Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)
Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au
Word Count: 5,468
A/N: This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!
Your mother told you that there
was a purpose for what everyone does. That there is always a reason for
someone’s actions; whether it was bad or good. If it was a good action, the
individual has learned the most rewarding path to handle situations; regardless
if it was easy or not. If it was a bad action, the person could reflect on it,
and with guidance, they will learn the right way toward dealing with obstacles.
And to this day, that is how you viewed life. If you handled something well,
you would be rewarded in the future, if you handled it poorly, you would need
to reflect on why you did such a thing, till you find the right path. With
these beliefs, you always wanted to find the ‘purpose’ of an individual’s
actions, and help them find the right way. So that’s how you ended up working
at a rehab centre; helping mentally to find the root cause of someone’s poor
actions, and leading them to a better future.
Timon princeps (called the Siirt lizard or Zagrosian lizard) is a species of Timon which belongs to the family of Lacertidae, the wall lizards. This species occurs in northeastern Syria, southeastern Turkey, southwestern Iran (the central Zagros Mountains), and possibly northern Iraq. The species may not be present in northeastern Iraq, resulting in two disjunct populations.
This species is found in rocky areas in open oak woodland and shrubland, and sometimes in open grassland. The female lays between five and ten eggs. It is not present in modified habitats or close to human habitations. This species is listed as Least Concern in view of its wide distribution, presumed large population, and because it is unlikely to be declining fast enough to qualify for listing in a more threatened category.
In Casey County Kentucky, the White Oak Union Church is open to anyone who wants to preach. My grandmother remembers going there as a child when her father or uncles had something they wanted to preach about so there’s no telling how long this church has been standing. My father tells about preaching there with his cousins as a kid and being warned not to go in there after dark because that’s when the devil took the pulpit.
Pairings: Red x Green/Blue Oak ( I call him Green. )
Red was always a quiet boy, sticking to himself to the point he was a loner. He hadn’t concerned himself really, as he was always off in his own world. It was only when he started school that the problems started. He always found it impossible to talk to people, even his own mother, so for a little kid, he was an easy target for the other children. Red prided himself on being a good kid, to make his mother proud, so he never fought back, never did a mean thing to those who ended up pushing and pushing him, trying to make him break. He thought eventually, they’d get bored and move along, but they never did. His mother would worry about all the scuffs and bruises, but he’d just sign to her that he’d just been playing rough on the playground.
It wasn’t until the new kid moved in next door that things changed, at first Red thought the boy was too loud but for some reason Green had decided to sit next to him at school. He ignored the other boy in favor of coloring, but Green continued to talk, unwavered by Red’s silence or lack of a response, in fact it only seemed to encourage him. It was only when recces hit that really initiated their friendship, when Red had been shoved down by one of the usual bullies, Green had stepped in. They both ended up getting detention for fighting, since Red didn’t speak to back up Green’s claims that the other boy had started it. Green had been frustrated with Red for not speaking up. However, the spiky haired boy continued to stick around Red regardless of it all.
So it wasn’t a surprise that they eventually became friends, Green even going through learning sign language so he could actually communicate with Red. Every morning, Green would be pounding at Red’s door, insisting Red was late for school but his friend would always wait for him, no matter how late he actually was. To Red, Green appeared to be the strongest, most independent boy he’d ever knew. Adventurous and ambitious, dragging Red along just so he could ‘witness how amazing Green was’. Red had cried several times, but Green never cried, not even when an angry Spearow had attacked and chased them off. So it surprised Red to finally see Green scared for once.
It was the weekend, which meant they could stay over at one another’s houses, this weekend it was Green’s turn to stay at Red’s house. After dinner and cleaning up, they had wasted the rest of the night looking through the latest Pokemon magazine Green had bought from the store earlier. Eventually, Red’s mom said it was time for bed and Red crawled into his bed and Green tucked himself in his sleeping bag. It wasn’t the first time either one has had a sleepover, but it was the first time Green woke him up in the middle of the night. Red, being a sound sleeper, groaned in protest and rolled over to ignore the poking Green was giving his side. He mumbled something incoherent as he tried to ignore Green’s insistent jabbing in his side which grew more and more demanding the longer Red tried to ignore it.
Finally, he rolled back over to glare at Green for disturbing his slumber, but his ire died the moment he saw Green. He looked a little pale in the glow of his pikachu nightlight and he could catch the sight of tears brimming in those amber eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Immediately Red sat up, his brows furrowed with concern and question as his red eyes tried to peer for an answer. Green was usually always forth coming with information, so it was surprising that he turned his head, a stubborn gesture that indicated he didn’t want to talk about it. Red wanted to know what could cause his friend to cry like that, but it appeared he wouldn’t be getting any answers.
