#flutter developers new york

[iapp-technologies]

Best Mobile App Development Company in USA

Explore why iApp Technologies is recognized as the Best Mobile App Development Company in the USA. Offering custom mobile app solutions for iOS, Android, and cross-platform development, we deliver innovative and scalable apps tailored to your business needs. With a focus on user experience, cutting-edge technology, and timely project delivery, our team ensures your app stands out in a competitive market.

Whether you're a startup or an enterprise, trust iApp Technologies to bring your mobile app vision to life. Discover the benefits of partnering with industry-leading app developers in the USA.

[bcodercastle]

Professional Flutter App Development Company in Dubai | BCoder Castle

Are you looking to work with the best Flutter app development company in Dubai? You've found it! Your ideas can be transformed into amazing; high-performing mobile applications by our team of talented developers, who are ready to enthral your users and advance your company. Get in touch with us right away for a smooth, dependable, and cutting-edge app development experience.

[rulerofstars]

autumn whispers

oneshot: in the space between being a public hero and a private man, between the chaos of saving the world and the peace of your shared sanctuary, lies the most profound truth—that even after facing the darkness of the void, bucky barnes still finds his way home to you.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

tags: fluff, fluff... more fluff. thunderbolts. bucky barnes. 1.9k words.

The warm studio lights beamed down on the polished hardwood floor of the talk show set. Outside, autumn leaves danced in the crisp October air, but inside, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation as the audience quieted down. A montage of explosive battle footage played on the large screen behind the host's desk: scenes of the Thunderbolts fighting side by side against the latest world-ending threat.

"And we're back with our very special guest tonight," the host, Marissa, announced with practiced enthusiasm as the camera panned to her and her guest. "The man who went from war hero, to villain, to hero again, to congressman, and now back to saving the world—Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes!"

The audience erupted into applause as the camera focused on Bucky. You couldn't help but lean closer to your television screen, heart fluttering despite yourself. There he was, Bucky Barnes, looking almost unfairly handsome in a navy blue button-down that brought out the steel blue of his eyes. His brown hair, now grown out to just below his chin, was tucked behind his ears with a few rebellious strands falling across his forehead.

He smiled politely, the expression warm but reserved in that way only Bucky could manage. The past decade had smoothed some of the harder edges from his face, but the slight furrow between his brows, the one that appeared whenever he was in the spotlight, remained.

"Thank you for having me, Marissa," he replied, his voice carrying that gentle gravel that always sent shivers down your spine.

"So, Congressman Barnes, or should I call you Sergeant Barnes again?" Marissa asked with a flirtatious edge to her voice, leaning slightly toward him.

"James is fine," he answered with a small, practiced smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"James," she echoed, clearly delighted. "After three years representing New York's 14th district in Congress, many were surprised when you answered the call to rejoin the Avengers for this latest crisis. Tell us about that decision."

Bucky shifted in his seat, his vibranium hand, now sleekly designed with Wakandan tech that allowed it to appear almost indistinguishable from his right except for a subtle metallic sheen, rested comfortably on his knee.

"Well, when you've been fighting as long as I have, you learn that duty comes in many forms," he started, his voice thoughtful. "For the past few years, I thought my duty was best served in Congress, fighting for veterans' rights and rehabilitation programs for enhanced individuals. But when the call came that the Thunderbolts needed backup..." He paused, a shadow of something deeper crossing his features. "Some battles need to be fought on different fronts."

You smiled at the television, remembering the late-night conversations that had preceded his decision. The worry in his eyes, the way he'd held you close as if trying to memorize the feel of you in his arms before leaving.

"And what a battle it was!" Marissa exclaimed. "The footage we've seen is just incredible. Working alongside the Thunderbolts again after your own time on the team—how did that feel?"

Bucky's expression softened slightly. "Like coming home, in some ways. That team—we've been through a lot together. There's a trust that develops when you've fought side by side with people who've also known what it's like to seek redemption."

"Speaking of coming home," Marissa segued smoothly, her tone shifting to something more personal as she leaned even closer, "one thing our viewers are dying to know, is there someone special waiting for you when you return from saving the world? The Internet has been abuzz with speculation about Congressman Barnes' love life."

The camera zoomed in slightly on Bucky's face, catching the nearly imperceptible tightening around his eyes. You held your breath, knowing what was coming.

"No comment on that front," he replied diplomatically. "I prefer to keep my personal life private."

Marissa wasn't deterred. "So you're saying you're single and available?" she pressed, her smile widening.

A flash of amusement crossed Bucky's face, there and gone in an instant that most viewers would miss. But you knew that look, he was thinking of you.

"I'm saying that some parts of life are sacred enough to keep away from the spotlight," he countered gently but firmly. "I learned that lesson the hard way over many decades."

"Fair enough," Marissa conceded, though she looked slightly disappointed. "Well, I'm sure there are plenty of viewers who'll be happy to hear there might still be a chance with the heroic congressman."

Bucky gave a noncommittal smile as the conversation shifted to policies he had championed in Congress and how his perspective as both a veteran and an enhanced individual had shaped his legislative priorities.

You switched off the television with a fond shake of your head. He'd handled that perfectly, as always. The agreement you'd both come to early in your relationship, to keep your love life completely separate from his public persona had served you well. No reporters camped outside your door, no intrusive questions about your past, no scrutiny of every aspect of your relationship.

Just the two of you, living your quiet life together between his more public responsibilities.

You glanced at the clock, he'd be home soon. The interview had been pre-recorded three days ago, before he'd returned from Washington. With a smile, you headed to the kitchen to finish preparing his favorite autumn meal.

The door clicked open quietly just as you were pulling the apple cider from the stove. The familiar sound of Bucky's footsteps—always lighter than you'd expect from a man his size—made your heart leap.

"Something smells amazing," his voice called from the entryway.

You turned to see him standing in the doorway of your small but cozy kitchen, jacket already hung by the door, boots removed. His hair was slightly tousled from the autumn wind, cheeks tinged pink from the cold. The sight of him, not Congressman Barnes, not the Winter Soldier, not even Avenger Bucky, but just your Bucky—made warmth spread through your chest.

"Welcome home," you said, setting down the pot and crossing the room to him. "Just in time. I saw your interview."

His arms encircled your waist as he pulled you against his chest, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply as if drawing strength from your scent. "Yeah? How'd I do?"

"Mmm, very diplomatic," you murmured as his lips found the sensitive spot below your ear. "Marissa was really trying her best, wasn't she?"

Bucky chuckled against your skin, the sound reverberating through you. "Didn't even notice," he mumbled. "Was too busy thinking about coming home to you."

You pulled back slightly to look at his face, reaching up to tuck a strand of that soft brown hair behind his ear. His eyes, those incredible blue-gray eyes that had seen nearly a century of history—looked at you with such tenderness it made your breath catch.

"Missed you," he whispered, his voice dropping to that intimate tone reserved only for you.

"It was only three days this time," you reminded him with a smile, though you'd felt every hour of his absence.

"Three days too many," he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. "Congress, Avengers, interviews... none of it compares to this. To you. To us."

Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, still amazed after all this time that this man—this complicated, beautiful, heroic man—had chosen a quiet life with you when he could have had anything or anyone.

"I made something special for you," you said, gesturing toward the kitchen where delicious aromas wafted through the apartment.

His eyes lit up with simple pleasure. "You spoil me, doll."

"You deserve to be spoiled," you replied easily. "Now go wash up. Dinner's almost ready."

He stole a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom, and you returned to the stove with a smile playing on your lips. The routine was familiar, comforting, a pocket of normalcy carved out of extraordinary circumstances.

The small dining table in your apartment was already set, candles waiting to be lit. Outside your window, the trees on your quiet Brooklyn street displayed their autumn finery, reds, golds, and oranges creating a fiery tapestry against the darkening evening sky. You'd chosen this apartment together three years ago, when Bucky had first run for Congress, close enough to his district office but far enough from the heart of the city to give you both room to breathe.

Bucky returned, changed into a soft henley and comfortable pants, his hair damp and combed back from his face. The scent of his cologne, subtle notes of cedar and bergamot—filled your senses as he moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, helping you bring the food to the table, lighting the candles, pouring the cider into the ceramic mugs you'd bought together at a craft fair last autumn. As he passed behind you, his hand brushed against the small of your back, a gentle touch that sent pleasant shivers up your spine.

"So," you began as you settled into your seats, Bucky choosing to sit close beside you rather than across the table. He casually rested his hand on your thigh, thumb making small, gentle circles against the fabric of your pants. The warmth of his touch radiated through you as you leaned slightly into him. "How did the debriefing go? The real one, not the TV-friendly version."

Bucky took a bite of the food, closing his eyes briefly in appreciation before answering. His face was so close to yours that you could feel the gentle warmth of his breath, inhale the intoxicating blend of his natural musk and subtle cologne. "Better than expected. Bob says hi, by the way. Wants to know when we're coming over for dinner."

"Tell him anytime he's willing to cook," you teased.

Bucky smiled, a genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Will do." He took another bite, then added more softly, "It felt good, being back in the field. Different than Congress. More immediate. In Congress, you fight for change that might take years to see. Out there, you know right away if you've made a difference."

You nodded, understanding the complex relationship he had with his dual roles. "You make a difference either way, Buck. Different battles, like you said in the interview."

"Speaking of the interview," he said, a mischievous glint entering his eyes, "sorry about the 'single' implication. You know how it goes."

You waved a dismissive hand. "Please. I knew what I was signing up for." You took a sip of cider, the warm spices dancing on your tongue. "Besides, I kind of enjoy being your best-kept secret, Congressman Barnes."

His expression softened as he turned to face you, his hand sliding up from your thigh to cup your cheek. The candlelight caught the subtle gleam of his vibranium fingers against your skin as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. He tasted of cider and something uniquely him, a taste that never failed to make your heart race. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"Not a secret," he corrected gently. "Just private. There's a difference."

"I know," you assured him. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

The decision to keep your relationship out of the public eye had been mutual from the beginning. After everything Bucky had been through, decades of having his choices taken away, years of fighting to reclaim his identity—privacy had become sacred to him. And you, having seen the media circus that surrounded other Avengers' relationships, had readily agreed.

It wasn't hiding; it was preserving something precious.

After dinner, you moved to the small living room, settling onto the worn but comfortable couch that faced the electric fireplace. Outside, rain had begun to fall, pattering gently against the windows. Bucky pulled the handmade quilt, a gift from Wanda, over both of you as you curled against his side.

"Want to watch something?" you asked, though you already knew the answer.

Bucky shook his head, his arm tightening around you. "Just want to be here. With you. No screens, no cameras, no reporters. Just us."

You nestled closer, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your cheek. His vibranium arm, always slightly cooler than his flesh one, curved protectively around your waist.

"Tell me something good that happened while I was gone," he murmured into your hair.

This was another ritual, finding moments of simple joy to share with each other, a practice that had helped Bucky learn to recognize the good in his life after decades of darkness.

"Mrs. Kapoor from downstairs brought up some homemade samosas yesterday," you told him. "Said they were a thank you for helping her grandson with his history project. I saved you some—they're in the fridge."

"She makes the best samosas in Brooklyn," Bucky said appreciatively. "What else?"

"The maple tree in the park has turned completely red now. It happened almost overnight. And I finished that book you recommended, the one about the lighthouse keeper. You were right, the ending was worth the slow middle."

He smiled against your temple. "I've been reading books long enough to know a good payoff when I see one coming."

"Your turn," you prompted, looking up at him. "Something good from your trip."

Bucky was quiet for a moment, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your arm. "There was this kid at the hospital we visited after the battle. Couldn't have been more than eight. Lost his arm in an accident last year." His voice softened. "He showed me his prosthetic—nothing fancy, but he'd decorated it with Avengers stickers. Had Steve's Captain America mask right at the top."

Your heart squeezed. "Bucky..."

"I showed him some of the basic maintenance I do on mine," he continued. "Simple stuff, things his parents could help with. But the way he looked at me, doll..." Bucky shook his head slightly. "Like having one arm didn't make him less. Like it made him special. Connected to something bigger."

You reached for his metal hand, bringing it to your lips and kissing the palm gently. "You changed how he sees himself."

"Maybe," Bucky acknowledged. "That's worth all the congressional hearings and PR interviews combined."

The rain grew heavier outside, drumming a soothing rhythm on the roof. The warm glow from the fireplace cast dancing shadows across Bucky's face, highlighting the contours you'd memorized with your fingertips on countless nights like this one.

"You know," you said thoughtfully, "if Marissa knew what she was missing: quiet nights, pot roast, and rainstorms—she might have tried even harder to get that dating confirmation."

Bucky laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Not a chance. This isn't for sharing." His expression grew more serious as he gazed down at you. "Sometimes I think about how different my life could have been. All those years as the Winter Soldier, then the fighting, the pardons, the political career... None of it prepared me for this."

"For what?" you asked softly.

"For how it would feel to come home to someone who knows all of me—every part, every history, every name I've ever had—and loves me anyway." His voice dropped to a whisper. "For how simple and yet impossible it seemed that I could have this kind of peace."

You shifted to face him fully, cupping his face between your hands. "James Buchanan Barnes, are you getting sentimental on me?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Might be. Happens every autumn. Something about the changing leaves makes a century-old man reflective."

"Well, this century-old man better save some of that reflection for tomorrow," you teased. "We promised to help Yori rake his yard, remember?"

Bucky groaned dramatically. "Why did I agree to that? I was just in a battle to save the world."

"Because he promised to make us sushi afterward," you reminded him. "And because you're a good friend, even when you pretend to be grumpy about it."

He sighed in mock resignation, then suddenly moved, pulling you into his lap in one fluid motion that reminded you of the superhuman strength he usually kept carefully controlled. "Fine. But that means we should make the most of tonight."

Your breath caught as his hands settled on your waist, warm and secure. "Any specific ideas, Congressman?"

His eyes darkened slightly as he leaned closer. "Several. None of which I'll be sharing on national television."

As his lips found yours, gentle at first and then with growing intensity, you smiled against his mouth. Outside, the autumn storm continued, leaves swirling in the wind, the world rushing by with all its complexities and dangers. It was an ordinary moment. And yet, as you padded across the room to join him underneath the sheets, accepting every kiss, every touch, every bit of his being— you knew this was everything neither of you had dared to dream possible.

Congressman, Avenger, Thunderbolt, Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, the world knew him by many names. But in the gentle warmth of a Brooklyn sunset, he was simply yours, and you were his, and that was the greatest truth of all.

[lazysoulwriter]

sweetest surprise - pedro pascal.

requested! hope you like it, sweetie! - requested are open. i don’t usually write anything involving kids, since it’s not really my vibe — but this one felt special and i really wanted to do it. hope you like it! it turned out super soft and sweet. 💛

---

Pedro had no idea.

Which was rare. He usually had that sixth sense husbands develop—the one where they know something is up just by the way you sigh or stir your coffee. But this time? Nothing.

He thought you were still in L.A., stuck with work and a tiny person with glitter in her curls who refused to nap. He didn’t even question it when you sent a voice note that morning full of sleepy yawns and background cartoons.

Little did he know, you were already in New York, standing in the elevator of his building, your daughter buzzing beside you like she’d had three cups of hot cocoa.

"Shhh," you whispered with a soft laugh, pressing a finger to your lips. She grinned, bouncing slightly. "But I wanna say happy birthday now." "I know, meu amor. But let’s do it right, okay? We knock. Then we yell." "Then we hug!" she added, very seriously. You smiled, smoothing a curl away from her forehead. “Exactly.”

The elevator dinged, and your heart did that thing it always did right before you saw him—skipped, fluttered, soared. No matter how many years or miles or mornings apart.

You knocked. Three soft taps.

From inside, you heard movement, a small grunt of confusion, and then his voice—warm, groggy, curious.

"...Hello?"

You could picture him already—barefoot, hair wild, probably wearing that worn gray tee that hung just right.

You knocked again. This time, your daughter couldn't hold it. "Happy birthday, Daddy!" she squealed, muffled behind the door. There was a pause. A beat. And then—

"Wait—wait a second—” The door flung open.

There he was.

Pedro froze for a second. His face crumpled into disbelief, then joy so pure it hit you like a wave. You barely managed a “Surprise…” before he was pulling both of you in, one arm around your waist, the other lifting your daughter clean off the ground as she giggled into his neck.

“Qué carajo,” he whispered, holding her tight. “Mi corazón. Look at you.”

“I helped with the plan,” she declared proudly. “We flew! And I had apple juice on the plane.” Pedro laughed, eyes glistening. He looked at you over her shoulder. “You did all this?” You shrugged, smiling. “We missed you.” He leaned in, kissing your forehead, then your cheek, then finally your lips—slow, grateful, like he needed a moment just to breathe you in.

Inside, everything smelled like him. Cedar, coffee, the candle he always lit on Sunday mornings. You slipped off your shoes and sank into the space that always felt like home, no matter the city.

Pedro sat on the couch, your daughter curled up on his chest like she’d never left. He looked down at her, brushing a hand over her soft curls, his expression all melted edges and quiet awe.

“She grew,” he said softly. “Didn’t she?” You nodded, settling beside him. “Every day. You blink and she’s taller.”

He looked at you again, and his voice broke just a little. “Thank you. For coming. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.” You tucked yourself into his side, hand over his heart. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Later, he opened the tiny, glitter-covered card she’d made him. It was more stickers than words, but he kept running his thumb over it like it was treasure.

That night, when she was asleep between you in his bed—her little body wrapped around Pedro’s arm like a koala—he looked at you in the soft glow of the hallway light and whispered,

“We’re so lucky.” You smiled. “We really are.” And then, just before sleep pulled you under—his fingers found yours under the blanket. Warm, steady. Home.

---

[yeoslattes]

Lowkey

Genre: smut

Wc: 7.6k

Pairings: bodyguard!Yunho, rich girl college student!reader, chauffeur!Mingi

Summary: Yunho desperately needs someone to put you in your place

Warnings: smut, threesome, dom/sub themes, late 20s Yunho/Mingi, early to mid twenties reader, mild dumbification, Yunho is lowkey patronizing, fingering, oral both fem and male receiving, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm, cream pie, cum shots, clothed sex, backshots, mild choking, use of pet names (doll, slut, tiny), mentions of size difference, spoiled reader, no use of YN, unprotected sex, alcohol use, reader is a party girl

A/N: my Yungi fic is finally out!!! I had so much fun writing this! While I edited I realized how Yunho goes from really shy to suddenly getting fed up and wanting to put her in her place (character development 😭). Also Mingi is really mostly a side character here, most of the readers interactions are with Yunho but don’t fret I have stuff planned for Mingi in the future. I hope you guys enjoy and ofc any feedback is appreciated just be nice about it🫶🏼

The sun beams through your sheer curtains smacking you right in the face. Your tired warm body is snuggled under the cream white fluffy duvets that your mom had purchased for you in Italy. Cracking an eye open you stretch your limbs and groan softly, sitting up on the bed. A shiver shakes through you, the AC causing goosebumps to erupt on your soft skin.

With only one class in your schedule for today you took on the task of getting ready for university. Fashion was an art to you, it was a sole representation of who you were and how you liked to express yourself. And what exactly was that self expression? Well, clothes from the most expensive designers of course. Your parents owned one of the top marketing companies in all of New York and were currently in the works of expanding worldwide, to say you got everything and anything you wanted was an understatement; the fact that you were an only child only ever added to just how much your parents spoiled you.

