#how to get a job as a talent agent

[navybrat817]

Just Like That

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier. Word Count: Almost 5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.

If only that were the case.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.

“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.

You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?

Right.

You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.

Just the two of you.

“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”

“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”

“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.

He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.

Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?

Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.

“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.

“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”

You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?

“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.

He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”

You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”

With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”

“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.

“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”

“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.

Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”

“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.

The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.

Not that you had to do any acting on your part.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.

“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.

The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.

Again, he had to play the part right.

You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.

Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.

And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.

Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.

Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”

You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.

“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”

You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.

Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”

“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”

“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.

“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.

He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”

“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.

“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.

In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.

Just an agent being kind to another agent.

Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”

Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.

Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.

Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”

“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.

Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.

He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”

“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”

He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.

His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.

“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.

“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.

The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”

It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.

“I’m curious,” he shrugged.

“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”

“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”

You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”

“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.

You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”

Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”

Oh, fuck.

The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”

“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”

“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”

Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.

He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.

You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.

You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.

Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.

Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.

“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.

Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-

The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.

And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.

“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”

He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”

“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”

“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”

You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.

He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”

“Why not?”

“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”

“Of course,” he whispered.

You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”

A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”

You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”

Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.

“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”

“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”

He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.

You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.

You never stood a chance.

“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”

Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”

A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.

He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.

Like he wanted to own you.

His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.

Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.

You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.

“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”

You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.

And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.

“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.

“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?

He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”

Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.

His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”

“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.

“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”

It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”

He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.

You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.

“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.

Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.

Crave him.

“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”

Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.

You’d take whatever he gave you.

The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.

“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.

“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.

One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.

“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”

“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”

He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.

You didn't want him to let you go.

“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”

He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.

The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.

You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.

“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.

“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.

Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.

“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.

“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”

“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.

“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”

“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”

“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.

Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”

I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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[cleo-fox]

Close Quarters

Part 1 of 2

Summary: “You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to go undercover at a luxury resort.

The only problem? Your fake husband is Loki Laufeyson—the infuriatingly handsome Norse god turned Avenger who delights in making you flustered. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki.

A/N: there will be a part 2. Also have a handful of related one shot ideas, so if people like this, I may post those. This is also posted on AO3.

Your self-sufficiency has always been a point of pride for you, both personally and professionally. The highlight of your career was overhearing Nick Fury say that he didn’t need to send in a team of people for a mission so long as he had you on the payroll. You are calm, competent, and ruthlessly efficient; you are used to relying only on yourself.

So it comes as something of a surprise when Fury informs you that Loki Laufeyson will not only be accompanying you on this undercover mission, but will also be taking the lead.

It takes a lot to render you speechless these days, but this does it. You gape at Fury for a moment before you’re able to speak.

“You never send me in with anyone,” you say.

“This mission requires a unique skillset.”

You scoff. “He can’t do anything that I can’t.”

Fury raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. “Really? How’s your conversational Sokovian?”

There’s, of course, no argument to be made with this. Your lips press into a thin, hard line. “I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

*

Your job, as it turns out, is to play the part of Nina Pine.

Nina Pine is bubbly and vivacious, the sort of person you’d see in the society pages. She wears designer clothes and owns jewelry that is so ostentatious and expensive that it looks like it must be fake. She is not particularly bright or talented; she is the product of good luck and generational wealth.

Three weeks ago, Nina married Jonathan Pine, who she met six months ago at the home of a mutual friend. Jonathan does something in finance that sounds like it’s just a tarted up version of gambling, but with more complicated rules and less oversight. It is Jonathan’s higher tolerance for risk (and healthy trust fund assets) that has him considering an investment in KorolCo, a company owned by Ivan Litvinchuk. Litvinchuk uses KorolCo as a front to launder money from illegal arms deals.

Loki would be going undercover as Jonathan. Your new husband.

You are not particularly happy about this little detail (a detail that Fury mysteriously failed to mention when you met with him), in no small part because Loki has already started leveraging it to annoy the shit out of you.

“How are you already this annoying when we’re still in prep?” you say after a particularly exasperating meeting.

“I’m simply overcome by my love for you,” says Loki with a cloying faux sincerity that makes you yearn for the sweet release of death.

Fury, you note, is suspiciously unavailable during all of this. After ignoring three of your (admittedly lengthy) emails on the subject, he sends you a frustratingly short reply:

Do your job, Agent.

Maybe you’ll take up meditation.

If there’s a bright side to what appears to be a massive clusterfuck in the making, it’s that you’ll at least get a free vacation of sorts

The mission will be taking place at The Indigo, an absurdly expensive and exclusive hotel on a private beach not far from La Jolla Cove. The Indigo is the sort of place that you’d only read about—the kind of hyper exclusive resort that is only ever mentioned in damning Pro Publica reports about the questionable actions of high ranking public officials. Rooms start at fifty thousand a night and you are staying in one of the suites, which likely costs more. Your room information was included in your briefing materials and it all sounds too good to be true: a soaking tub and waterfall shower. Private terrace with an infinity pool. Private bar. In-suite chef and spa services by appointment. Ocean view.

One Norse god who delights in irritating you (non-negotiable).

You suppose you’ll try and make the best of it.

*

The first problem is your sleeping arrangements: there’s only one bed. Granted, it’s a big bed, but still—it suggests a level of intimacy that you had not thought about and are not at all prepared for.

“Well, Agent, this isn’t how I envisioned taking you to my bed, but I suppose it’ll have to do,” says Loki on your first evening there.

You chuck a pillow at him, which he easily dodges.

“Keep it up and you can magic yourself a pillow and sleeping bag and sleep in the hall,” you say.

“Even if that were an appropriate accommodation for someone of my rank and title, I rather think it would do some damage to our cover.”

He has a point and you don’t like it. You decide to ignore him and start getting ready for bed.

The pajamas that had been packed for you are a little fancier than what you’re used to—satin and lace instead of cotton tees and shorts. Normally, you’d relish the opportunity to feel a little fancy—it’s an unexpected indulgence, a splurge on the company dime.

But with Loki now thrown into the equation, you are suddenly hyper aware of the fact that the fabric will likely cling to your curves, that the hem of the skirt is just a little too high. You choose the most demure one of the lot—a pale rose colored thing hemmed with lace—and head to the bathroom to change.

Even with the matching robe, you still feel a little awkward and oddly nervous. You avoid looking at Loki—if his gaze is lingering on your legs or your hips, you don’t want to know about it right before you hop into bed with him—and go about your normal routine. You manage to have a relatively normal conversation about your plan for tomorrow and you read a couple chapters of your book before you start to drift off.

It’s a king sized bed with plenty of room, but somehow you wake up perched near the edge of the bed with Loki pressed up against your back.

He’s got one arm wrapped around your waist so that you’re pinned against him and the deep, even breaths brushing against the back of your neck tell you he’s still asleep. You’re pretty sure this must have been unintentional on his part: Loki doesn’t seem like the sort to willingly allow himself to be seen seeking out human contact. It’s too vulnerable, too soft for the sharp and sarcastic veneer he presents to the world.

He shifts slightly in his sleep, his grip on you tightening. Something hard pokes against the curve of your ass.

You can’t help the responding ache between your legs. You should feel embarrassed—and you do, just a little—but there’s a competing feeling of warm curiosity that makes you press your thighs together. It’s been a while and you miss being held like this. The silk of your nightgown is cool and slippery against your skin, and you feel oddly restless and alert despite the early hour.

You should put a stop to this—that is the professional and sensible thing to do. So you carefully lift his arm from your waist and gently extricate yourself from his embrace. You pad to the bathroom, leaving the light off to spare your eyes.

In the bathroom, you run the tap as cold as it will go. You cup your hands and drink before splashing some water on your face in an effort to quell the restless heat building between your thighs.

It doesn’t really work. You’re not entirely surprised—if you were by yourself, you would simply take care of it, but that’s obviously not an option now. Out of curiosity, you slip your fingers between your thighs to assess the state of things and you immediately regret it: you’re soaked and just the feeling of your index finger glancing against your clit is enough to undo the admittedly minimal effect of the cold water.

You splash your face again and shut off the tap, taking a few deep breaths and smoothing your hands against your hair.

You exit the bathroom and slide back into bed. Loki reaches for you in his sleep and you are only half surprised when you let him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. The throbbing ache between your thighs intensifies and before you can think about it, your back is arching and your breath is hitching.

He pulls you closer and suddenly his breath is warm on your ear. “You know, if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, only a little husky with sleep.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, even as your back arches again and you press yourself against him.

Lips press against where your neck and shoulder meet. “But you want it.” His fingers toy with the hem of your nightgown. “Yes?” he asks, his voice husky against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Agent.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Agent.”

Your eyes flutter open. Loki is standing at the foot of the bed, hair wet, and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s eight o’clock,” he says. “You need to shower and dress if we’re to make it to breakfast on time.”

It takes you a moment to process this information. Partly because he just woke you up from a sex dream about him and partly because wearing only a towel should be fucking illegal when you look like that. You try to keep your eyes trained on his and not let them drift to his flat stomach where you can see a faint smattering of chest hair that gathers in a line that trails directly to his cock. And definitely not to any of the muscles that are on tantalizing display and dotted by drops of water that are begging to be licked away. Nope. Not looking at any of that. Just at his devastatingly handsome face. 

Fuck.

“Agent?”

You shake your head. “Sorry. Bit groggy this morning. Finish up what you were doing and I’ll go jump in the shower.”

He gives you a bit of an odd look, but mercifully walks away without further comment. 

This gives you an opportunity to stare at his broad back as he walks away. Goddammit, even his ass looks good in that towel.

Fuck.

You have a feeling this is going to be a long week.

*

It’s only day one and it’s becoming clear to you that you are not really prepared for some of the practicalities of being Loki’s wife.

Specifically: being the primary focus of his flirtations and little gestures of affection. His hand on the small of your back, his fingers lacing with yours, the brush of his lips against the back of your hand or the shell of your ear—it’s all a little overwhelming in a way you don’t expect. It was one thing when he was razzing you in your prep meetings—he was quite clearly doing it to be irritating. But at The Indigo, he has to appear sincere for your cover and that particular detail makes it a different beast entirely. 

The fact that both his regular appearance and the blond-haired, blue-eyed glamor he’s adopted for the mission are both devastatingly handsome certainly doesn’t help. Nor does the additional baggage of your sex dream this morning.

Unfortunately for you, Loki quickly ascertains that he now has a great and novel way to fluster you. Equally unfortunate is the fact that he seems to find this as hilarious as he did back in prep meetings, which prompts him to be only more outlandish.

“Are you trying to sabotage this?” It’s later that afternoon and you’ve gone down to the pool with the plan of schmoozing with Litvinchuk and his associates. Loki has clearly decided that this needs to be more difficult than it is and has fully committed to the bit, as they say.

(You’ve also gotten very good at whispering threats under your breath and making it look like you’re flirting; the timing of this is not a coincidence).

“I don’t know why you’re so distraught about sunscreen,” says Loki, rubbing a generous amount between his palms.

“It’s not the sunscreen, it’s that you’re going to find some way to be inappropriate about it.”

“I’d never.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“You wound me.” He places his hands on your shoulders and begins rubbing in the sunscreen, going much slower than you think is strictly necessary. “Perhaps this trip is merely bringing out our natural chemistry.”

“You wish.”

“Is it the hair that does it for you, Mrs. Pine? Do you have a particular fondness for blonds?”

“Do you have a fondness for being murdered in broad daylight? Because that’s the fate you’re headed towards, buster.”

He tuts at you as his hands slide to the small of your back. “Temper, temper. You really need to work on that.”

“Have you considered working on not annoying the ever-loving shit out of me?”

His breath is suddenly warm against your ear. “Now where’s the fun in that? And before you answer, be advised that Tarasevich is looking right at us.”

Fuck. Tarasevich is the most suspicious and paranoid of the lot—years in the Sokovian mafia paired with recreational drug use will do that to a guy. You turn so that you’re facing Loki. He looks at you fondly, looking for all the world like a loved up newlywed just smitten with his new wife.

“One of these days, I’m going to drop kick you into the motherfucking sun,” you say in the sweetest voice that you can muster.

“Now, now, Mrs. Pine, let’s keep the foreplay in the bedroom.” He rests his forehead against yours, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “There’s such a thing as public indecency laws, you know.”

You sigh heavily. “Why are you like this?”

“Oh, because it’s so much fun.”

“Is he still looking?”

“Yes and I’m going to kiss you to put him off, so do try to contain yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

You catch a flicker of a smile before he leans in and brushes his lips against yours. You intend for this to be brief, but his mouth is so warm and inviting and before you know it, he’s gently coaxing your lips open and leading your tongue in a slow and seductive caress that has your mind drifting straight to the gutter.

His hand slides to your thigh and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it.

“Ah, Pine. Mixing business and pleasure, I see.”

You pull back from Loki to find Ivan Litvinchuk standing in front of you, wearing the smug, congratulatory smirk that you often see men like him trading with one another when they think they’re getting somewhere with a woman.

“Normally I try not to, but I’ve found it rather impossible these last three weeks, haven’t I, darling?” Loki takes the opportunity to loop his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, nuzzling your neck.

You give a good natured laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone would fault me when I have such a tempting little wife.”

This, paired with the squeeze of his hand on your thigh, sends an unexpected rush of heat to your cunt. Fortunately, the effects of this are quickly tempered when you notice that Litvinchuk is eyeing you rather appreciatively. The wardrobe team has really outdone themselves with your clothes, but the swimsuits they’ve sent are definitely more revealing than you are used to—today’s choice is a bikini with a split sweetheart neckline that dips a lot lower than you’d like and a fucking underwire in the top. Underwire! The bottom is no better—it’s both low rise and high cut, the perfect way to ensure that half of your ass is exposed at any given time. Even in the matching translucent cover up—which of course you’ve left on the chair that Litvinchuk is standing in front of—you feel a little more bare than you’d like, a fact that Litvinchuk seems to be appreciating, if the path of his gaze is any indication.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Pine,” he says, his eyes flicking briefly to your cleavage.

You expertly tamp down your disgust and smile at Litvinchuk before turning around to bat your eyes at Loki.

“You are, aren’t you?” you say, twining your arms around his neck and planting a brief, chaste kiss on his lips.

He gives you a dazzling smile that’s so sincere it makes your stomach flip. “Very much so.”

Another squeeze of your thigh, more heat to your cunt. Fuck.

“Well, Pine, when you are ready to discuss more business—” Here he switches to Sokovian.

This is the part you dislike the most about this particular mission: whenever anything of substance comes up, Litvinchuk and his cronies immediately switch to Sokovian, leaving you in the dark.

To add insult to injury, Litvinchuk still seems infatuated by your cleavage.

Litvinchuk says goodbye a few minutes later and you manage to bite your tongue until he’s out of earshot.

“I really don’t love the fact that he spent half of that conversation sneaking looks at my boobs,” you say quietly.

“Well, to be fair, they do look spectacular,” says Loki. “I’ll have to send a thank you note to the wardrobe team for that.”

Heat stirs hopefully and unhelpfully in your hips at that comment.

“This is what I meant by being inappropriate, you know. Did he have anything interesting to say?”

“He’s invited me to a game of cards this afternoon.”

“Do you need me for that? I could go try and talk to the wives, see what I can find out.”

“Originally, I’d thought no, but since dear Ivan seems so enamored of your assets, it might not be a bad idea to have you come along.”

You sigh. “How am I now at the point in my life where letting an illegal arms dealer stare at my tits is a fucking mission objective?”

Loki laughs quietly. “We’ll keep that out of the final report.”

*

The card game ends up being a lot worse than you thought it would be. And not because of Litvinchuk’s wandering eyes.

They’ve set up the game on the pool deck tables and chairs. As best as you can tell, it’s a Sokovian twist on a combination of rummy and poker. You’re not the only woman at the table: a few of the other men have their girlfriends or mistresses draped over them like strange human scarves, though their roles seem to be largely decorative.

Loki makes a big show of pulling you into his lap, saying how he just can’t bear to be apart from his new wife for terribly long.

“Ah, young love,” says Mikhnevich. “I remember when my Irina and I were like this.”

“Now she begs for him to leave the house!” says Litvinchuk. There’s a hearty round of laughter—it’s not a particularly funny joke, but you suppose that’s one of the benefits of moving up in the world of crime: people will laugh at your jokes because they’re afraid you’ll kidnap their families or something. It’s all very dysfunctional.

Loki makes an effort to teach you the game, but Nina is not the sort who pays very close attention to that kind of thing, so you find yourself giggling and letting him steal kisses or whisper in your ear as he explains some strategy or another.

There are several problems with this arrangement. The first is that you are positioned on his lap in such a way that you can feel his cock nudging your ass or your thigh, depending on how he’s sitting. And it’s close enough proximity for you to ascertain that he is long, thick, and semi-erect.

The second problem is his thigh; specifically, how it presses against your cunt, how every time Loki leans forward to draw a card, he inadvertently rocks you against the firm muscle. Each time, it feels better than the last; each time, you clench and ache and talk yourself out of riding his thigh until you have a screaming orgasm right on the pool deck. Each time, the idea becomes more and more tempting.

The third problem is his hands. Specifically, where and how they are wandering. He plays it off like it’s unintentional, like he’s just absently fidgeting with the part of your suit that lays against your hip or idly drawing lazy circles on your thigh. You can’t help but think that it must be calculated. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours intentionally trying to drive you crazy–there’s no way that he would pass up an opportunity to play his little games without you scolding him or rolling your eyes.

The fourth problem is that the first three problems are turning you on a lot.

Your clit seems to swell with every pass of his fingertips on your bare skin, no matter how casual. It drags against the slick material of your swimsuit every time you shift on Loki’s muscular thigh. You can feel yourself growing slicker and slicker with every moment. Eventually, it becomes too much and you try to shift in his lap, crossing your legs to give yourself a little relief.

This does exactly nothing useful. Instead, your movement causes his cock to twitch against you, which only escalates your growing arousal. He hooks the elastic of your suit at your hip onto his thumb and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. His expression is playful when you look up at him, but there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

You are throbbing, your cunt practically weeping with slickness. And you’re pretty sure he knows.

And you’re pretty sure you don’t mind.

You lick your lips.

He hooks his thumb back into your suit at the hip, and this time he leaves it there, his fingers splayed along the curve of your hip. It’s casually possessive and ridiculously hot and the polar opposite of helpful.

He definitely knows.

Your heart is pounding. Can you go into cardiac arrest from being too turned on? You wish you could use Google. At a minimum, some sort of visual equivalent of a cold shower would be helpful. Pictures of Henry Kissinger or something. Budget reports. Taxes. Anything to get your mind off your aching cunt and the mess that you’re making in your swimsuit.

“I think you could do with a bit of a lie down, Mrs. Pine.” Loki's voice is low in your ear. “You seem…warm.”

You would have thought that Loki knowing about your current state of arousal would be cause for humiliation, if not irritation. Instead, it only seems to add fuel to the fire, especially with the way he’s talking to you. You’re not sure how he’s doing this, but it feels like his fucking voice is vibrating in the cradle of your hips, sending a fresh wave of slick arousal to your dripping cunt.

“Yeah,” you say. “Very warm.”

It’s perhaps a testament to your current state of mind that you can only manage this sentence and not some smart remark.

“Would you like my help with that, darling?” he asks. The phrasing is innocent, but the question is loaded. And sincere. You take in a shaky breath. You know all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but you also can’t bring yourself to say no. He may be wildly irritating, but you suspect he’s likely a good fuck…and you really need to be fucked.

You nod. “Yeah…I’d like that.”

“We’ll go up to the room after this game ends,” he says. “And then I’ll take very good care of you.”

It takes everything in you not to whine. Fuck. You didn’t think it was possible to be this wet, this turned on. 

Loki shifts slightly, pulling you close against him, his cock now fully erect and pressing hard and thick against your ass. 

“Do you feel me?” he asks, his lips grazing your ear. “Do you feel what you’ve done?”

You nod and wiggle your hips slightly, partly to situate yourself and partly because you want a little bit of payback. His grip on your hip tightens.

“I’d advise you not to play games, little wife,” he rasps in your ear.

More heat builds in your hips. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on. Maybe never. You throw a look at Loki over your shoulder. “It’s not a game,” you say. “I’m just very warm.”

His eyes are dark. “Burning up, I suspect.”

“You have no idea.” You lean back against him, turning so you can nuzzle your face against his neck. God, he smelled good. “Please,” You say it so quietly that only he can hear, “I’m aching.”

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and you feel his cock throb. He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take my leave a little early—Mrs. Pine is feeling quite unwell.”

Fuck yes.

If Litvinchuk and his men suspect there’s anything untoward about your departure, they don’t say so—and you imagine you must look a little unsteady anyway. Loki slides an arm around your waist as you leave.

“Now Mrs. Pine,” he says once you’re out of earshot, “tell me exactly what ails you.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“I only want to ensure that we are on the same page,” he says with a smirk.

“Like hell you do. I already told you, you just want to hear—” You cut yourself off, realizing that you’re playing right into his hands.

He smiles like a cat with a bowl full of cream. “What do I want to hear, darling?”

You press your lips together. This is infuriating.

“I’m waiting…”

You blow out a shaky breath. Fuck it. “You just want to hear me say that I’m fucking soaked because you’ve been rubbing me against your thighs and touching me for the last two hours and if I don’t come soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

He smirks as you approach the hotel lobby. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear you say all that.”

“You absolutely were.”

The air conditioned air in the hotel lobby feels extra icy against your sunwarmed skin and your sandals seem to clack particularly loudly against the marble floors.

“You have a smart mouth, do you know that?”

“You like it,” you say as you approach the bank of elevators. “That’s the reason why you pull half of this shit with me.”

“Perhaps.” He gives you a smile that feels a little dangerous and sends even more heat to your aching cunt. “But do you know what my favorite part of your smart mouth is, Mrs. Pine?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The elevator door opens. It’s empty and your cunt clenches at the possibilities this presents.

“My favorite part about your smart mouth,” says Loki in a low voice as you step into the elevator, “is that it will sound that much sweeter when I make you beg for me.”

The elevator door slides closed and you barely have a chance to react before he’s backing you up against the wall and pressing his thigh between your legs.

“You’re a disobedient, wicked tease, Mrs. Pine,” he growls, sending a thrill through you. “I think you could benefit from a firm hand.”

“You like it,” you breathe, rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to capture some of the same friction that was driving you wild earlier.

“Rutting yourself against my thigh in public like a common slut,” he purrs. “You must be desperate.” He slides a hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your bathing suit. His expression changes the moment his fingers dip past the fabric—almost like he expected you to be wet, but not this wet.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs as you keen. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?”

“I need to come so bad,” you gasp.

“I know you do.” He reaches over and slams the emergency stop button and the elevator shudders to a halt. “And you’re going to. Right now.”

“I can wait until we get to the ro—”

He spins you around and pulls you to him so your back is pressed against his chest.

“No, you can’t.” He curls his big frame over yours, sliding his hand back into your bathing suit and stroking the full length of your sex and making you cry out again. “You need it too badly.” He starts rubbing your clit with his middle and index fingers. “And I don’t think it’s going to take all that long, darling,” he growls, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, “because you’re already so fucking wet.”

There’s a small, distant part of you that resents the fact that he’s right about anything, let alone anything pertaining to your orgasms.

The larger part of you is focused on the fact that he’s right: you’re going to come and you’re going to come hard.

Your legs are shaking and you brace your arms against the elevator wall to hold yourself up. You moan loudly and arch your back as the feeling starts building in your hips.

“You need this so badly, don’t you?” He nips hard at your earlobe. “You’re desperate for it. I felt you tense up every time your sopping cunt rubbed against my thigh, every time I touched you just right.”

You whimper, pressure rising in your hips as you rock with his hands.

“You’re so close,” Loki purrs in your ear. His hips are thrusting mindlessly against your ass, like he can’t wait to be inside you.

