#they heard the sirens and everything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlinos · 3 months

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I can hear the siren (Siren part I)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, neighbors AU, strangers to “lovers”

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, voyeurism if you squint, hate sex kind of?, masturbation, thigh riding, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, Hyunjin’s a bit of an asshole but I love him

♡ Word count: 7.9k

♡ Synopsis: To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

♡ A/N: Once again, I cannot shut up and this ended up being much longer than I had originally wanted. One day, I will write a one-shot that’s less than 5k words, but today is not that day. I listened to Taeyeon’s Siren while writing this, hence the title. Also think the song’s a little fitting to the story.

part II →

Yet another night, yet another two hours of hearing your next-door neighbor moaning like a porn star for anyone to hear. The thin walls of your apartment, coupled with the fact that your room shared a wall with his own bedroom, make it impossible for you not to hear everything that happens inside his bedroom. Earphones have proven futile in muffling his voice, and you can only distract yourself with mindless YouTube videos for so long before you give up and simply wait for him to finish. Quite literally.

You noticed it was his routine: Fridays and weekends — the nights when he would graciously give the entire building a free show.

But that wasn’t all he did. And that’s what stirs up curiosity inside of you.

An hour before the unholy sounds begin, he spends a significant amount of time simply speaking, laughing loudly, and throwing the occasional suggestive comment here and there. But only his voice can be heard, and considering how damn thin the walls are, you can’t help but wonder why that is. Maybe his hookups aren’t into his long, drawn-out conversations, only there to get fucked and dip as fast as possible. Or perhaps it’s a girlfriend, and he enjoys gagging her. Your mind has had plenty of time to run wild with theories, seeing as he moved about a month ago, starting your own personal version of hell on his very first day.

You complained to your landlord three times now. On the first time, you were dismissed as being too sensitive to noise. Maybe invest in some earplugs, she suggested. The second time, after explaining through gritted teeth that perhaps the entire building could also hear him and it would be wise to give him a warning, she assured you that only your apartment had such complaints — after all, it was only the two of you on that floor. And, on your last attempt before you ultimately gave up, your landlord all but berated you for meddling in your neighbor’s business. She argued he was inside his apartment and could do whatever he desired.

And so, you accepted your fate.

As you walk out of the shower, your bliss at the realization that tonight is a Friday dissipates as soon as it dawns on you that you are in for three days in a row of your neighbor and his antics. You groan, reluctantly making your way toward your bedroom, your body aching after sitting at your desk at work all day. So sleeping on the couch was not an option; your limbs only ached even more the day after you did that to try and escape the raucous noise.

Like clockwork, at exactly ten p.m., his loud voice fills the small space of your bedroom.

“I’m actually going out tonight again, so we have to be quick,” he explains. “But you like it when I’m quick, don’t you? Like when I make you cum so fast you barely have time to understand what’s happening.”

You grimace at his words, burying yourself under your blankets. God.

“I’m going clubbing with a couple of friends,” He continues. “Hopefully, I’ll find a nice girl to take home, hm?”

Crossing out the word Girlfriend on your mental notes, you scoff. What a gentleman he is, letting his hook-up know he’ll have to fuck her fast so he can leave to meet another woman to take home.

“Maybe I’ll record a video for you if she lets me. Would you like that, seeing me fuck another woman? I bet you would.”

What the fuck. The word Girlfriend is added back to your list. Maybe the girl is into that shit, and you’re not one to kink shame so long as everything’s consensual. But you surely didn’t consent to knowing that information.

Soon enough, his voice drops to a sultry tone, and incessant hums spill from his lips. And the worst part of your night begins.

You hate to admit it — seeing as the guy makes you lose sleep and disturbs your peace since he’s graced the building with his presence — but his dirty talk, when coupled with his groans, becomes far less unpleasant and much more enticing. Every night, you struggle for an hour with the uncomfortable feeling of arousal between your legs, the way he alternates between praises and vulgar words causing a twinge inside of you. But you never dare to masturbate to the sound of his voice — that would be going too far. Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you follow your rule of waiting for him to finish whatever it is that he’s doing to then finally touch yourself. As you tightly shut your eyes, you focus on your upcoming work assignments, desperately trying to drown out the sound of his voice. Maybe boring yourself to sleep is your only escape.

“Oh, I know how wet you are just watching me — fuck,” he groans, a breathy scoff leaving his lips. “Don’t even gotta tell me. Just touch yourself, it’s okay.”

Your eyes shoot open as it feels as if he’s fucking talking to you. You shake your head, the awful feeling of embarrassment engulfing you in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“I know you want to,” His voice is unrelenting, reverberating through your dark room, punctuated by heavy sighs. “Do it for me, will you? Touch your pretty cunt for me.”

You feel your clit begin to pulse, and a loud groan escapes from your lips. So loud, in fact, you wonder if he heard you through the thin walls as well.

Fuck it, you tell yourself inwardly, it’s not like the guy will ever know what you’re doing.

The sound of his voice was as silky and dark as velvet, covering you wholly and clouding your judgment with each word. You allow your hand to slip underneath your sleep shorts, gasping as you find the fabric of your panties already soaking simply from hearing his words — almost begging, guiding you to let go of your reservations and touch yourself.

“Just like that. D’you like the sound of my voice?” He asked, voice breathless, a deep groan echoing through the walls. “Like hearing me moan for you? Bet you’d like it even more if I was fucking you.”

Your fingers delicately flick back and forth, teasing your clit, your mind now shamelessly imagining his fingertips, his tongue, his cock, anything he was willing to give you. You’re quick to lose yourself in this imagination, despite not knowing what the man looked like — you soon realize that wasn’t at all important, a dark shadowy figure hovering over you proving to be more than enough for you as you felt a rush of wetness pooling between your thighs when your neighbor let out a louder, guttural noise.

“Fuck, I’d love to be stretching that pussy out,” He chokes out, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any noise. You’re now hyper-aware that if you can hear him this loudly, he’d be able to hear you with the same amount of clarity.

Your embarrassment only goes so far, though, as you slip a finger into your cunt, your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering closed to better conjure up the fantasy your mind had been creating. You imagine his long fingers inside you in place of your own, the words he spilled almost nonchalantly being whispered directly into your ears. One finger soon turned into two, then three, the heel of your palm rubbing against your clit as you tilt your hips up. You throw away your last drop of inhibition as you indulge in vivid thoughts, imagining the shape and size of his cock and, most importantly, how it would feel as it filled you up. Your neighbor’s words almost faded into white noise, his grunting the only coherent sound in your ears.

Would he take his time with you, like he always did whenever you heard him? Teasing you for hours as he candidly talked about nothing in particular, rendering you unable to do anything but beg for him? Or would he be hasty, like tonight, his cock abruptly stretching you to the brim, making you feel every inch of his thick length? Would he rather finish on your breasts, your stomach, or maybe your face, taking a picture to keep as a souvenir he could show off to whoever he was with during these nights?

“Come with me,” His voice suddenly became clear once more, deep and hoarse as you imagine his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Think about how good it’d feel to have me come inside you, stuffing that little cunt while you milk me dry.”

You purse your lips as you feel your release approaching, coaxed purely by his words. The mental image of this stranger painting your insides with his release, all the while his intoxicating voice told you how good you were, how warm and tight you felt enough to have waves of pleasure wash over you, body tensing up as your orgasm surges through you.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel your consciousness come back to you. Your fingers leave your core as if you were just burned by fire, which is fitting as a feeling of burning embarrassment wraps around you tightly like a vice.

But the worst part is that the shame quickly ebbs away as you hear your neighbor’s chuckle, the laugh of a stranger you had come to almost memorize.

“You know I’m always glad to make you come. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, everything around you falls into a quiet stillness. You faintly hear as he shuts his front door, presumably leaving for that club he had mentioned, and you’re left to lie with your regrets.

This has just crossed a line, and although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel all that guilty, you still knew it was wrong. You had no choice but to confront the cause of your troubles yourself.

Unfortunately, that cause was a person you had just shamelessly fantasized about as you fingered yourself.

The next afternoon, you stand at your neighbor’s door, hesitant to knock. Since he mentioned going clubbing last night, you knew coming by in the morning would be futile, but you also know — sadly, all too well — that Saturday nights are when he’s the loudest, and he only stops well past midnight. You settled for the afternoon, preparing lunch as you rehearsed your words in your head instead of enjoying your weekend.

You knock twice, and that familiar voice soon rings through the door, asking for a moment. A minute later, your neighbor is standing in front of you, holding the door open with sleepy eyes that focus on you. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but surely not a tired-looking tall man with messy black hair wearing a pout on his lips, as if you just rudely disturbed him from his sleep (how ironic). From what you heard during the last month, you were ready to have to face a shirtless fuckboy, a permanent smirk etched onto his lips as he eyed you indifferently. Instead, you’re greeted by soft cheeks and half-closed eyes.

“Yeah?” Your neighbor croaks out, face still heavy with sleep.

You clear your throat, returning to the matter at hand. “I’m your next-door neighbor, I—”

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” he says before you can even finish your rehearsed opening sentence, his lips curling into a small smile. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Somehow, him being so soft is making you hate him even more.

“I wish I could say the same,” you mutter, “Y’know, you’ve been making my life a living hell since you moved in.”

He doesn’t answer, instead running a hand through his hair, the strands falling into place and away from his face. After a small nod, he opens the door all the way.

“Come on in,” he says, promptly walking inside and leaving you standing in the hallway all alone. You have no choice but to follow after him.

He snatches his cup of coffee from the counter, letting out a tired sigh as he collapses onto the couch and takes a big sip. You sit next to him and watch as he swallows slowly, humming contently, and only then speaking again.

“Why is that?”

You hold back another eye roll. “Well, you’re quite noisy at night,” you hesitantly begin, only now grasping just how awkward explaining this situation will be. “On Fridays and on the weekends, you’re… loud.”

And in an instant, you witness a complete shift in his entire demeanor right before your eyes. Like he’s possessed by something, his once sleepy eyes now bore into you with an intense gaze, and his lips curl into the smug grin you were expecting from the start.

“So you can hear me?” He asks as if you hadn’t just told him exactly that. You feel small under the weight of his darkened eyes, but you shrug, doing your best at feigning confidence.

“It’s pretty hard not to hear you,” you answer simply. “We share a wall, in case you didn’t know. I can hear everything you do in your bedroom.”

He raises a brow at your words as if they piqued his interest. But he doesn’t verbalize it; instead, he speaks in that same nonchalant tone you’re used to hearing through your bedroom wall, “You never told me your name. A bit rude, don’t you think?” He offers you his hand. “I’m Hyunjin.”

You scoff but shake his hand regardless, telling him your name with a sigh.

“You know what I think is rude?” You offer him a forced smile. “Keeping your next-door neighbor up all night with how fucking loud you are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. His gaze traces a path from your eyes to your lips before lingering on your thighs. You instinctively cross your legs, fingers smoothing down the fabric of your shorts. Locking his gaze with yours once more after a few seconds, he cocks his head to the side.

“So I’ve been keeping you up all night?” He muses, and you feel a warmth spread across your cheeks at the rough rasp in his voice.

It’s almost as if he knows what you did last night and is teasing you.

