raapija · 7 months ago
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Here it is! The Pookie AU! Holy shit!
Please give me feedback if there is something weird with the dates/years etc. and tell me what you think :>
I'm very tired after staring at this for hours so there must be some errors :>
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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 1 year ago
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The List (5)
Summary: When a hit list spreads around New York, Bucky’s ex-wife is the only one with any information.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x Ex-Wife Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: Not Beta’d. Thank you for all of the comments. I read them all! Let me know if I missed you in the taglist!
Series Masterlist
Previous Chapter
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Chapter 5
Nothing ages the soul faster than pain. Y/N had spent the entirety of her marriage to Bucky nestled under his wing. Warm. Safe. Hidden. He had always been her protector. The second her life was threatened she fell back into familiar habits. No matter how far she jumped, gravity always dragged her back down to Bucky Barnes. A sick joke from the universe or fate? Y/N would never know. She wasn’t the same person Bucky previously married, but neither was he. When they had first wed, neither could imagine a life without one another but if the divorce proved them wrong, why were they back where they started?
Like a snake shedding its skin, the pair was forced to grow. Each new scale bound together like the armor of a knight. The protective layer of thick skin was worn with honor, displayed like a war trophy. Neither one of them had made it out of the divorce unscathed, but they had both survived it. Bucky never doubted Y/N was the one for him, their timing had just been off. Right person, wrong time. Life is like a string. The ending and beginning are always the same, people are born and then they die. It’s all the knots in between that mold people and their relationships. Y/N and Bucky hit a knot in their string. Their perfect marriage became messy and tangled but if they could unravel the knot the string could resume its course. Y/N hoped all of their time spent apart had allowed them to grow together, not apart like they had thought.
Bucky had always held the power in their relationship, but now he was a king in check, trapped behind bars. Y/N was free, free to make moves. Steve had been right. The queen held all of the power. She had been playing the game wrong all along. It wasn’t her who needed protection, it was Bucky. He had just handed her access to the board, to his men. Y/N filed her nails and sharpened her teeth. The prey had become the predator and Y/N was ready to hunt.
Dancing her way into the kitchen with a newfound confidence, Y/N skidded to a halt at the sight of Steve. A coffee mug pressed against his lips as he occupied a stool at the end of the island. He barely spared her a glance, his focus trained on the newspaper in front of him. Y/N would have found it offensive had she not known the man. He had always been more of a brother to Bucky, and she had come to see him as a brother-in-law. She respected him. That was the reason she halted. He wouldn’t approve of her decision.
Clearing her throat, Y/N held her head high as her bare feet padded across the kitchen.
“Morning,” Steve’s deep voice rumbled.
With her back turned to him, Y/N poured herself a cup of coffee mumbling her own greeting. She needed a firm hand to guide her in Bucky’s world, but she hadn’t forgotten the way Steve toyed with her. Maybe he was disappointed Bucky hadn’t left him in charge. It didn’t matter now. Bucky appointed her. At least that’s what Steve told her.
She could hear the crinkle of the newspaper turning before he spoke, “Did you give my advice some thought?”
It was now or never. Y/N clasped her mug between her palms and sauntered across from Steve. Again, he didn’t acknowledge her standing across from him, his head buried in the paper. The sound of her mug connecting with the marble finally caught his attention. The blonde’s head snapped up to face her.
“I did,” Y/N said slowly, dragging the words out.
Steve raised an eyebrow folding the newspaper in front of him. “And?” He pressed; his hands folded on top of the printed paper.
Y/N eyed him for a moment, her tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth. “I’ve decided to take another direction.” Steve shook his head, his pink lips parted. Y/N could taste the argument on his lips so she beat him to it. “You’re demoted, Steve.” The bewildered look on his face almost made her take it back, almost.
“You’re not serious, Y/N.”
The way he said it made her jaw tick. It was a statement rather than a question. As if she wasn’t capable of being serious. As if he didn’t take her seriously. He was the child, not her. Pressing her palms into the marble countertop, she leaned forward. “You may have been right yesterday but what you did was childish. You may have Bucky’s best interest at heart and be Bucky’s best right-hand man, but you are not mine.” Steve opened his mouth again, but Y/N held up a hand. “I get it, Steve, really, I do. Bucky is your friend. It was you picking up the pieces when I moved out but that doesn’t excuse your methods with me. I love you Stevie, but I need someone who is going to be upfront with me and not play these games you and Bucky orchestrated. I need my best right-hand man, not Bucky’s.”
The stool screeched against the tile floor as Steve stood. “You’re making a mistake, Y/N. Bucky will be out soon and when he is, he will undo everything you change.”
Sipping her coffee mug, Y/N smiled. “Then it is my mistake to make. If I fail, you win. Enjoy this demotion. Take a break, go on vacation.”
“Lives are at risk Y/N, it is not the time to experiment,” Steve growled.
“Then Bucky wouldn’t have appointed me.” Y/N picked up her mug ready to exit the kitchen. “Effective immediately, Bucky will report to me.” Exiting the kitchen, the conversation was dismissed.
A nagging feeling in the back of her mind warned her she was making a mistake. That she should listen to Steve. He was in the business longer, he knew better. Y/N shook the feeling away, her feet carrying her across the house in search of her right-hand man. Bucky trusted her. She knew the enemy better than any of Bucky’s men. She hadn’t made her decision on a whim; Loki knew where Bucky was and was expecting Steve to take over. It was the logical thing to do.
“Hey Y/N, where are you off to in such a hurry?”
Y/N smiled at the familiar voice. Exactly who she was looking for. “Hey, Sam. I was going to head to the prison, but I wanted to get your opinion on something first.”
Sam crossed his arms across his chest. “Shoot.”
“How would you feel about a promotion?”
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Strumming her nails against the cold metal table, Y/N counted down the seconds the inmates would stroll through the door. Bucky was finally able to receive in-person visits. Her chest tightened at the thought of finally feeling his hand in hers, his arms wrapped around her, his lips against her own. Being so close yet so far was torture but she wasn’t here for Bucky. At least not yet.
Sam sat at a separate table a few feet beside her. He was just as eager to see his boss, his friend, but he had mastered controlling his emotions. Sam had been in the business for years. Prison wasn’t anything new to him. He visited plenty of people, even he mentored some of them before he joined Bucky. Sam was no stranger to visiting friends in prison, but visiting Bucky in prison was new. Steve had been Bucky’s primary contact since his arrest. How would he take Y/N cutting Steve off of him? Sam’s mind swirled with a million possibilities of the kind of man that would walk through the door. Would he still be the boss he knew or worse? The answer was neither.
A buzz rang out alerting the visitors of the arrival of the inmates before the door opened. Each visitor rose from their chair in unison fighting to make their presence known in the same way one would when picking up an individual from an airport. A sea of orange piled into the room followed by the rattle of handcuffs. Despite the matching uniforms, one person stood out amongst the rest. Bucky. His 6-foot frame towered over the other men. The white sling across his chest stuck out like a sore thumb.
Sam couldn’t help but scoff at Bucky’s appearance. Steve had told him Bucky was doing well but Sam had expected him to look rougher. A wolf in sheep's clothing; a true chameleon. Bucky was able to blend in anywhere, prison was no exception.
Bucky shuffled into the gray room one foot in front of the other. His shoulders squared as much as he could with his injury. The entire prison was dull, including the visitor room. It made sense considering the prisoners were dressed in one of the loudest colors imaginable. It made it easy for the guards to keep track of everyone. Bucky was shocked to have received a request for a visit from Sam. Steve would have at least mentioned it to Bucky the last time they spoke.
Bucky came to a standstill as the men in front of him stopped. Waiting for his turn to be guided to a table, Bucky held his head high, scanning the room for Sam. Given his height, he was able to see over everyone, easily spotting Sam. Feeling another set of eyes on him, Bucky’s eyes drifted around the room. It was possible Loki had sent someone reckless to take him out with guards around. He wouldn’t put it past him. Bucky would rather overestimate the man and be prepared rather than underestimate him and be dead.
During his scan, Bucky did a double take, his eyes landing on Y/N. Curiosity ate away at Bucky between Sam’s visit and Y/N being here. He wasn’t expecting her; she hadn’t requested a visit with him.
Y/N held Bucky’s intense gaze. She could tell he was confused, his eyes pleading for answers, but she would let Sam handle that. She had a more important task at hand. She saw Bucky’s jaw clench before a shadow towered over her.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” a cheerful voice called out, pulling her eyes from Bucky.
Y/N turned to the man beside her, uncuffed with his arms outstretched for a hug. His soft green eyes stared at her like a lost puppy, and she couldn’t help chuckle as she embraced him. “Scott Lang. It’s been a while.”
The brunette’s chest rumbled beneath the orange fabric as he pulled away. Motioning to the steel chair Y/N had been previously sitting in, Scott invited her to join him at the table which Y/N gladly accepted.
“So, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming sooner, I would have spruced the place up a bit,” Scott joked.
Y/N had met Scott on a trip to California after her split from Bucky. He too had been recently divorced. Unlike Y/N and Bucky, Scott and his ex-wife had a daughter, Cassandra, so they were in frequent contact. Y/N had wondered if she and Bucky had a child would they have been as civil as Scott and his ex-wife? Maybe they would have worked it out and wouldn’t have divorced at all. Maybe they never would have lost contact.
Y/N laughed, ignoring Bucky’s glare as he passed her. She forgot how goofy Scott was. He always made his daughter laugh. He was a good dad. Unfortunately, his career choice kept him from her. A regret he kicked himself over time and time again; however, no matter how illegal, it did support her. That was all he wanted to do, provide for his daughter. Y/N’s heart went out to the troubled little family. She couldn’t imagine having a child with Bucky while he was in and out of prison.
“You’re a long way from San Diego. Had I known you were here I would have come to visit sooner,” Y/N smiled softly.
Scott shrugged, “Judge thought a change of scenery would do me good. Little does he know; he just gave me access to more connections.”
Y/N hummed. That was the exact reason she came to visit him. Scott was an extremely personable guy, and he knew everyone in the wrong business. “Actually Scott, that is what I came to talk to you about.”
Scott clasped his hands together on the metal table, leaning forward. “I’m all ears.”
Clearing her throat, Y/N whispered, “I need to track someone down by the name of Thor and I need it to be done as discreetly as possible.”
Scott slammed his hand on top of the table, the bang ringing around the room. Everyone’s eyes shot to the pair. Realizing his mistake, Scott held his hands up at the guards who began to approach the table. Scott began to fumble over his words explaining he wasn’t being violent, but Y/N tuned him out. Staring at Bucky who kept his murderous glare locked on Scott, Y/N turned to Sam who looked equally as furious.
“Ma’am,” a guard called, snapping his fingers in her face.
Y/N jumped, tilting her head back to face the guard.
“Are you okay?”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Y/N nodded. “We’re fine.”
“Keep it down over here.” The guard eyed the two of them for a moment before turning on his heel.
Once the guard disappeared, Y/N waved a hand at Sam dismissing him. Then she reached across the table and flicked Scott in the forearm.
“Ouch,” he began rubbing his arm, “What was that for.”
“For causing a scene. What part of discrete did you not understand? Isn’t discretion part of your job?”
Scott gestured around the room. “I never said I was good at it.” Clearly or he wouldn’t have been caught several times. “Anyway, you’re looking for Odinson?”
Y/N nodded leaning back in her chair.
A dopey grin graced his face, “Well, you’re hot.”
Y/N’s eyebrows raised, “Excuse me?”
“The hot and cold game. Me and Cassie play it all the time.” When Y/N didn’t respond, Scott waved his hand. “Forget it.” He leaned closer, “Thor is here.”
Eyes widening, Y/N pressed her palms against the edge of the table steadying herself. “In the prison?!”
Scott nodded, “Apparently royalty isn’t above the law. At least not overseas anyway. Boozie one he is.” He began to mimic a drunken man passed out.
“Well, can I meet with him?”
The man tilted his head pursing his lips. “Thor is in solitary confinement for fighting the guards.” Y/N frowned. Her plan had been a dead end. Steve was right. She should have listened to him. “But I know a guy who can get a message to him when he gets out.” Scott offered. Y/N perked up nodding enthusiastically. Scott jerked his head to his left. “They frequent the same circle. He could get the message to Odinson.” Y/N followed the direction his head pointed and snorted. Bucky.
“He’s a cool guy. I think you’d like ‘em.”
Y/N held back a laugh at the irony as she glanced down at her ring. “Thanks, Scott. Can I give Cassie a message?”
“Actually, just send her one of those creepy dolls she likes so much. She’ll know it’s from me.”
Y/N rolled her eyes before squeezing his hand. “Will do. Thanks, Lang.”
Scott raised his hand signaling the end of their conversation. In a matter of seconds, he was escorted out of the room leaving Y/N alone at the table with her thoughts. In chess, the king wasn’t useless, he could still take pieces out and make moves. He was just limited, like Bucky. It was his turn to make a move.
Y/N stood, approaching Sam and Bucky. Without a word, Sam rose from his seat sending Bucky a nod before moving to stand to talk with one of the guards. Y/N was grateful that he chatted with the guards to avoid them making a fuss over her and Bucky not having an appointment.
Bucky would have stood and waited for her to sit if it wouldn’t draw attention to them. He yearned to hold her in his arms but that wasn’t going to happen, at least not now. Instead, he let his eyes shamelessly roam her face and body. Y/N blushed under his gaze and didn’t hesitate to grasp his open palm, outstretched on the table. Bucky squeezed her hand, his eyes admiring the ring on her finger.
“You got the ring,” he observed. Y/N hummed in response. Bringing her hand up to his mouth, his lips grazed the back of her hand. “I can’t wait to get out of here so I can fuck you wearing only this,” he growled, pressing his lips against her knuckle.
“Bucky,” Y/N gasped.
He sent her a sly grin adjusting the ring on her finger. He knew just what to say to make her squirm. “Sam told me you’ve been making some big changes. Good to know you haven’t changed that much.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes, “Why didn’t you tell me what you had planned?” 
Bucky didn’t need her to elaborate on what she meant. He knew she was talking about putting her in charge. For a long moment, he said nothing, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. Y/N tightened her grip on his hand, reminding him of the question he had yet to answer.
Bucky exhaled, thumbing the ring on her finger. “I told you the conversations on the phone were recorded.”
Y/N bobbed her head, “We’re not on the phone now Buck. You promised to be honest with me, to let me in.”
His left shoulder slumped. “Steve and I speak in code sometimes. Makes situations like this and speaking in front of enemies easier. We’ve known each other so long that some things don’t need to be said out loud. Sometimes a look is enough.”
Y/N felt a pang of jealousy strike her heart like lightning. Bucky had always been close with Steve. They shared a bond that not even Bucky and Y/N had. Her ex-husband never let her fully in and it was the downfall of their marriage.
“You asked for my protection. Steve and I agreed that wouldn’t change no matter what, but I had to make sure you were all in before I handed you the keys to the castle.” His thumb stilled on the diamond. “Steve is mean sweetheart because I asked him to be. Not with words but I know he understood. He knows it would kill me if something happened to you. Hell,” he huffed, “it nearly killed me the first time. I already lost you once, I can’t do it again.”
Y/N frowned, “That doesn’t excuse the childish games you two play. This is why I demoted Steve. He’s not loyal to the mob, he's loyal to you.”
Bucky removed his hand from hers to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, pretty girl, you don’t get how truly important you are.”
“Steve suggested we use the wedding as bait.”
Bucky leaned back in his seat. “What do you think?”
Y/N shook her head. “I met with Scott to discuss an alternative route.” Buck nodded, glad to have some light shown on why Y/N had been talking to Lang. “He said you run with the same crowd as Thor. He’s Loki’s stepbrother.” Bucky’s eyes widened. “I need you to talk to him. Tell him I sent you. Tell him the whole story if you have to. We need him on our side.”
Bucky stared at her as if she was crazy. “The guy isn’t stable Y/N. He lost his eye in a fight. He’s in solitary confinement. The guy could snap if he learns that his brother has a hit list on us. He could kill me.”
Y/N chuckled. “Don’t tell me New York’s big bad mob boss is afraid of a big oaf. Thor is nothing like Loki. He’s a good guy. He wants to help Loki.”
Ignoring her comment, Bucky pressed, “And what do I tell him when he asks how we're going to help him? I don’t think he’ll take well to us planning to kill his brother.”
Glancing around the room for anyone listening, Y/N leaned forward hissing, “We are not killing him.”
Bucky winked, “Got it.”
“I’m serious, Bucky. If we can get Thor to help us, we can lure Loki out and Thor can take Loki home to get help.”
“And if he refuses? If he gets away?”
“I need you to trust me. I know this family better than anyone else on our side.”
Bucky signed. “Should I be worried about the number of men you know that are sitting in prison?”
“You’re in prison,” Y/N pointed out.
The brunette nodded, running his fingers through his beard. “I trust you.”
“Good, because you report to me now. Not Steve, not Sam, not Peter. Me.”
Bucky groaned, “Careful darling, keep talking like that and I might not be able to wait until I get out of here.”
Next Chapter
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gravitywonagain · 10 months ago
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Sympathy for the Devil; part 2
discord got me to finally write a connecting scene, so here! have some more of this nonsense au now based only vaguely on the blacklist! [part 1]
~~
“Alright. What do we know about him?”
Luo Qingyang stands at the back of the small conference room facing the large projector screen on the opposite wall. Her uniform jacket is draped over the back of the chair in front of her, and her fingers curl and uncurl of their own volition, kneading the dark blue fabric into the cushion beneath it. This is not what she expected her morning to look like. 
Her team -- her and Lan Wangji’s team, now -- is gathered at the table in front of her. 
Nie Zonghui has several stacks of photocopied notes spilling out of an open manilla folder, two highlighters, four sizes of sticky notes, and a legal pad in front of him. He has blue ink on his neck where the tip of the pen resting behind his ear rubs whenever he turns his head to the left. Frustration rolls off of him in waves. 
Lan Jingyi is typing rapidly on his CBC-issued laptop which is angled toward Luo Qingyang just enough that she can see he has six different windows open and is in desperate need of at least two external monitors. The overworked fan is almost louder than his heavy-handed, caffeine-fuelled typing. He’s twisting back and forth in the swivel chair, dragging his toes across the carpet, but swivels to a stop at her question. 
Qin Su stands off to Luo Qingyang’s right, placing photos -- mostly grainy or blurred -- in an ever expanding evidence map. At the top, with a dozen or so threads leading away from its pin, is a crisp, clean, photo of a man wearing an approximation of the CBC Academy uniform, smiling brilliantly at the camera. Beneath him, the title card reads: Yiling Laozu, Wei Wuxian. 
“Yiling Laozu?” asks Lan Jingyi, one foot tapping out a vague rhythm against the leg of the conference table. 
Luo Qingyang restrains her eyeroll, only because she can see that at least four of the open windows on his laptop are chasing down information regarding Yiling Laozu’s associates, rather than the demonic kingpin himself. 
“Yeah,” she says. “Break it down for me.” 
“Well,” says Qin Su, moving from the board to the open folio near her, “he’s a bit of a recluse, so we don’t actually know a lot.”
Her folio is much better organized than Nie Zonghui’s. 
“Start with the basics.”
Qin Su nods, “Right. Yiling Laozu. Wanted for-- basically every kind of spiritual crime known to the CBC. He invented the Ghost Path in his late teens or early twenties, we think. It’s unclear, what with all of the rumor and suspicion and superstition around even saying his name--”
“Yeah, he really looks like a boogeyman…” says Nie Zonghui. He’s stressed. They should never have sent him into the room with Wei Wuxian. 
Lan Jingyi says, “Hot boogeyman. If you ask me--”
Luo Qingyang clears her throat pointedly. “Nobody did. Moving on?”
“Yup!” 
Qin Su points to Lan Jingyi who taps a few keys on his -- very abused -- keyboard and takes over the projector. He throws several pages up on the wall, photos with short but damning rap sheets. 
“Known associates include Gui Jiangjun and Mo Daifu,” she says, indicating the sheets labeled Wen Qionglin and Wen Qing respectively. 
She points to Lan Jingyi again and a very low-light black and white shot comes up center-screen. It shows a man who could potentially be Wei Wuxian entering a building that is definitely Two Fans. The brilliant green of the sign is lost, but it is plenty readable. “He has been seen entering the Headshaker’s club on several occasions, but any actual association remains speculative at best.” 
Nie Zonghui shrugs in the corner of Luo Qingyang’s eye. “He might just have good taste in venues.” 
All three other agents in the room turn to look at him, brows quirked or furrowed or raised to different degrees. 
Nie Zonghui shrugs again, “What? It’s a nice club.”
--
Wei Wuxian rubs at the zip tie dent around the outside of his wrists. He plays it up a little, wincing and groaning just enough to be heard. 
Still, Lan Wangji doesn’t look at him. 
It’s fine. 
He follows the CBC Director and field agents out of the interrogation room and down a long, boring hallway. Lan Qiren and the other cultivator break off through one of the nondescript doors -- room 129-9, Wei Wuxian notes out of habit -- and then it’s just Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian following Lan Wangji. Down a long, boring hallway. 
It feels like old times. Especially as Wei Wuxian finds his eyes… wandering. 
The Bureau slacks look unfairly good on Lan Wangji, blue wool hugging tight to the curves of his legs and ass in a way no law enforcement uniform should ever be allowed to do. It’s rude. He must get them tailored. 
Lan Wangji leads him through another nondescript door -- room 157-3 -- which opens up into a large bullpen. Heads swivel in their direction, eyes snagging on Wei Wuxian and his casual state of dress. Everybody else in here is wearing uniforms in one state of undress or another, while Wei Wuxian is wearing ripped black jeans and a heather red v-neck. Hopefully he’ll get his jacket back soon. He spent a good amount of time stitching talismans into it; he’d like not to have wasted the effort. 
Eyes un-snag; heads swivel back toward screens. Wei Wuxian remembers the strength of Lan Wangji’s glare and he imagines it’s only become more powerful with age and seniority. He can practically feel the shiver up his own spine. 
Or maybe that is a shiver up his spine. 
It’s strangely nostalgic, being here, even though Wei Wuxian is fairly certain he has never been in this particular room before. But that doesn’t really matter. The layout is the same, the furniture is the same, even the smell is the same. The computers have been updated, at least, but not within this decade. 
Lan Wangji’s office is nice. Clean and minimalist, as expected. Stark white walls, a meticulously curated bookcase, and a matching walnut and glass-top desk. No pictures, no wall art, not even a particularly fancy name plate. The closest thing to a personal touch anywhere in the room is the tea set Lan Wangji’s mother made for him before she died. Wei Wuxian’s fingertips still remember the soft, inexpert curves of the cups. 
The door clicks closed behind him and the silence that settles is almost crushing. 
Tension pulls the lines of Lan Wangji’s shoulder blades toward the middle of his back, which is still turned to Wei Wuxian. His hands slowly curl into fists by his side. 
A familiar ache twists in Wei Wuxian’s gut -- has been twisting in his gut for almost an hour now. The ache for Lan Wangji’s eyes to be on him. The ache for his attention, for his reaction. Anything, really. Since the day he met Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian has always just wanted to break through that barrier Lan Wangji puts around himself, and to really touch him. 
Metaphorically. 
And literally, but that’s something else. 
Probably. 
Now, Lan Wangji’s long braid shifts across the navy fabric of his uniform coat as he turns his head to the side, the shining plait slipping like snake scales through water. Wei Wuxian holds his breath, waiting for the bite. He watches the tension held in Lan Wangji’s jaw forcibly release, and then, finally:
“Wei Ying.”
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sylliisimz · 1 year ago
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The Assembly
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Alliver pins pictures gathered from the crime scenes to the cork board in front of him, attempting to connect the dots to the homicides that's happened the prior.
The incidents happened in Brindleton Bay late into the night, and early into the morning hours.
[A]: " So far, there was no way of knowing for sure who did it because there were no eyewitnesses.
The Bay isn't an area to have high surveillance, so without witnesses, the suspect is still yet to be identified."
The deputy rattles off the thoughts racing through his mind, giving the team insight on the situation.
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Meanwhile, at home, Shellii was telling her friend an unbelievable story.
[S]: "And the octopus ran off with the fish and inked us!"
Maisyn, Shelli's cousin swings from the jungle gym.
Alliver's baby sister plays by herself amongst his daughter's friends.
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Soon, Luna and the groups classmate leave the property as the night creeps out.
Shellii joins Maisyn on the jungle gym, swinging from bar to bar and racing one another to the other side.
[S]: "I thought Bats could fly, Maisyn!"
[M]: "We glide, SeaShell!"
[S]: "HEY!"
Shellii turns, reaching and climbing to the other side, passing her cousin along the way.
[A]: "SHELLIII SHOUUURRRRR!!!"
Deputy Fourtu-O returns home, after some time out on the field, calling Shelli inside from outside, and ushering his niece to go home.
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[M]: "Any luck on that case you were telling me about the other night, hun?''
Malani asks her husband about work, while he tosses a bottle of wine he used to season the pan in front of him, up and above his own head.
Shelli pours some oil on the dough in front of her, glazing it before her dad puts it in the oven for her.
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Alliver talks to his wife, discussing the matter of work that day.
[A]: "All we have right now is eye witnesses, but the description is too vague to pin it in anyone just yet."