“Fuck, I need to come,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m going to make you come, darling, but I think what you really need is to be fucked.”

You moan as your orgasm starts to crest.

“You need to be fucked properly and hard,” he murmurs. “You need me to take care of your sopping wet, needy little cunt. You need to be filled to the brim with my cock and my come like the good girl that you are. You need to come over and over on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”

This is what pushes you over the edge. The muscles of your cunt clench and then pleasure is blooming in your belly as the tension of the last two hours comes to a peak and you come hard. You cry out, your hips rocking against Loki’s hand, chasing the shimmery aftershocks.

“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. He holds you as you shudder and shake, his fingers still moving, still coaxing out those final waves of pleasure. But just when you think he’s about to pull his hand away, he starts massaging your clit again, one long finger slipping inside you.

“You don’t think you’re going to be satisfied with just one, do you?” he growls in your ear. “Not a needy girl like you, not when you’ve been dripping for hours. You need more, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck—” You can feel that pressure growing again and you know it’s going to be different this time.

“You’re going to come for me again, pretty girl,” he purrs. “And this time, I want to hear you scream.”

Everything is coiling up so tight and tense and suddenly two of his fingers are inside of you and they’re curling just right and the edges of your vision go white as everything inside you fizzes and releases and a sharp cry falls from your lips as you come.

“Good girl,” his voice rumbles low over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

His hand finally stills once the final aftershocks roll through you. Your legs are shaking, but his grip on you is still firm. Boneless, you turn to him and he presses his slick fingers past your lips. You suck and lick his fingers clean and then he’s kissing you, sucking your own essence from your lips and tongue.

“Fuck,” you breathe as the elevator shudders to life. “Fuck, that was so good.”

Loki laughs quietly and scoops you up into his arms as the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, darling.”

Continued in Part 2

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x yn smut #loki x y/n #loki x yn #loki x you smut #close quarters fic

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . you both knew you would never be able to be together — so you had to take the shot, even if it would be the only and one time.

warnings . smut! I am not responsible for your content consumption! bottom! Natasha, soft sex, praise kink (?), cunninglingus, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, forbidden love, Red Room trope in general, non graphic violence, implied sexual harassment (Dreykov), cursing, angst.

notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so I apologize for any spelling errors. feel free to leave any advice though!

disclaimer: they're both 18, before the graduation ceremony.

highschool sweethearts thing because I'm a simp for it. ^^

divider credits: @benkeibear

"Love is for children." they'd say, "love is a weakness." so how the hell did you manage? Natasha wondered, how did you kept the facade, even with all the things that happened between you, in secrecy from the rest of the widows — from Madam B, and from General Dreykov?

Because even her, one of their best widows, was starting to lose it.

Ever since the beggining, you were the most ruthless, emotionless, cruel widow they had. You couldn't remember your life before the Red Room, because it never existed. They took you from your parents when you were 2, and your training started by the age of 4.

You could swear you were born like that — cursed, without a heart. You never cared for anyone, for anything. Your only task was rob, torture, kill. Because the apple doensn't fall far away from the tree.

But somehow, that girl still managed to change you.

When Madam B put the redhead as your opponent, was when your whole perspective of life, of being, changed. God, you hated her. She had everything you ever wished to have — the longing for a family, the care for people, the gentleness. That showed whenever you went on a mission together — it wasn't a part of her characters, it was herself. When she spoke to you about Yelena and how she tried to protect her, when she took you to the dark warehouse to take care of your bruises.. especially when she insisted on covering your ears and mumbling a russian lullaby to muffle the sounds of the other girls screams in the night.

She taught you what love was. And that made you want to kill her. To kiss her. To tear her apart. To make her scream, and not from pain.

Dreykov always made it clear that romance, or even the slightest display of affection would result in severe punishment, or worse, execution. That was because he knew that the widows would never be able to find a partner outside his walls, so finding that need between each other was the only way out.

Yet, Natasha and you had an advantage point — you were the best of the best, the most talented widows. So first: he wouldn't suspect anything, and second: he couldn't kill his best agents. It would be his loss.

That's how she became your little secret. You were an hell of an expert, because you never let your feelings get in your job. Neither did Natasha, but it still shocked her.

It started with a simple peck on the lips by the age of 13, in the farris wheel of the amusement park you were undercover. Your cart was the one on the top, where you could see all the atractions from, and no one could see you. You tried to convince yourself it was just teenage curiosity, but it still led to that.

The hotel room of Belgium, Brussels.

You never knew the simple mission on breaking in a bank was gonna lead to that.

Natasha did everything in a rush, knowing that you could do it smoothly, but just to be able to spend a little more time with you. Like now.

You sighed deeply, leaning against the sink's counter and looking at your reflexion in the mirror. The cut on your forehead was stinging a little, but you decided not to pay attention. The redhead walked in the bathroom, just not expecting to see you only in a black lace bra and the black tights of the vest. You heard the click of the door, but showed little emotion. "Hey, Red."

"Oh, Y/n..." she whispered, her eyes searching for yours, wanting to know if you wanted her to leave. You gave her a shake of your head and a small smile. She walked through the door with a soft exhale. "I already settled the guns and all the weapons. I also wrote the reports, in case you're wondering."

"You spoil me too much," you smirked tiredly. "You do all of that just to have me a little more, don't you?"

Your joke made her look down a little. "Yes," she whispers.

"You do?" you raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to affirm. "Well.. we still have 5 hours before they retreat us, so.."

"Your forehead," Natasha cuts you off, frowning in concern, rushing to check on you. Her hands went to hold your shoulders as she studied the cut — she only realized your lips parted and your gaze at her when she felt the straps of the bra beneath her hands.

"It's fine," you whispered, clearing your throat. Natasha looked away for a brief second, before looking into your eyes again.

"It's not, let me patch you up—"

You shook your head, placing your hands on her waist and leaning in, shutting her up with a long, gentle kiss. You pulled away and met Natasha's dreamy gaze, her eyes a little disoriented.

"Y/n..." the redhead mumbled, her eyes fluttering close and her head dropping to your shoulder, as she sighed.

"God, the way you look out for me makes me so weak." you chuckled, your palm rubbing her back, fingernails grazing her skin. "You know you don't have to do that. I can take care of myself just fine."

"I don't care," she said, lifting her head again to get herself lost in your eyes once more.

The graduation ceremony was coming soon, and you couldn't care less about that — but with her, it was different. You both knew what the ceremony actually meant, and Natasha was scared. She didn't want her dignity off her. And not knowing how to deal with this, she just wanted to protect you, in a way to comfort herself, her heart.

"It's gonna be okay, Natalia," you smile, planting a little kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's not gonna be the first surgery they perform on us. Besides, I'm gonna be with you as soon as you're back on the dormitory, okay?"

"It's just," Natasha gulped, her arms wrapping around herself. She was thinking far, of the future. "Who's gonna want a woman who can't even do the basics? Who's gonna want a woman who can't give birth to a baby?"

"Me." you simply said, placing your hand on her cheek, Nat immediately leaning into the touch. "I will. Because when we're out, we're getting married." you giggled. "Wasn't that our promise 4 years ago, when we were 14?"

Natasha's eyes snapped back to you. It was clear she didn't want to think of that as a joke — she had to show you how much she felt for you. And she wanted- needed you to reciprocate her. So she completely forgot of all the damn rules. She grabbed the back of your neck, and unintentionally pushed you up against the wall, kissing you with urgency.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but fluttered close again as the shock vanished. Your hands went to hold her waist again, tightening as you felt her press herself against you.

"Nat..." you whispered against her lips, breaking the kiss. She looked at you, her lips grazing yours again, your noses brushing.

"It's our only chance," she whines. "We were pleasure toys for men since we were little, can't we have something real for once? Before everything falls apart?"

Your breathing hitches as she says that. You let your eyes close, guiding her backwards and outside the bathroom, towards the bed.

"It's forbidden, but who the fuck cares? Who knows if we're not getting killed someday, or if Dreykov send us to different bases and we never see each other again?"

"Natalia," you shake your head, shakily breathing. "Everything I've done, everything I did was for one reason — having you by my side."

Natasha whimpered, sitting you down on the bed and standing between your legs. "Y/n, I want to see you."

"Then do it." you replied with no hesitance. "you're the only one who I'd consent to, Natalia."

At this point, you swore you forgot everything else than how she slowly unattached the hostler from your hips, pulling the tights and panties down and breathing rapidly by the sight of you semi-naked in front of her. Before she could do anything else, you stood up, hand moving to zip down the tight suit they made you wear. Natasha whined, leaning herself into your hands.

"So impatient," you whispered, finishing with the zipper and removing the fabric of her body, taking your time to do so. She held your shoulders and let you slip it down her legs — along with her panties, which she wasn't expecting. Natasha gasped quietly as the air hit her core, making you smile softly and stand up again.

"Darling," you cooed, hands moving to her back as your face found shelter on her neck, gently nibbling and kissing there. "you're so pretty it hurts,"

"Y/n," the redhead almost moaned, tilting her head back to grant you more access. She felt the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders and bit her lip as her breasts were freed, the lack of the tight clothing giving both of you an immense relief. In a moment, your lace lingerie was gone too.

"You're so gorgeous..." you whispered in her ear, your fingers tracing all the scars on her body, which you were sure you already had memorized. "And you are mine."

"Yes," she nodded, wrapping her arms around your waist. The skin on skin contact from someone she actually trusted felt too good, too much. "Yes, yes I'm yours."

Natasha then gently sat you down again on the edge of the bed, taking your breath away as she kneeled down in front of you, her hands gently pushing your knees apart and holding them open like this.

"God," she whimpered, leaning her face to slowly press kisses on your inner thighs, your back arching a little with the contact.

You took a moment to look at her dreamily, your slender fingers going to tangle in her red hair and play with it softly. "Lyubovmoya, (my love,)"

Natasha swore she could cry now, from the intense emotions building up within her. She couldn't wait anymore. So she did just that — diving into you, her mouth finding your pussy, her tongue inside you, tasting you, savouring the sweetness reserved only for her.

"Fuck, malyshka, (baby,)" you moaned, the sensation of being filled by someone who wouldn't harm you almost sending you over the edge already. "Yes, just like that,"

Natasha whimpered softly, licking the juices that were already spilling out of you, her tongue moving in circular motions against your clit.

"Nat," your head tilted back, hips bucking against her face as your climax approached. "I'm coming, Nat, I—"

She moaned against your folds as you came, licking all of your arousal, her tongue fucking you through your orgasm. After a while, she pulled her head back and looked up at your face.

"You're so fucking beautiful between my legs like that." you murmured breathlessly, smiling in bliss. Natasha blushed, you could tell she really liked your praises. "Are you really ready for more?"

"This is such a bad idea," she lifted herself from between your legs and smiled weakly, straddling your thigh again and gently pushing your back against the bed. "But the best we'd ever have."

You giggled, crawling further back the bed and laying your head on the pillow, your hands pulling her on top of you. Natasha thought of everything but that.

"Y/n," she bit her lip, getting a little shy. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"Don't be a hypocrite." you smirked softly. It wasn't going to be the first time she had suffocated you with her thighs, one of her combat skills. "Let me taste you too."

Natasha carefully placed her hands on the headboard, lifting herself up and lowering her thighs around your head, so hesitant. You gently squeezed her flesh and pulled her flush against your face, making her gasp a little in surprise. In a second, she felt your tongue inside her. So that's how it felt.

"Oh my," she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly, as she slowly started to grind herself against you.

You moved your hands up her thighs, to her hip bone, running your fingers across the bullet scar she had there. There was no doubt that, of all the Red Room academy, Natasha was the one who most took the harshness from Dreykov — sometimes for punishment, for the so called reward for being a good widow, or even to protect you. So she deserved all the sweetness and care she could get, for once in her life.

"More.." she breathed, her eyes looking down at yours — not expecting you to be so skilled, looking closely at her as your mouth worked on her. Your eyes smiled at her, and she felt it.

"Such a good girl," you whisper, sending vibrations all over her body. You then inserted two fingers inside her, carefully laying her down on the bed and hovering your lips against hers. Not kissing her, yet. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll marry you. And I'll scream to the world that you're mine."

"Y/n," she cried, feeling a warm tear roll down her cheek — not knowing if it was the pleasure only, but also her emotions.

"I feel so lucky," you smiled, so softly, lips brushing against her cheek as you spoke. She giggled, her arms circling your neck. Natasha moaned as she felt your fingers brushing continuously against her g-spot, as if you knew her better than herself, and you did. "I would give the world to have you in my arms, and I have it, and I'll never let you go."

"Say that again." the redhead begged, bucking her hips against your hand.

"I'll never, ever let you go." you repeated, feeling her legs starting to shake. "Even if I have to die for that."

"If I die..." she whispered, and suddenly, a wave of arousal washed over her, and she threw her head back, her cum all over your fingers. You gently fucked her through her orgasm, and then licked your fingers.

Nat gripped your back, her fingers digging into your skin. You rolled over the bed and pulled her on top of you. She looked like a baby now, so innocent, so precious. She clinged to you, wanting more of your safety, of your love.

Yes, love. And it didn't matter if she was considered a child now.

"I-if I die," she continued, her voice so so small. Your fingers ran through her hair, through her red locks. "At least I had one good thing in my life. You. You're the only fucking good thing I ever had, Y/n. And I'll take you in my memories forever and ever."

"I love you, Natalia." you said with conviction. "I'll love you in my every reincarnation, in my every life."

That's when you heard a loud bang in the door. The tracker, the wire.

"Goodbye, princess." you held her tighter, as she buried her face on your neck.

"See you soon."

Everything went black. Two widows terminated. Two shots fired.

Dreykov would have to train two other girls to replace you, and it wouldn't be easy.

At least you were free now. And had to hope you'd be married with two kids and a picket fence for the next time.

#natasha marvel #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff soft smut #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #marvel #incorrect marvel quotes #lgbtqia #the avengers #Spotify

[squadmuse]

NSFW ALPHABET

THE SPENCER REID EDITION

A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Spencer loves post-coital cuddles so much. He’ll also give you a good massage, having read on the different techniques and memorised it all so he could give you some great aftercare if sore. Spencer also loves bubble baths - fight me on this.

B - Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s body)

Spencer isn’t the most confident about his body but he likes his hands, as he knows you do (you also love his taut ass too) and can do some wonder with those fingers especially. On you, well Spencer is tied between your breasts or your neck, the latter because he loves snuggling into the crook of it.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum basically…)

Spencer prefers cumming into a condom, unless you’re trying for a baby. He does however lose his mind when you suck him off and let him cum on your face.

D - Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Spencer is the king of phone sex, even though he is a known technophobe. He loves phoning you up from whatever city or state he is in and whispering the dirtiest of words to you…

E - Experience (how experienced are they, do they know what they are doing?)

Spencer isn’t that experienced, but he’s memorised the Kama Sutra and a lot of other NSFW material that he can have you experiencing mindblowing orgasms one after another.

F - Favourite Position (again, pretty self explanatory…)

Spencer is tied between doggy-style or cowgirl. He loves having access to your breasts and ass and hips.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment or are they more humorous?)

Spencer can have the goofiest moments with you during sex and he isn’t against pulling a magic trick on you either. But he has moments where he’s determined to try out a new position or toy on you and he’s focused so much.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Spencer is somewhat groomed down there.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? Are they romantic?)

Spencer is very romantic and affectionate. He’s never loved someone as much as he does you, nor has he ever been loved by someone like you do him… he is devoted to you and shows it wherever he can.

J - Jack Off (masturbation…)

It happens more so when Spencer is away from you and needy, or in the shower. He doesn’t like bothering you if you’re tired or asleep.

K - Kink (what are their kink/s?)

Spencer loves leaving marks on you and sometimes leaves numerous hickies across your body as he worships you. He loves doing role play with you too, whether it’s geeky or more sexy. Spencer also enjoys phone sex, you in lingerie and edging too. He has a slight breeding kink too.

L - Location (where are their favourite places to do the do?)

Spencer, while he is an FBI agent has a bucket list of places he wants to have sex with you at. Airplane bathroom, his university office or lecture hall… he’s got to try them all.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, what gets them going?)

Spencer loves you in lingerie like so so much. He gets so hard so quickly if you tease him by showing the lace of your bra or silk thong or satin thigh-high stockings.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs?)

Spencer will never ever degrade you or hurt you, he never wants to see you cry or sore from him in the wrong way.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill etc)

Spencer is a fan of blowjobs, he can cum so quickly from your talented tongue. But he does love giving you orgasm after orgasm as he eats you out.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough, soft and sensual?)

A man of science, Spencer measure each other with skill and decisiveness that leaves you ruined whatever way it goes.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often etc.)

Oh Spencer loves a quickie! Sometimes you need him there and then or him for you, and each time he’s raring to go. Also with the unpredictable nature of his job, sometimes a quickie is all he has time for before flying off somewhere.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Spencer again is a master of facts and figures, the probabilities of getting caught or not… but that doesn’t mean he isn’t against getting a little risqué with you…

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

Spencer puts in a lot of foreplay and can go about two rounds of sex with you. He will hold off orgasming so he can have you cumming multiple times.

T - Toys (do they own toys, do they use toys? on a partner or themselves?)

Spencer isn’t experimental on himself but he loves trying new and different toys on you. He loves handcuffs and vibrators in particular.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Spencer loves to tease you nonstop, he has memorised every single thing that gets you bothered and he can read you like a book he knows inside out.

V - Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make etc?)

Spencer is so vocal! Dirty talk, groans and grunts amongst whispers of appreciation and random sexual facts.

W - Wild Card (random headcanon)

Spencer is surprisingly dominant in the bedroom.

X - X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thin, veiny and long just like his lean frame. Spencer is also circumcised too.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Considering his job, Spencer has a slightly above normal sex drive. He can’t get enough of you when he’s home with you, and as they say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Z - Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

Spencer usually waits to make sure you’re asleep and content before drifting off to sleep himself.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds

[enchantedbarnes]

Recommendations 💖

I've been wanting to do something with recommendations for ages now, but there's just too many to even know where to begin! Here's a chaos list of past and present faves 🥰

Completed fics

Undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either. 

Lumpy and Bunny masterlist by @sweetdreamsbuck

Pairing: beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

Sweet and Sour by @sashaisready

Pairing: Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

Summary: You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

While you're over there you might as well check out ...

Under the Radar by @sashaisready

Pairing: Nick Fowler x reader

Summary: Reader is a brilliant but shy and awkward CIA employee whose work is often overlooked by her colleagues…she’s blended into the background for so long that she doesn’t think there’s any other way - even if she does have secret aspirations for another life. Unbeknownst to her - a certain blue eyed agent is very aware of her talents, even if nobody else is.

The Thrill of the Hunt by @rookthorne

Pairing: Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The ancient game of cat and mouse, a fight for survival between a predator and their prey, wasn’t a new phenomenon – it had been practised for centuries and it was an art that very, very few perfected. For years you had chased the craving to find someone that had mastered the art of the hunt, and for Halloween, you had gone all out and visited a haven unlike any other.  It was there that you found your match.  Cloaked in nothing but black and shrouded in a sense of lethality, you would have to run from this shadow in an adrenaline fuel haze unlike any other. A chase for the ages, the very one you desired.  And if he caught you, your world would end as you knew it.

The Lookout by @mymoonagedaydream

Pairing: ParkRanger!Bucky x y/n

Summary: It was amazing, really, how quickly one person managed to turn your dream job into a living nightmare.

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad.

Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together by @golden-barnes

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Pairing: Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Summary: Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Classylo's masterlist

home for the holidays by @classylo

When your family begs you to come home for the holidays and to bring the new guy you’ve been seeing, you don’t have the heart to tell them your good-for-nothing-ex cheated on you… good thing your roommate is available and will do absolutely anything you ask.

should've been you by @classylo

He was supposed to meet you at the game. He was supposed to be the one you went on a date with. He was the one you were supposed to fall in love with. Yet, here you are three years into a relationship with another… it should’ve been him, not his best friend.

Moral of the Story by @justkending

Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, a tragic and heartbreaking divorce, the two now despise the other for how the whole thing was handled. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Everest by @justkending

Summary: She was done and retired. After Thanos and the battle of a lifetime, she called it quits and distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep, not leaving much room for a no… Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Coming in Hot by @nexusnyx

When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be. Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem. A hot, polite, gentle, and silent-type of problem. Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.

Pairing: Mechanic Bucky x Reader

Though I Have Never Read by @tuiccim

Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: You had run away from all of your problems and found solitude in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. When a storm blows in, it drags a man with a metal arm through your door. Offering shelter, you spend one night together before he disappears. Years later, you find yourselves together again but does he remember that night or you at all?

Blink Twice by @simmerandwrite

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong?

teach me how to love by @buckyismybicycle

Pairing: DAD!BUCKY X TEACHER!READER

Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her.

Sweet by @noceurous

summary: it was something cliche but your fuck buddy fell for you nonetheless, even though you swore you would never do relationships again. But rules are meant to be broken.

call me when you want by @bonky-n-steeb

summary: when you call a sex hotline with a need to be dominated you don’t expect to meet (or hear) someone as wonderful as James. but your life becomes a complicated mess as you already love your coworker, Bucky Barnes. however, you are unaware that they are actually the same person.

Part 1 & Part 2

Grow Old With Me by @sonderosa

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

...you could wait fifty years if he asked it of you. You’d promised him that, and he’d smiled and kissed you, told you that in fifty years he wanted to be old with you, sitting on a porch in rocking chairs and watching the sunset. You wanted that, too; it was a beautiful dream.

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x Fem!Personal Assistant!Reader Summary: It's your first international trip working for bestselling author Tony Stark as his new personal assistant, and you're desperate to prove yourself worthy of such an incredible opportunity. But when things start to go wrong whilst staying in Dublin, and suddenly you're stuck in the middle of the Wicklow Mountains with a flat tire, you're convinced that you'll be fired before the day is over. Luckily, a handsome, blue-eyed mechanic with an accent that makes your insides melt comes just in time to save the day.

Sweeter Than Honey by @foreverindreamlandd

Their other series are also *chefs kiss* -> go read the rest of @foreverindreamlandd's series

Love at First Grade by @buckysimp101

Pairing: Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader;  Teacher!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Summary: When father and first grade teacher Bucky Barnes ends up with Avery L/N in his class, the daughter of the “ruthless” CEO of L/N Enterprises, he's in for a surprise that's sure to change his life.

Teacher's Favorite AU by @suitk0via

Pairing: Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

Summary: You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine's favorite teacher and Bucky's just gotta meet you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The Heart is a Deep Ocean by @dreamlessinparis

Summary: Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Pairing: ex-military amputee!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Something Domestic by @fandoms-writings

Summary: Needing an escape from the loud and busy city life, Bucky comes to stay with you on your little farm. He didn’t expect you, a hardworking and beautiful woman with struggles of your own, to take his breath away and make life a little less dreary.

Labyrinth by @frostironfudge

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, (Modern AU)

Summary: labyrinth (noun), a complicated set of paths and passages, through which it is difficult to find your way. Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends.  A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

nostalgia for the new by @real-jane

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader shield agent

summary: bucky meets you because of your exquisite taste in music, and he finds in you a solace he didn't realize was possible. you create for bucky something he's never found before: nostalgia for a time that hasn't happened yet, and hope for a future where he might be loved.

Ongoing fics

Honey Girl by @violentdelightsandviolentends

Pairing: Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Summary: The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

After all those years by @ziawbarnes

Pairing: AU Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Peggy and Steve's wedding in Mexico takes an unexpected turn when you and Bucky, who initially couldn't attend, end up joining the celebration. With no available rooms, Bucky becomes your roommate for ten days, leading to unexpected adventures and new connections.

