#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?

[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

[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)

[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.

[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

[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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[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.”

[potatomountain]

Pairing: Song Mingi x afab reader

Word Count: 3800

Warnings: cursing, smut, one night stand

Genre: enemies to lovers, one night stand

Summary: Public parties weren't your thing but for your best friend you could tolerate a dance club- even go home with someone for the night. Mingi was determined to make sure that was him, and after a little push from a hot stranger, you decided just for tonight you would give him a shot.

A/N: This was my third attempt, as I first tried a mingi/yeosang x reader enemies to lovers but i adore them as sweet beans too much so i stuck with the best puppy boy- Song Mingi. This is for you @mingsolo as you were right to put me on the suspect list as your secret admirer lol. Please melt like I did <3 Thanks!!!

This was done as a network event for @pirateeznet

update: there is now a part 2! "Two Just For You"

People do anything for their best friends, including putting up with their boyfriend’s douchebag friends. You swore up and down that you were going to have a good time tonight even if that meant being nice to the other half of the partygoers.

It was your best friend’s birthday, and of course she wanted to spend it with her boyfriend of a year now, Wooyoung. Both of them were hyper and outgoing, and so into each other it was almost nauseating. You were what she called the scary dog friend with resting bitch face until you liked someone. That was all you were to Wooyoung’s friends, but he still wanted you there at the party he planned.

Party at a dance club, which also wasn’t your thing- but it was hers. You did your best to make the most of it however, dressed to the nines and intent of having a good night. If that meant getting somewhat wasted and fucking a stranger then so be it.

Now if only the thorn in your side, Song Mingi, would let you do just that. Your friend would swear up and down that he was a good guy, that he was sweet, but considering your few interactions with him, his very presence left a bad taste in your mouth. And by the sneers he often gave you, the feeling was mutual. Somehow, for some reason, he had made it his mission to see your plan for the night fail.

Every man you found yourself dancing with or flirting with, Mingi was right there, butting his nose in and saying something that would scare the man off. Weird habits, or just spouting some obscene lie about you that had the man running off.

Three or four drinks in, and quite the cutie was chatting it up with you at the bar. Slight aussie accent, tattoos, open shirt- you were more than a little interested. But of course the tall man in his red cap slipped into the seat next to you, leaning in a bit closer and grabbing your drink out of your hands. Shocked, you watched him sniff your drink before taking a sip, your jaw dropping. “Mingi!” “That’s my name.” Licking his lips he handed you back the drink, giving the man in front of you side eye. “Newest conquest?” Scoffing, you pushed him away. “Seriously? Can I not have a chat with a hot guy in peace? Is it really your intent to ruin my night?” You offered the tatted dreamboat a smile, hoping he wouldn’t run off like the rest. “Sorry about him, he’s a friend of a friend please don’t pay him no mind.” He and Mingi seemed to look each other over before he got comfortable again, pointing to your glass. “Let me get you a new one then and we can continue our conversation? Or we can talk about your ‘hot guy’ comment?” With a smirk he waved the bartender over, leaving you a little flustered. You had said that in the moment, too heated about Mingi’s constant interruptions.

Apparently it worked in your favor as you handed your current drink over to Mingi. “You can have this now. Go away.” You attempted to shoo him but he didn’t budge, instead pouting out his thick bottom lip and watching you from under the cap. “What?” “You really are insisting on this?” He muttered out while the other was busy with the bartender.

You didn’t get why he was being pouty about this, every time the two of you interacted it became some playful and childish argument. You couldn’t think of any reason why he would have any interest in you. And your only interest in him had been that he was attractive. Sharp eyes, pouty lips, deep voice… You shook your head and sneered your upper lip at him. “What I do is none of your business Mingi. Why don’t you go find someone to take home for tonight?”

Mingi stared you down, lips parting and shutting several times before he sighed and looked away. “I mean, I can always leave you two alone?” The aussie accent drew your attention back to the hottie that was your target. “This doesn’t exactly look like just a friend of a friend.” He still offered the new drink and you took it, downing it rather quickly.

“That’s all he is. But if he keeps this up he’s going to be a thorn in my side as well.” You made an effort to avoid Mingi now, leaning against the bar top and towards the man that really was drool worthy. Why hadn’t he run off yet? With Mingi acting like this? Instead he laughed, watching Mingi sulk off over the brim of his own drink. “I think you hurt his feelings.” “So? He’s trying to ruin my night.” “Or make it a good one for you?”

“And how would he be doing that if he is chasing off, on purpose, any guy I have even a little bit of interest in, hm?” You rolled your eyes before finishing the last bit of your drink, the buzz going right to your head. Mingi’s constant interference had sobered you up on more than one occasion, and the little bit of a buzz you had before had been chased away. Now you were eager to chase it again and just feel good for the night.

Christian widened his smirk, looking you over through hooded eyes before glancing over your shoulder. “So that he stands a chance of being the one to go home with you tonight.” You nearly spit out your drink, blinking up at him with evident shock. “Excuse me?”

“I mean no guy likes watching the girl they have a crush on fawn and attempt to jump on other strangers’ dicks. I’m perfectly happy being that dick by the way, but I also think you should give the poor guy a chance.” Setting his drink down, he pulled out his phone and held it out to you. “How about, you give me your number but tonight you try him out for size? If it doesn’t work, shoot me a text and I can take you out on a date. But if it does, well still text me because now I’m invested.”

Flabbergasted, you could only laugh. “You’re crazy, why would I want to sleep with him?” You still found yourself putting your number in his cell and texting your phone from his to get his number as well.

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat and bringing his drink up to his lips. “You find me attractive, so I’d say look wise he is your type. Don’t blame you either. Besides, ever had a hate fuck? Some intense shit right there, highly recommend at least one in your life.” You turned in your seat to look over Mingi once more, taking note of the way he idly danced to the music that was louder on the floor where he was. Some of his friends were nearby, Yunho having draped an arm around him and seemed to be trying to talk to him or get him out of the pout. You couldn’t deny that he had a point- several points.

“Fine. We’ll see if you’re right. Don’t go anywhere.” Setting your empty glass down you got up, making your way down the few steps to the dance floor and right towards the two towers. Yunho spotted you first, grinning as he nudged his friend a bit in your direction, saying something too quiet for you to hear. Not that you cared, not when the moment you locked eyes with Mingi your chest felt warmer.

You blamed it on the alcohol.

“You happy now?!” You yelled so he could hear you, putting your hands on your hips. “Since you keep chasing away the guys, I don't have anyone to dance with. You can take responsibility for that now.”

You tried to ignore the way his boyish grin had your cheeks feeling hot, as well as the cheers from Yunho and your best friend a bit deeper in the swarm of bodies who you hadn't realized had been watching or could hear you. It had you questioning a lot.

Not that you had a moment to process or ask, as Mingi was placing his hands on your waist and stopping all other thoughts. “I'll be your dance partner for tonight then.”

Well shit, was he right about Mingi? Did the brat have a crush on you?

Better yet… Did you really like that idea?

With a smirk you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back into the swarm of bodies and away from his friends. He didn’t seem to care, entranced by you only. Now that he wasn’t being a thorn in your side, instead pressing into your side, you had to admit he was hella fine. And you would definitely enjoy a little hate fuck with him.

You let the music guide your body, moving it against his and turning in his grasp so your ass was against his thighs. You could feel him, the tight and slim waist under the white shirt, the designer blue and white jeans. He had looked like a fuckboy tonight and here you were, planning to test just how much of one he was.

Damn, you fell quick.

Out of simple curiosity you looked up, right at the bar on the raised landing to find the man who had pushed you to do this. He was leaning back against the bartop, watching you both with a smirk that widened when you locked eyes. As if to tease you, he grabbed the junction in his pants, giving a squeeze before pointing at Mingi behind you. Mingi who had dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your exposed skin and his hand splayed over your lower abdomen and holding your smaller body back against his.

Fuck you were enjoying this, enjoying his attention and touch and Christian could definitely see that. He was even laughing a bit, mouthing ‘I told you so.’

You mouthed back ‘fuck you’ only for him to grab at his dick again.

As if sensing he didn’t have your full attention, Mingi’s hold on you tightened, lips ghosting against your flesh. “I thought I chased him away?”

“Ah Mingi, were you really jealous all this time?” You couldn’t help but tease, body swaying against his to the music, purposely rubbing your ass against his thigh.

He hissed out, bringing his lips to your ear. “I just wanted to be an option, pretty girl.”

Your head rolled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you tore your eyes away from Christian. He wasn’t your target tonight and damn, Mingi was making you really glad that you had listened to the hottie at the bar. “You’re an option now. Just for tonight, so make it count Mingi.”

“Fuck. Come home with me now? Like right now and I’ll make it a night you won’t forget.” He whispered in your ear, lips brushing the shell and hot breath on your neck causing you to shiver.

How could you tell him no when he was practically begging and rolling his body against yours to the point you could clearly feel his excitement against your lower back? Glancing over at your best friend, you caught her watching with a smug grin. Fine then, you knew when to give in. “Are you sober enough to drive?”

“Had only one- grab your shit I’ll meet you outside?” He mumbled, pulling away reluctantly, his hand sliding down to your ass and giving a quick squeeze before he did.

“Don’t make me regret this.” You huffed out, heading to the lounge area you had left your small bag at with the two of the friend group that wasn’t keen on dancing for the night. They were chatting away, paying you no mind as you grabbed your bag. Sure you talked as if you were doing Mingi a favor but you couldn’t deny how wet you were and just from dancing to three or four songs with him.

How he managed to make you even more wet from just his hand on your thigh while he drove was also beyond you. He barely talked, focused on the road with one hand on the wheel and both tense as he sped within limits. The anticipation was almost too much and you were tempted to whine.