[S]: "What did this person do exactly, daddy?"
Shelli inquisitively asks, without a second thought.
[A]: "If I tell you, you'll lose your appetite.."
[M]: "And that's exactly why we're not going to discuss this any further, I'm starving."
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The next day Alliver goes back to the station, pinning more and more cues together.
DiNG
Upon sudden interruption, Al pulls his phone from the front pocket of his uniform pants, clearing the irrelevant thread of notifications before opening the most recent.
URGENT: Sibling Assembly @ Caldera Camp - 8pm
It's been such a long time since a Sibbling Assembly Summoning
Al thinks to himself, finishing his duties before being beconed laterfor the evening.
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The late hour creeps up and over the horizon after the sun finally sat, allowing the vamprismic siblings to enjoy the beachy air, awaiting the starlight.
Alliver greets his sister warmly first [A]: "HEY-HO, SISO"
[M]:"What is this about, Al?"
[K]: "Yeah, man I have a shift at the club tonight. I can't trust my crew to the place by themselves yet."
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[A]: "I didn't send for you guys, I was at work when I got the message."
Mushi, Kassiroll, and Alliver try to sort out who summoned the assembly, and why, while Colbi ushers in. Flying in presenting his bat form, the breeze from the creatures flapping wings wisps the strands form Malani's hair.
[M]: "AuhH"
The merwoman of Sulani cries out in exclamation to the bat flying in her face.
[A]: "Its fine, darling! It's just Colbi Jack."
Alfuh, Mushi's son, talks to his cousin, Shelli, as the grown ups gather in front of the house to greet one another.
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After a moment of speaking, the siblings gathered insight into who sent the Assembly Summoning from one another and moved the party from outside, to inside.
Alfuh stayed outside, enjoying the scenario he wasn't familiar with, being a Willow Creek resident.
Colbi and Kassiroll find themselves both taking a step outside to catch a breath of beachy air.
Colbi stands off to the side away from his older brother, although not worrying about him noticing- he lights up a cigarette and begins dragging it down, stressing over the situation at hand.
Alpha got tired of the calluses forming on his palms, and made his way towards the house before stopping to see his two uncles matching in the same outfit.
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[A]:"Are you two twins or something?"
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[K]: "Not quite, we're both twins, We're just not one another's twin."
[A]: "What?"
Alfuh shot a puzzled look back and forth between the two similar brothers.
[C]: "His twin is inside the hut."
Colbi shuffled the words through the hand holding his cigarette to his lips
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[A]: "And where's your twin?"
[C]: "Not here."
[K]: "That's exactly why you and your mom are here with us."
The late evening carries on into early morning, and Mushi wakes Alfuh up from his nap earlier in the night.
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[A]: "Sorry sis, do you work today?"
[M]: "I work every day, Al."
[A]: "MOOmMY, WHY CAN'T I JUST SLEEP HERE AND TAKE SHELLI'S BUS TO SCHOOL?"
Alfuh yells in a sleepy tyrant.
[M]: "Because, I don't trust a random bus driver keeping an eye on you! You're coming with me that's final."
Mushi keeps a smiling face, gritting her teeth at her eldest son, darting daggers with her eyes before turning to her brother again.
[M]: "It's my fault, I should've went home hours ago."
[A]: "At least some of this is starting to make some sense to us all."
[M]: "Hardly, but sure, Al. I'll see ya."
Mushi turns with a smile, walking away expecting her son to follow.
[A]: "Uncle Al, thanks for inviting us. I wanna check out the beach one night... Okay, bye!"
[A]: "Bye now, Alfuh.."
Alfuh runs off to catch up with his mother who was yards ahead by now.
Alliver stayed back, watching him and his sister turn down the bay on their way back home.
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crazyunsexycool · 3 years ago
Text
The Sun, The Moon & The Stars
Chapter 1: The Sun
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Sam Wilson,
Word Count: 6.0k
Warnings: physical assault on reader, masturbation (f rec), a bit of a slow burn. If you feel like I forgot something please let me know.
Minors DNI
Please don’t copy, rewrite, translate or repost my works. No permission is given to use my works in any capacity even with credit.
A/N: This is my first time writing A/B/O Please be kind. I've read a few different versions of A/B/O and I'm making a few changes that I think will suit this story. As those changes become relevant I'll let you know!
Series Master list
It was a shame you had to work today since it was such a beautiful day. The sunlight filtered in through the windows as a reminder that you would be out of work late and wouldn’t get to enjoy the warmth of the day. The afternoon was passing so slowly and the community center was almost empty. There was no task that required immediate attention. A reprieve from the madness that seemed to buzz throughout the halls constantly. You knew it would all change once summer vacation started for the kids in school and the center had more activities to offer. 
The slow afternoon was the perfect time to update the bulletin board with new announcements, ads and class schedules that had been sent into the center. You grabbed the phone, a notepad and a pen and placed it on top of the counter that connects to your desk so you could grab it without having to rush around. You take the stack of flyers that you’ll be pinning on the board across your desk and place it on one of the chairs that is under the board itself, along with the small trash bin to throw away the old ones. You start to review the papers on the board removing any that aren’t relevant anymore. 
You’ve been able to work on about a third of the board. Replacing the old flyers with new one. Stopping every so often when the phone rings and you answer questions, redirect a call or book one of the activity rooms. It helped to keep you distracted but it still felt like your work day would never end. You’re so wrapped up in reading through some flyers you find interesting that you don’t hear the footsteps behind you. It’s not until the scent hits you, one that twists your stomach into knots and makes you nauseous, that you turn around. 
Fuck. 
A smirk displayed on his face as he got closer. He takes his time looking you up and down, undressing you with his dark brown eyes. His black hair is short and styled back away from his slim face. He stands with his shoulders squared and proud puffing out his chest. This is almost like a courting ritual you see animals doing in documentaries except you’ve rejected this man multiple times, he just doesn’t want to take no for an answer. He’s tall, strong and confident. He’s dressed in his usual black button up shirt, black slacks and black dress shoes. He has a thick gold chain around his neck and a few rings on his fingers. He’s pure alpha bundled up in an asshole packaging. 
“Hello Y/N, you look absolutely delectable.” 
You grimace as you round your desk trying to keep some distance between you two. You sit at your chair and move the mouse of your computer, trying to act busy.
“Mr. Romano, how can I help you today? Did you want to book one of the activity rooms?” You look up at him and mentally cross your fingers that he won’t give you a hard time today. 
“Please call me Luca, how many times will I have to ask?” He leans against the counter, arms laying flat but crossed in front of him.
“Well Mr. Romano I am at work and I don’t think it would be very professional on my part to call you by your first name. So what can I do for you?”
“You can go out with me tomorrow. You can call me Luca then, and if you’re lucky I’ll have you screaming it by the end of the night eh. What do you say?”  He winks at you as his scent gets stronger, to say you found his scent revolting was an understatement. It put you off the first time you met him and to this day you try not to gag. This has become his weekly ritual. Every Friday like clockwork he shows up to ask you out and no matter how many times you say no he is here the next week. Thinking that if he is persistent you’ll crack and say yes.
“You’re disgusting, I’ve told you multiple times that I’m not interested and I’m going to ask you to leave or I’ll call security to escort you out.” You scrunch up your face as his scent continues its assault. 
“Come on omega just go out once, I know you’re going to love my knot.” He smirks.
You grab the phone and start dialing the extension for the security desk. As you bring the phone to your ear Luca grabs your wrist and yanks you out of the chair towards him. The desk digging into your hip makes you wince. 
“Hang up, now!” His voice is low and harsh. It’s an alpha command and it sends a slight shiver down your spine but it doesn’t affect you the way he thinks it should. You grab the phone’s receiver with your free hand and place it to your ear. 
“Jonah,” you pause listening to the man on the other end “yeah I do need you up here. Bring back up, it's Luca Romano again.” You say as you keep eye contact with Luca and then hang up. 
“Let go of my fucking wrist.” You snap as you try to pull yourself away from him. The struggle only makes him hold on tighter as he twists your arm. His hold on your wrist is like a vice grip and you cry out in pain as you feel a pop. He tries to walk around the desk but if he takes a step in one direction you move the opposite way, an angry alpha is something you don’t want to deal with alone and you try to keep the desk between both of you. The sound of heavy footsteps bounces off the walls of the hallway, the two security guards approach quickly and Luca is ripped away from you. You’re quick to cradle your injured wrist with your other hand.
“Hey are you ok?” Jonah asks as he makes his way toward you. He gently takes your hand and inspects your wrist but the subtle movement makes you yelp in pain. “You’re gonna have to go to the emergency room for this Y/N. Hopefully it’s just sprained. Let us take care of this piece of shit and I’ll go with you.” He says as he grabs the phone to call the cops. As Richard, the other security guard, pulls Luca up from the floor. 
“Can’t even take an alpha command. What happened omega, did someone break you?”  He puts up a fight and throws curses at you as he gets dragged back down the hallway by Richard. Being called broken hurts, it’s not like it’s your fault that you aren’t an omega. 
“It’s ok I can go by myself Jonah, you’ll have to wait for the cops here and there’ll be paperwork to fill out. You’ve already done more than enough for me.” 
“I’m going with you and that’s final. Let’s just wait until the cops get here.” He says gently as he places a hand on your shoulder to reassure you. “Are you going to press charges? This is the first time he gets physical with you, we don’t want him coming back.” You simply nod, you don’t want to see that alpha around you again. 
“Atta girl.”
You’ve been working at the center for two years already and although it’s not always easy you love your job. On your very first day you brought in some homemade pastries and that’s how you became fast friends with the two security guards. They managed to eat half of the baked goods you’d brought in by mid-morning and when they were cut off by the rest of the staff they came to find the new girl asking if you would bring those sweet treats on a regular basis. Although you did it as a way to introduce yourself, you couldn’t deny the two alphas. It’s one of your favorite memories of the place, seeing two huge alphas ask for more sweets like if they were pups asking for a toy at a store. You of course agreed, how could you deny them? In exchange they offered extra protection which at the time made you laugh. Since day one you’ve both kept up your end of the deal, you make a mental note to bring in something extra special as a thank you.
“They’re ready for your statement.” Jonah says pulling you out of your thoughts.
You sit with one of the cops and give them all the information they need. You explain that Luca had been asking you out for almost two years and you’ve always refused and that this was the first time he got physical. The ache in your wrist seems to worsen as you try to finish as fast as possible. The cop takes the rest of your information and gets up to leave, exchanging a few last words with Jonah. 
“Ok sweets, let’s go.” You smile at your nickname, it’s what they dubbed you after making your deal. “Richard already called Mr. Burke to inform him of what happened so expect a call soon.” He makes his way back around your desk to grab your purse and  your keys to lock up your drawers. You look up at him confused when you see him grab the jacket you keep at the center since they manage to keep the building cold at all times.
“You’ll be cold at the hospital.” He shrugs as he escorts you out of the building and toward the hospital.
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If Sam, Steve and Bucky had to choose they would say this was the difficult part of being an avenger. They can handle hand to hand combat, guns being fired at them and even explosives but this is hard.
 There is another click of the camera, some more smiling, and one more deep breath as they make their way through the children’s ward of the hospital. This is the one place they feel like they can’t do anything to help, so instead they do what they can. They answer the questions kids have and tell them stories, the three alphas did anything they could to see some smiles. 
“This never gets easier does it?” Sam asks as they head to the elevator.
“Not really, but seeing some smiles is always good.” Steve replies as he wraps an arm around Sam’s shoulder and places a kiss on his temple as they wait for the elevator to descend. Although the three men have mated and bonded with each other, they keep their public displays of affection to a minimum. Both Steve and Bucky can feel Sam’s emotions through their bond so it’s natural for them to try to comfort him. It especially hits close to home for Sam, he can’t help but think of his nephews being in a hospital and feeling helpless to make them better.  
“How about we go back to the tower, change and go to that bar you like?” Bucky asks as he leans against the wall of the elevator. 
“Yeah, I could use a drink or two.” 
“Ok, to the bar it is. We don’t have any meetings or training early tomorrow so we can get wasted.”
“We, Steve?  Sounds like too many people. Me, I will get drunk tonight. No you’ll get me drunk and then the two of you will still get handsy.”
“Can you blame us?” Bucky whispers in Sam’s ear just before the doors open granting them access to the main floor. Sam laughs at that. 
“Yes I can and I will. I’ll be the one dealing with the hangover.”
They make their way to the hospital administrator that had welcomed them to say their final goodbyes. As they cross the hall another alpha rushes by almost knocking Bucky down. That has him on edge immediately and he turns in the direction the alpha went but a hand on his chest stops him. 
“Woah calm down Buck. I’ll deal with it.” Sam says. The scent was strong and slightly acidic Sam knew something was wrong.
He makes his way down the hallway following the scent until he gets outside. He looks around the area trying to find who he was looking for. He turns the corner and runs right into the alpha. He was bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Sam could smell the distress rolling off the alpha in waves and he knew the man in front of him was on the verge of a panic attack, which could cause him to go feral. The Alpha growls as he sees Sam. He lowers himself so that the man in front of him can see him and he keeps his hands up to show he isn’t a threat.
“Take a deep breath for me, in through your nose, out through your mouth.” He gives his instruction in a calming low voice. “That’s it, just breathe.” Sam keeps talking, keeping him distracted. After a few minutes his breathing was back to normal and he was able to stand up.
“Thanks man, I don’t know if I would have gotten through that one.” He stretched out a hand. “Name’s Jonah.”
“Sam, I’m just glad I could help. Everything ok?”
“Yeah, I brought a friend into the emergency room and they rushed someone by us that had been in an accident. I guess seeing them laying there with blood all over triggered this.” He motions to himself.
“Vet?” Sam asks.
“Yeah, I did three tours. I’ve been out for a while now.” 
“You know I have some friends that work with vets that are discharged. How about I bring you some information?” Sam offers, his instinct to help other veterans is always strong.
“No, I'm good. I should get back to my friend but thank you for your help.”
“Yeah no problem man. Take care of yourself.” Sam says as he shakes Jonah’s hand. Each man going their separate way.
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You can’t help but wonder where it went wrong, today was supposed to be an easy day, then you were supposed to go home and enjoy a glass or two of wine, some food and a good movie. 
As expected you spent some hours in the ER waiting room. Jonah had rushed out after someone was rushed in from a bad car accident but you weren’t unable to follow. You did the next best thing which was to have a water bottle from the vending machine ready when he came back. It didn’t happen often at work but you were aware of his panic attacks. It did surprise you to see him back so soon. His scent still weighed down with the emotional exhaustion of a panic attack. You offer him the water bottle which he takes as he gives you a small smile. You insisted he go home but he sits by you and you lay your head on his shoulder already tired by the events of the day. 
A torn ligament in your wrist the Dr. had suspected. After a physical exam and then a confirmation through an MRI he was proven right. Fortunately all you really needed was a wrist splint and something for the pain. With a follow up in a few weeks and you should be fine. Before he left he assured you the scent gland in your wrist was unharmed and that you would be ok if you followed his instructions. Jonah being the protective person he is, listened to everything the Dr. said in part it was to put it in his report for work and the other reason was to make sure you followed through. He took you home and made sure you were comfortable, he left for about half an hour and came back with the filled prescriptions and your favorite take out. 
“You call me if you need anything ok?” he says as he heads towards your door.
“I will, thank you for everything Jonah.” You smile at him. If you could have a mate you would have been happy with someone like Jonah, he was always so attentive and easy to be around.
“Ok sweets, get some rest.” he smiles and heads out. 
You spend your Saturday trying to do some cleaning and laundry but with your wrist in a splint it’s a bit difficult, luckily your dominant hand was unharmed which was the only good you found in the situation. After a while of trying to fold some clothes you give up and sit on your couch with the idea of trying again on Sunday. The next day doesn’t go any better in terms of getting anything done. It was difficult to sleep and not cause yourself more pain. The only thing you manage to do is bake some treats for the boys. So you get everything you’ll need for the next day and set the alarm up slightly earlier than normal, giving yourself extra time to get ready.
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Monday morning at work is going better than you thought. You did have some emails to catch up on and some phone calls to return and you thanked your lucky star that nothing serious had come up. Your favorite security guards came by constantly to check on you and do any of the physical tasks that you can’t complete and maybe to take another piece of the cookie bars you brought for them.
You had just returned from lunch and were placing your purse in the cubby you had behind your desk when you were hit with an intoxicating scent. The scent pulled you in and gave you a sense of comfort. The notes of sandalwood, warm spices and citrus reminded you of being out in the sun. When you finally saw the alpha responsible, you had butterflies in your stomach. Warm, inviting brown eyes and a bright smile, he was the embodiment of sunshine. You couldn’t help but return his smile as he came up to your desk. 
He was an Alpha and you didn’t need his scent to confirm it. In your personal experience most alphas tend to impose their designation on everyone in their vicinity. Being around alphas could be stressful and dangerous. Everyone knew they could be protective and loyal but no one ever spoke of the negative qualities like how they could be possessive, controlling and violent or how they thought that their designation was a free pass to do as they pleased. The exception to these negative qualities were your 2 alpha friends Jonah and Richard and apparently the alpha in front of you. He wasn’t domineering, his body language was relaxed but confident and fuck was he handsome. He was tall and a wall of pure muscles, you couldn’t help but think about how it would feel to be wrapped up in his arms. You know you would be safe and protected.The more you looked at him the more he seemed familiar but you couldn’t really place him.
“Hi I’m Sam, I'm looking for Jonah.” He says as he stretches his hand out, that smile still on his lips. As you put your hand in his, there was an awakening within you. The darkness that had overflowed your hindbrain lit up with the spark you felt as you shook his hand. Like the first firework to light up a hot summer night sky. You blinked a few times at this new sensation. As he let go of your hand his fingers brushed over your wrist causing that spark to travel down your body and settle low in your belly, warm, tingling and new. You managed to clear your throat before speaking.
“Hi I’m Y/N, let me call him down for you.” You grab your phone and dial the extension for the security office. He observed you for just a moment.
“Hey Jonah, I have Sam here looking for you.” You say into the phone while looking at Sam’s back. He had turned to look at the bulletin board and then typing away on his phone. “Sure no problem.”
“He’ll be down in just a moment.” 
“Thank you.” Sam replies as he turns to look at you. He makes his way back to you and stands in front of the counter, his eyes never leaving yours and you feel drawn to him in a way you’ve never felt with anyone before. It seems like the feeling is mutual as he keeps his eyes on you the whole time. It’s not intimidating and you aren’t afraid of being alone with Sam.
“Would you like a cookie bar?” You blurt out trying to fill the silence. 
“A cookie bar?” He asks with a raised brow. He watches as you move around and bring out a tupperware container and a napkin. 
“Not just a cookie bar, a 7-layer magic cookie bar.” You say as you put the container and napkins in front of him. You smile, hoping the alpha before you likes the dessert. Which is weird because you’ve never cared for the approval of an alpha before.
“Well how can I say no to you and magic cookies?” He chuckles as he grabs one and takes a bite. His eyes close for a moment as he lets out a pleased hum. 
“This,” he says as he holds up the sweet treat. “Is the best cookie bar I’ve ever had. Did you make this?”  You nod in response.
“I bet you say that about all cookies.” You reply, your smile matching his. “Can I ask you something?” 
He nods and waits for you to speak. Finishing off the last piece of the cookie.
“Have we met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere.” 
“No we haven’t, I know for a fact I’d remember you.” He winks, making you blush. He grabs his phone when it goes off again and you can’t help but notice the smile he has as he looks at his phone. 
Jonah’s voice breaks your train of thought. You watch both men greet each other before Sam explains that he read the center’s name on Jonah’s uniform. Jonah turns to look at you, well not at you but the container on the counter and you can see how excited he was for another piece. 
“Did you even eat lunch yet? This is like your fourth piece.”
“Yes I already ate, sweets. Would you like one Sam?” Jonah asks. 
“I already had one.” Sam says his eyes moving from Jonah to you. Like he was trying to assess the relationship between the two of you.
 “Actually, I just came to drop these off for you man.” He says as he pulls out some brochures and business cards from his jacket pocket. “I know you said you were fine but it never hurts to know your options.”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks Sam, I really appreciate it.” Jonah says taking everything from Sam.
You tune out some of the conversation as you keep thinking about where you had seen Sam before. The phone rings and you answer quickly, you tell Jonah that he is being requested on the second floor. With that he says goodbye to Sam and heads out. You look at your computer quickly and see a news article that mentions the Avengers and it dawns on you. You look up, finding Sam still here.
“You’re Falcon.” You say with surprise. Your eyes wide, lips slightly parted.
“Yeah, I am.” He laughs at your expression. 
“Why didn’t you say anything when I asked if I knew you?”
“I’ve had people try some nasty things before and I don’t like to brag so if someone recognizes me then cool but if they don’t then great.” he shrugs. 
“Is it my turn to ask you something?”  
You smile at him again and nod.
“What happened here?” He says as he points at your wrist.
“Oh, an alpha got physical because I wouldn’t go out with him, twisted my wrist. It’s not so bad though. At least the Dr. said I don’t need surgery.” 
You tried to play it off but in reality it hurt like a bitch. The medication they gave you made you sleepy so for obvious reasons you couldn’t take them at work. You didn’t expect the low growl that escaped the alpha before you. 
“Was anything done about him?” He asks, his scent shifting as his anger builds. 
“A police report has been filed. I doubt anything will get done about it, someone like me isn’t as important as an alpha.”
He narrows his eyes at you, grabbing a post and a pen from the counter. He writes his number down and hands it to you. 
“In case you need help again now you have an Avenger on your side. Just text me if you want so that I can have your number too.” He winks and with that he says his goodbye as he heads out. He misses the way you blush. 
You went about your afternoon as close to normal as possible. Although you weren’t feeling so great. You were sweating a little and you felt like you were starting to get a fever. You chugged some water but it wasn’t helping, finally you removed the cardigan you had worn to work. You were uncomfortable and you needed to get out fast. You made a quick call to your boss and let him know what was going on as someone came up behind you.
“Jesus who was in here?” Richard says as he takes a deep breath.
“There was an older lady here earlier but that’s about it, why?” you furrow your brows.
“You don’t smell that? The scent is really strong .” Richard says.
“I don’t really smell anything but I’m not feeling good anyways. I already told Mr. Burke and he told me to go home. I most likely won’t be in tomorrow either.” You say, you turn when you don’t get a response. Richard is standing next to you a little too close. A small, low purr rumbles in his chest as he inhales deeply and his eyes meet yours. 
“Are you ok? Your pupils are dilated.” 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He blinks quickly a few times. “Go home I’m gonna stay here for the rest of the afternoon. You call us if you need anything.” 
Your trip home was horrible. It felt like you were on fire and your mind was hazy. All you wanted was to take a shower to hopefully cool down and your bed. You moved as fast as possible especially when you walked past a group of alphas, you swear you could hear them growl as you moved by them. Your energy was drained by the time you got home, every little bump or touch was aggravating and you felt paranoid when you noticed people staring at you as you passed by. 
Finally after what felt like an eternity you closed the door to your apartment, making sure it was locked before you started undressing in the living room. You couldn’t be bothered to put anything in the laundry basket before moving to your shower. This didn’t make sense to you, how were you running a fever you couldn’t remember being in close proximity to someone that was sick. Could you have gotten sick at the hospital? It didn’t matter at the moment, the only thing you could think about was letting the cool water hit your skin. 
You spent a good amount of time in the shower finally able to cool down enough to get out. You put on some underwear and an oversized t-shirt and head to bed. You’re uncomfortable once you lay down and you begin to rearrange your pillows. Then your blankets feel wrong so you get up again to rearrange your blankets, you end up pulling the fluffier blankets you use during winter and place them on your bed until it’s just how you like it and you’re able to fall asleep quickly. 
Sleep doesn’t last as long as you’d hope. You whimper in your bed as you feel an ache between your legs and slick coat your inner thighs. A thin layer of sweat covering your skin you have no choice but to go back to the shower. The cool water helps ease the heat radiating off of you but it’s only helping one of your problems.
 You lean your head back against the tiled wall and close your eyes and instantly your mind is flooded with the alpha you met that afternoon. Sam’s deep voice, those brown eyes and that smile. Not to mention his broad chest and muscular arms that you could picture wrapped around you. You unconsciously let your hand drift down between your legs, your fingers creating small circles around your bundle of nerves. You could picture Sam’s hands exploring your body and his lips on yours giving you a messy and passionate kiss. You quickly push two fingers inside you, imagining what it would be like if it were him giving you pleasure. You keep a steady pace while your thumb keeps drawing circles on your clit. Using your other hand you roll your nipple between your thumb and forefinger you mewl as you feel yourself on the edge of bliss. Slick covers your fingers as you pick up the pace feeling that coil low in your belly tighten. Moaning, you curve your fingers finding that spongy spot that has you falling over the edge. 
You lean against the wall as you catch your breath. The ache you feel isn’t completely gone but it’s manageable. You finish cleaning yourself up and head to bed deciding to not wear any pajamas this time around. Your last thoughts as you fall asleep is his scent and the sensation you felt as you shook his hand.