Although you know that’s impossible, your words still get choked up. Hyunjin was undeniably attractive — whether it was looking as soft as he did while answering the door or as if he could devour you with his gaze alone as he does now. You couldn’t be blamed for feeling flustered, especially after everything you heard this man saying and doing.

“Well,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. Showing your outrage at this entire situation is your best bet, so you allow for the anger you felt during all those sleepless nights to seep through your veins. “It’s kinda hard to sleep when you’re moaning like a porn star.”

But Hyunjin fully chuckles at that. “So I sound like a porn star?” He nods with an amused hum. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. Never mind anything you had thought upon seeing him open that door; Hyunjin is everything you thought he would be.

“Look, I didn’t come here to stroke your ego. You’re clearly doing just fine in that regard,” you grumble, and he scoffs beside you, leaning back on the couch with a smug expression you want to slap away from his pretty face. “I came here to ask if you could move whatever it is that you do to the living room, or maybe keep it down. I’m sure that’s not too much to ask.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue almost mockingly. “Oh, but it is too much to ask. I can’t really do any of those things. Sorry,” he shrugs, “The building has thin walls. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

You stagger at his words, his lack of common sense seemingly higher than you initially gave him credit for. You’re unsure whether to laugh in sheer disbelief or cuss him out as anger slowly bubbles up inside your chest. How unfairly attractive he looks at the moment isn’t helping your case — he spreads his legs further as he shifts on the couch, bringing his mug up to his full lips and watching you almost uninterestedly with half-lidded eyes.

Fuck this guy.

“What is it you do that’s so important that you can’t at least keep it down? Can’t your girlfriend get off without your obnoxious dirty talk? Is that it?”

Hyunjin shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Your dates, then. I honestly don’t care.” You roll your eyes, which elicits a small laugh from him. You have never wanted to punch someone so badly, all while also wanting them to rearrange your guts. “Whoever it is, whatever it is that you do, can’t we compromise and you be quiet, at least on Fridays? I get home from work exhausted and have to put up with your shit when all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Ah, but Fridays are the most important nights for me,” Hyunjin tells you with a condescending lilt in his voice. “That’s also not possible, I’m so sorry.”

“I see.” You suck in a deep breath, your eyes narrowing and hands curling into fists on your lap. “Then would it be possible for you to move your… activities to the living room?”

Hyunjin contorts his face, shaking his head while that grin is still etched onto his lips. “Yeah, no, that’s also not possible.”

“You’re extremely inflexible, do you know that?” You blurt out, “I’m not asking that you move out, I’m simply asking that you fuck whoever it is that you fuck every weekend somewhere else.”

His piercing gaze lingers on you briefly, as if he’s carefully considering his next words. Sighing, he sets his mug on the end table and sits up straight.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposes, carelessly ripping a piece of paper from the open sketchbook that lay on the coffee table and jotting something down. “Tonight, you wait for me to start my activities,” he says with a poorly concealed chuckle. “And then you go on this website. Maybe it’ll clear up some things inside your pretty little head. Can you do that for me?”

He hands you the note, eyes darting down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze. The tone of his voice is the same that echoes through your bedroom during those nights — exactly like the one that coaxed an orgasm out of you just last night, and you absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together.

You need to get out of here.

With a small nod, you swiftly stand back on your feet and walk toward the door of his apartment that was left wide open. You quietly mutter a goodbye as Hyunjin says something about it being a pleasure meeting you, all while amusedly staring at you.

It’s only as you close your front door behind you that you look down at the piece of paper that you subconsciously crumpled up. Scrawled in a messy handwriting is simply a website address:

fivestarcam.com

You furrow your brows, walking toward your bedroom as you rack your brain for how a website could possibly give you answers. It dawns on you, then — all the trouble you went through, and yet, no solution to your problem.

Ultimately, you decide you’ve already wasted too much of your patience on this man today, throwing the piece of paper on your bedside table and going about your day, enjoying the tranquility of your apartment while you can.

Night comes too fast, the sun setting outside unbeknownst to you as you lie on the couch for nearly three hours, your focus solely on the plot of the movie playing on your phone. Soon enough, ten p.m. rolls around, and you drag your tired body toward your bathroom. You take a shower with no rush, knowing full well that by the time you walk into your bedroom, Hyunjin’s activities will already have started.

Sure enough, you’re greeted by a drawled-out groan as soon as you enter your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto your bed. Your bedroom had always been comforting, your bed almost like a safe haven from all the stress life threw your way. Yet now it’s simply the place where you lie awake for hours, simultaneously vexed and uncomfortably turned on.

You lie still for a while, Hyunjin’s vulgar chatter like the background music to your spacing out, until you remember the piece of paper he gave you earlier. How would a website clear up any of your confusion? And, more importantly, why should you even care enough to find out? From the little interaction you had with the man, you know for a fact Hyunjin will remain unchanging in his obnoxious ways.

However, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, and the mere prospect of understanding this annoyingly enigmatic man even a tiny bit has you hurriedly picking your laptop off the floor and typing out the website address on your browser. Curiosity killed the cat.

The first thing that greets you is a message asking that you verify being over the age of eighteen. All you have to do is click a button, which seems counterintuitive, but you have little time to worry about that when your screen is filled with preview thumbnails of several live broadcasts.

You’ve heard of camming websites before, of course, but you didn’t know they were still a thing nowadays, what with the rise of Only Fans and other more independent ways to go about making money like this.

Your eyes scan the page with agape lips. Men and women — some in their underwear and some already naked, some showing their faces and some wearing masks. And then, your eyes land on a particular thumbnail. At the Top Cammers of The Month section, on the number one spot, is a fully clothed man with familiar long black hair. Only the bottom of his face can be seen due to his camera angle, but that is more than enough as your gaze fixes on his full lips.

That’s undeniably Hyunjin. Your neighbor, Hyunjin.

Before you can make sense of your actions, your fingers are already hovering above the touchpad as you watch the thumbnail image change into a new one. Curiosity is eating away at you, and you can’t deny that your nosy mind is eager to finally see Hyunjin rather than only hear him.

Ultimately, you decide this is ridiculous.

But your twitching fingers brush against the touchpad just as you move to close your laptop, promptly clicking the live video, your screen now filled with the image of Hyunjin in his bedroom. He’s shirtless now, palming himself through his sweatpants — the same ones he wore this afternoon.

“You wanna know how clubbing went last night?” He says with a grin, and you now understand his incessant talking is merely him answering comments from his viewers. Various different names fly through the right side of your screen, some with tips attached to their comments and some simply drooling over Hyunjin as he essentially sits in front of the camera doing nothing.

A cocky smile is spread on his lips once you shift your attention back to him.

“I guess you’re good at following orders,” he chuckles. You then realize your laptop’s volume is on high, and the speaker’s noise permeates through your wall and into Hyunjin’s bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, and you scramble to find your earphones in your bed.

You’re gnawing on your bottom lip as you plug them in, suddenly too aware of the fact that he can hear you just as well as you can hear him. Hyunjin’s smile shifts into a small laugh, his hand wrapping around his length through his sweatpants, the firm outline of his cock straining against the fabric. You feel a tingling sensation spread through your body, your inner muscles clenching as you watch the way his hand squeezes along the thick outline, the muscles of his stomach contracting as he lets out a broken sigh.

This feels wrong, as if you’re nothing more than a pervert watching Hyunjin for your own pleasure. But then again, it was he who gave you the website address in the first place. Why else would he have done that if not for you to watch him?

“I have a special someone watching tonight,” he murmurs, and you can just imagine his gaze right now — his eyes hooded and piercing, locked onto the camera with the same intensity as when he looked at you earlier today.

Hyunjin’s hand reaches inside his sweatpants, withdrawing his cock from the constraints of the dark fabric before you can make sense of what’s happening. Your gaze remains fixed, unable to look away from the red, swollen head that stands out against his pale skin. With lazy movements, he begins stroking himself, the precum dripping from the tip easing the glide of his hand. You bite the inside of your cheek as more arousal leaks from you, gathering in your panties.

“Hope she likes watching just as much as she liked listening to me last night,” Hyunjin rasps out, and you immediately close your laptop, throwing it to the side before burying your face in your pillow.

He knows you got off to his voice. He has to know.

And, unfortunately, your brain is currently too clouded by lust to function properly, and the only logical solution you can come up with is to go knocking at his door tomorrow.

You stand in front of Hyunjin’s door at the same time as yesterday, a strange blend of anger and curiosity making you knock frantically until he answers with that annoyingly alluring smirk on his lips.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Hyunjin asks before you can even utter a word, his voice filled with a goading tone.

You push past him, walking into his apartment with a scowl. “Why did you send me that?”

He only shrugs, closing the door behind him before stretching his arms above his head with a sigh. “Needed you to understand why I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s my job,” he reasons, “I figured showing you was more effective than telling you.”

A scoff involuntarily falls from your lips, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “So you just sent me to a website full of porn without even asking me if that was okay? I don’t care if that’s your fucking job, I never asked you—”

“Did you stay till the end?” He asks, a lazy grin on his lips as his gaze wanders across your face. Clearly, he’d completely ignored every word that came out of your mouth.

“Hyunjin, are you even listening to me?”

“I was thinking about you, y’know?” He continues, taking a step toward you. “Was really easy to come when I knew you were watching me.” He cages your body against the door with his, both hands resting beside your head. His dark gaze locks onto you, causing your breath to hitch. “All I could think about was how you were secretly listening to me all this time. Such a dirty girl.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. You want to tell him you weren’t secretly listening to him; you were merely thrown into this situation against your will. But his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, lingering before roaming over the swell of your breasts, causing your thoughts to blur and your words to die in your throat.

“Kept thinking about how I never heard you,” he says, almost as if he’s wondering aloud. “When was the last time someone fucked you properly?”

His gaze finally travels back up to yours, and the fog of desire clouding his eyes is unmistakable. The moment you knocked on his door, you knew this would happen. You weren’t naïve, and Hyunjin wasn’t stupid; the moment you pushed past him and into his apartment, you both knew where this was going.

“Don’t have time to go on dates,” you murmur as Hyunjin leans down, humming low on his throat.

“Well,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “You got to listen to me, got to watch me… Don’t you wanna know what it feels like?”

You can only nod, and Hyunjin immediately presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He wedges his knee firmly between your thighs, as if he’s silently demanding that you give in to him. Little does he know you’re already way past that point.

Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin studies your features for a beat, the pad of his thumb gliding across your bottom lip as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“You really want this?” He asks, and you can’t help but feel he does it simply for the pleasure of hearing you beg.

But you happily comply either way.

“Please,” you breathe out, and Hyunjin chuckles, firmly pressing his thumb into your mouth and watching as you wrap your lips around it with a contented hum. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Hyunjin pushes his thigh against your core, the seam of your shorts creating a delicious friction against your clit. You can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, and a sigh falls from your lips, your hands gliding up around his shoulders. You have no reservations left in your body; the only thing replaying inside your mind at the moment is the image of Hyunjin’s cock on your laptop. He was right. You were dying to know what it would feel like.