That was the only touch until you were behind closed doors. “Wait, don't you live with some of your friends?” It dawned on you when you noticed several items that you were sure weren’t his. “They’ll find somewhere else for the night.” He kicked his shoes off, turning to lift you up before you had a chance to take your heels off. “Keep them on for now.” You lifted a brow and held onto his broad shoulders, unable to see his expression from this angle because of the cap. “Suit yourself. Your room then? I am eager to see how you’ll win me over Song Mingi.”

“Mmm you’ll see soon, princess.” He carried you down the hall, not giving you much of an option of taking in your surroundings. Not that you cared, not when you could feel his lips on the exposed skin of your chest, dipping into the valley of your breasts and breathing you in. “So soft, I could drown myself in you.”

You wondered if he had more alcohol than you to drink with how blunt he was being, or perhaps you were just easily flustered at the moment. You hadn’t even thought of Mingi in this way or would’ve given him a chance if it hadn’t been pointed out and now you were kicking yourself for not thinking about it sooner. When his lips worshiped your skin and his hands were kneading the flesh of your ass as he carried you into his room.

If you thought there were sparks before, it was full blown fireworks in your stomach when he tilted his head back and kissed you. He was a little messy, but not in a bad way. You felt like he was devouring you, laying you back on the bed as you took his hat off and tossed it aside so you could have him closer. “Mingi~”

“Yes Princess?”

“Too many clothes- get them off.” You all but demanded, yanking at his shirt as he pulled away from your body.

He made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat as he quickly made work of your clothes and his shirt. But even with the clothes gone, his hands still worshiped every part of your body. Your sides, stomach, hips and thighs before he pushed them open, licking his lips at the sight of your drenched pussy. “Oh that looks fucking delicious- you don’t mind if I have a taste do you?”

He was already leaning in before you could answer, instead gasping out at the small kitten lick he gave your folds. With a low moan he buried his face against your cunt, lips and tongue making quick work of licking up your arousal and rubbing his nose against your clit. He hitched your legs over his shoulders, your heels a heavy weight on his back as he went. Fuck he knew how to use his tongue, eating you like a starved man with his favorite treat.

Your head rolled back as pleasure assaulted your senses, breathing hitching and hands gripping at the sheets next to you. “S-shit Min- if you keep that up-” You broke off on a loud moan as his lips latched onto your clit and he sucked, making your head spin with electricity. He seemed intent on driving you to and orgasm, lips switching from your clit back to tongue fucking your pussy, back and forth, playing you like an instrument he was well familiar with.

So really you shouldn't be that shocked when he pulled a climax out of you that had you soaking his mouth and shaking against his sheets after several moments of bringing you to the peak before driving you over it. He didn’t pull away, making deep guttural sounds against your cunt as he licked up every drop he possible could while not overstimulating your bundle of nerves. You had to tug him off though, trying to catch your breath and see the dim room normally and not in a post-orgasmic haze.

“Still think you are going to regret it? Calling out for me like that?” He grumbled against your inner thigh, leaving a soft trail of love bites before he stood up.

“Fuck you.” You lashed out, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching him through your lashes. 

“You’re doing that already Princess.” He hummed out with a cocky smirk, pulling his jeans down with his boxers and letting his fat cock spring free, slapping against his abdomen and smearing a little bit of precum in the process. “Let me get a condom first, no matter how amazing I’m sure your pussy feels raw.” Stepping out of his clothes and over to his nightstand. While he rummaged for the condom, you pushed yourself up onto your knees, kicking off your shoes now.

You couldn’t lie, you were eager for him, unable to tear your eyes off of his dick as he rolled the condom on, but you were also determined not to be outdone. “You were the one so fucking eager to fuck me you purposely chased away all the dick that I wanted.” You pointed out, patting the bed and demanding he lay down. 

He seemed a bit flustered as he laid down, leaning on his elbows and watching you swing your leg over his hips. “Was I really that obvious?” “I just thought you were being an annoying prick.” Rolling your hips to drag your cunt against the condom, you observed his reaction. 

Mingi couldn’t even look at you, his eyes trained on your cunt teasing him, biting down on his lip as he clearly enjoyed it. “What gave me away?” With a smirk, you reached between you and held him still at your entrance, teasing him with the prospect of sliding into you but not yet giving it. “Christian did. Even told me if you left me disappointed he would take me on a date.” 

His eyes flashed up to yours, anger and jealousy so obvious now. “You’ll have to tell him it's no deal then.” Gripping the bed, he thrust up, burying his full length into you. His hands flew to your hips to hold you still as he rammed up again, and again, not giving you a chance to speak. “I’ll leave you so fucking satisfied you won’t remember his name.”

With the way he filled you up, and how deep he hit in your womb, for a moment you thought he could actually do it. For a moment, he did. He stretched you out so perfectly, hitting every part of you with his big cock that you were a moaning mess and could only think of how good it felt. And how good he looked beneath you like this. 

Your hips slammed down to meet each thrust as you held onto his arms, pride swelling in your chest at his own parted and drooling lips. You weren’t going to be the only one so fucked out you couldn’t remember anything else. Intent on driving him just as crazy, you pulled his hands off him and pinned them to his sides, rolling your hips as you leaned forward and letting out a pornagraphic moan as he hit deeper. “Oh fuck- Mingi~” “Feels s’good Princess. Fuck fuck fuck~” His head fell back as he let you have control, brows pushed together as he desperately tried to meet your hips. “Ah… fuck… mm~ s’good…”

“Was it worth the wait Pretty Boy? This fucking cunt you were drooling over?” You panted out between moans, forcing yourself to stay focused on his expression because it was fucking hot. 

He nodded, gripping your ass and digging his nails in as you two fucked each other. When he moaned, like a desperate and deep whine, you clenched down around him, so close. You wanted to tell him, but his desperation grew until you were the one just getting fucked dumb on his cock. Head rolling forward and hands on either side of his head, you tried to look down between you two to watch his cock disappear into cunt with each desperate and rough thrust, the sounds of wet skin just adding to the cacophony of sounds filling the room.

It was also so much better to hear him beg for you to cum with him. “Please please- cream on my cock baby, want to feel it. S’good already, give me more.” With a broken whine, you could tell he was close.

That was all you needed to do to come undone, forehead resting against his chest and drool escaping your parted lips as you shook from the force you soaked his cock. Your head actually spun with how intense it was, vision blurry and the only thing you could process was his hot cum filling up the condom inside you, so deep you felt full.

You collapsed fully on him when he became a puddle beneath you, both of you sweaty and chests heaving in their effort to get more air. You settled in your orgasmic bliss, letting the high fade until the puddle of drool you left on his chest began to irritate your cheek. So you were the first to move, sitting up weakening and letting out a soft whimper when his softening cock moved inside you. “Gotta clean up pretty boy-”

“I know- get you some water, rest for a second…” He opened his eyes and looked up at you, full lips pulling into a smirk. “Get you ready for the next round.” You didn’t fight off the blush this time, giving his chest a playful slap before pulling off completely. “Who says I want a second round?”

“Mmmh, I do. You’re not screaming my name yet.” He sat up and pulled you back against him, kissing your shoulder in a gentle contrast to his rough hold. “Sit on my face this time. In fact, I want to eat you out until I come untouched. You taste so good I think I can. Want to test that?” Trying to hide the grin that couldn’t help itself, you nodded. “You’re on.” That date idea no longer seemed like a fun idea- not when presented with options just like that.

Just one night? Debatable.

[physalian]

Went browsing for paid beta readers on my old stomping grounds, Fiverr, and ugh, man I hate that website. And Upwork. All of them.

There’s something about a monetary incentive on a platform that pushes the lowest bidder hard, called “Fiverr” for a reason, that can churn out the laziest work? Not that I think beta reading should be done for free, but “beta reading” is, in my experience, not very widely understood, so a lot of lazy people or full-blown scammers think they can take this soft, unregulated skill, and make bank doing the absolute bare minimum. Whereas if you do it for free, you gotta be doing it for the passion.

And I have been scammed plenty, especially during the beta process for Eternal Night where I was reporting gigs left and right for false advertising, even the most popular ones that rampantly abused AI to do their work, but an inexperienced author would never notice.

I’d absolutely love to throw money at the people who do quality beta reading, and I have, and it absolutely lessens the anxiety of “you said you’d do this for me where’s my work” if we have an actual contract of “I have now paid you money, you have to follow through on your commitment.”

Beta reading is just one of those incredibly nebulous areas where the expectations of both author and beta reader can have such vast interpretations that there needs to be a dedicated platform, like Reedsy, that only hosts freelancers for writing, that is invite only like AO3 to lessen the chance of scammers, and demands more from freelancers to vet their skills than a basic English comprehension test, because understanding English is not an understanding of fictional prose.

It would take a ton of work having actual people involved and not chat bots and ~algorithms~ but a site where I can say “I have a WIP with X genre, N wordcount, and Y rating and I’d like a beta reader to provide B style and C level of feedback with a focus on D narrative structure” and have betas who are happy to take on a project written in a style they both understand and would enjoy reading.

A system where you can leave reviews but there’s no stressful “ranking” system, and where you can delete bad faith reviews with some disclaimer of “there was something here but it has been removed by vendor” so at least you have the chance to ask “hey, what’s behind that redacted box?” because as a beta myself on Fiverr, I have also been harassed by pissed off authors who thought they shit gold.

A magical platform made by authors, for authors, where you can cancel an order without blowing up your entire gig. Heck, where you can have cover artists and illustrators also there for your one-stop-shop for the whole book, cover-to-cover. A platform where you can silence your 'gig' for a while if you're not using it so you're not clogging up the real estate for more active sellers without risking your standing. A platform where you must be able to approve an order as something you want to work before an order is just dumped hot and steaming on your doorstep that you must work or else risk your rating.