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Sam made his way back to the tower, his thoughts consumed by the pretty omega at the center with a scent that was about to send him into a rut earlier than expected. He thought his pack was complete when he met Steve and Bucky, he never considered mating and bonding with an omega after the three of them got together. But your smile was mesmerizing, your eyes were bright when you looked at him and overall he just wanted to be near you. He did his best to memorize your features. He couldn’t see all of you since you sat behind that counter but he was sure you would fit perfectly against him. The spark he felt when you shook hands he wondered if you felt it too, he knew his mates did. The bond was wide open and the moment Sam felt his senses consumed by you Steve and Bucky began to message him. Indirectly they felt the need to be close to whatever or whoever was causing Sam to let his guard down, to understand why Sam was feeling the way he was. 
He barely steps into their shared apartment when the questions start.
“So what was that about?” Bucky asks coming to a stop right in front of Sam, giving him a quick kiss. 
“Honestly I’m just as confused as you are.” As they walk in further into the apartment. Getting to the living room Sam sits in one of the armchairs as Bucky and Steve share the couch.
“The last time any of us felt that was when you and Bucky met.” Steve adds. Sam and Steve had an instant connection when they met while running in D.C. Sam was accepting of Steve’s previous relationship with Bucky before he fell off the train. Sam assured him nothing changed between them and they could go slow if Steve wanted to. It all changed when they ran into Bucky as the winter soldier, with Sam and Bucky also feeling that spark that let them know the three were true mates. 
Of course after the fall of Shield and Hydra Bucky went on the run and it took some time for Steve and Sam to find him and bring him back. They respected Bucky’s wishes of not claiming each other until he was free of the hold Hydra had on him but once he was his life finally began. 
“So is it another alpha that you met?” Steve asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He could be very protective of his mates and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to deal with another alpha.
“No actually, you remember when we went to the hospital on Friday and as we were leaving that alpha almost knocked you down Buck?” 
Bucky and Steve both nod. 
“Well he is a vet and he was in the midst of a panic attack. I went by his job today to drop off some brochures of programs that could help him. While I was there I met the receptionist and she was the most beautiful omega I’ve ever met and her scent was heaven. You both would like her too.”
Both men listen to Sam and then look at each other slightly concerned. 
“An omega? We’ve been around plenty of omegas before and you’ve never brought this up, Sam do you want to court an omega?” Bucky asks his anxiousness flowing through the bond. 
“I’ve never thought about courting an omega after forming this pack with the both of you and trust me I’m not saying I need to court or claim an omega. She was just different.” Sam says as he moves to the couch giving Bucky another reassuring kiss. 
“But whatever you were feeling blew the bond wide open, it was overwhelming and we almost took off to find you. You can’t say there’s nothing there.” Steve says.
“We’ve never even had a conversation about bringing an omega into this relationship. I’m not going to go back there and ask her out. Do we even want an omega?” 
“What if she’s your true mate? You’re going to let her go?” 
“For her to be my true mate she would have to be yours as well, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It was just a good scent attached to a beautiful omega. It’s not that serious.” Sam shrugs knowing deep down that it is serious and he wants more of you. There was a comfortable silence between the three men as they thought about the possibilities of having an omega.
“I wouldn’t mind if we courted an omega.” Steve speaks up after a while. He turns to Bucky waiting for his decision. Before the war they knew what they wanted out of life. They wanted an omega and a home to call their own to fill with pups. Then the war came and tore their hopes and dreams to shred. 
“I can’t do it. I don’t deserve an omega after everything I’ve done, especially to that designation. I won’t stand in your way if you both decide to bring omegas into this pack but I can’t ruin their life by claiming them for myself.” Bucky stands and leaves, closing their bond before the emotions get overwhelming for him.
“We won’t decide without him. For now it’s just the three of us and I’m more than happy with that.” Sam says.
“Well it might take some convincing if we really want to do this. I think he’ll come around.” Steve says as he stands, he gives Sam a kiss. “I have a briefing. I'll see you later.” 
He had stopped thinking about it a while back but to have an omega to love and care for with his mates did sound like a dream come true. He had spent a very short amount of time with you but he was very aware of the connection and he hoped for two things. First that Bucky would come around and understand that he deserved happiness and two that you would let the three of them court you, because Sam knew deep down that you were meant to be in their lives.
Ch. 2
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oh-holy-slut · 3 years ago
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Bloodlust
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Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader
Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex
Word Count: 2,6k
Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.
Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.
Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.
Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.
"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.
"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.
"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.
But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.
You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.
"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"
A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.
"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.
"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"
"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."
"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."
"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.
"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.
Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her.  On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.
It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.
"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."
Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.
"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"
Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."
"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.
"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.
Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.
And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.
Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips.  "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.
Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.
She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.
Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them.  It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"
"... look like a monster?"
Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible. 
Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."
"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.
"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..." 
A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.
"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin. 
Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip. 
During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body. 
With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.
Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.
Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.
A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.
As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly
quitted drinking from her.
"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath. 
"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."
Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.
However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."
"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.
"I wanted to get lost in you."
Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.
In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.
"Fuck me, Damon..."
The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.
"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."
Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.
"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."
A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.
With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.
From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.
He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.
"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."
Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.
As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.
He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.
"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."
His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.
Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.
Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.
Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.
"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.
Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.
He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.
Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.
Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.
With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.
"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."
Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.
Thanks guys ❤️
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rocorambles · 3 years ago
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Set My Heart Ablaze
Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader
Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Creepy Matsukawa, Obsessive Behavior, Public Train Sex
Prompt: Chikan/Trains/Public Sex
Summary: Neither of you can deny the mutual spark of interest between the two of you, but Matsukawa takes the matter of turning that spark into a fire into his own hands. Only time will tell if that fire will provide you warmth and comfort or burn you alive.
A/N: This is my submission for the HQHQ NSFW Collab! Masterlist can be found here. Be sure to check everyone’s content once the masterlist goes live tomorrow night~
The train doors open and Matsukawa briefly glances up, smiling to himself as you step onboard, looking left and right for an open spot despite how you always end up in the same corner of the moving vehicle. He doesn’t know anything about you, not even your name. Yet he finds himself drawn to the normalcy you bring, the comfort of knowing you’re a clockwork fixture of his everyday life.
It hadn’t always been like this.
Matsukawa is just a man at the end of the day and he doesn’t deny that he took note of you long before you became so ingrained in his life. But it had been no more than a man observing an attractive woman and he doesn’t give you another passing thought as he returns to gazing out the train windows.
But working with death on a daily basis makes you look at life differently.
He prides himself on being a practical and level-headed man and despite the heavy nature of his profession, he never thought he’d get too bogged down by the environment, by the grimness of his business. Sure, maybe someone like Oikawa would freak out within hours, if not minutes, of being in a funeral home surrounded by corpses and coffins. But he’s not Oikawa (thank God for that). It’s just a job to help keep a roof over his head and food on the table.
But the longer he’s surrounded by caskets, the more grieving and sobbing families and friends he has to comfort yet professionally guide through catalogs and brochures and price tags, he can slowly but surely feel the weight of his daily work resting heavy on his shoulders, digging deeper into him with every corpse and tragic story he reluctantly becomes privy to. Matsukawa finds a new appreciation for life, for every tiny and minute detail, and suddenly you aren’t just another stranger who happens to share his train route.
You’re a reminder that he’s still alive, that despite the curveballs life throws at some, he’s still blessed to enjoy the routine and monotony of it. Life looks different, clearer, as he begins to really pay attention, appreciating every moment he has.
Maybe he’s paying too much attention. He doesn’t know when he begins to focus so intently on you, shocking himself with the realization that he’s observed you so closely when he nonchalantly notices that you’re using a different tote bag than your usual one. When did Matsukawa Issei become someone who notices the details of a woman’s outfit and accessories?
He knows it’s not right, knows even Hanamaki would crinkle his nose in distaste if he found out Matsukawa was creepily studying a random unknown female on a daily basis. But he can’t help himself, his realization only seeming to make him unconsciously focus on you even more. He notices what hand you use to hold your phone. He memorizes every expression you make as your mind drifts off, lulled by the machinery of the train.
But looking from afar only satisfies him for so long and he finds himself creeping closer to you, adjusting where he sits to be closer to your preferred corner of the train. He always tells himself just a little closer, but it’s never enough. And although he’s now standing right beside you, close enough to see every eyelash, every pore of your skin, it’s still not enough. He needs to hear your voice, feel your body against his, know everything about you inside and out.
He understands the irony of the situation he’s found himself in, reminiscing on how Hanamaki and him had gagged at how disgusting men could be as they watched older businessmen grope and grab at poor unwilling female passengers on their way to and from school. He knows how wrong it is, how like an uninspired porno this is, but when the train conveniently rattles, he jostles his body into yours, “accidentally” bumping into you.
Acting isn’t Matsukawa’s forte, but he thinks he damn well deserves an award for the performance he’s putting on as he profusely apologizes to you, hiding the groan of satisfaction he feels from the brief contact he’d had with you, from the way your attention is solely focused on him, from the way your voice seeps into his ears like the loveliest melody he’s ever heard. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, meaningless small and polite talk leaving his lips as his mind focuses on what’s more important, mentally recording every syllable and movement you make as you continue conversing with him. But whatever words are spilling out of him seem to be working and something hungry and possessive stirs in him when your face lights up as you board the train the next day, making a beeline towards where he stands as you cheerfully greet him.
Maybe it’s foolish of you to so easily trust and warm up to a complete stranger. But he’s tall, attractive, and interesting, which is more than you can say for most of the men you’ve met and your friends and family are always telling you to put yourself out there more. Is there really much of a difference between finding a random stranger on the countless dating apps you’ve installed versus connecting with one in person? You’d even argue that there’s something whimsically romantic about how the two of you met, even though you don’t know for sure if this is really going to lead to anything. But at the very least, your daily commute becomes more exciting.
You’re everything and more compared to what Matsukawa had imagined and if he thought he was infatuated with you before, he’s completely and utterly obsessed with you now. You’re all he can think of, all he can see in his mind’s eye, even hours after you’ve parted ways on your morning commute, even as he lays in bed in the middle of the night. And as his hand slips underneath the hem of his boxers, wrapping around his aching cock to his imaginations of what you’d look like writhing underneath him, how you’d sound moaning his name, he knows he needs to have you.
After all, as pretty as a meal can be, it’s ultimate purpose is to be devoured.
You giggle when the train shakes and you feel a long toned body shift into yours, squishing you against the wall you’re leaning against, sighing in bliss at how right, how good it feels to be in Matsukawa’s embrace even if it is just for a fleeting moment, a little accident all too common on jam packed trains. But your face heats when you continue feeling his warmth, when his body seems to press even further into you until you can feel the expanse of his body against yours, not even an inch of space left between you.
“Matsukawa-”
Your words are caught off by a gasp as Matsukawa buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, lips and tongue mouthing and licking the sensitive skin there. You’re confused, scared, and aroused, hands reaching up to clutch at the lapels of Matsukawa’s suit, unsure whether to hold him tight to you or push him away. And your humiliation only increases when a nearby elderly couple scowls at the two of you in disdain, clearly unamused by the scandalous gestures of what they believe to be a young couple in love.
Yet you can’t help how your heart beats faster, wondering if this is proof of Matsukawa’s attraction to you, wondering if your hidden feelings for him are returned. But this isn’t the time or place for that conversation and you fervently whisper in his ear, begging him to stop, telling him people are watching.
“Is that the only reason you want me to stop? Because people are watching?”
You grow flustered at the implied meaning of his words, shame filling you at how much you’re enjoying this, hating how your neck arches for more attention as he straightens up once more, his body hiding yours from view as he stands in front of you, still pinning you to the wall.
“Better be as still and quiet as you can, sweetheart.”
You don’t have time to register his words before your mouth opens in a pathetic whine as a calloused hand trails under the hem of your shirt, sliding across the stretch of your stomach, mapping your torso before finally shoving your bra above the swell of your breasts, kneading one of your mounds, tweaking and swirling around your hardening nipple. It feels so good and you almost succumb right then and there, lost in the predatory lustful gaze he pins you with.
But when the train makes its next stop, the conductor’s voice jars you from your trance and you clutch at Matsukawa’s forearm, silently pleading for him to stop with desperate eyes despite the way you quietly mewl when he just quirks an eyebrow and pinches your nipple in retaliation.
“We can’t- We shouldn’t-”
Your hand trembles, jaw going slack when he slides one thigh between your legs, digging his hard muscles into that already dripping hole only protected by the fabric of your pants.
“You’re not very convincing. How about we play a game? If you can tell me you don’t want this without moaning like a bitch in heat, I’ll stop.”
There’s no room for disagreement as he abruptly begins grinding his thigh into your aching cunt, flexing and relaxing his muscle in a pattern and rhythm you can’t keep up with. It takes every last bit of will power in you to not wantonly ride his leg and hump against him like the lewd slut he had just accused you of being.
“I don’t want-”
You cry out in agonized pleasure as his fingers still hovering near your breasts begin to roll your nipples between calloused tips, his thigh never losing its momentum. And under the dual points of attack, your resistance crumbles. Matsukawa’s eyes widen in awe as you bounce and roll your hips against his leg, hiding your face in his chest as you try to muffle the lewd sounds slipping past your lips in the fabric of his jacket.
You’re gorgeous like this, a needy, lustful mess. But as much as he loves to see you suffer so beautifully, there’s only so much time before your stop and he decides to have mercy on you, to reward you for being so honest, so good for him. Your face snaps up to stare at him with pupils blown wide as his hand reaches underneath the waistband of your pants and panties. He groans when his fingers are instantly soaked in your arousal, your panties sticky with your fluids and his digits slip inside of your tight wet heat with no resistance at all.
He wants nothing more than to push the pesky fabric out of the way and lay you bare for his viewing pleasure, to have easy access to thrust in and out of you. But he’ll save that for another day. Instead his fingers slip out of you, tips circling your swollen clit, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves as you resume humping his leg, body trembling, drool beginning to trickle from your lips as you frantically chase your end. And as the train stops once more, passengers trickling in and out, you silently scream, body convulsing as he brings you over the edge, pleasure washing over you and leaving you exhausted as you shiver and slump in his arms that are quick to embrace you and hold you steady as the train begins to move again.
You submissively let his fingers coated in your essence enter your mouth, obediently sucking and licking him clean, finding strange comfort in the action as you remain rested against him. But you keen in confusion, cheeks still hollowed as you mindlessly continue sucking while he guides one of your hands to the bulge in his pants.
But although Matsukawa is a man of few words, his desire is clear despite the silence and your face heats in embarrassment as he unbuttons his trousers, bringing your hand to the waistband of his boxers, dark eyes expectantly staring down at you. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Not when you can literally hear the other passengers surrounding the two of you, only Matsukawa’s tall frame hiding your illicit activity. But your body has a mind of its own and you greedily slip under the fabric barrier, moaning around his fingers at how large, hot, and heavy he is in your hands.
You hate how badly you want to see it, to feel it inside you, splitting you apart. Your pussy clenches, leaking in interest once again despite having just found blissful release mere minutes ago as your hands curiously trail up and down the shaft, trying to memorize how every bit of it feels against your skin, trying to visualize what it looks like. But you whimper as Matsukawa finally pulls his fingers free from your mouth, squeezing your jaw and giving you a warning look.
“Don’t tease me, doll.”
Your fingers wrap around the length and it’s your turn to stare up at Matsukawa with eyes full of hunger and awe as you watch his Adam’s apple swallow, as you feel a pleased groan reverberate in his chest with every stroke of your hand. Up and down. Up and down. Your hands are slick with pre-cum and you know it’s just your imagination, but you swear you can hear the lewd wet sounds of his sticky essence coating his shaft with every movement of your palm against the velvety skin. You’re so mesmerized, so lost in the experience that you startle when something hot and thick spurts onto your hand, mixing with his pre-cum, making an even bigger mess of his boxers and you.
You stare stunned at the hand you pull out from between his legs, gazing at the white and transparent fluids that coat your flesh. But before you can even think about wiping it off or scavenging around for a spare napkin or paper in your bag, a large hand grabs your wrist and brings your stained fingers to your mouth. You try to resist him, the spell he had you under broken now that the haze of lust isn’t blinding you. But his grip tightens until you wince and finally relent, stomach churning in disgust and shame as you tentatively lick at the bitter liquid.
He doesn’t release you, not until every last drop is coating the inside of your mouth, his taste heavy in your mouth, seemingly in every crevice of your orifice, your hand completely clean and void of your sinful interaction.
You want to hate him. You want to wipe the smug satisfied look clean off his face. But as you readjust your disheveled clothing, you’re reminded of your own body’s betrayal, your own carnal desire and pleasure, by the uncomfortable mess in between your legs. And all you can do is silently stand there and pretend that nothing has happened as Matsukawa nonchalantly tucks himself in and checks his phone.
There’s an uncomfortable silence as you wait for him to acknowledge what has just happened, only to be disappointed as he doesn’t even spare you another glance, too observed in the glowing screen in his hand. You wonder if this was just a one time thing, if he had been stringing you along all this time for one quick public tryst. And you hate the way that thought makes your chest hurt, hate how much you dislike the idea of never seeing him again, never talking to him again, never feeling and tasting him again.
But as the train pulls into his stop, your eyes widen when his face hovers by your ear, lips grazing your lobe as his voice melts into your soul.
“Wear a dress or skirt tomorrow. No panties or bra.”
He laughs as surprise turns into an endearing scowl that barely hides the apparent relief in your eyes and he just casually waves farewell as you send him on his way with a tirade of angry words about his fucking audacity. But it’s all empty heat and he chuckles at the self-conscious embarrassment written all over your face when he sees you the next morning, a pretty dress fluttering around your knees.
There’s no preamble, no pretense of what’s about to happen and he smirks in appreciation at the unobstructed feeling of skin against skin as he slips his hand under your skirt, not an inch of fabric covering the treasure at the apex of your thighs.
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shurisneakers · 4 years ago
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harmless (ii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, stealing cultural landmarks, frustrated bucky
Word count: 1.6k
A/N: made a header 4 this fic but i couldn’t take it seriously enough <3 
if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! it’s always fun to hear from y’all. 
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Previous Part || Series Masterlist
It’s roughly a week before he sees you next.
Right on time too, according to the briefings he had received. Once a week you’d come up with your next batshit crazy idea and someone would be sent to make sure you didn’t execute it.
It was more of a babysitting gig than anything. Most people would do one, maybe two assignments before asking to not be sent again. 
He was not most people. He volunteers to go again. His afternoon is relatively free and he’s bored. 
Also, and more importantly, he needs to get out of the house before Sam finds out what he did.
“You’ll find her near the Statue of Liberty.”
“How do we know?”
“Oh, she tells us.”
“...she tells us where to find her?”
“Most times, yes. She says it’s time efficient.”
Absurd. He thinks you’re absurd.
Bucky finds you in line to board the ferry. You’re dressed to the nines like an obnoxious tourist, even though you were a local, topped with binoculars and a bucket hat. 
On an unrelated note, he thinks that maybe the mission today is to kill you for daring to wear sandals with socks like a suburban dad. A shudder runs through his body when he sees it.  
He’s wearing all black and a baseball cap. Somehow he’s standing out more than you are.
He boards the ferry behind you, keeping a close eye on all your movements. You take your place near the railing, a seat near the front of the boat. 
His phone rings. He answers it, expecting Sam to screech at him for painting Redwing neon pink again. He should have known it was coming after he shoved Bucky off the quinjet before he had time to strap his parachute on properly. 
“I thought I told you to bring a cape.” 
He quickly looks up at you but you’re not facing him. You have your phone held up to your ear, however.
“How did you get this number?” he asks icily.
“I knew you’d show up again.” Your head tilts to look at the statue in the distance. “Also, thanks for the door money, but I’m not sure I appreciate how you think the least creepy way to give someone money is to drop it off anonymously at their doorstep.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” He swiftly gets up, stalking over to where you’re sitting. He was advised not to do anything aggressive. Advised was a flexible word. 
“Because I wasn’t going to answer it.” You look up at his figure looming over you. “Oh, hey.”
The phone is still pressed to the side of your face even though he’s right beside you. He cuts the call, shoving it back into his pocket.
“Allow me to introduce my pl-”
“What are you doing here?” He cuts to the chase. 
You send him a glare. “I was going to say it before you told me to. And sit down before everyone thinks you’re going to kill me.”
“Why are you going there?” He doesn’t have time for this, he thinks. He has important things to do. Like watching the reruns of Masterchef Junior. 
He sits in the seat beside you.
“Look at us.” You grin at him. “Me with the evilest outfit I could think of, you with your... Addams Family cosplay. We’re like, two peas in a po-”
“Start explaining,” he interjects. 
You roll your eyes. “I’m going to shrink the Statue of Liberty and use it as a keychain.”
“What?” It’s probably the most benign plan he’s ever heard in his life.
“I’m kidding.” Oh, good. “I’m not using it as a keychain, I’m taking it to class.” Nevermind. 
“What?” He finds himself repeating his previous question.
“I’m shrinking all the statues I can find. I want to use it in my classroom to teach the kids.”
“You’re... a teacher?” He blinks.
“You got a problem with that?” You look offended, to say the least. 
“No.” It’s not what he would peg your occupation as. He didn’t think you had one at all. “How are you planning on shrinking it?”
You rummage through the ugliest fanny pack he has ever had the misfortune of seeing. You pull out a small ring box, complete with a bow tied neatly on top. 
“I was saving this for our third anniversary, but-” you offer him a nervous laugh.
His stony expression doesn’t change, not even a blink. 
“Fine, Jesus, you’re no fun,” you huff, dropping the emotional act when he doesn’t look amused. 
You flip open the lid. Inside there are a few small disks. It looks familiar, he realises.
“Your friend Ant-Boy didn’t file a patent, so I just took his whole shtick.” He wants to defend Scott’s honour; it’s Ant-Man not boy. He doesn’t. He’s too transfixed on what you have in your hand.
“Pym particles.”
“The diet version.” You pick up one of them carefully. “A ripoff, but effective. Just gotta attach it to the thing I want to shrink and give it a few minutes.”
“You’re going to steal the Statue of Liberty,” he says, frankly a little taken aback that you were serious.
“Would you relax? I’ll put it back.”
“That’s not the point,” he damn near exclaims. “You can’t take away the Statue of Liberty just because you feel like it.”
“I literally can.” You point to the chips in your hand. “That’s the point of this, keep up.”
He feels exasperated. He didn’t sign up for this when he became an Avenger.
“Give me the box.” He makes a grab for it but you yank it away from his reach.
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
“I don’t have time for this.” His reruns would begin in an hour.
“That’s my problem, because...” you trail off. 
He rolls his eyes, makes a grab at the box again. His tactic is different this time. He stealthily pins one of your arms down so that you’re basically incapacitated.
“Hey! Stop that.” You fumble against his reach, shoving him with your elbow.
“Just give me the thing and we can all go home for the day,” he huffs, unfazed by your squirming.
“No! Over my dead bod-” 
He doesn’t immediately notice what goes wrong in the scuffle. 
Until you look at the ground near your feet. A disk lay there, undisturbed.
“Is that-” All of a sudden, either he’s getting taller or the ceiling of the boat is getting lower.
“Oops,” you say, not remorseful in the slightest. 
“Are we going to-”
“I’d give it five minutes max.” 
Great. He was stuck on a boat that was beginning to shrink. The other passengers were either oblivious or ignorant to seats that were starting to become too small for them, but Bucky’s heightened senses and extreme reflexes made it hard to skip.
He nudges the piece of tech with his foot. Maybe he can kick it off the boat.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you warn solemnly. He wants to disagree but doesn’t know enough about the device to dispute you. 
“Fix this,” he hisses, panic slightly rising. His fingers find their way to his phone to send out an emergency text requesting backup and mass evacuation. 
“I think it’s a rather lovely day for a swim, don’t you?” You stare dreamily at the waves that were inching closer up the boat. 
Or you were inching closer to the water. Technicalities were frivolous. 
“There are other people on this boat.”
“River’s big enough for all of us, I reckon.”
“Fix it.” 
“Or what?” There’s a wicked gleam in your eye. “We both know I have the upper hand here.”
“Or I call the entirety of the Avengers here and haul your ass to prison.”
“Will they bring snacks?”
You’re insufferable. You know it. But you also are the fastest way to get out of this situation and right now, he didn’t want to be responsible for a shipwreck simulation. 
“Fine. Tell me what you want.”
“I like soy chips.”
“Soy chi-” He nearly throws his hands up in frustration. “You know what I’m talking about.” 
“I want one historical artifact so I can impress the kids. They think I’m the cool teacher and I want to keep that reputation alive.”
“What makes you think I can arrange for that?”
“You’ve been alive since goddamn dinosaurs roamed this earth, I’m sure you have some connections.” You pause to assess his face. “You know, you don’t look a day over 29. Dermatologists must hate yo-”
“I’ll get you an artifact, now fix the fuckin’ boat.”
“You promise?” You grin brightly. 
He stares at you. You are unyielding. 
The boat’s uncomfortably small and people are beginning to take notice. Worried murmurs fill the air behind him.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” You shrug simply.
You kneel over, picking up the chip from the ground. You do nothing else for two minutes, instead turning away from him to look at the Statue of Liberty that was coming closer.
It takes him a while to realise that half his body isn’t hanging off his chair anymore. The ceiling is moving further and further away from the top of his head. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He wants to strangle you. 