“Darling! Yunho is up front waiting for you, don’t be late, traffic in the city is only going to get worse.” Your mother’s voice reverberates through the tall walls of the grand mansion.

“I'll be on my way soon!” You respond back, quickly spraying your sweet perfume and heading downstairs. You may have been perfect in your parent’s eyes, or maybe they just liked to act oblivious but behind that perfect daughter act you put up was something more. You loved to shop till you dropped, that was a known fact but what many didn’t know was the absolute party animal you had developed into over the course of your college career. 

There wasn’t a club in New York that you hadn’t graced with your presence. Even when you traveled outside the country for an already expensive vacation, you'd still find a way to get into the most renowned clubs wherever you were on the map. You’d always come up with an excuse to go out, perhaps an important dinner, or sometimes a friend of a friend’s birthday party; your parents would always believe you. Your friends were no saints either, rolling in money themselves they were always there to join you in any escapade you had. You were living the ultimate college student life and no one was ever there to say no to you. 

You adjust your bag on your shoulder and slide into the sleek black Escalade. Yunho sits on his phone in the driver’s seat, immediately dropping the device into the cup holder when he hears you settle into the back.

“Good morning Yuyu.” You beam, “good morning miss,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, he sends you a smile through the rear view mirror which you return. Yunho’s heart flutters slightly as he steals glances of you. Your fingers type away on your phone, updating your friends with the latest gossip you have. Yunho’s gaze keeps flicking to you in the mirror, his admiration suddenly turning into pure irritation at the constant ticking of your phone’s keyboard. He’s so annoyed he almost misses the turn to your best friend's house. He slams on the breaks, sending you flying into the back of the passenger seat. You groan loudly while holding your forehead.

“What the fuck Yunho, ugh.” You exclaim tossing your phone on the seat. “Can you be more careful?” His gaze hardens as he peers at you through the mirror for the umpteenth time this morning. He gulps and sucks in a deep breath. Your voice only adding to his irritation. “Don’t forget to pick up Cassie and Yeri.” You say typing away on your phone again. Yunho can only sit in silence, his mind going to the fat paycheck he’d get at the end of this week for driving a CEO’s daughter around. You were such a joy to drive except when you weren’t, but he’d endure anything if it meant he got to work for you; his boy crush only growing by the day.

He’d been picking up your little group of friends every morning since you started your freshman year at NYU, while also driving you around town and picking you up from clubs while being drunk off your mind. It was taking a toll on him, he rarely got any sleep before he had to be up at the ass crack of dawn again, but the pay was good so maybe that’s why he didn’t mind it as much. At least that’s what he liked to tell himself whenever he felt his feelings for you bubbling up. “My daughter is off limits. I trust you understand that right?” He vividly remembers your father saying as he signed the contract. He’d been employed by your dad right before you started college, you had ended up totaling your first car, and with your father’s company status on the rise he decided it’d be best to keep you safe by hiring a chauffeur. You were now halfway through your 3rd year of college with Yunho still as your driver. 

He didn’t talk much but when he did he would only ever say the most encouraging things. After you had been stood up on a date you had cried your eyes out in the car, it had upset him seeing you that way so on the ride back home he pulled over and gave you a pep talk of just how much you deserved; since then you had grown fond of him. But it was only ever friendly, until recently. He was tall and extremely handsome, always looking better when you had too many drinks for your own good as he hauled you out of an A list New York club. While he had his good moments with you, there were times where you grinded his gears, like this morning’s drive to school or when you were too “tired” to carry all your shopping bags and just shoved them in his hands without saying please or thank you. As smitten as he was with you, you were his boss’ daughter and that was a zone he did not want to enter.

As he pulls up close to the curb in front of the main area of campus, he sits in silence like always and listens to the loud chatter between you and your friends.

“Alright girlies! Shopping after school? Let's meet up here, Yunho will be driving us!” You say loudly smacking your peppermint gum, your girlfriends all speak loudly, agreeing between giggles. You were the last one to step out of the black Escalade, “bye Yuyu see you soon mwah!” You blow him a kiss and he smiles at you, only shaking his head with a breathy laugh after the door closes.

With a couple of hours of free time, Yunho decides to kill time at a nearby coffee shop, the tired chauffeur sits in the corner of the rather empty cafe. His face lights up mid sip when Mingi walks in. He greets his long time friend, the equally tall man sitting adjacent to him.

“Man, it's like I barely see you nowadays.” Mingi sighs, relaxing into the chair. Yunho checks his watch, your class was short and he’d be expecting a text in about an hour.

“Yea…work is work. It's been kicking my ass recently.” He groans, “do you at least get a vacation?” Mingi asks curiously, Yunho shrugs, “Maybe I would if I asked for it, but I’m trying to rack up at least 3 more checks before I take time off. Besides, taking care of the SMB Enterprises future successor isn’t so bad; she has her bad days but her and her friends make it worth a while.” Mingi chuckles at his friend, “ah really? How so?” Yunho shrugs yet again, “lets just say free reality TV but in person.” Mingi playfully scoffs, his hand coming up to run through his hair. However, there was something more that Yunho wasn’t saying, being friends since childhood had its perks as he knew Yunho better than anyone else and could read him like a book..

“There’s something more though that makes it worth your while right?” Mingi asks curiously and Yunho’s cheeks flush red. Mingi nods trying to suppress a smile, “you like her.” Yunho mentally curses, he chuckles nervously and shakes his head. “Well yes…but I could never. Her father would have my head; I have to keep things strictly professional.”

While Yunho said one thing, Mingi would be thinking the opposite. He was a carefree soul, he didn’t care about anything, “you should-” he starts but Yunho cuts him off, “I can’t that’d be violating my contract.”

The pair talked for a few hours just until around the time your class ended. Yunho is about to check his phone when he sees you walking through the cafe doors, his brows shoot up in confusion, awkwardness filling him when you suddenly walk up to the table he and Mingi were sitting at.

“Oh I'm so sorry, I didn’t know you'd be out 30 minutes early.” He says swallowing thickly and standing up. He could only hope you wouldn’t tell your dad about his cafe date with Mingi. 

“Yea my professor let us out a bit early and I wanted a coffee.” You say, texting away on your phone yet again, Yunho suppresses an eyeroll. “But don’t worry I wont tell daddy about your little…date.” You say taking a peek at Mingi. He sends you a tight lipped smile. “Okay well, are you ready to go miss?” You shake your head. “Mm mm, I gotta wait for Cassie and Yeri, and after can you take us to Soho? I need to pick up a few things.” Yunho nods, “for sure. I’ll go bring the car.” You take his seat, not sparing a glance at Mingi, who still remains in his spot after waving goodbye to Yunho.

“So…” he starts, 

“Not interested.” Sending him a smile, you walk over to grab your coffee from the mobile order area, “See you around! Yunho’s friend.” You shout walking out of the cafe. Mingi sits back dumbfounded, “unbelievable that he fell for a bitch.” He mutters silently.

***

You had over 5 bags up to the brim with the latest fashion trends. You were sure you’d bought at least one mini dress for every weekend of the month. Your feet ached and you were drained from carrying the bags all through the streets of Soho. Yunho remained inside the car, parked in the designated parking area waiting for your text. 

You step out of Neiman Marcus and wait for your ride to pull up in front of the doors. When your driver sees you struggling to the car he immediately hops out to put your and your friend’s bags all in the trunk.

“Good shopping day miss?” He asks, and you nod, stretching your back deliciously against the leather seats of the Escalade once you’re finally inside. The rest of the ride is abnormally quiet, even Cassie and Yeri lay against the headrests with their eyes closed, the day's exhaustion catching up to you three. Before you know it Yunho is pulling up the long curved driveway, stopping right in front of your front doors.

“Thank you for driving us around today Yunho, I know it can be a bit much.” You sheepishly thank him, a soft blush covering your cheeks. “Of course miss, I’m only doing my job.” He gives you a smile and you retreat into your house with him following close behind. This was one of those moments where he absolutely adored you.

***

Friday morning something shifts when your father calls you into his office. You stand barefoot, sporting sleeping shorts and an oversized t-shirt, feeling slightly awkward as Yunho is also standing there. You can feel him eyeing you, clearly not used to seeing you in your lounging attire.

“Darling, due to current articles and the uprising of the company I have decided to promote Yunho to your bodyguard.” Your father says, his hands resting politely atop of his desk. You can't help but stare at him dumbfounded, it was the calm before the storm. Yunho could see your gears turning, he could almost calculate when your outburst was going to happen.

“What do you mean you’re assigning me a bodyguard? Absolutely not! I do not need a babysitter.” Your father’s demeanor changes. 

“I will not tolerate your attitude.” He says raising his hand up.

“But dad, I am in college! Actually, I'm about to graduate college. I don’t need someone to look after me!” You state, close to stomping your feet in a tantrum.

“It’s not that you need it dear, it's just for safety precautions. SMD is gaining popularity and I cannot have you walking around without any protection.” He reiterates. You look at Yunho and he can only look down at his feet. “But why him?” At your words his head pops up to look in your direction, his eyes gleaming with mild offense.  

“Why not Yunho? He’s perfect for the role. He’s worked with us for 3 years now, knows all your friends and is very familiar with your lifestyle.” Your father defends. 

“Well yes but I like him as my chauffeur…I am not here for this dad.” You argue, pointing aggressively at him as you try to prove your point.

“I hired a new chauffeur, per Yunho’s recommendation. He will be here tonight for whatever dinner you have going on this time.” Immediately you knew who he was talking about. 

“That loser from the coffee shop!?” You say looking at Yunho this time. Your father brings a hand up to massage his temples, Yunho is about to respond but is cut off.

“Yunho is your bodyguard, and Mingi is your new driver. So either put up with it or stay home tonight. End of discussion!” 

You pressed your lips shut, suddenly feeling defeated by your father. You knew discussing the matter further with him was a lost cause, there was no budging him when he set his mind on something. Finally you drop your head in defeat and nod. “Now go, I have to finish some work here. Yunho my apologies for that, you are dismissed.”

You spent the rest of your afternoon laying in bed just staring at the ceiling, then scrolling on your phone and switching between apps. Nightfall approaches and it's time to get ready for a night in the city. You start with a long shower, exfoliating, shaving and moisturizing. You pick a dress from the countless different ones you’d bought earlier in the week. Delicately pulling the tag off, you slip it on. Your phone startles you as it vibrates aggressively on your vanity table, blindly you answer and are met with Cassie’s face.

“I love you but you have to hurry, our VIP reservation is at 11.” Cassie urges, you nod at her through the camera. “Yes yes I'll be there soon, there were new arrangements made today. I’ll tell you all about it.” You hang up the phone and hurry down, where Yunho waits for you by the door. You don't notice the way his eyes rake over your frame and he suppresses a little smirk. He opens the car door for you and when you slip onto the leather seats you are met by the same guy from the cafe. You’ve got to be kidding me, you think to yourself. He’s dressed in a suit just like Yunho, he doesn't say anything else besides a small hello. You only watch the way he smirks at Yunho when he slips into the passenger seat. A smirk that makes you wonder if you had been a topic of discussion between them. The car ride is silent and soon you are pulling into the valet of the night club.

“Mingi right?” Your voice breaks the silence and he nods, “nice to meet you miss. I look forward to tending to whatever you need.” Mingi replies and you almost roll your eyes at the automated response. 

“Nice to meet you once again Mingi, welcome to your first day on the job.” You scoff hopping out of the car, the entire debacle between you and your father clearly still filling you up with annoyance.

***

The night starts off slow, you sip on a cocktail while Cassie leans into your ear. “So who's the new one?” Your eyes shift to Mingi who stands next to Yunho, his big hands crossed at his pelvis. He sports a dark pair of shades making it impossible to see where he was looking, yet you can sense his gaze is on you and your best friend.

“Mingi, he’s friends with Yunho. My dad decided that I suddenly needed a bodyguard and promoted Yunho, then hired Mingi per Yunho’s recommendation.” You mock your father’s tone. 

“Hmm,” she hums, her teeth digging into her glossy lips, “can I have one?” Looking over to Mingi, you can see his attention is now fully on Cassie despite the dark lenses covering his irises. She waves at him and he sends her a smile. Your friend almost melts into the couch at the subtle advances of your driver.

 “No.” Your voice is flat, “I fear they’re both mine.” You joke, except you're not sure how much of it is a joke. The more the alcohol kicks in, the more appealing the pair looks to you.

Your party of friends grows bigger by the hour and more regular club goers fill the space, the bass of the music pounds on your chest, it’s not long before you start feeling the slight fogginess of the alcohol clouding your judgement. Shot after shot kept coming, bottles of the most expensive liquor being served to your table. You’re up now dancing freely with your friends, Yunho standing within close proximity, he’s had to stabilize you on your feet twice now. He points to his watch when Mingi looks at him. “We have to bring her home in about an hour. Her dad’s rules.” He informs his counterpart through their ear piece. Time flew by and by the time that hour hits its 3 a.m.

Yunho sucks in a deep breath and leans down to your level. “It’s time to go.” He says loudly, and you shake your head, “it’s only 3 Yuyu. I don’t wanna go.” You pout holding your stance. It’d only get more difficult from this point on, “I understand that miss but your father’s rules were clear.” You ignore his words and try to tread through the crowd but a heavy hand pulls you back. 

“Stop it!” you say twisting your arm from his grip, “I don’t wanna go! You two and my dad can go kiss my ass!” Yunho sent a nod to Mingi. Suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Mingi clears up space as Yunho walks with you over his shoulder through the crowd. His large hand holds the bottom of your dress down. Your small fists pound on his back, as you try to flail yourself all over the place.

“Put me down Yunho!” But your bodyguard refuses. Back in valet Yunho waits for the car, while apologetically smiling at a few other employees as you yell every profanity under the sun. Mingi stands beside Yunho and you manage to catch the edge of his sunglasses with your fist, smacking them off his face and scratching him in the process. Mingi winces, holding the raised skin of his face as he picks up his glasses. Yunho shoves you in the car and soon you’re all on your merry way home with you passed out in the backseat.

“I’m regretting this job.” Mingi mutters, running his finger over the scratch on his face. “She’s usually not like this, I guess daddy’s new rules are getting to her.” Yunho responds, sending a pitied look to his best friend. “Usually?” Mingi asks, shaking his head in annoyance.

***

“Mom, did dad give me a curfew?” You ask your mother the next morning, you did your best to ignore the pounding in your head. You can see her eyes shift as she tries to put up a front.

“No baby, what do you mean? Or at least I don’t know of any curfew.” She replies, folding her laundry neatly.

“Because last night that I was out with my friends…at the dinner I told you about. I left at a specific time and that's not how Yunho and I usually operate.” With crossed arms you stare at your mother waiting for whatever excuse she’s come up with. 

Instead she gives you a pointed look, “and how do you usually operate?” She smirks, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Uh, I let him know when I'm ready to go.” You state as if it were an obvious fact. Your words hang in the air and she shrugs.

“I’d ask your father directly honey, I wouldn't know.” You huff in annoyance and head back to your room to freshen up and dispute this with your father.

The door to his office echoes loudly when you swing it open, startling Mingi and Yunho who currently sit in the seats facing the desk.

“Pumpkin I'm discussing busine-”

“Did you give me a curfew?” You ask cutting him off. Your father sighs in defeat, he knew that you’d come to him with questions sooner or later.

“Not necessarily a curfew hon, just a set time to have you home.”

“That’s literally the definition of a curfew! Dad, what is going on? Are you trying to ruin my life?” Your father, clearly on the edge already, is having none of it.

“Is 3 a.m not enough for your clubbing activities?” Your eyes suddenly widen at your fathers words. How'd he know? Then your eyes shift to Yunho who now stands besides Mingi against the wall. Both men stoic in the face as if the entire debacle isn’t going on in front of them. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You keep telling your mom and I that you are going out to important dinners, come to find out you're out at clubs getting absolutely wasted with those trashy friends of yours.” You shake your head, “You don’t underst-”

“What I don’t understand is why my daughter is acting like this. Look at the gash you gave Mingi last night, all because he wanted to ensure your safety back home and you just can’t help but act a fool! Do what you like, you are an adult, but under my house you’ll be home when I say!” He yells, his voice booming through the office.

“But-” You try to argue, and he shakes his head.

“Don't you get it? With our status you cannot be acting like this; it’ll end up in the tabloids and what does that mean for SMD?” Your father searches your face for some type of answer, but you hide by crossing your arms and looking down at the wooden floor.

“You swipe my Amex like it's nothing, you buy what you want, you go where you want, what more do you want? So no, the curfew isn't going anywhere. End of discussion. Now please leave so I can finish business.” Your words are caught in your throat. 

You stare at your father before your eyes shift to the two men dressed in black on the side, Yunho sporting a very sly smirk as he watches your eyes sparkle with tears. He was enjoying this little meltdown, he enjoyed the fact that someone had finally said no; after all you were a spoiled brat and while he loved that about you, it was time for a reality check. You stomp out of the office slamming the mahogany door behind you causing you father to flinch and apologize to the pair.

“Don’t have daughters.” Your father sighs.

***

The next week you spent going to your scheduled classes and swimming. The weekend had been the opposite of relaxing between your fathers argument and the raging hangover, you decided to reconnect with nature, touch some grass if you will. Every single time, Yunho was out there with you, and there was nothing he could do about the skanky bikinis you sported every time you sat out in the sun. In his head he cursed Mingi for being able to take a break, after all he was your only real bodyguard. 

He sat in a chair in the shade, his eyes drinking in every area of uncovered skin behind his sunglasses. His mind went places and he couldn't help but readjust himself multiple times. Your demeanor with him had also changed, you were more talkative than before, asking him about himself, offering him lemonade made with your own secret recipe. You were sweet talking him and he knew it was your way of trying to get him to break the rules for you next time you went out. But if there was one thing about Yunho it was that he wasn't a people pleaser, and he wasn't one to give in easily especially not to brats like you. 

The week flew by for him and like usual, here he was on his way with you and Mingi to another top club in New York city. You were dressed in a two piece set this time, the skirt so short your underwear peeked through every time you sat down. With wandering eyes everywhere, in order to shield you Yunho’s big frame stood in front of you. He takes your hand and you smile up at him with big eyes, but he averts his focus to his job at hand which was protecting you.

***

By midnight you're drunk out of your mind, so drunk that you ended up booking a hotel room in the building where the said club was at. You told yourself you deserved to get wasted and spoil yourself in a luxurious hotel after the hell week you’d had.

“I-i don’t wanna go home, just take me up to my room whenever. I forwarded you the reservation email.” You told Yunho. It wouldn’t align with your father’s rules but Yunho was sure you'd twist up some pretty lie to get out of being asked too many questions. “Tell my parents I'm crashing at Cassie’s.” Yunho could only agree, because what else could he do in this situation? Would it put his job in jeopardy? Yes, was he annoyed with you? Also yes, but he'd rather deal with your father later than have you cause another scene for him and Mingi yet again.

“One more drink Yuyu please?” You ask, your eyes big and glassy as you stare up at him. He shakes his head, “I don’t think it's a good idea to keep drinking miss. At least take a break.” He suggests, your lips form a pout but you were too tired to fight him. Eventually you manage to slip through the crowd and to the bar. Mingi and Yunho search for you but their panic is short lived when you reappear with another martini in hand.

