#I had a series of rather unpleasant dreams last night

[sagevalleymusings]

You already know what people missed in Barbie, but I'm going to deep dive it anyway because these negative reviews are hilarious

Reading one-star reviews to the 2023 movie Barbie are genuinely hilarious. 

First and foremost, the male characters lacked any significant development. They were one-dimensional, bland, and existed primarily to either praise Barbie or act as obstacles for her to overcome. This reduction of male characters to supporting roles, devoid of any substance or complexity, was a disservice not only to the male characters themselves but also to the narrative as a whole.

Like, yes. That’s… that’s literally the point. You have correctly assessed the central criticism the movie is making about patriarchy. But you think it’s a bad thing because you haven’t realized it’s on purpose.

Mattel's CEO and corporate people started as a mockery of men having all the top positions in a company; as the movie goes, they're just there at the back of your mind, and it's an unpleasant experience because they did nothing after.

Like… yes! Mattel had to sign off on this movie. Their real-world attempts to control and influence the plot of Barbie would have been sitting as an unpleasant reminder in the back of the minds of the creators, even if they ultimately did nothing. The writers clearly responded to this pressure by just making it a part of the movie.

Overall, a movie that comes off strongly like the 2016 reboot of Ghostbusters; during which year, it was reviewed as being "stunning and brave" with the same misandry-esque storytelling (that time, replacing an all-male cast mind you).

This one is just funny. The rest of the review didn’t even seem that negative, and then there’s this, “I hated Ghostbusters specifically because it had women in it” dig that’s just… so telling on yourself.

More analysis after the cut. Stick around if you want to learn something ;-) 

I want to take a break from laughing at people with no understanding of subtlety and nuance to actually look at the film. I watched Barbie last night, and I thought it was great. There were a lot of relatable moments, as someone who grew up playing with dolls. The basic setting is that there is a world parallel to ours called Barbieland, which is essentially a kind of alternate dream universe, where beings in the universe are tied to and influenced by objects in the Real World. In theory, Barbieland cannot change without influence from the Real World, but if it does, it can have echoing ramifications in the Real World. That’s a setting you could do some interesting things with, and it does necessarily require some degree of surrealism. 

Surrealism was a post World War I art movement in Europe which sought to combine dreams and reality into something Andre Breton called a super reality. The irrational juxtaposition can be nonsensical, but is often used to attempt to heighten the real by contrasting it with the unreal. It is extremely relevant that it came out of Europe post “The Great War” because it is by nature a way to grapple with feelings which feel too great to express through realism. Much like Goya, when painting the Penninsular War, painted a Colossus trampling the countryside with no real acknowledgement of the harm being caused, surrealism taps into one’s feelings, to evoke the sense that the real causes, instead of simply portraying the real with accuracy. 

And I pause to explain this because Barbieland is a land of dreams. It is literally the surreal. By opening our movie with an unambiguously surreal portrayal of Victorian girls playing with baby dolls in an empty wasteland, then transitioning to the imagined Barbieland, our writers are sending a pointed message: nothing that happens in this movie should be taken literally.

That aside, the film’s scenario is disjointed, didactic, and literal. The duration of the movie is a series of speeches with every woke cliché.

Barbieland cannot be divorced from its origins. Rather than having been created organically, it was made - by men. While looking into the character/real person of Ruth Handler, I discovered that the name “Mattel” was created by combining the names of businessman Harold Mattson and Ruth’s husband Elliot. Ruth’s contributions are written out of history every time someone says “Mattel.”

Barbieland is ostensibly a matriarchy. Barbies are dolls made for girls, so the dolls are mostly girls. With the wave of second wave feminism, there was a desire to market to a more empowered type of girl. What does that look like to the men trying to come up with it? You give the dolls jobs. President Barbie, Nobel Prize Barbie, Construction Worker Barbie. Barbieland has all the trappings of a patriarchy, just with women in the gender of power instead of men. That may sound like it is therefore a matriarchy in that case, but in fact that’s not how that works. There have been real matriarchies in the world, and they don’t function the way that Barbieland functions. That Barbieland is a playhouse run by men with Barbies acting out their roles and Kens acting out the roles of women in an idyllic fantasy for the men creating them with the intent of producing a profit under patriarchal capitalism matters when analyzing this movie.

It's a long ramble about how matriarchy is perfect and patriarchy is stupid. I agree with the latter, but the execution is just awful. 

Having said that, Barbieland isn’t exactly a one-to-one to our world - it’s more like a “good old days” subversion of our world, with a specific focus on tradwife nostalgia. It’s reminiscent of 1950s “return to the home” propaganda post World War 2 - shows like Leave it to Beaver or I Love Lucy which re-emphasized to a generation of women that had been forced to enter the workforce that what they should be striving for was a husband and a home. 

In Barbieland, Kens can’t have jobs - they just stand around looking pretty, especially on the beach. Barbies have all the jobs. Also everyone owns their own homes. The aesthetic of friendly, white-washed suburbia is deeply ingrained in how everyone knows and likes their neighbors, even while 1990s multiculturalism bleeds in.  

now if we were sticking to an actual representation of Barbie Land we would also have a BEACH barbie just like we have Crystal Barbie and Ken or Great Shape Barbie and Ken or even Animal Lovin Barbie and Ken! This perception that Ken doesn’t have a REAL job is just untrue, in fact there is many Ken Careers including DOCTOR KEN!

There’s a point in the movie that I find is deeply profound actually. The Kens have taken over the Barbie dreamhouses, which prompts the question, “where do the Kens sleep?” Not only does Barbie not know, but the question is never answered. DO they sleep anywhere? 

I’m reminded of a real world parallel. Before women were allowed to work, where did they live? That might seem like a stupid question, because of course they lived somewhere, but the fact of the matter is that if you were not allowed to generate income, you could not afford a home. Girls lived with their fathers until they were married at which point they moved in with their husbands, because of course they had husbands by that point. Women didn’t have their own homes. Kens don’t have houses. In that context, the fact that Barbie continues to reject Ken to have a sleepover with other Barbies who all have their own homes takes on a much darker tone. Kens in Barbieland, much like women were in parts of the history of the Real World, are so subjugated in society that they literally don’t have access to food or shelter without relying on the other gender.

They even point out “oh where do the Kens sleep at? I have NO idea!” basically is saying they don’t have Kens contribute at all the Barbieland and all they are is dumb dressed up side pieces for the Barbies.

But I don’t think this metaphor of “patriarchy but the genders are swapped” is the only metaphor at play. After all, at some point, Barbie and Ken enter the Real World, and discover that the playacting they have been doing is literally a lie. In the Real World, patriarchy is the rule of law. Barbie is uncomfortable. Her playacting is called fascist. Meanwhile Ken is given access to any space he wants, even while having to realize that his experience - the way he was raised - means that he’s still missing critical components necessary to enter Real World patriarchy. He decides to bring patriarchy to the play world.

In our metaphor, it seems to me that this component of the movie is a direct criticism of radical feminism. The whole movie essentially speed runs the last sixty years of feminism. This also means that the metaphor becomes strained, as we maintain the plot through lines while changing the meaning, but I think it still functions well throughout. 

As the movie progresses, we reach the Kens want power in society movement, and they go way too far with it, choosing to place themselves in power with women being subjugated instead. There were separatists in second wave feminism that called for this move specifically, who argued that men were too violent to assume any position of power, and genuinely argued that a matriarchy should be instituted instead. 

I can see why someone experiencing power for the first time might believe this was the solution. Ken isn’t concerned about equality, not really. But he is concerned about the way his gender has been treated in this world, and he wants to bring other Kens out of their status as second class citizens. 

But Kendom isn’t better. Wanting to subjugate and oppress the people who were subjugating and oppressing you is an understandable reaction, and it’s the wrong one. The goal is equality, not retribution. 

Was Barbie's Director aiming at an anti men revenge film?  The film subjugated men; demeaning and objectifying them and labelling them as dumb and superfluous. They are so worth more than that and young men today struggle to find their place in a society trying to demonise them.

But by the end of the movie, the Kens haven’t gained equality. And in an extremely barbed line directed straight at the audience, our narrator says, “maybe one day they will be as represented on the Supreme Court as women are in the Real World.”

I do think it bears noting, though, that right now, in 2023, four out of the nine justices on the Supreme Court are women, which is just about fifty percent. We are achieving equality, we really are. The point isn’t that women have not achieved equality. The point is that that happened extremely slowly. There are four women on the Supreme Court today. Those four represent nearly 70% of the TOTAL number of women who have ever served on the Supreme Court. The first woman served on the Supreme Court 192 years into its existence.

I think there’s some relevant context here, then, that Barbieland, the imagined space created when playing with Barbies, has existed since 1959. Barbieland isn’t starting from nothing, since it is importing Real World values, but it has only existed for 64 years. If Barbieland operated on the same time scale that the United States did (which we know it doesn’t but let’s pretend) then men would see someone represented on the Barbieland Supreme Court in the Real World year of 2151.

In conclusion, "Barbie" is an unforgettable journey into a realm where men are vilified, female empowerment lacks subtlety, and any semblance of realism takes a backseat. 

There’s a lot more that I could say. There’s a lot more feelings I had about this movie. But I want to keep this to responding to the unintentionally hilarious critiques of this movie. It’s endlessly amusing to me that the primary critique of this movie seems over and over again to be “the movie accurately portrayed what it was trying to portray.”

The disconnect is one that I’ve seen in an increasing amount. Barbieland’s idyllic, “matriarchy is perfect” version is extremely bad. In the end, even the Barbies don’t want to return to that version of their world. Confronted with the degree to which they’d been subjugating their Kens up to this point, they now see at least in part how harmful that version was not only to the Kens, but to the Barbies too. 

But viewers can’t seem to understand that just because something is being portrayed on screen does not mean it is being condoned. 

Such an incredible steaming pile of liberal garbage that it almost seemed satirical. The supposed intention of the film was to empower women, but instead did nothing but tear down men. 

There’s one last thing I want to say before I sign off on this fun romp through Barbie’s one-star reviews, and it’s something I didn’t see very much critique of. 

Barbie is transgender. 

Barbie wanting to be human: A theme that starts with Barbie‘s interaction with an old lady and her observing other people. That motive disappears completely until the end, Barbie has no motivation to become human throughout the movie.

I think this is a metaphor that people just completely missed on. The only real critiques I saw on this part of the movie was that Barbie wanting to be human seemed like it came out of nowhere. And in some ways I’d agree that it was not as obvious as the rest of the movie was. But if you read that plot point through the lens of metaphor, it’s much more obvious.

Margot Robbie has gone on record saying that Barbie and Ken are sexless, and that therefore, they don’t really have sex drives. In a very literal way, Barbie’s existence highlights the difference between being socialized as a woman and being born as a female. But in Barbieland, there are no ‘women’ in any sense of the term. Barbie is not a human. She hasn’t been socialized the way human women have. Her gender literally isn’t ‘woman.’ It’s Barbie. And Barbies don’t have genitals. Midge was an embarrassment for Mattel in the Real World, and she’s also taboo in Barbieland, because she’s non-gender conforming to what that means for Barbies specifically. 

With that in mind, is it really true that this comes out of nowhere? I would argue no. In fact, I would argue it is the central conflict of the movie, because there is a specific gendered aspect of Stereotypical Barbie that she is not conforming to outside of Gloria’s influence. 

She doesn’t want to date Ken. They are dating, nominally, because that’s what Barbies and Kens do. But she won’t kiss him, and she won’t let him sleep over. And it’s made clear in the beginning scenes that this strain on their interactions existed before Gloria started imagining “Irrepressible Thoughts of Death Barbie.”

Barbie doesn’t want things to change. Perhaps that’s because she can only imagine a world where things change for the worse. Where she does let Ken sleep over. And there’s something deeply troubling to Barbie about that scenario. It simply isn’t part of the version of herself this Barbie wants to be. 

Barbies playact the real world. And an extremely common and expected aspect of the playacting is the relationships they have to Kens. And regardless of the fact that all Barbies and Kens are asexual because they literally don’t have sex drives, it does seem to be the case that there’s still a gendered aspect to Barbies and Kens that they both be heteroromantic. Ken certainly has feelings for Barbie. All of the Kens are seen exhibiting jealousy. None of the other Barbies are seen as unhappy in their interactions with Kens the way that Stereotypical Barbie is. 

She’s different. She can’t playact a relationship the way everyone else can. She needs it to be… real. So she becomes real. Ken does not come along, this was never about Ken.

But that process of becoming real, of becoming human… it does mean that her gender changes. It means her sex changes. Barbieland being surreal means that this can happen instantaneously, but I do think it’s intentional on the part of the writers that the very last page of feminism - after second wave feminism, after radical activism, after reactionary conservatism pushes radical activism to the fringes, after speedrunning the last 60 years of feminism, the very last form Barbie takes is queering the narrative. Barbie has a vagina now. And she’s very proud of it. And that’s feminist too actually. 

So yeah Barbie is transgender and Greta Gerwig said trans rights, and it’s extra funny that no one noticed because they were too busy being mad that the rest of the movie was effective storytelling actually.

#lgbt discourse #disk horse #queer #barbie #barbie 2023 #media analysis #barbie spoilers #spoilers #gender theory #it's less than 3000 words #this is a normal and fine length

[positivlyfocused]

How Dreams Offer The Best Solutions To People’s Problems

TLDR: A series of vivid, emotional dreams led to a deeply cathartic experience, resolving internal struggles with a sense of homecoming and fulfillment. This transformative journey left the writer feeling great and eager for more extraordinary living.

Wow. It’s 0736. I just woke feeling wonder. There’s a massive smile on my face. Happiness flows through me as well as a sense of powerful worthiness.

Worthiness is an important feeling. All my clients start out far from feeling worthy. A lack of worthiness plagues all of humanity. It’s complicated, but that unworthiness feeling explains all the drama humans create as a species and as individuals.

For me, however, my worthiness is growing by leaps and bounds. This morning offered yet another expansion of it. An expansion I am conscious of. And that consciousness, that awareness, is why I’m feeling wonder.

Here’s what happened.

Unpleasant is communication

Over the last few weeks, I noticed decisions I’ve made that resulted in less than desirable results. I won’t describe what the decisions were. That’s because I’d rather amplify vibrations associated with what’s having me feel wonder and worthiness. And focusing on the decisions will amplify that old momentum. 

Suffice it to say the decisions were ones I noticed brought me unpleasant manifestations. Looking from the outside, you might describe these manifestations as extremely minor. Not like my newest client, who yesterday got T-boned while driving her cat in her Tesla to the Vet. No, my unpleasant manifestations these days are minuscule compared to that.

But like all unpleasant manifestations, they came in a cluster. A cluster of increasingly intense events. That intensity cluster was good. It caught my attention. And in that, I could do something about what was unfolding. If we don’t see what’s happening, we can’t do anything about it. I’m so glad I can see what’s happening.

So last night, I made a different decision. I decided I wanted to change my trajectory. 

That’s what happened. But how it happened was extraordinary.

Leverage found in sleep

What happened all happened in dream state. While everyone dreams, hardly anyone understands what happens in that state. Even those who interpret dreams and those who do “dream therapy” likely don’t understand dreams. What’s happening in dreams is far more sophisticated than we know. And far more powerful.

What humans call dreams actually exist on many planes. These planes or dimensions are so numerous, the human brain can’t comprehend what’s happening. But our Broader Perspective, that larger part of us, understands it fully. What’s more, that part of us guides dream activity.

What we do while awake informs that activity. But dreams influence our waking experience in return. When a human can directly, deliberately use dream influence, life gets really interesting. For then we can use that influence to improve life experience.

That’s what happened last night.

It feels like it happened for me, instead of me making it happen. And that’s the yumminess of worthiness. Because everything that happens happens for us. In other words, we’re not making anything happen. We set our focus, then the Universe coordinates outcomes. Outcomes best fitting our focus or intention.

I got a direct experience of that last night. And, frankly, it feels AH-mazing seeing it unfold!

^^The “topography” of last night’s dream experience.

Proficiency produces powerful dream experience

I had three “segments” of dreams. The first came before my mid-night meditation. The second happened after that mediation. The third immediately followed the second. Several dreams comprised each segment. In total, I dreamed at least 15 dreams. All were extremely vivid and real, just like being awake. But the emotional “tone” or “flavor” of them was far more intense than waking reality.

Seth talks about senses we use in the dream state. Some correspond with our waking senses; seeing, hearing, etc. But some senses don’t correspond to waking senses. Perceiving through emotion is one of those. I can attest to the power of this sense. It feels absolutely intense. And whether it’s unpleasant emotion or pleasant emotion, it is that way…intense.

Which is why nightmares frighten us so.

In the first segment, I found myself in several different realities. I was in a suburb with houses, streets, sidewalks. But the place was nothing like waking reality. Where I was probably doesn’t even exist on this plane.

These first dreams all featured me making choices. While making them, I felt confused. I couldn’t decide what to choose. For example, I was in someone’s home. I was trying to choose a ball. The homeowner offered a variety from which to choose. There were many kinds of balls – basketballs, dodgeballs, etc. Some were old. Others were new. But, for some reason, I couldn’t choose.

On the way to that person’s home, I drove on a highway. While following traffic, I noticed I needed to follow the highway to the right. I didn’t do that though. Instead, I curved left. But I knew I wanted to go right!

Both of these are examples of me making decisions that resulted in unpleasant outcomes. You can see that they mimicked what I did while awake.

The set up continues

In the second segment, I walked through a dance club. To get there, I had to drive through an unfamiliar city at night. I parked my vehicle in the parking lot, then went inside. Inside, I met several unseemly youths. After those encounters, I decided to leave. But when I got outside, I noticed my vehicle was gone. I had just bought it. But then I realized my bad purchase decision: I bought a truck that was easy to steal.

Coaxing the youths to tell me who took it didn’t work. They took it, I knew, but they weren’t admitting it. At this point in the dream series I tried mightily to fix my decisions. Doing so got me feeling really intense negative emotion. Emotion that also was highly disempowering. It felt like despair, a wanting to give up. Highly uncharacteristic of me!

And this is another value of dream reality. It’s like a testing ground. It gives us experiences we won’t want in real life. There, we can experiment with them, and learn from them without having to live the dream “for real”.

I remember waking from the first segment feeling really clear those dreams were about my recent choices in waking reality. Waking from this second segment, it was clear how choices in the dream aligned with beliefs I have. Beliefs I’m wanting to change.

After that I went into the third segment. What happened next prompted this post.

Non sequiturs create resolution

In the third segment, I realized the purpose of this whole process. And the feeling I felt associated with that was extraordinary.

The dreams involved me being in the company of a beautiful being. I felt great comfort in their company. “Comfort” doesn’t do the feeling justice. Words can’t describe the power and pleasure of what I felt. We sat with others who watched a sporting event on television. I felt I belonged among these beings.

One of them, a female, stood before me. She had a beautiful body. Tattoos covered every inch of it. She said, without using any words, that she wanted to remove them. And that’s what she did. She peeled them away one by one with her fingers. As she did this, I felt something…a kind of release….

Then I was in an open area of low-lying buildings. My older brother stood beside me. Beneath our feet was a hand-woven rug of Middle Eastern origin. These fantastic planes flew above us. One after another passed over us and, as they did, I spoke to my brother in Farsi about how we can make use of this “campaign” to resolve differences between our country and others…

I know that doesn’t sound at all like the resolution I asked for. But you had to be there!