I had a friend who ghostwrote for some weirdo who insisted on including all these foot fetish details in a completely unrelated and “YA” work and wouldn’t admit it, but to cancel on them would be to lower their very precarious standing on Fiverr. Cancellations are a death knell. The pressure to leave better reviews than people deserve lest you get harassed by the seller/buyer is also very real.

Reedsy is great and all, but Reedsy takes a hefty cut and it’s for bigger projects that cost hundreds to thousands of dollars for full-blown edits. 10% inflated cost for Reedsy's cut (don't remember the actual number, hypothetical) gets really expensive when it's 10% of $3800.

Beta reading is not “easy”. It demands more than a “it was good” (and sometimes I have to ask after the fact “did you even like it” which should be very clear up front) and authors have different expectations of the level of work involved, even among the same WIP as it goes through different stages, but so much of it involves telling yourself “this might not be the book for me, but it could be the book for someone so I am going to read it with an open mind” that I also did not get from a few sellers.

Idk maybe even a Discord server (I've tried communities on here, not a fan of the UI) for now that at least gets authors who need betas and betas who need authors in the same location. Fuck it, I'll even run it. I've got free time. You want something done, you do it yourself.

Anyway thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[impala-dreamer]

Taking Over Me

A Supernatural Story

~Dean's guilty pleasure comes to life and Y/N gets tangled in the mix...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader 

3800 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Monster Fucking. Tentacles. All The Way Through Tentacles. Cum. Poison. Possession. Allll the fucked up things.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Fresh from the shower, she hurried down the long hallway, bare feet slapping against the cool tiles. The towel knotted over her breasts was damp and a little too short, exposing more thigh than she usually would in the common areas.

If she rushed, no one would see her.

No one that wasn’t supposed to, anyway.

Bedroom number eleven popped open with a mere touch and Y/N slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. She spun and pushed herself back against the antique wood, staring across the pristine room at Dean who was lounging on the pillows. He was ready for bed, down to a single layer of a thin cotton tee and shorts. His long legs were bare and stretched out across the mattress, propping up his laptop.

He startled when the door shut, looking up from the screen with the guilt of a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar before dinner.

“Uh- hey-” He distracted her with a beaming smile while shutting his computer.

She was not fooled. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked with the tone of someone who already knew the answer.

Dean laughed awkwardly as his cheeks burned bright pink. “N-nothing. Weather- things.”

Y/N kicked back and pushed away from the door. “Weather things?”

Dean squirmed uncomfortably as she came close and clasped both hands on the computer, unable to move it from his lap. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. There’s uh… tornados and stuff. Um. Gotta keep an eye on those, ya know.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Tornados, huh?” Clearing the distance between them, Y/N appeared at the side of the bed and looked down at him. The fabric of his shorts was stretched higher than the actual tent they’d pitched when camping a few months ago. She snatched the laptop away and he gasped. “You certainly seem very into weather events. I never knew that was such a passion for you.”

Dean scrambled to cover his lie and his dick.

“Well…” He grinned and clenched his teeth, at a loss. “Ya know… meteorology has always been a… secret, uh, it’s- it’s fun.”

Y/N snuck her finger between the laptop and lifted the screen. Very exaggerated and animated moaning flooded from the speakers and her eyes lit up in awe.

A tiny brunette was being utterly ravaged by what appeared to be all eight legs of a giant blue octopus. The woman screamed in unadulterated pleasure and a wave of cartoon fluids gushed from her extremely swollen and pink holes.

“Oh…”

Dean scrunched his eyes shut and then lurched for the computer. “It’s an art form! You can’t shame me for art.”

Y/N pulled the computer out of his reach and kept watching. “I’m not shaming. It’s just…” She tilted her head as two of the tentacles reached around to circle the woman’s tits, squeezing so hard her dark magenta nipples nearly exploded. “Wow. It’s… different.”

With her distracted, Dean managed to snatch the computer and tuck it under the bed.

“Hey!”

Dean sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on,” he said, “lemme have it.”

Y/N laughed gently and sat on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I’m not gonna tease you for your choice in pornography. I’m not Sam.”

Green eyes rolled and dimples popped above his lip.

“Really,” she assured him, leaning in and laying a hand on his thick upper thigh. “And believe me, if you saw some of my hidden folder things, you’d know I’m not able to judge.”

His brows lifted in interest.

She bit her lip and went on, laying it on thick. “I just… I don’t know, I was surprised you were in here taking care of yourself. I thought maybe tonight we were gonna…” Her fingers curled inward and she brushed her pinky over the base of his cock. “Ya know…”

Dean swallowed hard and his arms sank to his sides. “I wasn’t… doing anything,” he breathed, stomach tensing as her hand slipped inside the slit of his shorts. “Just watching. I was bored- you were in the shower a long time…”

“I was,” she admitted, slowly dragging her warm hand over his erection. He was near to pulsing under her touch and she popped up on her knees, shifting on the bed to get closer. “I was in there a long… long time.”

His lashes fluttered, his lips parted, chest heaved.

“Getting myself all clean and… smooth for you.”

She batted her eyes and Dean’s mouth watered.

“Smooth?”

Licking her lip, she took his right hand and placed it beneath the towel against her bare sex. Dean moaned as he felt the velvety flesh of her pussy and his heart pounded almost painfully.

“Fuck…”

He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth but Y/N released it, sucking a kiss over his wet mouth until he snapped and took over. He grabbed at the towel, tearing it away as he nipped at the soft flesh of her throat and below.

Y/N rolled onto her back and he followed, closing in on her like a starved wolf. He growled against her mouth and hissed when she locked her legs around his hips, jerking him forward with a hitched kick on the ass.

“Better than anime?” she whispered, licking at the tender flesh of his ear.

He nudged at her cunt, teasing and threatening all in one rough motion. “Oh, hell yeah…”

Dean woke up late, his old bones tired from a night of fun. He sat up with a cough and dragged a hand down his stubbled cheek, scratching at the shadow and wondering if he should bother shaving. Y/N might like a beard, he thought, and decided to give it another day at least. Just to test it out.

Y/N was whistling loudly, a familiar tune floating from her lips down through the hallways.

“Styx?”

Still groggy, Dean followed the sound, rubbing at his eyes when the walls began to undulate around him. He felt almost drunk, but soon shook it away when Y/N came into view.

“Come sail away… come sail away with me…”

She was bent over, ass pushed out high, digging through the archives in room 7B. Her whistle was intoxicating and Dean felt his blood rushing south. His ears rang with her song and he slipped into the room and slunk up behind her, grabbing her hips.

Y/N yelped and stood, falling back against his firm chest. “Dean!”

He nuzzled into the crook of her neck and took a tiny bite. “Mmm… mornin’.”

She could feel him stiffen against her ass and she pushed back against it, rubbing suggestively. “Morning nothing- it’s almost noon.” Her left hand snuck up and curled around the back of his head, holding his lips to her flesh. “You OK, sleepyhead?”

He breathed her in- dust and sweat and her fruity shampoo. He hummed happily. “Very…”

Her nails scraped along his scalp and ideas flooded his brain.

“Busy?” he asked, already envisioning slamming her up against the metal shelves and sinking so deep into her that he could see it in her eyes.

“Kinda.” She held up a small octagonal box. The brass was dark with age and she rubbed at the inlaid symbol on the top. “This is cool. I don’t know what it is, but the top thingy is pretty.” She rubbed it again and the tarnish moved beneath her fingers, clearing the brass.

Dean eyed it for a second and shrugged. “Never seen it before.” His lips pulled at her ear.

“Probably shouldn’t play with it,” she sighed. “Might have some evil creature trapped inside that could eat us alive.”

His hot breath fluttered into her ear and she shivered. “I could eat you alive,” he growled.

Y/N smiled and turned her head so she could lick at his hungry lips. “I guess I could take a break…”

Dean let out a moan that vibrated through her and Y/N rolled her hips back until they were both throbbing and aching. Reaching around, Dean lifted his left hand to her chest while the right slid between her thighs.

The box fell onto the cement and the ancient lock shattered at their feet.

“Fuck, Dean…”

Her pulse was racing beneath his lips, her pussy already dripping. He could feel her jeans dampen over his palm.

Close to feral, Dean tugged his hands away and grabbed her upper arms, spinning her around to face him. They scuffled over the floor, kicking at the box while they rearranged in each others’ arms.

Lost in a kiss, neither heard the brass lid creak open.

The neon glow that leaked out wasn’t seen as Dean shoved her back against the metal shelves and attacked, crushing her with every ounce of himself. He licked deep into her mouth, scratched down her sides, jerked a knee between her legs.

Y/N grasped at his shoulders, fingers curling into the gray flannel he wore. “God, Dean… need you so bad…” Her voice flowed through him and Dean grunted back, unable to find any words as he fumbled with two zippers at once.

The air in the room shifted. A slowly rising mist poured free from the box, illuminated by streaks of purple neon. The mist floated up around their ankles, but neither noticed.

She bit down into the bend of his neck, marking his shoulder with a tiny red crescent moon and he hissed against her cheek. “Fuck me, Dean…”

He grinned, eyes hazy and staring into her. “I’m tryin’-”

The cloud lifted around their hips and a strange warmth struck them both. Y/N’s exposed middle shivered with goosebumps as the mist touched her and she looked down with wide eyes that let in the fear.

“Dean-” She slapped his chest to get his attention.

“I’m workin’ on it,” he laughed, face buried in her hair as his hands struggled.

“No!” She grabbed his face and turned him downward. “Look!”

The fog was moving faster, climbing higher with every breath. It tickled her jaw and Y/N gasped, looking to Dean for help.

“What the fuck!”

Surprised, he took a step back and the mist enveloped Y/N. It sucked her down into a hazy mess of purple so thick that Dean couldn’t even make out the spot she’d been in.

“Y/N!”