“Do you want some?” You ask, there you go again with that suggestive gaze that has him reeling. He shakes his head and as you're about to take another sip he pulls the glass away from you. “I said no more.” You pout at his harsh tone. 

“Fine, take me to the bathroom then.” You say crossing your arms. Yunho sighs internally, deciding that having you use the restroom alone was too risky he convinces Cassie to take you. The blonde holds on to your arm as Yunho clears space for you to walk through. He stands outside the door and motions Cassie to bring you in.

Yunho waits outside for what feels like an eternity; after 20 minutes he knocks on the door. Cassie opens and without a word pulls him in. “what-” but Cassie shakes her head, “she threw up about half of the drinks she drank. I fed her some water, she should be sobering up.” You sit against the wall of the fancy bathroom with your eyes closed. You feel a hand going around your bicep to hoist you up and you shake your head.

“Don’t move me, I’d rather wait it out here. Just get me some water please.” Not daring to have your eyes obliterated by the harsh light you keep them closed. You hear the bathroom door open, letting the noise of the club in for a second before it muffles out again.

A full bottle and a half of water later, you had sobered up almost entirely. You rinse your mouth in the sink and pat some cold water on your chest to freshen up and head back out where Yunho stands.

You walk through the crowd heading straight for the bar, ready for at least another round of drinks but Yunho pulls you back. “No more drinks.” He states flatly. Your brows draw together, sending him a confused look. “Um, who says I can’t? Cause as far as I can remember you’re just my bodyguard not my dad.” Now you have taken it upon yourself to mess with him. You were tired of being bossed around. Your eyes bore into his, his gaze has shifted in a way you had never seen before; he was pissed. Sucking in a deep breath he leans down to your ear, “you are done for the night.” You swallow thickly and shrug trying to play off the sudden ache in the bottom half of your body. You take the lead, both men following close behind you.

Despite sobering up, the exhaustion after drinking is catching up to you and the little alcohol you have left in your system still keeps you a bit unstable on your feet. The elevator ride up to the room is tension filled. You can feel both men’s gazes on you, and out of the corner of your eye you see the way Yunho and Mingi exchange glances.

As soon as you step through the door Yunho breaks the silence, “I need you to sit down and drink some water.” Taking the water bottle from his grip, you sit down purposefully taking small sips. Both men watch you carefully, pulling their blazers off and draping them over a chair, leaving them both in their white button ups.

“I don’t really want any more water.” Your hoarse voice says, pushing the bottle away from you. You go to stand up but Yunho stops you.

“Sit the fuck down.” He points at the seat as soon as you rise to your feet.

“Excu-”

“Now.” You plop back down on the soft chair in defeat. 

“You’ve been a real fucking pain the ass you know that right?” At that you giggle, biting your lip a little too hard at his frustration.

“She thinks it's funny Min.” A low hum rumbles through Mingi’s chest.

“Do you want me to blow you as a thank you for being the best bodyguard ever and putting up with me? Because I will.” Your body is now burning hot, just the mere thought of Yunho having you on your knees in front of his best friend who is also your chauffeur excites you. You slowly rise to your feet, stepping carefully towards Yunho as if testing the waters. Your bare feet on the carpet showcasing the sheer size difference between you and the dark blue haired man. Without second thought his hands cup your face and pull you into him for a kiss. Everything goes fast, your hands grip his wrists as he still has a hold of your face as he kisses you with pure fervor.

“Fucking brat.” Yunho pulls you away and redirects you towards Mingi who is now standing by the bed. Your arms stretch out to reach for the Mingi, he pulls you into him and you meet his lips as Yunho manhandles your skirt. Mingi wastes no time laying you down, the skirt of your two piece set now resting on your waist from the vigorous movement, your panty clad cunt on full display. Yunho presses you down into bed by your chest, his opposite hand coming down to play with you. His fingers rub over the fabric of your now soiled underwear. 

“Such a good girl huh Yunho?” Mingi says chuckling at your writhing form. Yunho smirks,

“Sit behind her, why don't you.” Yunho pulls you up and Mingi slots himself between you and the plush pillows, your back now resting flush against his chest. His arms encircle themselves around your waist as Yunho tugs your panties down. He holds the fabric up by his finger, “We’ve been getting peeks of this slutty thong all night, how cute.” Yunho chuckles.

His fingers toys with you before slipping two slender digits inside. Immediately your back arches against your chauffeur’s chest, his grip only tightening on you. His eyes are focused on his fingers splitting you open, his hand coming down to rest right above your pelvis. He starts with languid strokes, and the way you only spread your legs further for him eggs him on to pick up speed.

“Look at you, spreading your legs open like a slut.” There’s a condescending look on Yunho’s face when he speaks to you. The veins on his arms slightly bulged out from the excretion. You could only whine and attempt to buck your hips on his fingers. Between the haze of the alcohol and the duo's cologne invading your senses you feel yourself spiraling. A knot forming in the pit of your tummy builds up fast. Your lower body begins to shake as your legs threaten to close, that's when Mingi reaches for one of your legs and he hooks his hand behind your knee pulling you open for Yunho.

“Open up pretty.” He murmurs in your ear.

“Im gon-na, Yuyu.” You squirm in Mingi’s grip, your whines picking up in volume. You can barely keep your eyes open and then your orgasm hits you. Your body shudders heavily under the two men. Yunho sends you encouraging words as you cum all over his fingers. Mingi leans down to press feathered kisses on your cheek, his lips inching slowly towards your now messy glossy lips. He kisses you hard, his hand unhooking from your leg and coming down hard against your pussy. Your whole body jolts at the action you can only cry out and take what they give you.

“Come here baby,” Yunho says, pulling you up swiftly. Your legs are shaky as you stand close to him, his hands on your face again, this time you lean to kiss him, glossy lips working desperately against his. But Yunho wasn’t about to let you do what you wanted, not this time. He pulls away, his large hand wrapping around your throat as he squeezes lightly, only enough to take your breath away momentarily.

“Watch it slut, you want something you have to work for it.” He spits, backing you into Mingi. “Who goes first? Me or you?” The driver chuckles and pulls your arms behind your back bending you into the bed. “I’ll break her in for you, how about that?” Yunho smiles at him, “don't let her cum. Tiny has to learn to work for things, she can’t just swipe daddy’s Amex here.” Yunho mocks.

You climb onto the bed face down, ass up, with your hands resting behind your back. Mingi’s belt buckle resonates loudly in the room, echoing in the haze of your brain. Yunho suddenly comes into your line of vision, his pants also unbuckled.

“Are you ready baby?” He asks, feigning a pout at the tears lining your eyes. You lift your head, your hands coming to support you as you push yourself up. You nod vigorously,

“Please Yuyu, I want it so bad.” You whine. Yunho shakes his head and points at Mingi, “why don’t you ask Mingi nicely baby.”

You pant softly and crane your neck to look at the man behind you. “Please Mingi, I want it so bad.” Your hips wiggle back towards him. Mingi’s mushroom tip prods at your entrance

“You want it?” he teases and you nod, taking your lip between your teeth, his large hands grip your waist as he gently pushes in. His girth alone splitting you open slowly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, at the intrusion.

“Hands behind your back girlie.” Yunho whispers, your arms reach back and Mingi holds on to them as he pulls you onto him, his entire length buried in you. His warm skin comes in contact with your ass and suddenly he’s set a delicious pace that has you reeling. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you're sure you've now gone dumb. Yunho is talking to you but you can barely hear him, until he taps your cheek, his hand cupping your chin and gently lifting your face up. His leaking tip pokes your lips, you open your mouth, wide eyes looking up at him. Yunho bites lip, his hands caressing your face.

“Good fucking girl baby.” You hum around his cock and he gently moves further in until he hits the back of your throat. You gag slightly, tears now rolling down your cheeks freely.

“Being used from both ends, baby. Look at you.” Mingi moans, his thrust now becoming erratic, he eventually resorts to barely pulling out, his hips jutting hard against you just bullying his tip against your cervix. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your orgasm fast approaching. Yunho takes notice of the way, you're going limp on the bed, your whole body twitching.

“She's about to cum, don't let her finish. She doesn't deserve it yet Min.” He grunts, pulling out of your mouth and cupping your chin once again. He watches with an amused smile as Mingi struggles to slow down and pull out, just as you're about to fall over the brink it all stops. Your tired body collapses on the bed, writhing in discomfort at your fading high.

“Yun-ho, please.” You whine, rubbing your legs together.

“I'm pretty sure I gave myself blue balls man,” Mingi shudders, his hand running up and down his cock, trying to keep the stimulation going. Yunho ignores his friend's comment and takes his place instead, he looms over you now. He pulls you on your back, tugging on the top you still wore, which was now soiled with spit and tears. He tugs at the stretchy material until it sits comfortably under your chest. Your tits spilling over, nipples perky and waiting for attention. He toys with your tits, fondling them and laying a flat smack that irritates the skin. You're panting like a dog, legs open waiting for him to do whatever he wanted to you. 

“Are you ready to work for it?” He asks, once again in a condescending tone. You nod, your hands reaching around the bed feeling for Mingi. Yunho leans down pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips, his tongue swipes over your lip, your mouth drops open as he slips inside, instantly buried to the hilt. He gives you one last kiss and pulls away, instantly setting a brutal pace. Pleasure spreads all over your abdomen, as his cock hits that spongy spot deep within you. You're a moaning mess, legs trying to cage him in and hips lifting to meet him but he doesn't let you.

“You're acting like a bitch in heat baby, you wanna cum?” He asks, and you nod, letting out a strangled cry. “Ye-yes yuyu please.” Mingi’s hand works heavy on his cock, trying to match the grip your cunt had around him.

“I said work for it, remember? So why don’t you be a doll and help Mingi.” He motions over to the man beside your head. You do the best you can to replace his hand, your pace is shaky, barely consistent, he leans a bit closer and you are able to get his red tip in your mouth. His hand coming down to cup the back of your head, helping you lift up without causing much strain. Mingi lowers his hips, lodging himself deeper in your mouth. You can barely focus anymore, your headspace far from reality. 

“She's going dumb look at her,” Yunho grunts, Mingi breathes heavily above you. And you suck gently and somehow that's enough to push him over the edge. His cum spills into your mouth at the same time your high is building up. You pull from him, his tip still leaking, now spilling all over your lips and chin. Yunho hold your hips and your hands come down to grip his forearms as he fucks you into the bed. 

“You earned it tiny, go ahead and fucking c-cum.” Yunho strangles out, your orgasm builds up until you're falling over the edge. Your body locks up, legs shaking as you ride your high, loud whines falling from your lips. You relax into the bed and Yunho who ruts against you suddenly stills and spills into your gummy walls. He sucks in a deep breath as the pulsing in his cock comes to a slow halt. He pulls out and his seed is spilling out from you, running down between your lips and onto the bed creating a wet patch.

Your eyes are closed, lungs still trying to suck in air from the heavy exertion. You feel yourself getting moved around, a warm towel wiping your face and then between your legs. Someone pulls you out of the matching set that was still bunched around your waist. 

You feel a tap on your cheek and you open your eyes to be met by Mingi and a water bottle. “Here's some water doll.” You sit up and gently sip from the bottle, humming at the cool liquid running down your scratched throat. Yunho slips on the white button he sported on you. Mingi looks at him as he puts the blazer back on.

“I’ll stop somewhere for a button up in the morning.” Yunho says when he feels Mingi’s judgemental gaze on him. “Get some rest doll, Mingi and I will be back for you in the morning.” you pout as they tuck you into the plush bed. “You can't stay?” You ask but you knew the answer. Yunho shakes his head, “gotta report that you are safe. It'll also look suspicious if we stay, you know you got eyes on you everywhere now.” You nod and nuzzle into the bed. 

The door clicks softly behind them as they walk towards the elevators. “I can tell she really likes you.” Mingi informs his best friend. Yunho shrugs, “That's rocky territory, I couldn't imagine what her father would do if he ever found out.” In a way it hurt his chest the thought of never seeing you again if your father found out. After pining over you for the past 3 years in secrecy, and it coming down to tonight's activities he was happy, but it was also bittersweet that nothing further than this could ever happen; he could never call you fully his out of fear.

Yunho rests against the elevator wall, anxiety creeping up on him at the thought of trying to play this all off in the future. He avoids the front desk personnel’s gaze as she gives him a questioning look on his attire as his bare chest peeked through the expensive blazer. When they're both back in the car he reports to your father through text that you'd insisted on crashing at Cassie’s place and that they’d be back for you early in the morning.

***

The following weeks were a blur at least for Yunho, he couldn't concentrate on anything other than you, all he ever saw was you. He caught himself admiring more than ever before; so much so Mingi had to often snap him back to reality. Aside from that, there was nothing he could do besides stay quiet and do his job. He had Mingi to vent to but that ended when the man resigned after he got a job opportunity as a producer. He was shortly replaced by Hongjoong, he was cool and all but he couldn’t have deep conversations with him like he did with his best friend.

The lewd activities from that night replayed in his mind and he just couldn’t help how much his feelings for you kept growing since then; he was sure he was now in love. He envied Mingi and how easily he relaxed in situations where Yunho was conflicted.

“Why are you stressing, man? We all had a good time, it doesn't need to be brought up again.” His friend would say, but that was easy for him to say when he wasn't in love with you. 

You on the other hand had developed a full blown crush on your bodyguard, you liked the way he handled you, that was all you needed in your life. Not being able to hold back any longer you’d began to sneak out into the greenhouse that sat in a quiet corner of your grand backyard. Yunho would meet you for quickies, which would eventually lead to the two of you talking till the late hours of the night all while your parents remained clueless inside. You knew how much Yunho feared losing his job and being faced by your father, but of one thing you were sure; you always got what you wanted, and Yunho would be yours one way or another.

[reasonsforhope]

"Chicago’s 82-story Aqua Tower appears to flutter with the wind. Its unusual, undulating facade has made it one of the most unique features of Chicago’s skyline, distinct from the many right-angled glass towers that surround it.

In designing it, the architect Jeanne Gang thought not only about how humans would see it, dancing against the sky, but also how it would look to the birds who fly past. The irregularity of the building’s face allows birds to see it more clearly and avoid fatal collisions. “It’s kind of designed to work for both humans and birds,” she said.

As many as 1 billion birds in the US die in building collisions each year. And Chicago, which sits along the Mississippi Flyway, one of the four major north-south migration routes, is among the riskiest places for birds. This year, at least 1,000 birds died in one day from colliding with a single glass-covered building. In New York, which lies along the Atlantic Flyway, hundreds of species traverse the skyline and tens of thousands die each year.

As awareness grows of the dangers posed by glistening towers and bright lights, architects are starting to reimagine city skylines to design buildings that are both aesthetically daring and bird-safe.

Pictured: Chicago's Aqua Tower was designed with birds in mind.

Some are experimenting with new types of patterned or coated glass that birds can see. Others are rethinking glass towers entirely, experimenting with exteriors that use wood, concrete or steel rods. Blurring lines between the indoors and outdoors, some architects are creating green roofs and facades, inviting birds to nest within the building.

“Many people think about bird-friendly design as yet another limitation on buildings, yet another requirement,” said Dan Piselli, director of sustainability at the New York-based architecture firm FXCollaborative. “But there are so many design-forward buildings that perfectly exemplify that this doesn’t have to limit your design, your freedom.”

How modern buildings put birds in danger

For Deborah Laurel, principal in the firm Prendergast Laurel Architects, the realization came a couple of decades ago. She was up for an award for her firm’s renovation of the Staten Island Children’s Museum when the museum’s director mentioned to her that a number of birds had been crashing into the new addition. “I was horrified,” she said.

She embarked on a frenzy of research to learn more about bird collisions. After several years of investigation, she found there was little in the way of practical tips for architects, and she teamed up with the conservation group NYC Audubon, to develop a bird-safe building guide.

The issue, she discovered, was that technological and architectural advancements over the last half-century had in some ways transformed New York City – and most other US skylines and suburbs – into death traps for birds...

At certain times of day, tall glass towers almost blend into the sky. At other times, windows appear so pristinely clear that they are imperceptible to birds, who might try to fly though them. During the day, trees and greenery reflected on shiny building facades can trick birds, whereas at night, brightly lit buildings can confuse and bewilder them...

Pictured: A green roof on the Javits Convention Center serves as a sanctuary for birds.

The changes that could save avian lives

About a decade ago, Piselli’s firm worked on a half-billion-dollar renovation of New York’s Jacob K Javits Convention Center, a gleaming glass-clad space frame structure that was killing 4,000-5,000 birds a year. “The building was this black Death Star in the urban landscape,” Piselli said.

To make it more bird friendly, FXCollaborative (which was then called FXFowle) reduced the amount of glass and replaced the rest of it with fritted glass, which has a ceramic pattern baked into it. Tiny, textured dots on the glass are barely perceptible to people – but birds can see them. The fritted glass can also help reduce heat from the sun, keeping the building cooler and lowering air conditioning costs. “This became kind of the poster child for bird-friendly design in the last decade,” Piselli said.

The renovation also included a green roof, monitored by the NYC Audubon. The roof now serves as a sanctuary for several species of birds, including a colony of herring gulls. Living roofs have since become popular in New York and other major cities, in an inversion of the decades-long practice of fortifying buildings with anti-bird spikes. In the Netherlands, the facade of the World Wildlife Fund headquarters, a futuristic structure that looks like an undulating blob of mercury, contains nest boxes and spaces for birds and bats to live.

The use of fritted glass has also become more common as a way to save the birds and energy.

Earlier this year, Azadeh Omidfar Sawyer, an assistant professor in building technology in the Carnegie Mellon School of Architecture, working with student researchers, used open-source software to help designers create bespoke, bird-friendly glass patterns. A book of 50 patterns that Sawyer published recently includes intricate geometric lattices and abstract arrays of lines and blobs. “Any architect can pick up this book and choose a pattern they like, or they can customize it,” she said.

Pictured: The fritted glass used in Studio Gang’s expansion of Kresge College at the University of California, Santa Cruz, depicts the animals in the local ecosystem.

Builders have also been experimenting with UV-printed patterns, which are invisible to humans but perceptible to most birds. At night, conservationists and architects are encouraging buildings turn off lights, especially during migration season, when the bright glow of a city skyline can disorient birds.

And architects are increasingly integrating screens or grates that provide shade as well as visibility for birds. The 52-floor New York Times building, for example, uses fritted glass clad with ceramic rods. The spacing between the rods increases toward the top of the building, to give the impression that the building is dissolving into the sky.

Gang’s work has incorporated structures that can also serve as blinds for birders, or perches from which to observe nature. A theater she designed in Glencoe, Illinois, for example, is surrounded by a walking path made of a wood lattice, where visitors can feel like they’re up in the canopy of trees.

Pictured: The Writers Theatre, designed by Studio Gang, includes a walking path encased in wood lattice.

Rejecting the idea of the iridescent, entirely mirrored-glass building, “where you can’t tell the difference between the habitat and the sky”, Gang aims for the opposite. “I always tried to make the buildings more visible with light and shadow and geometry, to have more of a solid presence,” she said.

Gang has been experimenting with adding bird feeders around her own home in an effort to reduce collisions with windows, and she encourages other homeowners to do the same.

“I’ve found that birds slow down and stop at feeders instead of trying to fly through the glass,” she said.