I’m including the major dreams only. Otherwise this post would be a TLDR experience. Suffice it to say, each one flowed one into the other with perfect cohesion. Still, I get they sound like non-sequiturs.

A perfect compendium of catharsis

The last dream I experienced before waking was the kicker. I stood in a shower. The shower wasn’t mine. Outside the shower window I heard children playing happily. Beside me, in the shower was a beautiful small-breasted woman. Her body was….nothing short of extraordinary. The water ran down both our bodies and all I remember besides what you just read was a feeling of HOME. It was a feeling of all being well, of release after climax, of ecstasy or completion.

Then a series of dreams happened that took this experience to a new level. It’s hard to describe exactly what happened. That’s because language doesn’t align with what happens in nonphysical. And the dream state happens in nonphysical.

Nevertheless the series involved me experiencing situations in which I “paused”. And in the pause, I did something that translated as resolving the process or beliefs or momentum that had me make decisions producing dissatisfying results. I knew that’s what happened, but it’s hard to make direct connection between what I saw and experienced in the dream and my translation of it.

All I can say is it was extremely cathartic. Especially after the climactic dream I experienced before that. 

This entire process was such a fulfilling experience! When I woke it was just before 0730 and I knew, I just knew, what I asked for had been resolved on my behalf.

How did I know?

^^The joyful catharsis I felt directly stemmed from my dream experience. (Photo by Omid Armin on Unsplash)

Emotions: Indications of expansion

Because I felt GREAT. But that’s not all. I also felt FOR SURE that what you just read happened. I recalled ALL OF IT. Including the emotions, the associations with wake state experience prior to going to bed…all of it.

Before I started writing this, I amplified everything you’re reading by affirming how great it feels. I affirmed this new day. A new day unburdened by old belief. I expressed appreciation for, and felt joy in the expressing, my expanded awareness. I also expressed how blessed I felt by my cadre — the innumerable beings in nonphysical that support every desire I create as a result of being human.

Re-reading all this, I’m in awe. It’s this kind of experience that gradually becomes available to all my advanced practice clients. I feel blessed to lead the way. The way to extraordinary living. It certainly feels extraordinary. And I’m eager for more.

Want to experience your expansion into the extraordinary? Become a client.

#positive thinking #positivevibes #spiritualawakening #positivity #spirituality #positivethinking #spiritual life #spiritualgrowth #happiness #dreams #lucid dreaming #dream interpretation

[spacecadetspe]

Oct. 1, 2023

Fortitude and I have been perusing Pinterest and Etsy, looking for jewelry and clothing that fit my new style. In the absence of emotional attachment to most of my current wardrobe, he found me sitting in my closet and staring up with a sense of puzzlement at the myriad clothes hanging there. What does my style say about me? I reflected that I very generally don't like how I look in business wear; how pants sit on my waist or how my dress shirts come un-tucked when I sit down, or how they generally look somewhat shapeless on me. I prefer the sensation of restricting clothing; compression as a sensory thing makes me feel stabilized and secure. Fortitude seems to think a dark academia aesthetic would suit me, and I don't disagree. It provides structure and a slimming effect, as well as portrays a strictness that I rather like.

I finally summoned my courage and gave a laconic reply to X. I was expecting some fallout, and was pleasantly surprised when I got an equally laconic reply. That being done, I went on to enjoy my son's birthday, which happens to be today. I will not be taking W back to his father earlier than 5, and I have no qualms about it, either. How wonderful, to have completely lost my capacity to give a damn!

I think, in the near future, I shall be adding earlier postings from LiveJournal and remarking on my progress from a future-me point of view. I'm certain I already sound crazy, so why not push the limit a bit?

Last night I went about the rounds, I think at least partially in the infirmary. I recall this because I stepped away to change into a pair of scrubs. I was unhappy with the dreamer I was working with; I had the slightly disgusted knowledge that he wanted a sexual favor from me, and was preparing myself for an unpleasant encounter.

Blessedly, the encounter never came. Another oneiros came into the room and turned on the lights, and began reorganizing the room. It seems the area was used primarily for staging dreams, so it had a series of dials that one could use to change the aesthetic of the room. The top dial could be turned by degrees and the wallpaper would rotate, like a more modern billboard. Red paper would become green silk with lotuses, or gold brocade... it was gorgeous. Not only that, but the domed ceiling could be made opaque or transparent, depending on how the area was lighted. It was a brilliant feat of engineering, and I felt myself become overwhelmed with gratitude for this place and these beings. It reminded me so strongly of my grandmother, who personalized things so cleverly that there was no question who they belonged to. And I... I belonged here.

I am constantly reminded how loved I am, and how much I am wanted here. I learn constantly here, and I get to flex my curiosity regularly. I am in love with this place.

[houseaegir]

What a great day to wake up and remember that Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann is fricken amazing

#Cockatoo.personal #/slides each of you $20 to go watch ttgl 🥺 #I had a series of rather unpleasant dreams last night #but Gurren Lagann featured very briefly in one of them #so what I’m taking away from those dreams is that it’s been too long since I gushed over gurren lagann #Instead of the persistent anxiety around my morning breakfast + meds routine rip

[ladyofpandemonium]

v. spirit in the wall

series masterlist | fic playlist ( coming soon! )

     The sky’s a gradient canvas of black and navy and pink and orange, its beauty only obstructed by silhouetted skyscrapers and Tokyo smog. It is still a sight—unlike you. The sky’s organized chaos; you’re pandemonium. Damp with sweat that beads on your person like liquid paranoia, restless, frantic—raw chaos.

     Whether it be day or night, it makes no difference because it won’t stop. You see the curse over and over and over again; it’s sent you reeling enough time for you to wish it would just kill you already. Except it’s been exorcised, as Principal Yaga tells you. After the unpleasant stop this morning—the same one that had left dents in your walls and shattered glass scattered amidst the apartment—you’d called the principal to confirm what became of the case. He’d told you it was completed in a rather confused tone. You don’t blame the man for his confusion; Gojo was on that case. The outcome is sealed.

     That truly perplexes you beyond measure because if the curse was exorcized, like Yaga informed you, then what is it doing in your apartment?

     By now, you’re huddled in your little corner in your bedroom like this is a horror movie and you’re the dumb heroine—only you’re not because you’ve tried to exorcize the ugly thing only for it to appear again. At this point, you might have convinced yourself you’re hallucinating thanks to the mission’s events but can cursed energy be hallucinated? You doubt that.

     For once, you wish another sorcerer was here in your stead—Nanami, Ino, even Satoru.

     So, when you feel the curse again, you just about lose your mind, throw your pride out the window and snatch your phone from the nightstand beside the bed, dialling the last number you’ve called with frantic breaths depressing your lungs. You don’t have time to contemplate if you’re insane because you think you will become just that if you don’t call for aid.

     The ringing from the phone is in tune with your heart as you bite your already bleeding, swollen bottom lip, practically praying for the phone to be answered. Both your silent prayers and the phone are answered and, while you’re on the verge of regretting your decision, you’re equally grateful for the sing-song “Y/N-chan!”.

     And then, as if Satoru’s voice is enough to scare it off, you don’t feel the curse anymore. It calms you, even if momentarily and about as much as a grain of rice, enough to realize that you were in the midst of practically begging him to come.

     “Hellooo!” Satoru’s voice crackles through again when you don’t respond. You stumble over your words shortly, then sigh and close your tired eyes. Perhaps you should’ve never made the call because you have no idea what to say.

     “The curse,” You ask, cracking your eyes open again, pulling your knees closer to your chest, “Did you exorcise it?”

     “Of course, I did! You’re welcome, by the way—”

     “Then, why is it here?”

     Satoru goes silent on the other end, a faint hum that your ears strain to hear replacing his voice. You don’t wait for him.

     “I-It was here last night, in my apartment. I brushed it off as a dream and then this morning it was here again and it’s just— it keeps coming back and I-I don’t—” You’re starting to talk too fast, stumbling over your words and grammar alike, breath stolen from your lungs again as the recollection drowns you in panic. “I don’t know what’s going on, Gojo. Yaga says you completed the mission, you say the same thing but then why’s it just here and then it goes away and it hasn’t tried to kill me but it should because it doesn’t make sense—”

     “Y/N.” It’s not a tone you’re accustomed to his voice wearing; calm and sober. If it’s the shock or realization of your own frenzied state, you can’t tell, but it silences you all the same and allows you to breathe again. Still, you don’t allow him more than a few moments of silence, “Can you come over?”

     Normally, it might’ve killed you to say this but you force it out of your mouth, “Please?”

     Satoru could have done it, called upon someone to go examine the situation for him, but the quake in your normally stern voice when you had called him forces him to your door. It isn’t that he hasn’t got work to do, he always does, but you aren’t one to call for his help. So, when you do, Satoru knows whatever the circumstance, it has you rattled enough to willingly call for him.

    As he waits for the elevator to carry him to your floor, Satoru thinks this might be the second time he’d overestimated someone’s ability to cope with a mission. He makes that assumption based on the fact that he wouldn’t have been able to hand Sukuna’s finger over to top brass had the curse not been irradicated. Regardless, he finds your apartment and presses the bell, already feeling the instability of your cursed energy. It’s like an erratic heartbeat graphed on the electrocardiogram. Though, it’s only your cursed energy. A little off but without even a residue of any other being.

    When you open the door, he finds you a mess. If he was wearing his shades, you might’ve seen him blink behind them but it’s not obvious behind the soft fabric of his blindfold.

    “Missed me already, I see.” He muses, smirking and nonchalant as ever as he strides into your apartment without you making any of your snarky remarks. He’s not one to miss the dent in the wall, the shattered glass and the dishevelled state of the apartment he remembered leaving pristine the night before.

    He doesn’t recall the curse being quite so exceptional at hiding its presence and, like you’d pointed out, it should’ve killed you instead of pulling disappearing acts. Though he says nothing, he knows he has to check on Megumi in a few hours should the boy fail to reach him first. His ward’s updated him on the situation with Sukuna’s finger via text earlier this afternoon.

    For another hour or two, Satoru lounges around your apartment but he truly cannot any longer. There’s been neither hide nor hair of the curse, no signs of its existence within your home save for the dent in your wall. So, after another fifteen minutes, he speaks, “You should see Shoko.”

    “I’m fine.” You retort from your seat across from him.

    His lips part, fingers mindlessly finding your television remote to turn the device off before he gets to his feet, “That thing is history, Y/N. I’ll take you to Shoko and she can figure out why you keep seeing the dead.”

    “Or it’s hiding from you.”

    Nonsensical is exactly what your claim sounds like. Even if it were hiding, Satoru would’ve sensed its presence from miles away given his Six Eyes.

    “It’s exorcised.” He reiterates, hands buried in his pockets as he strides closer and stares down at you through the blindfold. He then leans forward to level with you with an almost mocking grin, “You’re seeing things, Y/N-chan~”

    You grit your teeth, tears prickling your eyes because part of you believes him, believes that you’re just scared out of your mind and, maybe, insane. The other part, the one that despises Satoru Gojo, believes otherwise and it’s the same part that makes you seethe in white-hot fury over his mockery.

    “I’m not crazy!” You yell, a frustrated sob rips from your throat shortly after and, because he hears it, it makes you angrier. So furious, in fact, that you find the courage to push him away. You can’t do that because your palm meets his infinity. It’s an infinite, everlasting decrease in your hasty push to the point where it feels like you’ve stopped moving entirely. Forever you could reach and never find the satisfaction of pushing him away; it’s the same as your infinitesimal inability to match his power.

    Yes, he agitates you to no end, drives you to the brink of madness with his mockery, forces upon you the courage to act against him only to snatch it all away before you can even blink. That is what truly fuels the fire, the envy you constantly deny. It also forces more tears to brim your eyes and you can’t stand him anymore so you stand and turn away from him.

    “See yourself out, Gojo.”

    And you don’t wait for him to do it or speak before you march away towards your room and press the door shut behind you.

next chapter ( coming soon! )

previous chapter

fic taglist: @suhweetdreams​ @bloombb​ @jean-does-not-have-a-horseface​ @rainyrebelconnoisseur​ @that-one-geek221b​ (also my precious beta for this chapter)

#prose of pandemonium ( my writing ) #ephemeral | g. satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #fandom ( jujutsu kaisen )

[racheloveyunho]

Till death do us part - 3

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, smut, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2479

TW series:  Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain  a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug,  kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

TW chapter: reader got slapped, reader run away from home, abusive and manipulative father, swearing.

The beating of my heart quickened. For the past two years I had dreamed about him every night and now, I was finally able to see him again.

"San!" I shouted happily, finally looking back at the handsome boy. He smiled back at me but his expression became cold again as he stared at Jinyoung. My so-called husband let my wrist go and hardly swallowed his spit.

"Y-you! What are you doing here?"

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Chapter 3

"What? Do you know each other?" I looked up at San for an answer

"His father is a customer of mine. I worked for him a couple of times, right Mr Hwang?"

Jinyoung stepped back with fear written all over his face. He was afraid of San. I somehow understand his feeling, I knew too well how San could be intimidating.

"I wouldn't ever touch Y/N again if I were you." San said with the most cold voice I ever heard in my life "I get upset pretty easily and I can't think straight when anger come over me. I guess you can understand."

"Why are you protecting her, I don't understand!" My fiancé shouted with fear in his voice.

"Because she's mine."

I blushed madly at San's words. Hana squirmed like a fangirl and clapped her hands while making embarrassing noises. I wished she wasn't there at this moment, I was over embarrassed and she wasn't helping me AT ALL.

I hide my face behind my hands. I wasn't paying attention to the two men's conversation anymore until I felt San's grip lightly tightening around me.

I looked up, Jinyoung was gone without my noticing.

"Are you okay?" San whispered to my ear.

‘Does he have to look at me like that? He’s driving me crazy!’

"He left?" I asked.

San nodded before letting me go. Strangely enough, I felt a wave of sadness and disappointment from the loose of contact even though I couldn't say it out loud, San would probably think I'm crazy since I met him just twice.

Quickly, Hana went to my side, grabbing my arm and shaking it with all her strength.

"Are you THE San?" She asked San with her eyes sparkling.

The moment I saw San's smirk I wished I could have run away from here. I looked at Hana with wide eyes and whispered "Could you stop being obvious for God's sake!"

It was no help, Hana was too happy to finally meet the man I talked about every day and she wasn't paying attention to what I was saying "You are indeed handsome!" she exclaimed "Do you have a girlfriend?"

'Oh God.'

"I don't..." he paused "yet" San looked at me with his sharp eyes.

I turned back and hide my red face the best I could. I was not the kind of girl to turn shy easily but San had this effect on me, he made me feel weak in my knees and made my heart raced.

Meanwhile, Hana was the happiest in the world at this moment, she knew that I never was on a relationship before so she was surely excited to play cupid for the both of us.

After a quick chat, which boiled down to Hana asking questions about everything and nothing, San told us that he was going back to his work and had to leave. 

He walked away, but I followed him and with all the courage I could muster up, I grabbed his wrist to stop him. He looked back at me with a surprise expression.

"Can...Can you give me your phone number? It will be easier to see each other this way..." I looked straight at him, facing his usual strong gaze.

However, I wasn't as brave as I wanted to pretend and San wasn't dumb, my shaking hand grabbing his strong wrist was a clue enough for him to know how I really felt.

He smiled at me with a sincere and warm smile for the first time, his dimples in full display, before he gave me his hand. I looked at it, confused, and put my hand on his own.

"Not your hand, give me your phone. Don't you want my number anymore?" he laughed at my action and again, my face turned red.

"Yeah, sure!" I stuttered, giving him my phone. He quickly entered his number on it before giving it back to me.

"Let's talk more often then, Kim Y/N"

Hearing him saying my whole name was something special, a mysterious feeling grew inside of me but it wasn't an unpleasant one.

I waved my hand at him as he walked away, disappearing from my sight.

"I think I need holy water" Hana breathed out.

It was already 9 pm, the sun was giving way to the dark night where the moon reigned as a queen.

It had been a long day, a very long one.

I met Jinyoung, my unwanted fiancé, San helped me against him and Hana hadn't let me get home until I admitted that I had a crush on San.

It was weird to say it, I wasn't familiar with this new feeling. Was it love? Was it possible to feel love towards him already or was it just a physical attraction?

I threw my head on my pillow and yelled on it while shaking powerfully my legs on the bed.

Yes, San was handsome, but he wasn't just that. He had something that attracted me and I couldn't explain what. It was like he was the answer of all my doubts and all of my issues. He was strong and intimidating but at the same time soft and reassuring. The last time I’ve felt this safe in someone’s arms was in my mom’s.

Bip Bip.

I looked at the small screen, a small notification indicating me that I had a new message.

I jumped out of my bed and stood up, excited by just some few words.

San

"Did you get home safely?"

Me

Yes I did! I hope you got home without any issue too :)

No answer.

San didn't seem like the talkative type. I had to choose a topic to continue the conversation or else he wasn’t going to answer.

Me

So...How old are you exactly? Do you still live with your family?

To my surprise, San answered me right away and we both talked for a few hours, totally forgetting about sleep. He talked to me more than I initially thought he would and I was glad for it.

I found out that he lived with his father, mother and older sister in Seoul in a rather affluent neighborhood. He was the same age as me and told me he had always been home schooled so he had a lot of free time.

He was following his father's path and helped him with his work.

I didn't asked him about it but I could easily guess that his dad worked with politicians since he San and Jinyoung knew each other from his dad’s work.

After a three hours long talk, I finally fell asleep while writing a message to San.

San

Sleep tight Y/N.

I slowly opened my eyes when the warm morning light hit my face. It had been a long time since I last sleep that well. I stretched my body and directly texted San.

Me

Hello San! Sorry I fell asleep, I slept well, maybe thanks to all the things that happened yesterday lol!

I waited some minutes but he gave me no response. Was he still asleep?

I went downstairs and only found my father, eating alone. The table seemed bigger than usual without Jin there and I couldn’t help but think about my brother, I hadn't see him since the argument between him and my father and it was worrying me.

"Where is Jin?"

"I don't know where he is living now." My mouth opened at his statement. My unstable eyes were reading his face, trying to figure out and hoping that I heard things wrong.

"What do you mean? He lives here!" I shouted, my voice sounded less confident than usual.

My worry was growing at an incredible speed pace. I felt unwell for some reason and was afraid to understand the real meaning behind my father's word.

"Not anymore. He's an adult now, I no longer have any obligation to keep him home."

I couldn't believe what I was listening to. He kicked his own son out? How dared he?

I was about to shout out at him but his phone rang at the same moment. He took the call and started talking with an unknown correspondent.

His face quickly dropped and then glared at me with angry eyes. I gulped, unaware of the situation.

When he hung up, he angrily stood up and harshly slapped me on the face "What have you done!" he yelled.

My eyes were watering. He hurt me. It was the first time he laid a finger on me.

"Mr Hwang called me! His son, Jinyoung, met you yesterday and want now to end your engagement."

"It's for the best, I never wanted this anyways" I replied curtly.

He was about to slap me again but put down his arm and chuckled darkly "Fine, if you want to be a brat then I will treat you as one"

My father strongly grabbed my arm and dragged me to my bedroom, he was so angry and so harsh, he was, without any doubt, going to leave bruises on my body.

He threw me on the bed and took my phone with him.