Fresh Start by @nicoline1998enilocin (on hiatus but I love)

Pairing: Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: In this universe you can explore the story between Bucky Barnes as a middle school teacher, and Y/N with her son Luca. They just moved to the other side of the country, and have decided to completely start over their lives. On the first day at his new school, Luca quickly befriends his new teacher, and Y/N can't help but take a liking to him as well.

A Past Encounter by @majesty-madness

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to the 1940's, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Neighbors by @writerlyhabits

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: You get to know your neighbor across the hall, James.

Unexpected by @repressedqueen

Paring: SexWorker!Bucky x reader

Summary: After a crazy night out celebrating your birthday, somehow you ended up outside a brothel debating on whether it was time for you to finally have sex or not.

My Little Love by @crazyunsexycool

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Fem! Reader

Dr. Feelgood by @endless-summer-soldier

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

Pairing: Teacher!Reader x Single Dad!Bucky

Untitled Single Dad!Bucky Fic by @angie-likes-to-art

Summary: You made a promise to yourself to not sleep with any parents before starting teaching, little did you know the guy you slept with two days before is the dad of your cutest student.

Too much love to choose from, here's some creators with masterlists you need to check out! ❤️‍🔥

@navybrat817

@jobean12-blog

@coffeecatsandcandles

@metalbuckaroo

@wkemeup

@nickfowlerrr

I love and appreciate all of you 💕 thank you for all your hard work 🥰

Happy Reading!

XO

(Dividers by saradika)

RECOMMENDATION LIST #2 CAN BE FOUND -> **HERE**

#fic recs #fic recommendations #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #my recs

[maarigolds]

Lucy, Lockwood and George, after everything.

(show edition. I'm not going by book canon for this one, so don't worry about spoilers)

At 21 or 22, Lockwood is the first of them that starts to lose his talent.

Which makes sense, since he's the oldest. At the beginning he refuses to even acknowledge it, but Lucy and George figure out what's happening soon enough. For a while he's just ashamed and angry and sad all the time. Then it gets better: Lucy and George get him trough it. He also calls Kipps, and they talk for hours, both coming out of it feeling almost at peace (Kipps has gone back to school and is talking about wanting to become a teacher. Which Lockwood feels like should surprise him, but actually doesn't). 

Lucy is next. It breaks her heart a little (because of skull and all other type 3s) and it scares her a lot. But then she realizes how soothingly quiet the world can be at times, and lets herself think that maybe she will be alright. 

George is last. And the thing is, even though it saddens him to lose the one thing that connected him to ghosts, mainly he's relieved. He's been waiting for the other shoe to drop for a while, and now that it has, he's ready for whatever may come next.

The jobs get more and more rare as they hear, see and feel less and less. Lockwood knows he could hire new kids to replace them, but in truth he doesn't really want to. Perhaps Lockwood & Co. can be laid to rest at last: after all, they've already achieved more than he ever dreamt. So the next time a client calls, he informs her they've shut down and gives her the name of an up-and-coming independent agency he's heard great things about. He only feels mildly guilty about it. 

Even if they're technically not his employees anymore, George and Lucy stay. They don’t talk about it, but the idea of moving out of Portland row and living lives that aren't intrinsically intertwined feels wrong to all three of them: they're a family, after all, and nothing has to change about that.

Still, they need to make money somehow. So they muse about going far away from London, opening a bakery, living in a small house by the sea. But in the end they stay, both in the city and line of work they're used to. Because they do belong there, it's undeniable. George, of course, goes into ghost research and becomes a leading voice in the field, discovering new ways to help agents all over the country. No one is surprised, but everyone is proud. Lucy one day shows up at Barnes' office to ask him about becoming an inspector. It's the last thing either would have expected, but when he asks her why, she says it feels like the best place to be to help kids like her. To stop people like Jacobs. So he gives her a job. She's determined to change things from the inside. Barnes thinks that if someone could, it's her. And Lockwood... well, it takes a while for him to figure it out. But one evening Lucy comes home talking about a kid left deeply traumatized by a job gone wrong, and suddenly he knows. The next day he calls the bank to open up a pro bono clinic for agents and ex agents in need of psychological treatment. After less than a week they already have their first client. 

Slowly but steadily, it becomes their new normal. 

Lockwood sets up a study in the room on the stairs and works mainly from there. George, on the other hand, works at a lab in the City: he is the first to leave in the morning, but he always comes home soon enough to cook dinner. Lucy keeps slightly more irregular hours, and sometimes her job keeps her away for longer than she'd like. But then again she occasionally gets to come home to the adorable view of the boys fast asleep in front of the tv, so that's good.

One day Flo brings them a stray cat she found while working: they name him Donut and spoil him way too much.

Lucy starts gardening. George grows a magnificent beard (Lockwood is not jealous of it). The fridge breaks down and they have to buy a new one. Airf's son replaces him at the shop. They put up a hammock in the backyard, and spend their vacations piled into it. Mrs Burke from across the street knits them all hats for Christmas. Lockwood adds new framed articles on the walls and new knick-knacks on the bookshelves. 

He's not sure when, but one day 35 Portland Row stops being the home his parents left behind and becomes his home. Their home: his, and Lucy's, and George's (and Donut's. And Kipps' when he comes over for lunch on Sundays. And Flo's when she swings by using her own keys. And Barnes' when he stays for tea after long work days).

So they keep going as they have, day after day, year after year, slowly growing older. Wounds heal and scars fade. The sun shines through the kitchen windows on summer mornings. The smell of persian food fills the air every evening. Old rapiers get dusty in the umbrella stand. There aren't any ghosts between their walls, both real and metaphorical.

Everything is alright.

#def wrote this with a cot3 mindset but it can be read as platonic #still #they're in love your honor #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #george karim #lucy carlyle #poly co #locklyle #georcy #georgewood #cot3 #💙🖤🧡

[blainesebastian]

co-stars

words: 2,475 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @lovvelylivv) “hidden co-star relationship“ where austin and female reader are doing press tour 4 elvis and the interviewer is like low key flirting w her and austin is clearly jealous but he can’t do anything bc they’re not public yet.  notes:  masterlist posted here!  warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell

It just sort of happened, that’s what you tell your closest friends.

You’ve been in plenty of films before to know the drill—showing up, doing your job and doing it well, going through the motions of before and after a movie wraps, the interviews, the parties, the events, the awards. You know for the most part what to expect.

But what you didn’t expect was Austin.

Your agent comes to you with this great opportunity, to be in a film that’s not quite a biopic but something more than that, a story that needs to be told and shared about Elvis Presley. You’re not quite sure how you fit into this thing or even if you can carry out something that’s so important to this man’s legacy. But you’re a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and so when you get the part from your audition, you know you’re not going to take anything for granted.

Working with Austin is just the icing on the cake. You knew of him from similar circles, but you didn’t understand how incredibly talented and dedicated he was until working with him firsthand. Not only that but he’s extremely humble, thoughtful, and sweet. Not only was running lines and scenes with him easy, but he also became a fast friend that you could talk to about the film, the industry and just general things you’d been going through.

You knew Austin had lost his mother when he was younger, he’s always been rather open about that with regards to his Elvis role, but you don’t quite have the words to be able to say how much he was there for you when your dad got sick. Right in the middle of filming too. So much of your world was spinning off it’s axis and Austin was the only person that made things slow down, still. Your father eventually got better, but it was an incredibly rocky few months and you don’t think you would have made it through without having someone to lean on.

So it’s only natural that a month or so after that, you two started seeing one another.

At first it was just kissing—electrically charged moments leftover from emotionally vulnerable states, the connection you two felt over shared experiences, shared pain. But it obviously blossomed into being something more than that because your feelings didn’t have anything to do with finding an escape.

Kissing turned into spending the night, which turned into dates, which turned into introducing friends and family—even though your father already knew Austin well from all the time he visited in the hospital. The relationship is serious, yet very private. Both of you know what it’s like to have your lives turned inside out by Hollywood, to constantly being under the microscope of the public eye and…you both want to focus on what’s important, which is right now Elvis and all the hard work you’ve put in over the years.

Your relationship is your business and yours alone, Austin agrees that there’s a time and place to go public. For now, it’s minimal PDA that doesn’t go beyond close friends and the real intimacies behind closed doors. Austin’s a gentleman naturally, so most of the time his mannerisms towards you are easily explained.

It makes sense, though it doesn’t mean it’s always easy.

You walk out of a small back room to an interview space, mostly a red-curtained area that has the ELVIS movie logo behind two tall chairs that you and Austin are going to sit in. You’re not mic’d yet, so small conversations are able to be had as everyone else runs around to get ready for the interview. You give Austin a small smile, his hand along your lower back as you walk to the chairs,

“You gotta help me climb onto these things.”

A soft laugh rumbles in his chest and well, these chairs are slightly awkward. They’re elevated from the ground but especially if you’ve got heels on? You kinda got to hold onto someone else as you hoist yourself up and get situated.

“What would you do without me?” He teases, holding onto your hand and helping you up. “You good?”

“I think,” You shimmy around to get comfortable, adjusting your blazer that you paired with black skinny jeans and black studded heels. Austin’s just got a simple black t-shirt on, pleather pants but…the man could wear grocery store paper and still look great.

“Don’t be fallin’ over in one of these things.” His hand lingers along your hip and brushes your arm as he moves to take the chair next to you and you try not to think about how easily he adjusts with his long legs. One is bent just slightly as his heel rests on a rung of the chair.

“Right, would hate for you to show up at my mom’s house tonight for dinner without me.” You grin, voice an octave lower just in case.

Austin smiles, licking his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, “Your mom loves me—she probably wouldn’t even think twice.”

You snort, shaking your head. Honestly…that’s a bit true. Guaranteed she probably made an extra special dessert or something for him since she knows he’s coming to dinner. You straighten your shoulders as the interviewer comes out behind the red curtain, sitting in the other chair. A slew of other people follow, putting mics on both you and Austin, makeup people padding a few spots on your faces and finally asking if you’d like water or anything else to drink.

The interviewer’s name is Max and he’s this really chill guy from Brooklyn who has his own YouTube channel and podcast and you’re able to talk with him a little bit before getting started, cameras being turned on and intros being swept out of the way. Max does a great job at ping-ponging the questions back and forth to you and Austin, which you really appreciate. Sometimes you’ve been in interviews where questions are mostly for Austin—and that’s totally okay with you, but half the time you’re not even asked a second question in a half hour or hour span of time.

Austin makes sure you’re always pulled into the conversation though too, somehow turning questions about him, his craft, or his experiences, to loop you right into responding. It constantly makes you want to lean over and kiss him on the cheek for being so thoughtful. Max balances the questions out without being prompted, which makes the interview far more interesting to be a part of.

“So, I just gotta pause and say, Y/N, you were incredible in the film,” Max says, “I mean, just as often as I was blown away by Austin, I was astounded with you as well.”

You smile, still not used to taking compliments but you’re always appreciative to hear them. Your cheeks flush a soft pink and you can feel rather than see Austin smiling too in your direction, that sort of proud awe look he’s reserved for you many times over.

“Thank you,” You curl your hair around your ear, “It’s definitely a marathon race kind of movie, twists and turns, all good things though, astounding experiences.”

“What was the most difficult part for you?” Max begins to ask but then touches the earpiece he’s wearing, “Oh wait—hold on. Seems like we’re getting feedback from your mic. Sorry about that,” He stands from the chair, “Gonna need to switch it out.”

“Oh,” You look down, beginning to unclip it from the blazer you’re wearing. Austin picks up his water during the small break, taking a sip as Max gets another mic and helps you switch it out. Your hands brush as you exchange mics but you’re having trouble pinning it back on the lapel of your blazer without it falling.

“Here—let me…” Max trails off, stepping into your personal space. You can see Austin out of the corner of your eye watching, but trying not to, the interaction. You’ve gotten pretty well at sussing out Austin’s body language in this time together, as he’s come to know yours, so it’s clear that he’s not thrilled with how close Max is standing to you.

Though maybe it wouldn’t have been half as bad if Max would have kept his mouth shut.

“Sorry we interrupted your questions,” His fingers loop the mic chord underneath your blazer a bit, “Mic must have short circuited from your beautiful voice.” And while that is definitely the cheesiest line you’ve ever heard to flirt with you, it’s harmless.

Austin, however, definitely rolls his eyes.

You smile lightly, not wanting to be rude when there’s still an interview to get through. “I’m sure that’s not the case—I didn’t have enough caffeine today so maybe it can pick up on me screeching a little.”

Max laughs, pulling back, “Trust me—you got the whole beautiful package goin’ on.”

Austin clears his throat, loud enough that it seems to get Max’s attention and reminds him about what they’re supposed to be doing. He smiles in your direction again and turns to go back to his chair. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth at Austin’s displeasure and while Max has his back in your direction, you quickly rest your hand along your boyfriend’s thigh and squeeze comfortingly. Austin’s hand covers yours, a quick motion as he readjusts himself in his chair, both of you back to normal when Max sits down again.

The questions continue seamlessly, that same back and forth action to talk about specific scenes, musical numbers, costumes, the whole nine. Towards the end though, Max kind of hesitates before another question comes out,

“So, Y/N, I just want to ask—we know your dad got sick in the middle of filming and I was just wondering what kind of effect that had on you as an actress and how that might have impacted how things were handled on set.”

You pause for a few reasons—for one, it is astounding to you that interviewers, no matter how unassuming they may be, can just presume they can ask really intimate and personal questions right at the drop of a hat. Luckily this isn’t live, so they can stop filming if need be, but also the fact that you don’t want to act like some sort of diva that randomly leaves interviews just because you don’t like the question. Secondly, you can feel Austin bristle beside you even though he doesn’t say anything, his face remains neutral other than a muscle in his jaw clenching, and you can see the sharp line of his shoulders where he was relaxed before.

He does not like the personal direction the question is in either.

“Uhm, well—” You trail off for a moment, trying to figure out how best to respond to this. While the question seems alright on the surface, it’s worded incredibly obtuse in a bunch of ways. It’s obvious having a sick dad had an effect on you as an actress, why does that need to be addressed?

Austin, sensing your discomfort, moves his hand to touch your wrist, “Hey maybe move on from that question man, that’s her dad—there’s other things you can ask her.” He’s already a bit riled up from before, so there’s an air to his voice that he’s putting his foot down, this is not a conversation.

You can feel yourself let out a slow breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, unable to find the exact words to either respond to the question or tell Max you couldn’t talk about it. Obviously your story ended up good, your dad is fine, on the road to recovery and getting stronger every day. But that doesn’t mean what happened is easy to talk about, or anyone’s business either. It’s out there, clearly, because Max felt comfortable enough to ask about it…but you really appreciate Austin jumping in like that.

Max at least has the decency to look embarrassed, nodding his head, “Of course, my apologies—we’ll cut that.”

Austin’s thumb runs back and forth along your wrist as they continue to film, a few more questions finishing up the interview.

He doesn’t remove his hand.

--

Once the interview is over and you’re in the back of an SUV, pulling out into traffic, you can feel the full force of frustration coming off of Austin’s body in waves. He’s rarely the type of person to get angry or irritated for long stretches of time, but clearly Max has gotten underneath his skin. You let him have a few moments to himself, looking over some texts from your mom about dinner. Eventually you reach over and settle your hand on his, running your thumb along his knuckles.

“I’m okay,” You want to assure him that you’ve definitely been through worse lines of questioning in your career but you’re pretty sure that’s not going to help. “Max was just overeager—I think interviewers start worrying that they’re gonna end up askin’ the same type of questions everyone else is, so some of them overreach.”

“He did not know when to quit; not to mention the amount of flirtin’ he was doin’ while fixin’ your mic,” Austin’s voice has this twang to it when he sometimes talks too fast, when he’s wound up, leftover voice impressions from Elvis.

You smile just a little, can’t quite help it, “You know…I consider jealousy a base emotion but it’s actually kinda hot coming from you.”

Austin turns his head to look at you, his eyebrows drawing together as his visibly struggles with his next words. A laugh bubbles in your throat, slipping out of your lips and instead of saying anything, he moves to grab onto you, tugging you across the center seat and against his chest. You’d attempt to move if you really wanted to, but you don’t, grinning as you tilt your chin back to look up at him.

“No one’s jealous here.”

You purse your lips, reaching to cup his cheek. Running your thumb down along his lower lip, you reply, “No of course not—not at all.”

He presses a kiss to the pad of your thumb, settling back into his seat. He’s relaxed a bit since you first got into the SUV, the harsh line gone from his shoulders, his eyes a calm blue instead of a restless sea.

“Just protective.” He mumbles and your stomach flutters at the warm sentiment. “Next time I’m tellin’ interviewers like Max exactly what’s on my mind.”

You laugh lightly before kissing him, stealing as much time as you can alone. Knowing how polite Austin is, you understand that probably won’t be the case, but the words mean just as much anyways.

--

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you liked it :) thanks to everyone who read, if you’d like to be added to a general Austin x reader masterlist, please let me know!

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

[zer05trange]

Roaring Sea

I. Hermes

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ chapter summary: After an inexplicable rush, your second favorite customer comes in for the second day in a row.

⋆｡°✩wc: 1.6k

⋆｡°✩content warnings: none

⋆｡°✩ series masterlist (there is a prologue before this part!!)

Your day began as most did. After waking and freshening up, you begin baking bright and early for the weekday ahead of you. For a relatively new business, you have a decent amount of customers each day, and with little to no negative feedback. It feels nice, especially since starting a business in the service industry was known to be very difficult.

However, today, you are slammed. 

Everyone and their mother is visiting your bakery, the small building space was packed for what seemed like hours. You had to get your one employee, Ivan, in early to help out, because this sort of rush was not something you could tackle alone. People were lined up at the back of the door, and each booth and table were full. And when a table isn’t occupied, it's being cleaned for the next customer to take.

The room surrounds itself with a bright and warm ambiance with many conversations filling the air, and it's enjoyable, though it may be overwhelming as all hell. Ultimately, watching people enjoy your food and your space never fails to cap your heart with fulfillment, regardless of how stress-inducing it could get.

The oddest part of the rush is that you're having loads of Fatui agents visit your shop. You've served your fair share of Fatui before, but never at this caliber. Usually, they were aloof and curt. But today, you could almost say they were polite to you, most even tipped a few extra mora with their order. You were mulling over the phenomenon as the fifth pyro agent of the morning walked up to your counter. 

“What can I get for you?” You smile up at a agent with his hood and mask covering his face.

 “I need a slice of praga cake. Oh and a slice of apple cake, both to go?” He asks, his voice almost... timid.

“Of course, is that all you want?” You ask as you pack up his two slices of cake.

“No,” He exchanges his money for your goods, “Thank you ma’am.”

Once placing a generous tip on your counter, he briskly leaves the shop. That, much like many other interactions that day, left you in a stunned state. Not only had a Fatui agent called you ‘ma’am’ and left a large tip, but he seemed more nervous than their usual stoic demeanor. 

After a while, the rush slowed, with fewer Fatui agents making their stay in your bakery. Must be time to do shady government business in the Tsaritsa’s name, you think. You begin cleaning up the dining area, picking up plates and glasses, as well as sweeping up excess crumbs on the ground.  

“Ivan, could you please ice that cake?” You ask your employee as you return behind the counter, “I’ll let you off early when you’re done.”

“Yes ma’am,” The boy responds attentively as he turns around toward the baking counter. You observe him for a moment, observing how his talent surrounding baking has improved since he began working for you. Ivan came in begging for a job just a few short months ago as a way to make an extra buck during the weekend, and you remember not necessarily needing an extra hand at the bakery. But the teenage boy seemed like he needed the funds, promised to work hard, and hasn't let you down.

It's days like these where find that nothing else brings you more peace than crafting for others, serving them something that you are proud of and that they love almost as much as you do. The tranquility that you found within your bakery was like no other, and besides the stress that came with the rush, you were truly grateful for it.

What you couldn’t pinpoint was how the rush started. You ponder over how it could be possible, you didn’t boost your advertising recently, and it wasn’t a holiday nor was it a weekend. Though thankful, you can’t get over your confusion.

Hours passed by, Ivan finished his shift a while ago, so you were left alone to fend for yourself. By now, the rush had long passed and you only had a few customers coming in at a time, so you weren’t too concerned about working alone. You're finishing refilling the shelves when you hear the doorbell of your bakery, signifying someone entering your shop. 

You look up before greeting the customer, only to be met with the same unforgettably cold eyes that you served last night. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tartaglia,” You quickly flash a smile before getting back to work placing pastries into the display case.

“Mister? Do I seem that old to you?” He asks, a friendly smile back on his lips. 

“No, I’m just being formal with my customer,” You push yourself up to meet his eyes.

“Is that all I am to you? A customer?” He puts a hand over his heart and displays some sort of mocking tone, “ I thought I made a better impression than that, Ms. Y/N.”

You lean in over the counter to the man, close enough to be able to whisper, “Do you talk to everyone like that?” 

Tartaglia swallows, stiffening up ever so slightly.

“No, just the ones who make Snezhnaya’s best apple cake,” He answers back, just as quiet as you were. 

You scoff yet again as you push away from him, “Is this your way of getting food from me? Like the little stunt you pulled last night?”  

Before you can humor him any longer, you find yourself cutting a slice of cake for him, and ignoring his existence otherwise. 

“Speaking of, I have something else for you,” You say before taking off upstairs. His face molds into one of confusion, holding a plate of warm cake while you disappear. 

You come back down a few moments later, and his eyes fall on the pouch of mora he gave you. Before he can object, you place the pouch into his free hand and return back to the counter.

“Did you not like my peace offering, Y/N?” He asks, and the way his name rolls off your tongue makes you feel a little flushed.

“Peace offering?” You cross your arms and snap back at the man.

“You’re snarky, лисичка. I thought a little tip may extinguish your unbridled hatred for me, though it seems I’ve failed,” He says back, taking a seat facing the counter. You giggle at his last statement, his dramatization of your feelings pulls a chuckle out of you. 

“Giving me nicknames already? After like… 24 hours?” You ask him, “You’ve got stones.”

It was his turn to laugh before taking a forkful of cake to his mouth, and then making an ‘mm’ sound out of satisfaction. He continues scarfing down his dessert, though his eyes keep watch on you. Specifically, where your vision sat on your hip.

“Do you put that to use?” He asks, his hand pointing to your vision. 

“Sometimes,” You brush off the question, “I take commissions occasionally, usually when traveling.” 

He smirks at that, and you don’t miss it. 

“Do you use yours?” You ask back and watch him nod in pride, you hum at his nonverbal response, “We should spar sometime, though I’d probably smoke you.”

You notice how his demeanor perks up even more, his sudden excitable emotion is slightly scary. His happiness in response to your offer was frightening, to say the least.

He already carries an almost mischievous aura with him, and you begin to think that play-fighting with him would be a mistake on your part. Or it could have come off as flirting to him, which you definitely do not want to take any part in.

“I have to get going,” Tartaglia says as he begins to stand, “Tonya wanted me to hang out with her for a bit tonight.”

He makes his way toward the front counter, closer to you. 

“Oh no!” You respond in a dryly sarcastic tone, “What a shame.” 

He scoffs at you as he places his elbow on the counter, with his head in his hand. He looks up at you with an over-exaggerated frown and a puppy-dog demeanor. “Sooo…” He taps his other hand on the counter, “When are you going to teach me how to make that cake?” 

You cock an eyebrow at him with a hand on your hip, not having it with him, “I’m not giving you my recipe for free.”

You turn away to begin cleaning your miniature oven, and expect him to leave. Yet you don’t hear any sort of movement behind you. You quickly turn back around with an exasperated sigh and look straight at the man, who’s position didn’t change.

“I’m not leaving,” He says in a sing song tone.

“Let me think," You snap back.

Teaching him how to bake something would have to be after the bakery closes. So it would just be the two of you. And he’d be so annoyingly him that you’d probably have to recharge your social battery for the next three days following that. Also, you don’t want your kitchen secrets unveiled to anyone. And, ultimately, you’re smart enough to know that this whole thing has nothing to do with an apple cake. But, it would get him to stop pestering you at the moment. 

