#and the old lady will probably point him towards the Peppers

[starzz-n-roses]

Hey guys, remember in Ep.8 when Iris said something like: “We have this little group of oddballs in a Tavern that we all link up at together…”

So, are we all in agreement that these two—

—are probably part of that group of oddballs that Iris and Patches know? :)

I mean, it’s not everyday you see someone with purple horns on their head (very cool horns might I add), nor see somebody associate with them.

I look forward to finding out these guys’ names when we see them again :3

[minsyal]

The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

I'm so excited for where this fic is going...

Feedback is always appreciated

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@ambiguous-g @ren-ni @metaphorical-love-for-a-car @lgbtomatoes

[abbatoirablaze]

Heaven's Demons, Chapter 32

Word Count:�� 1.2k

Warnings:  angst, rage, violence, threats with a knife, hints of framing someone.

“What the fuck do you want me to tell you, huh?” Ari growled as he licked his lips and crossed his arms over his thick chest.  The president of the junkyard dogs and his VP gave him a stern look as he continued, “she’s gone, okay?  She ran off with another one of the guys an-“

“The little fucking whore,” Bucky chuckled darkly from his spot at the bar, “you really surprised, Levinson?  She tried running away from me by riding your dick…gives a bad name to a guy’s old lady.”

“That’s my kid, Barnes…watch your tone.”

“Sorry pres…”

The president of the junkyard dogs took another long drink from his beer before placing the bottle down hard on the top of the bar.  The air was tense as the man waited, glaring at the ugly brown bottle, “ANOTHER ONE!”

“Hey doll,” Bucky called, whistling for a girl, “bring another round over when you have a second.  We’re out!”

“Where the hell is she?” the president asked, glaring daggers at Levi, “you only took her in the first place because the two of you were serious…least that’s what you made it come across like…unless you two were trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”

“Cherry is a little tease,” Bucky growled, “she probably promised him some perfect bullshit of being the best old lady ever, then he second he let up on her she bolted.  She only got with me to get out of marrying Stark now that Pepper’s gone.”

Ari’s jaw tensed, “I don’t know who she’s with or where she went.  All I know is that she split.  And we got too much shit going on.  Didn’t think much of it.  She’s not a kid, so she’s not my problem.  So I can’t give her back to you.  Barnes won’t have her again beca-“

“I don’t need her,” Bucky said calmly, resting his hand on the hip of the woman who’d brought the next round of beers.  Butcher froze, his eyes meeting Alice’s.  There was an electricity before them, and the two of them couldn’t seem to break eye contact from one another, even as Bucky playfully smacked her ass, “I got a new old lady right here…ain’t that right, baby?”

“Y-yeah…yeah,” she said quickly, stumbling over her words as she put the tray down.  Bucky pulled her into his lap, and she nervously looked away, muttering something into his chest, “Bucky…please.”

“Found this little minx in my grief counseling group,” he said, unashamed about how they met, “she-uh...she and I got to know each other real well…sex is a hell of a way to deal with grief.”

“James.”

He smiled, “come on, sweetheart…I’m among friends.  No one is going to go tell your ex or his friends abou-“

“I’m her ex,” Jefferson said quickly, finally breaking his silence as he allowed his gaze to drop away from Alice and he began to glare at Bucky.  His jaw was tense, and his eyes were full of rage, “didn’t think she’d ditch me for another biker…not when she said she couldn’t be around the club.  Not after what happened.”

“Maybe she just needed a man that she knew could protect her.”

“Bucky!”

Jefferson stood up, his knife already out and pointing at Bucky.  Alice shrunk away, nearly falling out of his lap, but Bucky stood, protecting her so that he shielded her with his own body. 

“Might want to put a leash on your boy, Barber,” the president of the junkyard dogs growled, “he’s threatening my VP and his old lady in my own place…now, we’re being friendly by letting you folks come here.  Pretty rude of you to just threaten him like that.”

“Jefferson-“

“We lost our baby less than a month ago,” he growled, stabbing his knife into the table, “A FUCKING MONTH, ALICE!”

He stormed out before anyone could say anything, slamming the door on his way out.

“Miss. Lauren Barber…”

Lauren turned, hearing her name.  She was surprised to see Lee’s deputies at the door to Andy’s establishment.  Her brow furrowed as she looked back to her brothers friends and fellow club members who all seemed as shocked as the next one.  She rose from Lee’s lap and stepped towards them, “wh-what’s going on?”

“Miss. Barber you’re being charged with the death of your fiancé, Evan.  We’re going to need for you to turn around so that we can cuff you and take you in.”

“What?” Lee roared, standing up, “what the hell are you two idiots talking about?  Lauren isn’t th-“

“Sheriff Bodecker, the investigation was removed from you per the governor, who thought you might have a biased opinion on this.  The two detectives that were brought in from the city have decided to proceed with the case against Miss. Barber!”

“But she didn’t do anything!” Lee said quickly, looking at his girlfriend, “baby it’ll be alright.  Don’t talk to anyone.  I’m calling the lawyer.”

“Lee, I’m scared,” she admitted, tears falling down her cheeks as the deputies reached for her.  She shrank away from them, running to Lee’s arms.  He held her firmly, “don’t let them take me, Lee.  I-“

“You’ll be fine,” he began, cradling her face, “I promise.  I jus-“

But she broke off his statement with a needy kiss.  Lee felt tears streaming down his own cheeks as she tried to wrap her arms around him but was pulled away by the deputies, “come on Miss. Barber.  Before your brother gets back.”

“Lee, tell Andy tha-“

“Miss Barber, you’re under arrest,” the deputy said, cutting her off while informing her of her rights. His partner began cuffing her, “anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“Don’t say anything baby!” Lee reminded her.  She began whimpering as the two deputies started out of the bar with her, only for Lee to stop one.

“Sheriff…don’t get involved.”

“That’s my girlfriend,” he hissed angrily, “what in the hell do you thi-“

But he stopped himself when he saw Evan’s father waiting across the street with a shit-eating grin on his face.  He was about to cross over as the rage filled him, only to be stopped by his deputy.

“Don’t do it, Lee…that’s what he wants,” he reminded him, “you hit him, we have to take you in too.  Lauren’s gonna need you on the outside to help get this settled, and you know that.  You can’t leave that boy with her brother.”

“She didn’t kill him, Dwight…”

“Trust me, I know,” he sighed as his partner loaded her into the car, “we’ve all seen the bruises...dug up the hospital reports…but his father’s pushing for it, and he’s got friends in high places.”

“They’re going to try an innocent woman because of that power hungry prick.”

“Not if you find the guy who did it, Lee,” his deputy reminded him, knowing that Lee could find another scapegoat, “not if you find the right one while we’re processing her.”

“Dwigh-“

“Look Lee…we’re dragging our feet on this already,” he admitted, putting a hand on the sheriff’s shoulder, “you just need to find someone else to take her place…find someone else who had the motive to do it…because they’ve already lost one killer in this town with Odinson and his brother…they ain’t gonna lose a second case…specially not this close together.”

Chapter 33

Tag list:  @lohnes16, @elbell20-blog, @stockholmdolly, @terrormonster55, @dontbescaredtosingalong, @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.

A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.

Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!

             It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.

             “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.

             “I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.

             You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.

             “You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”

             You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.

             It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”

             “Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”

             He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.

             “Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”

             Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”

             “No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”

             “Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”

             “So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”

             “I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.

             “Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.

             When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.

             You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.

             Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

             “Quit ignoring me girlie.”

             You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.

             “Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”

             “I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.

             You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”

             “Touché.” You hear back.

             “Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”

             “Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.

             “Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”

             “Apologize and I’ll consider it.”

             You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”

             The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.

             You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.

               “Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”

             “You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.

             “Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”

             You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”

             “You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”

             “I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.

             “And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”

             “I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.

             “I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”

             “Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

             “Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”

             You just nod your head.

             “Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”

             You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.

             “Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”

             When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”

             “Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”

             You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.

             He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

             Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”

             “So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“

             “I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.

             “I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”

             “Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”

             “That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.

             “Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”

             “I’m sorry they what?”

             He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”

             “Known for?”

             “Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”

             “I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”

             You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.

             “That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.

             “You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.

             “Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”

             “Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”

             He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”

[dammitolly]

Loki Imagine: "Starting Now"

tw: rather large age gap, swearing, major angst

fluff, angst

Loki x Stark!Reader

You were seventeen when you met Loki Laufeyson. And you must admit... you had a bit of a crush on him. He was being kept prisoner by S.H.E.I.L.D, his power too great and his blood lust overpowering. You found him... interesting.

It only took a couple of tries before Nick Fury found out you were spying on Loki. You would study his mannerisms. For a god, he was quite... human. But, that was before there was a code put on the door, one that was made to keep you away from him.

It had never been explained to you in detail exactly what Loki had done, and you were too busy doing other 17-year-old things to turn on the news. So, Banner kept you as distracted from the trickster god as possible, showing you anything and everything he could in the lab. But, you would occasionally see Loki being escorted to and from his cell, peering into the lab... grinning at you. You couldn't help it, you wondered what he was like... you'd also wondered what those beautiful black locks felt like through your fingers. But those thoughts were just fantasies... ones that would never come true.

You had never been close to anyone capable of that before, capable of killing. Let alone someone who had wanted to do it. But you were a fool... a child. You didn't understand Loki, you didn't understand what he'd done. Not that anyone had bothered to clue you in.

After things got out of control, Tony, your father sent you back to New York where you would stay with Pepper and train for the next three years. Where you would learn how to help your father. Learn how to be an Avenger.

You were nineteen when you saw him again. His hair had gotten longer and his face had aged, but the biggest change was that he was no longer considered an enemy of the Avengers. Now, he was simply accompanying his brother to the compound.

It was almost noon when you first woke up and began making breakfast. It was your day off and you were going to do your favorite activity: sleep.

"My, my" a velvet voice said from behind you, "look who grew up."

You didn't need to turn around to know who was speaking. You grinned and continued to smear butter on your toast. "For the God of Mischief, you really aren't very good at sneaking up on people."

You turned and threw the butter knife, it pierced the wall right above his head. He stood with his eyes wide, his shock was unjustified. For one, if you had wanted to hit him you would; two, he had to have known what you had been doing all these years, what your father required of you.

You took him in as he sauntered through the kitchen, leaning against the bar. He was in desperate need of a haircut, the black locks fell to his shoulders. He wore his traditional solid black suit, not a hint of color. Not even his signature forest green.

He looked tired... as if it had been not two years but twenty. Age had gone well with him though. He looked mature, as though the youthful pranks had stopped a long time ago, like the power-hunger had disappeared.

You smirked, "You've gotten old."

"Two years isn't that long, Y/n." He reached over his head and yanked the knife out of the wall, leaving a small hole. Pepper would kill you for that later. Worth it.

You took the knife from his hand. "It is when you're getting old and fat," you retorted.

Loki chuckled, "You are your father's daughter."

You rolled your eyes, "Did you need something? Or do you enjoy seeing the mental agony you inflict upon me?"

"Actually, I was looking for your father."

You pointed your knife towards the elevator at the other end of the room, "Lab. Lower level. You should be familiar with that wing." The wing he had been kept prisoner in. The wing you had strolled down almost every day when you were seventeen just to catch a glimpse of the handsome prisoner.

"Thank you, darling," he replied as he strolled over to the elevator. He smiled and gave you a wink before the doors slid shut. You rolled your eyes.

Darling? Absolutely not.

Dinner was the most awkward thing that you've ever been forced to sit through. The fear of Loki and his manipulation loomed over the table like fog. Steve was watching him like a feral animal that would attack at any second. As if he were a venomous snake ready to strike at any given moment.

"So," Thor cleared his throat awkwardly, "Y/n, your father tells me you've been training in New York. How's that going?"

"It's a lot of work but it's a nice way to spend time," you said through a bite of mashed potatoes. "Right now I'm focusing more on science so I can help Bruce and dad. But Natasha is really wanting to do more combat training with me."

"Y/n fights now?" Loki asked, grinning at you.

You shrugged, "Not much, but I could definitely kick your ass."

"Could you now? I suppose we'll have to put that to the test, won't we Miss Stark?" Loki said with a wink.

Natasha laughed, "Y/n is a bit too soft right now. Once she gets over her fear of actually hurting someone I think she'll be an excellent fighter."

"The knife she threw at me this morning must have been an expression of that fear."

"Y/n Stark!" Pepper said from the other end of the table, "You did not put that hole in my wall."

"He was annoying me!" You said defensively.

"He annoys everyone, you don't see Tony throwing silverware at his head."

"No he just blasts him to hell with his suits," you deadpanned.

Pepper looked at Tony. "You see where she gets it? I told you seventeen was too young for training. I told you that the violence would rub off on-"

"Can we not argue at the table, please?" You said, looking back and forth between your father and Pepper.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine. But you're going to fix that wall young lady."

"Fine," you sighed with a roll of your eyes. You caught Loki grinning at you from across the table and went back to picking at your food.

"Here I was thinking we were going to have a civilized dinner," Loki chuckled.

Cap scoffed, "Civilized?"

"Cap," your father said with a warning tone.

"What?" Steve said defensively, "I'm just wondering where a murderer gets off saying anything about being civilized."

"That's rich coming from you," Loki retorted. "Do I need to remind you of all the innocents you killed in Sokovia? So many lives sacrificed in the name of doing the right thing."

"Brother!" Thor snapped.

"I'm just trying to level the playing field," Loki grinned. "If I'm going to be put on trial, perhaps everyone else should get off their high horse as well?"

"We have never been on the same level, Loki." Steve snapped, "You tried to conquer this planet. You lied, manipulated, stole, killed innocent humans. All because you wanted a power trip. That wasn't Sokovia, we thought we were doing the right thing, all you wanted to do was the wrong thing. All you wanted to do was kill."

"You speak as though I don't have the ability to change," Loki leaned his elbows on the table. "Isn't that what being on this planet is all about? Second chances?"

"Not for murderers," Steve spat.

You didn't know Loki well... but to the extent that you did know him, you knew that when he was embarrassed he also got angry and violent. But not this time. Loki was the picture of serenity and calm as he stood from his spot at the table. "I see how it is," he muttered, "I suppose I should have just stayed... gone."

With that... he left.

It was 3 AM by the time you left your room again. For no other reason than to break into Thor's cookie stash. He was convinced it was your father that had been stealing from him... wrong Stark.

You prayed that nobody would find you digging in the pantry for two reasons. One: Thor would kill you for stealing his snacks; two, you were in your underwear and a tank top. Anyone other than Pepper seeing you in this state would be humiliating.

But, of course, you can never get what you want. Behind you, you heard soft footsteps padding their way into the kitchen.

"I didn't realize you'd be awake," the masculine voice said from behind you. You turned and saw Loki, shirtless in low-hanging black sweatpants. You did your best to force your eyes away from the dark trail of hair below his belly button and into his pants.

As your eyes met his, you could see the light blush on his cheeks. Fuck, he'd caught you staring. He cleared his throat, "I just thought I'd make some tea. For some reason, I don't sleep well in Midgard."

"Perhaps it's all the memories," You muttered as he stood next to you at the counter.

"For christ's sake, Y/n," he slammed his mug down onto the counter, "I am not that person anymore, you know that."

"Do I?" You turned to face him, "You killed innocent people, Loki. You killed children-"

"I know what I did," he sighed, putting his head in his hands, "I'm trying to fix it. I want to be better than I was."

"Loki we can't just trust you," the tea was long forgotten at this point, the water had probably gone cold, "not after what you did."

Loki huffed and yanked the butcher knife out of the block, placing it in your hand. He wrapped his hand around yours and put the knife to his chest, only a little pressure would need to be applied in order for it to tear his skin.

"Loki, what are you-"

He shushed you, "I am literally putting my life in your hands. I want you to see that I am done hurting people, and if you killing me is how to prove it, then so be it."

You tried to pull away but he pulled you back in with enough force to make your knees buckle. You weren't looking at the knife against his pale, muscular chest. But his blue eyes that were begging you to acknowledge his sincerity.

Your grip on the kitchen knife loosened. It clattered to the floor as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his warm chest. "I don't want to hurt you," you whispered.

You felt him sigh in relief, "I don't want to hurt anyone either. If anyone here is willing to trust me, I want it to be you."

"Why me?"

He pulled away and cupped your face in his hands, "Because you are the first truly good person I've met on this planet. You give me hope, Y/n." He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"You don't have to be that person ever again, Loki," you kissed his Adam's apple gently, "I promise I will help you through this."

You felt him lean down slightly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you up to meet him. You immediately felt your breath hasten. You had been fantasizing about this moment since you were in high school... and now it was about to happen. Loki, God of Mischief, was about to kiss you at 3 AM in the kitchen of the Avengers compound.

Before you could take another breath, his lips were against yours. His lips were soft like you'd always imagined they'd be, and his mouth was hot like the rest of him. He groaned into the kiss when your tongue brushed against his. You raked your fingers through his hair.

He parted his lips from yours in order to lift you onto the counter, standing in between your legs, his hands trailing up your sides.

"Wait, wait," you gasped as you pulled your lips from his, "How do I know you're not about to use me?"

Loki smiled and tucked some stray hair behind your ear, "I'll never lie to you, my darling. I'll be good for you... starting now."

You pressed your forehead against his and kissed the tip of his nose, "Starting now."

[purebarnes]

the one where y/n finds out.

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ➢ when you have your birthday party at your shared apartment, everyone arrives but only for sam to leak one of bucky’s deep secret. leaving everyone shocked and confused about everything.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ➢ 2.3k

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀꜱ ➢ angst, little too late, heartbroken

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋꜱ ➢ n/a

you used to not liking celebrating your birthday but that was until you became an avenger and the friendships that evolved throughout the years. when you first moved to new york, you and wanda instantly clicked—you loved her and when she had the idea to be your roommate, you loved it even more.

tony helped you guys move in with the rest of the guys including nat and pepper. you loved them for helping you guys all in short notice, whenever you would carry a box that seemed heavy, bucky would intervene. he would make comments about leaving it so he could grab which you didn’t mind.

wanda would casually look over to see bucky and you talking but wanda would constantly tease you about it. telling her that you were just friends but she and sam wouldn’t let it go. tony would get comfortable and relaxing on your couch that they had just finished setting up but pepper scolding her husband.

when your birthday came around the corner, wanda insisted you to have a party if she would have to do it for you. that’s what she did. she bought invitations and got the decorations, made vision buy her a cake, told nat and bruce to bring in the drinks, demanded steve, sam and bucky to not mess anything up.

you told them not to listen to her but wanda made sure they all did something to make her birthday extra special. the morning, wanda went to the store to grab some supplies for the party while you got ready. hearing the keys jingle from the outside, you grabbed a towel and finished drying your hair.

when the door opened, wanda sighed putting the few bags in her hand. “i almost had to fight some old lady for this.” she said pointing to the bag as went to open the fridge for a drink. you chuckled at your friend as you sat down, “wan. you didn’t have to do this. i would of been fine if it was just you, me and nat—bucky?” she teased as you rolled your eyes grabbing a potato chip bag and opening it to hear the small tear when you opened it.

although he wasn’t boyfriend, sometimes you couldn’t help but feel a certain type of way around him, he had a shared apartment with sam so he understood what you meant by all that.

you popped a chip in your mouth when wanda went to check the time on the oven while she gasped—she grabbed the bag of chips as you groaned. “alright, we have 4 hours to—that’s probably enough.” you stated at wanda and her eagerness. she shook her head in denial as she kept pushing you out, “you, just relax and i will handle everything.”

she pushed you into your bedroom as you sighed turning around the your bed and plopping onto the soft white cushion. you started to feel your eyelids drop and started to fall back to sleep. a hour later you heard a male in your shared apartment and decided to see who it was.

you left your room and saw that it was vision and wanda talking about something like paprika or how she wouldn’t let him cook any food. when wanda looked up, vision got up to wish you happy birthday. “happy birthday, y/n.” he spoke walking over to give you a hug. “oh, thank you. vision what are you doing here so early. the party doesn’t start—i just wanted to see what i could help with.” he told her looking between the two women.

until wanda widened her eyes when she saw that you weren’t even dressed yet, “y/n! go get dressed, your boyfriend is almost here!” even though you did like him a lot, that wouldn’t change the fact. when you finally got dressed, you saw wanda finishing up some of the food with nat grabbing a beer.

the door suddenly opening to steve, bucky and sam as they all introduced themselves—“the men are here.” sam announced dropping his voice dropping the gift bag on the table as both of the girls narrowed their eyebrows. you went over to see what was happening, “I am going to stop you right now.” natasha spoke ripping the coal that was in sam’s hands.

you went over to hug them all fully stopping at bucky, “hi—happy birthday, doll.” he whispered wrapping his arms around your waist then letting when you hugged the rest of the guys. steve went to give you a gift as you accepted it placing it on the table. “where is the drinks?” Clint asked when he arrived already wanting to drink as you pointed to the blue cooler on the floor.

“so steve, how are things going with your girlfriend…” nat taunted taking a sip of the drink as steve rolled his eyes at her, “fine. you know how i’m doing the thing…” he let out signaling what they said before the party, “well the only problem is she now wants to have sex with me.” steve spoke as sam sighed sitting next to him, “crazy bitch.” sam said sarcastically at him as all three of them left to use the balcony.

when steve walked over to the balcony, bucky looked over to see you taking to some guy wanda brought over. sam and bucky noticed that you were flirting quite well with the guy, sam scoffed pulling his friend over into the balcony and grabbing a beer and opening it. handing it back to bucky, “dude. you need to forget her, move on with someone else… if she isn’t showing any interest then fuck her.” sam pointed out about you.

“buck, he’s right. but let’s not use such hostile words. have fun, meet someone else. stop letting her lead you on buddy.” steve said to bucky as he nodded at them while grabbing his phone and preparing to make a phone call. he turned around when he pressed on his contacts to call up a friend.

when everyone else arrived, wanda made an announcement about the food and how people should get some. you walked over to see bucky sipping on the cold beer in his metal hand as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the food—s’good. did you make it?” bucky asked you which you denied since you didn’t make it.

hours later of chatting and some people drinking too much alcohol, wanda decided to do gifts which you obliged. you got up rushing to the couch with everyone following behind you. when you saw bucky still at the table, you asked if he was coming. then excusing himself to use the bathroom, you grabbed a bag and shook it see if you could what it was.

“it’s heavy and rattles… and it’s two checkers.” you said plainly making you smile drop as you thank steve as he keeps smiling. “thank you.” you said handing it back to steve in his arms as his smile drops at your action then going to pick up a different gift. it was box shaped as you went to rip open the wrapping paper, you stopped smiling when you fully saw what was in your hands.

a action figure of sam, you close your eyes and have him a stare, “wow, thanks—that action figure will help you with anything.” sam said patting your shoulders while you put the you on the table as you picked up a small wrapped box.

the next you picked up was in a bag, you opened it and saw a farmed picture of you and tony bit it was sweet because on the bottom was engraved with your intials. you looked up at tony, “thank you.” you thanked when you picked up a small wrapped box with a red bow on it.

sam looked up and told you that bucky had brought you that, you nodded opening the wrapping paper and saw it was a jewelry box. you slowly opened it and gaped at the thing that was inside, you grabbed it lacing it around your finger tips. “oh, my god. this is beautiful.” you spoke gawking at the jewelry.

when you and bucky were hanging out one day, you both passed a shop and you guys saw on the window a ring that had gems like the one your mother gave you when you were a kid. you couldn’t believe how long that time had passed and he just remembered like it wasn’t a long time that had passed.

steve looked up, “sure but can you play it on a plane?” he asked motioning towards his checkers that he had given to you.

“i can’t believe he would do that, that looks expensive.” nat said getting up and examining the jewelry in your hand as wanda does the same when sam chuckled to himself. everyone looking at his direction when he did growing confused. he looked up and looked at everyone, “remember back in one of the missions when he fell in love with that one girl and bought her that ridiculously expensive figurine.”

steve widened his eyes at sam when he just let those words out of his mouth when you turned your attention to sam. shocked from what he just said, “what did you just say?” you asked when steve leaned back in his chair grabbing a beer to see how this would all unhold. sam finally recognized his mistake and widened his brown eyes looking at steve then back at you and everyone else.

bruce furrowed his eyebrows and looked at clint for help to see what was happening but no one knew what to say. everyone stayed silent and not speaking until sam cleared his throat and inhaling slowly to try to say something else instead. it wasn’t a way to help him get a easy way out right now. “figurine.” nat scratched the back of her head and winced at sam for exposing how bucky felt.

“no. no. no. the, um, the love part?” you explained holding up your thumb and pointer finger signaling about the other part sam spoke about. sam sat up straight and started stammering at your direction but then stopped as nothing was coming out. it took you a second to realize what that meant, bucky loves you. “oh, my god!” you covered your mouth when wanda went to run your back to comfort you.

sam rubbed his forehead together, it might of been a way to stop something from happening. steve got up and grabbed a cold beer from the cooler and and gives it to you—“yeah, just drink you problems away. works for me.” a comment from clint winking at you as you sigh looking back at sam to say something else. when he doesn’t you get up and put the cold drink down and walk to the kitchen.

“wow this huge, i don’t think any of our likes will be the same. and you’re screwed.” natasha spoke getting up and patting sam on his shoulders knowing the consequences that were about to happen when bucky would enter the apartment. you stood there waiting to see what you would do in this situation, wanda got up and squealed. “this is so great, you and bucky! see, i told you!” she said to you.

you rolled your eyes at wanda’s excitement about the thought of you two getting together. of course you felt happy finally understanding his feelings for you. but you were still shocked that he would even have feeling for you. after all the little flirting, you couldn’t finally tell him how you feel. you thought it would be too much for both of you.

“well we don’t know if he actually has these feeling for you… we shouldn’t be trusting anything sam is saying—yes! vision is right, don’t trust me. let’s all forget this, this is just small, minor, petite, meh.” sam spoke when wanda glared at vision who raised his hands up and sat back down watching the females. nat went to ask you if you know about anything, “i mean, my first night training, he mentioned something about asking me out but he never did. well, wh-what else did he say? i mean, does he wanna go out with me?” you asked sitting next to steve waiting to hear from him.