She screamed and then fell silent. Dean spun on the spot, totally surrounded by the alien fog.

“Y/N!” He yelled for her and the mist crept in, filling his mouth and trickling down his throat. He choked on it, unable to move any air. He clawed at his throat, but there was nothing to move, nothing to break free from. The cloud lifted above his head, expanding to fill the entire room.

Dean’s head hit the cement and green eyes slammed shut.

He woke with a gasping breath, lungs aching and head throbbing. Tacky warmth was spread on the side of his face and he knew that he’d been bleeding. He tried to reach for the wound, but his hands were stuck, locked tight above his head by the enchanted metal cuffs that hung against the back wall of the dungeon.

Slowly, the room came into view and he shivered. The air was on full blast, pumping in through vents in the ceiling and casting down icy air into the stone lined room. He gave himself a quick shake to shed the dregs of unconsciousness blinked into the dim light.

Vision was not his friend and Dean cringed at the sight before him.

Y/N was lying on the cold floor in the center of the devil’s trap, her naked body displayed as if she were sleeping. Her hands were hung at her sides, her legs perfectly straight. Her eyes were still closed but she was breathing and Dean called to her.

“Y/N!” His voice bounced through the room but she didn’t stir. “Baby, come on. Wake up!”

Her lashes fluttered. Her throat tensed with a cough.

“That’s it, baby,” he urged, “wake up. Come on.”

She struggled to open her eyes, and when she did, panic filled them. She tried to move, but her limbs were numb, unresponsive.

“Dean?” She turned towards his voice, only her head able to move. Her eyes were wide and flooded with horrors he missed while passed out. “Dean! We have to get out of here. Now.”

Her breaths were heavy, pained. She tried to move again, but only managed to twist her left foot a bit to the right.

“Fuck! I can’t move!”

Dean took a breath and looked around. They were alone and the secret entrance closed. Something had put them in here to keep safe.

“We’re OK.” He swallowed hard. “Hey! Look at me, OK? We’re OK. We been in worse situations, right?”

He smiled but she wasn’t buying it. A tear slipped down her cheek and Dean’s heart ached.

“We’re gonna be just fine.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Right. OK.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, finding the will to stay calm within. He exhaled slowly and she mimicked, calming down for a moment.

It was a brief moment that shattered when the door creaked open.

“Dean?” Her heart raced, eyes shooting towards the entrance.

No one entered, but the light from the box glowed bright from between the metal shelves. Dean stared at the neon, trying to decipher his task. If he knew what he was up against, he could fight it. He couldn’t exactly punch the fog.

He grit his teeth and tugged at the chains. “Hello? Who’s there!”

Y/N drew in a scared breath and whimpered. “Dean…”

His eyes followed hers and his jaw dropped in awe.

Slithering through the gap in the portal was a long, slimy tendril. It was firm and thick, the color of an eggplant, and it moved across the floor like an eel.

Dean blinked in wonder as more appendages appeared, sliding through the crack in countless numbers until a swarm of squirming, slithering things darkened the edges of the devil’s trap. They skirted the red paint, looming within inches of Y/N’s paralyzed form.

Her jaw trembled and she grit her teeth to try and stay calm. Years of almost getting herself killed had taught her that panic helped no one.

Quickly, she looked up at Dean but he was as lost as she; there were no plans, no ideas. They were in trouble.

“Dean…”

The tentacles breached the sigil and Y/N screamed as two warm, wet things slid across her feet and wrapped themselves around her ankles. Tiny suckers on the underside attached themselves to her flesh, puckering and slurping, kissing her calves and feet.

Y/N’s breath caught. The sensation was almost pleasant, and she let herself relax a little.

Dean watched as the strands of flesh crawled up higher, slipping between and around her thighs.

“Y/N?” His heart was pounding, nerves on edge, and yet- he couldn’t stop watching. He clawed at the cuffs, yanked down hard on the chain, but his eyes never left Y/N. “Baby?”

Her eyes were heavy, lips parted with a deep exhale. “Dean… it’s… it’s OK…”

The arms twisted around her legs jerked suddenly and her knees fell open. A clipped moan left her lips and Dean’s stomach tensed.

“It’s so… warm…” She sighed and bit her bottom lip, keeping in a string of aroused noises. “Dean…”

He pulled hard on the cuffs and a single line of blood dribbled down his forearm. “Y/N… I can’t- It’s-”

Words vanished as a third tendril slinked between her legs and nuzzled at her cunt. Y/N cried out in shock but sank back down into blissful compliance as the suckers closed around her clit.

“Oh my god- Dean- it’s-”

His eyes were locked on her body, unable and unwilling to turn away.

“Oh, fuck!”

Y/N’s eyes rolled and another tentacle slipped in between her thighs, this one sinking without warning into her tight pussy. It jammed itself in deep and then expanded to fill her channel completely.

“Jesus Christ!” Her voice cracked as the invader pulled out just enough to let her juices flow freely before slipping back in. Her body tensed and her hips jerked upwards, moved by the tentacles.

Dean’s mouth watered despite his fear. The sound of the thing fucking into her rang in his ears and his cock twitched hard. The wetness squelched loudly and another slinking eel came around, sliding through the mess to nudge at her tightest hole. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t resist the arousal that zapped through his veins.

Y/N exhaled a shaking laugh as the monster filled her up. She tried to squirm away, to buck her hips to the rhythm of it moving, but she was locked in place, trapped by some magical bondage that she couldn’t explain.

More tendrils appeared, attacking her in ways that Dean couldn’t fathom. They attached themselves to her nipples, sucking with slurping hunger that made Y/N cry out with spasming pleasure. They tangled in her hair, coiled around her arms, her throat. They covered her eyes, blinding her from Dean, pulsed at her ears until she could hear nothing but the wetness and their suctioning kisses.

“Dean?” She tried to turn her face, to look for him, but it was all darkness. “Dean! They’re…”

A gentle buzzing sounded in the back of her mind and Y/N was distracted, listening to it intently.

Dean called to her, but she could no longer respond. The tentacles pushed and pulled at her flesh, twisted her limbs, puppeted each finger.

“They’re… taking over… me…” The buzzing was incessant and distracting. She held her breath as the thick snake in her cunt moved deeper still. She could feel it breaking through, plunging into stomach, fucking everything inside. There was no pain, only a deep, throbbing point of pleasure that radiated outward and blocked everything else out.

Panting and tense with guilty arousal, Dean stared at her stomach as the tentacle bulged in her lower belly. He could see the tip poking through, climbing upwards through her system. It crawled higher and Y/N gagged when it entered the base of her throat.

“Oh, god- Y/N!” His voice was strangled and his cock was stiff. He hated himself for watching, for not closing his eyes to the horror, but it was strangely beautiful and Y/N’s pleasured cries were alluring and intoxicating.

Her head jerked as the tendril passed into her throat and pushed across her tongue.

Dean gaped, eyes wide and staring. The tip slipped from her lips and pumped outwards like some alien tongue. It thrust in and out, pulling and pushing from her cunt to her mouth, flooding her body with its poison slime.

Gagging and suffocating, Y/N felt herself slipping into darkness. The buzzing grew louder and the suckers pulled harder. Her thigh quaked as she came and her muscles squeezed hard around the appendages, coaxing it to fuck her harder.

“Y/N!”

His voice faded into the background, so far away, so quiet.

The larger tentacle forced itself through her lips again and blue tinged liquid pulsed from the tip. It exploded from her mouth, choking her and covering her face and chest in a thick, oozing cum-like mess.

Dean shuddered, his body shaking as he came in his jeans, untouched and disgusted with himself, terrified for Y/N. He clenched his teeth and roared, using what little strength he had left to yank at the chains.

Y/N’s body twitched as the tentacles retreated. They slithered from her holes and untangled themselves from her limbs, setting her free.

Dean held his breath, watching her chest. She wasn’t moving.

“Y/N?”

His eyes flooded with wetness and he blinked a single tear that slid down his face, catching in the stubble.

“Y/N…”

Suddenly, her eyes popped open and she took a breath. Mechanically, she sat up and twisted to look up at Dean.

Her smile was unnatural and terrifying, her lips stretching too far up into her cheeks. Her eyes were wrong, the irises overtaken with neon purple light.

“Y/N?”

She stood, climbing to her feet with minimal effort. She opened her mouth and an unearthly tongue curled out, licking the cum from her face. She smiled again and cocked her head, regarding Dean.

“Thank you for the female,” she said, voice high-pitched and awkward. “She will be very useful.”

The metal cut into his wrists again and Dean raged, screaming for her as she walked away.

The shelves slid closed behind her and Dean was left alone in the cold darkness, confused and horrified.

“Y/N!”

“Dean! Hey!”

She slapped his cheek and he woke, jerking up and away from her. He kicked at the blanket and scrambled for his gun, a strangled cry dying in the back of his throat.

“Whoa!” Y/N pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed, her hands raised in surrender, her sleepy face twisted with worry. “Dean! It’s me!”

A deep breath pushed him back into reality. “Holy shit!” He scrubbed a hand down his face and popped his jaw, uncomfortable and still reeling. “That was a dream?”

Y/N blinked at him, confused. “Uh… probably. What the hell happened? You started kicking me and when I woke up you were twisted and screaming.”

The dream played tricks on him, tinting her eyes purple and snaking a tiny eel around her throat, but he pushed it away. He slapped his cheeks and rubbed at his eyes.

“Wow. That was insane.”

Settling, he leaned back against the headboard and opened his arms. Carefully, Y/N slid in next to him.

“Babe, you’re soaked through with sweat…” Y/N lifted the cotton from his chest and cringed. “Gross. You OK?”

He exhaled loudly and nodded, dropping his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah. Just a really… really fucked up dream.”

Y/N snuggled close and slipped her arm around his waist, making him jump.

“Wow, I guess it was.”