You look up from the desert case and straight into his cold, cerulean eyes, “I'm free two nights from now.”

You see the edge of Tartaglia’s faux frown sprout up into a small smile as he stands up with his hands held onto the edge of the counter. He remains hunched down enough to where his face is in line with yours. And as if he was accepting a challenge, he begins to part ways with you for the day. 

“I’ll see you then.”

 ⋆｡°✩translation: Лисичка- it’s a term like “fox” or “little-fox”

⋆｡°✩a/n: hiiiii!!! I want to get the next chapter out soon, and i hope y'all enjoy this one! i hope you are all doing well <333 thank you for reading

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123

#childe x reader #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n #ajax x reader #childe tartagalia #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #fatui x reader #genshin impact fatui #x reader #female reader

[inkblot22]

Can You Keep A Little Secret?

JFC this took me longer than usual I'm so sorry anon. I sort of explained it before, but I didn't exactly use your prompt, based on ineptitude on my part. After I finish reading Oshi no Ko, I might try again! Line divider by @/cafekitsune.

This fic is aimed towards sort of everyone, but the reader possesses afab features (they don't come into play until later, this chapter has no mention of them.) You'll understand what I mean by it being for everyone if you read the first paragraph or so. It has to do with suspending your belief/ employing your imagination.

TW for: lots of confusion, semi-shy reader, creep behavior, mention of death, mention of lobotomy/grippy sock jail, reincarnation. These warnings will get worse, and this takes place when all characters are 18+.

Waking up was never your favorite part of the day, but that feeling increases tenfold when you wake up in someone else’s body. You know for sure you didn’t look like this last week, and the name on your ID is similar to your own, but you don’t recognize the face in the mirror. Whoever you’re inhabiting has a few similar features to your own, but your skin was never this dewy, your eyes never so… hollow and strange. 

When you looked up your name, you found out that you, or your body, at least, had died in your sleep. When you looked up the name on that ID, you found out that you’re the child of some big business man and a prolific model, and you apparently dabble in acting. Your dad isn’t your dad, but he calls you every night to make sure you’re settling into your “new” apartment. Your mom isn’t your mom, but she has popped by once or twice to ask you how you’ve been and make you really good food. She mentioned last night that your acting instructor was worried, since you hadn’t attended your Thursday classes, and also that your agent has been trying to contact you. You didn’t know you had an agent.

When you called your agent, who was literally just titled “Agent” in your new phone, she sounded relieved then irritated, chiding you for living the high life too fast. She said you weren’t popular or loved enough to go on week-long benders, and then she mentioned that she had a job for you and she’d see you on Thursday. According to this phone that isn’t yours, Thursday was tomorrow. 

You made a night of getting prepared- slathering on the fancy face masks, trying on various outfits, scrolling through the pictures on the phone of your new body in the past, painting your really gorgeous nails- and then you went to sleep and woke up to a phone call from your new dad. 

“Hi, sweetheart!”

“Uh… hi, Dad…” You mumbled. You didn’t know him from Adam, but there was no point in being rude to him.

He pauses, and then he speaks slowly, “Did you hear from your agent, honey?”

“Yeah- yeah I did, uh, I have acting class in a little, and she said she has a job for me.”

“Oh, I’m glad to hear it! You know you can always visit me if something is wrong, okay? Just call me or Devin and he’ll come get you as soon as possible.”

You don’t know who Devin is, but you don’t point it out, “Of course. Thank you, dad.”

There was another pause. This one stretches out for a while and then he mumbles, “Okay… love you, sweetpea.”

“Uh… love you too. I’ll call you when I get back home?”

“Sure thing. Bye bye.”

The call ends with a click and you hop in the shower, trying to scrub away the confusion. You pair the lotion with a body spray that makes you smell like a summer afternoon in an apple orchard, and then you dress yourself in a soft off the shoulder sweater dress with a pair of tights with little sequins and gems sewn onto the sheer black material. You pull your hair back, tied at the nape of your neck, and roll on some lip gloss. You grab your bag, which isn’t your bag, and stroll out, walking down the street to get to the talent agency.

The receptionist looks at you in some measure of shock and greets you kindly. You smile and wave. He looks even more confused as you clomp into the stairwell. Once you get to the third floor, mildly out of breath, you hurry to room 3-5 and silently slide into the back.

You’re not sure why you’re acting so covert, as the class hasn’t even started. A woman with dark hair strolls in and flinches when she sees you sitting there, your new name tumbling from her lips with confusion.

“Hello.” You hope that she’s the instructor, “How are you?”

She looks at you like you grew two heads and forces a smile, “Oh, I’m well, dear. Give me a moment to look outside.”

She clicks to the window in her heels and opens the blinds looking around wildly before she turns back to you.

“Well, nothing’s on fire and there’s a distinct lack of flying pigs, so I guess you’re finally serious about getting better at acting?” 

“Uh… I…?” You don’t know how to respond, “I didn’t realize I’d been late so often.”

“Late? Half the time you didn’t even show up. The only person worse than you is-”

The door behind you opens. You clench your hands to stop the shaking you just realized you were struggling with, and turn slightly in your seat to see a willowy young man, tousled lavender hair being haphazardly smoothed by his slender hands.

The instructor snorts, “Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Felmier.”

He smiles, but it’s a bit too calculated. When he speaks, his voice is soft, almost artificial, “Ah ha… Good morning, Angie.”

Angie, evidently, rolls her eyes and takes a seat at the front of the room, crossing her long legs, and tilts her head skeptically, “Sure. If a satellite doesn’t crash in this room and kill us all in the middle of class, I’ll be shocked.”

“Mr. Felmier” walks over and smiles at you. It seems even more strained than before, and keeps eye contact with you as he points to the chair next to you, his voice high and sweet, “Mind if I sit here?”

“Oh, of course not. I don’t own that chair, haha!” You joke. 

His face twitches, some micro expression that you’re just observant enough to notice, but not to see, and he takes a seat. Angie gets up and leaves and you look out the window. You can feel eyes on you, and when you turn to look at him, his face is impassive save for a slight narrowing of his eyes. You look down at yourself and pat your cheeks, suddenly nervous.

“Oh, no, is there something on me?” You ask.

He doesn’t immediately respond, his eyes blinking so fast that if he hadn’t done it twice you would have never seen the movement, and then he gives you that sweet, plastic smile, “Oh, no. Your makeup is different than usual. It looks nice. Pretty.”

“I- I’m only wearing lipgloss, so I guess that’s why. Thank you.”

He nods slowly, and tilts his head, still smiling as though he’s trained to do so, “After we’re done here, did you want to go get brunch together?”

You’re about to say no. You don’t remember him, because this is not your life you’re living, but if you did know him, you’d decline anyway. Something feels funny about him. You don’t really have to decline, though, since you have to go down to floor 2 and see your agent afterwards anyway, “Oh, uh, I’m so sorry. I have to do something after.”

“I can wait.”

“I don’t want to put you out. Maybe another time?”

His eyebrows pinch together ever so slightly and his smile doesn’t strain, but it feels wrong as he leans his elbow on the back of his chair to better face you, “Did you hear the news from Mirelle?”

“What news?” You don’t know who Mirelle is.

“Oh, you’re meeting with her afterwards, aren’t you?” He smooths the hair along your temple so it is slicked behind your ear, “Are you wearing that perfume I got you? You said you hated it.”

Okay, so whoevers body this was definitely knew this man, and now you don’t even know his full name. Judging from the way he’s speaking to you, you were friends at least. Your lashes flutter and you look away from him.

“I- I’m sorry. It smells very nice.” You don’t know how you’re supposed to be acting. The irony of waiting for an acting class while not knowing what your role here happens to be is not lost on you.

Felmier sits up like you insulted him and his voice is quiet, so quiet and tense that you don’t think you’re supposed to hear him, “Interesting.” 

You glance at him again, “What?”

“I didn’t say anything. You like that bagel place down the street, don’t you? After you see Mirelle, meet me in the lobby. I think we should have a chat.” Although he is smiling, his voice doesn’t leave any room for argument as he turns back to the front. 

You stand up, leaving your purse in your seat, and walk to the window, looking out of it for a moment until Angie strolls back in. She clicks her tongue and you walk back to your seat.

“It’s just you two? Now I’m really expecting a freak accident. Well, let’s get started.”

Acting class was… interesting. Since it was just the three of you, Angie had you read lines from a script and act out some kind of argument. She seemed pleased with your performance, but Felmier kept stumbling over his lines and making the wrong expression. He seemed tense by the time the two hour long session was over. You didn’t want to follow that thread, and besides, you had somewhere to be. You went down the stairs again and bumped into a woman with silver hair, who looked at you just as confused as everyone else had been, and smiled sweetly, genuinely.

“Hey, you. You’re a bit early.” She says.

“Uh, yeah. I guess so? I don’t know.” You guessed this was supposed to be Mirelle, your agent, maybe. 

“It’s a good change, babe. Why don’t you come into my office?” She doesn’t really ask, since she’s already leading you over.

She takes a seat behind her desk and you take a seat in front of her, and she taps away at her computer for a moment before she says something.

“You remember Epel? Epel Felmier?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh? You ‘guess so’? Not that the two of you are constantly arguing, or anything.” She smirks, glancing away from her monitor to look at you, “Regardless, I’ve got something that will help with your little PR nightmare last month. What were you thinking?”

“Uh, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes narrow a fraction, but whatever she was thinking is ignored, “You and Epel are gonna be collaborating on an upcoming short film. Hopefully the two of you don’t get into another screaming match.”

“Um. Yeah. Hopefully.” All this new information and these new people are making your head spin. You don’t want to start panicking- you did enough of that last week- but you’re already exhausted. You wonder if there’s a back entrance to this building so you can just sneak out and don’t have to talk to Epel again. You don’t think you can mentally handle him talking to you over a cup of coffee.

Your agent, Mirelle, is looking at you expectantly, like she just said something. Your heart jumps into your throat, then sinks to your gut and you clear your throat quietly, shifting in your chair.

She laughs airily, “Oh, you didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

You shake your head, and she laughs again.

“I just said that production starts Monday. Try not to do anything crazy. This project is monumentally important for your public image.”

“Okay. Sorry for causing so much trouble in the past.” You mutter, standing up.

She shrugs with a happy little grin, “Oh, you’re young. Maybe you’ll grow out of it.”

You just nod. How are you supposed to even respond to that? If you get mad, you’ll probably get hysterical, and if you get hysterical, that is a one way ticket to a stay in grippy sock jail or a lobotomy. Rich people are different, and even though you’re living in some rich person’s body, you did not live this life for longer than a week. 

You purposely walk to the other staircase. Most buildings have two for fire safety. Your eyes water as you pause on the stairs and you sigh before you start descending them. 

Just as you get to the exit, your hand on the door, you hear a voice behind you, “Hey.”

It scares you out of your skin. You jump and spin and squawk, only to meet the wicked smile of Epel. It doesn’t reach his round blue eyes. He tilts his head from side to side, slowly, as if appraising you, and then he starts walking towards you and you push back against the door, opening it ever so slightly. He stops his motion and looks a tad surprised.

Then his eyes narrow, “Come back in.”

His voice sounds different, rougher. You don’t really want to, but it’s hot outside and you figure from all the odd looks and reactions you’ve gotten, running would be too erratic for this poor person’s life you’ve taken over. 

When you close the door and remain leaned against it, Epel’s face relaxes. You didn’t even realize he was making any sort of tense expression. He glances at the spandrel, the area beneath the stairs, and sighs.

“You hit your head last week? That why you were missin’?” Yeah, he’s speaking entirely differently. He has a sort of charming country twang to his voice, an underlying roughness that makes him seem even more boyish than before.

“Huh?”

“‘Huh?’” He mocks, looking back at you. He looks like he might cry, but his eyes are angry, “That all you got to say? For years you’ve told me that I don’t mean shit, and now you’re actin’ like you don’t even know me.”

He is right. You don’t know him at all. Even though you’re still in the cool building, you begin to sweat. You don’t know what to say to this without going through the experiences you’ve had in the past week, so you decide you don’t have to, especially since it seems like he may get aggressive if you say the wrong thing.

You lean hard against the aptly named panic bar, turn on your heel once outside, and take off running. It dawns on you a little late that he might be following, or, seven forbid, that he knows where you live, so you take a different route as dictated by your GPS and call your new father as soon as you get in the building.

It’s the middle of the work day, so he obviously doesn’t pick up. You unlock the apartment door and pant breathlessly, leaving a hasty voicemail, “O-oh, great seven- ugh- okay, hi, Dad. I told you I’d call you when I get home, so that’s what I’m doing. Hope I didn’t disrupt a meeting or whatever. Call me back, bye.”

You flop face down on the bed and groan, rolling onto your back as the ringtone that you would never choose goes off. In bold white letters on the screen, it says “Bumpkin Boy” with no other indication of who it might be. You pick up.

The voice on the other end sounds heated, a quiet mocking lilt to it, “Bet you went home, huh?”

Your blood runs cold and your very ability to speak is ripped from your lips.

“S’okay. You don’t have to talk. I could pay you a little visit, see what it’s like to live like a nepo baby for a day, but I think…” He pauses, and when he next speaks you hear the smile in his voice, “I think I’ll just wait for Monday, since you owe me a coffee date, don’t you?”

He hangs up after that. You stand up and double-check that you’ve locked the door before you hide in your closet and try not to start hyperventilating. You can’t even beat yourself up for this one. These circumstances are entirely out of your control.

#tw confusion #shy reader #tw creepy #tw stalking #but not really #tw death mention #tw lobotomy #tw mental hospital #reincarnation #tw reincarnation #twisted wonderland #tw: dark content #disney twst #tw: dark themes #tw: yandere #yandere #twst #yandere epel x reader #yandere epel felmier #epel felmier x reader

[l0serloki]

Rivalry

Hanzo Shimada x Reader

Summary : You come from a family that is in competition with the Shimadas. Little did you know that saving Genji would lead to a different fate..

CW : SMUT, choking, degrading, fingering (f! receiving), fem!reader, dirty talk, rivalry/”hate” from Hanzo, not fully proofread

A/N : I wrote this a long time ago and just found it in the docs.. Let’s hope it’s not too shit. The separations I made were timeskips as well. Enjoy!

Masterlist

You hated the Shimadas. Or so you thought. Your families had always been in a competition, reaching out to take the crown for themselves. 

“Don’t ever associate with the Shimadas, Y/N. Am I understood?” Your father berated you as you wept on the ground. “Yes, father. It won’t happen again.” The man hummed in agreement, walking away.

 How would you have known that the poor boy was a Shimada? And why did it really matter? 

Your eyes trailed down the road, finishing up a job for the night. You noticed movement from beside the trash can and got closer. You couldn’t have any witnesses to your ‘cleaning job’, never wishing to bring dishonor to your family.

“Who’s there?” You called out and then noticed the bloody body. He seemed as if he were on his last breath, his face almost unrecognizable from the wounds. “Oh heavens. It’s okay..” This man wasn’t one you had beat up, and there was no way he witnessed the scene in his condition. “Look, let’s get you help. I’m going to pick you up. Okay?” The man couldn’t respond, his feeble twitches alerted you of his life. 

You carried the man for what seemed like miles, finally finding a clinic to take care of him.

The nurse rushed toward the door, taking care of his limp body. His blood seeped all over the white stretcher as they took him back.

“What happened to him? Can you fill out a form?” The head nurse waved you over, passing a clipboard to you. “I really don’t know. I just found him like that. I don’t even know his name. Will he be alright?” You questioned and the lady shrugged. “We don’t know yet, I’ll tell you when I hear the news. Waiting room is all yours.” 

You waited for a while before you got the news. The nurse tapped your shoulder and you turned. “I’m sorry miss, he will live but he needs dire medical help. We are sending him to a trained professional. He gave me his name and number while he was still conscious.” She handed you a little paper slip. You could feel your heart drop.

Genji Shimada.

You had helped the Shimada clan?! Not only one of their henchmen but the second in line.. You were in for it now..

———

That was two years ago now and yet you still wondered what happened to the poor boy. No matter how many things were drilled into your head you never saw them as ‘inhuman’. 

Genji had been a change in your life, showing you the true way to use your powers - to save. Your talents in weaponry had proved useful, landing you a new spot on ‘Overwatch’. You had heard of the protocol across the news but never really looked into it. A sweet girl named Tracer tracked you down in Osaka and made you a deal. 

“Look, we could really use agents with your skill set. You’ll have a lot of new friends and missions to grow. We will provide whatever necessities you need as well, Y/N.” She rocked back and forth on her feet, giving you time to think. You decided to help, wanting a new adventure away from home.

“Hey darlin! Welcome to the team.” You were slapped lightly on the back by the ‘cowboy’ as Tracer called him. He introduced himself as Cassidy and showed you across base. 

Waving goodbye to your new friend, you sat down to eat. It had been a long day of socializing and you were worn out. Eyes glazing over, you let your body relax.

A loud cough behind you shuddered you out of your little nap, quickly turning to face them. It felt as if your eyes could pop out of their sockets, there was no way… 

“You’re Hanzo.” You deadpanned and his eyebrow raised.

“So the scary Y/N knows basic knowledge. Seems you’re not as stupid as I thought.” His scoff made you roll your eyes. He’s annoying but you didn’t wish to stick to the past hatred.

“Thanks. You’re pretty handsome for being annoying, I guess.” You brushed off your clothes, winking to the man as you made your exit. 

If Hanzo was here then maybe you could ask about his little brother.. Or get to know him a bit more.. You shook the last thought off, making your way to finish the work day.

——

That morning you had run into Hanzo yet again. The two of you just shared a simple glance across the table, continuing to eat breakfast. 

“Oh, Y/N! You’ve met grumpy pants! That’s great - works out perfectly. I have to go deal with a few issues so I can’t train with you today. Hanzo’s schedule is cleared though! You got this big man.” Cassidy slapped his shoulder as he waved goodbye. 

Was he joking? It had to be a set up… Right? You met his eyes and he seemed to be seething. Quiet sighs filled the silent void as you continued to pick at the fruit. 

“Are you done with breakfast? Let's get this over with.” Hanzo stood, beckoning you to follow. You cocked an eyebrow in surprise, setting aside the plate to clean.

The two of you walked down the elongated halls, an air of awkwardness sitting stagnant. Hanzo stopped at the training room door, opening it for you.

“Thanks.” You mumbled and he just hummed as the two of you got in position.

Kick after kick, blow after blow, the two of you fought. You could feel sweat drip down your back, breath leaving in hard huffs. You hadn’t had such a formidable partner in such a long time.

“Good job, Y/N. This hasn’t been bad.” Hanzo addressed, adam’s apple bobbing as he drank water.

You could feel your body hum in excitement at the praise. He looked absolutely gorgeous in the light, his sweat making him sparkle. 

“Thanks, Hanzo. Not too bad yourself.” 

The two of you awkwardly shifted, waiting for the other to speak. You didn’t want to ruin the moment but you were genuinely curious about what happened with Genji. Before you knew it, the words spilled out of your mouth.

“Hanzo, what happened with Genji? After I saved him that night?” 

You watched as his face contorted into questionable horror, a hand rubbing across his brow. 

“I-I don’t know. You were the one who saved him?” Hanzo’s voice was feeble, sounding much like a little child.

You had assumed Genji knew who you were, but then again, you never reached out after that night. You nodded, hand reaching out towards his wrist. His arm tensed at the touch - foggy chestnut hues meeting yours. 

“Thank you for saving my brother, Y/N. Maybe I thought wrong of you.” 

Your heart broke at the sight of such a strong man clearly broken. You didn’t know what happened in his family, but if it was anything like yours, it wasn’t good. You knew what it was like to live with that trauma - even if your clan was long gone.

“Hanzo, can I hug you?”

It took a few minutes but eventually the hardened man agreed, your arms wrapping around his taut muscles. You stood there for what seemed like forever, relishing in the touch. His body was warm, muscles finally relaxing against your own. Maybe he needed this just as much as you did.

His hot breath fanned against your neck as his nose dug into your flesh. You gripped against his shirt, your body warming up even more. Your finger traced down to his lower back, running circles in the indent.

“Since you saved my brother, I’ll give you anything you want.” His deep voice whispered into your ear, fireworks shooting out from your nerves.

“Anything?” 

His hands yanked you even closer, bodies touching. 

“Anything.”

No words had to be exchanged for him to understand what you wanted. Your hands dusted on the waistband of his pants, snapping it against him. Hanzo’s grunt only warmed your core up more, practically pleading for him. He backed you against the cold training door, fingers making their way into your shirt. 

“Hanzo, stop teasing.” You breathed out as the rough pads of his fingers trailed your thighs. His hum was the only response you got as he continued to tickle your soft flesh. 

It didn’t last long as he was about as ready to combust as you were, hands finally ripping at your underwear. A shiver ran down your body at the cold air revealing you, Hanzo’s abyssal orbs taking in your nude form.

“Good.” Was all the man said, his fingers rubbing against your wet folds. You threw your head back as he pushed two digits into your sopping hole, hands gripping at his neck.

“Fuck, just like that.” You crooned, his pace picking up.

“Don’t tell me what to do. You hear me?” Hanzo’s voice went stern, hand coming to grasp at your throat. You nodded along as he continued to curl his digits into you.

It wasn’t even a full minute later that you felt the string inside you ready to snap, your cunt convulsing around his fingers. 

“I can feel you about to cum. Let it go, flower.” Hanzo’s thumb came to circle your clit, only adding more pressure to your oncoming orgasm.

“F-Fuck! Hanzo, I-I’m cumming..” You moaned, eyes rolling back as you reached your high. 

Hanzo gave you a few seconds before you felt his hard member brushing against your throbbing hole. His voice letting out low groans as he rutted himself into you.

“Can I push in?” The man panted, arms grasping on to you for dear life.

You shook your head in confirmation, body shaking as you felt his length move in. He was just the right size and you couldn’t help but think that you wouldn’t last long. He had already given you a mindblowing orgasm and you didn’t have much stamina left. 

His pace was brutal, hands yanking at you to stuff you full. Only the lewd noise of slapping and his grunts could be heard throughout the room.

“Your cunt feels so good around me. You were built to take me.” Hanzo barked out, your body clenching at his nasty words. He took this as a good sign, continuing his dirty talk.

“Bet you love this. Look at you, whoring yourself out to me.” His hand yanked you to look in the workout mirror, watching as he completely obliterated you. You could only moan as he opened your mouth, shoveling two of his fingers into it.

“You like that. Be a nasty bitch and cum. I know you’re close.” Hanzo’s breath puffed against your ear, the overstimulation too much. Your body shook as you reached your second orgasm of the night, creaming around his member. It wasn’t soon after that Hanzo came, decorating your stomach in ribbons of white. 

After a few minutes the two of you reclothed and got ready to leave. Hanzo made his way to the door, turning back to meet your eyes.

“If you ever want to do that again... My door is always open.”

#hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo #hanzo overwatch #hanzo shimada #hanzo x reader smut #hanzo x reader #hanzo x you #hanzo x you smut #hanzo smut #overwatch smut #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch #overwatch hanzo

[casarecci]

You know what's so great about Lucy leaving Lockwood & Co for a little bit?

She had literally no one. From childhood, apart from her one sister she got on well with, Lucy had nobody. Not a single person.

When she started out as an agent, that was a chance to connect with other people and maybe find her place in the world. What happened instead? Her team died and her supervisor blamed their deaths on her.

So her leaving her family to go to London *was* a risk, but also not really. With her talent, she was basically guaranteed some sort of job (last resort being part of the Night Guard), so it wasn't a huge financial risk. Nor was it a social risk--again, note that Lucy had literally nobody. No friends, no close family. (I hear show lucy was different but unfortunately I am a book-elitist so.)