"You won't be needing your phone anymore, I'm confiscating it. In the meantime, I want you to think about your behavior." he said "If you don't want to listen to me, then I will show you who is in charge here." he walked away "Ah, and just to say, this week you will took a plane and will go abroad to study." He informed me before locking the door and leaving me alone in my room.

"You can't do this! You can't force me to leave!!" I banged on the door fiercely. It was a nightmare, it couldn't be happening. I sat down, my back against the door and my head on my knees, silently crying. 

It was already late at night, I didn't do anything the whole day. The only thing I could do was crying.

I finally wiped my tears away and stood up, determined to leave this house. I took a small bag and filled it with some clothes, wallet and other essential stuffs. I waited until no more noise could be heard in the house and quietly leave the house through the windows.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it will be, I found myself a new talent that night.

I went to the bus station, it was too late so there was no bus anymore.

Shit

I walked to the nearest hotel and went to the reception.

"Excuse me, I broke my phone and I really need to call someone to pick me up to go home. Is it possible to use your phone?" I asked with puppy eyes.

The male receptionist fell right away for my charms and gave me his phone, glad to help a young girl in distress. I thanked him and called my brother.

I silently thanked my good memory and was glad I remembered all the numbers on my phone. "The person you have called is unavailable right now..." the voice announced.

“No way...” my shoulders fell from disappointment. I had no other choice but to let him a message on his phone.

"Hey Jin, it's me... Listen, I had some...problems with dad, he took my phone away so I don't have a lot of way to reach you. I heard that he kicked you out, I hope you did find a place to sleep, hope you're eating well, hope that..." I sniffed, not able to contain myself anymore. "I'm scared Jin, dad wants me to study abroad cause my fiancé brook our engagement. I picked some stuff and now I'm out of the house but I don't know where to go and..." my voice broke because of all the emotions I had inside of me. "I'll call Hana and see if I can sleep at her place or else I'll sleep in a hotel. I love you, I'll call you again tomorrow." I stopped the voicemail message.

This time I tried Hana's number, fortunately she was a phone addict so she would answer to my call. "Yes my love~?" I heard her sleepy voice "Hey Hana" I said, my voice still trembling "What happened? Are you okay?" Her voice suddenly turned serious.

I quickly summarized my situation to her. "Listen, sweetie. Tonight I can't come to you, you have still money right? Sleep in a hotel and tomorrow you will took the first bus and come to my house, okay?" I agreed and hung up before asking a room to the receptionist.

The hotel room was half smaller than mine but it was better than nothing. There was a phone on the side of the bed.

'Should I call San?' I wondered while looking at the phone. Without a second thought, I entered the number of San and waited.

"Hello?"

"San! You answered!" I shouted through the phone, happy to hear his voice "I...I'm sorry I..."

"Where are you?" he asked "What?" I answered, surprised.

"You are not fine, are you? You're voice isn't as clear as usual."

I waited a long moment, I couldn't control my tears as they were running down my cheeks.

"Where are you?" He insisted.

"Dongdaemun hotel, room 322"

"I'm coming. Don't move." his voice softened.

My wait didn't last 20 minutes until I heard a knock on the door. I jumped and opened the door as soon as I heard the sound.

Here it was, the silhouette I liked the most

"San..."

He hugged me tightly as if there was no tomorrow. I noticed how he was sweaty and out of breathe, probably from running to get to me faster.

I breathed in his unique scent, it was woody scent, something fresh but still manly. I felt safer with him, everything was easier when he was by my side. I didn't want to let him go and my feelings seemed mutual as he tightened his grip on my waist.

I was like a piece of metal attracted to a magnet.

We sat down on the bed and he let me cry my heart out, listening every word I had to say. I told him my story, my conflictual relationship with my father, how harsh he was with me and my brother since my mom passed away and my arranged wedding with this Hwang Jinyoung.

We talked for two good hours about my problems but also about the future we both wanted.

As time went on, I started to feel sleepy, my eyelids were heavy and my mind was cloudy. I slowly closed my eyes until I fell into a deep sleep into San's arms. He gently patted my head to help me fall asleep.

"Don't worry Y/N, I will protect you from now on."

San hummed a song before falling asleep by Y/N’s side.

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I hope you enjoy this story so far! In the next chapter, Y/N is going to make a choice for her future life so the story will truly start in the chapter 4.

Of course, I’m not encouraging anyone to run away from home, mostly if you are minor.

Thanks for reading! See you in the next chapter~

Tag list:

@hijirikaww @pinkchampagne2 @xduygu-arsx @joongiebug

#ateez #mafia kpop #ateez san #ateez scenario #san x reader #ateez x reader #choi san #choi san x reader #ateez imagine #choi san mafia au #ateez fluff #ateez angst #kpop au #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop series #ateez series #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #strangers to lovers

[whitesparrows97]

Cat’s Cradle – Part 4

Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Yoongi x Human!Reader/Min Yoongi x Reader (slight Namjoon x Reader)

Warnings: This whole series contains angst und explicit sexual content. Also I’m sorry but Namjoon is kind of a dick in this story.

Word Count: 7.4K

Note: Oooh, things are finally getting spicy in this chapter! Also this is the penultimate chapter; I feel kind of sad to end this series. Thanks again to everyone who left a feedback on the last chapter / chapters! Every feedback means a lot to me!

Previous / Next

A little later, when you were sitting at the small dining table in the kitchen, a pleasant silence lay over you. The only thing that could be heard were the forks scraping across the plates. One question was burning on your mind and you waited until Yoongi stood up and put the dishes into the sink to clean them. He had turned his back to you and you knew that you would never have dared to ask the question when his scrutinizing gaze lay on you. 

You cleared your throat once and Yoongi looked over his shoulder in surprise before he turned back to the dishes. “What happened to Seo-yeon?” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper and the running water of the faucet almost drowned out your voice. Yoongi’s feline ears turned towards you, and you knew he must have heard you.

Almost indifferently, Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. “She was getting too tiring, I told her it’s over between us.”

Your eyebrows shot up in amazement. You weren’t expecting that. “Oh, okay.” Oh, okay? Seriously? You cursed yourself with your rather lame comment.

“Why do you ask?” Oh, no, that’s exactly the question you were afraid he’d ask. Yeah, why exactly did you ask? Shouldn’t you not care if and with whom Yoongi shared his bed? You knew you should not. But that didn’t change the unpleasant tug in your heart when you thought that Yoongi was as close to someone else like you, scenting someone else like you.

You tried to put as much indifference in your voice as Yoongi did. “Oh, just because. I haven’t seen her for days, and she was here almost every day last week.” You examined an imaginary lint on your sweatpants that seemed to be particularly interesting. It became even more interesting when you saw out of the corner of your eye how Yoongi turned off the water and put the last plate on the rack next to the sink. 

Your heart was beating wildly as Yoongi bridged the few steps between you and suddenly crouched down in front of you. His dark eyes looked at you through his blonde hair and slightly hesitant he grabbed your hands which were playing nervously with each other. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “I am incredibly sorry for my behavior. I behaved like an asshole and I’m the reason you lost your job.”

You shook your head. “It’s not your fault–”

“Yes it is, Y/N,” he insisted. “The whole situation between us didn’t help us to really be ourselves. And I should not have been so offended by the comment you made.”

“I didn’t mean it,” it bubbled out of you immediately. “You know that, right?”

He nodded and smiled. “I know,” he smiled. He looked at you in silence for a moment before he sighed. “I’m sorry about Namjoon, too…”

You sighed too. “It’s okay, I figured he was cheating on me. I’m not completely stupid,” you added with a laugh. “And you also warned me about him from the beginning. But let’s not talk about him anymore.”

“Are you sure?” You nodded. “Are you really okay?”

A little laugh escaped you. “I think I’m better than I should be, actually.”

He joined in your little laugh before he looked at you seriously again. “I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up.” He got up and pressed a little kiss on your forehead before he straightened up completely. You sat there for a moment, stunned, staring at the back of his blond head. Even if it sounded strange, this gesture was much more intimate for you than the situation before when he had scented you. Because you knew that this action was only his human mind and will and had nothing to do with his animalistic drives.

Yoongi turned to you and you tried not to let anything show. “Is it okay if I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Laughter came out of you, but you couldn’t help it. “We haven’t done that since we left for college, Yoongi.” You didn’t know if you were imagining it, but you could have sworn that a slight pink glow spread to his cheeks. 

“Fine then,” he muttered and turned back. You quickly jumped up from your seat and grabbed his arm before he could disappear into his room. With big eyes he saw you smiling at him.

“Of course you can, Yoongi,” you quickly accepted his wish and the corners of his mouth twitched up for a moment before he put on an indifferent expression again. 

“Cool,” he said in a slightly deeper voice than usual and you couldn’t hold back your laughter. You raised your hand and brushed the hair out of his eyes so you could see him better.

“I can’t say no to my hybrid,” you said in a tender voice and a hand lingered for a moment on his cheek. When you looked into his dark eyes and felt your abdomen contract joyfully, you wondered if it had been a good decision to agree to his wish.

It wasn’t, you realized about eight hours later when your eyes blinked and you tried in confusion to perceive the outline of your room. But all you saw was darkness. The last shadows of your more than realistic dream slipped out of your grasp as you tried to remember it. You wanted to rub the sleep out of your eyes and only then you became aware of the position you were in. You had both hands buried in a t-shirt and your forehead was on a chest that moved up and down regularly.

Immediately your heart beat faster as you felt the hands on your lower back pressing you firmly against the man next to you. The fur on his tail tickled you slightly as it wrapped around your naked thighs. You moved your head slightly and your eyes widened as your gaze fell on the lower half of your body. Yoongi’s leg lay between yours and your heart pounded when you realized how high up it was.

You felt an uncomfortable wetness between your legs and your panties sticking to your core. Oh God, you had to get out of here. You were horrified for a second when you thought that your short sleeping pants had hopefully held everything of Yoongi’s sweatpants. You couldn’t endure the shame if some of your arousal would show on the black fabric of his pants. Another thought made you nervously slide back and forth in his arms. If Yoongi woke up, he would smell your excitement immediately. Then the mood between you would only get weird again. But a scrutinizing look up made you breathe a sigh of relief when you saw his closed eyelids and realized that he was still sleeping.

You had to take a shower as soon as possible and without waking Yoongi. With Yoongi’s strong grip, that seemed like an impossible task. The heat emanating from him made you sweat and was one more reason for you to want to take a shower as soon as possible. You gently pushed yourself against his chest with your hands and tried to push yourself away. Yoongi muttered something incomprehensible into your hair and you immediately stopped moving. Yoongi started to move and strengthened his grip around you. His thigh came in contact with your most intimate part and you couldn’t suppress the moaning which fortunately was muffled by his t-shirt. 

You whimpered softly as you felt the need to move your hips and finally get some friction on your clit. You had to get out of here, right now. Your abdomen was burning and screaming to be noticed as you carefully grabbed Yoongi’s tail and tried to release it from your thigh. The tip moved and waved back and forth briefly. You took the opportunity when his grip loosened a bit and freed your leg.

Yoongi was mumbling above you. Please don’t wake up, you thought as you watched his face. He squeezed his eyes tighter before he smacked his lips once and suddenly rolled over to the side. He had loosened the grip around your back so that you wouldn’t be dragged along with him. Your abdomen contracted as you briefly had the image in your mind of how you would lie on top of him. You quickly wiped this scenario from your mind. 

You were free, the only thing stopping you from sprinting into the bathroom was the blanket that had wrapped itself around you like a cocoon. You took one more deep breath before clammy fingers grabbed the fabric and pulled it away from under Yoongi’s arm. Inch by inch you worked your way forward and almost gave a cry of triumph when the cool air hit your body as you lifted the blanket. Carefully you rolled off Yoongi’s arm and stepped onto the cool wooden floor. The fresh air helped you put your thoughts in order and lift the haze from your mind.

Quietly you grabbed the sweatpants from the day before, a t-shirt and fresh panties; the most important thing as you noticed and grimaced when you felt the material of your panties sticking to you. On tiptoes you went into the bathroom and took a deep breath when the door behind you fell into the lock. You didn’t waste a second when you threw all your clothes into the washing basket and jumped into the shower.

You sighed when the hot water hit your body and just stood under the water stream. If only you had never agreed to Yoongi’s wish, you thought and began to wash your hair and wash the night’s residue off your body. You could guess what your dream had been about even if you couldn’t remember it. Your state in which you woke up spoke volumes.

You listened to the sound of the water a moment before you reached between your legs and your finger touched your clit. You didn’t want to risk Yoongi waking up and didn’t want to waste another second. Especially since your insides were almost trembling and wanted attention. 

With nimble fingers you started to circle your clit and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally felt the release you had been longing for since you woke up. With shaky legs you headed towards your orgasm and leaned against the wall with one hand to get some support. You bit your lip so that no sound fell over your lips. Even though Yoongi was still asleep, you didn’t want to risk anything. You trembled when you were on the verge of orgasm and felt your arousal mix with the water. It almost hurt, so quickly you climbed up the hill to your release. You were so near–

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard Yoongi’s voice on the other side of the door. You froze in your movement. No, no, no, that couldn’t be true. You almost sobbed as you felt your orgasm recede as you removed the pressure on your clit. “What would you like for breakfast?”

The hand you used to support yourself against the wall clenched in a fist. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your breathing down. “I don’t care,” you shouted back and heard how high your voice sounded. You listened for a moment but Yoongi didn’t reply. You let your shoulders droop as you washed off again and turned off the water. You wouldn’t risk it again even if your body was still on fire. 

A glance in the steamed up mirror showed you your flushed cheeks, but you attributed it to the temperature of the water before you went into the kitchen. Immediately the sweet smell of pancakes enveloped you and you closed your eyes with relish. “God, that smells heavenly, Yoongi,” you praised him as you entered the kitchen. 

Yoongi didn’t look up when you arrived and piled the small round pieces of dough on a plate next to the pan. He turned off the stove and put the pan aside before he looked up for the first time. The blood froze in your veins when you saw his gaze, but the moment was so brief that you weren’t sure if you had imagined it. He came the few steps towards you and pushed himself past you. “Would you like to set the table? I’ll take a quick shower,” he said, but before he disappeared from your sight you grabbed his wrist. He flinched almost imperceptibly.

“Are you all right?” you asked anxiously when you saw the red glow on his cheeks. 

He cleared his throat briefly and threw you a little smile. “Sure, I’ll be right back,” he promised you and released himself from your grip. You stood there for a moment, as if rooted to the spot and only the sound of the running shower released you from your rigidity. As you set the table and prepared some fruit to go with the pancakes, you wondered if you hadn’t been as careful as you’d hoped. Yoongi was obviously embarrassed by your behavior. At least you attributed it to that because you couldn’t think of any other reason.

Less than five minutes later, the two of you were sitting across from each other, having breakfast in silence. Unlike yesterday, an unpleasant pressure was upon you and you searched hard for topics, but your head was empty.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Did you sleep well?” he asked and took a sip of his coffee. You choked on a piece of pancake and had to suppress a cough. The blood shot up your cheeks and your eyes watered as you tried to get the food down your gullet. 

“Sorry,” you squawked as you took a sip of water to loosen the lump from your throat. 

“No problem,” Yoongi laughed. He laughed. You were more sure from second to second that he knew exactly what had happened the last hour and why you reacted the way you did. “Shall we watch a movie after this?”

Glad Yoongi changed the subject, you looked at him questioningly. “Don’t you have to go to work?” 

Yoongi shook his head and ate the last of his pancakes. “Took the week off.”

You raised one eyebrow. “Oh, just like that?” That wasn’t like Yoongi to take the week off for no reason. He got up, grabbed your empty plate and put it in the sink with his dishes. 

“I thought you might not want to be alone after all that’s happened these past few days,” he said casually and your eyes widened.

“Yoongi…,” you started but he stopped you with a gesture.

“Let’s not talk about it. So, what movie do you want to watch?” he dismissed the subject and pulled you by the hand towards the living room. When you agreed on a film a little later, you wrapped yourself in a blanket on the sofa. You could hardly concentrate on the pictures on the TV in front of you. The only thing you noticed was the heat that emanated from Yoongi and spilled over onto you. His shoulder touched yours lightly and with every laugh it gently rubbed yours. 

You didn’t know if it just seemed that way but you could swear that Yoongi had never smelled as good as today. His scent clouded your thoughts and not G-rated pictures inside your head made you forget everything else. You shifted back and forth on your seat when you felt dampness build up between your legs and wrapped the blanket a bit tighter around your body so Yoongi wouldn’t notice.

Still, he gave you a confused side glance. “You alright?” You nodded quickly but he didn’t seem to let go. “Are you cold? I can warm you up.” He leaned closer to you and clasped the blanket you were still clutching tightly.

“No!” you said louder than intended, and Yoongi recoiled. You stared at him with big eyes and for a moment, Yoongi stared at you silently. Then a dirty grin spread across his face.

“If you think the blanket will help me not to smell how turned on you are right now, then I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you,” he said in a low voice and you gasped for air. He raised one hand and stroked your cheek. The skin underneath flared up and became a shade darker. “But I suppose that’s partly my fault, but I just couldn’t resist interrupting you while you were in the shower.”

With eyes wide open you stared into his dark eyes, which were fixating you. “W-What do you mean?” you stuttered, hoping maybe he was joking.

He clicked his tongue and put his hands over yours, which almost painfully clawed into the fabric of the blanket. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He lifted his gaze again and, grinning, uncovered the small pointy canines, which were slightly longer than normal. “I’m a little disappointed that you chose to do it yourself rather than ask me.”

He grabbed your hands and before you knew what was happening, he tore the blanket from your hands. He threw it on the floor and his eyes fluttered briefly as he took a deep breath. A growl that sounded almost dog-like escaped his throat, sending a new wave of excitement to him. Faster than you could see, Yoongi suddenly lay above you and with a small scream, your head hit the armrest of the sofa. 

The hybrid was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how horny you are if that was all I could smell this morning? Your scent was everywhere,” he explained to you, spreading innocent kisses first on your cheek before moving further down towards your chin and neck. “The whole bedroom smelt of you and the bathroom as well.” He straightened up again to look you in the eye and observe your reaction to what he said next. “I must admit it was really hot when you rubbed your pussy on my thigh in your sleep.” Your breath got stuck in your throat as Yoongi bent down even closer and whispered the next part in your ear. “I almost came in my pants when I heard your moaning and whimpering.”

You couldn’t help it when you tried to close your legs and press them together to get some friction. But Yoongi clicked his tongue unpleasantly and pushed them further apart when he placed himself between them. “So what do you want to do, baby,” he asked you and his tail caressed your upper arm “The decision is yours.”

You looked at him wordlessly. Was this really happening? Or was it just another sex dream you had and would wake up in your bed any moment? 

Yoongi lowered his head and stroked his nose over the sensitive part of your neck and you had to sigh. “I need your words, baby,” he whispered before you felt his sharp teeth against your skin. You shivered and felt Yoongi grinning. He looked up and looked at you with raised eyebrows while waiting for an answer.

You nodded, shyly, while your heart was pounding up to your neck. Yoongi purred and came so close to you with his face that you closed your eyes. You felt the breath of his lips as they gently brushed yours. “I need words, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips.

If you stretched your head forward just an inch, your lips would lie on top of his, but you knew he would not initiate anything unless you answered his question. So you gathered your courage. “Yes, I want you, Yoongi,” you breathed and a millisecond later his lips pressed passionately on yours.