“well, knowing he’s like head over heals for you. i’m guessing yeah maybe some coffee would be nice.” scott shrugged as everyone looked back at him as he spoke about that. “did anyone else know?” you asked when some heads went down, scott, clint, steve, bruce, nat and tony as he hid his head way shamefully. you widened you eyes when you saw nat looking down and slapping her in the arm slightly.

she stepped back when you did, “ow. you hit hard—why didn’t you tell me nat?” you questioned you friend while she told that bucky made her promise to not tell you. you finally got up from the couch, “i need to talk to him—he’s in the bathroom—ours.” sam and steve both said rapidly to stop you from talking to him. you walked into your room to take a quick moment for yourself.

“what are you even gonna say to him? y/n.” nat asked you walking towards you as you shrugged at her, surely not knowing what to say walking over to her and putting off the drink. “i dont know--well if you're just gonna break his heart then maybe just hold off because that can wait till tomorrow,” sam said rushing towards you and grabbing your forearm and projecting his fake love towards you. “y/n, i love you! deal with me first!” sam announced as you furrowed your eyebrows and left your apartment to go ee bucky.

sam groaned in frustration once you left, once you turned the corner to see bucky’s door, your smile faded once you saw bucky kissing some brunette, you sighed. he seemed so into that girl and you didnt want to ruin any of buckys happiness for him. it pained you deeply to see some girl with the one person that you might actually were meant to be. 

you turn around quickly and run back to your apartment and shut the door immediately and fall back on the door blowing the hair out of your face. wanda goes over, “what happened?—he, uh, h-he was kissing and h-holding.” you stammered losing your breath from the running you did as they all grew confused with you. the next thing they heard was a knock on the door as you jump back getting startled.

“hey… it’s me bucky. can you let me in.” you close your eyes before sighing and opening the door to see bucky and the brunette from before hands on her waist as they all looked at them, shock throughout their faces as you coughed so that they wouldn’t stare anymore. “who’s this buck?” steve asked waiting for bucky, “this is laila, laila these are my friends and y/n.” you stepped back not understanding why he was leave you out like that.

“well this so fun. just peachy, you thirsty?” you taunted but not enough to make sure some one noticed, you grabbed a wine bottle and pours red wine onto a glass to help yourself. she refused your offer while getting closer to him as you say everyone looking at you with sympathy. you shook your head while speaking up. “you know it’s getting late. i have work tomorrow, i am just gonna head to bed—this has been so much fun.” you laughed at them.

you closed your eyes as sam went to grab the glass of wine as you stopped him and grabbed the whole bottle to do what clint had suggested from before. you heard everyone telling you to stay but you couldn’t bear look at bucky any different now.

you went to your room, shutting the door as you put the bottle on your desk and plopped onto your bed sighing for the millionth time. it would take you awhile to get used to something like this.

[checkingoutforheroes]

Natasha’s Birthday.

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Words: 2786

Warning: None? I think.

Genre: Just fluffff. I PROMISE!

AU Notes: I suggest you listen to Uptown Girl by Westlife or Billy Joel while reading this💃🏻🕺🏻

Synopsys: Natasha is not happy to celebrate her own birthday party without her love life. Can Y/n make it?

              People starts filling the party area in the compound. Perks of being Tony Stark best friend, he will never miss any of your guy���s birthday. Party is a must! Natasha try to hid her sad and disappoint feeling on her own party but fail when Wanda can easily feel and read mind. 

             Y/n have been send to a week mission yesterday and there is no way she can come home. The team acknowledge that and tried their best to cheer their friend up. Thor arrived and Tony greet him. “Right on time, Point Break. Party about to start.” “I couldn’t miss the party. It’s birthday party, there must be a cake. How’s Natasha? I heard Y/n is on a mission.” The god of thunder asking his fellow Avengers. 

            Clint answer him while Tony ask Pepper to call Natasha and Wanda to come down. “This is a secret okay. Do not, any circumstances, tell Natasha this but Y/n is not on a ‘work’ mission.” Thor confuse “What do you mean?” “He means; Y/n is preparing a big surprise for Natasha. It’s more like a show for her. We all kind of have a part in it. Sorry you didn’t have time to rehearse with us.” Steve explaining to him and Thor just sip his drinks happily. “That’s okay. I like watching a show. We have them on Asgard too, when we celebrating something. Like this.”

             “And, done.” Wanda is doing Natasha’s hair and can’t help to hear her thought. “Maybe Y/n will celebrate it with you when she’s back. I know it past your birthday but I also know she definitely celebrating it.” Natasha just smiling on her chair, looking at Wanda through the mirror in front of them. “You invading my privacy.”

           Wanda just giggle to answer to her mentor. “Well you’re not helping by thinking too loud. We all here for you tonight and I swear I can hear Thor already betting with someone, something about a drink?”

          “Thor’s here huh? He’s been away in space but still can manage to come visit his fellow Avengers birthday party. While Y/n was away in a silly mission.” Natasha fake a smile.

          “I understand if you want to strangle Fury right now but it’s time to go.” Someone knocking on the door and Pepper come in to get them. “Well, I’m here to invite this birthday girl to her own birthday party.” Natasha smile at her. “We are going. Let’s go.” Pepper nodding “Good idea. Because Thor is just a step away to get everybody drunk.”

             They can hear the music blasting when they reach to the floor. “I guess you’re the one who handling the guests invitation?” Natasha asking Pepper. “If I let Tony, he’ll invite the whole Manhattan.” “You know me so well now, Pepper.”

           Tony grabs the mic from the DJ and announce Natasha’s arrival. “Ladies and gentlemen, I announcing the arrival of our birthday girl for tonight, The Double Agent imposter.” The crowds go silent and only Tony and Thor are laughing. “I was just kidding. The lovely Natasha Romanoff!!” Now the crowds cheering loudly.

           The party goes smoothly as planned. Some of the guess already drunk, chatting with their friends, playing at the pool table, throwing darts and here they are, in a group, sitting in a lounge, chatting with the birthday girl. “I see there are 3 piles of presents.” Asked by the birthday girl.

“They are from your rich guests here, your fan clubs and your little fans.” Clint told her.

“That’s sweet.” She said and Steve notice something is not right. “What is it? You not like it?”

“I like it.”

“She’ll kill to be here but no choice.” Steve try to makes his friend feel better at her own birthday.

“I asked Fury for an exchange, me instead, but you know that old man.” Clint assure her.

           “Thank you for trying making me feel better. Well, the God is here. What more can I wish for right?” Natasha smile at Thor. “I apologize, I didn’t bring anything from Asgard. I’m from another course and drop by here but I have this humble drink for you.” Thor hand the drink in an antique and unique bottle to Natasha and she takes it. “Thanks! I could really use it now though.” Tony looks unsatisfied at Thor. “And you didn’t bring one for me?!” Pepper interject him “Thanks to that. You are already drunk even when you’re sober.” “I cannot disagree to that statement.” Sam jokes. Clint, Tony and Steve excuse themselves.

          Wanda immediately stops her from drinking that drink. “Why did you stop me?” She asked and Wanda told her to enjoy the party. “You can drink that later because you might want to enjoy your ‘not so boring’ party first. That drink is probably too strong you know, not made for human.” “Everybody else is probably drunk right now, I don’t see why I can’t.” “I can’t let you because-”

         Right on time the music play and Natasha turn her head so fast to the stage when she hears Y/n voice. “...that.” Wanda finishes her sentences. Turns out it’s not just you. There Steve on the keyboard, Clint on drum, Tony on bass guitar and Maria Hill on electric guitar. All wearing the same old S.H.I.E.L.D old uniform, sleeve rolling up. They all have microphone with them and singing as backup vocals as Y/n go lead.

          Uptown girl,

          She’s been living in her uptown world

          I bet she never had a backstreet guy

          I bet her mama never told her why

          I’m gonna try for an uptown girl  (Uptown girl…)

         She’s been living in her white, bright world (white, bright world…)

         As long as anyone with the hot blood can (hot blood can…)

         And now she’s lookin’ for a downtown man (downtown man…)

         That’s what I am

         Her green eyes sparkles bright enough to light up the room when she sees you on stage singing the classic Uptown Girl. She turns to Wanda and Pepper asking whether it is really Y/n or a hologram. “Is that?” Wanda smiles wide and nods. “Yes, that’s Y/n.” Pepper add “I kill Tony myself if that is screen recording or hologram.”

              And when she knows

              What she wants

              From her time

             And when she wake up

             And make up

             Her mind

            She’ll see I’m not so tough (duet with Steve)

            Just because

            I’m in love with an uptown girl  (uptown girl)

           You know I see her in her uptown world (uptown world)

           She’s getting tired of her high class toys (high class toys)

           And all her presents from her

           Uptown boys  (uptown boys)

          She’s got a choice.

          Oh oh oh oh oh oh

          Oh oh oh oh oh oh

           Fury come out of nowhere “It is so awkward to see The Avengers singing. And dancing. Maybe not for Captain America.” Natasha turns to see Fury. “Nick. Is this part of your plan too?” He smiles “How can I not? She’s been begging me for the last two months to not give any of you a mission specifically on this day. It’s worth it.”

Natasha chuckles, out of words. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Fury turns over and showing Natasha’s family. Yes, her family. Alexi, Melina and her little sister Yelena.

Wanda whisper at Natasha’s ear “They are real too.” She nods at Natasha “Go.”

           Thor walks towards Wanda and Fury. “I’ve never seen her smiling that big.” Pepper and Wanda looking at her greeting her family. “Me too.”

          “Such a noble thing you did.” Thor said to Fury and he just smiling. Natasha brings her family to introduce to Wanda, Thor and Pepper. They continue watching the show and Wanda pulls Natasha’s hand when Y/n calling them to come up the stage. “Let’s go. All of us. The band need us.” Pepper let Natasha’s family walks first. Wanda presenting Natasha and let Y/n takes her hand. She goes next to Steve, Pepper next to Tony, Thor doing silly dance next to Maria and be silly together while her family enjoying with all of them near Clint.

             Uptown girl

             You know I can’t afford to buy her pearl

             But maybe when my ship comes in

             She’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been

             And then I win.

Y/n put her hand out for Natasha to take and walking on the stage. Que for her walking. Luckily Natasha play along.

             And when she’s walking

             She’s looking so fine

             And when she’s talking

             She’s say that she’s mine

Y/n pass her to her family and jog towards Tony.

             She’ll say I’m not so tough (duet with Tony)

             Just because

             I’m in love with an uptown girl  (oohhh)

             She’s been living in her white, bread world (oohhh)

             As long as anyone with a hot blood can (ooohhh)

             And now she’s looking for a downtown man (oohhh)

             That’s what I am

             Oh oh oh oh

             Oh oh oh oh

             While the rest of them singing the ‘Oh’ parts, you Y/n whisper to Natasha. “You know the next part. You’ve seen the video.” Natasha shyly looking at her family and friends until Yelena yells “Go! This is one in a lifetime chances.” Natasha looks at Y/n, her smile still plastering at her beautiful face. “Why are you doing this to me?” “Because I love you. Dance with me.” The music continues playing even they stop playing the instruments to gather around just like they practiced. Tony already set the music with Friday and it knows the queue.

             Uptown girl  (uptown girl)

             She’s my uptown girl

             You know I’m in love

             With an uptown girl  (uptown girl)

             My uptown girl

            You know I’m in love

             With a birthday girl  (uptown girl)

            She’s my birthday girl

            You know I’m in love

            With an uptown girl  (uptown girl)

             My uptown girl….

            They let their friend finish that song. Everybody enjoying the moment and each of them have biggest smile on their faces. Even Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D himself. It’s weird but yes, he is smiling. Y/n and Natasha go hugs their friends and family. Y/n stops at Natasha’s family while she’s with Steve and Maria at the other end.

“I know I just met you, but I already like you Y/n.” Melina says to Y/n and Alexi continue. “It’s hard to see her smile like that. Not even when she’s a kid.”

“Take a good care of my sister. I trust you.” Yelena said.

“She doesn’t even trust me! Her father.” Alexi said and Yelena jus rolling her eyes.

            Y/n look at them with hope and grateful in her eyes. “Thank you, for allowing me to marry your daughter, sister. I promise I’ll take care of her.” Yelena sees her sister coming toward them “What are you waiting for? Go put the ring on her finger, in-law.” Y/n smiles big at Yelena’s as she called her sister in-law.

             The crowds getting quiet when Tony put a ‘silent’ sign on the screen above them while the other screen focus on Y/n and Natasha without they even notice. Secretly Tony recording the whole thing since the beginning and make the whole documentary out of it. Y/n surely need to thank him.

             “Happy birthday, Natasha. You, look so, d.. divine. Tonight.” Y/n nervously said to her soon to be fiancé. Hopefully.

              “You sound nervous. You’ve been singing, dancing in front of hundreds people in this room and you’re nervous to praise me?” Natasha cupping your cheek with her right hand. Y/n pull her hand down and Natasha’s sensing something is wrong. “Y/n. What’s wrong?” They didn’t notice that all of The Avengers slowly moves behind Y/n. Even Y/n doesn’t know this part. It was Wanda’s idea. They all get down on their knee when Y/n is on her knee.

              “You’re right. I am nervous, now. I’m speechless. Over the edge, I’m breathless. I understand if… I understand...” Y/n is so nervous and let out a long sigh before looking at Natasha’s family behind her. They all nodding at Y/n. Y/n take a deep breath and pull out a red velvet box that have a diamond engagement ring from her pocket. Y/n get down on her knee.

              To be honest, Natasha is also nervous and shock, mix with happy and overwhelm when she sees not just Y/n who down on one knee but the whole Avengers. Her second family, also bending their knee but she keeps her composure. Y/n turns to see where Natasha’s looking and almost let out tears when she sees them. 

              They both looking eye to eye and Y/n starts talking. “You know how terrible I am with words when I’m nervous. That’s why I’m so bad at espionage. You are the most solid, nothing to solidify. Calm and collected. We avenge together, we mess up together. You know I love you, right? Natasha Romanoff, will you accept my proposal?” Wanda hissing and whisper directly to you from her place “Pssstt… Will you marry me. Will. You. Marry. Me.” Your eyes still lock on Natasha astonishing green eyes. “Sorry. Umm... Will you marry me?”

              “We drive each other mad, but what is love with no pain and suffer.” The whole room is so quiet that they can only listen to their own heart beats. “To you, I’ve never lied. For you, I’d take a life. I swear.” Natasha said eyes still on each other. “Your answer is…….?” Y/n gulp and Natasha smile. “Yes. I’ll marry you, my favorite Avengers.”

              Y/n get up from the floor and hug Natasha a little too strong because why not? She’s over the moon right now. Before Natasha kiss her new fiancé, Y/n turn around and runs to her friends. “SHE SAID YES GUYS! She said the big YES!!”

Pepper stops Y/n. “Y/n, have you kiss her yet?”

“I did hug her.”

They all yell “KISS HER!!” You run towards Natasha and kiss her. “I’m sorry I forget to kiss you. I’m so excited! Can I kiss you now?” Natasha giggles “You’ve never ask my permission before.” Y/n kiss Natasha in front of her family and they awkwardly watch especially Yelena.

“Are you sure she’s an Avenger? Not from any circus camp?” Yelena looking at her sister.

“No.” Natasha let out a small laugh. “No? Are you sure? Yes? No? ” “No…” “Okay if you’re sure, because I want you to be happy.” The sisters hug each other for a while meanwhile Y/n and Wanda hold each other hand jumping up and down like children get what they wish for as Christmas present.  “she said Yes Wanda. I’m getting marry.” “Yes you’re getting marry.”  

“Natasha.” Melina caught her attention. “I’m proud of you. We, all proud of you. You’ve grown to be an incredible woman Natasha.”

“Looooonggg way from Ohio.” Yelena smiles. “I’ll never forget Ohio.” Natasha told he sister.

“She’s a good person, Natasha.” Alexi caught her attention. Seriousness shown on his face, he continues. “She did asked us for our blessing.” “She did what?” Now its her turn to be serious.

“She asked for our blessing. To marry you.”

“Y/n asked for your blessing?”

“Yes. I know! I can’t believe it too until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Hah! You’re marrying a vintage.” Yelena laugh at her sister. “Mom, almost take her down with sniper.”

Natasha look sternly at Melina “Almost! Okay! Almost. I didn’t because she came unarms. Not even a swish blade.” Melina clearing the situation.

“She came to you guys? When?” Natasha asked her family.

“Yeah. Alone. Last month. Why?” Alexi asks her daughter.

“I thought Fury brought you guys here. I never told her where do you live. Only Fury knows, based on my file details.”

“She did break into Maria Hill’s personal computer just to find your original file. No one ever know that you and Barton had an original file. Somehow, she did. She’s a catch Romanoff.” Fury came behind her.

“Thank you.” Natasha at him.

“I have to go. It broke my heart to see the Avengers jumping like that.” He looks at the Avengers. “Lighten up, Fury. Let her have a moment.” Natasha said. “You better tell your fiancé not to break any S.H.I.E.L.D files or computers ever again. I’m watching.” He nods at her family and walks away. The family joins The Avengers drinking and chatting. Natasha greeted by Y/n and put her arm around Y/n neck.

“Hey you.” Y/n smiles.

“Hey fiancé.” Natasha smirking seductively at Y/n.

“Fiancé. Huh, I’d like that.”

“Wait until I call you my wife.”

“I’ll love that.”

Tony snap their picture and post it on instagram and twiter. The news travel so fast and the whole world are happy for them. Who doesn’t get excited. Two of earth mightiest heroes are engaged to each other. Their phones are blown off with calls, notification, texts, emails from fans, reporters, sponsors, government, agencies this, that. All of those are for congratulate the couple.  

[xtrashmammalstefx]

How To Piss Off An Old-Fashioned Ghost (A Zak Bagans SMUT!)

WARNINGS: Smut, cussing, all that jazz.

Special Thanks to: @xcazzax​ who never fails to give me ideas and inspire me to write shit like this. 

We were about to investigate the mecca of haunted hotels. The one place you go to and know you made it as a paranormal investigator. The majestic and infamous Stanley Hotel.

To say the guys and I were ecstatic would be an understatement. I swear you would think we were kids at Disneyland we were so excited. So much so we agreed to take a different approach to this one.

You see normally we’d investigate a place for one night, take a quick nap, and then be on our way home or to the next haunt the next day. For this one though we knew we had to do it differently. After all many people purported having things happen to them during the night whilst everyone else was asleep. So we got ourselves the most haunted rooms and were gonna sleep there the whole night with night vision cameras recording us the whole time.

“Ready to get it on with a cowboy?” I asked Aaron as we were being checked in.

“You know he only goes for the ladies right?” he said. “As in he’d probably react more to you than my bearded ass.”

“Yeah but…”

“Uh, Y/N, did you want your own room or..?” Zak asked.

“I told you I’m not chickening out of the plan,” I said.

“Plan?” Aaron questioned.

“Remember when the guide mentioned Mrs. Wilson having shit fits when unmarried couples share the bed in her room?”

“Oh…” Aaron nodded. “Wait...since when are you and Zak a thing?”

“We’re not,” Zak said. “Which will only add fuel to the fire.”

“Exactly,” I smirked.

“This isn’t an excuse for you two to bone is it?” Nick asked.

“What? NO!” I snapped at him.

“Dude! We’re literally gonna be in front of a camera the whole time!” Zak said starting towards the elevator.

“Yeah ‘cause sex tapes aren’t a thing,” Aaron said. I smacked him on the arm as we stepped into the elevator.

“Dude this is strictly work. As in we plan on remaining professional at all times,” Zak explained. “And the same goes for you two, alright? No scratching your nuts or your ass in front of the camera.”

“And for the love of GOD let’s hope none of you wake up with morning wood,” I added. All three men raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh come on last thing anyone wants is for our careers to go down the crapper all because you all woke up and revealed tents in your pants.”

“She does have a point there,” Zak said shrugging.

“Pun intended,” I muttered making them burst out laughing.

Later that night Zak checked in with our guys while I made myself comfortable under the sheets.

“All good here bro,” Aaron said over the walkie.

“Yeah everything’s good to go here Zak,” Nick added.

“Alright see you in the morning,” Zak said putting the walkie down. He got under the sheets beside me and turned off the light. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it,” I whispered. Zak laid down and I draped my body over him. “Night babe.”

“Night, gorgeous,” Zak said leaning down. His lips pecked mine. It sent a jolt through me; as though his lips had finally found the home they always wanted. My heart drummed in my chest as Zak deepened the kiss.

As his lips lingered on mine he wrapped his arms around me and flipped us over so that he was on top. I pulled back and chuckled. “Babe it’s late,” I said as Zak peppered kisses on my neck. I moaned. “We’re gonna get a noise complaint!”

“Only if you’re too loud,” he said bringing his lips to mine. I ran my arms along his bare back pressing my body closer to his. I guess our act worked a little too well, for not even a moment later Zak screamed. “GAH FUCK!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked as he got off of me.

“Something scratched my back,” he said. “Oh fuck!” He was suddenly tumbling over off of the bed, landing on the floor with a thud. I switched the light on and joined him.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, Mrs. Wilson just nudged me off the bed,” he said.

“Turn around so I can document this,” I said before running to get a camera. Zak turned his back to me the second I got back. “Holy shit.”

“What?” I took out my phone and took a picture of it. I showed it to him and the blood left his face. On his back were three intense scratches. Tiny droplets of blood spurted out of them. “SON OF A BITCH!”

I grabbed my toiletry bag and dug out bandages, a small towel and alcohol. “Bite the blanket,” I said sitting in front of his back.

“What?”

“I’m gonna clean them up,” I said unscrewing the cap. “Bite something before people call the cops on us for murder.” I poured alcohol onto the towel and ran it down Zak’s back. Thankfully he listened and bit down on the blanket so rather than a scream he let out a muffled groan. I blew on the wounds gently then applied the bandages. “Okay you’re good.” I put my first aid stuff and the camera away and checked the night vision cam. It was still running smoothly and caught every single moment of the attack. Once I was done I put the night vision cam back in place and rejoined Zak.

“I think I’ll just sleep down here the rest of the night,” Zak said.

“Alright, um, night I guess,” I said before pecking him on the cheek. I switched the light off and started standing to get back into bed.

“Y/N?” Zak’s voice made me freeze and turn back.

“Yeah?”

“I know I shouldn’t but…” he never finished what he was saying. Instead he leaned in and crashed his lips to mine. The same jolt I’d felt before was back, only this time it was stronger. My whole body melted into his and we laid back on the floor.

“Do-Do you think we could…” I said as he sucked on the skin on my neck. “I mean with the camera right there?”

“Camera’s aimed at the bed,” Zak said. “As long as you don’t make too much noise we should be safe.”

I smirked. “No promises, Bagans.”

He kissed me one more time before helping me off with my shirt. We tossed aside along with my shorts, and panties. Zak’s lips pecked at my breasts. His tongue flicked at my nipples causing a moan to escape from my lips.

“Remind me to apologize to Billy later,” I said.

“I think I’m just gonna have to edit this footage myself,” Zak chuckled. Feeling more excited now I reached down and started nudging his pajama bottoms down. Zak got the hint and pulled them off; his length springing out hard and thick, just like the rest of him.

“Mrs. Wilson is gonna kill us,” I laughed.

“You forgot to ask me if I give a fuck,” Zak said lining himself up with my entrance. “Which, by the way, I fucking don’t.” He pushed in.

I held on to him as he moved inside me. The feeling was something out of this world. I mean sure, I’ve been with other people before (as I’m sure Zak has) but none of those experiences compare to the one I was having with Zak. It was like my body was made for his, and vice versa. I thrill of it only added to it. After all Zak wasn’t exactly the ‘fuck on the job’ kind of guy; on the contrary he was professional at all times. So seeing this change in him now...it felt kind of ballsy...like we were kids again breaking the rules.

Apparently Mrs. Wilson thought the same. “OW FUCK!” I screamed after feeling a sharp pain in my arm. Zak froze.

“What’s wrong?” I pulled my arm back and touched it gently. When I pulled my fingers back they were slightly wet.

“Mrs. Wilson punished me,” I said. I felt him brush his hand on my arm.

“That bitch!” he cursed.

“It’s okay, just-just keep going,” I urged him.

“You sure?” he asked.

“I need to cum real bad so yeah I’m sure.” Zak started thrusting again.

A few minutes later he groaned. “Please tell me that was you,” he said.

“What was me?”

“Fuck!” he groaned. “Mrs. Wilson just scratched my ass.” I fought back a giggle and instead addressed the old bitch.

“Alright if I say I’m going to marry him will you please stop?” I asked Mrs. Wilson.

“Wait what?” Zak looked at me shocked. “You serious right now?”

“Zak, I’ve loved you for so long,” I said. “And, if you’ll let me, I very much want to spend my life with you.”

“I want to spend my life with you too,” he muttered.

“So...does this mean we’re officially engaged?” I asked.

“I-I guess it does,” Zak said.

Very well… I heard someone whisper.

“Did-did she really just give us her fucking approval?” Zak asked laughing.

“I- I think she did,” I chuckled furiously before getting back to the other subject at hand. “Now are you gonna fuck me or do I need to see if Billy is available?”

Zak stopped laughing and growled furiously. “You’d have to be insane if you think I’m gonna let another man fuck you instead of me.” He started thrusting harder, and angrier. He was so wild with rage that his cock hit me right in my sweet spot.

“OH FUCK!”

“Huh you like it when I fuck you there?” Zak asked before hitting the same spot again.

“Fuck baby, yes yes yes,” I moaned. “Right there, right there, right there.” Tension started to brew within me. “Fuck I-I think I’m gonna…” My body tensed up and I tightened around his length, damn near screaming his name.

