#no comment on which if any of these are likely ever to be finished. rip

[newttxt]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you @strawhattery for @ing me, even though i do feel like it's a not-so-subtle urge to finish my current wips... (i need the kick)

for reference/those who only see my art, i used to be a fic writer who occasionally drew. that's obviously changed, but i am trying to write more, so you can find me at pseudoanalytics on ao3.

1) how many works do you have on ao3?

44, but only 35 are linked to me (9 are anonymous...)

2) what's your total ao3 word count?

347,773 😰

3) what are your top five fics by kudos?

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) [haikyuu, ushiten]

redacted :/

the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or, the fine art of emotional recognition) [haikyuu, sakuatsu]

you're really pushing it (but you're going much too slowly) [haikyuu, ushiten]

redacted :/ (sequel to the first redacted...)

4) what fandoms do you write for?

most of my fics are so old i can't bear to look at them, but i'm trying to write more for one piece. then i've written a decent amount of haikyuu, pacific rim, and star wars.

5) do you respond to comments? why or why not?

initially? i absolutely do! but as any of my friends will tell you, i struggle to even reply to dms or texts. so alas. i drop off pretty quickly

i LOVE comments though, and i eagerly read and reread them frequently ;__;

6) what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh sheesh. you may only ask once (so be prepared for the reply) which is a bad end for pacific rim 2. or i guess... a worse end. it's also a bit of a role swap au, if i remember correctly.

7) what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i... honestly don't know. i typically write happy endings. i like to write "missing scenes" and post-canon, so things tend to be rather open-ended or to just lead into the next part of canon. my memory is also not my prize-winning quality, so i can't really remember how my fics ended pre-2018ish.

8) do you get hate on fics?

i know i've gotten some ruder bookmarks, but not typically, no. i get more hate on art or in my ask box, but i honestly just delete it all, so it never sticks.

9) do you write smut?

yes, though its debatable if it's "smut" so much as "sex in such an irreverent context that it becomes humor." i cannot take sex seriously, so alas, i rarely write it seriously. i use it more as comedy and a tool for character studies. i do enjoy a stoic character's facade getting cracked open.

10) do you write crossovers?

i don't write legitimate crossovers, with characters from different medias intermingling, and frankly, i rarely do au's either.

but if i have one weakness, it's that i am ALWAYS a sucker for a pacific rim au. yes, i am rotating a one piece version in my head.

11) have you ever had a fic stolen?

i had a sakuatsu one reuploaded to wattpad under someone else's username. they deleted my author's notes and added their own, as if they'd written the fic, too. hilariously they even used my art for the cover.

it got taken down, but idk why. i never reached out about it.

12) have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah! i've had 5 translated, and i've had 2 turned into podfics, which is cool.

13) have you ever cowritten a fic before?

nope. i'd be terrible to work with, tbh. my writing process is a holdover from my journalism days, and the steps are a mystery even to me. i think i'll stick to drawing art for other ppl and their fics.

14) what's your all time favorite ship?

i will hold to the fact that it's asanoya from ao3. they were the first ship i got really invested in, and i see their impact on everything i ship to this day. they were my "blueprint," if you will. i still get smiley when i see art for them!

on the flip side... terezi/vriska was also a formative ship for me. but i won't discuss that.

15) what's the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

rip go ahead and start talking (i'll pick up the slack). it's my 1-of-2-chapters ushiten fic that i should just mark as complete, since the first chapter can stand alone.

16) what are your writing strengths?

hard to determine your own strengths, but i think my dialogue/characterization are pretty strong, especially since i still regularly flex those muscles when writing comics. i also think i'm funny.

17) what are your writing weaknesses?

writing.

but seriously, i am so bad at sitting down and just hammering out a fic. don't get me started on outlines or longform works. i'd rather grab my pencil and start drawing, i'm afraid.

18) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think there are ways to interweave words or terms in other languages, but overall, i'm a fan of just standardizing everything into one language. if your character understands it, i think all readers should be able to understand it. and i'm not a fan of when you're expected to scroll to the end for a translation; i think it interrupts the reading flow.

this is a generalized opinion though. i think there are ALWAYS storytelling exceptions, so if the other language usage is really important to your theme/intent, i can see why you would do this!

19) first fandom you wrote for?

please don't do this to me. it was maximum ride. yes, the james patterson books about the kids with bird wings. i wrote 4-5 fics, i was in middle school, and — as far as i know — they are still up on ff dot net. no, i won't elaborate.

20) favourite fic you've ever written?

hands down, it's the sakuatsu domesticity simulator. it's not necessarily my best work in terms of writing skill, but i also drew over 50 images for it and html coded it into an interactive story. i'm just proud that i started a big project by myself and i actually finished it!

it's my dream to someday make a whole visual fan novel. i feel like the domesticity sim was the first step.

oh boy i'm bad at tagging but if @syrupfog, @lawsbbygirl, @macabrekawaii , @bmouse, or @cooknumber3 want to go for it... :))

[van1lla-v1lla1n]

WIP Tag Game

tagged by @etoilesombre

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

max/anne hurt/comfort

jopson/irving 50s office au

hartnell/tozer but it's hartcroft (one-sided)

hickey/goodsir alaska naturalist au

westward trail

femme hiker/gargoyle

werewolf/cowboy

tagging @midwinterspringwrites @unnecessaryligatures @jopzer @ferylcheryl @ivorycloudscape @fireferns @snippedhazard (slash whoever wants to do this!)

[aromanticasterisms]

As anyone who has ever listened to me talk about Lightning Gods for 2 seconds knows, I personally am not too fond of the Thunder Legion backstory we got from it. Partially because I am a childhood friends Thunder Legion truther, but mostly because I didn’t agree with the characterization choice that had them decide to follow Laxus after…that.

But I understand why it is the way it is, and more than that, I can see now that it does a fairly decent job at using what little space and time there was available to tie into the main focus of the story of Lightning Gods. Namely, Laxus’s and the Thunder Legion’s views on strength, the trust that all of them have in each other, and how that manifests in different ways.

Let’s begin with an overview on the Thunder Legion’s obsession with strength and duty, where it came from, and how it has changed forms over time.

The backstory for the Thunder Legion proposed in Lightning Gods is this:

Freed, Bickslow, and Evergreen team up to take on a job, only to find when they get there that Laxus has already finished it on a whim. They exchange some harsh words, and not long after they descend into a fight. Laxus beats them easily, and the three of them are awed and frightened by his strength and power.

Laxus, meanwhile, surprises them by complimenting them […sort of] on being the strongest guild members he’s seen in a long time, in giving him a good fight.

This event is what inspires the three of them decide to band together to form the Thunder Legion—a team dedicated to watching Laxus’s back. It is also the event that sets up their mentality further down the line: physical and magic strength are the most desirable traits one can have, and by continuing to be strong and interesting, they are allowed to stand by Laxus’s side.

Cut to years later, when the most obvious culmination of the Thunder Legion’s obsession with strength takes place: the Battle of Fairy Tail.

The entire point of the game is to weed out the weak from the strong, to create a stronger guild for Laxus to inherit. On his orders, the Thunder Legion are utterly merciless to anyone they deem weaker than themselves.

At first, this seems like purely blind loyalty, but as time goes on, we get a glimpse that it might be more than that. Specifically, right after Evergreen’s loss, we see that the standing the Thunder Legion has with Laxus isn’t a whole lot more solid than the rest of the guild, right now.

The moment Evergreen is beaten by Erza, Laxus re-categorizes her in his mind from strong to weak, and is ready to discard her, saying that he doesn’t need her in his Fairy Tail.

Freed expresses that he or Bickslow should have gone instead—not that Evergreen is weak, not that they don’t need her, but that Erza is simply too strong, and they should have sent someone better suited to counter her.

He then tells Laxus that the game is over, the battle lost, and Laxus tells him that unless he is willing to do exactly as he says with no hesitation, Laxus doesn’t need him in his guild either.

After this exchange, we now know that the Thunder Legion are only standing beside Laxus because they are strong. If they are weak, if they falter in their duties, they will be abandoned, discarded, and replaced.

The three of them are beaten, the game is lost, and Laxus is exiled. They slowly begin to settle back into the guild, to reconnect and mend bridges. But that obsession with strength and duty that the Thunder Legion has cultivated has not completely gone away—merely changed forms.

After all, few of their guild mates can stop themselves from commenting on how ridiculously strongthe Thunder Legion are. Many of them saw their magical strength firsthand, so the three of them are desperate to prove that their abilities can be put to good use.

When it comes to fighting strength, their mindset is one of protecting their guild mates no matter the personal cost. For Freed and Bickslow, we tend to see this manifest outwardly, as continually attempting to sacrifice themselves for their loved ones. For Evergreen, we see this manifest more as an internal struggle, as blaming herself for not being strong enough, and thinking that her lack of ability is what causes others to be hurt.

When Freed is selected to take place in the S-Class trials, with Bickslow as his partner, the two of them are paired up against Lucy and Cana. They proceed to throw the fight in the girls’ favor, allowing them to move forward. Freed says he owes it to the two of them specifically, after what happened in the Battle of Fairy Tail.

Later, when Evergreen and Elfman are targeted by Rustyrose and defeated by him, Evergreen blames herself for not being strong enough, and says that if it weren’t for her, if Elfman had picked a different partner, he may have been able to succeed.

In the Key of the Starry Sky arc, Bickslow throws himself in the way of an attack to save Wendy, and even insists that she should abandon him and save herself—abandoning a comrade who is nothing more than dead weight is still a viable strategy in his eyes.

“Sometimes you gotta have the courage to leave your friends behind too!”

However, unlike Laxus [who I’ll talk about later], the Thunder Legion largely understands that there are different types of strength. Laxus judged himself and others using solely fighting strength as a metric, but the guild as a whole requires a more diverse skill set to deal with a range of day-to-day issues, which the Thunder Legion commit to their comrades with just as much enthusiasm.

Freed’s mission with Wendy is a good example of this. The Master—and Cana, of all people, who Freed feels he has a personal debt to—entrusts not only Wendy’s safety to him, but also her growth and development as a mage. He follows the rules set by them to the utmost of his abilities, even having a minor crisis when his two duties conflict, and he doesn’t know which course of action is the right one to take.

When there is a clear course of action, though, he’s quick to take it, utilizing his runes and his blade for all manner of things that have nothing to do with fighting.

At one point during the journey, Happy comments:

“That’s the Thunder Legion for you! Always there in a time of need!”

It’s clear that by this point, they have already established a reputation for being incredibly reliable and dependable, despite the fact that this is quite soon after the Battle of Fairy Tail, and the three of them rarely spent time in the guild hall beforehand.

These feelings of needing to be strong and useful so people keep them around linger on even past Fairy Tail’s disbanding, into Lightning Gods. The three of them are incredibly eager to be helpful to Laxus.

Evergreen reinforces this when they step up to destroy the Vesper Blockade Mirror for the first time:

“Let’s show them why you keep us around.”

She says this in tandem with Bickslow, who says Laxus won’t enjoy destroying an object. The three of them step forward to do work that, they assume, Laxus would find tedious or boring.

Not long after they figure out how to destroy the mirror, the priestess Weyse shows her true colors as a Zeref fanatic, and takes on the powers of the demon God of Nightfall.

The God of Nightfall is, quote:

“…a type of magic that shows people illusions of the doubts and fears…and traumas…they carry deep inside.”

To torment the Thunder Legion in the illusion, Weyse begins with this:

“Oh, you guys! As if he could rely on you! You call yourselves his bodyguards, but at the slightest threat you just bleat out for him. No wonder he gets hurt worst of all.”

This doesn’t seem to affect them at all, as all three’s responses are rather unimpressed.

“Yeesh. What terrible lines.” “I guess she’s trying to rattle us.”

This showcases their understanding of who Laxus is as a person. They’ve followed him for years now, so they’re well aware of what he’s capable of, and more importantly, what he’s like, and what he tends to do.

The Thunder Legion is incredibly confident in Laxus. They trust him more than perhaps anyone else, and want more than anything else to protect him and keep him safe.

However, they are also well aware that they cannot control his actions. Especially after the stunt he pulled just before Tartaros. He gets hurt worst of all because he tends to insist on doing things on his own, whether it’s to prove himself, to enjoy a fight more, or because he wants to keep everyone safe. When the people he cares about are in danger, he jumps in to help, and sometimes pushes himself to the point of self-destruction. This is a trait that many mages in Fairy Tail share, and the Thunder Legion understands this.

But they trust him, and they trust him to know his limits.

When he stops them from interfering in his fight against Maiden Quartet, they listen. Their trust manifests as standing back while Laxus fights and waiting for a cue, or helping to mitigate the damage his fight causes on their surroundings. Laxus knows that all he needs to do is ask for help, or offer an invitation, and the Thunder Legion will be right there beside him.

Freed knows this, and he rebuts Weyse like so:

“We trust each other. If Laxus is fighting on the front lines, we’ve only got to run in and support him!”

Of course, Weyse twists his words around and hits them where it hurts:

“So what you’re saying is, he steps up to fight because you’re too weak to do it yourselves.” “You’re his bodyguards, aren’t you? Right? But something terrible is bound to happen to your precious Laxus, the way you guard him.”

Laxus fights because they can’t. Because they’re incapable of it. The Thunder Legion is a burden to him, an inconvenience, and holding him back from his true potential. He doesn’t need them, and he knows it; soon enough, they will stop being useful, and Laxus will leave them behind.

That’s what hurts them, that’s what spurs them to fight and protect the illusion of Laxus with everything they have—not just the concept of being weak, but the idea of being unneeded and abandoned by the person they care for the most.

“Laxus always steps up to fight…because we’re so weak!” “Even though we go around callin’ ourselves his bodyguards!!” “We’re just holding Laxus back!”

Unbeknownst to the Thunder Legion, though, Laxus has been going through his own development during Lightning Gods—namely, discovering just what kind of strength he can bring to his family in order to make them feel safe and protected.

When Laxus and the Thunder Legion join Blue Pegasus, they are confronted with a very different guild experience, in terms of jobs and the people around them. Being a Blue Pegasus member requires a different set of skills and strengths than Fairy Tail members are used to, and Laxus specifically has a difficult time adjusting. But as he’s floundering, he can see the Thunder Legion fitting in with the guild and taking to their tasks with ease.

“I don’t know…but you three are doing great.” “But I just recall how…Fairy Tail was full of people who’d understand me, even just through our fists and fights.”

This is played somewhat for comedy, as the Thunder Legion find Laxus’s awkwardness endearing. But Laxus is genuinely having a hard time wrapping his head around the way the guild operates and adjusting to it. More than that, he’s utterly baffled by the idea that someone like Ichiya could be so respected and adored when he is, compared to Laxus and the Thunder Legion, not all that strong or powerful.

He mentions that they shouldn’t go to assist him—since the others respect him so much, he assumes Ichiya must be strong enough to save himself:

“But he’s actually super powerful despite how he acts, right? So just wait for him to come back on his own.”

What others might see as abandonment is Laxus’s idea of trust—putting faith in another person’s ability to handle themselves, and not insulting their strength by rushing in to rescue them.

But the members of Blue Pegasus quickly correct him, bringing up the many weaknesses that Ichiya has that make him vulnerable. Laxus wonders if there’s anything good about him at all, and how someone with so many weaknesses—that are apparently common knowledge—could be so idolized by everyone around them.

Despite his overall reluctance to engage with the situation, Laxus goes to rescue Ichiya, on the basis that they’re from the same guild, and anyone who messes with guild members is an enemy—not because he looks up to Ichiya, something he quite vehemently denies.

In the process of rescuing him, though, Ichiya himself takes a blow from Laxus meant for his captor, and tells Laxus not to fight, “out of respect for his gorgeous face”. Laxus takes this as an insult.

“Is this a joke?! Huh?! We came here to rescue you, because you’d been kidnapped. And now this? Was this some game to you? And you want me to respect your face? You think you can mess with me and I’m just gonna take it?”

In his mind, if Ichiya is so respected, he must have been strong enough to escape this entire time, and waited until the most inopportune moment to do so. He interfered with the rescue attempt, made light of Laxus’s attempt to help, and wasted his time.

However, Ichiya replies:

“This was no game. And no one is messing with you. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” “I honestly didn’t think you four would be the first ones here. Fighting on a joyous day like this…would hardly be the classy thing to do! Let’s go home and open up some champagne.”

Laxus seems surprised by this, and remains in thoughtful silence for a long while, even all the way back to the guild. Ichiya approaches him, and Laxus finally admits:

“So, look. I don’t get you at all. You don’t stand out as some powerful dude…but look how much they all worship you.”

Ichiya responds that it’s because he’s good-looking, much to the irritation of Laxus. However, the Trimen speak up once Ichiya leaves, saying that’s his true strength. The Thunder Legion take the word strength to mean the same kind of power they see in Laxus; an insurmountable might that puts one above other people. Hibiki corrects them:

“He may seem unreliable to you. But…when the moment calls for it, he’ll even use his body to defuse a crisis, even without magic…and isn’t that another kind of strength? That’s our Ichiya. We can feel safe with him.”

It’s not about physical or magical strength. It’s his strength of character that the members of Blue Pegasus are drawn to; they trust that he is the type of person to do everything in his power to keep conflict from breaking out, even if it means bringing harm to something he prides himself on quite highly.

This sticks with Laxus.

When he and the Thunder Legion head out to the village of Rugosa for the request put forth by the priestess Weyse, Laxus wonders to himself just what sort of strength he brings to his family.

After Weyse begs them to help, and speaks rather tearfully about not wanting to lose her home, Laxus is immediately swayed to get serious about her cause. He makes an effort to destroy the Vesper Blockade Mirror, and goes to great lengths to defeat Nasser, whom Laxus believes is trying to destroy his own home—something that Laxus takes very personally, because he [mistakenly] sees his past self in Nasser.

“So your mission is more important than your home? That thought process…makes my blood boil!!”

Nasser asks him why he’s risking his life for this. Says it seems foolish, since this is just another quest for him. Laxus flashes back to the Battle of Fairy Tail.

“I’ve tried to destroy my own family…my guild…before. I thought I was doing it for the guild’s own good. But now I see that was a stupid, immature idea. And I’m pretty sure you’re gonna regret this, too!”

After Nasser’s defeat, the Thunder Legion destroy the Vesper Blockade Mirror, just as Laxus trusted them to do. And the demon God of Nightfall’s true identity is revealed. Nasser shares his side of the story and laments his inexperience, stating that despite being seen by the villagers as an outsider, Rugosa village is his only true home.

Laxus is immediately swayed to his cause, and vows to destroy the God of Nightfall. Nasser reprimands him, saying that it’s too dangerous, but Laxus insists—

“But if we do nothing, your home is gonna get destroyed.” “Look, no apology is ever gonna be enough for what happened. So let me protect your village. I have to…!!”

Nasser relents, and asks for his assistance in defending his home. But not before telling him:

“You lose sight of all around you the moment something important to you is involved, like one’s home or guild.” “Viewed in another light, I suppose some might call you stubbornly honest.”