Why did he listen to you when all of this would have been over the minute he kicked it off the ship. 
“You can drop it off at my lair on Monday and pick it up on Friday.” You gather your belongings, leaving him steaming behind you. “Nice talkin’ to ya, Sergeant.” 
You step over him, flashing him a quick smile before walking off the boat with the rest of the tourists as if nothing had just taken place. When he looks down, the stupid ring box is on his lap.
He sits there, unmoving, eyes fixed on the container.
The ferry conductor asks if he’s going to get off the boat. 
He simply shakes his head.
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seita · 4 years ago
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— don’t ask | hitoshi shinsou (m.)
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pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader
genre: angst, fluff, smut
wordcount: 𝟷𝟹𝟻𝟿𝟶
cw: roommate!au, sugar baby!au
tags: heavy pining, arguments, briefly ft.kaminari, rejection, possessiveness, jealousy, crying, dirty talk, pet names, dom!shinsou, fingering, riding, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise (?), marking, creampie, angst with a happy ending.
note: this is a thank you for 5k followers! i can’t believe i hit such a milestone in only like a month and a half! i appreciate the love and support everyone has given me and i promise to put out more quality content going forwarad!
— you thought it was strange a guy your age made such good money by seemingly doing nothing. whenever you would question him about his income, he’d grow defensive. once a month, a left the house for a few days; leaving to perform a mysterious job he didn’t want you to know about.
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© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.  
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When you saw the flier for someone looking for a new roommate, you honestly thought it was one big scam. You assumed that the second you set up a meeting, you would be kidnapped and never seen again. 
Being a lowly college kid meant you didn’t have your sea legs in the adult world quite yet. Swamped with studies, horrible at managing your time and your stress levels, you were left a constant mess. So, your solution was to stick to studying for the most part and work part-time so the job didn’t take up too much of your time. 
Another genius idea you had was the age-old roommate situation. You started out looking for listings online for preferably Musutafu or Tokyo. Alas, you came up with nothing after a handful of weeks and were intending to give up. 
However, a stop by the grocery store changed everything. It was a flyer for someone looking for a roommate in an area of Tokyo that you knew to be pretty pricey. 
It was close enough to your college campus so you wouldn’t have to worry about a stupid commute. You thought it was too good to be true as you looked at the information stating you wouldn’t even need to pay rent. You’d simply have to split some bills and buy your own groceries. 
The idea of not having to shell out hundreds of dollars a month was appealing on its own; you’d definitely be able to save with a living situation like that. 
The logical side of you was weary, however. The entire thing could be a ploy to trick some unsuspecting victim, like yourself, into who knows what. 
Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to contact the person just in case it wasn’t a trick. No harm in checking, you supposed. 
Tugging the flyer down from where it was pinned up on the bulletin board, you folded it up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your purse to take care of when you got home from classes. 
All of that led you to meeting one Hitoshi Shinsou. He was a tall, tired looking guy around your age. His most prominent feature was the fluffy mess of purple hair that was atop his head. When you first met him, he fixed you with a cold gaze ― his purple irises burning holes into you. And for a second you were sure that you were right on your hunch and you were never going to return home. 
Nothing of consequence happened, naturally, and instead he showed you the bedroom you would be using and handed you a key before sitting down on the couch to watch TV. The whole exchange was unlike anything you expected. When you questioned him he simply told you he’d get everything straight for you and that you could begin to move in whenever. 
So you did.
As expected of such an expensive apartment, the room you were given was great. It was roomy and nothing like you assumed you would wind up with. Most college students wind up with a shitty roommate, a one-bedroom apartment, and instant ramen for dinner every night. 
Instead you got the chillest roommate known to mankind. Shinsou barely even made a peep. Most of the time you found him relaxing in front of the TV watching murder documentaries. You did learn that the poor guy had insomnia and as a result was up almost every night. Sometimes you would catch him snoozing on the couch but that rarely lasted more than 2 or 3 hours before he was up and about once again. 
You did learn that the man was a lousy cook so he mostly lived on instant ramen before you moved in. Luckily for him, you enjoyed cooking and decided to be the one to make meals for the two of you. To say Shinsou was appreciative was an understatement. 
Simply put, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. 
And so bloomed an easy friendship with him. Shinsou made it easy to befriend, although he was a quiet guy he was funny and charismatic; the type of guy who probably had a lot of friends. 
You lived there for about a month when you noticed the first weird disappearance. 
You had been laying in bed, eyes closed as you slowly began to drift off to the white noise of your overhead fan. 
What lulled you from your daze was the beep of the alarm at the front door. Sitting up, you listened carefully only to hear a couple beeps and the click of the door shutting. 
Frowning, you got out of the bed and wrapped your blanket around your shoulders to shield yourself from the chilled apartment air. Your footsteps were silent as you padded your way to the entryway. You immediately noticed that Shinsou’s shoes were gone from where they should have been sitting beside the front door. 
You checked his bedroom to find that he was, indeed, not there. You simply assumed he had gone for a walk or to a convenience store or something since he couldn’t sleep and went back to bed. That was certainly not something uncommon for the insomniac you called a roommate. 
When you got up in the morning, however, you noticed he was still gone. 
You wandered into the kitchen, intending to open the fridge to start something for breakfast only to find a cute cat-themed sticky note plastered to the front of it. Written in your roommates sloppy handwriting was “I won’t be home for a few days.”
Short and to the point but still causing questions to arise in response. 
You had no choice but to carry on. You could text him and question him but you had a feeling you wouldn’t actually get any information. 
Two days was how long he was gone for. He turned on the second night, looking as tired as usual. 
“I’m home,” he called with a heavy sigh, kicking his shoes off before dropping the heavy duffle bag he carried to the floor. 
“Hey,” you greeted over the back of the couch, “I uh...made dinner but I didn’t make any for you. I didn’t know when you’d be home.”
“It’s fine, I already ate anyway,” he hummed, dropping his full weight onto the empty cushion beside you. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 
You eyed him and decided to simply not ask about the hickey on his pale skin. 
The time ticked past midnight and you stood up, yawning as you stretched, “I’m heading to bed.”
“Alright,” he mumbled, finally stealing the remote from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Hey…” you paused at the entrance to the hallway, deciding to chance it, “Where did you go anyway?”
“...To work,” he replied, simply. 
His tone held a sense of finality to it, leaving no room for you to inquire exactly what that meant. So, with a final bid, you went to your bedroom. 
It was almost like deja vu, laying in bed as you fell asleep only to hear the beeping of that alarm. You sat up and climbed out of bed, intending to catch Shinsou before he was gone but as you reached the living room, you heard the front door click shut and he was gone. 
Sighing, you wandered to the kitchen to find another note like you’d seen last time stuck to the fridge. 
As you glanced at the calendar on the wall, you realized it was almost exactly a month since the last time he did this ― you remembered because he left on the 23rd and it was currently the 22nd. You could practically feel the dots forming but you had absolutely no way of connecting them. 
Deciding to retire to bed, you attempted to sleep but found yourself thinking of Shinsou. 
Two months in a row he vanished around the same time, in the middle of the night leaving only a note. Now that you thought about it, he didn’t seem to have a job ― he only said his disappearance was part of his job. But he came back with a hickey. 
Sighing, you rolled over and attempted to fall asleep. 
Two days later, he came home. 
“I’m back,” he grumbled. 
Immediately, you noted the aggravated tone to his voice. Sitting up from where you were sprawled out on the couch, you eyed him. Instead of just dropping his duffle bag like he had last time, he took it straight to the laundry room. 
As he disappeared into the kitchen, you got up and followed him. He was squatting on the floor, rummaging through the bag as he tossed out pieces of clothing. You leaned on the door jam with your arms folded on your chest. Whether or not he knew you were there, you didn’t know. 
“There’s some dinner left for you,” you said softly, watching him pause and look over his shoulder at you.
“I already ate,” he replied, voice cold. 
You frowned, standing up straight, “Alright, well…” you sighed, “I’ll wrap it up and put it in the fridge in case you get hungry tonight.”
He didn’t reply but you kept watching him. He moved to fully sit on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him with a grunt. You noticed that he was separating the clothes into two piles. Closer inspection brought your attention to the price tags attached to the clothes in one pile. 
You found yourself wondering where he got those clothes from but you decided not to ask. He seemed to be in a rather sour mood. 
He left the new clothes on the floor and dumped the others into the washing machine. With quick efficiency, he started the cycle and stuffed the remaining clothes back into his bag. 
You backed up to allow him to leave the laundry room. His shoulders were stiff and his posture was tense. It was a complete 180 from how you usually saw him. 
“You um...you alright?”  you finally asked when he sat down on the couch. 
He barely spared you a glance before propping his feet up on the coffee table, turning the TV on. Realizing you weren’t getting a response, you attempted to brush off the brief anger that flashed through you and instead went to the kitchen to clean everything up. 
You didn’t know why he was being so rude to you ― it’s not like you did anything to him. Deciding to just head to your bedroom to study, you shut off the kitchen light and skirted behind the couch to avoid getting in his way of the TV. 
He didn’t say a word as you disappeared down the hallway. 
As opposed to last time, his ‘work’ seemed to have not gone too well this time around. At least the last time, he was just tired and feeling lazy. 
You could still hear the TV going when you put all your stuff away and crawled into bed. 
The next morning, you awoke with a sigh. Sitting up, you stretched until you felt your joints pop.
As you wandered out of your bedroom, you heard the shower going, indicating Shinsou was still around. Not that you were expecting any different. 
You fixed a quick, simple breakfast for you and Shinsou, hearing the shower turn off as you finished. Wiping your washed hands on your pants, you made your way to the bathroom.
You only got to knock on the door once before it was yanked open. Suddenly, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. 
He stood there, his usual fluffy hair flattened and hanging haphazardly around his face. He wore his usual bored expression despite the fact he was standing there, dripping wet with only a towel around his waist. Immediately, you got a whiff of his body wash and shampoo, making you swallow thickly. 
Fuck, he smelled really good. You always thought so, when he sat on the couch beside you, you could always smell that delicious, musky scent of his body wash mixed with the spice of his cologne. But freshly washed with it, you were nearly salivating at the smell. 
“Um…” you swallowed thickly, tearing your gaze away from the well built muscles under those baggy clothes he always wore, “B-Breakfast is ready…”
“Okay,” he mumbled, moving to skirt around you. 
You sighed, assuming he was still in a shit mood again. Running a hand through your hair, you shook the delectable sight of him fresh out of the shower from your mind. As you went to go back to the kitchen, a large hand grappled around your wrist. 
“Hey,” he mumbled. You looked over your shoulder to see him nervously rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you’d seen numerous times before, “I’m sorry...about yesterday.”
“Huh?” you raised a brow, trying to ignore how big his hand was around your wrist. 
“I was in a shit mood and I took it out on you,” he explained, “So I’m sorry about that.”
“Oh,” you relaxed slightly and smiled, realizing he was actually in a decent mood today, “It’s okay.”
He gave you his own relieved smile, making your heart lurch in your chest at the sight. It was rare to see any other expression beyond that tired, bored look he always wore. Finally releasing his hold on your wrist, he spoke again, “Let me get dressed and I’ll come eat.”
“Alright,” you nodded, biting your lip as he turned his back to you. As he walked you could see the way the muscles flexed under the skin. 
When he finally vanished through his bedroom door, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Shaking your head you moved back to the kitchen intending to stuff your face to forget about how hot Hitoshi Shinsou really was. 
Before, you thought he was good looking. Usually dark circles were unbecoming but they looked almost at home on his face. His skin was nearly flawless and looked soft to the touch ― you’d seen the skincare products housed in his cabinet. It was expensive shit too. Seriously, what was the guy's job?
That thought had your mind wandering back to the monthly disappearances. 
The chair scraped against the floor as he came back ― wearing a baggy t-shirt and black sweats. He immediately dug in and began to eat. 
“So...I have to ask,” he paused, brows coming together in a scowl as you uttered those words.
“Don’t ask,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“I just wanted to ask...if this is a monthly thing. I’ve only been here for 2 so...I just wanted to make sure,” you clarified, watching his shoulder relax. He seemed extremely defensive over any questions related to his ‘job’, you noted. 
“Yeah. Once at the end of the month I leave for two days to work,” he answered simply, obviously avoiding giving any more information that you could feed off of. 
He was smart at least. 
The sun finally dipped below the horizon and the two of you were sitting on the couch watching TV. He had some documentary on but truthfully you weren’t paying a whole lot of attention to it. 
For some reason, your mind kept bringing you back to the sight that morning of Shinsou. As you looked at him sitting beside you, arm tossed casually over the back of the couch as he slouched with his legs spread, you found yourself admiring him. 
He had a sharp jaw and pretty lips. A look lower, your eyes landed on his hands ― long, pretty fingers with prominent veins beneath the pale skin. 
Suddenly, his sharp gaze cut from the TV to you and you found yourself locked in a gaze with him for a split second before you broke away to look at the TV once more. In your peripheral, you swear you saw a smirk crossing his face. 
But he didn’t comment and for that, you were thankful. 
You bid him goodnight and as usual, he stayed up. You began to wonder if the man even tried to sleep anymore. 
You stepped into the bathroom, warning your roommate that you were taking a shower. He shouted back a simple ‘okay’ before you shut the door. 
You stepped under the stream of water after stripping, the steam of the hot water filling the bathroom and relaxing your muscles. You tipped your head back to wet your hair, humming to yourself. 
You eyed Shinsou’s body wash sitting in the purple caddy handing on a hook on the wall. It brought you back to how nice he smelled when he was close to you. When you could feel his body warmth radiating off of him. You would look at him, his shoulders broad and his body warm and inviting. It was nearly impossible to resist the urge to cuddle yourself into his chest. 
You wondered what it would be like to lay against him, his arms wrapped around you as he softly stroked your skin. Maybe he would press a soft kiss to your forehead ― the idea alone made you melt. 
Realizing you had lost yourself in thought, you hurried to finish your shower and get to bed. 
You fell asleep with Shinsou on your mind that night. 
Shinsou’s third monthly work time finally rolled around once again. This time, you stayed up late so Shinsou had no choice but the interact before he left. You were hoping to maybe get more hints about what it is he did. 
He shut his bedroom door, hoisting his duffle bag over his shoulder with a grunt. You were surprised to see him in actual clothes ― rather nice ones as well. 
His jeans fit him perfectly and the button down shirt he wore was tucked in, showing off his lean figure. The belt buckle on his jeans indicated it was name brand and you found yourself wondering how much his job even paid. 
“I’ll be home same as usual,” he mumbled, bending down to slide his shoes on at the door. He looked so good doing just a simple task and you found your heart racing in your chest. His shoulders were accented so well by his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up halfway on his forearms and there was an expensive looking watch on one of his wrists. 
Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he opened the door ― suddenly finding that you didn’t want him to leave. 
“Um…” you called, making him pause in the open door, looking over his shoulder with a brow raised in question, “You...uh…” you struggled to find something to say but he waited patiently for you to form your next words, “Have a nice time...come home soon.”
Your heart thudded painfully as you watched his gaze soften, a smile forming on his lips as he nodded, “I’ll see you later, ______.”
Your ears were ringing as he shut the door, the sound of your name coming from his lips echoing in your head. You sunk down onto the couch, hand on your chest as you came to a startling realization. 
You had a crush on your roommate. 
Living with Shinsou after coming to terms that you had a crush on him was...difficult to say the least. Simple things he did that you used to pay no mind to, you now found yourself getting jittery at the sight. 
Like the way he rubbed his eyes with a fist when he woke up from a nap on the couch, a sound you could only describe as a whine coming from his throat as he sat up. 
The day your kitchen sink stopped working and he had to fix it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. He was leaning beneath the sink, in the cabinet on his back as he fiddled with some tools on the pipes. His white t-shirt became see-through as he sweat from the hard work, his biceps flexing with every movement he made. His shirt rode up a bit over his stomach, exposing his abs that moved and rippled with every movement. His sweats were riding low on his hips, exposing that delicious v-line and happy trail that vanished beneath the band.
The worst part was the way you could see everything in those gray sweatpants he wore. You were pretty sure he wasn’t wearing any underwear. 
You had to leave the room and hide in your bedroom with the window open until he finally finished fixing it. 
You definitely didn’t let your hand slide down your panties to the mental image of him that night. 
Despite living together for nearly four months, you knew close to nothing personal about Shinsou. Putting aside his weird, shady two-day job once a month, you didn’t have anything else to go off of on who he was. 
He was a quiet guy who liked documentaries, video games, and had insomnia. He really loved to eat breakfast foods and cats. Although you hadn’t been in his room even once, only had a couple peeks inside, you knew he owned some cat-themed stationary at the very least. 
Despite his cold appearance, he was actually quite kindhearted and gentle but seemed to have no desire to show it unless necessary. One time, you cut your finger while cooking and you swear you’d never seen him run faster to get a bandaid from the bathroom ― one with a cat on it, no less. 
You still remember the feeling of his hand holding yours and how close his face was as he inspected the cut. You could have leaned in and kissed him so easily then. 
And god was that tempting. 
So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the glass you were holding in your hand slipped free until it shattered in a million pieces across the linoleum floor. You gasped, startled as you looked around for a way to escape but a single step in an area you thought was clear brought a cry from your lips as you stepped on the tiny shards. 
You heard a loud thump from the living room where he had been playing a video game before the thundering footsteps raced into the kitchen. Shinsou’s eyes were wide, like he was terrified of what he would find. 
“Don’t move,” he snapped, noting the way you leaned against the counter to take your injured foot off of the ground. He opened the storage cabinet and pulled out the broom and dust pan. 
It took only a few minutes for him to clean it up enough to get to you safely on his own bare feet. Instead of you limping your way to the living room however, you found yourself swept off your feet. 
Your heart raced so hard, you could hear it pounding in your ears. You were cradled against his chest, so warm and firm with his strong arms beneath your knees and shoulders. His heavenly scent surrounded you ― more intense than you’d even smelt it before. As you finally got a close look, you took notice of how his long lashes framed his pretty eyes. 
All too soon, you were placed on the couch and he was disappearing down the hall with quick efficiency. You were still stunned from being in his arms that you barely noticed he had returned until he was on his knees in front of you. 
Immediately, your cheeks bloomed hot with a blush. The image of him on his knees like that immediately sent your mind to a wicked place. 
Luckily your dirty mind was stopped in its tracks when he began pulling glass from your foot.
You gasped in pain, attempting to pull away on reflex but he held strong, sharp gaze burning holes into you.
“Sit still,” he growled, sending a shiver down your spine. 
His voice was so low, so commanding that you found yourself immediately doing what he said. You always were weak to a dominant man. 
Soon enough, your foot was cleaned and he deemed that the bleeding had stopped.
“It’ll probably hurt like hell for a little while when you walk on it,” he warned, packing the first aid away. 
“Thanks Hitoshi,” you smiled, earning a soft nod of acknowledgement from the man. 
The memory of being in his arms, even for that brief moment, was imprinted in your mind. As you laid in bed, you thought about it. It made your stomach flutter in excitement as you fell asleep. 
The fourth monthly job for Shinsou came and unfortunately, you missed him leaving. You had stayed up studying and as a result fell asleep earlier than usual. When you woke up he was already gone and you were left with a painful throb in your heart. 
You missed him. 
As you lazed on the couch, you found your mind wandering to him again. Like always. It was like your mind was cursed. 
You wondered if he thought about you at all. The idea made you feel giddy and you had to bite back a smile. You felt like a silly schoolgirl with your crush ― the way he made your stomach flutter, your heart race, and your cheeks burn was getting ridiculous. It wasn’t like you could confess, he hadn’t given much of a hint that he even thought of you as a friend. Plus, you weren’t sure if you were willing to give up the killer apartment and perfect roommate gig you currently had with a foolish confession. 
You heaved a sigh, sitting up with a new idea in mind. 
A way that you could learn more about him.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the...most noble means. 
Standing outside his bedroom door, you bit your lip. It felt wrong to go into his room without permission. It wasn’t like he went into your room ― as far as you knew, who knows what he did while you were at school or working. 
The metal doorknob was cold in your palm as you turned it and pushed it open with a soft click.
You’d seen his room in quick glances before when he opened it but you’d never gotten to fully inspect it. He had a large bed that took up the most space in his room. Situated on a dresser at the end of the bed was a TV, a Playstation set up beside it. Against the opposite wall was a desk with a gaming computer setup and a red and black gaming chair pushed in neatly. 
There were a few articles of clothing littering the floor around his laundry basket and his closet was partly open to reveal his primarily monochromatic wardrobe choices. 
Walking into the bedroom, you immediately got a whiff of his cologne, making you smile at the addictive scent. You took a seat on the edge of his bed, the black comforter incredibly soft beneath your hands. 
You leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer, finding nothing too interesting ― a picture of him standing with a smiling boy with crazy green hair, a pink-skinned girl, and a beaming red-haired guy. 
You hadn’t really given it much thought ― that he had friends. He didn’t really talk about anyone, in fact you never heard him mention anyone in his life besides his mom a few times. You did note that he texted on his phone quite a lot and sometimes you could hear him laughing and cursing from his bedroom as he played a video game. You wondered what his friends' names were, what they were like ― what it was like to be friends with Shinsou. 
What you wouldn’t give to be someone...important in his life. 
Sighing, you closed the drawer and moved to his dresser. Your own thoughts caused your heart to ache and you tried to brush it off by looking through the drawers for something interesting. 
Fortunately, you got what you wished for. 
The last drawer to the right contained a little black metal box buried beneath some clothes. You pulled it out and took a seat on the floor, pressing the button to open it. It popped open and you gaped at what you saw. 
It was filled with money. More money than you’d probably ever seen in your whole life. The bills were wrapped together with rubber bands ― there had to be thousands of dollars in even a single stack. As you pulled out the bundles, you found that there were things located beneath them. 
Jewels; all types. Diamond rings, necklaces, bracelets, ruby and emerald gems decorating them. You pulled out a ring and held it up, watching as he gleamed under the light. 
You tucked everything back inside the box and hid it back the way you found it, shutting the drawer before standing up. 
You had no idea what to think as you shut his door once again, moving to your own room. How could he have all that money hidden away like that? It was certainly shady. 
Perhaps it was counterfeit? Or maybe he stole it! 
And what about those jewels? Did he steal those too? Why were they hidden instead of sold off somewhere?
You had so many questions and absolutely no answers. 
Suddenly you were regretting going snooping in his room. 
The fifth month of living with him would have to be where things started to go downhill. 
He came home from his weekend away, tired and grumpy, just wanting a relaxing shower. However, you hadn’t realized he was home so in your tired, sleep-filled daze you stumbled to the bathroom with the urgent need to pee. 
You pushed the bathroom door open and halted in your tracks, heart stopping in your chest at the sight of shirtless Shinsou. 
He had his back to you, displaying the angry red scratch marks that raked down the pale skin of his back, making them stand out even more. He realized you were there and spun around, eyes narrowed in a glare. With his chest in view, you could see all the hickeys and bites that trailed down  his body, disappearing in the hem of his jeans that he had yet to shed.
“Get the hell out,” he snapped, ripping the door from your hand before slamming in shut in your face. 
You stared at the wood for several, long seconds, stunned. You heard the shower start and snapped out of your daze. Forgetting your once desperate need to pee, you trudged back to your  bedroom and quietly shut the door. 
You weren’t a fool ― you knew exactly what those marks meant. You crawled under the covers and found yourself wondering what kind of woman got Hitoshi Shinsou’s attention enough to get him into bed. 
And what did she have that you didn’t?
Truth be told, you couldn’t even imagine him as the type to sleep around. He wasn’t exactly sociable and he rarely seemed to go out of his way to interact even with his friends.
You could hear the shower turn off and you were suddenly reminded of the way he slammed the door in your face ― the ache from realizing he’d been with someone else only exacerbated by the knife of his shouting at you. 
You closed your eyes and attempted to sleep, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. 
The next morning, you found yourself not wanting to get out of bed. You could hear Shinsou shuffling around the house, doing god knows what. You heard him walk down the hallway, heart freezing as he stopped in front of your bedroom door. 
You closed your eyes, willing him to go away. 
Luck was not on your side, however, as he knocked thrice on your door. It was loud enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to feign sleeping through it. 
You sighed and crawled out of bed and trudged over to the door, pulling it open just a bit to get a look at him. 
He had his head down, hand clasped around the nape of his neck with his other hand shoved in his pocket. He looked up when he heard the door open, brows drawn together as he gazed at you partially hiding behind the door. 
“I uh…” he cleared his throat, “I went out and picked us up some breakfast.”
“Oh…” you shifted on your feet awkwardly, nodding your head, “Thanks...I’ll eat later.”
You were about to close the door, desperate to escape the burning in your eyes as you remembered last night. Before it could close, however, he shoved his hand in the crack. You paused, not wanting to crush his hand in the door. You let him push it open to show more of you ― clad in shorts and an oversized t-shirt that you loved to sleep in. Thankfully the shirt was big enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra. 
“I have to apologize,” he grunted, meeting your gaze, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that last night. I was just ticked off…” he trailed off.
You bit your lip, “I uh...I didn’t know you were home...so that’s why I just...walked in…” 
He shook his head, “No I understand, really. Y-You just surprised me and I reacted. I really need to stop taking my shit out on you, I’ll work on that, really. I shouldn’t have slammed the door like that either. It was a shit night but it wasn’t your fault you didn’t know I came home.”