His strong hands firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move against his thigh, each back-and-forth motion increasing the pressure on your aching clit. It felt too much, yet not enough at the same time. But just as you’re about to plead for more, Hyunjin’s pressing his lips to yours again and swallowing down your voice. His tongue slides against yours, the taste of coffee and smoke lingering in your mouth as he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling gently before letting go.

You feel your mind go fully hazy as Hyunjin lifts his thigh, bringing you up to your tiptoes, his muscles flexing and prompting you to roll your hips faster, harder.

“Who would’ve thought, huh? Just minutes ago you were acting like I was the worst person alive,” He lets out a low chuckle, amused, and your grip on his neck tightens as you feel the familiar vexation he brings out of you bubble up inside your chest. “Now you’re humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, your brain too lust-hazed to conjure up a better response. You don’t particularly care what he thinks of you so long as he keeps his bruising grip on your skin, guiding you to roll your hips against him.

Hyunjin trails kisses down the skin of your neck, settling at the dip of your collarbone and sucking on the skin while you eagerly quicken your speed. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, undoubtedly marking you, while his thigh begins to bounce against your cunt, and you can feel the familiar aching warmth of your orgasm beginning to tighten in your stomach. But just as you’re about to be hit by the release you’re so desperate for, Hyunjin’s hands leave your hips and slide down to your ass, any stimulation you had before coming to a halt as he picks you up and makes his way to the living room.

“What the fuck?” You all but yell, earning you a hearty laugh from Hyunjin. “I was close, you asshole.”

He roughly throws you onto the couch, a condescending pout etched onto his lips.

“But that’s no fun for me, is it, baby?” He hovers over you, spreading your thighs apart and slotting himself between them. In stark contrast to his words, he gently lifts your shirt over your head, feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. “Greedy girls don’t get to come.”

You feel your insides clenching at his words, and although you despise the effect he has on you, you’re already here, laid out before him, so you might as well indulge him. You gently push Hyunjin back until he sinks into the sofa, legs lazily spread apart and half-lidded eyes fixated on you. As soon as you clutch at his shirt, he promptly tugs it over his head in one fluid motion, and you attach your lips to the bare skin of his stomach, trailing kisses down the expanse of his torso.

You waste no time tugging his sweatpants down and out of your way, his cock now hanging heavily before you, just as pretty as it had seemed on that little screen. Hyunjin’s hand soon wraps around himself, stroking lazily while you watch the precum dribble from his tip. Tentatively, you grab the base of his cock, bringing your tongue to the head and tantalizingly lapping at it. Hyunjin lets out a quiet gasp, his own hand leaving his length and tangling in your hair, guiding you forward toward his cock. You part your lips and suck the head into your waiting mouth, hands now stroking his length at a slow pace while you lick up his slit, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. You hold back a chuckle when you feel him twitch under your touch, a soft whimper falling from his throat.

Hyunjin’s hips buck up into your lips, and you promptly open your jaw wider and slide his whole length down your throat slowly. You weren’t lying when you said you had no time for dates, which is why you find yourself struggling a bit. It truly had been a while since you had a proper fuck, but you would never give Hyunjin the pleasure of hearing you admit it. Breathing through your nose, you’re finally able to move up and down his cock, swallowing all of him. Your eyes well up as his fingers tug harshly at your hair, shoving your mouth back down the entirety of his thick length. A choked-out whimper falls from your throat, and you instinctively move your gaze toward his.

“God,” he rasps out, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip and eyebrows knitting together. “You take me so well.”

You promptly remove your lips from him with a loud pop, precum and saliva dribbling down your chin as you struggle to suppress a laugh at the utter indignation on his face.

“I doubt you could fuck me if I let you come,” you shrug, and Hyunjin’s expression softens, a scoff falling from his lips.

Before you can say anything else, he’s already pushed you back onto the couch, easily flipping you over so your face is pressed into the cushion. He snakes a hand under your stomach and lifts your hips, quickly working to rid you of your shorts before pressing his cock against your clothed ass.

He leans down, lips pressed against your ear — much like it was in your fantasy back in your bedroom — and whispers, “You need me that badly? I can feel how soaked you are, and all you did was hump my leg.”

You grumble under your breath, but it goes ignored by Hyunjin as he grips your hips and slides his cock under the fabric of your panties, stroking himself along your soaking slit with a low groan. You can feel your underwear gradually dampen more as his precum mixes with your own arousal, the sheer cloth clinging to his cock with each thrust.

Hyunjin’s hand splayed across your lower back, causing you to arch your body and press your hips back instinctively. He chuckles, hand coming down onto the supper flesh of your ass with no warning, a sharp whimper falling from your lips.

“I told you greedy girls don’t get to come,” He reiterates, clicking his tongue and grabbing a large handful of your ass before tugging your panties down your legs. You quietly hoped the trees outside obscured enough of his window, otherwise you’d be in for some interesting elevator rides with your other neighbors. With a hiss, Hyunjin’s thumb presses against your clit before gliding along your wet folds. “Soaking wet,” he mutters, eyes glazed over while he watches your slick coat his finger.

You simply hum, not wanting to stroke his ego any more than you already had by begging him earlier. But you’re unable to contain the gasp that leaves your lips as he pushes his hips forward, the swollen tip of his cock gliding against your warm core once, twice, all while Hyunjin’s hands travel across your ass and thighs. You’re sure he’ll tease you until you give in and beg, but it seems his facade is quick to crumble. He impatiently wraps a hand around his length, finally guiding himself toward your entrance, seamlessly gliding into you with a heavy sigh.

He stills for a second, gaze transfixed by the way your cunt stretches around his thick cock. Until he suddenly pulls out of you before snapping his hips forward again, then again, until he sets a rhythm of deep, fast strokes that have you rocking back and forth on the couch. Pulling yourself up to rest on your forearms, you choke out a loud moan, Hyunjin’s cock twitching inside you at the sound.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, strong arms encircling your body once more, this time pulling you close to him until your back presses against his chest. Hyunjin’s thrusts grew more forceful, the sound of skin slapping together echoing through his small living room as he relentlessly pumped himself into you. His hand wraps in your hair, yanking your head back and humming against your ear, “Go on, you can moan for me,” he hisses, “I know how good it feels.”

Fuck. His ego is surely something you would never get used to.

But you let go, freely groaning at the feeling of his cock pistoning into you. You can feel the curve of his grin against your cheek.

“Like that, I know how much you like it,” he rasps out, “Just as much as you liked touching yourself to my voice like a little slut.”

“Fuck off, you—” you huff, your words cut off by a drawn-out mewl as Hyunjin’s fingers firmly pressed down on your clit, flattening the swollen bud. You couldn’t control yourself after that, desperate whimpers and choked-out moans falling from your lips with each harsh thrust of his hips.

Your sounds seem to stir something inside of him, and his movements grow more erratic, his fingers circling your clit hastily. A crescendo of arousal and pleasure envelops you as more curses tumble from Hyunjin’s lips against your ear, his hand gripping your cheek and pulling you into a messy kiss.

You clench around him, body shaking with the force of your climax as you seek Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around your body for purchase. He continues pounding into you, and you feel yourself squirm, your vision going blurry from the stimulation.

“Gonna come,” he hisses against your lips, “Where do you want it?”

And you’re too far gone at this point, whimpering, “Anywhere you want.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath, pulling out while his hand finds your lower back once more, pushing you onto the couch before flipping your pliant body over so you’re facing him. You watch with hazy eyes as he strokes himself feverishly over your body, his cum soon shooting onto your breasts.

His unreadable gaze lingers on you for a beat and a half before he nonchalantly tucks himself back into his sweatpants and heads toward the hallway. You sit up on the couch, limbs aching, and chuckle to yourself. This was not your proudest moment, but you surely didn’t regret it.

You don’t expect aftercare from someone like him, so you resign yourself to searching for your discarded shirt. But Hyunjin’s tall frame appears before you, towel in hand before you can even stand up. His touch is gentle as he cleans your chest, and although the gesture is somewhat sweet, it feels extremely awkward.

“Really liked fucking you,” he tells you with a grin, “But you gotta leave now. I’m going live later, and I also gotta go to the club tonight, so I have to rest. But it was fun.”

And you simply scoff at his words, rising to your feet to dress yourself as quickly as possible. It was a bit baffling how he could fuck you the way he did, then tell you he’s off to pick up more girls at a club immediately after. But what did you expect? Hyunjin’s ego and arrogance were clear to you from day one.

“Why the fuck do you go clubbing so much, anyway?” You question as you head toward the front door, and Hyunjin chuckles behind you. “Is that your hunting ground or something?”

“You could say that,” he simply says.

As you unlock his door and step out into the hallway, Hyunjin’s voice calls out to you. Turning to look at him, you’re met with that familiar smirk adorning his lips.

“We can do this again anytime you want,” he assures, and the mere thought of letting him touch you again makes you roll your eyes in disdain.

“Yeah right.”

If only you knew then just how awfully torturous it would be to listen to him, knowing what he was doing — most importantly, knowing what it felt like to have him.

Lust completely clouds your judgment when it comes to Hyunjin, and you soon find yourself coming back to his apartment until it becomes an annoyingly pleasurable habit.

Every day, when he hears you get home from work, your phone buzzes with a text asking that you come over and help him ‘warm up for his job.’ The nights of suffering in your bedroom have transformed into watching him from the corner of his room, enthralled with the way he can make himself come on camera so eagerly and later fuck you with just as much vigor.

It’s a nice arrangement, but definitely not one you see yourself in for the long run. Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but you’re not foolish enough to anchor your feelings to someone like him. It’s not his job that’s the problem, but mostly his attitude toward life. He belongs to nobody, while you yearn to belong to someone. Routine is the last thing on his mind, while you revel in its comfort. You could never be with someone like him.

But it is a nice arrangement.

So you find yourself back in his bed again today, his heavy cock in your mouth as he tugs harshly on your hair, painting the back of your throat with his cum. Except this time, he doesn’t immediately ask you to leave.

“What?” You ask, “Don’t you have to go clubbing or something?”

“It’s my day off,” he shrugs, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close and falls back into bed. You furrow your brows, detangling yourself from him.

“Day off? From what, picking up girls?”

Hyunjin chuckles, eyes sleepy. “I work at the club,” he simply says. “I’m a host, I just act like I go clubbing when I talk about it during my lives ‘cause my viewers can be a bit stalkery.”

“What?”

“Have you heard of The Siren?” He asks, and you hum, recalling a faint memory of some of your co-workers mentioning the club in passing. “That’s where I work.”

You nod slowly, still confused. “What exactly does a host do?”

“Well, basically, I get to make money just by making lonely women feel wanted.”

You can’t help but scoff at his crude description. “And do you fuck them?”

“Well, yeah,” he answers like it’s obvious. “It’s part of the job.”

“Fucking hell,” You let out a hearty laugh, to which Hyunjin shoots you a questioning look. “Your sex drive really should be studied.”

His lips upturn into a smirk, and his arms reach for you again, beckoning you back into his embrace. “No need to be jealous, baby. I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you into his chest. He threads his fingers through your hair, and you can’t help but feel… awkward.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Hyunjin.”

He hums. “Sure, but you still let me fuck you.”