The two of them rush back to the village to confront the God of Nightfall. Laxus goes to destroy it, but is blocked by the Thunder Legion’s attacks. Weyse reveals that the three of them see Laxus as the God of Nightfall and vice versa—this is quickly reinforced by their words, shouting that they’ll protect Laxus no matter what as they’re attacking him.

Then, of course—Laxus hears what they think. That they’re too weak to stand beside him, they’re holding him back, they can’t even do an adequate job of protecting him.

After snapping them out of the spell with his magic, Laxus tells them exactly how he feels, how he said he felt even in the midst of his fight with Nasser: he trusts them.

“Don’t be stupid, Thunder Legion!” “It’s only because I can trust you to have my back…that I can run forward to fight!”

He doesn’t say, you’re strong enough to stand beside me.

Instead, he tells them, I am only this strong because you’re here. Because you have my back. I could not have done any of this without you. I have faith in your abilities. I can trust you.

To have his back, to look out for him, and more than that, to understand him, when it seems like no one else can.

The three of them gather themselves, and step up to watch Laxus’s back, to assist him in fighting the God of Nightfall.

“It’s alright. The three of us…we will not falter!!” “Strength…weakness…the form it takes doesn’t matter. The desire to protect the people we care about is still the same.”

The God of Nightfall is defeated. Nasser returns to the village, having lost his magical power. The Thunder Legion lament this loss, saying that losing such strength seems like a waste, but Laxus seems to understand—it was worth it, if it means Nasser gets to return to his home.

The four of them leave Rugosa village, talking about Weyse’s betrayal and how impressive Laxus was during their fight. And, finally, they tell him what it is that he wants to hear:

“But you confirmed something for us.” “Thanks to you…we can rely on you and feel safe.”

His dedication to doing what’s right, to protecting other people’s homes and family, led him back to the village when he could have easily left everyone to wait for the Council instead. His strength and quick thinking saved the Thunder Legion from the God of Nightfall’s spell. His stubborn honesty snapped them out of their fear of failing him, of being too weak, of being left behind.

At last, Laxus says that he thinks he’s figured out a little bit about the strength that makes Ichiya so adored.

[marvelobsessed134]

Sundresses and breeding kinks

A/n: was too lazy to make a collage for this I’m sorry 😭

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: g!p Natasha, top!natasha, sub!reader, daddy kink, housewife kink, breeding kink, extremely rough sex, crying, degradation (sort of?)

Summary: Natasha breeds you. That’s it. That’s the summary.

It was a typical Saturday afternoon at the Romanoff household. You were cleaning the bathroom counters having been neglecting the task the whole week. It’s not your fault! Seems like your wife wants to be balls deep inside you every second!

But of course, the task was interrupted by a certain redhead. “Your ass looks so good from here baby.” She commented, her eyes shamelessly ogling you.

You rolled your eyes ever so slightly and turned around. “Nat, please let me continue cleaning. I haven’t been able to get things done all week!”

The assassin just chuckled lightly as she walked towards you, caressing your face. “Such a good little housewife huh?”

Your knees buckled. She knew how much you got turned on from being called her housewife. “I- um-“ and you were already stuttering. Great.

Natasha walked closer to you, backing your up against the counter, her bulge touching your crotch. “Is it such a crime I want to fuck my wife all the time? I just can’t get enough of her.”

“I love being fucked by you, Nat. But I can’t be a housewife if I don’t do any of my chores.” You chuckled.

“Right. Which is why you need a baby. We need a baby.” Your eyes widened at her words.

“A-a baby?” You asked. She began to grind against you. “Yes. I want to breed you, detka. Cum so deep inside you that you forget who you are for a few seconds.”

You bit your lip, your core began to heat up. “I’d love that, daddy.” The use of the nickname got her even more hard if that was even possible. She growled lowly and smashed her lips to yours, squeezing your breasts as she did so.

“So fucking pretty. All for me huh?” She asked with a teasing smile.

“All for you daddy.” You moaned. She easily picked you up and carried you out of the en-suite and into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed. Immediately she lifted your dress up and pulled down your panties.

“Such a pretty pussy.” She growled, before diving in and eating you out like a starved woman. You gripped her hair as she worked her tongue through your folds and up to your clit. You curled your toes as you got closer and closer to the edge.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. “Cum for me pretty girl.” Natasha spoke against your core sending vibrations throughout your body. You screamed as you squirted out you finish. Natasha groaned that that. She loves that you’re a squirter. Makes it ever the more fun.

“Fucking love when you squirt baby. Makes it so fucking hot.” She groaned. She then straight up ripped your dress off groaning at the fact that you were wearing no bra underneath.

“Naughty girl.” She snickered, groping your tits, burying her face in between them. “I love these tits.” She groaned.

You felt her cock touch the inside of your thigh and you shifted ever so slightly. “Hmm? You want this cock in your pussy? Want daddy to fill you up?” You nodded with tear filled eyes. “Please daddy.” You whispered.

The redhead entered you with such ease and groaned at the fact. She began the fuck you harder than she ever had before, gripping your hips with such intensity that was definitely going to leave bruises the next morning.

She rolled her eyes back as she fucked you. You were both a moaning mess.

Suddenly she stopped. “Turn over, grip onto the headboard so I can ruin you properly.” Her words sent a shiver down your spine and you quickly complied, gripping onto the headboard.

The Russian smacked your ass as she plunged back into you, gripping your hips again and pounding into you fast. Your vision was blurry and your tits were bouncing like crazy as her cock hit your velvety walls again and again.

The only sounds in the room were those of skin slapping, moans, grunts, and the headboard shaking against the wall.

“Daddy!!!!” You cried as you reached your second orgasm, tears streaming down your face due to how rough she was being. But you loved it.

As if she already knew she growled, “Cum around my cock baby. I’m gonna spill my load inside you in just a few seconds. Fuck!”

You clenched and her and your vision went white for a moment as you felt pure ecstasy. That mixed with the feeling of her warm cum painting your walls made you weak and you practically fell face first onto the pillow.

Natasha was catching her breath behind you and pulled out, laughing at how you fell. “Guess I fucked my girl a little too hard huh?”

“No, loved it daddy. Want it to happen again.” You muttered into the pillow and she surprisingly understood you.

[foreingersgod]

Let’s Stay Home (PT 2) . EE

pairing: emily engstler x reader

synopsis: see part 1

A/N: THIS IS ANOTHER POOR ATTEMPT OF ME WRITING SMUT, I APOLOGIZE FOR HOW BAD THIS IS LOL!!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

she was restless all night. you could tell from the way her hands shook when she poured your glass of wine and from the way her legs bounced under the table. her hands refused to leave the plushness of your thighs the entirety of dinner, strong and lengthy fingers scrunching at the fabric of your dress. you tired to act nonchalant about it, wanting to have a nice dinner with your girlfriend. but the more she kept dropping suggestive little comments and touching you discreetly, the more you tried to get out of that restaurant as quick as possible.

the wine turned sour and your meal became bland the more you had to endure emily’s torture. it didn’t sit right with you that you were the only one being taunted, so you decided to do a bit of teasing of your own. throughout the night, you’d do small things that you knew would get a rise out of her.

you started out with cluelessly playing with your hair, something that had her constantly distracted. then you’d purposely lean your elbows on the table which pushed out your cleavage ever so slightly. emily, sitting next to you at the table, would hardly be able to finish her sentence as the tops of your breasts came into view. it was almost becoming too easy at this point. then, to be extra cruel, you’d run the toe of your heel up her leg. it sent shivers up emily’s arms as she watched you do it, the end of your dress hiking up your leg as you moved your foot up and down. her mind kept reverting back to earlier that night, when you guided her hand across the intricate lace of your new lingerie. thoughts of ripping that dress right off of you replayed over and over, something she had every intention of doing.

she tried her best to seem unbothered, like you had done when she couldn’t keep her hands off you, but she was failing miserably. her hand would often find its way to her mouth, biting on her knuckles to ground herself. you had fucked her up beyond belief and you hadn’t even laid a finger on her. she was a mess for the remaining moments of dinner, couldn’t even take the last bite from her plate before she was hailing over the waiter and paying the check. although she was more than eager to get you back home, wanting to take off that stupid fucking dress that caused this whole thing in the first place, she kept her composure as she guided you out to the car.

“you’re a fuckin tease,” she said as the doors to the car shut, you were already doing up your seat belt “d’you know that?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, em” but you did. you knew exactly what she was referring too.

“you’re in for it when we get home” she implied, muttering under her breath.

“that attitude isn’t going to get you that surprise” you chimed, watching as her hands gripped the steering wheel suddenly “may i remind you?”

she said nothing, only shaking her head and jutting her tongue across the inside of her cheek. she did up her own seatbelt quickly before speeding out of the parking lot to get home. she didn’t now how much longer she could last.

you considered being a bit nicer for the car ride home, but something in you just couldn’t resist messing with emily a tiny bit more. she just looked too good over there in the drivers seat. her hands grasped the steering wheel, making her veins bulge ever so slightly as she drove. her blazer had been discarded to the back seat which left her in a plain white button up. the sleeves were rolled up to her elbow, displaying her toned muscles. she looked positively irresistible, there was no chance you were stopping any time soon.

you snaked your hand over the car console, fingertips lightly gliding over to emily’s thigh. your hand rested on her legs, positioned in dangerous territory. your touch hovered over where she needed you most. you felt her tense up, shifting in her seat and spreading her legs open more. you began to run your hand up and down her thigh painfully slow, making her jerk her hips into you. a satisfied smirk toyed at your lips as you kept your gaze on the road in front of you. you could feel her eyes shift to you and then the road then back to you again.

“i’m serious, ma” she croaked “stop teasing me”

“m’just tryna get you warmed up baby” you stated, stopping the motion of your hand with a gentle pat “relax”

she felt like all the air had been knocked out of her, words becoming caught in her throat before she could muster a response. a faint groan emitted from her lips when you continued the soothing movements of your hand. it was impossible for her to say anything the rest of the ride home, too busy imagining what she was going to do to you when you got inside.

the car pulled to an abrupt stop as emily pulled into the drive way. her buckle was undone in seconds, turning off the ignition and bolting to your side of the car. she opened your door, offering her hand to you to help you out. you smiled sweetly at her as you accepted it and followed her inside your shared home.

you weren’t able to turn the lights to kitchen on before you felt familiar hands on you waist, soft lips meeting with the skin of your neck. you could feel the tension between the two of you as you sighed deeply, reaching helplessly for the light switch.

“leave it” she demanded, pushing your hand away from the light switch as she guided you towards the stairs. she couldn’t wait another second to get you into bed.

“em,” you muttered, tilting your head to the side to allow her more access to kiss down your shoulder.

“cant wait to get you out of this fucking dress” she said as you approached the door of your bedroom “i believe i’m owed a surprise, am i not?”

once you had made it inside, you were instantly hit with the soft glow of the moonlight that flooded through the window. you turned around to face emily, admiring her features through the dimly lit room. she was breathtaking, hair pulled back, shirt already half way unbuttoned. she wasn’t lying-she really couldn’t wait.

“maybe…” you licked your lips, slipping off your heels and reaching behind you to undo the zipper of your gown “you’ll have to come and find out”

something in emily switched, like she was being granted something that she had been waiting for for centuries. in lighting speed, she had closed any space between the two of you, pulling you flush against her. her lips met with yours hungrily, tongue sliding into your mouth as you groaned deeply. the kisses were sloppy and wet, but certainly passionate. she reached behind you to push your hands away from the zipper, taking the liberty to do it herself. without pulling away from you, she delicately tugged the satin fabric down your body, letting it pool at your feet.

“hope you like it,” you smiled against her, moving your head back to allow her to view your stripped figure “picked it out just for you”

weeks ago, you’d purchased the most gorgeous set of lingerie as a small gift for yours and emily’s anniversary. it was a dainty little set, red and lacey and tight. the bra was strapless and quite sheer, adorned with thin lace flowers. the matching thong was similar in design, the crimson material hugging your ass in the most flattering way. you remembered trying it one when you had got home while emily was away at practice, you had never felt so beautiful in your life.

“oh my god” her gaze dropping as she took a step away from you. her jaw slacked, eyes blown wide with lust as she took you in “jesus fucking christ baby”

“is it ok?” you asked innocently, wanting to hear her say it aloud.

“is it ok?” she scoffed, shepherding you towards the bed. you felt the backs of your knees meet with the foot of the bed, making you stumble slightly “baby, it’s more than ok, you look fucking stunning”

with a tender nudge, she pushed you onto the bed, forcing you to sit on the linen duvet. you leaned back onto your elbows and spread your legs to make room for her. she moseyed in between your legs, unbuttoning the rest of her white button up in the process, eyeing you up and down. she shrugged off her shirt, now fumbling with the buckle of her belt and the clasp of her dress pants. you watched impatiently, wanting her hands on you as soon as possible.

her now naked figure hovered over you, knee slotting in between your legs. she leaned down far enough to where her lips were inches away from yours. you closed your eyes, whimpering as you bucked your hips to try and create friction between your clothed cunt and her bare thigh.

“em, please” you moaned.

“please what?” she smirked, hands planted on either side of your torso to keep her above you.

she moved away from your face, now shifting to kiss along the exposed parts of your body. her lips left messy kisses along your collarbone, then to the tops of your breasts where she left deep purple marks along your skin. she exhaled breathlessly as she reached your bra, staring at the way your nipples hardened through the thin lace. she brought a hand up behind you to unclasp the bra in one fell swoop, allowing the beautiful fabric to cascade down your chest. satisfied, she wrapped her lips around your nipple, her hand kneading at your other tit. you gasped at the sensation, your own hand finding its way to the back of her head. she switched to the other one, tongue swirling across the pebbled bud. but she only stopped when she heard you, your meek voice echoing off the walls.

“please touch me-don’t stop”

those three words were all she needed to hear, her gateway into complete bliss. she pushed off of the bed to kneel in front of you, hands gliding down the sides of your body until they reached the waistband of your panties.

“anything for you”

you looked down, eyebrows knit together in anticipation as you felt emily’s hot breathe against your core. she looked at you through hooded eyes, biting down on her lip as she took in such a beautiful sight: you laid on the bed, practically naked and begging for her to touch you. her fingers hooked under the band of your underwear and tugged gingerly.

“can i?” she asked. you nodded vigorously in return.

without hesitation, she began to pull your panties down your legs, tossing them to the side. the coolness of the air hits you quickly enticing a small jolt from you. emily ran her tongue over the top row of her teeth, leaning back on her heels to admire that state of your aching pussy. you were already soaked for her, arousal quite literally oozing from you, which most definitely left a noticeable spot on your underwear throughout dinner.

“so fucking pretty, this pussy” she cooed, giving your thighs a small massage before running a finger through your folds. you groaned, not content with her reservedness “this all f’me?”

“yea, em-all for you”

she placed various kisses to your inner thighs before turning her attention to where you had been pleading for her to touch. fingers spreading you open, you felt her tongue come into contact with you. she licked a deep stripe up your pussy, attaching her lips to your clit as she sucked slowly. you moaned loudly, fingernails finding her scalp and gripping the roots of her hair. she took this as a sign of endearment, slipping down to sink the length of her tongue in your throbbing hole.

“holy shit-” you cried, hearing the obscene noises emitting from your pussy. the way her tongue swirled in your wetness, provoking the wettest squelching noises that had you at a loss for words.

“that’s it, ma” she inserted a finger into you, feeling the way your body tensed upon the feeling. you tightened around her finger as you breathed loudly into the humid room “that’s my good fucking girl”

she watched as your back arched, perky tits pointed to the ceiling and your head digging farther back into the mattress. god you were unbelievable. she added another finger to you, making a small scissoring motion to lure you to your orgasm. she found herself moaning into you, completely lost in the taste of you. she didn’t think she could ever get enough of it, wishing she could lay between your legs forever. the pace of her fingers sped up and she could sense herself becoming increasingly wet the more you moaned out in intense pleasure. she was eating you out like it was her last meal, sucking and licking every inch of you until your body began to heave, insinuating you were getting close.

“oh baby, yes” you gripped the back of her head harder “don’t stop, em, i’m gonna-oh my-i’m gonna cum”

you humped her face vigorously, feeling your slick coating her mouth and chin. it was like you had no control of your body with the way your hips moved back and forth. you could feel your high approaching quickly as emily continued to devour you.

“i-i’m so close” your words began slurring together.

“i know” emily curled her fingers into you, hitting that delicious, spongy spot inside of you “i know”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, knowing the familiar feeling that was beginning to build up. her tongue and fingers kept their speed, making you overwhelmed with ecstasy. emily felt your legs starting to shake and noticed how your breathe became staggered.

“you got it,” she coaxed you “cum for me, come on, give it to me”

you let out a lewd and obscene moan as you reached your high, cumming on her face promptly. they approached near sobs as the pleasure washed over you, transcending your whole body. emily wasted no time in lapping up your juices, catching every last drop of your release. her tongue cleaned you up as you sunk into the bed, recovering from your orgasm.

emily got off of her knees and joined you on the bed as you scooted up to lay against the plush pillows. she laid next to you, bringing you into her bare chest, feeling the rapid beat of your heart. she raked her fingers through your hair as you smiled drowsily, still on cloud nine.

“you did so good, baby” she pressed her lips to the top of your head, grinning from ear to ear as she thought about how much she loved you “so so good”

you hummed in response, lifting your head to look at her. you returned her smile while drawing yourself away from her. ignoring the trembling of your legs, you hoisted yourself to straddle emily. she looked at you confused as her hands instinctively rested on the dips of your waist. what a vision you were, tall and proud and positively glistening in your own sweat.

“what’re you doing?”

long, nicely manicured nails left pinkish marks along emily’s skin as you trailed them up her stomach and over her chest. she squeezed her eyes shut when she felt your fingers gently scrape over her tits. she let out a faint ‘fuck’ as you advanced to her neck, wrapping around it and tightening your grip softly.

“don’t think i’m gonna let our anniversary end without returning the favor, em”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/N: this is cringy and bad and i’m so sorry lol :��)

[rs-hawk]

Kinkmas: Day Three

The Yeti

You’ve always hated camping. Actually, hating it is an understatement. You loathe it. Whoever invented camping can go get fucked, disrespectfully. However, when the rest of your Sorority Sisters beg you to go with them because they want to do “bonding” over Winter Break, you don’t feel like you have much of a choice. With a groan and constant complaining, you reluctantly go with them.

You all have your own tent, which you comment on how that really makes no sense if this is supposed to be a bonding thing, but they tell you even for bonding you need privacy. You’re annoyed, mad, cold, and now kind of scared as the night is coming and they put out the fire because no one is going to stay up with it. You want to offer to, but you’re also too scared to be out of the tent by yourself.

You have a fitful sleep, so when you hear a twig break outside, of course it wakes you up. Your mouth feels dry, and you’re shaking in your sleeping bag. Part of you wants to call out to see if it’s one of your Sisters, but you’re scared of the possibility that it’s not. So, you stay huddled in your sleeping bag, staring at the front of your tent, trying to make out any shape.