Instead, Red lifted up his blankets and motioned for Green to join him, it took a moment as Green debated on giving in to such weakness but eventually he came around. Red waited patiently as always until Green climbed up onto the bed and scooted under the covers with him. They didn’t touch, simply faced each other as they shared a pillow, their quiet breaths the only thing disturbing the silence of the room. When Green sniffed a little, the tears starting to leak from his eyes despite how determined the other boy had been to keep them hidden, Red reached out. He wrapped one arm about Green’s torso and the other curled under the other boy’s head. He mimicked what his mother did for him whenever he had a bad dream, pulling Green close to snuggle, to offer comfort to his only friend.
Red rested his chin on top of those messy brown spikes, feeling Green shake a little in those quiet sobs, but Red didn’t comment, even if he did speak he wouldn’t. Instead he let Green just let it all out while holding him, he felt a pain in his chest to know the boy he thought was strong, confident, and nothing could ever get to him, could actually cry. He closed his eyes, his hand slowly petting Green’s back in a way his mother always did to lull him back to sleep, hoping to sooth whatever had caused Green to become so upset. Eventually, the sobs lessened and Red thought Green had worn himself out enough to have fallen asleep. He didn’t mind if Green stayed in his bed, he liked the comfort of someone being there for him and vice versa.
“Red?” A soft voice broke through his drifting thoughts, making his eyes open and he leaned back to look at Green’s exhausted, tear stained face to let him know he was listening. “Promise me something?” Green continued, being vague enough to peek Red’s curiosity, Red nodded with an affirmative motion. He would promise Green anything after what he’d just witnessed, anything to make his friend return to the loud and cocky boy he once knew. “Promise me you’ll never leave?” Red blinked in surprise, it was an odd request, one he wouldn’t understand until he was an adult and had figured out that Green had been crying over the loss of his parents. Had he’d known at the time…
Red held up his hand, all his fingers curled except for his pinky finger, a gesture that was familiar between them. Green smiled a little, lifting his own hand and curled his pinky around Red’s to seal the promise. A promise that Red would eventually break…
😁MOST RECENT😁 PLEASE MESSAGE, OR TRY ASK OR EMAIL (email@example.com) ONLY NOT COMMENT THANKS!(because I may not see it)
*I did not film any of these :)
*please read carefully ;) order isn’t perfect haha
🛑PLEASE TRY TO NOT ASK FOR SOMETHING THAT IS ‘NFT’ aka NOT FOR TRADE TILL A CERTAIN DATE 🛑
❇️Gifting up to 5 or maybe more on a good day haha jk I’m nice ❇️
[title of show]
3 Musketeers w/ Aaron Tveit
21 Chump Street
25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
A Chorus Line (Broadway 2006)
Addams Family (US Tour)
A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder
Amelie w/ Phillipa Soo (LA)
Amelie w/ Samantha Barks
American Idiot (LA)
An American In Paris
Anastasia (Hartford, CT)
Anastasia Broadway-June 28 (NFT till Nov. 1)
Annie Revival (2013)
Assassins (May 29, 2004) w/ Neil Patrick Harris
Avenue Q (OBC)
Beautiful: The Carole King Musical
Be More Chill-The Play
Bonnie & Clyde w/ Jeremy Jordan & Laura Osnes
Bring It On
Cabaret w/ Emma Stone
Carrie (2012 Revival) w/ Derek Klena & Christy Altomare
Catch Me If You Can
Cats (1998 filmed)
Charlie & The Chocolate Factory (London)
Chicago (US Tour 2005)
Cinderella w/ Keke Palmer
Company Revival (2007)
Company (2011) w/ Neil Patrick Harris,Patti
LuPone & Stephen Colbert
Come From Away
Dear Evan Hansen
Dogfight w/ Derek Klena & Lindsay Mendez
Falsettos Revival (2016)
Fiddler On The Roof (2015)
Finding Neverland w/ Jeremy Jordan
First Date w/ Zachary Levi & Krysta Rodriguez
Frankenstein w/ Benedict Cumberbatch
Godspell Revival (2011) w/ Lindsay Mendez
Grease Live! w/ Aaron Tveit, Julianne
Hough & Vanessa Hudgens
Hamilton (Javier Muñoz & Lexi Lawson)
Heathers (understudy for J.D. & Heather Chandler)
Heathers (OOBC Act 1 only-Barrett & Ryan)
Hedwig and the Angry Inch w/ Neil Patrick Harris
Hedwig and the Angry Inch w/ John Cameron Mitchell
Hello Dolly Revival (Gavin understudy)
How to Succeed In Business w/ Daniel Radcliffe
How to Succeed in Business w/ Darren Criss
In The Heights (*2/14/2008 - *5/18/2008 - *8/10/2010 Tour)
Jesus Christ Superstar
Legally Blonde (Regular & Sing-Along)
Les Miserables 10th Anniversary
Les Miserables (2014 Revival)
Lightning Thief (2014 incomplete & 2015 incomplete)
Matilda w/ Oona Laurence
Miss Saigon (London Revival)
Miss Saigon w/ Lea Salonga
Natasha, Pierre and The Great Comet of 1812 w/ Denée Benton (*Dave Malloy-Pierre audio available-*May 5, 2017)
Next to Normal (Broadway)
Newsies w/ Corey Cott
Newsies w/ Jeremy Jordan
On Your Feet!