“I-It’s alright, Hitoshi, really,” you smiled, though it faltered a bit at the memory of those scratches and hickeys.
“I...hope you’re not hiding away in here because I upset you,” he muttered, making you frown once more.
“What do you mean?” you questioned.
He bit his lip, looking away awkwardly, “you’re usually up around 10 and it’s...getting close to noon. You don’t do that normally so...I can only think you were trying to avoid me and that’s the last thing I want. This is your home too and I never want you to feel like you can’t be comfortable here.”
You gaped at him, processing what he was telling you. First, he paid close enough attention to you that he knew what time you got up ― that thought made happiness bloom in your chest and second, that was probably the most you’d heard him say in one sitting.
“It’s okay now, Hitoshi,” you smiled, “let me get dressed and I’ll be out to eat, okay?”
He smiled, making your cheeks burn at the sight as he nodded, turning away from you to move back to the living room. You closed your door and sighed. 
It was crazy how just a simple smile from him had your heart fluttering. However, it was quickly halted by the memory that he had someone ― maybe it was a girlfriend. That made your chest ache and you bit your lip to halt those negative feelings as you stripped and changed out of your pajamas. 
You had no idea how you were going to get past the painful clench in your chest every time you looked at him now. 
Month six rolled around and nothing very interesting happened. Shinsou moved his playstation into the living room so the two of you could play some games together. It was a fun bonding experience and you got to watch the way his eyes would light up whenever he beat you. The sound of his laugh still rang in your ears and you couldn’t help but smile every time you thought back to that pretty smile of his. 
It became a weekly thing for the two of you, every Friday night you would sit down on the couch together and play into the early hours of the morning. You got to know more about Shinsou than you had ever before. 
Sometimes he would jerk his body and brush against yours, sending goosebumps across your skin. He was always so warm and inviting ― just having him near you sent your poor heart into palpitations. 
You almost forgot about what happened the previous month when he came back ― those hickeys and scratches on his back finally having been cast out of your mind. 
Your heart did ache when you bid him goodbye the night he left again, wondering if he was going to see her or not. 
The seventh month was when that already precariously balanced life came crumbling down all at once. 
Shinsou was in the shower as you played on his Playstation, sitting in front of the TV with a frown on your face. You could hear the shower running and in the back of your mind you pictured what he might look like ― water running down his flawless skin, his hands caressing. You felt an almost pitiful clench in your core at the mental image. 
Your perversions were cut short by the sharp ring of the doorbell. You paused your game and groaned as you stood up, your knees popping from being sat in the same position for too long. Unlocking the door, you pulled it open and paused. 
A woman stood on the other side of the door, a well-fitting black dress and fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. Her ears, neck, and wrists were adorned with sparkling jewelry and you could see the red bottoms of her expensive heels. She wore vibrant red lipstick across pretty, smiling lips as she acknowledged you. However, you could see the cold gleam in her eyes that made the smile all too fake. 
“Can I help you?” you asked, leaning against the door jam. 
She hummed, tucking some hair behind her ear with perfectly manicured nails, “Is Toshi here?”
“Toshi?” you raised a brow at the nickname, “He’s in the shower. What do you need?”
“Just to talk,” she replied, stepping forward like she wanted to come in. When you didn’t budge she raised a brow, “You don’t mind if I come in, right? I’m sure Toshi would love to see me.”
“Uh…” you didn’t get a chance to reply as she brushed past you, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as she made her way towards the living room, “Sure...come on in…” you whispered sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you shut the door. 
You could hear the shower was turned off, indicating Shinsou would be returning in a minute. You looked at the woman as she glanced around the apartment, feeling a sting of jealousy burning within you. 
Was she the girl he was dating?
“So...how do you know Hitoshi?” you asked, making her smile. 
“I’m his girlfriend, of course!” she beamed, voice far too peppy for your liking.
The words sent an arrow through your heart and you looked away with a hum, ignoring the need to flee to your room and cry into the pillow like a stupid middle schooler. 
As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Shinsou strolled down the hall, towling his hair as he moved. 
Any other time you would have drooled over the sight of a shirtless Shinsou, gym shorts hanging loose on his hips as he walked.
“Uh...Hitoshi…” you mumbled, getting his attention. 
He looked up from beneath his towel, meeting your gaze before his eyes moved to the woman beside you. Immediately his eyes went wide and he stood up straight. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, startling you with how aggressive those words came out. 
The girl didn’t seem too affected, merely pouting as she spoke, “I wanted to talk to you.”
“You have no business being here,” he growled, jerking his head to the door, “Get out.”
“No!” she argued, walking right up to him, “I deserve answers before you throw me away like trash, Hitoshi!”
“I don’t owe you anything,” he replied coldly, breezing past both you and her to go to the kitchen. She followed him but you remained in the kitchen, listening as they argued.
“Why won’t you see me anymore?!” she cried, petulantly stomping her heeled foot. 
“Because you got too damn attached,” he spat, opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water before walking into the living room again. 
“Attached?!” she gasped, grabbing his arm to force him to look at her, “I have given you so much. How can you just break it off without a real reason! Come on, Toshi, just...be with me, you won’t have to work anymore.”
He tensed, glancing over at you at the mention of her job, jaw set, “Just get out, Kana.”
She looked over at you, a sly smile forming on her lips, “She doesn’t know what you do, does she? Is that why you’re avoiding this?”
He didn’t reply, simply glared at her. Kana scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “After all I spent on you, you have no right to just run away. You know I can treat you better than anyone else can, Hitoshi. You’re making a mistake.”
“I have plenty of other clients lined up, Kana,” he shot back, making her frown. He chuckled at the sign of weakness she showed, “What? Did you think you were the only one? No, sweetheart, I have plenty of girls waiting to spend even just one night with me. You’re not special. You’re certainly not the highest paying one either. There’s nothing of importance tying me to you. You have nothing special to offer. You got too attached, starting having feelings for me...you know it would never work with my job. So just leave before you get your feelings hurt.”
Both of you were stunned silent. You because you had never heard him speak so coldly and harshly to someone before ― even when he was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on you. Her because the words he spat out with such venom wrecked her pride and made her burn with anger. 
She clenched her fists and snapped her head towards you, “Best not to get close to this prick,” she warned, her voice watery with unshed tears, “A man who makes money being a sugar baby isn’t one you want to get attached too.”
With those last words, she stormed out. The slam of the door made both you and Shinsou flinch. The silence that followed was even more deafening, however. 
Shinsou cursed under his breath, running a hand through his half-dry hair.
“So...she wasn’t your girlfriend?” you asked, making him look over at you. 
He was quiet for a second before chuckling under his breath, “You learn what my job is and that's the first thing you wonder?”
“Well!” you defended yourself quickly, “She introduced herself as your girlfriend!”
He shook his head, moving around the couch to take a seat, “No, she was just...a client I spent time with for a while. She started catching feelings so I cut it off and referred her to a friend of mine. Apparently...she didn’t like that.”
“How’d she know you lived here?” you asked, sitting beside him.
He shrugged, “She could have looked through my shit at some point, I suppose.”
You hummed, not wanting to push him to reveal more than he wanted to. After all, it wasn’t even his choice to expose his line of work anyway. 
Well, at least you had answers on why he had all those expensive clothes, cash, and jewelry. It was good to know he wasn’t some type of shady thief in the end. 
“It’s...just a really bad idea to get involved with clients,” he explained suddenly, “It’s not a relationship that’s built up on anything real. Having to pay for the company of someone is not a good foundation,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair again before looking at you, “I hope you...don’t think differently of me because of my job.”
You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head, “It’s not really my place to judge you, you know?”
“Thanks,” he smiled, “It’s not really something that’s as bad as people think. It gets a bad rep for having sex for money and shit but...truthfully majority of my job is just...being company to rich women. Sometimes they want to take me around to some fancy parties to show me off or go on dates because they’re lonely. Sex isn’t the majority of what I do. I mean...I will but...it’s not the most common occurrence.”
Once again, the vision of those hickeys and sex-scratches crossed your mind and you found yourself wondering what kind of woman gave him those. At least you could be assured he wasn’t going out to see his girlfriend when he went to work ― they were strictly clients.
Which meant...he was probably single. 
Your heart stuttered in your chest at the hopeful idea. 
“How about I order some take out?” you asked, standing up to retrieve your phone. 
“Get some pizza,” he called as you disappeared down the hall. 
After his occupation was revealed to you, things began to look up. He became more open and carefree around you ― as he no longer had a big secret to hide. He didn’t really talk about his work but he wasn’t hiding it from you either. 
You decided not to ask too many questions, knowing you’d only burn up in jealousy at the idea. You knew you didn’t really have a right to be jealous since you weren’t his girlfriend or anything but you couldn’t help it either. 
The peaceful feeling didn’t last long, however. Once the fire started burning, it had no other choice but to rage. 
“You should really just tell him, _____!” your friend, Uraraka whined, head against the table.
“It’s seriously painful,” Momo agreed, “All this pining is making me sick.”
“Oh real nice,” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. 
It felt nice to hang around with your friends for once ― it wasn’t something you frequently got the opportunity to do. 
Just as Uraraka was about to open her mouth and reply, a looming shadow dropped over the table. You all looked over to find the familiar blonde hair and wide grin.
“Kaminari,” you greeted with a smile.
“Hey _____,” he waved before tucking his hands in his pockets, “Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while but...would you like to go out with me sometime?”
The question left you stunned. 
You weren’t super close to Denki Kaminari, you shared a few general studies classes. He was a goofy, excitable guy who always seemed to know how to light up a room. Everyone around him was always in a good mood, in general he was just a very positive person. 
Not just that but he wasn’t too bad to look at either; with his pretty, wide eyes and sharp jawline. The black lightning bolt streak through his hair just made him look even more charming. 
But you hesitated, your mind drifting to Shinsou. 
Sighing, you bit your lip, “Can I get back to you on that?”
He smiled, nodding his head, obviously relieved you didn’t tell him a flat out no, “No problem. I’ll see you later!”
Once he was gone, a sharp smack landed on your back making you cry out.
“Why didn’t you give him an answer?!” Momo cried.
“Denki’s a great guy, _____! You should do it!” Uraraka added.
You shrugged, “It’s just…”
“If you’re holding out hoping something will miraculously happen with stupid Shinsou, it’s a stupid idea,” Momo said, making you pout that she had read you so easily.
“Just tell him how you feel, _____,” Uraraka sighed, “If he rejects you, you can accept Denki’s date!”
You sighed but didn’t reply. Your two friends shared a look before changing the topic, drawing the attention away from your hopeless crush on your roommate. 
When you got home, you were filled with a sense of urgency. Shinsou wasn’t in the living room so you went to his bedroom, knocking a few times on the door before he opened it. 
“Hey,” he greeted, a tired smile on his face, “Welcome home.”
“Hitoshi,” you swallowed thickly, steeling yourself.
He frowned, “What is it?”
“I need to talk to you,” you breathed.
“Okay,” he stepped aside, waving you into his room.
You hesitated for a second, realizing that there would be no turning back once you walked inside. The door shutting behind you echoed in your head. He moved past you to take a seat on his computer chair. The screen was lit up behind him, indicating he had probably been playing something before you interrupted. 
“I’m all ears,” he said softly, relaxing back in his seat.
“I…” you shifted on your feet, biting your lip, “I got asked out on a date.”
He raised his brow, cocking his head to the side. Part of you had hoped you would see some hint of jealousy from him at your words but his face remained as steely as ever.
“And...you want advice or something?” he chuckled.
You shook your head, “I want to know if…” you took in a deep breath, “If you like me before I accept him.”
He was silent for what felt like an eternity, just staring at you. Shinsou was always the type of man to think before he spoke, running through all possibilities before opening his mouth. His throat moved as he swallowed, a soft sigh coming from his nose.
“You...have a crush on me, or something?” he asked, making you deflate slightly.
“Yes,” you admitted, “And...if you don’t like me back then I’ll accept this boy’s date. There’s no reason for me to wait around and hope you’ll like me back when I could be out meeting someone new.”
He nodded his head, quieting once more. You watched as he stood up, taking a few steps towards you, “_____…” you heart clenched at his tone, knowing what was coming, “My job...it doesn’t leave me room for personal relationships.”
Despite how much you prepared yourself for it, hearing him reject you hurt. You nodded, forcing yourself not to cry as you backed up towards the door.
“Alright then,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile, turning your back to him, “I guess I’ll accept Kaminari’s date then.”
As you walked out his door, you didn’t see the pained look in his eyes. Your name lingered on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t dare speak out. The click of his door was deafening in his ears and when you were gone he sighed, hanging his head as he sat on the edge of his bed, feeling like an idiot. 
The next day, you hunted down Kaminari, telling him you’d love to go out on a date with him. He was thrilled, going off excitedly about how he couldn’t believe you actually accepted him and that he would make it the best date ever. 
And truth be told, the date was a blast. You had told him you’d never been to laser tag before and immediately he said that was exactly what you do then. The sound of Denki’s laughter still echoed in your ears as he lost to you, accusing you of cheating in a lighthearted tone. 
You didn’t see much of Shinsou after you started seeing Kaminari. Although it was casual, you spent a good bit of time hanging out with him ― he began eating with you, Uraraka, and Momo on campus and the two of you texted often. 
It seemed that Shinsou wasn’t making a big effort to hang out with you anyway. As much as that hurt, you knew it was for the best. It spared you a lot of hurt and him of the awkwardness of living with a girl who had a crush on him. 
It was fair enough, you mused. 
But when you laid in bed at night, your phone on silent and the faint sound of Shinsou’s voice floating through the walls as he gamed with his friends, you felt the now familiar tug on your heart. You longed to be with him. 
But you knew it was pointless now. 
You’d been seeing Kaminari for a month when he showed up on your doorstep to pick you up. Usually you would leave and meet him but due to the rain, he opted to pick you up and save you both from the hassle. 
You were in your room, putting the final touches on your makeup when the doorbell rang. Before you could react, you heard Shinsou open the door. 
You quickly grabbed your purse, tossing the strap over your shoulder as you opened your door. You could hear their voices carrying down the hallway.
“Holy shit!” Kaminari laughed, “What a small world ― it’s been a while Hitoshi!”
“Denki,” Shinsou greeted curtly. 
“You ______’s roommate?” Kaminari asked, tucking his hands in his pockets as he waited for you, “She’s talked about you a bit. Didn’t know it was you, though, man!”
“Denki―” Shinsou was about to say something more but was cut off by your entrance.
“Hey there babydoll!” Kaminari greeted with a grin, holding his hand out for you to take, “See you later, Hitoshi!”
Shinsou didn’t respond as he watched the two of you leave, his jaw set tight as he held himself back from calling out. 
-
You felt like you’d never been more angry in your life as you stormed home. Things had been going so well between you and Kaminari, you felt like you could genuinely start to like him. You enjoyed his company and began to think less and less about one purple haired roommate of yours. 
You slammed the front door, startling poor Shinsou on the couch. He turned around, eyes wide at the blazing anger visible on your face.
“What the hell is your problem, Shinsou?!” you cried, kicking your shoes off and tossing your backpack to the floor.
“Huh?” he raised a brow dumbly, only fanning the flames of your rage. 
“You…” you heaved, fists clenched, “Who do you think you are?! Telling Denki to break it off with me?!”
Realization quickly flashed over his face and he groaned, standing up, “I didn’t tell him to break up with you!” he argued. You opened your mouth to retort but he put his hand up to stop you, “I just told him to think it over. Do you know how we know each other, ____?”
“No,” you shook your head, tossing your hands up, “What does it matter? You still have no right to interfere in my relationship!”
“He’s in the same line of work I am!” he snapped, rounding the couch, “He does the same exact thing I do.”
You paused, letting the information sink in, “Why does that matter?”
He shook his head, “Do you really want to be with a guy who spends his nights in bed with women, _____? That’s not exactly the easiest job to trust a man with.”
You didn’t have a retort, “I thought...the majority of the job was just being a companion.”
Shinsou sighed, taking a seat once more, “It really depends on the guy. Denki is pretty popular because he loves to get his dick wet.”
You thought those words would make you feel jealous. The idea of the guy you were seeing fucking other women should make you feel something but instead...you felt almost relieved. Still, it didn’t simmer the anger you felt towards Shinsou at putting his nose in your business.
“You should have come to me and told me your concerns, Shinsou,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, “Instead of going behind my back for me to be dumped.”
“You’re right,” he admitted, biting his lip, “I just...wanted to see if Denki was still the same as he was when I last knew him. It’s just how it happened. I am sorry.”
Sensing his apology was sincere, you relaxed and nodded, “I’ve got to study.”
With that, you hid away in your room. 
You couldn’t deny you still felt a bit ticked off with him but at least you were able to move past it. You realized you weren’t truly attached to Kaminari, you were just using him to shove your feelings for Shinsou away ― a pretty dick move on your part. So you were relieved to be out of the relationship.
Unfortunately, this left you with Shinsou once more. Where he once was pushed from your mind for the most part, he now resumed plaguing your thoughts. 
You couldn’t deny how tired you were. 
It was emotionally exhausting feeling your heart race at the mere sight of him only for it to ache when you remembered there was no chance in hell he’d even give you the time of day. 
Things reached a head when he returned from work. Eleven months in and all the negative feelings and tension finally culminated. 
“Hey Shinsou,” you called, finding him leaning against the kitchen island with a cereal bar in his hands. 
He looked over his shoulder, an unusually cold look in his eyes as he regarded you, “What?”
You tried not to flinch at the tone, frowning, “Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” he snapped and you sighed, realizing he was in one of his moods, “What do you want?”
“I...nevermind,” you shrugged, “We’ll talk when you’re in a better mood.”
You hadn’t meant for it to be something to piss him off further. You truly meant that you would wait until he felt better to talk. For some reason, however, he took it wrong.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled, pushing himself off of the counter to storm up to you.
“Nothing!” you defended, “I don’t want to get into anything with you, okay?”
“If you have something to say then just say it!” he snapped, making you shake your head.
“No!” you argued, turning on your heel to storm into your bedroom. 
Before you could get very far, however, a tight hand was wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back.
“Don’t fucking run from me!” his tone sent shivers down your spine, the angry fire burning in his eyes finally snapping something inside you.
“I am so fucking tired of this!” you tore your arm from his grip, not missing the frustrated grunt he gave in response, “This shit isn’t working anymore, Shinsou! You clearly don’t know what the hell to do with yourself; you come home from working and you’re in a shit mood and you take it out on me. Then you act like everything is perfectly fine. You know how I feel about you, so you can’t even pretend that doesn’t have anything to do with your behavior. In fact, I know it affects you because why else would you have convinced the only guy I’ve seen in the past like two years to dump me like trash! All over this stupid fucking job of yours. I don’t want to deal with the shitty way you make me feel, Shinsou!”
“So?” he snapped, teeth bared.
“So I’m gonna fucking move out!” you threatened, standing nose to nose with him.
His eyes narrowed and he let out a humourless laugh, “Fine! The sooner the better!”
With those last words he stormed past you, slamming his bedroom door with deafening finality. 
You were left alone in the living room, fists clenched as tears you’d held back so long finally broke free. 
A stupid purple haired idiot was not worth being hurt so much over. That you were sure of. 
It’s not like he even cared, apparently. 
With that thought finally pushing you into action, you returned to your own room to begin looking for new housing. 
In all your time living with him, the longest you went without seeing him was two days. Once a month when he went to work ― that was the only length of time you didn’t see him every day. 
Now, however, the two of you were avoiding each other like the plague. You had been busting your ass finding a new apartment, going to school, and working as usual. Shinsou had been hiding in his room the majority of the time. 
You even stopped cooking. 
Part of you wondered if he even noticed. Deep down, however, you knew he probably didn’t care. 
He would just get a new roommate and go on like usual. Like you had never existed. 
At least you’d be able to get over him then. 
It took a month before you found a decent place. It was nowhere near as nice as your current one but there was nothing you could do about that. Your situation with Shinsou was unique and you knew you were never gonna have an opportunity like this again. 
You came to terms with that. 
Wandering out of your room, you were surprised to find him sitting on the couch. His nose was buried in his phone but the TV played his usual shows. 
“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your voice even. He grunted in response, not looking up, “I found a place. I’ll be out by the end of the week.”
He didn’t say anything and you sighed, feeling your eyes burn. 
How you wished he would say something to stop you ― to show you that the past year wasn’t a huge waste of time and that you really meant nothing to him. You felt you could have at least called yourselves friends but...apparently that was one sided. 
The thought hurt so you escaped to your room once again to hide. 
The night before your move, you were laying in bed playing a game on your phone. Laying on your back, you held the screen up and tapped your thumbs aggressive against the screen. Your momentum was lost by three sharp knocks on your door. You cried out as your phone fell from your hand and dropped on your face. 
“Shit,” you groaned, tossing it away and getting up from bed. 
Opening the door, your words caught in your throat at the sight of Hitoshi Shinsou’s sleepy gaze fixated on you. His hand was clasped around the nape of his neck and he was looking away nervously. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” his head snapped towards you, eyes wide before you realized how that sounded, “I-I mean I thought you were supposed to be gone! You know...to work.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly and he shrugged, “I cancelled. I...wanted...no, I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”
You stood there for a few seconds, thinking it over before stepping aside to let him in. He gave you a tight lipped smile before you shut the door behind him. Turning to face him, you took note of the way his free hand was shoved into his sweats pocket. The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. 
“What...what did you need?” you asked, sitting on the edge of your bed. 
He remained standing, obviously thinking over his words carefully. His back was to you, his figure hunched slightly in his usual posture. But you couldn’t miss the tension his form held. 
“I never intended this to become a long-term thing,” for a moment you thought he was talking about your living arrangement but before you could refute, he was turning to you, “This sugar baby thing, that is. I had a friend who did it and made some good money from it and eventually I got into the scene and realized just how good it could pay. It’s been like 2 or 3 years now since I’ve been at it.”
He dropped his hand from around his neck, beginning to pace around your room to gaze at your various knick-knacks. He paused at the few boxes you had packed up already, a frown marring his face.
“I make even more money by selling the presents I get. Sometimes the clients will give me jewelry or clothes, I always sell them,” he sighed, picking up a snow globe that sat atop your dresser, shaking it mindlessly to watch the fake snow float around the glass. 
“Why are you telling me this?” you asked softly.
“The truth is, I hate the majority of my job,” he confessed, ignoring your question, “Most of the people are pretentious assholes who think they’re better than me because they pay me. I don’t mind being arm candy, it doesn’t really bother me. And not gonna lie sometimes the sex is bomb,” he chuckled almost lifelessly and you ignored the pang in your chest at his words, “But the position I’m in forces me to basically do whatever they want me to. Naturally, I have limits and shit but if they want to dominate me I let them and that sucks.”
“Hitoshi,” you grumbled, making him look at you, “Why are you telling me about your sexual preferences?”
“Oh right…” he shook his head, “I hate doing it because I don’t have much control in my life because of it,” he looked at you with fierce eyes, “That’s why...I want to say fuck it.”
Before you could respond, he was walking up to you, cupping your cheek in a warm hand. Your eyes were wide, staring up at him as he moved close to you, his lips brushing yours. 
“It’s been so fucking painful letting you go,” he whispered, “Having to reject you and let you go out with fucking Denki nearly broke me down, not gonna lie. I didn’t want him to hurt you, that’s why I interfered...but I also...didn’t want to let him have you when I wanted you so damn bad myself.”
Your heartbeat stuttered as you stared up at him, wide eyed, “D-Does that mean you…”
He nodded, “Shit, I’ve liked you for so long, _____. It’s been so hard not telling you how I feel every single day.”
“Hitoshi,” you likced your lips, reaching up to fist the front of his shirt. He hummed before you spoke again, “Please kiss me.”
There was a quick flash of his smile before his lips met yours ― every bit as soft as you expected them to be. You could faintly taste toothpaste on his lips but you didn’t mind one bit, he probably tasted the same from you. 
His hand moved from your cheek to your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own hands moved around his shoulders, pulling him closer. 
You quickly found yourself on your back, his hand wandering up the hem of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach. You whimpered, fisting his hair as you kept him locked in a kiss. He didn’t seem to mind, simply sighing against your lips. 
You still had questions but you couldn’t bear the thought of stopping this so you tucked them into the back of your mind, devoting yourself to what was right in front of you. 
Shinsou sat up just slightly, breaking the kiss. You almost whined but the feeling of his hand creeping upwards towards your bare breast stopped you.
“Is this okay?” he asked for your consent, pausing before he actually touched you.
“Very,” you breathed, tugging him back down for another kiss. 
Immediately, he cupped your breast, thumbing your already erected nipple. You gasped into his mouth, earning an amused chuckle from him.
“Sensitive?” he asked, pecking your lips before suddenly sitting back. 
This time you did whine at the loss. He flashed you a fond smile before pushing the hem of your shirt up to your neck, revealing your chest to his greedy eyes. 
“D-Don’t just stare,” you complained, feeling your cheeks burn as he admired your body. 
“Sorry,” he replied insincerely, cupping your breast once more, “You have such pretty tits, you know? I couldn’t help it.”