You feel relieved when you see that it does look like a humanoid figure. However, that doesn’t last long when you realize how large it is. Your mouth goes dry again, and tears prick your eyes. You purposefully picked the most secluded place. No one else should be out this far.

The figure makes its way to you, and before you could cry out, your tent is ripped open. Before you stands a giant creature with long, white hair, and a soft blue tint to its dark skin. You swallow hard when you see a large cock hanging between its-his- legs, and quiver when you notice it hardening as it regards you.

The creature grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and covering your mouth with one of his large hands. In a matter of moments, you’re far from the campsite, and approaching a cave. You start squirming, trying to escape the grasp of this thing, but to no avail. You get thrown down on a bed-like nest, your sleeping bag ripped off of your body as the creature shoved a finger down your throat.

You gag and drool around it as you try to push it away, but it’s no use. The creature rips off your clothing the same way he did your sleeping bag, and before you realize it, he shoves another of his large fingers inside of you.

You whine and squirm, trying to escape it. It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and him moving it impossibly slow is still painful. The finger in your mouth pushes deeper, making you audibly gag. That’s when the creature seems to take a bit of care with you. He takes his finger away from your mouth, letting you take deep, greedily breathes.

“Please,” you pant, trying to push his hand away from you. “Stop.”

Of course, he does no such thing. Instead he pushes you down, his fat tongue licking down your neck before he begins to lick and suck on your nipples. Unable to help yourself or stop it, you whine in pleasure. The creature, which you finally recognize as a Yeti from stories, seems to take this as encouragement. The finger inside of you quickens it’s pace as he licks and sucks on your nipples, using his other hand to hold you against him. Your slick finally makes it easier for him to move deeper inside of you.

You let out a chorus of repressed and reluctant moans as he moves inside of you and pleasures you. As much as you hate to admit it, it feels amazing. He starts making his way down your body again, and his large mouth is sucking on your clit. You yelp, bucking your hips against him.

Fuck. Oh fuck.

You groan and whine, panting again as you approach your orgasm. However, just as he’s about to put you over the edge, he stops. You’re about to move to finish it yourself when he buries his massive cock inside of you. A cry bubbles up from your throat as he stretches you impossibly wide, his cock bullying directly into your cervix. You can feel his precum leaking into you as if coating your womb for his cum. You start begging him to stop. It’s too much, but he either doesn’t understand you or doesn’t care.

He repeatedly bullies his cock into your cervix, ramming into you enough to show an imprint of his cock in your stomach. He flips you over, shoving your face into the nest and making him feel so large you feel like you’re going to be split in half. You’re still on the edge of your orgasm, despite all this, so when he starts playing with and teasing your clit, you cum almost instantly. You tighten around his cock, drawing it somehow deeper into you. You grunt and whine as you spasm around him, gripping the nest under you.

In only a matter of moments, he cums deep inside of you, pumping you full of thick ropes of cum. Enough that it spills out of you, but he doesn’t stop. He moans and growls, cramming his cock as far as he can inside of you. All you can do is lay there and take it, and hope that after this, he takes you back to camp.

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption | chapter 1

chapter 1. way down we go

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 10k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and share xoxoxox i'll confirm the release date of chapter 2 soon—this fic is a lot of work lol so in the meantime pls enjoy this longer chapter <3 and i used korean family names bc its a jimin fic and its hard to try and think of any other way that flows/to not use names, sorry not sorry, just imagine what you want xx

14th September 2003

“That’s it, good girl, Y/N—ow!” 

Your dad clutched his leg after a particularly hard roundhouse kick to his thigh. 

“Haha, well done, Y/N,” your granddad laughed from the side, clapping his hands in praise of you which motivated you to keep going. 

Going in for another front punch, you dodged your dad’s punches – which he pulled to avoid hurting you – and then you came in with a sharp jab to his ribs. 

“Ah, gosh, okay, okay,” he chuckled, taking a step back off the mat. “I think we should finish for the day, I’m gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow.”

“Was I good?” you asked, eager to hear your dad’s compliments as always. 

“You were amazing, dear,” your granddad said, stepping forward and ruffling your hair. “You remember what I told you, yes?”

“Yes,” you nodded, stating the next words like a mantra. “Self defence is a state of mind that begins with the belief you are worth defending.” It’s what your granddad had told you since you started training last year at the age of five.

“Still got it,” your dad smiled, kneeling down to help you pull off your shin guards. “You can show Jae-ho the combination tomorrow, but for now, let’s go get ready for dinner before your mom kills me.”

Beaming, you ripped your gloves off. “Can we go again before class tomorrow?”

“Of course we can,” your dad said, patting your back, and together you raced out of the summer room and back into the house, as your granddad followed leisurely behind you. 

“Mom, I learned a new combination today!” you beamed, climbing up onto the stool at the breakfast counter.

Your mom smiled at you, her apron covered in flour as she puts a tray into the oven. “That’s amazing sweetie, I’ll watch it tomorrow when Jae-ho comes over, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching over and taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

Taking off her apron, your mom walked around the counter towards you. “Ah, your hair is all sweaty, you must have been working really hard.” She took out your hair tie, combing through your hair with her fingers.

“Ow,” you grimaced, still munching on your apple. “It was really hot.”

She laughed. “I’m sure it was.” 

“There she is!” The sound of your grandma’s voice made you turn around. She smiled as she came towards you. “Let’s get you bathed before dinner.”

“Do I have to?” you grumbled.

Your grandma paused, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?” 

Laughing, you hopped off the stool and ran towards the door. “It’s you, grandma!”

“What?!” She laughed with mock surprise, looking at your mom. “Is it me?”

“Hm…” Your mom paused and played along, sniffing your grandma. “Nu-uh.” She looked at you. “I think it’s coming from our pretty princess over there.” 

“I thought so,” your grandma smiled, before she and your mom proceeded to chase you through the house while you ran down the corridors and laughed gleefully. As you jumped on your parents bed, trying to make a beeline for their bathroom door, your mom caught you, cuddling you and smothering you in kisses before you eventually had to have a bath. Your grandma styled your hair in a ponytail with a pretty headband of your choice. You chose a blue one to match your dress and together you made your way downstairs. 

As you entered the living room, your dad turned around and behind him stood a tall man with dark hair neatly slicked back. 

“Y/N, honey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” your dad said, smiling reassuringly as he took your hand. 

You’d met a lot of your dad’s friends and they all seemed nice. But this man was different. He didn’t look kind at all. As you approached, your attention was stolen by a boy standing close behind the man. He looked around your age, with brown hair and brown eyes. His cheeks were round and rosy which gave him a playful and friendly appearance, except for the unmistakable fact that he looked scared. 

“This is my friend, Jihoon, and his son, Jimin.”

At first you felt nervous, looking between your dad and the big stern looking man beside him. Glancing at your grandma, you eased up when she nudged you and smiled. 

“Why don’t you say hello, Y/N?” she said.

Your dad kneeled down as you looked up at the man. “You can say hello if you want, sweetie.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N,” the man said, his lips curving into what must’ve meant to have been a smile — you thought it made him look scarier. “I’m your uncle Jihoon.” He extended his hand. 

Timidly, you shook it. Then your gaze fell to the boy standing behind him.

“Jimin.” Jihoon’s voice was suddenly sharp as he summoned his son to come forward. 

Looking up at his father in what you could only interpret as fear, he took a few steps forward and stopped in front of you. “Hello, I’m Jimin,” he said quietly, putting his hand forward just like his father did. 

“Hi, Jimin,” you said, reaching for his hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

6 years later 17th July 2009

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, bringing in ample light to the summer room. Arranged messily on the table were pots of paint and brushes with a few complete canvases surrounding you as you worked. The canvas in front of you was a mix of vibrant colours, some careful strokes and others wild splashes you had crafted as you concentrated hard, your hand gripping the brush as you attempted to follow your father’s lead.

He had almost completed his piece, after many days working on it. A black sky tinged with deep hues of blue, and a single spear of lightning emerged through dark, swirling clouds, casting a pale, cold light reflecting off of the tempestuous sea of violent waves.

“Oh no,” you frowned, sitting back to get a better look at your work. “I ruined it.”

Your dad glanced over, smiling softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just different now, which is good.”

“But it doesn’t look how I wanted. It’s messy now.”

Your dad paused, getting up from his position in front of his much more professional easel to come and look at your work. Then, he dipped his brush in one of the colours you created and added a soft swirl, then another. You watched quietly as he added more.

“Things don’t always turn out how we want them to, sweetheart. That happens a lot in life. But you can always choose what to do next, even when things get messy.”

“What do you mean?”

Your dad set the paint brush down and sat on the chair next to you. Lines creased his forehead, his expression becoming sombre. It was something you’d been noticing more over the past few years.  

“Y/N, there will be times when everything around us feels messy or wrong — like people are not being kind, or things not going how we planned. You can’t always change that. But what you can control is how you act, even when everything feels hard. Being a good person means doing the right thing, even when the world around you isn’t.”

You frowned, thinking hard. “But what if people are mean, or if bad things happen? How do I be good when that’s happening?”

Your dad smiled warmly. “It’s like painting. Sometimes, you’ll have dark colors, or you’ll make a mistake. But you get to decide what comes next. You can add light, bring in something beautiful, even if the first stroke didn’t go how you wanted. You don’t have to paint what’s around you—you can paint what’s in here.” Gently, he tapped your chest over your heart.

Looking down, you began to understand. “So… even if everything’s messy, I can still make something pretty?”

“Exactly. You can always choose to do the right thing, to be kind, to help someone, even if others aren’t. It’s not always easy, but that’s what makes it important. Being a good person isn’t about waiting for things to be perfect, it’s about being good, even when things aren’t.”

You nodded, picking up your paintbrush and adding a swirl of your own. “Like this?”

With a grin, your dad nodded. “That’s perfect. You see? No matter how dark or messy things seem, you can always choose to make it better.”

“I want to do that, dad. I want to make things better, like you do.”

Your dad smiled, pulling you into a hug. “You already do, sweetheart.” 

You hugged him back, smiling when you felt him kiss the top of your head. Pulling away, you hopped off the chair. “What about yours? Is it finished?”

“I think so.”

“Lightning…  is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel. 

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint. 

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

You looked at your dad and noticed he looked sad. “Are you not friends anymore?”

He shook his head, a smile returning. “We are. Dad’s just being silly.” He patted your shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s go have dinner. All this painting has made me hungry.”

Dinner passed peacefully that night with your parents and grandparents conversing as they always did, and you spent most of the time poking your mom’s belly to try to get your growing baby brother to respond. 

Then, as soon as your dad finished eating, he got a text. Everyone on the dinner table went quiet and for a moment, you were forgotten.

“It’s Han-jae,” your dad said quietly. “He’s asked to see me.”

Your granddad exhaled slowly and you saw how your mothers hand tensed around her fork. 

“I told you not to get involved,” she murmured, looking at your dad with worry. 

He reached for her hand, caressing it gently. “I had to, love, you know that.”

“Why you?” she implored, almost desperately. “Why couldn’t you ask someone else.”

“I don’t know who to trust right now, Jihoon hasn’t been himself lately.”

“Jihoon is the same as always, he’s a cold man,” your mother answered.

“Sae-yi is right. Jihoon has always been a heartless person.”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t trust him with this."

“Then don’t." Your mom took your fathers hands in both of hers. “But do you have to go?”

Your dads face gave her the answer and she sighed, grip loosening on his hand.

“Honey,” he whispered, closing his hand around hers firmly again and leaning in. “I’ll have my men with me, we’ll be back within an hour, I promise.” Smiling, he kissed her on the lips. “I’ve known Han-jae almost all my life, nothing’s going to happen.”

Your mother’s worried expression didn’t falter. “He’s the one who’s changed. I don’t trust him, not after what he was going to do to Jiyoung.” 

“I know,” your dad said, moving his hand in to hold your mom's cheek. “And that’s why I can’t let him know anything’s up, Ji-young isn’t safely out of the country yet so I should go.”

Leaning into his touch, your mom sighed. “Your heart's too big for this world, Sehun.”

Your dad smiled, pressing his forehead against hers and placing his hand on her swollen tummy. “It’s just big enough for you and my beautiful family.” He looked across at you sitting beside your mother and took your hand too, kissing it softly. “Look after your mama while I’m away, and we’ll have some dessert when I get back, okay?”

You nodded, confused yet reassured by your father’s smile. Nodding back, your dad kissed your mother once more before saying goodbye to your grandparents too. Your mom and granddad walked him out while your grandma stayed with you and made you finish your dinner.

The first half hour passed as normal. You stayed sitting with your grandma while your mom and granddad spoke privately in the kitchen. That was nothing new to you, you’d grown up with the adults having many private conversations out of earshot, so nothing felt off… until another fifteen minutes later.

Your mom wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, her phone in her hand. “Neither of them are replying to my texts. He always replies, always.” You could hear the panic in her voice, the slight tremor that shook you deeply inside.

Then your grandma had the maid get you ready for bed, and you couldn’t hear what the grown-ups were whispering anymore. You were used to being sent to bed like this so you did what you always did — you sat by your bedroom window to watch the blacked out cars that usually come and go in the driveway. Except this time there weren’t any cars so instead you clambered on to your bed to read a book while you waited for your dad. 

As you grew bored, you remembered your dad promised to be back within the hour… glancing at the clock in your room, you realised he was late. 26 minutes late. 

A pit of worry grew in your stomach and you wished to be near your mom, so you got out of bed and walked to the door, your favourite book in your hand as you hoped to read to your little brother like you’d done so many times before.

Clutching it tightly, you walked out of your room towards the staircase, and then you heard it —  your mothers heart wrenching scream. 

At that moment, you knew your dad wasn’t going to be coming back home. 

present day

“One cappuccino please, and a croissant too.”

Without looking up from where you’re still folding the tea towels, you respond to the customer. “To eat in or takeaway?”

“Eat in.”

“Coming right up.” You fold the last one, patting it down before turning to face the customer. “That’ll be 9000 won plea– oh.” You pause, looking at the man behind the counter. “Hello again.”

“Hi, Y/N.” He smiles warmly, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his black trenchcoat. 

“Ah, you remember my name.”

“And you don’t remember mine,” he grins, nodding his head when you wince apologetically. “Seojun.”

“Seojun,” you repeat. “I’ll remember that now, I promise.”

He chuckles, placing a 50000 won note on the counter. “Don’t sweat it. And keep the change,” he says, turning around to seat himself at the closest table.

You pick it up, shaking your head. “Again?”

He folds his coat over the empty chair beside him before smoothing down the lapels of his suit jacket. “Yes, and don’t try to give me an extra muffin to make up for it.”

You deposit the bill into the till and put the change in the tip jar. Glancing at him, you see him looking over his shoulder out the window. “Did you at least like it?”

Seojun turns back and smiles. “Nope.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just being honest, I’m not a fan of blueberries,” he shrugs. “If you’re gonna give me anything, I'll take another coffee to go, iced americano this time.”

“Hmph, whatever,” you mumble, getting to work on his cappuccino. “I worked on that muffin recipe for weeks.”

“Try less baking powder maybe?” You shoot him a look when he says this and he puts his hands up defensively. “Or not.”

“Maybe if you weren’t tipping so much, I wouldn’t have to give you a muffin,” you say, steaming the milk for his drink.

“There’s a jar there for a reason,” he points out, nodding to the tip jar on the counter which you’ve kept there for your younger employees on top of the generous wage you pay them.

“Fair.” You finish preparing his cappuccino and plate up the croissant, walking over to his table. “Just don’t diss my muffins.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, doing little to hide the amusement in his voice. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes, smiling as you place his order down. “Here.” 

“Sit with me,” he says, kicking the seat out from in front of him. 

Pausing, you look at the only other occupied table. They seem fine, so you take Seojun’s offer, getting yourself a muffin and slipping into the seat while he looks over his shoulder again.

“Expecting someone?” you ask, breaking off a piece. 

“Hm?” He faces forward again, quickly shaking off the serious expression on his face. “Oh, no.” Smiling, he takes a sip of his coffee.

“How’s your girlfriend?” you ask, remembering the last conversation you had with him in which he told you all about his plans to surprise his girlfriend with a handcrafted bracelet made by himself. Apparently the diamonds from Tiffany’s just don’t feel special to him anymore. 

You smiled when he said that to you – it reminded you of your dad. It was easy enough to walk into a store and order the most expensive jewels, so he preferred to pour his time and effort into surprising your mom with paintings. He was good at it too, something you’ve grown to be envious of since you can’t say he passed the same talent to you.

Seojun smiles. “She’s good. Loved the bracelet.”

This makes you smile. “I’m glad.”

“How’s your grandma?”

“She’s great,” you nod. The last conversation you had with Seojun, was actually also the first. He walked into the cafe last week and immediately started a conversation with you. At first, you were slightly wary, but you’re always cautious so you went along with it. He’s a nice guy, and truthfully, you were glad for a change from all the college gossip you were used to hearing from your younger employees. They have a lot of drama, some of which bores you. 

Speaking with Seojun just seems familiar, like speaking with an old friend. 

“How’s her gallery?”

“Busy. She barely even calls me these days.”

Seojun chuckles. “Maybe you should visit her, I’m sure she’d like it.” 

At this, you pause, smiling. “I should. It’s been a while since I've seen her.” Your fork pokes aimlessly at the muffin. “I’ve just been a bit busy.”

“With the cafe?”

“Huh?” You look at Seojun, only to catch him looking back towards you just in time. That’s the third time he’s looked over his shoulder.

“I asked if you’re busy with the cafe,” he repeats, quickly looking down to take a bite of his croissant.

“Well, yeah,” you lie, also looking down. It’s a simple answer when the truth is more complicated. 

Seojun looks at you, eyes slightly rounded in concern. “It might be a good idea to take a break, no? Get out of Seoul and stay with her for a while.” 

This gives you pause, and you stare at him. “I don’t think I'll be leaving Seoul for a while,” you answer, watching him carefully. 

But before he can respond, you’re interrupted by your phone ringing in your back pocket. Pulling it out, you see your grandma is calling. Glancing up at Seojun, he’s now looking down at his half empty cup while tensely rubbing his thumb against the side of his tight fist.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, getting up and answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N, sweetheart?”

You frown, immediately hearing something off in her tone. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Seojun looking through his suit pockets for something. You face forward again. “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay? You don’t normally call this early.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the phone as you hear your grandma let out a small sigh. “I’m well,” she says. “I just needed to make sure you’re fine.”

“I am, but you already know that,” you remind her. “I called you this morning.”

“I know.” There’s another soft silence.

“Did something happen?” you ask, an uncertain feeling brewing in your chest. Your grandma has never had any reason to call like this before. Maybe if she knew of the midnight runs you frequently went on, she would, but as it happens, she doesn’t. You’ve made sure of that by having Yoongi promise to keep it from her, and his own father, Min Hyun-tae who is the closest confidante of your grandma.

Eventually, she answers. “I heard there’s been some trouble with the Cheong’s and… ah, never mind. I was just worried.”