My body trembled as I came down from my high and as I did Zak tensed up and I felt him twitch inside me. He groaned as he emptied himself inside me. Once he was empty he collapsed beside me.

“Who knew pissing off ghosts could be one hell of a turn on,” I said breathless.

“Pretty sure that was the best sex I’ve had in my life,” Zak said equally breathless.

“I know that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” I said.

We passed out soon after. The next morning we met up with Nick and Aaron in the lobby.

“So how’d your plan go?” Aaron asked.

“Amazingly,” I said blushing.

“Really?” he looked at me curiously.

Zak then approached us with Billy in tow. He wrapped his arm around me and pecked me on the forehead.

“See, I told you it was just an excuse for them to bone,” Nick said.

“Dude during an investigation, really?” Aaron judged us hard.

Zak and I just snuggled into each other and flipped him off.

He judged us still a year later as we enjoyed our wedding reception.

“DURING AN INVESTIGATION!” he went on and on.

We ignored him though and just focused on each other, soaking in the love we felt as Mr. And Mrs. Bagans.

[americasass91]

Pull-Up Contest

So here is my second ever request! Thank you @shythingstudentdragon​! I had a lot of fun with this! It’s kind of a sequel of this 👉🏻 Push-Up Contest. But it can be read as a one shot. Of course it is smutty! My specialty. Haha. Also I just want to take a moment and thank every single person who reads my stories! You’re awesome! You’re extra awesome if you like, comment, or reblog! But I love everyone who reads them! I just put them out there in hopes of helping you escape from this fucked-up world if only for a few minutes. That’s why I read fics. Okay and because I’m a Super Hoe for Chris Evans and more recently Henry Cavill👀. But anyways I’ll shut up! I hope you lovelies enjoy this!

Also. I’m well aware this👇🏻 is Ari and not Steve but fuck me 🥵

Rating: Explicit(duh, it’s me 🤷‍♀️)

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral(m receiving), shirtless Steve(This is a valid warning), language, I think that’s it.

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You were starting to think that there was something seriously wrong with you.

Here you were, at another one of Tony’s parties, supposed to be mingling with everyone and making friends and building stronger relationships.

But all you could think about was your sexy as fuck super soldier and having him pin you down against the pool table he was currently standing at and fucking you until you couldn’t see straight.

It was his fault really. Ever since 2 months ago when he and Tony had that push-up contest and you’d asked him to fuck you after, he couldn’t stop.

You’d be minding your own business and just walking to the gym for a workout when all of a sudden you’d be pulled into a closet and Steve would have his way with you.

Or you’d be having a movie night with the Avengers and he’d bring you to orgasm on his fingers as many times as your body would allow under the blanket you two shared.

So really this was all his doing. The fact that you were sitting at the bar with yet another Amaretto Sour and clenching your thighs together is all his fault.

There he is playing pool with his stupid perfect blonde hair. And his stupid tight, blue button up shirt. And his stupid tight, black pants.

You know exactly what’s in those pants and you can’t help but feel needy. You are trying your best to control yourself. You even keep trying to pull Nat into a conversation but then zone out when she starts telling a story.

She’s just about to snap her fingers to get your attention when a commotion starts over near the couches.

You both walk over in time to see Clint attempting to lift Mjolnir off the table.

You go sit by Steve who kisses your cheek. “Um, What’s he doing? He knows he can’t lift that right?”

Steve chuckles. “Well he’s had a little to drink and Thor told him only people who are worthy can lift it so naturally Clint thinks he’s worthy.”

You roll your eyes. Next Tony stands up and starts pulling at it. He has no luck. He quickly leaves the room.

You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck. “Well, what about you? Think you can lift it?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I may be a little tipsy on Asgardian Mead, but even I know I’m not worthy either.”

Your eyes widen a bit. You pull back and study his face. His cheeks do look a little flushed and his smile is a little dopier than usual. You’ve never seen Steve anything close to tipsy before.

“I bet you could. You should give it a shot. You’re my big, strong super soldier.”

His eyes darken a bit and he leans in to whisper, “I think there are other ways I’d rather show off my strength to you, baby girl.”

Shivers go down your spine. But before you have a chance to respond, Tony returns. This time he has the right arm from his suit on. “It’s just physics.” He exclaims as he goes and grabs the hammer again.

And to no one’s surprise, he fails again. He scoffs and tells Rhodey to go get a piece of his suit.

Steve is trying his best to hold in his laughter. As is everyone else in the room. The almighty Tony Stark can’t lift Mjolnir.

Rhodey comes back and they both attempt to lift it with no luck. Eventually everyone who wants a turn in the room has tried and failed. Steve is losing it at this point. All because Tony can’t get over the fact that he’s not worthy.

“What’s so funny Captain Righteous? You think you’re worthy to lift it? Why don’t you give it a try?”

Steve rolls his eyes and stands up. “Tony I really don’t need to prove anything to you. You’re still pissed that I wiped the floor with your ass with that push-up contest you challenged me to.”

Wow, it may be the Asgardian Mead talking but damn. He was being a little cocky and fuck if it wasn’t turning you on.

“You know something was wrong with my suit! And what are you too afraid you won’t be worthy? Go ahead. Everyone else has tried.”

Steve rolls up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. Fuck. You cross your legs and clench your thighs together.

“Fine, I’ll try my best.”

He grabs the handle and tries to lift it. You swear you see it move just a fraction. But then he pulls again and nothing.

“Ha! Even the great old Captain America can’t lift it!” Tony points and laughs at Steve.

Steve looks pissed. He goes and stands in front of Tony and pokes his finger to his chest. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, Stark? Sure I can’t lift the hammer, but I can certainly lift other stuff.”

He goes over to the couch where Bruce and Nat are sitting and bends down and lifts it up over his head. Holy shit. Well there go your panties.

He gently places the couch back down. He then smirks and starts flexing his arms. “You couldn’t do that without your precious suit Tony. So just admit I’m stronger and let’s get on with our lives!”

Tony scoffs. “Like I’d go down without a fight! How is my suit any different than you being genetically enhanced? You wouldn’t be able to even breathe without that serum swimming through your veins! Hell you’d probably even be dead! So I think it’s still a fair fight when I use my suit against your ‘muscles’.” Tony put the last word in quotation marks with his fingers and then crosses his arms and raises his eyebrow expectantly at Steve.

“Fine! If you think you’re so amazing then how about another contest? A Pull-Up one this time? If you think you can handle it?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Bring it on, Capsicle!”

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Next thing you know, everyone from the party is down in the gym making bets on who’s going to win. You refuse to engage in such childish antics. You’re standing off to the side with Steve who has done a few more shots of Asgardian Mead.

“Babe, are you sure you want to do this? I mean you already proved yourself with the push-ups.”

He rolls his eyes and waves you off. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Let me just take a few seconds to kick his ass and then I’ll take you back to my room to celebrate my win.” He gives you a wink that goes straight to your still-wet pussy.

Tony saunters in with Rhodey with both arms of his suit on. He meets Steve at the pull-up bars. “Alright, ready to lose you old timer?”

Steve scoffs. “Bring it on, tin man.”

They are about to jump up to the bars when there is a shout from the back of the crowd. “WAIT!”

Everyone turns toward the voice which happens to belong to a very inebriated Maria Hill. “They should do this shirtless!”

“I really don’t see how doing this shirtless is going to-” Tony gets cut off by girlish screams coming from the audience. He looks over and sees that Steve has already removed his shirt and is posing and flexing his muscles.

“I think doing this shirtless is a great idea!” He smirks over at Tony, knowing full well he has the better physique of the two.

Tony scoffs once again. “Oh please, let me show you what real muscles are supposed to look like. Not ones that came from a bottle.”

He of course makes Rhodey put on some kind of sultry song while he seductively strips his shirt as best he can over the arms of his suit. He throws his shirt in Pepper’s direction. He of course has to do a few poses himself. Making sure his muscles are also on display. Which you have to admit aren’t too bad. Nothing compared to your super soldier, but still, not too bad.

Rhodey stands in front with a stopwatch. “Alright ladies! Let’s please get this over with because there is still more alcohol to be drunk!” The crowd cheers at that.

You move over to stand beside Nat. “So who are the odds for?”

She smirks as she’s counting her money. “Oh easy. After that last display, Steve.”

You smirk back. “Well I’m biased but if I was betting, that’s who I’d put my money on too.”

She raises her eyebrow at you. “It’s not too late to make a bet.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not going to bet on my friend’s failure, Nat. I told you that.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

You move your gaze back up to Steve who is now somehow in the middle of a posing contest with Tony. They look fucking ridiculous if you’re being honest. You just smack your forehead and shake your head.

“Alright, Barton! Banner! Get up here! Banner, you’ll be counting for Stark and Barton you’ll be counting for Rogers.” He glances back at the two flexing morons. “And please let’s hurry before they embarrass themselves further.”

You chuckle at the look Steve is now giving Rhodey. He reluctantly stops flexing and gets back into position. Tony mimics him.

“Alright, the most pull-ups in 60 seconds will be the winner! Ready? Set? Go!”

Once again you are so glad you don’t have to count for Steve. They are both going way too fast for you to keep up. But then Steve starts grunting every time he pulls himself up and that steals all of your attention. It’s the same sound he makes when he’s fucking you and you can’t handle yourself.

He must be focusing on you because all of a sudden he makes eye contact. You bite your lip and clench your thighs. He smirks and let’s go of the bar with his left hand and starts doing one armed pull-ups. Jesus Christ. He winks at you. His pace has only faltered a little. You still think he’s going to win. God damn you can’t wait until he takes you-

“Time! Alright let’s see how our ladies did!” Rhodey turns to Bruce. “Okay, Banner. How many did our Tin Man do?”

Bruce replies with 214.

The crowd erupts into cheers. “Okay! Okay! Settle down! We need to get the other number before we get all crazy!” He turns to Clint. “Okay Barton. How did Cap do?”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and flexes. He throws a smirk your way.

Clint raises his head and smirks at Banner. “350.”

Steve starts clapping. “And the best man won, again!”

Tony lowers his head in defeat. “Well, Capsicle. Good match. I’ll get you in something eventually.” Steve goes over and shakes his hand. “I look forward to it, Tin Man.”

You look over at Nat. “So what are you going to do with all of that money?”

She shrugs as she counts it. “Maybe donate it? Buy some expensive shit I don’t need? Not sure yet.”

You shake your head and make your way over to Steve. He’s buttoning his shirt back up. “That was quite impressive there, super soldier.”

He just smirks and picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal as he smacks your ass. “We’re going for a swim to celebrate!”

“Put me down, Steven!” You try to say with authority but fail when a giggle escapes you.

Tony points at your retreating forms. “So help me god if you fuck in that pool!”

Steve turns quickly to look at Tony. “What do you expect, Stark? We’ve already christened the kitchen, the gym, the movie room, and several utility closets. Might as well christen the pool too!”

“Fine! Alright everyone! Pool party!” Tony screams. The crowd cheers and heads in the direction of the pool.

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Steve finally sets you down when you get in the elevator. “Well now what, genius? You didn’t have to tell him your plan of fucking me in the pool.”

He smirks. “That was never my plan, baby girl.” He presses the emergency stop on the elevator. “I’ve always wanted to take you in an elevator. Now I believe I won a contest so I think I deserve my cock sucked. So.” He looks from you to the floor as he unbuckles his belt and lowers his pants and briefs enough to free his rock hard cock. He hisses as its slaps against his abdomen. “Well what are you waiting for, sweetheart? It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You cross your arms and raise your brow at him. “And just what makes you think I even want to suck your cock?”

He smirks and presses his body up against you and backs you up against the wall. His erection is now pressed against your stomach. You can feel his precum leaking through your shirt.

He puts his hands on either side of your head and leans in to whisper in your ear. “Because you want me to fuck that sweet pussy don’t you? You’d do anything for me to fill you up. Make you come so hard around my cock that you can’t even remember your own name. And because I can smell your arousal, baby girl. I know you want to. Now why don’t you be my good girl and get on your knees and open that pretty little mouth for me?”

As much as you hate to admit when he’s right, you know he is. Without any hesitation you lower yourself on your knees and open your mouth.

He groans as you look up at him. He strokes your cheek and grabs the base of his cock. “So fucking pretty on your knees for me.” He brings the tip to your mouth and smears his precum around your lips. Then he proceeds to push the head inside. You place your hands on his thighs for leverage and start sucking his tip and making sure your tongue is licking over the slit. He moves one hand to the back of your head and grabs your hair. He places his other hand against the wall.

You remove your mouth from his cock and lean back and take some deep breaths. He looks down at you. “Getting ready to take me in that throat, dirty girl?”

You nod your head and once again lean forward. This time you take him all the way down until his pubic hair is tickling your nose. You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can while running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his dick. You start counting to 10 in your head.

“God damn, look at you. My little cockslut swallowing me whole. I’ve taught you so well.” He moves the hand that’s on your cheek down to your throat. “Fuck baby, I can feel myself in there.”

You get to 10 and pull off of him.You take a deep breath and wipe the tears that have fallen down your face away.

He tilts your chin up. “You are doing so good baby. So good for me. Can you swallow me one more time? Then I’ll fuck that tight, little cunt.”

You moan at his words. “Yes, Captain. I’ll be a good girl and swallow your cock again.”

You lean forward and take him in your mouth all the way down again. You begin to suck and work your tongue. Steve is grunting and cursing above you. You don’t even make it to 7 when he’s pulling your off of him and raising you to your feet.

He pushes you against the wall and crashes his lips onto yours. He hastily unbuckles your belt and pushes your jeans and panties down in one go. You quickly kick them and your sandals off to the side.

Steve moves his mouth down to your neck and starts sucking on the spot that drives you insane. He takes his right hand and movies it in between your legs to your heated core. He’s instantly met with wetness. He growls against your neck and proceeds to push 2 fingers inside you until he’s knuckle deep.

You grab onto his shoulders for support and whimper out his name. He takes his left hand and starts pinching your nipple through your shirt and bra.

You start grinding against his hand. You move your fingers up into his hair and tug. “Stevie, please. Need you.” You’re able to moan out.

He smirks against your neck and removes his fingers. He brings them up to your lips. You waste no time and suck them into your mouth, enjoying the taste of your arousal on them.

He releases his fingers and grabs your thighs and hoists you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. “Are you ready, baby girl? I don’t think this will take very long. You got me too worked up with your pretty, little mouth.”

You quickly nod and once again tangle your fingers in his hair. “I don’t care. Just please fuck me, Captain.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. “Guide me in, sweetheart.”

You move one hand in between you and grab a hold of his cock and move it towards your entrance. You ruin the head along your opening a few times, getting it nice and coated in your slick. As soon as you remove your hand, Steve snaps his hips forward and fills you with one thrust.

You scream out into the otherwise empty elevator. Grabbing onto Steve’s shoulders, nails digging in. “That’s right baby. You like the way my cock fills you up? Like feeling me that deep?”

You can only nod in response. He gives you a few more seconds to adjust before he starts thrusting at a brutal pace. You can only hang on and enjoy the ride.

“So fucking tight. God damn I love this cunt. Like it was made just for me. Isn’t that right, baby? Your cunt was made for my big, fat cock wasn’t it?”

You whimper out what you think is a yes. You’re not entirely sure. With every thrust his tip kisses your cervix in the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. You already know your orgasm is going to be intense. You can feel it building.

“Fuck baby, I can feel you squeezing me. Gonna be a good girl and come for me? Come all over my dick?”

“Harder, please Stevie.” You are able to moan out while tugging his hair hard enough to make him growl. He obliges and starts slamming into you harder. His hands on your thighs tighten even more. His lips attach to your neck. You know there’s going to be bruises and hickeys tomorrow. You could care less.

All you cared about right now is being here in this moment with your Steve. Even though he was fucking you stupid in an elevator, you couldn’t help but think how much you cared about him. You were so in love with him it stole your breath away.

He moves his lips up to your ear and bites your earlobe. “Come on, baby girl. Come for me. Need you to milk me. I know you can do it. I know you’re close. I can feel you. Come for me, pretty girl.”

That was all you needed. You came with some kind of mix of a scream and a moan. You’re not even entirely sure what you said. You just know you have tears running down your face from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

Steve stops thrusting and still inside of you. It takes you a minute to realize he’s no longer moving. You look up confused. At the same time you both say,

“Did you come?”

“What did you just say?”

You look at him with what you can only assume is a confused expression. “I didn’t say anything...did I?” You try to bring up any recollection of the thoughts that were going through your head the moment you reached your high. You couldn’t come up with anything.

Steve helps you out. “You said, ‘I love you’.”

You chuckle for a minute and then your eyes go wide as you stare into his beautiful, ocean eyes.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

You guys hadn’t said that to each other yet and here you are screaming it out mid orgasm inside of an elevator.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I was in the throes of passion. I didn’t even realize I said it.” You cup his face.

You can swear you see disappointment flash in his eyes.

“Oh. So, you didn’t mean it.” His gaze falls onto the wall behind you.

You grab his cheeks with more force and move his head so he’s looking at you again. “I didn’t say that.”

The corners of his lips raise slightly. He looks so adorable and vulnerable right now. Like the man before the serum. “Really? You love me?”

You beam at him and lean in for a passionate kiss. Hoping to show just how much you love him through it. “Of course I do, you big meatball.”

He laughs and rests his forehead on yours. “I love you, too. So much. Tell me again.”

You smile, happy to oblige. “I love you, Stevie.” You feel his cock twitch inside you. He groans and starts thrusting again. He moves his head into the crook of your neck.

You hear him mutter into your neck. “Again.”

“I love you, Steve.” You tangle your hands in his hair as his thrusts return to their brutal pace from before. You can feel his cock twitching even more. You know he’s close.

You move your mouth to his ear. “Come for me, baby. I love you. I love you so much, Steve.”

You hear your name in the form of a moan falling from his mouth as he pushes himself all the way in and releases inside of you.

You both just stay like that for a moment. Clinging to each other. Coming down from your highs. Both from your orgasms and from your confessions.

After a few minutes, Steve raises his head up and pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You smile so big, you think all of your teeth are showing. “I love you too, Steve.”

He was about to say something else when he’s cut off from a voice from above.

“Look, as much as I’d hate to break up this beautiful moment, I have something to say….Are you guys fucking kidding me?? The elevator? You know that’s the elevator I take everyday! You fucking did this on purpose!”

You and Steve burst into laughter at Tony’s anger.

“Oh yeah you’re laughing it up now! You won’t be when I make you take the stairs for a month for this little tryst! Your elevator privileges are hereby suspended!”

Steve smirks at you mischievously. “Ooh, we haven’t done it in the stairwells yet!”

“God dammit” you both hear from the speaker.

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​, @drabblewithfrannybarnes​, @harrysthiccthighss​

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xii 

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: PG-15 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: none to note

word count: 2.6k

g/n: jungkook is a brat wbk; also,,, hoseok here is supposedly as old as seokjin heh i had an internal debate whether or not i should include two other scenes but aslkdfjkasljfas but i ended up with this instead skjff hope yall enjoy!! 

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

The orientation went by like a breeze with Ms. Narae’s quick run throughs of Woocheon’s clinical processes and systems, training programs, hospital expectations, and the explanation of the rest of the map of the hospital you weren’t able to cover during your tour earlier. Before she wraps up, she retrieves your IDs from underneath the table and places them on top of the desk for everyone to get later.  She dismisses the orientation exactly ten minutes before twelve, requesting everyone to head straight to their department’s on-call room after the break.

Soomin, who you’ve recently discovered to have her own Youtube channel, takes out her phone and records a video. You watch from the side as Soomin does her thing, until she tries to call you all over and officially introduce you as good friends turned work colleagues to all her subscribers. 

You hadn’t really expected this whole vlogger thing from her, especially when Soomin was a bit reserved when you were first acquainted with each other, but then again, as your friendship grew, you realized that she had a bit of Chohee in her as well and you thought that’s what caused you to gravitate towards her naturally. 

“Anybody up for lunch?” Soomin asks, rubbing her hands together after she finishes her short recording and tucks her phone back in her pocket. “Yeah, I’m starving...” you murmur, placing a hand on your belly as you hear your stomach grumble its complaint. 

“I heard Woocheon is known to have the best hospital food in Korea. Ever.” Jungkook says, looking around. You’re starting to get skeptical about how Jungkook is lingering around Jimin...Or was it the other way around now? “Shall we?” With Jungkook’s undeniable proposition, Soomin briefly glances at your reluctant face, her own lips pursing with your reaction. “Fine,” you sigh. 

There’s no getting rid of Jungkook now. 

Woocheon’s cafeteria...does not look like a cafeteria at all. 

You weren’t expecting an...urban haven of some sort, a portion of the hospital that you had least envisioned to what seems to be the warmest part of Woocheon. The laminated flooring, faux wooden grain wall panels, along with the suspended lights from this wave-like uneven wooden ceiling - it was as picturesque as a spread on an interior design magazine. 

The interior could easily outrival any other kitchen in the city. “Are you sure this is not some hotel we just walked into?” Jimin questions as he marvels over the sleek urban design of the cafeteria. There’s even a café - which you recognize holds the same logo as Good Day café. You ought to confirm this with Jimin later. 

As you near the serving area, the unmistakable aroma of roast beef fills your senses, making you hungrier than you were just seconds before. “Please don’t tell me Woocheon is actually serving roast beef...” 

You practically salivate at the sight of the food in the counters, a lot of which you realized were influenced by western food culture. There were three different kinds of salad to choose from, baked potatoes, burgers, seafood stew, stir-fried meat, as well as the Korean classic side dishes that you’d never miss in a meal.  And, true to your trusty sense of smell, roast beef was at the end of the line up in all its roasted glory.  

“Yeap,” Soomin says as she turns to face you, “You have three options for the sauce too: mushroom gravy, pepper sauce, or truffle sauce,” Soomin replies matter-of-factly, pointing at the farther end of the food counter. 

“Oh I love this place already!” Exclaims Jimin who’s undecided between eating to his heart’s content and risking a stomachache on the first day of work, or sacrifice half of the dishes for a later time in your stay at Woocheon. Thankfully, Jimin decides on the former. 

“Make sure you have your IDs ready,” Jungkook announces as he joins the line after you. “You’ll have to tap it against this tiny device then they will automatically deduct the total amount of the food you got from your account.”  

Jimin’s face falls instantly at the realization. Jungkook claps the other man’s back, face crumpled as he keeps his laughter in. “Still love this place, Jimin-ssi? Don’t worry now, the three of us can pretend we didn’t hear anything at all.” 

With features forlorn, Soomin makes a hilarious attempt to appease Jimin’s disappointment by stating facts - “Jimin-ah. Hospital food isn’t free.” 

“Yeah. I realize that now,” Jimin replies, an ingenuine smile playing on his lips. 

“Cheer up though! Ms. Narae did mention faculty and staff get a five percent discount on all hospital services...just so happened that they included the cafeteria there as well.” 

Albeit reluctant about the price, Soomin manages to convince your entire group to try out the roast beef for once (and probably your last too. Figures.) “Oh, and by the way, there is one thing that’s free actually. It’s the drink of the day - free for all staff. One each, and available during lunch only.” 

Your eyes travel to the end of the counter straight away at Soomin’s reminder. Calculating the number of cartons left and the people left in the queue, you’re beyond pleased at the fact that you’ll be able to get a free 250ML carton of banana milk today, and also the last person to do so. 

Unfortunately for you, a staff member returns to the counter and retrieves a tetra pack, claiming it was for a senior doctor who forgot to claim the drink. Much to your dismay, a middle-aged man in a white coat was waving to the counter, with his other hand pointing to his tray to prove that he really wasn’t able to take any milk with him. You can’t hide the scowl that creeps on your face. 

Through your peripheral vision, you notice Jungkook closely monitoring the milk as well, the same look of disappointment evident on his face. Maybe losing the milk wasn’t that bad. After all, if you couldn’t one, Jungkook wouldn’t be able to score one either. 

While Jimin checks out his food, one of the kitchen staff suddenly retrieves another carton from the other side of the counter, mumbling about how it must’ve fallen over earlier. You were just about to grab it when the lady at the till calls you next, and you’re forced to move your tray sideward so she can calculate the total amount of your order.  

When you look up to grab your free drink, Jungkook reaches out at the same time and manages to snatch the milk quicker than you. “Hey!” Jungkook simply shrugs his shoulders at your indignant tone. “Sorry darling, finders keepers.” 

You stare at him in disbelief, until the lady calls for Jungkook next, a little too loud for your liking. Your eyeroll comes almost involuntarily, and you shake your head as you follow where Jimin and Soomin were headed to as they look for a seat. 

Jungkook arrives shortly after you do, so you immediately lose the chance to rant about your annoyance towards the latter. He decides to sit across you and you don’t have the chance to complain about it either when he sticks the straw in his milk while he smirks at you. 

What an actual kid. 

You promised yourself you won’t let him get to you, choosing inner peace over fighting with a brat. Besides, two can play at this game, and it’s going to take more than a small carton of milk for him to truly vex you, so you simply smile at him back, returning the favor (of course, while secretly wishing he might choke on his banana milk too).  

“Would you guys mind if I recorded a little bit?” Murmurs of agreement are heard across the table. “Alrightey then,” says Soomin, “This time, none of you boys will be able to escape the camera this time around.” Just as you’d expected, Jimin and Jungkook whine in chorus, vocally expressing their petulance towards Soomin’s ‘vloggering’. 

“Hey! For all you know, you two might even bring more subscribers when I put you two as my thumbnail!” 

“I’m shy…” Jimin argues as he poorly covers his face with his small ID, yet continues to peek through the small gap between the card and the lanyard. 

Soomin rolls her eyes at their childishness and records her food first, praising how surprisingly appetizing the hospital food is. She proceeds to pan the camera towards you as you say hi for the second time today. As Soomin moves onto Jimin, he instantly puts his ID down and waves at the camera sporting a cute smile. “Everyone, this is what ‘camera shy’ looks like nowadays.” 