The point is, when she was hired by Lockwood, she didn't just get a job, she got family. She got George and Lockwood. She got two people who understood to a significant extent what it's like to be a kid in a world where kids are like adults in situations where there isn't a super secure family safety net to fall back on. She got companionship. She got people she could wake up in the middle of the night, people she could depend on, people she could share meals with. People she could share her life with and who shared their lives with her, too.

And then she leaves.

And do you know how much it takes leaving somewhere you've put down roots? To leave people you've grown close to? To leave somewhere that's so safe? A place of comfort and familiarity and security?

It's hard. It's really hard.

But she did it.

Maybe her reasons for doing so weren't the most sound. But she did it. She had the guts to leave and survive and carve out a place in the world for herself. Sure a life without Lockwood and George was kinda miserable, but she made it work.

And I respect her so much for that.

#not including skull in this bc yes he's her friend too #but it's different bc he is a ghost #lucy carlyle #lockwood and co #lockwood and co books

[jqhotchner]

stars

one

yn is a very private person. has been since the start of her career. it’s not that she doesn’t appreciate the love and her fans, she truly does! she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them, for that she’s grateful to have them in her life.

she just likes to keep the good, the bad, and the ugly to herself. yn airs out her dirty laundry in her music. letting the world know the love and heartbreak she’s been through in her past and in her present. sharing her art through her music is such an amazing honor!

yn has been through so much. she’s still recovering from all the heartbreak she’s experienced throughout her lifetime. as for today, in this very moment, she’s been loved unconditionally by the most amazing man in the world!

it had been three years of being so in love with aaron hotchner, it feels like it was just yesterday she asked him and his boy to move in with her! it’s been the most amazing time of her life. yn was ready to shout to the rooftops about her love for her boyfriend and the little boy that now calls him mamma!

yn is cuddled up to aaron in bed. he’s propped up, one arm around her, the other holding one of rossi’s books. he had his reading glasses on—which he looked amazing wearing!—heavily invested in the book.

“aaron?”

“hmm?”

yn looks up at her boyfriend. “i think im ready to tell my fans about us. bout you and jack.”

aaron sets his book down. yn sits up as aaron turns and smiles. “if that’s what you want, darling.”

“yeah, but what do you want?”

aaron grabs her hands and caresses them before bringing them up to his lips. “baby, it’s your life, your fans. whatever you wanna do, im with.”

yn sighs. “but it’s your job and your son, aaron. what you want matters too. your life won’t be the same once people know. neither will jack’s.”

“our son, lovely! and if my beautiful, amazing, smart, talented girl wants to tell her fans about our family, who am i to say no? our lives changed the moment you and i started dating. i knew the risk and what i was getting jack and i into. if i didn’t think about it, i wouldn’t have pursued you.”

yn heart beats fast. she couldn’t believe how lucky she is to have this man in her life. it’s one of the many reasons she’s ready to share with the world. all the love songs she’s written about him, the smiles she’s had when being photographed by paparazzi, the text she hid from prying eyes during events, all of that was gonna be released to the world. she couldn’t wait!

aaron kisses her passionately. yn climbs on his lap and begins to straddle his waist. aaron smirks during their make out session.

“don’t you think you’ve had enough, lovely?” he whispers as he kisses right beneath her ear.

yn shakes her head. “could never have enough of you.”

riri

Liked by derekmorgan and 10,645,000 others

riri lover took this ❤️

View all 43,000 comments

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| riri don’t be jealous dee

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riri

Liked by ririangels and 13,000,000 others

riri gonna see babe ;)

View all 34,000 comments

ririaesthetic wait, he’s an fbi agent?!?!

rihannafans1 so man isn’t famous but an agent?! oh, she’s down bad for sure!

| riri 🫣

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| riri 😌

badgalriri holy, fuck! our girls dating an fbi agent! he gotta be sexy as shit!

| riri and is 💁🏽‍♀️

#aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #jqhotchner #jqhotchner masterlist #stars jqhotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader

[daughterofcain-67]

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 (𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁)

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender! Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 1) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An argument leads Dean into finally confessing the truth of his career but before you can make the choice on whether or not you believe Dean you find out some disturbing news which awakens you to a harsh reality.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: character death (oc) i think that’s it

Things were about as tense as you thought they would be,. You had never felt this uncomfortable in your own home until this very moment as you stood here with Dean. But you supposed for the sake of your own sanity, you knew you would have to break the ice somehow.

“Make yourself at home I guess, agent.” You spoke and motioned for him to have a seat on the couch.

Dean walked further into your home and he straightened up the jacket from his suit, uncertain if he should bother with taking it off or not. But then something caught his eye. Dean started walking towards wine of your bookshelves, the one that had several sketchbooks you had from over the years.

“You mind if I have a look at one of these?” Dean asked.

You glanced over and saw he was looked it through your bookshelves. “Sure, have at it.”

Then you sat down on your windowsill and picked up your current sketchbook once more so you could get back to work on the cover art you were asked to do. Meanwhile, Dean pulled out a random book and he was slowly going through the pages.

As Dean looked at your work, he was amazed at the detail you put into it. You’ve definitely improved your skills over the years, though back in the day he didn’t know how you could have possibly gotten better. Obviously he was wrong.He continued to look through different sketchbooks but then there was one that he hadn’t expected to find.

This one had a photograph of the two of you glued to the first page. Then as Dean flipped through the pages he realized you had drawn pictures of him, each of them were dated and from what he could tell you often wondered what he would look like over the years or even what he did for a living, judging from the different uniforms you drew him in.

“I didn’t think you’re talents could get any better. You were already really good back then.” Dean finally spoke, but you ignored him.

Dean looked up at you and saw you were focused on your artwork. He closed the book he had in his palm before he put it back on the bookshelf and he walked over.

“What are you working on now?” He asked and started looking over your shoulder. He watched as you were drawing some sort of steampunk looking piece, as if it were some sort of Cinderella alternate reality.

“Cover ideas.” Your shortness didn’t surprise him but it still stung nonetheless. He let out a sigh before he tried to speak again.

“Look, at the bar I didn’t mean for you to misunderstand anything. I was really happy to see you there.”

“Dean, what was there to misunderstand? You’re an agent here to do a job and walk right out of my life all over again, leaving me with no clue as to where you’re going or if you even care to see me ever again. Danielle was right. And I should have forgotten about you decades ago.”

“It’s not as heartless as it sounds. I can’t afford to just catch up with anyone i want to, I can’t afford any kind of closeness with anybody. You have no idea how many enemies I’ve made with this job, how many innocent lives have been ruined, how many people have gotten hurt or worse just because they knew me.” Dean tried to explain but you scoffed and tossed your sketchbook to the side.

“That’s a coward’s answer. Lots of FBI agents have families. That means they’re brave enough to take the risk. But I get it, a simple conversation that isn’t work related isn’t worth the risk. I’m not worth the risk, I get it.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I’m saying!”

“Isn’t it though? It may not be your exact words but that’s the implication.” You got up from your spot and started walking to the kitchen.

Dean’s jaw tightened and his brows narrowed before he started to follow you into the kitchen.

“Alright, you want the truth?! This job sucks and I’ve gotten attached to people like you and the moment I let my guard down, ninety percent of the time those people die. Knowing me is a death sentence. My brother and I have lost too many people because of it. I can’t let you die like that because some monster takes it upon itself to break in and gut you up just because you know me.”

You, under the impression Dean was using the word ‘monster’ as some term for a serial killer or some sick sort of human being, scoffed. “Please, I’m plenty capable of protecting myself against some killer. You make it sound like the Boogyman’s after you.”

“The thing that killed your friend could easily kill you too and you can’t protect yourself from any of them, Y/N! You don’t know the kind of shit that’s out there. I didn’t expect you to be a part of this job and trust me if you weren’t involved I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Thanks, Dean. That makes me feel a thousand times better. And what kind of thing do you think will come after me, huh? Nothing could be that bad. Bad people do eventually get caught.” You said and you opened the refrigerator door to grab something to drink.

Dean rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face, wondering if he really needed to risk telling you the truth after all. You were being so difficult but you didn’t even understand the shit he’s ever seen.

“The think that’s killing your coworkers and your boss’ wife isn’t just any bad guy. You have no idea what we’re going up against.” Dean’s voice was a little calmer, yet still deadly serious. You turned around to see if he’d elaborate or if he’d keep you in the dark just as he always has.

“The business that I told you I was in with my brother and my dad… it’s sort of um.. a traveling extermination business. Sam isn’t my partner in the FBI. Neither of us are agents. He’s my brother, and we hunt monsters. Vampires, werewolves, demons, doppelgängers… every ugly ass creature you can think of, we’ve probably killed before.” Dean finally confessed.

Your brows arched upward with shock. This was the excuse Dean decided to give you? This was why he avoided you all these years and he really expected you to believe he was hunting monsters like Van Helsing? Yeah right.

“Monsters? Really? Dean if you aren’t going to tell me the truth I think you should just leave. I don’t want to see you around here anymore.” You said, growing angrier the more you saw him, hurting even more knowing he would lie to your face like this.

“Y/N, name someone in this town that would gut innocent people and steal their hearts. That’s something a werewolf has been known to do in my field and they are stronger than you can handle.” He was still insisting you believe these lies?!

“Dean, I’m serious. I’m not buying this story of yours, okay? Why don’t you just go with Sam to make sure Danielle and her boyfriend are alright.” You said and when you went to brush past him, you felt his strong grip on your upper arm and you looked up at him.

“This isn’t just a story, Y/N. It’s the ugly reality.” He told you and you searched his eyes.

What the hell had Dean seen over the years that made him so sincere about this? You swore he had to be crazy if he expected you to believe this whole monster thing like he believed it. But before you could ask any questions about it, Dean’s phone started ringing.

Dean sighed a little before he let go of your arm just to answer the phone, figuring it must’ve been Sam.

“Sam? What’s happening?”

“Dean, it was Danielle’s boyfriend. He was one of them. Danielle and I were safe and I took care of Chris but maybe one of his guys broke in and knocked me out or something. I can’t find Danielle anywhere. They took her belongings too. I don’t know where they could have taken her.” Sam said on the other line.

You must’ve heard bits and pieces of what Sam was saying because when Dean looked at you, he saw the stunned expression on your face and he watched as you started looking around to find your shoes to put on.

“Are you sure they took her? What if she had something to do with it? Did you do the test on her?” Dean asked.

“Test? What test? Dean what the hell is going on?!” You asked, wanting to know if your friend was alright. What test could they have possibly been talking about? None of this made any sense.

“I’ll explain in a second just hang on, alright? Sam, how fast can you get here?” Dan asked, turning his attention back to his brother.

“I couldn’t tell you. You and I may have to meet somewhere on foot. They took the car.” Sam said and Dean’s eyes went wide.

“You let them take the car?! What happened to you being the responsible brother, huh?” Dean asked and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Wait wait.. I found something. Dean it’s a notebook with all the workers’ addresses on them. Y/N’s name is circled. She’s bound to be next and I don’t see Danielle’s name anywhere on this list.” Sam explained and that was when Dean heard the familiar roar of the impala from outside.

“I think she’s here. Sam, You need to find Nelson and find out what the hell happened on that hunt.” Dean said sternly and your brows narrowed with confusion.

“Nelson? How can he be a part of this? What hunt are you talking about? He’s not a hunting kind of guy.” You said, thinking Dean meant hunting wildlife and you still refused to believe this whole monster killing story.

Dean hung up the phone before he looked over at you while shoving the phone in his pocket, “You need to go in your room. Lock the door and don’t you dare come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on, Winchester! What happened to my friend?”

Dean shook his head, “She stopped being your friend a long time ago. I need you to just trust me and stay out of the way until I tell you it’s safe. I promise I’ll explain everything when this is over.”

As much as you desperately wanted to argue with Dean, you could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to argue because this was no longer up for any debate, let alone discussion. You bit your tongue to keep from saying anything else and you walked towards your bedroom and shut the door behind you. But you didn’t lock the door as Dean advised. If what Dean was saying was really true, then you had to see it for yourself.

Dean took the gun he had from behind his back and he made sure there was plenty of ammunition. Once he found he had plenty of silver bullets on him, he made sure to keep it on him so he’d be prepared for when Danielle would come in. No wonder she seemed hesitant to leave with Sam. She had a job to do and he was willing to bet she was the one that killed Callie. Some actress.

Before Dean could even think about anything else, the door was suddenly kicked down and not only was it Danielle that walked through the door but there were two guys that were about Sam’s height dressed in leather like they were a couple of bikers from the bar or something. Sort of matched the charisma, or lack of, that Callie’s former boyfriend was talking about.

“Well well… You were just gonna spend the night with your friend and when she least expected it, you’d kill her like you killed Callie, huh?” Dean said as he lifted the gun to aim at their direction.

“Oh what would you know. Nelson deserves what he’s got coming. But it serves him right to watch everything he worked for fall apart, just like he did with my father’s pack.” Danielle seethed.

You could faintly hear the conversation from behind your bedroom door and your heart sank. Danielle was going to kill you? That was why she asked if she could spend the night? Why would she do that? She was one of your good friends, or at least that’s what you hoped. Clearly you were wrong, but what was this talk about a pack?

You reached up and carefully turned the knob, doing your best to keep quiet and you slowly started to open the door so you could hear things a little bit better. You simply cracked it open, not wanting to give your location away completely.

“Come on, you know Y/N better than anyone and you knew Callie better than anyone. You know damned well neither of them deserve what you’re doing to them. They’re good people and you know it.” You could hear Dean say but Danielle scoffed.

“My father was a good man before your kind took it upon yourselves to massacre my family! We never hunted anyone, strictly animals because my father wanted to be civilized. Live under the radar and stay clear of hunters. But Nelson… Nelson decided all of us are the same ugly things that keep you up at night. When he killed my family there was anarchy. I took the lead and said to Hell with it, we’re going after Nelson in the most.. traditional.. way possible. Show him the monsters he wanted us to be.” You could hear Danielle say, but your heart sank down to your feet.

Dean was right, she must’ve never been your friend if this was her plan all along. You felt so naive, gullible and stupid.

“Come on, Danielle, don’t make me pull this trigger on you and your friends. You think this is what your family would have wanted you to become?” Dean retorted.

“Who cares how I avenge them. This is how I’m getting my payback against Nelson and I’m not letting you, Sam, or any other hunter stand in my way.” Danielle said and from what you heard a fight broke out after that.

You heard furniture get moved around, you flinched at the sound of a vase shattering to the floor. Slowly, you moved to where you could look through the crack in the door. You finally saw the truth of what was out there. Your friend and her two companions had fangs, their fingernails turned to claws, their eyes changed color. You couldn’t believe what you saw, and you didn’t think werewolves could possibly be real. All of it felt so unbelievable.

Your eyes widened when you saw Dean get knocked to the ground. You didn’t know what to do but you could tell that Dean was starting to lose the fight. Everything in your was screaming to help him but you didn’t know how to fight these things. What if you did something wrong and Dean died because of you?

Still, as Dean was wrestling with one of the werewolves on the floor you saw him drop the gun and the weapon slid on the ground towards your door. This was your chance to do something. You just hoped that things wouldn’t go wrong.

You took in a deep breath before you opened the door wider and stepped out of the room.

Dean heard the door creaking open and he saw you standing there. Were you nuts?! What the hell were you doing?!

“Y/N! Get back inside!” He called out but he watched as you ignored him and rushed to get to the gun and you picked it up.

You could feel your heart beating fast and before you could think, you realized one of the wolves was coming after you and you aired the gun and you closed your eyes before you took a shot. When you opened one of your eyes, you saw that the werewolf was on the ground with a gunshot wound to the chest.

The werewolf above Dean was distracted by the gunshot and when the creature looked over at you, Dean took the opportunity take a shot and kick the werewolf off of him. Then, Dean rushed over to you while you were stunned about what you’ve done.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You did what you needed to, now go back to the room and I’ll finish up.” Dean said and you hesitantly nodded as you backed away and stayed in your room but you couldn’t help but to keep watching everything unfold in front of you.

You watched as Dean was fighting both Danielle and the other man she came with and Dean managed to shoot the man Danielle was with and she knocked out your former friend. The next thing you knew, Dean stood over the unconscious creature and shot her in the heart so she’d never wake up again.

You didn’t know what you should be feeling in that moment. Should you be angry that Danielle was never your friend, but a monster? Should you be angry that Dean had knocked out the person you thought was your ally?

When you slowly walked out of your bedroom again you walked over to your friend. You saw the claws on her fingers and her fangs still showed. You wondered if this was just some sort of never-ending nightmare. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do and it felt like you had been blind to so many things your entire life. Your world was turning upside down.

Dean saw the look on your face as you looked down at the corpse. He could tell you were questioning so many things right now and he never wanted things to be this way. He never wanted you to get wrapped up in this horrific bullshit of a hunting life and he never wanted you to know what was out there.

“Do you believe me now?” He asked softly, but you gave him no response.

“Y/N… I never wanted you to find out about any of this. That’s why I never told you much about my family or what we did.” He said in a gentler tone and you ran your fingers though your hair.

“Well now I know, Dean. I can’t just unsee everything that just happened.” You said softly and you felt a soft hand on your shoulder. You looked up and saw Dean looking up at you.

“Is it at least over now?” You asked.

“I’m not sure. It should be over if Danielle was the leader of this new pack, but I have to check with Sam if there were any indications of any other members of the pack and if he got in contact with Nelson again.” Dean replied and you looked back down at the body.

“She was the sweet one out of the three of us. She seemed so concerned about Callie when we hadn’t heard from her for several days… I never would’ve seen the attack coming.”

Dean frowned a little when you spoke, knowing all of this had to be a lot to take in for you.

“Let me call Sam and see if he’s got everything squared away on his end, if he was able to talk to Nelson and everything.” He said and you nodded as you walked away from the bodies and went to your bedroom again.

Dean watched you walking away, knowing your life was forever altered at this point. He pulled out his phone again and he dialed up Sam’s number. Luckily he didn’t need to wait long for an answer.

“Dean? Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah… turns out Danielle wasn’t as innocent as she lead on. She and two other wolves are dead.”

“How did Y/N take all of it? She alright?”

“Honestly I don’t know, Sammy… It might take her a little time with Danielle specifically. You get in contact with Nelson?”

“Well… yes and no.” Sam replied and Dean lifted a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Well when I tried calling him there was no answer. So I took a taxi to his house and when I walked in, it looked like another attack. I guess someone caught word that you were facing the new leader and they wanted to make sure the main goal was accomplished so it looks like they killed Nelson before I had the chance to talk to him.”

“Shit… so what does that mean? Do you think they’ll still go after people working in the bar?” Dean asked.

“I’m not so sure… I think we may need to stay a few days and lie low to see what happens. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” Sam insisted and Dean looked over at your bedroom and saw you sitting on the corner of your bed, disassociating because of everything that transpired.

“Yeah… That might the best option. You think you can swing by to help me take care of these bodies and get Y/N somewhere safe? You said the werewolves had addresses in that notebook right? I think she may need to stay with us for a few days just incase anyone tries to go after her again.” Dean insisted.

“Yeah, just give me about fifteen minutes and I’ll be there.”

When Sam and Dean hung up, Dean walked over to the bedroom and towards you. He knelt in front of you and saw you were just spacing out and thinking of so many different things, he could practically see it on your face how lost you were.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. I promise.” He said and he placed a hand on one of your knees, which broke your trance and you looked down at his hand then back at him.

“Dean… I’ve never even shot a gun at a person before… I just killed someone.” You said in such a timid little tone.

“Y/N, you’ve got to realize that wasn’t a person. None of them were. Not anymore. They would have killed you, your coworkers, and who knows who else they would have killed if you hadn’t helped stop them.”

“Danielle… was a person to me. I can’t believe she lied to me like that. Then again what the hell do I know about anything anymore. You must think I’m so stupid for not listening to you before.” You scoffed and your eyes started welling up with tears, one slipping from your face and you swiftly wiped it away.

“It’s natural to have doubts. I know what I was telling you is hard for a lot of people to believe. I wasn’t expecting you to believe me instantly. Stuff like this isn’t easy to take in.” he continued and you looked back at Dean again.

“What am I supposed to do now? Where do I go from here? Am I going to get in trouble with the police? Surely my neighbors heard the gunshots.” You started to ramble.

“The cops are bound to show, but they still think Sammy and I are FBI agents. We claim self defense which unfortunately ended in fatalities.” Dean answered.

“You make it sound so simple.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Sweetheart.” Dean said before he moved his hand from your knee and he held one of your hands.

“But as far as beyond the police are concerned… We don’t know if there are more werewolves. So after Sam and I handle the police when they come, I think it would be better if you stayed with me and Sam. Just for a few days until we know there won’t be anymore attacks against you or any of your other coworkers. They have your address so we don’t think you’ll be safe here right now.” He continued.

You bit down on your bottom lip before you nodded a little, deciding to go with Dean after all. You didn’t exactly want to be alone after tonight, but maybe you’d be alright after a few days.

“Okay… Let me pack some clothes before I go with you.”

A few days went by and things seemed to settle down. You had found out Nelson passed away and the cops connected Danielle to the murders so they believed Dean’s claim of self defense. Not that you were really surprised. Dean seemed to be a pretty good liar when it came to the cops.

There weren’t anymore threats against you at least that you knew of, and now that it’s been a week of silence, Dean said it was safe for you to go back home and now you were riding with him in the impala.

The car ride was quiet, as if the both of you knew this week long journey was coming to a close and you weren’t sure if you would ever see him again. You wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t see him again, knowing he’d more than likely say the same things as he did in the argument before the attack. It was disheartening to know that Dean didn’t want to take a chance.

When the two of you made it to your apartment, it was like nothing had ever happened. Only because Sam and Dean went out of their way to clean up the bodies. Naturally some things did need some replacing like the vase, or the living room couch that had been splattered with blood, but you would get those things on your own since you had been looking into buying a new couch anyway. But it was sweet that Sam and Dean took it upon themselves to help as much as they could.

“Well… I guess this is the part where I take off.” Dean said and you looked over at him.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m a crummy cook but I can order something. My treat. It’s really the least I can do after you saved me and helped clean the place up after everything.” You insisted.

Lucky for you, Dean didn’t really put up much of a fight so he followed you into your home. Dean sat at one of the love seats since you no longer had a couch at the moment and you sat down on the recliner as you pulled out your laptop to see what you should order.

“Chinese sound alright to you?” You asked and Dean smiled a little.

“Whatever you want to order’s fine.” He replied and you pouted a little.

“Dean, this is supposed to be for you as a thank you. I need a little help here since I’m not exactly a mind reader.” You said and Dean let out a little chuckle before he tried to think.

“What about a burger and some fries?” He said then it was your turn to smirk.

“Diner food again? Sure.” You snickered, “Want anything else with that?”

“Maybe some pie.” Dean said and somehow you knew that was a must, considering he just went through a whole pie in three days during the week you stayed with them.

“Sure thing.” You insisted and you started placing the order online for delivery and a couple of minutes later, the order was completed.

“It should be here in thirty minutes or so.” You said, shutting your computer and you set it down on the coffee table.

“You know you didn’t have to order anything.” Dean replied and you smiled.

“Again, it’s the least I could do.” You insisted

You and Dean were watching a show just to think of how to kill some time but the two of you settled on some sort of cartoon. You and Dean couldn’t find anything decent so the Boomerang channel seemed to be a better option at least for the time being.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t… have to hit the road after today, do you?” You asked and Dean looked at you.

“Well… I mean that’s what I normally do with cases. I never really stay in the same place for a long time. There’s a lot more than just werewolves to worry about and… and well it’s better if Sam and I kept on moving.” He said, looking away from you even though he could still feel your gaze on him.

“Don’t you ever just slow down? Catch a break? Surely there are other hunters out there that can handle the stuff you do.” You said and Dean shook his head.