You two stay that way for a while, his fingers massaging your scalp as he presses a kiss to your head now and then. It feels disorienting, like a sudden shift from everything Hyunjin had been until now. He was never caring or sweet, he never kissed you if you weren’t fucking, and he surely never cuddled you. Your face involuntarily contorts into a grimace.

You detach yourself from him, getting up from the bed and telling him you’ll see him later. But Hyunjin is grabbing at your arm with a smile.

“Come on, don’t be sad,” he giggles as you try to free yourself from his grip. “I’m really not the type of guy you should have fallen for, anyway.”

You still at his words, face contorting into pure befuddlement. “Fallen for? Who the fuck says I’ve fallen for you?”

And Hyunjin simply scoffs, letting go of your arm as his smile shifts into his characteristic grin. “Well, there’s a reason I’m number one among the hosts at The Siren.”

“Hyunjin, those girls aren’t exactly after you for your personality,” you deadpan. “You’re really nothing worth falling for.”

His grin slowly fades, and it’s his turn to have confusion take hold in his eyes. “What?”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting this. Almost as if he was expecting you to have truly fallen for him simply because he… is him. And you can’t help but chuckle at the situation.

“Hyunjin,” you call out to him sweetly, and his gaze is back on you immediately. “You’re a nice fuck, but that’s really it. Don’t worry about me falling for you.”

You can swear you see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but it’s likely only your imagination. He opens his lips to speak but promptly closes them again. He simply stares up at you from where he’s sat on the bed and almost looks sweet. If you didn’t know him, you would undoubtedly be charmed by this convincing facade. You have to give it to him; you do understand why he’s number one at his job.

“But…” He trails off, shaking his head. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “We can keep fucking until I find something better.”

You run your fingers through his long hair and make your way to the door, leaving him with an expression frozen in bewilderment.

Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but he’ll never be yours.

But that’s not a problem, as you surely will never be his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz

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hrdenha · 1 month

Text

— things they'll never know | s.jy

SYNOPSIS: a visitor at night doesn't sound so bad, isn't it? Not when it's your step brother who you spend your time fantasizing to.

PAIRINGS: stepbrother!sim jaeyun x virgin!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI! CONTROL WHAT YOU CONSUME. age gap, jake would be five years older than y/n who's now in college. loss of virginity. soft yandere jake although you really dont know what goes inside his head. strong fantasies by jake. yn being innocent but not so innocent. after shower escapades. silent touches here and there. endearment. IDK ANYMORE JUST READ. not edited, but hope y'all enjoy!

His home was silent when he got home from work. What can he expected when he's living alone? But sometimes he can imagine that you're here with him instead of your parents house. You're basically the reason why he bought a house much larger for a person living alone. He can imagine you reading a few books in the garden's patio, or play with layla in the living room, or maybe— fucking you in the kitchen as you tried your best to wash the dishes. Having your favorite skirt pushed up on your body as he fuck you with one leg up, your breast bouncing in every thrust he made.

And the best thing he wanted to do, fucking you in a room full on your pictures. Doing everything he can think of to have your pleasure out of you while being surrounded by the pictures he silently took whenever he had the time. Some pictures being your family's, you and jake together with your father and his mother... all smiles. As if the both of you didn't touch each other inappropriately. What would your father thinks if he knew every little thing that jake did and will do to his daughter?

Jake wasn't a saint. He knew he needed you, in more ways than he admitted to you. But, it's fine. You'll come around eventually. Maybe one day, you're the one who's trying to desperately cling on him begging for something jake will gladly give. He just have to wait.

After refreshing himself with a glass of cold water, he finally ascend the stairs towards his room. His senses immediately welcomed by the sweet scent of vanilla lingering in the air. The soft sound of water rushing was heard at the second door on the hallway, just beside his room. He stopped, the scent envelop his mind like a siren's curse hypnotizing it's prey to walk further into their trap. He didn't even heard the sound of water came into halt.

The impression of being alone was now thrown in the trash as jake walked in front of the door to knock. His hands doesn't even had the chance to make contact with the wooden door when it swung open revealing your small frame in front of him. The sweet redolence of vanilla scent became prominent each second passed that the door was opened.

Jake's breath was taken away from his lungs. You were standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a small white towel hugging your curves preventing everyone... most especially him to see everything. Your skin glisten from the water droplets that were kissing your soft skin; your wet hair was elegantly slicked back down on your back. He can perfectly picture your fingers slowly combing your hair as you take your bath.

"Jakey!" Jake internally flinched when he heard your cheerful voice. He look straight into your eyes as though he wanted to read your mind. 'fuck it!' He cursed before taking you by surprise, kissing you as if there was no tomorrow and to his surprise, you respond. He thought you'll scream at him, even slap him but no you fucking open your lips for him.

You groaned on his lips, hands snaking into jake's neck while he push your weight agasint the now closed bathroom door. He pushes his knee closer to you, practically letting you grind your core onto it by yourself.

"Look at that, flower. Do you want jakey touching you?" You nodded but jake decided it wasn't enough. "Use your words" He growled taking in your flushed face. "Mmm- I do want you touching me, jakey" You replied breathlessly on his neck. Jake's hand tug at the flimsy white towel causing it to drop and completely flash your bare body in his eyes. Jake cursed taking in the sight in front of him. He felt a surge of hot blood flowing through his veins and then to the very tip of his dick. Not now. Have patience, jake. Fuck.

He let himself touch you. His hands travelling down your soft skin, even flicking your nipples with his tongue.

"Can you ride my face, flower? I'll promise jakey will make you feel good."

It's been a week since that stunt the two of you pulled. After making you cum with his mouth, nothing more than that happened again in your disappointment, but that didn't stopped Jake in making advances. Giving subtle and not so subtle touches here and there. Grabbing your boobs just fine and saying it was all an accident. Or, that he wants to give you a massage and that came with a super close massage on your inner thighs giving accidental touched on your clothed pussy.

But then, you were still all smiles to him, as if nothing happened. So good in just receiving what he gives. Even closing your eyes whenever a certain touch got more desperate than the earlier ones but then again, you were receiving it innocently. As if being touched like this by your step brother is just a normal thing. As if your pussy didn't shake from the pleasure he just gave you the first day you moved in.

It was the start of summer vacation and instead of going with your parents, you decided to not go and stay in the country with him. With an excuse of wanting to have a brother-sister bonding and giving them their own 'time' together. That's a nice thing to say, right? No suspicions.

As the day progress, so is Jake's touches. Today is no different. Both of you in the theater room, watching a movie that both of you knew was long unnoticed for. The room was large enough for 20 people but despite the wide selection of comfy sofa, you decided that sitting on Jake's lap was the comfiest.

Nothing happened after you did, except from the 'accidental' grinding of your hips as you try to find a 'comfy position', both of you keep on watching together after that with occasional munch and drink from the food you ready.

Things escalated when you decided to step up your game, grabbing Jake's timid hands and putting it on your tummy making sure he was touching you directly on your skin. That's the reason why you wear a loose crop top shirt and a matching skirt with a cotton shorts that's thin enough to be called undies.

It seems like the man understand your purpose. He silently though shamelessly touched where you needed him to. He didn't react when he realized you're not wearing anythhng underneath, trying to keep his cool. Trying not to push you down and fuck you like an animal with no regards if you'll get hurt or not. That's what you should get for trying to push your luck but instead, the thing he pushed is your top. Pushing the material just enough on top of your breast for an easy access. The only thing he didn't do is touch you down there. Just a few inner thigh strokes wouldn't make the cut and you knew that he knew that, you're not the one whose feeling inadequately and deprived, the tent in his pants screams the same. And it feels like he was doing this on purpose whether he's teasing you or himself.

"I'm sleepy now, jakey..." You mumbled turning around to him before kissing the corner of his lips— you don't have a problem kissing him directly on the lips? — then pulling down your top which stopped his hands. "Goodnight" That's the last thing you said before walking to your room, the wetness in between your legs reminds you evidently of your step brother.

It was late at night, dreams are starting to work their way onto you albeit slowly, "Hey, flower..." The bed dipped and you heard a sound of shuffling from behind. "You asleep?"

You hummed, hoping it will be enough to answer his question. No, you're not. How can you, when you spend the last hours fantasizing about your stepbrother. Your finger weren't even enough to make you calm down. You still wanted more.

"Can't fall asleep"

"Can I help you fall asleep? Hmm, flower?" Jake whispered nuzzling by your neck as you lay on your back.

"Yes please", When the confirmation came out, jake couldn't help but groan. How can you be such a good, good, good girl just for him?

"Okay, just relax... let— jakey do his thing" That's the last thing you heard before a pair of hands travelled across your body, touching and kneading with lust and need. So tender and gentle with matching butterfly kisses over your clothes.

Jake pushed your top upwards, revealing your breast that never fails to make him hard. It's not small and not so big, just enough... just perfect fit whenever he let his hands cupped it. Now his mind is wandering to how it would bounce as you ride him. He can't keep himself from touching it after the fact that you silently give him a go signal to have his way on them earlier. And, just like earlier, it immediately respond by how fast it hardened.

His hands then continues that stopped at your waist, massaging it before making you open your legs, having it settle on either side of his body. Jake pushed closely, kissing your inner thighs with affection. Feeling his hot breath near your core made goosebumps rise on your skin. It took him some time before finally deciding to pull the material to the side that covers your nakedness.

"Shit—" He lowly cussed. Your eyes opened at that, peaking over him wordlessly asking what happened. "No panties, flower?"

"It's comfy..."

He snickers, eyes sparkling as he look down on you, "No, we both know that's not true flower." Not when you're this wet. "I bet you're waiting me to do this... hm?" You felt a finger tracing your slit, gently... softly, painfully as if a wind just traced your wetness just to tease you. "Just like earlier at the theater room?

"No teasing... jakey, please"

"Sorry, flower. Can't help myself. Is this all for me? Because of me?" And again, the tip of his finger ghosted over your line. You desperately chased it, unconsciously raising your hips just to let his warmth touch you.

Jake hummed, finally letting your wetness coat his fingers. Firmly rubbing your slit with the pad of his middle finger, making sure that every thrust would send pleasure on your clit. Wetness never stopped, the same time whimpers came out of your mouth.

And so, he let the same finger thrust inside. Slowly, having his finger feel the hotness from your walls before adding another digit. You moaned in response when he stared pumping it, can't keep himself from smiling just from the feeling of your walls. "...just my fingers, baby, and your pussy won't let it leave."

Jake let himself watch as you give yourself away for the pleasure. Look at you, writhing in pure bliss. What can your parents say when they know that the only time they can hear your voice raise was the time you where moaning in pleasure as your brother fingers you? Bet you can even be louder when it's his dick that do the work.

Your arms snake around his neck pulling him closer to enclose him with a kiss that jake gladly took, fighting for dominance that he's clearly winning. The same thing he wanted to do, dominate you.

Moans become louder as well as your breaths became heavier. Jake picked up his pace, finger you as he played your breast with his mouth. Can't have them go unnoticed, he love the way your boobs move as he fingers you. Your walls started tightening, and so is jake's cock twitch inside his boxers. With his fingers still thrusting, jake finally felt your orgasm.

He immediately dived down your pussy, licking your juices wholeheartedly as you whimper from how good he was making you feel.