Rent (Hollywood Bowl w/ Aaron Tveit)
Rent (filmed live 2008) w/ Renée Elise Goldsberry
Rocky Horror Picture Show (Live Cinema Screening 2015)
Saved! w/ Aaron Tveit
School of Rock
Shrek The Musical
Spring Awakening (OBC)
Spring Awakening (Deaf West-The Wallis)
Spring Awakening (Deaf West-Broadway)
Sweeney Todd (2001 Live in Concert) w/ Patti LuPone & Neil Patrick Harris
The Book of Mormon (OBC)
The Book of Mormon w/ Ben Platt (Chicago)
The Bridges of Madison County
The Color Purple Revival (2015)
The Drowsy Chaperone
The Hunch Back of Notre Dame (La Jolla Playhouse)
The King and I
The Little Mermaid (Broadway- *January 30, 2008)
The Phantom of The Opera w/ Sierra Boggess & Norm Lewis
Waitress w/ Jessie Mueller
Waitress w/ Sara Bareilles (April 19, 2017)
West Side Story Revival (2009)
Wicked w/ Aaron Tveit
Wicked w/ Donna Vivino
Wicked w/ Kristin Chenoweth’s last performance
Wicked w/ Rachel Tucker
Wicked w/ Stephanie J Block
Wicked w/ Willemjin Verkaik
BOOTLEG WANTS BELOW(I’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER!!!❤️❤️❤️):
🔸Dear Evan Hansen w/ Colton Ryan (*I have an audio)
🔸Natasha,Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812 w/ *Phillipa Soo* (*i have an audio along with Luke Holloway,have Oak opening)
🔸Kinky Boots w/ Brendon Urie (*I have an audio)
🔸*Assassins w/ Aaron Tveit (magically somehow 😩likely doesn’t exist *I have an audio)
🔸Wicked w/ Lindsay Mendez & Derek Klena (doesn’t exist? 🤔*I have an audio and really short highlights, any parts appreciated!)
🔸Anything I don’t have :)
Jace remembers a time when the Institute felt like home, when all he worried about was besting Alec during training and flirting with the blonde in runes studies. But now, as he stumbles back after the mess at the Seelie Court, everything is sideways, everything is harder than he ever thought it would be, and between Valentine and Clary and his fucking feelings…
He’s nearing the steps when the heavy oak doors swing open, warm yellow light spilling out onto the pavement like liquid gold. He sees Magnus saunter out, silhouette sharp in one of those military jackets he favors, and Jace is bracing himself for an unwanted greeting when Alec unexpectedly tumbles out of the door too.
“Magnus,” he hears Alec call, and Magnus turns until all Jace can see is the back of his broad shoulders and Alec’s face, twisted into something that’s half concern and half happiness.
He doesn’t eavesdrop - he’d feel like a piece of shit if he activated his hearing rune now - but he can’t stop himself from watching as they talk, as Alec’s expression eases until it’s open and honest and relaxed in a way Jace rarely has the privilege of seeing nowadays. Magnus reaches up, resting lacquered fingertips against Alec’s jaw, and Jace’s eyes widen at the way Alec turns his face into Magnus’s palm, nuzzling his mouth against Magnus’s hand.
This isn’t mine to see, he thinks, shame blooming in his chest, but seeing Alec like this, like this… he can’t turn away.