On the other hand, Jungkook, shameless as ever, pretends to not pay any regard to the camera but he decides to chew on his food with much suave, jaw tightening with every bite of the beef. Soomin calls on Jungkook to say hi, to which he responds by introducing himself and punctuating his statement with a flirty wink. 

For some reason, you feel your stomach drop at the action, causing you to look away momentarily while Soomin instantaneously switches back to her front camera, “Okay, everyone, let’s just pretend these two weren’t flirting with the camera just now.” Soomin shakes her head at the two, deciding that was enough content about lunch at the hospital cafeteria. 

“Shame the camera couldn’t handle it,” Jimin says, pouting as he places a hand over his chest. 

“Maybe it was the lady behind the camera that couldn’t,” adds Jungkook who continues to wink, alternating both his eyes before making a weird face. 

“Okay Jeon. I think that’s enough winking for today.” 

Jungkook wouldn’t stop though and Soomin finally looks at you for help, “Diagnosis: winkitis, ophthalmologist recommends immediate enucleation.”

“Of course! How could I forget? A wink for this young lady over here too.” Jungkook turns to you now but you simply squint your eyes at him as you fake choking on thin air, “I think I might have lost my appetite altogether.” 

As the three of you head back to the locker rooms to retrieve your stuff before going to the surgery department, another hospital staff stops briefly on their way to greet Soomin. It’s the third time in ten minutes and you’re starting to think Soomin knows not just ‘someone’ from the hospital. Strangely enough, they all seemed like they came from different departments too. This particular person must be of high authority or someone really famous to have people greet her as often as this. 

When you round the corner, at the end of the corridor is a lady in formal attire, sporting the same ID as yours  and it’s Soomin who approaches this person this time. As she pulls the person aside, she urges the three of you to go ahead, telling you she’ll catch up in a moment, leaving you sandwiched between Jimin and Jungkook who tower over you easily. 

“Jimin, do you happen to know who it is exactly she knows here?” 

The blond shakes his head no. “She’s never mentioned anybody in particular...all I know too is that she knows somebody here.” 

“Some relatives perhaps? Maybe she’s a family member of a renowned doctor here?” 

“How about her Youtube channel? Maybe she’s famous then? How many followers does she have?” 

You quickly tap on Youtube on your phone with Jungkook’s prodding, looking up her channel on the app. “It says here she’s got quite the following actually... “ you tilt the screen for them to see, “six thousand followers…” 

“That can’t be it. The second one who greeted her was at least in his mid-fifties...Boomers couldn’t have possibly been following...what does she vlog about again? Um… a day in the life of a med student…” 

From behind you, you faintly hear a ‘goodbye’ and you clear your throat, alerting the two of Soomin’s return. “What were you guys going on about here?” 

Jungkook chuckles, smoothly making up an alibi as he takes your phone in his hands, “Hope you don’t mind us checking out your channel…” Surely enough, your screen was showing a video of Soomin studying for her finals. 

“As long as you subscribe, it’s fine with me.” She gives you all a thumbs up. “It’s been a while since I posted anything though...Maybe if we get to the on-call room early, maybe I could film a few shots too! Come on!”  Soomin hooks your arm in hers and drags you to the locker rooms, leaving the two boys standing there in the middle of the hallway.

You figure the four of you were the first interns to arrive, as most of the doctors lounging around were either in their scrubs or heading out for lunch. “Soomin,” Jungkook seemingly deep in thought, taps the girl’s shoulder. 

“Hmm?” 

“Remember when you bumped into me on the day of our graduation...you were with someone right? Um...Jung...Ho...I can’t quite remember his name…” 

“Oh you mean Jung Hoseok? He’s my cousin.” 

As Jungkook opens his mouth to reply, someone calls Soomin from the other side of the room. “Soomin! You’re here!” You spot the surgeons you’ve met during the hospital tour earlier this morning - Dr. Min Yoongi, Dr. Kim Seokjin, and Dr. Kim Namjoon. You all bow promptly as soon as they stand up. 

“I didn’t really have that much of a choice,” Soomin grumbles as she gets squished with each of the doctors’ hugs. “Come on! You’re saying that as if Woocheon isn’t any good at all!” 

The three of you stand awkwardly in the corner while Soomin and the other doctors mingle with each other. You nudge Jungkook’s elbow, “Hey what’s with Soomin’s cous--?” 

“Oh right! These are my friends - ________, Park Jimin, and Jeon Jungkook.  We’re all under your care now.” The three doctors call you over, extending their arms out for a handshake, “Ready to lose your social life?” Dr. Min asks, his bright tone contrasting his drift. 

“It’s an honor to meet you Dr. Min, Dr. Kim, and Dr. Kim.” You bow curtly. “Oh doctor? It's too much! Call us sunbae instead. Oppa is cool too when we’re not working.” Dr. Seokjin’s handshake lingers a little longer than usual and you feel your cheeks start to heat up. “Besides, I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.” 

Yoongi visibly grimaces at Seokjin’s words, while Namjoon covers his face with his hands, mumbling, “Hyung.... For the love of god, please make sure the patients never ever hear that…” 

Namjoon’s reaction elicits laughter from the whole group, but someone’s laugh stands out above all and it’s coming from the other side of the door. Soomin seems to recognize the voice instantly. “He’s here!” 

“Soooommmiiiiiinnn!!!” A loud voice echoes throughout the room. He hugs Soomin briefly, and addresses the rest of you. “Wassup bros?” The newcomer gives each of the surgeons a dap in greeting then turns to greet you three. 

“The whole gang's here!” He says, rubbing his chin, “Let me guess...Jeon Jungkook, _________, and Park Jimin, right?” 

Eyes wide in surprise, you nod slowly. “Soomin here has told me all about you!” Soomin is behind the man, drawing a hand across her throat. “My name’s Jung Hoseok, by the way. Nice to finally meet you all.” 

“He’s the next chairman of the Woocheon Medical City,” Seokjin whispers as he winks in your direction. Hoseok elbows him in the ribs. “No I’m not.” 

“Ah yes. Correction. Not yet.” Seokjin mumbles, massaging his sides. You, Jimin, and Jungkook look at each other with knowing gazes. So that’s the ‘someone’ Soomin knows. 

Woocheon ought to be...interesting.

© joontier 2021

[patt-writes-stuff]

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies​ !! and I really hope you like it!!! 

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.  

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand  

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

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Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up.  You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

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[gondowan]

Communal Property

Pairings: Din Djarin x f!Reader, allusions to Paz Viszla x f!Reader, Boba Fett x f!Reader, other Mandalorians x f!Reader, big gangbang vibes here lads. 

“I hear you Mandos like to share your women anyway.”

Tags/Warnings: NC-17. Explicit sexual content. Established relationship. Verbal humiliation.  Dom/sub. Choking. Lots of finnnngerrring (vaginal/anal). Canon-typical violence (Din stabs a rando). Soup, but make it sexy. Daddy kink (ehe). Suggestions of a threesome, gangbang, public use, bondage, breeding, double penetration (if I missed anything please let me know), its fluffy at the end :D

Word Count: 4,709

Notes: <:3c please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with anything listed above lol. Seriously though. 

---

It was getting late, and the only clientele left at the dingy cantina were either drunk and rowdy or on their way to out. Which was fine, it was rare for the two of you to have some time together and you relished every second you could get. Din had just bagged a large bounty for Karga, enough that he could be persuaded to take a short break. It had been far too long since the two of you could spend some time together without a bounty puck hanging over your head or fears of Imperials looking for the Child.

Besides, Sorgan was as quiet as it got, and with all the planet-hopping and close calls in the last few cycles, the two of you really hadn’t had any time to yourselves and you were getting a little...tense from the lack of release. 

It wasn’t that Din ignored your needs, but rather you were both so caught up with everything that there was barely any time to sleep, let alone indulge in a long scene. There just weren’t enough hours in the day to both take care of the Crest, the Child, and yourselves while on the run. You could tell he too was tense from the lack of physical connection; from the moment you stepped planetside, he was constantly touching you, either guiding you with a hand on the small of your back or  

Din was in a mood. 

“What will it be?” the barkeep had asked when you both walked in. 

Before you could open your mouth, Din replied “Some stew and cider for her please, nothing for me,” he said in a clipped tone, not bothering to look at you or even ask what you might want. 

As the barkeep walked away, he turned his helmeted gaze towards you. “Any objections sweet girl?”

You felt your face get hot. “No,” you murmured. 

He cocked his head to the side, waiting. He was in that kind of mood tonight. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the barkeep coming back to your table. 

“No...daddy,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze away from him right as the barkeep put down your drinks. 

“Let me know if you all need anything else!” she said cheerfully as she set your plate of food and drink in front of you, oblivious to what had just occurred. 

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Din said, not even bothering to look at the barkeep. She must’ve thought you were mute or the two of you had an argument or something, the air between the two of you felt so charged. You hadn’t spoken a word since you two stepped in, and this armor-clad Mandalorian was basically bossing you around. 

She walked away, and you reached for the soup. 

“No.” 

You blinked at him in confusion. 

“I’m going to feed it to you,”. 

If you weren’t embarrassed before, you were now. Although the two of you had conversations about taking your dynamic outside the bedroom, Din hadn’t tried anything outside the ship just yet. The two of you were constantly surrounded by others anyway (Cara, Mayfeld, Boba, etc),  so there wasn’t much of a chance to be naughty in public.

Except now, you suppose. You should’ve known. 

“Mando, we’re in public,” you hissed, looking around the cantina. It was crowded and loud, and you were in a corner booth, but there was still a nonzero chance that someone might glance over.

His vocoder crackled, “Just the first spoonful,” he said, dipping the spoon into the soup and raising it towards you. You knew better than to say no, not if you valued the ability to sit down comfortably tomorrow. If you were really uncomfortable, all you had to do was blurt out your safeword, and you knew he would stop. 

You licked your lips, “Just the one.” You prop your forearms on the table and lean towards him, parting your lips, fervently hoping that no one would look towards your table. Din carefully tips the soup into your mouth, watching intently as you swallow.  

“Good?”

You lick your lips, despite the (admittedly delicious) soup, your mouth feels dry, “Y-yeah,”. 

“Finish it and we can leave,” to do what it is we really want to do, is the unspoken statement hanging in the air. He pushes the bowl towards you; you hastily grab the spoon, not even tasting it anymore.  Din watches you eat, unmoving save for an impatient drum of his fingers on the table. 

You relax a little, and ramble at Din about this-that-and-the-other to fill in the silence as you move onto polishing off your cider. Din says little in return but traces circles at your thigh, gloved fingers leaving a burning trial in its wake. Right as you are about to finish, a drunken man saunters over. You can smell the stench of alcohol rolling off of him. So much for a quiet night. 

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing with a tin can like that?” the drunkard giggles, pointing at Din. “Come with me instead, I can show you a great time, and you can see my face!”.

You sigh, so much for a quiet night, “I’m not interested, thank you,” you say with a clipped smile, turning away, hoping to the maker that he’d leave. 

Unfortunately this idiot can’t read the room, “Awww, don’t be like that, I can-”.

“She’s not interested.” Din said, voice flat, gaze still directed at you, not even bothering to give the drunkard the luxury of his full attention.

The man scowls, throwing up his hands. “Whatever, she’s probably all used up. I hear you Mandos like to share your women anyway.” 

The air got deathly still. Before you can turn to stop him, Din’s vibroblade is sticking out of this man’s shoulder. He screams, sobering up instantly, as Din twists the blade. 

In a flash, the barkeep shows up, blaster in hand, “OUT! All three of you!”, she yells, “Sa’al, I told you if you were going to get in trouble for this shit one day. Don’t let me catch any of you back here again.”

You throw down a fat wad of credits at the table, face apologetic as Din pulls his knife out of Sa’al’s shoulder, returning it to his boot. Sa’al collapses and scurries away in pain, clutching his shoulder. Din calmly stands up, takes your hand in his and leads you towards the exit. You mouth apologies at the barkeep before stepping out into the cool night air. Sorry, my partner is...touchy tonight have a good night so sorry I’m so sorry. 

You shiver, not looking forward to the long walk back to the Crest. Surprisingly, Din turns you in the opposite direction, marching you towards the inn. 

“Don’t want to wait,” he says. “Besides, it’s getting cold, and I know you don’t like that,” he drapes his cloak over your shoulders, and despite the reaction he had at the bar, your heart feels warm, and you lean into him. 

---

The inn is quiet, and you were lucky to get a larger room at the end of the hall. A bath would be nice, the refresher aboard the Crest did its job, but five minute showers really didn’t leave any time for luxuriating. Maybe you could MacGyver some bubbles and really indulge with Din. 

Din however, has other ideas. He all but shoves you into the room, closing the door behind him and quickly doing his usual checks for cameras and recording bugs. Old habits die hard. Once he’s satisfied, he sits at the edge of the bed. He pats at his lap, gesturing for you to sit. This had become a bit of a ritual for the two of you, he would often decompress by holding you as you sat there, either in the cockpit or the sleeping quarters. You amble over, planting a kiss on his helmet, and sit down.

Din doesn’t say anything at first, just lays his head on your shoulder. You reach in between his armor to rub at the tense muscles on his back, and for a few moments, it’s just the two of you and the sound of his breathing out of the vocoder. 

“You didn’t have to go so hard on the poor man you know,” you murmur as you massage the back of his neck. Din doesn’t move, just continues to hold you on his lap, head on your shoulder as he scoffs. 

 “I’m getting soft. Before I met you, old me would’ve killed him,”  the voice underneath the helmet is deadly. He releases his hold on your waist and takes off his helmet, immediately peppering kisses along your mouth. You knew he wasn’t lying, he had done worse--for less. “No one talks to my girl like that,”. 

“It’s fine, you dealt with him. My honor remains intact, I swear.” you giggle as his lips reach a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. Except the idea was enticing. Maybe you could bring it up another time, when Din wasn’t fresh out of nearly killing someone for saying that. The idea of being sandwiched between two Mandalorians was...tempting. You squeeze your thighs together, willing the thought away as you card your fingers through his hair. For someone who routinely kept it covered, it was so, so soft, and one of your favorite parts about him. Din still kept his helmet on more often than not, so you relished every chance you could get. 

His mouth wanders to your collarbones, hand reaching into your shirt, fingers smoothing over your nipple. 

“Although Din--ah,” your breath hitched as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, “What was that with the soup?”

“You didn’t like it?” his voice is muffled as he sucks a bruise onto your shoulder. 

You loved it actually. 

“Need to make sure babygirl has enough energy for Daddy,”. He continues to play with your nipple as you fuss around his lap.“Although...you averted your eyes earlier sweet girl,”. 

You whimper, body tensing. Shit. That had one been one of the rules he had laid out for you at the very beginning. Eye contact whenever you were playing. Din loved it because it made you embarrassed to have to admit to your desires to his face and it put you in an almost automatic submissive mindset. 

“Are you ashamed of being my baby girl?” he murmured, catching your chin with his hand, tilting your face to meet his. You knew it was a trick question, you could never be ashamed of the relationship the two of you shared. It had grown from just business to more, and despite the near-constant danger, you never wanted to be away from him, and you knew Din felt the same. 

“Of course not,” you sigh. You could never be anything but happy to be his. 

“Then why did you look away from me?” he asked, keeping your chin in a gentle grip, looking at you fondly, a smile of wicked pleasure gracing his handsome features. His voice was calm, and he maintained an innocent demeanor even as his other hand drifted away from your breast onto your thigh, squeezing gently. 

“I was just caught off-guard, we were in public,”. You braced yourself for what you knew was coming-- punishment. 

The other hand that had been trailing along your thigh paused, prompting you to freeze. “Well, it looks like you need to be taught a lesson. Always be ready for me, kitten.” 

“I think five is good,” he releases your face, hands roaming to your bottom, groping as you let out a shuddering breath, “Remember to count them”. 

You burrow your face into his shoulder, holding on tight. Din keeps his gloves on, knowing that you have a special fondness for being spanked while he was wearing them. The leather just adds that extra touch. 

The first hit takes you by surprise, and you buck into him, feeling the sting of his hand. 

“O-one.”

The second and third hit right next to the first, causing you to moan into his neck. 

Din rubbed the growing warm spot on your asscheek, “You should be in a museum kitten, your body is a masterpiece,” he growled, “Almost makes me feel sorry to hurt you.”. He lifts his hand away and you close your eyes, bracing yourself.

“But not quite,”. The next hit has you whimpering.

“Four.” you manage between clenched teeth.

He murmurs, “Last one okay? You’re doing so well.” You steel yourself, knowing that this one will be the most painful. You loved it when he was cold and domineering, playing with your body, inflicting both pain and pleasure at his desire, extracting whatever he needed out of you. 

Din’s hand comes down, hard. You cry out, shifting forward with the force, but are caught by his chestplate. 

“Five!” you call out, relieved. “T-Thank you Daddy,”.  

Din kisses your cheek, phrases of adoration and love filling your ear. He moves you off his thigh, pushing you onto the bed in one swift motion. You land with a soft ‘oof’, getting up on the back of your forearms to look at him. 

Din hurriedly takes off the rest of his armor and looms over you on the bed, arousal rolling off his body in waves. His palm reaches down between your legs. “Babygirl...you’ve already made a mess.” Din pulls at the crotch of your panties, feeling the wetness that has seeped through. He yanks them off, making a big show out of sniffing them, all the while maintaining eye contact with you as you squirm under him.  

“Is this all for me sweet girl?”. You nod feverishly and Din groans, as he inhales deeply again, your ruined panties pressed right against his nose, “It’s too good--I should just keep your pussy under lock and key.”  

“Did the spanking get you all riled up?” he asks, the curve of his cock visible even through his pants, making your mouth water. 

“Or…” his voice drops precipitously, “Were you thinking about being passed around?” 

Damn, of course he’d know. Your eyes widen and you swallow, stomach twisting. 

Din grins as he continues to let his hands caress your hip, “Was that it? Is that what you want? Passed around and used up by a bunch of Mandalorians?”

You whine, biting your lip, refusing to give him the pleasure of confirmation.

A sharp slap across your nipple brings you back to reality. “Answer me.”

You nod, lips parting, unable to answer as Din pushes a finger into your mouth and across your tongue. You lap at his finger, pleased at the subtle shiver that goes through him. He adds a second finger, reaching deep into your mouth, making you gag as you garble out an affirmation. 

Din grins ferally. “You know I could call up Paz and Boba, let them take turns on you”. You shudder, the thought of sucking Boba’s cock while Paz worked your pussy was hot. You hadn’t done more than exchange a few conversations with the two of them, but you knew that Din would trust them with his life, they were his vod. Paz was the biggest one and you knew he wouldn’t take it easy on you. Boba, however, would be brutal, possibly even more so than Din.  

“Although I don’t know babygirl, I’m not sure I can share your pussy-- maybe I’ll keep my cock in your pussy and the others can take turns on your ass and mouth, keep you airtight and so full. Would you like that baby? Be stuffed full of cock?” Din hums as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth. The image he’s painting in your mind is disgusting and oh so good, you imagine yourself straddling Din as his cock fills your pussy, holding on for dear life while Paz eases himself into your other tight hole and you choke around Boba’s length, utterly debauched. 

Din pets your cheek, soft gesture contrasting sharply with the utter filth coming out of his mouth. His hand finally reaches down towards the apex of your thighs, knuckle grazing up and down your folds. “We better train your asshole then, don’t want Paz or Boba to hurt you,” your heart flutters, filthy images of you on your knees plugged up making your blood pound.  

“That’s Daddy’s job after all.” he says absentmindedly, eyes laser focused on your pussy as he briefly dips his finger even lower, just barely skimming across your other hole.    

“Look at you,” he says, admiring the way you shudder as he inserts his fingers into your pussy, you’re so turned on you can hear the squelch as he pushes in. “Knew you were a greedy slut since the first day I set eyes on you.”

You keen under his touch, mind flying high, pussy throbbing as you move your hips into his hand. “I’m your greedy slut Daddy,” 

“Yeah you are, sweet girl.” Din says fondly. You wonder how it is that you’re already this close even though he’s barely started to finger you.  

“Can I kiss you? Please?” you whimper, reaching for him. Din hums and puts a knee on the bed, leaning over, chest pressed against yours, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You pull him closer, needy for more of him as you wordlessly beg for more. He nips at your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him in, never minding the mess of saliva. 

 “Never thought you were that much of a whore,” he hisses against your neck, teething grazing along the line of your skin as you tilt your head back to allow him better access. His fingers continue to work their magic on your slick folds, and you’re pretty sure you’ve made a mess on the bed already, and dear maker, he hadn’t even made you cum yet. 

“Alternatively…”. Din stands up, mouth leaving yours and withdrawing his fingers as well. You whine at the loss of sensation. He nips at your breast before reaching down to pull his pants down. You swallow, chest heaving as you part your legs further for him. Din rubs the head of his cock on your clit, 

“Spread yourself,” he orders with a sharp smack to your inner thigh. You scramble, reaching down to give him better access. Din lets out a moan at the sight of your dripping pussy and your debauched dreamy expression, fresh bruises adorning your neck and chest, all his doing. He loved the way you folded under his touch as if you were made for him, always so sweet and anticipatory of his needs. A beautiful complement to his twisted desires. The thought of it made his heart swell. He was never going to let you go.  

Din makes an appreciative noise as you follow his command, lining himself up with your wet hole. You’re breathing so hard in anticipation that you feel light-headed, “Or...I could take you back to the Covert, let everyone else have a turn at you,”

Before you can fully register what he said, he pushes deep into you with one fluid motion of his hips. You squeeze down on him, grateful for the pressure and the way he fills you up every time like he was made for you.  

“We could get your implant taken out, make you take all of our loads in your pussy. All of our cum mixing together.” You moan, head dropping back, shuddering as he continues to thrust, bottoming out, not giving you any time to breathe let alone think. 

“Would you like that babygirl? Naked in the middle of the Covert for all to see?” you scramble to hold on to his arm, legs circling around his back. You squeeze around his length, getting close, but you don’t dare to cum without his permission. 

“D-daddy…” is about all you can muster out, eyes looking at his face but unseeing as he continues. You pull at the arm he’s been using to brace himself against the bed, gesturing at him to put his hand around your neck. He obliges with a small laugh, the span of his palm encompassing your neck, lightly resting his hand there and not squeezing, yet. 

“Close baby?” 

You tremble, “Y-yes Daddy fuck, please may I--” 

His hand returns to your clit and he presses down, taunting you, “You’re close already? If you cum, you acknowledge that you’re a filthy slut who needs Daddy to keep them in check. Is that what you are? A whore for Daddy?”. The hand on your throat squeezes just right and you can’t hold on any longer.  

“Always Daddy f-fuck.” you cry out as you curse, feeling your release overtake you as Din fucks you through your orgasm. 

“What do you say,” he snarls, ignoring your attempts to scramble away from the overstimulation of his cock and fingers. 

You blink and take a deep breath, “Thank you for letting me cum Daddy.” You’re past the point of embarrassment at this point, he has you wrapped around his finger, all mental filters long gone. 

You can see Din’s jaw clench before he pulls out quickly and you whimper at the loss of sensation. He flips you over and pulls your hips up. He huffs out as he pushes himself back in, chasing his own pleasure this time, nailing you to the bed and all you can do is continue to take it.  Your mind swims as you let out a sob; you’re so deep in a trance that you barely register his finger at the edge of your asshole again. He pushes in slowly, first knuckle breaching the tight ring of muscles as you tense up around his thick finger. 

“I knew you would love being the Covert slut; you always need so much to be satisfied,” he sneers, voice dropping even lower as he continues to mock you as his thick cock continues to work your hole and his finger fully breaches your asshole. “Maybe we won’t stop until we’re sure you get pregnant huh? You won’t ever know who the father will be since you won’t ever see their faces.”

 You’re nonverbal at this point, your litany of ‘yes Daddy’ and ‘more please’ muffled by the pillow.

“I guess we’ll just have to hope it looks like me huh?”. You groan, too overcome to do anything but moan.  

“Gonna give us warriors babygirl?”. Din snaps his hips particularly hard, you’ll be feeling the smack of his thighs against yours in the morning. 

You can feel yourself getting closer, the combination of the obscene image he had planted in your mind coupled with the press of his cock at your back and the fullness of his finger in your asshole was getting to be too much. You grip the sheets in a vice grip, mind falling into the web Din painted, of you on your knees, collar tied to a post, all your holes dripping with cum while the other Mandalorians all take a turn at you. So filthy, and you love it. You know nothing would please Din more than your complete and utter submission, and if that involves the entire covert or Paz and Boba, so be it. 

Din’s hand comes back up to your throat, and squeezes, playing with your breath right as his other hand inserts a second finger inside your asshole. You clutch at the hand wrapped around your neck, feeling your head swim, closing your eyes as you bounce up and down on his cock.   

He growls, biting into the shell of your ear, “Aww baby are you drooling?” he smears your spit across your cheek with his thumb. “Look at you, you’ve only cum once, and all of this is already making you cockdumb. Might have to call Paz and Boba in after all.”

You could only mewl in affirmation, mind floating, body only anchored by the points of contact made by Din’s hand on your throat, his cock in your pussy, and his fingers in your ass. You feel so good being used like this.  

“I love it when you’re like this babygirl, so helpless for Daddy,” Din growls in your ear. His eyes are hooded as he chases his own orgasm, the rhythm of his hips becoming more erratic. 

“I-I--” your tears break free, running down your cheeks as you struggle to form coherent words. 

Din is unaffected, unrelenting in his thrusts against your walls. “Tears aren’t your safeword babygirl. You can do better than that.”

You manage a moan, barely registering his words, cries reverberating around the room as he knocks the breath out of your lungs with each thrust. “Tell Daddy you love this.” he hisses. 