“Not really… the stuff Sam and I see… they’re pretty much apocalyptic and we can’t put that on anyone else. It’s our responsibility, our burden to bare and it’s a death sentence to bring anyone else into it.” He said and you scoffed a little, causing him to look at you again.

“What?”

“You and your liking for the coward’s way out.” You said, recalling the argument again when he gave a shitty excuse as to why he didn’t get close to people.

“It’s not a coward’s way, Y/N. It’s reality. You saw yourself what’s out there. And I’m risking a lot just being here right now.” He said and you rolled your eyes before you got up and went to your room.

Dean lifted a brow before he got up and followed you. When he did he noticed you were looking for something and he couldn’t help but tilt his head as he leaned against the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Looking for something.”

“I can see that.” He said and watched you pull out a box. He didn’t see a whole lot inside until you pushed it towards the end of the bed. That’s when he saw a few shirts and cassettes, mementos of that summer.

“You don’t realize how many lives you affect when you travel, Dean. I know I can’t possibly be the only girl you’ve come across just to leave behind. And from what I can tell, I’m not the only one that could have died but survived. But when you just leave people behind you take a piece of them with you and it’s like you don’t even realize it. You’re too blind with the whole idea of keeping your distance that you don’t realize the people you hurt along the way by not giving them a chance.”You began and Dean lifted a brow.

“Y/N, I’ve gave people chances and they still lose their lives. You’re right, you aren’t the only woman I’ve come across. But once I get too close they get killed. The last one got hurt severely so I had a friend erase her memory to forget everything about me. It’s to keep her safe and I can’t lose anyone else.” He told you.

“Do you realize how you’re making yourself sound, Dean?”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as hunting, you’re bound to be one of the strongest men that I know. Not that I know many- obviously. But what makes you a coward and what makes you selfish is the fact that you can’t allow yourself to be close to someone long enough to know if they’re willing to stay with you even if this life is tough. Hunting is scary shit, I know that now. But you don’t deserve to go through it alone. It’s unfair to you.” You said.

“I don’t deserve that sort of fairness. If you knew half the things I’ve done-“

“Do you think any of that matters to me, Dean?” You set the box down on the floor again before you walked towards him.

“I don’t know much of what you’ve done all these years, and I don’t know the pain you’ve gone through. But I know that no one should ever have to be alone like that. I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve been through a lot. You deserve to have someone by your side to at least give you some sort of relief from this life every once in a while, give you a break from your ‘apocalyptic’ stressors.” You said and took a bold move by taking one of his hands.

Dean looked down at your hand with his before lifting his gaze to meet your own.

“But what happens if you get hurt, or worse? I can’t stand that risk, not with someone like you.” He said gently and you sighed a little before you gave his hand a little squeeze.

“Didn’t you ever think about me accepting that risk? You can teach me a lot and I’m willing to learn. Obviously I won’t have as much experience as you and I never will, but you can teach me enough to defend myself so you won’t have to worry about me so much.” You were trying so hard to compromise and Dean could tell.

What seemed to surprise Dean the most was that you were actually willing to learn how to hunt. You were actually willing to be a part of this much shittier side of life. It was amazing that out of the choices you had, this was the one you were willing to make.

“What about your art? Or the bar?” He asked and you shrugged.

“I can still work on art. The bar was just to keep my lights on. And now that both my friends are dead… I don’t really have anything keeping me bartending.” You explained.

“But what if-“

“Stop with the what ifs and the hypotheticals. Please?” You said, practically begging him to stop trying to make excuses for you to not join him. You didn’t have anything left going for you here.

Dean looked down at the floor between both of you as he tried to think of his best options. So many things swirling through his head about how things could go wrong. How would be able to protect you? How quickly would you be able to learn everything he’d have to teach you? If anything they could always use the help with research while he and Sam were on the field. But what happens if you were researching while he and Sam were out on the field working and something happened to you while he wasn’t there?

You could practically see the gears turning in his mind with how so many things could go wrong and you reached up, touching his face gently.

“This is the kind of thing I’m talking about. You’re thinking about so much already. You have so much on your shoulders, I can see it.” You said softly and he started looking at you, gaze softening as he started to relax against your touch.

“You don’t deserve to carry that stress…” You whispered and leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, close to his mouth.

“Let me be at least some sort of distraction.” He listened to your voice barely above a whisper and he could barely feel your lips against his cheek.

Dean carefully moved his head and your faces were so close to each other. One small movement and he’d have his lips over yours if either of you simply leaned forward.

“Do you think you could handle everything you’d distract me from?” He asked, his mind slowly starting to open up to the idea of you coming along even if he still had an overwhelming reluctance within himself. Still, he felt your thumb lightly graze his cheekbone.

“I wouldn’t be asking to go with you if I wasn’t willing to try. I could never fathom everything. You’ve been through, but I can try to make it easier even if it’s for a moment.”

Dean tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as if he were still thinking about it before he lifted a hand and brought it to the back of your neck. He felt the way you seemed to melt into him but all he could think of was how he let Jo and Lisa down.

“Please… just give me a chance.” Your voice broke him from his thoughts, or at least a strand of them. Only to start a new strand.

Dean started to think of the two weeks he spent with you. Those two weeks he had never felt so normal, even happy because of you. It was like the hunting world hadn’t even existed for that amount of time when he was with you even if he was supposed to be working on a job. Seeing you happy and realizing he could make the world safe, make sure you were safe, that’s what gave him the reason to hunt that summer. He thought back to the drawing you had given him, knowing he had never forgotten you over the years and knew he never could. He remembered the way you made him feel and a part of him now was screaming not to let you go like that again. John wasn’t in the picture anymore to lecture him like a child about who he told about hunting. He was a grown man and you were a grown woman, and you were begging him to take you along. He knew you were capable after watching you kill one of the werewolves when you were attacked. So why shouldn’t you come along?

He remembered just how Jo passed, how so many others have passed and who he’s lost and his jaw tightened for a moment.

“You have to promise me that you’ll listen to everything I tell you on a hunt, swear that you’ll listen to every precaution Sam and I tell you. When there is a plan, you stick to the plan so you don’t get hurt.” He said, tone stern with a certain gentleness about it.

You softened, realizing that he’d likely be so cautious with you and you wondered just how many people he’s lost with this life. But you knew that’s something you might never know. You could tell it was taking a lot for him to even think about you coming along.

“Promise.” You swore.

Dean then leaned down and he was so close to pressing his lips on yours. Your noses barely brushed against each other with how close he was and eat somehow he was already at ease. He didn’t know exactly what made it so easy, but it had felt like ages since he was able to feel this calm, decades since his mind finally slowed down just because of a small action like this.

The abrupt sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted the moment and the both of you pulled away before you had the chance to kiss. The voice on the other side of the door alerted you that it was just the delivery guy. He heard the way you sighed with a little irritation and he cracked a small smile at the reaction.

He let go of you so you could tend to the guy at the door. After you paid the guy you set the food on the coffee table just as he was walking out of your bedroom. You were in the process of pulling everything out of the plastic bags but Dean kept his gaze on you.

“I’m not kidding, though.” Dean said, his mind going back to the roller coaster it always was, but you gazed up at him.

“I know you’re serious. I’m not a child, Dean. I’ll be careful, but you and Sam will still need to teach me a few things. Plans have to change sometimes and we have to adapt. Nothing in life is cut and dry so you’ll have to trust me to take care of myself too.” You said, and that was the part Dean may have the issue with at least for a while.

“That… may take me a little time to do.” He warned and you walked over and handed him the bag with his burger in it.

“Naturally.” You replied and he was surprised you were taking this so well.

“I’m not expecting things to be smooth right away and for you to be so nonchalant with me on a hunt. So long as you’ll eventually be able to trust me on these things, then it’ll be fine. I’m a bit of a fast learner so we’ll get there eventually.” You promised before you sat down.

Dean listened and smiled slightly. He knew you’d need that determination. It’d be a good thing to have especially when he and Sam were both so close to having enough when it came to facing demons and angels. But trust.. he knew that would be the biggest thing he’d need to work on.

Dean knew he could trust you with certain things. He could trust your willingness to learn, trust your ability to adapt to a changed plan quickly, but he didn’t trust other factors of a case and when things would inevitably go wrong. Maybe the more you’d be around, the more he’d get better at that.

Either way… it would be nice to have you around, at least to let him forget about his own personal hell once in a while.

“You gonna join me or am I going to have to eat and watch Scooby Doo by myself?” You asked, breaking Dean away again. He smiled before he walked over to join you in the living room where you moved the seats closer to the coffee table.

One day it will be easier to let his worries go, easier to let the weight on his shoulders get a little lighter, and Dean hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d be the one that could help him along that journey.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @leigh70 @nk1023

#jensen ackles #supernatural #spnfandom #dean winchester #supernatural imagine #dean imagine #supernatural x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester mini series #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester ff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic #spn rewatch

[slutforsilverfoxes]

What Happens In New York... The Remix

In which Aaron & Sean’s bff meeting for the first time gets ✨reimagined✨ (essentially an AU with a different meet cute)

“Yo, Hotch!” The blonde popped his head around the corner to peek into the break room where you were perched on a stool and hunched over the table, tongue peeking out between your lips while you concentrated on the project laid out before you. “Come take a look at this.” You flipped your design around with a flourish and a quiet, “Ta da!,” revealing the name of the bar where you worked, The Edinburgh, in sprawling cursive writing with a shamrock dotting the “i”.

“Kid.” Sean clicked his teeth with a shake of his head before declaring, “Your talents are wasted here. This looks amazing!”

“We’re not that old,” you laughed. “Art school is still in the cards for me, don’t you worry your pretty head.”

“She thinks I’m pretty,” he cooed to no one in particular, then chucked your chin affectionately while you fought to grab a hold of his wrist before biting down on his hand.

“And you taste good, too,” you hummed. “Spill some Jameson on yourself?”

“Shut up and go man the bar, Y/L/N.” You shied away from Sean’s pinching fingers, then slung a towel over your shoulder and followed the din of patrons in the bar to your section. It was a relatively slow Wednesday night for a New York summer, but you weren’t bothered by the unhurried pace. In between serving craft beers and specialty mixed drinks, you busied yourself polishing the wood paneling along the cabinetry and ensuring all bottle labels were facing outward for ease of customer selection. With that task completed, you resigned yourself to peeling a lemon into artful shapes while you waited for another patron to approach your end of the bar.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A honeyed voice carried confidently over the steady drone of bar chats, and you looked up with a smile. Everything about the man before you screamed professional, from the dark locks swept off his forehead to his sharp suit and tie to the placement of his clasped hands on the bar with a thick silver watch adorning his left wrist. There was a certain stoicism about him that was undeniably intriguing, and you could sense a sadness behind the warmth in his chocolate brown eyes. A shot of adrenaline coursed through you as you held his gaze, and you wanted nothing more than for him to open up to you.

“He loves me not,” you joked, tossing the lemon rind that you were forming into a rose aside. Leaning on your elbows on the bar top, you tilted your head back and forth while studying him. “Scotch on the rocks?”

He breathed out a laugh and conceded, “I wasn’t planning on it, but that actually sounds great.”

“Got it in one,” you sang playfully, back turned while you poured the beverage. You could feel his intense gaze roving over your form, and you suppressed the shiver threatening to run down your spine. You placed a napkin down before him with a flourish, then presented his drink. “Now, how about a penny for your thoughts?”

He clicked his teeth and shook his head in a suspiciously familiar way before asserting, “Nobody wants to take a peek in here,” with a tap to his temple.

“I do,” you answered genuinely. “That’s why I love this job. You can tell me whatever’s on your mind, judgment free.” As you swept a stray ice cube off the bar, you tacked on, “Unless you tell me you’re a serial killer, of course. Then I think I’m obligated to report you, at least in most states.”

He leaned in conspiratorially and you met him halfway. “You’re a little too good at this,” he confided in a whisper.

You let out a mock gasp and questioned in an equally hushed tone, “So you are a serial killer?”

He shook his head with a small smile. “I hunt them.” The simple statement accompanied by the flash of defiance in his eyes sent a bolt of heat through your body that you didn’t care to unpack at this time. Instead, you directed the conversation back to him.

“Detective?”

“Agent.”

That sense of familiarity from earlier hit you like a ton of bricks. “Don’t tell me you’re big brother Hotchner.”

He laughed at the incredulous lilt to your statement and admitted, “Guilty as charged. So you know Sean, then?”

“More intimately than I care to admit on days that end in ‘y’,” you huffed through a smile.

“Girlfriend?”

“Best friend,” you corrected him pointedly, then carried on, “Roommate. Therapist. Personal chef. The list of my many talents goes on.” You offered him your hand to shake and formally introduced yourself, receiving a polite, “Aaron,” in response with a smile that stole the very breath from your lungs. His palm was surprisingly soft in opposition to his firm grip, and you reluctantly retracted your hand after a prolonged moment. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course,” he answered seriously after a mouthful of scotch. “Brother-brother’s best friend slash roommate slash therapist slash other miscellaneous job title confidentiality is sacred.” You snorted out a laugh and immediately slapped a hand over your mouth at the ridiculous sound, covering it up with a poorly faked cough. Aaron, for his part, was kind enough to studiously avoid eye contact with you while he smiled down at the bar. “So that secret?” he prodded gently.

“You’re not nearly as boring as Sean makes you out to be.”

Aaron threw his head back in a laugh that warmed you from the inside out, and you committed the ebullient sound to memory, determined to hear it again.

A pinch at your side had you squealing out an indignant, “Hotch!” You noticed Aaron’s eyebrows raising at the nickname before you directed your attention (and a swatting of your towel) to the younger Hotchner brother, then pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek.

“I see you two have met,” Sean noted in a carefully measured tone, his hand resting possessively on your hip.

“We have,” Aaron answered just as evenly, raising his glass to his lips again as the temperature in the bar dropped several degrees.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Aaron? Got a case in town, or did you just want to remind me I’m still not living up to the Hotchner name?” The genuine nature of your best friend’s question was poorly masked by his usual sarcastic cadence.

The brunette’s visage pulled into a frown for the first time since he entered the bar, and you immediately missed his easygoing smile. “He came to see me, dummy,” you asserted with an elbow to Sean’s side, breaking the tension as the brothers released a collective breath. “And blondie, we’re gonna have to work on your descriptive skills. You did not do your big brother justice.”

“And that,” you declare in the present, swiping an experimental coat of plum-colored nail polish over your daughter’s thumbnail before shaking your head with a frown and grabbing the remover, “is how your badass mom singlehandedly saved the integrity of the Hotchner family. The power of humor!”

“Sounds like the power of flirting,” your mini-me counters with a wicked grin reminiscent of her beloved uncle while you hunt through the basket of mani/pedi essentials for a more suitable shade.

“Nah,” your husband further contests from his spot on the couch, head buried in a case file and reading glasses dangerously close to sliding off the bridge of his nose. “Your mom wasn’t a great flirt. She would just snort-laugh at my jokes until I figured out she liked me.”

“You mean this twerp inherited that from Mom?” Jack lovingly ruffles his little sister’s hair on his way back from the kitchen and she barks at him in response, unable to retaliate physically while you’re working on her hands. “You’re so fucking weird sometimes.”

“Watch your fucking language,” you admonish your seventeen-year-old. “Is this purple better?”

Aaron and your kids look up for precisely one second before answering in unison. “Too light.”

“Y’all are a pain in my ass,” you declare with a grumble, giving up on shuffling through the bottles of lacquer in favor of upturning the entire basket on the living room floor.

Your husband stands with a groan and comes over to press a kiss to your forehead, then your daughter’s, before placing Purple with a Purpose in your awaiting palm. “That’s what you get for singlehandedly saving the integrity of the Hotchner family.”

__________

[A/N: Y'all seemed to really enjoy What Happens In New York, so I thought exploring a different meeting would be fun :) I think we can all agree that CM did the Hotchner brothers dirty so I shall continue to live in my world where they amend their relationship as adults thank u very much]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

#daddy hotch #but literally #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #hotch fanfiction #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #sean hotchner

[rosietaeyongswife]

maps | jjh

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, secret agent jaehyun x reader synopsis: Your husband was killed year ago by an unknown man. The griev and unsolved case kept you at night. After meeting your late husband's unfamiliar friend, you found new mission in your life. Find out who killed your husband Jaehyun. wc: 7.5k tw: cursing, blood, death, suggestive themes, guns, misscariage, grammar mistakes etc. au: it's been a long time lol there are still mistakes for sure, but i think i got better? at least i'm trying. hope you enjoy this. as always, i made it with jaehyun, because he literally fits every role??? peace yo

"It's been a year, move on." Your father sat down with a cup of tea in his left hand. "I love you, you're my daughter and I'm aware you loved him deeply. We all are. I mean, you can't ruin your life, because your husband got killed. I'm not saying you should forget him, I'm saying you should move on, Y/N. Please."

Seems like it's about 100th time your father brings the topic. Not even mentioning other people in your life. They could never understand the pain you feel. They could never understand how does it feel to lose person you've loved for so many years.

"How am I supposed to move on, dad? Tell me, how? I can't sleep at night, I have to go to therapy and take these pills that makes me weak as a bitch, and I don't even have an energy to talk with you, yet you're here telling me to move on?" Telling him all that felt relieving. Made you feel lighter. "You don't have any idea how it is. None of you! I don't want to see you or mom, coming here and acting as if y'all are my therapist."

"We're trying to help you, you're our daughter. We mean only the best for you, okay? Honey, you can't freeze in time and griev your whole life. Jaehyun wouldn't want that."

"Don't speak about it. You didn't even know him. Leave it, please."

Jaehyun was married to you for almost four years, and these were the best years of your life. You met at high school, then started dating at your senior year at college, and get married two years later. The job he had made your life harder. He was working for Korean Secret Forces, as an agent. High rank, excellent skills and results.

He was supposed to be go on a trip to Japan, when he got shot and killed. No one knows why, nor how did it happened.

"Y/N, you have still a lot to live. Being mean towards us won't change a thing. I'm leaving, if you need something, call us."

Cementary felt like your second home. A year ago, you used to come here everyday for two months, then lesser and now you're doing it once a week. Always brining candles or flowers with you. Your husband deserves to never be forgotten.

Crossing path, you spotted a man sitting by your husband's grave. Walking slowly to see who is it, you saw a face you've never seen before.

"Mind asking, who you are?"

Man turned around, and looked into your eyes. He was about 10cm highter than you, and had white, medium lenght hair. His gaze was strong, and gave you chills.

"You're his wife, right?" You nodded. "Jaehyun was a great man. I've never had a chance to meet you, and talk because of work, but I used to work with your husband. We were pretty close, I guess." He seems to be saying the truth, but you were bit taken aback. You knew majority of Jaehyun friends, but not him. "Jaehyun probably never mentioned my name, I am Yuta."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N." You two shake your hands. "Is there a reason why he didn't meniton you?"

"Listen Y/N, I can't tell you much-"

"He was killed by Secret Forces, wasn't he? It wasn't an accident." You claimed while blankly staring at Yuta.

"How-"

"Jaehyun was too good for a rookie mistake, I'm sure he would dodge the bullet. Answer me honestly."

Yuta sighed. People way above him, or Jaehyun, made an awesome narrative. Most skilled and talented man of Secret Forces got shot by unknown man on his off duty. Unbeliveable lie.

"It for sure wasn't an accident. As I said, I can't tell you much. But I want you to be careful, it's dangerous. Jaehyun found something and it got him killed. I don't want you to die or to suffer, because of that. I promised Jaehyun to keep an eye on you."

Your heart almost stopped, and your vission was blurry. Of course, you had some theories on why did Jaehyun die, but mostly it was his postion in work. Many would kill for his job, and it'd be good reason to kill him. But now, as you're aware it wasn't it, you felt sick.

"What are you talking about? What did he find?"

"I can't tell you, because I'm not aware of everything. I'd suggest for you to not dig into it. Live your life, and don't look for anything, Y/N."

"My husband was killed, because he found something. He was killed, while we have expected the baby! He left me alone, hearbroken and lonely. Don't you think, I deserve at least the reason?"

"Baby? You're mother?"

Yuta was surprised, because he has been following you for months, since Jaehyun knew he was in trouble, yet he had never seen you with a child.

"I had a misscariage. It was thrid month, when Jaehyun died. Due to stress and everything, my body gave up. Awful times." You tried to laugh, but you failed. "I don't want to complain about my life, there's no point. I want the truth."

"Just leave it. Jaehyun died because of your co-called 'truth', so you better move on. Forget about me, and forget we met." Yuta made his way out of the grave, but he turned quickly. "I'm sorry for your loss. About Jaehyun, and your baby. Good luck, Y/N."

The first thing that came to your mind to call Jungwoo and Johnny to meet. Two of them were best buddies with Jaehyun, they had to know something. You demand answers.

"Do any of you know Yuta?"

Jungwoo and Johnny looked at each other, which was obvious for you - they do.

"Why you're asking?" Jungwoo chuckled. "I thought we were supposed to hang out and talk shit."

"I met him today. At cementary, at Jaehyun's grave to be exact." Johnny chocked on his saliva. "Why I had no clue about him?"

"What did he say?"

"Johnny, don't fuckin do it. Answer me, you two, now. I've been gaslighted for a year. Is it some joke to you? To play dumb around me?"

"Relax, it's not that deep."

"Answers."

"Yuta was working with Jaehyun for few months." Jungwoo stated as he was taking a sip of his beer. "He's japanese member of the crew. Yuta Nakamoto was working with Jaehyun on some project, extra secretive thing. We don't know what were they doing, though."

"So, what did he say?"

"Jaehyun found something that got him killed. I told y'all it wasn't an accident. I've known it was a murder. I knew."

"Y/N, you can't just believe in every word he says. We don't know him well, he migh've been lyin-"

"I believe him. Please." You rolled your eyes. "My husband wasn't some kind of a rookie, nope. He was the captain of his crew, soon to be officer. How couldn't he dodge the bullet? In the daylight? And the suspect have never been found. Sounds weird to me."

"There was an open investigation, and we were working hard-"

"Don't bullshit me, right now."

"Even if it's true, stay out of this. It's clearly something he wasn't supposed to know, and look. He's six feet under, now, sniffing the flowers from the other side." Johnny said firmly. The tone was suspicious, and you realize he was nervous. "Can we change the subject?"

Agony. You got rid of agony. In your life there's a new mission. To find the truth. You won't rest easy until you get to know what happened. Why did your husband had to die.

The lock of the attic opened. After Jaehyun's death, police came and took some of his personal stuff. You didn't give them everything, though. There must be something in his stuff.

After an hour, you didn't find much. Some rapports, evidence on minor crimes, suspects, scratches of something, to-do lists, and notes he used to make for you. As when you were about to give up, you found small piece of paper with a phone number on.

"What?" Male voice came from the other side. A bit cold, you'd say. "Who are you?"

"Hey, I am Y/N. Jung Y/N." Silence. "Jaehyun's wife."

"How did you get my phone number?"

"I found it. May I ask, who are you?"

"No, you're not going to ask me questions." Cold tone made you annoyed. "Jaehyun is dead, and here you are calling me. Why?"

"I know Jaehyun got murdered by his company. Please, I need to find the truth. I was looking for clues in his stuff, so I came across this phone number. I need help."

"I can't help you. I-"

"Please. I'll do everything."

Short silence made you believe, he's about to hang up.

"Meet me at 10. I'll send you adress. Alone." He sighed. "If you're from police, you're dead. See ya."

The adress seems sketchy as fuck, but you had to risk it. You felt like throwing up, because of the stress and everything that's about to happen. You were working as a private math teacher, not as a detective.

Area you're in, was abandomen long ago. There were only empty and destroyed buildings around, and not a sound of life around. Suddenly, you felt hands around you and on your mouth. Someone grab you, and took you in one of the building.