He laughed at himself and sighed. “Gotta stop watching all that hentia. It’s doin’ things to me.”

Y/N danced her fingers over his stomach and down. “Not all bad things…” Her hand slipped and she cupped his dick, rubbing gently.

Still on edge, Dean hissed and grabbed her wrist, carefully guiding her away. “Yeah. Not… not now… Bad. Bad things.”

Laughing sweetly, she set her arm back around his chest and cuddled close. “Maybe you should really be looking up tornadoes before bed. Those never gave you nightmares.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He smirked and rubbed a hand down her arm. “Definitely gotta lay off the monster fucking… for a while, anyway…”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05  

[softspaceboibrian]

Fell in Love with the Fire Long Ago || Jamie Tartt

Chapters: 1 - more to come

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Y/N - Social Media Manager for AFC Richmond || I used she/her pronouns, but there is no actual physical description, so the pronouns can be switched with whatever anyone wants or prefers!

Summary: When Y/N received that email, she couldn't believe it. He was coming back.

Warnings: maybe some swear words. hints and mentions of sexual acts (still SFW). S1 Jamie Tartt aka a dick. a little angsty. Sam being is lovable self.

Characters: Jamie Tartt, Sam Obisanya, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes, Dani Rojas, Ted Lasso, Rebecca Welton. Some others may appear as mentions.

Wc: 3800 (this works as a pilot or a prologue, to set up the story)

A/N: this story is based on this idea I had and that a few people seemed to like. hopefully you enjoy this first chapter/prologue. and if you want to read more, feel free to leave a comment. If enough people like it, I was thinking to do a taglist, so that people can stay updated. anyways, thanks for reading &lt;;3

When you first heard the news, you couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe that they could do such a thing. Not to the team, not to you. That was the reason you were stomping up the stair, the clinking of your heels echoing against the walls, as you reached Rebecca’s office.

You didn’t knock, you didn’t wait for them to welcome you in. They knew you were coming. Especially after the email they had sent out. The email had been sent only to the “necessary” people that needed to be involved, and you, being the social media manager for the club, received it. It was probably a way for them to warn you to start preparing the content for the announcement. But you obviously didn’t take it well. They knew about your history, they knew how things had gone down. They had to be expecting you.

“How could you?” Your loud, clear voice, full of anger and disappointment filled the room.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Ted’s cheerful greeting made you want to scream. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” The sarcasm was obvious.

“How could you? After what he did to the team? After what he said about you?” Your tone was loud, so much so that you were sure people from downstairs could clearly hear every single one of your words. “How could you?” You choked on your last words, and as you finally met Rebecca’s gaze, you could feel the familiar sting of the tears that threatened to fall, spill, pour.

The woman sighed, getting up from her chair to make her way around the big desk. “Listen, love, he’s a great player. When Ted told me about their talk, I knew we had to get him back.” She explained, walking over to her. “We cannot let our feelings get in the way of the team’s success.”

You shook your head, taking a step back. “I never thought you would become this cynical.”

“I’m not cynical, just rational.”

“It’s all the same thing. He’s a prick. And pricks don’t change.” You were furious. “And it’s not just my feelings, but the team’s feelings. But you obviously don’t remember how he used to treat everyone.” You lingered on that last word, looking briefly at each of them, before turning around and making your way out of the office and down the stairs. “No one understands.” You whisper, your fists so tight you started to feel that burning sensation of your nails leaving marks on your palms.

Keeping your head low, trying to hide the tears streaming down your face, you made your way to the changing room. You knew you couldn’t say anything to any of the boys yet, but still, you needed some comfort. You needed Sam.

You quickly reached the locker room and knocked, waiting for them to give you a sign to let you know you could come in. And, as soon as you opened the door, you ran straight to Sam, immediately burying your face in his chest.

“Hey, Y/N/N. What is going on?” His thick Nigerian accent immediately bringing comfort to you. “Did something happen?” He asked as he tried to pull away slightly, trying to understand what was happening.

“Just… hug me… please.” You pled, the voice muffled by his jersey. And he did. He wrapped his arms around you, softly placing a kiss on top of your head, before laying his chin in the same spot. You’re immediately comforted by the warmth of your best friend’s embrace. However, you didn’t fail to notice how the familiar chatter of the changing room had started to slowly simmer down until it ultimately came to a halt. A sense of pain and anxiety washed over you at once, and your head started again to fill with the same questions you had asked Rebecca and Ted. Why? Why him? Why now? How could they?

But soon, your stream of thoughts was interrupted by Isaac’s voice. “Who do we have to kill?” You didn’t need to raise your head from Sam’s chest to know that the feeling was shared by most if not all the team’s players.

“No one. Yet.” You mumbled, sniffling. “It’s complicated.” You added as you finally pulled away from Sam, yet still remaining extremely close to him, as if his presence was the only thing keeping you sane and calm at that moment.

“When the moment comes, just call, okay?” You gave a quick nod to the team captain, accompanied by a shy smile. To any casual passer-by, the comment may have seemed sarcastic, the usual banter between friends that care about each other. But the team knew that that was not sarcastic at all and that Isaac would indeed, without a shadow of a doubt, kill someone for you.

You couldn’t exactly remember when, but somewhere down the line, the team had become your chosen family. However, you could clearly remember how that process had started.

You had started working for AFC Richmond around the same time that Ted and Coach Beard did. You didn’t care much for football or sports in general, but you had just recently graduated from university and had found this work through Keeley. You and her had met at your cousin’s going away party a few years before, when he had decided to move to Greece to become an archaeologist. You had immediately bonded over who can even remember what, and remained close friends ever since. So, when she heard that the position had just opened up, she immediately sent your CV to Rebecca, without warning you first. You found out about the job only when you received a call from a certain Mr Higgins, who told you that they had read your curriculum and found it really interesting. And so, you ended up moving to Richmond-upon-Thames and started working for the club.

It didn’t take you long to get to know the team and become friends with them. Obviously, you had your prejudices against footballers, who you thought were self-centred egomaniacs – and you weren’t completely wrong about that – but, to your surprise, most of them turned out to be great people. You quickly became very close with Sam; Roy tolerated you; Isaac and Colin were always kind to you. Even Jamie Tartt, the prick of the team, would usually drop his dickhead persona when he was with you. And that was how you two ended up together. For the first month or so, you would notice his constant flirting, but you never really gave it too much thought. You had read about him in the tabloids, and you knew how he was famous for having a different girl every week. You weren’t that oblivious, you knew he was fit. But, every time he would flirt with you, you would play along for a while, before brushing it off and going back to your business. I’m just his latest challenge, he will move on sooner or later, you thought. Until, roughly a month and a half after you had started working there: he started waiting for you outside the clubhouse, asking you if you needed a ride home. Which then turned into him asking you to grab a coffee with him one day before practice. Then it was dinners. Movie nights at his place. Stolen glances in the hallways of the clubhouse. Sneaking in the boot room to secretly make out. And sooner than you could realise, you were sleeping over at his place most of the time.

You asked him to keep things private for a while. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of him. You just needed to be sure about him. So, you kept sneaking around. Avoiding each other as much as possible, too worried that the team might just figure it out. Let me show you off, Jamie would whisper into your ear, in-between wet kisses, as he stood behind you in the kitchen in the morning, wrapping his arms around your waists. Let me take you out to a restaurant, on a proper date, he insisted. But you kept declining his offers. Not yet, baby, you would reply, as you slowly melted under his touch, I need a little more time, you said as you turned around in his arms. And the conversation would die there, with Jamie immediately picking you up and placing you on top of the kitchen counter, his lips trailing their way down your neck, your collarbone, your chest, down, down, until your vision turned hazy and you had to grip onto the marble countertop with all the strength you had in your body, too afraid you might fall off of it, as his lips met finally met your core.

You were able to keep your relationship private longer than you had expected. It was after almost 4 weeks that Nate eventually walked in on you two in the boot room. You weren’t doing anything too private, you were merely making out. But Nate being Nate, froze on his feet as he saw you two holding onto each other, too stunned to move. I was… I needed to… sorry… I didn’t…. As usual, he was too embarrassed to form a complete sentence, so he simply left the room. You two looked at each other and knew that it was only a matter of time before your secret would be out. And you were right. The secret didn’t last the entire day, and when it was time to go home after practice, you were met by a horde of football players, asking you when it had started, how long had that been going on, if you two were official, and so on.

Somehow, but still not completely unexpectedly, the news reached the press in less than a day. The next morning, as you lied in bed with Jamie’s head on your chest, you were woken up by the constant buzzing of your phone. Check this article from The Sun, said a message from your high school friend, with a link attached to it. Is it true? Asked your mother. Congratulations! read the message from your aunt from whom you hadn’t heard in ages. And the messages kept coming. Yes, it was true. You were now in a relationship. Yes, your boyfriend was a famous footballer. Yes, you knew about his fame. Still, you didn’t care. Because, when Jamie was with you, he wasn’t Jamie Tartt, star striker for AFC Richmond, but just Jamie. And you loved just Jamie. He was sweet, he was passionate, he was kind, he always made sure you were feeling well, he brought you flowers once a week, he left some coffee for you in the pot in the mornings, he always made sure you were sexually satisfied – something he was really proud of.

Sadly, you hadn’t realised that, with going public, also came the hate from his fans, who thought that you would be too distracting for their beloved favourite player, and from the girls, the actresses, the top models, the reality tv stars, who had hoped to one day end up with him and whose dream you had shattered overnight. You pulled through it, and that was also thanks to Jamie, who never missed the chance to remind you how much he loved you and cared for you.