They step closer into each other’s space until they’re one inky shadow defined against a halo of light, and Jace feels something fuzzy and blissful skitter through him, emanating from his parabatai rune. Their happiness… gods know it was a hard-won battle, but if this is what they get in the end, if this is how they feel after it all…
They finally break apart, letting go of each other with a few more whispered words as Magnus turns around. He manages one step away before Alec suddenly grabs Magnus’s arm, spinning him around until they’re pressed together again and Alec is kissing Magnus like they kissed at the wedding, desperate and needy and uncaring of the rest of the world.
Like how Jace had just kissed Clary.
I want that. The thought rings inside his head as he hears his parabatai laugh when he finally lets Magnus go. I want that with her.
Magnus swirls his arms in an intricate dance, a bright portal spinning in front of him.
“I’ll see you at home soon,” Alec calls out, smile lopsided and wide.
And then Magnus disappears, and Alec heads back inside, and Jace is standing outside the Institute, alone again, everything exactly the same as it was five minutes ago except for Alec’s lingering happiness still tickling his skin.
Draco was having a lovely Thursday evening, spending the time reading books on new Quidditch techniques and scribbling down any potion ideas that came to mind. Of course, Draco could be more productive.
Wait. No, he actually couldn’t.
Because Harry was playing unnecessary, loud, cantankerous garbage. Usually, Draco can drown it out and chalk it up to Harry going through a ‘hardcore’ phase.
But it’s been over a year.
His so-called “music” booming from underneath Draco’s room was trembling the floorboards, shaking the windows, and rattling the thoughts inside Draco’s mind. Which wasn’t “punk rock” at all.
“We’re closed!” You called, not bothering to turn at the sound of the bell above the door chiming.
“Even for your favorite customer?” You instantly recognized the voice and spun to greet him with a smile.
“Customer usually implies you pay. You show up unannounced and charm your way into a box of free pastries.” You teased your old friend, who in turn leaned against the counter and shrugged casually.
“I distinctly remember striking up a deal. Free food for free tickets.” Oak grinned when you squealed in excitement.
“You got it?”
“I got it! Orchestra, right in the middle so you have an unobstructed view of my beautiful face.” He struck a few poses as you snatched the ticket from his hand, confirming its existence.
“I owe you five million free pastries! You have to bring some in for the crew, as a thank you.” You immediately got to work, stuffing as many baked goods as you could into various pink boxes from behind the counter.
“Don’t you have actual paying customers to feed?” Oak’s voice rang out. You popped up from behind the glass display case with four boxes stuffed to the brink.
“Screw them!” You insisted, pushing the boxes into his empty hands. “Thank you, I promise not to embarrass myself in front of them!”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” He called to you as you pushed him out the door, knowing he was on the brink of running late for the first show of the day. “See you tonight!” You stood at the glass door, watching for a moment as he struggled under the mass of boxes while crossing the busy street.
You sighed, making sure the ticket was secure in your pocket before flipping the sign at the door from ‘closed’ to ‘open’.
“Oak, let me help!” Random people called, each taking one box from him and placing it on the common table.
“What are these?” Daveed asked, raising his brow and investigating the closest box.
“My friend owns a bakery and is seeing the show tonight, she wanted to give these to you guys for luck.” That was all it took for the rampage to start. The entire cast and crew acted as vultures around the boxes, barely leaving crumbs behind.
“I call the croissant! My wife will kill me if I don’t bring one home for her!” Lin called over everyone, who parted for him to take claim over a few treats. He took note of the bakery’s name for future use before sauntering over to Oak with a skip in his step.
“So…” He started, “This friend of yours…” He wiggled his eyebrows, much to the displeasure of Oak. “They’re the friend, huh?”
“Shut up.” Oak grumbled, snatching his usual chocolate chip muffin, snapping a picture of the cast as they swarmed around the few remaining pastries, and stomped off to his dressing room.
“I cried before you even came out.” You insisted.
“Nothing sad even happens in the first few minutes!” He responded, tugging at your hand as he ushered you backstage.
“I know, but I knew what was coming.” You whispered, very aware of where you were. You dragged you across the rotating floor without stopping, weaving through the halls before stopping in what appeared to be a makeshift kitchen.
“Hello, hello!” Called the very last person Oak wanted in contact with you tonight, Lin. “The baker has arrived!”
“The genius!” You shot back, noticing Oak’s discomfort, “Oak says you’re not that smart in real life.”