In front of you, were two men. One, black hair and bunny-like face, and the other one looked like a character straight from the anime.

"Are you a plug? Police? FBI? CIA? Secret Forces? SWAT?" You remember the voice, it's a guy who you've spoken to this morning. The guy with a black hair. "Answer us, now."

"No? The fuck! I told you, I'm Jaehyun's wife. I swear to God, I'm working as a private math teacher. I have no connection to police, besides my late husband."

"Taeyoung, check her ID."

They took your documents, and in fact, you wasn't lying.

"She's not lying. She's really Jaehyun's wife."

"Fuck." The other male sighed. "I told him to burn my phone number, dumb fucker. Why did you call? What do you want?"

"I want to know what happened to Jaehyun. I met Yuta today, I guess you must know him." They nodded. "I don't know if you're from Secret Forces, but you knew Jaehyun. The note wasn't in his offical case, why? Who are you?"

"I'm Kim Doyoung. I'm a hacker, and old friend of Jaehyun. We got few classes together back in college."

"And you?"

"Lee Taeyong. I'm his best friend, roommate and I used to be Jaehyun's plug."

"Jaehyun had a plug? Why? What?"

"I see you're confused." Doyoung softened. "Yuta must told you to stay out of this case, right? Why don't you listen? You need adrenaline? If yes, go to Bunjee jump. You want to get yourself killed?"

The way him, Taeyong and Yuta were so secretive made your blood boil. Also, the fact you had no idea Jaehyun knew them was even more annoying.

"If your wife got killed, wouldn't she want to know what happened? I demand answers. They can't get away with killing an innocent person."

"As if it was that easy." Taeyong sat down with a gun in his hand.

"You want answers?" You nodded. "Alright. But I don't guarante, you're going to be safe later. I can't promise that." You agreed without a word. "Jaehyun was a right man. He had his morals, and let's say, he didn't agree with few things with his boss and other assholes."

"He was in China, right?" Taeyong asked. "It all started there. During his stay there, and mission an innocent men got killed. He was chinese-korean, living with his wife and two kids. Provider of the family, and taxi driver. Jaehyun got told, he was super dangerous killer who killed around 10 korean soldiers in X Zone. The mission was easy. Get rid of the target."

"So he did. He and his people, including Jungwoo and Johnny. They had no idea, he was completly innocent guy. He was just a taxi driver, who wouldn't hurt a fly. The above wanted to get rid of him to show chinese mob, they don't care. Jaehyun got to know by accident, because he overheard his boss talking about it."

"It turned out, they killed more innocent people. He found corruption, and more evidence on illegal cases in the company. Doyoung hacked the system, and I asked the right people." Your brain was trying to process what they were saying. "There was a case of files tittled with his last name. They planned to get rid of evidence, and frame Jaehyun to become a hitman. Cruel killer, who killed innocent guys."

"What?"

"Jaehyun told them to turn themselfs in. To go to a trial court. Before he even told them, someone snitched on him. We don't know who, but they knew. The above ordered to kill him as soon as possible. I believe it must've been someone from his team. They can't be trusted, Y/N." Doyoung sighed. "Not even Jungwoo, or Johnny. We have no idea how much they know."

Your world was spinning around, and many more questions come with it. It felt as if your life got ruined in seconds. Your husband was always someone, who people looked up to. He hated discrimination, and lack of justice. He knew too much.

"But Yuta is alive."

"Jaehyun never mentioned Yuta. We're sure, they tortured him before getting on that street and shooting him. Someone was supposed to tell the truth, but Yuta can't be another one killed."

"Jungwoo and Johnny, they know?"

"They have to know." Taeyong said with a smile. "Think. They were close, if they didn't then Jaehyun wouldn't trust them. Who knows. Maybe they killed him."

There's no way. Jungwoo and Johnny were best friends with Jaehyun for years. They could never hurt him, not saying about killing him. They weren't capable, were they?

"I need to find the killer, and the evidence. I'll end what Jaehyun has started. I don't care, I have nothing to lose." You stood up, still overwhelmed by all the informations. "Even if it means, I'm going to die. Jaehyun didn't deserve to die."

"Y/N, it's danegrous. You can't put yourself into danger, because of grief and rage. Think about it. You can still get your life together-"

"No. I need to do it for him. And I need your help."

That night, you couldn't sleep. All you was thinking about was your hsuband and guys he was working with. There is no turning back now, you're going to get your revenge. No matter what. But the only thing couldn't let go. Yuta was keeping an eye on you for months, and yes, you had theory someone was following you, or stalking. Few times, you've spotted a shadow in your house. Some car passing your house three times a day. But you could swear to God, the shadow or sillhouete you've spotted was taller than Yuta. Yuta was about 5'10, while the person you saw so many times was for sure taller. Could Jaehyun sent someone else too?

After you left, Doyoung and Taeyong looked at each other sending signal.

"Y/N found us." Doyoung was gripping his phone hard, while waiting until the other person say something. "She called me earlier today. I am sure, she's going to find the killer."

"Don't let her. Keep her safe, Doyoung."

"It's too late now."

"Understood."

Taeyoung looked at his friend stressed. They nodded at each other, and went to their places waiting for next things coming.

"I'm so happy, you're moving on!" Your mother hugged you. "Are you sure about moving out part? It's your house, after all."

"Living here reminds me of Jaehyun too much. I found nice apartament in the centre of city, and I'm going to live closer to the company. Only prons."

"Jungwoo is picking you up?"

"He's already there." Your friend honked. "I gotta go. Let's go. I'm starting new chapter."

"We're proud of you." Your dad kissed your cheek. "Call us when you're in your new place. We're happy for you."

Drive to your new place was really comfortable, Jungwoo was cracking jokes all the time and he was expressing how happy he was for you.

"By the way, thank you. I really appreciate you recommended me for the company and you're driving me to my new place."

"Please, don't. It's just a pleasure to help you, Y/N. I am here for you anytime." He smiled at you. "You know, we are buddies now."

"Yes, dude."

"You sound like Mark now."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"Duh. He overuse 'dude'. Don't be like Mark."

Jungwoo wasn't right. Dude is literally Mark. Mark is dude. There's no Mark Lee without a 'dude' every few seconds. Almost like a comma.

After a month of working in Secret Forces as analyst, you were secured in your spot. No one suspected you of anything. Not many knew you were widow and Jaehyun's wife. Only the above knew, and Johnny, Jungwoo and Mark. You were lowkey about your business, and never mentioned anything harmful to you.

"We're going to hang out and drink sojuu, you're coming?" Mark asked with sparkling eyes. "Please, you always decline. Only me, Johnny, Jungwoo and Taeil. He went to the same University as you, I believe."

"Mark, I have a work to do. I need to do research, and write a raport."

"And you have a weekend for that. Just this once. We're not that bad, after all. Boys wants you to come. C'mon."

"Bet."

Mark left happy, because after 5th time asking, you agreed. By the time he was gone, you could check your other phone. You saw notification popping up on your homescreen.

dy: i need u to go and find login to y'all system dy: asap dy: don't get caught tho

Every single worker have own login, but login of people with high ranks are different each. With a sigh, you left your office and went towards the lift. You waved to few people, you got to know, and went to 14th floor. There must be the office of your boss.

There was no one in sight, so you just went in carefully. He was gettin his daily coffee on 4th floor with his friends, so he won't be there any time soon. You knew there were cameras, but Doyoung took care of that long time ago.

"Fuck. Where's the damn laptop."

As far as you know, they don't use their logins on official PC's, but have their own laptops with a base of every file possible.

Finally, you spotted black laptop on the pile of books in the corner. Looking around, you put USB cable in laptop. Thanks to that, Doyoung can hack everything from the laptop.

dy: i need 2 minutes dy: ok take the cable off, and meet me in your smoking spot behind the building

"I'm going out with boys tonight. After the work. In an hour."

"Be careful, though. Remember, we don't know how much do they know."

"They were best friends with Jaehyun. They couldn't be harmful."

"Maybe you're right, but there's no harm in being careful." He sighed. "I'll check everything, and tell you what we found. For now, be sure no one saw you."

The restaurant was really comfy, and have it's vibe. You felt as you were a kid again with your parents on Sunday's dinner. Nostalgic place.

"The owner is my uncle." Taeil laughed. "He opened the restaurant like 5 years ago? It's one of the best, I swear to God."

"Your uncle?" You were in disbelief. "The food is amazing. I love their dumplings."

"My uncle is the same person as Gordon Ramsey."

"Maybe let's not go there." Johnny cut off laughing. "You're lying."

"Ya, do you doubt me!"

"Gentlemen, stop."

The conversation went smoothly. You got to know, Taeil was your senior while you were freshman in the University.

"I remember the time we were training, and we were supposed to get all 10s with shooting, but Jungwoo missed every single one."

"Ya, really! I got 6, it's not bad."

"You're classified as blind, Woo. Don't you know?" Taeil laughed with Johnny. "He's really fit, but the guns and him aren't good couple."

"I have hidden talent with guns."

"And it stays hidden, Jungwoo." Johnny rolled his eyes. "And you Y/N? Have you ever held a gun?"

"Not really. I am clueless about all the weapons. Even knives. The only knife I've ever came across, was the one to peel the apples. Really."

"Then why did you join us? I mean, our job is almost like American CIA or FBI. I know your analyst, but why here?"

Taeil asked you question, and you froze for a minute. Jungwoo noticed your confused expression, and get you out of the awkward situation.

"Discrimination? Just because she wasn't trained like us means, she can't work with us? Ya, Moon Taeil, I thought you wasn't a jerk."

All of you were laughing, and you were thankful for him saving you.

"No! Sorry, I just-"

"I was bored. Math teacher isn't exciting, right? I found there was a need for analyst, so I applied. I need adrenaline in my life."

"Don't we all?" Mark sighed. "But our job is kinda boring. We don't do much nowadays."

"And nice. We should rest." Johnny took a sip of sojuu. "Let's drink and have a blast before coming back to that shithole in two days."

Two hours passed, and you were ready to come back home. Boys seems to have fun, and they planned to go Taeil's place to have more sojuu and watch movies.

"I really gotta go. I had fun, and I really like you, but it's getting darker." You claimed, while taking your coat on. "Bye."

They waved you goodbye, but Mark stopped you.

"Wait! Jungwoo is totally wasted, and he's asking if you could drive him home. I mean, you're the only one who wasn't drinking." He held his neck. "If no, then we can call the cab."

"No need for that." You smiled. "I'll get his drunk ass and get him to his place. Where's he?"

Jungwoo was sitting on the passenger seat, and he was white as ghost.

"Woo, are you alright?"

"I think Imma throw up." The mumble wasn't clear, and it took you a second to understand.

"Shit, wait. We're going to my place, it's closer. You look like you're about to pass out. You can stay the night."

"Can I?"

"Oh, shut up."

Taking Jungwoo into your place wasn't an easy task. He was 6ft, and his ass wouldn't hurry up, which made you go to the door for about 10 minutes.

"Here, sit down and drink some water." You passed him the glass. "Are you going to throw up?"

"I am not sure."

"Sit there, I'll take a shower. If you need to throw up, there's a bowl under the sink."

Jungwoo saluted, and you chuckled. You must admit, he was kinda cute. You slapped yourself mentally for that thought. You can't think about him in that way, after all he's your dead husband friend.

You came back to Jungwoo laying on the couch with his eyes closed, thinking he was sleeping, you was walking on your tippy toes.

"I'm not sleeping, Y/N. Can you come here?" He opened his arm. "C'mon. Please. I am so drunk, I can't. I need a hug."

"Jungwoo, I don't think-"

"Just lay down, and relax. I'm not going to touch you, c'mon."

Jungwoo made space for you. Being this close to him, made you nervous. It's been a while since you was this close to a man.

"Why aren't you sleeping, dumbass? You look like a ghost.

"Ah, really. I still have a time. You know what, I really respect you, Y/N. I admire how strong you are, and how smart you are. Really. I'm always surprised because of you."

"Jungwoo, don't sugarcoat me." You chuckled. "You're drunk."

"I mean it. I really, really mean it. I'm happy you're moving on with your life. Jaehyun was lucky to have you, you know. I've been jealous of him." You chuckled, because drunk Jungwoo was funny and he wasn't aware of his words. "Don't laugh. We all were jealous of you two."

"Woo, please. There's other couples like that. It's a past. I need to move on, and I did, to be honest. I'm not thinking about Jaehyun that much." There was a bit of truth in that. You couldn't tell others about your plan, so it was better to make them think you really moved on, but at the other hand. You missed being loved. "I think I should date again."

"Ya, that's what I'm saying!" He said confidently with a pout. "I agree. But Y/N. I really like you. We've been hanging out a lot past weeks, and I really like you. I found you pretty and I'd like to kiss you."

Before you could answer, surprised with his confession he was long asleep on his back. Your heart skipped a beat, because you had no clue someone have a crush on you. Someone like Kim Jungwoo. You knew Jaehyun would like you to date one of his friends, instead of complete stranger.

"If I ever pass away, please. Y/N date either Johnny or Jungwoo." He was caressing your cheek. "I know they would take great care of you. I trust them. If you'd date a stranger, they know to kill him, you know."

"Jaehyun don't even say that. Only person I'm going to date is you. Don't talk about your dead, you're not going to die."

"You never know. In this line of work, you gotta be ready for everything. I told them the same thing. Personally, I'd took Jungwoo. He isn't going to work the same job as long as he thought."

"Honey, you're my husband talking about dating your best friend. Let's not."

He chuckled and kissed you. Little did you know, Jaehyun was aware he didn't have much left to live.

"I like you too." You whispered, and fall asleep.

'I left to work. Sorry for the trouble! I don't even remember how did I end up at your place! Not mentioning, sleeping next to you. LOL. I was wasted as fuck. Sorry again! I made you breakfast, hope you like scrambled eggs with kimchi and toast. See ya at work! Jungwoo~'

Smile crept on your face, because it was lovely. It's been a long time since someone made you breakfast. You shook your head, and reminded yourself to not get distracted.

"I found something interesting." Doyoung said while eating cookies, Taeyoung bought. "Look."

He passed you his laptop, and there was files named after Jaehyun and they were marked as top secret. You opened them, and there were synopsis of him and his life. You were also mentioned there as his wife, but not much.

"What's interesting in there?"

"Look at the date of his death. 12th February. He was killed five days later. We have a direct evidence his death was planned."

"I knew it. Who else can open these?"

"Not many. Bosses and officers. There's many suspects, Y/N. I saw someone deleted some files, and I tried to recover them. I'm not sure if it's possible."

"Do your best, please. I am sure, Johnny and Jungwoo don't know exactly what happened with Jaehyun."

"How?"

You could tell he wasn't convinced.

"I just know. They must been suspicious of Yuta, that's why they were nervous."

"Remember, you can't be sure of anything."

"I know them longer than I do you. I can tell when something is off."

"Don't let your feelings take control of you."

"I don't."

Taeyong laughed.

"You're not as trained as we are. No one can be trusted. We're partners, we can trust each other, but them? I'm not sure."

"I shouldn't trust you, since I don't know you. But guess what. I'm doing my best, so please. Shut up." You got up. "I'm going to the company. If you have something, let me know."

As soon as you left, Doyoung called.

"Yuta, keep an eye on her in the company. Especially on Jaehyun's buddies."

"Fuck. I told you to get this idea out of her mind."

"Was I supposed to let her do it on her own, and get her killed? Jaehyun wouldn't be happy."

"She's getting too comfortable. We can't let her know everything, Doyoung. You deleted the files?"

"I did. I sent them."

"Good. Bye."

Kim Doyoung told you, he wasn't able to find the deleted files. You couldn't blame him for his failed mission, since he was doing already a lot. At the other hand, you tried asking people. Mentioning Jaehyun, but no a single soul had any idea about him, or his death.

Boys and you hang out again. This time, you got drunk. You didn't have to do much for work, since you got everything done before deadline. Jungwoo drive you home.

"Ah, Y/N. You're cute when you're drunk."

"I feel sarcasm, idiot."

"It's not." He laughed. "You look pretty. Here we are." He parked in front of your building. "Dummy."

"Kiss me then."

"What?"

"You said I'm pretty. Kiss me or you're lying."

You were way too drunk to care, or to be aware of your words.

"You're drunk-"

"Do it."

Jungwoo was looking into your eyes, the next second his hands cuped your cheeks and he was kissing you. The kiss lasted for few seconds, and it got you warmed up.

"Y/N-"

"Wanna come in?"

On your way to your place, both of you were kissing, not giving a damn about people passing you. It felt as if you two were waiting for this moment to come for the longest time ever. As you were kissing Jungwoo, you couldn't put the key in.

"Let me do it."

Next thing you remember, was the two of you undressing in your bedroom. Jungwoo didn't break the kiss, when he was getting your clothes off.

"I've been waiting for this moment for such a long time." He whined. "You really turn me the fuck on."

"Kim Jungwoo, just fuck me."

Both of you, too busy with each other, failed to notice tall silhouete standing in the dark corner of your place watching you. The man clenched his fists hard, feeling his blood boil. Jaehyun was watching his best friend fuckin his wife. He wanted to get out the shadow, and kill Jungwoo for it. He wanted to scream, but he knew he couldn't. Officialy, he's dead.

"I'll kill him." He whispered, and left as quiet as he entered.

Jung Jaehyun is very alive, and healthy.

Past days were peacful and relaxed, something you couldn't feel for a while. Jungwoo and you weren't dating yet. You wanted to take things slow, because at the back of your head, you could see Jaehyun.

Peace was broken, when Yuta paid you a visit.

"Listen, I don't care what you're doing with who, but I can't agree for you to lose your mind over someone." He sighed. "There's no one you can trust, especially Jaehyun's ex friends."

"The only person I shouldn't trust is you, Yuta. I don't know you at all, Doyoung and Taeyong don't talk about you, nor Jaehyun did. It's logical for me to trust them, not you."

Yuta felt as he was talking to a child. You were stubborn, way too much for Yuta's liking. His Japanese temper was getting real bad with you. He felt hopeless, because no matter how many times, he's telling you to stay away from Jaehyun ex co-workers, you don't listen.

"How do you know they didn't get their hands dirty with Jaehyun? What if they're involved but you don't know? You don't know them, Y/N. You have this pov of them as your husband's co-workers, not as actual people."

"Wait." You paused. "Don't you and boys know somethind I don't? Doyoung also told me to stay away from them. Why?"

"You know I don't." His body tensed up. "For some reason, as you claim, your husband didn't tell anything to them. I know, I know." He rolled his eyes. "It was dangerous, but they were friends for years, Y/N, years. Not even a word?"

Doyoung was walking down the woods, hidden from the city. Not many people visited the woods, because they weren't fameous as other one.

"You're alone?" Doyoung nodded as he entered small house. "What's up."

"You're not going to do anything with Jungwoo? He's fuckin your wife, Jaehyun. It's so painfully obvious. She likes him."

Jaehyun clenched his jaw.

"Not now. I can't just kill him out of the blue. For now, it's alright as long as he's not putting her in danger. I sent Yuta to talk to her, but she's not interested in his advice."

"Y/N is independant. I mean, she left the theraphy long ago, and her main goal is to find your killer."

"Only if she knew what really happened."

"Are you going to reveal yourself?"

"No. It's better if I'm away from her."

Finding a killer of your late husband was draining. Jungwoo didn't have a clue what you're up to. He found you looking through multiple files at night, but he never dared to ask what's that.

Taeyong tried his best at finding answers to your questions, but there were none. He felt like giving up, together with Doyoung. It was complicated to find people, who know something. It was like a never ending task.

"Jaehyun body was never found. I think I'd cry out of happines if he would be alive somehow." You admited to Doyoung, who was sipping on his coffee. "Sometimes I feel like he's still with me. His presence."

"Even after dating Jungwoo?"

"Yes. I can't explain that feeling, but he's there. His ghost, at least."

Doyoung made a mental note to inform Jaehyun to keep it lowkey, since you probably could tell something is off. Maybe Jaehyun wasn't doing great job with following you? It could ruin a lot.

"Ghosts aren't real. You miss him, so your imagination makes you feel like he's here. Simple."

"Yes, I know. Still, I'd like to hang out with him for the last time. Do you know what's last thing we did?"

"Tell us." Yuta said, and you rolled your eyes at him. "I'm just asking, I swear to God."

"We had a fight. Cliche, yes. We had a fight about him not being at home much, because of work. I even thought he was cheating on me, because none of his friends spent so much time at the company as he did." You chuckled. "Then I realized how stupid it sounds, and I apologized. The next morning we were supposed to go to our favorite cafe, but as y'all know. He vanished and got shot."

"Were you supposed to tell him about pregnancy?"

"Of course. I planned to talk with him at our favorite place, and let him know he's about to become a father."

"Life's a bitch."

"Exactly. But for you it's past. Paniful past, but past. Now you're living new life, maybe you really should give up on finding Jaehyun's killer."

And maybe Yuta was right.

"I think I should. I have no clues, and no one knows anything. I am tired. One day I will know the truth, but not now."

"Facts. You have Jungwoo, right? You're in love and-"

"I am not." You cut Doyoung off. "I like him, and he's my boyfriend, but I can't say I'm in love with him. It's far from that."

"Understood, miss."

Your apartament was empty when you come. Jungwoo would hang out with you after work, but today he had to leave to Busan with Johnny. As you were walking around, you heard noise. The first thing you did, was to run for a knife.

"I'll kill you, if you step any further." You hissed.

To your surprise, Taeyong came out of shadow. He was wearing all black, and had a sad smile on his face.

"Easy. I'm not here to kill you, Y/N. I'm leaving Korea tonight." He got the knife out of your hand, and put it down on the counter. "I'm here to tell you what I know."

"What's going on? Did something happened? Someone's after you?"

"Not yet." He sighed. "I got the informations from secret documents, that Doyoung blocked. I don't know why, probably for you to feel safer. I recovered them, and I found something disturbing. The messages from a week ago. The man who killed Jaehyun is about to kill you."

Your vision became blurry, and you felt your throat tightening, making it hard to breathe.

"Do you know who sent them?"

"I don't. They were between two people, they're anonymous. No one can know, but one of them is going to try to kill you anytime soon. Probably this week. Please, stay safe. Be ready for anything, buy a gun, whatever. You can't trust no one, Y/N. I gotta go. It'd be better for you to have security or don't leave your place at night. Don't stay alone, okay?"

"Taeyong, why-"

"I have to, Y/N. I could be in trouble for warning you, plus I don't want Doyoung to get hurt. I'll get in touch as soon as possible, but for now." He turned around. "Lock the door, and find a weapon."

You did as Taeyong said. No one knew about the plan of killing you. No one can be trusted, especially after what Taeyong told you. Not even Jungwoo knew, besides the fact he was sleeping next to you every night. He was keeping you close, but it wasn't enough. You felt scared.

Past days, you didn't notice anyone following you. Mark, and Taeil would drop you off from work since you told them your car is gettin repaired, even though it wasn't true. Yuta and Doyoung didn't sense your odd behaviour. They thought you have tough days with work, since you told them you're giving up at finding Jaehyun's killer. Well, seems like he found you.

"Y/N, dinner's ready." Jungwoo smiled at you warmly. "I made your favorite, and bought wine on my way home. Is that fine?"

"Jungwoo, you didn't have to do all of this. I am thankfull, I appreciate that. You're the best."

"Today is special day. I want us to have the best dinner, and most magical time ever."

"Why?" You chuckled surprised. "Did something happend?"

"No reason, just 7th sense."

Odd. Jungwoo was really happy today, as if something happened. You thought maybe it was because of a promotion, since he was about to level up at the Secret Forces.

"Oh, I think someone is calling me." Doyoung's name popped up on your screen, but Jungwoo was quick to take your phone out of your hands. "Jungwoo."

"Please. Tonight is about us, not about your friends. It's probably not that important anywas. Can we move on?"