You frown – Yoongi should’ve told you this too. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t worry about it, just stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Moni, what is it–”

“Y/N,” she interrupts, her voice suddenly stern. “Whatever it is, it’ll pass over in a few days.”

Holding your tongue, you exhale heavily through your nose. You know your grandma is only this protective of you to keep you safe and she has every reason to worry, which makes it harder that you have to lie to her so often. 

“Okay. Promise me you’ll stay safe too.”

Your grandma chuckles. “I’m living a quiet life here in Namwon, dear. Don’t worry about me.”

She’s safe, you remind yourself. Away from the memories and danger here in Seoul. “Okay, I love you,” you say softly.

“I love you too. Bye now.”

Ending the call, you can’t ignore the feeling that remains in your chest, and when you turn around, you’re surprised to see that Seojun has gone. All that’s left on the table is the dishes and his receipt. Drawing closer, you see he’s scribbled something on the back of it: She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. 

In the two conversations you’ve had with Seojun, you haven’t once mentioned any other family member, and he never asked, yet he seems to know that it’s just you and her left…

Suddenly, it occurs to you that maybe Seojun knows who you are. 

After your father was killed, your granddad went to great lengths to protect the rest of you, which included keeping your family information strictly secure – even now if you were to go down to a police station, they would have trouble finding much information on you except what you want them to know. Only someone who knows your family could know that it’s just you and her, because your mother’s medical records of her death following her cardiac arrest during early labour are completely unobtainable, as are your granddad’s after his pneumonia.

Looking out of the cafe window, you scan the streets and see no sign of Seojun anywhere. 

You need to call Yoongi. That’s the first thing you need to do and after that, you’ll look into Seojun. Your conversation with him and your grandma is still playing on your mind, even now as you rush down the streets to get to your car. 

As you brush past people, you accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, looking towards the face of the guy you just bumped into.

He smiles, shaking his head as he pats your arm. “Don’t worry.”

Pursing your lips, you nod and smile before resuming your walk. Another twenty minutes later, you’re pulling up towards the gate of your home. Although it’s a modest sized house (still slightly larger than the average), your grandma insisted on your extra security.  

“Good evening, miss,” your guard, Dani, calls out, smiling and waving as she opens the gate from her station.

“Hey, Dani,” you smile, slowing the car down next to her to talk through the window. “Anything today?”

She jumps up onto the ledge, shaking her head. “Nope. A camera around the back picked up some movement just a little while ago but Siho checked it out, was nothing...”

You’re barely paying attention to her as your mind still wanders on Seojun.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you look at her, slightly startled.

Dani smiles. “Long day?”

“Something like that.” 

Her expression softens. “Make sure you eat well tonight, hm?”

“I will,” you nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Sure.” She waves you on as you drive further onto your property, parking in the driveway.

Dani and Siho are the guards you employed when your grandma told you to. They both have a past in the military but retired early for whatever reason (they don’t talk about it much and you don’t ask). In truth, you’re very grateful to them – some nights it’s easier to sleep knowing they’re helping to look out for you.

Grabbing your purse from the passenger seat, you get out of your car and walk towards the house. 

Everything seems normal as you unlock the front door, entering the wide hallway downstairs – you have no reason to notice the drops of blood by the kitchen door – so you take your shoes off and hang your coat and bag in the cloakroom as you normally would before heading upstairs to your bedroom. 

But when you get to the top, you halt, noticing something. Far less obvious than droplets of blood, it’s the sight of your bedroom door left slightly open. You always close your bedroom door. It’s just a habit you’ve always had to close the door when you leave…

Immediately, your senses become more alert, your ears perking up for any noise in the house.  It’s odd, you don’t understand how anyone could’ve gotten into the house as long as Dani and Siho have been guarding the house. Unless, thinking back on the day, you know you have good reason to be on alert.

So you tread silently towards your room, kicking it open and—

Nothing. Your room is exactly as you left it this morning. You relax after checking a few possible hiding spots and finding them empty. But still, you know to be more cautious than this, so you take the handgun from the drawer in your nightstand and check all the other rooms. 

The metal feels light in your hand, even though you’ve never actually used this particular gun since Hyun-tae gave it to you on the night of the only break-in at the home in Namwon. You were only sixteen, wide-eyed and terrified when he told you to stay with your grandma and not come out until he came back. 

The gun was a last resort, of course you knew that the many men guarding the house would intercept whoever was threatening what was left of your family, but even then, it made you feel safer, more sure of yourself. Just as it does now while you walk through your house, alert for any movements.

Your body freezes as you spot the droplets of blood on the floor. 

Now that’s not your blood.

Muscle memory takes over as your thumb moves to cock the gun. Your heart beats harder in your chest, every sense on high alert as you silently stand behind the kitchen door. 

Holding your breath, you can make out the quiet sounds of heavy, laboured breathing… you inch slowly towards the edge as far as you can to peer in and see no one from where you are. 

Exhaling slowly, you count down to three before stepping into the kitchen, gun aimed as you quickly scan the kitchen and then you see the intruder, the aim of your gun following your sight.

Collapsed on the floor against your kitchen wall, a tall man holds his hand against his chest where a deep red stain spoils the white shirt of his suit. He looks up at you, face desperate yet determined.

“Don’t shoot, it’s me.”

Flicking on your kitchen light, you stare at him for a second until you recognise him… “Seojun?” A knot of uncertainty and fear tightens in the pit of your stomach.

Immediately you uncock your gun, rushing over to him. “What happened? Why are you here?” You reach for his wound to apply pressure but his bloodied hand closes around yours, stopping you. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Looking up, you meet his gaze and the fear in his expression sends shivers down your spine despite you being confused. “Let me help you,” you say shakily, hands moving to his wound again.

Seojun weakly shakes his head, trying to reach for your arm again. “No, Y/N, you need to leave,” he says, voice firm despite his severe injury.

“You need an ambulance,” you say, ignoring the slight tremble of your hands. “I’ll call an ambu—”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling on your hand again before crying out quickly from the quick movement. “Your guards,” he breathes, “they’ll keep you safe, Jimin will keep you safe, you need to go.”

The sound of him in pain sends panic rushing through you and yet he still seems adamant about what he’s saying. “W-what are you talking about?” your voice is still shaky as you ignore the firm hold of his hand on your wrist to keep pressure on him.

Seojun cries out quietly again but still fumbles for something in his suit jacket pocket. He pulls out a small black flash drive, thrusting it into your chest. “Give this to Jimin, tell him to use it.”

Eyes wide, you take the flash drive from him and slip it into your back jean pocket.

“You can’t let anyone else get it,” he continues, breathing hard as he winces in pain. “No one except him.”

“Okay,” you nod, squeezing his palm gently to reassure him although your mind is still stuck on trying to process the bleeding man in your kitchen to even take in what he’s saying. “I promise, now let me call you an ambulance—”

“There’s no time, I’m sorry, they’re coming,” he says, desperately now. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“Seojun, what—“

The sound of a window being smashed at the front of your house cuts the words off in your throat and Seojun’s hand tightens around your wrist. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice firmer and louder than before. “Go.” 

You look back at him, heart pounding frantically in your chest as you hear multiple voices coming from somewhere in your house. Seojun starts to stand up, using you to help him. 

He’s leaning against the wall, the fatal wound to his chest forgotten as he pulls his gun out and grasps you tightly around the arm. “Now.”

The voices outside get louder, and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to listen to Seojun – you need to go. 

Closing your fingers around your own gun again, you nod, pushing down the part of you that wants to stay with Seojun. He’s injured and you know if he doesn’t get help now he’s going to bleed out. However, you also know a fatal wound when you see one, and so does Seojun.

He’s filling the barrel of his gun with bullets as the voices get louder and you know that he’s about to buy you the time you need to get away. Because of that, you do as he asks.

Blinking back tears, you step away from him and towards the back door of the kitchen while cocking your gun again. Before you even get there, the kitchen window is being smashed in and you coil instinctively to avoid the flying shards of glass.

From somewhere behind you, you hear Seojun yell your name but you’re now focused on the man who’s standing ahead of you with a hammer in his hand. Gun raised, you shoot at him but he darts sideways before swinging his arm towards you with the hammer.

He misses you by an inch as you duck and aim your gun at him again. But before you can shoot, he grabs the gun and tugs hard, pulling you into his body. With a loud grunt, he raises the hammer and gets ready to take another swing at you, except the sound of three shots firing pierce the air and his body falls to the floor beside you.

Head turning around wildly, you see Seojun still leaning against the wall with his gun aimed towards you. He just saved your life. Before you can even get the words out to thank him, two more men jump through the kitchen window and the voices from out in the hallway show their  faces.

There’s half a dozen of them in total and you have no way out now. Seojun pulls on your hand to keep you close to him and it dawns on you now that this isn’t like anything you’re used to – these men are trained fighters, not just some lousy guards put out to watch a warehouse or defend a shipment of weapons. You’ve trained since a young age too, so you know you could at least fight them one on one, but this is different. These men are dangerous and you have no doubt that they’re the ones who put the fatal bullet into Seojun.

As you look around at them, you find yourself staring at one of them… he looks familiar and it suddenly returns to you that he’s the man who bumped into you outside your cafe–

“Y/N,” Seojun whispers harshly, “help is coming so run as soon as you get the chance, okay?”

You nod subtly, watching as the men part for one of them, undoubtedly their leader, to step closer. He’s a tall man, butch and quite frankly, frightening. His eyes are focused on Seojun and his upper lip curls as he sneers.

 “...All of that, for nothing.” His voice is emotionless and laced with wickedness, as he seems to delight in seeing life leaving the once healthy body in front of him.

“Oh shut up, Minjun,” Seojun gets out breathlessly, grimacing in pain as he does. 

Minjun laughs hollowly, coming closer still. “I’d love to see Park’s reaction to this, his favourite little pup won’t be crawling back to him tonight.”

Your hand tightens around your pistol but you remain still – even you aren’t stupid enough to think you can shoot this man without receiving multiple bullets in return.

“Just shoot me then,” Seojun mutters, shifting on his feet as he struggles to stay standing.

Minjun scoffs amusedly. “Not just yet. I’ve got questions for you first…” He looks your way and an icy shiver runs down your spine. “Who’s this?”

“I don’t know, this is the first house I found for shelter,” Seojun answers, his voice laced with desperation. “Just take me, she’s innocent.” 

Minjun pauses, his eyes lowering to the gun in your hand. “Innocent?” 

“Yes, she knows nothing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Minjun says as he walks forward again, closing the distance.

“Minjun,” Seojun says, voice raised. “I’m here, I know everything you want to know, not her–”

As though an invisible fuse has been cut, Minjun loses his temper and throws a heavy punch to Seojun’s jaw, flooring him instantly. 

“Seojun,” you gasp, kneeling beside him as a raspy groan escapes him. Fear travels through your body in waves as you see blood beginning to pool out from beside him.

When you meet his gaze, there’s a distant glassiness to his eyes which stand out against his pale, clammy skin. 

You’ve been in plenty of fist fights before, you’ve been in real danger and have had to fight your way out of it, but this – being someone you care about – this is something entirely new to you and for the first time in a long time, you’re frightened. 

“She knows nothing, hm?” Minjun scoffs. “She clearly knows you.”

Reaching out for Seojun’s hand, you look at the man towering above you, ready to beg. “Please–”

“Y/N!” Siho’s familiar voice fills the air and you freeze.

She appears at the kitchen door, glock raised as she looks around wildly at all the men who are pointing their own right back at her. She clearly wasn’t expecting anything like this and her eyes find you and she looks at you fearfully. “What–”

“Siho, go,” your voice trembles as you call out to her, but it’s too late. Two shots pierce through the air and you watch as your friend drops dead to the floor in front of you. 

A hollowness fills your chest. “No,” you whisper, mindlessly releasing Seojun’s hand to move to her but before you can get anywhere, Minjun is kicking you hard in the chest and you get pushed back to the wall. Only now do you realise how hard you’re breathing, the shaky breaths causing your shoulders to rise as you feel your back sink against the wall. 

“Something you should know,” he says slowly, inspecting the shaft of his gun as he crouches in front of you almost mockingly after he just shot your friend, before he looks right at you. “I don't like being interrupted. Now, tell me who you are, and don’t lie.”

Minjun’s gaze is terrifying and intense; you can’t bring yourself to look at him so you close your eyes and turn your head away from him.

But he doesn’t take well to that so he draws his hand back and it lands on your face with a sharp sting.

Despite being afraid, you manage to turn your head towards him and goosebumps prickle your skin when he stares at you. 

His face is marred with deep lines and red marks, some fresh and some old. Half of one brow looks as though it’s been burnt off and his nose is so deformed it looks as though it has been broken over and over. 

“Answer me,” he growls with a piercing stare.

Before you can even answer, you hear the sound of a gun cocking next to you. Seojun has his gun aimed at Minjun but he’s lost too much blood, his mind disorientated as he tries to press the trigger.

“Ha!” Minjun laughs, effortlessly taking the gun free from his hand. “What an idiot.” He shakes his head, looking down at the gun before shrugging and pulling the trigger. 

“No!” you cry, body jerking backwards as you become paralysed at the sight of Seojun’s body going limp, his eyes becoming lifeless as his head rolls to the side and he moves no more. A choked sob escapes your throat but you don't even have a second to process it.

“Come here, darling.” Minjun places his hand on your shoulder gently. His other hand rests on your face and you shudder when you feel the callused thumb swipe the tears off your cheeks. “Look at me.” He speaks softly but you know better than to fall for that.

His finger hooks under your chin and he lifts your head up to make you look at him. When your eyes meet his, you freeze.

“Just tell me what you know, sweetheart, and we’ll let you go,” he coaxes, nodding his head with a malicious grin on his face. 

“I–I don’t know any-anything. Plea–“

Mjnjun’s fist crashes into your face as your body involuntarily jerks towards the floor. 

Pain sears through you, blinding you and all you can do is gasp from shock, feeling blood trickle down your skin. 

“I told you not to lie,” Minjun growls, dragging you up by your shoulders. You have no strength left to lift yourself or even try to resist, not that you would. 

“Now tell me, what do you know?” 

He shakes you violently as he speaks but you don’t respond, still adjusting to the pain which only worsens as the salty tears silently stream down your face. Now your breaths are uneven and with each draw, you feel more suffocated, unable to even think past the image of Seojun’s lifeless body. 

Your silence serves as an answer for Minjun. He punches you straight in the ribs and watches emotionless as you keel over in pain. A cry escapes you, though you don’t feel it – your mind feels like a completely separate entity from your body. 

So when you hear the sound of feet scuffling and Dani’s voice crying out your name, you can only stay hunched over on the floor.

“Caught her trying to contact someone, boss,” one of the men holding her says gruffly, tossing her phone to Minjun. 

Dani looks across the room, her eyes doubling back to where Siho lies dead in a pool of her own blood. You can see the fear and regret in her eyes as she meets your gaze. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.

You don’t have time to do anything before Minjun gives a curt nod in the direction of the door, and then she’s being dragged away from you by four guards needed to restrain her. Seconds later, a single shot sounds. 

It leaves you feeling numb, unable to do anything as Minjun drags you to your feet by your collar. 

“Two guards and this one…” he kicks Seojun. “You’re clearly someone. What’s your name?” he hisses, his patience clearly having run out long ago – the three dead bodies in your home prove that.

Words don’t leave your mouth and your gaze falls helplessly to Siho’s body. Tears well in your eyes and a harsh sob escapes from your throat.  

“Fucking useless,” Minjun muttters, pushing you against the wall. “Search her,” he commands one of his men beside him.

At this point, you don’t even remember the little device in your pocket. You’re simply numb from everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes and when your eyes land on Seojun’s body and his glassy orbs staring emptily at the floor, you just want to scream.

But you don’t. You physically can’t. 

Hands pat you down, starting along your arms, slipping inside your shirt to feel under your arms, around your back, groping your chest, all around your abdomen, and up and down your legs. You remain entirely helpless as they do so. 

Then they start searching your pockets.

… Your gaze moves to the door, where Dani lies outside.

First your cardigan pockets. Empty.

… Across from you is Siho, the glock she was going to use to save you resting ahead of her.

Then your front jeans pockets. Empty. 

… Your head turns, meeting the vacant gaze of Seojun – you feel your stomach flip and a spark of indignation catches in your throat. Subconsciously, your fists curl.

Then your back jeans pockets. A hand pulls out the small black device and he holds it up in front of him, directly between you and Minjun who raises his brow in mock amusement.

“What a pretty little liar you are?” he snickers, stepping closer to take the flash drive in his hands. 

You don’t respond, but collapse to the floor as the men let go of you. From fear? Exhaustion? Grief? You don’t know. 

Then Minjun comes towards you, pulling a small knife from his back pocket. “You just wasted my time, beautiful…” He grabs you by your throat and pulls you up to your feet. 

The feeling of his strong hand pressing into your larynx returns you to your senses as the real threat of being killed looms over you. 

Minjun trails the sharp edge of the knife along your cheek, down towards your neck. He leans forward and speaks low. “I don‘t take well to that…” The stench of him fills your nostrils, and the knife presses against your skin. One more glance at Seojun, and suddenly, you snap.

Your knee comes up hard and you grab a hold of Minjun’s wrist, yanking it back with all your strength to twist his body in front of you. 

“Sir!” 

The voices of his men shouting drown out his low groans as he now stands, disarmed and held in a tight lock in front of you. You're holding him by his arm twisted backwards around his back and your other hand grabs the gun at his waist, a SIG Sauer pistol – it feels secure in your hand and you press the barrel to Minjun’s head. Adrenaline starts to surge through you as your mind races, completely forgetting about Minjun’s other hand hanging free at his side.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot him,” you warn his men, backing up towards the window.  

Minjun chuckles a low chuckle. “Will you now?”

“Yes,” you answer through gritted teeth, moving back with him towards the back door. 

“Liar.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you hiss, anger swelling in your chest.

Minjun laughs again, coming to a stop despite your grip on him. “You think you’re smart, don’t you? I know you won’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” Fingers digging tightly into his skin, you drag his head back and shoot him straight in the calf. “You don’t know shit about me.”

Minjun falls to his knees, a string of swear words leaving his mouth and his weight pulls you down with him. “Your first mistake was fucking lying to me,” he heaves, fingers grabbing your jaw tightly. 

A sharp pain shoots down your wrist. You cry out as Minjun’s blade cuts through your skin, the gun almost dropping from your hand as you grab your bleeding wrist.

He tries to retrieve the gun, struggling to get back to his feet but you step back just in time.

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you right here,” Minjun snarls, facing you as he pushes away the guards who try to help him up. “But once Lee is done with you, I swear I’m going to fucki–“

Bang. 

“FUCK!” Minjun staggers, falling backwards with his hand pressed against his shoulder, very close to his chest where blood spreads staining his white shirt crimson. 

Another shot sounds and one of Minjun’s men goes down. Then another, and another. 