You moaned into the kiss as Yoongi lowered his hip and his erection hit your center. You didn’t think that Yoongi felt the same as you did. You embraced his hip with your legs and he released one hand from the armrest to grab one of your thighs. He pressed his cock right against your clothed opening and you opened your mouth. The loud moan was caught by Yoongi’s mouth, who took the opportunity to press his tongue into your mouth. He wrapped his tongue around yours and savored your taste before he ran his tongue along your teeth. 

Your abdomen pulsated and you rotated your hips against his. He stopped the kiss and growled before he looked at you. “Are you so crazy about my cock that you can barely hold it?”

You nodded like in a trance. “I want you inside me, I need you,” you admitted breathlessly and brushed the hair away from his face. Your hands remained in his hair for a moment before you brought them to Yoongi’s ears and gently scratched the base where the ears merged into his head. Yoongi squeezed his eyes together and purred briefly before releasing his grip around your thigh and grasping one wrist.

“Careful, Kitten,” he whispered and looked at you piercingly. “If you keep this up, I won’t be able to control myself.” The mere thought made your abdomen contract and you emitted an impatient sound. Yoongi looked down to where your hips met before he slowly looked up. “Does the thought turn you on that I’ll fuck you uninhibitedly until you can’t walk anymore?”

Your choked moan gave him answer enough and he showed his teeth before he let his hip snap against yours. You dropped your head to the side as you moaned, exposing your neck. Yoongi didn’t waste a second when he pressed his lips on it and started sucking. Your hands buried themselves in his hair again and gently pressed him harder against you. Your fingers played around the base of his ears and Yoongi moaned against your neck, sending a shiver down your body. 

Before you could say anything, you felt a hand making its way up your thigh. “Down,” he commanded muttering, tapping your thigh, before clasping your skin with his lips again. You released the hold around his hip and let your legs slide apart to give Yoongi better access. Slowly he untied the knot on your sweatpants which held them in place and looked up at you; a diabolical grin on his lips. He knew exactly how turned on you were and that you were waiting impatiently for him to finally touch you.

You sighed as he straightened up and came to a halt on his knees between your spread legs. He let his gaze glide over your already ruined body, starting at your reddened cheeks, over your lips, to your quickly rising chest. His gaze ended between your legs and he licked his lips. He reached into the fabric of your pants on both sides before he pulled the pants off your legs with a quick movement. He threw them on the floor and stroked your thighs almost tenderly with his fingers. But he paused just before he reached your center. 

Your whining was swallowed by his mouth, which pressed hard against yours. The kiss was rough and you moaned as he took your lower lip between his teeth. You felt his canines as they lightly pierced your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed him closer to you. He pushed out a short laugh before his lips embraced yours again. 

You raised your hips hoping to feel his cock between your legs but Yoongi pushed them back to the sofa with a firm push of his hand. “Not so impatient,” he murmured. You wanted to complain when you felt his hand move away but a second later it was between your legs. You moaned into the kiss as he gently ran his finger across your slit. He groaned as he moved over the soaked material of your panties and put some pressure on your clit.

You wriggled under his touch and Yoongi released his mouth from you. His gaze lingered briefly on your lips which were slightly open and reddened by his kisses. With a satisfied purr he grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and pushed the material upwards. Surprised, he looked up when he noticed that you were not wearing a bra. “Naughty girl,” he whispered and embraced one of your nipples with his mouth.

You moaned and pressed your upper body against his touch. His tongue circled your sensitive nipple and he began to suck. “Oh God, Yoongi, please don’t stop,” you moaned and pushed his head further towards your chest.

You cried out when you felt sharp teeth on your nipple, which gently nibbled at the sensitive part. Your legs slid even further apart as far as the sofa would allow and Yoongi brought his fingers back in contact with your clitoris. He now circled the other nipple with his tongue and gave the breast the same treatment as the other while his fingers pressed against your opening.

You released your grip from his hair and placed your fingers under the material of your panties. You tried to pull them down but Yoongi grabbed your wrists. With a lewd “pop” he released your nipple from his mouth and put some distance between you so he could look at you. The sight almost took your breath away when you saw his eyes almost black with desire.

“So you want my cock so bad, baby?” he whispered and you nodded eagerly. You grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and without protest, Yoongi let it slip over his head. Your gaze fell on his trained chest, on which some drops of sweat had already collected. Your gaze glided further down to the small trail of dark hair under his belly button, which made its way down and disappeared under his sweatpants. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his bushy tail swaying satisfied behind him.

You glanced briefly at Yoongi’s face as he watched you before you gathered your courage. You had always wanted to try it, but you knew how intimate the gesture was. That’s why you’ve always shied away from it. Carefully you brought your hands in contact with Yoongi’s hips and he lowered them a little so that you could reach them better. Your fingers moved backwards over his kidneys to the point where his tail met his body, just above the sweatpants. 

He dropped his head as you began to stroke the base of his tail and a loud purr escaped his throat. He pushed his hip towards you to get more of your touch, but now it was up to you to release your grip. He growled and raised his head to give you a sharp look. But you just grinned. “What’s wrong, Yoongi?” you asked ironically and with a raised eyebrow, but Yoongi just looked at you coldly.

“The laughter will be gone in a moment, baby,” Yoongi warned and you cried out in surprise when Yoongi suddenly tore the panties off your legs. A second later your t-shirt followed. With slightly shaky fingers he grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and had some trouble getting the knot open before he quickly pushed them off his hips. Your breath faltered as your gaze fell on his erection, which was more than clearly visible under the fabric of his underpants and created a remarkable tent. “You won’t have much more to say when my cock is buried so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to form a single sentence,” he promised you and also yanked his underpants off his hips. 

Your mouth watered when you saw the little drop of white liquid that had collected on the tip of his cock. As if by itself you raised your hand and stroked over it with your thumb. Yoongi moaned softly at the contact and when you brought your thumb to your mouth and pushed it in while looking deep into his eyes, it seemed as if he was holding his breath completely. You closed your eyes with relish as your tongue absorbed the drop of pre cum and tasted the slightly salty liquid. 

You removed your thumb from your mouth and smiled at Yoongi, who watched you with slightly open lips. “Fuck it” he said and attacked your lips again with his. He moaned into the kiss while he could still taste his cum on your tongue. Without warning he brought his cock in contact with your slit. His thick tip pressed lightly against your opening and you interrupted the kiss to catch your breath.

You watched him with a look between your bodies as he wrapped his cock so tightly that his knuckles were almost white. He moved his tip along your labia and spread your arousal on his cock. His tip was again at your opening and he looked up strained. It seemed to cost him every drop of his willpower not to penetrate you directly. “Do you think you can take my cock like that? Without any kind of preparation?”

You hesitated for a moment when you thought of his size, but when you felt how wet you were and how your abdomen contracted around emptiness, you nodded. You tilted your hips and felt his tip penetrate you without resistance. At the same time both of you moaned as he penetrated you and his cock stretched your inner walls open. “Baby,” Yoongi moaned as he pushed his cock all the way into you with one quick movement and his pelvis hit yours. “Fuck, you’re almost sucking me in,” he said breathlessly as your muscles contracted around his cock.

You wiggled your hips to let him know that you could no longer stand his standstill. “Please move, Yoongi,” you whispered as you brushed through his hair. 

Slowly he looked up and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met. “Think you can handle my dick?” In his eyes lay mischief and you rolled your eyes.

“If you don’t move, we’ll never find out,” you returned impatiently. Without another word, Yoongi pulled his cock out of you until only the tip of it was left inside you. He looked at you briefly before he penetrated you hard. You squeezed your eyes together and gritted your teeth as his cock almost split you in two. His pelvis crashed against yours and you knew you’d be bruised tomorrow, but the thought only turned you on more.

Yoongi picked up a steady pace and with every stroke his hip slapped against yours and pressed himself comfortably into your flesh. It was almost shameful how wet you were, which was more than clearly audible in the small living room. The only thing louder than that was your moaning, which followed after each thrust. The whole day and your interrupted orgasm in the shower made sure that you quickly reached the point where you had been interrupted before.

“God, baby, are you close?” Yoongi pushed out between his thrusts. You nodded, unable to formulate words and sentences. Yoongi lowered his head and his teeth brushed against your neck where your heart was throbbing loudly. “Come for me, kitten,” he whispered and at that moment, your release came upon you.

You squinted your eyes and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your abdomen twitched irregularly. Yoongi’s rigorous rhythm didn’t stop once and as you slowly came down from your orgasm, you wriggled under him. “Yoongi, too much,” you said as his cock almost unpleasantly touched your sensitive walls. Immediately he stopped moving and to your displeasure he started to pull his cock out of you. 

Your abdomen contracted around nothing when you saw his cock, which glistened from your wetness. Yoongi grabbed his shaft hard and started to stroke his hand up and down. His hand glided easily over his cock thanks to your moisture while he watched you lying underneath him breathing heavily. “Turn around,” he commanded and leaned back so that he sat on his knees. You drew in your legs and followed his command as you turned to your side. “On your knees,” he continued. You continued to turn and kneel down before leaning your upper body forward and resting your forearms on the armrest of the sofa. This position made sure that you were stretching your bottom towards him and he had a perfect view of your opening.

Faster than you could see, two hands were on your hips and Yoongi’s cock was at your opening but could not penetrate you without help because of the angle. “You almost look like a cat, the way you present yourself to me,” Yoongi said and his voice dripped with lust. “Do you want me to breed you, baby? Is that what you want?” He released one hand and grabbed his cock which he placed at your opening. You wiggled your ass to let it slide into you like the time before but Yoongi pulled back a few inches.

A second later his flat hand landed hard on your ass cheek. You moaned and let your forehead drop between your arms onto the armrest. “Behave, baby, or I’ll teach you a lesson.”

You bit your lips when the brief thought came to you to do just that as a jolt went through your body thinking of what Yoongi would do to you. His hand hit your naked skin again and the loud clapping and the slight burning sent shock waves through your body. You felt your arousal run out of you and dripping down your thighs. Yoongi seemed to notice it too and he laughed softly. “Oh you like that? Does the thought turn you on of me bending you over the armrest and spanking you so hard that you won’t be able to sit properly the next few days?”

You nodded and Yoongi’s hand slapped your ass hard again. You tried to press your legs together as your abdomen contracted painfully. Yoongi put his knee between your legs and forced you to spread them again. Without another word, he placed his cock back at your slit and pushed into you with a strong thrust. You cried out when his cock hit hard against your G-spot. 

“I warned you, baby,” Yoongi said behind you and grabbed your hips again. With every thrust, he pulled you against his hip and it was his firm grip alone that kept you from flying forward. 

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you brought out and tried to find support in the armrest. One of his arms wrapped around the middle of your body and before you knew what was happening he had brought you into an upright position. His bushy tail took the place of his arm and wrapped around your waist, across your belly. He pressed you against him with it and you were surprised for a moment how strong his tail was. The surprise did not last long though as Yoongi’s hand gently wrapped itself around your throat.

You gasped as he pressed ever so lightly and slightly cut off your air supply for a brief moment. The moment lasted only a second before he released the grip again, but he kept his hand on your neck. Your hands were looking for support when he picked up his pace again and you thought you were going to fall forward at any moment. He took your hand in his and brought it over your head to his head. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair and he moaned as he put his head on your shoulder. 

You moaned loudly as his tip hit your G-spot with almost every thrust because of the new position and abused it with his hard thrusts. His other hand, which was not on your neck, stroked your stomach and then reached between your legs. You cried out as he pressed your clitoris hard and began to circle it. 

“Yo-Yoongi,” you said and tilted your head to present him to your neck. “Mark me,” you brought out breathlessly and pressed yourself closer against him. His movements faltered for a moment before he exhaled a laugh. His fingers around your neck touched the spot where he would bury his teeth. 

“You want me to mark you, huh?” He stroked the spot once more before his grip wrapped around your throat again. “Not today,” he whispered into your ear and quickened his pace once more. The finger on your clitoris bordered on painful and yet it kept sending you further and further towards your orgasm. “Come for me, kitten, so I can breed you,” Yoongi whispered and sent you over the edge.

Your breath faltered when you saw black dots and the hot excitement washed over you. Your muscles, which clenched around Yoongi’s cock, made sure that he followed a few seconds later. His movements became less precise as he penetrated deep into you and a few thrusts later shot his sperm deep into you. You moaned as you felt it hit your walls. It hardly seemed to stop as he pumped every last drop into you with a groan. 

Used up he let himself fall on you and under his weight you collapsed as well. For a moment you just lay there and despite his weight it was not unpleasant. You saw his tail, which lay joyfully next to your face and swayed back and forth. You felt Yoongi’s cock relax inside you and his sperm run out of you. This seemed to bring him back to reality as he pushed off on the palms of his hands and slipped out of you completely as he straightened up. He reached under the coffee table and pulled out a handkerchief. Carefully he brought the material between your legs and you flinched slightly.

“Sorry, baby,” Yoongi said gently and began to clean you up. He reached for the handkerchiefs again and you had to laugh as more dripped out of you. 

“How much did you shoot into me?” you asked smiling and looked over your shoulder at Yoongi. You saw a pink glow over his cheeks but decided not to tease him about it. He seemed to find the situation more than embarrassing. Yoongi didn’t seem to have an answer to that either because he was only silently cleaning up the mess he had made. When he finished, he threw the dirty handkerchiefs on the floor.

You turned back on your back with aching bones and Yoongi handed you your panties and t-shirt. Thankfully you took it from him and let your gaze glide over his naked body one last time before he got dressed. You flinched slightly as you put on the panties and the fabric hit your sore core. Yoongi sat down back to you on the sofa when he had put on his shirt and underpants and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Sorry I was a little rough.” He looked at you slightly nervous, but you pressed your lips gently against his. At once he seemed to relax.

“That’s the last thing you need to apologize for,” you admitted with a laugh. 

Yoongi smiled as well but it vanished quickly when something was obviously still burning on his mind. “I didn’t mean that with the impregnation,” he said softly and looked at his intertwined hands. The redness made its way across his cheeks to his neck and you had to suppress a laugh. 

You reached under his chin and lifted it up so he would look at you. There was uncertainty in his eyes, maybe even some fear that you didn’t accept this side of him or even found it repulsive. If the exact opposite was true. “Babe,” you said softly and his eyes lit up at the nickname, “you don’t know how hot that was.”

His eyes narrowed as you spoke and he looked more catlike than ever as his gaze patterned your facial expressions to judge how serious you were. A grin spread out and the uncertainty in his gaze had disappeared as he approached you and surrounded your lips with a tender kiss. You sighed as he parted from you far too quickly. He leaned against the armrest on the other side of the sofa and patted once on the space between his legs. 

More than willingly you bridged the distance between you and made yourself comfortable between his legs. You leaned your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around the middle of your body. He put his head on your shoulder and took a deep breath. A satisfied humming made you turn your head slightly. “What is it?”

He shook his head, but you insisted on an answer. He rubbed his cheek against yours as he muttered contentedly, “You finally smell of me, my scent is practically stuck to you.” The last part he said almost shyly, but you snuggled up closer. 

“Good, then every hybrid knows I belong to you,” you said contentedly. You heard Yoongi drawing in the air behind you.

“Are you serious?” he asked and his voice sounded hopeful. “Even when you told me to mark you…”

You remembered with a smile and nodded slightly. “Of course, I wouldn’t have said it otherwise. I know it’s not a thing to say lightly.”

Yoongi didn’t reply but just pressed his head back to yours and drew small circles on your belly where the T-shirt had slipped up a little. You just lay there silently for a while and enjoyed each other’s presence. You listened to his regular breaths and closed your eyes. It wasn’t long before you almost drifted off into a dreamy slumber. But you were torn back from it when you felt Yoongi’s tail against your bare thigh. 

You opened one eye first, then the other as you watched Yoongi’s tail make its way upwards from your thigh. The tip of his tail stroked over your panties and you couldn’t hide the grin. The fur tickled you slightly as it slipped between your legs and your hips twitched slightly upwards. “Still not satisfied?” Yoongi murmured at your throat but you heard the grin in his voice. “That’s not acceptable, I can’t let that happen, that my human isn’t completely satisfied,” he said more to himself and brushed along the waistband of your panties with his fingers.

You let your head roll against his chest as he pushed the fabric of them aside and stroked your labia. “You’re so wet again,” Yoongi whispered above you. “Your smell is driving me almost crazy, you know that?” His finger played around your opening just before he pushed into you. You sighed as his fingertip searched for the little rough spot inside you and found it with a curl of his finger “So tight and wet, even though I almost fucked the soul out of your body just now,” he continued to speak and your abdomen tightened tightly at his words. 

He pulled his finger slightly out of you and the next time he penetrated you with two fingers. The slight stretching made you moan softly and you let your legs slide further apart. He curled both fingers and hit your G-spot. He relaxed his fingers again before making the same movement again. You could hear how wet you were and you knew that if Yoongi continued with this movement for much longer, you would probably never get the stains out of the couch again. But the feeling that spread inside you kept you from stopping Yoongi. He knew what he was doing when he buried his fingers deep inside you in quick “come here” movements. 

A loud ringing that echoed through the apartment made you both flinch. You moaned, but this time for a different reason when you grabbed Yoongi’s wrist and he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of you. With shaky legs you stood up and pushed your panties back into place while reaching for your sweatpants. 

“Baby,” Yoongi’s voice made you look up as you pulled the pants over your legs. “Hurry up,” he said, wrapping his mouth around his two fingers where you could see your arousal shining more than clearly. You had to suppress a moan as you took quick steps towards the door. You pressed the buzzer and opened the door when you heard footsteps outside the apartment door. You had expected a postman to bring you a package. So you froze in shock when none other than Kim Namjoon stood on your doormat and had the audacity to grin at you.

_______________________

Tag list:

@flowersgirl02​ @lovelikeyouwant @yoongisabby​ @maryelixabeth

#yoongi x reader #cat hybrid!yoongi #hybrid!yoongi x reader #bts smut #bts hybrid au #hybrid yoongi x reader #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #cat’s cradle

[haileyyanneupton]

🍷drunk🍷

HAILEY UPTON X JAY HALSTEAD

UPSTEAD AU ONESHOT

masterlist | series masterlist

prompt: you’re drunk and walked into the wrong apartment and fell asleep on my couch. oh god, you’re going to be so confused in the morning

Hailey wasn’t one to drink more than a beer or two when she was out at a bar, but tonight she was alone, kind of sad, and ready to forget the events of the last few days. She had just broken it off with her boyfriend who of course refused to leave the apartment that they had been splitting the rent on for the last two years, leaving her somewhat stranded. Working out where she was going to sleep tonight sounded like a problem for future Hailey as she made her way into the bar and planted herself on a barstool, calling for a glass of whiskey as she took a swig from it and the liquid burned on the way down. One whiskey turned into six and eventually, Hailey was wandering the streets trying to work out exactly where her best friend Vanessa’s apartment was. Was it smart? No. But what other choice did she have?

Eventually, she made her way to what she was sure was Vanessa’s apartment, pulling a bobby pin from her hair to pick the woman’s lock. Somehow, even in her inebriated state, she still managed to successfully work out how to get inside, having enough sense to re-lock the door before collapsing on the couch. She was tired and she knew Vanessa wouldn’t mind once she learned about what her asshole ex had done; he wouldn’t even let her go back to get her things. Hailey was just trying to forget about him and go to sleep for the night as she collapsed onto the couch.