“I-I fuck, oh, oh, iloveitdaddypleaseplease,” you struggle to find enough breath to answer him, mouth dry from all your panting, Din’s hand unrelenting across your throat. 

“I know you do baby. Is it getting hard to breathe? It’s okay, Daddy’s got you,” his voice full of pride as he rails you, splitting you open, filling the room with nothing but the sound of his cock moving in and out, his hips slapping against your ass. “So good for Daddy fuck-- I’m gonna-- this pussy is too good--such a good girl for me.”

His words fill you with warmth, and you squeeze your pussy against him right as he pulls out. Din moans, his hand letting go of your throat, looking for more leverage as he gets closer to his own completion. “Make a mess all over me babygirl, it’s o-okay I got you,”. You wail and sob as he pushes you over the edge again. All you can hear is your garbled ‘thank you Daddy thank you’ as you thank him devotedly over and over again.  All the tension drains out of you, leaving you boneless on the bed, only held up by the fingers still in your ass and his cock. 

“S-shit. You made a mess all over me f-fuck, oh fuck.” Din groans as he finishes inside you, filling you with warm cum. He pulls his fingers out and collapses on top of you. Din places his head against yours, peppering kisses all over you as he pulls out, his cum oozing out of you. It’s quiet as you both catch your breath. 

You open your eyes blearily, “Fuck.” is about all you can manage before giggling, the endorphins making you feel so good. You can feel Din smile as he lifts himself up, pushing you back on your back. He looks ethereal, hair sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down his body as he gazes at you fondly. You reach up and caress his face and he leans into your touch. 

“How do you feel?” he murmurs, warm brown eyes on yours, laying a kiss on the back of your hand; ever the gentleman when he wasn’t busy degrading you at your request. 

You stretch languidly, a little sore, but no more than usual. “I feel great actually. And you?”

Din smiles softly as he caresses your face, “Never better,”. You love all these aspects of him, the bounty hunter, the Mandalorian, your lover. Nothing made you happier than getting to share these moments with him. The two of you lay there for what feels like eternity, happy, sated, no concerns, just kissing each other softly, coming down together. You feel your eyelids close.

His voice brings you back from the edge of sleep. “Sweet girl...we need to clean up,”.

You blink at him blearily, “Ah right...I made a mess,”.

“We made a mess,” he chuckles, pulling you up into his arms (how did he still have all that energy?) before depositing you in the tub and turning on the warm water. Right as the water covers your shoulders, he gets up. 

“Where are you going? The water is niiiiice.” you say as you make a big show of sinking into the bath. “Although not as nice as your ass.”

He smirks, “I need to send a message to Paz and Boba. Got exciting news for them,” he says as he turns towards his discarded armor. 

Your eyes widen. Wait what? 

--- 

I regret nothing lmfao. This is 100% me procrastinating from the fact that I have six months to finish writing my dissertation nbd. The line “you should be in museums” and “pussy under lock and key” is from Megan thee Stallion’s Sex Talk and Dance respectively. As always, comments/reblogs/keysmashes are always appreciated and give me much serotonin :)

Might do a part two with actual Boba and Paz but there are only so many euphemisms for cock that I know of ahaha. 

[woodrokiro]

Bar Service (fic)

Fandom: Bleach

Characters/Pairing: IchiRuki

Summary: Bartenders--especially bartenders around the corner from her apartment--are strictly off limits. Restaurant AU. Written for @ichirukimonth . TW warning for mentioned child abuse. 

She doesn’t think much of the restaurant a few blocks away from her new apartment.

She always passes it to and from her work commute, of course. Maybe from time to time she glanced over, musing how it looks cute enough--a great place to take a date or some friends....

Before Rukia remembers: 1. She doesn’t have the time or capacity to date, and 2. She has no friends here yet… And probably won’t for a while, considering her lifelong difficulty making them in the first place. 

It’s fine by her, honestly. She likes throwing everything she has into her job, loves doing her best to earn a smile or laugh from her patients. That’s enough social interaction for her, and at the end of the day she can go home, pour a glass of wine, switch the television on to some silly drama and order takeout without mourning the “loss” of a Friday night.

So for the first few months that she’s living in Karakura: no. She doesn’t even think about stepping foot in Amore e Morte. 

Until she gets a particularly bad case at work. 

The fact that it was a foster child case alone makes her heart hurt--but of course, there’s always more with these sort of situations. 

A little girl named Hina, aged eight but looking so much smaller waiting there in her office. The social worker sitting with her--a woman named Rangiku, who Rukia knows a little and actually quite likes--squeezes Hina’s tiny hand before pulling Rukia to the side, quietly explaining the situation. 

Physical abuse from her former home where she had been for a year. Her teacher kept noticing bruises in odd places and finally called CPS, who did nothing for two months before the behavior escalated and Hina ended up in the ER.

Her new foster mom is a real nice lady, says she hasn’t been acting out or anything but… Rangiku shrugs, flashing a reassuring smile when the little girl looks their way. You know. 

She knows. 

So Rukia does what she does best: she goes to the little girl, introduces herself by her first name, and focuses on her work until she can sob angrily in her car at lunch break. 

And when her workday is done, when her emotions are fried and she’d really like a drink or three anywhere but her lonely apartment--she sees the restaurant’s sign, glowing warmly in the dusk light. 

Amore e Morte. Love and death. A weird name for a restaurant, she thinks, and wonders if the owners either don’t know Italian and thought the name was cool or are just uppity snobs. 

If you’d stop being so cynical you might go out and actually enjoy life. She can practically hear Renji’s voice scoffing in her ear now.

She parks her car at home before walking back over to the restaurant.

--

The outside of the restaurant is nice enough, but the inside is… Well. Lovely.

Brick walls painted white make the entire place look minimalist yet cozy. A couple of trendy paintings hanging sparsely through the restaurant makes the environment chic, but not overbearing. A few hanging lanterns bring just enough light to let everyone see where they’re going, but otherwise candles are utilized at each of the tables for a romantic touch.

Rukia sees by the sheer number of couples there that it is indeed a good place to bring a date.

And by the looks of one dish smelling deliciously of chicken and bell peppers that passes her by in a waiter’s hand, the food isn’t too bad either. Rukia’s mouth waters. 

“A table for one, miss?” 

Rukia startles from her musings, feeling rather silly as the bright and cheery hostess smiles patiently back. 

“Oh! No, I don’t think that’s necessary. I wouldn’t want to take up one of your tables. Do you have bar seating?”

“Of course! Right this way.” 

The hostess leads her into an adjacent room that sits tucked away from the main dining room. There’s still a couple of tables in this room, and two of the eight bar stools are occupied but it’s so much quieter here, the noise of the dining room a mere buzz. She breathes a small sigh of relief as she takes the stool at the far end. She wanted to be out and about, just… Not that out and about.

“Our bartender Kurosaki-kun will be taking care of you. I believe he’s just in the back talking to Chef, he should be right back.”

Rukia thanks her, taking a glance at the menu. 

She quickly finds out Chef Yasutora Sado’s menu inspiration is Mexican-Japanese fusion cuisine, which is… Interesting, considering the restaurant’s name is Italian. In any case, she’s fascinated. Rukia by no account considers herself a foodie, but the thought of blending traditional Japanese dishes with Mexican spices and turning them into something like sukiyaki tacos makes her stomach growl. 

“Can I get you something other than water to drink?”

Her gaze flickers from the menu to the well-toned arm extended out toward her, pouring a glass of water. Her eyes move up the arm to the man it’s attached to. 

A handsome guy, she’ll admit: if it wasn’t for the obviously bleached orange hair, the sword tattoo on his forearm peeking out from under his rolled sleeve, and the fact that he looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.

If she had to pick him out from a crowd, there’s no doubt she’d know him as a bartender. What a walking cliche. 

“Yes, I’ll take--” She didn’t even take a glance at the drink menu. She looks down quickly. “Sorry. Can I get a matcha mojito?” 

He nods, his hands suddenly flying through liquors and shakers and mixes to make her drink. “You ready for food, too?” 

“Any recommendations?” 

“Everything.”

She snorts. She’d be irritated by the subpar service if it wasn’t for his small smirk at her response. 

“Seriously, everything’s good here. If you get something you don’t like, drinks are on me.”

“Risky.” Rukia lifted an eyebrow. “You place that bet with every customer?”

“Every single one.” 

She highly doubts that, but she appreciates the trust in his workplace nonetheless. She orders a couple of small plates, and he tends to his other drink orders while she sips her own. 

The food, when it comes out, is… Infuriatingly good. Infuriating because she would have loved to have scored a couple free drinks off the arrogant punk bartender, but she’ll have to swallow her pride because the sukiyaki taco is absolute divinity. She sips her second drink, already accepting that she’s gonna have to admit to him she’ll be paying full price for everything she ordered.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like she’ll have a chance to gloat. From what she hears next door, dinner service has picked up and with that: drink orders. He’s doing as well as he can--hands expertly flying through the liquors, garnishing the cocktails with an expert flourish before passing them on to a server--but she can tell he’s feeling the stress, particularly when he reads his second to last ticket in the rush.

“Fuck,” she hears as he rolls his eyes, stalking over to the wine cabinet. A server comes by, concerned. 

“You need anything, Ichigo?”

He waves a hand, not turning to look at his coworker. “No, no I’m fine. Just annoying when I don't open a bottle before rush, that’s all.”

The server scuttles off to tend to her tables while Rukia watches him bang a (very expensive looking) wine bottle on the counter, clumsily ripping into the foil with an opener. At one point he cuts his thumb, and he half-hazardly wraps a paper napkin around it while he tries helplessly to pull the cork up. The wine opener doesn’t grip the bottle steadily a couple of times, she waits on baited breath to see if he’ll break the bottle. After a few dangerous-looking test runs, he manages to hoist the cork up, cursing out a “fucking finally” at the sound of the cork popping.

The whole thing must have taken ten minutes.

Maybe it’s the matcha mojitos finally hitting her, but she can’t help it. She laughs. 

He shoots her a wild look and she covers her chuckles with the back of her hand. 

“Sorry, sorry! I’m not--it’s not funny. I just… That was the most atrocious opening of a wine bottle I’ve ever seen.”

Ichigo stares for a moment before scoffing, turning back to his (finally opened) bottle and pours the wine into a glass. “Yeah, well… I don’t do wine service here, lady.”

“Excuse me? That’s ridiculous. You’re a bartender.”

“Exactly. Bartender. I do cocktails, not fancy wine stuff.”

“Let me guess, you consider yourself a mixologist.”

“Don’t ever call me that. Ever.” He’s shaking his head as he moves on to his next order, but oddly enough Rukia feels like she knows he’s suddenly having a good time. “Like I said, I don’t do wine etiquette and all that. That’s for the servers.”

“I’m just… It’s hard to believe you’ve made it this far in a nicer restaurant’s bar without knowing how to open wine.”

“Not that far. I’ve been here for like, six months.” He shrugs at her inquisitive stare. “Old buddies with the chef. I bar backed in college where he was a line cook, so… And if he ever got sick of me, my sister is his sous chef. Then again, she’s more likely to fire me than he is, the brat.”

“Especially with you not knowing how to open a fine vintage.”

“Get over it. When it’s not busy I get one of the servers to help me.” He looks down, having seemingly forgotten about his paper toweled thumb. “Shit. Hang on, I gotta get a bandaid from the back--”

“I have some, if you want.” Rukia starts digging through her purse. “If there’s not some restaurant code for the kind of bandage you’re supposed to use, of course.”

“If it looks neater than a shoddy paper towel job, ‘should be fine. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Here.” 

He stares at her outstretched hand. She stares back, getting more irritated as she waits. 

“What?”

“... It’s a Chappy bandaid.”

“So?”

“So why are you a grown ass woman carrying around Chappy bandaids?” 

“They’re for my patients, for kids.” She’s telling the truth, technically. To say she also quite enjoys Chappy as a character does not need to be mentioned. “Do you want it or not? Swallow your manly pride or go looking for an ugly beige bandage while your tickets pile up again. Tick tock.”

“Fine! All right, already.” He takes the bandaid and starts unpeeling the paper adhesive. “You a pediatrician or something?” 

“Child psychologist.” Suddenly Rukia remembers Hina’s sweet face and feels terrible for not thinking about her once this entire dinner. 

“Jesus.” Ichigo’s shaking his head, pressing Chappy to his cut.

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fact that it’s such a weird response to her revealing her profession, but Rukia can’t help it. She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.

If he’s uncomfortable with her sudden hostility, he doesn’t show it. He shrugs. “It’s just… I can imagine it’s a hard job. Sometimes, anyway.” 

Oh. 

“Oh,” she exhales. “I’m sorry, I--yes. It can be, yes.I just… That sort of response I’ve only ever gotten from people that don’t believe in the importance of mental health. ‘Shrink talk’ and what have you.”

“Nah, I believe it.” He’s finished his job of covering his wound and moved on to his next drink order. 

She’s abashedly stirring the ice in her glass when she barely hears him say: “I had to go to a children’s therapist once, as a kid. Helped me a lot.”

She raises her head to look at him. He hasn’t changed his facial expression, nor is there any change to his body language as he continues to do his job--but as a psychologist, Rukia can’t help but wonder whether she’s the first person he’s ever told this to. 

“Me too. When I was a child, I… A therapist had helped me, too.” She raises her glass and clears her throat. “To recognizing childhood trauma, I suppose.”

He lets out a short laugh at the sudden dark joke, a sound so quick and so… So nice she can’t stop the fleeting thought that it’s a sound she’d like to hear more of. She shoves it away. 

Bartenders are absolutely off limits. 

He raises the glass that he’s mixing a cocktail in. “Yeah. Cheers.”

--

Later when she finally picks up the check, she pauses.

“Excuse me.” She waves Ichigo down, maybe just a tad tipsy. “You got the check wrong.”

He frowns, taking the bill from her and scanning it. “What are you…”

“You forgot to put a drink on there. My third one.”

It clicks and he rolls his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“What? I’m being honest.”

“It’s on me.” He slides the receipt back to her. 

“But I didn’t dislike any of the dishes!”

“Take some advice, will you Doc? If the restaurant staff didn’t put something on your bill and you still got it, chances are: we wanted to give it to you.” They lock eyes for an intense moment before he clears his throat, looks down to wipe his (suspiciously clean) bar. “‘To childhood trauma,’ and all that. Now stop yapping so loud about it. You want everyone in the restaurant to hear about me giving out free stuff?”

She shuts her mouth at that, but one small detail about what he said is bothering her.

“It’s not ‘Doc,’ so you know. I have a name. It’s Rukia. Rukia Kuchiki.”

“Okay. Whatever, Rukia.” He turns around and waves his hand. “And I’m Ichigo. Just pay your damn bill and come back soon or whatever.”

And with that: she guesses she has a new spot.

[houseof-harry]

Missed You Too | G.D.

Part 3 of Hate You Too!!

A/N - hello!!!!! part 3 of my hyt series!!! v proud of this part tbh, and dropping it at 2:30 am bc I can’t keep it to myself any longer. lots of love as always pretty pls lmk what you think!!! (read the last part here) (amazing gif by @vintagedolan​ as per usual nothing but the best by the best)

Word Count - 8.8k

Warnings - the nasty as per usual, mentions of not a great family life

“Why have you been trying more vegan stuff?” Kacey asks as you walk down the refrigerated aisle of the grocery store. You’d just put egg replacer in your cart after examining it for five minutes.

You shrug, looking at the various food options as you pass by them. “I don’t know, I’ve just been intrigued by it lately I guess.”

“Is the boy who gives you the glow vegan?” You roll your eyes, because this has been Kacey’s way of not so subtly poking around in your life to figure out who made you cry. She’s only seen one person make you cry: your dad. So the fact that a ‘random kid’ has seemed to do it for you, she’s pushing hard.

Because it wasn’t just that night that got to you, it’s been almost every day since. For almost a week straight, you’ve been moping around and going through the motions of life because the thought of Grayson truly hating you was making you really fucking sad. And that’s terrifying.

You had been pretty good about hiding it, you thought, until Kacey knocked asking why you were crying when you didn’t know she’d gotten home from Ethan’s one day. And now she needed to know what caused you your pain.

So you told her it was a random kid you’d been talking to. She didn’t believe you for a second (rightfully so, it was a terrible lie) and she wouldn’t leave it alone. You loved her and her passion, but sometimes you wish she’d let it go.

“I don’t know if he’s vegan or not. Everyone’s cutting out animal products more and more these days and I thought it’d be cool to try it myself. Is that such a problem?” You snap at her and she just huffs and pipes down for the time being.

You guys make it to the produce section after venturing through the various aisles in complete silence. You’re inspecting peppers when she speaks up again.

“You can’t hide him from me forever, you know.”

“You really think I can’t?”

“Y/N, come on.” She nudges you, making you meet her eyes and you see the genuine concern in them.

You let out a breath, picking your peppers and putting them in the cart. “I don’t even know what’s going on in my head with all the shit that’s happened, how am I supposed to tell you?”

She frowns wrapping her arm around you in a bit of an awkward side hug, the cart sandwiching you against the various vegetables.

“Maybe talking it out with me will help? When did it start? When did you meet him?”

You purse your lips, not sure how much you’re willing to reveal to her. Because if we’re being honest, Ethan is going to hear about this. And if they put two and two together, Grayson will soon know you’re having all these feelings over him and that’s the last thing you could want.

“I’m not supposed to like him, that was never what we were to each other. I don’t like him, I don’t think. Or I didn’t. But when I pissed him off and he left? I don’t know why, but it just-” You shrug, sighing and grabbing the cart to keep walking around as your emotions quickly bubbled to the surface after being hidden deep within you for so long.

“Isn’t that what they always say, though? Love comes when you’re not looking for it.”

“Oh jesus Kacey,” you laugh, pausing to grab some onions. “I’m not in love.”

“Hey,” she holds her hands up in defense as she watches you bag the onions. “All I’m saying is I’ve never seen you so into someone before. Even when you talk about your exes you have less emotion than with this guy.”

You toss the onions in the cart before continuing to push it along. “But I shouldn’t be into him. I wasn’t into him. I can’t tell if I’m blocking my feelings down and that’s why I’m confused or-”

“That’s definitely the problem,” she laughs as she picks out the fruits she wants for the week.

You huff in annoyance because you know she’s right, but you don’t want to let that be true. “Maybe I just really like his dick.”

The old lady next you scowls before shaking her head and walking away. You and Kacey giggle with each other as your cheeks blush a bit.

“I don’t think any dick is that powerful. Not when vibrators exist - fuck no. You’ve got the feelings glow.”

“Stop, Kacey,” you groan, halting your movements to look at her. She raises her brow at you and crosses her arms. “I don’t have the feelings glow. You get that shit for someone you’re gonna love. I could never love this guy, I-” you shake your head and blink a few times to quell any frustrated tears that have popped up. “I can’t love him. He was a good fuck. Is a good fuck. In fact-”

Before Kacey can react, you’re phone from your sweatshirt and typing away.

“Y/N what are you doing?”

“Proving that’s all he is.” You lock your phone with a satisfied grin.

“What the fuck did you just do?”

“Set up a dick appointment. A no strings attached, feelings-less dick appointment.”

“With the guy?” At this point you’re speedwalking the cart to the check out with Kacey trailing behind while she tries to process your rather reckless actions.

“With the guy,” you confirm.

“You’re gonna regret this,” she warns.

You sigh, locking your phone again after seeing his response.

“Maybe.”

***

“You’re in a shlump dude.”

Grayson was cuddled deep into their couch, blankets all around him and an almost completely empty pint of vegan ice cream he had picked up the night before.

Ethan had just come in from a midafternoon run, his sweaty and bare chest heaving as he stood in front of his brother with his hands on his hips. They were polar opposites right now, and Grayson hadn’t even realized. Not until Ethan’s comment makes him look down at himself and back up.

He merely sighs, leaning forward to put the ice cream on the coffee table while Ethan watches.

“Is it the new soulmate of the month?”

Grayson looks down at his phone, no new notifications on his blank lock screen. He doesn’t realize that he’s zoned out until Ethan’s snapping in his face with a questioning look.

Grayson shakes his head, groaning and rubbing his hand over his face.

“Bro, I don’t know.” Ethan sits next to him, leaning back as he drinks some water. “She’s not-” he huffs, doing his best to collect his thoughts because he truly has no idea how to explain you or his situation to Ethan without revealing that it’s you. Because as much as he loved his brother, he knew Kacey knew about everything in Ethan’s life. And Ethan’s life is Grayson’s life, and vise versa. So it would only be a matter of time before Kacey knew and then you’d know and he had no idea how you’d react to him having any type of positive feelings towards you.

“Who is she?”

“You don’t know her,” Grayson is quick to respond, almost too quick, but luckily Ethan doesn’t push it.

“What’s so special about her that she has you eating ice cream on a Friday?”

Grayson looks at the sweet dessert resting on the table with a disgusted look, only realizing now that he feels bloated and definitely indulged a bit too much.

“I don’t know, dude. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever talked to or dated which is why I’m fucking confused. I shouldn’t like her.”

Ethan laughs, shaking his head. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he picks up the ice cream and takes a spoonful into his mouth himself. “There’s a reason why you’re not with anyone you’ve talked to or dated in the past. And there’s a reason why someone so different from those girls is making you feel a lot more. Grow the fuck up and actually ask her out so you can stop being so damn mopey.”

Grayson looks at his brother, processing his words slowly as Ethan continues to finish off the ice cream. He knows Ethan is right. But you’re not into that, and definitely not into him like that.

“She would never date me,” Grayson huffs as he leans further back into the couch.

“You won’t know until you ask.”

Grayson can feel the nerves bubbling in his stomach at the idea of asking you to be anything more than friends. Were you even friends? Just someone you fucked occasionally but wouldn’t even let him kiss you slowly?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by his phone vibrating, and he’s surprised to see your name attached to a new text.

sorry about last time. are you free tonight?

He reads the text over and over, trying to take it all in.

He’s never heard you apologize to him. Literally never. Not that you’ve done anything terrible, but you guys just didn’t do that unless there was underlying sarcasm beneath the words.

And the fact you wanted to see him again? Try again? Maybe Ethan was right. Or, you were horny as shit. But he’d take what he could get.

“Is it her?”

Grayson snaps his head up at Ethan, his cheeks a bit more flushes than before due to the fact he was now thinking about what you wanted to do tonight.

He nods, looking back down at his phone. “Yeah, she wants to hang out tonight.”

“Kacey’s coming over for the night and we already call the pool, so I don’t know what-”

“I’ll go to hers.”

“Okay.” Ethan stands with the empty ice cream pint in his hand. “Don’t forget to ask her out, though. Even if it’s a double date with me and K, to make it more comfortable for you guys.”

Grayson chuckles to himself because, realistically, you guys going on a double date together would probably be a lot of fun. If you and Grayson didn’t fight.

“I’d rather just be a fuck to her than nothing.”

Ethan sighs, shaking his head. “Whatever, dude. That isn’t good for you, but I know you’re not gonna listen to me.” And with that, he’s walking to the kitchen.

Grayson closes his eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths because Ethan was right again, but you’re just so...addicting. As much as he thinks you’d be amazing together if you were both willing to put your bruised egos aside, he can’t get the taste of your lips, your skin, your pussy out of his mind. Or the way you looked totally fucked out for him the first time you let him touch you. Or how breathless you were in the pool. He felt like he needed that, and if it meant some hurt feelings on his end, he’d take any fix he could get.

yeah, i’ll come by after Kacey gets here

***

Grayson was rather proud of the way he so easily slipped past Ethan and Kacey, grateful for his brother’s willingness to be vague so that he could get out without any questions. Because if there’s one person besides Ethan who will lecture Grayson, it would be Kacey. And she would definitely not approve of what was about to happen.

The drive felt longer this time. He had his hype playlist going, the one he listened to when he ran, trying to get some adrenaline pumping because confidence usually followed. And he really needed confidence right now.

You were going through the same routine as last time. Preparing your space for him, and more importantly preparing your mind. Trying not to psych yourself out while also trying to guess if he’d want it all gentle like last time, or if he’d be even more pissed because of what happened.

When you hear a knock at your front door you jump a bit, the moment of anticipation finally here. You wipe your sweaty palms on your shorts, walking to the door and taking a breath before swinging it open.

You both look at each other for a moment, and you can tell something has changed since the last time you saw him. He looked a bit paler, more tired, his hair not styled like normal. His posture was relaxed, his back slouched and hands in his pockets as he looked straight at you. Because sure, those were all little tells as to how the past week has treated him, but when you finally meet his gaze it feels like his eyes tell the whole story. You weren’t sure why or how, but you just knew he’d been through it the past week.

That made you feel a bit relieved, that you weren’t the only confused one. That is, if his rough week was in any relation to you. Or it could have been something with Ethan, or the company, or YouTube, or another girl. Maybe you weren’t the only one texting him about fucking around, and you weren’t the only one-

“Am I gonna get let in or did you invite me here to stand outside?”

You bite your lip, coming back to reality quickly and stepping aside so he can walk past you. You can smell his stupid signiture scent, the one you’d fake sneeze at just to tease him whenever he put on too much. The thought makes you smile, because it would always make him so annoyed. His face would scrunch, he’d toss his hands up like you’d just insulted his mother, and he’d throw at least a ten minute shit fit. It always worked without a doubt.

“Dude, are you good?” You’re pulled out of your trance to see him walking backwards towards your bedroom, an eyebrow raised as you still stand holding the door open. “Thought I was gonna get an apology or something, not just the fucking draft from the hallway.” The cockiness in his voice feels familiar, and almost makes you warm inside. But your inner competitiveness takes over first.

“Oh, you expected more than a ‘I’m sorry’? What makes you think you deserve that?” You chuckle, closing the door and locking it before walking to him.

He shrugs a cocky smirk on his face. “I usually accept apologies in acts of service. Never said I accepted yours yet.”