“Park,” Minjun growls, pure rage flashing in his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Despite the two wounds to his shoulder and leg, he gets up and grabs a gun from the closest man. “What the fuck are you waiting for?!” he yells. “Shoot the bastards!”

Within a second, the air is filled with the sounds of shots firing and you drop to the ground, crawling as fast as you can out of the way. Their shots are returned from outside but the majority of your house is surrounded entirely by trees so you can’t see where they’re coming from. 

As you go, you spot the flash drive on the floor and Seojun’s face comes to mind. He died for whatever is on there. Reaching out, you grab the device without a second's hesitation. When you get behind the kitchen island, you quickly stuff the drive in your pocket. Pain still shoots down your arm and there’s blood dripping from you, staining the tiles. When you look up, you realise there’s blood everywhere.

“Show me your fucking face, Park!” Minjun rages, shooting all over the place, but he’s also bleeding heavily now, the front of his shirt rapidly being dyed red. His men are dying all around him as they shoot aimlessly out the window and you snatch a gun from the closest one, looking up just in time to see the last man fall. There’s only you and Minjun left.

He curses as the last man goes down, head whipping towards you. Drawing a pocket knife out from his waist, he lunges towards you but you slide backwards on the floor, aiming the gun at his head.

“Don’t,” you warn breathlessly.

His upper lip curls. “Fucking bitch.” He holds his gun up to you. “You’re useless to me.”

There’s no question that he’s about to shoot and you’re ready to do the same, but before that can happen, three men dressed in all black suits come barging into your kitchen and another two through the window. 

Minjun shouts in frustration, shooting at you which you narrowly avoid by sliding behind the kitchen island. As you go, you see the tallest of the three men disarm Minjun with ease. 

“You’re too late,” Minjun says, voice low as he turns around.

One of them steps forward, a man whose features look incredibly familiar to you. 

He aims his gun straight at Minjun’s head. The look on his face is fierce and his gaze is steady. “Where is he?”

Minjun laughs weakly, the energy slowly draining from his body. 

The man’s jaw tenses and he kicks Minjun's knee out from beneath him. His movements are sharp, agile — it’s clear to you that he’s done this many times before. 

Minjun falls to his knees, his laugh subsiding into a weak raspy breath. He looks up with no fear and no remorse. “I told you, you’re too late.” He looks in the direction of Seojun’s body, and the man’s gaze follows.

His mouth twitches and you can see the grief that fills his face as he stares at the body, but it only takes a few seconds for it to change into unmistakable anger. In a split second, his arm is raised and he shoots Minjun in his thigh.

At first, Minjun cries out, falling to his side as blood pools from him rapidly. Then he laughs remorselessly like a madman. “Which of your boys will be next, Park?”

Familiarity hits you there and then – Park Jimin. As you watch him step towards Minjun, you realise how different this man looks from the young boy you once played tag with in your home.

Jimin doesn’t miss his mark as he throws a hard punch across Minjun’s face, nor does he wait a second before punching him again… and again… and again. Your stomach turns as Minjun still laughs between each throw, almost taunting Jimin to keep going, even when he’s choking on his own blood. 

Gathering a fistful of hair, Jimin pulls Minjun’s head back and pulls out his gun. He holds it to his head.

Minjun coughs, blood spattering Jimin’s crisp white shirt. “Do it,” he rasps. “An eye for an eye, eh, Park?” Minjun chuckles, the sound getting lost as he coughs weakly again. 

Jimin however, goes incredibly still, gaze piercing into Minjun. 

“Your old man knew more than you ever will–” he coughs again, breaths slowing down– “it’s taking you too long to learn, boy. The Lee’s will come for every fucking person you care about, make you watch as they bleed out in front of ya,” he sneers, licking blood off his lips. “Then they’ll kill you like it’s nothing.”

Of the many emotions showing on Jimin’s face, fear isn’t one of them.

Unnervingly calm, Jimin speaks. “I’m not going to kill you.” Tracing the barrel of his gun down Minjun’s cheek, he pushes it under his throat. “No, that would be too easy.” 

Jimin holds out his gun and with immediate understanding, one of his men, with dark curls steps forward and takes the gun and place a small Gerber knife in his hand instead.

Grip tightening on on his hair, Jimin lifts the man and turns his head in the direction of Seojun, ignoring the grunts of pain from him. Looking away from Seojun, Jimin keeps Minjun’s head facing that way as he speaks.  “You don’t deserve an easy way out.” Slowly, he pushes the knife into Minjun’s shoulder and twists.

Minjun tries to keep down the pain but fails to do so, falling to his knees again.

“See?” Jimin looks down, eyes deadly focused on Minjun. “Just like this.” He twists deeper. “I’m going to cut you apart, and then piece you back together. And I’ll do it over and over.”

“Then what?” Minjun rasps.

Jimin pulls the knife out, throwing it to the floor in front of Minjun. Blood splatters on the tiles and Minjun’s head lowers. 

“You’ll see.”

With another wordless gesture, the two tallest men drag Minjun away somewhere and out of sight.

Once they’ve left, the room is silent aside from Jimin’s slow steady breaths. His gaze travels towards where Seojun’s body lies and you watch him carefully as he walks across the room, dropping his gun to the floor to kneel beside Seojun. 

Jimin’s expression softens and he gently takes Seojun’s hand into his own, and just like that, you’re reminded of the boy you once knew. He brings the back of Seojun’s palm to his mouth and he places a kiss on his skin. As he lowers his hand to rest over his chest, his round eyes water, but he blinks once and it’s gone. 

“Jimin.” One of his men, a tall, slender man with chestnut hair, calls his name. When Jimin looks at him, his gaze immediately lands on you.

You instinctively rise at the same time he does, raising the gun you hold in your hand. 

Yes, you knew Jimin once, but many years have passed and you’d be stupid not to be wary.

“Don’t come near me.” You swallow hard, having to press your back against the wall as you feel incredibly weak, but you can’t let this show.

Jimin says nothing as he takes a small step, eyes locking with yours and for a split second you almost lower your gun when you see something familiar in those brown eyes of his. 

Then one of his other men, a well built man with long dark curls held back in a bun, draws your attention. “Miss,” he says politely. “We just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help, just get out of my house.” Your voice tightens as you look at Siho’s body. You force your gaze away.

Jimin takes another step, watching you carefully. “You…” he murmurs, hesitating as a soft frown appears on his face before he shakes his head once. “Why did Seojun come here?” He asks, voice softer than when he spoke with Minjun, but the question is enough to anger you and you stare at him in bewilderment.

Pushing off the wall, you walk towards him and a loud click echoes in the room as you release the safety with your thumb.

In return, three guns are cocked and aimed at you. 

Jimin, however, doesn’t even blink. 

“Put the gun down, miss.” The same man addresses you calmly with his finger hovering over the trigger, glancing between Jimin and you. 

Now it’s you who doesn’t falter. “I don’t know why Seojun came here,” you say calmly, “and I don’t know who those men were. I’ve only ever spoken to him a few times and he never told me anything about himself. I know nothing.”

Admittedly, that’s a lie, but until you have more answers yourself, you’re not saying anything.

Jimin is quiet but his gaze is steady. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t,” you answer quietly. “But it’s my word or nothing.”

A beat of silence passes and it feels like an eternity. Your gun remains aimed at Jimin and his men hold theirs up to you, but you know they won’t shoot – there’s something sure in Jimin’s gaze as you both stand there in the middle of the room staring at each other, something that tells you you’re safe. 

He doesn’t say anything at all as he looks past the barrel of your gun to hold your gaze, and for a moment you wonder if he recognises you just like you’ve recognised him, but it can’t be. 

In the years since your father died, your grandma has done everything to protect you, including changing your surname and moving towns. Jimin, however, had a foot in the limelight for as long as his father was alive which is why you still manage to recognise the grown man before you. 

Just as you begin to feel a wave of weakness pass over you again, Jimin looks at the man closest to him, a broad man with jet black hair. With the smallest shake of his head, his men stand down.

You let out a slow breath, lowering your own gun as Jimin turns back to you. 

He looks down at your wrist and the smallest wrinkle appears between his brow. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine,” you mutter, hand closing over your throbbing wrist. 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

You almost huff impatiently. “It’s not all mine.”

Jimin pauses to look down at your thigh. “You need someone to look at that–now.”

Confused, your eyes follow and your stomach coils when you see a gash on your thigh, the blood darkening the denim of your jeans. You don’t even know when that happened.

Clenching your fists, you look back up. “I said I'll be fine.”

Contrary to your words, when you turn away a little too quickly, everything blurs and spins. Just as everything starts to go dark, you stumble backwards and Jimin is moving towards you. 

The last thing you feel is warm hands closing around you, lowering you gently to the ground.

note. thank you so much for reading! please share your thoughts with me and if you have any questions ask awayyy! (especially as it only gets more intense :) the action should take a bit of a break though as we’re introduced to and learn more about the characters 😋 (also writing action is hard 😭)

[slut4christopherr]

—GHOSTFACE— 👻

MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pics by : @sturnlsstuff

warnings: unprotected p in v(don’t do this!!!), riding, cumming, aftercare, smuttt, pussy eating

(if i missed any please lmk!!)

summary: matt sneaks into your room at night, wearing a ghost face costume from the horror/gore movie ‘scream’

what happens will make you wet.

a/n: ive only just started writing, so anything i need to improve please lmk and also comment if you wanna be added onto my taglist! i’m tagging my moots atm 😞 i hope you guys enjoy! this is a 1 part story‼️

you talking = white

matt talking = blue

as i finish the food i just made, i place my plate into the dishwasher and close the door, the audio from the tiktok i’d left playing.

“so you got a boyfriend?”

“why? you wanna ask me out on a date”

“maybe? so, do you have a boyfriend?”

i pick the phone back up, seeing matt sturniolo, the guy who adores eating my pussy, getting edited with clips of ghost face.

i couldn’t lie, it did turn me on.

i clicked the repost button and set my phone down on the couch.

i walked into my bedroom. swearing id shut the door as it was open a little bit but i’d must of imagine shutting it

i turn on the LED’s that wrap around my walls, to a red colour

as i’m about to get in bed, i scream as i feel a pair of cold, large hands wrap around my waist

“shh ma, don’t need t’be screamin’ jus’ yet”

i recognised the voice almost immediately

“matt. i told you to stop sneaking into my fucking house!”

matt chuckles as i turn around, he holds a voice changer upto his mouth through the mask, speaking into it, his voice came out all static and raspy

“and i said i don’t care, ma, so whatcha gon’ do? hm”

the way his voice came out from that stupid little box made my legs feel weaker and weaker every word he said

“and also, why the fuck you wearin’ that? take it off.”

he points at my t-shirt, his hands grip my shoulders ever so slightly and move me back toward my mattress, i flip down onto my back as he grips the hem of the t-shirt and rips it over my head.

i go to grab his mask and pull it up and over his head and throw it across the room, the black cape over him and his jawline, making him look so good in the dim red lighting of my LED’s

his eyes darken as he focuses on my breasts, one cold hand going to cup one into it.

he rolls my hard nipple around between his thumb&pointer finger which makes me let out a quiet moan

“mmm, i fuckin’ love the sounds you make for me ma”

his pants grow tighter by the minute and he groans and slaps my tit, making me squeal.

he gets onto his knees on the wooden floor, gripping my thighs and pulling me towards the end of the bed.

i look down at him as he looks up at me with hunger written all over him

his fingers hook into my shorts and panties, as he looks up at me again, asking for permission

i nod quickly and he pulls them down at a very, very slow pace

“matt, please.. please..”

you aren’t looking at him but you can tell he has that shit eating grin on his face

“use your words ma, what do you want?”

i let out a shaky sigh

“please matt, finger me”

matt slaps my thigh as he lets my shorts & panties pool at my ankles

he rubs a finger up my slit, groaning at how wet i already am

“m-matt, stop teasin’ baby”

he takes a deep breath before diving into my slick folds, his tongue diving into my head as his perfect nose applies pressure onto my sensitive clit

i let out a moan

“mmm fuck-fuck don’t stop!”

matt doesn’t stop, all that can be heard is my moans, his groans and the slurping sound of my pussy being eaten by a man who looks like he hasn’t eaten in days

i felt a knot form in my stomach

“matt i’m gon- oh fuck- i’m-“

my words get cut off my the knot snapping as he laps my clit with his tongue, making my hips buck into his face, pushing him deeper into my heat

5 mins later…

i bounce up and down on matts large, hard cock, i used the precum as lubricant, knowing you didn’t need to use it as my pussy was literally dripping wet.

matts slender fingers dug into my skin, making sure to leave bruises

the only sounds heard is the hum of the cars driving outside, skin against skin slapping and both of our moans

“mmm- ma, m’so close”

my pussy clenches around him in response as he grips my waist and pulls me down harder onto to him

i moan as the knot in my stomach snaps for the 2nd time, my juices running down matts cock.

i feel his balls tense and his cock twitch then, hot strings of white cum colour my walls

we stay like this for a minute, catching our breath until he pulls me off of him and gently puts me on the bed and stands up, walking to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth to clean me up

“your still not allowed to sneak into my house matt”

he grins in response

“yeah? sure ma”

a/n: tysm for reading! and this was so so rushed 😭 any ideas leave them in the comments

with lots of love and a fat ass - mia!

taglist: @sturnshood @sturniololuv08 @sturniolosweets-deactivated2025 @sturniolospumpkin @chr1sslvtt @christmastreecake @chrisprettybaby @chrissturniolodailysluts @chrisweetheart @mattscoquette @mattsmedusa @mattsstarlet @mattybsgroupie @sturnsrecord @mattsobvimyfav

[etotruski]

König’s Obsession

(Part 1) Part 2 (Part 3, Part 4)

Writers note: Thank you to everyone who read the first part of this series. It’s my first ever written fan fic. Feel free to comment your ideas on what I could do in the following part. Reuploads are highly appreciated. Thank you:

Warnings: The following parts may contain explicit content for adults.

Word count: 1,828

It’s been only two weeks and people at KorTac are giving you already the damn side eyes and disgusted looks. As if that wasn’t enough you thought your fucking Colonel might’ve obsessed with you because, eyes don’t lie.

It’s currently 6 in the morning. You should be ready for training at 8. You went into the canteen and were confused on why people looked at you as if you were the crustiest and ugliest rat known to human history.

Soon Ashley and a group of men surrounding her walked towards you when you were about to enter the canteen. That’s when you noticed that Ashley was wearing these kind of things you wear when your arms is broken or something, so it gets support. 

At this moment you were just more confused than in your final maths exam. She then pointed at you and said in a whiny, pity and over exaggerated tone.

“Guys that’s that hoe who broke my arm and fractured my ribs just because I accidentally made her trip.”

You couldn’t believe your ears by what you were hearing. She is completely catfishing and lying harder than Donald Trump did. You just stared at her, your anger already bubbling to a point you wanted to jump at her and actually break her arm and fracture her ribs. So instead of doing that you decided to handle it with words, because you didn’t wanna get ended up killed by your own Colonel.

“If your rips were fractured you wouldn’t be able to stand like that, you’d sit in a damn wheelchair-.” 

Before you could even continue, your words were cut off by one of these 5 men following her around.

“Want me to make you feel pain too?”

Another one said.

“How could you do something like that to an innocent woman?”

And then another one said.

“Yeah she’s right. She’s way smarter than you who couldn’t even finish school.”

At this point you were at your breaking point and your anger was like a bubble that could pop any second. The only smart thing you could do was snap back because you had enough.

“Try to make me feel pain. I’ll see you on the ground douche bag. And you saying she is an innocent woman? Innocent my ass, she made me trip on purpose because I didn’t let her skip before me in line. And you saying I was dumb and didn’t finish school, yeah? I have a bachelor you ugly rat, I was in the fucking Navi. So shut the fuck up.”

You said before turning around and leaving. One shouted back.

“Cat killer!”

At this point you understood why people gave you dirty looks. She set rumors off into the world probably as revenge, because of having to clean women and men toilets. 

‘Wow just wow’, you thought to yourself. ‘This had to happen at the start of my new career here. I thought I would have it better here. If this continues I will go back to the Navi and quit. But what the hell can I do against these rumors? I’m not even fucking hungry anymore. That butch Ashley.’

You just went back to your room and thought and thought and thought. ‘Always everything happens to me. Why does it have to be me after what happened to me in my past? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why.’

You couldn’t help but overthink and almost forgot about training. You practically ran when you saw the time: 7:58. You can’t afford to be late. You don’t want to be punished. Today you had to train sniping. 

You made it in time after running none stop to where König was. He looked at you surprised for looking a bit disheveled, before putting back his stoic persona. 

When the training began you first started it warm up and then you had to fight a little, which was unfair due to his size. When throwing you on the ground, his hands lingered on your wrists pinned to the side a tad bit too long, maybe you just imagined it. But when you started to train sniping he was right behind you and a little too close, which was crazy because it’s been only a damn week. So you didn’t think that this meant something. But his breath practically mingled on your neck trough the mask. This went on the whole training. The way too closeness than necessary and the breath on your neck which distracted you and made your shots a bit more inaccurate than usual.

Finally 8 hours of training were over, but when you thought you can go König stopped you, but not by his words, but by putting his hand on your shoulder while standing behind you. He said in his menacing voice.

“We need to talk. In my office. Now.”

So that’s how you found yourself in his office pinned by his eyes across from you.

“These rumors I heard about you, they’re ridiculous and I know they’re not true. Would you mind telling me who set them into the world?”

You shook your head, because snitching is not the right way.

“It’s ok. I already know who it is. You know that I can do something about it, but I want something in exchange.”

‘There is goes again. He probably wants to use me and my body as all the other men wanted.’ That’s whats you thought but then you were surprised.

“I want you to help me look after my sisters child. She and her husband are working hard and they even are often away in the weekend. I need help with that. I know nothing about kids.

You couldn’t believe your ears. He invited you to help him in exchange? Help looking after his sisters baby? So if that’s all he wanted you still were a bit frozen in mind. You couldn’t decline the offer because you didn’t want the rumors reach the higher up’s and make you potentially lose your job at KorTac. So the only logic thing you said after staring at him and he at you for minutes was:

“Ok. I can do that.”

“Give me your number so I can call you when to come. Not your number for KorTac but your real number.”

“My number is 7341********”

You said it without hesitating, because if that’s all it took to make him make the rumors somehow die down, then that’s a clear deal. But you couldn’t grasp the way your stomach told you, that that’s not the only reason he invited you to his actual home to help or ask for your real number. There was other meanings behind it. There must be, because your gut feeling was always right. 

But what was it?

**To be continued**

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 40

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,400ish

Summary: You and Logan struggle.

Warning(s): bars, drunk men, tears, heartbreak, seizures

Notes: Welp, this chapter was gonna be shorter and different, but y'all sent in some great ideas. I hope this chapter makes sense since I used the chapter I had already written and worked around it.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan was anxious as he pulled up to the diner the next day. He couldn’t see your car, which made his stomach tie up in knots. What if you actually walked away? He had kept telling you to, but then yesterday… he couldn’t lose you again. It might actually be the thing that killed him. Logan’s eyes scanned the diner as he entered, trying to find any sight of you.