However, two months after going public, things started to change. You couldn’t understand why if it was something that you had done or said, but he started to become distant, cold. He would invite you less and less over to his place, and when he did, it was mainly to have sex, to ‘release the tension from practice’. And whenever the team lost, the sex would be rough. He was always on his phone, texting, dming, emailing. A part of you knew it was girls he was talking to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about it, so you just said nothing and held on. He soon stopped asking you how you were, telling you how much he loved you. You tried asking him what was going on, but he would always deny everything, saying that you were imagining things, that you were just paranoid, and that everything was fine. Fine. Oh, how you came to hate that word. You asked him how he was. Fine. You asked him if he wanted to spend the night together. Fine. You asked him if he wanted to drive to the clubhouse together. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. You hated fine. In Jamie’s language, fine meant if you really have to, or I would rather you left me alone, or I don’t really care. You hated it. And you hated what your relationship had become. But still, something stopped you from leaving him, maybe the hope that soon things would go back to normal, that soon he would go back to being just Jamie.

But that never happened.

And things only got worse when Ted decided to take him out during a match. You knew that Ted was doing it to teach him a lesson, and he was right to want to do so. But as you watched your boyfriend leave the pitch, you knew things would only get worse. So, you stopped constantly looking for him. You stopped texting him every day. You only met when he asked you.

It was in that period that you grew closer to Sam. You could distinctly remember the day he walked into your office to ask you for a few suggestions on how to make his Instagram page more appealing. Instead walked in on you sitting on the floor, with your back against the wall and your hands in your hair. You didn’t even have the strength to pretend things were okay, so you simply looked up, black lines scarring your cheeks, and met his eyes. “Sorry, Sam, it’s… not a great moment.” You struggled to get the words out.

But Sam didn’t say anything. Instead, he closed the door behind him, made his way across the room and took a seat on the floor next to you. “Is it Jamie?” He asked with his thick Nigerian accent that you would grow to love and even find familiar. You nodded silently. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. “Do we just sit in silence?” A nod. A beat. Then your head slowly fell to the side, until it found its resting place on his shoulder.

You don’t exactly know how long you stayed there, on the floor, in silence. It could have been a few minutes or entire hours. In either case, Sam stayed there, and didn’t leave your side. He never once took out his phone to check his messages, even though you could feel it buzzing in his pocket. He only changed position once, to move his arm and wrap it around your shoulders. That was the first time you had spent that much time in silence with someone without feeling the need to fill it with superficial chatter.

From that day forward, you and Sam were inseparable. There was something about him that simply brought you comfort, a comfort that not even Jamie had been able to give you. Whenever you weren’t sleeping over at Jamie’s, he would come to pick you up and drive you to work. He would drive you home in the evenings, making sure you were all the way inside your house, before sprinting off the road to go home himself. You would start having lunch together, usually joined by some of the other guys – in all of this, most of the time Jamie was nowhere to be found. And whenever your boyfriend acted like a dick with you in front of everyone, he would speak up. Are you his boyfriend now, Sammy? Jamie would mock him, using your nickname for him. I don’t think so. She’s me girl, so I’ll talk to her how I want, a’ight? He would puff out his chest, trying to look bigger and intimidating.

That evening, after practice was over, Jamie sprinted off to who knows where or to who knows who, leaving you there, alone. And, as per usual, Sam would come to the rescue, offering you a lift home.

“Why are you still with him?” Sam asked you as he stopped in front of your house. “You deserve better, not an asshole like him.”

You shook your head. “He’s not like that when it’s just the two of us.” You would always find a way to make excuses for him.

“I don’t care how he is when he’s alone with you, Y/N! If he really loves you, he should treat you well in public as well!” You had never really heard Sam raising his voice before, and it would have been a lie if you had said that you were not intimidated. But, despite everything, you could feel the care and preoccupation in his voice. “You deserve someone that truly cares for you, and that isn’t afraid to show it!” You knew he was right. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say something, to break up with him.

But you never had to.

It was maybe a week after your discussion with Sam when you showed up unannounced at his place. It was cold outside, and you were only wearing a thick jumper. You stood there, in front of his door for at least three whole minutes, before finally knocking on his door. You knocked instead of ringing the bell so that if he was already asleep, you wouldn’t wake him. But he had heard it, and less than 10 seconds later, he was opening the door.

“Y/N, what are you-” He didn’t even finish his question. He took one look at you and knew exactly what had happened. He took your hand gently in his, and immediately pulled you inside, guiding you to the living room. “Wait here a moment.” He said, making you seat on the couch, before running off in search of a blanket. “Okay, wrap yourself in this while I put the kettle on.” He opened the blanket and put it around your shoulders.

“Stay here, please.” You whispered, grabbing him by the wrist before he could move away again.

“But you’re shivering.”

“Just… please.”

As soon as he met your eyes once again, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. He had seen you in distress before, he had comforted you multiple times after your fights with Jamie. But this time he didn’t even need for you to tell him what had happened, he already knew. He took a seat next to you, fixing the blanket so that it was properly covering your entire body, before pulling you to his chest.

“He said that I was too much work.” The words left your mouth watery. “That I asked too much of him. And that, since he was going back to Man City, it was better to call it quits.” You whispered. You could feel Sam’s body tense, the air blowing through his nose. You knew he wanted to say a lot of things. He wanted to tell you that he was a dickhead, that he never realised what he had in front of him, that he had just lost the best woman he could ever find, that he was a moron, a jerk, an idiot, a fool. But he didn’t. He remained silent. And he did the best he could to comfort you. He stroke your hair and your back, he rocked you and hummed to you, until you fell asleep.

After that night, it didn’t take long for the rest of the team to find out what had happened, and how it had happened. Every single one of the boys sent you a text, saying, each in their own way, that they were sorry, that Jamie was a dick, and that they were there for you if you needed them. And you were glad to know so many people cared for you, people that up until a few months ago didn’t even know you and that you would have never expected in your life to end up being friends with. They all stopped and hugged you when they met you in the corridor for the first time after it had happened. But some of them surprised you.

You hadn’t been able to sleep for the last few nights, which was made obvious to everyone by the way you dragged your feet against the floor whenever you walked around the clubhouse, your legs too heavy for your exhausted body to properly move. You had also stopped taking care of yourself. Yes, you showered and brushed your teeth because you hated not being presentable for work. But you had stopped brushing your hair every morning and every night, like your grandmother had thought you when you were little. And you had stopped wearing make-up. Not that you would normally put on a full face every day, but you stopped using mascara because it made your eyes burn whenever you cried, and the light concealer you used under your eyes to make yourself look fresher, more awake. And now your puffy red eyes and dark circles were there, on display, for everyone to see, a reminder of how you were feeling.

That morning you had opted for a very comfortable pair of sweatpants and a warm AFC Richmond hoodie. Using supportiveness as a way to hide your depression. Smart, you thought. Sad. You were sitting in your office, alone, working on the new social media campaign, when suddenly you heard someone knock on your door. “Come in.” You said flatly. As the door opened, you looked up from your laptop, only to see Sam walk in, followed by Isaac, Colin and Dani. “How can I help you, boys?” You forced a smile on your face.

“Want to watch a movie with us tonight?” Asked Isaac, taking the lead. You looked at the quartet in front of you, unsure of what to say. “We can watch whatever sad movie you prefer, and Dani can bring some Mezcal.”

“Boys, I-” You started, but you were instantly cut off.

“Uh-uh!” The Welsh stepped forward. “We don’t want to hear any I’d rather be alone or I don’t want to be a bother bullshit, okay? We want to do this.”

“Yes, we only asked to be nice, but if you say no, we will just kidnap you and force you to do it.” Said Sam, a soft, warm smile on his face, as he leaned over your desk.

“Por favor, Y/N” Dani pled, showing you his big, brown puppy eyes.

“Fine!” You gave in. “On one condition: we order Chinese.”

They all look at each other, before bursting out laughing.

A/N: if you read all the way through, thank you ! feel free to leave a feedback/comment. i would love to know what you think about it and if you would be interested in reading more of this story. let me know if you would like to be put in a taglist for this fic! love you <3

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Getting rid of Vanessa quickly is one problem to solve, but Bradley is afraid you'll also be ready to leave after the interruption. Tonight was supposed to be special after so many months of thinking about it. But even when things don't go as planned, he's beginning to see that you want to be around him as much as he needs to be around you.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, unprotected sex, smut, Bradley being sexy, 18+

Length: 3800 words

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

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

You were just across the room from Bradley, but it felt like you were miles away right now as he pulled his front door open a little wider to reveal Vanessa. She looked completely calm, as if she was supposed to be at his house. Like he hadn't dumped her months ago. She took a step closer, ready to walk right inside, and his stomach lurched.

"Fuck," he groaned, his face heating up with embarrassment as all of the desire he'd just been enjoying started to recede from his body. "What do you want?"

She already got her fucking water bottle back, so he had no idea how she was going to respond, but he was surprised to hear her say, "I wanted to see you."

Bradley blinked at her wordlessly. He had forgotten the details of her face as soon as he'd seen yours for the first time, and now he could barely remember any of the details of the time he'd spent with her at all. It seemed like a completely foreign concept that she was here to see him. "Why?" he blurted out, and she laughed in response.

"We ended things a little rough before you left, and I'll admit I could have handled it a bit better. But I did miss you while you were away. I wanted to show you how much."

She tried to shoulder her way through the door as he said, "Vanessa. I am so confused right now. We broke up."

"Okay, but now that you're back on dry land, we can both come to our senses."

She must have thought her words sounded reasonable, but they were making his skin crawl. He didn't want her at his house. The uncomfortable feeling was creeping in that he associated for so long with being taken advantage of. He wanted her to leave even as she smiled up at him and reached a hand out to let it rest on his chest.

"I did come to my senses, Vanessa. That's why I broke things off," he said, voice dry and raspy. He was terribly uncomfortable, and he was starting to panic when he felt a warmth at his side and a hand wrap around his bicep. Vanessa's eyes went wide as soon as she saw you, and the look on her face was so comical, Bradley almost laughed.