"I want more, jakey...please"

Jake lick your pussy one last time before looking at you. Trying to fight the smirk that keeps making its way on his lips when he heard despiration in your voice, then faking the sadness in his face is just an easy thing to do.

"But I can't flower. I can't possibly do that to you. We know the rules right?" Jake keeps pushing your buttons, he should be. It's about time you choose, right? But, maybe he can have his way just this night. "I don't even know if you really wanted this. You're the one who told me that rule."

"But— I do. I want to. Let's forget that rule. I... I don't know what I'm saying that time" You replied breathlessly. And, jake felt he just win the lottery. He really had you where he needed. Letting you realize on your own that you want him as much as he wants you. Making you want the same thing you think should be forbidden from the start of this god forsaken relationship

"You really want me to help you, flower? Is that the reason why you eagerly wanted to spend your vacation in my house? You even rejected the idea of switzerland with our parents just so you can be here."

You tried to nod but stopped, he wouldn't like that. "Yes, I do. please." Trying to make your voice clear, but failed miserably just from the orgasm you had a few minutes ago.

"but how can I do that to you? you haven't even seen my cock yet. What if it scares you?" Jake continues to ask. His voice can make people believe that he's really concerned but the small patch of precum staining his boxer says otherwise.

"Let me see it. I promise I can take it." He hummed kissing your forehead before pulling you to sit up as he let himself do the same on the bed. "Then, take it out flower. Come on, here..." Jake guide your hand on top of his clothed tent, before using his to support his body weight as he watched you intently.

You give it an experimental squeeze, and jake can't help but groaned. "It's— hard..." You then pulled the material down, you didn't even need to pull his cock out when it willingly revealed itself to you. "...and big"

The man giggled from your reaction. "That's all you, baby. That's because of you." He whispered tracing your cheeks as you keep your eyes on his dick in awe.

"I did this?" Jake nodded, "That's why you should take responsibility. Now, how about giving it attention? Let's say a few licks? A kiss? Maybe, a thing or two from what you always do to that lollipop I gave you last time. Your call, flower. Just don't bite it okay? You don't want jakey to bleed to death, don't you?"

You laughed lowly, you certainly don't want to hurt jake. That's the last thing you want to do, the first thing being the want to pleasure him like the way he does to you.

You gave it a few pump. Jake was thick, with an average length. The tip is pink, balls are in same color, and gosh, he has the most beautiful and clean looking cock. Not that you seen others, jake wouldn't let you do that, of course. But then again, you decided that you don't want to do that. Not when you knew that Jake's is enough. It was standing proud in front of you, waiting just like it's owner who's watching you intently.

Your tongue then make in contact with his tip, giving it a few lick, earning confidence before you finally take the first few parts inside your mouth. "ah shit, flower... fuck! that mouth..." And from the looks of it, you're doing a good job. Your tongue swirled with his length as you tried to get accustomed on bobbing your head.

"Hmm... just like that. Tighten your throat for me flower. Yes— yes! fuck. You suck like a fucking whore."

You finally got your own pace, sucking him just the way he like as his tip clashed on your throat learning to take advantage of it as you tighten the cavern, earning more praises from jake. His words together with his hand on top of your head pushing you gently but firmly on his dick feels like he's testing your limits and it's working, it even sends waves of pleasure down your pussy. You can feel it embarrassingly clenching to nothing which didn't go unnoticed to the man.

"Gonna cum, flower... gonna fill up that filthy mouth with my cum. Then I'll kiss you, letting myself taste my own cum from your lips before spitting it again on your mouth so you can swallow it. You like that hm?" He is so dirty but you like it just from the way you moaned while his cock is practically seeking pleasure on your mouth. His dick twitch on your throat the same time jake's hand pushed your head further down causing you to gagged from his tip. Thought he'll get angry but guess that just added to his pleasure.

You let him keep you in that positon for a few seconds, only pulling out when you felt his hands finally stopped pushing you down. Jake cums a lot, majority of it swim straight away down your throat knowing your last circumstance while some of it still manage to fill your mouth with some escaping down your neck and into his lap.

"Sorry, flower. Keep myself waiting for you for two weeks now" Jake whispered taking your hand before pulling you closer to him as you tried to swallow his cum, which you gagged embarrassingly but still manage to do so. The man laughed settling the two of you in a more comfy position, with his back now on the headboard and you straddling his lap.

"Don't have to force yourself to swallow it..." He said pinching your chin in affection before tracing the line of cum on your neck up to the side of your mouth before enveloping you in a messy kiss that you gladly respond with. Jake groaned when he tasted himself on your mouth, his hands started travelling on your body not leaving a spot untouched. He then break the kiss before swiftly pulling your top off of you, attacking your chest as his next target.

You whined in response, arching your back to make your nipples closer to his attention. "Ja-jakey...?" His cock made its presence known when it hardened again, poking on your pussy when you're directly sitting on it. "Feel that flower? Told you it's all because of you" Jake said in a matter of fact tone, licking your neck before sucking a spot on it intended to leave something. "Bet it can slide right inside just from how wet you are, flower." And it's true, the only thing stopping his dick from sliding inside is the presence of your cotton shorts.

"But we can't do that, knowing that your a virgin. You can get hurt if we do that..." Jake's words started to get drowned when you started grinding your hips, creating the friction in between, desperately holding... chasing something.

"No need to do that, up" You immediately stand up on the bed, gripping his shoulder for support as he started pulling the last piece of clothing you had with ease then making you straddle him once more.

You gasped when you did so. It was much more different when feeling him skin to skin, feeling the warmth, coating his dick with your wetness. "You're making me crazy, flower." His hand came on your waist guiding your hips to keep grinding on his cock. Your juices and his precum mixing heavenly tainting your folds. Jake then felt you kneeled, taking his cock on your hand before lining it on your hole.

He knew it wouldn't work but he let you, he can tend to the problem later. For now, let him feel you despite your stubbornness. You slowly sink on him, but it won't work. Is it because his thick? Maybe you're just that scared? Or, because of the itching pain that keeps scratching on your core as you forced yourself down his tip. But, you still want more.

"Jakey, I can't... I don't think this will work"

"Then let me? Would you let me do the work, flower?"

"Yes" With that, Jake pushed you down. Laying you on the bed before hovering on top of you. He took his cock, slapping it on top of your tummy, measuring how far it can go if he'll make you take him full. And it goes down your navel, fuck. That's so hot. You even felt it twitch again, his precum leaving a stain on your belly button. Even gigling as you touch his tip to get some precum and licking it with your tongue, which jake groaned.

He then let the tip scratched up and down on your folds, making sure he'll hit your clit everytime that makes you flinch in pleasure. When he had enough, jake then push your legs revealing your pussy to him in more ways one can imagine.

"Keep this open, okay?" He reminded as he tapped on your legs, "This will hurt for awhile but I know that you can take it." He kissed you again now in comfort, "You ready?"

You nodded your head, as you felt his tip slowly sliding in. When the whole tip was in, jake stopped looking at you reminding you to take a deep breath. And you did, you felt yourself relaxed ready to take another inch but the next thing you knew, jake immediately shoved his cock inside in one swift move.

"Fuck!" He cursed at the same time you screamed. "Ahh! It hurts, jake... shit, Why did you do that?" Tears now staining your eyes, the pain on your core still evident. "I'm sorry, flower. It would still hurt otherwise, why not have it in one go."

"Fuck..." You whispered, trying your best not to move or even breath.

Jake kissed your lips, then giving kisses all over your face "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." He's apologizing but you both knew he never really meant it. Not when,

"Hmm, you don't have any idea how long I waited for this, y/n..." The pain started to subside from the way jake's thumb circled your clit that the matched with his small thursts. The diversion of your attention from the pain to the pleasure that jake is doing is deemed effective. It didn't took long before your voice started to build up to a whimper. You even grinding your body on your own now, "Move, jakey..."

He gladly do so. Jake started pulling out before thrusting right back in. He looked on the way his cock disappear from your pussy, clearly seeing the lines of blood on the edge of his gun and it turns him on even further.

"You're making me crazy, i swear. So, fucking crazy!" Jake's thrusts picked up its pace and so does your moan. The night was calm and silent but there's another story going on inside your room. The four corners of walls echoes the harsh slapping of skins, curses, groans, and moans.

"Jakey... ugh, jake! Yeeah..." Lewd noise continues to dominate and no one will care. No one will disturb the two of you. You can scream and cursed all you want and you'll never worry about a thing.

"Does it feel good, huh? Yeah, flower? Does my cock makes you feel good? Now, I can fuck you like a slut you truly are." The pleasure is intense. He keeps hitting your sweet spots without fail. His weight on top of you, his voice, his smell, his looks all mixed together in every thrust he make to push this pure bliss on you. You wanted him You needed him.

You can't even think straight now, the only thing your brain can think of is his cock rutting inside you and how you want it to keep going.

"Flower's now dumb with my cock? Bet you can't even function now without me fucking your pussy everyday. You like that? You like it if I'll fill you up with my cum? Have you walk outside with my cum running down your legs?" Jake laughed when you moaned in response, the unfocused look on your eyes as well as the way you clutching the sheets and your pillow is enough answer for him.

"Or, should I just make you pregnant? Right, make you carry my babies all night long. I'll fuck you every chance I get. I'll never leave you alone, not even for a second... ugh— will fuck you in the kitchen, fuck you while you wash the dishes or just doing the laundry. I'll even fuck you while we dine, will eat you out instead the dinner you cook before fucking you and cumming inside you again. And when you're pregnant, I'll still keep fucking you. I'll wait as your breast—" He harsly cupped your right boob before squeezing it, "becomes full with milk then I'll gladly drink it as I fuck you again and again until the baby is born. Our parents wouldn't even know that I'm the one who'll impregnated you, flower."

"Jakey... please,"

"You really think I'll let you go after this? I'll make sure you'll keep on coming back. Your my own personal slut, and sluts keep their pussy open for use whenever I like."

"Yes, yes. I'm yours, j-just yours jakey!" Jake pushed your legs further down to open, his calloused hands firmly pinning it on place as he desperately chase your high as well as his. "Fuck, flower... your tight—" It'll leave a bruise, and both of you knew it but doesn't care. Jake loves to leave his mark on you in anyway possible, and this is just one way after a few more ways he can think of, not that you mind.

"Uh, sh— I think I'm..."

Jake's thrust didn't stop even after you cummed, he keeps on rutting his cock inside even making you work for your third climax of the night as he chase that fine inkling of orgasm that keeps hiding away from him. Pleasure was on but he still finding something... more. And, it didn't took long before he finally got it. Groaning with his eyes closed as his thrust goes frantic before feeling his cum mixing with yours in painting your walls. He moaned in contentment as he reached his peak, laughing breathlessly after the stunt.

Jake gives you a kiss, more passionate and sweet. The harsh and desperate movement nowhere to be found as he keep his cock inside you with small thrust, as if he's keeping his cum from escaping your womb.

"You really want me pregnant?" You whispered after chuckling. Can't deny that you don't want anything other than his dick inside you. "I believe, I clearly expressed my opinion about that earlier flower"

You felt him pulled out, the same time you felt a hot line dripping down your hole. Jake on the other hand traced the line of cum before pushing it back on your whole that made you laughed.