“Excuse me,” Logan grumbled as he caught the attention of one of the other waitresses. “Is Y/N here?”

“Her shift starts in a few minutes,” the waitress responded. “Feel free to wait in a booth.”

“Thanks.”

Logan sat down at tapped the table as he looked out the window and waited for you. He felt some relief when he watched you pull up and enter the diner. You could feel Logan’s gaze on you, but you ignored it, quickly starting your shift. You didn’t go over there until Logan’s food was finished.

“Here,” you muttered, setting the food down. You kept your gaze down.

“Sweetheart,” Logan’s injured hand came up to your hand.

“I have to work, Logan. If you need something, we can talk after my shift.”

You turned away and went to help a rowdy truck driver at the counter. Logan kept his eyes on you, growing angrier by the second as the truck driver kept trying to put his hands on you.

“Hey, bitch,” the truck driver called, slapping your butt as you walked past.

Logan stood up and walked over, his whole world red. He grabbed the guy’s shirt and immediately punched him in the face.

“Logan!” You exclaimed, trying to pull him off the man. “Stop!”

Logan pulled the man closer to his face. “Don’t you ever disrespect a woman like that!” He then punched the driver again.

“Logan!” You went to grab his arm, but his elbow flew back into your face and hit your nose. Blood began gushing down you. You grabbed your nose to try to plug it. 

“That’s enough!” Your manager shouted. She glared at Logan and the driver. “Get out!”

Logan looked back at you, stomach dropping at the sight of blood on you. When did you get hurt? He didn’t remember that at all. Logan let go of the driver, causing the man to fall to the ground.

“Out!” Your manager repeated. Logan left the diner before the manager turned to you. “You’re fired.”

“What?” You questioned. “But I—“

“Keep luring that man in. I can’t ban him; he’s too dangerous, but I can ban you. Go.”

You grabbed your things and went out to your car, where Logan was waiting.

“Y/N,” he whispered, hands stuffed into his pockets to hide his own blood and bruising.

“Go away,” you muttered. You got into your car, slamming the door before driving off.

~~~

Logan dropped off the bachelor party at the bar and sat there in the limo. He knew he lost it today and that you needed an apology. Getting out, he was going to get to your motel when he saw you stumble out of the bar, hanging off of a man. You were giggling and touching the man, making Logan see red again. Without another thought, Logan was storming over there. He ripped the man off of you before you could kiss. 

“Hey!” The man exclaimed. “Watch it—“

“Run off,” Logan’s voice was gruff yet thick with anger. He lifted one of his fists and revealed his metal claws. The man scurried off.

“Are you going to sabotage all my jobs now?” You questioned, causing him to turn quickly toward you.

“What? What job?”

“Well, you got me fired from the diner, and I need money. The guy was going to pay well.”

Logan thought he was going to throw up. He had promised you a life away from this, yet here you were because of him. “There has to be another way.”

“What am I supposed to do? I need the money, and I don’t have a safe place… You won’t take me home—to your home… I have nothing.”

“But… you’re my wife,” Logan reached out to you, but you stepped away. “Just ask me, and I’ll help you.”

“I thought you said we weren’t even married, Logan. So, I’m not your wife…”

His heart was shattered. “I didn’t mean—“

“Just… let me walk away, Logan. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Logan felt frozen as you walked in the direction of your motel. He had caused this. It was all his fault. But how could he fix it without putting you in more danger?

~~~

The next morning, Logan woke up with a mission. He had to get to your motel. He had to convince you somehow to stay in town. He was stupid, stupid to think that pushing you away was protecting you. He would work more shifts or get another job just to keep you close. And to make sure that you were taken care of. Logan sped to the motel and rushed up to your door. Knocking on it, the door creaked open.

“Y/N?” He called, stepping inside. “Sweetheart?”

None of your belongings were there. It looked like you left in a rush. Logan ventured further into the room, checking for any sign of you. His eyes caught sight of the motel notepad on the desk, where your familiar handwriting sat. His hand trembled as he picked up the note. He moved it closer to his face and then away as he struggled to read it.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hating how his body was betraying him. 

Eventually, he found a spot that he could read it, if he squinted real hard.

Logan—Got kicked out of the motel. Apparently, they don’t enjoy long-term guests like me. I wish things were different.

Logan didn’t even know he was crying until a tear fell on your note. The dog tags and ring that sat against his chest felt like they were burning into him. A part of him wished that they would. That they’d burn right through to his heart. Keeping the note in his hand, Logan turned around and left the motel room. His eyes searched for any sign of your car, but it wasn’t there. You had left, just as he had wanted. But then why did he feel like he could just lay down and die? Like his heart had been ripped from his chest? You were right. This wasn’t protection to either of you. This just made things worse. And it was too late to fix it.

With a heavy sigh, Logan got into his limo and headed back to the smelting plant. He couldn’t work today. Not with his mind too caught up in you and the promises that he failed to keep.

~~~

It was dark, stuffy, and extremely bumpy. But you didn’t care, especially once you realized that Logan kept extra suit jackets and white shirts in the limo’s trunk. 

You knew that Logan would stop by; he was so predictable to you. That morning, you sold your stolen car and packed up your belongings. You waited patiently for Logan to show up at the motel and slipped into his trunk as he searched your room. If Logan wasn’t going to take you to where he was living, you’d just have to sneak there. Consequences be damned. You at least deserved a chance actually to say goodbye to Charles and to Logan.

Currently, you were in Logan’s trunk, wrapped up in one of his jackets, savoring the smell of him. It was something you missed. Just his woody, cigar, leathery scent. It was pure Logan.

You didn’t know how long you were in the car before Logan finally stopped and got out. As you waited, you began to grow nervous. What if you showing up like this was the last straw? What if he really didn’t want you?

“Don’t be silly, my dear,” Charles’ voice entered your mind. “Logan always wants you.”

“Charles?” You mentally responded.

“The coast is clear. I’m in the tank.”

You popped open the trunk and carefully slipped out. You shut it, leaving your belongings in there. Glancing around, you took in the abandoned smelting plant and the barely put-together tank next to it. There was a fence surrounding the place with a train track not too far from that. It was in the desert, the heat of the sun beating down on you. Nothing was around for miles. 

Tugging the jacket around you tighter, you quietly made your way to the tank. As you came up to the door, your heart sank as you realized that it was locked from the outside, clearly keeping Charles in. You entered and looked around. Charles was sitting in a wheelchair near a hospital bed. There was a chair and a small table with some plants scattered about. A fan was working overtime, trying to cool the thick, hot air. Charles smiled upon seeing you.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted.

You smiled back, trying not to worry too much about how it felt like he had aged too much since you last saw him. But the same could probably be said for you. “Hello, Charles.”

“I have missed you.” He wheeled himself over and held out his hand.

You took it. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Come. Sit.” Charles led you over to the chair. “I know that it’s been a hard year for you.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you either.”

“Alzheimer’s… That’s what I have. Seems to be an okay day today. Well, besides being stuck in this shit hole.”

You laughed. It wasn’t very often that you heard Charles swear. “Yeah, the whole place seems… nice.”

“That’s far too kind of a word. But it is better now that you’re here.”

“I don’t know if I can stay.” You shook your head. “I don’t know if Logan wants me here.”

“I don’t care what he wants. I want you here.”

“Charles—“

“Besides, that old grump yearns for you.” He tapped his head. “I know. Well, when I’m not full of those awful meds that they keep giving you.”

“They? Who else is here?”

Just then, the tank door opened, and a man walked in. He was carrying a tray of food and meds. He was tall and thin, all of his skin covered for protection from the sun. You jumped slightly and froze, not expecting anyone else here since Logan had been so adamant that you couldn’t be here for your safety. 

“What the— Who are you?” The man asked, closing the door and walking further in. He set the tray down on the table and pulled his goggles up onto his forehead, showing you that he was albino. 

“Caliban, this is Y/N,” Charles introduced.

“You’re Y/N.”

“I am,” you responded. “Who are you?”

“Logan found me. Offered me food, shelter, and protection in exchange for helping with Charles.”

“Oh.” You hated how much it stung that Logan would promise someone else that.

“Does he know you’re here?”

“No. I snuck over in the trunk of his limo. Please don’t tell him I’m here. I would like to do that.”

“Of course.”

“Y/N can help me with my meds today, Caliban,” Charles said. “You can go.”

Caliban nodded, stealing one last look at you before sliding his goggles back over his eyes and heading out. You walked over to the tray and brought it over to Charles, resting it across his lap.

“Now, Y/N,” Charles took a bite of his food, “tell me how it felt to beat Logan will some fire.”

~~~

Logan tipped the bottle of alcohol up, the liquid burning down his throat. Due to his dwindling healing abilities, Logan had started to feel the effects of alcohol more than he ever had before. But it did nothing to make him forget about you. Your smokey scent. The way your skin felt under his rough, calloused hands. The warmth that radiated off of you. Your eyes and your smile. 

He set the bottle down on the table as Caliban came back into the smelting plant. Logan’s thick brows furrowed as he watched Caliban unwrap his skin.

“Did you make sure he swallowed?” Logan questioned, thinking that Caliban hadn’t been in the tank long enough.

“He swallowed,” Caliban replied.

Logan scoffed. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Well, it might be because you’re tired.”

Logan groaned as he stood up. “I shouldn’t have to do everything around here.”

“Don’t go out there.”

“Why not?”

“He’s, uh, lucid.”

“And?” Caliban looked away. “I’m going out there. Good thing the sun will prevent you from stopping me.” 

Logan marched out of the plant, slamming the door as he headed to the tank. As soon as he opened the door, he froze. You were sitting with Charles.

“Logan!” You exclaimed, surprised to see him already.

“How the hell did you get here?” He grumbled, marching closer. “You disappeared. Everything was gone.”

“I sold the car this morning and snuck into your trunk when you stopped by the hotel.”

“Don’t be mad at her, Logan,” Charles scolded.

“I ain’t mad,” he murmured. “You need to go.”

“No,” you weren’t going to let him push you away this time. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you from the chair with his uninjured one. “You can’t be here. Especially not in here.” He began leading you to the door.

“Let go of her, Logan,” ordered Charles.

“It’s okay, Charles,” you replied. “I can handle this.” You shut the door behind you as Logan pulled you outside.

“Get in the car,” Logan demanded.

“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do! You also don’t get to ask me to stay and then not let me be here.”

“It’s too dangerous! Charles is—He is lucid today, but it’s not always like this, and he can control the seizures and the psychic attacks. You could die, just like the others.”

“I’d rather die in your arms than die homeless on the streets.”

Logan let go of your hand and stepped back. His hand ran down his face in frustration—at himself and the situation. He would rather that, too. That he knew your fate than you die in some alley. But he didn’t want you to have to watch him and Charles decline. Logan knew he couldn’t have it both ways.

You could see the war raging in his mind. You stepped closer and gently took his face in your hands. “I also don’t want you to die alone… I know that something is wrong… I’m staying. We can do this your way, but I’m staying.”