“Guilty.” He shrugged, twisting his hair up into a makeshift bun, “Thanks for the goodies this morning, by the way! Oak’s been keeping you a secret for too long.” Lin elbowed him, eliciting a grunt and a whine from Oak, who had stayed awfully quiet during this interaction.
“My bakery is the best kept secret in New York.” You insisted as Oak grumbled something about seeing his dressing room before Anthony and Daveed left for the night.
“I’ll let you kids get to it.” Lin saluted, zipping his hoodie up and preparing himself for the crowd that had more than likely gathered outside the stage door. “Peace!” He threw up the peace sign, taking his leave as Oak dragged you away.
“He seemed nice.” You told him, trying to make conversation. He didn’t respond, and you wondered why Lin was such a sore subject for him.
“We’re closed!” You called, not bothering to look up from the register.
“Sorry, just here for the croissants!” Lin called, pulling his headphones down to wrap around his neck. “My wife, Vanessa, she loved the one I brought home last night. Thought I’d stop in?” He made his way to the counter, leaning against it just as Oak had the morning before.
“You guys are always welcome here, closed or not.” You got to work packaging a few croissants and a cookie. A treat for his son, you thought. “Can I ask you something?” You pushed the bag across the counter, shaking your head when he tried to pull out his wallet.
“Are you and Oak friends? He was kind of cold after we talked to you last night.”
He winced at the question.
“It’s just…I know things.”
“Things? Well, you’re a certified genius, hopefully you know something.” He let out a single loud laugh, and you prided yourself in being witty enough to elicit the sound.
“I mean, it’s not really my place to say. Oak, he’s a quiet guy. He likes to talk, though. Most of the time we talk, it’s about you.”
“Me?” You pointed to yourself, as if there was another you living somewhere that he could be referring to.
“It’s very cute, if not a little annoying. Although, now that I’ve met you and earned your trust enough to get free croissants.” He grabbed the bag off the counter, “The praise is well earned.” He took in your dumbstruck expression, “If you feel the same way about him, you should talk to him. He’s got a few things to say.” He threw up his peace sign again as he backed out the door and across the street towards the theater.
You were very grateful the doorman had recognized you on sight. With the cover story of ‘Oh, I’m bringing Oak lunch!’ and a wrapped panini in your grasp, it only took a minute for you to be let through.
You passed through pretty much unnoticed save for a few people who thanked you again for the treats from the day before. You nodded, stopping to ask where you would find Oak. They all pointed the way back towards the kitchen area you had been in before.
He sat at the table, scrolling through his phone and sipping from a water bottle, half in costume. He looked up as you entered, unsure how or why you had come.
“Hi. Lunch.” You pushed the sandwich into his hands before he could protest, “Also, do you want to go out tomorrow?”
He looked back and forth from the panini to you, wondering how the two were related.
Inside, a parade was running through your head. On the outside, you played it cool. Letting a simple smile grace your lips, you tried to casually back out with your head held high. You eventually ran into a wall, and then another person.
Finally, you took your leave, throwing up Lin’s signature peace sign as you ducked out.
The pieces began to put themselves together. The familiar box Lin carried in this morning. The peace sign. The smug grin Lin wore all morning.
“Lin-Manuel Miranda!” Oak called, pushing out of his chair as he heard a distant scream of panic.
“Mark?” Amy called out, peering through the open door to the darkened hallway. “Did you find anything?” He had gone searching for the source of the bump that had resonated through the entire building. Tyler had already gone to check the fence line for the source of the pained howl they had heard a little while ago, and it was feeling all too like the horror movies they had all seen.
“And now it’s windy,” Kathryn sighed, irritated. “It’s the like the weather is directing this scene.” She was curled in a chair next to the fireplace, cold and empty - it was summer after all. Her computer whirred softly, pre-rendering the latest piece of footage. For a second, she could hear what sounded like her own voice, whispering to her. But it faded into the wind, and she shook her head to clear it.
“I’ll go see what’s happening” Ethan offered, springing up off his seat.
“What? No. We aren’t falling into that trope” Amy said, turning to face him. “We can wait here for him. The house isn’t that big.”
“Yeah, exactly. This isn’t a movie. Maybe something weird happened, and he needs help. I’ll be right back.” Ethan barely hesitated at the door, striding through with gathered confidence.
“And now we’ve lost three of them.” Kathryn was still staring at the window. Her eyes were fixed on something, but she wore only an expression of confusion on her face. She breathed in deeply, standing suddenly, and moved towards the door.