While high-rise buildings and massive urban projects receive the most attention, homes and low-rise buildings account for most bird collision deaths. “The huge challenge is that glass is everywhere.” said Christine Sheppard, who directs the glass collisions program at the American Bird Conservancy (ABC). “It’s hard to know what I know and not cringe when I look at it.”

Tips for improving your own home include using stained glass or patterned decals that can help birds see a window, she said. ABC has compiled a list of window treatments and materials, ranked by how bird-safe they are.

Whether they’re large or small, the challenge of designing buildings that are safe for birds can be “liberating”, said Gang, who has become an avid birdwatcher and now carries a pair of binoculars on her morning jogs. “It gives you another dimension to try to imagine.”"

-via The Guardian, December 27, 2023

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Soulmates with Peter Parker? 🥺💕

.⋆｡Arachnophobia｡⋆.

Peter Parker x plus size reader

Who knew that moving to New York could be just the kick the universe needed to fulfil your destiny?

Warnings: fluff, soulmate AU, explosions WC: 876

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

6k Celebration Bingo

Well this spider doesn’t hate you.

Those were the words that appeared along your collarbone the day you turned 18. The black lettering was just barely visible when you awoke that morning but by lunch time, all of your friends were poking fun at the strange phrase now permanently branded into your skin. You glared at them as you told them to back off and that you at least had an interesting soulmate if their first words to you were as strange as that.

But a nagging part of your mind wondered if they were right, if the person that burned with the same flame as you did was some kind of weirdo. As the months went on, you imagined countless scenarios where those six words would be uttered to you. Maybe at a frat costume party where they would be dressed like a spider. Or they were your next door neighbour and they saved you from a stray arachnid that had made a home in your kitchen. Or maybe they were just really into spiders in general. Needless to say, your obsession with your soulmate's words had slowly developed an aversion to the insects, going completely out of your way to avoid them just in case your soulmate was a weirdo like your friends had predicted.

Three years after you finally escaped the social wormhole of high school, you moved to New York City. With a scholarship under your belt and dreams of going to a college that could handle more than 300 students, you moved into a tiny dorm right at the edge of Columbia’s campus. You were excited to chase your dream but first- you needed groceries.

With headphones fitted tightly against your ears, the deafening sounds of the city blurred around you. You weren’t really sure exactly where you were going but it was early afternoon and your phone was fully charged, so what was the harm in wandering for a while. 

New York City opened up before you, the skyline glittered with thousands of windows and bright lights capturing your gaze no matter where you turned. It was all so exciting and rather distracting. You were ignorant to the commotion building behind you, until a strange heat licked at the back of your neck.

In a second, your world went completely upside down, literally. The only warning you received before the wind was knocked from your lungs was the blast of some sort of explosion and then, the world zipped by you. Someone had a firm hold on your thick waist as dots of light swirled around you. You clung to them, your head spinning as they lifted you higher and higher, until it all suddenly stopped.

Gravel crunched under your shoes as you stumbled forwards. A hand curled around your wrist, keeping you upright. You crashed into his strong chest. Your eyes slowly came into focus as the ringing in your ears faded. Sirens filled the air yet all you could think about was the insignia of a spider splayed across the red suit right in front of you.

“God I hate spiders.” The white eyes of his mask widened comically as you heard his breath stutter. His grip on your waist tightened for just a second.

“Well this spider doesn’t hate you.” The world stilled in that moment. You leaned back just enough to look into his eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“I didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did I, I mean I am Spider-MAN and you hate spiders.” Heat crawled up your cheeks while you bashfully glanced away but quickly looked at him as he laughed. Something deep in your chest came to life with his laugh, quickly spreading through your veins and making your heart flutter with a whole new emotion. 

His gloved hands slipped down to the small of your back. You could feel the way his body shook with adrenaline, just the same as yours was. “Maybe I don’t hate this spider.”

“I could be venomous.” You shrugged, your fingers slowly creeping up the expanse of his torso, feeling the toned muscle that lay just beneath his suit.

“As long as you don’t bite, I think we’ll be ok.” His mask scrunched up where you imagined his lips would be.

“I-“ Another explosion rocked the building beneath your feet. He tore his gaze away from you. He sighed heavily and reluctantly took a step back. “I have to go.”

Your touch lingered on him for as long as you could, almost fearful that he would completely vanish the second you let him go. “I know.” The tips of his fingers brushed against the swell of your hips.

“I’ll come back, I swear.” His voice cracked. 

“Go save the world Spidey and I’ll let you take me on a date.” And with a gentle kiss to his masked cheek, you fully broke away from the other half of your soul. 

He jumped onto the ledge of the building you stood atop of. “Just so long as there’s plenty of flies for me to eat.” And as he swung away, your laughter still ringing in his ears, Peter was suddenly glad that there was one person in the world who hated spiders.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @Faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv @black-rose-29 @minedofmoria

Marvel

@andreasworlsboring101 @harleycao @annhells @cruelladejill @lokiandbuckysdoll @pretty-npeach @cakesandtom @beautyb1ade @queer_poncho @everything-is-awesomesauce @bitchy-bi-trash @hc-geralt-23 @wisteriia222 @certifiedhunter @relatednative

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

May I please request something involving Rise!Raph where he confides in the reader that he’s a little insecure about his size when someone calls him “bubble butt”?

Big Teddy Bears Are The Best (Angst/Fluff)

Rise!Raphael x reader

A/N: Gotta show Raphie and his beautiful size some love❤️

Warnings: Insecurities about size, cat calling, expression of insecurities.

There was no doubt in Raph’s mind - you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. Ever since you had gained knowledge about him and his brothers, you had always been there for them. A close friend that they could always count on, always ready to help with whatever they needed. The fact that you were so calm and helpful when taking care of him and his family, made Raph’s head calm yet his heart flutter. It didn’t take long before he started developing feelings for you. You were absolutely amazing.

But if there was one day better than the day Raph met you, was the day the two of you got together. It was like a dream come true for the snapping turtle. To be able to hold you close and call you his.

But there were times where Raph would get… insecure, is probably the right way to put it. You were a beautiful human. The prettiest Raph had ever seen. There were times he still couldn’t believe you were real, and not just an amazing dream come true. And he… yeah, he was what he was. A big, large, mutant snapping turtle, so large that his hand was as big as your head. There were times where he would spend much of this time, thinking about it, feeling his insecurities nag inside of him. That gave way to many questions, that just wouldn’t leave him alone. What did you see in him? How could you love someone like him? Would you want to stay with him?

But whenever you would enter the room, all those worries would fall away, lightning up Raph’s state once more, as he would hold you close and let you pepper his face with kisses, the same way he would with you. He would remember the nickname you had given him, exactly because of his large size - teddy bear. Your teddy bear. Words you would tell him, before embracing him in another loving hug. Truly the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Together, you and Raph would frequent many places together, hand in hand on many wonderful and amazing dates, that the two of you would remember forever. In the disguise of human clothing, you would bring Raph with you out around New York City, or Raph would bring you with him down to the Hidden City. So far neither you or Raph had experienced any problems with that. Your dates had always gone smoothly, providing you with the time together that the both of you held so dear. During these dates, Raph would be too occupied to worry about his size or nature. Well, that was until the two of you took a stroll around Central Park.

Hand in hand, you and Raph walked together through the park, laughing and smiling at whatever conversation you were in, with not a worry in the world. That was until a group of three women came by in the opposite direction. Their eyes were locked on Raph, taking in his towering height with awe. Raph grew uneasy, feeling their eyes on him. For a moment he feared that he hadn’t brought his hood up high enough, and that they had noticed his turtle-like features. He tried to keep his focus on you, yet out of the corner of his eye, he kept an eye on the staring women as they came closer and closer, just about to pass by the two of you. But then one of them spoke, a teasing smile on her lips as he stared directly at Raph, her words causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

“Looking good there, bubble butt!”

Raph froze but you turned, staring daggers into the woman that had just cat called your boyfriend. One thing was to cat call a person in general, but to do it while they were walking with their partner? They must have lost their minds! You would have run after them and given them a piece of mind, but instead you turned your focus to your boyfriend, who’s spirit seemed to be dampened quite a bit. His gaze was now directed towards the ground, his brow muscles pushed together in a worried expression.

“Raph?”, you asked, holding his hand in your much smaller ones, your thumb stroking his knuckles with loving care. “Raphy bear, are you okay?”

Raph did not answer. Instead his head started flooding with the same insecurities that normally only seemed to take place when he was alone. But with the soft feeling of your thumbs on his hand, he finally brought himself to look you in the eyes, unsure on how to explain the tumult of emotions he was feeling. With a sigh, he finally decided to tell you, realizing there would be no benefit of hiding his thoughts any longer.

“(Y/N)”, Raph said, avoiding your eyes as he spoke, nervousness growing within him, fearing the worst would happen. But he had to say it. He just had to.  “Am I… Am I too big for you?”

You cocked your head in confusion, clearly understanding what he was asking you. “What?”

Raph swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s just… for some time now… I’ve been feeling… I’ve been fearing that I’m too big. That I’m too big for you”. You stared at Raph, your thumbs coming to a halt, your silence causing him to grow even more worried. “(Y/N)? Babe? Please talk to me. I need to know-”.

Before Raph could finish his sentence, you cut him off by wrapping your arms around him, as far as they would go, pulling him in for a tight hug, smiling up at him with that beautiful smile of yours that made him weak in the knees.

“Raph, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me! You’re the sweetest, greatest and most wonderful person I’ve ever met”, you said, resting your chin against his clothes-covered plastron. “And your size? I’ve already told you that you’re my teddy bear, and big teddy bears are the best!”

Your words made Raph’s heart flutter, feeling small tears of happiness press against the back of his eyes. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer against him with a happy sigh.

“I’m so lucky to have you, (Y/N)”, he said, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you so much”.

“I love you too, Raph”, you smiled, pulling him in for a small sweet kiss. “All of you”.

[loveshotzz]

I hope I’m not late for request this🥹:

[inside one muses’s office] with AIRWIY!Steve? And reader give him his first blowjob?🥹

So this one got a little out of hand, but 🥺 I love him and he deserves the best head in the world if you ask me. Thank you for your request! 💕 I hope you like it!

older!steve x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ age gap, new established relationship, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, smidge of size kink, smidge of daddy kink, finger sucking, swallowing.

wc: 2.8k

A/N: This request is apart of my completed series All I Really Want Is You, but can be read as a stand alone. For those that read the series this takes place shortly after chapter ten.

It was supposed to be a nice lunch in his office on your day off. You weren’t supposed to be giving him elevator eyes from the other side of his desk while he complained to you about his day. But no one had warned you about what middle of the work day Steve looked like. Not quite as dishievied as the end of it when he’s checking his mail, but not put together like when you see him leave his house through your bedroom window when the sun is barely touching the sky. More importantly, you didn’t know about the glasses.

The thin silver frames sit perched on the end of his nose with hair that looks like he just started running his hands through it. The slicked back style it began the day in still sticks to some of his auburn locks while the rest develop a crazed mind of their own. He had popped open the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, revealing a matching tank top underneath and the beginnings of the soft dark thatch of hair that covers his chest. His sleeves are rolled up to the middle of his forearms, and the tan he still has left over from the last few days of summer makes his skin look bronzed. The scruff that lines his jaw is thicker today than he’d usually allow too, but that’s because he’d forgotten his razor in your bathroom the last night he slept over. 

God, he was handsome. 

“Wrapping up at the end of a season, especially one where we didn’t make it to the finals has been nightmare, honey.” He rubs his eyes from under his glasses leaning back in his seat. 

He was stressed too.

The leather squeaks with his movements, and your gaze finds its way to his newly revealed waist. His black dress slacks are pulled tight over his thighs, and the silver buckle of his belt gleams when it hits the sun spilling in from his office windows. 

“Just one more week till your vacation,” you remind him gently, your fingers playing with the hem of the sundress and you catch the way his eyes track your movements, wetting his lips.

“One more week till I get to have you all for myself.” He counters, making you giddy at the thought of your first trip together to New York, “enough about my day though. Let me get a better look at this pretty dress you’re wearin’, is it new?” 

There’s heat flickering behind his gaze when he gestures for you to stand in front of him, something a little mischievous in his grin that makes your skin buzz.

“Yeah, I got it at Lost Girls after work the other day. I’d been looking at it for a while through the window, thought I’d do something nice for myself.” Your nerves make you ramble as you get up, but Steve thinks it’s cute. He thinks everything you do is cute.

“It’s really, really nice baby,” he praises when you get in front of him letting his eyes roam all the ways it hugs your curves just right, like it was made custom for your body and his slacks get a little tighter. “You look so beautiful, give me a little twirl.”

Your face burns like it’s the middle of June at his request, and the golden emerald of his eyes get darker from behind his lenses. The air around you both turns electric when your already short hem flutters out around the tops of your thighs, spinning around twice for him, just enough to give a glimpse of the red lace that hugs your ass cheeks underneath. 

“You gonna be wearing this tonight when I pick you up for dinner?” He asks with big hands reaching out for you, begging you to get closer.

“I didn’t know we had plans tonight.” You giggle letting your wedges carry you to the space he made for you between his legs. The cedar and spice of his cologne envelopes your senses when you get close enough for his hands to find the back of your thighs pulling you to him with a squeal.

The whites of his teeth show when he looks up at you with a smile that steals your breath away, squeezing at the soft dough under his palms.

“What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t show you off any chance I got?” The pads of his thumbs swipe against the hem of the lace that meets at the curve of your ass, butterflies in your stomach because you’ll never get used to hearing him say that.

“Yeah, I’ll wear it, handsome.” You agree, making him hum in approval. 

He lets you run your fingers through the soft silk of his hair, silver strands showing themselves to you in a mess of dirty blonde and auburn as you scratch along his scalp. Steve groans at the feeling and it goes straight to your core, his long fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs, leaning his forehead against the soft pudge of your tummy with his eyes closed.

“Fuck,” He mumbles against you, the wheels on his chair roll him closer as his hands grip higher, warm palms finding the dough of your buttcheeks when you scratch at the nape of his neck. 

You watch the way his shoulders slump, the muscles in his body finally starting to unwind from your touch. You want to unwind him more.

“Steve?” His name comes out in just above a whisper, your nerves threatening to get the best of you. 

“Hmm?” He hums in response, too lost in the feeling of your nails dragging over his scalp.

“Let me take care of you.” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tug a little at his roots asking him to meet your gaze. 

“Honey,” It doesn’t sound like a protest, and it doesn’t feel like it either when his nails dig half crescent moons into the backs of your thighs, staring up at you with wide eyes.

You remember the empty hallways on your way up. Everyone was gone for the season, including Richard.

“You’ve been working so hard, you deserve it.” You cup the side of his face, your body buzzing when he leans into your touch. “Will you let me?”

“I - “ Wetting his lips, Steve glances at the door before bringing his attention back to you, “yeah, okay, shit, yeah.”

You hold his heavy lidded gaze with a confidence he’s never seen before as you drop to your knees, the nails that were just in his hair dragging along his thighs and it sends him reeling. He doesn’t know how long you’ve thought about this.

The carpet is rough on your freshly lotioned skin, the bottom hem of your dress pulling up over the tops of your thighs. Leaning back in his chair, the new angle gives him the perfect view down the deep heart shaped neckline of your dress. The necklace he got you on your first date shimmers just above the swell of your breasts and it makes his cock press into the metal of his zipper. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now.

“You want this baby?” His voice comes out gruff when he asks, the gold inside his eyes darkening to something almost black as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You have no idea, just how bad I want it … daddy.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, you punch the air out of his lungs in a low exhale through his nose when you don’t hesitate to start working at the silver of his belt buckle.

“Fuck, you can’t say - ” He huffs out exasperated, contemplating taking a half day so he can spend the rest of it in bed with you. 

Leather squeaks underneath him when he lifts his hips to help you tug his pants down. The hard outline of him strains against his briefs, mouth watering when you notice the darkened spot where he’s already leaking into the black cotton. More confident now, your palms find purchase on the tops of his hairy thighs, leaning forward you let heat of your breath make him twitch, earning a low groan when your lips trail like a ghost behind it.

“Can’t say what?” Your tone drips innocence, your bottom lip tugging down against the covered head of his cock before lifting your gaze with a mischievous smirk, relishing in the sharp inhale he takes through his teeth. 

“I think you’re gonna kill me.” He almost laughs, running a hand over his face. Pushing up his glasses in the process he settles his heavy gaze on you with a lazy grin as they slide down the slope of his nose.

You hum, glossed lips twisting at the corners as you hook your fingers in the elastic of his briefs, giving them a gentle pull to signal what you want. Steve gives it to you without any hesitation, the full weight of his cock slapping against his stomach making your thighs press at the thought of being stretched by it. The pink tip swipes against the hem of his button up that sits rucked up at his belly button and you don’t think you’ll ever be immune to just how big and pretty he is.

“That wouldn’t be very nice of me huh?” you tease looking up at him with a pout.

“Nuh-uh” He mumbles, face crumpling a little watching your fingers try to wrap around the base of him, the tips of them just barely meeting on the other side. The grip he has on the armrest of his chair, stretches his skin so tight the whites of his knuckles start to show.

“And, I wanna be nice,” he feels like velvet in your hand, the pad of your thumb tracing the large vein that runs up the side, before swiping over his sensitive head. You collect what he’s already given to you with enough pressure to make his toes curl inside his wingtip dress shoes.  

Leaning forward, you slowly let your tongue run the length of him, feeling the way he twitches against the muscle before paying extra attention to what’s weeping for you, swirling your tongue around the tip. Salty and little sweet from the way he drinks his coffee in the morning, you hum pleased when he hits your taste buds. 

“God, honey.”

You don’t give him any warning when you wrap your lips around him, a greedy tongue flattening along the underside. Gagging when he hits the back of your throat, you still try to open up just a little more, your hand keeping up with what you can’t reach.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve’s jaw goes slack, eyelids growing too heavy to keep open at the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His head pushes further into his chair while he fights to keep his hands from flying to the back of yours.

Scooting closer, you feel him spread his legs even more, and your hand that’s not wrapped around the base of his cock, slides down his thigh. The blunt ends of your nails dragging through the rough curls that cover it.

“That’s - that’s so - shit, you’re making me feel so fucking good.” He grunts, finally working up enough strength to pry his eyes open to get a look at what he’s dreamed of a million times alone in the shower. “Always so good to me baby.”

You moan at his words, the praise drowning out the dull throb in your knees from the hard floor, and your throat opens up just a little more, the tip of your nose a ghost against his thick happy trail.

“You like that?” The tone he uses is deep, like someone laced the honey it’s always had for you with cinnamon. “You like when I tell you how good you are?”

Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck even harder, the wetness between your legs only getting worse when he lets out a strangled groan. You slowly work up the length of his cock with tight lips, before releasing him with a loud ‘pop’. For a second Steve thinks he might add more to the shining mess that covers your face, spit still connecting your chin to his sensitive head. 

You drag your teeth over your swollen bottom lip, his dark eyes tracking the movement when it pops back into place, twitching in your hand that hasn’t stopped pumping him. He thinks he likes this better than your gloss. You nod in response with a smile and he can’t believe is a little shy. 

Leaning forward, he wipes your chin with his thumb before tracing where your teeth just were with the pad of it. His eyes darken even more when your mouth opens, strawberry lips wrapping around him with no hesitation.

Yeah, you’re going to kill him. 

“Fuck, look at you,” He pushes down on your tongue, watching the way your thighs press under your dress sucking on the digit with the same force. “I’m so lucky.”