You put your hands on his stomach, pushing him through the doorway and closer to your bed. “Something tells me you will,” you whisper, your mouth right next to his ear as you lean in. You have a tight grip on his shirt where your hands were resting, his knees at the back of the bed.

He swallows thickly at your response, his own hands coming to grip your hips and bring you flush against him.

“Yeah? Gonna prove you’re really sorry, Y/N?”

You’re not sure if it’s the hushed tone or the fact he said your name that makes you freeze, your need to be in charge leaving you as you move your head to look up at him. He’d only ever said your name when he was pissed at you, when he was being sarcastic. Hearing it fall from his lips now, made a shiver run down your spine.

Grayson can clearly see how much he just affected you, and he plops down onto your bed victoriously as he watches you try to get your shit together. His arms are behind him so he can recline back to continue to watch you, his legs spread a bit and his dick clearly outlined in his sweats. You’re 90% sure he’s not wearing anything underneath, and the thought makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He expects you to climb into his lap, so when you’re falling to your knees between his legs, his confidence wavers for a moment. “Oh shit,” he mumbles under his breath, and you’re sure he didn’t intend for you to hear it.

You lick your lips, sliding your hands slowly up his thighs as you watch him try and collect himself. He can’t decide if watching your hands or your face is better, his gaze constantly switching back and forth.

You, however, hold your eyes steady on his cock that is twitching underneath the confines of his sweats. You’re not sure how long you’re gonna be able to tease him, your mouth literally watering at the thought of finally tasting him, making him feel good that way. Letting him blow his load down your throat.

Your hands reach the hem of his sweats, and you bring one of your thumbs to rub over his cock. You hear him suck a breath in, your eyes finally lifting to meet his. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, his face barely lit up from the few candles in your room.  His nostrils are flaring with every breath he lets out, the anticipation clear in the way his eyes are now jumping around your own face as he waits for your next move.

You dig your fingers into the hem of his sweats, pulling them down as he lifts his hips to make it easier for you, Once they’re around his ankles, you let your eyes fall to his hard cock against his lower stomach. You take in every vein you can see, trailing all the way up to his red tip. You could tell it was borderline painful with the way his thighs clenched under your hands. When you noticed the precum beginning to drip from his tip you can’t resist anymore, leaning in to lick it all up.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

There it is again. Your name so gracefully falling from his lips. You feel a wave of nervous energy flow through you, but not before the words go straight to your pussy. You’ve suddenly made it your mission to make him say your name as many times as possible tonight.

You grab him at his base, swirling your tongue around his tip and making sure to pay extra attention to his slit, noting his little twitch every time your tongue runs over the most sensitive part of him. He brings one of his hands to the side of your head, gripping the ponytail you’d already had in your hair in preparation.

You look up at him as you continue to explore what makes him pull tight against your scalp, his cocky smirk back again as he takes in his new view.

“Loving the taste of my cock?”

You let go of him for a moment, and you feel him tug on your hair a bit harder in protest, but before he can say anything else you’re leaning down farther to drag your tongue from his base all the way back up, swirling your tongue around once like earlier before sitting back on your heels. You lick your lips slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s alright.”

He rolls his eyes, putting a bit of pressure on the back of your head to try and bring you closer to him again.

You chuckle, leaning forward so that when you speak again he feels your hot breath on the sensitive skin. “Why? Love the way my mouth feels?”

“I wouldn’t know because you haven’t actually fucking put it-”

Before he can even finish his sentence your mouth is surrounding him, slowly sink down until he’s hitting the back of your throat. You stay there a moment, listening to his quicker breathing and watching his stomach clench as you hollow your cheeks and leisurely drag your head up, letting your tongue trace the vein that runs on the underside of his cock.

You lift your mouth from him, a small trail of saliva still connecting your lower lip to his tip.

“How about now?”

He looks down at you for a second, total silence ringing through your room. If you weren’t so turned on and confused about your feelings, you’d be more sure about the blatant admiration and attraction you see in his gaze right now.

He moves his hand from your head to your face, his thumb wiping your bottom lip to clean it before grabbing your cheeks and forcing you to continue looking at him. “You’re not good for me.”

Before you can even question what he means, he’s forcing you to stand up. He brings your face to his, and your hands fly around for a moment as you try to keep your balance with his quick and forceful motions before they finally land on his shoulders, his lips hot and heavy on yours. He didn’t seem to mind the fact he could taste himself on your tongue, too eager to feel your mouth on his.

The way he is able to get you to move at just the feeling of his hands on your body is almost embarrassing, but when his hands come to your hips to move you so that you’re now sitting next to where he was as he awkwardly shuffles to get between your legs you’re not even surprised with how smooth he made it all seem. It almost felt like you guys worked well together.

He doesn’t even bother to step out of his sweats, only throwing his shirt over his head when he feels your hands tugging on it. His hand pushes at your shoulder so that you’re laying back, legs still hanging over the edge of the bed. He makes quick work of your shorts and underwear, letting you kick them off as he brings a large hand to pull your tank top down just enough so that your tits are out. You’re sure you heard some of the seams rip, but at this point you couldn’t care less.

He reaches below your knees, pulling your legs up forcefully so that they’re bent, your heels now resting on the edge of the bed and your pussy spread wide for him.

“Condom, Gray.” You nudge him with your knee to pull him out of the slight daze he’d been in since he last spoke, and his eyes clear up after he blinks and comes back to reality for a moment.

“Oh - right. Where…” He trails off, looking around the room to see if you had any out and available for him.

You lean up on your elbow, pointing to your nightstand. “Back right of the drawer.”

He leans over, not moving from his spot between your legs. You watch him rummage through the drawer and think about how natural it feels to have him there, going through your shit.

He’s quick to pull out a condom, not even closing the drawer before tearing it open with his teeth and rolling it on himself.

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can he pushes your thighs back enough for your feet to rise off the bed, his hands sliding up the backs of your legs to slowly extend them upwards. By the time his touch reaches your midcalf, you can feel the ridges of his stomach on the back of your thighs, your calves resting on his pecs. One of his hands goes back down your legs to tightly grip your thigh, the other going to his cock to line his dick up with your entrance.

His eyes leave your center for a moment, going back to your face. “Good?”

You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. Right as you feel his tip against you, about to push in you remember what you were going to say before. “Wait!” He looks up in alarm, raising his eyebrow at you in question, slight concern on his face.

“Is my apology accepted?”

His face relaxes as he chuckles lightly, leaning down a bit to hover over your body. You feel his dick back at your entrance, and you finally feel the way he slowly begins to fill you. Your body relaxes at the immediate satisfaction, your walls taking every inch of his cock as he works his way to fill you up completely.

Only when you can feel his hips against you does he speak up again. “I guess so.”

You let yourself fall flat on your back, a smile on your face as he smirks at you. He grabs your other thigh with the hand that helped him, digging his fingers into the flesh there as if to brace you.

He pulls back out of you slowly, brushing your g-spot while doing so. You let out a soft hum at the feeling, anticipation for what he’s about to do crawling through your body and causing even more wetness to come out of you and around his cock.

He opens his mouth to say something when he pauses his hips, staying totally still for a second. You wait for him to speak, but nothing ever comes. As you’re about to ask him about it, he cuts you off with the quick movements of his hips as he starts to pick up a fast pace in and out of you.

He’s got his lip between his teeth in concentration, the veins in his neck and arms sticking out with the force he’s using to hold you against him while he pounds into you. You let your mouth fall open while you close your eyes, the feeling already so good you can’t speak. You grip the sheets tightly in your hands, doing what you can to stay close to him despite the force of his hips continuously pushing you away. You can feel your tits moving with his motions, and you’re sure if you were to open your eyes, that’s where his gaze would be locked. Even before you’d fucked that’s where you’d catch him looking if he thought you weren’t paying attention.

“Such a nice pussy, shit,” he moans.

A whimper comes from the back of your throat and you open your eyes when you feel his lips against your leg. At first his touch is soft there, light kisses despite the hard and fast movements of his hips. But soon he’s nipping at your skin, almost like he’s using you as a way to quiet himself.

That’s not what you want, though. You want him moaning, whimpering, saying your name. So you do the one thing you know will get to him.

You clench your walls tightly around him, and it instantly changes the game for both of you. As you continuously clench and release, you can feel him press tighter against your walls. The pressure on your g-spot causes pleasure to shoot from your core to your whole body, and you moan loudly as his hips stutter.

“Y/N - fuck - keep doing that,” he practically begs, leaning further over you and bending you in ways you didn’t even think possible. You’re sure you’ll feel it tomorrow, but you don’t even care. Especially not when your name sounds that good when he’s moaning it.

So you listen to him, and soon you can feel the sweat gather along your hairline as your orgasm slowly creeps through your body. It feels good having him on top of you, gripping you, so deep inside of you.

He’s panting above you, and you can see how far gone he is, too. So you decide to act before you think, forcing your fingers under his that are gripping your thighs, making him hold your hands. His eyes meet yours to make sure you knew what you were doing, but he never fought you. If anything, he started grinding his hips into your more, making sure to reach any spot that went untouched.

He lets go of one of your hands, causing you to pout for a moment. But your lips are quickly turning into an o as you feel his thumb rub your clit.

“Shit, Gray,” you whine, digging your nails into his palms.

He grunts, and you’re pretty sure his lip will be bleeding once he finally releases it.

Before you can get too concerned with it, however, you feel your orgasm quickly coming from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, and it comes out much breathier than you intended.

“I got you, let go baby,” he huffs out.

Baby. Suddenly you had a new favorite to hearing your name from his lips.

And that’s what pushes you over the edge, your back arching as you finally fall over the edge, pleasure taking over your entire body as you moan out over and over again how good you feel to him. You’re not even sure what you’re saying and if it makes sense but you don’t care. You feel too good to care.

You can feel him finishing in the condom once you feel a bit more connected to reality, his grip on your hand almost painful as he pushes his hips into you one final time before resting there and halting all his movements.

You try to regulate your breathing as he comes down from his own high, his eyes closed. You take the time to admire him, watching his bulging arms and defined chest continue to tense with the pleasure he’s trying to recover from.

Once he opens his eyes, he moves to stand up completely again. He lets go of your hand, and you can’t ignore the slight pang of sadness that shoots through you when you feel the coldness of the air against your palm.

He throws the condom out in the trash next to your bed before looking down at you. You stay in silence for a minute, both of you unsure what to do now.

“I should probably go, right?” He asks, and you’re not sure if it’s your post orgasm glow or the sadness you feel at the idea of him leaving that makes you think he’s almost asking just to make sure he can stay. But you’re sure that’s not what he means.

“Yeah, probably,” you mumble as he leans over to pull his pants up. Once he’s done that and begins to put his shirt back on, you sit up to watch him move around the room.

Only when he grabs his phone and keys does he look at you again.

“Nice fucking you,” he says, nodding his chin as a way of saying goodbye before leaving your room.

Exactly what you thought, just a nice fuck.

***

You were sure if you got hit by an 18 wheeler you’d probably feel and look better than you did right now.

Seeing your family was never easy, and on top of the exhaustion of avoiding Grayson like the plague? You were done.

It had been six weeks since you’d last seen him, heard his voice, said anything mean about him. Because you haven’t even had the opportunity.

After the last time you fucked, neither of you reached out. You continued to avoid seeing him, and him you, because what were you gonna say? Suddenly I don’t hate you, I definitely like you, I wanted you to stay, and I wanted to spend time with you? Absolutely not. Not when you were so sure he’d laugh in your face and make your life miserable every time you were forced to be in a room together.

So you went a full 6 weeks without Grayson Dolan.

The first two weeks were okay, because you’d done that many times. Two weeks without him was easy, manageable. But at the beginning of week 3 when you heard Ethan telling Kacey how Grayson refused to come around when he knew you’d be there? That’s when you felt yourself break.

You didn’t even try and hide it from Kacey this time, letting her hold you when you cried. Which was a lot, because apparently pushing your feelings to the pits of hell for this long made shit a lot harder when they finally resurfaced. The last three weeks were spent in self pity parties, ice cream, movies and wine. And tears. Lots of tears.

It was safe to say you were not doing too hot, and your family never helped. So you left your parents’ house early, and were looking forward to spending the night with Kacey chilling out and not having to worry about anyone else in your life. The long trip back to your cozy apartment didn’t help, either. It gave you too much time to overthink the things that constantly seemed to take over your mind, so by the time you were opening your door there were tears filling your eyes and you could feel your lower lip begin to quiver.

“Surprise Kace! My dad’s still a fucking piece of shit, so I came home a day early,” you meakly call through the apartment, taking your shoes off as you’re met with silence besides the TV.

“K? Can we get McDonalds? It’ll help me-”

Your bag falls out of your hand as four pairs of eyes meet your hunched over, weak figure when you turn around on the hunt for your roommate. Kacey was cuddled to Ethan on the couch, and Ryan and Grayson sat on the floor by the coffee table that had half empty chinese food containers spread across it.

“Oh.”

“Hun what happened? Are you okay?” Kacey stands as she talks to you, her eyes softening and you do everything you can to keep your gaze locked on her. You can feel Grayson’s eyes burning into your face, and it’s only making you want to cry more.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you lie, your voice cracking as you do your best to put a small smile on your face. They can all clearly see through it, but you’re grateful none of them push it.

“You want some chinese?” Kacey offers once she finally meets you, putting her hands on your arms almost to steady you even though you weren’t swaying.

You look over her shoulder and to the food on the table and for a second your eyes meet Grayson’s. They looked sad, sad for you. And that’s the last thing you wanted.

You look back at Kacey, shaking your head. “I’m good. Gonna shower anyways.”

You move away from her, grabbing your bag and walking down the hallway. You don’t even bother dropping anything in your room first, heading to the bathroom and shutting the door. It’s moments like this where you wish you and Kacey had gone a little nicer on your apartment, because your broken bathroom lock is staring at you right in the face as you pray everyone respects your privacy.

You turn on the shower to let it heat up, but the minute you see yourself in the mirror, the tears begin to fall. You just hoped the sound of the water drowned out your quiet sobs as you gripped the counter to try and keep yourself steady.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Ethan asks as Kacey comes to sit back down with a frown on her lips.

She nods, sighing. “Yeah, she just hates talking about that stuff with anyone. Hell, I barely know anything, just that she had it kind of rough growing up and she’s still pretty fucked up for it. She usually needs a few days to recuperate from a good visit to her family, so I’m surprised she was able to get through the living room without crying.”

The three guys take in the new information in silence, Ethan wrapping his arm around Kacey to keep her close to him.

Grayson stands, wiping his hands on his shorts. Ethan raises a brow at him in question, while Kacey and Ryan simply watch his movements.

“I have to pee.”

“We only have one bathroom, Gray,” Kacey reminds him.

“I know.”

He turns and walks to the hallway you disappeared down just a few minutes before.

“Grayson,” Kacey calls to him, making him turn to look at her.

She gives him a do you have any idea what you’re doing? look.

His lips tighten as he gives her a curt nod before turning back and walking up to the bathroom door. He knocks gently, putting his ear close to the wood to try and hear you behind it.

The sound makes you jump as you sniffle and quickly wipe your nose. “Kacey, listen. I know you’re worried, but I really just need a shower first.”

Your voice is thick, and it’s obvious to Grayson that you’d been crying. It breaks his heart a bit, as confusing as it is for him. Is that what you sounded like if he had made you cry?

“It’s me.”

The second you hear his voice your whole body tenses as you lift your head to look at yourself in the mirror again. Your eyes are red and puffy, your nose irritated and your lips swollen. You somehow looked ten times worse than when you first walked in the door, and you had little interest in letting Grayson in.

“Y/N.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back down. “What?”

“I gotta pee.”

You scoff, and the familiar anger you hadn’t felt for almost 6 weeks weeks boils right back up in you. You hate to admit it, but it felt good to feel something normal, something other than sadness even if it’s just for a moment.

You swing the door open standing almost chest to chest with the man who has haunted you for way too long now.

“I’m going to take a fucking shower first. Then you can pee.” You sound way less angry than normal, much less of a bite to your words.

His face is soft as he takes in your appearance, his body blocking you into the bathroom without an escape.

“It’s an emergency.”

It’s clearly not, and by the tone of his voice you’re not even sure he has to pee at all. He’s casual, calm even, besides the worry on his face.

You groan and sniffle, rolling your eyes before turning and walking farther into the room. “Can you at least let me get in first?”

He steps into the tiny room with you, closing the door behind him. “Sure.”

“Without you in here.”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve already seen it all. Get in the shower so I can pee.”

“Turn around,” you whine, and he can tell your patience is running thin. You’re grateful he doesn’t push you farther, his body turning so his back is to you. You’re quick to strip yourself of your clothes, opening the curtain and stepping in.

“I can’t believe you couldn’t wait ten minutes to fucking pee,” you complain, grabbing your shampoo.

You hear Grayson move around outside the shower.

“If you’re gonna complain about me at least do it to my face so I’m not talking to a damn curtain like an idiot.”

You pull the curtain back so that your head can pop out to see he is sat on the now closed toilet seat.

“Fucking dick, didn’t even need to take a piss. Why do you have this incessant need to bother me all the time?” You throw the curtain back into place, beginning to wash your hair as you do your best to control your breathing. You can feel the tears that still threaten to spill start to well up in your eyes, but you’ll be damned if you’re caught crying by Grayson Dolan.

“You make it fun,” he chuckles out.

You bite your lip, pausing your movements to prevent any tears from falling. You’re unsuccessful, feeling a few fall down your cheeks before you can stop them, but the water washes them away quickly. You take some deep breaths, washing the shampoo from your hair to try and calm down a bit. You didn’t like how your anger at Grayson was making you sad now, too.

“Y/N?” He taps on the curtain, causing you to jump and gasp. Your hand comes to your chest to cover your heart that was already beating fast.

“What?” You snap.

“I went 6 weeks without talking to you, I’m not leaving until you fucking say something back.”

You huff, and honestly consider sitting on the floor because of your lack of energy. “What do you want me to fucking say, Grayson?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, and you can hear him get up and pace. “That you hate me, that you think I’m annoying and rude and narcissistic and that I’m dense or whatever the fuck you feel like I am today! Just fucking call me something, say something.”

“Well, I don’t have the energy to fight your dumbass right now, so either pee or leave.”

Grayson smiles to himself at the name you still managed to throw in there, but it quickly falls when he hears a tiny sniffle from you.

You don’t hear anything from him for a minute, and you begin to assume that he had managed to sneak out without you knowing.

So you condition your hair, letting the tears roll down your face again as your ears begin to ring from how overwhelming everything has been the past day, weekend, months. You can barely keep your surroundings clear in your mind with everything racing through it.

Which is why when the curtain is suddenly being thrown back and a naked Grayson is stepping in the shower with you, you almost scream bloody murder before he covers your mouth and grabs your hip to keep you from stumbling backwards.

You relax at his touch, realizing you’re not going to get murdered (watching Criminal Minds was probably not the best idea when you’re so high stress at the moment). He removes his hand and you frown immediately.

“Why the hell are you in my shower with me?”

“Because you won’t talk!” At this point you can see how distressed he is, the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced than normal and his bags darker than normal. It’s really the first time you’ve had to consider how much you guys not talking could have weighed on him. You assumed he would find a new girl and move on, while you made Kacey practically babysit you. It never crossed your mind that he would have felt even similarly to you.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

You can see how your words cut deep instantly, and you regret saying them. Especially because it’s not true, you’re finding yourself wanting nothing more than for him to stay right now and talk to you. To comfort you.

“So then tell me what happened six weeks ago that changed shit. Or tell me what happened with your dad. Or just fucking tell me something,” he pleads weakly.

You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him flush against your wet body. You rest your head on his chest and close your eyes while one of his large hands caresses your back, the other coming up to stroke your hair.

You guys stand like that for a while, your sense of time totally thrown off. It could have been two minutes or two hours, you didn't know. But he stayed there holding you, keeping you close to him.

“I really wanna tell you about my dad, but I can’t right now,” you mumble out.

His muscles tense for a moment at the sound of your scratchy voice before he continues to rub your back.

“You don’t have to. Are you physically okay?” You nod, your cheek rubbing against his now wet chest. “Yeah. It’s just really hard to say out loud, and I need to process it before I tell someone.”

“That’s okay.” He leans down to leave a few gentle kisses along your hairline.

“But know that when I do tell you it’ll make more sense why I hated you. And why it’s hard for me to trust you. And why I avoided you for so long. It’s not an excuse, but know I don’t like being this way.”

He tightens his arms around you, resting his cheek on top of your head. “I don’t think I was very helpful to the cause, either.”

You chuckle, cuddling further into him. “I should probably finish showering.”

He lets go of you with that, holding you by your shoulders instead. “Want help?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, I know how to wash my own body. Plus, you don’t get to touch my tits yet.”

He pouts, letting his gaze fall to them. “Why not?”

“Because I’m still mad at you for lying about having to pee.” You put your hands on his chest, nudging him backwards a bit.

“Hey - hey, wait a second.” He grabs your wrists to stop your movements, pulling you back to him easily.

You both have stupid grins on your face, unable to contain the new feelings rushing through the both of you. Well, not new. But you were allowing yourself to finally feel them without covering them with anger.

He leans in closer to you, finally letting his lips touch yours for what feels like the first time. Yes, you’ve kissed before, and it was electric every time. But this? This was a whole new level.

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, his movements well thought out as he did his best to portray everything he couldn’t verbally with the way his lips fit so perfectly with yours. You felt butterflies in your stomach from how slow and sensual he was being, and you felt like you could melt right into him because of it.

Once he was satisfied, he grabbed the back of your head to keep you steady while he pecked a few quick kisses against your lips, making you smile against him. He only pulled away when you were both giggling.

“I guess I’ll leave you to finish your shower, then.”

You bit your lip, nodding your head. “Yeah. But can you do two things for me?”

He smiles and nods eagerly.

You giggle, putting a hand on his hip to start guiding him out of the shower. “Can you kick everyone out? And then sit on the toilet to keep me company?”

He smirks, stepping out of the tub. “What if I actually have to pee now?”

“So then fucking pee but don’t flush. I’m more concerned with getting everyone out.”

“Not gonna be able to contain how loud you’ll be when you finally let me touch you?”

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes. “You make it so hard to not wanna make fun of everything you say.”

“Hey, I’d rather you make fun of me every day than not talk to me at all,” he admits, his tone still joking but you can tell he’s serious.

You feel your cheeks blush as your chest swells, so you close the curtain to continue showering. “Get everyone out, you cocky, horny, dickhead.”

He laughs, grabbing a towel from the rack hanging next to him. “There she is,” he mumbles to himself, but you hear and feel your blush deepen further.

He walks to the door and opens it, walking the few feet it takes to reach where everyone was still anxiously waiting.

“Everything’s under control here. You guys gotta head out, though.”

Kacey looks at him in shock, taking in his almost naked, completely wet body as she pieces everything together with a look of confusion on her face.

“Do you have a fucking UTI or some shit?” Ethan laughs while his eyes are still on his phone before he also looks up at him, his phone falling out of his hands and into his lap. “Dude what the fuck?”

“I think we should go,” Ryan chimes in, standing up and clearing the containers from the coffee table.

“Grayson, what’s happening?” Kacey stands, concern still written all over her face. She walks up to him quickly, pointing a finger at him. “Did you take advantage of her? Grayson, she’s hurt! What the-”

Grayson easily grabs the hand that her pointed finger is attached to as he rolls his eyes. “No, Kacey. I talked to her. Comforted her, made her feel better.” Kacey raises her eyebrows at the last comment which makes Grayson groan. “Not like that. Made her heart feel better. I’ll tell her to text you when she’s feeling up to it for you to come home for her to explain, but please leave. She asked me to get you guys out.”

Her face softens at that as she looks over his shoulder at the open bathroom door.

“Y/N!” She calls loud enough for you to hear over the running water.

“Yeah?” Your voice is muffled but she can hear you’re less emotional than when you walked in the door. This makes her relax a bit.

“You want us out?”

“Yes please!”

That seems to satisfy her, as she backs away from Grayson slowly. “I can’t believe it,” she mumbles under her breath, shaking her head as she grabs her phone.

“Bro what is going on?” Ethan stands, looking at his brother for answers.

“Please,” Grayson practically begs. “Please leave and we can talk about it all later.”

“Yeah something tells me we don’t want to be around for when Y/N gets out of the shower,” Ryan adds as he gets his own stuff ready to go.

“Why are you so chill right now?” Ethan asks him.

Ryan shrugs, looking to Grayson for a moment.

“You got this?” Grayson asks.

Ryan nods, and Grayson turns quickly to make it back to the bathroom, back to you.

When the door shuts both Kacey and Ethan look directly at Ryan.

“Did you know about this? What the fuck is happening?” Ethan asks him as Ryan ushers them both to the front door.

“It’s not my place to tell you guys. But we definitely want to leave them alone.”

The two both continue to pester Ryan while they leave, and Grayson lets out a sigh of relief once he hears quiet outside from his place on the toilet.

“They’re gone,” he mumbles, rubbing his hands on the towel still wrapped around his waist.

“Hmm, suddenly I think I need a two hour shower.”

He groans, leaning back and hissing at the cold porcelain against his skin. “I’ll get back in with you.”

“You’re not invited,” you laugh, and Grayson laughs with you.

You’re quick to finish washing your body, itching to be out there with Grayson again. He sits there in a daze, replaying the sound of your laugh in his head on repeat and wondering how he went so long without it. And how much he regrets not being the source of it more often.

When you shut the water off, Grayson sits up giddily as he waits for you to finally get out. Somehow your time away from him now feels longer than the six weeks prior.

Your reach for your towel, lazily drying off because something told you there wouldn’t be many clothes in your near future. When you step out, towel held up to your front, Grayson is watching you with nothing but admiration on his face.

“What?”

He shakes his head, his smile so wide his cheeks hurt but he didn’t care. “Nothing. Just missed you.”