Jungwoo was right. Doyoung was calling you pretty often, and you had no idea why. Sometimes he was asking about you, or sometimes he was bragging about some bullshit you had no interest in.

As you were sitting on your bed, you felt kind of dizzy. Your head was spinning, and Jungwoo's voice was hard to hear. You tried to stand up, but you couldn't.

"Jungwoo, what's going on?"

"What do you mean? Nothing."

"I feel-"

You got cut off by sudden banging on the door. Before you process what happened, there was a tall man in your bedroom. Both you and Jungwoo couldn't believe your own eyes.

"Ya, really." Jungwoo hissed. "You're fuckin kidding me, right."

"You wish, motherfucker." Jaehyun's voice made you weak. He was there. Alive. "Leave her, the fuck, alone."

"I thought I killed you, didn't I?" Jungwoo was cocky, and you were shocked. Kim Jungwoo? Your cute Kim Jungwoo, who doesn't even know how to hold a gun was Jaehyun's killer? And Jaehyun's alive? "You're tough cookie, Jaehyun."

"It's not that easy to get rid of me. Now, leave my wife alone and step back before I'll slit your throat open."

"Wow, easy there, superman. I thought you were dead, but turnes out I missed? Fuck. I'll try better now."

"What is going on?" You asked still dizzy. "Jaehyun, you're alive. What happened? Please, tell me." Your eyes got wattery.

"Y/N, I need you to leave the bedroom. Leave the place, and call Doyoung and Yuta. Now."

"Nope, please."

Before you could do anything else, Jungwoo was coming at you with a knife, but Jaehyun pushed you away. You were on all four, creeping out of the bedroom. Seems like Jungwoo gave something in your drink or food. You lost balance, and you were laying down on the floor in the kitchen. Only banging, and grunts were heard from your bedroom. You were losing conciousness, while trying hard to not and to hear what's going on.

"Your wife is good in bed, huh. You have no clue how satisfied I was, knowing I was fuckin what belonged to you, Jaehyun." Jungwoo spitted blood out of his mouth. "I felt glory."

"You sick fucker." He punched his enemy in the face. "Don't mention my wife again. You fucked up our life. I thought you were my best friend. You're a traitor, Jungwoo and you'll pay for it."

"I don't think anyone would believe you." Jungwoo smirked.

"Doyoung have everything on you. Yuta too. They did nothing, because you picked to get close to Y/N. She couldn't know what happened. Not then."

"I knew I should've killed her sooner."

Without any word, Jaehyun got his gun and shot Jungwoo in his head. Bullet went through his brain, making a mess in your bedroom. Jungwoo's liveless body dropped on the floor, on the pool of blood.

You opened your eyes, and closed them right after. It was too light for you, and it was painful. You tried the second time, and you could feel shift on the surface you were on.

"Y/N? Oh, thank God you woke up." Jaehyun took your hand in his, and you felt overwhelmed with emotions. Your husband. Your true love was alive. "I am so sorry for everything, darling. I fucked up, but I am here again. This time forever."

"You're alive. Why did you do it to me? Why did you leave me and didn't come back?" You were crying, while Jaehyun was holding his tears in. "I was waiting for you to come back. Deep down I wasn't done with the fact you're dead. You have no idea what you put me through."

"I did it all to keep you safe. I couldn't risk your life, because of me, Y/N. I couldn't lose you, that's why. I was keeping an eye on you from afar. Doyoung, Taeyong and Yuta helped me. They tried to keep you away from Jungwoo."

"Jungwoo." You whispered. "Is he dead?" He nodded. "You killed him."

"I mean, he tried to kill me first. He was involved in case with taxi driver, and corruption. He was money laundering with our boss, and got big check for 'killing' me. Thankfully, he missed my heart by inches. Doyoung helped me."

"You could've told me. At least warn me. I missed you so much for past year. I thought I'm going to die, because of your loss. Do you have any idea how it is?"

"I don't and I'm sorry. I know your life was turned upside down, but I love you. I always been and I always will. Now, I'll gotta do my best for world to see what happened. I have proof of every illegal thing they've done."

You nodded, and tried to stop sobbing.

"Why didn't you kill Jungwoo back then?"

"Because they said, they're watching you. Before they tried to kill me, they blackmailed me. They had soldiers stalking you, and told me if something goes wrong, you're dead. Then everything is history. Listen, I love you too much. I had to do it for us." He kissed your hand. "I am sorry about pregnancy, I had no idea you were pregnant. Maybe if I knew, I'd stop and-"

"Jaehyun, no." You cut him off mid sentence. "No. It's not our fault. Shit happenes. I got over it a year ago. It's our past. Now I understand your motives. I am not mad anymore, but please. Let's move out from here, and let's start new life somewhere else."

"I've always wanted to live in Switzerland."

"Sounds great."

Jaehyun chuckled, and leant in to kiss you. After all the dark times, you could kiss your lover. Jaehyun was finally with you. Maybe there's still a chance for better days.

#nct #kpop #nct au #nct 127 #nct u #drama #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun au #jeong yunho #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenario #angst #jaehyun au #jaehyun x reader #kpop angst #jaehyun angst #fluff #action #thriller #kpop au #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #nct ff #nct fanfic #jaehyun fic #nct fic #jung jaehyun fic

[sgt-morgan]

Of Cowboys and Daisies🐎

Summary: Jack is assigned to watch over a mother and her adorable little girl. As they get closer and closer to taking care of their problem, Jack worries he won’t be able to let go.

Warnings: AFAB! Female identifying reader, talks of cannon typical violence, death of a spouse x2, really a fluff piece.

A/N: I wrote this because I have that stupid Tik tok edit song stuck in my noodle.

Masterlist

Follow up fic

Agent Whiskey wasn’t sure he was going to survive this arrangement. Champ said it was temporary, but his idea of temporary passed about two months ago. It was a fairly simple assignment, and with everything that’s happened, an easy assignment is a lot kinder than getting kicked off the team. So he took the job, even though the rapidly approaching end of it made him want to drink until he couldn’t see straight.

“It’s a simple protection detail.” Champ had shrugged, pulling the file out of his desk and smacking it down in front of him with a sigh. “She’s a youngin’, at least to me anyway. She’s CIA, talented too, once her life is out of the red zone, I’ll probably recruit her. Sharp as a tack, quick as a whip, and she’s got the mouth of a sailor, she’s right up your alley.” Jack studies the files with interest, running a curious finger over the picture of you that was attached to the file. You were a looker for sure, he listened to champ go on, reading over your impressive and extensive file, until he ran across a bit of information that shocked him half to death.

“She’s got a baby?” He huffed, incredulous.

“Yeah, little girl, her names Daisy May, she’s three. She’s sweeter than a peach, got Tequila and Ginger wrapped around her little finger already, and Momma is just as bad.” Champ chuckled, pouring them both a glass of Statesman’s finest while Jack stared at him intent on hearing every detail Champ was willing to offer. “Her late husband was a SEAL. Top ranking, special ops, very high up on the food chain. One day she goes out to grab dinner with the baby, comes back and he’s dead with a note pinned to his chest with her cover details written all over it. Tried to deal with it on her own, then after about two months she pulls the bottle her daddy- former agent Brandy god rest his soul- left her and called us up asking us to make her disappear. So we called our buddies at the CIA, got her cleared, and we’re doing it. She’s our-specifically your- problem until we can take out whoever blew her cover.”

Jack stared at the amber liquid in his glass and thought long and hard about that one. It’s a dark story, indicative of his own. “Where are we keeping her?” He sighs, swirling the liquid once more before shooting it.

“Well son, that’s up to you. If you wanna do a safe house, that’s fine. We can radio y’all in and use satellite to do the rest, or you can use the ranch. Familiar territory for you, plenty of security, and it means we can all look after her and the little one when necessary.” Champ sighs when Jack slides his glass back over to him.

“Where abouts they from?” Jack questions, “They gonna be ok living in a ranch or am I working with city slickers?”

“Oh no, She’s originally from Prestonsburg, she’s Floyd county born and raised. They were living in Texas though. Her husband was a Texan, moved to Austin to be closer to family and all that. She ain’t got anybody but an Aunt back home, but she’s an Eastern Kentucky girl. She grew up riding horses.” Jack’s eyebrows shot up to the brim of his hat at Champs little interlude.

“Well Shoot Champ, you really shot the shit with her huh?” He laughs.

“Her daddy was a friend, and she’s just like him. She’s a good girl, you’ll like her.” Champ nodded him to the door, and Jack took the dismissal in stride. Champ had high hopes, and Jack just hoped he was right.

Reflecting on it now, it’s laughable how skeptical he was. You were a picture of perfection. When he first met you, he knew, and Daisy put the bow on top of the package.

Funnily enough his horse introduced you, Tequila and Ginger were walking you around the distillery grounds, and had stopped to let you show Daisy the horses. He found you standing outside of a stall, specifically the stall of his horse, Coke. Coke is an Appaloosa with a blanket with spots. He’s not normally friendly with newcomers, having a stubborn streak a mile wide, but Jack was shocked to see you stood in front of the Horse’s stall with no issue. You had the baby propped on one hip, with her head on your shoulder and a thumb in her mouth, and Coke’s muzzle resting on the other. You were casually talking to Ginger while Tequila stared on shocked as you fondly stroked the horse’s muzzle. Normally, everyone knew not to turn their back on his horse, unless of course you were him. Coke was known to be a jester, and liked to nip at your hair or push you around with his muzzle, but there he stood, cozying up to a woman he just met today. He stood back and kept watching, seeing what the horse was up to. He heard the horse nicker and huff, moving his head to push towards the baby and you laughed, letting the curious animal nuzzle at the girl.

“Yeah big boy,” you patted his crest as he moved his head off your shoulder to let the baby stroke his muzzle, “yeah- gentle Daisy May, be nice- yeah big boy, that’s my Daisy, you like her? Yeah, that’s the baby, are you a good boy? hmm?” You talked to the horse and he watched as you pulled a sugar cube from the shelf next to the stall and let the girl feed it to Coke. The big horse oh-so-gently took the cube from the girl, tickling her palm and she giggled. The horse huffed through his nose and threw his head a bit and you laughed. “Oh ho ho! Well, you liked that huh? I’d give yah another big boy but I don’t know if your rider would take too kindly to me fattening up such a pretty stallion, bet you make all those pretty broodmares happy huh? Yeah.” You laugh as he whinnies.

“Well, He took a liking to you quick.” Jack called, making himself known and getting closer to the stall. “Ol’ Coke here is usually a temperamental fella.”

“Who, this guy?” You smirk as the horse huffs again at Daisy’s hair making her giggle. “Why no, he’s a sweet fella. Ain’t yah big boy?” The horse bobs his head as if nodding in agreement and Jack chuckles.

“Don’t let him fool yah,” Tequila grumbled, eyeing the horse warily, “That menace picks on anybody that ain’t him.” He pointed at Jack with a glare and Jack chuckled.

“Now don’t be bitter sunshine, you’re just mad that he pushed you into the water trough last summer.” Jack grinned at you with a wink and you laughed. Then the girl on your hip tugged at your hair a bit and whispered in your ear. Like most children though, Daisy was not a good whisperer.

“Mama, wook, Cowboy.” She mumbled around her thumb, pointing to Jack’s Stetson. Oh how his heart melted, he knew he was a goner then and there.

“Oh man,” you gasped, “you’re right! I bet this is his horsey.” You nodded and the girls eyes twinkled with wonder.

“Horsey pwetty.” She nodded sagely, “Ask him mumma, wanna ride him.” She had the biggest eyes, her tiny curls were barely contained by the pigtails her hair was in. She was a pretty little baby, and a carbon copy of her momma, dressed in little denim overalls and a pretty flowered shirt. She was cute, almost too cute, he didn’t know how he’d survive the next month or so with those big eyes pleading with him to give her anything she wanted, he knew he would be too weak to say no, he has a hard time picturing anyone saying no to her, not even her momma. Speaking of the mom, she was beautiful. She had on a beat up Vietnam tiger stripe jungle fatigue with a patch reading ‘Brandy’ rolled up to the elbows. Her T-shirt read ‘Kentucky Strong’ and he recognized it as one of those charity shirts that raised money for the flooding in Eastern Kentucky. She had aviators perched on her nose and two dog tags around her neck, one that was clearly older than the other, one for dad one for her husband if he had to guess. The best thing about the outfit though, was the shorts, those beautiful legs on full display, so good looking he had to pry his eyes off of her with the strength of ten men.

Jack jumped in all at once, “Am I a cowboy sweet baby? What gave me away? Was it the belt buckle?” He playfully tugged on it and gave an exaggerated frown, the girl giggled a no, and he pointed to his boots. “Oh, must’a been my boots!” He kicked up a heel to show off the worn brown leather boots. The girl squealed and laughed again, and you watched delighted that your baby was having so much fun.

“No!” Daisy laughed again clutching her hands together while she giggled. “No it was the hat!”

“Oh! Why silly me!” He breathed a fake sigh of relief, “I forgot it was up there sugar! Can’t be a cowboy without the hat!” The little girl laughed again in delight and he grinned back. Tequila and Ginger stared on shocked, Whiskey hadn’t been this carefree in a while, this little girl was working miracles. “Oh but I’ve gone and forgotten my manners,” Jack smacks his forehead dramatically “I never got your name Little lady! My name is Jack, what yours?” He extended a hand to the girl and she beamed, tucking her tiny hand in his.

“I’m Daisy!” She grinned, shaking his hand.

“Well, ain’t that just first class, you’re as pretty as a flower, so you must be Daisy!” He grinned at the delighted little girl, then whispered to her conspiratorially, “And who’s this?” He pointed at you and Daisy nodded, her mouth an ‘o’.

She introduced you and Jack smiled, tiling his hat to you, “Pretty name for a pretty lady, I’m Jack Daniel’s, code name Whiskey ma’am, pleased to make your acquaintance, and this here’s Coke.” He patted the horse’s flank as he stepped closer to you.

Your smile was just as magnetic as your daughter’s, and Jack felt his knees buckle, “Pleased to meet you Whiskey, Jack and Coke is my favorite combo, so I got high hopes this’ll be a good arrangement.”

And it was, y’all got on like a house on fire, and now he was very used to having you in his home. He hadn’t invited anyone into his space like this since his wife died. He couldn’t find the appeal in it, but there was something about you and this little girl he couldn’t seem to shake.

You were more than willing to tackle any task, and it was one of the things that he enjoyed most about you. In the months you had been there you helped around the Ranch any way you could. Jack had gotten used to doing the chores on his own, but he was suprised by how easily you worked yourself into his routine. It wasn’t a big Ranch, it was near the distillery in Oldham county, right smack in the middle between Louisville and La Grange. The ranch hosted his three horses, six chickens, two barn cats, and about 10 or so cows. In the mornings, you were up just as early as him, you alternated putting on the coffee, then he would deal with the horses (Coke, Julep, and Sazerac. You got a big kick out of their names, and he loved how you chuckled anytime he mentioned them.) and the cows, and you fed the chickens and the barn cats (Tom and Jerry, all the whiskey themed names). When you finished gathering eggs and greeting the cats, he would come back to you bouncing the baby on your hip while cooking breakfast.

“Well, you feed my animals and make my eggs, aren’t you handier than a pocket on a shirt.” He grinned one morning and you rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

“Well Cowboy, someone’s gotta feed you, black coffee and a Marlboro red aren’t breakfast, and they never will be.”

You were also a brilliant agent. Once you were settled, you and Jack started digging into anything you could find about the people who killed your husband, and you proved yourself an invaluable asset in intel gathering. You dug up more in a single hour than some men hoped to find in a lifetime, but it took its toll on you for sure. Day in day out combing over your husband’s files and trappings, staring at the inner mechanisms of his whole life and wonder what it would be like if he was here to finish all of his loose ends. He understood, and he hated that he couldn’t just take the pain for you, but it was a comfort to the both of you to have someone to talk to.

“Oh, the first week after his funeral was hell,” you sighed, playing with your daughters curls as she slept peacefully on your lap in the evening sun, “I kept trying to call him, to vent with him about how scared and tired I was, only to be reminded this wasn’t a deployment or a buissness trip, he was just… gone. Daisy was a mess too, cried for him every night, wouldn’t sleep until I showed her this video of him saying he loved her that he made her when he went on deployment. It broke my heart.” You sniffled and Jack felt his heart ache with sympathy.

“I know all about that hurt,” he sighed, handing you a beer and settling next to you on the big wrap around porch, “I’d keep rolling over and reaching for her in the middle of the night, I’d touch the cold sheets and I’d remember and it would hurt me every time.”

“Oh god yeah, took me weeks before I could truly sleep on my own again, I used to put one of his shirts on his pillow and sleep with it, it was the only way I could get myself to bed.” You sighed, nodding and sipping the drink.

“I used to spray her perfume on her pillow,” Jack nodded, “When I ran out I forced myself to sleep without it, It was months before I could get a full nights rest again.”

“I couldn’t imagine having to deal with all that alone,” you grimaced, “I at least had Daisy, I hate that you’re alone.”

“Well, I was alone, but I’m not anymore, I got you.” He slung an arm around your shoulder and you basked in the sun together until Jack felt you go lax in his grip. You had fallen asleep in his grasp, and he was shocked at how good it felt to have you be so vulnerable around him. It melted something in his chest. What was he gonna do with you.

You and Daisy just kept growing on him. His life was no longer just solitude and shoot outs, now it was a little more tea parties and tag and it was a very welcome change. You both had him wrapped around your fingers, every moment he wasn’t spending working on the project with you, or with Ginger and Tequila at Statesman, he was with you and your little girl.

One evening you were playing a game of tag, when Daisy just about caused them both a heart attack. You were running around and chasing each other in the small creek out the back of the ranch. Daisy was a doll in her little floral one piece, her wet hair plastered to her forehead and her little feet splashing away. You were a sight too, a black bathing suit with a cut out under your breasts showing off an ornamental tattoo that he really just wanted to-

“Come on Dada, catch me!” Time froze when the little girl said it and your jaws dropped, when you finally met each others gaze, you snapped out of it and turned to your daughter.

“No sweetie, that’s-“ you tried but the little girl cut you off.

“I know mumma. It’s otay though, Dada is no here, so this is my OTHER dada. It’s otay to have two dada.” She smiled and meandered to Jack, squeezing him in a hug. The little girl was barely knee high to a grass hopper, but she had hit him with that bombshell so hard she might as well have been a giant. Then, she just toddled off, finding interest in the stream once more, gathering rocks.

“Darlin I’m so sor-“ he began and you waved it away.

“Don’t worry Jack, she’s three. She adores you, and her only other frame of reference for a consistent male presence is her dad. Besides, if she had to pick another father figure, I’d want it to be you.” With that, you went to go stop her from tormenting a frog, and he stood there like a statue. The way you so casually said that amazed him, you put so much unwarranted faith in him, and it made the hardened cowboy turn to mush. Whatever this turns out to be though, one thing is for sure. He would do anything in the world for you and that little girl, and this just drove it home.

Weeks passed and you all just continued to get closer. Daisy asked for him as often as she did for you now when she’s upset, and he was now totally attached to their evening ritual of snuggling on the couch and watching Bluey. Every day you got closer and closer, and every day you found out more and more about your husbands killer, which ultimately led you to today.

Jack had left early, sun not even being up and the morning dew had just barely settled over the grass. Jack had gotten the mission from Ginger last night, and you had prepped and planned with him until he swore the plans were tattooed on the back of his eyelids.

It was over quick, he took them out and got his necessary intel and now you were safe. No blown cover, no second attempt at murder, just efficiency.

You’re free. You could go anywhere you want and you’d be safe. Where would you go? Your aunt was in Pburg, not too far off, a couple of tolerable hours away. Your late husband’s family though… they were in Texas, and that was more of a stretch.

This was miserable, thinking of all the ways you would leave him, though you weren’t even his to begin with. You were never his, you were just his charge, someone he was meant to protect, you and that perfect little girl. He got so caught up in it, he forgot to protect himself, and now he was faced with an old companion he never wanted to see again, loneliness.

He finally pulled up to the ranch, and Coke and the others were grazing in the first paddock near the front of the house, until the clever horse sees him and trots over with something in his teeth. It was a little stuffed rabbit, Coke had it by the ear and dropped it in his outstretched palm. It was like another painful reminder of what comes next. What would he do when his life was no longer bows and bunny rabbits. How would he go back to the way things were before. He sighed and made his way into the house, he was somewhat confused to see the front room totally empty. Normally, you’d be feeding the baby at this time, she would be sat in in the booster seat he’d bought for the kitchen table, in the little pink bib she always wore, probably making a mess, but then she’s squeal and wave at him and tell him to ‘come sit cowboy! I share!’ You’d laugh and tell her he had his own to eat, and she would frown and say ‘mine better!’ Today though, the kitchen was quiet and he felt his heart hammering in his chest, had you already gone? Were you so excited to be rid of him? But no, there was the sound of a shower, his shower specifically. He wandered into his room, and the sight there strengthened his resolve and told him that he needed to buck up and tell you how he feels, because he never wanted to sacrifice this.

Daisy was laying on his pillow, the stuffed horse toy that was an exact replica of Coke was tucked up under her chin, and she contentedly snored away on top of his quilt. The only light in the room was from the lamp on his bedside table, and a sliver leaking out from the cracked door to his bathroom. He carefully tucked the little girls blank is up over her chin, and listened to you humming from the shower. He was used to sharing his bathroom with you, normally you used the one near your room, but when you needed to shower and Daisy was napping, you preferred to use his so you could hear her if she cried. The warm smell of your shampoo was wafting from the bathroom, and your clothes were laid out on his bed. He ran a hand over them with a soft smile, the whole thing just felt so domestic. The sleeping child, the woman in his shower, the three sets of boots by his door, the pictures on his fridge. They all just felt so natural, filling his empty space with the feeling of home.

“Jack? Cowboy? Is that you?” You called from the bathroom.

“Yeah Sugar, it’s me.” He called back softly, padding his way into the bathroom and leaning up against the sink.

“How’d it go Whiskey? Did all go to plan?” He heard the hopefulness in your voice.

“Yeah sweetness, we did it. You’re free.” He could hear you pause at the melancholy in his voice and he was kicking himself. ‘Don’t ruin this for her Jacky, she should be happy.’ He heard the water kick off and handed you your Terry cloth robe and a towel. Once you were decent, you opened the curtain.

“You say that, but why does it sound like you just signed my warrant?” You asked curiously, squeezing the ends of your hair with a towel. He hadn’t realized how comfortable you had gotten around each other, but he supposed he shouldn’t be all that shocked. All the small touches, the snuggles, then tender moments. He was addicted to them now, and he never wanted to kick the habit.

“Well, I reckon you’d wanna get back to your life now there ain’t a target on your back.” He sighs, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair.

“Oh Jack,” you chuckled and his head whipped up when your palms came to rest on his cheeks. “These past few moths have been some of the happiest moments of my life since my husband passed. My daughter loves you, you are so good with her, she’s had nothing but smiles and laughter. You make my days better, you make me happy.” You caressed his cheek and he was hanging on to your every word, staring into those beautiful eyes he dreamed after these days. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it clearer baby, you’ll have to pardon me for that, Lord knows I’ve been a little scattered, but I have my life, it’s right here, with you. That is, if you’ll have me.”

He was stunned, here in his arms he held everything he never thought he’d have when his wife died. A beautiful woman, a sweet baby, laughter, light, and maybe even love. “Oh honey,” he gasped, pulling you in and finally kissing you like he’s wanted to since he saw you that first day in the stables. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me from you and that little girl.” You giggled and kissed him again, and again. When you finally broke away, you grinned up at him, and in this moment if you had asked him to kill an army of a thousand, he would have asked you what time you wanted him home for dinner.

“Well then cowboy? Why don’t you get gussied up and we can celebrate our new beginnings. Together.”

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