“Wait, where are you going now?” Amy called, exasperated, but Kathryn just slowly paced out of the room. Rubbing her eyes, Amy turned to the gilded mirror hanging over the fireplace. Leaning against the lintel, she looked up at the mirror, and shied back from the silver glass. Her own face was staring back at her - identical, except for the deep, black hair, purple lips and blood red eyes. The image smiled, and Amy backed away.
“Better watch out, dear. Are you sure you know who you can trust?” The image faded with a cackle, and Amy collapsed onto the sofa at her back. Kathryn entered again at the same measured pace.
“Are you ok?” Amy asked, trying desperately to understand what had happened. Kathryn’s answer was forestalled by a thump at the door. The heavy oak flew open, and Mark threw himself inside.
“Are you ok?” he asked Kathryn and Amy, flitting his eyes between the two of them. Amy grabbed his arm.
“Yeah, of course. What about you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mark glanced away, looking down as through staring through the floor. “Something like that.”
Ethan’s scream could be heard throughout the room, echoing far more than should have been possible. Frantic footsteps sounded in the hall, and bloody fingers scrabbled at the doorframe, before propelling Ethan, dripping blood from his shoulder, into the room. He slammed the door behind him, backing away from it, straight into Kathryn.
“Are those teeth marks?!” Amy asked, reaching for his shoulder.
“Yep” Ethan was panting, wide-eyed in fear.
“Hey, we match.” Kathryn pulled her hair over her right shoulder, exposing the two punture wounds on her neck, bright red against her skin.
At a loud grunt, they turned to the glass door leading to the balcony. Bloody fingers hooked onto the balcony’s ledge, followed by Tyler’s mop of hair. As he pulled himself over and into the safety of the room, they could see that his right leg was bleeding profusely and he was totally unable to put weight on it. Savage tears could be seen through the ruined fabric of his pants, and shredded skin had obviously been torn by long, serrated teeth. A tuft of fur was clenched in Tyler’s fist.
Mark stared around the room, meeting eyes with each of them.
“Did yours look like you too?” Wide eyed nods greeted him, Kathryn still shockingly calm.
“This is going to make a great video. If we survive.”
Bucky sat at his oak desk, a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he breathed in deeply. Ever since that run in with that…with that slum kid Bucky hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of them. Their rosy cheeks and bright eyes kept perforating his thoughts, making it impossible to think about much else. He had business deals to think off, he had other gangs to think about, he had to worry about some prick in England talking shit about him, he didn’t have time to focus on that low life nobody. With a sigh Bucky tossed his cigar into an ash tray, running his hands down his scruffy face. It was nearly half an hour later when A quiet knock on his study door is what finally broke him
Out of his stupor.
"Yeah?“ Bucky’s voice was hoarse, much more than usual. The tall oak doors swung open to reveal Dot, Bucky’s saving grace, wearing nothing but a silk robe he had bought them for valentines day.
"Hello there dot,” Bucky smirks as Dot waltz in, swaying her hips as she made her way to Bucky’s heavy desk.
"Hiya Mr. Barnes,“ she smirks as she stops before him, resting her hands on the arms of his chair. "I’ve been missin’ ya today,” Bucky hums as he leans forward, almost touching his lips against hers.
“Have you now?” Dot nods, her lips parting in a sultry fashion as she does.
"You’re favorite girl is feeling a bit neglected,“
"Oh, we can’t have that,” Bucky smirks as he grabs Dot’s ass, bringing her down onto his lap. “Now can we?” Dot gasps at the contact, shifting a bit, rubbing herself against Bucky’s leg enticingly.
"Sit back and let Mr. Barnes take care of ya, eh?“
(Y/N) bit their lip as they eyed all the couples dancing, trying so desperately to keep their mind off of their run in a few days prior. They had just run into one of the most dangerous thugs in all of America, the man had everyone in his pocket, he could get away with murder and no one would bat an eye and yet (Y/N) ran into him and here they were, able to tell the tale.
With a shaky sigh (Y/N) reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear, even though it wasn’t necessary. Honestly (Y/N) was trying their best to keep busy, even the most mundane tasks would help focus (Y/N)’s mind on things other than the dark haired, mysterious thug.
"Hey sweetcheeks,” a rather harsh, almost smoker like voice drawls in (Y/N)’s ear, sending shivers down their spine. “I couldn’t help but notice you here all alone, how bout you get up and dance with me.” His words were poised as a question but his tone hinted otherwise. (Y/N) gulps, steeling themself against the strange man.