"Jakey! You know that we can't..." The man pulled the covers on both of your body. Jake made himself comfy beside you his fingers tracing circles on your upperbody. "Why not? We're not the same blood and our parents can stay whenever they are if you want. Then, no one will stop us."

"You can do that?" You asked, hands busy playing with his hair. Jake simply answered yes. You don't know the things he can do much more the things his money can do. He can do that if you wanted him to. Maybe, you two will just get a call one day about an allegedly 'accident' that your parents are involved into.

Jake can do things. Hell this is much more easier compared to the things he did just to make you completely his. And, the parents will just be a small 'disturbance' for him. For now, he'll just let them have their fun on another country away from you or him. They wouldn't get hurt with the things they wouldn't know, do they?

comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ❣️

#masterlist!#sim jaeyun #im back with another stepbrother series #cant get enough with jake most esp after watching his vlog #so here you go #one dirty and shamless stepbrother jake #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung #park sunghoon #jake x reader #park jongseong

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hannieehaee · 3 months

Note

Svt reaction to loud high pitched porno moans from them fucking you so good

18+ / mdi

reaction to your pornographic moans

content: smut, established relationship implied, penetrative sex mentioned, etc.

wc: 1059

a/n: i received two different asks with very similar requests but i still wanted to make them separate so if u guys see me posting a rlly similar reaction just know its that hehe

masterlist

seungcheol -

as much as he wanted to pretend like you didn't have such a knee-buckling effect on him, he would have to stop for a second to gather himself as you let out the first of many pornographic moans at the way he was fucking into you. he'd wanna be cocky about it, but would be interrupted by yet another moan that had him losing his breath. would be fighting against himself the whole time to not cum immediately.

jeonghan -

yet another member who would wanna be cocky but would be unable to. your moans would be like a siren's song to him, making him stop his actions and groan out in complaint, telling you you were cheating. you were clearly trying to get him to cum embarrassingly fast by moaning so prettily! despite that, he'd still be unable to control his body's reaction to your sounds, making him speed up as his own voice became high pitched and he came earlier than usual.

joshua -

he'd be extremely turned on, but would keep that to himself as he kept fucking into you. at some point he'd begin mocking your moans, knowing there was just no way for you to keep quiet while he was making you feel this good. would become obsessed with your sounds, doing everything in his power to get you to keep moaning like that for him.

jun -

he'd have to beg you to please stop or he would blow his load way too early to give you the amount of pleasure you deserved. his own moans would get so whiny and high pitched at just the way you sounded, making the two of you create way too much noise to not be overheard by bystanders. jun wouldn't have the ability to care, though, simply doing everything in his power to keep you moaning for him (despite his prior pleas for you to stop).

soonyoung -

all thoughts would leave his head as soon as you let out the first of many wails of his name. would beg you to please keep making those sounds. he would be super communicative (to a fault) of how much your sounds were turning him on, telling you that he was gonna blow his load at just the sound of your voice, but promising to go round after round after round if you promised to keep mewling like that for him.

wonwoo -

a bit surprised but not completely. you being loud was not news for him, however, the way in which you were quite literally mewling his name (along with nonsensical babbles) would have him speeding up as he fucked into you, coaxing more and more sounds out of you. he would groan at the way you felt around him while also breathing out words of encouragement, letting you know how thoroughly he was enjoying your sounds of pleasure.

jihoon -

for him? you were moaning so prettily for him? he'd need to take a breather, halting his hips against you as he tried to calm himself down. his ears (and everything else of his) would be crimson red while his head would be full of air, unable to even breathe properly. you'd have to beg him to please keep fucking you again, to which he would respond with his own plea to please not cry for him like that, knowing there was no way for him to last if you mewled his name like that again. however, this plea would thankfully fall on deaf ears as he continued to relish in your wails.

seokmin -

the moment he heard you moan like that, some animalistic side of him would take over, making him cant his hips into you like an animal. he would bury his face either in your back or neck (depending on your current position), groaning against you to beg you to please keep making those pretty sounds for him and praising you on how amazing you were making him feel. would wonder to himself if you were some type of siren, not understanding how you were able to get him like this so easily.

mingyu -

would stop and groan so fucking loudly at how enticing you sounded, telling you that there was no way for him to keep going when you were playing so unfairly. he'd need a minute to calm himself down, eventually beginning to fuck you again and begging you to please make those sounds for him again, going faster and harder every time you let out yet another pitchy moan of his name.

minghao -

he'd be so mesmerized by you, feeling an immense sense of pride at knowing he was the only person who could pull such sounds out of you. would pull at all stops to get you to be even louder for him, whispering in your ear to encourage you to be even louder for him, praising your pretty voice as he enticed you into whining his name over and over again.

seungkwan -

super flustered. you were being so loud, but you sounded so fucking good. his brain would be battling between being flustered and being horny, with the horniness easily overpowering. he'd know that he would cum embarrassingly fast due to the effect your pornographic moans had on him, but he wouldn't dare stop fucking into you out of fear that he'd stop doing whatever he was doing to get you to sound so pretty for him.

vernon -

it would take him a moment to process what was going on. where you making those sounds because of him? was it that good? fuck yeah. he would just quietly relish in the sounds you were making, getting more and more turned on by how good you sounded, causing him to fuck into you harder as he tried to muffle his own groans to hear you as much as possible.

chan -

just short-circuiting. he couldnt believe that he canting of his hips against you could get you to make such sounds. he'd gasp and groan and moan at your shameless wails, willing himself to last so that he could savor your sounds until bringing you to orgasm. would press his face into your neck as he fucked into you maniacally, begging you to please keep making those sounds for him, that he would do anything you wanted, just please keep crying for him like that.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen reaction #svt reactions #svt oneshot #svt imagines

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jocktrolls · 1 year

Text

Looks like I’m going to have to start collating accounts to build an actual timeline of everything to prove since there’s already claims that this entire thing is just completely made up and manufactured when they’ve called in the SBI and we’re currently looking to be out of power for a week because they’re simultaneously treating all stations as crime scenes.

#ooc stuff #if you have no interest in this blacklist:#Moore Co Blackout 2022 #Ftr: i heard the sirens as all the fire trucks and police cruisers pulled out of their stations and fanned out #It's a small town. You hear everything #Energy workers have requested cop escorts.#the more i hear about the order stations went out the more horrified i am

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murdrdocs · 11 months

Note

just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨

end of line | h. brown

description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is

includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie

a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3

word count: 1.7k+

things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.

you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.

nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.

you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.

the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.

there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.

you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.

which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.

you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."

"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"

a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.

"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.

it always felt good to kiss hobie.

you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.

but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.

there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.

and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.

you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.

but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.

you need to be someone's.

the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.

so, you look elsewhere.

you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.

you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.

not until hobie got off stage.

it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.

he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.

"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"

his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.

“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.

“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.

the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.

“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.

hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.

instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.

hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.

“what’d you mean?”

you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.

“you just cockblocked me!”

a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”

“yes! of course i was!”

“but why? you are i are together.”

“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”

“yes we are.”

“no, we aren’t.”

“why do you think that?”

you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”

another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.

“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”

your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.

"thought you didn't like relationships?"

"labels. i don't like labels."

there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.

the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.

he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.

"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.

you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.

"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.

"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.

"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.

"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."

"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."

"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."

a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.

in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.

"he doesn't like consistency."

"don't like consistency, mate."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #hobie brown fluff #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk #celeste writs mcu #hobiesworld!#hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse

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dead-girl-tells-stories · 4 months

Text

Everyone from babies to young adults suddenly disappears from Amity Park, and the ghost portal self-destructs as well. The GIW and the Fentons obviously come to the conclusion that it’s ghosts but realize that this issue is way bigger than they can handle, so they call in the big guns, The Justice League.

Of course, they don’t tell the Justice League everything when they come. No matter how much they thought themselves to be heroes, they were simply glorified police in spandex. And with how they operate, they are all too small-minded and won’t be able to see the bigger picture. They also knew fully well that a lot of their methods weren’t even remotely close to being morally or ethically right, and if the JL found out, they would be screwed. So they simply told them enough to get them on their side.

Besides, how could they not help with how many people were missing? This was going to be easy.

_______

The Justice League didn’t trust the GIW. Something about them was just off. But so many missing people were on the line, so many kids!

Ghost?

Should they call in the JLD?

_______

Jason knew something was off with Crime Ally.

Nothing was wrong per se. In fact, everything was going great. Crime was at its lowest in like… forever. The general atmosphere was more calm, if not a bit chilly. He himself was calmer. And there were fewer kids on the streets. Which would have been a good thing if this wasn’t fuckin’ CRIME ALLY!

Jason’s been stressing himself out, trying to find out what was going on. He’s been searching up and down, talking to people left and right. No one was reporting anything amiss. Some even told him that they still saw the kids walking around, though not as often as before. And they also looked like they were being well taken care of.

He even saw and talked to some of the kids himself and it was the truth.

But when he asked where they went, they only laughed and ran away from him. Shouting that he would know soon before they disappeared around the corner. At this point, he was sufficiently freaked out and was so close to getting Batman to contact the JLD, but something told him otherwise.

A few days later Jason was in bed. He had ended patrol early that night and intended to get a full eight hours if he could.

But as fate would have it, he would not. Because just before he could hit the hay he heard it. Well, felt it would be more accurate but how could you feel a siren’s song? Pulling you? Drawing you in. Telling you that it would give you your deepest desire.

He didn’t even bother to suit back up into Red Hood. He just followed it. Followed and followed, Until he got to a dead-end alleyway. But there was no ‘end’. All there was, was darkness.

He began to get skeptical and took a few steps back. But the feeling was still there. Pulling, telling that all of his answers were in that darkness. Everything he wanted, needed, awaited beyond it.

He did the stupid thing and went into the darkness.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the feeling of walking through thick goop. But the feeling didn’t last long, and he eventually stepped out.

Again, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

Kids running around without a care in the world, unrestricted. Teenagers just hanging out and being kids too. Whatever adults he saw all looked pretty young, but they were all happy.

He looked around and noticed that it looked like a weird mix between a suburb and a night market, but it worked quite well. The stalls were all unmanned, and it seemed whoever could just take whatever they wanted. Dim but pretty lights connected all the stalls to as far as his eyes could see. And the sky.

In Gotham, there’s so much smog and bad weather you’d be lucky to even see a piece of blue during the day so no wonder people often forget about the night. But this, the night sky wherever he was, was beautiful, beyond what words and even thoughts could convey.

“Hello, Mr. Red Hood.”

Jason jumped. Was he so out of it that he didn’t even notice someone coming up behind-

Forget what he just said about the sky. The woman right here that was now standing before him? She- She-

“Are you single?”

There was silence. Then she giggled. Guess Jason didn’t need his helmet huh? His face was enough.

He also wanted to die again but hey, at least she laughed!

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nataliasquote · 1 month

Text

Midas Touch | n romanoff

Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)

Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader

wc: 7.1k 😬

Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..

-⧗-

Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.

And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.

Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.

Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.

Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.

He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.

These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.

Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.

“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.

“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.

“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.

With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.

Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.

She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.

“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.

“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.

Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.

The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.

“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”

Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”

“Do you read the paper?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”

“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.

“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.

Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”

“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”

“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”

Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.

