closely once the idea of you wearing someone else’s clothes crossed his mine, but he is drawn to dissecting it now. He does not recognize the print on the front, some band or characters you never mentioned, but he does admire it a bit now. Ultimately, he understands why you kept the shirt on an objective level. It is nice, albeit a little worn, and there is nothing aesthetic-wise that he dislikes about it.

Hesitantly, he toys with it before bringing it to his nose. He gives a tentative sniff as he recalls your words from a week ago. I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty. The shirt definitely did not smell like fresh laundry, or whatever he was expecting it to smell like. It smells like you. He cannot place it, there is a mix of familiar smells invading his senses; the remnants of your body wash, a hint of the candle you light after stressful days, the trace of your hot scent that drives him crazy during your intimate moments. His eyelids flutter and he groans, pressing the fabric to his nose and inhaling deeper. He recalls how comfortable the shirt was to wear before he learned of its origins, and begrudgingly pulls it on before crawling back in bed.

Missing you is torture for him during the rare moments he wakes up alone in your bed, but wearing your shirt settles his loneliness for a bit. That is, until he gets restless again. He could go find his phone, wherever he abandoned it when you two started getting handsy the night before, but he is already so comfortable under the covers. The only thing missing is you. He pulls the collar up over his nose and breathes in, momentarily subdued by the illusion of being enveloped by you. Then he remembers the vision of you from last night, wearing this same shirt and taking him so dutifully in this same bed. He groans and curses himself, reaching down to palm over his growing erection. The shirt, still too big for him, adds an extra obstacle between him and relief as he strokes himself leisurely. He shucks his boxers off under the blanket and reaches under the shirt to grasp his cock firmly. He groans and gives himself a rough squeeze before jerking himself slowly.

One hand holds the shirt up over his nose while the other roams over his length. He wishes it was you. He bucks his hips up at the thought of you touching him and puffs sharply into the shirt. He squirms, the tip of his cock rubs against the inside of the shirt with every stroke and creates a delicious amount of friction. It is so soft, gliding against him without any discomfort and very little resistance. His hips jump again and he has to clutch the base of his cock to stop himself from climaxing too quickly. He discovers that he can taste your scent stronger if he inhales through his mouth, and before too long is panting desperately as he thrusts into his fist. He is too hot now, and kicks off the blanket before resuming the rhythm of sucking in deep breaths while fucking into his own hand.

He is almost there now, possibly on the verge of cumming faster than any other time he has touched himself. He watches his cock strain under the shirt through his eyelashes, and whines when his precum begins wetting a spot in the white fabric. It sticks to him now, turning a bit translucent where his arousal beads through the material. His eyes pinch shut and he controls himself again. He does not want to finish so quickly. This feeling of pleasure is new to him, being smothered in your scent and comfort with the perfect sensation helping him get off. The only thing that might compare is actually getting to fuck you, but this is so different.

He cannot edge himself any longer, the pleasure that has been pooling has become too much. He begins jerking himself faster, ignoring the dry scrape of his unlubed palm on his shaft. He collects some of his precum and uses that to ease his motions. It helps just enough and allows him to reach his climax without further hesitation. He cries out and pants out a series of whimpering moans as his cum shoots out in thick spurts.

You lean in the doorway, watching his release soak through the fabric and further dampen the spot over his cock. You had been watching since he kicked the blanket away. In fact, you knew what he was doing when you entered the apartment and heard his soft moans ringing out in the silence. What you had not expected was walking in on the scene before you- but you were far from disappointed. You let Hyunjin recover a bit before speaking up. He tugs down the collar of the shirt and heaves in a much needed breath.

“I thought you didn’t like that shirt?”

He jumps and throws his palm over his face.

“Fuck.”

You laugh as his other hand slips guiltily out from under the shirt and falls limp on the bed, a bit of his cum sticking between his fingers. You saunter over to the bed, leaning in to run your hand up the inside of his leg as you walk up alongside him. He shivers and peeks at you through his fingers, chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation. Your hand takes his wrist from where it lies on the bed, you hold him firmly as you ease down to straddle his lap. You hold up his messy fingers, almost in admiration, and meet his gaze as you suck them into your mouth. He groans and lets his other hand drop so he can watch you lap each one clean. Your lip twitches as you guide his fingers over your lips, smearing your spit as you lead him to cup your cheek.

“Well?”

“Huh? Oh, the shirt, right,” You giggle and silently urge him to reply, “I-It’s alright. I still don’t like it.”

“Really? You seem to like it, at least a little bit.”

You pry the shirt up from where it has begun to stick to his cock and he hisses. You tilt your head and run your thumb over the patch of soiled fabric thoughtfully.

“O-Only because it smells like you.”

“Oh? Is that it? Are you still jealous?”

Hyunjin sets his jaw and avoids your gaze for a moment as he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know…”

“Be honest, Hyune.”

His eyes flick shyly to yours.

“It’s not easy just to… not be jealous. You know that.”

“Mhm…”

You move up his lap, not caring when you settle onto the dirty patch or his oversensitive cock. He watches with a worried frown as you brace your hands on either side of his head and lean over him.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Yes,” He breathes, looking up at you expectantly.

“You’re jealous over someone who I never had feelings for, and who never got to touch me.”

His eyes widen then narrow.

“But, y-you said your ex left it!”

“Ah-ah- I said ‘someone’ left it behind. You were the one who assumed I was ever into that person.”

He puffs his cheeks and glares softly.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t correct you. You shouldn’t have assumed you knew who forgot it.”

“You set me up.”

You laugh.

“I set you up? For what? To catch you jerking off in my shirt?”

“Yes!”

Your laughter intensifies and Hyunjin fights his smile. He looks embarrassed, face still flushed, but the twinkle in his eye as you become breathless above him seems to signify his ease with the circumstances. You sigh happily and lean down to reward him with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returns.

“How about we get you clean, hm?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You giggle and tug at the shirt playfully.

“And I’ll get our shirt washed up.”

“Yeah, you let it go too long. It’s way too dirty to wear now.”

You snort.

“Okay, actually, you can wash your own messes.”

He grins.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Hyune.”