“I’m sorry sir but I really don’t feel like-"
"It wasn’t a Question sweetheart,” he grips (Y/N)’s arm painfully tight, leaving them to whimper in pain. “Now get up or I’ll make you get up,” it was either go willingly or against their own will and (Y/N) most definitely wasn’t all too thrilled about the second idea. So with shaking legs and a trembling lip (Y/N) stood from their spot, following the sketchy looking man out to the dance floor. His strong hands settle on their waist as he yanks them close, their hips pushed flush against his.
“What’s your name kid?” (Y/N) trembles on the spot as they reluctantly dance with the man, praying that someone would notice how uncomfortable they were and come out a stop to it. But no one did, they all kept their gazes elsewhere, completely ignoring (Y/N) and the man. “I asked you a question kid,” The man growls dangerously, gripping (Y/N)’s hips enough to leave bruises.
“I-I’m (Y/N),” they stutter, fear getting the better of their voice. The man hums, a sick smile overtaking his features.
"Such a pretty name…you wanna know my name kid?“
"N-no,” (Y/N) manages a bit of sass, almost proud of themself for being able to have such attitude towards such a man. “Not really,”
“It’s Brock fucking Rumlow,” He leans in, biting down on their earlobe slightly, sending the poor kid shuddering in fear.
Brock Rumlow- one of the most notorious gangs in all of Brooklyn, perhaps in the entire state.
Two mobsters in the course of a week? It seemed nearly implausible and yet here (Y/N) was, still reeling from their run in with Bucky and now their contact with Brock.
“No sassy remarks anymore, eh?”
“Get off of me,” (Y/N) mutters, pushing at his chest weakly. Their lungs were still trying to recover from the harsh weather, leaving them feeling much weaker than the usually were.
“Aww, aren’t’chu you a cutie?” He purrs, his sickening smile never once leaving his lips. “I ought to wrap you up and take you home with me….” Brock growls as he licks his lips, his cold gaze running up and down (Y/N)’s form. “Oh sweetheart, the things I’d do to you,”
“I’m going to start screaming,” (Y/N) whispers, grunting against his hold. Their squirming comes to an abrupt stop when the feeling of something cool presses into their neck.
“Scream and I’ll slit your throat,” Brock sneers, his tone smug as he digs the point of his blade into their neck. (Y/N) whimpers softly, closing their eyes as something warm trickles down their neck, most likely leaving behind a trail of scarlet liquid.
“What do you want?” (Y/N) tries to sound stronger than they are but it was futile, Brock could see right through them.
“I just want a little fun dollface, take you back to my place, rough ya up a bit,” Brock purrs as he leans in once again, licking up the small rivulets of blood that had cascaded down (Y/N)’s neck. “Then I’m gonna send you back on your way and we’re gonna act like nothin’ happened, sound good?” (Y/N) whimpered, trying to shy away from Brock’s invading tongue to no avail, the blade kept them still, nipping at their skin in a way that had them wanting to puke. “Now, I’m gonna escort you out of here all nice and slow and you’re not gonna make a sound, got it? If you do,” Brock chuckles as she stashes his knife away. “I’m gonna make that much more painful for ya, sweetheart,”
Brock’s grips on (Y/N)’s arm was painfully tight, no doubt leaving finger shaped bruises in their skin. He dragged them down the streets of Brooklyn, towards the nicer area of town, to where all the rich snobs lived. No one here would care that (Y/N) was being manhandled by Brock, hell, no one in the slums even cared as they watched the tall, burly man guide the smaller human being along. Tears burned at (Y/N)’s eyes but they refused to let them fall, they had to keep some shred of dignity with this man and letting him see them cry would be the last straw.
“No tears huh?” Brock chuckled as he turned a corner, harshly jerking (Y/N) along with him, resulting in a few pops from their elbow. “Most of the time people are sobbing by now, begging me not to hurt them but you-” He chuckles again, shaking his head as he makes his way towards one of the nicer streets. “You’re different, maybe I really should keep ya, you seem like a firecracker,”
“Burn in hell,” (Y/N) growls, as they struggle a bit, pulling backwards as Brock moved forwards. Why the suddenly had fight in them now only god knows but it was there, a kindling flame of hatred and fear and dammit (Y/N) was going to use it.