“Me?”

“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.��

Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.

Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.

She just wanted to feel good for herself.

But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.

Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.

Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.

“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”

This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.

“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.

“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.

“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.

“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”

‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.

With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.

“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”

Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”

Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.

“I thought-“

“That’s cute.”

Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”

“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”

“No, I wasn’t-“

Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.

“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”

“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.

With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.

The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.

The lingerie store.

It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.

She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.

Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.

As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.

She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.

Mrs Barnes:

James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)

The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.

Just leaving now. I’ll be there.

When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.

Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.

Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.

“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.

“Mostly just window shopping.”

At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”

“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“

“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”

“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“

“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”

Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.

“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”

Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.

“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”

“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”

“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”

The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.

“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.

Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.

“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”

“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”

“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.

“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.

“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”

She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.

“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.

She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.

Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.

“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”

“Thank you, really.”

Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?

Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.

Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.

However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.

Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.

Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.

After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.

“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.

“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.

“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”

“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.

“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.

She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.

James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.

“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”

“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”

“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”

“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”

She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?

~~~

Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.

And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.

“What did you talk to him about?”

Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”

“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”

Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”

James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”

“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”

She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”

That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“

“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”

James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.

An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.

A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.

She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.

Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.

The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.

The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.

Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.

But she wasn’t alone.

A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.

It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.

“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.

But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability

“What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.

“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”

“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“

Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction

“Did he…?”

The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.

“What happened?”

Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.

A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.

With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.

After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”

Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.

Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.

“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.

Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“

“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.

But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”

“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“

“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.

The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.

Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.

But it was too soon.

Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.

“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.

“I’ve got you.”

Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.

“Natasha…”

The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.

“Maybe.”

The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.

She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.

“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

What were they doing?

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.

But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #wlw #angst #AU #forbidden love #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #rich wife aesthetic #natasha romanoff hot #black widow

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 months

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Love your writing! Can I request a hero that likes being controlled by the villain because they get relief from their anxiety/stressful life but they are denying it because they don’t want to admit to being overwhelmed?

"Oh god, you're back."

The villain smirked at that particular greeting and inclined their head in acknowledgement. "Long time no see, hero mine."

Anticipation had the hero's heart drumming double time. They shifted their weight, hold tightening on the battered strap of their rucksack. The street was empty, all curtains conspicuously drawn, but there was nothing actually blocking any exits. They could run. They weren't far from home. They might even make it.

"It's okay," the villain said, tucking their hands into their pockets. "You can try, I won't be offended. I know you prefer pretending that you don't like this. That you don't crave this."

"I don't."

"No?" The villain's tone was soft, but their eyes gleamed in the glow of the lampposts. Their gaze was somewhere between gently mocking and not so gently fond. "You're lucky you lie so pretty. It means I'll let you off with a warning. Just the one, because I've heard you've had a rough week."

The hero swallowed.

The week had been exhausting. Atlas would have buckled beneath the weight of the last week too. Anyone would. Wouldn't they? Maybe that was why, beneath the panic of seeing the villain again, there was a much more terrifying chasm of relief. Dizzy, desperate relief. The kind of longing that left a person brained by it. Dumb.

"You heard about that?" the hero asked, in a small voice, even if it was entirely not the point.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

The hero shuddered, to hear the villain say it so bluntly. Maybe if they hadn't, the hero could pretend - what? That somewhere along the way monstrosity and miracle had blurred together like wet watercolours?

"You could walk away," the hero said.

"I could," the villain agreed, placidly. They didn't move though.

"Would you if I asked you to?"

The villain's head tilted, considering the hero at that.

"Mm, I don't think so," they decided eventually. "Then you'd feel like you had to ask. It goes better when you don't have any choice in this matter, doesn't it?"

"You can't just - you can't say that."

"No?" the villain's lip curled up again. They closed the gap between them, casually confident. "You asked."

"Well, yes - but." The hero didn't have a good way to finish the sentence. Mainly because they should have been horrified. They were horrified! It was only..."You're not supposed to say it." The crack in their voice felt far too much like confession. "It's not right."

"Yeah. I'd say you should stop feeling so guilty about liking it so much, but honestly it's entirely too delicious watching you squirm."

The hero made a choked, incoherent sound in their throat. They took a step back, not remotely surprised when the villain's hand snaked eel-fast around their back.

"Ah, ah," the villain said. "You already had your chance to run. Go easy."

The hero felt the very moment that something switched in the villain's voice, their powers humming a siren song in the hero's bones. They felt their body turn to putty as they blinked at the villain, wide-eyed. Their hands settled comfortably on the villain's chest, not pushing back.

It wasn't...it wasn't exactly that their brain switched off, only that everything in them suddenly refused to fully recognise the danger. And there was danger, they knew that, but...

But for the first time since they'd last seen the villain, the knot in their chest loosened. They didn't feel one small straw or loud noise or well-meaning question away from bursting pitifully into tears.

"Good," the villain murmured. "Just like that. There you are. Deep breaths."

Up close, the villain took a moment to study them properly. The hero let them look. Minutes ago, they might have tried to hide, ashamed by the blatant dark circles under their eyes, by everything that the villain would see, but in that second...

The villain's lips thinned a fraction. "I've been away on business for too long, haven't I? Sorry about that."

"How was business?"

The villain didn't bother answering that question, more concerned with grazing their thumb along the swell of the hero's lip where they'd bitten it raw. Their eyes darkened further.

"You look annoyed," the hero said.

"You could have called me, you know."

"Why would I do that?"

"Why would you-" For a second, it seemed like the villain might say something. Then, they simply sighed, and shook their head, muttering something under their breath. They pivoted, so they were at the hero's side instead, snagging the hero's heavy bag onto their own shoulders.

"Walk." The command hummed through the villain's voice again. "I think we've both had enough of your idiot brain for today. You're done for the week."

Every time the villain let them go, it was harder to force themselves to leave.

#hero x villain #villains and heroes #heroes and villains #writing #story #villains #heroes #writeblr #creative writing #writing snippet #fiction

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rreids · 8 days

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Ok you have to do an extension of that spencer x hotch!reader where reader gets fatally injured on the job 😩 i NEED to see hotch and spencer losing their shit

GROUNDED • S. REID X READER

fem reader (hotch's daughter); reader gets shot and severely injured; established relationship; angst; hurt/comfort; banter; talks of death; reader almost dies; ~1.4k words

At first, it didn’t feel like anything. Adrenaline numbed the nicks and scratches and bruises you got while in the field chasing unsubs and climbing through and over beaten down structures. For a moment, it worked here too.

And then, it was excruciating. A hot pain flared through your side, and tore a choked gasp from you. Your hand flew to your side, covering the wound — it’d gotten right between the buckles of your Kevlar.

“Morgan, go!” You snap when he hesitates at your cry. And then you grab your radio with your free hand as your knees crumple, radioing urgent help for an officer down and shots fired, also requesting back up in the direction you saw Derek run.

The world spun. The multicolor haze of lights from street signs swam across your vision, and you could feel your blood soaking your hand. It wasn’t slowing down, and you hiss a labored breath. The pain worsened on that side, and it was then you realized you couldn’t breathe right. You gasp, wheezing, and are met with pains and shallow gasps.

Your vision dims. You try to call for help but everything is too heavy, too much, and not enough. It’s all you can do to keep the pressure on it, but your hand falls, bloodied and limp, to your side. You can’t find the strength to move your fingers again.

You can hear sirens.

And then everything was gone.

You wake to the incessant beeping of machines. You suck in a breath and immediately regret it, pain searing through your left side. The intensity sends you reeling, pouring over your nerves in a slow trickle until everything is in agony.

More sounds — voices, angry and worried, and then a clamor of metal and hands on you. You open your eyes then, and it makes you lightheaded.

“Don’t move,” a gentle voice instructs. “You’re safe. But we need you to be very careful while you heal.”

You take another shallow breath, and this one doesn’t hurt. You can crane your head just slightly to the side, and you spot Spencer first, talking animatedly — angrily? — to a doctor in the hallway.

And then, your father. He’s at the foot of your bed.

“Hi, Dad,” you croak, voice dry and scratchy.

He swallows and steps to your side, tilts a cup of water to your lips in small amounts. “Hi, sweetheart,” he brushes limp and stringy hair from your forehead and then presses a cool paper towel, swiping away sweat — blood and dirt, too, you’re sure.

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“Pneumothorax—” and there’s your boyfriend, brow furrowed and voice tight with more anger than you’ve heard in a while, and you really hope it isn’t towards you, cowering back into your pillows. “The shot punctured your lung. They have a tube inserted to help decrease air pressure and help you heal. It will take several days.” Spencer softens his voice, and you realize how cold you are when his warm fingers wrap around and hold your hand tenderly. “And neither me or Hotch are letting you back in the field for a while.”

You whine. “I’m fine,”

A cough cuts off your complaint and renders it inaccurate immediately as you gasp hoarsely and wince at the feeling.

“You will be on bedrest,” Spencer grumbles. “If I need to, I will tie you down and spoon feed you,”