Jay had been asleep in his bed when he heard the squeaking of his front door and light footsteps on the floorboards of his second level apartment. At first he thought that it was his imagination, though his paranoia still got the best of him as he searched for an object he would be able to use to defend himself with. Slowly but surely, he tiptoed his way to his bedroom door and allowed it to swing open just wide enough for him to see the rest of his apartment in full view, his brows falling into a puzzled v shape.

On his couch was a blonde haired woman, her beauty still preserved in her semi-comatose state as she slept softly.

Jay couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. So, he wasn’t imagining things, but it was suddenly very, very clear to him that he was under no threat — despite the fact that she had totally committed a felony by breaking into his apartment. Sighing lightly in relief, he scurried back to shove the baseball bad he had been holding in his hands back underneath his bed and pulled one of the blankets from his bed, draping it over his arm as he headed out to his living room where the woman was sleeping. Her eyes — though they were closed — looked slightly puffy as though she had been crying, leaving Jay to frown sadly; he had always been deeply empathetic — the sight of anybody else being sad tugged at his heartstrings every time.

Ensuring he was as quiet and gentle as he possibly could be, he threw the blanket hanging from his arm over the woman and lifted her head up ever so slightly to slide a pillow beneath it, the smell of alcohol helping him put the pieces together as he frowned yet again — he was sure she was going to be so confused and probably even a bit frightened when she eventually woke up in the morning. Racking his brain for an idea as to how he could soften the blow for the woman when she awoke from her peaceful slumber, he went over to where his makeshift office was and pulled a piece of paper and a pen from his drawer, jotting down a quick note and leaving it on the coffee table before retiring back to his bed for the night.

🍷🍷🍷🍷

As Hailey blinked her eyes open the next morning, three things happened one after another another like a chain reaction.

First was the realisation of everything that happened in the last twenty four hours. The breakup with her boyfriend, the whole 'drinking her body weight in whiskey’ situation, and the whole 'having to crash at Vanessa’s apartment’ thing. She groaned as (most) of her memories flooded back to her.

Next was the realisation that she actually wasn’t in Vanessa’s apartment at all. The walls weren’t the same shade of white as Vanessa’s were, the couch was a black leather rather than the bright red one that her best friend had, and she was sure that Vanessa hadn’t suddenly changed the entire layout of her apartment. Sitting up, she took in her surroundings with a sense of panic washing over her as she spotted the piece of paper sitting on the coffee table, addressed in a way that inadvertently bought a smile to her lips.

To the really pretty girl asleep on my couch,

I know you’re probably really freaked out right now, but let me explain.

My name is Jay, and when you read this I’m probably hiding in my bedroom so that I don’t scare you. But anyway, you picked my lock last night and crashed on my couch. I don’t know who you are but you looked kind of sad and I could tell you probably had a few drinks, so I just put a blanket over you to keep you warm and figured it was lucky you picked the lock of the guy who finds this kind of hilarious rather than the guy next door who either would have shot first and asked questions later or the guy downstairs who calls the cops every time someone knocks at his door.

If you want to come and say hi or whatever, just come knock on my door. I’ll be awake. Unless you’re up before 8am, which I figure is pretty unlikely.

Anyway.

If you want to come say hi, come to my bedroom door. If you want to escape and pretend this never happened, that’s cool too. Completely up to you.

I hope this isn’t creepy or anything. I just thought that you were probably safer here in my apartment than wandering the street during the night which is why I let you be.

Sincerely, Guy-who-is-trying-to-do-the-right-thing-here (also known as Jay).

Finally, the third thing happened. The regret and embarrassment came washing over Hailey like a wave as she fell back onto the pillow behind her head, gluing her eyes closed as she let out a huff. This could not be happening. It had to be a dream, right? How could so many unpleasant things happen in such a short amount of time?

Hailey was just about ready to get up and scurry out of the apartment with her tail between her legs when she glanced back down to the note that the owner of the apartment — Jay — had left her. He seemed like a nice guy, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if she didn’t at least offer up a thank you. The silence in the apartment echoed through her head, the tension on her side of the door evident as she carefully peeled the blanket off of her legs and folded it up neatly, placing it down on the end of the couch. Every move she made was methodically planned out and meticulously executed — for what, she didn’t know.

She had always been the brave one. The first one to step up to a challenge no matter how big or small, the first one to speak up and be completely unapologetic about it, too. It wasn’t at all like Hailey to be standing there the way she was, pacing back and forth slightly as her fingers drummed against her thigh, yet here she was. In a stranger’s apartment. After literally committing a crime while blind drunk and now having one of the worst hangovers she’s ever experienced (which, by the way, she was sure was only being worsened by the the previous facts).

Forcing herself to muster up the courage, Hailey marched herself over to the bedroom door and knocked twice, immediately feeling her heart drop as every inch of her body wanted to bolt. Still, she kept her feet planted on the spot as she and the man behind the door suddenly came face to face. Hailey felt the wind being knocked out of her, their eyes meeting at the same time that she attempted to force out a million words.

“I am so, so sorry,” she said quickly, not giving the man a chance to respond as he instead stared at her with a lopsided smirk. Hailey was so in her own head that she hadn’t even gotten the chance to appreciate how remarkably attractive the man was, instead jumping to her own explanation. “I was drunk and I thought this was my best friends apartment. I didn’t have anywhere else to go because my asshole ex-boyfriend has decided to claim the apartment that I pay rent on and I just collapsed on the couch and I am —“

“Okay, breathe,” Jay smirked lightly, finding amusement in the woman’s rambling. “You don’t need to apologise — it’s cool. How about we start with a name, huh? I’m Jay, but. . . you already know that.”

“Hailey,” the woman answered. “My name is Hailey. Although you can refer to me as idiot, felon, dumbass, or all of the above if you so wish.”

Jay chuckled lightly — she was funny. He hadn’t expected that, though he wasn’t sure why. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll stick with Hailey.”

Hailey gave a halfhearted smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Anyway — I just wanted to say thank you. I’ll get out of your apartment now, and I swear you’ll never see me again or —“

“Wait, you don’t have to rush out if you don’t want to,” Jay’s words came off cooler than what they felt like for him. Internally he was screaming for her to stay, partly because she was even more beautiful now that she was awake and he just wanted to stare at her forever even though he knew absolutely nothing about her. She was intriguing — that lured the man in as if he was a sailor being called to an echoing siren, soft and smooth yet piercing too, all at the same time. “Do you want something to eat? What about some Advil, or I could drive you to your friend’s place — better yet I’ll go and kick your asshole ex out of the apartment.”

The blonde-haired woman chuckled lightly. “No, no, it’s okay. Would I. . . uh. . . would I be able to wash my face in your bathroom really quick, please? I won’t be long, I just — I normally take a shower in the mornings and —"

“Oh, you can totally take a shower!” Jay said incredulously, opening up his door wide enough for the girl to come into his bedroom as he pointed towards the ensuite bathroom a few steps away.

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“I can pull something out of the closet!”

Hailey smiled gratefully up at the man as she thanked him, heading to the bathroom as Jay laid out an oversized hoodie and a pair of track pants on the bed. Heading out to the kitchen, Jay figured starting on something resembling breakfast was a good idea, even if the very pretty girl in his apartment wasn’t going to have anything. The sound of the shower running in the background mixed in with the sizzling of eggs on the frypan that Jay had probably only used enough times for him to count on one hand as he stirred them around, grabbing out two plates before splitting what he had made in half.

With her perfect timing, just as Jay placed down the plate on a small table by one of the only windows in his apartment, Hailey reemerged from the bedroom. The hoodie he had left for her hung down to her knees and the sweatpants she had on were at least two sizes too big, but even with her dripping wet locks and bare face, she was just as beautiful as ever.

“I — uh — I made eggs.” Jay stumbled across his words as he gestured towards the plate. “I hope I’m not overstepping or anything. I just thought that since I was making some already for myself. . .”

“You’re not overstepping,” Hailey smiled gently, his hesitation bringing a chuckle to escape her lips. “I was just naked in your apartment — I feel like this is probably acceptable, regardless of how I got here. I learned how to pick locks when I was like, fourteen and let’s just say I’ve used it way more times than I care to admit.”

Jay let out a laugh as Hailey sat down, the two deciding to become acquainted with one another. She learned that he was a doctor for Veteran’s Affairs while she was a social worker working out of children’s services — she hadn’t exactly pegged him for the doctor type, what with his unbelievably good looks (that she was now able to appreciate) and all. Hailey listened intently as he told stories of his time overseas from when he himself had served, and although she could see the slight pain on his features as he recalled some of those memories, there was something about Hailey that allowed him to speak his mind to her without any inhibitions. He had never experienced anything like it.

Before they knew it, hours had passed. Hours of them spilling their guts about the most insignificant things that made up who each of them who they were. Hours spilling their guts about the tiniest details that neither of them would ever forget.

“Thank you again, Jay.” Hailey stood at the door, her clothes from the night before sitting in a plastic bag that Jay had offered the woman as they said their goodbyes. “You’re a really good guy. I’m glad I broke into your apartment.”

Jay couldn’t help but laugh, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants as his eyes cast downwards, nervous in anticipation. “I was thinking. . . “

“Mmm?”

“Uhm — Listen, Hailey . . .  I really had a good time talking to you over breakfast. Would you maybe — uh — you don’t have to say yes but — maybe you’d want to do it again? I know this pizza shop — Bartoli’s — they have the best deep dish in town.”

Hailey’s lips curled upwards — she thought he’d never ask.

“You know what, Jay? I think I’d like that. I think I’d like that a lot."

@lissethsrojas​ | @justanotheronechicagofan​ | @juu-series​ | @agnesgranberg97​ | @anna-justice​ | @puckluck28​ | @thetwit​ | @detective-buttercup​ 

thank you to @ruzek-halstead​ for editing and proofreading! 🥰

(i just used the tags from one of my other oneshots bc it’s usually the same people who wanna be tagged 🥰)

#chicago pd #one chicago #au #hailey upton #jay halstead #vanessa rojas #upstead

[watarigarasu]

October 31st – Ghost Stories

13 Days of Spooky Writing Event

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Word count: 2,379

Warnings: None

Author’s note: Modern!AU. My last story for the event is also the longest, I hope you enjoy it! Participating was a lot of fun, thank you so much for running it, Jessica, I look forward doing more events in the future! <3

You were never particularly fond of the centuries-old manor you used to live in with your fiancé. No amount of splendid decorations nor modern architectural solutions could stop the overwhelming feeling of being constantly watched, of every single of your steps being followed, of the shadows disappearing in the corner of your eyes whenever you were trying to catch them.

It was odd, considering the fact that Thranduil seemed to not notice any of those things, no ill energy, no suspicious rustles in the middle of the night coming from the floor below your bedroom, nothing strange. He was never the man you would consider as insensitive, on the contrary, under the cold mask of calculation there was a compassionate soul, the one you fell in love in many years ago. It did not took a lot of time for him to ask you to live in his house together—the great, luxurious mansion appearing to you like some kind of untouchable dream. And yet, there you were, sleeping in the soft embrace of the man you loved, in the place people could only dream of.

With the invisible eyes watching your every step.

“Is something bothering you, my love?” Thranduil asked one day, stroking your hair in a caring manner as your cheek rested upon his chest, the book still open in his hand. “You seem tense.”

At first you said nothing. It was the beginning of a wonderful, sunny day, the leaves of a maple tree behind your bedroom’s window shining brightly in gold and orange, the smell of tea and coffee prepared by the cook downstairs reaching your senses and causing your stomach to grumble in need. It was supposed to be your Saturday, the day where none of you were supposed to work and simply enjoy your time together.

If only not for the dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered and played with a long strand of his platinum hair, twirling it over your finger. “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

“I understand.” You felt his chest throb when he spoke and then the Adam’s apple to move when he swallowed. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Bad feeling rather.”

“About?”

You frowned. Clarification of your worries was way harder than it seemed and immediately you thought that maybe getting into this subject was not the wisest idea. Supporting your weight on one elbow, you rose up and looked him in the eyes. There was a genuine concern, a will to help, and you wondered how people around you could be so blind to still consider him as ruthless.

“It’s just a stress,” you explained vaguely and kissed the corner of his lips. “No need to worry about, let’s go get breakfast, shall we?”

Whether he did not want to push you or respected your opinion, Thranduil did not ask any more questions. Still, he managed to successfully occupy your mind with kisses and delicious breakfast.

Walking up the stairs, you greeted the maid and headed forward to the dressing room to grab a coat before joining Thranduil on a stroll through the gardens. Although the weather seemed appealing from behind the windows, you quickly found out that it was rather cold once you stepped outside. Blowing wind tossed the fallen leaves all over the estate, giving the gardener a plenty of additional job.

Thankfully, spending the peaceful, completely normal morning with your fiancé was enough to make you lighten up a little, forgetting about the unpleasant incident. Perhaps you truly were overreacting; it was not the first time when your empathy gave you a wrong impression of what was going on around you and if you could only focus on something else, you could quickly realize that there was nothing to be afraid of. You were safe and there was a bright future ahead of you, full of wonderful surprises, marvellous adventures and never-ending love.

Smiling to yourself, you turned right on the first floor and went through the corridor, taking a mental note to take a pair of gloves and a scarf for Thranduil also, before you stopped abruptly and held your breath.

Cold sweat rolled down your spine as your mind was desperately trying to understand what you have just witnessed—to no avail. Frozen in place, you could only stare blankly at the portrait hanging on the wall, the one which has been there since the times of Thranduil’s grandparents. It was all the same as you remembered it; golden frame, heavy movements of brush against the canvas, mostly brown and copper colours used, green armchair appearing as soft and comfortable, roses blooming from the corners, however, now there was one detail missing.

The armchair was now empty.

“I swear to you, I’ve seen it,” you confessed, your trembling hand hidden in Thranduil’s, warmed up by his natural heat, as you led him to the first floor. “She was not there, the lady from the portrait disappeared as if she just casually stood up and went out of her painting. I know it sounds crazy but it’s true.”

Thranduil remained quiet, following you with the long steps until you finally reached the said portrait. Unexpectedly, you felt a wave of relief washing down on you as you realized that the lady was still not present, since you were afraid that once you will go and get your fiancé here, she might come back and therefore make you appear as a lunatic. You were not convinced if he would believe you in the story only.

His answer, however, was as stoic as he always was.

“I see…”

For a long moment, you were staring at the painting. With him by your side, there was new courage in your heart and eventually, you took a step forward, looking at the canvas from a different angle, hoping to maybe see her hiding behind the painted armchair. Naturally, she was not there and the painting was as flat as you could expect.

You peeked over the shoulder when you heard Thranduil walking away and quickly followed him.

“What are we going to do about it?” you asked hesitantly.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” You blinked in confusion. “There’s a living portrait in the house and we’re supposed to just ignore it?”

“What else should we do?” He raised an eyebrow and this question shushed you successfully.

Indeed, what should you do? Look for her? Where, on the on the other paintings, like in Harry Potter? Put the portrait down, so she would not have a place to come back to? Burn it? Every idea seemed to be more ridiculous than the previous one so you only shook your head in resignation.

You would gladly take a walk in the garden now, but first, you had to add few drops of bourbon to your coffee.

The lady came back on her painting next morning. She was sitting on her armchair in the same position, with the same, soft smile on her lips and you started to wonder whether yesterday happened at all. Thranduil confirmed your inquires to be true and although you still felt like in a dream, the life was going on. This time, however, everytime you passed the painting by, you were eyeing the portrait carefully, looking for any signs of movement, any proof that you were not crazy.

You and your fiancé equally.

She did not move for the next week but it was getting harder and harder to be glad about it, since various objects from the home started to disappear and appear in the same places some time later. First, your favourite mug, then Thranduil’s tie, a shoe, a key to the basement, porcelain figurine, 5th volume of the book series, a vinyl record and a single candle from the candelabra. None of the staff knew what happened and surprisingly, they were as shocked to discover the things reappearing as you were previously.

“Did that happen before?” you asked Thranduil one evening, while sitting by his side in the enormous living room by the fireplace. “Before I moved in, I mean.”

You did not have to explain the details to him, so he would know what were you talking about in an instant.

“Sometimes,” he sighed, still looking at the screen but now paying no attention to the film’s plot.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Why should I?” Corners of his lips turned up in a weak smile. “To scare you off with the ghost stories about my house being haunted?”

Fair point.

“Have you ever tried to… talk to it?”

He sent you a curious gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean trying to communicate. I’m no expert but things like that usually happen when they want something. When they’re lost or scared or lonely. Maybe that’s the way of getting our attention so we can do something about it, while we’re still here.”

Thranduil did not answer for a long time, staring blankly at the screen, completely lost in his own thoughts. When you started to wonder whether he will talk about it with you anymore tonight, he finally spoke again, his voice slow and quiet, barely a tone above a whisper.

“My wife died many years ago. This place changed so much since she left, no current staff remember her and with every passing year, I’m remembering her less and less myself.” Rising a glass, Thranduil took a big sip of the wine but you decided to not interrupt him. It was the first time he has ever started to speak about her so elaborately.

You were aware that he was a widower, he has informed you about that at the beginning of your relationship, just in case you had anything against it. Still, he never spoke about her again as if he was avoiding this topic as much as possible, and you knew better than to start it. She was the love of his life and although at first it unsettled you, seeing the painful, tired expression on his face when he finally brought the subject proved you that there was nothing to be afraid of. His love for her was eternal but it did not lessen the depth of affection he had toward you.

Love was not a pool to divide between the people in certain parts, it was always different and always whole to give.

“She loved this house,” he continued. “She loved her son and she loved me. This place was filled with her love, completely. And truth be told, once she was gone, the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced was waking up one day and realizing that she’s not here anymore. As if she never existed, as if she was just a projection, a fleeting dream, a whisper on the wind… I could no longer touch her, feel her, hear her voice. She was as far away as the stars upon the sky, unreachable, unimaginable.

Then, things like that started to happen, sudden disappearances but nothing harmful, just a simple jokes. Silly games. At first I couldn’t believe my own sight either but it was true and it was not evil. Moreover, it was as if she was still there, a soft reminder that I wasn’t mad, dreaming about her love, and the memories we shared were real.

I missed her every day and please, don’t hate me for that, but I believe I’ll miss her forever, too.”

It was rare to see the tears in his eyes and the sight was enough to make you feel your eyes burning also. Gently, you hugged him, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and stroking his hair, the bittersweet grief squeezing your heart harder than ever before. You loved him more than anything; you were willing to leave your homeland for him, to withstand his difficult, distant personality and eccentric behaviour and to devote the rest of your life for him knowing, that he will never be truly yours.

Holding him in your arms, weeping the tears of sorrow, you loved him more than ever before.

The last thing which mysteriously disappeared in the house was never found.

You were sitting with Thranduil by the long table and enjoying the delicious dinner, listening to the music playing and making plans about your upcoming wedding. Before the meal, you were looking through the album featuring variations of cakes, the one which included so many propositions that it was hard to pick at least five better than the others. You had a feeling that the preparations will take much longer than you previously thought, but the vision of marrying your fiancé was more than appealing.

“I’m afraid to even start a conversation about the decorations,” Thranduil added. “Perhaps it’d be wiser to simply hire someone to take care of it.”

“We’ll see. I don’t want anything to be missing on our special day.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll personally supervise the preparations.”

“That’s a relief.” You sighed dramatically. “Speaking of which, I have some good news for you. The earring, the one I was supposed to wear on the wedding, was found.”

Thranduil tilted his head to the side.