You giggle, going to straddle his thighs and sit on his lap, your towel barely covering you still. He grabs the back of your bare upper thighs to keep you steady as your free hand rests on his shoulder.

“You were literally sitting out here for, like, two minutes alone while I finished showering.”

He shakes his head chuckling, his gaze falling from your face to where you held the towel against your body as a rare feeling took over: shyness. It’s hard to make Grayson Dolan shy, to make him blush, but you’ve managed to do it.

“I meant the month and a half we didn’t see each other, but then too.” He shrugs as his thoughts run a mile a minute. “Fuck.” He laughs louder as he finally lets his eyes meet yours again.

“What now?”

“I’m feeling all...soft and shit. I don’t know. I’m not used to it.”

“Wow, I’m amazing. The girl to make the asshole who is Grayson Dolan soft for five minutes.”

“Yeah, let’s go with just five minutes,” he grunts as he stands, keeping his strong hold around you to keep you in his arms.

You laugh, pulling your chest against his as you wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady in his grip.

“Oh, and for the record,” you say while playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck as he does his best to maneuver to your room while looking at you. “I missed you too.”

Tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl​

read the next part here!

[marvelship-oneshots]

ITALY (STONY)

AU where Steve and Tony fall in love one summer in Italy, inspired by this beautiful fan art made by @vindemiatrix-moonpies

Tony had been left at the altar. The wedding was organised down to the very last detail, everything already paid for by Tony. Everything was perfect, everyone was there. Everyone except the bride. Mary didn't show up. Nor called, or texted. She just disappeared. Tony found out later that night that she had ran away and eloped with her lover. She could have had a perfect life with no one less than the Tony Stark, but in the end she had chosen love. 'Plenty of fish in the sea' Tony had told himself, because it was true, every single lady, and some single lads, was willing to marry Tony. Who wasn't? Mary apparently. The problem was that Tony loved Mary. He really wanted to marry her, she was not just another strategic economic move. He really thought she was the love of his life. But he wasn't hers. This was not going to stop Tony from enjoying his 3-month-long honeymoon in the sweet Italy. Tony laid on his bed the tuxedo, hoping that it wouldn't be there once he came back, he probably had to leave a note to Pepper or Happy. He definitely didn't want to see that suit ever again. He jumped into the first sweatsuit he found in his closet and, without even bothering to take his suitcase, drove to the airport.

Steve was 18 when he decided that America was not his home. As soon as he was out of High School, he took the first plane for Barcelona and went backpacking through Europe. He had always known that, eventually, he had to come back, but then he found the perfect little fishermen's town in the south of Italy, a place that he could finally call home. It was true, what the stereotypes were all about. Italian were indeed nice and friendly and welcoming and when Steve was offered to work for the son of the nice old lady who was kind enough to give him a roof over his head when he got lost in a storm, he felt like he had found his place in the world. Steve hated bad weather, after all he didn't know any fisherman that didn't hate bad weather. But that storm, that storm was a miracle, it might have put him on the wrong road, but it sure showed him the right path. Little did Steve know that he would have to thank bad weather once again.

It took Tony three days to realize that staying in his luxurious hotel room,drinking scotch and snuggling with self loathing wasn't going to take him anywhere. Eventually, he had to get back on his feet. "Stark men are made of iron" his father would say. One morning, he set the alarm way earlier than his usual. It was a nice day outside, although he could feel in his bones that a storm was arriving. The Tony of just one day before would have taken that as a sign to stay in bed, but not the new Tony. He only had 3 months to spend in what in his opinion was the most beautiful country in the world. He had his fancy breakfast, got into a nice linen shirt and drove out of the parking lot of the hotel with the beautiful red Ferrari he had rented for Maria. He drove to a nice little private beach, bought a straw hat because why not, and started walking on the shore, in search of a boat to rent. Tony eventually found one that he could rent and take out without any particular licence. Tony had never sailed a boat before, but he did drive some expensive cars, so he figured it wouldn't be that different, nor much more difficult. Also, he was a fast learner. Indeed, after listening to the renter explain how the boat worked, it wasn't that big of a deal for Tony. At least not until the big storm arrived. It started with the sky turning darker and the wind blowing harder. At that point, the waves were way too high and violent for Tony to come back. If he had had any experience sailing, he probably wouldn't have had any problem going back to the shore. But he didn't know how to face an angry sea and he panicked, which is something that every fisherman would tell you not to do.

The storm was finally over and Steve was walking on the shore, looking for possible damage caused by the storm. It was nothing out of the ordinary, storms happened in summer and that one wasn't any different. No boats were damaged, but he liked walking on the beach after the rain, the sand was humid and fresh and there was a nice breeze. He was collecting nice little seashells for his collection, he already had a handful, but he let them go as soon as he saw something laying on the sand, something that should not have been there. That something was Tony's unconscious body, dragged here by the waves. Steve needled by Tony's side trying to wake him up. He checked his vitals and looked for injuries that luckily were not present. He picked him up in bridal style and took him to his house. From there, he would decide whether he needed to go to the hospital or not.

Tony woke up in Steve's bed. He was feeling exhausted. There was a little ray of sunlight coming in from the window that was hitting him right on his face. Tony rolled over, trying to hide from the light, but fell on the floor with a loud thud. As he loudly growled, more from the frustration than for the pain, Steve ran in the room, as if he was standing right out of the door, which he was, kind of. "Hey, hey, do you hear me?" Steve asked in Italian. Tony was not sure if he understood him, but he could hear a thick American accent in his voice. Truth was, that, no matter how long Steve had been living in Italy, he could not produce an authentic Italian accent, although he knew the language like his own. "Water" Tony mumbled, closing his eyes. Steve ran away and came back with a glass of water. "Here" Tony took the glass with both hands, eagerly drinking it. "Do you know where you are?" Tony shook his head. "Do you know who you are?" Tony nodded "Anthony...Tony" Steve held out his hand. "Very nice to meet you Tony. I'm Steve" Tony shook his hand. "How are you feeling?" Tony nodded. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" "N-no I'm fine" Tony replied nodding. "Ok, let's get you something to eat, ok?" Steve got up, holding his hand out for Tony, waiting for him to take it. Tony looked around while walking to the kitchen. Steve's house was extremely small, it was all on one floor and it consisted of the bedroom, a small kitchen and what Tony could only assume was the bathroom. Tony sat at the rather small table while Steve fixed him a plate of pasta salad and sat next to him. Once he finished eating, Tony got up and reached for the door. "I-I have to go" But before Steve could reply, Tony collapsed on the floor. "It's late and dark, I think it's best if you spend the night here"

Despite wanting to leave the very first second he was conscious again, he soon realised that the quiet little fishermen's town and Steve's company were all he needed. Steve would go to work in the morning, before sunrise and would be back just in time to have breakfast with Tony and they would spend the rest of the day together. It was nice for Tony not to think about Mary for a while. But the dream had to come to an end, eventually. Tony had obligations and a multi billion dollar company to run waiting for him in New York. It was the beginning of September, the days were shorter and the nights were chiller. But it also meant that the town was quieter. Almost every last remaining tourist was leaving. In town there were only the fishermen and their families. Even they were starting to go back to their winter houses because the kids were going to start school in a few days. Soon Steve would be among the last remaining people in the town, with some old ladies. To them, Steve was a saviour, taking care of their groceries and their errands. That could only mean that it was the end of summer and, despite being the saddest time of the year for the residents, it also meant that the happiest days of the summer vacation were coming up. Every single free moment there was, was used to organise a more memorable feast than the year before. And Tony helped. Well, he mostly founded the feast, anonymously. He hadn't told Steve, nor anybody else, who he really was, he figured that, if no one recognised him, he would be nice to live like any other normal person for once. What he didn't take into consideration was the possibility that he could become attached to a certain muscular blond man.

The last night of the feast was also Tony's last night in Italy. He had already begged Pepper for more time, but she couldn't give him any more. There was live music and fresh seafood for everyone. Everyone was smiling, singing and dancing, celebrating the great summer they had. Tony was sitting at a table, a kid had just come to say goodbye. He was running out of time, and that little time he had, he wanted to spend it with Steve. "Steve" "Heeey Tony" He sounded slightly drunk. "I need to talk to you" Steve nodded and took his hand, walking him to the brickwork in front of the sea. "So, tell me" Steve was sitting facing the sea while Tony was facing the other way. "I'm leaving tomorrow" "I know" "I'm...not sure you know who I am" Steve looked at Tony. "You're Tony" "I am Tony Stark" "As in..." "Yes, as in Stark Industries" Steve sighed and looked back at the sea. "Ok" "Just ok?" Steve shook his shoulders. "Yeah, I don't care. It just explains how you could pay for everything" Tony giggled. "I don't want you to go, Tony" "Yeah, I don't want to go neither" Tony put his hand on Steve's. "Steve?" Steve hummed and slightly turned his head towards Tony. "Ithinkimfallingforyou" Steve giggled. "What?" Tony inhaled deeply. "I think I'm falling for you. Deep, like really deep" Steve smiled and caressed his hand. "I fell for you a long time ago, Tony" Steve turned to Tony, sitting astride the brick wall. He put a hand on Tony's cheek. "Can I kiss you?" Tony nodded, biting his lip. Steve put their lips together, pushing Tony back, making him lay on the wall and standing over him, while Tony threw his hands around Steve's neck. Tony mumbled. "What are we going to do?" Steve rolled his eyes "I don't know. We'll think about that tomorrow, now shut up and kiss me" Tony smiled, biting his lip again. Steve smiled and kissed Tony, trying to gain access to his mouth, that Tony kept denying. Steve bit Tony's lip and Tony gasped and Steve, catching the opportunity, slid his tongue into Tony's mouth, feeling Tony's body relax under his touch. Everything was going to be fine, the end of the summer meant the beginning of a life together.

[nikki-writes-stuff]

At the Edge of the Woods (Werewolf!Steve x Reader)

Summary: When you move into a cottage on the edge of the forest, you’re ready to start a new life in a new, quiet town. But when you attract the attention of Steve Rogers, a man who everyone in town seems to dislike and fear, your world is turned upside down after he decides that you belong to him. 

Pairing: Werewolf/Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Read part two here! 

A/N: Hey, guys! So a couple warnings about this one: it contains stalking, a/b/o dynamics, non-con, dub-con, breeding kink, and a whole lotta sin. Also, this is my first time writing anything with alpha/omega stuff in it, so be kind! And let me know if you liked it or if there’s anything I need to work on when writing about this sorta thing. Thank you so much, and enjoy!

It was love at first sight. From the moment you laid eyes on the cottage, you knew it would become your home. The thing was tiny, barely any bigger than a shack, and it was a good fifteen minutes’ drive from the nearest sign of civilization. But you didn’t care; you were enamored with the thick layer of ivy that had overtaken the western wall of the structure, and there were huge bushes of honeysuckle growing along the edge of the forest just a few feet from the backdoor.

And when your real estate agent told you the price of the property, the deal was immediately sealed.

“You’re kidding,” you’d deadpanned. “That’s all?”

“Yep,” she’d grinned, clutching her binder of properties tight against her chest. “Quite the bargain, huh?”

“I mean… Yeah,” you’d laughed. “It must be too good to be true. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, structurally,” she began, “The plumbing is on the older side of things, but it passed inspection. Same goes for the heating and air conditioning. There’s been a bit of a rodent problem in the past, but the appraiser said that a few mouse traps should do the trick to take care of that.”

Her smile had fallen at that point, though, and she shifted on her feet as she considered her next words.

“What is it?” you’d prompted.

“Well… The thing is,” she said sheepishly, “The locals have this superstition about the woods in this area. People say that they’re, uh…haunted.”

“…Haunted?”

You were barely able to contain an amused grin from overtaking your face, and with a shrug you turned back toward the kitchen, admiring the view of the trees through the little window above the stove.

“I know, it’s pretty weird,” the agent chuckled. “But people around here really do believe it. Something about an urban legend. I will say, though, that coyotes and wolves are known to roam around at night, so that’s probably where the paranoia comes from. Just try not to go out after dark. And if you get any chickens or outdoor animals, I’d keep them inside a kennel.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I’m not exactly a farmer. I’m just looking for a place to settle down.

“And I think this cottage is the perfect spot.”

A month later, after the papers were signed and your possessions were moved in, you found yourself happier than you’d ever been in your new abode. You’d purchased house plants and artwork, designing the small space until it was exactly to your liking. You’d even decided to take up gardening, and your tiny back porch had become dotted with pots filled with flourishing herbs.

You fell into an easy routine. On Mondays, you would venture into town, picking up groceries from the local mart and picking up any other supplies you needed. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were dedicated to your work; you were the owner and manager of a blog that had become an overnight success several months ago, and so you spent those days curled up in the cottage, typing away at your laptop and creating content.

The only strange thing thus far had been the town residents’ reaction to you. Everyone was friendly, of course, and they’d made it clear that small town hospitality was a value the entire population seemed to share, but you weren’t oblivious to the way they side-eyed you. No one ever looked suspicious, per se, more like…expectant. Like they were waiting for you to say or do something, though you had no idea what it could be.

Earl, the bookstore owner, was by far one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and after four weeks of the bizarre treatment, you finally asked him about it.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” he waved you off, sliding your new books into a paper bag. “It’s just that no one’s ever lasted long in that cottage o’ yours.”

“…Well, that’s a bit…unsettling. What happened to them?”

“Nothing,” he was quick to assure you. “Nothing bad happens to ‘em. It’s not like they’ve gotten hurt or anything. It’s just that, uh… Well. Strange things seem to happen in that part o’ the woods at night, and it’s scared the last couple o’ tenants off.”

“Huh… My real estate agent did mention something like that,” you admitted, starting to feel an irrational spark of apprehension. “What kind of things did they see?”

“Well… I don’t wanna scare you away,” he grumbled, scratching at his salt-and-pepper beard.

“I promise you won’t. I really like where I’m at right now. I’m just…curious, I guess.”

Earl seemed to consider it for a moment before giving in.

“Alright,” he sighed. “But for the record, I don’t believe any of the silly nonsense some folks ‘round here like to gossip about. This is a quiet town – a safe town. The only dangerous thing about this place is Mary Jo’s strawberry rhubarb pie down at the soda shop – I swear those things are the reason I got diabetes.”

You chuckled at Earl, and he gave you a warm smile before leaning towards you over the counter, propping himself up on his elbow.

“So, anyways, back to your house,” he started. “The last people there were this younger couple. They were nice kids – had just gotten hitched. But after a few weeks, they said they started noticin’ howls at night. Now, that’s normal for this area; we’ve got some wolves. But these howls were close, so loud that it woke em’ up most nights.

“Then, they started seeing people walking around the property around midnight. It coulda’ been that they were smokin’ some stuff they shouldn’a been smokin’, but they swore up and down that they saw naked men traipsin’ around. One time, there was one on their back porch, and the husband ran out to chase him off, but as quick as they saw him, he vanished.

“Again, I don’t know if I believe all of that junk,” Earl huffed. “But… the old lady who lived there before the couple said the same thing before she passed away, god rest her soul. And ol’ Lizzy didn’t lie about this sorta thing.”

You made a quiet hum of contemplation, nodding.

“Well,” you eventually spoke, “if I see any naked men hanging around, I have my handy dandy taser.”

A wide grin broke out over the older man’s face, and he reached over the counter to cuff your shoulder.

“Thata girl,” he chuckled. “I like it. And if you do see people hangin’ around on your property, give me a call, ok?” He fumbled around for a business card, eventually opening the cash register and pulling one out. “Call the bottom number if anyone gives you trouble, ok? I know I’m not the most intimidating guy around, but I keep a shotgun at the house just in case. And if the wolves become a problem, call the police. They’ll send some guys over from animal control to chase ‘em off.”

“Thanks, Earl,” you smiled, tucking the card into your wallet. “Oh, and before I forget, do you have any stationary? Letter writing paper, colored pens, that sort of thing?”

“I’m afraid we don’t. Oh, but Greg and Lou would probably have some. Try their art supply store; it’s right around the corner on the left side o’ the road.”

With that, you thanked Earl and walked out, clutching your paper bag of novels to your chest. You had to admit that the idea of wolves on your property was starting to scare you, but the thought of a naked guy just hanging out in the woods was enough to make you laugh to yourself. Even if it was true, you’d dealt with weirdos before. If that was the worst of your problems, then you’d be a happy camper.

You followed Earl’s instructions and immediately spotted a quaint store with a sign over the door reading “The Brushstroke”. Upon walking inside, you were greeted by the smell of paper and ink, and papier mache mobiles were hanging from the ceiling every few feet, dancing in the breeze that had flown in after you opened the door. Two men were standing behind the counter, sipping from steaming mugs of tea, and their heads popped up as you walked in.

“Hey, there!” one of them called, giving you a wave. “Welcome; come on in.”

“Hello,” you replied with a smile.

“We haven’t seen you around before,” the other man remarked, a kind smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be the new girl in town, would you?”

“Word spreads quickly, I guess.”

“It does when you live in a town like this,” he nodded. “I’m Lou, by the way. And this is my husband Greg.”

Greg nodded in greeting, and you gave them a wide smile.

“It’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Likewise, hon. Can we help you find anything?”

You told them what you were looking for, and they instructed you towards the back of the store, where you found a wall filled with rows of neat packets of paper right next to a cubby of pens of all types and colors. You took your time in making your selections, not even noticing the door of the shop opening and closing; it was only when you heard Greg and Lou’s quiet conversation come to an abrupt halt that you glanced around the corner to see what was going on.

Your eyes widened when you saw the man standing in front of the counter; he was tall, maybe a few inches over six foot, and built like a tank. A thick, well-groomed beard adorned his face, and his hair was on the longer side, curling just past his ears in thick, easy waves. Despite the chilly weather outside, he was only dressed in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and you watched his biceps bulge under the fabric as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“…Steve,” Greg finally said. “Long time no see.”

The man – Steve, evidently – nodded his head as he approached the counter.

“Wh-what can we do for you?” Lou asked, seeming to shrink back as he walked towards them.

“I need a new sketchbook,” Steve mumbled, almost too quietly for you to hear. His voice was deep, resonating, and something about its gravelly edge made goosebumps rise up over your arms.

“You know where to find ‘em,” Greg stated after clearing his throat. “Just get whatever you need and go.”

It looked as if Steve was about to say something, but after a pause, he just nodded, ducking his head and turning directly towards you. You stiffened as he grew nearer, feeling an unexplainable urge to turn and run away from him, but then his eyes met yours, and you were frozen in place.

Blue irises stared directly into you, and you watched as surprise washed over his features. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in through his nose, and you swore that you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. When his gaze finally met yours again, and you stumbled back a step, stunned at the look on his face. It was as if he knew you.

But that couldn’t be; you’d never seen this man before. If you had, you definitely would’ve remembered him.

“I-I…” you stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, but all of a sudden you were broken out of your strange stupor. Fixing your eyes firmly on the floor, you turned and blindly grabbed the first stack of papers that your extended hand came in contact with. You did the same with the pens, grabbing a random pack before turning on your heel and heading towards the front.

Or, rather, heading directly into a broad, firm chest. You hadn’t heard any footsteps, but while your back was turned Steve had apparently stalked up behind you, and now you were so close that you could smell the distinct scent of pine wafting off of him. Pine and…something else, something musky. It made your mouth water and your eyes flutter shut, and you could have sworn that you heard a deep growl sound from his chest.

The noise startled you so badly that you dropped everything, even your paper bag from Earl’s, and you felt as if your entire body was trembling as you turned away. On unsteady feet, you walked back to the front, glancing at Greg and Lou out of the corner of your eye as you headed towards the door. Lou was watching you with a concerned expression painted across his face, but Greg was still staring Steve down, as if he were sizing him up.

The cold, early-spring wind hit you square in the face once you exited the store, and it sobered you up enough to cease your nervous trembling. There was still a sense of blind panic, though, a deep-seated fear that drove you to march over to your car without turning back.

As you peeled out of your parking space and sped towards your home, you slowly began to calm down, taking slow, even breaths to slow the frantic beating of your heart. As you put more and more distance between you and the mysterious man from the art store, you found that, even later on when you were safe in your home, you still couldn’t rationalize why you’d felt the way you had. And that evening, when you were getting ready to go to bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.

Typically, you kept the curtains in your bedroom open, enjoying the sight of the forest laying just beyond the panes of glass. But tonight, before going to bed, you drew them shut before burrowing under the covers, hiding away from the lingering, unexplainable dread that had followed you home that day.

____________

You weren’t sure what had woken you. When you jolted out of your slumber, you were laying sprawled out over your mattress, your sheets tangled around your ankles. Everything was quiet, unsettlingly so. It was as if your cottage was holding its breath, waiting for something horrible to happen. The world was black beyond your windows, and the clock on your bedside table read 3:42 in the morni-

Wait.

The lingering tendrils of sleep within your brain melted away as you bolted upright, your wide eyes focused on your windows and the curtains that were neatly pulled away from them. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slowly, deliberately, stood up from your bed, reaching for your phone blindly as you kept your eyes on the windows.

You drew the curtains closed as your thumb hovered over the emergency call button, and you gulped before turning towards your open bedroom door.

“H-hello?” you called out, voice still thick with sleep.

There was no answer, and you took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room. You were relieved to find nothing out of place; the kitchen, as well, was in perfect order, as was your tiny bathroom. You grew bolder as you searched your house, checking underneath your bed and inside of your wardrobe, but still you found nothing.

Eventually, you sauntered over to your back door, and that’s when you smelled it. Smelled him. The same scent that had flooded your senses back at the bookstore was thick in the air right next to the backdoor. You blinked rapidly, feeling a stirring in your gut as you inhaled it, and you gulped as you faced the door.

“…Steve?” you murmured, suddenly unable to make a sound any louder than a whisper.

Without realizing what you were doing, your hand came up to the doorknob, tracing the curve of it with your thumb. A tiny, experimental twist revealed that it wasn’t locked, and a small voice in the back of your head supplied that it was sure you’d locked it before going to sleep.

One more twist, and the door popped open, goosebumps rising up over your skin as the night air rushed over you. You turned on the porch light with a flick of your fingers and stepped out, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet. You half expected to see a naked man standing there just as Earl had said, but there was nobody.

You let out a shaky laugh, leaning against the doorway as your eyes flitted over the forest. You felt silly, getting all paranoid for no reason. With a small, sheepish smile, you straightened up and turned to head back inside, eager to climb back under your warm sheets and forget about the whole thing.

But that was when you saw it.

You stopped in your tracks and sucked in a deep breath as the wolf sauntered out from the tree line, its eyes focused directly on you just as yours were focused on it. Its fur was sandy and mottled with streaks of light brown and creamy white, and in the dim light you thought that you caught a flash of blue in its eyes. You took a step backwards as that same smell washed over you, and for a short, fleeting moment, you thought that there was something familiar about the beast.

It took another step towards you, and that was when you realized how massive it was. You’d seen pictures of wolves on the internet; you knew how big they were supposed to be compared to people. But this was another thing completely; this wolf looked to be the size of a grizzly bear, and you knew that if it were to stand up on its two hind legs, it would tower over you.

Abruptly, you broke out of your paralysis, blinking rapidly as you turned back towards your door. You heard a growl from behind you, but you ignored it as you fled back into your house, slamming the door shut and turning the lock back into place. A thud sounded on its other side, followed by the scratching of claws against wood.

You waited several moments, silently begging the animal to stop, but the thumping only carried on, accompanied by muted, distressed whining. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your phone, punching in ‘911’ and holding the device up to your ear.

“911, where is your emergency?”

“U-um… I-I’m at 432 Nottington Lane. Please, there’s this, this wolf outside and it’s trying to get it, and…”

As you spoke, the noises suddenly stopped. You paused, frowning at the door and straining your ears. But everything had once more gone silent.

“Hello, ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m still here. Um… I think it’s gone now. It’s… Yeah, it’s gone. I’m really sorry to bother you guys. Just, uh… Just ignore this call, please. I’m sorry.”

You hung up and set your phone down on the kitchen counter, staring hard at your back door.

“…Shit.”

_______________

You didn’t close your curtains again after that night. You told yourself it was because there was no reason to, that you had nothing to hide yourself from. But, in the back of your mind, you knew that it was because you were too afraid of waking up with them open of someone else’s accord.

Two days went by with no further incident. You kept up with your little routine, throwing yourself into your work and acting as if you weren’t still shaken up from the ordeal. You called Earl and let him know you’d seen a wolf, just like he’d said, and the two of you had laughed over the scare it had given you. But the laughter didn’t reach your eyes or your heart, and it was still hard for you to fall asleep whenever night came around.

On the third day, though, you decided that you needed to get out. Every time your eyes strayed to the forest, you felt a pinprick of anxiety, and you were desperate to forget about what had happened. And so, dressing in your most comfortable leggings and oversized sweater, you ventured out into town, stopping for breakfast at the soda shop.

Mary Jo’s Soda Shop had been open and owned by Mary Jo herself since before you were born. It was located right in the center of town, and it was the closest thing to ‘busy’ that the small township’s population could be capable of. The front porch was lined with old, worn rocking chairs, and empty planter boxes sat beneath every single window; you were sure that they’d be overflowing with petunias as the weather turned warmer.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy as you stepped inside. People of all different races and walks of life found solace under Mary’s roof, and it was clear by the easy smiles, easy laughter, and easy conversation that pervaded the dining room. A teenaged girl, who you’d later find out to be Mary Jo’s granddaughter, showed you to your table and took your order, and as you settled down into the cracked-leather seat of your booth, you found yourself finally relaxing.

It was easy to get lost in your own thoughts, especially with the dull roar of voices and the soft sounds of country music playing over the radio as background noise. You stared off into space as you sipped your orange juice, content to just zone out for a few moments and let your brain go on autopilot.

Maybe that was why it startled you so much when a man abruptly slid into the seat across from you. You were pulled out of your revelry by a dark shadow suddenly appearing in your peripheral vision, and your initial fright only deepened when you looked up to see who it was.