Your dad laughs, and you glare at him. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

“You will be,” he says, stepping back to let Spencer sit on the small space by your hips. “Because we will not let you be anything but. I’m going to go get you food and update the team.”

Once he’s gone, you look to Spencer. His face is lined with tension and worry, and he’s been crying. There are still stains on his cheeks, and his eyes are still glassy and red. Every part of his expression is tight with worry and emotion.

“How bad is it?” You ask him finally, and he softens his features with a sigh and a few moments. “Tell me. Honestly. You know I hate not knowing, Spence.”

He swallows. “You… you could’ve—” he chokes on the words, voice cracking. He can barely get them out. “You almost died, honey.” Spencer blinks back his tears with force. “If you hadn’t radioed when you did, you would’ve.”

You can only stare at him.

“I almost… I almost lost you. I could never forgive myself if it happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Spence.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I knew the unsub would be aggressive when facing law enforcement, and I sent you with Morgan anyways. And Hotch allowed it. And—” he turns his head away sharply, but you still see the tear roll down his cheek. “I should’ve been there. To help you. You know I trust you, but I can’t bear the idea that you would die just for us to catch an unsub.”

“It’s me, or it’s some other girl, who died with no reason and no one to keep her safe,” you bite back your own tears. “We knew he would kill again. Quickly. And we both know this job is dangerous. I would be happy knowing I saved someone’s life. Someone who didn’t choose to face danger head on.”

Spencer deflates. His voice is barely a whisper. “And would you be happy knowing I couldn’t even say goodbye?” His breath hitches in a way that sounds almost as painful as your collapsed lung. “The last thing I would’ve said to you would be ‘we’ll talk about it later.’ We had been arguing, sweet girl.”

You try to stroke his cheek, but your shoulder aches too much.

“I would not be able to live with myself.”

His shoulders slump and he curls in on himself, so small. He leans down and kisses your cheek.

“I know you are so brave. And you care so, so, so much. But you… you can’t do that. Let him go. I am not ready to let you.”

You do start crying then, and his thumb wipes them away. He kisses the ones that end by your lips, and leans his forehead into yours. After a while, you can’t tell whose tears are whose.

“Spencer,” you sigh. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” he soothes. “I shouldn’t be upset, I’m sorry. I’m just happy you’re still as stubborn as always.”

You laugh. It hurts.

Your dad comes back with a tray of your favorite foods (even if they are the dull and unappealing hospital versions). “Do you think you can eat?”

“As in my appetite? Or the effort?”

He tilts his head. “Both.”

“Maybe.”

He sets it up on the table for you, and Spencer pulls back to make space as they feed you mashed potatoes. It’s weird, to have both of them so focused on you.

“How mad are you, Dad?” You ask after a while, pushing back the plate. You feel sick from the pain, and each bite is a test of your stomach.

“I’m not… mad.”

“But you’re not exactly thrilled with me.”

“I would never be with any of the team who got shot.”

“I’m asking about how I acted. I sent off Morgan. I acted impulsively. I actively put myself at risk. How mad are you?”

He sighs. “We’ve all done it. I know why you did. And we will discuss it, fully, later. But right now, we are all happy that you are on the mend.”

You smile. It’s weak, but you’re getting tired. “So I’m not grounded?”

“Oh, you absolutely are,” he chuckles. “No phone. And bedtime is nine.”

You laugh. It hurts. You try not to wince too hard, but they both catch it.

“Lay back down, love,” Spencer helps you get comfortable. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Do you promise?” You ask. The tremble in your voice is, honestly, embarrassing, but you need them.

Spencer nods. Your dad kisses your forehead as he tucks you in, like he did when you were a kid until you complained you were too old for it at your big age of fourteen. Your heart aches with fondness and a bittersweet nostalgia. You missed it desperately. “Promise,”

i know you said fatally but idk if i am to an Authorial Point where i can just kill the reader. just not there. title isn't just focused on hotch "grounding" her but also in that they are grounding her and making her feel safe and loved

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #aaron hotchner angst #requested

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ladysharmaa · 2 months

Text

Break in

Jay Halstead x reader

summary: when Jay's girlfriend is home alone while he's at Molly's, someone tries to break into their house

Y/n was looking disinterestedly through the fridge, closing it with a sigh when she couldn't find anything to eat that she felt like. It was a slow night, her workday had been quiet at the hospital, with only a few patients showing up.

Her boyfriend, Jay, had invited her to join him and the rest of the police department at Molly's. However, she refused, wanting him to spend quality time with his friends, feeling that she had already stolen him from them long enough after he took a few days to take care of her after she fell ill.

Detective Chuckles: Is everything okay out there? The guys miss you! Wish you could be here with me :(

The ringing of her cell phone snapped her out of her thoughts, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she read Jay's message. But she couldn't deny the butterflies that invaded her stomach knowing he was thinking about her. Their relationship was relatively recent, but they had never felt stronger love.

Jay once revealed to her that he realized she was the most important person to him when he was called on an undercover mission. They had only been dating for about 2 months. When he returned, after all the time they hadn't been together, he was shocked to see her waiting for him. He thought she had abandoned him, realizing that she couldn't live with his job, but he was wrong. He ran to her, picking her up and spinning her around a little, her laughter echoing through the room.

After answering his text, Y/n lay down on the couch, watching a movie while waiting for her boyfriend to come home. She didn't even notice when, halfway through the movie, her eyes started to get heavy, and she gave in to sleep.

She woke up again when she heard the lock on the front door click, almost as if someone was trying to get in. Too lazy to get up, thinking it was Jay trying to get in, Y/n tried to call him to remind him he had a key, in case he was already a little tipsy.

At the end of the second ring, the cop answered, but something made Y/n freeze in place, glancing at the door in alarm. She could hear the noise coming from the other people at the bar, meaning he wasn't the one at the door.

"Baby, you there? Is everything okay?" Jay's voice brought her back to reality.

"Jay, aren't you the one trying to get in by any chance?" her voice shook, still standing in the same spot on the edge of the sofa, now raised.

"What? Guys, shut up, I can't hear Y/n. Baby, I told you I'm at the bar with the rest of the group." his voice immediately became serious. "Why? What's happening?"

"Jay, I think someone is trying to get in." Y/n muttered, holding the phone tighter to stop it from falling due to the shaking of her hands. Her wide, frightened eyes were fixed on the door.

As soon as those words left her mouth, Y/n heard a noise on the other side — Jay was shouting something to Severide. Then, there was silence until the sound of Jay's jeep engine was heard.

"Y/n, I need you to listen to me very carefully. You go to our room and lock the door. Then you go to the bathroom and stay in the bathtub until I come and get you. No one else, just me. Do you think you can do that?"

From Jay's voice, Y/n noticed that he went into police mode, speaking calmly but with authority. In fact, this was just so he wouldn't lose control and be able to help his girlfriend, despite the fear that was spreading throughout his body.

"I need verbal responses, baby. Do you understand?"

"I understand." her voice shook.

"Good girl. Everything's going to be okay." Jay tried to comfort her, breaking all the traffic rules and having the sirens on to get home faster.

His heart was tightening in his chest, almost stopping him from breathing. He blamed himself, he knew he should have stayed at home with Y/n, and now she was in danger, and he couldn't protect her.

Behind him, Severide followed him in his vehicle on a 911 call.

"I'm scared, Jay." Y/n's scared voice caught the police officer's attention.

"I know, baby, I know. But I need you to be brave until I arrive. I won't let anything happen to you. I just need you to hold on and then we'll finally go to bed and cuddle. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah." She felt tears coming to her eyes but tried not to let them fall. Just like Jay said, she had to be brave until he came to save her.

Y/n then started to go to her room until she stopped halfway up the stairs when the front door handle stopped turning. For a moment, she thought she was exaggerating and it was just someone who made a mistake in the house. But the panic returned when the automatic rear light came on, indicating that someone had passed by.

Jay only heard the gasp she let out. "What? What's happening?! You need to talk to me, Y/N."

"I think they're trying to get in through the back. I don't know if I locked that door!" She stopped her speech suddenly. "Oh god, I just remembered I left Missy sleeping in the kitchen."

"Y/n, do not go in there just because of the fucking cat!"

Jay didn't even like the little furball who seemed to hate him from the moment Y/n started dating him. However, he knew that his girlfriend would never forgive herself if something happened to the cat.

"Don't scream at me! I would be such a bad owner if I didn't come back to get my cat."

"I don't care about the damn cat when you're in danger!" Jay argued, but he knew Y/n was already heading downstairs to get Missy.

When Y/n arrived, she quickly found the animal on the dining table, looking super calm, an emotion quite contrary to what Y/n was feeling. Picking her up and quickly kissing her head, the girl thought about what her next step in the plan would be: go back up the stairs or find another place to hide.

However, the intruders finally opened the door, and the choice became obvious. Y/n quickly ducked and hid behind the kitchen counter so she wouldn't be seen. On all fours and with Missy under her arm, she grabbed a knife and tried, as silently as possible, to head towards the pantry.

"Y/n, don't go silent on me. Tell me what's going on. I'm three minutes away."

"They're here, Jay. I'm in the pantry with a knife." Her breaths were ragged and shuddering. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying. "I was so stupid. Why didn't I do what you said? I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. God, don't apologize, sweetheart." Jay muttered with a heavy heart, running his hand over his face in despair, never having felt greater helplessness.

"They're getting closer." Y/n whispered, closing her eyes and holding her hand in front of her mouth so you wouldn't hear her heavy breathing. Jay slammed his hands on the steering wheel, clenching his jaw and thinking about what he could say to his girlfriend. "I love you, Jay. So much."

"Don't say that like it's goodbye, Y/n. I can't take it." He shook his head, using all his strength not to break down and burst into tears. "I'm almost there. One minute."

But Y/n was no longer able to respond. That's because a man, dressed all in black, entered the kitchen and looked around. She was peeking through the pantry bars, hoping he wouldn't be able to hear her and that Missy kept quiet.

She just had to hold on for one minute. Jay would be there on time. Either way, she held the knife in front of her, ready to attack. But deep down, she knew she had no chance against the muscular man. Very easily he would be able to throw her down and take the knife from her. But she wouldn't go down without a fight.

She knew that if it came to that, she would have to try to scratch him to get his DNA under her nails. That way Jay and his team would have a better chance of catching this man.

The man got closer and closer to the pantry. Y/n's hands were shaking uncontrollably. She just wanted to close her eyes and discover that it was all a nightmare. But as much as she wanted to, this was reality and the fact that she could die that day became more and more real and scary.

She didn't want to die without kissing Jay one last time. Without calling her parents to tell them she loved them. Without telling her best friend she should take the first step and text the boy she liked. She wanted to be a mother. She wanted to marry Jay and experience an eternity with him.

But just as she was ready to run out with the knife pointed at him as soon as he opened the pantry door, the man was pulled aside. She heard a moan of pain followed by things falling to the floor. Y/n wanted to go out and see what was happening, but Jay's words echoed in her head: stay hidden until he came to get her.

And then came immense relief. She heard sirens. Before she could process everything that was happening, the pantry door opened. Y/n, in a moment of panic, got up and tried to attack, the person easily dodging and putting his hands up in defense. It was only then that she realized that the person in front of her was Jay, and the intruder was on the ground, bruised, and being arrested by another police officer.

Missy, with all the commotion, quickly ran up the stairs, probably hiding in the guest room until things calmed down. In turn, Y/n dropped the knife on the floor, her face contorting and her lips trembling. She began to cry, finally releasing all the panic and fear she felt. She was pulled into Jay's arms and into his chest.

With his arms around her, feeling his warmth and the movements of his chest, Y/n finally felt safe. Jay kissed her head, saying words of comfort in hopes that she would calm down.

"Jay…" she cried, grabbing his shirt with a very tight grip.

"I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. You're safe. Shh…"

Jay then just pushed her away slightly, holding her face with both of his hands. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay. I was so scared."

"I know, baby. But you were so brave, I'm so proud of you. And I'll never let this happen again, I promise." he gave her a small kiss on the lips, pulling her back to him. She would never disappear from his sight again.

"Hey, sweetheart." Gabby's voice broke the moment between her and Jay. Y/n she turned her head to look at the woman she adored so much, only now realizing that Severide and Brett were watching the scene from afar. However, she continued to grab Jay's shirt, ensuring he stayed close to her. "Do you mind if we go to the ambulance just to make sure everything is okay?"

A moment of hesitation. Brett, realizing the problem, stepped forward and with a gentle smile said, "Jay can come too."

So, Y/n nodded in permission, following the paramedics to the ambulance. Outside, there were two more police cars and neighbors were in front of their houses in their pajamas to see what was going on. Always under Jay's arm, Y/n waited for Dawson and Brett to do their assessment, ensuring that everything was really okay.

After ensuring that there was no need to go to the hospital, despite a lot of resistance on Jay's part, Y/n won the argument with the condition that the next day, Will would stop by to check on her. But at that moment, Y/n just wanted to sleep with Jay next to her.

Once in bed, the man had one arm over her protectively, making sure there was no space between them. "I will protect you until the end of my life. I love you."

"I love you too." she looked at him with just love in her eyes. Finding a more comfortable position, Y/n closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

But Jay stayed up all night. The most important thing is that Y/n recovers after that traumatizing night. And if she had any nightmares, he would be there to protect her.

#chicago pd #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x y/n #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #will halstead x reader #jay halstead x female reader

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