You scoffed but it turned into a choked gasp as he enveloped your pert bud in his hot mouth, wet tongue lashing against it before he pulled away with a firm suck. You wrapped your hands in those soft, purple tresses and whined. His other hand came up to pinch your other nipple, making sure to give it just as much attention. 
“Toshi…” you whined, tugging his hair until he pulled away, his lips swollen. 
“What is it, baby?” he hummed, nosing at your neck to press soft kisses there.
“T-Take your shirt off,” you breathed, tugging at the hem until you were able to pull it over his head with a bit of assistance. 
Once he was as shirtless as you, your hands began to wander to touch every bit of skin you had long to for so long. He let you explore, letting out a soft sigh when you brushed over one of his hardened nipples. You didn’t linger in one place for long, quickly growing too curious at the sight of his member straining against those damn sweatpants he always wore. 
His head tipped back as you palmed him through the fabric, quickly noticing that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Eagerly, you dipped your fingers beneath the hem and pulled his cock free, your fingers not even able to touch once wrapped around. 
He was thick, a curve to his length that you just knew would hit a certain spot inside of you that would make you lose your mind. The head was a flushed red color, leaking precum that you used to give him a couple easy strokes. 
He reached down, grabbing your wrist to stop you before slipping his own hand down the hem of your shorts and panties. 
Your hips bucked the second his fingers made contact with your folds ― already dripping wet and coating his digits generously. He gave a few soft circles to your clit, testing your sensitivity before finding the pressure that had you cunt clenching around nothing. 
You whined, grinding your hips against his touch in hopes he’d slip at least one of those long fingers into you. Thankfully, you were granted your wish and more as he easily slid his middle and ring fingers in. 
He groaned as you walls tightly clenched around him, trying to desperately pull him back in whenever he pulled them out slightly. 
“Feel good?” he breathed, already knowing the answer but craving your praise.
“So good,” you whimpered, biting your lip. He curled his fingers suddenly, nailing that sweet, spongy spot on your upper wall, “Right there!” you gasped. 
He grinned, massaging that one pleasure-point with vigor, “Yeah? Right there, kitten?”
You keened at the name, walls clenching. He groaned at the feeling, suddenly pulling his hand free from your shorts. You didn’t have time to complain before he was tugging the remaining articles down your legs to toss away. 
He moved with practice expertise, grabbing you beneath the thighs to pin them open. Your wet cunt was exposed to his all too greedy eyes. He licked his lips at the sight, making your cheeks burn. 
Before you knew it, he was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, tugging you down just a bit so your ass was almost hanging off the edge. The position left you completely at his mercy. He knew it too. 
You watched with bated breath as he spread your folds open ― revealing the shiny, pink hole that continuously dripped your arousal. It clenched beneath his leering gaze and he groaned. 
“Fuck!” you squealed when he dove forward to wrap his lips around your hardened clit. 
He hummed at your taste, sending vibrations through the little bud. He quickly abandoned that in favor of getting a full taste of your juices. Tonguing your entrance, he reveled in how tight you were around his tongue. 
You reached down, tanging your fingers in his hair as he ate you with all he had. His tongue worked expertly to circle your clit before dipping back down to your hole once again. 
“Please, put your fingers in,” you begged, desperate to be filled. 
He quickly obliged, slipping two long digits into your clenched pussy before mouthing over your clit eagerly. He could already feel you clenching sporadically around him and he couldn’t resist setting a quick pace, hammering against your sweet spot with every movement. 
Your muscles were taught as you felt that glorious high building up. Soft pleas left your lips as your back arched. 
“Gonna cum, kitten?” he tasted, flicking his tongue against your clit.
“Y-Yeah!” you sobbed, abandoning your hold on his hair to tear at your blankets ― not wanting to hurt him in your throes of pleasure. 
“Cum then,” the casual way he said those words flicked a switch and you were cumming. 
He groaned through your high, feeling your cunt spasm around him. He felt your cum gush from around his digits, soaking them as you clit throbbed beneath the pad of his tongue. Once your body began to relax, he pulled away. 
Your thighs slammed shut once he was out of the way, your muscles trembling through the intense aftershocks. While you were coming down, he stripped himself of his sweats, popping his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth with a groan as he fisted his cock to the sight of you trembling. 
The fact he made you cum so hard was a boost to his ego and he didn’t bother fighting the prideful grin on his face. Sweat coated your skin and made your hair stick to your neck. 
After several seconds, he climbed onto the bed and maneuvered you so your head was in the pillows. You bit your lip and grinned slyly at him as he climbed onto the bed. 
“Shit uh…” he looked around your room quickly, a frown on his lips. You looked up at him curiously before he explained, “Condom?”
You bit your lip and shook your head, “D-Don’t worry about it.”
“Huh?” he gaped down at you.
You shrugged, “I’m on the pill and well...I’m sure you use condoms with you...job, right?”
“Always,” he blinked.
“Then…” you wiggled your hips at him with a cheeky grin. 
He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Reaching between the two of you, he gripped his cock and tapped the head of it against your folds. Your thighs jumped as he slapped lightly against your sensitive clit. 
Finally, he began to press into you and your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch his cock gave you. He clenched his teeth, letting you soft groans as he sunk more of his length into you. Your walls gripped him so tightly, spasming and clenching as he was fully seated within you. 
The two of you had to pause before continuing, the feeling of him filling you up too much. His cock was thick, making you feel like he was stuffing you full. 
“Please,” you begged, fisting the pillows on either side of your head as he sat back on his heels. 
Gazing between your thighs, he nearly lost it at the sight of your cunt stretched tight to accommodate him. He thumbed over your clit, receiving a sharp cry from your lips. 
“Fuck...you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, circling his hips against yours with a groan, “I can feel you clenching so tight around me. Bet you wanna cum again, huh?”
“Yes!” you cried quickly, mouth agape as he gave a sudden thrust, “Please make me cum!”
He shushed you, rubbing his thumbs over your hips, “Don’t worry, kitten, I got you...I’ll get you there.”
Before you could respond, he was setting an almost brutal pace. You always imagined what Shinsou would be like in bed ― you pictured it too many times at night. Sometimes you imagined he would take it slow with deep, intense thrusts. Other times you’d picture exactly this; rough, harsh thrusts that you were sure were going to leave you sore when the morning came. 
You had no complaints though. 
Hitoshi gripped you beneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest as he fucked you. Your cunt gushed around him, making lewd, wet noises reverberate around the room and mingle with your mixed moans. He let out groans of pleasure, strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead. 
You couldn’t help but admire the sight of him ― muscles rippling and moving with the force of his thrusts. Reaching up, you pulled him closer against you, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades. 
He winced but you felt his cock twitch at the pinch of pain inflicted as a result. You thought back to what you saw that one night ― the marks some random woman left on his body. Suddenly, you were overcome with the need to mark him as yours. 
Catching him by surprise, you managed to flip him over, straddling his waist, using his strong chest as leverage to fuck yourself on his thick cock. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, almost hitting your cervix every time you sunk down on him. He gripped your hips, assisting your movements as he tossed his head back into the pillows. 
“Shit, that’s it, kitten,” he praised, reaching up to pinch one of your nipples.
You keened at the praise, leaning down to deliver a sharp bite against his shoulder, sucking at the skin until a bright red mark bloomed. You eyed it proudly, biting your lip as you ground against his cock, making sure your clit got the attention it needed. 
Shinsou bucked into you, making you whine as he started a steady pace of bouncing. Your thighs burned but it was worth the sight of having him beneath you. The way he stared up at you, as if you were a goddess made your heart race. 
“Toshi…” you whined, leaning back to steady yourself on his thighs as he started to thrust up into you. 
“What is it, babygirl?” he grunted, gripping your hips tightly as he fucked his thick cock into your gushing cunt. 
“Make me cum, please!” you begged, biting your lip. 
He grinned, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick the pad of it, “I got you, baby.”
Before you could think of a response, he was circling his thumb around your clit, the bud desperate for attention. Your body tensed with just a few quick circles of his thumb, his cock angled against your g-spot so perfectly that you immediately reached your high. 
Through your own cries of pleasure, you heard him moaning alongside you before he froze, his cock buried deep inside you as he came. His cock throbbed and pulsed with every jet of hot cum he released into your clenching walls. 
All at once, things stilled. You both relaxed against each other. His cock was still stuffed inside you, softening as his cum leaked out around him to make a mess between the two of you. You laid your head against his chest, his large hand cupping the back of it, pressing soft kisses against your forehead until your heartbeats finally slowed to a reasonable pace. 
“Let’s take a bath, baby,” he groaned as he sat up, keeping you secure in his lap.
You were surprised he could carry you so easily after he nearly fucked the very life out of you. 
Soon enough, you found yourself surrounded by sweet-smelling water with a fucked-out Shinsou cuddling against your back.
“Not to...ruin this afterglow bliss,” you hummed, leaning back against him as the warm water ripped around you, “But what brought this confession on suddenly? I thought you said your job doesn’t allow room for relationships.”
He was quiet for several, long seconds before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, “I didn’t think it was fair to let myself be with you when I was going out once a month to hang around with a bunch of women. It isn’t something I want to put you through.”
“So you’re going to quit?” you asked. 
He nodded, “I probably won’t be able to make enough money to keep this place but...if it means I can have you without feeling like shit about hurting you, then yeah. It’ll be worth it, I’m sure.”
“Why don’t you just…” you bit your lip, pausing.
“What?” you questioned, gripping your chin to make you look at him, “Talk to me.”
You hummed, “Just stop with the sex and kissing stuff...just be arm candy, like you said. Hang out with them. They’ll still pay for that, right?”
He raised a brow, shifting so he could look better at your face, “You’d be okay with me going to hang out with a bunch of women who want nothing more than to sit on my dick?”
“Well…” you cleared your throat, your cheeks burning, “As long as only I get to sit on your dick then it’ll be fine. I trust you, Hitoshi.”
He was quiet once again before a smile fell across his lips, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips, “We’ll talk more about it later. Let’s just relax.”
He tucked you against his chest, leaning back against the porcelain of the tub. With his fingers caressing across your skin, you allowed yourself to drift off ― finally wrapped up in those damn arms you dreamed of.
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lokislastlove · 3 years ago
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Come One, Come All! (Dark!Loki x reader) p.2
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Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.
Warnings: Noncon/Rape, Knife play, Oral (m&f), Smut, Bondage, Kidnapping
This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!
Authors Note: Here is part 2, for those who have taken a chance on my trash, thank you so much!! I hope I don’t disappoint. ❤️
Chapter 2:
You feel your chest seize and you start to shake as your heart rate skyrockets, your body and mind dissolving into a full blown panic attack as you feel around the black box imprisoning you. You are only locked in for a minute before you hear rustling outside and you are thrown into the wall as the whole box shifts and turns.
“What the fuck. Oh my god, someone help! Please let me out!” Your voice cracks as your pleading grows more desperate with each passing minute.
You try to hold out hope that it’s a prank or part of the experience but after what you were sure had to be at least ten minutes of begging to possibly no one, you sag in defeat. Your eyes burn with hot tears, the temperature inside the box rising the longer you sit there. Stewing in silence and sweat, you listen to anything that might tell you where you have been moved to but the joyful bustle of the carnival fades early on.
You fall asleep hunched at the bottom of the box, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. You don’t know for how long but you are awoken roughly as the box tips over sending you face first into the solid surface. You grunt and stretch out, turning to lay on your back.
“Open it” you hear faintly.
The wall above you is ripped off instantly by a singular muscular arm. Startled, you gasp but manage to hold in the pathetic squeak when you look up into piercing blue eyes shrouded in unruly golden hair. Your own eyes widening as you take in the sheer mass of this man.
The muscles under his sun-kissed skin ripple as he huffs and stands straight. He scratches his bearded jaw, looking over to the darker figure you could barely see standing across from him.
“Yes I can see why you liked this one. Inquisitive eyes. A bit of fire in there, yes?” The hulking blond man raises a brow and smirks at you.
Had you not been in your current situation he would have been the type of man you could drool over for days. But considering the fact that you appear to be kidnapped, his physique only enhances your trepidation.
“Where the fuck am I?” You demand, fighting your soft-spoken nature.
“Yeah, there’s that fire” the large man chuckles deeply. “Want me to put her on the wall?” He asks looking back to his silent counterpart.
“The wall?” You mutter, panic rising again at the prospect of being ‘put’ anywhere.
“Yes, then you may go. Thank you , Thor” The darker mans voice drones, sounding bored.
The larger man, Thor, leans down and goes to grab you, making you scream and try to slap away his arms which is clearly ineffective, considering his bicep is the size of your head. He grabs your wrists easily and pulls you to your feet, you try going limp but he hardly seems to notice as he drags you out of the box. You start kicking and flailing wildly as he tosses you against a hard flat wooden surface attached to the wall. You sob as he takes one of your arms and stretches it straight out and snaps a mounted metal cuff around your wrist. You reach over with your free hand and try to unclasp the lock but he catches you and stretches the other arm out to the other side, rendering you completely helpless.
Arms spread wide, you feel exposed and vulnerable, especially when he traces his hand over your breasts before stepping away. That’s when you finally look at the thing you are mounted to. A circular wooden board painted red and white like a giant target, with you at the center.
“What the hell is this?” You tremble.
“Ankles too, for now” the dark suited man directs from across the room.
“Oh, well aren’t you a lucky girl” Thor chuckles under his breath before kneeling down and spreading your legs, attaching each to a similar iron restraint.
“Please. Please let me go” you plead softly to the bulky blond as he stands straight and smiles at you.
Thor brushes his thumb under your eye, catching a stray tear before sucking it into his mouth and humming.
“So sweet.” He praises before winking at you and leaving the room.
Your eyes settle on the lithe figure facing away from you. He’s tall and although he’s not as thick as Thor, you can tell he doesn’t lack strength either. He sheds his jacket and lays it neatly across the desk in front of him.
“If this is s-some sort of joke, it’s not funny” you stutter.
You watch in horror as he slowly turns to look at you, leaning back on his desk and crossing his ankles.
“You’re a clever girl, does this feel like a prank to you, darling?” His voice is as smooth as silk.
“Why are you doing this? Where are my friends?” You question, dreading the answer.
“Oh they will make fine prizes for the highest bidder. But you, darling… you caught my attention.” He explains blithely, slowly unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.
“Lucky me” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him as a wave of anger washes over you at the mention of your friends.
“Indeed.” He smiles cruelly.
“I swear to god if you hurt my friends –“ you fume before getting cut off suddenly.
You barely see the silver glint as something small whizzes through the air toward your head. A sharp silver blade sinks into the board next to your head, the shock causing you to choke on a gasp. It was mere inches away from your eye.
“Care to threaten me again?” He smirks, holding another knife in his right hand, the sharp point of it delicately pressing into the middle finger of his left hand.
You gulp as your body shakes uncontrollably, your life seemed to flash before your eyes in that moment. How did he throw that so fast, you say to yourself, the target behind you making more sense now. You shake your head in response to his question, voice lost amongst the adrenaline coursing through you.
“Very well” he nods once, with a small smile.
Your eyes are glued to the dagger in his hand, as he flourishes it about casually. Your muscles tense every time he tosses it gently in the air before catching it.
“Now, I want to know how you solved those riddles so quickly today” he asks lightly before throwing another dagger, this one splintering the wood inches away on the other side of your head. “And no lies.”
You squeak and close your eyes, body trembling so badly you aren’t sure how to form words anymore.
“I – I don’t know. I just did.” You manage to stammer out. “Please stop.”
Another dagger flies through the air, landing with a thud between your thighs.
“Oh my god, please! Please” you cry.
“You know some people could figure out one, maybe two, within the time limit. Most just get the answers from those who went before them. Others just come back repeatedly, mindlessly searching for the keys. But you… such a clever girl” he purred, pushing himself away from the desk still clutching another knife.
“You can hardly blame me for being curious” he continues, taking slow steps toward you.
He stops before you, admiring your terrified expression before dropping his eyes down your body. You pull on the restraints and shift in discomfort at his close proximity. He smiles as his eyes connect once more with your own, his pupils blown wide.
“I’m sorry, okay. I wasn’t trying to – I won’t ever do it again. Just please let me and my friends go,” you beg.
You watch him smirk and sniff at your pathetic pleas, both fully aware you have nothing to offer. He turns and calmly walks back to his desk.
“Ugh let me go you fucking creep! What do you want from me?” Anger and panic causing you to lash out desperately.
He turns and flings another dagger at you, but this time you feel a sharp pain under your arm. You look over to see the dagger pinning your shirt to the board, slowly staining with blood.
“Oh my god!” You scream shifting your arm away from the dagger. “You cut me!”
“Barely more than a scratch. You’ll survive.” He assured you coolly with a roll of his eyes.
You feel the slow flow of warmth trickle down the underside of your arm and you whimper as you watch him near you again. He stops in front of you and pulls the dagger from the board, releasing your shirt. He admires the blade for a moment and then reaches out to you, making you flinch away. His eyes flare at your reaction and he tuts disapprovingly.
“This shirt, however…” he mocks, sliding the sharp end of the blade under the hem of the fabric along your stomach, “I’m afraid it will not.”
You gasp as he brings the knife up cutting through the flimsy material with barely any resistance. You cry as the cool air breezes over your exposed stomach. The useless cloth hanging loosely off your arms.
“Better” he coos his appraisal, as he glides the tip of the knife from your neck to your navel.
Your chest heaves as the reality set in like a boulder dropping in your stomach. You can’t believe this is how your ‘fun night out’ is going. Cursing your luck as you wonder why the hell your intelligence only seemed to lead you to trouble and scummy men.
“All of this because I solved your stupid riddles” you gripe, shaking your head in bitter disbelief.
“Stupid?” He repeats, his face twisting in disgust at the insult.
“Yeah, what is it? You have a problem with women smarter than you? No, that can’t be it, you’d have to be used to that by now.” You sneer.
You don’t know where this boldness is coming from, but something about this man makes you angry, and you figure, what do I have to lose?
His face twists in anger and he slams the dagger into the wall above your head. Your head is now caged in by three sharp knives and yet you suppress a flinch.
“That, wasn’t so smart, darling.” His lip curls in amusement as he backs off slightly and grips the rounded edge of the board spinning it until you are hanging upside down.
Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen
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snaktooth-journalist · 4 years ago
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Bugsnax Fanfic: Snaktooth’s Last Secret
Well here’s a Filbo/Journalist fanfic I’ve been working on off and on as a way to explain another Bugsnax theory. I have a few chapters done, but not in order. Here’s the first one in any case. Writing is not the best, but alas. As always, @snorpington-fizzlebean has been helping me with brainstorming, data gathering, and editing. This man... Is my Angle... Beware of spoilers
“There’s something that’s been bothering me…” 
Filbo looked up from the pile of paper at his paws. He had a small, focused frown from being shaken from his thoughts, but it curved into a friendly grin as your words registered. Filbo always smiled when you spoke to him. “What’s that, Buddy?”
You couldn’t help the small, reflexive smile that pushed your own mouth up. It was easy to rub away with your paw, especially as you focused back on what was bugging you. Your eyes grew serious beneath the brim of your hat. 
“Lizbert’s ship.”
Filbo’s smile was now a neutral line. You tapped the map in front of you. 
“The night I arrived at Snaktooth island, I saw the wreckage briefly. That ship had been smashed to bits, and at Flavor Falls no less.”
You looked up right as Filbo looked down. He shuffled the papers in front of him nervously, and the obvious change in demeanor grabbed your attention. You stared at him with a laser focus as you went on.
“The ship had allegedly been docked at the Boiling Bay, but somehow, it was moved and dashed against the cliffside sometime between Lizbert’s arrival and when Cromdo went looking for it after the big fight. In fact, Cromdo was the only one to even mention the ship to begin with.” 
Filbo was scratching his cheek nervously. 
“If it was a giant bugsnax that destroyed the ship,” you continued, “Cromdo and the rest of the settlement would have known about it. What’s more, if it had been a bugsnax, then it would make no sense that the ship itself had been moved.” No, the wreckage seemed much more deliberate to you. You had only caught a glimpse, but the ship had been utterly shattered at the bottom of the cliffside, like someone had deliberately steered it against that jagged stone facade. The location of the crash meant that almost nothing could have been recovered from the wreck. It was like it had been on purpose-
“Um. Buddy…?” Filbo glanced up at you with all the tentative shame of a puppy dog. “Yeah, that... That was me.”
You blinked at him, surprise wiping your mind like a dry erase board. Filbo laughed sheepishly, but it was a nervous sound, not a happy one. His eyes flicked between yours and the papers in front of him. “I… It was an accident!”
“Lizbert let me take it. I was trying to move it so it would be closer to the settlement, and I guess, the wind it just, caught the sail weird…” He sighed. He was small in his seat, shoulders hunched in embarrassment. You wanted to put a paw on them to get him to uncurl.
“Liz covered for me… She kept it a secret. That’s why no one knew about the ship…”
You nodded a bit, processing. “…Hey, wait,” You squinted, and Filbo’s head snapped up, looking at you with wide eyes.
“Didn’t you ask to sail my ship within the first few hours of knowing me??��� You grinned, crossing your arms. You were laughing, and though it took a second for Filbo to laugh with you, he sounded genuinely relieved.
“Well, if at first you don’t succeed…!”
“Then borrow someone else’s equipment the next go around.” You finished, laughing. His shoulders had relaxed again, and he was smiling. It made your own grin grow.
“Give me some credit here! I piloted us out of there, didn’t I?” He teased, starting to stand.
You began gathering up your own papers. “You did, I’ll give you that one.” Your paws slowed as you looked down at your journal, your grin falling slightly. You rubbed at your mouth again as Filbo looked between you and your work.
“What’s the matter?” He asked softly.
You hummed quietly. It was nice having someone to talk to when you hit a rut like this. “Nothing… Just a feeling I have. Like I’m missing something.” You put your paw on your journal, as if the information you wanted would be released with the gentle ‘plap’ sound it made when your paw connected to the surface.
“Call it a journalistic instinct. I just feel like I haven’t figured something out yet. Like there’s an answer I need, but I don’t know what questions I have to ask to get at it.” You shook your head. The island had poured out all it’s pertinent secrets. You knew what happened to Lizbert. But you still felt like someone was hiding something. Something big. You were perplexed but you couldn’t pin down why.
It surprised you when you felt Filbo’s paw on your shoulder, and you looked up at him thoughtfully. The smile he gave you was a surprisingly soft one. Your own smile shone through your eyes as much as it did your mouth. “…I guess it’s pretty late.” You admitted. Normally that wouldn’t have stopped you.
“Definitely. Let’s get some rest, okay? I think we’re almost done.” Filbo gave you a tired smile. You didn’t feel like you were close to done yet, but you only nodded.
“Need anything?” He hadn’t for the past three nights, but you asked anyways. It was weird actually having a guest in the guest room.
“No, just a good night’s rest, heh!” Filbo stretched, heading towards his room. He paused at the door and looked back at you with an easy smile. “Night, buddy.”
“Goodnight Filbo.”
You laid in bed that night staring at the ceiling, the undiscovered mystery hunting you inside your own head. Something was missing. Something was wrong. Eventually a light, uneasy sleep overtook you, and restless dreams of darkness and hidden eyes flitted through your mind until morning. 
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morgansmoreid · 3 years ago
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Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Three
Chapter Name: “ Old Friends"
Fic Masterlist
Italic writing stands for flashbacks.
Content/Trigger Warnings: Just a little bit of smut
---
"Y/n-y/n" Y/F/N stuttered over his words.
Y/n let go of her father's hand and stepped back. He looked different, his hair was colored and lighter, his facial hair was cleaner.
He looked better.
"Dad?" Penelope questioned in the tense silence between the two. Her mouth hung open, and she tilted the side, catching the resemblance of both.
"Can you please show us inside, my sweet, caring father?" Y/n taunted.
Y/F/N was silent as he turned around and led the way to a conference room. It was big, the file box laid out on the table. Y/n cleared it and allowed Penelope to set up her stuff while Y/n starting gather evidence for the rest of the team.
Penelope decided not to push anymore and started looking for what connected the victims, so far unsuccessful.
About 10 minutes later, Y/n pinned the last picture to the board and started her own research when the door flew open.
"Really? You fucking knew and didn't bother to call?" A man screamed at her.
Y/n scoffed as she put down her tablet and pen and leaned back in her chair, arms crossing right above her chest.
"Nice to see you too, James," Y/n spoke, the venom in her voice visible for the man in front of her.
"Chrissy is dead! Cat is dead! And you're mocking me?" He accused.
Y/n got up, slowly, and stood in front of James, their faces so close, Y/n could smell the mint gum coming off his breath.
"One, stop screaming at me. I am not a damn child. Two, I don't know shit. That's not how the FBI works, dumbass." She insulted, growling low in his ear.
Neither of them realized that Derek and Spencer were back already, gaining little evidence from hotel one.
Derek cleared his throat at the sight of his girlfriend chest to chest with another man. They both looked over to him, Y/n's eyes landing on his clenched fist.
She stepped back and took her seat, resuming her work. James watched her carefully, her hand going across her yellow pad with each word she wrote.
"You could have called," He said, loud enough for everyone to hear before closing the door and leaving.
Everyone looked at Y/n, waiting for an explanation.
"Deputy James, everyone," Y/n rolled her eyes at the closed door.