“Was it?”

“Yes. It was in the casket, just where I left it.”

“I’m glad then.” He smiled genuinely. “It would be a shame if I had to buy you multiple new pairs, just in case they got lost also.”

You giggled at that statement, knowing that he was capable of doing this just to make sure that nothing could interrupt your special day. Sometimes, you were starting to think that it was him who was more nervous about the whole act than you, even though he managed to hide it well most of the time.

Taking a sip of your tea, you eventually decided to not tell him about the last thing which seemed to be missing. There was no need to worry him, especially since you were certain that this one will not be found anytime soon. Your insecurity was, after all, the last thing which you wanted back, and the gentle smile of the lady in portrait ensured you that there was nothing to be uncertain about, not in the house, nor about the love of your future husband.

#13daysofspookywritingevent #13 days of spooky writing event #thranduil x reader #thranduil #the hobbit

[lonestarpost]

April 5, 2021~ Masterlist ~ Issue 9

Episode Spotlight

An video episode spotlight by @trkstrnd

The Edits Edit

Some of the best edits this week that deserve all the love.

This Grace edit by @beesgraphicsmess is so amazing and highlights Grace so well this one of Judd is also great.

jamie’s 1k follower celebration ~ favorite episodes ↳ #3 - 2x04 “Friends with Benefits” by @silvarafael is an excellent gif set (and all the ones in the 1k follower celebration series are wonderful).

9-1-1: LONE STAR - S1 E8 - “Monster Inside” (and all the Carlos Reyes edits) by @howtosingit is always a delight to see on my dashboard.

I’ll crawl home to him… | [insp.] by @marwankenzari is a breathtaking Tarlos gifset that I adore.

Prince Carlos as seen at his 25th Name Day Celebrations  by @reyeslonestar is an amazing piece of fanart!

I’m gonna love you for a long time by @shoenaerts is beautiful.

he found the colors to paint him where the world had left him grey. by @marwankenzari is a lovely Tarlos edit.

make me choose: (buddie or tarlos?)  by @maygrant is a marvelous Tarlos edit.

This Tarlos edit by @beesgraphicsmess is amazing!

This impressive edit by @djdangerlove is gorgeous

Fic Recs

Showing love to fantastic writing!

Sleep is never coming by @marjansmarwani (Brilliantbanshee)

Word Count:2881

Chapters: 1/1

Owen has been having the same dream for months now. Every few nights he falls asleep and is returned to one of the worst moments of his life in vivid technicolor. After one of these nights, he finds himself in the kitchen: seeking some tea in pursuit of sleep when he is suddenly not alone. But maybe the young officer who just stumbled into his kitchen from his son's bedroom is the best person he could talk to about this. Maybe it takes someone who loves his son as much as he does to truly understand the fear that is keeping him up at night.

we’ll be a fine line by @reyesstrand (stormss)

Word Count: 3220

Chapters: 1/1

He closes his eyes, and all he can picture is the kid's pinpoint pupils and cold, clammy skin. TK closes his eyes and all of a sudden he's back in his shoebox apartment in Brooklyn, and he can't get rid of the sourness pooling under his tongue, the trembling of his fingers, no matter how damn hard he tries.

Turn to the Left by @alilypea (alilypea)

Word Count: 2952

Chapters: 2/? (WIP)

TK Strand has been modelling since the age of 16,  but a rash of bad jobs and bad publicity, as well as a bad breakup, send him running to his Dad, Owen Strand, Captain of the 126 in Austin, Texas. There he learns that fame can't get you everything, and sometimes you have to win people over by being honest and being yourself...

When Snow Falls, We Listen by (destimushi)

Word Count: 15925

Chapters: 6/24 (WIP)

Hollywood heartthrob TK Strand seems to have everything figured out. He's got the career of his dreams, his pick of scripts, and a platform where he gets to touch the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. Sure, his personal life is just one sex scandal after another, but he's used to that. He loves his job and adores his fans and that's all that matters. After attending a wedding that drags up unpleasant memories from a past he'd rather forget, TK books himself a remote cabin in Canada where he can re-center himself before his next big shoot.

Carlos Reyes loves to cook, but he loves watching people enjoy his food more. Although his catering and meal planning business is booming, he's lost the spark of passion that drove him to culinary school in the first place. When his last catering job goes sideways and nasty rumours start to fly, Carlos retreats to his family's cabin up north in Canada for some much needed time to make some life-altering decisions.

Miscommunication brings them together, but a snow storm keeps them there, and it's up to TK and Carlos to figure out what it is they both need to weather the storm.

no right to love you by (ksmalltalk)

Word Count: 17690

Chapters: 2/2

In an attempt to figure out his place in the world, TK has spent the last two months traveling after the events of the solar storm. While out on the road, TK aimed to define what home meant to him, only to realize that he left it back in Austin. Upon the day of his return, TK finds that so much of life is just as he left. Every aspect but one. With a change in relationship status for Carlos, the homecoming TK pictured is turned on its head. As he and Carlos work through their strained, complicated history, TK hopes that the next road he travels will lead to Carlos' heart.

Adding New Players by @djdangerlove (DjDangerLove)

Word Count: 2384

Chapters: 1/1

Carlos and TK both want kids, but TK's fears go beyond those of just new parent jitters.

reassurance in kissing by @lire-casander (Lire_Cassander)

Word Count: 870

Chapters: 1/1

#2 ~ a small, fleeting kiss — which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

Fandom News

Hosting events? Have important announcements? You’re welcome to bring them here to keep people in the know.

April 5-11: 911 Lone Star Angst Week

It’s no secret that this fandom is full of talented creators who love the hurt that comes with the show. As a way to highlight the incredible creations, we would like to introduce angst week!

Writing Prompts

April 5 / Day 1: Emotional whump + “How do we fix this?”

April 6 / Day 2: Physical whump + “Does it hurt badly?”

April 7 / Day 3: Coda / fix-it fic

April 8 / Day 4: Sickfic + “You need to rest.”

April 9 / Day 5: Mental health + “I’m so tired of feeling like this.”

April 10 / Day 6: Off the job injury + “You’ve got to be more careful.”

April 11 / Day 7: Free choice!

April 16-18: 911 Lone Star Weekend

Writing Prompts

Day 1: Romance/ “You are the only one for me.”/Fluff

Day 2: Emergencies/“Please, stay awake.”/Angst

Day 3: Found Family/“We’ve got your back, no matter what.”/Hurt/Comfort

Non-Writing Prompts

Day 1: Romance – Favorite tender moments

Day 2: Emergencies – Favorite rescue scenes

Day 3: Found Family – Favorite group scenes

#materlist #911 lone star #lone star post #issue 9 #april 5 2021 #text

[twc-thoughts-you-didnt-ask-for]

Mortality - Nate

The last part of my Mortality series. Nate’s was probably the one I had the hardest time writing... so hopefully it’s not too bad. Ironically I think it is also the longest one. Fic starts under the read more :)

Love any feedback anyone may have

Other parts of the Mortality series: Adam / Mason / Felix

Nate hated this dream. The haunting of a failure that he would never recover from.

It was a scene Nate had seen before, rather, a scene he had lived before. Murphy, taken down with the help of the detective, and his unit all feeling a general sense of relief that Murphy could do no more harm... but the feeling was quickly ripped away from all of them as Felix shouted for the detective. Nate would never be freed from the memory of the beautiful and brave detective collapsed on the ground with nothing but mud and blood cushioning the fall. 

Nate also could never forget the intoxicating scent of Dinah’s blood that day either and the raw hunger and fear it incited in him. 

Nate was a third party to this vision and recognized the look on himself well. He remembered that moment with jarring accuracy. He remembered the war that was waged within himself like an angel and a devil on his shoulders. The angel begging him to remember himself, that the detective was a living person he knew and was beginning to care for... while the devil reminded him what he was. What he craved. 

Disgust settled in. 

Nate knew how the rest of this scene played out, so he patiently waited for the dream to play it’s course and end. He waited to hear himself mention the rain water.

But he waited in vain. 

He watched himself run towards the detective, cradling her in his arms, and then the vision of himself looked Nate in the eye as he sunk his teeth into the detective... cruelly stealing what little fight she had left. Cruelly stealing what little life she had left.

Nate shot up from his laying position in bed, breathing heavily. He ran his hand through his slightly damp hair and brought his knees closer to his chest in an attempt to comfort himself. 

Panic. Panic. Panic. 

It was just a dream. Just a dream. A dream.

He could try to recite affirmations of how unreal it all was, but he would not know peace. He needed to know that Dinah was well... that she was alive. That her eyes would light up when her gaze fell upon him... that the eyes he had drained the life out of in the dream didn’t exist here. 

Nate was lucky that Dinah stayed at the warehouse that night. He felt guilty leaving his room to approach hers with how late it was... but he would have felt like a creep had he gone to her home. He just needed to hear her heartbeat for a minute, that was all. A confirmation that she was alive and well. That this reality wasn’t the darkest one. Then he would leave. 

And so he left to find himself outside her door. The soft, slow thumping sound of her heartbeat that he knew so well echoed in his ears. It warded away all the hurt and fear he felt. 

Before he knew it or could stop himself, he suddenly found his knuckles lightly tapping on her door. 

He could hear her on the the other side. Her heart picking up the pace as it left slumber. The swish of fabric being pushed aside and she climbed out of bed. The click of a switch. The soft padding of her feet making their way to him. 

Dinah peered through the slight opening of the doorway, seeing it was just him, before opening it fully. Her eyes were puffy with sleep and guilt settled in at his actions. He shouldn’t have disturbed her like this. This could have waited until morning... maybe these feelings would be gone by then and the detective wouldn’t even need to know that this was a nightmare he had. That he feared that some day he would fail the detective once more. Maybe by morning he could leave the nightmare behind like it never happened. 

But it was too late for all that now.

She took one look at him, confusion painted on her face at how awful he must have looked to her, and pulled him down so that she could wrap her arms around his neck in a comforting embrace. 

In truth, he would have been elated with her looking at him with a warm smile as she always had, but he could hardly argue with his situation. 

“Nate, what is it? What’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” she releases him after saying that to look at him. “Wait, have you? Are you scared of ghosts? Are there ghosts here? Nobody told me tha-” 

He chuckled despite himself and she gave him the huffy look she always did when she was becoming embarrassed. While he openly would admit that there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t love about her, he’d be lying if he didn’t say he had some favorites. This expression was one to them. 

“I apologize for waking you, Dinah, it was thoughtless of me. But... seeing as I have, might I stay with you tonight?”

He felt uncertain at his words, realizing how they may sound. 

“I’m afraid that my sleep was... interrupted by some unpleasant dreams.”

Warmth and understanding became visible on her face. “Yes, of course you can. Please, come in.”

Her room at the warehouse matched her home. Cozy and comforting. Nate was as at home in the room just as much as he was at home with the person who inhabited it. 

This was not the first time he had stayed here with her. The couple had become rather inseparable as time moved on, evident by some of his things that riddled the room. The side of the bed that he had claimed had a nightstand next to it with some of his things placed there, a space willingly given to him that made a statement of who he was to her like a claim. His room was much the same and it made him feel whole. Normal. Human. Alive. 

He sat in her bed, waiting as she flipped the light switch. While he could see in the dark, she could not, and he pretended that he didn’t witness her stumble her way back to the bed ungracefully before climbing in to join him. 

When they were cuddling in bed, he would always be the big spoon and her the little. Tonight, he wished he could ask her to hold him instead. To cradle him and surround him in the love and comfort he needed. He wanted to be coddled and it made him flush with embarrassment at the childishness of it.

But she was on the same page as him, as always. Words unnecessary between the pair that new each other so well. 

She would never cease to amaze him. 

She felt around the bed, looking for some part of him, and he moved his hand to her searching one. 

“Come here,” she softly. 

She would not need to tell him twice.

She lined them up in a way that his head rest on her chest and he wrapped his arms around her waist, her hands running comfortingly through his hair, and their legs tangling together as they always did. He was unaccustomed to being in her arms this way. How many times had he held her just like this when she couldn’t sleep because of the memories that plagued her? It was no wonder she liked it so much. That she found peace in it. Nate couldn’t fathom how anyone wouldn’t.

Nate could not imagine anything that could put him more at ease, actually. It felt like he had front row seats to the concert that was her heart. That he was privy to the lull that was the rise and fall of her chest. Like he was the only one in the world to know what her warmth and love felt like. He never wanted to leave.

To describe it as heavenly seemed atrociously insufficient. Offensive. There was no word in the dictionary that could describe this. Regardless, it took his pain and fears away. He felt as if his breath left with it. 

_____________________________________________________________

Dinah did not know at what point she fell asleep. 

Nate was no longer in her arms, but propped up on pillows beside her reading a book that was on his nightstand. She knew he must have known she was up based on her heart no longer having the slowness sleep always brought, but she also knew that he would deny having that knowledge in an attempt for their relationship to seem more normal.

“Good morning,” she yawned. 

Nate did his best impression of being surprised by her consciousness, smiled at her in a way that made her knees weak, and put his book back on the nightstand. 

“Good morning, my love,” he replied. 

No matter how many times Dinah heard the words, she didn’t believe that she would ever not become flustered by them. 

She scooted her way closer to him, Nate lifting his arms out of her way, so that she could rest her head against his ribs and drape and arm over his hips. He lowered his arms so that his hands wrapped around her and rested on the shoulder she wasn’t laying on. A tale as old as time when it came to how their mornings went. 

Dinah closed her eyes and let out a content sigh as Nate pushed some of her messily chopped hair out of her face so he could drink in the sight of her, an act he always made a point to do. As if he feared he would never see it again.  

“Can we talk about it?” she asked. 

His hand froze in place at that. 

“Talk about what?”

“Nate, you know what I mean. Last night. Your nightmare. Was it about the ship again?”

“Dinah, I’d rather no-” he began.

“Nate, please share with me. If it is of concern to you, it’s of concern to me. I’d rather not hide and keep things from each other.”

A defeated sigh.

“No, it was not of the ship. I had... a nightmare of when we faced Murphy.”

Dinah felt his fingers trace along the scar that would always mar her neck. One of two gifts that Murphy forcibly gave her.

She could relate to that nightmare, it’s one she couldn’t escape from either. 

“There you were... bleeding out on the ground and at first I thought it was a mere recollection, that at any moment rain water would surround you, but it never came and then I... I gave in.”

“Gave in?” 

“To what I am. I watched you dying right in front of me... and finished the job myself.” 

Dinah raised at that to look at him, to see his pained expression. His eyes glazed over as if he were somewhere else.

“Oh, Nate, it’s all right. It was just a drea-”

His gaze snapped to hers. “And what if some day it isn’t just a dream? What could have happened that night if it hadn’t been raining? What if-”

“Nate, you can ask yourself ‘what-ifs’ until you turn blue in the face but it won’t do you any good. You did the right thing and you saved my life. You can’t what-if your way out of that fact.”

He scoffed, a rare noise from him. Practically foreign. 

“I was also the one who put your life at risk.”

“Nathaniel Sewell, don’t you dare put that on yourself. Murphy is responsible for that night, not you.”

“There will be more Murphys. There will be more mistakes.” he said solemnly. 

“... You could turn me.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you’re so worried about my potential death, you could turn me into a vampire,” Dinah explained.

Nate’s nose wrinkled at that, revulsion altering his face. 

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘No’?”

“I will not do that to you. I won’t steal your life away from you. I won’t throw you into an unsafe world.”

“Nate, I’m already knee deep into your world. My blood is sought after by every bad guy out there. It doesn’t matter which world I’m in, I’ll never be safe.”

He visibly flinched at that.

“Humanity is-”

Dinah would not relent. 

“If I stay human, you’re guaranteeing that you will watch as I die. I don’t want you to do that to yourself. You can’t tell me you want that.”

Nate had the look of a man stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

He reached out to her, putting her back into the position she had been in prior to raising herself up. The only difference being her angled her face to look at him, cradling her cheek in his hand while his thumb stroked her cheekbone.

“I could tell you what I do want.”

“I’m listening.”

“Dinah, what I want is for us to be happy. I want to wrap you up and take you away to an island where no one can harm you. I want nothing bad to ever befall you or even dare look in your direction. But what I really, really want is out of reach.”

“And that is?” she asked, a little overwhelmed by his heartfelt declarations.

“I would love nothing more than a mortal life with you. A normal, mortal life that runs it’s course as it ought. Flirting, dating, engagement, marriage, kids, white picket fences, retirement... to be an old couple that has everyone wondering ‘What’s their secret?’ and us saying something cliché that leaves them with envy rather than clarity. A normal life where the world in which the supernatural is nothing more than a novelty found in fiction. But I can’t have all of that.”

“And please don’t think that it’s not that I don’t want to spend forever with you,” he continued hastily,” because it’s not that either. I can’t think of anything I’d like more. It’s just that... this isn’t black and white for me. This is very much a gray topic for me. A gray topic that I don’t like to dwell on.”

Dinah said nothing as she continued to look him in the eyes, waiting for something more. 

Nate lowered his face to hers and pressed their lips together in a slow, soft, and intimate kiss that he conveyed all his love into. He pulled away moments later and rested his forehead on hers.

“Listen, I can’t tell you what I would do if push came to shove. I am torn. I... Let’s make a deal, shall we? I will try to not obsess over the scares of the past and future if you try not to obsess about your mortality for now, okay? Forever... will be a bridge we cross when we get there. There’s still a lot of time for us to enjoy right now, in the present.”

Dinah’s phone went off on her nightstand. She groaned loud enough to impress Mason were he present. 

“Not exactly. Adam knows today is my day off and he’s hellbent on doing me bodily harm.” 

She rushed off to change, knowing Adam was not to be kept waiting and Nate remained in bed. He would return to his room to change once Dinah left to meet with Adam. 

They were about to part ways in the hall when she called out to him. 

“Nate?”

“Yeah?” he asked turning to face her. 

She stopped in front of him, pulling him to her, and kissed him goodbye. Or at least he had assumed that was it until she answered him. 

“Okay.”

And with that she left him to go train.

He smiled. The present was too nice to be ignored for the unknowns of the future.

#the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #twc nate #twc detective #twc fanfic #twc

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

The Devil’s Daughter Ch. 2

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: The Winter Soldier X Reader (Bucky X Reader)

Summary: Born and bred to be a monster worthy to lead Hydra into a new age you must decide if you will become the beast they always intended or perhaps something greater… Someone worthy even, of love.

Warnings: Trauma. This one is lighter but I still advise to tread with caution when it comes to this series. 

A/N: I MISSED ALL OF YOU! I’ve been so wrapped up with work and another project that I haven’t had really any time to breathe. BUT I finally took like a half step back and remembered that fic is actually a form of self care for me. I LOVE writing these stories and needed to make time for this and, of course, to give those of you who are invested something to sink your teeth into. 

This is a shorter chapter but will answer that lingering question from the last chapter and, I hope, make up for the wait just a bit. 

Love you sweet pumpkins! 

TAGS ARE OPEN

If I missed your tag please remind me. 

You hadn’t expected sleep to come easily. It rarely did even before this seemingly endless day, and yet the moment you settled into the plush bed you fell into blissful unconsciousness. 

A few hours before sunrise, your eyes pop open. It certainly wasn’t the longest night’s sleep but you felt more than rested. Another side effect of the serum you suspected, and honestly, not a bad one. 

You had work to do. 