“Steve…”

The man from yesterday was staring you down, dressed this time in a red and black flannel. His hair, too, looked like it had been combed out, and his beard was shiny and soft-looking, as if he’d rubbed oil into it that morning.

You didn’t know what to say as he sat across from you, his fingers laced together on top of the table, and for an uncomfortably long moment, the two of you were completely silent.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, and you arched your eyebrow at him.

“Why do you want to know?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he let out a long sigh through his nose. He didn’t answer your question, and you started to shift in your seat as he continued to stare.

Finally, you told him, murmuring your name under your breath. Upon hearing it, he nodded, finally glancing up when your waitress came back to take your order. When her eyes fell onto the man seated across from you, she visibly paled, her mascara-lined eyes widening as her smile turned to a grimace.

“Mr. Rogers,” she said timidly, “my grandmother told you not to come in anymore-“

“It’ll be fine, Rosie,” he grunted. “I won’t cause any trouble; I’m just talking with (Y/N), here.”

Rosie looked over to you, and you blinked up at her, hoping your incredulity was showing through in your eyes.

“I… I’m not sure…”

Steve huffed and looked over at you, a predatory edge appearing in his visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged you. “Tell her.”

“I really don’t-“

Suddenly, his scent was flooding your senses once more, and you almost gagged on your words as you breathed it in. You wondered why Rosie didn’t seem to notice it as it washed over you, nearly suffocating in its intensity.

“I, uh…” Your voice trailed off distractedly, and Steve’s knee nudged yours under the table.

“I-it’s fine,” you finally managed to stutter, and a pleased smirk appeared over his features.

“See? Everything is fine,” he insisted. “Now, weren’t you coming to take our orders?”

Rosie hesitated, but finally she slipped a notepad out of her pocket and nodded.

“Perfect. I’ll have the sampler with crispy bacon. Eggs over easy. And, uh… a biscuit on the side,” Steve listed off.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, prompting you to jump a little before telling Rosie what you would like.

“Oh! Uh… I’ll have the same,” you muttered, though you hadn’t really been planning on eating anything of the sort.

But Rosie jotted it down in her notepad, all but fleeing to the kitchen after you were done speaking.

“And I’ll take some coffee!” Steve called after her.

When it was finally just the two of you, he once again gave you his full attention, and you fought to keep your mind straight.

“I don’t…know you,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know you, and you’re making me uncomfortable. Please, just-“

“I really liked the nightgown you had on last night.”

Your eyes bugged open, and your head shot up to look at him. You felt your blood run cold as he watched you with that same smirk he’d worn while ordering Rosie around, and you clutched your purse tighter to yourself.

“Wh…What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he insisted. “How are you liking living in that cottage? The last few people there-“

“What the fuck,” you interrupted. “You…you were watching me?”

He sighed at your interruption but nodded, leaning forward on his elbows.

“And you were watching me.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I never saw you, or I would’ve called the cops-“

“But you did see me,” he insisted. “While I was in my other form.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but then understanding came over you, and you shook your head.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You mean…the wolf?”

Steve nodded, looking up when Rosie came back with his coffee. She all but slammed the cup on the table, spilling a few drops of the beverage as she poured it. After shooting him a sour glare, she turned on her heel to attend to the other tables around you, the occupants thereof starting to notice who you were sitting with. The din of voices had gone just a bit quieter as they watched him, and you were starting to realize that the entire town knew who Steve was, and judging on the locals’ reaction to him, his reputation wasn’t on the favorable side of things.

“So… Let me get this straight,” you deadpanned, watching as Steve took a sip from his steaming mug. “You’re saying that you were the wolf I saw?”

He nodded, swallowing his coffee.

“I’m among the last of my kind,” he sighed, tapping his fingers against his cup. “At least in this area of the country. But, yeah, that was me, scratching at your door. I was honestly a little hurt by your reaction-“

“You’re fucking insane.”

A scowl overtook his features, and his hands tensed as his fingers went still.

“I would really prefer it,” he growled, “if you didn’t use that sort of language with me, Omega.”

“Ome- What?” You shook your head, unable to process how insane this man really was. “Ok, I’m done here.”

You grabbed your purse and stood up from the booth, but a hand clamped down on your upper arm as you made for the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Steve insisted, and you felt fear course through you at how possessive he’d just sounded. “We have a lot we need to talk about.”

“Let go of me!” You tried to pull away from him, but you might as well have been struggling against an iron chain. Steve didn’t budge as he held you in place, and a whimper escaped your throat as he began pulling you to sit next to him in the booth.

“Steve.”

Both of you froze when you heard the voice, and you looked up to see three men standing over your table, frowning at the man who still had a firm hold on you.

“Steve, let the girl go,” one of them said, and you saw Steve’s lip curl out of the corner of your eye.

“Rhodey,” he grunted. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not long enough,” the man fired back.

For a second, you were afraid that Steve was going to ignore them, but then his grip on you disappeared. You hurriedly stood up again, backing away until you were out of arm’s reach from him. The entire restaurant was silent as everybody within held their breath, watching Rhodey and Steve stare one another down.

“This isn’t any of your business,” Steve said, and it was then that you realized you couldn’t wait there any longer. You didn’t care how it played out; you just wanted to get out of there.

And so, while everyone was distracted, you turned on your heel and slipped out, pushing past the front door, running past the rocking chairs and planter boxes, crossing the street without first looking both ways. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute, and you didn’t fully know where you were running to until you were standing in the entry way of Earl’s bookstore.

“Hey, there,” he called out to you, but his typical cheerful greeting died on his tongue when he saw your face. “What happened?”

Twenty minutes later, you and Earl were seated in his office. You’d told him everything, save for the way Steve’s scent affected you. You knew it was crazy, and you didn’t want one of your only friends in your new town to think you were as insane as your stalker.

“…Shit.”

It was the first word he’d uttered since you began telling him your tale, and he rubbed his forehead as he took in your story.

“Shit. I mean… I always knew there was something off about that Rogers boy,” he admitted. “But he’s never pulled anything like this.”

You quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at him.

“Why does everyone dislike him?” you asked. “It seems like the whole town has something against him.”

Your friend sighed and sat back in his chair, stroking his beard in thought.

“It didn’t used to be that way,” he started. “Steve, he grew up here. He was always the golden boy – never cursed, never acted disrespectful. Hell, he was a boy scout for years, and all throughout high school he was the team quarterback. He won so many games that he became a local celebrity.

“But, uh… Well. Shit hit the fan the day he turned 18.”

You frowned; you couldn’t picture the crazy, creepy man you’d just been borderline-assaulted by as a popular, polite teenager.

“What happened when he turned 18?” you asked.

Earl hesitated, wringing his hands. For a pregnant pause, he didn’t say anything, but finally he took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t personally have anything against the guy,” he finally huffed. “But even I get the creeps when I’m around him. That boy, he was never the same after that fourth of July. Hell, the town hasn’t been the same since.”

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and finally Earl began the story.

“Steve’s folks were a nice couple. He was their only kid, so each year, Sarah and Joseph would throw Steve this big birthday party. I’m talkin’ fireworks, barbeque, the whole nine yards. But his 18th birthday outdid them all; the whole town practically showed up for it.

“But Steve was off the entire day; I think he was sick or something. He was real sweaty, and his eyes were all…red. Like he’d been scratchin’ at ‘em. And when the fireworks started goin’ off… The boy lost it.

“It was like a flip switched in him; next thing we knew, he was takin’ off into the woods, holdin’ his head like his skull was gonna split in two. His mama went runnin’ after him, and then his pops went to get ‘em after about five minutes or so when there was no sign of them comin’ back.

“After half an hour, we went searchin’ for ‘em, and it wasn’t till dawn that we found the three of them.”

Earl took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with a trembling hand as he recalled the memory.

“I was in the team that found his parents, and… Hon, they were butchered. The bodies, they were hardly recognizable. Big bites had been taken outta them; blood was everywhere. Another team found Steve about half a mile away, completely naked and shivering by the river.”

“Oh, my god,” you murmured. “That’s… That’s horrible.”

Your friend nodded gravely, but he wasn’t done yet.

“We all figured that it was a coyote that got ‘em,” he continued. “Or a wolf. But Steve… He was in shock, you see, so take what I’m about to say with a grain o’ salt. But all the way to the police station, he kept sayin’… He kept sayin’, ‘I didn’t mean to kill them… I didn’t mean to kill them.’

“O’ course, no one really believed him; it was clear that an animal had gotten to them, and this was Steve Rogers we were talking about. The kid had never said an unkind word to anyone. And his family got along great.

“A few years passed, and Steve was never the same, but we expected as much. Everyone was still nice to him, and he tried for a while, you know? But then Peggy moved into town.”

“Who’s Peggy?”

“She was this real nice girl – British. She moved with her family to the area. Shoot, she was a firecracker. Didn’t take any shit from nobody; the whole town fell in love with her. Including poor ol’ Stevie.

“When the two started dating, we were thrilled for ‘em. Steve was finally starting to act more like himself; you shoulda seen him. The kid was head over heels, and she was the same. About six months went by, and we really thought that they were gonna make it.

“But then…”

Earl swallowed thickly, eyes darting back up to your face before resting once again on his hands.

“Peggy was found one day in the woods, just like Steve’s parents – mauled, butchered…dead.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“No one saw or heard from Steve for years after that. The kid just vanished into thin air without warning. And so soon after Peggy’s death, well… You can imagine the rumors that started flying around about him. Five years went by, and that was when people started hearing and seeing strange things in the woods. And your cottage, it’s right by where the bodies were found; you can’t be more than a quarter of a mile from where they found Peg.

“Eventually, Steve moved back into town, though no one recognized him. He’d always been a skinny, lean kinda guy, but when he moved back, he looked like he does now. And even if he hadn’t changed so much on the outside, no one would’ve recognized the polite young man we’d all watched grow up in this new Steve. He was mean; I can’t tell you how many fights he got in at the bar, or how many times he lashed out at someone just to have an excuse to throw some punches.

“Whatever happened to his family and his girl, he’s never been the same since. And if he really believes what he told you earlier at the soda shop, then he’s finally lost his mind.”

___________

You spent the night at Earl’s house. He and his wife set up their guest bedroom for you, and as you and Sherry ate dinner, Earl called the sheriff. You listened in as he told him everything that Steve had done, including watching you the night before, and after ending the call, Earl gave you the sheriff’s number.

“He said to call him at the first sign of trouble,” Earl instructed. “And he said that he’s gonna head over to Steve’s cabin to have a nice, long talk with him. Don’t you worry; Sheriff Wilson is a tough son of a bitch, and he’s a great man. You’re in good hands with him.”

You thanked the couple profusely, and you were finally able to sleep restfully through the night, knowing that you weren’t alone. You didn’t even mind that you could hear Earl and Sherry’s snoring from all the way down the hall; you hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in days.

The next morning, Sheriff Wilson stopped by after Sherry had served up breakfast, and you had to admit that you did feel better after talking to him.

“So I set everything straight with Steve,” Sam explained. “He said that he’d been drunk that morning at breakfast, and he admitted to saying some things that he regretted. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf, and he said that he would stay away from you from here on out, if it would make you more comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if he moved to a different country altogether, but I’ll take it,” you’d joked weakly, coaxing a laugh out of the sheriff.

“Well, I’ll run it by him the next time we see each other,” he’d chuckled. “But for now, I think you’ll be just fine.”

After helping Sherry clean up from breakfast, you reluctantly got into your car and started back to your cottage, feeling your short-lived relief start to dwindle away as you approached your home. Who’s to say that Steve would stay true to his word? And there was something about the memory of him calling you ‘omega’ that didn’t sit well with you. You had no idea what that meant, but the conviction, the possessive, commanding tone in his voice still made shivers crawl up and down your spine.

Once you stepped into your cottage, you gave each room a cursory once-over, making sure nothing was out of place before plopping down onto your couch with your laptop. You were severely behind on work, and you needed the distraction to calm your nerves.

Before you knew it, the sun was starting to slip over the horizon, and as the evening turned to night, your eyelids started drooping. You’d finally managed to catch up on work, and although it took you until 9 o’clock at night, you were back on schedule with your blog.

Finally giving in to your sleepiness, you stood up and stretched before methodically going around to each door and window, making sure that they were all closed and locked. After once more checking that Steve wasn’t hiding in your wardrobe, shower, or backyard, you relaxed and went into your bedroom, changing into a flannel pajama set before crawling into bed.

Sleep came easily to you that night, but it didn’t stay for long.

_________

It was, once again, just after 3 in the morning when you woke up, although there was something different about this time around. There was an almost electric charge to the air, and it immediately made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You sat up in bed and looked around your room, and even though the curtains were still closed, just as you’d left them, you immediately noticed the smell.

Your hand fell onto your nightstand, blindly fumbling for your phone, but it wasn’t where you’d left it. Panic pierced through you, and you frantically reached for your charging chord, but it was no longer plugged into your cell. There was, however, something new sitting on your bedside table, and you flicked your lamp on to see clearly what it was.

Your blood went cold when you saw the paper bag from Earl’s, still filled with your new books, just as you’d left it in the art shop.

“I’d been meaning to give that back to you.”

A scream tore itself out of your lips, and your hand flew up to clap over your mouth as you turned to the man now leaning in your doorway.

Steve was watching you with an amused smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was wild, and you noticed the way his chest rose and fell with quick, uneven breaths. He looked…unhinged, and Earl’s voice started ringing in your ears, telling you all the gory details about the deaths that had followed this man through his life.

“Steve, please,” you begged, pressing your back against your headboard. “I don’t know what you want-“

“Oh, c’mon,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you can put two and two together.”

With that, he pushed off of the wall and sauntered towards you, ignoring the way you trembled as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I read your blog, by the way,” he remarked. “I actually liked it; you’ve got a talent with writing.”

You gulped, not sure what to say as he turned to face you. For a moment, something flashed through his eyes, something other than the smug cynicism that usually dwelled there, but he looked away before you could get a good look at it.

“I’m sure Earl told you a lot of things about me,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry that’s how you had to hear them. But I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you. Honestly.”

“Wow, that really puts me at ease,” you grumbled. “It definitely makes the fact that you’ve broken into my house twice now totally ok.”

Steve huffed, and annoyance crossed his handsome features.

“Careful, omega,” he grunted. “I’m trying to be nice, here.”

You wanted to snap at him that he should really try harder, then, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that you didn’t want to anger him if you didn’t have to.

“…Why do you keep calling me that?” you instead asked, and the fire in his gaze cooled just a bit.

“…I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he finally sighed. “And I can understand why this all sounds so crazy; if I were in your situation, I would probably think the same thing. But just… hear me out, ok? I’m going to tell you everything I know.”

You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest, and after another deep breath he began.

“I used to be normal, or so I thought,” he began. “I used to be like you; I didn’t know what was out there. I didn’t know that certain legends that we’ve all learned to accept as fiction were actually based on fact. But that all changed on my 18th birthday.

“That was the day that I first turned into a wolf.” Steve paused, looking pained for a moment, but after swallowing thickly he continued. “I had no clue what was happening to me. I just felt…wrong, like I was being torn apart from the inside. I fought to keep control of myself, but… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“People got hurt; I’m sure you’ve been told all the gritty details. But that wasn’t… It wasn’t me. I tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to keep it inside, bottled up, but eventually I couldn’t hold back anymore. And that was when I left.

“I went looking for people like me. It took me a while, but eventually I found a small group of them in New York. They called themselves the Howling Commandos.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Not the name I would’ve chosen, but they were good people. They helped me control it, taught me how to remain myself even when I’m in my other form. And I learned more about what it means to be a, uh…

“Werewolf.”

You bit your lip, staring at him as you grew even more fearful; he believed this. You could tell by the way his eyes were glistening with barely-contained tears, and if you weren’t so terrified of him, you would feel sorry for how sad he looked.

“Steve, you… you must realize that this is hard for me to believe, right? I mean… This isn’t Twilight; this is the real world.”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of that book.

“There’s about a thousand things wrong with that fucking story, and I’ll die mad about it,” he muttered under his breath, and you hugged yourself tighter as he stood up.

“You want me to prove it to you? Fine.”

Steve stood still for a long moment, closing his eyes, and you found your gaze straying to the door behind his back. He was distracted, evidently focused on transforming into a fucking wolf, oblivious to you as you slowly moved to set your feet on the floor.

Now is your moment, your brain whispered, and after taking a deep breath, you leapt to your feet. You didn’t notice the way his skin was slowly starting to grow patches of blonde fur, nor did you register that his voice had become more of an animalistic growl as he realized that you were trying to run. You were solely focused on making it out alive.

The back door was closer to you than the front, and you could practically feel Steve’s breath on the back of your neck as he gave chase, and so you nearly yanked the door off of its rusty, old hinges as you went flying out onto the back porch. You just barely managed to close the door behind you, and right before it slammed shut, you were able to make out an open maw filled with sharp teeth. The same thumping you’d heard several nights ago sounded from within your home, but with the way the wood was creaking and splintering, you knew it wouldn’t keep Steve trapped inside for long.

You began to run towards your car, but with a curse you realized that your keys were still resting on your coffee table inside the cottage, and you wouldn’t go back inside there if someone offered you a million dollars to. So, fully aware of what a terrible idea it was, you started running down the length of your gravel driveway, the small stones and twigs digging into your feet until you felt them starting to grow slick with blood.

You didn’t get far at all before you heard the sound of a low, deep howl split the silence of the night, and you pumped your legs even faster when you heard heavy footfalls starting to give chase behind you. Frantically, you turned and made a beeline for the forest, hoping to lose him in the woods. Low branches and brambles clawed at your face, and the cuts on your feet burned so bad that tears started rolling down your cheeks.

It was simultaneously an eternity and a millisecond before you felt a massive weight crash into you from behind, and with a cry you fell onto your belly. Your arms and legs scrambled about as you tried to crawl away, but you stopped with another scream when a set of impossibly sharp teeth nipped at your shoulder. Even though they didn’t cut deep, it was still enough to scare you into submission, and you immediately went still as your captor panted above you.

Your chest rose and fell as you fought to catch your breath, but it felt as if your heart had stopped beating entirely when you chanced a look to your right and saw…a paw. A huge, sandy-blonde paw about the size of your head was planted in the mud right next to your neck. You turned, and on your left side was the same thing.

Slowly, you rolled over onto your back, and you found yourself face to face with the wolf from before, only this time, you were close enough to see its blue eyes clearly – Steve’s eyes.

“…Steve?” you breathed.

Before your disbelieving eyes, the animal hovering over you started to shift and change, morphing gradually back into the man who’d terrorized you so much up to this point. Except now, as he straddled your hips, completely nude, you knew that he’d been right all along.

“Still think I’m crazy?” he panted, still out of breath from the chase.

“I… How…”

“I tried to tell you,” he grumbled, leaning down. You squirmed when you felt him press his nose to your neck, nuzzling it as he inhaled deeply, and you whimpered when his cock twitched against your thigh. “God, you have no idea what your scent does to me.”

You made a small noise of protest when his tongue darted out, laving over a spot right under your jaw.

“I thought it was too good to be true, you know,” he groaned, and you let out a noise that was dangerously close to a moan as you realized you could smell him once again. “I thought that people had to be a werewolf to be an alpha or an omega, but as soon as I smelled you in the art shop… Fuck, I knew you were mine.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to protest, but you were silenced when Steve nipped at your neck.

“We both know that’s not true,” he chided. “We both know what my scent does to you.”

Steve dragged his teeth down the side of your neck, and you shivered at the sensation. You wanted to fight this; you didn’t want to give in to him. But something inside of you refused to do anything but lay there beneath him, panting as he tasted your skin.

“I’ve never been with an omega before,” he confessed. “The Commandos told me they were incredibly rare, a dying breed just like me. But fate must have brought us together for a reason.”

“I’m… I’m not an omega,” you insisted, but a soft mewl fell out of your lips when he ground his hips forward, the line of his cock sliding up the length of your clothed pussy.

“Then why do you have a mating gland?” he rasped, his tongue darting out to lick at a spot on your neck.

“A what?” you squeaked, but suddenly his hands were on your hips, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. His palms groped your ass, and suddenly you felt your pajamas being pulled down until they pooled around your knees.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Steve growled.

No, no, no. Your thoughts were swirling rapidly as Steve’s fingers slid down your spine. You didn’t want this; you weren’t an omega; Steve was crazy.

Why does your body want this so bad?

You couldn’t find the strength to try and crawl away when Steve’s hands left you, but your eyes widened when he suddenly spread your legs wider apart. The cold night air was icy against your cunt and your thighs, and when the warmth of his hands finally returned to your body, you couldn’t hold in your moan.

“That’s right, omega,” he panted, his hand reaching down to cup your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet; it’s already dripping down your thighs…”

Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as he pushed his finger inside, and your body’s reaction started drowning out your brain. As he thrust his finger in and out, your hips started pushing back against him as white noise echoed in your ears.

“Mmm,” you whined, clenching your teeth. “M-more, fuck-“

“More?” Steve cooed. “You want more?”

You nodded your head, and a gasp parted your lips as he added another finger, curling it in a way that had you seeing stars. Your legs spread wider, and you dropped to your elbows, pushing back in time with his hand.

“This is what you need,” he growled. “You need your alpha to take care of you, don’t you? To use your pretty little cunt and fill you up with my seed. Ain’t that right, doll?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, feeling your walls start to flutter around him.

All too soon, though, he pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. You burrowed your face into your arms and whined at the loss, but a few seconds later, Steve was gripping your hips. You could feel his fully hard length against your ass, and your breath caught in your throat upon feeling how big it was.

“W-wait-“

Steve shushed you, tangling one of his hands in your hair as the tip of his cock glided through your folds, brushing against your clit.

“It’s ok, omega,” he whispered. “Just lay back and take it.”

With that, his head pressed against your entrance, and your lips parted in a silent scream as he impaled you. Your cervix ached as his dick pressed against it, and you were vaguely aware of the broken moans falling out of your lips.

“Fuck, doll,” your alpha breathed, and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Feels so good, so fucking good. My good girl…”

You groaned when he drew his hips back and thrust forward again, jarring your whole body with the movement. Your teeth clenched together as he found his rhythm, the initial stretch still burning. You’d never felt anything like this before, and the pain was mixing with your pleasure until you couldn’t tell one from the other.

Slowly, as the minutes went by, your abused cunt started to adjust, and your moans became less and less strained as you once more felt pleasure start to crest within you.

“That’s it,” Steve praised, pushing your hair away so he could press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Just relax; let your alpha make you feel good.”

You whimpered as he started thrusting faster, his hips snapping as deep, gravelly growls spilled out of his throat. Your own moans filled the air as you once again felt your orgasm build up inside of you. Your pussy walls contracted and fluttered as you got closer and closer, and Steve’s hand came down hard on your ass.

“Go ahead, omega,” he commanded. “Cum for me; don’t hold back. Give it to me; let me feel it. Cum for me-“

With a wail, your body did as it was commanded, and you trembled as you reached your climax. Your cunt squeezed his cock as he slowed his thrusts, and your hips moved of their own accord as you rode it out. Quiet, hoarse moans were still trailing out of your mouth as you came down from your high, and Steve’s beard tickled your skin as he pressed kisses along the curve of your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you were sickened to realize that you enjoyed his words of encouragement.

You were surprised when he pulled his cock out of you, and you allowed him to flip you over onto your back. His cheeks were flushed, and he was panting, and your eyes trailed down to see his cock still painfully hard.

Without warning, he shoved it back inside of you, and your hands flew up, digging your nails into his back as he once again started thrusting at a brutal pace.

“’M gonna fill your fucking pussy up,” he was moaning, his hair falling into his eyes while his mouth hung open. “Gonna breed you like the little bitch you are-“

Despite having just cum, shocks of pleasure spread through you as he filled you, and in this position, you could watch his muscles bulge and flex as he chased his release. His eyes were squeezed shut, and one of his hands was pawing and kneading at your breast as he used the other to support his weight. The veins in his neck throbbed as he grew closer and closer, and you were taken off guard to find that you were approaching your second climax with him.

“You already gonna cum again, baby?” he whispered. “Do it. Give it to me; I want it.”

You closed your eyes and arched up, frenzied moans of yes, please, God, more, I need more, spilling past your lips almost unintelligibly. You were so close – just a little more and you would be pushed over the edge.

Just before you could reach it, though, Steve’s eyes snapped open, focusing on your neck hungrily. You should have felt fear, knowing what he was, what had happened to his parent and his last lover. But instinct took over, and you found yourself tilting your head back, baring your neck to him in a sign of submission.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, and you shrieked as his teeth pierced your skin, right where he’d claimed earlier your ‘mating gland’ was. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel your life fade away, ready to see blood spurting up from the wound. But that never happened; no, instead you felt as if you’d just been electrified. Every sensation you were feeling was suddenly amplified tenfold, and your vision went black as you came for the second time.

Your ears were ringing, but you were still able to hear the primal roar that Steve let out as he came, painting your inner walls with his seed as hips finally slowed to a stop. For several long seconds, the two of you were perfectly still save for your chests as they rose and fell with your heavy breathing. Steve’s cock began to soften inside of you, but he made no move to pull away. No, instead he collapsed over you, his head resting against your chest as his heated skin shielded you from the cold air.

“You were perfect,” you heard him whisper, and one of his fingers came up to trace the bite mark he’d left behind on your neck. “Your bond scar is gonna be so gorgeous, little omega.”

Sleep threatened to overtake you as you lay there, not truly processing Steve’s words as his weight atop you lulled you towards sleep.

“Go ahead and rest, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll carry you back home, and then we can go again. Don’t worry, doll; I won’t stop until you’re nice and round with my babies.”

You should have felt scared – you should have pulled away and ran into the woods. But instead, you let out a content noise of acknowledgement before doing just as he said. The last thing you registered before slipping into a deep, dreamless slumber was his arms as they wrapped around you and picked you up, carrying you away from the road and into the forest.