"What does he mean, 'you could have called,'" Spencer accusingly asked.
Y/n only shrugged her shoulders at Spencer's question before making small eye contact with Derek. She quickly broke it, eyes now falling on the brown table.
Derek sat in front of her, leaning in so only she could truly hear the growl in his voice.
"Who was that?"
James's lips smashed onto Y/n's, his hands slowly caressing her back.
"We shouldn't James," Y/n pulled away, still in his grasp.
"We don't have to," James let go and moved back slightly.
Something in Y/N told her it was right, she needed him at this moment, she wanted him.
Nearly jumping in his arms, Y/n's fingers ran through James's hair as their lips connected.
Cupping her ass, James picked up Y/n and walked towards his bedroom. Wrapping her legs around James's waist, Y/n kicked off her shoes and grinded against his covered, hard cock as he closed the door.
"Just an old friend," Y/n replied, opening her tablet and reviewing the crime scenes again.
The tension in the room grew as everyone stayed silent. Emily and JJ joined shortly after, this time with more information. Even with David and Aaron joining the group, Penelope still failed to find out what connect these victims.
Even if it was sitting only 2 feet away from her.
5'oclock hit when the door busted open. Sheriff Feilds and Deputy Diaz busted in with the news of another body. Neither man mentioned who it was and lead the way as everyone, besides Penelope, sped down the blocks of Allen.
Cutting off all blocks access, Aaron took the lead into the hotel as the team followed him. The change in the energy of the room was noticeable. JJ went down the hallways of the floor, trying to calm everyone who had their heads out.
Stepping out from behind the rest of the team, Y/n's eyes immediately hit the body on the bed. Tears lined her eyes as she started to step back, bumping into James. He caught her, arms slightly covering her body.
Y/n quickly moved out of his grasp and closer to the body, careful not to mess up the crime examiner photos or the blood the surrounded the bed. The others looked around the room, hoping to find something that pointed to the unsub.
When the examiners were done with the body, Y/n grabbed a glove from her pocket and put it on before touching the victim's face. This caught Aarons's attention and he moved closer to her, ready to scold her for her lack of protocol.
"Victim is Daniela Choi, age 31, C.O.D seems to be the gunshot to the heart this time. No close relatives, her emergency contact has already been informed of victims condition," Y/n spoke first.
"We didn't contact her EC yet," Emily spoke.
"You don't have to, Y/n and I are her contacts.
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august-bleeds-red · 4 years ago
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Tag Team
In which the AFAB!Reader discovers what Bo and Vincent can achieve when they work together.
Dedicated to the fabulous @quiveringdeer for being my sounding board and general awesome human, and to the absurdly talented @thesightstoshowyou for igniting my love for these boys with her phenomenal writing!  ❤️ NSFW under the line.  
You know you’ve been in the Sinclair household too long when you can identify the person behind you by how they grab your ass.
 “Bo,” you sigh, glancing over your shoulder at the smug bastard smirking at you. You’ve been cleaning almost all afternoon, sweeping and scrubbing under the kitchen units, and the stove is your final task before you allow yourself some rest. “Really? Right now?”
 “Hell yeah right now,” he chuckles, smoothing a large hand over your jeans-clad ass cheek. “You’re puttin’ on too much of a show here for me to wait, darlin’.”
 Setting down the dishrag you’ve been scrubbing the stovetop with, you wipe your hands on the ratty old T-shirt you’re wearing and turn to face him. You can’t lie – even after all these months, he’s still more than a little intimidating to you. Six-foot-one of sinewy red-blooded Louisiana male, leering down at you like a fox cornering a baby rabbit.
 “Now, what made you think I was interested in seein’ your face?” he says, gripping your hips and swivelling you back round to face the stove. He’s undoing the button on your jeans when a shadow falls across you from the doorway. You both turn to see Vincent staring at the two of you. He’s dressed casually, meaning in clothes that aren’t caked in wax, his long hair pulled back in a messy ponytail at his neck.
 “Little busy here,” Bo warns.
 Vincent looks to your face, already flushed with expectant arousal.
 It’s my turn, he signs.
 “Fuck off it’s your turn,” Bo snorts. “Go on, get.”
 But Vincent’s not budging this time. Three long strides and he has his hands on you, jerking you from Bo’s grip and pinning you to his chest.
 “The fuck?” Bo looks genuinely annoyed now. “Y’think you can just barge in here and blue-balls me?”
 You groan in exasperation. Usually this kind of She’s Mine play would have you feeling hot under the collar, but it’s been a long day. “Look, one or both of you just do it or let me get back to work, okay?”
 A thread of silent communication seems to pass between the twins, and Bo’s lip curls mischievously. “You want front or back?” he asks.
 Vincent holds his hand out flat in front of his face and moves it downwards to his chin.
 Bo shrugs. “Fine by me.”
 Before you can so much as question what’s happening, Vincent hauls you up and over his shoulder, carrying you like a sack of potatoes to the ancient shag-pile rug in front of the TV. Setting you down, he quickly pulls off your T-shirt while Bo tugs at your jeans. You step out of them almost automatically, the cogs in your weary brain piecing together what’s about to happen. Forcing you to your knees, the brothers both unbuckle their belts.
 “Eldest first,” Bo grins, grabbing a fistful of your hair and guiding you to his waiting erection. Your mouth opens automatically and you take him inside, bracing yourself against his thighs as he drags you back and forth along his length.
 “Ahh yeah, that’s it, baby.”
 Knowing what’s expected of you, you scramble blindly for Vincent, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking it. He lets out a rasping moan and thrusts into your loose grip. Bo allows you to break free and you turn your attentions to Vincent, sucking on him until he’s rock hard against your tongue. You’re vaguely aware of Bo rummaging for something in a nearby drawer, and when your eyes focus on the blue bottle he unearths you realise “front or back” was not referring to Vincent in your mouth and Bo in your pussy.
 “Wait—” You try to pull away, try to stand, but Vincent already has a hold of you.
 With a strength that always manages to surprise you, he drags you down to straddle his hips, one hand already on his cock, nudging the tip at your slit. Despite your disquiet at the way Bo is approaching leisurely from behind, you can’t stop the moan that falls from your lips as you’re impaled on Vincent’s impressive girth. He may be the quieter of the twins, but he’s by no means merciful – not with his victims, and not with your body. You thank stars for the natural lubrication of your arousal that allows him to penetrate with little resistance, the sting of the stretch lasting only a moment before the warmth of pleasure blankets you. Vincent’s hands settle on your waist, easing you slowly – but firmly – down, until your thighs meet his hips. You unconsciously push upwards as he lifts you, chasing that spark of bliss that curls through your lower belly. Vincent’s thumbs paint patterns in your skin, hips thrusting to meet your downward strokes. You cry out, palms flat against his chest, the muscles in your legs burning with the effort to keep elevated.  
 “Room for one more?” Bo’s liquor-smooth voice murmurs in your ear, and you feel the straps of your bra ping loose. Throwing the offending undergarment aside, Bo cups your breasts and squeezes hard. You gasp and he claps one hand across your mouth, slipping two thick fingers inside. You taste traces of engine oil and tobacco, the smoky-sweet scent you’ve come to associate with him. Combined with the aroma of wax and clay that clings to Vincent, you’re deliciously trapped in a cloying fog of aphrodesia.
 Releasing your mouth, Bo’s hand traces the curve of your spine, pressing between your shoulder-blades to force you into a more accessible position. Your heart pounds and you glance anxiously over your shoulder at him. His eyes glint wickedly back at you, one hand stroking his cock with obvious intent.
 “Bo,” you whisper. “Please. . .”
 “Please what, baby-doll?” he purrs.
 “Don’t hurt me.”
 “Now why would I do a terrible thing like that?”
 He rubs the tip of one finger, wet from your mouth, against your rear hole; Vincent slows his thrusts to a slow, crawling pace, just enough to keep the fire lit. You squirm as Bo’s digit pushes past the tight ring of muscle, the intrusion not big enough to hurt, but enough to feel unusual. When he adds a second finger, however, you flinch.
 “Aw, too much?” You can hear the gleeful grin in his voice. Pushing both fingers in to the second knuckle, he splits them into a V, stretching you in preparation. You guess you should be thankful he’s giving any at all. You feel strangely empty when he pulls them out, but only for the briefest moment before you feel something bigger take their place. Vincent falls still as a figurine, his one sky-blue eye watching your face intently. Reaching between your bodies, he rubs the fore and middle fingers of one hand against your clit, sending a hum of pleasure murmuring through you to counteract what’s happening behind.
 “Oh fuck, baby,” Bo grits his teeth as his cockhead disappears inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”
 By the time he’s fully sheathed, you’re trying to remember your name. You’ve never felt so full as you do now, you would go so far as to say . . . complete. Vincent drinks in your kaleidoscope of expressions like a man dying of thirst; the holy sequence of pain and pleasure that crosses your face more beautiful than any art he could create alone. He gives an experimental thrust and you see Heaven. When the brothers begin moving together, you can just barely cling to your sanity. The warm, soothing ecstasy from Vincent integrated with the sharp, gratifying pain being served to you by Bo takes you to a new plane of experience.
 “Y’like that, huh?” Bo threads his fingers through your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck. “Y’like being stuffed like a little slut?”
 “Nng . . . uhh . . .” Your tongue feels too big for your mouth.
 “Say it,” Bo licks a long stripe up the side of your neck. “Tell us what you are.”
 “I-I . . .” the tempo of the two of them inside you sends lights popping before your eyes. “I’m— I’m a slut.”
 “And who owns your pretty little pussy?” He deals a sharp slap across your ass cheek. “Who does this ass belong to?”
 “You!” You’re almost sobbing, your pleasure rising within you like the sun. “Oh God, Bo . . . Vince . . .”
 Bo quickens pace, hips smacking into your ass with ruthless force, and Vincent hand is almost vibrating with the speed at which he’s massaging your clit. Your combined gasps and moans rise in harmony, Bo turning the air blue with lustful curses.
 “Oh god, oh fuck,” you whimper, white heat radiating upwards through your body from where you’re connected. “I’m— I’m gonna cum . . .”
 “That’s it, baby,” Bo grunts, his thrusts evolving into mindless snaps of his hips, jerking so sharply you wonder if you’ll have bruises there tomorrow. “You’re gonna be drippin’ with cum after this. Gonna fill you so fuckin’ full.”
 Your scream must echo to the church when you finally finish, your inner walls pulsating against Vincent’s cock and drawing his own orgasm from him. The warmth of his seed fills you, spilling down your thighs.
 “Gonna cum in your ass,” Bo’s breathing is ragged, you can tell he’s close. “Gonna fuckin’—”
 The sensation of cum shooting deep into your ass is an interesting one, but the wild howl of ecstasy that emits from Bo more than makes up for it. Both brothers are twisted, broken, often cruel, but God if they don’t give you pleasure the like of which you’ve never known; or likely ever will again.
 You collapse onto Vincent’s chest as Bo pulls out of you, unable to keep your balance any longer. Vincent’s softening cock is still inside you, twitching occasionally when you move. Bo staggers to his feet and cups your jaw in his palm, claiming a feral kiss from your dry lips.
 “You’re ours, Y/N,” he says.
 “Yours . . .” you nod dazedly. You think you might pass out.
 Both of you glance down at Vincent. It’s not often that he speaks, but the monosyllabic moments he does are always worth the effort. Lifting his wax mask from his face, he gives his own interpretation of Bo’s signature smug grin.
 “Ours.”
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maddiewritesstucky · 4 years ago
Text
💕 Silver Steve and Bucky - Intimacy 💕
Your honor, they’re  t O u C H i n G
Rating: Explicit
You wanted it, I wanted it, so here it is - the extremely feelsy and long-winded beginning of Silver Steve and Bucky’s sexual relationship. It’s almost 3k long so I’m not sure what to even call it at this point, it starts as HC and slips into being fic when dialogue made the formatting look messy. 
***
  Bucky is self-aware enough to know that he tends to lead with his heart, is a bit of a romantic and tends to feel things big. It’s both a blessing and a curse - he’s been burned before by his desire to love and be loved, and he knows the sensible thing here would be to take things slow with Steve, but...he doesn’t want to
Every moment he spends with Steve over the weeks following their first date only serves to confirm that Bucky is safe to embrace his vulnerability, to let himself feel this growing connection in its entirety. There’s a patience and sincerity to the way Steve approaches their budding relationship, this underlying sense that something very real is being built here, that makes Bucky want to throw his whole self into it, and his body is very much on board with this idea
A little too on board
Bucky has always been comfortable in his sexual nature, has always enjoyed physical intimacy and considers his drive for it pretty typical for a guy his age. But Steve stirs up something in him that’s not entirely familiar; a deeper, richer shade of want than anything Bucky’s ever felt before
He can’t close his eyes without seeing Steve’s face, his hands, his broad shoulders and tight waist. He finds himself lying awake at night, running his hands over his body, picturing how Steve might touch him, how he’d lay hands and lips and whispered words all over Bucky’s bare skin, pouring his whole being into forging a new kind of connection between them
It’s longing, to put it plainly, and it embeds itself right at Bucky’s core, sending out tendrils that crackle and spark under his skin when Steve gets close
He finds himself creating excuses to touch Steve, putting himself in Steve’s physical space any chance he gets just to feel the magnitude of his presence. He’ll walk close so their hands brush, and choose places to sit that necessitate their thighs pressing together, and lean his weight all the way forward against Steve’s chest when Steve kisses his cheek or chastely pecks him on the lips at the end of a date
And it’s not that Steve doesn't realize what Bucky’s doing, or doesn’t want it - he’s acutely and joyously aware of Bucky’s physical proximity at all times. It’s just...Bucky’s young, comparatively, and Steve wants to be sure they’re developing their relationship as a whole
Steve needs to know for himself that he’s done everything he can to create a culture of respect and trust and security between them, because he knows once they open that door to sexual intimacy, it will be nothing short of consuming
So he tries to hold back. He really does. He succeeds for a while too, but every time Bucky gets in his space, every time he puts his hands on Steve’s chest and sighs against his lips or winds his arms up around Steve’s neck, Steve’s resolves cracks a little more
He kisses Bucky a little deeper, holds on a little tighter and a little longer. He allows his hands to trace the curve of Bucky’s back and squeeze at his hips, lets some of that hunger creep into his touch because he can’t keep pretending he’s not starving for this
It’s one night when he’s driving Bucky home after a dinner date that the current between them shifts in a way that Steve doesn’t have the fortitude to redirect anymore
All night, Bucky’s been different with him, bold and insistent in the way he gets up in Steve’s space; letting his touches linger and looking at Steve with unmistakable intent. His hand has been resting on Steve’s thigh the whole drive home, fingertips tracing steadily higher up the inseam of Steve’s jeans, and there’s not a damn thing Steve can do to hide the effect it’s having on him
They roll to a stop at a red light, and Steve looks over to find Bucky staring at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth and a determination in his gaze that Steve hasn’t seen before
When he speaks, there’s a faint shimmer of nerves in his voice, but he doesn’t let himself break from Steve’s gaze even for a second.
“Steve, when we get back to my place...I’m going to ask you to come inside, and I want you to say yes.”
“Buck--”
“Say yes, Steve. Come home with me...put your hands on me.” 
The light’s changed but Steve can’t move for a minute, can’t make the shift from brake to gas pedal. Bucky’s hand is trembling a little on his thigh and he’s looking at Steve so open and imploring, and what else can Steve do but lean over the console and put his lips against Bucky’s?  
He kisses him fierce and desperate, and when they finally make it back to Bucky’s place, they get all of about two steps in past the front door before the dam breaks and Steve’s catching Bucky’s mouth in a searing kiss, backing him up against the door and slipping his hands up under Bucky’s shirt.
God, his skin is so warm, so soft, just like his lips; just like the push of Bucky’s tongue into his mouth and the sounds catching in Bucky’s throat.
“Can’t stop thinking about you, ‘bout this,” Bucky breathes, says it like a confession he’s been waiting to unload. His hands fumble at Steve’s belt and he's huffing soft frustrated sounds but it’s too soon, too fast - Steve wants to drag this out forever just so he can unravel Bucky one pleasure-thread at a time, wants to touch Bucky in ways that will sink all the way down to his marrow and never leave him for as long as he lives.
He catches Bucky���s hands and pins them up above his head, shushing Bucky’s protests and kissing him slow; stroking his tongue against Bucky’s over and over until the frantic edge to Bucky’s movements has ebbed. 
“God I want you, you got no idea…” he whispers against Bucky’s lips, releasing Bucky’s hands to run his own down Bucky’s sides, squeezing at his waist and his hips. “Wanna give you everything, sweetheart...you gonna let me?” 
...Up to this point, Bucky’s held in his mind a picture of Steve, of the respectful, kind, self-controlled man he’s been dating for the past two months. It’s an accurate picture, one that’s been reaffirmed time and time again. But it’s not until he takes Steve by the hand and leads him to the bedroom that Bucky realizes it’s been an incomplete picture, in ways he couldn’t have imagined.
The Steve who follows Bucky to the bedroom; who slowly strips him of his clothes and leaves not a single inch of exposed skin unkissed, whose gaze drags over him heavy and hot, who whispers things about Bucky’s body that make Bucky’s cheeks go up in flames...this Steve is deeply, unashamedly erotic. 
Bucky feels suddenly like he’s been dating Steve’s soul all this time, and is just now for the first time meeting Steve the flesh-and-blood man, sensual and sexual and hungry in ways that are making Bucky’s head spin.
He strips Bucky down, gently batting Bucky’s hands away when he reaches to try hurry Steve along. He runs his hands and his mouth over Bucky’s skin, tells him how beautiful he is, how soft his skin is, how good he feels under Steve’s hands. 
“I’ve thought about this so many times,” Steve confesses, kissing softly around Bucky’s ear, “I tried not to, but...god, I’ve been dreamin’ about your body, sweetheart…’bout all the things I wanna do to it…” 
“Tell me,” Bucky gasps, “everything, all of it.”
...He asks for it, expects a few heated words or maybe even Steve burying his face in the crook of his neck and running his mouth right there against his skin. What he doesn’t anticipate is Steve pulling back; sinking down to sit at the edge of the bed, taking Bucky’s hands gently in his and pulling him to stand between his spread thighs.
His thumbs stroke across the backs of Bucky’s hands, a soft, mundane gesture, and it’s the only physical contact Steve makes as he looks Bucky dead in the eye, and starts to talk.
“I think about touching you, Bucky. More than holding your hand, or wrapping my arms around you, or kissing your lips...I think about touching you like a lover, in places and in ways no else gets to.  I’ve thought about what you’d taste like, what you’d sound like...if you’d grab onto me or shake in my arms or cry out for me...if you’d need me…” 
“Makes me feel selfish, Buck, the way that I want you...way I want you to want me. Wanna know what it feels like to bury my face between your thighs, feel them wrapping around my head...wanna know what your cock feels like in my hand, and on my tongue, and god Bucky, I...I think about what you’d feel like on the inside. If I just pressed inside you with my fingertip, if I was careful...if I just, stroked you, on the inside..if you’d like it…” 
Steve knows he’s being intense as all hell, but he can’t help it - here’s Bucky standing before him, aroused and vulnerable and looking at him with all the trust in the world, and he couldn’t give him any less than the absolute honest truth even if he tried. He needs Bucky to know not just that he desires him, but that he sees him, and that doing right by Bucky in this way matters to him more than Bucky could ever know.
...It’s the most intense thing Bucky has ever experienced. He stands there naked before Steve, gazes locked and hands joined, listening to Steve unabashedly share his most private fantasies, and Bucky can’t tell if he wants to cry more for how overwhelming it all is, or for the sheer revelation that in spite of that...he’s never felt safer in his life. 
He pulls Steve back to his feet and fumbles his way through tugging Steve’s clothes off his body, hands shaking and heart racing, and it’s a striking contrast to the absolute self-assuredness radiating off of Steve. There’s not an ounce of reservation or self-consciousness in him - he bares himself to Bucky and just lets Bucky look, lets Bucky see him exactly as he is, and Bucky wants to look at this and only this for the rest of his goddamn life.
He knew on some level what he was in for, with Steve’s preference for well-fitting clothes. But it’s a whole other thing, seeing it in the literal flesh - the flush on Steve’s skin, the constellations of freckles over his shoulders; the dusky pink of his peaked nipples and the dark hair that covers the broad spread of his chest and trails all the way down his belly. 
He’s a picture of functional strength, softened by age on the surface but unmistakably powerful at his core, his frame still holding onto the vague curves and dips of muscle that probably would have looked airbrushed 10 years ago. His body is so big, and beautiful, and there’s so much of him to look at, but Bucky’s eyes can’t help but gravitate to one particular spot.
...Bucky hasn’t blushed over a dick since he was a teenager, but Steve is thick, and he’s hard, and he’s leaking from the flushed tip and it’s all because of Bucky, and that knowledge alone almost sends Bucky over the edge.
He steps in close and runs his hands over Steve, presses his palms to all that strength and runs his fingertips through Steve’s body hair, kisses him right over his heart and breathes in the scent of his skin, and Steve just lets him do it all; just lets him touch and explore and wraps his arms around him when Bucky presses in close against him.
Bucky’s shaking by the time Steve lays them both out on the bed, pressed together chest to chest; his hands stroking down Bucky’s back and his lips touching soft kisses to Bucky’s face. It already feels like so much, and they’ve barely even begun to touch yet.
Bucky couldn’t explain even to himself what it is that happens between them that night. Maybe it’s sex, and maybe it’s not, but it’s the best Bucky’s ever had it either way. They kiss deeply and slowly, they hold each other and run hands over each other, and roll and shift their bodies in ways that make their breaths hitch and have them moaning soft sounds against each other's lips.
Steve puts his mouth on Bucky so heartbreakingly tender; touches him inside and out with a reverence Bucky’s never known, and Steve doesn’t have to say a word of it for Bucky to understand with bone-deep clarity that his pleasure matters to Steve.
And Steve, he’s at once buoyed and grounded by the sheer responsibility of it all, of the gift he’s being given. He feels like he’s holding a livewire in his hands, can see and hear and feel that Bucky is so close to being overwhelmed, his young body so much quicker to respond and so much harder to pull back from the precipice.
He just wants to give to Bucky, to make him feel held and desired and known; to see him lean into his own pleasure and feel whatever it is he feels, and to do it open and unashamed.
He finds himself praising Bucky for the sounds he’s letting out, strokes Bucky’s face and tells him he’s so beautiful like this; rubs the rigid line of his own cock into the crease of Bucky’s hip, “see what you do to me, how much you turn me on?”  
Bucky’s gone for it, allows himself to just be wholly in the moment. Steve is pleasuring him, but this is not something that’s being done to him - Steve’s doing this with him, every bit as caught up and aroused and invested as Bucky is, and Bucky thinks maybe he’s never really known true intimacy before, because it’s never been this.
When he finally comes apart in Steve’s arms, it might have been Steve’s hand on him, or the rub of Steve’s body against his, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s surrounded, by Steve’s warmth and his skin and his scent and his voice in Bucky’s ear telling him that he’s safe, that it’s okay to let go, and Bucky’s never believed anything more in all his life.
In the afterglow of his orgasm he’s distantly cognizant of himself asking Steve to come, as good as pleading for it. Steve insists he doesn’t need it tonight, that this was already more than he’d hoped for. But his arousal is broadcast loud across his body and Bucky wants it, needs to know how it feels to be part of Steve falling apart.
He curls himself around Steve’s body and reaches for his cock, kissing him along the line of his jaw, and Steve gives into him with a sigh; wrapping an arm around Bucky and holding him close.
Bucky’s grip is a little weak in his exerted state, so Steve wraps his own hand around Bucky’s and together they stroke him tight and slow, and it’s not long before his body is drawing taut and his breaths start to catch on the inhale. When Steve comes, he does it  quietly - no more than a sigh and a soft sound at the back of his throat, but the vulnerability of it hits Bucky hard.
The emotional aftermath is heady. They’re both breathing hard, pressed close and looking at each other like they’re trying to figure out if this is real, if this happened. Bucky finds himself clinging to Steve in a way that’s not entirely dignified, but Steve doesn’t seem any more willing to let him go, so they just hold each other; kissing soft and slow, just like how they began.
Bucky doesn’t need to ask if Steve intends to stay over - Steve’s looking at him like he might never leave this bed again. They clean up and nestle in under the covers, physically spent and a little emotionally raw in that way it can be when your heart suddenly cracks itself wide open and throws a ‘sold’ sign on itself.
They’ll talk about all of it in the morning, put words to some of the things they’ve both been thinking and feeling and wanting. But for tonight, they fall asleep wrapped around each other; Bucky’s head cradled against Steve’s chest, and neither of them set an alarm because it’s Saturday tomorrow, and they have nowhere they need to be.
More to the point, neither of them have anywhere else they’d want to be. Maybe ever. 
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julieloveupstead · 3 years ago
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"I'm Never Leave You" - Upstead
Chapter 4
- "Detective Rollins," she heard a female voice on the other end.
- "Hello, this is Detective Upton with the Chicago Police Department." - Hailey called the detective who had handled two similar cases to the one she and the team were handling a few years ago.
- "Hello. How can I help you, Detective?"