There was no way you didn't hear every word of their conversation, but you just gave him a little squeeze and smiled as you said, "I'm ready for you to come back to the couch now."

"Who is this?" Vanessa snapped with a tone of jealousy, which was rich coming from her. She was looking at you in disgust as Bradley tried to get his thoughts in order. Was it okay to call you his girlfriend? He was debating with himself, but it didn't even matter. You were already responding. 

"I'm someone who actually cares about Bradley. You must be Vanessa. His ex." Your tone was even, but Vanessa's face started to turn red.

"You've been back for like three days," she muttered in response. "You sure moved on fast."

Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose. "I mentally moved on as soon as we broke up, Vanessa. Months ago. You picked up your water bottle. I've got nothing else for you here."

He was already embarrassed enough, and then she huffed and stomped her foot at him. Had he actually dated this woman? He had, and now you were witness to his mortification as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I was going to at least offer to blow you while you thought about where you wanted to take me for dinner tomorrow night, but you can just fuck off, Bradley."

His hand on the door finally sprung to action, and he started pushing it closed as he said, "Goodbye, Vanessa."

"Bye," you said, waving your free hand. You turned so the front of your body was pressed against the front of his as he locked his door once again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he grunted in response, because there was really nothing else to say. He'd been daydreaming about this evening for so long, he should have known nothing would go right. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to go home."

You started to tug on his arms as you shook your head. "The only place I want to go is back to your couch."

"Alright," he replied, cheeks absolutely burning with embarrassment. He couldn't decide if Vanessa was serious or if she just needed to get the last word in, but if she ruined his chances with you, he didn't know what he was going to do.

This time you settled down on the cushion next to him instead of on his lap. This was decidedly not where he thought he would be right now when you had your hands inside his shirt just a few minutes ago. "I'm sorry," he whispered before turning to look at you. "I had no idea she was going to show up. I never anticipated seeing her again, actually." When you reached for his hand in response, he swallowed hard.

"So... you met me through my letter right after you broke up with her?" you asked carefully.

There was no point in denying it. "Yeah. I broke things off shortly before I left home. Then a few weeks into my deployment, I got the first package from you and your kids. And I wasn't lying when I told you it changed everything for the better."

You sighed and kissed his scars, and Bradley's heart skipped around in his chest as you said, "I really had perfect timing, huh?"

"You're not upset?" he asked, holding your hand tighter. He didn't give a single fuck about his entitled ex; he just cared about you.

When you shook your head, your nose brushed along his stubble and the edge of his mustache. "Just annoyed that she tried to make you feel bad while simultaneously trying to get you back. Who does that?"

"Not you," he said easily, and he could feel you smile against his cheek.

"I'm hungry," you told him. "Let's eat pizza together. And then I'd like to get back to where we left off."

He pulled you onto his lap as he dug his phone out of his pocket. "Yeah?" he asked hopefully as you draped your arms around his neck.

"Yeah. You promised me the couch date ages ago, and I want the full experience."

He exhaled the breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding, and then he kissed you and asked, "What kind of pizza do you want, Gorgeous?"

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

You were not that surprised that Vanessa showed up at Bradley's house. He was handsome and kind, and of course his ex would eventually realize how good she had it before she messed up. But she already had her chance with him, and you noticed right away how his demeanor changed as soon as he opened the door. The sweet way he'd been looking at you since the first time he called you over FaceTime was nothing like the way he looked at her. And now you got to witness how awful she was for yourself.

When there was another knock on the door, you looked up at his face from where you were snuggled up against his bicep holding his hand. He'd been more subdued for the past twenty minutes as you and he actually watched the movie you brought along with you. That was admittedly not something you thought was actually going to happen. But when he looked at you he smiled before leaning in for a kiss.

"That better be dinner this time," you muttered, ready to rocket off the couch if Vanessa dared to come back again.

He chuckled and said, "If it's not pizza, I'm slamming the door and coming right back."

He kissed you softly one last time before standing, and once you confirmed it really was the delivery driver, you went into the kitchen to grab some beers from his refrigerator. You found four different kinds along with another bottle of Prosecco and some seltzers. The kitchen itself was beautiful, and the window overlooked his small yard. You were about to start searching for a bottle opener when Bradley wrapped his arms around you from behind. 

"I never did take you on a tour of my house," he murmured, rubbing his mustache along your cheek. "Now or after we eat?"

"Bradley," you laughed, and he just held you tighter. The kitchen smelled like pizza, and you could already hear his stomach growling. "You won't make it five more minutes without food."

"You're so right, Gorgeous," he replied, spinning you in his arms so you were facing him. That crooked smile was teasing at his lip as he said, "Thanks for not going home because of earlier. I think I would have been devastated if you left."

He seemed almost relieved as soon as he told you that. "It's going to take more to scare me off than your ex girlfriend, but if she comes back here again, I can't guarantee she'll leave without a black eye. I don't like how she was talking to you." The words were out of your mouth before you could really consider them, but Bradley looked even more relieved as that adorable smile warmed up all of his features. "Besides, this is my couch date. Mine and yours, and nobody else is going to fuck it up."

His smile grew as he pushed you back against the island with his hands on your hips. "I kind of like it when you say bad words," he whispered, his tongue darting out at the corner of his mouth. "Why is that so hot?"

"Because I'm a fucking elementary school teacher," you replied as innocently as you could without laughing, and you were rewarded with a kiss that let you know exactly how hot he thought your potty mouth was. Then he groaned as his stomach started growling louder. "You need to be fed."

He released your lips but tilted your chin up with his fingertips. "Right after dinner and some beers, I'm going to show you around, and then we're going to get right back to kissing."

You shrugged and said, "I kind of figured we'd be kissing while you showed me around."

"That's convenient, since I can't seem to stop." This time he kissed your neck before handing you paper plates. He piled one with two slices of pizza before you told him to stop, and then he piled four on the other plate after taking an enormous bite out of one. "Meet me on the couch?" he asked, patting your butt as you walked away. When you paused to glance back at him, he was still watching you. "I'll be right there," he promised.

You only had to sit on the couch alone for a few seconds, thinking about how badly you wanted him, before he joined you with two opened beers and a roll of paper towels. "Here you go, Baby," he muttered, handing over one of the bottles before dropping down on the couch at your side. 

You watched his tall, muscular body as he reached for his stacked up plate of pizza slices and let it rest on his thigh before he draped his free arm around your shoulders and took another sip of beer. Somehow everything he did was graceful, but it was the way he turned to you, casually kissed your lips and said, "If you like this pizza place, we can order from there again," before folding a slice in half and devouring it that made you melt a little bit.

Of course you were going to want to order more pizza and have another couch date night. You took a bite, and the food was amazing. Bradley started man-spreading on the couch which made you have to snuggle in against him a little more. And then you were both taking sips from his bottle of beer since yours was on the coffee table, and you didn't want to move away from him to get it. And the movie was all but forgotten as the two of you started ranking the local pizza restaurants as he finished his fourth slice.

"I liked the pizza," you informed him as he reached for the roll of paper towels. "And I even like that you're using paper towels instead of napkins. It's oddly charming."

With a soft groan, he took the nearly empty beer bottle from your hand and set it aside. You squealed as he murmured, "Come here," and scooped you onto his lap before stretching out along the couch with his legs hanging over the arm. You were straddling his waist with your hands resting on his shoulders as he softly said, "I'll get you pizza or Thai food or Salvatore's as much as you want." His eyes were soft and sincere as he looked up at you and said, " I don't care. I love all of it. I love spending time with you."

When you leaned down to kiss him, your knee slipped, and you started laughing as he held you in place with his big hands on your waist before you could end up on the floor. "You're too big for your couch, Bradley."

"I tried to tell that ages ago," he replied, guiding his hand slowly down your thigh until he was pulling you back into place. "Didn't stop me from fantasizing about having you on top of me exactly like this." His cheeks were pink as you leaned in and successfully kissed him this time. "God, Gorgeous," he whispered. "The real thing is just so much better than the emailed version, and that was enough to get me going for months."

"Bradley," you whined softly.

"Say it again," he groaned, hand tightening on your thigh. His head was tipped back, dark gaze glued to your lips as you ran your thumb along his scarred cheek. You'd never been this comfortable around a man before. Even now he wasn't rushing anything, though you both knew what you wanted. He'd been giving you one last chance all evening to pull away if that's what you decided to do after Vanessa stopped by. But your heart was telling you with absolute certainty that this man was a keeper.

Your lips met his scars, and the tip of your tongue grazed along his stubble before you whispered right next to his ear, "Bradley." Immediately you felt one big hand at the small of your back, hot and rough against your bare skin, guiding you flatter against his body.

"Oh hell," he gasped before devouring your mouth. Your fingers tugged on his wavy hair as his hand slid lower until you felt his fingers slip inside the elastic waistband of your leggings. He held you in place and rolled his hips up to meet you as you moaned into his mouth. He was deliciously hard just for you. If you couldn't have all of him soon, you were afraid you might pass out.

You could vaguely hear the sound of the movie playing in the background as you explored every inch of his mustache with your lips. Bradley's entire hand was inside your leggings now, and if he wasn't holding you so tight, you knew you'd be on the floor. With every exploratory grind of your hips, you got wetter. The stretchy fabric of your leggings was thin, and you could feel him through his jeans as he grunted deep at the back of his throat, "Gorgeous. I want you."

"Oh my god." His other hand was inching his sweatshirt up along your body while he sucked on your neck, and it took you longer than it should have to formulate words as the butterflies went wild. "I want you, too." You helped him pull the shirt a little faster over your head, leaving you laying on top of him in your bra practically panting as you said, "Take me to your room."