“Fine. But you follow my rules.”

~~~

Logan’s rules were stupid in your eyes, but you were willing to follow them, at least for a little while. The biggest rule Logan had was that you were not allowed to go near Charles unless Logan was home. You thought it was ridiculous and told him as such, but he was still insistent anyway. However, perhaps the biggest thing Logan insisted on was that you two had separate bedrooms. 

“It’s for your own good,” Logan told you.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Or it’s for your own good. You just don’t want me to figure out what’s wrong with you. So you’re still running and hiding.”

Logan hated how well you knew him. That first night you spent there, neither of you got any sleep. You couldn’t help but think about crawling in bed with Logan, though both of you were stuck with uncomfortable twin beds. There was a time when that wouldn’t have mattered. When you two were stuck with a small sleeping situation, Logan would pull you on top of him, holding you there all night. That’s where you wanted to be. In his arms. 

Logan was itching to go to you. To hold you and beg for forgiveness for everything he had done to hurt you. But he couldn’t let himself. Logan needed to keep you at a distance still. He believed it would make it easier when he died from the poison in his body. Though he was sure that you could tell he was already dying.

You, Logan, Charles, and Caliban quickly fell into a routine. Caliban would sleep in the tank every night with Charles. You would make breakfast for the bunch and switch Caliban out so that he could eat and get some more rest. You would stay with Charles, making sure he ate and took his meds until Logan left for work. Logan would always escort you from the tank into the smelting plant before leaving. You took it upon yourself to clean up the smelting plant, trying your best to make it more homey while Caliban took care of Charles. You also took care of lunch and dinners.

Logan would often work late. You made sure that Charles and Caliban ate and went to bed while you waited up for Logan. You had a few books in your belongings, so you would wait on the dingy couch with a book until Logan came home. You would always watch him carefully as he entered and hung up his jacket, trying to hide his pained groans. Logan would hobble over to the table, grabbing the alcohol on his way before you warmed up the food. The two of you would eat in silence.

“Goodnight, Logan,” you would say softly every night after cleaning up. 

“Night, sweetheart,” he would mumble as you walked away.

This routine went on for months, barely ever changing. Logan had noticed that Caliban and Charles were doing better with you around. It helped that they had another person to help ease the burdens and talk to. Charles hadn’t had a seizure since before you arrived, with all of you not taking that for granted.

Logan began to realize that you were doing so much to take care of the three of them, but no one was really taking care of you. You deserved more than that. 

The first gift he showed up with was a new book. It appeared outside your door one of the rare nights when you had gone to bed before Logan got home. 

The next gifts were weeks later and spread out. Logan felt bad that you were stuck in an uncomfortable bed with a flimsy sheet. He knew that your mutation kept you warm, but you still deserved to be comfortable. Each of the gifts was already on your bed when Logan left for work. The first one was new sheets, already fitted against your bed. The next one was a blanket, and then there were new pillows with a whole new mattress as the last one.

You couldn’t understand how Logan was affording these items. You knew that money was tight and felt guilty that he was spending so much on you. The only way you could think to repay him was through your grocery list and the food you made. You knew what meals Logan liked and had them on a constant rotation for him.

Charles and Caliban watched the quiet gifting with much annoyance. They both believed that you should just talk it out.

“Logan is not working today,” Caliban said. “You should talk to him.”

“He’s not the talking type,” you responded, finishing up getting breakfast ready. “Besides… I don’t know if it could help anything now.”

“You never know until you try.”

You ignored the comment as you picked up the tray. “I’ll be out with Charles.”

Caliban sighed as you left, and Logan came down the stairs. Logan grabbed the plate that you had already prepared for him, along with the cup of coffee, and sat at the table.

“She’ll be glad to have you home today,” Caliban commented.

“Sure,” Logan scoffed.

“She misses you.”

“And you would know?”

“I often find her crying as she works.”

That immediately caught Logan’s attention. “What?”

But before Caliban could respond, a high-pitched mental sound rang through their minds. Caliban froze while Logan groaned in pain. Moving as fast as Charles’ seizure would allow, Logan grabbed the medication and fought to get into the tank. He needed to stop Charles and get to you. When he opened the door of the tank, Charles was in bed, seizing, while you had collapsed to the ground. Logan ground his teeth and pushed harder. 

Far too long for his liking, Logan reached Charles’ bedside and injected the meds into him. The seizure stopped, and Logan collapsed to his knees with a grunt. He immediately crawled over to you, only to find you bleeding from your nose and ears. It was his worst nightmare come true again. Caliban stumbled into the tank, covered, as Logan swept you into his arms. He stood up with you, not caring how much pain he was in himself.

“Take care of him,” he mumbled as he carried you out of the tank. 

Every part of his body and soul ached as he carried you up to your room and tucked you in there. You were still breathing, giving him hope. But the last time you had experienced one of Charles’ seizures, you had been in a coma for months. Logan didn’t know if he would survive that again. 

With gentle care, Logan cleaned off your face once you stopped bleeding. He sat in a chair beside your bed, leaning forward with his head down and hands clasped together. You were out for the rest of the day before you finally showed signs of waking up. You moaned as you moved to stretch a little and opened your eyes. Looking over, you saw Logan sitting there, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were red and he wasn’t even bothering to hide the heartbreak.

“You can’t be here,” he whispered.

“Logan—“

“No! You can’t be here. What I was trying to prevent from happening almost happened! You could have died!” He stood up, clenching his fists together, almost like he wished he could physically fight this battle. “I— I can’t— I love you too damn much to lose you like this! I just want you to be alive and safe. And that’s not possible here with Charles… here with me.”

“I have nowhere to go.”

“I know! And it’s all my fucking fault! I broke my promise, and now you’re struggling, and it’s all my fault. I hate myself for putting you in those situations! But I— I can’t have you here and watch Charles kill you like he did all the others…”

“James,” you reached out for his hand, relieved when he let you take it. You could see some of the tension leave his shoulders as you squeezed his hand.

“I can’t live without you, sweetheart.” He plopped back into the chair, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this… to be the man I need to be for you and make the right decision.” His grip on your hand tightened. “I need you like I need air to breathe.”

“Then don’t run. Don’t push me away.”

“It’s not safe here… Charles could have killed you today.”

“But he didn’t. And Caliban told me that he’s been more lucid and less prone to seizures. Telling me to leave would make it worse… And then what will happen to you? Who would take care of you?”

“I don’t need you to worry about me, honey.”

“How can I not?” Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I have worried about you every day since I woke up. I masked it with anger because I thought that would help me handle my situation more, but it didn’t… I know you’re dying, James. Whether you want to be honest with yourself or me, that doesn’t matter. I can see it. And… I can’t let you die alone. Please don’t make either of us die alone.”

Logan launched himself at you, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you close. He was full-on sobbing now; the walls that he had put up now crumbled to dust. “I’m so sorry… baby, I’m so sorry…” 

Your arms came around to hold him. “Please don’t make me leave…”

“No, no,” Logan shook his head as he pulled back and gently cradled your head in his hands. “You’re not going anywhere… Honey… I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing.”

“I will never stop, baby. Until my dying breath. And I never expect your forgiveness for my behavior… for my words.” He reluctantly let you go as he pulled your dog tags out from underneath his shirt.

“My ring,” you gasped as you saw it sitting there.

“I went back and got it,” he explained as he removed it from the chain. “I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else taking it.”

“I thought it was gone… I thought…”

One of Logan’s hands went up to cup your cheek as the other held your ring. “I said things I didn’t mean… I told you that our marriage wasn’t real when it was the most real thing in my entire life. You are my wife. I am your husband. Whether or not it’s on an official document.” He easily slipped the ring on your finger, eyes boring into yours. “You are my wife.” He moved his hands to your neck before he kissed your cheek. “You are my wife.” He then kissed your other cheek. You were growing hotter as his beard scratched your skin in a different way than you were used to. “I am your husband.” He kissed your nose. “You are my wife.” Then his lips finally crashed onto yours.

You pulled Logan closer as he fought for dominance in your mouth. Slowly, you lay down, forcing Logan to get on top of you. Logan never broke the kiss, taking you in like a starving man. His hands moved to slide under your shirt, feeling your heated skin. He groaned as he pulled his hands away, and his lips left yours.

“I’m sorry,” you panted. “I’m just… It’s been too long.”

“I know, honey,” he rasped. “I’m feeling the same way.”

“I can try to cool down—“

“Don’t. I can handle it.” He kissed you again. “Let me try to make amends.”

next chapter >

[judesmoonbeauty]

Can you give the context of BLE chap 25? Pleasee

Hi anon, of course! - MDNI

Longish post

25 BLE starts the morning after Kate and Jude sleep together. While Jude is still sleeping, Kate wraps a sheet around herself and explores his room because she's never been inside of it. As she's looking at all the books on his bookshelf, she doesn't realize that he's come up behind her. He hugs her from behind and calls her out for sneaking around his room.

He says it's fine though because he'll just do something in exchange for it, so he slides his hand down her waist before he rips off her sheet. He pinches her nipple with one hand and then slips a finger inside her with his other hand. He teases her verbally, and then Kate asks him if they're now a couple which surprises Jude.

He says she should know without him saying it, and she argues that some things can't be understood without words. Jude never says 'I love you' to her. Instead, he grabs her by the chin and kisses her with force, and marks a snarky comment that she turned red when she was kissed by a man who isn't her lover (he's implying he is her boyfie), and she says, "then we are a couple." Kate is satisfied with that because she never expected normal words of love from Jude.

Before she can kiss him, he pulls his finger out and says he's got a business meeting that morning. Kate, who is is now wet and horny, asks about the continuation. Jude laughs and tells her to finish off herself, and that's what she gets for cheating him. She asks if he's upset that she consulted Victor and the other Crown members instead of him, about staying at Crown. He says she can think what she wants to think and then leaves......

Darius asks Nica if Jude would be a good fit for their family, and Nica is like...uhhhh, no.

Jude also gives Victor heaps of paperwork and contracts to sign as his punishment for going behind his back to help Kate remain at Crown. Still, he thinks Jude is as vindictive and adorable as ever. Ellis says that up until now, Jude has never once been happy, but since it seems to Ellis that he's at his peak happiness, so he asks Victor if he thinks it's okay to kill Jude now. Victor laughs and says that he can kill him later. Ellis is disappointed, but agrees and then he tells Victor he's going to deliver something to Kate.

However, Kate is not at Crown because she is under cover as a new recruit for a criminal group that's been causing a ruckus lately, and who now have been using Raven Co's products for nefarious purposes. Jude isn't having that.

Kate is in a luxurious room filled with men, booze and smoke. Her part of the mission was to go undercover and steal confidential information, which she already has, so now she's just waiting for Jude's arrival to start his revenge as her signal to leave. But, a thug comes in and says that Jude's been captured, which surprises Kate.

Flash back to a few days before prior to the mission when Jude and Kate are reviewing the operation details, (in which Kate narrates that after they became a couple, Jude often randomly touches Kate, but it's also a regular occurrence that he does before each mission.)

So, we have a very touchy-feely boyfriend.

Any way, Kate repeats the plan to Jude. She'll be undercover for three days, and then he will show up at 8:00 pm on the third day. He asks if she remembers her promise she made to him, and she reiterates that she promises she won't die. Jude says that when it's all over he's going to make love to her until she's hoarse, but her improv skills suck so....

Kate denies that statement, and says that she can too improvise and adapt in any situation. Jude smiles and says he looks forward to it.

Back to the present, Kate realizes that Jude got caught on purpose because he wants to see what she can do. This both annoys her that he'd do something like that to his girlfriend, and excites her because that means that Jude has complete trust in her abilities and he recognizes her. So, she calls out to her boss that she'll take care of Jude Jazza.

When she walks into the room where he's being held in handcuffs, the group is cheering for her to kill him gloriously, and she says to just leave it to her. Kate notices that although Jude looks beaten, his amethyst eyes are twinkling with a smile. She walks up to him and straddles his lap, points her gun at him and asks how she should kill him. The two quietly talk to each other as the people around them jeer for his death, and Kate suggests a bullet to the brain.

Jude says that's fine, but if that happens then she won't get her treat later on. Kate retorts that without her his life would be boring, and Jude admits that while may be true, he's going ruin her life for the rest of her life until they're in hell together. He'll never let her go. Kate says that's fine, they can suffer until they die, together.

His cuffed hands are hugging her waist, and before you know it he's got the cuffs removed, and Kate shoots her gun, and the both of them laugh and smile together as they bring down the criminal group, in his cycle of hatred and revenge.

Let's keep making unfulfilled promises to each other. -So long as I can dream the same dream as you.

The last two lines that finish the chapter are rough translations.

[billybangbang]

Rough Hands, Soft Skin

Butcher x reader

Trigger: Just fluff, and the reader is in pain. This is all self-indulgent.

Butcher had been back for two weeks from his suicide mission blowing up Stillwell. You all had been hiding out with Frenchies contacts below a pawn shop. It was not the Fourth Seasons Inn but it would beat being held by Vought at a Black Ops sight. You had been a University student before all this happened. Now you have lost everything, no contact with any of your friends, no going to classes and finishing your PhD, no family, absolutely nothing. You had been holding on to the hope that one day you could come out of hiding. And all you had to hang on was your Thesis. It might have been stupid to continue working, researching and writing on your paper but it was all you could hold on to.

 The others left you alone for the most part, except Butcher who continuously made off handed comments about your ‘work’. “Ain’t ya’ a Goddamn opptimist, ay luv. Hate to burst your bubble, sweat’art but this ain’t gonna have a happy ending. So why don’ta put that head of yours to good use, would ya’? You would look at him with an uninterested expression not caring what he had to say. You would pick up your laptop and your books and go to your room. Or what counts for a room in this shit hole. At least you were one of the lucky ones who had a small bed in a closed room. You did not know why you had gotten the room, or that Butcher had ripped the boys a new one when he came back and saw you were sleeping on the sofa in the middle of the ‘living’ room. “Ain’t you a bunch of dumb cunts, aye? Whatcha think some guys, you don’t even know, walking in here, looking over seeing someone tasty sleeping on the couch?” Ever since the deal with Becca, Butcher had been especially protective of the women around him, at least the ones without superpower. He had kicked Hughie out of his room, under your protest, and now it was your room. 

You walked towards your bed, sitting down cross legend and leaning on the wall. You worked like this for hours, until late at night when you were sure most people were sleeping. Your back was killing you, especially now sitting on a bed hunched over, your breast weighing you down even more. But you could not sleep, you could never sleep. After another cramp in your arm, and a twinge in your shoulder you got up. Getting all your books and laptop you walked out towards the kitchen/operating table. Pushing aside some drugs and straggling guns, which to your surprise felt so normal, you put down your stuff. You were getting yourself some water, not aware that you had eyes on you. Butcher watched you from the couch where he was taking up residency for now. He had been watching you for days now. Seeing the exhaustion, the struggle to keep your back straight and you always popping your neck. He knew this situation was tearing on The Boys. Normally he would tell everyone to suck it up and get on with it, but he had to admit he had a soft spot for you. He could not understand it, he knew why he was easy on Hughie. He was like his little brother. But it took him by surprise that he was also fond of you. 

He watched you for a little while, unable to sleep himself. You were sitting on the table, your brows furrowed, constantly going back and forth between writing something on your laptop, reading something in a book and taking notes. He had no idea why you would be willing to do this. Sounded like hell to him sitting in front of a Laptop and typing away. He was always more of a get shit done type of guy. Pain and struggle, physically exhausting himself until he could not keep his eyes open anymore.  

You stretched your neck for the fifth time, groaning when you pressed your fingers into a knot in your left shoulder. It had been bugging you for days, and only got worse, but you refused any drugs from Frnechie. You might be a dealer now but you knew not to take the products that you are selling. You leaned back into the chair and stretched your back, a loud pop rippling down your spine. “Fucking ‘ell, aye. Got bubble wrap in ya spine, or what?” YOu jumped at the rumbling voice. You saw Butcher laying on the couch, one arm behind his back and one leg propped up. How could he make being sprawled out on a couch so alluring? 

“I guess you have never written a paper before.” You turned away from him trying to focus on you writing again, bracing for any mean comment he had brewing up in that head of his. You heard rustling, and footsteps coming closer. It made you even more tense. Butcher stood behind you leaning forward to see what you were writing. “Ain’t really in a line of work you have to fill out paperwork, ya kno?” You raised an eyebrow, “True that.” 

The clacking of your fingernails on the keys sounded in the room, Butcher had been standing behind you for a few minutes not saying anything just watching you work. No comment, just arms crossed, watching. It made you feel something akin to annoyance, nervousness and discomfort. You hated people reading your work before you knew it was as close to perfect as it could get. You just tried to ignore iit and keep writing, when another wave of pain ran up your arm towards your neck, pulling your head towards your shoulder. Butcher huffed behind you before you held his big warm hands on your shoulder. It made you jump, shooting him a questioning look over your shoulder. Grimacing at the movement you turned towards your laptop again. “Ya’ gonna break your back if ya’ keep going like t’at.” He just left his hands on your shoulder, the warmth felt nice. “Yeah well, I don’t think a broken back will be what kills me…” “Yea’ I guess ya’ write, that don’t mean you gotta make it harder for you.” You huffed, close to tears now, from the pain and the exhaustion. You leaned forward putting your head in your hands. “It’s all I got,” you whispered through tears. 

Butcher watched you hunch into yourself, you appeared so small in that moment. He knew how you felt, holding on to the one thing you had and trying to act like that one thing will get you through it. Breathing out slowly, his brows furrowed he pushed you back towards him. His hands were still on your shoulder, making you straighten yourself. He slowly began tracing your neck and shoulders, feeling the knots underneath. He slowly started rubbing one prominent knot on your left shoulder. He applied as gentle pressure as his tough hands were capable off. You hissed out in pain. Even though it was painful, you breathed out in relief, his hands working on. He pushed his thumbs in your shoulder blade drawing up, you let out a painted moan. “‘s okay, just relax,” he encouraged. You closed your eyes, just focusing on your breathing and how warm his hands felt on you. “Can you–” You pointed towards a knot below your shoulder blade. He gave you a grunt in acknowledgement and tranced his hands down towards the spot. “I gotta ya’, luv.” 

Butcher continued working on your back and slowly you began to relax, leaning into him even more. You started to become sleepy and your paper was completely forgotten. “Feels good,” you mumbled. Butcher smirked to himself, feeling his heart racing a bit at your words. 

Your breath hitched, when he pulled your sweater to the side, his hands touching the bear skin on the nape of your neck, massaging down your right shoulder. His hands were rough, weathered by the work. You could feel the calluses on his, his smell inviting you senses. It was all him. The rough edges, the tobacco smell, the spice musk. All you wanted to do was sink into it deeper, until it was all you could feel, see, smell. 

Butcher now was loosely touching your skin, most of the knots loose now. But he did not want to stop feeling the softness underneath his finger tips. He had felt you slowly relax underneath his hands, making him feel like he had accomplished something today. You had a way to sooth his mind and he wished he could just wrap his arms around you, feel your skin underneath his hands, while drifting off to sleep. 

You had leaned into him, your head resting on his chest, his hands wandering down your arms below your sweater. You were so exhausted, you could not keep your eyes open, slowly falling asleep without realizing. 

Butcher felt you getting heavier, smiling to himself. “Common, sweat’eart. Let’s get’cha to bed.” You let out a “hm,” but made no attempt to move. Chuckling to himself he stepped back, your head falling back before you woke up a bit catching it. He walked around towards your side, and suddenly you were lifted up. Butcher had wrapped his arms around your back and underneath your legs. If you were not so tired you would have felt yourself going hot at the action. But now all you did was lean your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. 

Butcher walked towards your room, pushing your door open with his foot. Papers with notes scribbled on them littering your bed and floor. He sat you down on the bed, holding you up with one arm and pushing the papers off the bed. He chuckled to himself, thinking if you were awake you would smack him over the head for this. You slowly layed down, curling yourself in your arms. Butcher took your shoes off and pulled the blanket out underneath you. You grumbled at all the rustling. You scooted closer towards the wall, the small bed leaving little room. Butcher thought about it for a bit. He wanted to lay down and hold you while you slept. Yet, feeling your soft skin underneath his fingers and the difference between his weathered hands and your smooth skin made him pause. Instead he pulled the blanket up toward your shoulder, allowing himself to trace your arm one last time before turning around, softly closing the door and making his way back to the couch. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Bi-Han so yk going to get Johnny instead of Bi-Han setting Kenshi free it’s ofc reader, Bi-Han snapping like he does but when he says Johnny lay his hand on reader? Please may I request this?

I can’t write endings for shit apparently 🤣 🦦

Upon meeting the washed up movie star Johnny Cage, all you wanted was for someone to shut him up, even if it meant allowing yourself a brief few seconds of silence because those few seconds of utter silence would be nothing short of paradise; especially considering how much the man loved to run his mouth in the presence of very powerful people.

Men like Johnny were Bi-Han’s biggest pet peeve and you didn’t even feel the need to look over at him to feel his annoyance permeate the air, whereas his patience with the actor grew ever thinner with every passing comment made; Now normally you wouldn’t have questioned or gone against Liu Kang’s wisdom but Johnny Cage was possibly the last person you suspected he’d choose, but then again Lord Liu Kang wasn’t the kind who’d blindly choose people at random.

‘y/n,’ Liu Kang gestured towards a tied up Kenshi. ‘if you please.’

‘Of course Lord Liu Kang.’ You replied as you swiftly brushed past Johnny in the process, aware of the fact that his eyes were lingering on you longer then deemed appropriate; which earned him a murderous glare from Bi-Han as he grunted out a warning at Johnny’s lack of decorum, but that didn’t seem to stop anything that would come afterward.

‘Alright, alright. I’ll play my part in this martial arts LARP. The missus ought to get what she paid for.’ Johnny uttered to himself, as if he was waiting for someone to call for action, because not before long he was done hyping himself up and was already making long strides towards you whilst you were undoing a particularly tight knot. ‘Hey you! Get your damn hands off him.’ You looked over at him to scoff indignantly as you dismissed his theatrics that no one had the time nor patience for.

Upon seeing your unwillingness to participate in the scene he had created within his own head, Johnny furrowed his brows as his hand grabbed onto your bicep, causing you to flinch and halt all movement. ‘I said get your hands off-‘ but before Johnny could finish his line, Bi-Han interjected the scene by forcefully ripped him away from you; only to then send him flying across the room and into the stand that was holding up an hichuli, which shattered into a million pieces.