- "Today we started on a double murder case, similar to the one we found that the state was investigating a few years ago." - she explained to the woman on the other end. In the meantime, Sergeant Platt brought her, the autopsy results of the murdered boys.
- "Which one specifically?" - the voice on the other side pulled her from her reading.
- "It's about the beating, sexual abuse and then murder of two young men. We found drugs in the building with a similar tag. We think the two cases are connected." - Hailey elaborated.
- "And that's how I remember that case. We had a case like that, but we didn't have a suspect. When the son of one of the diplomats was murdered, the FBI took over the investigation, but as far as I know they didn't even catch anyone either. Practically, the investigation came to a standstill." - Detective Rollins said. But listen, email us with what you've found so far, and we'll compare it with ours and let you know." - suggested the Detective on the other end.
- "Okay, we'll send you everything we have right away, and I look forward to hearing from you." - and after a brief goodbye, Hailey hung up.
She went back to reviewing what she got from Trudy and then decided to call the FBI some more, who as Detective Rollins told her had taken over the investigation.
At the same time, Jay in Voight's office. Since the Sergeant wasn't there, he figured nothing would happen if he stayed there for a while, and If the Sergeant returned unexpectedly, Jay didn't care. If anything, after what he found out, he didn't care what opinion he would have of him or how angry he would be with him. As far as Jay was concerned, Voight might not be coming back. Back on the case, Jay had just spoken with an officer from the LAPD, and they also arranged to share information.
After the call, he returned to the bullpen, where Hailey was still talking. He sat down at his desk and watched her. He may have looked like a stalker, but he loved watching Hailey passionately do every single thing, even when they weren't together yet, the passion with which she gave herself to her work was remarkable, and he always appreciated that very much.
Hailey could feel Jay's burning gaze on her from the start and had to really try to keep her attention on what Agent Anderson-Li was saying.
- Jay, don't look at me like that," Hailey whispered as she ended the call.
- How am I looking? - Jay asked in an innocent voice, getting up from his seat and walking over to Hailey's desk.
- Well, like this - she pointed her hand at him. Jay sat down on her desk as usual.
- What do you mean? - he asked again, leaning over her.
- Like I'm your whole world - she whispered huskily.
- I can't help it if you're my whole world, Angel. - he whispered back.
Hailey gazed into his eyes and saw the loving look in his eyes until her heart beat a thousand times more, and if it wasn't for the fact that she was sitting, she was sure that she would have fallen intimidated by such great affection. She felt like she would never get used to how much Jay loved her.
For many years, she thought she didn't deserve to have a guy love her for who she was. Her father had admirably proven that for many years of her teenage life, and then the guys she'd been with when they found out what baggage she had left her behind. The exception was Garrett, but before things could get serious with him, he died at the hands of Booth and now that she's with Jay she can't believe that after everything he's learned about her and everything she's done he's still here looking at her with the same tender, loving and lustful eyes.
Since the day they started being together, Hailey thinks she's been dreaming and doesn't for the hell of it ever want to wake up from it.
- Jay, please don't say that - she couldn't help but have fears in addition to all the wonderful emotions she was feeling. Because what does he really see in her? After all, she's no one special. And after what had happened a few days ago, and not only that, all her pushback to cross the boundaries of the law, it all didn't look to her advantage. She was broken, and she knew that Jay accepted her like this 100 or even 200%, but she couldn't quell the fear that someday Jay would finally realize that there was nothing to glue together, or would he just be tired of it all and just walk away?
She used to think that the thing that kept her from telling Jay how I felt about him was the fear that he wouldn't feel the same way about her, but now she thought it was the fear that she would finally realize how complicated it really was and his leaving.
- Hailey...
- Guys, I found the owners of the house where we found these two boys. - Adam entered the bullpen, preventing Jay from finishing. They both turned towards him and waited for further information from their friend. - The owners are Margaret and Joseph Tremblay. - He walked over to the board and pinned up a photo, then walked over to the two detectives and gave them some cards. - Two years ago Margaret died after a months-long battle with cancer, shortly afterwards Joseph left for a retirement home. They had no children. - He explained.
- And do you know who he sold it to? - Jay asked.
- No one, Joseph was just renting it out, not to some Richard West guy. - replied Adam. - And I checked that no one with that name had rented the house recently. - He added when he saw the questioning look from his friends.
- So he was cheated? - asked Hailey.
- It seems so. - answered Adam. - The only question is by whom - said Jay.
- 'Okay Adam, we'll wait for Kevin and for Sergeant Smith and Officer Wilson, and we'll be done for the day, because we probably won't find one today anyway. - Jay sat down at his desk.
- Adam, do you know anything about Kim? - Hailey dared to ask her friend.
- 'Mhmm, her parents are sitting by her, and her sister texted me that her condition is stable, but the doctors are afraid to wake her up yet. - He replied, sitting down in his seat. Jay and Hailey looked worriedly at Adam, who, though he tried to hold back, had tears in his eyes. - I'm so scared for her. - He hid his face in his hands.
The pair of detectives looked at each other. They felt very sorry for their friend. Hailey knew exactly what the friend was talking about. After all, it had been over a year ago that Hailey had been in his shoes, and she remembered well the fear when she found out Jay had been kidnapped, and then waiting in the hospital waiting room for him to get some information and for him to finally wake up. It was like a nightmare. For months, she couldn't shake the images of Jay full of blood lying on the concrete floor and even to this day in her nightmares reliving it all over again.
She stood up and put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed in a gesture of support that Adam needed so much right now. Adam nodded in acknowledgement, Hailey smiled some more and went to the coffee room with a mug in her hand.
However, instead of making coffee, memories entered her head. She thought she had gotten over it, that she had accepted what had happened and moved on, but apparently this whole thing with Kim had caused the unwanted memories to return.
When Jay went missing, the worst part was the fear of not knowing where to look and that going around in circles was awful, and then the thoughts of whether she would make it in time or see him again. She was also angry with herself that something like this had happened, and until now she could not forgive herself that she had let such a situation happen at all. And when she finally managed to find him and saw his battered face her heart was breaking, but the fact that she found him beaten and bloody but alive helped give hope that all was not lost yet, that maybe they still had a chance. When Jay said he still had to come back for Angel, she barely held back the tears that started to appear at the corners of her eyes because it was all him. Jay Halstead, a man with a huge heart who always thinks of others first and himself last, even if it would cost him his life. And just when she thought the worst was behind her, it got worse. And waiting in that bloody room in the hospital waiting for any information about his condition and the emerging thoughts that this would be the last time she would see him was even worse. That's why he knows exactly what he might be experiencing right now.
Because knowing that the person you love so much is suffering, and you don't know if this is the last time you will see this person, is indescribable. Those things that you were afraid to tell him about, you may now not even have the chance to say anymore.
She closed the door and sat down on the couch. She brought her knees to her chest and just let go. She doesn't know at what point tears started streaming down her cheeks, and she didn't know if she was crying because of the memories, or because of Kim, or because of what happened in that damn warehouse, or maybe because of everything at once. She had to admit to herself that she felt tired of keeping herself in check in front of everyone, but most of all herself. She was already sick of it all. She felt a complete confusion in her head and did not know what she should do now. She knew that she would not be able to stand this way for long, that finally, after so many years, she had reached the limit of her endurance and did not know how to turn back.
When Hailey closed the door behind her, Jay still looked after her for a moment. He was worried, and he was worried a lot. He knew that the memories from over 1.5 years ago had to come back to her now because of Kim. Until now, Jay couldn't forgive himself for what he had done. When he was sitting in that basement and when they beat him and then after he was shot, his only thought was Hailey and her smile and how she would be mad at him. After that, he promised himself that he would never let something like that happen, that he would never let Hailey suffer. That's why he was so hurt by what Voight had done to her.
- Is Hailey okay? - Adam pulled him out of his thoughts.
- Mhmm, this whole Kim kidnapping thing has cost everyone a lot. - Jay didn't know how much he should say or if he should say anything at all, so he answered evasively. Adam just nodded.
- I remember when you were missing and Hailey was losing her mind. If it wasn't for her and what she did, I don't know if we would have found you. - Jay was puzzled by his friend's words and didn't know what to say, just stared at his companion.
He had never wondered how they had found him, he didn't know the need to revisit the subject. He was afraid that it would bring back bad memories and for him and most of all for Hailey, who he knew was going through a lot. - I know Hailey won't dare to do this, but I know her and I know that she loves you very much, you know that? - After a moment of silence Adam spoke again and again the honesty of his friend's words clobbered him. Now that he and Hailey were together to know that this wonderful person loved him was surreal, but in a positive sense of course, but when he heard it from an outsider, a person who doesn't even know they're together, it made his heart beat harder.
- I... Emm - Jay didn't know what he should say now, not to give too much away, and he was tempted to say out loud that he knew and that they were together, but he knew it wasn't something he should say himself.
- Jay - Desk Sergeant Platt came into the bullpen, delivering Jay from further conversation. Both men looked in her direction. - Nathan Robertson's parents had just arrived.
- Adam, will you come with me? - Jay looked at his friend, who nodded without hesitation. Before going downstairs, Jay took another look at the door to the break room where Hailey was staying and then approached Sergeant Platt. - Trudy, can I have a request? - The older woman just nodded, waiting for the young police officer to finally say something. - Could you sit with Hailey for a moment? - he asked quietly so that Adam, who was waiting for him by the stairs, could come over. Although he knew Hailey wanted to be alone, he didn't know if that was a good idea.
- Did something happen? - The Sergeant asked herself, surprised by her subordinate's request and most surprised by his worried look.
- You could say that. Serge, Hailey probably won't want to talk and will want to push you away but ... - He paused and looked away from Serge and looked in the direction his girlfriend was and then again at the older woman who was looking at him with a worried look. He realized suddenly that he trusted the woman standing across from him more than anyone on this command, much like Hailey, for whom Trudy was an important authority figure, and that was the only reason he'd dared after asking the Sergeant. - There's been a lot going on lately, and I'm just worried about her and I know she trusts you Serge like no one else and I trust you too. Hailey needs someone like you right now. - It was the first time he dared to say such a personal thing.
- Of course I'll sit with her. - Sergeant Platt hadn't been as moved by Jay's words in a long time as she was at that moment. The way Jay was worried about Hailey was heartwarming. It was the first time Trudy had seen, Jay so in love, and she was so happy that both of her best men were now happy.
- Thank you - Jay was grateful and sent the Sergeant a slight smile before joining his friend.
- Jay - before they went downstairs, though, Platt stopped them for another moment. - She almost forgot, I managed to identify the other boy. His name was Harry Bartel. He grew up in an orphanage and then was sent to a reformatory for theft and battery, where he had just met Robertson. - Jay nodded his head in understanding in passing, and then he and Adam finally went downstairs to the dead boy's parents.
Left alone, Trudy walked up to the locked room where she knocked on the closed door, and when she heard a quiet "please" after a moment, she entered.
Hailey was sitting on the couch and when she looked at the Desk Sergeant entering the room, she quickly wiped her wet cheeks and tried for a warm smile, but unfortunately a grimace came out.
- What's up, Trudy? - she said in a voice hoarse from crying, which she tried to mask with a grunt.
- Hailey, what's going on? - Trudy immediately noticed that she must have been crying, which immediately worried her.
- I don't know what you're talking about. - Hailey tried her best to sound normal and hide everything, hoping that the Sergeant would let it go. However, seeing the expression on the older woman's face, she knew she wouldn't succeed.
- Hailey, who are you trying to fool? - Platt sat down next to her subordinate and watched her vigilantly, sitting down at the table so that she could look at her. - Your boyfriend said it would be like this. - The older woman laughed, causing a puzzled look on Hailey's face.
- Did you talk to Jay? - Hailey asked herself in disbelief at the Desk Sergeant's words.
- Chuckles just confirmed what I've been seeing for the past few weeks, and I'm not talking about you, I mean what's going on with you. - She looked at her with a watchful, bone-penetrating gaze, making Hailey feel as if the older woman was reading her mind.
- Serge, it's all right, really - Upton tried again to convince the woman sitting next to her, and above all herself, that nothing was going on, but to no avail. With all her might, she did not want to let on that it was wrong, that something was going on. It's enough that he sees her so broken all the time, and that shouldn't be the case. Hailey doesn't like to show her weakness, that something hurts her, that there are millions of demons swirling around in her head that she can't deal with.
- You're a lot like me, you know? - said Platt in reply to Hailey, who was surprised by her words and waited for her to elaborate further. - From an early age I was taught that emotions are weakness, that if I am not tough, that if I show even the slightest weakness I will get nowhere. So I was like that at work and at home, which meant I was alone most of my life, but I didn't care too much because I worked in the police force, which was my dream, so as long as everything was going well professionally I didn't care that I had no boyfriend, no friends. At work, this frigidity helped me to survive in a world dominated by men. But then it started to bother me and when Mouch came into my life, everything changed. - It was a surprise that the Sergeant entrusted her with such private matters. She didn't really know why the older woman was telling her all this. - Look, Hailey, I'm not going to get you to confess to me, but I do want to tell you that if you want to talk to someone, and you don't necessarily want to tell Detective Chuckles, you know where to find me. - she assured Trudy.
Those words touched Hailey deeply. She closed her eyes and let out two deep breaths to calm herself. She wanted to tell Sergeant Platt the whole truth about what happened that day in that damn warehouse, but she was afraid that not only would she lose her job, but that Jay and the rest of the team would get in trouble, and she couldn't let that happen.
- Trudy, I appreciate your frowning at the truth, but I can handle it. - She turned her face towards the Sergeant. - But if something were to happen, or I wanted to talk, I know where to report. - she sent the woman a grateful smile.
- Okay - Trudy nodded, knowing she wouldn't convince Hailey to confide in her.
- Oh shit - Hailey looked at the clock hanging on the wall - I should send the documents to New York. - She stood up abruptly and without waiting for the Sergeant, she left the break room to meet Jay and Adam entering the bullpen at the same time.
- Do you guys have anything? - she immediately asked the men while crossing her arms over her chest.
- Nothing in particular. - Ruzek was the first to speak up.
- 'I don't understand how you can turn your back on your own kid,' snorted Jay as he dodged Hailey and sat down in his seat.
- What do you mean? - Hailey asked, looking at her boyfriend.
- Robertson was 15 when he first went to juvie and since then his parents had forgotten about him, and now they didn't even shed a single tear. Disbelieving. - Hailey could see that Jay was angry, at these people, and she wasn't surprised at all. She herself couldn't fathom why parents did so much evil to their children, it was incomprehensible. She walked over to Jay and put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it in a gesture of support. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, Hailey smiled slightly assuring Jay that she was fine and that she didn't need to worry, Jay returned the smile.
- 'What about Kevin? - Hailey asked, stepping slightly away from Jay.
- And with me, two pieces of information - as if on cue, Kevin appeared in the bullpen. - First of all - he went straight to the board and started to explain what he had found. - There are no drugs in our warehouses with that tag, nor any narcotics cop any dealer dealing the same amphetamine we found in that house.
- But? - spoke up Hailey sensing that Kevin was not telling all.
- But one of my informants heard some time ago that a big player had recently appeared in town, but he doesn't know who it is. He said as soon as he finds out something, he'll let you know.
- And that's all you've agreed on for five hours? - said a sergeant from the Homicide and Burglary department with a commanding tone, appearing out of nowhere together with his subordinate, who Hailey thinks looks at Jay too often.
- I don't understand? - said a visibly irritated Jay, standing next to Hailey.
- I mean, detective, that ...
- Sergeant, is there a problem? - unexpectedly in the room appeared Sergeant Voight and in truth Hailey, really tried, but she couldn't stop herself from violently drawing in air and instinctively moved closer to Jay.
- 'Your people haven't established anything for five hours,' Sergeant Smith explained in a smug voice. She felt Jay's muscles solidify and then felt his hand on her back, at which she instinctively moved even closer to him. She needed to feel the contact with his skin, to feel that he was there because that was the only way she could keep from giving in to the impending panic attack.
- Okay, Jay get all the information together and then you and Hailey will come to me - at that word I swallowed my saliva nervously and felt Jay clench his fists tighter. I stepped back so that my back was touching Jay's chest, to calm my nerves, to keep from being plunged into panic.
She wasn't ready to face their Sergeant yet.
- Sergeant Smith, welcome to my office. - and with that Voight entered his office, followed by the Sergeant from Homicide, to talk behind closed doors.
❁❁❁
- Adam go to the hospital and sit with Kim. - spoke up Jay after some time of work.
- What? - asked a surprised Adam.
- You stare at that phone for 30 minutes - said Hailey, turning towards him.
- Go Kim needs you - added Jay.
- Thank you - Adam started to pack his things and a moment later he was gone.
- You too - Jay turned to Kev.
- Thank you, but I will stay and help you. - protested the officer.
- Okay, whatever you want - replied Jay, shrugging his shoulders. - Hailey - Jay turned to his partner, who looked at him with a questioning expression on her face. - We've already sent everything to New York, and we'll probably have to wait a few hours for an answer anyway, so you can go home. - Come on. I'm not leaving you guys. - she said confidently.
- Hailey - Jay walked over to Hailey and sat down on her desk. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment and communicated only in their own way, without words.
- Jay, Hailey come to me - a grey-haired man leaned out of the office and Hailey regretted her decision to stay on District. Jay put a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder and whispered to her to go home after all, then got up and walked over to the Sergeant.
- Hailey has to do one thing with Kevin, so I'm going to have to suffice you myself,' Jay said in an unobjectionable voice. Hailey could see how angry he was and how hard he tried not to show it in front of her and Kevin, who completely didn't understand what was going on.
Hailey didn't want to go out and leave Jay alone, but on the other hand, she was afraid that she would lose control of her emotions as soon as the door closed behind her and the three of them stayed in that office.
- That's how one of my CIs spoke up, wanting to meet. - Kevin spoke up, trying to support his friends.
- 'Okay, go ahead - Voight spoke up after a moment, then walked into his office, followed by Jay, who closed the door behind him and sent her a smile to let her know that everything was okay. Hailey tried to smile as well, but for some reason she couldn't do it and a grimace came out.
- Come on, Hailey - she was pulled out of the shock she was in by the touch of a hand on her shoulder.
- Yes, I'm coming - she shook her head to get rid of unnecessary thoughts. She quickly gathered her things and a moment later she was already in Kevin's car.
She didn't want to talk and Kevin didn't press the issue, although Hailey could feel his worried look on her and knew he had a lot of questions. She laid her head against the glass and watched the passing streetlights. She closed her eyes and let a few tears run down her cheeks. She knew this was the first time Kevin had seen her like this, but she no longer had the strength to pretend to be strong, and she knew Kevin was one of those people she wasn't ashamed to show emotion around, and she also knew he wouldn't ask any questions if she wasn't comfortable. So now they were driving to her house and in silence, punctuated by street sounds.
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magicrowiswritingstuff · 4 years ago
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“Stars” - Din Djarin x gender-neutral!reader
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Summary: When you look up at the stars, these are the moments you miss him most.
Warning: sad thoughts? idk, can’t think of anything else
Category: hurt/comfort
Words: about 1.500
Note: This piece got... deeply personal. I wrote it when I was unable to fall asleep, thinking about everything that happen in my life in the past two years. It also ended up being very experimental too, sooo hope y'all will like it! Note 2: No use of (Y/N). And while reading through it I didn’t find anything regarding gender so this is tagged as gender-neutral! Hopefully I didn’t miss anything… if I did feel free to tell me so I can correct that.
_________________________________    
“Stars” – Din Djarin x gn!reader
It was one of those nights again. The rain, that had been pounding against the windows only minutes before, had reduced to a faint thumping now. But the normally so soothing sound just blended in with the hard beating of your heart against your ribs and menacingly echoed back in your mind. Louder and louder and louder, the longer you laid on your back and just stared up at the ceiling. Your mind was numb, your body heavy and stiff. You had been lying in bed like that for hours now, since the sun had settled. Already well before the storm had even started, the storm outside that had subsided by now. But the storm in your mind was still raging, fighting, clawing at the walls inside your head. The thunder was crying and screaming in your ears, shaking ever fiber in your being as it tried to break free. But the lightning kept your body rigid and pinned against the bed like arrows. Arrows lodged into your limbs and heart, burying itself deeper and deeper with every sharp breath you took. You couldn't find any rest.
Almost mechanically you sat up and swung your legs over the edge. With your hands on your knees, you stared at the floor. With your bare feet on the cold wooden floor, you just stared. You blinked. Blinked until your mind finally found its focus on reality again. There was no storm anymore, not outside and not in your mind. It was okay. You were okay. You nodded and stood up, tiptoeing to the front door. The moment the fresh air, soaked with the smell of nature, rich and strong and full of beauty just like it usually was after a storm, filled your lungs you finally woke up even though you hadn't really been sleeping for days. But your mind finally awoke after hours, days of just going through the motions. You stretched out your arms and felt the last few drops of rain hitting your skin as you sighed. The stone that had been attached to your heart for weeks now and had dragged it down into the depths of a dark and angry ocean, pushing you underneath the water, had gotten lighter. You felt like you could breathe again. You sat down on the edge of the porch, not caring that the wood was still wet from the heavy rain earlier and stared up at the sky. Most of it was still covered by dark clouds that were hanging just as threatening above your head as your thoughts. Thoughts that bubbled on the surface every now and then. Thoughts that kept pounding on the door, breaking down the door, always returning, always promising to be back. Thoughts you couldn't escape from. Thoughts as slow as the clouds but eventually moving on, revealing the light of the stars to you. You placed your elbows on your knees and put your head in your hands as you watched the stars. Such small points of concentrated light that were trapped in a seemingly eternal dance. Twisting and turning and swirling around each other viciously in a dance far too slow for your eyes to see, for your mind to understand. From your place on the wet, wooden porch they seemed almost stationary. They were beautiful. They were lonely. Thousand and thousand klicks apart, always dancing around each other, almost never meeting, never touching, never connecting. They were beautifully dancing with one another yet they were lonely. Lonely just like you. And whenever you looked up at the stars lighting up the dark night sky, were you reminded of that. Whenever you looked up at the stars you were reminded of him. In these moments, when you felt like the only witness of that tragic dance, did you miss him most. You missed him with every fiber of your being, with your whole heart that was longingly beating against your ribs. He was up there, traveling among the stars while you were down here. Patently waiting for a return, you could only hope for. Maybe he was dancing around you like the stars were around each other. Seemingly so near but not close enough to meet. You missed him. In these moments you would give anything to see him again. To watch the light of the sun reflect off his armor, almost blindingly bright and sharp and in such a dominant manner that just wasn't him. Not with you at least. He would never show it anyone else but you knew there was a soft core and heart beating full of love underneath that hard beskar. You knew it because you had felt it drum underneath your fingertips. You had felt the hidden skin littered with scars, some small and some big. You always felt the love in the way he moved with you, hands gently cupping your face, placed on your hips or tenderly wrapped around your middle. It never felt restricting. It always felt right. In his embrace you felt like you knew where you were supposed to be, what to do, who to be. All because you knew the man underneath the armor. His gentleness, his patience, his caring nature. You had seen the man without the armor. When you spoke the promise, when he exposed himself to you, when he finally revealed himself, you saw the warmth in his eyes. The fear of rejection carved into his furrowed brows. The nervousness of being seen in his lips that were pressed in a tight line. And whenever you looked up at the stars, were you reminded of that and so much more. And in these moments, you missed him most. You sighed and wiped away the tears that had silently began to roll down your cheeks. You hadn't even noticed when you had started crying, too lost in your thoughts. So, lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice the figure walking up to your right. A silent shadow creeping closer and closer. But you didn't feel the threat, you didn't feel the tingle on your skin that would have normally warned you. Because there was no threat. You still flinched when you heard the shadow clear his throat, your head snapping to your right. The moment your eyes landed on the shadow they grew round and large and your mouth fell open in shock, not believing this was real. But the only thing you could do was stare. "Riduur." His voice was a faint sigh. A soft, relieved tune echoing in your ears. Just how you remembered it. Just how you had longed for it for what felt like eternity. He was so close, only a heartbeat away, closer than the stars would ever get to be in their dance. All you would have to do was to stand up and run, bypass the distance. But your body was frozen. You had to be dreaming, right? You blinked, trying to decipher if you were hallucinating. But he was still standing there, fully dressed in beskar that reflected the light of the moons that had fought their way out of the clouds. It wasn't harsh this time, not like how the sunlight normally reflected off of him. It was a soft stream of silver, a small brook slowly filling up with water again in spring. Just as refreshing to your eyes and mind as it would be to step into the cold water of that brook. You weren't dreaming. "Din." Your voice wasn't as faint or soft as his had been. It was full of pent-up emotions that slowly but surely broke down the walls of your mind, spilling over the edge like a waterfall. Choked up and scared. But when he placed his hands on the sides of the helmet and removed it with such a haste, such a powerful longing, the fear and doubt disappeared. They were pushed underwater and out of sight. He let the helmet fall to the ground at the exact same moment you jumped up. And then you ran, finally bypassing the distance, finally ending the dance. He wasn't able to take even one single step forward, had only enough time to reach out, to catch one of your hands with his and pull you against him, to him. And the moment you touched the electricity shot through you with the force of a lightning. Your heart stuttered against your ribs as you crashed against him, finally meeting, finally touching, finally connecting in a fervent kiss.
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