He smiled before kissing you hard, and then you were in his arms as he stood up. "You want the full tour of the house right now?" he teased, but his smile slipped as soon as you unzipped his jeans while you shook your head.

"Bedroom. The rest can wait."

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

Bradley was torn. Part of him wanted to hold you in his arms all night and list off everything he loved about you. The other part wanted you naked and in his bed. He'd never had such strong feelings of love colliding with such strong feelings of lust in his entire lift, and it was honestly a bit disorienting. You were somehow everything he wanted, all wrapped up in one Gorgeous woman. He still couldn't believe you'd stood by his side and let Vanessa know you were with him now, and therefore maybe a third part of him wanted to reward you just for being so good to him.

"Bedroom?" It was a question this time as you kissed him, and he felt your exploring fingers make their way inside his jeans.

"Let's go, Baby."

Bradley had to stop twice on the way, because you were too fucking perfect. You were too perfect not to press up against the wall in the hallway, and it felt too good when your hand found its way inside his briefs. "Shit," he gasped, eyes wide as you touched him, his hands planted on the wall on either side of your head. He kissed you over and over again as your hand wrapped around his cock, and he never wanted this to end.

When he started to toy with your bra straps, you whispered, "Take it off." 

His cock was held snug in your hand as he undid the clasp at your back and eased the lace away from your chest. You were looking up at him, lips parted like you were trying to gauge his reaction to your body, and he couldn't help but smile as he took in every inch of your tits. "Come on. You know you're Gorgeous. I'm sure you can tell just how much I want you."

When you gave his balls a little squeeze in response, he knew he needed to get you through the doorway and into his room. Your bra fell to the floor as he guided you inside. His desk lamp was glowing, and somehow your body looked even more ethereal bathed in the soft orange light. 

You glanced around the room even as you let him tuck you against his body, and he kissed the top of your head as you whispered, "I've shamelessly thought about being here with you." Your hands were on his abs again, pushing his tee shirt up his body, and Bradley could feel your furled nipples against his skin as he tugged it over his head. Every time he tried to speak, a needy sound escaped him instead as your hands smoothed along his chest and down his sides. "Oh my god, Bradley," you whined, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I've touched myself, too. Imagining you were with me."

"Fuck," he groaned, the last bit of restraint snapping inside him as soon as you said his name and those sweet, filthy words. Of course he'd been losing his mind over the very same sorts of thoughts, and as his mouth collided with yours, he led you backwards to his bed. You gasped and laughed when you landed on your back, tits bouncing beautifully as you looked up at him in surprise. Then he was on top of you, tasting your nipple, hooking his hand around your thigh as it crept up to his hip.

You were panting his name quietly as he inhaled the scent of your skin and tasted both of your breasts. "You're so soft," he whispered, talking about your skin and your body and your sweet personality. "I can't get enough."

With your fingers in his hair, you were rubbing yourself gently up against him, and it was making him hard beyond belief. He didn't know how much more he could handle before he needed to be inside you, but tasting your skin and teasing every inch of you was something that should be savored. 

"You don't have to get enough," you whispered. "Not tonight. I already want more."

Bradley's hands were on your leggings, pulling them down along with your underwear. He fought with them for a second, all tangled up with your legs, and then he kissed your giggles away as he ran his rough fingertips along your pussy. When your back arched off the bed, you gasped, and he dragged his middle finger gently along your slit, bucking against your leg at the slick wetness he found there.

You were naked beneath him, reaching for him, telling him you needed his kisses, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen or heard. He tried to take his time, taste you everywhere, but he needed to fuck you more than he needed to breathe. He was dizzy as he stood, jeans halfway down his thighs, cock hanging free from his underwear. Then you sat up in bed, knees bent as you squeezed your legs together and watched him get the rest of the way undressed in awe.

His brain was buzzing as you reached for him, and he took your hand in his, kissing your fingers as he said, "Let me grab the condoms I bought." He walked to his dresser, hands shaking with excitement as he tore into the box, but when he brought one back to the bed and settled in next to you, he noticed you were chewing on your lip.

"Do we really need this?" you asked softly, tapping the wrapper as you kissed him.

Your other hand was wrapped around his cock once again as he grunted, "I don't know, Baby. Do we?"

"Nope." You tossed it across the room, looped your arms around his neck and said, "I want to feel you."

When he eased you onto your back, his cock was nestled against your pussy, and he was completely lost beyond hope. "Yeah, Gorgeous?" he rasped, easing his tip closer to your opening. "You want to feel me?"

You rolled your hips, accepting him into your warmth, and Bradley thrust deep. He felt like the wind had been knocked from his lungs as you wrapped your leg around his thigh and kissed his name against his lips. You welcomed his touch everywhere as he fucked you. Your hands and mouth found his hair and his scarred cheek, like you were made for him. There was no hesitation or uncertainty. Now that he knew every inch of you, he was never going to want anything else.

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

Bradley's body was big and warm, and you could smell him everywhere. His hands were deliciously rough on your skin even as his touch was gentle and sure. Every sensation was brand new while still making you feel comfortable, as if you and he had been here before. You had in your mind at least. You'd considered so many things when it came to Bradley's body while he was still deployed, but just like his exquisite letters and emails, this was even better in person.

You shivered as he stroked your clit, wrapping your leg around him a little tighter, wanting more. Another steady swipe of his thumb, and you were whining. "You like that," he mused softly, and it wasn't a question. "You want more." Also, not a question. He seemed to know what you wanted and how you'd respond even before you did, and when he pulled your nipple between his lips, your back arched off the bed.

"Oh my god, Bradley," you moaned, looking at his handsome face as he gave you thrust after delicious thrust. "Our texts are going to be filthy after this," you gasped, and the intense look on his face receded a bit as a smile found his lips.

"You're damn right," he grunted before dipping his lips down to kiss you again before finding your shoulder and then your neck. "I can't wait to figure out every single little thing that turns you on. I'm gonna take my time and find all of them."

You believed him implicitly, especially since he was already doing a stellar job of making you slowly lose your mind. When his big hands found your hips, he held you in place and went a little harder as sweat started to bead on his forehead. He watched your face for a reaction, and as soon as your lips parted in a long whimper, his mouth was on yours. You held onto his shoulders as he tasted your tongue and told you that you were the only girl for him. Whispered that you belonged with him.

Soon you were slipping, remembering all of the sweet things he told you, both typed and spoken. "I'm so close," you pleaded, needing him to get you all the way there. It had been so long since someone made you feel this good, and this was the very first time a man ever made you feel this vital to his own happiness. Without prompting, Bradley circled your clit with his thumb as you tasted the bead of sweat on his cheek, and you were done. Your orgasm rocked through you as you cried out his name, and his thrusts slowed to an almost languid pace that just made you get louder and clench around him harder.

"Jesus," he panted, smoothing his hand along your skin as he watched you come apart beneath him. "Fucking gorgeous." Bradley's fingers curled around the back of your neck, and his thumb grazed along your lip as he watched you. His handsome face was flushed, and his movements were jerky as he rasped, "Where do you want me to cum?"

"Anywhere."

A string of desire laced expletives flowed from his lips along with your name. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and fucked you until his hips stopped moving, and you reveled in the warm feeling of being full when he didn't pull out. His body was heavy in a good way, and you dragged your fingers lazily through his hair as he murmured, "Am I hurting you?"

"No," you promised, wrapping your calf tighter around his thigh. "Don't you dare move."

The rumble of his deep chuckle and the scrape of his mustache against your neck made you shiver. "I'm not going anywhere, Gorgeous." You just held him to your body while he stayed inside you and treated your skin to little nips and kisses. But eventually his stomach started growling, and you giggled when he groaned. "I don't even feel self conscious around you," he muttered, reluctantly pulling his body away from yours. "Let's destroy the rest of the extra large pizza together while I show you the rest of my house."

Truly, nothing sounded better to you. Bradley located his discarded shirt on the floor and collected you in his arms before pulling it over your head. Then he tugged his underwear into place while he kissed you, and you led the way back to the couch. You could feel how sticky he'd left you between your thighs, but you didn't immediately do anything about it, because he was grabbing the pizza box from the kitchen and then pulling you down onto his lap on the couch. His chin and forehead were cool and tasted a little salty as you kissed him and snuggled against his body. This was exactly how his couch was supposed to be for the two of you as you basked in the way he made you feel magical just by looking at you.

He held up a piece of pizza with a laugh and let you take a bite before he ate most of it. The movie had ended a while ago, and the menu options were playing softly in the background as you finished your snack together with his warm body cradling yours. "During the house tour, can we visit your shower together?" you asked him, running your fingers through his sparse patch of chest hair and down to his abs. "Before bed?"

"Already on the agenda," he informed you, standing again with you in his arms. He led you around, mostly showing off his piano, and then he took you into his spotlessly clean bathroom. He turned on the shower, and as the water warmed up, he pulled his shirt over your head and left you standing naked in front of him with his arm wrapped around you. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about this all the time," he murmured, running his thumb lazily along your nipple as you pressed your thighs together in need. "But I think about how much I love your face and your voice and the way you make me feel just as much. Maybe more."

"Bradley," you gasped, and he treated you to a needy little grunt that left you reaching for his face. "That's the kind of stuff a boyfriend would say."

His expression didn't change much, but his smile grew wider as he told you, "Well I want to keep saying it. So why not let me?"

"Let you what? Be my boyfriend?" you asked, heart beating a little faster as those familiar butterflies found their way back.

"Yeah, Gorgeous. I'm dying for it. And we've kind of already been doing this thing together for months, right?"

"Right," you agreed, pulling him toward the shower as steam filled the room. He came willingly, an expectant look on his face as you said, "You can be my boyfriend, Bradley."

His lips found yours, and they stayed there for a while.

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

Vanessa wanted him to come to his senses, but he already did! HA! He and Gorgeous are like magnets that just want to be touching at all times. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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