After seeing to it that Johnny was no longer going to be a problem going forward, Bi-Han was quick to be at your side, his voice already muffled behind his mask was low and hushed to that of a gentle whisper. ‘The idiot didn’t harm you did he?’ He asked as he assessed your bicep for anything out of the ordinary, in hopes to justify his need to knock the washed up actor down another peg or two from thinking he was within any right as to touch you. You smiled as you placed your hand down atop of his, your thumb caressing his cool skin softly, before raising his hand up to your lips to demonstrate your gratitude towards him by pressing a kiss there.

‘I’m fine Bi-Han.’ You reassured as your eyes then wandered over to glance at Johnny’s state when he groaned in pain, wipe the remnants of his hichuli off of his person as he stood back up but you were already looking back at Bi-Han when Johnny stared daggers into his back, angrily muttering under his breath. ‘You just stole me of my opportunity to hand being the one to hand his ass to him.’ You added and by the way his brows rose in curiosity, you knew that Bi-Han was smirking with pride beneath the mask at your comment.

‘Had I let you do away with him as you please,’ Bi-Han began, taking back his hand from you to then brush his fingertips down the expanse of your arm. ‘It wouldn’t have been much of a fair fight on his end.’ He finished and you couldn’t help but beam brightly at his words, feeling warm within your chest knowing how much faith and confidence he had placed in your capabilities to handle things on your own. To have him trust that you can hold your own was all you ever needed to hear from him to know that despite knowing this, Bi-Han wasn’t above his tendencies in keeping his beloved safe.

It was sweet in a way, seeing as he was often a little awkward and stiff when it came to the romantic aspects of your relationship but that didn’t mean that his attempts in showing that he cared were any less valid. He was somewhat of a secret sweetheart once you’ve saw past the walls he’s built and learnt how to recognise his affection through his every action.

‘Was that necessary brother?’ Kuai Liang’s voice interrupted your moment as he stood next to Bi-Han, casting you a concerned look to which you waved off with a hand. ‘To put him in his place.’ Bi-Han responded as he looked at Johnny in avid disgust, making sure to stand almost entirely in front of you, as though shielding you from the actor, whilst staring him down in silent challenge when he chose to look over at the three of you; Like hell Bi-Han would ever let someone like Cage get that close to you again and he would be best to keep that in mind because if he were to tear his luck, Bi-Han wouldn’t be held responsible for fighting him at full force.

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt. 12

A/N: Apologies for the radio silence for so long but it's been hectic getting my dissertation finished! I only have a few more weeks of assignments left and then uni is done which is very scary. For now enjoy this part! As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or send any requests you have for this pairing!

I make no claim that my ranching knowledge is accurate, it's all made up.

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

Previous part - Next part

---

The first colours of the day are starting to paint the sky when y/n stepped out of the house, hat securely on her head and cooler full of food for Gator who was waiting for her.  She dropped it next to the stone grill in exchange for two steaming mugs of coffee that she took to the barn where Jimmy was opening up.

When he got to the open door she handed him one of the mugs, “learning to do this shit one-handed is vital to starting the day properly caffeinated.”

The pair worked through tacking up the horses for the day in a comfortable routine that they had perfected over the last few weeks working together.  Despite repeated reminders that it was low man’s job to tack up in the morning, y/n just glared at whoever directed the reminder at her and insisted that it was a ritual she enjoyed.  Besides, anything she could do to help Jimmy pick up ranch skills quicker and avoid ridicule from the hands.

Comanche was the last horse y/n tacked up, always choosing to leave her own horse until the end when she could give him a little bit of extra attention (and her apple core, an important part of his day).  She led him outside of the barn in time to hear Rip calling out the start of the day.  Mourning the fact that she hadn’t had time for a morning cigarette, y/n mounted up to follow the hands out of the gate towards the herd.

-/-/-

A few hours later, the hands were moving all the cattle from their grazing with the help of the helicopter.  Y/n had Comanche positioned at the back of the group with Ryan and Colby to the left of her to keep the herd moving forward.

“I thought you’d be better to deal with once we finally got over 10 years of pining but no turns out you’re just more of a soft fucker,” Colby complained to Ryan.

She laughed at her friend, “not all cowboys are emotionally stunted like you Colby, no need to be jealous I’m sure you’ll find a real girl to love you one day.”

“A real girl?  As opposed to a what girl?”

“A blow up one,” Ryan sighed, “she’s saying you have a sex doll.”

He didn’t get a chance to insult her back as she opted to leave the boys at the back to check in at the front.  She eased to a walk next to Lloyd when Rip rode up to them.

“Y/n you’re in charge of keeping everyone on track,” he directed, “I gotta deal with stragglers.”

She saluted him and shouted after him, “take Jimmy with you!”

“You’ll take all our jobs when we retire, kid,” Lloyd commented.

Y/n laughed, “old man you ain’t ever gonna retire.  I know you’re gonna die on that horse herding cattle.”

She peeled away and returned to the back next to Ryan who smiled softly at her.  Colby gagged at his friends which earned a middle finger from both of them.  Everyone’s eyes snapped to the trees when there was a shout followed by hooves at speed.

“Ryan, Colby go get those cattle back here!” Y/n shouted, “Lloyd help Jimmy with the horse!”

Repositioning her hat to keep the sun out of her eyes, y/n groaned internally as she scanned over the remaining hands to ensure no more cattle would slip through the cracks.  John had spent her whole life preparing Lee to take over the ranch but now that he was gone, it seemed that her father was desperately scrambling.  In her opinion it seemed far too convenient that John had decided to reconcile with Kayce when the ranch needed an heir, overlooking the fact that she’d been part of the operation for 8 years.  She was pretty sure that she could handle the (legitimate) side of the ranch with her eyes closed.

“You looking deep in thought there sweetheart,” Ryan cut through the anger simmering under the surface.

She smiled at him, “just wishing that dad would see I could handle the ranch.  Jimmy alright?”

“Anyone would think that you feel sorry for him,” he joked half-heartedly.

Lucy shrugged, “I do Ry.  I was born doing this and y’all chose it but he didn’t.  Least I can do is hope he adapts quick.”

She watched as the cattle slipped into the rest of the herd, keeping an eye out for any of them that might have sustained an injury going through the woods.  They were followed by Lloyd who she gestured over to the back before he could get to Rip.

“He’s finding his hat before he comes back,” He answered her question before she got it out.

Y/n huffed out a breath, “fuck knows losing that would not go over well.”

With a nod to her, he turned his horse around and cantered back to head up the herd.  Lucy patted Comanche’s neck and turned her eyes back to the cattle in front of her.

-/-/-

With all the cattle down by the barn, y/n settled into the familiar movements of separating the herd.  Even when she wasn’t old enough to be in the pen, she could remember sitting on the fence helping  John organise the hands.  When she was 10, she’d been allowed to take part on her horse and Lloyd had spent many a evening helping so that y/n would be able to keep up with her brothers.  At this point in her life, there was a chance she could do this job with one arm tied behind her back.

In the other pen, y/n watched as Kayce’s stallion continued to give John a hard time.  She rolled her eyes and leant over to speak to Lloyd, “I question my brother’s motives for giving dad that horse unless he’s tryna get his inheritance early.”

“I think it’s gonna take a bit more than a horse with a vendetta to kill your father,” he remarked.  

Y/n laughed, “here’s hoping a concussion might knock some sense into him.  That or finally kill the rest of his brain cells and I can take over the whole thing.”

She turned her attention back to the cattle encouraging Comanche forward to cut off one of the heifers that had made a break for it.  With her thoughts back on the job and not her father, y/n quickly fell back into the rhythm of working the cattle.

-/-/-

A little while later, y/n’s attention was pulled away from the cattle to Kayce’s truck pulling up outside the barn.  She watched her brother get out before helping Tate out of the other side.  Her nephew made a beeline to the corral to climb the fence, fascinated with what the hands were doing.  Y/n sought out Rip’s gaze from the opposite side who waved her towards the fence where Tate was watching from.  With a smile of thanks to the foreman, she brought Comanche parallel to the boy.

“What are you doing?” Tate asked in greeting, reaching out to stroke the horse’s spotted neck.

His aunt glanced back at the herd, “well we’ve got to split up the herd before we can send them off to make sure they all go to the right place.  Different colours mean different things.  It’s up to us to know which colour is meant to go to who.”

“Mind if I steal your nephew from you?” John leant up against the fence next to him.

She leant down from Comanche to receive a high-five from her nephew, “he’s all your dad.  Misbehave for me Tate.”

Ignoring her dad’s groan and her suggestion, she directed the gelding around the remaining herd to where Ryan had been watching the conversation with hearts in his eyes.

“Why you looking at me like that?  Someone will see you,” Y/n teased.

He rolled his eyes at her, “you’re good with him.  That’s all.”

“For all my brother’s faults he and Mon made a damn good kid,” Y/n admitted, “I just hope dad doesn’t mess it up with how he’s gettin’ his claws in of late.  Tate practically worships him.”

“He adores you too y’know,” Ryan pointed out to her.

Y/n shrugged him off, “that’s just because I’m the only part of this side of the family that’s been around since he was born.  Dad has a lot more interest to a young boy than boring aunt y/n.”

“You ain’t boring to me sweetheart.”

---

@child-of-of-the-sunshine @kendallroydefender @qardasngan @thecobraghost @little-diable

[nkplanet]

FIRST & SECOND

PAIRING: highschool!jungwon x highschool!reader SUMMARY: yang jungwon is your academic rival. the competitiveness between the two of you finally stops when you begin to crack under the pressure WARNINGS: angst (with comfort), toxic parents, jungwon is a little mean, reader skips meals/doesn’t take care of themselves, rushed ending bc i didn’t know how to end this whoopsies WORD COUNT: 1430

NOTE: happy christmas to all who celebrate! and if you don’t, i hope you’ve had a wonderful day anyway. feel free to talk to me about how your day was, even if it wasn’t the best!! 🫶 this fic is my gift to you - enjoy :)

yang jungwon had never been the nicest to you, but it wasn’t like you never reciprocated his snappy comments. sure, you were civil, but the constant competition between the two of you left things tense. even your teachers could sense it, trying to calm things down but failing miserably. you were the highest scoring students in your year, always one or two marks away from each other. some students even placed bets on which one of you would would get the highest scores after exams.

“so,” jungwon drawled from where he was sat behind you, “what do we think this time? personally, i think i’m going to exceed all expectations, and you’ll crash and burn.” you turned around and scoffed, “in your dreams, yang. we both know i’m going to be first this time.”

jungwon simply laughed at you, and you felt anger bubble up inside your chest. it was a math test and, although you were admittedly pretty good at math, jungwon beat you in every exam. his brain was somehow hardwired to remember every single topic you’d ever learned, and he wrote so impossibly fast that he often finished before many were halfway through their tests.

getting home that night, you knew your parents wouldn’t be happy. every time you had an assessment of any kind, they would ridicule you and force you to study until you passed out. tonight wouldn’t be any different.

you were immediately threatened with no dinner unless you studied, a meal which you often skipped in favour of looking over notes anyway. in fact, there were many things that you missed out during the day. you rarely stuck to a skincare routine, as they never fit into your rigorous schedules. it was rare that you really took the time to take care of yourself. although you knew it wasn’t healthy, your parents perpetuated this behaviour to the point where it was now your norm. and so, you began studying. you continued all through the night, almost forgetting to stop for a snack. it was only when you practically passed out on top of your textbooks that you stopped and had some rest.

it seemed when you woke up that your non-stop studying had finally caught up with you. you almost didn’t wake up with your alarm, and panicked after forgetting one of your books. you almost missed the bus but, when you finally got to school and embraced the peace that came with it, a nagging voice in your ear began tormenting you.

“so, almost late today? you’re really slipping, huh?” jungwon teased, leaning on your desk. you glared up at him through your lashes. “i’m not in the mood, yang. leave me alone.” “gosh, so rude. what must your parents think?” that one got you. you but your tongue, despite wanting to both cry and rip jungwon’s head off. you folded your arms and laid your head on them, effectively blocking jungwon out.

he looked confused as he walked behind you to his seat. where was your spark? normally you but him back. were his words really affecting you all that much? he stared at your slumped body in concern, absently flicking through his textbook as an attempt at some last minute revision. you stayed still, not moving a muscle. it was almost like you didn’t care anymore.

in reality, you didn’t. you’d gotten less than jungwon in that test. so much less that you placed fourth in your year. upon hearing of this, your parents went ballistic. they yelled at you, called you a failure and a disgrace, all while you simply sat and stared. you didn’t care anymore. you’d burnt yourself out, and it seemed like you didn’t want to do anything anymore.

people began to take note of your spiral. your teachers, especially, who offered you the minimum they could. you could hear your fellow students murmuring, wondering what had happened for you to fall so far. most of all, jungwon had grown increasingly worried about you. his recent quips (not that there had been many - in fact, he’d laid off a little) had gone unnoticed, and it was like nothing existed to you anymore. your grades continued to fall, as did your rivalry with jungwon.

after an essay, jungwon decided enough was enough. he stopped at your desk, tapping you on the shoulder to wake you from where you were slumped over, sleeping. “what do you want?” you mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “are you okay?” he asked. you could hear concern in his voice but failed to see how or why he felt that way. what if this was all just a trick? “i’m fine, yang. it’s none of your business anyway,” you retorted, looking away from him. “it’s just- you seem really down. you don’t talk to anyone, not even our teachers, and your grades have slipped-“ “is that was this is about? my grades? you couldn’t care less about me, you only want a competition. well, fuck you, jungwon. i don’t care anymore. i’m not gonna be your stupid punching bag.” he took a step back, looking genuinely offended. “fine. if that’s how you want it, that’s how it’ll be. good luck and good riddance.”

the next few weeks were hard. you’d come to realise that jungwon was the only person you really connected with at school, despite your rivalry. the isolation started getting to you, which was how you found yourself seeking him out. he’d been sat at his desk studying in a free period, and the classroom was almost empty. you walked up to his desk, and he looked up from his textbook.

“hi,” you said quietly, your voice cracking and tears coming to your eyes.

he stood up almost immediately, wrapping his arms around you tightly and leading you outside while you cried into his shirt. he shushed you as you continued to sob, stroking your hair. “it’s okay,” he said countless times, “you can cry.” you pushed away from him slightly, looking up at him with wet cheeks and red eyes. “i’m sorry,” you whispered. his heart broke at the sight of you.“you have nothing to be sorry about. if anything, i’m the one that’s sorry - i shouldn’t have said all those awful things to you. it was wrong of me,” he replied softly. you scoffed lightly, “we both said them, we’re both in the wrong here.” he just smiled at you.

you knew eventually you’d have to explain yourself, so you took a deep breath and looked away.

“my parents,” you started. jungwon tried to cut you off, tried to tell you that you didn’t have to tell him, but you raised a hand and continued. “my parents wanted me to be the best. they wanted me to be really smart, to go on to university and make the family proud. every time i got second place, they’d say these awful things. i just kept working harder and harder until i broke, i guess.” jungwon looked at you with something like empathy in his gorgeous eyes. “just how hard did you say you were working?” “hard,” you replied, “i know it’s not right, but sometimes i- i forget to take care of myself. i felt like i needed to forgo things so that i could be better.” he tutted, pulling you against his chest again. some nearby students gawped at you, and he sent them a terrifying glare. “you need to take care of yourself. this isn’t right.”

you simply sighed and buried yourself further into his arms. “i know, but right now i feel better than i have in weeks.” jungwon pulled away from you slightly, a scared look on his face. “listen,” he said, “i have something to tell you.” you became wary, untangling your arms from his. “i’ve liked you for a while. i guess i teased you to, i don’t know, bury the feelings? but i just can’t keep them in anymore. i really do like you.”

you couldn’t find the words to reply. he started to panic, stumbling over words to defend himself, so you did the one thing on your mind - you pulled him in by the collar of his shirt and kissed him.

he short-circuited, standing stiffly before kissing you back. one of his hands reached the back of your neck, while the other rested on your waist. when you separated, he said breathlessly, "i'm guessing that means you feel the same way?" you smiled at him, a sight he'd never be able to get enough of. "yes, you loser. i really like you too."

[loquaciousferret]

I could totally see Javi using his handcuffs on you and getting rough with you when you get mouthy with him because he’s gone a lot for work and you’re lonely 🤭

Ugh dude this thought sent me fucking feral… I had to write something about it immediately. I want him to be my slutty cop boyfriend so bad.

I tried to keep my response to this short and safe to say that didn’t happen so here we go lol I took this and ran with it

All Work, No Play

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ for smut. Unprotected sex, rough sex, use of handcuffs/restraints, pet names, angry(ish) sex, roleplay. Spanking. Maybe more so read at your own risk!

Word Count: 1.5k

Taglist: @silkiers @tightjeansjavi

You heard the key turning in the lock and then Javier’s distinct footsteps as he entered the apartment.

You checked the clock in the corner of your laptop as you continued typing away. 11:14PM.

He called your name and you ignored him, your attention remaining on what you were working on. He found his way to you quickly anyway where you sat at the kitchen table that doubles as your office space in your small apartment.

“s’there any dinner?” He grunts, pouring himself a whisky.

You don’t look up as you respond, flatly. “There was. Three hours ago.”

You can feel his eyes burning into you, but you don’t meet them. The only sounds in the room are of him sipping at his drink and you typing.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry that Escobar didn’t consider your dinner plans when he decided to kill some of my men today. I’ll make sure he consults you first next time.” You hate when his tone drips with sarcasm like this. You knew what you signed up for with Javi and his work, but it shouldn’t mean that you were never allowed to be disappointed about how little time you got with your fiancé.

“Funny, Peña.” You finally flick your gaze up to take him in. His eyes are dark.

“Don’t call me that.” He says through gritted teeth.

You slam the lid of your laptop closed, knowing you won’t be able to concentrate again with you and Javier at each others throats.

“Or what?” You defy.

“Listen cariño,” He begins. He smiles and it seems warm at first but you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. He has finished off his first whisky already and is pouring a second. “You only know Javi. You wouldn’t want to get to know Agent Peña.”

“Actually, if this Agent Peña knows how to treat a woman, I think you ought to introduce me.”

Before you can decide whether this last comment was a terrible idea and a step too far, he has finished his drink in one swift gulp, closed the distance between you with two confident strides, and is ripping you out of your chair, lifting you and placing you down again so you are perched on the kitchen table.

“He doesn’t really deal with women unless they are suspects or whores. Which are you?” He growls in your ear.

You clench your thighs together. You curse whatever faulty part of your brain is making you extremely horny instead of jarred by hearing your fiancée talk like this.

“Well I’m certainly not a whore.” You whisper.

“Hm.” He murmurs, nodding, his face still so close to you that the motion tickles.

In a swift and clearly practiced motion, he has flipped you round and is pressing you into the edge of the table. Then, cool metal slips around both of your wrists, tighter and tighter until you can barely wriggle your hands.

You briefly wonder what has gotten into Javi. This is not something you have ever done together. He doesn’t mix work and pleasure anymore, not with you. It had lost all appeal for him. Or so you thought.

His rock-hard erection straining in his jeans against you snaps you quickly out of these thoughts and back into the moment.

You wiggle your ass, rubbing against him and he grabs the handcuffs and pulls, making them dig into your wrists. You whine at the not entirely unpleasant pain.

“Don’t fucking move.” He hisses into your ear. “Try anything funny and you’ll regret it.”

You are surprised at how much this turns you on. Javi does a good job separating his work persona from the side of himself he gives you. The man in command of you now couldn’t be further from your doting partner. But you like it.

“I think,” he says, “this arrangement will work for us both. Maybe teach you not to get caught up in the wrong crowd again.”

He maintains a tight grip on the handcuffs with one hand and is unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock from his jeans with the other. He roughly grabs at the tight yoga pants you are wearing and tears them down your legs until they bunch around your ankles. He spreads your thighs as much as possible in this position with one strong hand, before sliding a finger through your dripping wet folds.

“You dirty girl. You wanted this, didn’t you?” He teases, rubbing at your wetness with more force.

“Mmhmm.” You agree, the affirmation coming out as a breathy moan.

“If you take my cock well enough, I won’t tell anyone about what you’ve done. How does that sound?”

“Yes, please Javi.” You moan. This earns you a harsh slap to your ass cheek and you yelp.

“Who do you think you are talking to?”

“I’m sorry, Agent Peña. Yes. I can take it.”

“That’s it.” He praises, his tone low and husky. He slips a couple of fingers inside you, working them in and out, curling them to reach the most pleasurable spots. “Show me some respect. It will make this easier on you.”

He lets go of the handcuffs and you relax onto the cold wood beneath you, laying your chest flat against the surface of the table. He removes his fingers but the sensation is quickly replaced with his large tip nudging at your entrance.

He stills for a second. You go to turn round to look at him, wondering why he has hesitated and you find him taking his shirt off. Then, suddenly he plunges into you right to the hilt at full force.

You cry out at the feeling.

“You told me you could take it.” He grunts, piercing you with full force thrusts.

“Y-Yes.” You moan out. “I can take it, Agent. Please don’t stop.”

The table creaks as he continues to plow into you. You strain against the handcuffs. He enjoys watching you like this and he regrets not having tried it with you sooner.

The sounds of skin slapping and your moans and cries fill the apartment, probably audible from the hallway and the neighbouring properties. Neither of you care. It was the first sex you had had all week. His schedule made it hard to ever get enough of each other.

He pulls out and turns you onto your back, you wrap your legs around his waist. He gropes at your tits roughly, slapping, pinching and squeezing them as he fucks you into the table. It moves across the tiled floor slightly due to the force. With your arms pinned behind you, the handcuffs dig into you, and you arch your back to get away from them.

“Does it hurt?” He grumbles.

“Yes, Sir.” You whine.

“Good.” He says back. He moves one hand to play with your clit, rubbing it in gentle circles. This sensation distracts you from the pain of the metal biting into your skin.

It doesn’t take long before you can feel yourself getting closer to orgasm. You had been touch-starved all week and that only made it easier for him to pleasure you.

“Tell me who makes you feel this good?” He demands.

“Ah-“ You try to speak and only a cry of pleasure escapes you.

“Answer me.” He snaps, lightly slapping your clit. The sensation sends tingles rushing through your whole body. He sees your reaction and does it again.

“Y-You, Agent.” You struggle to get out. “Only you, Agent Peña.”

“That’s right.” He rubs your clit again, faster and with more force. The friction is close to sending you over the edge.

“Don’t cum yet.” He warns. “Together.”

You bite your lip and nod. His hands move to your hips and he slams you down onto his cock, each thrust hits the deepest part of you and you struggle to hold back, clenching around him, becoming impossibly tight as you concentrate on withholding your release.

His thrusts falter and he grunts loudly, then demands “Cum for me. Now, baby.”

You focus on your pleasure and you let go, your legs tensing up around him, holding him closer inside you. He spills into you with a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Jesus.” He says, and pulls out with a hiss.

He lifts you up towards him by his shoulders, holding you close. He searches in his jacket pocket which is strewn over a nearby chair, retrieving the key and unlocking the handcuffs, tossing them aside. They clatter loudly where they land.

You know the moment is over and your Javi is back when he tenderly strokes your hair with one hand, presses a kiss to your forehead, and rubs your wrists with his other large, warm palm. “I have the rest of the weekend off. I’ll take you out to dinner tomorrow, hm?”

You smile and nuzzle closer into his bare chest, tightening your arms around him into a hug. “Thank you, Agent Peña”

He tuts at you and pulls away, grinning. “Don’t get me going again, girl.”