You moan around him, the motions of your wrist getting faster, and the urge to taste him becomes unbearable. With a gentle scrap of your teeth you let go of his thumb, pushing up on your knees to beg for a kiss. The wheels of his chair clink against the hinges when he eagerly accepts your request, one of his hands finding the back of your neck pulling you closer to lick into your mouth without a second thought. 

Your teeth scrape together, tongues battling for dominance while the stubble that lines his jaw threatens to rub your skin raw, but you don’t care. The inside of your thighs start to get sticky and the large vein that runs up the side of his cock pulses against your palm with the need for your attention. It’s the only thing that can get you to pull away from his lips that won’t stop devouring yours.  

It’s with new determination that you take him back into the heat of his mouth, doing your best to take him deeper down your throat than before. He moans your name loud enough that you’re sure anyone in this part of the building would hear if they were actually in their offices. He lets a big hand find the back of your head this time, while both of yours find the tops of his thighs. 

Your cheeks hollow again while your tongue wraps around as much as you can get, more spit, more slick to bob in rhythm with the thrusts of his hips. The tip of him catches at the back of your throat, and the way it squeezes his head when your reflex hits makes his toes curl, fingers burying themselves in your hair to keep you there.

“Oh, that’s - that’s it- take the whole thing. Shit. You’re gonna make me cum baby. Just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop. Good girl, good girl.” 

Each snap of his hips gets as desperate as his babbling, like he’s completely forgotten he’s still at work. One of your hands leaves his thigh to cup his balls that have been screaming for attention since the moment you walked into his office in that dress. Rolling them in your palm is the final touch that makes his vision go white behind his eyes, body tensing and face going slack just like his jaw. 

“Baby, baby, baby.”

Twitching, he spills hot down the back of your throat and you try to swallow as much of it as you can before it dribbles down your chin, dripping onto your chest. His full weight falls back onto his chair, the wheels it’s on moving just enough to have him slide half soft from the warm velvet of your mouth. He tasted even better than you’d imagined, promising yourself you were going to do this again to him after dinner. 

Chest heaving, a breathy laugh escapes him, and the hand that was buried in your hair runs through his before his eyes open up back to their normal golden brown. His cheeks flush pink when he gets a look at the mess he made of you, and it only deepens when you collect the spend that found its way to the swell of your breasts with the pads of your fingers before sucking them clean.

“I think I’m gonna take a half day.”

[remedyturtles]

not a single person here who's worthy

@tmnt-write-fight gift fic for @duckythetoddscout for their first prompt:

Batman crossover- Dick Grayson (any age), or any other batkids really, meeting the turtles. Any iteration.

wordcount: 2844

this is the absolute peak of self indulgence, as i've been into batfam for over ten years, so this prompt sung to me. i really hope you like where i took this haha :) title from idle worship by paramore. warnings for kinda panic attack but otherwise nothing big.

[]

If asked, Leo would claim that he'd borrowed one of Donnie's tablets so he could watch deep-dive video essays.

And he did. Sometimes. But mostly, he'd poked Donnie into info-dumping about the different tracking apps he'd developed so Leo could set it up and watch for anything... weird.

It was a totally normal reaction. Even though he'd had to listen to Donnie explain that blah blah blah mathematical model of a four dimensional continuum measuring relativistic effects -- whatever. What mattered was, Donnie had a map of New York corresponding to a graph of time-space-junk, and if it spiked, shit was happening. And it was so totally normal of Leo to sleep with that graph playing on the tablet next to his head. Just to make sure that nothing weird was going on. Right?

Yeah. Right. So totally normal. Which was why he told absolutely no one about his quiet little obsession, and why he more often than not laid awake staring at the screen instead of sleeping.

He'd grown used to the little anomalies, after sneaking out multiple times to check on blips. He'd yet to find any connection, whether it was latent mystic energies or some weird science thing due to gravity, he had no idea. Leo stopped having an irrational lurch of panic in his stomach at the small fluctuations on the screen. However it did not prepare him for the huge spike he saw at two thirty in the morning when he should've been sleeping after a long night of patrol. He'd almost convinced himself to fall asleep, too, when the screen suddenly lit in a red flare twenty times the size of any anomaly he'd seen so far, right in middle of Soho.

Leo's blood went cold. His brain ran through multiple possibilities, as his body moved, grabbing his swords and lighting up in an instant -- portalling directly to the coordinates.

The air was sparking when Leo emerged. Crackling pops of electricity fluttering to the ground. And despite what Leo's brain was anticipating, there was no pink fleshed aliens, there was no mechanical suits lit with red, there was only a groan from the rooftop, distinctly human and annoyed.

For a too-long moment, Leo's brain sprinted to catch up with his body, as he'd left his sense in the sewers. He was still wearing the hoodie he'd slept in and his swords were cooling down from his frantic portal. He was barely awake, despite the stop-start surge of panic, and it was damn lucky that there wasn't some alien waiting here for him, as he was woefully unprepared. And alone. What had he thought he was going to do?

"Well, shit." The person laying on the roof said. He was crackling with his own electricity, sparks fading slow, and appraising Leo with a watchful eye.

Which. Now that Leo was pivoting to the human beside him, was dressed quite… unique. A black body suit, with blue stripes arching finger to finger over his shoulders. And a mask on his face, hiding his eyes completely, with a head of dark hair. When Leo looked at him, he grinned. 

"Hi. Are you the welcoming committee?" The stranger asked. 

"I'm…" Leo shook his head, gathering his bearings, and extended his sword out to face the intruder. "Something like that. Who are you? Where did you come from?"

Bemusedly, the stranger raised his hands up, showing himself unarmed. "I'm not recognizable? Have I landed somewhere that doesn't have heroes?"

Heroes. Leo's hand shook for a moment, as his body struggled to keep the sword up. That was a concept Leo really didn't want to think about, especially not at two in the morning when he'd been scared half to death thinking for a split second that the Kraang had returned and he was a failure to everyone who ever had the misfortune of believing in him. 

"That's… we don't have anyone like you." Leo decided to answer, instead of claiming himself to be one. 

"Is everyone in this universe green?" The hero asked, cheerful about it. Even though Leo could tell he was still sizing him up, shifting into a better position. 

"Not many." Leo said, flat. "Mostly human. Like you are, I'm assuming."

"Human. Unless you ask my brother after I've subjected him to the fifth Disney movie in a row, at which point I'm apparently considered a monster. Any chance we could lower the sword now? I'm promise I'm one of the good guys. Here, let me introduce myself. I'm Nightwing." Heedless of the sword, Nightwing stuck out his hand to shake. 

Leo juggled conflicting desires, wanting to stay on guard versus wanting to play along and gain information, and compromised by lowering the sword but not taking the hand.

Nightwing didn't actually seem to expect him to, pulling away just to lean back on his palms and look at the skyline. "Woah, is this New York? It's been ages since I've been here, but you don't forget that view."

"Where are you from, then?" Leo prodded, keeping his sword at his side, ready. Tense. Feeling small and kind of stupid in the hoodie that was too big for him with the effortless sheen of the costume before him. 

"Gotham City."

"Never heard of it."

"Strike two for alternate dimension. That's fine. I won't be here long anyway." 

"No?" Leo wondered.

Nightwing seemed to be enjoying the view, unbothered by his armed welcoming party and no longer sparking with energy. "We were fighting a gentleman who installed a dimension hopper into his weaponry, so there's contingency plans in place. As soon as my family is done kicking his ass they'll swing by and pick me up. I give them… twenty minutes. Maybe half an hour, if Babybird and Little D get arguing without me to break it up."

Leo couldn't help but glance around at the scenery, trying to see what had enraptured the hero so much. All he could focus on was the construction cranes and the holes in the skyline where they'd lost infrastructure during the invasion. If Nightwing truly hadn't been to New York in a long time, maybe he didn't know the difference. Or maybe it was different in his universe altogether. 

"Your whole family are heroes?" Leo asked instead.

"Everyone of them." Nightwing's mouth twitched at the corner. "Even the ones who maybe should've waited a little longer before getting into the family business, but who am I to judge?"

Leo got the impression he'd been doing the gig a long time himself, just from the lazy grace that he carried in the suit. Reluctantly, he let the swords relax at his sides completely.

"Those are beautiful katannas." Nightwing complimented. 

"Thanks." Leo said reflexively. He held up the blades, marvelling for a moment how the ninpo markings disappeared and left no trace.

"You popped over here pretty quick. I wasn't expecting my appearance to make any waves. The last time this happened I ended up taking a nap on a beach for a couple hours. Welcoming committee, protector of the universe, whatever you wanna call it." 

Leo was already shaking his head. "That's not me. I just… I stole some of my brother's tech and I was just watching for any time-space bullshit and caught the wave you made. So I portalled over to make sure it wasn't something coming to take over the world, or whatever. It's stupid."

"Doesn't sound stupid." Nightwing smiled at him, and it kinda hurt for some reason. "Well, hey, you better stick around and make sure I don't take over the world in the probable-twenty-five minutes I spend in this universe. Have a seat, kid, pull up some roof." 

"I'm not a kid." Leo protested, but slowly lowered himself to sit, folding his swords over his knees and tugging at the edge of his big hoodie. 

"You're what, seventeen?" Nightwing guessed, right on the money without even trying. "Same age as my second youngest brother, though he's probably a bad example on what does and does not constitute a kid since he was briefly the world's youngest CEO of a multi-billion dollar company. The point is, I'm twenty-four, and I've been doing this hero biz for more than half my life, and I can give you some hot tips if you want."

"I'm not a hero." Leo immediately denied, tongue feeling big in his mouth and heart going too-fast. 

"You don't need a fancy suit to be a hero. You just need to show up when things need protecting." Nightwing gestured at him. "And look at that! Here you are."

"Not me." Leo's face burned and he didn't want this guy to get the wrong idea. "Maybe my brothers are heroes, but I'm the screw up. I'm just trying to… make up for my mistakes." 

"Ah." Nightwing's smile tinted a new colour. Shaded sad. "Listen, kid. What's your name?"

"I don't have a superhero name like yours." Leo said. 

"Hell, there's no secret identity to protect here. My real name is Dick. Well, Richard. But my friends call me Dick." 

Oh come on. Leo had to do it. He quirked a little smile and asked, "How do you get Dick from Richard?"

"You ask nicely!" Dick crowed, delighted. "Oh, thank you! No one ever sets me up for that one anymore."

Leo chuckled, shoulder loosening, and said, "It's Leonardo. Just Leo is fine though."

"Da Vinki?" Dick memed in a pretend gasp. 

He couldn't help but laugh again. "Yeah, that's me. All my brothers and I are named after renaissance artists. Or, alternatively, by our colour coding. So I'll answer just as fast to 'blue'."

"Hell yeah blue." Dick wiggled his blue finger stripes at him. "Got a red brother? Mine is a pain in the ass. I love him but if he 'borrows' my motorbike without asking one more time I'm gonna make origami out of his classic lit collection."

"Red brother, yeah. That's Raph. I'm probably more of a pain to him than he is to me. And he's not into books, that's Donnie. Books and tech." 

"Ah, tech is all Tim. The walking contradiction – genius level IQ who dropped out of high school. Picture a kid skateboarding in a suit to his board meetings. Though I'm not sure what colour we'd assign to him now, probably yellow since Jason's got a pretty firm hold on red." Dick tapped off his fingers, looking fond. 

Leo hummed and said, "Yeah, Don's purple, and my youngest isn't yellow but orange. Mikey's like that too – bright like the sun. Loves with everything he has. Joy and warmth and all that."

Dick burst out laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach, and dramatically wiped a tear away. "Oh, boy, yeah. No. The similarities very much end there. Our youngest is a baby assassin who we have to remind daily that he cannot maim people for minor inconveniences. But he's doing great, really. He's come so far from where he started. And despite the severe exterior, he really loves animals and art."

"Hey, there's something. Mike loves art. Actually, do you wanna see? I've got pictures on my phone." Leo tapped his foot at top speed, a little excited, because he never got to interact with normal people who didn't already know Mikey and get the opportunity to show off his talent like this. 

"Hell yeah I do." Dick shuffled closer, leaning in to see his phone and exclaiming over the bright pieces Leo had treasured in his camera roll. Then Dick showed off some remarkably lifelike pencil art pieces done by his youngest brother on his own phone, as well as the zoo of animals apparently he kept. Including a cow? 

"Are you the oldest?" Leo asked, when Dick made a comment about 'all his baby siblings'.

"I am. There's more of us, a couple sisters and another brother, but I'm the oldest of all of them." Dick didn't seem too concerned. "Let me guess, you're the second oldest?"

"Depends on what order my twin and I are deciding on for the day, but yeah. Raph's the oldest." Leo said with a shrug. 

"That makes sense." Dick said. 

Leo scowled and tried to elbow him. "What makes you say that?"

Dick dodged effortlessly and huffed. "You remind me of my second oldest brother. He feels like he has a lot to prove. And no idea that we don't need him to prove it, we'd just rather he was there."

Leo wrinkled his nose. "Dude. Come on. You don't have to put me on blast like that."

"Sorry." Dick laughed. "I'm a detective. And I'm really bad at turning it off, especially when I jump into a alternate dimension faced with a kid in a hoodie and a sword who's shaking way too hard to be doing okay."

Shit. That was a bad first impression. Leo groaned and covered his face with his hands. 

"Can I ask you one thing, though?" Dick wondered. 

"Might as well. Dig the knife in." Leo mumbled. 

"Why did you come alone? If your brothers are more like heroes than you, why is it just you in the middle of the night?"

"I wasn't thinking." Leo said, too quick, and it wasn't really the truth. He sighed. "I told you, I'm just trying to make up for my mistakes. They… they didn't need to be dragged into this if I could just fix it myself." 

"Hm. Well, get ready for the hot tip, because once I'm in big brother mode there's no stopping me. I told you that being a hero is showing up when people need protecting, but being a hero for a long time is not showing up alone. You shouldn't be wandering around New York by yourself to face an unknown threat, especially if you're not ready for it." Dick leaned in closer, rather serious. 

Leo shook his head, annoyed, turning away and tugging at the end of his sleeve. "Now you're really reminding me of Raph. Now all you need is a hot temper."

"Oh, believe me, I've got that too." Dick winked, but there was a severity that rang true. "But that's not necessary in this moment. If I'm your Raph and you said that you're more of a pain to him than he is to you, then yeah, you're my Jason. But listen. I don't care that Jason's made mistakes. Because that kid suffered more than anyone could believe, but he came back to us, and he is trying. And there's no amount of pain that he could cause me that would ever eclipse how much more I love him."

That was… seriously uncomfortably close to his own experiences. Just thinking about the idea of suffering sounded a lot like the snap of a portal closing him into hell. And coming back from it, and trying to be the hero he never could. 

"You don't have to prove anything to them." Dick said, quietly. "They'd just rather you were there. And if your tech brother is half as good as mine, he probably knew the moment the energy spiked and I bet they're wondering where you are."

It was that moment that Leo realized he'd left his phone in his bedroom, plugged in and charging, and if they had been trying to contact him he'd have no idea. He groaned and covered his face again. "Shit."

"Go home." Dick said. "My ride'll be here any minute." 

"Yeah. Yeah." Leo shook his head, like he was trying to shake out the cobwebs. There was no way Donnie hadn't realized what he was doing with the tablet now, he was going to have some explaining to do, especially at the part where he ran off to deal with a threat entirely alone without telling anyone where he was going. He gave Dick a sideways glance and said, "Your Jason loves you too, you know. He's stealing your motorbike so you'll have to talk to him. We always listen more when you're yelling because that's when we think you're telling the truth."

"Maybe I'll yell at him more how much I love him, then." Dick shrugged, amused. "Get it through his thick skull."

"Thanks for being patient." Leo said, and realized in that moment he probably really needed to verbalize that one to Raph. 

"Thanks for coming home." Dick replied, sadder. 

Behind them, the rooftop shimmered with a different portal.

"Ah, great timing. They're early, someone must've gotten antsy." Dick grinned, hopping up to his feet with an acrobatic stretch. "Hey, Leonardo?"

"Yeah?" Leo said, getting up too.

"It was great to meet another hero." Dick saluted, approaching his portal.

Leo's mouth was dry. He nodded back, and said with a small croak, "Yeah. You too."

He watched until Dick disappeared. Then before he could summon his own portal, he heard three voices gasp, "Leo!" before he was tackled to the ground. 

His hands were shaking again as he held onto them. He didn't really have to go home, when home came to him.

[waynes-multiverse]

Rehab – Epilogue

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, some crack, a bit of fluff and angst, hard decisions, a lot of goodbyes & all the feels

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: We're here, babes! End of the road! Thank you guys so much for everything. This was a wild ride, and I'm glad I had you in my passenger's seat 💚

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Chapter 8 || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Epilogue: twin flame

You’re gonna be nowhere The loneliest kind of lonely It may be rough goin’ Just to do your thing’s the hardest thing to do…

“Morning.” Y/N smiles brightly as he stirs and slowly wakes. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

Blue eyes flutter open and fearfully widen, his brow scrunches in confusion as he looks around and scans his environment. He tries to wiggle free of the handcuffs around his wrists, keeping him tied to the metal bed frame.

Not that it matters – he can’t leave either way.

She turns off the radio with a blissful sigh. “You know, that was one of his favorite songs. Your father’s,” she clarifies. “He sang it all the time. It was fucking annoying.”

“Why the hell can’t I move? Get me the fuck out of here,” the man in a sky-blue hospital gown demands and lifts his head off the mattress, only a few inches, attempting to get up.

Needless to say, that attempt is futile and fails miserably.

“Don’t strain yourself, John, or you might shit the bed. And I ain’t cleaning that mess… You’ve been in a coma for three weeks,” Y/N tells him with an amused smile. “Oh, and you can’t move because you’re paralyzed from the waist down. I even doubt that meager dick’s still working.”

His nostrils flare and let out a huff. “It’s Homelander, you bitch. No one calls me by that name.”

“Yeah, not anymore.” Y/N twitches her shoulders in mock apology. Her mouth curves into a Machiavellian grin. “Scared yet?”

“Where the fuck am I?” he growls through gritted teeth, upset by her blatant disrespect.

“You’re at a rehab facility for former supes. I mean, it’s discontinued. Abandoned, really. It’s just you and me,” she replies flatly and then forces a customer-service smile to her lips. “So, guess I’ll be your nurse for the day. How are we doing, you–”

Her brow furrows as she tries to remember the exact words, pensively pursing her lips.

“Wait…” She holds up a finger to stop him from interrupting her as she fishes out a crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. She squints her eyes in concentration as she skims over its content.

“Ah yes!” With a smile, she clears her throat and reads from her paper. “So, how are you doing, you bootlicking… carpet-munching… cockboy?”

Homelander frowns at the insults. Y/N does too, but for a different reason as she shakes her head.

“Jesus fucking Christ, your dad’s handwriting is an atrocity,” she mutters as she tilts her head with narrowed eyes at the paper in her hands.

The blond man’s eyes narrow in both shock and confusion. “How do you know my father?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m his wife,” Y/N says and smiles complacently. “Which technically makes me your step-mommy, but let’s not go there, you–… Wait.” She peeks once more at the paper in her hands. “You cumguzzling… cowfucking… cuck fluffer.” Her brow draws up, impressed. “Huh, nice. Little alliteration going on there. Guess all those books paid off…”

“Can we skip to the part where you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Homelander snaps impatiently, annoyed with the shenanigans.