Tentatively you step from your room, both cautious of any potential threats and not wanting to disturb the presumably sleeping Soldier, wherever he may be. Thankfully, you found neither assailant nor your new muscle stalking around the space. 

Given your first goal of the day you were honestly more grateful to not see the Soldier awake than you were to not face an attack.

On the small dining table, the boxes of files on The Soldier sat just where you’d left them the night before. You lay your hand on top of one, almost reverently. 

There was no doubt that what these boxes contained was unpleasant if not horrific. Part of you almost didn’t want to crack into them, not wanting to take this journey now. 

With a deep breath, you shake your head, dismissing your hesitation. You’d made a commitment, albeit only to yourself, that you would give him his name back. And if his freedom could be wrenched from these files… Well, you’d do that too.

By the time the sun finally lit the windows you felt ill. No one could ever accuse you of having a weak constitution when it came to violence but still… some levels of depravity, especially sanctioned depravity, were more than even you could bear. 

The story told of The Soldier unfolded in the files on the floor around you. It was a lesson in just how deep the cruelty of man could go. 

Beyond the more gut-wrenching details, you’d gained a surface understanding of how he ticked. The triggers and tools available to you, none of which you intended to use, as well as his limitations. 

Part of his appeal was that he could be rendered a blank slate, a human weapon at the full control of whoever had a firm enough grasp on his leash. However, wiping him and bringing him fully back to square one had its risks. 

The insidious technique always carried the chance of simply leveling him to a state of drooling uselessness at best and death at worst. Because of this, they only wiped him entirely with the use of the chair when absolutely necessary. In fact, his last full wipe had been almost four years ago—which likely explained his remembering your encounter from several years prior. 

From what you gathered so far, this was one of the longer stints Hydra had gone without either icing or wiping him. The notes indicated that this was a great win. They thought they’d finally broken him. 

A smile filled your face knowing this was far from true. 

“Amusing read?” 

You had been so absorbed in your research that you didn’t hear his approach and embarrassingly jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“The content isn’t amusing. Their misguided ideas though…” 

His brows raise at this, “Ideas about what?” 

“That they have somehow finally broken you.” The moment the words leave your lips you regret them. His expression is unreadable, a combination of horror, disgust, and murderous rage that no language you knew had a word for. 

“Haven’t they.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Your presence here says they haven’t.” As did his attempt on your life last night and the fact that he didn’t kill you when you told him your plan. He doesn’t respond, just shoves his hands in his pockets, fixing his gaze out the window. 

“They think because they haven’t had to wipe you in so long that you’ve given in. It’s amusing because it’s the exact opposite, isn’t it? You figured out-”

“Even a dog learns not to bark when the shock collar goes off too many times.” His frigid tone makes you flinch. You think to respond but his cold glare freezes your jaw shut. “It doesn’t mean a goddamn thing.”

“You’re wrong.” 

A muscle in his jaw ticks and you brace for his rebuttal. It doesn’t come. He simply turns and strides onto the terrace. 

To say that wasn’t what you expected would be an understatement. Last night he admitted to remembering you, admitted that what he did to Eric he did for the both of you. Clearly he had grabbed hold of a bit of autonomy, some level of self-awareness. Yet he didn’t see it as any kind of victory… 

Rather than push the matter, you sigh and begin repacking the boxes, tucking the nightmarish pieces of The Soldier’s puzzle away--all but one. 

The file was old, dating back to WWII, it’s edges frayed and flaking. Once more you flip open the cover. 

Held by a rusted paperclip is a black and white photo of a striking young man in military dress with a mischievous smile. 

Your eyes wander from the photo to the man on the terrace. Logically you knew they were the same person but at the same time, it seemed impossible. There was a spark in the person staring back at you in the photo, an effortless charm that couldn’t be dulled by the passage of time. For that energy to remain in a photograph and not in the man himself… 

Taking care to not damage the picture, you slide it from the paperclip. The document below held nothing but basic information, information he may want. The photo though--well it seemed almost cruel to present him with it when it was clear the man in it had died a long time ago. 

“Oh,” you breathe out as his reaction makes some kind of sense to you. 

Before you’d wondered if he may remember his name, it seemed marginally possible given that he’d known you. But after what you’d learned and how your words had clearly hurt you knew that wasn’t the case. He may have wrenched some control back out of sheer will over the past few years but it was, for him, a hollow victory.

With effort you swallow the lump in your throat, setting the file on top of the box before you head back to the room you’d slept in. 

Looking to take your mind off your bungled good deed you pick up the burner phone Mara had given you thinking to ring her to come on up until you note the early hour. The woman had been through hell, you could grant her a few more hours of what you hoped was restful sleep. 

Unable to think of anything else to do you get in the shower, turning the water to a scalding temperature. The sting on your skin grounding you in your body, making you feel present, as pain so often did. 

-

He wanted to… apologize? Maybe? Even though he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to or if he was just afraid of what may happen if he didn’t. 

She isn’t like that, he tries to tell himself. But whether that was the truth or just his own pathetic need for it to be true he didn’t know. 

If he was being honest, he could hardly tell up from down.

Sighing, he rubs his temples, forcing down a few deep breaths. 

She didn’t deserve that, a voice in his head whispers. It’s right. She may be the one who was wrong but he’d been needlessly cold. 

Squaring his shoulders he heads back inside only to be met by the sound of the shower. 

Relief floods him. He may have decided he would apologize but he hadn’t actually known what to say. Before he’s able to think more about it his eyes land on a single folder sitting conspicuously on top of the boxes. 

In the span of a heartbeat, everything around him falls away for just a moment. Then the alarm bells sound. 

He’s both too hot and too cold. His breath ragged, if not gasping.  In his chest, his heart threatens to break free. 

Still, he moves like a man possessed toward the unassuming document. 

All night he’d thought of coming out here and opening these boxes. Tearing through them with the hopes that he’d get back whatever they took from him or find out that there was nothing worth regaining. 

Really that’s what he wanted to learn. More than anything he wanted to open these boxes and know that he had always been this creature of Hydra. He wanted there to only be this. He needed the skinny boy with the busted lip and bright smile, the woman humming in a kitchen, and the little girl on ice skates who haunted his dreams to be figments crafted by his fractured mind. 

If the Soldier was all he ever was he could continue onward. Anything else… 

With shaking hands he lifts the file and opens it. 

It’s like being punched in the chest. 

Gasping he falls to his knees on the plush carpet. In his mind, he’s falling elsewhere. A man screams a word printed on the page. 

“Bucky!” 

It echoes through his very bones. Over and over. 

“Bucky, you promise I won’t fall?” The little girl wears a red scarf, her blue eyes big and trusting. 

“Bucky, take this to the table and tell your sisters to wash up.” The woman has the same blue eyes, her smile feels like home. 

“Bucky, I don’t need you to fight my battles.” The skinny boy says, wiping blood from his lip. 

“Bucky!”

“Bucky!”

It feels like the only sound in the world. 

“James!” 

That wasn’t right. 

“James!”

Another word. Another name. 

“James, you come back to us. You hear me boy?!” The man’s voice and face were severe but his brown eyes shone with tears. 

“James, you really bring out the best in him you know?” The woman’s red lips curl in a friendly smile. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake. James!” 

The sting of a slap brings reality crashing in sending all the nameless ghosts tumbling back into the fog always lingering at the edges of his mind. In their stead is a face with a name he knows. 

“Catherine.” 

She huffs out a breath, wet hair tumbling into her face smelling like flowers. When she looks back at him her eyes flood with regret. 

“I’m so sorry for hitting you. I… You didn’t seem to be breathing but you looked like you were screaming…”

“It’s o-”

“It isn’t ok.” Sighing, she sits cross-legged in front of him, her eyes lighting on the file still gripped in his hands. 

Only then do his eyes reluctantly find their way back to the page. 

Barnes, James “Bucky” Buchanan 

He fights down the bile rising in his throat. 

“James.” It comes out garbled like his tongue can’t quite make sense of the syllables. He doesn’t notice his trembling until her warm hand rests against his left forearm. 

“You called me, James.” 

“I did. Was that ok?” He meets her eyes once more, unsure of how to answer. “I won’t use it if-” Shaking his head he cuts her off glancing back at the page. 

“James is good.” Too many nameless faces whispered the other name. But James, there were fewer echoes there. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, James.”

Her voice is warm, soft. He almost thinks he’s imagining it. 

“Is it?”

“Without question.” She gives his arm a squeeze, and he knows this is real. 

“I assume you prefer coffee to tea?” Catherine asks as she rises to her feet, striding to the phone without explanation. 

“I-” He’s a bit baffled by the shift. 

“Well, you are American. So I assume you prefer coffee.” 

Did he? 

“I’ll get both and if you prefer coffee I win.” He can’t help but laugh a little. 

“What do you win?” 

“I’ll think of something.” She winks before picking up the receiver and James could almost swear his pulse quickened if only a little. 

TAGS

@mywinterwolf   @breezy1415  @peachthatdrinkslemonade  @wonderlandmind4  @buckysstar  @for-the-love-of-the-fandom  @siriuslycloudy2  @wildmoonflower  @cutie1365  @this-kitten-is-smitten  @nighttwingg  @handplucked  @whiskeywinter89 @damnaged-princess @the7intheimpala @saaamsayshi @7minutes-tomidnight @amorluzymelodia @auroraluna777 @leniaana @ilovespideyyy @jaxthebookworm @docharleythegeekqueen​ @olympos-92 @legendarywinchester1 @coffeebeforewater​ @sebastianstansqueen​

#the winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #dark fic

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Prejudices - Tyler Joseph x Reader

Requested

Summary: Josh has wants to introduce you to his friend Tyler, but you’re far more interested in the lead singer of the band Josh just joined.

Warnings: prejudices, implied bullying in the past

Word count: 2 293

A/N: Kinda inspired by an idea from that post that said high school Tyler looked like the kinda kid that would beat up high school Josh

“I swear, (Y/N), give him a chance,” Josh almost whined.

You raised your eyebrows, and took a sip of iced coffee. It was by far not the first time Josh tried to put in a good word for his friend Tyler. And you had a feeling it would not be the last time either. But so far everything Josh had told you sounded too perfect, and yet some things really raised red flags for you. Most of all: the fact that Tyler had played basketball for his high school, and if you had learned anything from your time in school, it was that someone like you should stay as far away from the sports kids as possible. How Josh was friends with someone like that was a miracle to you. And thanks to your prejudices, you had not even met said Tyler yet.

Josh sighed as he saw your reaction.

“You don’t even know him,” he argued.

You could not deny that it amused you how he basically lead this discussion on his own.

“I’m pretty sure you’d really like him. And he’s looking forward to meeting you too,” Josh mumbled.

“You told him about me,” you finally asked, putting down the glass with your beverage.

“Yeah, of course! You two are like… you’re my best friends. Understand now why it’s kinda taking a toll on me to never be able to have both my best friends in the same room with me? So yes, I talked to him about you.”

You nodded quietly. Of course you had always been very close to Josh, but you had not known he had considered you one of his best friends; you were not used to people appreciating your friendship.

“I’m sorry, Josh, but you know that I kinda have a problem with-“

“With people who you think are pricks because they are good at sports, I know. But Tyler is not like the guys from school. And you can always leave when you feel uncomfortable, I promise,” Josh tried convincing you.

You wet your lips, and took another sip of your iced coffee.

“Do I have a choice,” you eventually sighed.

Josh grinned, knowing he had finally won the discussion that had been going on for weeks between the two of you.

“Come to the show tomorrow evening then? You can see me play, and afterwards you meet Tyler?”

You nodded in agreement.

“The show with that new band of yours, twenty one pilots,” you asked, a feeling of uneasiness settling in your stomach. Meeting Tyler would probably end with Josh being disappointed that you two did not get along. But he would never have stopped bugging you about it, if he would not see it for himself. At least you had a nice concert to cheer you up beforehand.

“You do know I totally plan on setting you two up, you know,” Josh reminded you, grinning triumphantly over the edge of his cup of coffee.

“Yeah, Josh, I know,” you rolled your eyes.

~*~

The concert was in a small hall that usually was used for parties and medium sized events. You assumed about fifty to seventy people would fit in here, but when you came in, there were only about thirty. Opposite the entrance, a stage was set up with Josh’s drums, a piano and a mic stand, together with some amps. It seemed like you had come just in time, because only moments after you had found a good place to stand for the duration of the show, not too far away from the stage, yet not too close either, Josh walked up to his drum set. People clapped and cheered a little, and so did you.

But then your attention got drawn to the other band member, who walked on stage.

Josh had never bothered to share his name with you and right here, right now, you knew that there was no way Josh would get you to be interested in his Tyler tonight, not when you had just laid eyes on the most intriguing person you had ever seen. Why was Josh so dead set on introducing you to Tyler, when this guy right here, wearing a skeleton hoodie and dancing around on stage, was so much more interesting?

In the beginning he had been wearing the hood, which had been zipped closed in front of his face, and you already found yourself noticing the energy that seemed to flow out from underneath his clothes, energy and excitement, and nervousness and eagerness all at once. It drew you in and you could not help but curse Josh for never telling you this guy’s name.

You had to remind yourself that you had been intrigued by this man’s presence even before you had seen his face, because once you did, you were absolutely certain you would spent the next week (at least) swooning secretly over him. Dark, short hair, almost black eyes and fragile features made a strange contrast to the confident behaviour he put on, which did not match the helpless glance over the small crowd.

It took just one look at him to know he was up there for the same reason Josh was, for the same reason why you painted: He needed a way to deal with whatever his mind tortured him with. You had seen that expression often enough on people. Maybe it was not obvious to people who never had to face these dark, dark demons of their mind, and his confidence on stage was, if not real, very well faked, so it was not obvious for everyone, but you just had a feeling about it. That would at least explain why Josh was so happy that he had gotten into the band; finally there was someone who made music and understood him. Just when that thought had crossed your mind, the singer, now with the hood pushed off his head, microphone in hand, jumped on top of the amp closest to you. He looked over the crowd again, and for a moment his eyes met yours.

You were unable to concentrate on anything other than him for the rest of the show.

The concert was amazing. And not only because of the singer. The music was great, the sound could have been better mixed, but then again the people and their enthusiasm made up for everything. Somehow you had managed to forget about the unpleasant encounter that was waiting for you, until the musicians had walked off the stage, and the rush of adrenaline slowly faded. Leaning against the wall next to the door, you wondered how much hell Josh would give you if you snuck out now.

You did not feel like ruining this perfect evening by meeting up with some stupid, egocentric asshole who somehow had tricked Josh into liking him; you would much rather dream a little about that singer, and maybe ask Josh for his name tomorrow.

You were torn out of your thoughts by an unfamiliar voice. Quickly you looked up, and found yourself almost getting a heart attack from looking directly into the face of the singer. Up close he was even prettier. His overly confident stage act had molten away. Instead he seemed pretty comfortable now in his own skin, a little sweaty from the show, maybe mixed with a hint of shyness, but trustworthily normal.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

Hastily you stood up straight; pushing yourself away from the wall you had leant against, and nodded, feeling how a blush was rising to your cheeks.

“It was amazing, yes,” you answered, “Josh never played me any of you guys’ music before, so I didn’t know what to expect, but I really loved it.”

The man giggled at your rambling. It was a lovely sound.

“You’re a friend of Josh’s then,” he asked, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“Yes, we’ve known each other for years,” you explained, “since school.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say. You were about to introduce yourself, when he spoke up again.

“I saw you from the stage,” he told you, a teasing half-grin on his face that made him look way too adorable. “Seemed like you were having a good time.”

You laughed embarrassed.

“Oh great, I made a complete idiot of myself,” you joked.

“Not at all! I like it when people have fun at our shows. Means we aren’t too bad at our job,” he laughed, “so is there a chance I’ll see you again at one of our future shows?”

Surprised you looked up at him. The last sentence had sounded shier than you had expected him to sound.

“Um, yeah, of course,” you nodded, “I’d love to see you guys live again some time.”

“Great,” the man smiled relieved, “’cause that gives me the opportunity to get to know you better.”

You raised a challenging eyebrow at him.

“Is that so?”

“Uhm… yeah.” He laughed, not sounding shy anymore.

“Well, then I really have to come, don’t I? Given I survive the rest of this night…”

His face turned from friendly amusement to a frown immediately.

“Survive the rest of the night? Why? Something going on?”

“Nothing big really,” you shrugged, “just… Josh’s wanted to introduce me to one of his friends, and I got a real bad feeling about it.”

“Why? He’s an asshole or something,” the singer asked, making you nod.

“I got a feeling he probably is. But if it makes Josh happy, I’ll meet him. Maybe then he’ll finally believe me that we wouldn’t get along.”

“Ugh, friendships, always so much work,” the other shrugged, “I’m sure it’ll work out somehow, I mean… if not… you could always give me a call and I’ll kidnap you or something.”

“That actually sounds like a plan,” you laughed, glad that the guy in front of you found a way of cheering you up, and also definitely flattered that he was flirting with you.

“So… can I give you my number,” he asked.

“Uhm, yeah, sure, if you like,” you mumbled, feeling a little shy suddenly.

“Here-“ the guy pulled out a felt-tip-pen, “got a paper?”

Shaking your head, you quickly rolled up the sleeve of your shirt, and presented your forearm to him.

He giggled quietly, and stepped closely next to you. Holding your arm with one hand, he scribbled down a series of numbers on your skin. He was about to add his name, which you were incredibly thankful for, when you suddenly spotted Josh’s brown mess of hair at the other end of the room.

You sighed quietly, knowing your time with the wonderful person at your side was up, when Josh spotted you and waved.

“(Y/n)! Tyler!”

You froze. Had he just called the guy here Tyler? Had you been talking to Tyler all this time?

“Josh, hey!” The person next to you cheered.

Dumbfounded you looked down to your arm, and sure enough there stood that cursed name right underneath the phone number.

“You already got talking,” Josh cheered, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“You - you’re Tyler,” you asked stupidly, making the men laugh.

“Yeah, yeah I’m Tyler,” the guy at your side laughed and closed the pen again, “Josh said you had some worries-“

“-so we thought it might be best if you got talking to him before you knew who he is.”

“Oh wow, great, now I feel more stupid than ever,” you mumbled.

Actually you felt sick. You knew prejudices were useless, but that you had even told Tyler that you thought he’d be an asshole… Dying seemed like a great way to leave that social situation right now.

“Oh no, don’t, please,” Tyler pleaded, and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving you a side hug; a distractingly comfortable side hug. “I know that the sports kids don’t always have the best reputation, I get it. Don’t worry.”

You shook your head, but before you were able to say anything Josh already spoke up.

“And it’s not like you never looked at Tyler throughout the show, is it,” he teased.

“I-“

“It’s fine Josh,” Tyler came to your rescue, “We already established that they’re gonna come to future shows so I can get to know them better, and that I jump in to kidnap them in case this conversation goes downhill, and they allowed me to give them my number so really I’ve done all the flirting on my own already.”

There was no denying that Tyler sounded incredibly proud at all of that.

“And now you even sneakily got your arm around their shoulder,” Josh pointed out. “I should never have introduced you two, now I’m the third wheel. You are as good as married!”

“Let me take him out on a date first,” you grinned, making the other two laugh.

“Alright, where to,” Tyler asked jokingly.

“Nah nah nah, not so fast! For tonight the plan was to go out for dinner all together, remember?“

“Our wedding will have to wait, darling,” Tyler announced in a fake sad voice, making you giggle.

“We might survive it,” you shrugged, “so: where to?”