“I suggest you stop struggling sweetheart,” Brock growls as he yanks them forward, nearly tripping them in the process. “I’m not opposed to slaughtering you right here and leaving your body to the dogs,”
“Let go of me!” (Y/N) yells, struggling to get away. They twisted and flailed, clawed and kicked, anything to get this man off of them but Brock was strong and he held on tightly, causing much discomfort on (Y/N)’s part. “Get off of me!” (Y/N) screamed helplessly, hoping that anyone would come to their rescue. Little did they know that just up the street there stood a man dressed to the nines, a Brazilian imported cigar hanging out of his mouth.
“Get off of me!’ a voice screamed down the street. Bucky looked up from his suit, a small smirk rising to his lips at their person’s frantic cry. Sounded like someone was going to get lucky tonight, maybe if he caught them in time he’d be able to join in too. Bucky chuckled as he huffed on his cigar, reveling in the high it gave him. His pristine shoes clicked down the street, creating a soft clacking against the somewhat nice pavement. It was the only other sound in the air other than the person’s screams and to be a bit morbid he was enjoying them. Call Bucky a sadist but god- that noise was like music to his ears.
“What the fuck did I tell you was gonna happen if you struggled, huh?” A voice growled as Bucky got closer. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion; that voice sounded so familiar, he could’ve sworn that he had only heard it a few days ago- Bucky comes to an abrupt stop before the source of noise, his eyes quickly taking in the rather shocking scene. It was the kid from a few days ago, the shabby, slum kid, struggling against the grasp of some tall, wide man…
“Brock Rumlow,” Bucky growls, a small smirk rising to his lips. “How strange to see you here,” Brock stops fighting the kid immediately, his entire body going rigid at Bucky’s voice.
“Barnes,” Brock smiles sickeningly, that same smile that had been twisting (Y/N)’s stomach for the last half an hour. “Fancy seeing you here,” Bucky smirks as he flicks his cigar to the ground, allowing it to burn out and die slowly.
“Who’s the kid?” Bucky gestures to (Y/N) with a simple quirk of his head as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“Just a lil’ something I picked up earlier,” Bucky looks at (Y/N), his harsh gaze raking over their trembling form. He regarded them with a look of prejudice, sneering down at them with an upturned nose. He hoped his look was enough to convince Brock that he had no care for this (Y/N) creature when in reality the look of fear on their face had stirred something deep within him.
“How much do you want for ‘em?” Bucky asks coolly, as though he wasn’t bargaining this persons life right before them.
“Sorry Barnes but you’re out of luck, this one’s a keeper,”
“I don’t think you understood me,” Bucky chuckles darkly as he reaches in his suit, retrieving a small albeit dangerous handgun. “How much do you want for ‘em?” He points the end of the barrel at Brock’s stomach, inconspicuous enough that if anyone walked by they wouldn’t think anything of it.
“Fuck you Barnes,” Brock growls as he shoves (Y/N) towards the brunette. Bucky was quick to steady (Y/N), incidentally pulling them to his chest. “I’ll get them back,” Brock chuckles darkly as he saunters off, shaking his head as he does. “Just you wait and see,” Bucky keeps his ground as Brock saunters off, keeping (Y/N) against his chest protectively but as soon as the other mobster was out of sight Bucky broke, his facade crumbling to the ground.
“You alright kid?” Bucky asks as he inspects (Y/N), checking them for any wounds of any sort.
“Why do you care?” (Y/N) grumbles as the bat his prying hands away, being mindful not to expose their bleeding neck to him. Bucky immediately retracts his hands, as though (Y/N)’s words had burned him.
“Really?” Bucky chuckles dryly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just spared your fucking life kid and now you’re gonna give me sass? I could’ve let that bastard rape and kill ya but instead I saved ya and this is the thanks I get?” (Y/N) huffs as they brush their outfit off, as though trying to get rid of any remnant of Brock.
“I didn’t ask for help-” (Y/N)’s sentence cuts short when Bucky grips their chin, forcing them to look into his eyes.
“I own this town sweetheart, I own half the country, with a snap of my fingers I could have you beaten to a bloody pulp and left at my doorstep if I so desired,” (Y/N) glares up at Bucky indignantly, flaring their nostrils angrily. “So I suggest you stay on my good side, got it?” Bucky gave them a little cheeky grin as he stepped back, wiping some ‘dust’ off their chin before turning on his heels to saunter back home, his energy for the night gone. He knew (Y/N) was glaring at his back so he turned his head, giving them a little smirk as he pulled out a new cigar, placing it between his fingers as he spoke to them. “I’ll be seeing you real soon (Y/N),” And with that the mobster turned away, lighting his cigar as he walked back home, whistling a chirpy tune.