“Alright, your dad sent me here to, you know… gloat,” Y/N says simply and shrugs, flashing him an easy smile. “He wanted you to know that he’s the one that put you into this damn bed. Funnily enough, he once woke up in this very room, tied to a bed. Not in a kinky way, though. Although, he probably would’ve loved that…” She chuckles fondly. “This place really changed him, but I doubt it’ll do the same for you.”

“And why the fuck isn’t he here telling me this, huh?” John asks with a challenging look. “I didn’t reckon him for a fucking coward.”

Y/N’s facade cracks a little at his words, a vicious smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, he was not a coward. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was and is a fucking hero and surely getting celebrated as one.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and grabs the remote from the bedside table, switching on the TV. A news report flickers across the screen. It’s a recording from a few weeks ago, but Homelander doesn’t know that. It shows a row of celebratory parades held all over the country. A statue of Soldier Boy is being erected next to the Statue of Liberty.

Homelander finally defeated. Soldier Boy dies a hero in fierce combat. America breathes a sigh of relief.

Homelander watches the news and reads the taglines as they scroll in front of his eyes. His mouth is agape in bewilderment before Y/N switches the television off again.

“Everyone loves him… and fucking hates you. Like spit-on-your-grave hate,” she summarizes and watches his face darken. She rises from her seat and smiles down at him. “Have a nice life chained to that bed till you rot to death, you dickfaced, inbred, garbage-eating fascist.”

With a wide smirk, she then leans down and whispers into his ear, “Those were my insults, by the way.”

“Well, he’s dead, and I’m fucking alive, which means I won,” Homelander snarls from the bed with a contrivedly triumphant sneer, rattling with his handcuffs. He’s close to an explosion, she can tell.

“Yeah, you’d be telling yourself that if it makes you feel better…”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turns her back. As she marches out of the room, Homelander’s furious screams of agony haunt the clinic’s empty hallways, but there is no one here to hear them anymore.

Project Bloom has been disbanded. There’s only a handful of CIA nurses left, tasked to take care of Homelander until his hopefully slow and painful death. If someone decides to hold a pillow over his head at any point, she supposes she wouldn’t be that mad about it either.

Homelander is history. Soldier Boy is dead. And Ben is at rest.

Finally, Y/N can leave this godforsaken place behind her.

Y/N slides into the driver’s seat of her Prius, her head falling back as she exhales a long, exhaustive breath and rubs her temples. That damn brat gave her a fucking migraine with his whiny bitching.

“Finally,” it huffs from the backseat. “Took you long enough. How the fuck did it go?”

Y/N blinks into the rearview mirror and catches a set of expectant green eyes. Her hand drops from her temples as she chuckles.

“Your handwriting is horrible,” she says as a response and pulls out the paper, pointing at a word. “What the hell is that one?”

Ben leans forward between the seats and squints his eyes. “Mmh, pube flosser,” he supplies and frowns. “You didn’t use that one?”

Y/N sighs. “I think he’s got the gist without it.”

“Yeah, but that was a good one,” Ben mumbles and sighs disappointedly. “Did you play him the song?”

“Yes, I did. I played him the song and did everything else you wanted me to do,” she confirms patiently. “You know, you’ve got a weird knack for torture.”

“Thank you. It’s a gift.” Ben blushes and adjusts his baseball cap. “Did you sell it properly? You know, acting is a skill. The most important thing is to–”

“Ben! For the love of God, shut up or I’ll run you over with my car,” Y/N snaps. If he gives her one more acting lesson, she swears she’ll turn herself a widow.

“Fine.” Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes back. “Did he fucking buy it?”

“Yup, he surely thinks you’re dead. Like the rest of the world,” Y/N says and shoots him a smile over her shoulder.

He matches it and scratches his shaved chin, letting himself fall back into the seat. “Good. So, we’re done, right?”

“Yeah, he was the last stop on our list,” she replies quietly, her smile mixing with sadness. “How’s the arm?”

“Good, good…” He nods, his head bobbing thoughtfully as he clutches the scar on his right bicep. “Healing nicely. Finally got a real war wound. Always wanted one.”

“Okay, then… Let’s go, I guess.” With a heavy swallow, Y/N turns the ignition and starts the car.

“You know, I’d really love to kiss you now,” Ben notes, heartache swinging in his voice, and finds her eyes in the rearview mirror.

Y/N bites down on her lip and nods. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice…”

Three weeks ago…

A guard gestures down the hallway to the restrooms, but as soon as Y/N rounds the corner and is out of sight, she takes a turn in the opposite direction.

The good thing about a super secret government facility that’s not supposed to exist is that it only comes with the necessary manpower. There’s no abundance of guards at every corner. It’s quiet and desolate.

Moreover, no one expects a silly and weak human to cause any trouble. It surely has its advantages to be constantly underestimated.

Y/N finds the lab she’s passed on their way in, where she spied a glass fridge with vials of different colors. It’s guarded, but only by one person. It’s sloppy, honestly.

A flirty ambush, a stab to the neck with a dull pocket knife, a stolen keycard, and she’s inside. She drags the body in, too, leaving no trace of her crime behind.

Her fingers rummage through differently labeled flasks. There’s plenty of blue and yellow, but not the poisonous green she’s looking for.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” she mutters to herself as she desperately searches every drawer, every goddamn cabinet of the laboratory.

Out of breath, she stops and grips her temples, shoulders slumping as her mind spins. She wants to curse and scream, but that would draw too much attention. She knows she’s running out of time. No one takes that long to fucking pee. Decisions have to be made quickly.

She grabs a blue vial.

Rolling down her sleeves, she walks nervously back into the control room. Neither Mallory nor Edgar pays her any mind. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Soldier Boy and Homelander. Father and son. It’s biblical.

It’s as if she isn’t even there.

Her veins twitch, her blood boils. It’s tingling in her fingertips.

“Little help would be fucking appreciated!” Ben yells as he wrangles with a defunct Homelander.

Stan Edgar’s smile. So vicious. So cold. So calculating.

She knows the air in the room is about to shift. Her hands ball into fists by her side, gather their energy.

He gives his command. She screams.

“No! That wasn’t the fucking deal!”

Edgar doesn’t even look at her fully. A sideways glance is all she’s worth. “Take her out, too.”

Mallory sees it first, her eyes widening when she realizes what’s going on. It’s too late to warn anyone, however, her cries for help unheard as the acid rots her throat.

Edgar and two guards are next, metal weapons melt and mix with a puddle of human soup on the ground. Then, she goes after the one that got away.

The third guard hurries inside the prison cell, but Y/N slips through the crack of the door before it slams shut. The first gunshot goes clean through Homelander’s spine, but the second is deterred and only strikes Ben’s arm as the guard bubbles to a pond, a hot spring in the concrete.

Ben clutches his bleeding wound with a hiss before his green eyes lock with hers. They widen, and it takes him a moment to make sense of it all.

“Y/N, what–”

He takes a step forward. She takes a step back.

“Don’t come near me,” she orders him with panic blinking in her eyes like a flashing alarm. Her chest rises and falls with every anxious breath.

He holds his palms up high, surrendering. “It’s okay.”

Ben carefully walks around her and steps over the bubbling human puddle on the floor. He peeks outside the door, purses his lips, and nods in impressed satisfaction.

“Those little blobs outside–”

Y/N bobs her head at his unfinished question. “Mallory and Edgar plus two guards,” she replies.

“Nice job.” He whistles lowly and shoots her a devilish grin, taking a step closer. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more turned on by you. I’m getting fucking hard.”

“Ben!” Y/N scolds and backs away from him until she’s pressed against the wall. “I told you, don’t touch me,” she warns him again.

Ben’s smile fades as he recognizes her fear. His features soften, the jokes disappear. “Hey, it’s alright. Twenty-four hours and you’ll be fine again. Just gotta get through it.”

Y/N shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ben’s brow knits in confusion, his face stern.

“What-… Why are you shaking your head?”

A tear escapes and streaks her cheek. “It won’t go away in twenty-four hours,” she chokes out. “They were out of Temp V.”

Ben’s face drops at the realization. “No, no, no… Tell me you didn’t fucking do this!” he yells.

“They were going to kill you! What was I supposed to do?” Y/N explains tearfully.

“Die, Y/N! You were supposed to let me fucking die!” Ben’s jaw tightens as anger surges through his body.

“I didn’t let you die the first time! What made you think I would let you fucking die right now, huh?” Y/N cries through gritted teeth, her hands balling into fists. “Stop trying to kill yourself. You fucking promised me!”

Licking his lips, Ben swallows. He’s quiet, running a palm over his face while his mind races a mile a minute. “Okay… alright,” he says finally, his voice significantly calmer now. “Where did you get the Compound V from?”

“There’s a lab here,” she replies in the same calm manner.

“They got more?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ben nods and finds her eyes. “Show me.”

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head once more. “No.”

His anger returns, nostrils flaring as his brow creases. “What d’you mean no?”

She swallows thickly. “Look, if you really wanna do this, then I won’t stop you,” she says, a pleading glimmer haunting her eyes. “But you finally got a chance. You can live the normal, boring life. You can go on road trips, see Mount Rushmore… I know you want to.”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and averts his gaze. He pinches the bridge of his freckled nose, and Y/N can see that she’s right.

“I’m not even sure if I want powers,” she continues after a pause. “But at least this time it was my choice. And I don’t regret it if it means I got to save you, okay?”

When Ben finally looks at her, it breaks her heart. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile. “I know… And you won’t be. I promise.”

Their attention is then temporarily drawn to a groan on the ground. Y/N’s brow furrows as she looks at Homelander’s body and notices his fingers twitching.

“Is he still alive?”

“Looks like it,” Ben replies. But as Y/N gets ready to take care of the problem, he stops her, holding out his flat palm. “Wait, wait, wait… Judging by the wound, he’s gonna be a fucking vegetable. It’s a waste of a kill.” He then grins mischievously at her. “I’ve got a better fucking idea. The other question is: how the fuck do we get outta this place… alive?”

Y/N’s mouth opens, but she doesn’t have an answer aside from a helpless shrug for him. This is as far as she has planned. Actually, she hasn’t planned any of this at all.

“I might be able to help with that,” a woman’s voice sounds behind her.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she recognizes the newcomer, her mouth parting anew in both surprise and shock. Ben, on the other hand, furrows his brow and glares at the stranger as if she had just spoken Russian.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ben prompts and then leans closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear, “Kill her.”

Y/N frowns, but her eyes are glued to the young woman in front of her, the familiarity sinking in. “I can’t,” she grits through her teeth.

“Why the fuck not?” Ben asks now loud enough for everyone to hear, including their guest.

“Because I’m the president,” the woman replies, smiling complacently. “And an old friend.”

Ben’s brow creases even more. “President of what? Cunt-town?”

“The United States, Ben,” Y/N tells him flatly. If she could kick his leg right now, she would. Leave it to her husband to get them both killed.

“Wait, a skirt is president?” Ben arches an eyebrow and mutters, “No wonder this country’s going to shit…”

“Charming,” Victoria Neuman says with a small sigh, but seemingly unbothered by the old-school views. Much like Y/N, she ignores the comment and doesn’t take offense to it. “I can see why you married him,” she adds wryly, looking at Y/N.

“Technically, she wasn’t elected. She was Vice President till President Singer died… accidentally,” Y/N explains, knowing Ben only reads the paper for the sports section and the comic strip. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, her heart thrashing wildly in her chest.

“Ah, I know what that’s code for.” Ben smirks coolly. “Bold move. I can fucking respect that.”

“Yeah, God knows some old fuck’s approval is what I’m looking for,” Neuman taunts, the sarcasm dripping from her red-painted lips.

Ben’s face drops as a bit of anger bubbles up inside of him. That bitch is lucky he’s V-free. He forces a tight-lipped smile. “I’m just saying I would’ve done the same thing, okay?”

“No offense, but you’re too much of a moron for that,” Neuman replies dryly.

Ben’s nostrils flare as he grits, “Offense fucking taken.”

“Okay!” Y/N tries to cut the tension with a nervous chuckle, pushing herself between Neuman and Ben. “How about you just tell us what we have to do to get out of this one?”

“See? She’s smart,” Neuman says and smirks at Ben. “I’ve always liked you, Y/N. You know, when Stan and Grace told me their plan of getting you two involved, I warned them. But they just wouldn’t listen. Everyone always underestimates the orphan. I should know, and so do you. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, guess we’re MVP, after all, Nadia,” Y/N says and makes it a point to emphasize her real name.

Victoria just smiles in response. “So, since you took care of two problems for me, one in here and one out there, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?” Y/N knows she’s really out of choices. Either she agrees, or Ben and her will spend the afterlife together.

“I need a new Chief of Staff. I want you to do it. You’re smart, driven, and I know you wanna change shit around here. You wanna make a difference? This is your chance,” Neuman proposes. “You can’t take the cure again. It’s going to kill you. Trust me, we’ve done studies, and the results are not pretty.”

Y/N thinks for a few breaths. “What about Ben?”

“I guess he can live. It’s not like he’s a threat to anyone,” Neuman says and almost sounds bored. “Hell, for all I care, we can even make Soldier Boy a reformed hero for dealing with Homelander. He dies heroically in battle and quietly lives out his retirement in fucking Florida or some shit. We get him a big fucking statue. It’s good publicity.”

Y/N shares a look with Ben. “What d’you think?”

Thoughtfully, Ben clicks his tongue. He supposes it’s the best deal they can get, and declining it would probably get them nowhere, although he hates everything about it.

Swallowing, the former supe nods. “Alright, let’s fucking do this,” he agrees and states his conditions, “But for the record, I’m not moving to shit-ass Florida. I want a nice lake house in Minnesota.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Minnesota it is.”

“You okay? You ready?” Y/N checks as Ben has made it up the stone steps and halts in front of the big, red door.

“I don’t know. You really think this is a good idea? I’m not sure I can do this,” Ben says and insecurely eyes the entrance.

“You’ll do great, alright?” Y/N smiles encouragingly. “I believe in you.”

“I don’t wanna do this alone. What if I fuck up?” Ben asks.

Amused, Y/N chuckles. “Oh, you’re for sure gonna fuck up.”

The green-eyed man scowls. “That’s fucking reassuring. Thanks.”

“Look, this way you won’t be alone. I’ll wire you money every month and check in as much as I can, alright? You can always call me. This isn’t the end,” Y/N soothes his worries. “Maybe one day there’s a cure that’ll work, and we can be together again for real.”

She forces a weak smile to her lips, although she doesn’t believe her own words. But as long as Ben believes them, it’s enough.

“Okay.” Ben nods and takes a deep breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Y/N sends him a smile. “You thought of a new name yet?”

“I’m still marinating on it,” Ben grumbles.

“Well, marinate faster. I have to introduce you.”

As they enter the orphanage, Y/N checks them in at the reception and fills out all necessary forms. Ben taps his foot nervously and scratches the back of his neck as they wait before one of Y/N’s former colleagues walks in with a little boy in hand, who’s no older than five.

Ben tries to smile but isn’t sure if it looks creepy, so he stops and opts for a more neutral expression. Y/N, however, immediately kneels down to the young boy and smiles brightly at him. It causes Ben’s heart to ache. She deserved to have all of this, but instead, she gave it all up for him.

“Hey, Benny,” she greets the boy. “You ready to meet your new adoptive parent?”

The boy scrunches his brow in careful suspicion as he eyes his future father-to-be. “I guess so,” he says. “Is that him? He looks like he drives a fucking minivan and offers candy to kids. Are you sure he’s not a pedo, Ms. Y/N?”

Ben purses his lips, biting the insides of his cheeks. The initial smile was definitely a mistake. They’re not off to a good start.

Y/N presses her lips together to muffle her snort. “Yes, Benny, I’m sure,” she replies patiently. “He’s cool, trust me.”

“Fine, whatever.” The kid rolls his eyes. “As long as he’s not fucking vegan like Ms. Teresa. They’re the worst.”

“Ugh, agreed! Do I look like a fucking plant-shitter to you?” Ben asks the boy rhetorically.

“No, you look like a fucking pedo to me,” the boy retorts.

Ben grins broadly at Y/N. “I like the kid. I think I get what you mean now. I see the resemblance.”

“Well, great. Glad you two are hitting it off… I think,” Y/N says with a crinkled brow, although a part of her is doubting her idea. Honestly, it’s wild she’s trusting him with a child. A year ago she would’ve thought that it was insane. “Alright, uh, Benny, this is, uhm–”

“Sam,” Ben proudly introduces himself with his fake name and shakes the kid’s hand. He then notices Y/N’s strange look. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you don’t really strike me as a Sam. That’s all,” she tells him in a whisper-tone, shrugging.

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t give a fuck. I love it,” Ben quips, grinning rather smugly.

“Fine.” Y/N sighs. She turns back to little Ben with a smile. “You guys ready to hit the road?”

“Where are we going?” Benny asks curiously and promptly takes Ben’s hand, dragging the older man through the doors. He’s been waiting to get out of the orphanage for a while, the excitement of finally being able to leave visible in every step he takes.

It’s a fresh start for both of them.

“Uh, Mount Rushmore,” Ben answers.

“Cool! Can we get burgers on the way there? I’m starving.”

“Sure can, kid.”

Y/N can see Ben’s initial hesitance until he eventually accepts it and eases into the situation, holding the boy’s hand tightly. He helps the kid into the car, even puts the seatbelt on, and shuts the door behind him.

Her heart twinges as she watches the two, wishing she could go with them if things were different. However, she knows the risk is too big. She would never forgive herself if she hurt either of them. She doesn’t trust herself enough yet. Maybe someday she can.

“You okay?” Ben asks as he sees the unshed tears brimming in her eyes. He’d dreaded this day for the past few weeks, hoping she’d still change her mind. He hates that this is goodbye, but he supposes he has to set her free now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N says with a forced smile, but a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

“C’mere.”

Y/N protests as Ben slings his arms around her and pulls her flush against him, holding her tightly. He hasn’t touched her since that night, but he doesn’t care anymore. He presses his lips against hers and tastes her one last time.

Breathlessly, Y/N withdraws and sniffles. “Are you fucking insane? I could kill you.”

Ben simply smiles at her. “Hey, if I die kissing you, then that’s a fucking great way to go out. ‘Sides, insanity is contagious,” he quips and sends her a wink. “Thank you… for everything, you know?”

“You’re welcome,” she says quietly and swallows harshly as the tears fall freely now. Not every film has a happy ending. “I guess I’ve done my job as your sponsor. You’ve been successfully rehabilitated.”

Ben snorts. “If by that you mean I’m fucking boring and responsible now then yeah, you’ve done your job.”

“You won’t be bored for long. The kid’s already trying to hotwire the car,” Y/N tells him, laughing.

“Wha–” Ben spins around and points a warning finger at the boy. “Ay! Hands in your fucking lap!”

The kid raises his palms in surrender and yells, “Hurry the fuck up!”

With a shaking head, Ben turns back to her. “Gotta watch that kid like an eagle,” he mutters. He exhales a dreaded breath and licks his lips. “So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

Y/N smiles softly, the corners of her mouth reaching her dimples. “Maybe.”