“Taco Bell.” Tyler and Josh answered together at the same time.

“Are you sure it’s not actually the two of you who are getting married,” you asked.

“Uhm…”

“Shit, I knew there was something!”

The three of you laughed and moved towards the door, Tyler holding it open for Josh and you.

On the way down the street to Josh’s car, which had been chosen as the ride, you kept joking and your heart almost leapt into your throat, when Tyler’s hand brushed against yours, intertwining your pinkies with each other.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @starduststyx @angelevansfalls @rene-royale

#tyler joseph x reader #tyler joseph x reader fluff #tyler joseph fanfiction #tyler joseph fanfic #tyler joseph imagine #tyler joseph imagines #twenty one pilots fanfiction #twenty one pilots fanfic #twenty one pilots imagine #twenty one pilots imagines #tyler joseph x reader imagine #tyler joseph x reader fanfiction #tyler joseph x reader fanfic #tyler joseph x reader imagines #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #josh dun fanfiction

[romaxnogersav]

Angel in Silk: Chapter 1: Beverly Hills Directions

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Prostitute!Reader

Warnings: AU, implied drug use, angst, flirting, sexual suggestions (let me know if i’ve missed something!)

Word Count: 4273

Chapter summary: You are on the clock when you meet a gorgeous blond asking for directions. It’s hard to say no when he asks you to spend the night with him. 

A/N: Here it is, chapter one! I’m so excited to take on this journey. It’s my first time writing a multi-chapter work, a mini-series in this case. This is my submission for @arrowsandmixtapes​ ‘s Rom Com Challenge! This story is based on the movie “Pretty Woman”.

Taglist is OPEN. If you would like to be tagged in this, send me an ask!

Enjoy!💕

Your ears perked up, and your eyes fluttered open. The obnoxious sound from your alarm woke you up. You grunted and turned on your back. You reached for your phone, stopping the annoying sound. You checked the time, eight-thirty on the dot.

There goes another day, you thought and pulled the covers off of your body. You pulled yourself out of the bed, walked the small distance towards the bathroom, and once there, you stepped into the shower.

The water wasn't warm, cool at best. Yet, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing what a night you had ahead of you. Getting ready for your so-called "job" felt like a chore.

It almost felt like a necessity at this point. It wasn't like you chose to do this, it kind of chose you. If you could, you'd do anything, other than what you currently made money out of, but you guess luck wasn't on your side. Fairy tales, hopes, big city dreams, it was all a lie, reality didn't work that way, at least not for you. It pain rent, put food on the table, and for now, that was enough. You didn't have the luxury of choice, not at the point in life. Not when tomorrow, you could walk the streets of Los Angeles, homeless, starved. Choice wasn't something you could rely on, not in your position.

You tried to wash the nerves, the anxiety that tried to consume you, but it hardly worked, it never really did.

When you emerged from the bathroom, you dried your hair, before you made your way to your wardrobe, or what little space you kept your clothes in. You pulled a black lace lingerie set, a fairly new one. One, you spend quite the money on, so you could do your "job". After that, you looked through your clothes, until you found exactly what you were looking for. You put the tight, and rather short dress on then gave yourself a glance in the mirror.

You hated it, wanted to rip it off, but just like London had said, it got the job done. You pulled a pair of old mid-thigh boots and tugged at the material of the dress. It covered little, to nothing at all, reaching just under the curve of your butt. You brushed out your hair, letting it sit naturally, frame your face. You also put some light makeup on. You pulled a cardigan on, trying to cover yourself just a bit, and then you pulled your bag over your shoulder. You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror before you walked towards the front door.

Outside of your apartment, the smell of cigarettes and something else, stronger, greeted you. The hotel you and London were staying at was nothing short of a total dump. It housed all the wrong people. Junkies, alcoholics, ex-criminals, but what could you expect if you found yourself in that same place. More girls like you and your roommate lived there as well, prostitutes.

As you said it wasn't as much of a choice as it was a necessity. You needed the money. Coming into the big city wasn't something you though over, something you were a hundred percent sure in. Pretty soon after that, money got tight. It left you with no other choice, it was that, or you would have been as good as dead by now. So, you took the offer, and here you were a couple of months after, still trying to get used to it if you ever even did.

You were still new to this whole thing, a little inexperienced, even. London was providing as much help as she could. She had been doing this longer than you, so having her help, it meant a lot to you. When you found yourself in your current position, she was very open about explaining how things worked, after she offered you to try it.

It was strange, the first time. Selling your body for money, it wasn't something you ever expected to see yourself doing. Desperate times, called for desperate measures, though. You didn't enjoy it the first time, and you didn't enjoy it now. But you had to do it, just until you made enough to separate yourself from that kind of lifestyle.

You quickly exited the building and started walking towards the local bar, where you had no doubt London was. Just before you left the apartment, you checked the rent money, since rent was due today. What greeted you, though, was far more than what you expected. There were five bucks left off of the five hundred you had saved up. London had spent them all.

With a quick step, you walked the streets of Los Angeles. It was an unpleasant walk. You were still getting used to the looks some people threw at you as you walked past them. It was because of the way you looked, dressed. You kept your head high, though. If you started looking down at yourself the way those people did, what was the point of trying to do better in the future?

Soon enough, you reached the bar. You found your roommate cooped up with three other people, laughing her ass off, probably on the verge of getting high. When she spotted you, her face pulled into a grin, and she lifted her hands in invitation.

"Y/N, hey. Come sit with us," she cheered. You looked at her through anger, before you grabbed her hand, and dragged her away. "What the hell?" she slurred, almost yelled.

"That's what I thought, when I saw our rent, gone. What the hell, London?" you questioned, furious. You had barely made enough, with all the other things she spent her money on, and most of yours being spent on food.

"I just –" she dared to look regretful, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I needed it," she shrugged, which flared you off even more.

"Yeah, and Brock needed the money today, but here we are now," you sassed, which seemed to make her feel even worse than she already did because she looked at her shoes and exhaled. She wasn't a bad roommate, just a little reckless sometimes. She didn't think before she spoke before she acted, and it showed.

"Okay, look. We'll make some money tonight. I'm going to bust my ass, and we'll pay him tomorrow," she suggested, and you just shook your head at her. You swallowed past the anger in your throat. You didn't believe her, didn't want to at least. She'd been like that since you've known her, which, in all honesty, wasn't that long, but you still cared about her. Putting that garbage in her body wouldn't end well for her. Seeing her spend the money you barely made, sold yourself for. Money, you found yourself crying over sometimes, ones you wish you made under different circumstances didn't sit well with you.

You shook your head and exhaled again. "That's the last time, London. Or so help me God" you didn't finish your sentence, you were never one for ultimatums. "Let's get going." You grabbed her hand again, and together you started walking towards Hollywood Boulevard.

---

You were perked up against a tree, while London was pacing left and right, murmuring to herself, trying to spot someone she could get some money out of. It was a slow night, there wasn't anyone passing by that was looking to let off some steam, have a good night.

You were still pretty new to this whole thing, even though you have been in the business for a couple of months now. London was usually the one to pick which client you took, always hooking you first before she found her own. You were grateful, of course. It wasn't something you thought you'd be able to do yourself.

"Do you think I look okay?" you asked her out of nowhere, a bit unsure in the way you looked. You got a bit self-conscious sometimes, even though you knew you shouldn't. You couldn't help it, it's just the way you were.

She turned around and walked towards you. She stopped a foot or two before you, and her hand reached up. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before she spoke.

"You look hot, yet cute. Don't you worry about it." She grinned at you and you smiled at her in turn. You were just about to ask her a question when the roar of an engine stopped the words from leaving you. Your friend's eyes shone before her pink painted lips pulled up into a smirk.

"Would you look at that?" her comment caught you off guard. You averted your gaze and turned to look in the direction she was looking at. What greeted you was far more than what you expected. Across the road, a beautiful sports car, black cherry color, made its' way to the side of the road. You immediately recognized it.

"Hold on, that's an Acura NSX" you gasped, your eyes going a bit wide.

"No, that's rent. And he's all yours. Go on, win him over. Call me later and take care, okay?" she gave you a quick hug before she pushed you a bit, and it took all of your willpower not to trip and fall over. You pulled the cardigan off, and slowly walked a couple of steps ahead, to where the car had been parked mare seconds ago.

You took a deep breath, bend down across the open window, and peeked into the car. Behind the wheel sat a gorgeous blond. He was wearing a dark blue suit, probably tailored to fit him like a glove. His hair was slicked back, his beard on full display for you to see.

You licked your lips before you spoke in a calm, flirtatious matter.

"Hey sugar, looking for a date?" he turned his head towards you, eyes trailing up to yours. A beautiful sky blue met your vision. He cleared his throat and shook his head a little.

"No, I'm actually looking for Beverly Hills. Mind giving me some directions?" he sounded innocent, gentle, but no man ever was, especially not to you. And a guy like him, expensive suit, a sports car? Yeah, innocent wasn't what he was.

"Sure thing. For ten bucks," his eyes widened just a little.

"That's ridiculous"

"Ohh, it's twenty now."

"That's…. You can't seriously expect me to pay you for directions. You can't do that."

"I can do just about anything, pretty boy. I ain't lost," you sassed, before you pulled yourself off of the window, getting to your full height. You leaned against the side of the car, waiting. If he thought you'd help him, just like that, he had another thing coming. He was taking out of your time, asking for your help. You worked hourly, and there was no secret what you did, he knew that. The littlest he could do was give you a couple of bucks for the trouble he was going to give you.

It didn't take long for him to swallow down his pride. "Okay, you win. Get in." you smiled to yourself, before you pulled open the door, and got into the car. He held out a fifty, and even before he had the opportunity to say something, you were already speaking.

"For half a hundred, I'd be your personal guide," you spared him a glance before you put your seatbelt and pocketed the money. You gave him the directions he needed, and then you engaged in light conversation, just for the sake of things not being awkward.

"So, what's your name?" he suddenly asked and you moved around in your seat a bit before you looked at him through your lashes. You thought for a while. Men never really cared, either way, they simply paid for your service, for giving them a couple of hours to dream about. They never wanted to know, you were what they wanted you to be, for as long as they were paying you.

You turned in your seat, looking straight at him, batting your lashes for effect. "What do you want it to?" you breathed out. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, before he tilted his head to the side as if telling you to not play games with him. Maybe he cared, or he was just playing nice. You just exhaled playfully, before you mumbled. "Y/N. My name is Y/N."

"Y/N." he repeated quietly as if trying to see how your name rolled off his tongue. It caused light goosebumps to rise on your arm. The conversation quickly shifted afterward. When you asked him where he was staying, you gave him directions to the hotel.

Most of the car ride after that, which wasn't very long, to begin with, was spent in silence. He'd ask you a question, and you'd answer in a sarcastic way, which either earned you a little smile or an eye roll. Even both, once.

You watched him out of the corner of your eyes, hoping he wouldn't know you did. The blond though, he was able to sense when he was being watched, so he smiled a little when he sensed you observing him.

He seemed like a nice, patient person. A bit tense on the seams though. There was evident tension in both his shoulders and on his face too. He looked like he needed to relax a little, let off some steam. You didn't know why, but he kind of gave you the workaholic vide. You might be wrong, though. One never knew.

A couple of minutes later, he pulled up in front of his hotel. The Regent Beverly Wilshire was gorgeous. The golden arc design at the front was exquisite, and the big windows that showed part of the lobby to the outside eye, made the architecture of the building look even more magnificent.

You were a prostitute, sure, but you were still able to appreciate beauty.

You exited the car and patiently waited for your companion to do the same. When he exited the vehicle and walked to your side, he stopped a few feet before you. You swallowed thickly and hooked a thumb behind you.

"I should probably get going," you said with a tiny smile on your face. He looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read before he searched your eyes. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and rocket himself of the balls of his feet, just like a little kid in trouble. You had to admit it was cute. He was a grown-ass man, an important figure if you had to guess, and he got uncertain and weird around women? It was kind of hard to believe.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally spoke up. "Are you going to be okay?" the question left him in a murmur, and you had to hold back a smile at that. You were pleasantly surprised to hear someone asking you that. No one was ever interested to know, you were doing your job, after all, using your body for money. Maybe he didn't even care, but it was the thought that counted, made you smile.

You nodded and added a light "yeah" because he didn't look too certain at first. You pulled your cardigan on and were just about to bid him a good-bye when he suddenly spoke again.

"A hundred an hour, you said?" it sent you back to your conversation in the car. He asked how much you made, and he was naïve to think you made a hundred a night.

"Yeah" you answered in expectation, waiting to see what else he was going to say. He didn't even think things through before his raspy voice filled your ears again.

"If that's the case, then, I was wondering if you would mind accompanying me to my room? We could maybe talk for a while," he suggested, voice soft. He acted like a gentleman, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you. People like that were incredibly rare as it was, in your line of work, nonexistent even.

You were tempted to accept his offer, you really were. You needed the money you could potentially make out of spending an hour or two with the blond. You'd be able to pay rent, at least your half, and maybe save up a couple of dollars in the process as well.

If he did end up paying you for a simple talk, your night would probably end on a better note than you expected it to. You weren't a fan of what you did. Sleeping around for money was never your plan. But it had to do for now.

On top of that, he looked nice enough. He looked kind, a little childlike. He'd been a real sweetheart so far. He led light and civil conversation with you, even though he was well aware of what you did.

It was as if he was trying to look past that part of you, and even though it was who you were, for the time being, you were grateful for it. Everyone always looked at you in a certain way, disgusting way, just because of what you did. It was refreshing to see someone willing to look past that, if even for a little while.

"Or not." You offered in a seductive voice, just to mess with him a bit. It quickly fell and was replaced by a brow quirked in question. "You aren't a serial killer or something, right? Man don't usually go to pick up a hooker, so they could just "talk". You elaborated, and understanding flashed in his eyes before it quickly disappeared and was replaced by mirth.

"No, I'm not." There was a hint of amusement in his voice as you slowly made your way to the entrance of the hotel.

"What are you, then?" You tilted your head to the side in question. He looked like he struggled with the question for just a second before he shook his head and shrugged.

"Call me curious, if you will."

"Okay curious man, mind telling me your name?" his eyes widened at that, and he chuckled. He turned sideways and offered you his hand. You took it in your much smaller one and gave it a firm shake. His hand was warm, a bit rough, yet gentle when it collided with yours.

"Oh, where are my manners? My ma is probably rolling in her grave as we speak. I'm Steve," he joked and shook your head gently.

"Well, that sounds like an old man's name, Steve." You joked, nudging him with your elbow just a bit. It earned you another amused smile, which in turn made you smile wider.

"Are you saying that I'm old?" Far from it actually, he looked like he was in his early thirties at the very least, but you liked that he played along.

"No, but there's something about you that certainly gives off that vibe." He chuckled again, a low sound from the back of his throat. You got closer to the entrance, and he shed his suit jacket, draping it over you. You were about to ask why he did that when it hit you.

You were a prostitute, and a hotel like this, it didn't rent rooms by the hour. Being seen with someone like you was probably not something he wanted to be known. And you couldn't even fault him for it. You'd try and hide it too if you were in his shoes.

You pried the thought away, and quickly went back to your witty self. If the man was looking for a good time, then you'd gladly show it to him.

He stopped at the reception desk, while you waited on the side for a couple of moments. After a quick conversation with the woman at the desk, you both made your way towards the elevator. Upon entering, Steve pressed one of the buttons on the panel, and soon the elevator was going up.

The elevator ride was spent in silence one you didn't dare to break. You paid little to no attention to the numbers displayed on the panel, so when the doors opened to the top floor of the building, and the word "Penthouse" sounded from the speaker in the elevator, your eyes went a little wider.

You turned your face towards Steve's and flashed him a smirk. "The Penthouse?" you questioned in a low voice, before you got off the elevator with a careful step, "Fancy." At the end of the long hallway was a set of double doors. When you both stood in front of them, Steve stuck the keycard, and once the little light on the lock turned green, he pushed the door open.

When you entered, your eyes went around the room. Right across from you was a small living area, with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Beverly Hills. To your left was another small living room area, more so a library. To your right, was the hallway leading to the kitchen, with gorgeous brown shades. The rooms were painted in a nice beige color.

"Wow?" he asked, and you barely even spared him a glance, before replying with a "wow" of your own. He snickered and moved to the desk perked up on the right wall. You pulled his suit jacket off and draped it over the couch before you walked around.

"Now that we are here, what are you planning to do with me?" with a soft voice and a gentle touch, you ran your fingertips against the frame of a picture on the wall.

"To be honest, I don't know. I didn't plan this, actually." He lifted his head for just a second before he looked back down. You moved in his direction, and when you reached the desk, you propped yourself against it.

"Do you always plan everything?" he gave you his full attention at that, leaning back in the chair he was occupying. His brows scrunched up a little and he crossed his arms over his chest. His muscles bulged up against his white dress shirt. He looked deep in thoughts for a moment.

"Yes, I was in the army, I kind of had to." That explained a lot. Not only about his physique, but also his character as well. He was a bit quieter, but still a patient person. His composure was like no other you've ever seen, and he looked ready to play with you the whole night if he had to, in more than one way.

"The army, huh? I wonder, what was your rank?" your hand moved over his thigh, then up to his abdomen, where, even with the dress shirt on, you were able to feel the rock hard muscle.

"Captain. I was a Captain," he said it so casually, yet, you were able to pick on the light note of distress and sadness in his voice when he said it. He had mentioned the army in almost the same tone. It was a little strange, but you weren't about to pry. You were there to show him a good time, if he let you, not to ask about his past.

"Well then, Captain. I assume you are good at giving orders?" You pulled at his tie until he stood up from the chair. He was towering over you. His eyes racked over your body in a subtle matter, then settled themselves on yours again.

"I am," he breathed out, his breath hot against you.

"Let's see how good you are at following them, then." You whispered out, and your hands moved down and towards the front of his pants with a gentle movement. You were just about to open his belt when he took your wrists and stilled your movements.

"Why don't we relax first, talk for a bit?" He questioned. You rolled your eyes at him, and let go of his pants.

"Look, Steve. I'd love nothing more than for you to relax, but I'm on an hourly pay here, and you haven't even paid me yet."

"Time seems to be an issue for you, huh?" he crossed his arms again and stared down at you. "How much for the entire night?" he suddenly asked, and you paused for a moment. This man, gorgeous, and calm man, the same one that hadn't let you touch him yet, wanted you to spend the whole night with him.

You blinked a few times, and after you snapped out of your thoughts, you looked at him with wide eyes.

"You want me to stay here?" he nodded, his head tilting to the side a little.

"So, how much?"

"Seven hundred dollars." You declared, and suddenly his face pulled into a half-smile, half-smirk. It was a beautiful sight to see. The bell at the door rang, and Steve made his way over. He opened the door and let the server in. He put a bottle of champagne on the coffee table, followed by a tray of strawberries.

Steve tipped him, before he escorted him towards the door, and closing it behind him. He turned towards you with the same half-smile, half-smirk that colored his face mare seconds ago.

"Done." He concluded and walked over to the couch and sat on it, beaconing you to do the same. You were in for a treat.

Tags:

Everything tags: @funfickgirl22​

Chris Evans & his characters: @patzammit​ @onetwo3000​

#RomComWC #RCWC #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers image #steve rogers au #steve rogers mini series #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fic #marvel au #marvel mini series #marvel angst #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fic #angel in silk #tina writes