Little Ben gets me every time 😂 Alright, now you may yell and complain, but I love this bittersweet ending 🥲 (But of course, you're welcome to send in requests. Whether it's deleted scenes, bonus shots of a potential future, or some fun Big Ben/Little Ben drabbles)

Thank you so much for reading, for your gifs and comments! It's so appreciated! Without them, this would only be half the fun ����

I'll announce future plans soon. The final five of Plastic Hearts will probably be next up. Get ready 'cause it's another wild one! 🌟

SIGN UP FOR TAG LISTS HERE!

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28

Series Tags: @nancymcl @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @sparkydonugh

[spiderlinging]

The dreams start the day after the blip. They started out slow, adding Peter in as a reoccurring guest star sprinkled throughout his normal, chaotic dreamscape.

At first Tony just assumed it was the grief that made him see the boy's face each time he closed his eyes, but then the dreams began to evolve and take shape.

Light touches. Lingering glances. A flutter in the pit of his stomach after each and every laugh. He knew the signals, he knew the signs.

Peter developed into the star of the show, the other cast slowly being weeded out over time.

It was never the same dream twice. He would shut his eyes at night, never knowing what to expect. Would they be fighting aliens attacking New York? Would they be curled up on the couch ignoring the movie playing, focusing on exploring each other with fingers and lips?

For the first time, Tony was sleeping every night. He couldn't remember the last time he was clocking a solid 8 hours every night, let alone more. But he was happy in his dreams. His dreams couldn't hurt him. And most importantly, his dreams gave him Peter.

Under the guise of restoring all those lost in the blip, he figured out time travel to bring Peter back. His dreams could become a reality.

But on the battlefield, looking at Peter in full form, Tony's heart shattered. His Peter...the Peter from his dreams he had fallen in love with over the past five years, had a single freckle below his left eye. The boy standing in front of him did not.

Although it was such a minute detail, it meant the world to Tony. This may have been the original Peter, but it was not his Peter Parker.

And when the Infinity Stones spoke to him, instructing him how to fix existence with the gauntlet on his hand, he knew what he had to do. It was with a snap that he made a deal with the universe; one that not only destroyed the enemies on the battlefield but also took him to finally be with his Peter.

[bullet-prooflove]

Socks, coffee and appointments? 🤟🏻

Tagging: @kmc1989 @caffeinatedwoman @maryelizabeth13 @toasted-stiletto @district447

Companion piece to:

The Book Tour - You run into Sam while promoting your new book.

One Night In New York (NSFW) - You and Sam spend the night together in New York.

Six Months - Sam gets a surprise when he returns to Chicago.

Fate - You and Sam were always meant to find each other.

Night Feeds - Sam and you experiance life as new parents.

The baby keeps taking off her socks, Sam has forgotten about this stage of her development. The throwing and retrieving part. His daughter thinks it’s a fabulous game and Sam plays into it because it brings him so much joy to see her little face light up.

“Ah I remember the fetch phase.” Dean Archer says when he opens the door to the doctor’s lounge and steps inside. “I used to spend hours going back and forth with Sean until he fell asleep with the sock in his hand.”

“I think she’s starting to get there.” Sam says as he puts the sock back on Arabelle’s foot for the fiftieth time. She’s starting to settle into the cushioning of her stroller. Her movements are becoming less coordinated, her eye lids fluttering closed despite the fact she’s struggling to keep them open. She always does this, fights sleep. It’s like the world outside is too exciting for her and she doesn’t want to be away from it for a single second. “Elle’s just finishing up an appointment with a client, I thought I’d bring by the baby for lunch but it looks like this little one is going to be fast asleep by the time mommy catches up with us.”

“It suits you, you know?” Dean says with a smile watching Sam interact with the baby. “Being a father again.”

“Don’t tell me it’s making you broody.” Sam says as he puts the other sock back on Arabelle’s foot. “Geriatric parenthood is not for the faint of heart.”

“No, noooo.” Dean says rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “That ship has long set sail. Maybe if we’d met earlier…”

He trails off then because that thought has been on his mind a lot recently, what his life would have been like if him and Isobel had met after his divorce. He wonders if she would have seen what was going on with Sean, if they would have had a couple of kids of their own by now. If he’d have been a different, kinder person in the years that followed instead of the bitter man he’d become for over a decade.

“I used to think the same thing about Elle.” Sam tells Dean as he manoeuvres the stroller into the corner where it’s less stimulating for small children who are almost falling asleep. “It was my only regret when it came to her, that it wasn’t an option but life found away and now we have this little one.”

“And now your family’s complete.” Dean remarks as Sam rearranges the baby blanket around his daughter.

“Yes.” Sam smiles as he chucks Arabelle under the chin. “Yes, it certainly is.”

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[arcane-vagabond]

Road To Perdition: Prologue

Road to Perdition: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

Content Warning: Mentions of alcohol, Allusions to alcoholism, Death of parents, Pessimism, Historical Inaccuracies probably. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: Just under 1.2k

Series Masterlist

Light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting shadows across the walls as your eyes slowly fluttered open. There was a stillness in the air that was all too familiar for those that lived as far out of the city as you did, nestled in the trees that scattered the farmland surrounding your home. You heard the shrill chirping of the birds as you adjusted back to life in the waking world, stretching with a grunt as you glanced over at the clock sitting on your nightstand.

It was still early, something you both lamented and thanked the lord for. You had things to do today, things that would require you to sneak past your brother who had undoubtedly passed out on the couch once more after a night of drinking himself silly. He had been like that before your parents passed, one of the many things he and your father had in common.

It had been only a couple of years since your father died, leaving your brother his illegal business of moonshining - a business you had been a part of at one point before finding other means of making money. Your father hadn’t been too keen on the idea at first, always commenting on how you seemed to have a special touch with the liquor, earning you your nickname of Moonshine or Moonie for short.

He had accepted it in stride, though. Especially when he saw the amount of your first earnings as a part-time photographer for the local paper. The camera had been a gift from a family friend, having purchased it for his son who quickly let it fall to the wayside as other pursuits caught his interests.

“Shouldn’t go to waste,” he had said, handing it to you with a small smile on his usually stern face. “Here, Moonie. You should have it.”

You had felt wrong taking it at first, but the feeling quickly left you once you held your first photo in your hand, your brother having saved up enough to set up a makeshift room for you to develop them in. That was before he started sampling his own product, of course.

“These are really good, Moonie!” Jack had grinned as he held a particularly stunning shot of a doe you had encountered in the back field one morning. She had turned to face you, and that’s when you had taken the shot, just before she ran back into the safety of the woods. You were particularly proud of that shot, but you ducked your head down in humility.

“They’re not that good,” you mumbled shyly.

You smiled wistfully at the memory before letting out a sigh as you pulled yourself up out of the comfort of your bed. You were quick to tidy up, fluffing the pillows before marching down the hall towards the bathroom. The sound of snoring echoed from your brother’s room, and you snorted in surprise at the change, but continued on.

After relieving yourself, you washed up, grimacing at your reflection in the mirror. Most girls your age had a whole counter full of makeup, but you simply couldn’t see the need for it, or justify it for that matter. No, you were saving up what little you could to make your escape. You weren’t sure where you’d go yet. New York perhaps? You’d heard there was always an opportunity for someone there. The thought of making your way in the growing city sent your stomach fluttering, and you clapped your hands against your cheeks to settle your mind.

There was no time for daydreaming. You had to focus on the task at hand. You were able to squirrel some of your earnings away from your brother’s greedy hands, and you made weekly deposits into a private bank account. People had been weary of the banks since the crash a few years back, but you trusted them more than your snooping older brother. Work had been hard for people to come by, but people were always looking for a photographer. So for now, non-essentials like makeup would have to wait.

You dressed quickly, double checking to make sure your camera was tucked away in your messenger back alongside your rainy day fund, and set out only to stop short at the sight of the living room.

Bottles were strewn all about the place along with cards scattered alongside them. Letting out a heavy sigh, you dropped your bag down onto one of the chairs as you set about cleaning the place up. You were surprised that the noise of what was surely many men hadn’t woken you up. You had had a long day, though. The fresh wad of bills sitting in your bag proof of that.

The bottles clanked together as you gathered up as many as you could, taking them out to be washed later. Coming back inside, you glanced over to observe the state of the kitchen, the sight having a growl leaving your throat before you could stop it. Plates were stacked high in the sink, and you knew you’d have to take care of them now lest they stink up the place for the rest of the day. The last thing you needed to deal with was unwanted pests in your home.

You actually enjoyed doing the dishes, if you were being honest. It was time to let your mind wander, plotting your way out without being disturbed. No one wanted to be drawn in to helping, of course. So you washed and scrubbed in silence as the noise outside picked up with the late morning. You wouldn’t get to the bank until this afternoon, at this rate. That left little time to go snooping for your next lead, which left you more irritated than before.

You drained the sink once you were done, wiping your hands with the dishcloth with a grimace. You’d have to do laundry tomorrow. Another chore left for you to take care of.

Perhaps you wouldn’t be so quick to want to leave if it wasn’t only you holding this place together. Your brother had been your rock once upon a time, but then your mother had passed due to illness and your father followed her not long after. Of course, you had been devastated, but you took it upon yourself to be the strong one after Jack fell apart. He started drinking then. It had only been one here or there, but it quickly grew into several bottles a night, and no amount of begging would get him to stop. So you quit trying.

It had come to a head only a year ago when you came home early to find your room tossed upside down, anything of value missing along with Jack. It was a week before he came home.

You had learned your lesson, and now you bided your time until you could withdraw your money and make a break for it. The sun shone down on you as you began the trek into town, dreaming of the day you would make this journey for the last time.

A/N: Just something to tide you guys over until I can formulate the next chapters of By Its Cover and Fool's Fare. I'm excited for this one though!

If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. You can find all of my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[romanoffsbish]

Craving You

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff (amab)

WandaNat x F!R

Picture Steve x Nat in CA:TWS, but astronomically better because it’s You, the reader. Also, Wanda and Nat have already met/were established. 😏 | 5,646 Words

Warnings: Violence/Injury | Emotionally Stunted R -> Sad Natasha -> Mean-ish Wanda

Smut: Mommy (W), Subby Nat | Nat has a penis |Handjob (W->N), Magic Restraints / Spreader Bar | Oral (All) | Unprotected Sex (R) | Degradation/Praising | Choking | Breeding.

18+ | Minors DNI | Labeled / Please Don’t Report

"Kiss me," Natasha commanded, yours eyes widened, but soon they fluttered shut as she yanked you in with her hands on your face.

Natasha groaned as you parted your lips, tongue sliding over her shivering bottom one. She prays that you don't feel her desperation to let you in so you could devour her whole. Fuck, she wanted nothing more than to indulge you, but this was only a failsafe on a mission.

It wasn't real. At least not yet, she hoped.

—

There was no time to become distracted, two Avengers on the unexpected run from Hydra tripping over each other in a mall is the opposite of the objective. Once she knows Rumlow is gone she's reluctantly, but swiftly removing her lips from yours. It's almost mechanical in nature; self preservation is what it invokes within you, it also feels regretful.

You're just unsure if it's because she detested your touch, or for having to pull away already.

"Keep focused Agent Y/L/N," she suddenly rasps, then clears her throat of her arousal. But she only makes yours worse as her hot breath fans across your face. Then the smell of vanilla hits you, and you quietly gasp, keeping in stride with her, "My coffee didn't spill, you finished it while I was getting my croissant!"

Natasha bites back her chuckle. You were such an idiot, which is why she glares back at you. "I said keep focused you wannabe mall cop."

You giggled, "Pipe down Romanoff." Natasha desperately wanted to—to do that to you.

She shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand so that she and Wanda can make their move on you tonight. With a soft smile hidden by the hoodie over her face Natasha allowed herself to wonder if you'd finally break and ask instead. At this point it came down to if you or Wanda said something, she was too nervous.

Once the two of you made it to the location you knew something wasn't right. There was an uneasy haze around the abandoned army barracks. It took a moment, but between the both of you you found a building that looked new, appearing to be a recent development.

Then just as your gut had tried to warn you, there was a whooshing noise that gave you mere seconds to tackle the redhead and shield her from the incoming explosion. Natasha hit her head, knocking her loopy, and leaving you to safely evacuate both of you from the rubble.

Every muscle in your body ached as you made it back to New York, and into your apartment. Steve was waiting there, with his kind looking friend you learned was named Sam. You flashed the new guy a smile, then took Nat to your bedroom so she could decompress.

"Here." You passed the dirtied woman a towel, and a pair of your shorts and a loose tank top. Natasha beamed internally, the woman more than excited to wear your clothing. Then you kissed her cheek. Nat's stony resolve that she couldn't let crumble just yet nearly shattered.

"Th-thank you." Shit. She couldn't even keep it together. The sight of your smirk had Natasha moving the clothes in her hand over her crotch. There's nothing seamless about it, it was an obvious boner block. Your feathery soft affection drove her wild enough to get hard.

You bit your lower lip, and whispered: "You're most certainly welcome my dear." It was hot, and incredibly unfair, but fuck, Natasha so badly wanted to kiss your smugness away.

Natasha brushed passed you, catching a whiff of you that only made her throb harder.

Whenever you got too close, she could feel an overwhelming need. She'd smell Wanda's Chanel *5 that you stole last Summer, and it works. It blends in so harmoniously with your natural scent. It's romantic to her, in the way that yours and Wanda's differ so much, but both entice her immensely. Your scent leaned more towards the floral, hints of Rose and Jasmine prominent. Whereas Wanda's scent was more woodsy, a mix of amber and vanilla.

Natasha got off to the thought of you three times in the one day you were involved on this hopeless mission together. The first being right after she made it to the bathroom. She'd taken a strikingly cold shower and worked to release all the built up tension the kiss had caused.

The next time came when you called her name in your sleep that same night, an incoherent little please falling from your lips before you had also whimpered her lovers name. Natasha came without even so much as a few thrusts.

Her boxers were ruined, but they were her only pair. And all you had clean were thongs. She had to hand wash them in your sink, slip into your shorts commando, and wake up by 6 so she could beat you to the morning routine.

Then the last time was when you were kneeling down on the ground a few hours ago on a nature walk meant to inspire solutions to the mission. For some reason you stopped, then the next thing the redhead knows is your face is eye level with the soft bulge in her pants.

You picked up a penny, "Heads up Natty. Make a wish." Natasha rolled her eyes at your antics, then she had to stop from rolling them all the way to the back of her head when you tripped and palmed her dick through her shorts.

Natasha waved away your apologies. Tears welling up in her embarrassed eyes. You tried to follow her on instinct and she became more frantic. Then you realized she needed privacy; a silent understanding, so you let her venture off into the shadows of the nature paths where nefarious things like this happened every day.

You shared a reassuring smile when she came back, she returned it easily, then in a blink you were in a battle, peace far from obtainable now.

Then the next thing she knows is she's trying to find you while the Winter Soldier hunts you all down. Already successful in dividing, so now she prays, hoping that he fails his conquest.

Fortunately he failed, but not without taking the both of you out, totaling Sam's car, and bringing up a conglomerate of issues for Steve.

She was just trying to go back, maybe if she made the wish in lieu of skepticism then you'd still be fighting the good fight. Instead of for your life. She wants to go back to her reddened cheeks that indicated something naughty, not the ones she wears now with tear tracks.

To before you got stabbed, she got shot, and Wanda came in hot on your tails as you were wheeled into the medbay in shit condition.

Wanda was shaking, forcing the sobs back. She couldn't afford to lose it. You both needed her.

Nat ensured you, the unconscious one, with the three gushing stab wounds, got assisted first over her, with the one bullet wound that was imbedded and staunching the blood flow.

They'd insisted you go next, she grunted and sent murderous glares to anyone trying to get her into Cho's cradle. Noting that she was of a higher rank, making her scoff, "If she dies I'll use that rank to make sure you all disappear."

It was sickening, you were no less valuable for having less secrets. For being less corrupted.

She vowed to Wanda she'd get them all fired. She was fierce in her expectations, so you went in without any further fight. You were safe, for now that is. While Natasha stood guard, the witch went straight to Hill to ensure there was a safe house set up. She got the key, and returned to see you had woken up. Your groggy voice made her smile fondly. She imagined wanting to hear that sleepy voice every day.

In the heat of the moment Natasha tried to kiss you but you evaded it with fear in your eyes. It landed on your cheek and you scurried across the room. Unaware of how much that hurt the both of them. You were afraid to be loved, it was obvious how deeply your ex affected you.

It didn't excuse your reactions though...

Wanda glared at you from across the room. She held Natasha's defeated face against the soft cotton over her abdomen. It's virtually heatless, but it's scary enough to leave you wondering what she's mad about anyways.

The kiss? It was a mission, you might've savored the moment, but you knew it wasn't anything serious. Nat would never cheat on her girlfriend. Surely Wanda understood that...

The bombing? You didn't know until you did. Then you did all you could to protect Natasha.

The evasion? You weren't clueless, you knew they wanted you on some level, but based on how often Nat relieved herself you were sure it was only carnal. All your returned flirting and teasing aside, you just couldn't do it, even if your body craved them just the same, your heart would positively shatter if it was just sex.

You just weren't sure, Wanda's eyes were void of answers, and you didn't stick around long enough to find out. Her icy stare hurt. You softly called out a goodbye to them once you knew Nat was going to be okay. Then you just left, missing the look of longing both women were throwing at you. Wanda was only furious she didn't get to kiss you first. Your lips looked delectable, plump and hydrated. It was sinister how she wanted to tear your perfect smile into one indicating a rough night. It made her wet.

Natasha whimpered, looking up to the witch with tears in her eyes. The redhead was in love with you, Wanda knows that kiss hurt her more than it pleased her. Outwardly Wanda seemed like the soft one, she had such a friendly smile and Natasha mostly offered grimaces. Except for when she looked at you or Wanda. Her face always lit up at the sight of either of you two. She'd always been the romantic one, she loved, love—she wanted to kiss you under the stars.

Not on an escalator in perceived falsehoods.

"Get some rest detka," she whispered against her lips as she pecked them. "We'll make her understand when we get to the safe house."

When you made it to your spare room at the compound you found Hill there with a smirk.

"What are you doing here?" You groaned, and she feigned offense. "Is that anyway to speak to your commander?" You rolled your eyes. "Last time I checked Shield has fallen, as have you. I'm not sure what you want, but I have to change and get back out there to help Rogers."

"Nuh-uh, the witch and widow benched you," she teased. "You'll be staying with them in a safe house until Rogers and his friend fix this."

"No." You shook your head, eyes widening at the idea of being locked up with them.

"Which is why I have a bag of your things, I went and collected it all by myself. Made sure to even throw in a new set of lingerie of yours."

"Isn't Fury dying?" You exasperated and she snorted, "Not as fast as your sex life has."

"Knock it off," you whined, and the woman merely chuckled, "You first." You glared at her and she sighed, "Stop running. They want you."

"Maybe I don't want to be wanted like that."

Maria's features softened. "Y/N, they want you far more than like that. Wanda nearly killed me with a glare after you were rolled by on a gurney, and Natasha wouldn't let anyone near you while you were healing. Stop letting your past relationship dictate your happiness now."

"I'm trying," you sniffled, Maria moved to wrap her arm around your waist, you leaned against her shoulder. "I love them so much, of course I want them 'Ria, but I don't want to burden them with these feelings if they're unwanted."

"Y/N..."

"No," you cut her off. "Darcy only agreed to go out with me because she felt bad for me. Then she let me believe it was love for six months."

Maria squeezed your hip, you put a hand over hers, and felt the numbness fade at the touch.

"I loved her Maria, but to her I was a chore."

"Darcy's a bitch," Maria matter of factly stated. "Wanda and Natasha have their moments, but in the end they're total teddy bears. I'm telling you that you have nothing to worry about, they want you, but if on the 1% chance I'm wrong, they wouldn't hold your feelings against you."

"It would still be embarrassing," you whined, and she pinched your hip to draw out your babyish response. "Take a chance on yourself, I guarantee you won't strike out my dearest."

Maria stood up as soon as you'd sat back up. "Don't be a hopeless fool Y/N, return happy." You rolled your eyes. "That's an order Y/L/N."

"Wha-." The door slammed in your face, you were stunned. Maria is a walking HR Case.

Fortunately for her Shield was crumbling.

You began to sort through the duffle bag, you were planning on showering, because Cho's machine doesn't remove blood or grime. You looked for an outfit to change into, your hand suddenly stopped, and your fingers traced curiously over the lace of your lingerie set.

You lifted the set from the bag to see it was your newest. It was a lush swirl of pinks and reds on the bra and panties, each with a pretty pattern in white lace to enhance the pieces.

You'd thought of the couple when you bought this set. The deep colors and delicate lace just made you think of the women. Both were publicly headstrong, but behind only your closed door they were lovable goofballs.

For a moment you gave into the temptations Maria left at your door, and took a shower. You'd pulled a pair of cotton grey shorts over your butt, then pulled a V-neck shirt over your head. Offering a glimpse of white lace.

You took a few deep breaths as you packed your bag and as you made it down the stairs.

When you reached the bottom you found the couple waiting for you. Both with steeled features, picture perfect stoicism on display.

Soon you found yourself entering a cottage, judging by how long the flight was you're assuming it's Norway. The gorgeous green mountainsides and surrounding pools of a beautiful deep blue water also an indicator.

It had been a quiet evening, the couple spent most of their time avoiding you. Wanda was holding up better at the game, Natasha didn't want to be far from you, even if she was supposed to be mad at you. You were the most beautiful person around, with a heart of gold.

Who finds that and doesn't go absolutely nuts?

As soon as you left the kitchen with a sad smile Natasha whined. Wanda was right behind her a second later, her hand wrapped around her throat from behind. "I said let me handle it."

"But mommy, I need her." Wanda sighed, "I know detka, believe me, I do. Be patient."

Wanda had a plan, but it was only going to work if she got Natasha out of the way, so with a gentle push she guided her lover to the room.

"Take it all off detka, and wait on the bed for mommy," Wanda instructed, and Natasha moved with obedience while the witch went to the dresser drawer they'd just filled with toys.

Natasha sat pretty on her knees, with her hands clasped behind her back and her cock laying against her thigh. Wanda returned pleased with her, so she softened for a brief moment as she connected their lips for a kiss.

"Lay down detka," Wanda purred, hands gentle as they eased her into the mattress. "Mommy hates to have to do this." Wanda feigned remorse, but truthfully she loved doing this. "But since you won't let me handle Y/N alone, I have to restrain, and gag you." Wanda sent wisps of red across her lovers body that latched onto the headboard and encased her wrists.

Then she placed her legs into a spreader, her limbs instantly ached as she was forced apart. Her butt barely touched the bed, so her arms and legs were strained with her body weight.

"Mommy please," Natasha begged, but it was of no use, her words now muffled as she placed a ball gag into her mouth. "Shh, it's okay..."

Wanda lazily jerked Natasha off, getting her cock to stand upright, her tip slowly coating with pre cum. The witch ran her thumb over the slit and felt the warmth spewing out. She removed her hand then, just as Natasha was about to blow. The redhead had tears running down her cheeks now, and Wanda had never seen anything more beautiful. "I'll be back."

It didn't take long for the witch to find you, she knew that you'd be in the living room once they went to bed. She caught you off guard, you tried to get up to leave, not wanting to make her anymore upset, but she didn't let you.

Wanda flicked the TV off, and held you to the couch with her powers until she straddled you. She smirked as you groaned, feeling her wetness through your thin sleep shirt. Wanda was in a faded guns n roses tee, with nothing on beneath so you felt her wholly. "Wanda..."

"Shut up, Y/N." Wanda ignored your weak warning as she slammed her lips into yours, and immediately the room was spinning. You closed your eyes tight to try and calm down your system, but no matter what you couldn't get your heart rate back with Wanda on you.

Her velvety tongue slid over yours after she broke her way in with a harsh bite to your lower lip. You moaned unabashedly, there was no fighting how good she felt against you.

"Fuck, I've wanted to do that for so long," she groaned against your lips. "I was so mad that Nat got to you first, I wanted that honor."

"I can fuck you first," you blurted, it was a shock to the both of you. The willingness and subsequent confidence materialized out of thin air, and it had the desired effect, because Wanda was drenching you through your shirt.

"Or you can let me fuck you first," Wanda countered, her eyes dark with sinful desire. "Nat will be jealous, please let me taste you."

Your answer was a pitiful whimper, then you lifted the both of you from the couch and ran to the bedroom where you found a glorious sight.

Natasha was tied up and desperate, her eyes wet from a never ending stream of tears. You tossed Wanda onto the bed, then moved to kiss Natasha's cheek with a blink of tenderness.

Wanda internally aw'd, but in the moment she snatched you, and laid you down beneath her.

"Can I touch you sweet girl?" You nodded, then whispered a pleading yes. Wanda kissed you softly then her hands turned devilish as they roughly tore your clothes from your body. The witch hummed lowly at the sight of your lingerie, it was beautiful, you looked delicious.

Her fingers traced over the lace, feeling the intricate design as she held eye contact with you the whole time. Her hand eventually wiggled beneath you so that she could unclasp the bra, and blindly toss it across the room.

"That's new," you whined, and the woman chuckled around your nipple, sending a sharp shiver down your spine. "I'm sure it's alright."

The witch continued lavishing your breasts with attention, helping you to forget your concerns. Slow, and methodical as she sought to tease the woman to her right. "You smell so good detka, bet you taste even better." Natasha cried out, disappointment running its course through her as she watched Wanda eat you out.

*Keep your eyes on mommy detka,* Wanda called out to her telepathically, *Don't look away and I promise you'll get fucked by her.*

Natasha forced her eyes back open, watching as Wanda's tongue drove into you repeatedly, she wished to taste you from the source herself. To have her tongue be the reason you were whimpering and writhing on the bed so hotly.

Natasha came with a hump to the air as you did the same on her lovers tongue. Wanda cleaned you up with slow, precise strokes of her tongue, teasing you in the direction of another orgasm, but after a minute she pulled away with a grin.

She kissed up your body slowly, her breaths labored as they brushed across your skin.

Wanda whispered in your ear, "Go on detka, tease her while mommy catches her breath."

You hovered over her face, your body to her side as you removed her ball gag. A line of spit connected her to the plastic until she began to cough after taking in a breath too eagerly.

You waited for her to calm down before your hand slowly trailed down her body. Natasha watched you warily, her lower lip trembled as you fisted her bulge while gazing into her eyes expectantly. "Tell me what you want baby."

Wanda chuckled airily, "Good luck with that, she is a brainless whore when stimulated."

"Is that right Natty?" She nodded timidly, you smirked. "Good, I prefer my whores dumb."

Natasha's eyes crossed when you straddled her spread thighs, your slick warmth blanketed her erect cock. You giggled at the feel of her throb. "Fuck Nat, you're so desperate." Her hips bucked in acknowledgment, fighting against the restraints to hopefully slip inside you.

"Want you so bad Y/N/N," she whined, "I want you to fuck me, milk my cock, please detka."

You looked to Wanda who gave you a nod of approval, she watched you both intently. Nat however gulped as she watched you as you lowered yourself onto her. The both of you sighed when your hips finally met, and she moaned when you began to slowly rock yours. 

"Look at that detka," Wanda whispered, her nose nuzzled into the redheads. "Y/N's finally riding you, how does it feel?" Natasha smiled with pleasurable tears in her eyes. "So good."

The way she said finally had you rocking even faster, knowing this was a fantasy of theirs had you ready to fulfill it in the blur of a moment.

"You're so big Natty," you praised, voice sultry as you felt the building pleasure from riding her. "Can't wait to feel you let go inside of me."

Natasha's cheeks flushed a bright red, and Wanda looked at you with wide eyes, her shock lasted a few seconds before she was smirking. "You hear that? She's gonna let you breed her, but only if you make mommy cum first."

Natasha grinned cheekily, she pushed out her tongue, and Wanda chuckled heartily at her enthusiasm. The witch then waved her hands, relieving the persistent ache in Nat's shoulders as her upper body was released from the magical bonds. She swiftly slung her leg over her face and lowered her dripping cunt down.

Wanda had made sure to ride her face with her back to the headboard so she could watch you. Her hips harshly ground into Nat's obedient tongue as she watched you slowly falling apart.

A burning sensation on your clit had you opening your eyes, you met Wanda's crimson set and knew what was happening, the pit in your lower belly tightened impossibly, and you bit your lip hard as you tried to ride the wave.

"You gonna cum for us pretty girl?" Wanda asked, her voice dripping with desire as she watched you struggling to hold on. "Let Natty know how good she feels, I wanna see you come undone for us, help mommy out, yeah?"

Wanda crooked her finger, and you eagerly leaned in to kiss her like you both desired. It was sloppy as you couldn't stop moaning with the new angle. Natasha was incredibly strong, so the spreaders didn't keep her from thrusting up into you, her bulbous tip hit your g-spot with each thrust of yours she managed to meet.

The brunette bit your lower lip suddenly, the heat from her powers intensified, and her hand wrapped around your throat. "Let go detka."

"Fuck," you clenched, trapping Nat's cock between your pulsing walls as you saw stars. Wanda watched in awe as your slick gushed and painted the reddened thighs of her lover. Her own hips stuttered, and she came hard on her tongue as she screamed both your names.

Wanda fell onto the bed, causing it to shake as Nat was still being fucked by you, tears fell from her eyes as the jolt pleasured her deeply. She was already desperate to release, but the promise of letting go in your womb made it much harder to hold back. "Mommy please."

Wanda looked at you, you nodded once again, and she felt her heart flutter at the thought. Of you finally letting these walls drop, and letting them love you the way they've always wanted.

"Let go," she purred, "Fill Y/N to the brim."

A scream was ripped from your throat as you felt fresh hot, spurts of cum painting your walls. Natasha's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she came even more as Wanda squeezed her balls and tweaked her nipples.

Your body collapsed onto hers, lips crashing into hers as you sought the grounding touch. Natasha smiled into the affection, her heart was beating wildly with love as you made out. Moans never stopped leaving you, the feel of her throbbing inside of you kept you aroused, and it only got better as you got to taste Wanda's tangy essence on her plump lips.

"Holy fucking shit," Natasha gasped, you had gently removed yourself from her body, and the sound of your combined cum sloshing against her thighs made all of you go still.

"Fuck," Wanda breathed as she scooped some of your combined essence up, and brought it to your lips expectantly. Natasha leaned up on her elbows to watch, your lips parted, and you instantly gagged as Wanda fucked her fingers into your mouth, paying no mind to your throats existence, that was her goal after all.

“Isn’t she pretty Natty?” Natasha nodded, smiling softly as her hand reached out to wipe away the tears Wanda was causing to fall. Her lips then pecked your cheek. “The prettiest.”

Wanda slid her fingers from your mouth, a soft pop rang out in the room. The tension was palpable as she kept her eyes on yours as she seamlessly moved them over into Natasha’s. The redhead hummed around the intrusion, happily engaging in the swapping of spit.

“Mommy loves a set of good girls, ” Wanda beamed, then she leaned in to kiss you slowly as Natasha suckled and gagged on her fingers. Then she tapped the redheads face with the wet digits, and whispered, “Let’s get cleaned up.”

The rest was a blur, Wanda was nothing but gentle as she removed the toys, and moved to clean you up, all the while you cleaned Natasha up by way of a sloppy blowjob. The redhead stood no chance against your lips, so after she came down your throat it was lights out for her.

Wanda scooted Natasha to the center of the bed, and then clambered in behind her, she placed a kiss to your temple, then another to Nat's before she settled into the mattress for some much needed sleep after the long day.

The night was perfect, but the longer you laid there the more you felt an urge to run. It felt great in the moment, but now you felt used. As if bedding you was the goal here, you ignored the obvious loving touches, and the buff arm that was wrapped around you protectively.

Your mind was like a cataclysmic battlefield.

Wanda groaned softly into her pillow as the sound of scuffling roused her from sleep, she gently removed her arm from over her lovers waist, then she walked over to your rapidly dressing form. You rushed out the door, but you didn't get far as she wrapped you in her powers, and softly shut the door for Nat's sake.

"Why don't you get it Y/N?" Wanda's tone was tired, you shrunk as guilt washed over you, "This wasn't just some quickie, and it's hurtful that you'd think that." She shook her head in emphasis of her negation. "We love you Y/N, Nat fell asleep with thoughts of taking you on a date. She loves you beyond words, as do I, so why can't you let us, hm? Stop running."

"I-I," your voice was unbearably hoarse, thick with emotion, "It's all I know how to do..."

Wanda's defensive resolve fell, you sounded so dejected, your pain obvious, so she lowered you to the ground while briskly approaching you.

"You're not on the run anymore malysh," she whispered the words against your temple as she kissed your skin tenderly. "You're safe here with me and Nat. It's okay to trust, I promise we won't break it. Please, just let us love you."

"I want to," you admitted quietly, "I just don't know how." Wanda nodded, she understood wholeheartedly how life after Hydra can be.

She also remembers your ex, the wench that took your love, and squandered it. Who took your hardly given trust and broke it for all.

"We'll take it slow," she soothed her hand down your back before returning it to cup the back of your head, guiding your face to her chest while her other arm wrapped around your waist

"Whatever you need," she reaffirmed, Wanda wanted nothing more than to make you happy.

You hummed thoughtfully, "Fresh air sounds nice." Wanda grinned. "I'll make us some tea."

"Moya lyubov's?" Natasha called out, her raspy voice now deepened from sleep cracking as she broke out into a yawn. You and Wanda shifted so you could look at her. It melted your heart to see her pouting, eyes glimmering with unshed tears brought on by the both of your absence.

It wasn't hard, nor suffocating, to feel the love.

"Shh dorogoy," Wanda coo'd as she beckoned her over. Natasha waddled, navy green blanket wrapped so tight around her body that all you could see was her face when light cast through the shadows of the hallway and onto her.

Natasha sniffled pitifully, "I was all alone."

"We're sorry," Wanda relayed genuinely as she leaned in to kiss the redheads wetted cheeks. "Our love here needed some fresh air, so I was just about to make us some tea. Wanna come?"

Natasha beamed, head nodding quickly. "We can share my blanket!" You snorted, this was such a beautiful, new side to the redhead for you to see. She'd always been softer with you, but she was also evasively abrasive when she felt as if she needed to keep her guard up.

But now, under the glow of the moon you saw her in totality. Natasha was a sweetheart. Dangerous to nearly all of mankind, but she's cracked open and vulnerable for the two of you.

"That sounds perfect Nat," you replied nasally, Natasha swiftly dropped her blanket and looked between you and Wanda with concern. She pulled your face away from Wanda, and settled it right before hers. "What's wrong?"

Natasha might very well be feeling softened and subby, but she wasn't clueless. She was a spy for goodness sake. You shook your head, lips brief as they kissed her palms, one after the other. "Nothing sweetheart, let's go cuddle."

The redhead squealed as you scooped her up, giggling soon following as you kissed all over her face, the feather light touch tickling her pink. She hummed as your lips firmly pressed into hers, her tip throbbed but her cock stayed motionless. Her body was far too spent.

"Where's my kisses?" Wanda asked in offense. "I'm not making the tea until compensated."

Natasha twisted in your hold until she was on her tummy and able to crane her neck, offering Wanda her pursed lips. The witch breathed a laugh through her nose. Then she leaned into the contortionist with a passionate lip lock.

When she pulled away Natasha rolled back over with her eyes closed and lips raised. You leaned down to kiss her forehead and she purred while shifting closer to you. Wanda soon gripped your face, she waited for a go ahead, and once you nodded she kissed you.

There was a hunger to the way her tongue slid in your mouth, but it was heatless. She sought a moment of deep intimacy as she caressed the back of your teeth with the tip of her tongue. It was surprisingly sweet. Your heart beating out of rhythm when the tip of her tongue pushed down your throat. As you gagged she pulled away with a glistening smile. A tethered string of spit that connected you snapped as her lips had curled up. You mirrored the action.

"Go get comfy on the patio now loves," she commanded tenderly, "I'll be right there."

When Wanda followed ten minutes later with a tray full of everyone's favorite snacks, and warm mugs of tea you felt this foreign feeling of comfort roll over you. Their bright smiles, and warm caresses insinuations of love, and for the first time in a long time you willingly felt it.

But more importantly, you began to embrace it.

——

[d-criss-news]

Inside ‘Maybe Happy Ending,’ the revolutionary robot musical that has Broadway audiences aglow

A line in “Maybe Happy Ending” describes the lives of fireflies, the once-ubiquitous insects that magically produce their own light. “They only live for two months. But what a beautiful two months.” The same was nearly said of the stage show itself. Of all the new musicals debuting on Broadway this season, “Maybe Happy Ending” is the sole entry not based on true events, archival music or any other existing material, which made it a box office underdog when it opened last November. Its unabashed originality has since become its biggest boon. Set in Seoul circa 2064, the one-act adventure centers on two retired Helperbots who set aside their solitude and head to Jeju Island; Oliver, optimistic by design, hopes to reunite with his former owner, and Claire, cynical from experience, wants to witness the fireflies’ glow before her own obsoletion. Along the way, these robots fall in love, their narrative needle dropped by jazz standards of a bygone era. This intimate spectacle — already a hit title in Asia for years, before the isolation of the pandemic and the existential threat of AI — is a singular exploration of human connection and the beauty of being alive, even though the only living thing in their apartments is a potted plant named HwaBoon. The Times spoke separately with members of the musical’s cast and creative team about developing the standout show in Asia, witnessing its remarkable rise to Broadway acclaim and pulling off an ending that fascinates audiences to the tune of repeat viewing.

[HQ] Marcus Choi, Helen J Shen, Dez Duron and Darren Criss of the Broadway musical “Maybe Happy Ending,” photographed at the Belasco Theater in New York. (Photo by Justin Jun Lee / For The Times)

Darren Criss (actor, Oliver): Let’s call a spade a spade here — I’m the white-passing Asian of our group, but it is my identity. The AAPI community in the arts is a smaller, if not marginalized, group, so to be up there, I feel that excitement and encouragement from the community at large. It’s important, and I hope this show can continue to have that legacy and be an inspiring call to action in other artistic spheres.

Criss: After a few previews, we noticed that audiences had conflicting ideas about the ending and would ask us for answers. We told Michael, and he said defiantly, “No, that’s not the play we’re doing. This is what happens, make sure you tell that story.” Shy of any eye flutters, we’re doing that same directive every night.

Criss: Even though we’re trying to be definitive, people want to see things and need the ending to be one way or the other, maybe because of taste or life experiences. It just speaks to the investment people put into these characters and the story.